Total Party Wipe Ch. 04

Author's Note: Again, content warning for abuse/sexual assault being framed as an emotional bonding experience (between the abuser and abusee).

They found Kyla's clothes and throwing knives inside the cottage. Once dressed, Sune pressed her to find the beast's trail. The paladin would not be denied her quarry.

Kyla picked her way through the woods. She barely spoke -- her experience at the hands of the beast haunted her. Even now, the movement of her body occasionally fell into the still-familiar pattern of that slow strut. She could feel Sune's eyes upon her back, silently judging. Kyla shivered.

Fortunately, the beast had made little to no attempt to hide its passage as it escaped with Brienne. Following the path was relatively easy. Kyla led Sune south, far away from the well-trodden roads and through deeply tangled groves.

The trail ended on the side of a hill at a mound of moss and dirt. The sun was directly overhead. Somewhere far off, a cicada hissed and chirped.

"Well?"

Kyla nudged the mound. It shifted, revealing it to be a net cleverly woven with foliage. It hid a tunnel leading down into the earth.

Sune stepped forward. "Let's get moving."

The paladin stepped past Kyla. When she did not follow, Sune turned and scowled.

Kyla stared at the hole, not making eye contact. Her thoughts turned to the beast -- what it had done to her. What it had said to her. Another shiver rolled through her, from her toes up to her nape.

"I think... I think this might be a mistake."

"What?"

Kyla swallowed. She lifted her eyes up to Sune. "This creature... You didn't tell us we were hunting an urog. I don't think we can defeat it ourselves. We need help."

Sune's reply was flat and automatic: "Brienne needs our help."

Frustration surged in Kyla's chest: "I know that. Better than you," she snapped. "And if that's what we're here to do -- to save her -- I'm willing to... To take this risk. But I'm not going down there with you if this is just about... Killing some beast, earning glory."

Something fierce and terrifying flashed across Sune's face. Her sword flashed with radiance; the fire touched her eyes. For a moment, her expression was one of pure rage.

The moment passed. Her expression softened. She stepped forward and touched Kyla's shoulder. Kyla flinched, but did not pull away.

"This is not about glory," Sune told her. "This is about saving Brienne."

Kyla looked into Sune's eyes. She sighed and nodded.

Together, they ventured into the darkness below.

"...mmrrhh..."

Brienne trembled and moaned. The beast had bound her, just as he had Kyla -- arms gripped by a sleeve behind her, with her mouth gagged and the upper half of her face hooded. Her long, delicate ears jutted out from beneath the leather, with her copper tresses spilling down in a tail pulled through a hole. Even if she was not blinded by the hood, it was far too dark for her to see -- but this did not stop her from imagining how she looked. Pale and shapely, bound like some animal.

She suppressed another moan. Then she felt a rough slap against her buttocks and stumbled forward.

Brienne had no way of knowing how Kyla had faired under this treatment, but she could not imagine the defiant rogue doing worse than her. Since being drugged and violated, Brienne had felt some part of her melt -- as if the portion of her mind responsible for self-determination had been muzzled. Once bound, she had realized that she was unconsciously adopting the gait that Kyla had demonstrated when they found her outside the cottage -- as if her body instinctively hoped this would please her captor.

What was worse was his reaction: his immense hands had immediately dropped down to the soft padding of her buttocks, sinking into either cheek. He had then guided her steps with gropes and swats -- silently correcting her little slut-strut.

She shuddered. Another slap, another moan. Was she truly this weak...?

She wanted to blame it on the drug, but she knew that wasn't the whole truth. Some hidden part of her responded to this -- squirmed at the very thought of it. To be treated not only as an animal, but a precious one. To be reduced to someone's thing -- a thing that was desired and adored. Someone's precious bauble. Someone's treasure.

Then there was her relentless curiosity -- the part of her mind that thirsted for knowledge. He was clearly far more intelligent than they'd given him credit for -- he could speak! Where did he come from? How long had he been in these woods? How many of his kind remained? How did the strange drug he used on them work -- had he brewed it himself?

The stones she walked upon subtly changed. She felt a soft breeze stir across her naked breasts along with the warm glow of the sun. They were emerging from the cavern. Her foot brushed across an oddly shaped stone -- she immediately recalled the ruins they had seen near the cottage. Were these the same?

A tiny flutter of indignation rose up inside her chest. She'd be able to do so much more for him learning about those ruins than just being tied and led around like this...!

That thought alone made her flush with humiliation. Why did she even think about that? About helping him...?!

They stepped inside. Another cottage? The floor was stone, here; she smelled oil and charcoal. It occurred to her that he likely had many stashes here in the woods. Places like the cave, where he had stored supplies.

He squeezed her haunches and guided her up to a stone table. She felt the edge make light contact with her hips. Spreading his fingers across her shoulders, he leaned her forward until her bare breasts flattened to the cool stone.

Brienne whimpered. Was he going to take her again...? The memory of that first time was still spinning in her mind. It made her body ache with a dull heat just thinking about it. She turned her cheek to press against the stone.

