Metal Gear Church VI: The Panties Strike Back
Once again, the party was standing outside the vampire dorm, this time with a large bag filled to the brim with panties. Church cleared his throat, looking at Marshall.
“Alright, I know the drill.” Marshall said, walking up to the vampire dorm and banging the brass knocker.
After a few seconds of shuffling, the door creaked open and a pair of red eyes stared at them. Once she recognized them, the eyes widened. “Ah! Lord Banterbury and his merry men have come back! Fix a pot of red tea, Ulrika!” The voice commanded, before swinging open the door. “Please, come in Lord Banterbury.”
“I shall, thank you.” Church strolled in, leaving Marshall to lug in the bag of panties. Before Cheslav entered, Church pulled him aside. “Wait out here, I’ll give you your cue once the time comes.”
Cheslav nodded, squatting outside the door.
“Why isn’t the third one coming in?”
“He just wants some errr… fresh air. He’ll come in when he’s ready.”
The vampire looked at Cheslav, then Church. “Oookay, if you say so.”
Marshall was led to the room they had been in last time, though the spotlight had been removed, leaving the room nearly pitch black. Marshall gulped, holding his hands out in front of him to feel for some kind of boundary. He only succeeded in grasping at empty space until his hand rested on something soft and squishy.
“Pervert!” A voice from the dark shouted, striking Marshall across the cheek.
“Ow! Sorry miss, I don’t have night vision or a cane, exactly.” Marshall complained, rubbing his cheek.
“Oh, right. Terribly sorry. Shall I lead you to the couch?” The vampire apologized, resting her hands on his shoulders.
“I-I guess.” Marshall preemptively raised his shoulders in case she tried to sneak in a nibble on his neck.
Once everyone was situated in the room, Church dumped the bag full of panties onto the coffee table. Seeing this, a tall, cloaked woman sauntered in. It was nigh-impossible to see what she looked like due to how dark it was, but it was probably safe to assume she was the head vampire.
“So, you managed to actually do it? Color us impressed~ The wight we sent to help you, Natasha, had some choice words for tweed boy over here, but I don’t care so long as you deliver. And deliver you did. Consider us even.” She sat down on a big, well decorated chair next to the empty fireplace and crossed her legs. “Would you like to join us for tea?”
“We would, thank you!” Church piped up from his own seat which he had found by using his cane like a blind man. “Also, I hope you don’t mind if we tour your… lovely castle.”
“Oh? I thought you didn’t like our decor, judging from your kind words last time.” The head mistress leaned forward, pulling her glasses down her nose a bit.
“I suppose you could say the style has grown on me, after seeing that horrible excuse the dhampir call a dormitory.”
The head vampire chuckled. “Is that so? Well, since you actually managed to meet our demand, I’ll let you off the hook. Oh, here comes Ulrika with the tea now!”
Marshall sat on the couch, his legs spread across two seats. Two vampires walked to either side of him.
“Excuse me good sir, is this seat free?” She asked.
“Oh, err… go ‘head.” He pulled his legs closer to give them room. Great, now he had two vampires sandwiching him in the middle of the couch. He wasn’t exactly comfortable with how close they were to his neck, so he hiked his shoulders up again. “E-excuse me, miss.” He motioned to the head vampire.
“Call me Carmilla.”
“Carmilla, d’ya think we could maybe turn a few of these… candles on?”
One of the vampires leaned in, he could feel her breath tickling his ear. “Oh? But isn’t it so calm and serene in the dark? There’s just something magical about relaxing and letting your guard down in such a quiet and trustworthy place. Why don’t you try it?”
“Yes, try it~” The other vampire coos into his other ear.
“N-no.” Marshall shuddered.
“Go and flip some of those candles on, won’t you? They are our guests after all.”
The vampires looked at Carmilla, pouting, before standing up and giving the room some much needed light. Ulrika, the aforementioned vampire, was placing cups of tea in front of the vampires and filling them. Soon, she got to Church, and poured him a cup as well.
“Would you like any sugar, sir?”
“Absolutely not, tea is supposed to be drank without.”
“Very well sir.” She then reached Marshall and poured him a glass. “And what about you, sir? Any sugar?”
Isabella’s comments about his blood still echoed through his head. “N-no thanks.”
“Of course, sir.”
Now that the room wasn’t completely pitch black, Church noticed just how many books lined the shelves surrounding the room. What were they even about? He couldn’t tell from here. Focusing back on the cup of steaming tea in front of him, he brought it up to his nose and sniffed.
“That’s an awfully strong smell. What is this kind of tea called? I can’t say I’ve smelled anything quite like it.”
“Oh! It’s a… Christopher Davidson, if I recall.”
“Hm, odd name.” He took a cautious sip, immediately regretting it. Nearly spitting it out, he instead grunted as he struggled to swallow it. “A-ah, I see it’s an acquired taste. A strong flavor indeed.” He hit his chest a few times.
Marshall looked suspiciously down at the cup of tea, dipping his pinky in the cup. When he pulled up, it was stained red.
“Carmilla, is this blood?” He asked.
“Well, it’s a half-and-half mixture of Ceylon tea and A positive, donated by someone named Christopher Davidson. So it’s not all blood. We figured the tea would make it more palatable.”
