Chapter 17: Chapter 9: Everyone is Shouting about Spiced Schnapps

Last chapter of Act One!

This brings everything and everyone together, so will have far more moving parts than most previous chapters. I hope it's still readable!!

CW: One brief allusion to self-harm. And all the usual absolutely vile shit, but I thought that one was worth flagging up because it's not usual.

Joanna wasn't sure she liked Tatiana’s new boyfriend very much. She didn't like the vibes.

But they’d only just met. She ought to give the minotaur a chance.

“So how does the ‘sex slave’ thing work?” asked Joanna, looking at Rutt’s dick, “You’re not taking that up your foof are you?”

There was no way. No fucking way. His dick was longer than some people are tall, and thicker than Joanna’s own thighs. No way was Tatiana’s foof fitting in all that throbbing junk.

“Oh no,” Tatiana assured her bestie. “I just gotta wank him and eat his besthole and stuff. No girlie in the world could take my man-bull's meat up her foof and survive.”

“To be honest, I’ll probably fuck her to death when I eventually get bored,” Rutt elaborated. “Or when her teats start to sag.”

Tatiana patted her boyfriend gently on the arm and said, “Well, we’ll talk about that nearer the time, babe.”

”Uh huh,” said Joanna. 

“I fucking hate bitches with saggy teats,” said Rutt.

”Uh huh,” said Joanna.

The Minotaur reached out his beefy fingers and treated himself to a rough grope of Joanna’s 36A breasts. What there was of them.

“That’s never gonna be a problem for you with these pathetic little things, is it?” he laughed. “Come on, cunnies. Let’s get drunk!”

They hadn’t come to The Williowish Grinigog with the intention of getting drunk. Tatiana and Rutt had come here because it was the final destination on her milk round. And Joanna was just there because, as the Innkeeper’s daughter, it was simply where she lived. But as far as Rutt the Minotaur was concerned, they were in a tavern so it was time to get their drink on.

This didn’t sound the best plan to Joanna. She was far too young to legally drink on this side of the border to Ligature. And it was still only the middle of the morning. 

But on the other hand… she’d had a terrible month. A real stinker. Her fairy friend had betrayed her, destroying her happiest childhood memory and all her hopes for the future. The whole village now thought she was a nasty slut. The Miller had coerced her into humiliating sexual degradation. And now her best friend had gone and got herself a rubbish boyfriend. 

These had been the worst few weeks of Joanna’s life. She was pretty proud of herself that she hadn’t started cutting again. So why shouldn’t she go off the rails a bit? Why shouldn't she let this horrible smelly Minotaur buy her an ale or two in her own father’s inn?

“Sure,” she said.

The three of them got a table.

The taproom was full of men who were accustomed to Tatiana masturbating them at around this time in the morning. They looked over at the minotaur's table and picked up on the subtle signals that today she would be taking the day off.

But what a handsome sight the people at that table were!

Rutt, a slab of heaving muscular beef in a clean white toga. Rugged, brutish masculinity in its rawest and most perfect form. A seething and steaming embodiment of power and erotic violence.

Tatiana. Her soft, buxom body. The sexy blue and white milkmaid outfit. Those wide hips and humungous slutbags. Her cascading curls of butter blonde hair around a friendly, welcoming face. A face that made you feel loved just to look upon it. A face so warm and kind that you knew the godfolk had put it in the world to soothe and heal. Tatiana's eyes were there to look on you with kindness. Tatiana's plump lips were there to kiss you and make it all better. It was the face of a saint. No matter who had hurt you, or who you had hurt, Tatiana's beautiful face made you feel like everything was going to be okay.

Joanna Bolliger. Cute little tomboy. With her skinny frame and microscopic tits. Her short, pixie-cut ginger hair and her big black-framed spectacles. What a great, spunky, scrappy little girlie! A fighter. Down but not out.

The three of them, in three very different ways, were all hot as hell.

"Damn, I'd fuck any of them right now," said the Innkeeper.

"I have fucked one of them," said the Miller. They high-fived.

As the day went on, the Tavern filled up. First with people there for lunch. Then for supper. Then just to drink.

