As Merrie got closer, she was relieved to find out that the glow didn't come from one brilliant source but instead was a collection of smaller lights hanging from the front of makeshift sheds and tents that formed some sort of village. The lanterns and glow stones dotted the floor of the valley ahead of her. In a short distance, less than a few hundred meters, they took a sharp turn and lit up along the cliff wall to reveal roughly carved paths and cave openings.
Her ears and tail were lowered as she continued along the path. The outer edges of the village were quiet but none of the buildings she saw looks secure or well-built enough to protect her against the light. If she picked one and was wrong, the rising sun would strip the flesh from her darkness and kill her.
The further into the village, the lights got brighter and she could see more signs of occupation: laundry hanging out on lines, garbage along the side of the path, and the sound of snoring. However the shanties didn't look any more secure, only jammed with more fabric and garbage to fill in the cracks against the weather. They also had windows carved or shaped into the sites, a normal convenience for most beings but fatal to her.
As much as she was looking forward to having some prisoner dominating her, the need to keep alive was warring with her lusts. It wouldn't matter if she was forced to choke on a cock if it took her months to rebuild her body. She suspected she only recovered from her fight with Lemetri because there was nothing to disturb her as she reformed her body; in the prison, she couldn't expect the same results.
On the other hand, it had been hours since she had been fucked and Fomasal's casual domination had awakened desires inside her. He was commanding when he dressed her and her thoughts kept going back to when he forced her chin up to inspect her collar. Her memories brought a heat along her pussy, a sparkling need to feel something inside her.
She stumbled through a light that was unexpectedly bright. It tingled along her skin and drew her immediately from her fantasies and into reality: she needed darkness before sunlight. Everything else would have to wait.
Whimpering softly, she crept further into the more crowded areas. She heard talking ahead. The voices were booming and slurred. She had heard enough humans and thriban to pick up the low growls of large men and warriors but little sounds of women speaking.
Her pussy grew slicker. It had been days since she had a cock inside her. Fomasal said she would be raped, but he didn't realized she craved the submission more than anything else. It wouldn't be rape even if she cried out to drive them to abuse her more.
She slowed down and pressed her body against a shanty made of sun-bleached wood. Creeping forward, she followed the line of the houses. Her knees dug into the ground, softer off the trail, as she pushed her way past garbage, flowers, and even through a small garden of fragrant herbs.
Merrie got lost more than once working with the darkness but she kept heading toward the sounds of the revelry. Finally, she came up around a surprisingly neat house and found herself at the edge of a village square.
The center had a well with sturdy but a makeshift cage around it. There was a small wooden table next to the opening. It almost looked like a vendor's table. A ruby light shone down from the top of the cage from a box with a keyhole-shaped opening carved into each side.
On the opposite side of the square was the source of the noises. At first she could only see men milling around, chatting and wrestling and joking around. The bulk of them were burly and muscular, covered in hair and scars. They were mostly human but she spotted more than a few thriban, mostly grays but there was two black-skinned ones that towered a meter above the rest.
Merrie whimpered and pressed herself against the wall, making herself smaller in the darkness as she watched with warring dread, trepidation, and lust.
Her initial impressions of the jostling crowd was quickly proved wrong. There were others. Skimpily dressed women and more than a few feminine men were among the crowd. They were working as they carried platters and threaded their way around the jostling men. They took orders along with empty flagons and wooden chits of some sort. When they returned, they had platters of steaming food and refilled containers. Even from across the square, Merrie could tell that whatever they were drinking was strong. It reminded her of the sake she tasted in the back of her throat when she used magic.
Merrie's attention focused on the servers. They weren't as beautiful as the folks at the Whore's Guild but compared to the rough men, they were stunning. Their bare skin glistened with sweat as they were mauled and groped. The men seemed to casually thrust fingers between the serving wenches' legs or into their cleavage. Only one of the women looked like she was enjoying the mauling, the rest of them appeared to be tolerating it.
“Stop that!” cried a young man.
Her head snapped as she scanned the crowd. She saw a struggle to one side. One of the larger humans had pinned one of the servers, a slender man, against the wall.
The attacker was bare to the waist. His skin was covered in black tattoos and deep scars. He had one hand pinning the server's wrist above their heads. His thigh—thick and corded with muscles—was jammed up between the server's legs, spreading them obscenely wide and causing the smaller man's small cock and balls to slip out from underneath the loincloth he wore.