"Shhh..." Soft shushing noises. The sort of sounds you'd make to comfort a skittish animal. Brienne bristled, her face heating up again. She wasn't some sort of pet to be comforted, she told herself. So why did the sound make some part of her melt into a squirming mess?

She felt his finger trace down the side of her waist, down to her thigh; it moved back up to her left buttock, squeezing. He dribbled a phial of something over her skin -- it was different from the oil he had used before. It made her skin tingle and had a sharp, pleasant odor.

"Shhh..." he repeated, stroking her side with his other hand.

"Mmnmph..." Brienne nervously wriggled. He was trying to calm her down. Why? The hand on her buttocks moved away; the other hand gripped her side, holding her down. She heard metal scraping against stone.

Then it came: a sharp, sizzling hiss. The magic brand kissed the skin of her buttock with a tender lick, scorching it with his mark. When he pulled away, her whole body was wracked with pain. Tears spilled out from beneath her hood. She squealed.

Immediately, he applied more of the lotion to the mark. It helped dull the sharpness of the burn, but still left her with the sting. She sobbed, twisting on the table.

All at once, his massive arms scooped her up. His breath washed over the side of her cheek, with his mouth enveloping one sensitive ear-tip. As he suckled, his powerful hands grasped her bare tits -- squeezed them, groped them. He was careful not to let her freshly branded buttocks touch his hip.

Brienne kept sobbing. He had marked her. Branded her. The full weight of what was happening to her, what would happen, fell upon her all at once. He really was going to make her into his pretty pet, his precious thing. And she couldn't stop him.

And the only source of comfort she could find was in the firm grip of his hands, his jaws... in the soothing warmth of her captor's grasp.

"Shh... it's all over."

Continuing to sob beneath the gag, Brienne sank back into the beast's possessive grip -- and, much to her own shock, turned her head to the side and buried her face against his arm. Desperately seeking the assurance of his touch.

"Good girl. You're safe, now..."

When he kissed the top of her head, she felt her throat clench as a shameful surge of gratitude and longing flooded her heart.

Soft, pinkish-red fungi clung to the cavern walls, producing a soft glow. They had a familiar scent -- one that made Kyla shiver.

They found the urog's makeshift lair in an open chamber. Kyla noted the small cache of supplies -- a bedroll, strips of leather, cured rations, and a small herbalist's kit. He had prepared this space as a fall-back position some time ago.

"The trail leads up through that tunnel," Kyla told Sune. "Probably back to the surface."

They proceeded upwards, guided by torches.

Ahead, Kyla caught sight of something. She dropped an arm in front of Sune.

A passage branched off to the right, sloping down. It wasn't the path the urog had taken. But just at the edge of the torch's flickering light, she could see --

"Blissworm," Kyla whispered.

They were dangerous subterranean creatures -- elongated worms that clung to the ceilings of caves, waiting for the unwary to venture beneath them. A whip-like tongue would then ensnare their prey, reeling them up into the worm's wet, expanding maw. The prey was then engulfed inside an expanding membrane of semi-transparent pale flesh, where they would be subdued by constant convulsions of pleasure -- left dangling in a sleeve of warm, wet flesh.

There was a blissworm dangling from the ceiling. It had already found its meal -- a feminine figure undulated within it, squirming in a slow, sensual dance.

A ring of constricting muscle rolled down the woman's body, briefly squishing across her breasts, stomach, hips, thighs -- all the way to her toes. The ring slowly reversed its path, climbing back up -- thighs, hips, stomach, breasts. Then again, back down. With each successive 'stroke', the worm produced a wet, vulgar squelch -- and the woman produced a muffled, pleasured moan.

Kyla felt her heart hammering in her chest. The girl's fate -- bound, engulfed, and pleasured until she submitted -- was too familiar for comfort. She scanned the ceiling for unfed worms. It looked safe. Kyla drew one of her daggers and approached.

Sune's hand grabbed her shoulder. "What are you doing?"

Kyla looked back. "We -- we have to try and help her."

Sune shook her head. "Whoever she is, she's been in there too long. At that point, there's nothing left to save."

"You don't know--"

Sune scowled. "We can't afford to waste time trying to save someone else, Kyla. We can check on this one after we've completed the mission."

Kyla hesitated, but relented. It was true -- after a certain point, the prey of a blissworm became so dependent on it that removing them was akin to separating their head from their shoulders. There was no point; all that was left was a pleasured, moaning husk. It was almost kinder to leave them to their fate -- ecstasy and bliss for however much longer they had.

But as they continued forward, Kyla's thoughts returned to the woman. How had she come down here? How long had she been trapped in that mindless state of bliss -- what was her story? And why did the thought of her spending an eternity in bliss make Kyla's knees quiver?

But most of all, Kyla found herself thinking about Sune's expression when she looked at the blissworm's prey. It was the same expression Kyla saw when the paladin had finished cutting her free.

Disgust, Kyla realized. Disgust toward anyone weak enough to be defeated.