Which Rutt did all through the day. Ale after ale after ale. With no sign of him getting especially intoxicated.

The minotaur missed the beverage he'd been consuming back in the desert sands. Back in the merchant convoy, one of the traders had carried a trinket called an 'Amulet of Temporal Acceleration' that created some sort of localised time distortion field. Every night, when they made camp, he'd use it on a cactus to speed it through its cycles of growth and reproduction until what they had was a ton of very large cactuses. Then they'd juice them, and use the time amulet again to ferment the juice.

Within forty minutes this process would generate gallons of highly alcoholic and hallucinogenic cactus hooch. 

Good shit, remembered Rutt fondly. Now that shit could get him drunk. Even if manufacturing boozy cactus juice it wasn't the most obvious use for an 'Amulet of Temporal Acceleration.'

Huh, he thought, maybe that gizmo was what those Outer Space Robot People had been after. Oh well. No use wondering now the merchants were all dead.

"Hey, you alright there, babe?" Tatiana asked, noticing that her man-bull was looking kinda faraway.

"Yeah, just not as fucking drunk as I wanna be. More ale!"

The group saw so many of the villagers passing in and out of The Grin that day.

"That man over there. He was the one," said Joanna, pointing out the Miller and explaining the painful and cruel ways he'd abused her besthole.

Rutt laughed, bought the Miller a drink and invited him over to sit with them.

Dabney Lever, Tatiana's father, joined the table too. He'd walked out of the Lever Farm to put a little space between him and Nikola. The atmosphere between them was tense since their bath. An ale at the Grin was sure to put his mind at ease, and he was very happy to join his daughter, the minotaur, and especially little Joanna.

Dabney found Joanna incredibly attractive. Back before she died, Dabney usually thought about Joanna while fucking his wife. Not the whole time. Only when it was time to spunk up. He'd look his wife right in the eyes most of the way through - he loved doing that, almost like he was trying to stare her out - then once he needed to nut he'd shut his eyes tight, picture Joanna's flat chest, and the cream would gush. Gush right out of his dick and slosh about in his wife's baggy cooze.

He was explaining about this to the table when Joanna interrupted him. 

"Mister Lever, you always tell that story," she said.

"Aw, be nice," Tatiana whispered to her friend, "He's grieving."

Parson Camenzind Ivermectin and his lovely wife Irene showed up around six in the evening to order some supper. They looked at the menu and selected bratwurst with sauerkraut. The cook brought the food to the table and forced a generous handful of  bratwurst into Irene's vagina while a group of villagers held the Parson down and made him watch as the Innkeeper, the Miller, Skeggy Regin, and half a dozen others raped her throat.

"I don't know what they were expecting, really," said Joanna. 

"It's wild they still come here every night," said Tatiana.

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The minotaur elbowed Dabney.

"You not gonna take a turn on her?" Rutt asked the Dairy Farmer.

Dabney shook his head sadly. He was too careworn and heartbroken to join in rape gangs. The other villagers understood that about him and didn't judge too harshly. 

Mrs and Mrs Mulberry showed up after that. They liked to get an early night, but would often show up at The Willowish Grinigog for a spicy schnapps before bed. The lovely old lesbian couple walked in just as Mrs Ivermectin's latest gangrape was coming to an end.

"Are you just starting or just finishing?" the cis Mrs Mullbery asked the Innkeeper, who was holding Irene's eyes open and pissing in them.

"Just finishing! Don't worry, my dear!" the Innkeeper said. "We'll be real quick. I know you nice ladies don't like to see this sort of thing! We'll just make this bitch forcibly cum then wrap up real quick. Real quick. What can I get you both to drink?"

"Oh, I think you know!" said the cis Mrs Mullbery.

"Spiced schnapps!" said almost everyone in the tavern all at once. The whole community loved the cute elderly couple and their cute, predictable habits. Everyone loved that they always came in at this exact time for spiced schnapps. It was so sweet!

Even Irene Ivermectin had tried to join in and call out "Spiced schnapps!" but she couldn't because the cook and the Miller had their dicks in her mouth. 

