The Monster Girl Heroines And The Hero Hub

Ten minutes later--

“And who are you two? Never seen you two around these parts,” asked a rough and buff goatman as he examined the two strange women that had arrived.

“Who are we?” Elma asked, cocking her head back. She showed her chest a little, showing off the modest black bra she was wearing and the enchanting assets it was restraining. “We were ordered to come to this party along with the other girls.”

If there was something Elma regretted, it was that she didn’t ask about brothels or any big player in the district that she could try to namedrop. If things went south, they had a tentacle monster that would guarantee them entry.

“I was told there were some big names we couldn’t afford to disappoint in there,” Elma continued.

The goatman, one of two guards wearing light armor beneath elegant tunics, scoffed at Elma and Dorthaunzee. “What’s wrong with your skin?”

Elma pinched her face. “Our skin? Our most prized customers call it exotic. It’s quite rare to get this coloration where we come from--“

“And where would that be?”

“The South,” Elma quickly replied. She picked up this bit of info while scurrying through taverns for information. In this world, the people of the South were known to have darker skin tones. In general, it seemed like most of the people she talked to believed the South was a place of mysteries.

“You’re really grilling the working girls there, buddy,” said the other guard--a jovial young man.

“We’re paid to be careful,” the goatman shot back. He glanced at Dorthaunzee. “And this one?”

Dorthaunzee had arrived with a black scarf covering her nonexistent mouth and chin. Her lantern was also lit and exposed, but the ladies got the feeling the goatman was more concerned about her habit.

“My friend here--the clientele love it when she plays this role. It’s a people pleaser.”

“I bet. All kinds of riff-raff want to defile a holy woman.” The goatman glanced at the lantern. “And that lantern hanging above her head?”

“It’s a prop for dripping hot wax on the riff-raff.”

The goatman’s eyes went wide, and he almost “baa’ed” out of surprise. His coworker burst out laughing. His laugh called the attention of yet another.

“What are you louts laughing about?” asked the round-bellied man that came stomping out. “Oh my,” he said when he saw the two visions of gray-skinned beauty.

He became more flushed than he was the moment before, his grizzly and stained mustache wiggling as he panted. His robes and the many rings that adorned his fingers were too good for this overweight, made-up man. His breath wreaked of alcohol, and he could barely stand without adjusting his feet.

“And who are you gifts?” He looked at the goatman and barked. “Why are these precious things still out here?!”

“M-Mister Fergus, we’re just verifying their identities--“

Elma restrained her smile at the mention of his name. He was one of the problem elements.

“Fool! We ordered the best for tonight! Don’t you think these are the best?” He looked at Dorthaunzee and licked his lips. “Didn’t think we’d get so lucky that we’d be visited by a holy woman.”

Dorthaunzee’s eyes widened, and she looked at Elma, who urged her to keep her cool. Meanwhile, the human guard whispered something into Minister Fergus’s ear. Elma was sure he mentioned ‘hot wax.’

Fergus went pink all over as he looked at the lantern. 

“Oh my, oh my,” he said as he fanned himself. “Ladies! Please come in and dine on the finest food and wine this kingdom has to offer.”

Elma giggled and hooked her arm in Dorthaunzee’s. “Oh, finally someone who understands our worth!”

The two were welcomed warmly when they entered the main lounge. There, surrounding a central table packed with food and drink, were all manner of repulsive but well-dressed men and many women in various states of undress. Some of the women were having their fun sitting on some laps while others were clearly playing the tease, tickling the chest of the man they sat beside. 

Elma and Dorthaunzee had quickly found seats on a couch and arranged themselves so that Dorthaunzee was at the edge of the couch, and Elma was beside her. They stole many eyes when they walked in, but Minister Fergus had quickly staked his claim when he announced their arrival. He sat next to Elma and occasionally sneaked thigh caresses.

Elma, meanwhile, was unperturbed. She counted eighteen men in the room. Dorthaunzee would likely have no problem destroying this den of debauchery, but the women that were here--Elma had no quarrel with them.

Ten minutes into the party, Elma had an idea that, if successful, would expedite the night’s events. She beckoned Minister Fergus closer to her with a coy finger wag and closed in on his ear.

“To tell you the truth, we were sent here by someone special.”

Fergus was intrigued and giggled. “Pray tell, my dear; who do I have to thank for your presence?”

“We were supposed to be a signal of good things to come...” Elma whispered as she stroked the man’s stomach, mimicking the way nobles of her world would try to cozy up to those of higher stature.

“Oh my, oh my--are you not the good thing, my dear?” He licked his lips. “I would treat you so well should you let me enjoy you...”

Elma chuckled. “We were sent here by an intimidating man... Dreks. We’re his good sign.”

Fergus snorted and looked at Elma with the most enthusiastic grin. He let out a deep laugh and turned to his contemporaries. “Hear, friends. That incorrigible bastard, Dreks! He did it!” Fergus laughed and kicked the table, spilling his wine and the wine of others. “He sent us these gorgeous nymphs as a celebratory present!”

Elma giggled to herself as the chamber erupted into a symphony of cheers and revelry. Elma watched carefully as the women were shocked by the sudden uproar and the men toasted. Many of the men took the woman they were with and ripped their clothes off on the spot. 

“That bastard, Dreks,” one of the men roared as he smacked around the woman he was holding on to. “If he’s in a good mood, does that mean he defiled the princess?! That bastard! I’ll have him hang.”

Another responded. “What can you do, you old fart? Just enjoy the women we have now!”

Elma didn’t care too much for those degenerates. No, she ignored those when she saw them. She was looking for something else--the hesitant ones.

“One there, and another there... That one too...” she whispered.

The three she singled out looked downcast and were all sitting relatively near each other. One of them was on the verge of tears even.

“So that’s fifteen--Hmm?”

It took all that Elma had to not show her displeasure when she felt that swollen and clumsy hand grip her right breast.

“You, my darling, are the most wonderful deliverer of good news. Truly, you are a goddess of victory!”

“Oh? I would never profess to be as wonderful as a goddess... Can I tell you something, sir?”

Fergus was delighted. “Of course. What is it, my dear--Bfft--“ 

His voice was cut off by the gurgles that came from his fat neck as his blood poured out. He tried to clutch his neck, but she grabbed his hand with one hand and directed his gaze to hers with the other.

“There is perhaps only one person in all of creation I could be convinced to let enjoy me.”

She, ever so gracefully, flicked Fergus on the forehead and let him fall back onto the couch. She picked up the bloody dagger from between her thighs and stood up.

“Dorthaunzee, give me a second.”