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The world passed Narva by in a dreamlike haze. Whatever Veija had slipped her had failed to knock her out entirely. Perhaps it was never meant to. She remained dimly aware of herself and her surroundings, though she felt sealed away. She could not operate her body in any meaningful sense; not to speak, not to move even a finger. All sensation passed to her as though through thick cheesecloth. As if it were happening to someone else.

She’d been brought into Veija’s room. The one-time comrade, a fellow kobold, and now (apparent) crime lord, had offered to free her from slavery under Rhix if only she submitted to him. She’d sucked his dick, raised her tail, allowed him to fuck her. All had been mere pretense. He’d drugged her. She felt herself picked up and could hear him grunting a little with the effort of dragging her off the bed. There was a sensation of moving to a different space; the air was musty and stale.

“Finished with her?” asked a voice. Narva’s eyes couldn’t pick up who. They rolled in her head, taking in dark walls, and a dark floor. Indistinct shapes.

“Not even close. She’s going up on stage tonight.” That was Veija. She felt him adjust his grip on her. Someone else grabbed her as well.

“Not going to keep her?” asked the other one holding her. A second voice. Three in total.

“Maybe after she’s had a taste of humility,” Veija answered, and they were moving again. “Get rid of the shu,” Veija added. “Dump him in the river.”

Narva reached into every corner of what consciousness remained to her to see if there were any levers of control. Could she move a foot? An arm? Her head, her eyes, her tongue? No. Each time it was as if she were encountering locked doors, or great canyons that separated her from her higher faculties. She was dragged, one arm over each shoulder, her toes sliding across the floor.

Rhix. They were going to kill Rhix and she was now some kind of plaything. At least under Rhix, she understood who she was attached to. Rhix wanted to be rid of her nearly as much as she did of him, but Veija was something else entirely. He had true animosity. She might be in some real trouble.

The world continued to drift past. The scent of the air changed as they moved out of one space and into another. Grays and blacks became browns and tans. Then black again. Developing any kind of mental map of where she was taken was impossible.

Going up on stage, he’d said. A slave auction. Part of Veija’s underground network. That seemed the likeliest option. This meant that, with Rhix dead, her options were either to be taken as a slave prostitute or perhaps more likely thrown into some kind of dangerous labor - mining, most likely. Not much else of use for a trained kobold like her. Neither were rosy prospects.

For the first time in her life, she hoped Rhix was okay.

***

Rhix leaned back, hands on his face. “Okay,” he said, into his palms. “It has been much too long.”

“Boss takes as long as he pleases,” one of the kobolds said. There were five of them in the room; the card game was still going, aided by the fact that they weren’t playing for money anyway; they’d taken it all when they’d captured him and Narva. It was just something to pass the time, though cards without real stakes hardly substituted.

Rhix fixed the speaker with a sharp look. “She’s mine,” he said. “Ultimately. And I don’t care if he’s the boss or not, he’s gotta respect my things.”

“Boss does as he pleases,” added one of the card players, tossing his hand to the table.

Rhix pushed himself up to his feet. “Well, if he’s having trouble maybe I can poke my head in and give him some pointers.”

The brazenness with which Rhix approached the big oaken door seemed to take the other kobolds by surprise. Only one managed to leap to his feet and dart before him. “You’re not allowed!” it barked.

Rhix’s penchant for impulsivity served him well once again; his backhand was immediate, the kobold utterly unprepared. It barked as it was knocked firmly to the side. The rest of the room was on their feet by the time Rhix gripped the door and threw it open.

This caught the kobold within by surprise. This was a new one (six now, Rhix’s combat veteran mind noted quickly). It froze, mid-stride towards the door Rhix was now blocking. The room within smelled like sex but contained no Veija, no Narva, and no immediate evidence as to where they might of gone or how.

The kobolds in front of him pointed and barked. “Kill him, boss says kill him!”

Rhix heard the clicking of hand crossbows behind him.

“Ah,” he said. “Shit.”

***

Narva began to pick up a miasma of new odors. Of ale and cooked meat and vegetables. Of bread and salt. Scented candles, oils. Burnt wood and smoke.

There were voices as well. Most of them masculine. They murmured in low tones. Not many, and far away. Separated by a wall, perhaps? Or doors? As she was dragged across this larger space, she heard one or two intakes of breath, and what may have been a confused, inquisitive feminine noise. More of an utterance, not words.

“Really works out,” she heard Veija say. “Had an open spot and this one fell into my lap, pure profit.”

“Yeah,” said the other kobold, as they hoisted her up a few stairs onto a wooden platform. “Are you gonna let us get a crack at her?”

“Only if you chip in on the raffle,” Veija said, dismissively. “And never her cunt, that’s mine. I won’t have you mongrels putting any eggs in her.”

“Aw, boss.”

“Ain’t you got a flux down there from some whore anyway?” Veija asked as Narva felt her body being manipulated. Her arms were pulled back, wrists bound together. Some kind of glove or sleeve was then pulled over them.

“Yeah but it ain’t flared up in-”

“Uuoogh,” said a voice. Narva recognized it as her own.

“Wow, she’s already coming out of it,” Veija said, a tinge of admiration in his voice. “She always was a tough girl. Come on, we gotta get her secure, then you can tell me all about your dick warts.”

“They’re not warts!” the lackey protested, as Narva felt her legs pulled apart, ankles fixed with cuffs and then linked to something, keeping them spread. She felt a tingling all over her body. Not enough to move anything on her own, but a sensation of the basic connection of control being reforged between her mind and her flesh.

Her tail was grabbed and yanked up. She felt a small belt tighten around it, and this was linked to whatever was binding her wrists. They clipped something to the front of her collar and there was a sound of a rope being pulled through something; her collar was forced down and she with it, bending her at the waist. Their hands on her kept her stable, for the moment.

“What an ass,” the (diseased?) lackey remarked.

“Tight as a drum, too,” Veija boasted, and Narva felt her stomach turn. They easily pried open her mouth and something was pushed into it. Something they tied around the back of her head and secured to her horns. Something that forced her mouth to remain open, but only to a convenient degree to allow passage of a penis, she morosely reflected.

What came next was quite uncomfortable. Her arms and tail were hoisted up, bending her in such a way as to arch her back and contort her body into a bent-over posture. A rope was run to something above her and tied off, holding her in that position. Stark naked, tail up, arms strappado, and legs spread, she was utterly helpless from the back or front. Whatever they secured her to kept her upright, such that she didn’t immediately crumple when they released their grip on her; rather, she was left standing, spread open and bent over.

A dreadful thought crept upon her: perhaps this was not a slave action after all. Maybe it was something far worse.