Marshall stared at his pinky, then got an idea. Licking the blood off, he took in the taste. As expected, it was metallic and bitter. He held up a clean finger to one of the vampires.
“Hey, can one a y’all do me a favor?”
“I suppose, what do you need?”
“Bite my finger and taste my blood.”
Church looked up from his cup. “Marshall, what are you doing?”
“Trust me, Church. I need to confirm somethin’ real quick.”
“Oh, I’d be happy to have a taste, thank you~” She pulled his finger up to her mouth, and pierced it with her fang.
Marshall inhaled sharply, but it hurt less than he thought it would.
The vampire grimaced, like an otter who absolutely abhorred the taste of watermelon yet couldn’t stop eating it.
“I-it’s an interesting flavor, that’s for sure.”
“Really? What’s it taste like?”
“Have you heard of Mountain Dew?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Does my blood… really taste like Mountain fucking Dew?”
“I gotta taste this myself.” Marshall said as he licked his finger. It tasted just like the blood in the teacup. “You’re pulling my leg, my blood don’t taste nothin’ like the stuff.”
“You’re a human, you wouldn’t be able to taste it.”
Marshall raised his finger as if to interject, but she made a good point. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. “W-well is having overly sweet blood bad?”
“Errr, I don’t know for sure, I’ve never really encountered blood that tastes like that, so I assume it means something is wrong…”
Marshall sighed, guess it was time to go on a diet.
“Well, I won’t let any bad tea ruin this momentous occasion. Carmilla, would you be so kind as to give us a tour of your castle?” Church asked, standing up from the chair and stretching.
“O-oh, a tour?” Carmilla’s face brightened up. “I’ve always wanted to give a tour of our castle. Please, do follow me.” She sprang up from her chair and beckoned Church to follow her.
“Come along Marshall, let’s not keep this lovely lady waiting. That is, unless you’d like to stay and keep the other vampires company…”
“I’m comin’, hold yer horses.” Marshall rocked himself forward, standing up and heading after Church.
“…And this is the third bathroom, don’t mind the bloodstains in the sink, those were from a nosebleed, not some ritual sacrifice or midnight snack.” Carmilla raised her hand up to mouth. “Ohohoho~”
Church rolled his eyes, the entire tour had been as boring as he expected it to be. Carmilla made it a point to show off every room in the dormitory, not that it wasn’t what he wanted, but at this point it was a waste of his time. He had all the information he came here for.
“Now, if you’ll follow me, the last room on our magical tour is the Great Lair, also known as my room~”
Oh? Maybe he had spoken too soon.
“Nnnrgh, one second. This door always takes a bit of extra… EFFORT!” She jerked the door open, then motioned them inside.
Marshall was the first one inside, his jaw agape at the grandeur of the room. “Holy hell, ya gotta see this, Church.”
“What, you thought I was going to just stand outside and let you gawk all by yourself?” Church remarked, strolling in the room. Carmilla’s lair was well lit in comparison to the other rooms, with red wallpaper, a mahogany floor, and gold-framed pictures of famous vampires feeding on victims. An electric candle chandelier hung from her ceiling, with candelabras stationed on various surfaces inside her room, and sitting directly across her bed with brass knobs and a black wooden frame, was a huge vanity.
“Say, how come you have such a big mirror if you can’t see your reflection?” Marshall asked.
“If you look over to the right, you’ll see a portrait of my mother feeding on a poor peasant.” She gestured to the largest framed picture.
“Oh fine, I guess if I’m gonna be ignored then I’ll just shut up. Fuckin’ whatever right? I ask a legitimate question and she just glosses it over. It’s fine, I’m over it.” Marshall grumbled to himself bitterly.
“Ah, your mother is stunning, just what I would expect of a gem such as yourself.”
Carmilla blushed. “Oh, you flatter me. If it’s not too late, I can show you what a gem I am on the bed while your bumpkin friend watches.”
Both Church and Marshall looked at one another, silently agreeing that it was time to go.
“Actually, we should ought get going soon. It is getting late after all. I do appreciate the offer though.” Church lied, tugging on Marshall’s sleeve to lead him out of the room.
“Come back anytime~” Carmilla waved as they left.
Church and Marshall headed downstairs and into the parlor, where the other vampires were chatting and sipping on their ‘red’ tea.
“Oh, how was the tour~” One of them asked cordially.
“Jus’ fine, but we really oughta be headin’ ou-”
“Everyone, can I have your attention please?” Church called, interrupting Marshall and drawing the attention of every vampire in the room, even Carmilla, who had flown into the room via a swarm of bats.
“What is it, Lord Banterbury?” She asked.
“Once again, I would like to thank you dearly for sending that wight to help us. If not for her, our operation would not be nearly as successful as it was.”
“We also wish to thank you for delivering on your promise. Had you failed in your mission, we would have drained you all dry, ohohoho~” Carmilla once again placed her hand up to her mouth as she laughed.
“…Right. Anyway, it’s about time we leave. But before we go, I have a… parting gift for you all.” He hobbled over to the door, the vampires peeking their heads around the parlor curiously.
“Here comes that slav!” Church opened the door, and after a short delay Cheslav hopped in, riding a unicycle with Comrade Cluckers sitting on his head.
