Swords, Sorcery, and Sex in the World of Greyhawk - Chapter 5 - Part 5

Chapter 5: Doggy Style - Part 5

"Steve. Earth to Steve!" Ashley's voice interrupted his reverie.

"Huh. Huh?" He started.

"What the hell did you say back there?" She asked.

"What? To the woman?"

"Yeah. She said something to you, and you answered. What was that?"

"What do you mean? She just asked if I was new here."

"You understood that?"

Steve stopped in his tracks, making people grumble as they detoured around the group. Now that he thought about it, she hadn't been speaking in...whatever it was they spoke with Casmir and the others. And he'd responded in the same language! He tried to reproduce what they'd said, making noises deep in his throat. It was a brawny language, with harsh sounds, spoken in words that carried enough punch that one needn't use more than a few at a time.

"I understood that." He told the others without explanation, and started walking again. The other students exchanged looks, unsure how to react, but Casmir only nodded grimly, as if he'd expected it.

"She's got a nice racket going." Ashley said after they'd walked for a bit. "Twenty percent for the exchange? Took her all of ten minutes." Steve looked at her. He hadn't thought about it; put that way, the twenty percent did seem like a lot. Then again, he had gold now. The loss hurt--more money was better than less, that was certain, but he didn't regret it.

"You talk too much, girl. That's Stefan's business." Wenzel admonished her.

"No, that's not right." Maria interrupted. "You're not paying for her time. You're paying a risk management fee."

"Risk management fee. Sounds like a hoity-toity word for thievery. I like it." Cheven said with a grin.

"You would." Erica sneered.

"No, seriously." Maria explained to Steve. "Think about all the risks she has. She has to keep plenty of gold on hand. That carries risk of theft, right? It also carries an exchange risk. What if the value of gold goes down while she's sitting on it?"

"Go down? It's still gold." Steve said skeptically.

"Sure it can go down. What if someone discovers a big new vein of gold around here. Gold values will go down."

"Nah, the gold's mostly south of here, closer to Dullstrand." Cheven said.

"Arrgh! That's not the point." Maria said, clenching her fists in exasperation. "Finally, she is implicitly guaranteeing that it's actually gold. The risk of forgery falls on her."

"A Dwurfolk earthtaster forging gold? At the end of the world, but not before." Casmir shook his head.

"Exactly! You're paying a premium for that certainty. You're paying to avoid the risk of forgery." She explained.

Cheven nodded, understanding quickly.

Casmir frowned, uncertain how to respond. Her words seemed logical, but he couldn't quite grasp how she reached her conclusion. Scarlet Brotherhood spy she might be, but she sure had an uncanny knowledge about money. Would the Brotherhood really send someone like her out as a spy to One-eye Cove? He couldn't think of any reason why they would, but that didn't mean anything. The Brotherhood's plots were more devious than a simple priest like him could expect to understand.

---

When Peter answered the door, he found the old priest standing in the hall with a candle.

"I haven't interrupted anything important, I hope?" He said. Peter looked down at the man, who didn't even reach his breastbone, and smiled.

"Nope."

"Ah, wonderful. Might I trouble you for a favor?" He said, holding the door open for Peter to exit. Without waiting for a reply, he started down the corridor towards the stairs.

"Ah....should I get dressed first?" Peter asked, looking down at his bulging loincloth, but Father Tain was already walking away, and didn't show signs of hearing. Shrugging, Peter hurried after him.

---

CONTENT TO BE ADDED: AFTER...

"It was kind of you to help an old man." Father Tain said.

"Well...I..." Peter shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise.

"Would you care to..." a sly grin appeared on the old man's face "...join an old man for tea?"

The old man's glance made Peter feel like he was swimming in the ocean, floating above unknown depths.

When he had put no more than a quarter-cup in each mug he set the teapot down and reached under the table for a narrow bottle. Uncorking it, he filled both mugs with a clear brown liquid.