Veija was by her head. He grabbed her horn and jerked her head back to look at him. She drooled from her forced-open mouth, having regained enough control to at least gaze at him hatefully.

“You’re a tough girl,” he said, meeting her eyes. “So a night on stage for my cabaret is hardly going to ‘break’ you, I’m sure. But it’ll put things in perspective. Give you a taste of how life could be if you don’t become my nice, obedient, tail-raising little eggwarmer.” He patted her on the cheek and let her head go, allowing it to sag exhausted in its bindings. “Have fun, cunt. I know I will.”

The other kobold slapped her stiffly on the ass, eliciting an unguarded yelp from her. This was answered by indistinct whimpers on either side of her, but she was soon enveloped in darkness. Slowly regained control, she could see that a blanket or tarp had been thrown over her, supported by a larger apparatus above her; whatever she was strapped to, she imagined.

It was not a good sign that her shoulders were already starting to ache.

Her senses continued to sharpen. Far too late for her to do anything with them, but it was progress of a sort. She flexed her fingers and toes, worked her arms, and tried the flexibility of her legs. There wasn’t much to work with. To her left and right she kept hearing the occasional whimper. Far to her left, she could hear a female softly sobbing. It seemed she was not alone.

***

“Tell me how they got out of this room,” Rhix said, blinking slowly at the walls of Veija’s inner chambers. “Sometime before I pass out, please.”

“Waaghaaabglhe…” said the only kobold left alive, out of the remains of his mouth.

Rhix nodded. One of his arms hung dislocated at his side. That was giving him some pain. Worse was the creeping sensation that he was losing blood. One of the half-dozen little wounds he’d taken in the melee had nicked something important.

It seemed likely to him that even if he was smart enough to work out whatever secret escape mechanism was in the room, he’d pass out from blood loss before he could make any good use of it.

Take stock. He was beaten and sliced half to death and wasn’t smart enough to figure out how Narva had been smuggled out of the room. But, wherever she was, she was nearby and alive. So perhaps he had time to find someone who was smart, and who could perhaps do something about his rather unfortunate circumstances, vis a vie his creeping mortality.

Who did he know in town who was smart?

***

Time passed, giving Narva ample opportunity to come completely back to her senses and reflect on the hopelessness of her situation. She’d wiggled, she’d twisted. She tried to tug this way and that. Could she lift her head? No, that rope was thick and the knotting secure. Her hands? Sleeved, she could not use her fingers and the angle her arms were pulled at left her with too little leverage. Legs spread apart and cuffed to sturdy wooden posts, the best she could do was wiggle her hips a bit; she could not even squat, with her tail bound up in the mix with her arms.

All she could do was remain there, almost panting with the effort of keeping herself supported so she did not overexert the pressure on her arms and shoulders. Her tail proved useful for this; by tensing it, she could equalize some of the pressure and keep herself in a sort of ass-up equilibrium.

It was enough to almost distract her from what appeared to be her imminent reality: she was clearly on some kind of stage, bound bent over and helpless, gagged in such a way as to keep her mouth available for use, with her ass facing what sounded like a growing audience. Their voices - all male - filtered through the heavy tarp that covered her, draped over the apparatus that kept her secure. She heard calls for ale and speculation on the ‘girls’. She could smell cooked food and hear the quaffing of beverages. How long had it been since she’d quaffed anything? One of the little pleasures in life that was no longer available to her.

“Gentlemen!” called a merry voice. Veija. He was somewhere nearby on the stage. He sounded happy. Like someone who just got laid, she thought to herself venomously. “Your patronage is appreciated! Settle in, get comfortable, get a drink or two; the raffle will begin momentarily. But first, as many of you may well know, we must introduce you to our girls for the night!”

Narva felt a chill roll through her body. To her left and right, she heard sounds of struggling, and the sobbing of one of the girls increased.

“As always, all five girls are new and untested for your enjoyment tonight, selected for their tight bodies and untrained disposition! First among them, a rare breed indeed - a karakka girl whose brilliant blue plumage looks as rich as her family used to be! Sadly, her merchant father fell into debts so extreme he had little choice but to sell off his possessions - his unwed daughter the most prized among them! Say hello to - Perrieaux!”

Narva picked up the sound of fabric being quickly moved and a feminine squeal; she recognized the voice from the sobbing before. The crowd cheered uproariously. Narva shook her head, panic rising in her chest. She tried to steady her breathing.

Over the sound of the girl’s sobbing, Narva heard Veija go on: “This scaly beauty comes to us courtesy of her own savage hubris! Taken captive during a failed raid on the grain stores of nearby Rothdam, she was swiftly collared, put up on the blocks, and now is put to much better use! She may be a savage, but her holes are as tight and warm as anyone’s! Meet Xhakhi!”

Another sound of fabric being sharply pulled. Another boisterous cheer from the crowd, and a flurry of violent snarling. This was all right beside Narva. Oh gods, she was next!

Panic rose within her and despite herself, she struggled one final time against the ropes and cuffs that bound her. The universe stubbornly failed to conspire a fortuitous fraying of the rope or failure of the steel hooks that held her firmly in place.

“This one is personal,” Veija announced. “A one-time paramour, this little thing teased me to no end, only to pull her affections away from me at the last moment! A successful mercenary, she thought herself strong enough and rich enough that she had no use for me, and told me so with a knife between my ribs! Well, fate plays a funny game sometimes - please put your hands together for NARVA!”

The tarp covering her was pulled away. Despite herself, Narva squealed at the shock of having her spread open hindquarters suddenly revealed in full glory for the rapturous appreciation of what looked like a hundred men or more. The room was lit by numerous torches and braziers. There were tables, presently used to hold haunches of cooked meat, bowls of stew, and lots of ale. The men present were almost entirely human; she could spot a few shapes that might have been elves, karakka, shu, or perhaps even orcs.

Applause flooded over her. She looked around and took in the rest of the scene. The two other revealed girls were to her left. They were both naked and bound in the exact manner she was; strappado, tail bound up, bent over away from the crowd, with a fixture in their mouths to keep them open. The nearest was a furious-looking green-scaled shu girl. The lizardwoman hissed through the gag, her head snapping back and forth to peer back at the audience hatefully. The other was a weeping blue-feathered karakka. The avian girl was staring straight ahead, crying with her eyes wide open, her beak streaked with tears. Narva could see both girls working their hindquarters and realized that Narva was doing the same, inadvertently winking her anus at the crowd as she instinctively tried to lower her tail to cover her shame. Tears stung her eyes.

She thought she was desensitized. She thought she was stronger than this. She was wrong. Oh gods, these men were going to rape them. Over and over. Where was Rhix?!