“Oi cyka blyat idi nahui whaddap?” Cheslav said as he rounded the corner into the parlor.
“O-oh my, what is… this?” Carmilla asked, more than a little confused by the slav’s sudden appearance. Though the more she watched him, the more mesmerized she was by the spinning wheel, and how that lovely black and white pattern painted along the spokes swirled and swirled…
“Call it a personal show, I train my… subordinates to entertain guests. Something any good Lord should know how to do.”
Carmilla didn’t respond, she and the other vampires were too busy staring at the hypnotically beautiful performance of The Great Cheslav.
“Come now, we must hurry Marshall. I’m not sure how long the hypno-cycle is going to work on them.” Church whispered, sneaking towards the stairs.
“W-wait up, how the… a hypno-cycle? How the hell do you even come up with these ideas?” Marshall said as he hastily followed Church.
“I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand my genius. Just keep a lookout for any that may follow us.”
They went back to Carmilla’s room, and suddenly Marshall understood what was going on. “You’re going to attempt this now!? When they could come up at any moment?”
“There’s no better time to do it, we have their trust and know the entire layout of their building. This gives us the perfect recipe for a fast raid. Now let’s see here, her dresser was- aha!” Church threw open the top drawer and took a nice handful, stuffing them into the sack that once held the dhampir panties. “Alright, let’s Terry-Fox it out of here, before it’s too late.”
Marshall and Church made off with the goods, the bag over Marshall’s shoulder. As they headed back to base, Church texted Cheslav telling him it was safe to make an escape.
Before long, all three party members were at the base, the fruits of their loom in tow. Church dumped the handful of panties onto the table, grinning smugly.
“D-did they not want some of the panties you brought them, Master? Do you want me to-”
“Oh, no, my dear, we just stopped by to pick up some extras while we were out.”
“W-wait, did you…?”
“Oh, yes. Yes we did. Right under their pretentious little noses.”
“I-isn’t that… I mean, the vampires a-and… they’ll know it was you!”
Church dug around in the small pile on the table.
“Oh, they won’t come sniffing around, unless the one we stole them from wants her friends to see this.”
He chuckled, pulling out a pair of small, well-worn batgirl panties and spinning them around his finger. Prudence covered her mouth and blushed, giving a startled “O-oh my…”
“Marshall, put them up, if you would.”
“Oh yeah, gimme a sec.” Marshall said, pulling out his phone and typing out a small message to Isabella, attaching a picture of the newly-acquired panties.
Within seconds, the dhampir had replied, “hey nice man that was fast… I owe u 1.”
Church leaned over his shoulder, peeking at the message. “Oooooh, chatting with your girlfriend, I see. Going to ask for another ‘gentle’ blowjob, or are we going to actually use it for something?”
“Hey, fuck you, partner, she ain’t my girlfriend, ya just necessarily sacrificed me to her. Like you do every time, ya asshole.”
“Maybe Cheslav will be sacrifice for alp dorm?”
“Oh, shut your mouth about the damn twink succubi, you knob jockey.”
“Alps not gay, are nice.”
“Yes they are, they were men once, and then they turned because they were too gay!”
“Ah, comrade, were men. Vagina means not gay.”
“Marshall, tell this absolute faggot about his degenerate tendencies.”
Marshall started to sweat. “Uh… I… S-say, I’ve been thinkin’ and I still don’t know where those kiki panties came from. I mean, I should’ve remembered somethin’ but we never even got near their dorm.”
A long moment passed as Church scratched his chin, pondering.
“Hmm… I suppose you’re right. But then where are they from?”
Prudence started to sweat. W-were they going to notice this time? They didn’t before, but they were really onto the right track now. But what would she do? She was in front of everybody… Would Church just punish her right here? I-in front of everyone? She was practically beside herself with worry, sweating profusely, but at the same time, her tail began to wag uncontrollably.
Time seemed to stop as Church looked toward her. Ohgodohjesuswhywhywhywhy-
Church placed a hand on her shoulder. H-he had her now, she couldn’t even run away, and, w-well, she wasn’t going to anyway, but it was going to be so embarrassing doing it in front of everyone, a-and what if they couldn’t look at her the same way any more? She’d just get treated like a toy and they’d pull on her tail and order her around and make her lick the floor and-
She squealed, jumping as she was roused from her fantasies. She was really in for it now. Her voice cracked as she barely managed to stutter out a “YES!? I-I mean, yes, M-Master?”
“Get me a pot of tea, it’s late.”
“I can’t think without my tea, woman, go fetch me a pot.”
“Wh- I-I mean… I thought Master was… O-oh…”
Prudence’s entire body drooped. Was he not going to…? It’s not as though she wanted the chicken to lick her eyeballs while Master took her from behind in front of a crowd, b-but… He was never going to notice her, was he?
“Uh, Prudence? Ya doin’ okay?” Marshall asked, seeing tears welling up in her eyes.
“U-um, w-well, I just, that is…”
“Oh, come on now, what’s wrong?”
“…H-how much weight can your rope hold?”
