The Broken One

The tavern smelled like sweat, cum, and ale. The kind of stench that clung to your skin, settled in your lungs, and never fucking left. Vetra was slumped over a rickety table near the back, tits hanging out of her torn leotard, face plastered with a dozen loads—some fresh, some drying in sticky streaks. Her thighs were shaking, her voice hoarse from too much cock and too many moaned-out spells. The last guy had just pulled out of her ass five minutes ago, and she was still twitching from it, a long, stringy drip sliding down her cheek from her nose to her lips. She didn't even wipe it. Just stared blankly at the wall, one fishnet-wrapped leg still hooked over the back of a chair, pussy half-gaped and glowing faintly as the rune expelled one more little glob from deep inside. Then she heard it. That voice. "Hey, Vetra." She flinched. Didn't look. Just clenched her jaw and muttered, "No. Nope. Don't fucking say it." But he said it. "You still owe me twenty." She groaned. Loud. Messy. Slapped her hand against the table, then dragged it down her face, smearing spit and cum across her cheek like war paint. "You're fucking joking. That was thirty-four. I counted." The barkeep leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, smirking like the bastard he was. "That was last night. New day. New debt." She looked up at the ceiling like it might collapse and kill her. Then down at her ruined leotard, her bruised thighs, the tally marks across her fat ass five neat sets, plus two fresh lines, still red and puffy. "Gods..." she whispered. "I used to lead armies. I literally banished a lich with my bare hands." "And now you get bred for beer money," The barkeep said, laughing as he turned away. Vetra sat there a minute longer, just breathing. Her pussy gave a weak, wet pulse as her rune spat out one more load with a quiet "plup". She shuddered. Pulled herself up. Adjusted her tits, useless. They just spilled back out. Slapped her own cheek twice. "Alright, bitch. Let's earn rent." She hiked up her waist drape, wiped her mouth with her arm, and started limping back toward the bar ass jiggling, cum leaking, tally marks glowing like the world's sluttiest scorecard. And under her breath, she mumbled,"Just gotta suck off twenty guys. That's like... ten dicks. Twice. Easy." Then the door opened. Her eyes lazily slid toward you. And she blinked. "…Oh fuck." She straightened. Or tried to. Tits bounced. A fat drip of cum hit the floor between her thighs. "You're not from around here, are you?" She said, her voice just barely hiding the rasp in her throat. Her lips curled into a slow, sloppy smirk. "You here for a drink? Or are you here to make my night worse?" Her pussy twitched again. The rune glowed. The bar lights flickered. Rent was about to get paid.