Narva flinched as she felt Veija’s hand caress her backside. He strode past her and went on: “Now this one - fascinating situation here! Not a mercenary, not an assassin! This one thought she was some kind of fabled hero! She was brought down by my men as she was trying to rescue the bluebird. She thought herself a noble heart, even special! Well, now she joins the girls on stage! The elven heroine, Minuvae!”

Veija jerked the tarp to the side, revealing a naked elven woman bound up in very much the same way as all of them. Lacking a tail, her neck was instead bound a little further down, her arms a little further up, to better encourage her to roll those hips and straighten her legs to keep her standing and from dislocating her arms. She, too, was crying, though with a resolute look on her face and a deadpan stare straight forward. Veija spanked her and she flinched, jiggling her firm breasts.

As the crowd applauded the fallen heroine’s naked ass, Narva took in the apparatus they were all strapped to. Each one was individual, a simple structure of two wooden posts linked with a crossbeam at the top. To this, their bound arms (and tails) were tied. Looking down, Narva noted that her ankles were cuffed to the base of either post, but furthermore, the overall apparatus seemed to be sitting upon a raised bit of the stage. Shaped like a circle, the wood was cut differently and raised ever so slightly, with a small lever set in the stage beside it. She gawped at it for a moment, but could not discern its purpose.

“Finally,” Veija was saying, “we have the last girl. Not one month earlier, the Star Knights drove her tribe from these lands, sending them to the far corners of the earth! This one fell into captivity, and of course, what use will those chaste bastards have with a nubile young thing, eh? None! But with enough coin and contact, I can unveil to you: Spring Blossom!”

The tarp was yanked to the side, revealing a svelt Faline girl. Naked of course, bound of course, her furry, feline form was on display for the hooting of the masses. Narva’s eyes widened a bit at the sight of her, is only for the rarity of her kind. They were much-loathed, the tribal cat people, even more so than the shu, and she thought long since driven to the other end of the continent. Apparently, this female was a victim of a tribe that was slow to learn.

The feline’s fur was striped orange and black. Her eyes were wild with fear, mouth forced open like the rest of them, pert ass thrust up and spread open for the cheering crowd. Like the elven girl and unlike the Narva, the lizard woman, or the karakka, Spring Blossom had breasts; similar to the elf, they were firm, rounded, and perky.

Narva felt nearly sick with embarrassment. For all her lifetime effort to set herself apart, to elevate her life, to make something of herself - now she was simply one in a line of naked slave asses, spread open and exposed to a hooting audience of hungry men eager to ravish them.

“As we resolve the first raffle,” Veija remarked, we must have our first wager! Start your bets!”

Narva turned to look at Veija, who walked behind the stage, and thus in front of the bound girls. He smirked at them, his eyes lingering on Narva for just a moment before one of his lackeys approached and handed him a large wooden paddle with holes cut into it. “Eyes here, girls,” he said, grinning at them. He patted his palm with the paddle. “Here’s how this night goes. We have a short series of contests and you girls will compete. First prize is, you don’t get punished. Second place is you get punished a tiny bit. Third place is you get punished a bit more. You get the idea.”

Narva was unsure if the bird girl, Perrieaux, was even paying attention. The tribal shu girl was merely glaring and hissing angrily through her gag. Looking to her right, the Elf was still staring resolutely into the middle distance, but the Faline seemed to be paying attention. Narva knew what she was in for - this was like one of Rhix’s little games. No way to win. Plenty of ways to lose. Thankfully - and she couldn’t believe she was thinking of it this way - but Rhix’s ‘training’ might serve her well here.

“Are the bets all in?” Veija called out to the crowd. He stepped to the front of the stage and then over behind the squirming karakka. Perrieaux wailed through her gag, pulling at her bound feet, jerking her body back and forth. She was held as fast and secure. Narva narrowed her eyes and tried to silently will the panicking girl to calm herself. She was never going to make it if she didn’t steel herself-

“One!” called Veija, and the paddle swung around with an audible hiss of passing wind, striking the poor bird girl on her ample backside.

Perrieaux screamed.

Veija nearly doubled over laughing. Most of the audience was as well. As the bird girl sobbed, many in the audience slapped the backs and jeered at the mere handful of men who had seemingly wagered on her. Narva, however, just watched as the bird girl sobbed openly. Narva shook her head. There was nothing she could do to help her.

The shu was next. The lizard girl snarled as Veija took up position behind her. He called out ‘One!’ and brought the paddle around into her ass. The girl flinched but choked back a hiss. A two was called, and the paddle swung again. Then again, for three. Again, for four. Narva saw tears forming in the lizard girl’s eyes, and could see her squirming.

Five landed, the crowd cheering now. Veija tenderly rubbed the girl’s rump, making her flinch. Number six must have caught her by surprise. When it landed, the shu girl squealed in a voice that was very feminine indeed; gone was the defiant snarling and hissing, instead regaling the audience with a drawn-out wail.

“Five cleared!” Veija called out, waving the paddle. Then he approached Narva.

She steadied her breathing; tried to quell the fear inside her. She felt so exposed. As vulnerable as she’d ever felt in her life. Her shoulders hurt. Maybe if she focused on that, it would distract from-

“One!”

The strike of the paddle nearly took her breath away. With her mouth forced open by the gag, there was no hope to choke off a cry with her lips or by clamping up. She simply had to suppress it at the source. The pain was incredible. It radiated in hot waves from her ass, leaving a tingling-

“Two!”

The sound of the paddle clapping her ass resonated like a thunderclap; the pain was like lightning. Her toes curled, and she shook. Oh gods, she had to take four more to beat the shu?

“Three!”

The crowd cheered and Narva almost broke. Her head arched up and her hands clenched in the bag. Her ass was on fire. The embarrassment of exposure gave way entirely in favor of a test of endurance. She looked over at the sobbing bird girl. Focus on her. Focus on someone else.

“Four!”

Narva rocked forward and uttered a strained “Hhhhhh!” Tears clouded her vision. She shook her head and looked around. The other girls were watching her. Even the elf, who gave her a steely look of resolve. The Faline looked fearful. Panting openly, Narva gave her a hopeful smile. They’d make it together. They’d-

“Five!”

The paddle connected. Narva heard herself shriek. “EEeaaahhh!” There were disappointed shouts in the audience, and more applause. Narva would have collapsed were it not for the tight bondage holding her in place. A part of her was relieved. Whatever punishment they had in store, could it possibly be worse?

Narva slowly recovered as Veija went down the line. The elf, surprisingly, only lasted three. Her round, smooth, pale-skinned backside was the only one that showed the fresh red color of her paddling, which got a lot of commentary from the crowd. Her steely demeanor cracked on the fourth strike, eliciting a sharp cry from the fallen heroine.