The din quieted.
“S-Stop, Trien. Please?” came the plaintive voice. “I have to work.”
“I'm horny, I'm taking you home tonight.” Trien had a low, rumbling voice. He leaned forward, drawing his own crotch up until he pressed his obviously large bulge against the server's belly. “I'm going to fuck you.”
“No… please, you hurt me last time. Y-You're too big.”
Trien moaned and nuzzled up against the server. “It doesn't matter, Puss. Your ass feels so good around my cock.”
Merrie tensed as she watched as the man named Puss struggled against his much larger attacker. In a good bar, there would be a bouncer coming. At the Whore's Guild, Elf or Pristine would be attacking Trien already. But here, no one seemed to care as Puss whimpered and cried out.
It went on for a few uncomfortable moments. Then Trien pulled back. He kept his grip on Puss, pulling the younger man away from the wall.
Puss tried to pull his hand free. “No, not tonight.”
Trien yanked harder causing Puss to drop the flagon he was carrying in his other hand.
“Hey!” bellowed a gray thriban standing a few meters away. “That was my drink!”
“Fuck off, Horge!” snapped Trien.
The thriban stepped closer, his massive frame towering over the others. He had dark gray skin and bright yellow eyes. “You want to die?”
Trien shoved back with his other. "Not tonight. I want something small on my cock, not your hairy asshole! But if you don't back off, I'll do you before I nut inside Puss' ass."
Horge growled, his lips pulling back to exposed sharp fangs. He clenched his hand into a massive fist. “Try me and I'll choke—”
“Yo, assholes!” came a sharp voice.
The crowds melted away to reveal a woman with large breasts and wide hips. She had bright eyes, almost burning. Standing up on top of the bar, she was the same height as the surrounding men. The woman waggled her finger at the two quarreling men. “Don't fucking ruin my bar! You break something, good luck getting any clean water for a week!”
Both men cringed as did much of the rest of the bar.
Horge bowed his head and said, “Sorry, Rat. I forgot.”
The woman smiled. It didn't reach her eyes. “Forgot what? Who's bar is this? Well? Who's bar?”
“Rat's Bar and Whores,” came a chorus from everyone.
“And who's in charge?” she demanded.
“Rat!”
“That's right.” She patted her substantial right breast. The smile almost made her eyes. She pushed back her curly black hair over her ear. “Don't none of you forget that.”
She pointed to Trien and Horge, the painted nail waggling. “Now you two, kiss and make up. Thriban, your next drink is on the human. Asshole, keep your fucking mouth shut!”
Horge grinned broadly. “Well, then give me a double. Top shelf sounds good.”
There was a roar of laughter.
Trien glared at him and then at Rat. “Come on. That's all my chits. I spent a month earning them.”
The short-stacked woman crossed her arms underneath her sizable breasts. “Then don't spill my fucking drinks, Trien. It's a lot of work to make this crap you all drink.”
“Fine.” Trien grabbed a bag and threw it at Horge's chest. It landed heavily on the ground. Before anyone could respond, he grabbed Puss' wrist and yanked the slender man away from the wall. “Come on, bitch.”
Puss cried out, looking pleadingly back. “Please, Rat. Not this. Please? I beg you!”
There was a chuckle of laughter among the crowds but there was no compassion in the sound. Merrie felt a shiver of fear and sadness as she saw the tears glistening on Puss' cheeks.
The woman gave Puss a hard look. “Keep your screams down, cunt boy. I have a business to run. Horge, I get two chits from that bag for Trien's dick sleeve.”
Waving the bag, “No problem, Rat. I can give up a few.”
Merrie watched as Trien dragged a sobbing Puss away and toward the cliff. She shifted her body slightly and realized she was soaked. It didn't take much to realize she was longing to be brutalized herself. If it wasn't Trien, it was Horge, or it was someone else. None of men she saw looked polite and gentle; it was almost a promise of rough sex. Just like she loved to be fucked.
The serving girls and boys were nothing more than sex slaves, to be fucked as nothing more than holes.
It was exactly what she wanted. It didn't matter if she wasn't letting herself gain any power from it, the submission itself was her pleasure.
She leaned against the wall and let her tail wagged. She may have just found a place for herself at the prison. All she had to do was figure out how to introduce herself.