“Well, well, I’m glad someone can appreciate my knowledge around here. I mean, it really depends! Ya got yer nylons, an’ those’re pretty good for outdoor use, what with the weather resistance n’all. I usually use a nice, solid hemp, seein’ as it’s classic, an’ it’ll treat ya good if you take care of it-”
“U-uh, Marshall, I was…” The kikimora tried to interject, but Marshall continued speaking excitedly about rope materials. Giving up, she moved off to the kitchen to make a pot of tea for Master.
Church addressed the room, though between Prudence leaving and Marshall still passionately continuing on about the virtues of jute, Cheslav was his only audience member.
“With this, gentlemen, I’d say we’ve reached a landmark. Two dorms in a day- and no walks in the park, either. This calls for a celebration! PRUDENCE! BRING OUT THE ALCOHOL WHILE YOU’RE AT IT!”
“Okay, Master! You don’t need to be that loud, though, I can hear you just fine over here!”
The kikimora padded carefully back into the room, several bottles, a teapot and cups balanced precariously on a tea tray. She set it down on the table, sighing in relief before looking over to see Marshall, still talking.
“ -’an that’s why I think the six millimeter jute’s the best all-’round, really.”
“Um, t-thank you Marshall… I think I changed my mind, though… Master, your tea.”
Bringing Marshall a cup of tea next, they watched Church and Cheslav sorting through the bottles of vodka, gin, whiskey and several other types of drink.
“…So, uh, gonna be a hell of a party, huh?”
“I hope so, just as long as Master doesn’t get sick again. …Especially on the rug.”
Marshall laughs, shifting a bit on his feet and glancing at the wall of panties a few times before turning to Prudence.
“Y’know, I’ve been thinkin’… We don’t know any other kikis, and if we didn’t go to the dorm…”
Prudence froze. What? They weren’t- But, they didn’t- H-he couldn’t know! They were all so oblivious and… Oh, god, was he going to tell Master? W-what if… What if he hated her for not telling him? Or even… What if he hated her for stealing his glory?! He might just… Would he just cut her out of his life? She trembled a little bit, looking up at Marshall.
“Heh, I figured.”
“P-please… O-oh god, please… D-don’t tell him, I’ll do anything!”
“Ah, don’t worry about it, I’m not in any mood to interfere. I guess there’s one thing you could do for me, though…”
What’s he going to ask for? Is he going to abuse her? L-like make her call Master while he put ice cubes in her butt or something?! What if she couldn’t hold her voice in and Master found out? O-or make her strip naked in front of a window and-
Marshall pointed to the kitchen, scratching the back of his head.
“I hate to ask you to go straight back, but would you mind grabbin’ some nuts back there? I’m feeling a bit hungry after all that.”
Prudence nearly fainted. Was… N-no, it couldn’t be more obvious… He wanted her to… S-sate his hunger in the kitchen while everyone else was busy. G-grab his nuts? She wasn’t sure how well she’d even be able to give fellatio… Oh, no, what if he made her stick her tongue in his butt and lick around inside instead? She wasn’t sure whether her heart was ready for that, but… A-at least she could save her first for Master… Tears welled up in her eyes as she grabbed her skirt tightly.
“P-please at least let me stay a v-… virgin…”
Marshall looked at her, utterly horrified.
“What in tarn- The everloving hell are you talking about, Prudence?”
“I-I just… please don’t take it away! I want to save it for the man I love!”
“St-stop that. I’m not gonna… Honestly, what the hell is going on in your head, woman? An’ do ya mean Church?”
The kikimora made a strangled sound of panic as she jumped forward, trying to cover the man’s mouth.
“SHHH! H-how did you…?!”
“…Prudence. Darlin’. That’s past just unobservant. You’re callin’ me retarded, here.”
“W-well, I… D-does Cheslav know?”
“Look, everyone here to Timbuktu could figure it out if they ever saw ya in a room with him. I’m pretty sure Church is the only person who doesn’t know.”
“Y-you’re not going to tell him, are you?”
“Look, you’d have to be actively raping him for him to figure out you fancied him.”
Prudence paused for a long moment, playing with a lock of her hair.
“…D-do you think I should?”
Marshall patted her on the shoulder. grinning.
“Look, I didn’t give you the idea. Sometimes I get too busy to come in to the base when I get er, messages from my friends, though.”
“R-really? Thankyouthankyouthankyou! I-I mean… T-that’s too bad, isn’t it? I mean, if something were to happen…”
“Ah, he’ll be fine.”
“Cheersh!” Marshall raised a bottle of whiskey, clinking it against Church’s gin and Cheslav’s vodka bottle.
“How…how… how’d you manage t’eshcape the vampire dorm, Chap? We didn’t get t’see that.” Church asked, pouring a glass of gin into his teacup and downing it.
“Cheslav was riding hypno-cycle to trick pointy-tooth ladies, and Comrade Cluckers made them pretend to be of hens. Probably over by now.” He mentioned, taking another swig of vodka.
“Speaking o’yer pet chicken, where’d he… where ‘dhe go?” Marshall asked.
“Comrade Cluckers is guarding dorm. Nobody will get past him.”
Marshall and Church looked at each other, silently agreeing. They knew Cheslav wasn’t a sarcastic person, but at the same time… it was usually just better not to ask.