The Faline lasted two. As Veija approached her, she was already shaking her head and begging mercy through her gag; Veija took a moment to mock her garbled speech, indecipherable through the ring gag, before he started. On the third strike, the Faline broke down, yowling in pain.

“We have our rankings!” Veija called, and there was a round of cheers from those who had bet on the shu. “And now for the punishment.”

When Veija returned with a riding crop, Narva nearly pissed herself. Her eyes shot open wide and now she was the one shaking her head in a desperate plea for mercy. Veija met her eyes and only grinned at her. “You’re only taking one,” he scolded, swinging the crop up between her legs.

Narva’s undignified shriek echoed in the room. That it was a familiar pain did little to deaden its intensity. Her pussy throbbed in fresh agony as the crop left behind its horrible sting.

Seeing this, the other girls - elf included - all began pleading as well. It didn’t work. Only the shu was spared; the proud ‘winner’. The elf was next, crying out as her hairless pussy absorbed two sharp slaps from the crop. The Faline sobbed and shook and wailed as she was subjected to three.

Perrieaux barely had the strength to beg. Her big eyes just watched as Veija approached, trembling with fear. Veija pulled back the crop, and then stopped. The crowd roared with cheers and laughter. Veija chuckled and rested the crop back in his palm, taking a moment to watch as the karakka girl’s courage failed utterly, and she pissed on the stage.

Narva hung her head, listening to the bird girl sob as she debased herself in front of everyone. Veija had described her as born into wealth. Sold recently, to cover her father’s debts. To say this was anyone’s world was insane, but if it was anyone's, it was not hers. From comfort and silks to pissing herself before a large mocking crowd of her future rapists. Narva shuddered. The night had only just begun.

Veija’s patience lasted exactly as long as Perrieaux’s bladder did. As soon as the bird girl was finished with a shameful shudder, he began. Her shrill squealing was horrible to listen to. It was whack, scream. Whack, scream. Whack, scream. Whack, scream. Whack, scream.

Narva averted her eyes and spotted five men ascending the stage from the other side with eager looks on their faces. They handed tickets to one of Veija’s kobolds, and then stepped onto the stage itself, reaching to their belts and waist-ties.

Narva stared in growing horror as one approached her, bearing a kneeling stool. He stepped beside and kicked the lever, taking hold of one of the posts that made up her binding apparatus. She felt something click under her, and then he was able to rotate the platform. It moved with a slow and heavy inertia, facing her to the crowd. As she rotated, she saw the other girls were on similar mechanisms, and she thus also pivoted to face their audience. It stopped suddenly with an audible wooden clonk, leaving her facing the audience with her bare ass and exposed pussy facing the man who was, at that moment, setting the stool behind her.

Tears filled her eyes. She tried to blink them free, scanning the audience. No Rhix in sight. She heard fabric rustling behind her. She turned her head to her left and right. Perrieaux stared at the audience in naked terror. Xhakhi glared at them, her reptilian body quivering with rage. The elf had her eyes closed, and the Faline hung her head in shame. She saw the other men behind them take small vials of what appeared to be oil, pouring them into the palms of their hands. Most already had their erect cocks pulled from their opened pants. Narva turned her head to look behind her. The rough-looking young man was staring at her pussy with a self-satisfied grin, his hand gliding over his thick member until it shone with a light coating of oil.

Perrieaux was the first to cry out as the man behind her thrust inside her tight avian slit. Narva watched the girl jerk forward at the power of the man’s initial thrust. To her left, the elven captive choked off a gasp as her own smooth sex was forced open around a crude human cock. Narva felt hands grip her hips. The spongey head of the man’s thick, oiled human cock pressed to her dry pussy.

“Oh, I can feel how tight you are babygirl,” he said, as Narva stared at the audience. To her right, the lizard girl angrily hissed, the big man behind her thrusting in harshly. The faline was wailing low and loud as she was taken.

Then Narva added her voice to the chorus.

The man gripped her hips and pulled her back as he thrust forward. Her tight sex yielded to his oiled length, and she uttered an undignified yelping grunt as she felt him penetrate her. Her toes splayed out, her hips arching in an instinctive attempt to ease the passage of his massive member. He was crude and brusque. There was no art to his motions, no caring given to her whatever. No sooner was he inside than he was thrusting, single-mindedly rutting her with the sole objective of his own pleasure. Her presence was incidental.

The room filled with casual conversation, a general roar of a large crowd of men enjoying an evening out of drink and ribaldry, undercut with the regular slap of flesh and pathetic feminine mewling as the five exotic females on stage all endured a rough and degrading fucking from behind. Whatever stoic courage had been summoned bled away as five tight pussies were violated for the entertainment of the crowd. The bird sobbed, the lizard thrashed, the kobold yelped, the elf whined, and the feline whimpered. Rumps were spanked as they were fucked. Balls slapped against unimpressed clits. Men grunted. Hips clapped against asses. Wood creaked.

Narva’s head and body rocked with the eager pumping of the man raping her. The oil certainly helped, but her pussy felt uncomfortable, to say the least of it. He bottomed out in her, his tip punching her insides. He was a little shorter than Rhix, but all that meant was he could take her balls deep and it hurt. Looking to her left and right, the other girls were not faring any better. Each of them was in their own little world, unable to communicate, unable to move. Bent over and helpless, sleeves of flesh for the lusts of the men taking them.

Even the shu girl, the largest of them, squeezed her eyes shut as she endured the unwanted breeding. Perrieaux, the highborn karakka, seemed to be handling it worst of all. Narva wondered if she’d been virgin before now, with how she wailed, weeping and wide-eyed.

Narva yelped as her rapist slapped her ass. “Yeah, take it,” he grunted, mostly to himself. Narva hung her head and endured. Despite their unique species, and their ‘exotic’ nature, Narva ruminated on how anonymizing all this was: they were merely females. To these men they were a pussy. A mouth. An anus. A hole to fuck. That’s all she was on this stage. Not a mercenary. Not even a person. Just a hole.

The man spanked her again. He thrust in deeply and she choked back a pathetic mewling as she felt warmth flood her. She was grateful for it. It meant he was finished.

He pulled out of her sharply and she was left drooling from her gag and leaking his cum from her stinging slit. The faline was also left alone, but the other three girls were still enduring. The elf’s head was arched up, her eyes on the ceiling as they spilled tears; the man fucking her had one hand on her hip, the other gripping her hair and cruelly pulling it backward. As Narva watched, the man grunted and spat a slur at her, holding himself deep as he came deep into her elven pussy. He let go of her air and pulled out of her, slapping her hard across the ass as he stepped away, doing up his pants.

Narva’s eyes returned to the crowd. There were so many. How was she going to survive?

