I’ve never seen anything as astonishing as this chamber before, and I well and truly mean that.

Sam, Zutiria, and Meri enter the dungeon’s suspected halfway point and are greeted by the sight of a golden warehouse filled to the brim with tall, lengthy wooden shelves. There are six shelves in total, split into two rows. Down the middle of the room, running east to west, is a wide aisle. The shelf rows are divided to the north and south of this aisle, with three on each side. This creates seven total aisles if one includes the walls, which are giant shelves as well.

Packed on each shelf- including the wall’s entire circumference- is a treasure trove of eroticism. As far as the eye can see is populated densely by every manner of sex toy imaginable, and more.

Expertly crafted dwarven dildoes, rugged cock rings, bejeweled anal plugs...

Cutting edge arcane tech vibrators...

Enough Succu-bye to keep all of Karnalle childless for years...

Imported Ikkuni onaholes and male masturbation sleeves... 

Countless instruments of bondage and rougher pleasures...

Potent aphrodisiacs from nearly all the known realms...

Sexy lingerie and erotic costumes galore...

Entire barrels full of expensive lubes, including some brands I’ve never even heard of... 

This chamber must be the supply room for all of Sir Pimpington’s various brothels, only it’s been dungeon-ified.

I want it... I want this room and everything in it. If the girls need more Returners, I’ll run to the fucking Pimpfort myself and deliver them. I swear to-

“Honestly, Myaster...” Snow makes a disappointed scowl as she dabs her silky handkerchief to my chin. I snap out of whatever fervor I was just in and notice that without my knowledge, I began drooling an embarrassing amount. “You could at least try to hold in your nefarious perversions, nyaa...”

“Right, right. Thank you.” I blush, shoo her away and continue to inspect the new environment the girls find themselves in. It figures, but I overlooked the most crucial part.

Left Hoe and Right Hoe stand at the end of the central aisle. They block the way forward like true mid-bosses, their stance making it evident we won’t proceed until they’ve been taken down. Although the two henchwomen still wear no armor, I can see their energy covering their bodies like a second skin and recognize it as the defensive Art Steel Soul at work.

They won’t be taking damage very easily, although it’s to my understanding that you should still wear armor on top of Steel Soul... just because the Art makes bikini armor viable doesn’t magically make doing so a good idea.

Both women have taken their slave collars off. They’re instead wrapped around each woman’s wrists like bracelets, and they hold the chains in their hands as whips like usual. Noticeably, something’s changed since we saw them in the entrance hall. The chains on their collars are no longer made of gold and are now completely iron.

I suppose that means they and their employer must have learned a very valuable lesson about visible weaknesses... though considering they’re still dressed like exotic dancers, perhaps not.

“You’ve made it this far, adventurers,” Left Hoe says as she fires off a threatening crack of her whip, powerful muscles rippling from her black-skinned bicep on full display.

“But now your journey is at its end. You won’t be making it past us.” Right Hoe poses, holding her hand behind her pointy elf ear as her dreadlocks sway from side to side.

Despite the severe tension hanging in the air, Sam holds back a laugh. Of course, since it’s Sam, it doesn’t stay held back for long. Soon enough, she starts reeling.

Zutiria and Meri become ashamed of their Guildmate, each girl blushing deeper red the more Sam laughs.

“...Is there something you want to say to us, girl?” The woman with the afro squints her eyes.

“Yeah, dude. I’ve been reading this one novel lately, and you just said like... the EXACT same shit word for word that the mid-bosses in it did right before the main characters kicked their asses.” Her Majesty gives both of Pimpington’s whores an arrogant, toothy smile as she draws her tremendous blade out from over her shoulder.

Snow, seemingly satisfied by this, clasps her paws together. “Not a terrible taunt, nyaa. Now make sure to make them suffer, Mistresses.” She says, sadism tinging her smooth, velvet voice.

“Oh, you’ve got SOME nerve, bitch-” Right Hoe grows closer to snapping, her pointy ears beginning to turn red with anger.

“W-Wait...!” Meri takes all the attention on herself and stands forward. “Can... c-can I ask you a question?”

“I don’t know, c-c-c-can you?” The Elf mockingly sneers at my lover, but the human at her side nudges her lightly on the elbow.

“Stop being such a bitch, Rhealyn,” The afroed woman narrows her eyes at her partner before turning to Meri. “Sup?” Her voice is a bit casual, but she’s not taking the situation lightly. Left Hoe is still poised to attack as soon as she needs to.

Meri is a bit taken aback, as am I. These two apparently have much more personality than I gave them credit for... though it helps that they aren’t just mindlessly repeating ‘Yes, Sir Pimpington’ over and over.

Meri closes her eyes shyly, but when she reopens them, they’re filled with conviction. “Um... Does the name... Sir Chasteworthe mean anything to you?”

Both the dark-skinned woman and the Elf, Rhaelyn, open their eyes wide at the mere mention of their employer’s former name.