“At any rate, tonight’s a night to have a real swah… soi… shwer… uhhh… shelebrashun. Prudensh, c’mere and drink with us.” He sloppily beckoned her over.
Prudence fidgeted, arms behind her back. “But… didn’t you say ‘drinking is for men,’ Master?” She traced the ground with her foot.
“Bah! You’re ghonna have fun and you’re ghonna… FACKING like it. Now siddown next t’me and get yourself a glash.”
In an instant, Prudence was kneeling next to Church, glass in hand and tail wagging.
“I said t’SIT down you living feaff-featherdeh… featherdushter. You’re not suckin’ knobs, it’s gin.”
Prudence blushed. “I-I mean, I wouldn’t mind something else of Master’s… M-maybe…?”
“That’s not… Naaah. We’re ‘avin’ fun tonight. Sit on that shtool and I’ll mix y’up a drink.” He stood up, wobbly on his cane, then hobbled over to the kitchen to get some ingredients. He came back with a lemon, some rosemary, and a bottle of tonic.
“Now, first let me see that glash…” He scooted it to the middle of the table, then grabbed the lemon. “Firsht, givit some grape juice…” He bites into the lemon, and squeezes until juice and seeds leak into the glass below. “Then, shome parshley.” He took the cap off the rosemary bottle and dumped a hearty load into the glass. “Now tha gin…” He poured in the gin until the glass was nearly full. “Aahhh, feck, t’much gin. One sec’nd, jushhht one sec.”
He sipped at the glass until it was half-emptied. “There y’ go, now f’r the tonic.” He poured the remainder of the glass with tonic, spilling some of it over the top. “Shee? It mixes itshelf up wittha bubbles. B’n app th’ teeth, Prudensh.” He scooted it towards the poor kikimora, who stared uncomfortably at the bubbling abomination before her.
“M-Master, are you sure about this? I-I mean you’re kind of-”
Church held up a finger to her mouth.
“Ssshhhh. ‘S gonna be… Yer gonna love it, I proooomise.”
Prudence still wasn’t sure. She did want to drink it for Master, especially since h-he put his lips on the same cup… B-but…
“C’moooon, ol’ girl, ‘s fiiiiine. ‘S great, so jes’… Just ‘ave a sip.”
He stroked her cheek as affectionately as he could manage, just barely avoiding poking her in the eye as he brought the drink up to her mouth.
Prudence squealed a bit at the unexpected touching, her body shaking as her tail wagged madly.
“Ah, U-uh… C-could you just… keep doing that while I drink?” Prudence stuttered, opening her mouth for Church to haphazardly pour it in, ending up with half the glass running down her chin.
She tried to concentrate on Church’s hand as she braced herself for the disgu- What?
Her head felt like it was spinning. It was strong, certainly, but the lemon made it just sweet enough without being too much, and all that rosemary had just added… something magical. Church began giggling madly as he wiped her face off with a handkerchief.
“Gin’s arright, innit?”
“M-Master! How did you… I mean, it just seemed like so much, but then you… I-it was delicious, Master!”
“Of coursh it’ws great, Prudensh! I made it aff… after all.”
About an hour later, they all sat around the table. Prudence, having had several more glasses of Church’s gin and tonic, had managed to get as plastered as the rest of group. Marshall was calling Cheslav a cowpoke again while the man sang in Russian, hooking his arm around Church, who was mixing more gin and tonic for the kikimora.
“C-careful Marshall, youuuu don’t wanna make out with-” She hiccuped. “C-Cheslav again, do you?” She giggled, wiping the drool off her chin.
“I didn- What the fffffuck, Prudence? I didn’ make out with ‘im…” Marshall took another swig of whiskey.
“M-maybe you should?” She slurped another string of drool into her mouth. “I-I mean, you’re booooth suhuch cute guys~”
“Sh-shorry Prudence, d-don’ really swing thataway. Neither does Cowpoke over here, right?”
“I dunno ‘bout that, Marshmall…Heheh, your name shoundslike Marshmallow. Did y’know that? An’… and Chap reeealllyy sheems to like those… faggoty alpsh.”
“Oi cyka, alps nice and you know it. Blyat.” Cheslav tried to take another sip of vodka, but he had finished his entire bottle.
Prudence, still giggling, fell into Church’s lap, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Ehehe… Marshmallow… Yer soooooo funny, Mashter… Y’know, I was thinkin’… uh… wait… O-oh yeah!” She looked up at Church, her eyes sparkling. “Mashter, yer jes’ the besht…”
“O’ courshe I am! Head of tha… Th’ besht damn panty raiders a man could ask for!”
“We should… Do somethin’ shpeshal, don’t ya think, Mashter? …We could build a shtatue! A monamment t’ Mashter w-wiff a reaaally big dick, n’ that’d show those damn ffffuckin’… shoggothsh who’s boss ‘round here!”
“Tha… ‘S…yeah! N’ we can puddit on… l-like a mountain a’ panties! Like Sir Hillary climbin’ fackin’ Ev’rest!”
“W-wait, Mashter… W-who’sh Hillary? Do I know ‘er? I’ll beat ‘er up if she triesta ffffuckin’… S-steal ya!”