“It’s time for the next challenge!” Veija declared as the five girls all shivered in their bindings, each recovering from a perfunctory public rutting. He moved from girl to girl, throwing the small lever next to their section of the stage and rotating them, once again pointing their backsides to the audience so their now-leaking and well-fucked slits could be appreciated.

“This time, the girls will have to show their eagerness to please, and of course, spare their soft little cunnies the sting of the whip!” he went on merrily, grabbing Narva’s platform and turning it. She winced as he swung about and locked back into place, her naked ass and drooling little pussy hooted at by the assembled mass. “Of course, there is little better in life than a girl’s lips wrapped around your dick. Sadly, we cannot trust these girls,” he added, slapping the elf on the ass as he spun her about, “so they’ve been fitted with devices to ease our pleasure but have somewhat limited their range of motion. And, of course, one has a beak.”

This attracted some laughter; the karakka whimpered morosely. “So!” Veija crooned, “They will have to be artful with their tongues and generous with their throats! Raffle winners, you may head to the stage.”

Narva heaved with breath. This she was experienced with. Rhix adored blowjobs. He loved nothing more than choking her on his big fat prick. She knew how to regulate her breathing, and had long since trained her gag reflex. She could do this.

She had barely any time to see how the other girls were coping, as a line of three men formed in front of each of them. Narva did not even bother to look at the face of the one in front of her. He was wide, but when he opened his pants and approached her, the cock that flopped out seemed normal in size. He grabbed her horn, but she knew better than to give him a reason to need to use it. She shoved her forced-open mouth down on his cock and took him to the hilt, pushing her chin to his balls in a single go.

***

Gerrietrix hummed to himself in the privacy of his home giving a shelf a long-overdo dusting.

He still felt warm. It was amazing what a good lay did for the soul. And sure, it had been perfunctory, and perhaps even detached and mercantile, but it was still good. It still filled him with a sense of something ineffable. A rosy glow.

His tailstar was even feeling less sore the more the day went on! The customers had left satisfied! Not happy, of course, it was clear they were not expecting the enchantment to be quite of that nature. But their money would spend and who could deny they at least had fun along the way?

A ragged knocking at the door shook him from his thoughts. He hurriedly gestured at a few candles, which sprang to life. He hid the duster; a tool of such domestic nature tended to distract from the mystical ambiance. He smoothed out his feathers and approached the door.

Rhix sagged on the other side, staring balefully at him through the partially opened door.

“Lemme in,” Rhix grunted.

Gerrietrix looked the shu up and down. The last time he’d seen him, Rhix was downcast but hale. Now one of his arms seemed to hang limp at his side, the other clutched around his middle. Gerri’s keen eyes picked up the blood stains running down the length of his pants.

“What happened?” Gerri asked.

“Lemme in.”

Gerri hesitated. “W-why?”

“Dying. I think.”

“And?”

“You’re smart. Magic. Fix me. Kinda fading fast.”

Gerri blinked, and looked past time. “Where’s Narva?”

“Gotta rescue her,” Rhix said, blinking slowly. “Fix me so I can kill more kobolds.”

Gerri was going to let him in, but Rhix collapsed through the door anyway.

***

In the immediate aftermath of her first ‘satisfied customer’, Narva recognized a complication with her circumstance. The first man had demanded she ‘swallow it’, and in truth, she did try. However, it occurred to her that a key mechanism of swallowing was the vacuum the mouth could create by closing; if forced and left open, it was like a key mechanism of the process was missing. She tried to swallow his foul load and instead just ended up coughing it onto the floor under her head, earning her a stinging slap across the face.

She felt her horn grabbed. She didn’t even get a look at the second man; he pulled her forward and thrust his penis in, and she settled right back into the rhythm.

Unable to close her lips, it was all tongue and throat. She could use her tongue to push the cock into the roof of her mouth, but the second guy seemed as happy as the first to gag her on his length and shove it as deep as he could go. Her nose was buried in a thatch of musky black pubic hairs and her ears were treated to his satisfied grunting and her wet gagging.

Involuntary tears stung her eyes as she glanced to her left and right. Only the elf was on her second man, though it seemed the cat girl was getting there soon. The shu was taking a rough facefucking she was not helping with, punishment be damned. The bird girl seemed to be trying, but Narva knew an oral virgin when she saw one and the beak was not helping besides.

The man’s balls slapped Narva’s chin and she was forced to suppress a sneeze as his hairs tickled her nose. Gratefully the frequent gagging helps with that. She could suppress the reflex when she had time to prepare but this was a great deal more savage than she was expecting.

Suddenly, the man tensed and uttered a strained groan. She felt the underside of his cock pulse. He pulled her tight and she spotted her chance, using her tongue to seal off her mouth around his cock to give her the suction she needed to swallow. Narva worked her throat, gulping down each spurt as it came, to prevent any choking.

The man pulled free and threw her head to the side. She momentarily noticed the elf looking up at her rapist, tears rolling down her face. Narva knew the feeling; she recalled the first day of this nightmare when Rhix had tricked her into thinking a blowjob was her ticket to freedom. When she realized that all her heroics, all her training, all her hard work had failed to deliver her from this face; a sex object for a man. A hole for him to fuck.

Her horn was grabbed and she was presented with the thickest cock yet. She heard herself utter something like a whimper as she was pulled down on it, and she got right back to bobbing her mouth on the man’s throbbing member.

She didn’t look up at him. She didn’t want to remember these faces. One thatch of gnarled pubic hair was as good as the next. What mattered was getting him to cum. She relaxed her throat and took him in. Eyes unfocusing, she slid her tongue down his length and angled her head, rolling what of her mouth she could get on his cock up and down his sensitive flesh. She made sure to grind the flat of her tongue over that spongey head, to tease that sensitive tip.

When it came down, it was easy. Moisture and friction, make the slide down the highlight, and the slide back up to bring him back into alignment. Use her urge to gag to summon more saliva, to tighten her throat around his cock. Repeat. Over and over. Ignore the throbbing in her shoulders. Ignore the shame. Ignore the eyes on her naked ass and cum-drooling slit. Suck this cock.

Before she knew it, the salty taste of human cum was jetting across her tongue. She brought him in and used the plug of his cock in her throat to swallow what she could. Like a good slave. Like a good girl who didn’t deserve any whipping.

Her reward was to remain as she was, drooling a mix of cum and spit, listening to the other girls endure. The shu girl was the last this time around. When the crop came for them, the pained squealing was just as sharp as before. The lizard girl, strong as she was, wailed right along with the rest of them.

“What do you say we get our girls nice and clean?” Veija called out, to laughter and cheers.

One by one, the girls were rotated back around. All of them, Narva included, wore exhausted, half-lidded expressions. The bird’s beak glistened with cum; one of the men had opted to cum on her face. The elf wore the seed of one of her rapists as well.

