Kinky adventurers Ch. 02: Pt. 13

"And they're still warm!" Hansa shrieked quietly as the cookie fell apart in her mouth, quickly cupping a hand under her chin to catch the crumbling goodness.

Ingrid looked her friend over. As usual, she had a fair amount of body envy regarding her friends, and Ingrid found Hansa particularly beautiful. Whether it was her rich, southeast Asian skin tone; her sexy undercut; her black hair with deep purple highlights; her small, delicate ears, heavily pierced in a way that was both edgy and tasteful; her loose-fitting, sleeveless shirt and athletic pants; Hansa looked like a dream.

Ingrid herself had always felt more than a little gender queer, struggling to connect with the gender roles and sexual desires expected of girls. She suspected Hansa felt the same. Her breasts were on the small side and her fashion style made it easy for her to pass as a boy. In fact, the sides of her tank top gave frequent glimpses of her torso, and Ingrid could see the white cloth Hansa had used to wrap her breasts rather than wearing a bra.

"How are you feeling?" Ingrid asked. "Do you have anything you want to talk about before the rest of the crew arrives?"

Hansa dusted the crumbs off of her hands into the kitchen sink before joining Ingrid in the sunshine on the sofa.

"Well," she began hesitantly, "I think I'm mostly worried I just don't know how things work. I mean, I know how to play D&D, but each group is different and I just don't want to be disruptive. I know you have a good thing going. You guys must be pretty tight, playing together for this long."

Ingrid smiled sympathetically. "Yeah, I know how scary it can be to feel like you have to break into a tight group. And we do have a good thing going. But I promise everyone's really kind and welcoming."

"Oh, I'm sure! I'll just kind of watch and listen at first. Is that ok?"

"Of course," Ingrid replied. "But don't be too shy; your contributions to each scene and to the story at large are really valuable."

"Haha!" Hansa laughed nervously. "I'll try. Fortunately, my character is basically just myself but as a halfling." She smiled sheepishly.

"That's great!"

"Is it?" Hansa asked, looking somewhat embarrassed. "I feel like it's cliche and unimaginative."

"Not at all. Every act of artistic creation comes from within, after all. Art is an expression of the artist's experiences, feelings, perspective. Even when ostensibly acting out a role, the unique stamp of the actor is clearly visible."

Hansa smiled a bit. "Thanks, Ingrid. You're always good at making me feel good about myself."

"Well, someone's gotta do it," Ingrid said with a wink. "Now there's something else we need to briefly discuss before the others get here. I know we've talked about it before, but there's no time like the present to make sure we're on the same page about consent."

At this, Hansa straightened up a bit and her expression became more serious.

"As you know," Ingrid began, "this particular D&D campaign is a little... unusual." Hansa blushed and laughed nervously. "We're explicitly including kinky elements to this campaign," Ingrid went on, "both for the characters and the players themselves. Based on what kinky situations each player finds hot—and they communicate this to me in advance—I try to construct a narrative that gives them the chance to encounter these situations. Then, if they want, we can have whatever occurs to their character happen to them in real life, here in the room and in real time."

Hansa nodded along, smiling awkwardly. She had heard all this from Ingrid before.

"Now, I just want to give you another chance to consent to this whole crazy thing. How do you feel about kinky scenes happening to the other players' characters in the game?"

"More than fine!" Hansa enthused. "Like I told you, I'm really interested in observing and exposing myself to kink by watching. This seems perfect."

"Ok. How do you feel about observing kinky scenes between the players here in the room?"

Hansa paused, blushing again. "I mean, I'm really new to this whole space, and I'm an inherently shy and easily embarrassed person. But I'm really, really excited to watch stuff happen."

"Our crew includes two women and two men," Ingrid specified. "They're interested in bondage, nipple play, exhibitionism, voyeurism, impact play, anal play, and other related sorts of things. Are any of these not comfortable for you?"

"I mean, I only know what some of those things mean in theory," Hansa replied. "But I'm fully open to exploring all of it—at least observing it, for now," she corrected.

"Great. Please feel that you can use the safeword 'peanut butter' at any time to begin a pause in the play and have a conversation about how we're feeling. If you don't feel comfortable, please don't suffer in silence for everyone else's sake, or because you're too embarrassed or shy to speak up. This whole thing only works and is wonderful if everyone feels empowered to protect themselves. Is that ok?"

Hansa nodded vigorously. "I get it."

