Wow, got this one out in less than a year. New record it seems! This one gets a bit darker near the end, tempers flare. Hope you enjoy it regardless.
Just to be sure, all those taking part in any sexual activities or in the vicinity are over the age of 18, most very much so.
*****
"Right, now I want you to repeat that back to me so I'm sure you understand it," their instructor demanded, pointing at the man who'd been foolish enough to choose a seat where examples could be made.
The bald beefy soldier grew nervous, glancing around as he became the center of attention. He plucked at his new accessory around his neck with unease, a slim but sturdy leather choker with a thin strip of bright pink silk along its center and a small hooked clasp. Currently a linen pouch hung from the clasp, secure from accidental release but easily removed if desired. It was impossible to miss even from a distance and his fellow human students wore similar chokers, if not all the same color.
"Um, er.. Pink means the orcs has chosen you. So you gotta do as they say, but don't gotta listen to them other ladies except for.. them's orders that ain't about sexual.. entercurse?" he glanced at Jilly and Gilly, the women who'd seemed to have adopted him in particular. They leered at him possessively, proud that he was the center of attention. His face grew red, he probably wasn't going to get much rest tonight again. The curvaceous sexfiends clung together whispering feverishly into each other's floppy pink ears as they pinned him with their gaze. If the chokers didn't work they would have to fabricate several dozen rape whistles for the men.
"Exactly right! It's 'intercourse', but I see you've got the idea," Bill praised. "And what did we learn 'No' means when an orc tells you it's time to remove the pouch?"
"Err.. Sayin' no means what we was really sayin' were 'Yes, but 'arder', sir," he repeated back dutifully. While his world had been turned upside down, his military training had prepared him well to obey odd customs and protocol without much thought. This was not any different than learning who to salute and who he could tell to bugger off. He plucked at his pouch, mind and body at war with having his thoughts cleared of the sexual haze his life had been for some time. He wasn't sure if it had been days, weeks, or even months. He did not find the pipeweed within to have a pleasant smell in any case.
"Bravo! You get a gold circle, I'm proud of you," Bill cheered, flipping a gold coin into the man's surprised but appreciative hands. He had come to the conclusion that money was completely meaningless to a man with no intention of paying for anything. The conscripted members of his burgeoning rebellion might find some use for it amongst themselves so he used his stolen currency for positive reinforcement.
"Moving on I'm going to go over the other colors again. Everyone needs to learn this so I want you attention as well, ladies," Bill instructed, waving his hand at the assembled orcs and some of the new arrivals. He continued his lecture, pointing out the chokers and explaining their meaning to those that did not know. Asylum had become very cosmopolitan in a short amount of time.
A few women were in attendance sporting eagle legs below the knees, complete with wicked talons. Huge wings replaced forearms and hands, they used their talons for grasping and manipulating anything they couldn't hold between their wings. The women had arrived when they spied the new conditions in the quarry town on their flights.
The harpies' expressions did not fill him with confidence of their intelligence as they perched on their chosen man's shoulders. He wasn't sure if they even remembered his name. They seemed to regard him as a novel oddity to watch but not really listen to as their heads twisted to the sides with wide eyed birdbrained lack of comprehension. They seemed to have no interest in bothering any of the other men, so it likely wasn't going to be an issue. Their husbands' chokers were lined with their own feathers, glued to keep them secure.
Bill had found them useful in any case. While they seemed unable or unwilling to follow complex instructions, getting them to invite the mamono they spotted to join their sisters in safety at the liberated quarry town was easy. They made excellent scouts and messengers, enjoying what they believed was a game their new friends wanted to play. The towers and quarry cliffside steps made for superbly secure nesting grounds to raise their young. He would find it difficult to convince them to leave even supposing he wanted to. Their husbands were quickly losing any fear of heights they might have had and becoming experts at mountaineering, mostly to reach the tavern when their wives were away. Despite their slight frames and light weight they were able to lift a full grown man into the air for short flights, though they rarely did it unless they were capturing him for the first time.
The other women were a diverse and exotic mix of species Bill had been thrilled to meet. A few centaurs, beast type women of all sorts, and humanoids like ogres, oni, and trolls. The calm good-natured troll had been a boon, her incredible affinity for horticulture easily solved the need for the not-quite-tobacco plant which allowed the community to function. Scipio was ecstatic to learn it was easily a match for his own elven brand.
The other mamono raised their defensive and industrial capabilities by leaps and bounds.
The oni were nearly as strong as Sarah, the red one in particular carried a club that rivaled her hammer. If they could only convince her to stop drinking she might even be useful. Tabitha still remained heavyweight champion, she'd lifted with effortless ease both weapons at once when Larry had urged her to show off during the drinking contest the arrival of the oni party had triggered.