“Aaaah, can it, y’… y’…” Church dozed off a moment, but snapped back to attention when his chin hit his chest. “MARSHMALLOW! D’y’know how t’ drive one of those excav… eckssa… feckin’… digger thingsh?”
“Huh? Excalib…ecksivater?” He scratched his head. “Oh! Yeah, I got a comm.. Commershal license. I can drive one a’ those. Bu’ where’re we gonna get one?”
Cheslav, who had been idly listening to their conversation, suddenly stood up. “Comrades, Cheslav is of having idea.”
The four of them stumbled over to the human dorm, Cheslav taking the lead. Despite drinking the highest volume of alcohol, he seemed to be the least inhibited. Then again, that’s to be expected of a full-blooded Russian.
“Of this way, comrades, Cheslav has perfect plan to get eskyavator.” He brought them to a parking lot behind the dorm, where a green milsurp soviet truck was parked, carrying several barrels marked “Cosmoline.”
“Thisssizznt an excatruck, it’sa big cargo… truck… thing.” Church walked up and leaned against the front of it.
“Da, but tovarisch, we will get eskyavator using truck.”
“H-how d’ya reckon we’reuhhh… gonna do tha?”
“Hop in magic Cosmoline truck and find out.” Cheslav beckoned his friends inside.
“I call th’ froont, get in th’back Marshmallow.” Church slurred, gimping to the passenger seat of the truck and slouching against the seat while Prudence sat on his lap.
“What’re you doing youuu fackin’… oh, whatever.” Church couldn’t bring himself to care.
“Oh boy, ishlike a firetruck!” Marshall climbed onto the back, sitting down with his back against a barrel of cosmo. Cheslav turned the keys in the ignition, and they drove off.
The drive was surprisingly long, they were going down an unmarked dirt road with no signs in sight, surrounded by trees. All the light they had were the headlights of Cheslav’s truck, and it barely illuminated the road in front of them. Even though Cheslav had driven this route many times, driving it drunk was causing him to swerve every so often to prevent running himself off the road.
“You suuuure y’know what you’re doin, Chappy boy?” Church asked, Prudence’s bushy tail swatting him across the face.
“Agh! St-stop that, woman! You’re gonna fackin’… make me go blind’re somethin’.”
“Shorry Mashter, it’s just sooo exsi… exciting to be out here wif’ you… m-makes it hard to control my tail.”
“Well finnnda way t’control it, before I grab it.”
“Mmmm, Mashter please~” She continued to wag her tail in his lap.
“Here we are, comrades.” Cheslav said as he started to slow down the truck. The trees previously obstructing their vision cleared up, revealing a quaint little marketplace. Cheslav narrowly missed running over a trashcan as he pulled into the curb. As soon as he parked, an eastern European man saw his truck and shouted, “CYKA BLYAT, IS COMRADE CHESLAV, OUR SAVIOR!”
In an instant, hundreds of other gopniks, dresy, marozai, and urlas poured out into the street, surrounding the truck of precious cargo.
“Czego chcesz, koleś?” One of the dres asked, stroking a barrel of cosmoline.
“Eskyavator, kurwa!” He shouted, some of the Polish in the crowd nodded and ran off.
“This place is… messier’n the Crimean war. The hell was that boy saying, Chappy?”
“Do not know, was Pole. This is ultimate market, friend. Can get anything for right amount of cosmoline.”
“Cheslaaaav, what’s a cosmoooliine? Is it some kinda druug?” Prudence asked, grabbing onto Cheslav’s shoulders and hanging off of them.
“Nyet Prudence, cosmoline is eastern Europe’s most precious and coveted material, keeps metal from rusting and drying out in cold, harsh winter. Also preserves anything you put it on.”
“Oooooh, so does it work on food?”
“Babushka would use cosmo as cooking oil all the time.” Cheslav boasted.
“Woooow!” Prudence had a great newfound respect for this… cosmoline.
“GET OUT OF THE WAY, BLYAT!” Shouted a gopnik from the crowd.
A group of men and horses drag a yellow excavator through the mob, a man squatting on the roof shouting profanity as they went along. As they rolled up, the man on the roof jumped off, landing in front of Cheslav.
“Oi, yebat’sya srat’sya, I give you forty-five litres, no more.” Cheslav said, walking up to the other man.
“No, no, not mine. You talk with boss.” At this, the other man shouted to one of his subordinates. “BLYAT! WHY HAVE YOU NOT OPENED DOOR!?”
The door was thrown open, and out stepped…
An old woman wearing a headscarf? She had to be less than 5 feet tall, though her apron and slouch made her seem shorter. As she hopped out of the excavator’s cab, she hit the first man over the head with a rolling pin that had been stashed in her apron.
“OI! No cursing, you gopnik boys! You turn out same as deadbeat fathers! Your mamas are crying!”
“Eh, blin, s-sorry babushka, was-”
“Do not care! Come home drunk and swearing one more time, Aleksei, and you get worse than rolling pin!”
The old lady turned to Cheslav, walking up to him.
“Cheslav! Teach these bad boys to be good man like you, always visiting babushka!” She embraced Cheslav, then held him out to arm’s length.