"Awesome," Ingrid replied. "Which brings us to the final point I want to talk about. This is the hardest and most important one of all." Hansa visibly squirmed at this, knowing what was coming. "How do you feel about possibly participating in kinky scenes—either your character or yourself?"

Hansa paused a long moment, gathering her thoughts. Ingrid waited patiently, giving her friend space to feel out her truth and express it in her own words.

At length, she spoke. "I honestly don't know what I want or even who I really am, from a sexual standpoint." She sounded apologetic again. Ingrid refrained from interjecting, silently encouraging her friend to continue. "I was actually kind of hoping that, as I watch, I'd learn more about what kind of interests me." Ingrid just nodded along. "So, maybe for now at least, can I just watch and observe when kinky stuff happens?" Hansa looked like she was asking for something completely unreasonable.

Ingrid smiled broadly and warmly. "Of course you can! Silly. Consent is consent; and that means we only participate when we can do so enthusiastically. It's completely ok not to participate."

"But I feel like I'm not contributing anything!" Hansa confessed. "And I don't want the others to think I'm just here as a voyeur, creepily watching their brave, vulnerable, kinky roleplay. I admire y'all's courage and self knowledge and the way you own your desires and aren't ashamed to act them out in front of one another. I just wish I was the same and feel embarrassed to be so immature and unevolved comparatively."

Ingrid listened deeply to her friend's impassioned speech with an empathetic expression. When Hansa had finished, Ingrid scooted closer to her friend on the sofa, put a hand on her shoulder, and leaned in until her forehead rested lightly on Hansa's.

"My dear friend. You don't owe anyone anything, and you aren't unevolved or immature. You're exactly you, exactly where you are on your own personal journey through life. No one's 'far along' or 'not far enough.' There's no such thing. There's only where you are right now. And all that matters is that you are brave enough to be exactly where you are, own exactly who you are, and take the next step forward. And that takes a lot of courage. Most of us spend most of our time not really moving forward, because it's new and scary and uncomfortable to move beyond where we are, beyond what we know. That you're here, Hansa, is already very brave. And it says a lot about you."

Hansa broke into a sad, self-deprecating smile. "There you go again," she said, "making me feel better about myself."

"Well, I wish you could see the amazing person I see," Ingrid responded. "But until you can see yourself the way I do, that's gonna be my job." Hansa's smile turned a little warmer, a little more self-confident.

Knock, knock, knock!

With a wink at her friend, Ingrid got up from the sofa and walked to the door. On the other side was not one, not two, but all four of her friends, and Reya, too.

"Whoa!" she exclaimed. "It's the whole circus!"

"At your service," Silus replied, bowing low.

"Ingrid!" Yuna shrieked, throwing her arms around her friend's neck and squeezing her tight.

The troupe shuffled in, Ingrid greeting Sebastian, Emma, and Reya as they entered.

"Take a cookie from the table, y'all," she instructed, leading the way into the living room. As they did, she turned and held an arm out toward Hansa, still seated on the sofa in the evening sunshine. "Everyone, this is my good friend Hansa. Hansa, this is everyone. The dapper man with the 'fro is Silus; the cute emo boy is Sebastian; his gorgeous dominant is Reya; the cheerful Korean American girl is Yuna; and the sexy, silent type next to her is Emma."

"Hi everyone," Hansa said with a shy wave, her voice quiet.

The group gathered around the coffee table and Ingrid gave them plenty of time to ask questions, introduce themselves, and get to know one another. Silus and Yuna made Hansa laugh, while Emma and Sebastian put her at ease with their quiet confidence. Once Ingrid called everyone to business, Reya reached out and put a hand on Hansa's leg.

"I was introduced to the group only a few weeks ago," she said. "It's kind of a lot, I know."

"Yeah," Hansa agreed with a nervous chuckle.

"They're really great people though," she added. "The very best. Just trust them that they really do care about you."

"Alright everyone, focus!" Ingrid called out. When silence had endured for several seconds, she said, "Let's play some Dungeons and Dragons!"

******************************

Sixto peered wearily at the door from his hiding spot, willing himself not to doze off. He hated this work with a passion. Stakeouts were the absolute worst—boring as hell, but demanding constant vigilance and always overshadowed by the potential for a sudden shift to intense excitement and danger.