Only two people hadn't shouted out "Spiced schnapps!"

Rutt the Minotaur hadn't because he hadn't known that was what one was meant to do. He'd know for next time.

And Parson Ivermectin hadn't because he'd been too busy shouting, "No! No! NO! STOP! MY WIFE! STOP IT YOU MONSTERS! STOP IT! IRENE! IRENE! NO MATTER WHAT THEY DO TO YOU I'LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU, IRENE! YOU'LL ALWAYS BE THE BEAUTIFUL CHASTE GIRL I MARRIED! NO, NO! I LOVE YOU, IRENE! GET YOUR DIRTY HANDS OUT OF HER BESTHOLE!"

"Damn, Irene's cumming hard tonight," said Joanna.

"Yeah, I don't think she normally cums when she's raped, does she?" wondered Tatiana. "She normally just hates it."

"Must have been the sight of my dick this morning," Rutt suggested, "Put her in the mood."

"Hey, you know what? Maybe it was, babe! Anyway, good for you, Irene. You get it, girl! Ride that orgasmic wave."

Irene cummed. The guys all got off her. The trans Mrs Mulberry asked her if she was okay and passed her a towel. The Innkeeper brought over the spiced schnapps.

He also brought over some bad news to the Minotaur's table.

 "Mister Monster, sir," he said, "You have been drinking all day now and our supplies of ale are all but depleted. I wonder if I may ask how you intend to pay?"

"TO PAY?" roared Rutt, leaping to his feet, upturning the table.

The Innkeeper would have pissed himself in fright, but his bladder had recently been emptied into the eyes of the Parson's wife.

"To pay?" the minotaur repeated, "I'll tell you how I intend to fucking pay!"

Joanna shot Tatiana a sharp look, as if to say, "You sure this dude's The One, hun?"

"Please don't kill me," said the Innkeeper.

"What? Kill you? What the fuck are you talking about? I'm telling you how I intend to pay."

"Oh. Sorry. Please continue."

The minotaur strode to the centre of the room. He was not just addressing the Innkeeper now. He was, somewhat theatrically, talking to the whole room. 

He was talking to Parson Ivermectin and his bratwurst-stuffed wife.

He was talking to the cis Mrs Mullberry and the trans Mrs Mullberry.

He was talking to the Miller (whose name was Henri) and the cook (whose name wasn't Henri but everyone thought it was because it sounded a better name for a cook than a Miller). 

He was talking to Nikola, who'd just walked in to see where his father and sister were.

Rutt the Minotaur was talking to all the people of the village of Spetlamu.

"I am going to pay by... saving your village!" the Minotaur declared.

There was an awkward silence. Everyone was waiting for someone else to point out that the village wasn't in any danger. 

"The village isn't in any danger," said Tatiana.

"Bitch, I've been here all day," Rutt the Minotaur thundered, "I have sat and drank and talked with each of you. I have seen how you live and spend your lives. I tell you this! There is a terrible sickness in the heart of your village! There is an unspeakable evil within this community!"

"This minotaur is talking a lot of sense" said Parson Ivermectin. "I think the problem is how how often you all rape my wife."

"Nah, that's cool," said Rutt. "The problem is vampires."

"Vampires? What about the vampires?" asked Dabney. 

"This village is ruled by vampires," said Rutt.

"Yeah, one of them's my boyfriend," said Nikola. "They're okay."

"This village is under the dread dominion of the notorious vampire Burgrave Chevoy Vesh. From the foreboding castle that looms atop yonder crag, gifted to him by the serpent that nests in the Queen's womb, the wicked and unholy sanguisuge governs Spetlamu according to the whims of his dark, unbeating heart. Stealing your healthiest babies and buggering your cutest twinks."

 "That is indeed our system of local government," said the Inkeeper, "But I don't quite get what that's got to do with you paying for your drinks?" 

"I am going to save this village!" Rutt reiterated, "I am going to storm Castle Vesh and kill every last stinking vampire within!"

"Absolutely nobody wants you to do that," said the Milkmaid. "The vampires are chill."

"I'm going to do it anyway," said the Minotaur.

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