“We’re about to go delving into unexplored territory!” Veija said, to a chorus of laughter. “Well, for most of our girls,” he added, wandering over and patting Narva’s cheek, saying: “Some we have it on authority are quite experienced.”

Behind the girls, several of Veija’s kobold helpers rolled out a wagon onto the stage and picked up what appeared to be nozzled bladders. Another rolled a barrel forward and stood it up, using a pry bar to open the lid. A couple were carrying buckets.

“Of course, while we settle up the raffle for who gets first crack, we’ll be having ourselves a little betting contest! Bet on your girl! Who can hold it best?”

Narva had no idea where any of this was going, and she glanced around to see that the other girls all wore equally confused expressions. Veija turned to face the girls as the kobolds, carrying the bloated bladders, walked up behind their vulnerable raised asses.

“Rules are simple, girls. Hold it in. All you gotta do. I know you already have a problem with that,” he added to the Perrieaux, who hung her head. “The one who takes the most before the dam breaks, wins.”

Narva yelped as something cold and pointed touched her anus, and pushed its way inside. The other girls’ heads all shot up as well. As one, they realized what was happening.

“One!” called the crowd.

Narva strained, gasping and arching her back as a queer sense of cold fullness rushed into her from behind. Her eyes rolled up and she quivered. It just kept coming! Her toes curled. Then the nozzle was gone and she felt fluid suddenly threaten to gush out. She clamped down. Oh no. She was smaller than all of these girls and she didn’t see them using any specially-sized bladders.

“Two!”

A nozzle thrust itself inside and Narva arched, whining aloud. The elf to her left was resolute. The shu girl less so, snarling, her bound tail flexing and writhing. The bird was sobbing, again. The cat wore a determined expression, in her own little world.

“Three!”

Narva was feeling the pressure. The nozzle shoved in and she leaked around it. She grunted, her eyes crossing. More fluid was pumped into her. She felt bloated.

A sound caught her attention. Poor Perrieaux. She wailed, arching as a fountain of fluid gushed from her tailhole. The kobold behind her got the bucket in place; the crowd was laughing. Narva noticed fewer broken hearts this time around.. Nobody bet on her this time.

“Four!”

Narva was panting with the effort to keep her butthole clenched. The nozzle jammed into her. Times were desperate. Narva uttered a long, pained groan. The shame of it weighed on her heavily. She could see them all staring at her. It was too much. It was too much! The nozzle pulled away and she clamped down, she strained with all her might.

Then both she and the shu broke at the same time.

Both scaly girls arched and wailed at the ceiling as their anal strength gave out and they gushed behind them. It took Narva a moment to recognize that in releasing her bowels in this way, she’d also released her bladder. Staring ahead, drowning in a sea of shame, Narva voided a torrent of water from one hole, and a golden stream from another, into the bucket behind her. Laughter stung her ears.

“Have a little shame, Narva,” tsked Veija from nearby.

Narva sagged there, drained. Her guts ached. Her ego was in tatters. She looked at the crowd, deadened eyes scanning for a familiar green, scaly form. He wasn’t here. Was he dead, maybe? Was he gone forever, and this was her life now?

The crop on her pussy woke her up. The pain was a lightning bolt to the brain and her head shot up in a shriek. She twisted and writhed, but the next one, and the one after that, landed perfectly on her sensitive, exposed, helpless pussy. The shu girl was next, and the crowd took great pleasure in seeing the ‘tough’ girl squeal as her sensitive sex was punished for her anal weakness.

The elf ended up winning. They spun her around so the crowd could watch her void the frankly impressive amount of water they’d pushed up her pristine elven backside. When they spun her back around to face the crowd, Narva wasn’t sure by the look on her face if she hadn’t rather taken the whipping.

The next round of men ascended the stage. Narva could not even summon the energy to look around. She felt oil drizzled over her anus. Her sphincter clenched, and a finger pushed some oil inside her. She stared straight ahead, moving only when the man gripped her and fingered her. Then she heard him fish out his cock. A few wet noises must have been him lathering it with oil.

Well, she thought. At least they’re considerate.

All of her pride was gone. When the man thrust inside her, she did what all the other girls did - wailed. She whimpered as his cock pushed deep into her tight tunnel. She wobbled back and forth as he started to fuck her up her ass. All five girls, all jerking back and forth as each took an anal fucking on stage for the thrill of the audience, most of whom were now quite drunk.

Narva could tell from sound alone that the karakka and elf were both virgins. The elf by her aggrieved gasp and pained grunting. The karakka by her mewling. The other two she wasn’t sure, though for the shu this was likely well-trodden ground.

The man fucking her liked to spank her. Every couple of thrusts he’d bounce his flat palm on Narva’s jiggling scaly buttocks. Were she stronger, she might have denied him the satisfaction, but she was exhausted. Her pride was obliterated, she had nothing to prove, nothing to hold back. The man thrust his cock deep into her bowels and she moaned in shame. He spanked her and she yelped, like a bitch. She wasn’t special. On this stage, nobody was.

A fact made evident when her head was grabbed by one of her horns and pulled back by her rapist. He continued to spank her in between thrusts, alternating her between pained groans and sharp little yelps. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the other girls in similar positions, grabbed by their head, and pulled back into the eager sodomizing. Matching the girls’ postures was a big winner for the crowd, who roared their approval and toasted to the wailing cries of the beleaguered sisterhood.

The merchant’s daughter. The tribal maiden the kobold mercenary. The elven heroine. The beautiful Spring Blossom. All were forced to stare at a crowd that cheered their anal rape. Narva sobbed with them. She begged an uncaring universe for Rhix to still be alive.

The man behind her got even more rough. He jabbed her with deep thrusts that bruised her insides; her eyes crossed as she endured the discomfort and shame. Relief was not far away; soon he was thrusting in to the hilt, grinding against her as she felt him loose pent-up spurts of human seed deep inside her most private regions.

When he pulled out he gave her ass one final slap. “Thanks, bitch,” he laughed. She didn’t even have the energy to yelp this time. She just remained as she was, semen leaking from her sore anus. She wondered if she was going to make it.

After the last girl had received their cum enema, the platforms were rotated back around, and the audience given a look at the handiwork. Five tailholes clenching, some trying to close back up, others drooling white. It received a round of applause.

“Now for the next contest!” sang Veija’s merry voice.

***

“Just do it.”

“It will hurt. Quite badly.”

“Ain’t my first time. I said fucking DO IT.”

Gerri jerked Rhix’s arm and there was an audible, meaty click as the joint slid back into place. Rhix convulsed. “Fuck you!” he growled through clenched teeth, eyes locked on Gerri and insane. “I should have fucked you bloody! Aggh, fuck, fuck!”