How have I gotten myself back into this? He wondered in despair. I've spent the last few years doing everything I can do to get away from this, yet here I am. What's the phrase? Like a dog to its vomit? What a delightful analogy. But horribly apt in this case.

Si: Do I see anything? Is anything going on?

I: Make a constitution saving throw first, then a perception check.

Si: Constitution saving throw? I wasn't expecting that one.

I: Yeah, well stakeouts are as much a matter of stamina as of perceptiveness.

Si: That's a really good point, dear Dungeon Master. Constitution saving throw it is. [Rolls]. Nice! 15. That's good for me.

I: That's enough. You manage to stay focused. Now make a perception check.

Si: [Rolls again]. 21. One of my better abilities.

Just as his thoughts began to spiral in a vortex of self pity, the sound of creaking wood reached Six's ears and the door opened inward just a bit. He was lurking in a dark alley a few dozen feet away from the backdoor in question, hidden on the far side of a short staircase.

I: Make a stealth check for me, Silus.

Si: Oh, great. Now I'm gonna screw it up. [Rolls]. See? I knew it. Rolled a 3, so even given my +7 to stealth it's only a 10.

Peering around the stairs, Sixto saw a short, balding halfling doing the same thing around his door. The halfling's gaze swept the otherwise deserted alley until it came to rest on Sixto.

Shit! Six cursed under his breath as the halfling burst out into the alley at a full run. Leaping out from his hiding place, Sixto gave chase. At least my legs are longer, he muttered.

More than that, his quarry clearly didn't appear the athletic type, and based on his meandering, tottering path seemed more than a little drunk. Before long, Sixto had the fellow pinned to the ground, a knife pressed to his throat.

"Alright, buddy. Just stay still and no one gets hurt," Sixto said, breathing heavily. The poor fellow, his shabby vest and trousers dirty and stained, whimpered pitifully but didn't resist. In a few short moments Sixto had him in a tight hogtie. In a few more, another halfling sauntered into the alley through the door the hapless fellow had opened earlier, trailed closely by a brutish looking dragonborn and an equally oafish human.

"Excellent work, Sixto! I knew the rust would come off quick."

Sixto grimaced inwardly, but smiled, got to his feet, and gave a little bow. "I suppose our work here is done then, Remus?"

"Ours is, yes," the debonair halfling replied. He was dressed in a maroon silk tunic, white linen trousers, and an olive green woolen vest—far too nice for the grungy alley, not to mention the grungy work. "This fellow's isn't, I'm afraid. Nor Loren or Umbren's," he added, gesturing to the burly men who approached and quickly tossed the trussed figure into a burlap bag. "You know the drill, fellows," Remus called to them. Tell your boss I'll be in to discuss the morning's work later today."

"About that," Sixto interjected quietly, "is our arrangement still valid?"

"What was that?" Remus looked distracted.

"Remus," Six said in a warning tone.

"Oh, that!" Remus replied, as if suddenly remembering. "Of course, lad. Of course. I've always been a halfling of my word, have I not?"

Si: Is this guy behaving funny? Am I being played here?

I: Feel free to make an insight check if you'd like

Si: With pleasure. [Rolls]. Hmm, more garbage. 11

I: It's hard to say. He seems pretty earnest. If there's anything deceptive going on, you can't put your finger on it.

"That's what I like to hear," Sixto said. "So I'll swing by headquarters this afternoon?"

"Um, no I don't think that's best. Let me take the good news to Yuri myself and then I'll bring you in tomorrow morning to ask the favor. Best wait a bit for the good feelings to marinate before calling in a favor, you know?"

"Sure," Sixto replied slowly. I'll meet you there tomorrow morning, then. And by 'morning' I mean noon. Because that's about the earliest you ever get up."

"Now, now," Remus replied, looking hurt. "There's no need for that." Quickly recovering his charming smile, he added, "But yes, let's call it noon."

Sixto chortled by way of a reply and began wandering down the alley in the opposite direction that the thugs were departing with the bagged halfling in tow. Six hated lingering after a job had been completed, and in this case wanted to entwine himself as little as possible into his old friend's life. Whether Remus knew it or not (and he probably did, Sixto told himself), the relationship was purely transactional at this point. Six needed something from Remus, and was doing him favors in return—among them, dirty little jobs like this.

That fellow doesn't deserve what's in store for him, Six thought with disgust and remorse. Did he borrow money from the wrong people? Yes. Did he fail to repay them? Absolutely. Does that mean he deserves what happened to him? No.