Surprisingly, Tabitha got along famously with them. Apparently they were immigrants from her mother's homeland. They weren't even certain how they'd ended up here, finding themselves in this strange new land after waking from a particularly raucous party. They weren't much concerned, and for that Bill felt a kinship with the laid-back women. Tabitha and Larry spent most evenings with them now.
Luckily the blue ones were intelligent and considerate enough to abstain from drinking at all times. Unfortunately, when they did indulge they were far more of a problem than the red one. The lightweights would attempt to keep up with red's obvious mastery to Bill's dismay. It was like dealing with a weekly bachelorette party of particularly repressed office women who were desperately ready to lose their inhibitions. It took Sarah and Tabitha's intervention to drag them off for a sobering dip in the ice cold water of the nearby river that was their water supply. Since the first few incidents they were forced to party outside the walls.
The pack of ogres had been a problem from the start. Their belligerent natures, greater than average strength, and confidence in their numbers made them believe they were above listening to any instructions or rules. Bill had nipped that in the bud with a series of vicious beatings handed out by his management team. It had been particularly enjoyable watching Sarah charge their formation as they'd attempted to take command. She'd scattered them like bowling pins, clearly High Orcs being designed for just such a maneuver. They towed the line now, sullenly following orders and ready to defend the community that offered the easy comfort and good eating they'd come to enjoy. They'd damn near broken into tears when Bill threatened to have them thrown out.
Once the quadruped friendly ramps to the walls were finished the centaurs would make approaching within arrow range a losing proposition. Their prickly personalities made dealing with them a bit difficult, but Bill and Scipio had won them over with polite diplomacy and easy humor. Bill had expected them to heap derision on Larry's stupid gun, but they'd responded with guarded interest. Something to think about if times grew desperate. They treated Helena with veneration, something she found intensely uncomfortable. Bill was certain if any woman approached Felix with lustful designs she'd catch a storm of arrows before coming within twenty yards.
Bill decided to continue his instruction of the Rules of Engagement with the special case that Helena represented.
"Now I'd like you to turn your attention to Felix here. Notice the fetching and arresting outfit he's modeling. Give us a twirl, Felix. See that there will be no mistaking him for someone else," Bill said with cool professionalism, pointing out the details. His next words were filled with dire warning.
"No excuses will be accepted, and punishment for poaching will be absolutely legendary in the suffering you will experience before death," Bill explained, deadly serious as Felix modeled his new outfit, mortified. He not only had a red lined choker, there was a stripe of red down both sleeves of his coat and pant legs. A large red X was displayed on his back, and two bracelets on his wrists.
"I cannot express in words how absolutely suicidal it would be for you to bring any harm to Helena by molesting this man. As far as you're concerned he's untouchable. Trying your luck with me would be trivial by comparison, and you'd be regretting
that
until your dying day."
"If you can't take me seriously, please give your attention to my lovely teaching assistant and designated executioner to your left," Bill said, waving his hand towards Rekka. As one the group turned to look, most with extremely uncomfortable expressions. Except the harpies, they remained staring at Bill for a moment before they caught on, and treated her as no more curious than him.
"He ain't said the half of it. Don't fuckin' try it. I ain't gonna be quick. You're gonna have all the time in the world to regret it," Rekka said with uncharacteristic calm as she leaned casually against the wall. The hellfire in her eyes flaring threateningly spoke volumes. Despite her small stature the lessons she'd doled out with appalling violence had earned the respect of any troublemakers in their midst.
Not to say that they'd spent the last few weeks cracking skulls, most of the mamono got along famously, thrilled to join a community. Bill would have preferred to take it easy and rest for what he had planned next, but running his stolen town was nearly a full time job. He was pushing hard to get everything running smoothly without his direct intervention.
"Okay, I hope we've stressed how seriously we take all this. I really don't like threatening everyone, I want this community to be a place of safety and joy. I know you men didn't get a say in this but I think you'll find your time here will not be one of misery. Thanks for taking one for the team, you're big damn heroes. Maybe we'll build some kind of monument for you when this is all over."
Bill didn't feel too bad for the men, most of them would have been quite happy to kill him and all his friends not long ago. They were having a pretty good time in any case. Maybe once this really was over he could hold a class on consent. Probably not, he'd be too busy relaxing at some beach with Rekka if he could help it.
Looking over the crowd he noticed one of the werewolves that he'd sent on close perimeter patrol was waving nervously to get his attention, likely another emergency had been delivered to their doorstep by a new flavor of mamono.
"Okay, one last thing. If a man has a yellow stripe, he's out of the dating pool. His job is considered too essential to be dragged off at inconvenient times. Now, this doesn't mean you fellas can't fall in love when you find your soulmate, I'm damn certain it would end in tragedy if I even tried to stop it. Just know that you're going to be dragged kicking and screaming back to your job as necessary. Feel blessed, you men have all the free will violence can enforce. I recommend you keep your jobs essential if you want that to remain so," Bill finished, waving at the barkeep, labor foremen, cooks, and quartermaster.