"Strictly medicinal, you understand." He said, not turning around. Dropping in a cube of sugar, he mixed them so vigorously that his whole body shook.

"There you are." He handed one steaming mug to front of Peter and sank into his armchair with the other.

"All glory and praise be to Jascar." Father Tain said, raising his mug.

"Amen." Peter muttered into his own mug. Tilting his head back, he let the tea flow into his throat, only to explode straight back out in a fountain of spray.

"What is this?!" He sputtered. His whole mouth stung and his eyes watered.

"Hm?" The old man smiled, taking another sip from his mug.

"Woah!" Peter complained, shaking his head.

"Did I make it a bit strong?" The priest asked innocently. "What with you being so big an all, I figured you'd like it that way."

"A bit strong? A bit?!" Peter managed.

"Shall I make you something weaker?"

"Ah...no. No, this is fine." Now that his manhood was on the line, Peter could hardly protest while the old man was drinking it strong.

"Really?" Father Tain asked solicitously.

"Yeah. Yeah, this is great." Peter lied, trying not to grimace as he took another sip to prove it.

---

"Hey Ellie, you're with me."

Cheven appeared at their cell door.

"What?" She asked, swinging her legs off the bedroll.

Ashley and Mickey looked on, curious.

"Casmir says I can take you out for a bit. Want to come?" He said.

"Uh, sure. I guess." She rose.

"Great. Put this on. I'll be right outside." In his hands, he held up a red and white checked blouse, with poofy sleeves and laced up the middle.

"Are you kidding? It's a tablecloth!" Erica objected.

"Nah, it's perfect. The colors will draw their attention and if you leave the top unlaced that'll keep 'em focused on you."

"Who will?" Erica said.

"Here's a band."

"Aw, don't fret." He said, closing the door. She felt silly changing into the blouse and matching white skirt that Cheven had bought. She decided to wear her lone pair of panties, but the bra she'd been wearing when they'd arrived didn't work with the lace up front. Cinching the blouse, she stepped outside where Cheven was waiting.

"No, no, girl. You don't wear it like that. What'd be the point?! Loosen up those laces. And leave the top few undone." He pushed her back into the girls' room to change.

For a moment Erica considered telling him to piss off, but then again, he was only asking her to wear something sexy to the bar - nothing she didn't do regularly back home. And it was kind of nice, she mused as she unlaced the blouse, to be with a guy who knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to demand it. She removed the bra and stowed it away. Then she loosened the blouse down to her belly button, exposing the creamy skin of her midriff and the swell of her breasts. Pulling the string out of the top two holes left the neckline hanging loose atop her breasts; bending over, she checked to make sure that it would show cleavage, but cover the nipples. Barely.

"You're going like that?" Ashley said.

"Well..."

"So what, when he asks for your panties you going to give him those too?" Ashley smirked."

"Hey, I--"

"So it's true what they say about DZ girls, huh?"

"Fuck off, Ashley." Erica said. Trying to restore her mood, she stepped back into the hall, skirt flaring as she spun around.

"How's this?" She asked with a smile.

Cheven pursed his lips while he stared at her tits.

"It'll do." He concluded.

"It'll do?!" She replied incredulously.

"What do you want me to say? That you're hot? That men would pay good money to see your tits? They would, you know. If you ever need coin, you just-"

"Alright, alright." Erica said, mollified. "Where are we going?"

"All you gotta' do is sit there and look beautiful, girl." Cheven took her by the elbow and led her out.

"You want me to be your eye candy?"

"Eye candy?" Cheven said, unfamiliar with the idiom. He shrugged. "Trust me, they'll love you."

"Who?"

"The guys." Well, that didn't explain much, Erica thought. Taking her hand, he led her through the crowds to a swinging door, with men entering and exiting. The sign showed a woman in skirts, bending over to show her knickers, above the words 'Backdoor Sally.'

"What the fuck?! I'm not going whoring with you." Erica pulled her hand away.

