Whitney gained ANOTHER point of Strength and Agility, and finally hit her goal. Standing score of 30 points meant that her raw power went beyond what most would even see as possible. Her muscles swelled, her abs carved like dark marble and her arms sculpted like a statue of a Greek goddess.
As we talked, something came to me. I pulled up my Status screen again, and looked at the eighteen different progression meters I had. Each and every one of them had something in common. They all ticked forward when I had sex. With every orgasm either I or my partners have. Oh, my Class Progress and my borrowed Abilities might have other things that made them go, but they all came back to that. My mind was still on what Lucy had done to me earlier that day, and it meant something major. I could have that sex repeatedly, without harming my partners, for as long as my Stamina held out. That, in turn, meant that as soon as I was fully recovered, the training routine I was preparing us all to undergo would absolutely involve as much sex as I could handle.
Twist my arm, right?
Whitney, still overcharged from our massive fight the previous day, essentially dragged me off to bed after that. I discovered something as I tried my hardest to be an active participant this time. Well, two things. First, 30 Strength meant that she could in fact push my arm, head, or torso around at will, usually with two fingers or less. Second, and more importantly, the muscles around the base of her wings were incredibly sensitive to stimulation. The second I got my hands on them, originally just trying to hold on, her entire demeanor changed. She let me flip her around, rail her from any which way I felt like, just as long as I kept the pressure up on those overstressed muscles. Later, we would figure out that the more they bulked up, the more sensitive they became.
That afternoon, though, I had another major task. One which could not wait. Paige needed to eat. Sure, Gloria could feed her belly, but her Hunger remained. She had to be on stage, had to perform and be admired. She pulled on her clothes, a close-fitting jacket of modest length, and grabbed her twin whips. I had a feeling, then, and made sure that I had my own shield gauntlet and baton. The good one this time. Lucy and Amber came with us as well, just in case.
As the bus took us away from the city center, out towards the less-traveled paths, Paige started to get very quiet. When I asked if I'd get to come watch her on occasion, she stared ahead. As if she didn't hear me. The stop was not a place I would have thought she worked at. The road was not a safe place, one where people looked the other way. Where it was worth one's life to come unprepared. The door she led us to was unmarked. It led to a stairway down, lit dimly, and emerged into a room with two doors. Reaching out with a sigh, she opened the one labeled "staff."
When it opened, I immediately reevaluated what kind of "dancing" I had pictured her doing. The staff area of this place looked like a dirtier version of the back rooms of the Red Lights. It was early in the afternoon in the middle of the week, no customers would be at this kind of establishment for another couple of hours. Still, a selection of rather attractive ladies were back here in various states of dress and undress. They seemed determined, applying makeup as if donning armor. There was none of the humor and openness I had with my old coworkers. Their customers were set and what they could pull from them limited, and all of them had to eat.
A couple of them looked up at my presence, though by no means all or even most. None made any pretense of attempting modesty, having long since given up on the concept while within these walls. If I was there, escorted by one of their own, I was meant to be there. Lucy and Amber certainly looked more than good enough to be potential competition, though, both being unusual enough in their own ways to stand out. Paige walked over to one of the girls nearby. "Where's the boss? I need to talk to him about work I missed the last couple of days, I got caught in that demon attack."
"He's out in the main room, talking to the front coverage." Front coverage? Bar, bouncers, that kind of thing? No idea. This was not exactly the kind of establishment Lucy and I had ever really worked. Even the Red Light Rooms were transactional, at our own discretion. They never were our main income. Paige led us through a door into a larger room. It was dimly lit, and obviously arranged to promote exactly two things: a bar and a stage. On that stage was a dancing pole, in case I'd had any doubts whatsoever in my mind before that moment. Seated around the stage were about a half-dozen men, fairly burly types that looked like they could handle themselves. One was dressed a hair nicer than the others. Bartender? All of them had their eyes onstage, where a man was gesticulating as he spoke.
A short man. An Imp. His clothing was of decent appearance, though cheap quality. His purple skin and squat features lent an unpleasant air, not helped by his foreswept horns and lack of hair. I could see his Aura rolling off of him, a greasy kind of thing unlike the women of my Guild, and it felt unclean. Like his soul was making the room dingier and dirtier by its presence. I heard a hiss coming from my right, Amber reacting to his presence as if she had been slapped. "Marcus! Jay, we have to get out of here!"