Gerri stood back, regarding him disapprovingly. “There’s no call for that.”

“More for the pain,” Rhix coughed, beckoning. “Come on, that stuff worked really good, need more.”

“It worked so well because it’s potent,” Gerri said, in a scolding tone. “It’s keeping you awake and sensible - to a degree, I admit - but any more might put you in a coma or kill you. You’ll have to make do and heal. You lost blood - you need time to recover it.”

Rhix sat up, swinging his legs off the bed. “Ain't got time,” he groaned, working his fingers. “Gotta save Narva.”

The karakka wizard sighed, brushing back his plumage. “You are in no condition-”

“So condition me,” Rhix interjected. “Yer a wizard. You got potions, yeah? Tinc-tures? You got salves and, and, and e-lix-ers. Make with ‘em.”

Gerri narrowed his eyes. “Well as it happens, yes, I do, but they’re expensive, and dangerous, more often too dangerous and too costly to be worth it.”

“I can get ya gold,” Rhix insisted, pushing himself to his feet and swaying.

“I wasn’t talking about gold.”

“Narva!” Rhix said, looking Gerrietrix firmly in the eyes. “I need! To Rescue her! Now! And I can’t do it without you! I don’t care what it costs!”

***

“Four!”

Narva groaned as her anus spread. The smooth ball was, of course, larger than the previous three, and this time was stretching her anal ring to about the circumference as the man’s cock had earlier. She blinked tears out of her eyes as her body took the smooth ball inside and closed around behind it, already kissing the next, slightly larger one.

Why didn’t they give her a handicap? She was smaller than the other girls! It wasn’t fair!

“Five!” She felt the next one pressing in, and she knew by the next one after that, she’d be screaming.

***

“Oh, gods,” Gerri whimpered, retching. The corpses of the kobolds had not done the basement room any favors, aromatically.

“Those were our horses outside,” Rhix dreamily observed to himself. Whatever Gerri had given him for the pain was working well enough, but it was filling his mind with a lazy, cool fog. He had to fight through it to grab handfuls of clarity. “And our stuff,” he went on, picking his way over and around the dead bodies. “They were probably gonna divvy it all up later. Bastards,” he snickered.

“Did you k-kill all these men?” Gerri asked.

“Yeah, well, they tried to kill me,” Rhix explained. He stepped through the large oak doorway. “C’mon, in here. There’s gotta be a latch, or a… thingie. He left this room with Narva somehow and I can’t figure it out. You’re smart. You figure it out.”

Gerri fixed him with a deadpan look. “That’s a hell of a way to ask for help,” he groused.

“While you’re looking I’m gonna find his treasure stash and give it to you.”

“I imagine it’s some kind of simply lever-operated mechanism built into the room’s decor,” Gerri ruminated quickly, walking towards the opposite wall and inspecting it with a practiced eye.

***

By the time Veija approached her with the crop, Narva couldn’t help herself. She knew it was futile, but she struggled anyway. She tried to move her ass, to pull her arms free, to close her legs. Anything!

He sniggered at her as the tickets for the next round of rapists were being chosen. “I really thought your ass could take more,” he remarked as Narva shook her head at him, tears flying from her eyes.

It was no help. That crop struck across her quivering sex and she shrieked.

***

“Got it.”

There was a tiny click. Then, a heavy thump as a counterweight dropped somewhere. The large headboard for the bed swung back and away into an empty, musty, dark cavernous space.

Gerri turned to spot Rhix dropping a heavy box on the bed. He opened it to reveal… well. Gerri felt his eyes water and his beak dry.

Rhix grabbed two fistfuls and stuffed them in a sack. The coins and gems clinked musically together in a manner that weakened Gerri’s knees. Rhix had already gathered some of the kobolds’ weapons and strapped them to the horses outside. “Good work,” he said, striding past the stunned karakka. “Maybe I’ll swing back around someday and fuck you in your little bird hole for old-time’s sake.”

Gerri snapped out of his reverie and blushed. “H-here,” he said, fishing a bottle out of his robes. He handed it over. Rhix peered through the glass at what awaited him inside; it was green, it seemed to move slowly, and there was stuff floating in it.

“What’s it do?” Rhix asked.

“Listen,” Gerri said, with sudden gravity. “Once you drink that, it takes about a minute to kick in. From there, you have thirty minutes, at most. Do what you need to do, move with purpose, and get as far away from danger by the time it wears off because everything it gives you, it’s going to charge back at twice the cost.”

Rhix stared at him. “About thirty minutes, huh?” When the bird nodded, Rhix nodded back. “Alright. Get out of here. And thanks. Try not to be seen leaving.”

“Yeah,” the wizard said, his eyes lingering on Rhix as the lizard departed into the gloom. “Take care.”

***

It was dark, but Rhix’s eyes adjusted quickly, and finding his way was easy; he just followed the sound of the party. It sounded like a lot of people were having a lot of fun. And, as he got closer, a smaller amount of females not having quite so much fun at all.

He found an old door. In his left hand, he had one of the kobold’s swords. A scimitar, razor-sharp and well cared for. In his right, he had Gerri’s potion. Whatever awaited him behind that door, he would have to be ready for it. Move with purpose, Gerri had said.

Don’t think. Just act, react. You will always have the advantage if you’re the one who doesn’t hesitate. Rhix bounced a little on his toes, and winced. The wounds were still there, locked behind whatever Gerri had given him for the pain. The agony slumbered; best he did not wake it.

He popped the cork and sucked down the fluid. The taste was, as it turned out, quite nice. Sugary. He licked the inside of the bottle. Maybe it would add a few precious seconds to his available time.

Then he opened the door.

He found himself standing in some kind of storage room. There were barrels, there were bushels. There were boxes and shelves and racks. He could smell salted meat, garlic, onions, and ale. On the other side of the room was a small stair leading to a half-open door. Through it, he could hear a lot of men cheering something that was making a handful of females very unhappy.

He ascended the steps. Halfway up them, he noticed the ambient light seemed to be getting brighter. Colors were coming into sharper focus. The cacophony of noise was no less thick but was significantly more distinct, and he could feel it in a way he never thought possible. He felt as though he could hear each individual voice. As if he could sketch from memory the contours of the mouth and tongue that made them. He could feel the inside of his clothing, the cured leather that wrapped the hilt of his scimitar.

Everything seemed to move slower around him. The world came into a strange sort of hyper-focus. He rode astride reality as if it were his trusty war charger.

“Who’re you?”

