Chapter 113 Ropes.
The two draft horses pulling the carriage flicked their tails and stomped their heavy hooves against the cobblestones.
The driver of the limousine carriage had been ordered to bring them to the witch’s shop, but his master seemed in no hurry to go inside. He suspected the reason why as he glanced at the curtained window behind him.
On the other side of that curtain, Ava was bobbing her head in Rorg’s lap and sucking wantonly on the big orc’s fat cock.
She had licked him clean in her apartment, but that hadn’t been enough. She had decided of her own initiative to give the big orc’s cock a more thorough washing in the carriage ride over.
Honestly, Ava had expected him to have rewarded her with a mouthful of cum long before they arrived, but the orc sat back in the seat, one hand draped over Ava’s head, his eyes half closed and the cigar smoldering one corner of his mouth.
He said very little, but grunted every so often in encouragement as she sucked... and sucked... and sucked.
Lips popping. Spit dripping from Rorg’s cock and down his balls. His fat, cum-laden bollocks occasionally tongued and slurped while her hand wanked the orc’s huge cock.
She could hardly explain her heightened state of arousal other than residual effects of the wug’s potion. Well, possibly just her good old elf horniness. Or a mixture of the two.
"Mmmmmmmm," she moaned around him, nursing gently on one fat stone before thoroughly tongue-bathing the other.
She licked her way back up his cock, her lips parting wetly and another moan stifled by his fat orc cock. As she resumed bobbing gratefully in Rorg’s lap, the big orc reached over parted the side curtain of the carriage.
"My dear," Rorg growled as he peered out the window, "I think we have arrived."
"Mmwwwaaaaa," Ava gasped, pulling up from the glistening green twist of his cockhead. "Sh-should I stop? Or should— mmmmppphhhh!"
Rorg answered her with slight pressure on the back of her head.
She agreed with his sentiment and resumed sucking. Her moaning and slurping grew louder as Rorg’s breathing became heavier.
She felt him tensing. Caressed and cradled his tightening bollocks. Looked up at him with her innocent eyes as she took him all the way until his little corkscrew tip was tickling her throat.
"HNnnngggggg!" the orc grunted, his fingers twisting in Ava’s golden hair.
His cock throbbed against her tight lips. Jerked against her tongue. Filled her mouth with the thick, hot, oily load of orc cum.
She sucked out every drop, rolling his cum in her mouth to savor it before swallowing as she looked up at him. Hardly a wince and, as she finally lifted her mouth from his cock, nothing but a smile to show that he had even cum.
"Mmmmmhmmm," Rorg chuckled, caressing her face and running one thumb across her lips. "Perhaps I should work with you more often. Now then... you friend awaits."
Only, Ireen did not await. As Ava opened the door she stopped dead in her tracks. She gaped at the sight of the shop, the dragon statue shattered, display cases overturned and charred.
"Oh my gods!" Ava gasped in horror. "What happened?"
Rorg growled with annoyance, making the connection with ease. "Seems someone wanted your statue," he noted, keeping silent on his own part of this work, but at the same time bemoaning the shoddiness of it all.
"Oh gods," Ava gasped. "They’re going to sacrifice Ireen to the Deep One and summon him from beneath the sea!"
Rorg looked at her. "Eh?"
"The wug chief! He told me someone was going to summon the Deep One. It’ll flood most of New Larrin!"
"Cultists," Rorg snarled, slamming a huge fist down on table. The legs broke and it collapsed with a clatter. "Bastards! This is my city! Mine! I run New Larrin! Not those puffed-up nobles and certainly not these creeping fanatics!"
"There might still be time to stop them," Ava suggested. She unconsciously ran a hand over her abdomen, feeling slightly guilt about the weight of Rorg’s cum in her tummy. She probably should have been satisfied with that hard fucking he gave her back at her apartment.
"Where?" Rorg demanded. "I can have forty men ready to break heads anywhere in this city within the hour."
"The crypts!" Ava said. "They’ll be underground in the catacombs!"
---
The stonework glistened with the slime of seeping water, the high-arched room marked with rust and lit by torches. The chamber’s domed ceiling seemed to amplify the chorus of chanting coven.
The entirety of the Emerald Circle was in attendance. Every witch, wizard, and faithful killer lending their voices and their power to the ritual.
The chanting swelled and Ireen shifted atop the rotten wooden X to which she had been tied. It was made from huge spars that had once been support beams for some of the tunnels, and far too heavy for her to pull free or topple.
She strained against the ropes anyway, her pert breasts quivering and her nipples stiff in the cool dampness.
The foul stench in the air was more than the usual scent of decay to be found in the crypts.
It was a smell that grew worse every minute, issuing up from the deeper pipes and passages as though bile was rising in the throat of the city.
Not the Deep One itself. No, whatever was stirring was something Ireen had heard called ’the Catalyst’. She’d also gathered it was going to do terrible things to her.
Not a great situation, all told.
"Be calm, Marked One," one of the cultists rasped. "The Catalyst is approaching! Soon you will know the divine touch of His servant. Soon you will open the way for the Deep One."
"I think I’d like to take a pass on that," Ireen said, rubbing her wrists and ankles raw as she struggled against the ropes. At least they could have put a robe or something on her. Tying her to this thing naked was just downright inhospitable. "I have no idea what any of this means, but I am not the Marked One."
"Of course you are," the cultist chuckled. "The statue chose you."
Ireen tried to convince him otherwise, but her words were drowned out by another swell of chanting. The voices seemed to be building to a crescendo and the stink was getting worse. Whatever this Catalyst was, it was almost here. Ireen doubled her efforts to struggle free of the ropes.