“Lemira-” The Elf says as she sneaks a worried glance at her partner.

“Where the fuck did you hear that name?” Left Hoe, now known formally as Lemira, steps forward down the aisle. She brandishes her whip with an angry yet conflicted expression twisting her face.

I use my unique advantage to give the party some advice knowing full well the enemy won’t hear it. “Don’t push them too far, girls. They’re strong, and the intel isn’t that important. You can’t let them dictate the pace of this battle before it even gets started.”

Meri silently bites her lip, nodding once as she stares down the approaching foe. “What happened to that man that made him so... evil?”

‘Meri, be careful...’ Zutiria begins approaching the center of the aisle, and Sam follows alongside her.

“Evil? You bitches think he’s evil?” Lemira raises a dark eyebrow. 

“What else do you call an asshole who drugs hundreds of girls so he can put them to work in his sex shops, huh?” Sam starts getting angrier, and I fear my advice might be all for naught.

Rhaelyn sways her graceful Elven hips side to side as she sashays down the aisle to stand beside Lemira. “Look, we’re just as pissed about that as you are, you know. We tried fucking EVERYTHING to get him to stop, but-”

“Rhaelyn, they’re the enemy!” Lemira snaps.

“What? It’s not like you don’t want them to kick his ass, too...”

Upon hearing, Lemira becomes silent and hangs her head. Meanwhile, all of us are just left in total confusion.

“Uh... you chicks WANT us to kick your boss’s ass? Do you hate him or some shit?” Sam scratches the side of her head, ruffling her already tousled blonde locks even worse than they already are.

“No, of course not!” Rhaelyn and Lemira respond in that creepy total unison thing they do, but the loyalty in their voice is unquestionable. They’re mad that Sam would even suggest they would betray their man like that.

“He hasn’t ever just up and abducted girls to force them into ‘the life’ before. This shit is just... not him.” Lemira 

Nodding her head in agreement, Rhaelyn frowns. “Ain’t him at all. Not one bit.”

I’m having a tough time following this... why are these two so loyal to him? The way he treated them back at the main entrance was nothing short of disrespectful. Not to mention if Pimpington really was such an ‘honorable pimp’ until now, why has that suddenly changed...?

As much as I told the girls not to get wrapped up in the Pimp’s web of intrigue, I now find myself admittedly curious as to what’s actually going on here.

‘It seems to me that we may actually be able to come to an understanding. You love that... bizarre caricature of a man, yes?’ Zutiria awkwardly tries to be the mediator, but given how she’s completely inept at her people skills, her attempt falls flat.

The two loyal Henchwomen stare awkwardly back in response.

“W-what my friend is trying to say is if you really want us to put a stop to Sir... P-Pim...pington’s... plan...” Meri struggles to actually say his stupid-ass name out loud but pushes on, “Then m-maybe you could just... uh... scooch out of the way?”

“Yeah, sure. Lemme get right on that.” Lemira snarks back, standing completely still and not intending to move at all.

“Just ‘cause we’re pissed over what he’s done doesn’t mean we ain’t gonna protect him, you thick-assed skank,” The Elf adds in a bitchy tone while eying up Meri’s body up and down.

“I-IT’S JUST MY ARMOR!” The Shield Maiden hides behind her shield, comical, shy tears welling up in her eyes.

I sigh and look over to Snow, who seems to share my opinion. The older maid nods her head, and I give the order. “Girls, this isn’t going anywhere. Sam. Start the fight, but try to make it seem like you’re still trying to talk so you can take them by surprise.”

The Princess sighs and slumps her shoulders, lowering her guard for all to see. “So what, you’re saying is he’s a super sweet guy at heart and that the only reason he kidnapped a bunch of Beastgirls is that we caught him on a bad day?”

“No! He’s just-” Rhaelyn begins to talk but is taken entirely by surprise thanks to just how fast Sam is able to switch back into an aggressive stance and start dashing towards her.

The dreadlocked Elf has precious little time to stop the fearsome downward swing Sam readies over her head. Rhaelyn holds her chain above her head to catch the sword, which seems improbable at first until the chain begins to glow. Thanks to her skillful use of some sort of defensive Art, the iron chains don’t snap under the might of Sam’s attack.

“You bitch! I thought we were still doing the pre-battle taunting shit!” Lemira rears her wrist back. The woman whips her chains and aims right at Sam’s face in retaliation.

Unfortunately for Lemira, whenever there’s an attack to be blocked, Meri is there. The timid adventurer runs and tanks the hit, the metal of the chain loudly clanging against the metal of her shield. Sparks fly outward from the impact, bringing out the color of Meri’s crimson eyes as she clenches them determinately.

There’s no such thing as an underhanded tactic. Left Hoe and Right Hoe should’ve paid more attention when I had Zutiria blast the pimp with her lightning spell-  I don’t fuck around, and neither do my girls.