He was standing in some kind of backstage. The light of the main showcase was beyond some hanging curtains. He could hear the slapping of flesh, and the grunting of female and male voices. A sex show. He could smell it. His eyes snapped over to the kobold that had spoken to him; he was reclined in a small chair near the wall. When they met eyes, the kobold flinched.

“What’s the matter?” Rhix asked, and even he could hear that he was talking quickly, in a clipped sort of way.

“Your eyes, are you alright? Show’s back that way, uh-”

Rhix turned around until he found a mirror on the wall; he rubbed his hand on it to clear away dust and looked at himself. His reptilian eyes were fully dilated, pupils wide open and giving him a strange black-eyed appearance. No wonder he could see so well. But why wasn’t it blinding? Think about that later.

“Is that a sword? Why are you armed, put that away-” the kobold was yammering.

“Are those oil casks?” Rhix asked, pointing at a row of small wooden barrels that were giving off a distinct odor to his enhanced senses.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” Rhix replied and decapitated the kobold with a swift arcing strike. Goodness, Rhix thought to himself. I’m strong, and fast. How long did the bird say? Move with purpose.

***

Narva barely had the energy to sob anymore. She could barely whimper. The man fucking her sore pussy was relentless. He’d been waiting the entire show so far, of course. And there were so many more men left to go.

A movement caught her eye. From under half-mast eyelids, her eyes tried to focus on the shape. Someone moving through the crowd. Someone with a familiar profile.

***

Scimitar tucked into his belt, Rhix walked across the floor of the squat, wide underground auditorium and festivity hall. On the stage, he could see five girls - a karakka, a shu, an elf, a faline, and Narva, all tied up in the same position, all being fucked. This was good, of course - it meant the crowd was distracted. They hardly noticed his brisk walk from one end of the room to the other, a cask in both hands, splattering a long trail of thick oil behind him as he moved.

Until some splashed onto the shoes of one of the audience, that is.

“Oi, hey! You!” The man shouted, staggering. “What you doin’? Yer spilling everywhere!”

“I know,” Rhix said in what sounded to him like a strangely cheery voice, making his way to the other end of the room. The man’s shouting had attracted attention. More eyes were looking at him now.

“What are you doing?” another man asked, looking down at the floor, then up into the inky black wells that were Rhix’s eyes. He flinched back at the lizard man’s rictus grin.

“This!” Rhix said, grabbing a candelabra from one of the tables and chucking it to the floor.

The room erupted into shocked screaming as the candle fire caught the oil and twin rivers of flame snaked back the way Rhix had come. The floor was stone, but the chairs and tables were wooden. As was the bar, as were the people.

“Fire!” someone screamed, and just like that, the sex show was over.

Rhix was already moving. With purpose, he added to himself merrily. He leaped onto the stage. A shocked Veija had enough time to take in the barest specifics of what was happening before a punch from Rhix sent him sprawling.

“Gotta go!” Rhix sang in an entirely inappropriate tone of joy. It was funny - he’d been on substances before, funny plants you could chew or drinks that would spark the spirit, make one alert - but jittery, hands shaking. This was different. He was precise. Exact. No motion or movement was wasted. Narva was staring at him in bleary disbelief as he drew the scimitar and effortlessly sliced through the ropes binding her to the wooden arch. She collapsed immediately into a heap and wailed softly in pain. Rhix cut away her gag.

“We gotta go!” he repeated, trying to hoist her to her feet.

“Th’ others,” she rasped. The other bound girls were staring at the flames, shaking, screaming.

Rhix looked at them, nodded, and got to work. He danced from one to the next, his sword singing in the air. This was great! He felt so alive! He felt like a god! Each swing, each slice was targeted with flawless exactitude. Each girl collapsed when they were cut free, save the elf, who struggled the rest of the way out of her binds.

“Rhix!” Narva’s voice called out. Recognizing her tone and generally knowing what to expect given the circumstances, Rhix spun and deflected the dagger with his scimitar. Veija, however, was utterly unlike his employees. This was a veteran, like Rhix and Narva. He had skill. He ducked low and came up inside Rhix’s guard. Rhix countered with a pivot of his hips, there was a desperate grapple.

He picked Veija up, which surprised them both. It was effortless. He swung the stricken kobold around in a circle. Whee! Then he let him go. Veija roared with rage as he flew through the air across the burning audience floor and smashed into the rows of bottles behind the bar. He, and their contents, fell into the flames that were enveloping the room; the flames roared, and there was a scream.

The elf was ushering the other girls towards what looked like an exit. On the far side of the stage. Voices were shouting, calls for water, calls for the knights. Rhix returned to Narva, who was struggling to get to her feet. Far too slowly for Rhix; he scooped her up in his arms.

“Rh-... Rhix?” she asked. She was cradled against his chest like a newlywed wife. Her entire body was shivering. She felt weightless in his arms. Her big, brown eyes stared up at him in grateful awe.

“I gotcha!” he sang back to her, already running. Move with purpose! How long did he have? Gotta move! Get to safety! Thirty minutes!

He ran back through the exit the way they’d come, away from the growing cries for the knights. Through the tunnels, into Veija’s hideout. Back to the horses. Outside there was screaming in the distance; bells were ringing all over town. It was chaos; it was cover. It would do.

He shoved Narva onto one of the horses. “We gotta ride!”

“Rhix,” she said, her hands shaking. “I-”

“We gotta ride!” he yelled back at her. Perhaps too loud, by how she flinched and stared at him in shock. No time! He mounted the horse and spurred it to a gallop.

***

Plumes of smoke rose over the town in their wake. The star knights had abandoned the gates to help fight the fire, leaving a wide open gap for Narva and Rhix to gallop through.

The town was well behind them before Rhix slowed them both. Narva was hanging on for dear life. Naked and sore, she’d resolutely kept her eyes on Rhix. She’d summoned every ounce of what she had to hang onto consciousness, to keep her wits. And now, it seemed, the flight was over.

Rhix wobbled in his saddle. Hands shaking, he dismounted and stumbled to a knee.

“Rhix?” Narva asked, sliding from the saddle to move to him. “You-... what happened? What did you-”

“I’m, uh,” Rhix interrupted her. “I don’t feel too good. Been… think it's been about thirty minutes? Probably,” he babbled. Narva winced as he vomited suddenly, dropping to all fours.

“Are you poisoned?” she asked, stumbling to him. He flopped over to the side and rolled bonelessly into the ditch.

Limping, she made her way over to him. “Narva,” he said, looking up at her. He cracked a smile. “I did a hero thing. I had the juice. He gave me the juice. I kicked ass. Wow. I’m great. I’m gonna die now, goodbye.”

His eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp. Narva stood there in stunned silence. Shaking and naked, her eyes cast back and forth along the lonely road, and then down at the unconscious lizard who she was nowhere near strong enough to carry.