The Imp, Marcus, heard our entry. "Ah, Diamond! So good of you to come back after missing work. And what's this? You brought me my ex? Amber, why don't you come here and sit down? Who are these two?" Amber reflexively moved forward a half-step, but stopped herself. This was going to take a bit of extra work, I saw, but unless things went radically different for the rest of this particular discussion I was not going to permit him to keep having a grip on either of them. I stepped forward a couple of paces.
"Sir, Marcus is the name? My name is Jeremiah, I came to explain your dancer's absence." I was feeling my way through things, watching for red flags or signs that we needed to make a quick exit.
"As long as you paid for her time and I get my cut, I'll let it go." Yup. That was quick.
I looked around. He had six allies in the room, I had three, and I was willing to bet a bunch of bouncers and a sleazeball were not remotely the equal of my team. "I think I see where this conversation is going. Alright, then, I'll be brief. I am a Guild Leader, and she has joined my team. I was here to explain this and work out scheduling, but I get the sense that you would not be interested in this."
"You're right. Diamond is my best girl, and the only reason I'm willing to let her crawl back at all after ditching us for two days is that she's profitable and a good lay. And she brought Amber back, though she seems to need retraining. I can fix that. And perhaps the new girl as well, she's sexy enough to run tonight."
By now, my forward steps had brought me up to the stage. I hopped up. From this angle, the short Imp looked even more of a pustule on the face of a decent Earth. "You will be doing no such thing. I will provide for them, you can forget their names. That's now the only offer I'm willing to make."
"You think I don't know who you are, Incubus? With your face plastered on television and your name echoing in the halls of every dark corner of this city? You walk into
my
domain, and then demand to take what is
mine
? Oh, no, I think not. I know what you've done the last few days, and you know what? I'm willing to make a bet that you aren't going to be able to back up that kind of threat alone." He snapped his fingers, and vanished.
"Jay!" I spun at my wife's cry. Lucy, Amber, and Paige were all encased in a pentagram that suddenly appeared, glowing beneath their feet. Explains why the Imp was confident I'd have to do this alone. I tossed a Disenchant at it by reflex, but it was woefully insufficient to do anything but bounce off. I became aware of a scraping sound. The men were armed with knives, and making their way up to me. One on six it is.
I didn't have time to scan all six, so quick impressions would have to do. Four of the men looked like they were confident with the weapons in hand. The other two, less so. One of those two had significant scarring on his knuckles, possible Brawler? I deliberately pulled out my heavy baton and flicked it out to extend. "Boys, you do not want to do this."
The speakers sounded. "Rough him up and eject him, night with the girls on the house." The thugs' eyes lit up. So. It was going to be like that. The first lunged at me, faster than I expected. The blade of his knife traced a line of fire across my chest. A shallow cut, though my shirt was not going to be any good anymore. The angles were bad and the quarters too close for me to blast him with fire, I settled for smashing him across the back of the head with my baton. He crumpled and tumbled off the edge of the stage.
Another dove at me with an overhand slice, I caught it on my Shield. He didn't hit hard enough to bug me, though I had to jump backwards afterwards to evade one of his buddies. The knife ricocheted off my belt buckle, resulting in my belt getting cut almost all the way through. The man stumbled into the one still reeling off of my shield, I dropped a Lightning Net on the two of them. Three to go. The Brawler was a tall man, my size, and went immediately for the knockout blow. I was out of position to do anything but duck, but when I did so he was wildly off balance and dropped like a rock as my leg swept his out from under him. I grabbed the pole beside me and jumped, spinning around it and landing on his head. He'd be concussed, but at least he wouldn't be bugging me for the next few minutes. My belt, of course, chose that second to snap as the movements overstressed it. The man behind me apparently learned his fighting tactics from grade school, he yanked down my pants in an attempt to entangle my legs. It almost worked, too, but I directed my fall to bring his neck in range of my left arm. I got him in a guillotine grip and let myself drop, stunning him.