“Eh, babushka, need eskyavator for special project tonight. Brought drum of cosmoline for payings…”
“Only need digging truck? I give, I give, but Cheslav, you are of lookings so thin! Take extra pelmeni for new friends. Oh! Takings extra kompot, have too much! BOYS! FILL CHESLAV TRUCK WITH KOMPOT BARRELS!”
“O-of waitings, babushka, do not need-”
The old woman, not listening, began handing out several plates of food to the men, smiling at the kikimora as she passed.
The crowd of men began unloading the cosmoline from the back, rolling massive wooden barrels of juice in their place. Cheers went up when the last barrel was loaded, the man named Aleksei patting Cheslav on the back.
“Cheslav, you are true hero. Can finally build cosmo slippings-and-slidings in warehouse for quick movings!”
After they bid their farewells, the raiders drove away from the marketplace, with the excavator being towed behind Cheslav’s truck and Marshall snoozing on top of the kompot barrels.
Once they arrived at the town’s central park, the four of them got out and surveyed the area.
“Ah, this’s perfect!” Church stood in front of the statue at the center of the park; a man shaking hands with a lilim, which marked the first contact of men and monster. “Th’perfect spot to build our glooorious monument. This statue has t’go though.” He kicked the base.
“Marshall, of wakings, tovarisch.” Cheslav gently shook the snoozing cowboy, who stirred on top of his kompot barrel bed.
“Nnnnnokay, I’m up, I’m up.” Marshall groaned, he had slept off some of the alcohol, though it gave him a splitting headache. “Goddamn my head is throbbin,’ what’s goin on?”
“Have procured eskyavator.” Cheslav pointed to the excavator just behind the truck.
“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding.” Marshall couldn’t believe his eyes. The absolute madman! “Can’t wait to drive this thing!” He got off the back of the truck, though still wobbly, and made his way to the excavator.
“Marshmallow! You… you’re awake! Quick, I needja t’ destroy that statue with your driving skills.”
“Hmm? One sec.” Marshall threw open the excavator cab and climbed inside. “I’m havin’ a bit of trouble seein’ what ya need me to destroy, lemme jus’ turn these…” He flipped on the headlights, which illuminated the statue in front of it. “Is that what you need taken out?”
“Yeah, that one ri’… tttthere. Jes’… swing at it a bit n’ we can build my monnament on its rubble.”
“Gotcha, boss.” Marshall started up the excavator, then swung the shovel into the side like a wrecking ball, taking both statues clean off their pedestal.
“Woooooo!” Church and Prudence cheered, while Cheslav squatted on top of his truck and watched with awe.
“Haha! We’ve dunnit! Now t’build our monu- waaaait a sec.”
“We forgot th’ cem’nt we needa cotstr- eeeer… build th’ feckin’ thing! Blast it all!”
“Is okay comrades, can build out of dirt!”
“Oh yeeeaah, like a… burial mound’re some shit!” Church stumbled over to the base and started to scoop up handfuls of dirt.
Just then, they heard sirens in the distance.
“Awwww shit, we’re in trouble now.” Marshall scrambled to get out of the excavator cab, nearly falling out of it in the process.
“Quickly comrades, into the Blyat Machine!” Cheslav motioned his friends to pile back into his truck, and they disappeared back into the woods.
Marshall stretched out on his bed. Aww, fuck. His head was pounding, and he couldn’t remember anything after he’d talked to Prudence last night.
He rose groggily from his bed, stumbling toward his dresser to change out of the whiskey-soaked clothes he’d apparently slept in. Throwing his old clothes in a heap, he began digging through the dresser. Jeans. Shirt. Socks, and…
His boxers were all gone, but the drawer was still full of… panties? They were small, and after a moment he got a whiff of them. They definitely weren’t clean. Goddammit. That ruled out Church, then, he’d never touch them. Did… Did someone break into his dorm, then? He looked around, but nothing else was missing.
He pulled out his phone, checking to see if he’d gotten any messages, and- Shit. Class was starting in ten minutes. And wasn’t that quiz today? Throwing on his clothes in a rush, he sprinted to his class halfway across the campus.
Damn it all. He’d sprinted all the way here just to find out the professor was late. Marshall dropped himself into a seat beside Cheslav.
“Hey, uh, weird question, but… Did anyone break into your dorm last night?”
“No, room is safe as bunker, comrade.”
Marshall rested his face in his hands. Was he going crazy? Maybe he just stole them last night? His head hurt too much to think about it any more.
“A-are these seats taken~?” Looking up, he saw that elf who he’d given his number to, back in their dorm. Saria, was it? Natasha, the wight who’d helped them with the vampire dorm was with her, too.
“Uh, no, I guess?” If Church hadn’t come yet, he was probably going to sleep through the class. Marshall briefly thought about giving him a wake-up call, but he never answered when he was hung-
Marshall looked at his phone. It was… Church?
“Uh… H-hey? Why aren’t ya in class?”
“I need you to…” Church hesitated, clicking his tongue unhappily. “…Do me a… a favour.”
Marshall was taken aback. Did… did someone kill Church and replace him with someone who could do a good impression of him? He’d never ask for help…
“It’s an emergency, Marshall.”
“Uh, ‘kay? What is it?”
“You need to… Er… Look, just go to the corner store, buy some underwear and bring it to my room.”