Sixto sighed deeply. Did I just enable his tormentors? Another weary sigh. Yes.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Sixto?" he asked himself out loud this time.

"Great question," said an unfamiliar voice.

Si: Can I see who's speaking?

I: Make a perception check. Hansa, make a stealth check.

E: Woohoo! First roll of the campaign for Hansa!

H: Oh man, I'm so nervous.

Si: No need to be, friend. I rolled a 9. The amazing rolls just keep coming.

H: Haha! Good, because I only rolled a 14.

Sixto dropped into a crouch, knife out, rapidly searching the alley around him for the source of the voice.

"Honestly, I hadn't pegged you for a thug. Self-centered and indifferent, maybe, but not a thug."

At last, Sixto's gaze landed on a halfling perched on the 2nd story windowsill of an apartment bordering the alley.

"A halfling?" Sixto wondered aloud. "Why are there halflings everywhere all of a sudden?"

"Is that a racist comment?" the halfling asked. Her hair was short and black, her eyes brown, her features rather plain, if Sixto was being honest. Her clothes were nothing to write home about either, looking so boring and ordinary as to never go out of style. In fact, Sixto had a hard time figuring out their gender; their general 'look' seemed rather intentionally androgynous.

"No," he replied shortly. "It's not. And who the hell are you?"

"Oh, nobody," the halfling replied. "I just watch people."

"That's not creepy. And you don't have a name, little stalker?"

The halfling gave him a dirty look. "I'm not a stalker. People just tend to ignore me or not notice me altogether. It's not my fault if I look and people never look back."

"Sure. Well, if you're not going to tell me your name and why you're watching me, I'm going to be on my way. I have places to be."

"Are you going to talk to your attractive elvish friend?"

Sixto's expression changed at once from annoyance to alert fear.

"Oh, and the name's Andy. Andy Birchwillow."

"How do you know about my friends," Sixto breathed, his voice low and threatening. "And what's your angle? Speak frankly because I'm tired of this pointless banter."

"Fine," Andy replied, evidently satisfied she had gotten his attention at last. She was a young woman, and happy to identify as such, but equally pleased when people mistook her for a boy, or remained confused about the matter. "I saw your elvish friend and her cute companion get accosted in the market the other night. It was... interesting and exciting to say the least."

"I bet it was," Sixto growled. "Kindly get to the point. What the hells do you have to do with any of this?"

"Don't be so hostile," Andy said, getting testy herself. "I'm getting there if you'd stop interrupting." Sixto remained silent, wary and suspicious. "Those thugs clearly wanted what's in your bag, and they were clearly willing to kill to get it. Then your elf friend's younger companion did something strange that she didn't seem to be completely in control of, like it surprised her, too. They took off into an alley, naturally trying to make themselves scarce. Fascinated, I followed them to the inn, then waited and noticed you and your tiefling compatriot join them. Next thing I knew, you and the tiefling left with the box, then returned. After that, all of you but the younger woman snuck out the back way, into the alley behind the inn."

"You were watching us like a hawk the entire time," Sixto threatened, "and you expect me to believe you when you say you did it purely out of curiosity?"

"Believe whatever you want," Andy retorted. "Either way, your younger friend is missing, the sexy elf is in hiding, and now you're out doing dirty work for the syndicate. All of which is very suspect."

"And?" Sixto replied, practically gritting his teeth. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't put a knife between your eyes."

Andy wasn't sure how she had missed it, but the human in the alley below her had a throwing knife in his hand, and she was pretty confident he could release it with deadly accuracy in a flash if he wanted. "Whoa! Calm down. There's no need for violence. I'm only trying to help."

Sixto looked at her with narrowed eyes, clearly unconvinced.

"Think about it," Andy went on. "If I wanted to sell you out to the syndicate, I'd have done it already. But I hate those guys. Everything they do is awful, which is why I was surprised to see what you've been up to this morning. I'm really worried about your younger friend, the woman with the uncontrollable powers. And I think you are, too."

"Forgive me for being skeptical. What exactly are you offering?"

"Well I hope I've convinced you that I'm good at noticing things without being noticed, at least," Andy replied. And right now I'm between jobs, have nothing better to do, and seem to have developed an interest in your odd group. I want to know what's happened to know what's happened to your other friend. I don't think she's ok, and I think it has something to do with whatever the syndicate wanted in that bag."