532: An Angry Kitty
“I-I-I don’t know everyone by name!” Jim, the guard, stammered, on the verge of fainting. “I heard most of the prisoners from the Inn were taken here. Maybe some of them were placed in another cell after interrogation? Maybe some died together with Captain Rivaldo in those fires?”
“FIRES!? WHAT FIRES!?” Y’Shtara raised her voice as she jumped to her feet. The guards that she held down no longer needed any help slurping up the milk from the floor.
Beatrice threw a glance at Ember.
“Oh… About that,” Ember let out a nervous laugh. “After you were captured, I heard there was a fire in the Beaver District. As far as I know (we were on our way to the palace then) they put it out quickly, but your Inn might have also been partially caught in the fire, maybe?”
“Might have?” Beatrice remembered clearly the fate of the Inn.
Y’Shtara closed the distance between herself and Ember in two seconds flat and grabbed the fire mage by her new, sexy outfit, “I swear, that if there’s so much as a broken window, you’ll pay me back if it’s the last thing you do!”
“We don’t even know why the Purples captured you. For all we know—”
“AS IF!!” Y’Shtara interrupted Ember’s bullshit. “Beatrice this, Beatrice that! That’s all any of us were asked any time they questioned us!”
“Fair enough,” Ember shrugged. “I’m sure Lord Belmot will be more than willing to part with a few additional possessions of his after we have a persuasive talk with him.”
After Y’Shtara let the fire mage go Beatrice returned her attention to Jim and said, “We still haven’t found everyone. What about those from the Games? Maybe Tabitha’s with them?”
“I heard that some were put in isolation, including our own men,” the guard explained. “Something strange happened to them. I don’t know where they’re kept. Others might be on the next level. A good portion were either drunks or high out of their minds.”
Beatrice took note that she hardly saw more than a couple of people she could recognize from her time in the mines. And none of the survivors from the tournament itself: neither Lilith, nor Number Seven, nor—
“Felicia,” Beatrice said in a low, venomous tone.
“The insufferable little scout for the Guild?” Y’Shtara asked.
“That would be the one,” Olivia nodded.
“Oh, I can lead you to her!” Jim jumped at the opportunity to be useful. “Just a little while ago we had to change the guards there because one of the princesses murdered them all.”
“Then lead us there at once!” Beatrice ordered. “I have some unfinished business with her.”
Beatrice then thought for a second, turned to the milk slaves that guarder Jim and said, “You two, go find our big friend and bring him to us! Actually, wait a second, we’ll mark the way as we go, I’ll just need—”
“Wait, you’re CONTROLLING them!?” Y’Shtara asked Beatrice. “What the hell did you do to them!? EMBER, what did you get me and my sister involved with!? Were they right that she’s the one that summoned a demon to this city?”
“NO!!” Beatrice denied the false rumors.
“Where to even begin?” Ember asked with a little smile, and Beatrice had to agree: where to even start explaining all that has transpired since they left the Inn?
“I’ll try to summerize on our way to the little murderous hairball,” Beatrice said.
“‘On our way’? HELL NO!” Y’Shtara put her foot down, making the milk splash over the guards that crawled all over the floor on all fours, slurping the milk like starving kittens. “I’m taking my sister and everyone else out of here!”
“Oh, right,” Beatrice had momentarily forgotten that most wouldn’t want to spend another second in here, especially going deeper into the den of one of the main powers in this city. “Yeah, sure! Absolutely! Do that! My milkafied won’t touch you, and there shouldn’t be many Purple Capes left between here and the way out. Will you be able to find it?”
“We’ll manage!” Y’Shtara said flatly and motioned Y’Shlata and the others to follow her, taking a few extra steps around the strange milk slaves. As she passed Ember, she added, “We’ll talk again soon, so don’t even try to pretend that you died here!”
“It’s a date!” Ember smiled like nobody should smile after turning a friend’s business to ash.
As Y’Shtara and the others left, Beatrice she walked up to her three obedient milk slaves, awaiting orders. Specifically, Beatrice’s intentions were with the third Purple Cape, a woman, and ordered, “Remove your armor and shirt!”
“W-what!? We don’t have time for this!” Olivia protested.
“Quiet!” Beatrice ordered while the milkafied Purple Guard let her big, juicy titties drop.
The succubus then touched the woman’s breats and cast [Lactation (+2)] on her. The breasts instantly grew in size, past D-cups, E-cups, slowly settleing on big, swollen, abnormally perky, filled to the brim F-cups.
“Spray some milk on the wall!” Beatrice ordered and the woman obeyed. Beatrice then told the other two milkafied Purples, “Take a lick, to know what you’ll be looking for and go bring Grizwald to us!”
The two slaves obeyed, though their lick of the milked wall was an obviously long and increasingly entuhsiastic one as they licked the entire length all the way to the floor, which technically qualified as “a lick”. And after holding a longing stare at the woman’s giant, swollen, lactating F-cups, they obeyed Beatrice’s order and left to bring their main milk supplier.
“Jim, you’ll be helping this lovely lady hold her breasts so that she can keep up with us,” Beatrice instructed. “DON’T drink the milk! Not even a drop!”