“Just do it. …Please.”
Marshall agreed, hanging up confused. Saria leaned over, looking at Marshall’s phone.
“Soooo… Your friend had his underwear stolen?”
He cocked his head. “Uh, he didn’t say that, but…”
“OH! Um, uh, l-lucky guess?! Haha…”
“Well, makes sense, probably. Can’t think of a reason he’d need ‘em otherwise…”
“Yeah, um, t-that’s what I was thinking! Did anything, uh, w-well… Did you find anything in your room?”
“Dunno, might just be some in the laundry for me, but it looks like I brought some random panties home or something yesterday. Got kinda drunk, so we must’ve ended up on a raid or something.”
“Ha, m-maybe you just ended up charming the panties right off someone with those cowboy charms… Eheh…” Saria pushed her glasses up her nose.
Marshall raised his eyebrows. “Really? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you took em with how much my ‘cowboy charm’ seems to have worked on you. Eheheh…” He joked.
Saria froze in a panic. D-did he know?! Her ears were sweaty, knees weak, arms were heavy.
There was drool on her tunic already. (Mon’s spaghetti.)
He didn’t seem too mad though… M-maybe he even used them? The elf paused, thinking a little harder. …Was he…
Marshall gave her another awkward smile, then looked away.
She held up a hand to her face, now bright red. Her gaze slowly floated down to Marshall’s crotch. H-he must be… She imagined what it must have looked like, him taking her tiny panties and putting them on, a-and coming to class… She pushed up her glasses again in an attempt to calm herself down. ‘O-okay, Saria, just don’t… I’ve gotta s-stop drooling, at least…’ She wiped her mouth, looking down at her hand to discover… blood?
Marshall thought about the girl to his side. He was surprised she’d come to talk to him again, with the whole ‘gas grenade’ thing… He felt pretty bad about it… Maybe he could just say something to smooth it over? It’s not like she seemed like a bad girl, really. He looked over at the elf, blood running endlessly out of her nose, as she panicked, stuttering and staring at him.
“Aw, shit, Saria, you okay? You’re bleedin’ there!”
“Ah, u-um… there wasn’t any in those, was there?!”
“What? Look, you oughta get to the bathroom or something.”
“R-right!?” She stood up stiffly, making a mad dash for the door, only turning around to yell “I’ll be waiting!”
Natasha glanced at Cheslav a few times, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t even looked when Saria ran out of the room with a bloody nose. She wanted to talk to him, but…
‘Ah, dammit, just say the first thing that comes to your mind, girl, you’re a wight! Nobility!’
“H-hey, big boy, did I ever tell you I was impressed by that running of yours? You have such graaaaceful form~”
‘NO! Not like that! He’s going to think you’re-’
“Da. Is faster this way.”
“Aha… Right. It must be awfully hard to get that fast without magic… I bet you have impressive muscles.”
Natasha screamed internally. He didn’t even look her way once! And what was with these short answers?! Was he mad?
“So… Uh… Your friend got his underwear stolen… Did anything happen to you?”
“No, room is safe.”
“Oh? D-do you have some kind of scary monster in there? Haha…”
The wight thought back to last night. She’d gone to his room solo while the rest of the team hit the other dorms. She thought it’d be fine, but…
She had found the door to his apartment unlocked, but as soon as she had opened the door, she felt a deep sense of foreboding. She had thought she’d be okay, so she stepped in. As soon as she did, though, she heard a sound like the grating of nails on a chalkboard. Reaching his bedroom, she began shaking when she saw a single glowing point in the dark. She hadn’t been sure of what it was, until it blinked. She’d fled in terror after that.
Natasha was snapped out of her remembrance when Cheslav answered her.
“Nyet, is friend, not monster. Came from same place as Cheslav, have same babushka. Grew up strong together like brothers on vodka and chicken shashlik. Saved each other more times than can count in English.”
“R-really? Who is he?”
“Comrade Cluckers. Raised him like son from egg. Is very good- no, is best chicken.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. A chicken? Then what the hell was with that atmosphere back then? She felt like an idiot. Nobility? Jesus Christ, she suddenly felt like she was on the same level as that weird fujoshi elf.
Saria stood in the bathroom, alone. Her nose had stopped bleeding about 10 minutes ago, but she was still bent over the sink, panties around her ankles, waiting for Marshall to come in and take her. She’d found the perfect place where she could still see him in the mirror when he came, so she could get a look at those tight panties around that muscular… She drooled from both ends in anticipation. It was going to be worth it when he came in and- The door opened and the elf squeaked in excitement.
Marcy walked down the hall, swinging her barbed tail. It felt good to finally be done that stupid history quiz, but she had to piss something fierce. Fuckin’ prof wouldn’t let her leave before everyone was done the quiz, probably because she was just jealous of manticores being able to get good men. Fuckin’ sheepbitches.
She opened the door, striding straight to the stall when-
There was an elf bent over the sink, dry blood all over her face and the counters. And was she… Masturbating?
“…What the fuck?”
She jumped, pulling her fingers away from her crotch to push up a particularly dorky-looking pair of glasses to start stuttering incomprehensibly and disrobing.
“I’m gonna fuckin’… shit, just clean yourself up, I’m using a different bathroom.”