Jumping the Shark

Well now I REALLY wish we could convince Snowball to join the staff. Frankly speaking, as of right now most of the girls in my so called 'Harem Guild' lean more towards submissive roles rather than dominant ones.

While this is all well and good... If it has not already been established by now, I am a massive and unrepentant connoisseur of perversion and degeneracy.

Before my life recently flipped on its head one of my only comforts in this world was reading, collecting and... making use of erotic fiction. Even now I still find myself thumbing through some of my tomes whenever I have a scant few seconds away from my lover's attentions or from the paperwork upon my desk.

Opalina is very much so the ever sought after 'mommy-domme' archetype, but our schedules rarely align.

Look, all I'm saying is that after many stressful days of afternoon beers with Goddesses, fighting the criminal underworld and managing a complicated team of adventurers... it would be nice to be able to turn off my brain and just be put in my place for a few hours.

Sure, Sam is a switch. But she's a bratty domme, which is an altogether different beast. She's too submissive to just absolutely fuck my shit the fuck up, no matter how many lessons she takes from Opalina.

Some more variety would be greatly appreciated.

But alas, it cannot be.

Cherry seems to have for the most part accepted me, or rather I should say she's coming around to the idea of actually making the effort to try and accept me. It doesn't seem like we'll be having any problems regarding Peri, at least... unless her skills at housekeeping are even worse than her own estimation and she's unable to perform adequately. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Snow leads us back to the main tent where we'll officially make the adoption fee security deposit. Cherry and Peri are being given some time to go and pack their things before meeting us at the entrance once all the paperwork is finalized.

I'm in the Besthal Pet Shop's office filling out forms right now, while my Guild girls are off looking through the tents once more and telling the Beastfolk they became friendly with that we'll be leaving with the blue and pink kitties.

"Myaster, do forgive this lowly maid's attempt at flattery... but... nyaa. The way you fill out our documents, your penmanship... it's... so skilled... I've never seen anyone go through our documents like it was a breeze." Snow giggles while watching me tear through the stack of liability forms.

"Nonsense, my dear. This is what I was born to do. Not that that's anything to be boastful about, really..." I say after signing my name on yet another document and starting up the next stack.

The white Catgirl smiles calmly before leaning over the office's desk and staring into my eyes. For just a moment I cease my scribbling and she takes my hand into her paws and says, "I really do want to thank you for giving the two of them a chance. Really."

"Perhaps you should thank my financials instead." I brush it off with a laugh and look away from her gentle warmth.

"You can't fool me, Myaster. Even if you had all the gold in the realm you still would have chosen those two... Am I right?"

"Mm. Am I that transparent?" I try to hide a momentary smirk while adjusting my glasses but she clearly catches it.

"Of course, nyaa. I only hope you're able to remember me even after you return home with Cherry and Peri at your side, Myaster. Might I trouble you for one more sniff...?"

"I don't think I feel comfortable giving you the pleasure when it's just the two of us in the back of the tent, alone... why, in circumstances such as these a man might even be led to assume you're trying to seduce him, Miss Snowball."

Snow starts laughing until she sighs. "You're a lot of fun, you know that? I don't think I've met a man half as witty, clever, or as charming as you are, Myaster."

"Well, what can I say? You know where to find me if you ever want a good sniff. And it needn't stop at just that." Placing the final stack of papers down, I make an effort to flirtatiously tap the pen down against where I recently wrote the address of the Guild.

Snow purrs at the thought and the two of use rise from our seats. "Myaster may await his new trial maids at the entrance and I will escort the two of them to him shortly. In the meantime I recommend you go and gather up your gi-"

"BORK BORK BORK BORK-"

Off in the distance I can hear Scrap, the Dogman bouncer barking far, far more viciously than he ever barked at me.

Then, worrisomely, Flufferson begins barking just as loud.

Both stop barking and the sound is soon replaced by two Dogmen wincing in pain, stinging my ears even from all the way over on the other end of the tent...

"Stay here, Myaster." Snow jerks up and brandishes her riding crop in one hand and from her dress she pulls out a cat o' nine tails whip in the other, dual wielding instruments of sadism with fierce tenacity.

"Nonsense, the girls can help and I need to be there for them." At least until I figure out how to better utilize the powers of my eyes...

Snow reluctantly nods her head and I follow her out of the office and into the main tent properly where a great many customers and Beastfolk alike are running from the entrance in fear.

Flufferson and Scrap both lie there on the dirtied ground covered in wounds, bleeding, but very much still alive.

"BOSS!" I look to where Sam, Meri and Zutiria's weapons were being held to see they had the same idea as I had. Suit up and protect this place. Sam has her sword, Meri, her shield, and Zutiria her staff. Ready to fight at a moment's notice.