"Oh, that?" Cheven looked up at the sign and chuckled. "That was before my time. The owner used to be a whore; took her earnings and opened this place. They say she used to like getting up the ass, that's how she earned so much." He leered.

Doubtful, Erica followed him through the swinging doors.

Like most of the buildings in One-eye Cove, it had an open ceiling to let in the light from above. A bar ran across one side, behind which a pair of young women dispensed flagons of beer. The rest of the space was taken up with tables and chairs - rough hewn wood that looked built to take abuse. It was filled with miners, men with the same dirty shirts and trousers as Cheven wore. An older woman wove her way between the tables with a plate of dumplings; she wore a bustier that kept her tits up and foward.

"That'd be Backdoor Sally herself. They say rubbing her ass brings good luck." He explained, watching customers feel her up. Sally didn't seem to mind, shaking her ass at them as she walked.

Erica suddenly wondered what she'd gotten herself into. She couldn't deny the tremor of excitement she felt watching, though.

"She's real, then?" Erica asked, remember the rauchy stories about her Cheven told at the camp. A thought stuck her. "How do you..."

"Ardin!" Cheven interrupted her by calling to a table across the room with sudden geniality.

The four men there looked up at their approach. They smiled at him, but spent more time looking Erica up and down.

"Survived another season, did ye?" The gray-haired one in the middle asked, rising from his seat and spitting in his hand. Cheven did likewise and they shook, and the others followed suit. "So who's this lovely, then?"

"This? A...a friend of mine. She goes by 'Ellie.'" He said, pulling up a chair for her and one for himself.

"Hell, even Cheven's welcome if he's with you." The others introduced themselves. Vanos didn't look much older than Cheven, with a sparse beard and a bent nose. Cale was his younger brother, the same looks but less hair. The last one was Bojan, middle aged with broad shoulders, a flat face, and stubby fingers.

"Enjoying the town?" Cheven asked.

"Nothing like living it up after a big sale." Ardin agreed.

"Sounds like ye had a good season, then." Cheven said.

"Not bad." He allowed. "Not bad at all."

"Well then. As long as the Lady is looking at you with a twinkle in her eye, why not make the most of it?" He said, pulling a deck of cards from his billowing sleeve. "A bit of Hazard, perhaps?"

"Haven't changed, a bit, have ye." Vanos chuckled darkly.

"Why change when y'er already perfect?" Cheven responded and the others laughed.

"Ah, why not." Ardin said, reaching down for his purse and dropping it on the table.

Two hours and seven hands later, Ardin pushed the last of his money across to Cheven.

"Damn." He said as he kicked back from the table. "You haven't lost your touch, have ye."

"Eh, Lady Luck is with me right now, but she's a fickle bitch, ain't she. No telling who's cock she'll come a'lusting for next deal, eh?" Cheven said, gathering in the cards and shuffling them.

"Not I." Said Vanos, rising from the table. "I'll take my chances with the girls. I reckon I still have enough change to keep their attention."

"I'm out too. Don't see the Lady lettin' go of your pecker tonight, Cheven." Cale said following his brother, and the other two men nodded.

"Ye sure?" Cheven asked with a broad smile. "Well, another night then." He said as the others left, scooping the winnings into his purse. It clinked heavily as he tucked it away in his trousers. Turning to Erica, her put his hand around her waist again.

"Well then, dearie. How would you like some dinner?" Erica looked around at the plates of dumplings at other tables. "No, I mean real food. From above. Dinner you've been wanting since you fell in that river."

"Your treat?" Erica confirmed, leaving his hand where it was.

"Absolutely. Only the best for my lovely nightengale."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Erica asked, rising from her seat. Cheven offered his arm. Surprised at the gesture, Erica took it and let him lead her outside. He led her though the crowded streets to another establishment, whose sign announced the Silver Lode.

Continued in Chapter 5: Doggy Style - Part 6

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