All three of them race towards the entrance, but I see the curtains of the tent flaps flickering with potential danger.

"WAIT!" I command them, and they all stop just before a massive red carpet is thrown through the entrance. Several Beastfolk security guards in the process of running towards the threat are knocked powerfully away before they could even see it coming, and some fall under the weight of the magnificent carpet as it unfolds over their bodies.

Then, I feel the air stir with mana pressure and I know that magic is afoot. The tent goes pitch black, save for Zutiria who lights up her staff at the last second.

A magical spotlight illuminates the entrance and a drumroll is heard, only for the single, trashiest Elf in all the realms enters and begins to make her way down the carpet.

With blonde hair and a curvaceous figure, she wears a shiny micro bikini that glitters with gold and much gaudy jewelry as her body can possibly take. In her hand she carries a large trumpet that she soon begins to blow. The elf plays a triumphant melody, making sure to shake her ass from side to side as she does so. After an awkwardly long trumpet solo the ghetto Elf stops playing long enough to make her announcement. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN OF THE BREEDING TRIBE, TODAY YOU HAVE THE HONOR OF SERVING THE NEEDS OF THE MOST SEXUAL MAN IN DEWHURST."

Oh, gods fucking damn it all.

I mentally groan, wishing for once we could have just intercepted a completely normal breaking and entry without it being some new display of ridiculousness meant to introduce yet another one of Dewhurst's 'finest'.

...This is only going to get worse from here, isn't it?

"HIS IS THE MIGHTY PENIS THAT CAUSES THE HEAVENS TO TREMBLE,"

Stop.

"HIS ARE THE HEFTY BALLS SWOLLEN WITH THE BLESSED SEED NO FERTILE WOMB CAN DENY,"

Cease.

"HIS FINGERS CAN PLEASURE A GODDESS, HIS TONGUE MAKES THE GREATEST OF FROGS BLUSH WITH ENVY,"

This was supposed to be my mental health day.

"YES, IT IS HE. MEN, BOW BEFORE HIM AND WISH THAT YOU COULD BE HIM. LADIES, SPREAD YOUR LEGS AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS,"

Sweet fucking Goddesses above and below it's not even over yet.

"HERE HE IS! SIR PIMPINGTON FARQUEHOES THE 69TH, THE LORD OF YOREMUM!"

The trumpet disappears and loud, blaring music erupts from all directions under the bigtop. Many Beastfolk begin to scream and hold their sensitive ears in pain in response. Snow holds it in like a champ, ready to leap in as soon as she gets a chance.

Oh, Gods.

...It's the fucking pimp I saw in the town square.

No, of course it's the fucking pimp that I just randomly happened to glimpse out of the corner of my eye back at Abner's funeral. Why would it possibly be anyone fucking else? Yoremum isn't even a fucking province and I sincerely doubt there were sixty-eight of your name before you, you inane artist of bullshit and debauchery.

A dozen other magical spotlights burst into being, lighting up an entire squad of about fifteen slutty dancers dressed in similar sluttish attire to the Elf whore. They're a very well balanced crew of Humans, Dwarves, Elves and even a few Orcs. I'll give them credit where credit is due, the dancers sure know how to use what they've got to their fullest advantage.

Ghetto skanks are about as far from my type as one could get, though, so I'm hardly aroused.

I wish I were making this up, I truly do, but a gigantic golden penis chariot bursts through the entrance being pulled by the two sluttiest looking sluts yet, a black-skinned human woman with an afro and a buxom elf with ratty-ass looking dreadlocks.

They're doing that thing that henchmen do where they wear complementary costumes that mirror each other's styles, only it's barely noticeable since they're practically wearing nothing to begin with.

Both these women are being held by the reigns of the chariot as if they were horses and they have golden slave collars complete with golden chains. The man, the myth, the ruiner of my day himself, Sir Pimpington stands erect atop the massive dong and spreads his long pimp coat out for all to see.

Thankfully he was not actually flashing the crowd.

Instead, on the inside linings of his expensive and gaudy coat were ten different bottles of champagne which all shoot their corks simultaneously covering his many, many dancers and his chained women with a tremendous flood of expensive alcohol showering down from his position atop the golden phallus.

The implied imagery is about as subtle as you'd imagine.

After doing an admittedly impressive dance routine from his position on top of the giants glimmering golden cockhead, Sir Pimpington mightily bangs the bottom of his cane against the penis of gold and loudly declares to everyone inside the Besthal Pet Shop, "ALRIIIIIGHT! I'M IN THIS, BIATCH!"