It killed her to admit it, but having Ada in front of her again made Claire feel good, and not just because of the way her bottom swung like a tight pendulum behind a scarlet screen of silk. She'd been feeling a little doomed ever since fleeing the safe house, and only now realized how much stress she'd been under. With Ada leading the way through the castle's dark passages, up into the winding marble hallways and ornately decorated rooms, had her feel like this all might work out.
They were on their way up a flight of stairs into a high gallery when Claire realized she simply couldn't take her eyes off the woman. It was the fault of the parasite, she knew, but it was getting harder to remember that fact, harder to remember what Ada truly was and all the things they'd said to each other.
Something cut the air just above her ear. Another inch to the right and the crossbow bolt would have gone through her eye and out the back of her head, a fact that let her focus on something besides Ada Wong.
They'd been ambushed by a score of bald men with grub-white skin and black robes, all hiding behind one of four enormous marble pillars. Two held crossbows. One had fired at Ada, only to miss, both were reloading as half a dozen of their allies in robes came swinging spiked flails. Ada fired a bust from her machine pistol at the crossbowman closest to her, then over the heads of those swinging flails. Claire, for her part, peppered the group with several shotgun shells, killing three, making two drop their weapons and one duck behind the others.
More robed men with flails spilled in from the other side of the gallery; Ada spritzed each of them with tightly controlled bursts from her machine pistol while Claire held her shots for those who broke through and got close. She was almost feeling bad for them, until their ranks were joined by several robed figures behind big, wooden shields
She swapped her magazine out with one full of slug shells. The heavy lead splintered the wood, tearing apart skulls and ripping away faces. Her skin felt hot, her ears were ringing as she and Ada stepped over fresh corpses. In some, the parasites infesting them weren't dead and ripped from their twitching bodies in a desperate bid to escape, or at least kill their attackers.
"Cover your eyes," said Ada, tossing one of her flash grenades into the middle of a group of squirming, alien-like monsters.
Claire narrowly avoided being blinded by the flash grenade by throwing her forearm across her face. When she looked over it, she saw the disgusting critters rapidly melting, making the marble floor slippery.
Ada finished off the last one, a man in a red robe with a deer-skull mask, with a three round burst. She spun around in alarm; Claire hadn't realized she was standing only a few inches away. "Good work," said Ada, leaning in.
"You weren't so bad yourself," said Claire, as their lips met.
They spun into a side room, both mad with desire but still with enough wits to pick their spot. Ada pulled her down a flight of stone steps, the heavy iron door at the bottom wasn't locked. It led into a shadowy dungeon lit by flickering torches, but they only had eyes for the pile of robes left in front of the main cell. They were quiet as could be in getting out of their clothes, a little less so when falling on the robes into each other's arms.
There were so many reasons not to do this, thought Claire, but she couldn't think about any of them as Ada's hands slipped and slid all over her body, priming her nerve endings to be kissed and sucked. For a moment they were back in Paris, in one of the nice suites where they'd spent so many hours finding new ways to fit themselves together.
Her leg was over Ada's shoulder, their ladies grinding into each other when she was hit with a sudden moment of clarity. In the cell not ten feet away was a huge, shirtless man, his head and neck covered in a Roman gladiator's helmet. He was strapped to the wall, still as a wax figure.
"Uh, Ada."
"Let him watch," Ada said breathlessly, shifting her weight for more pressure on Claire's pussy.
Biting into her knuckle to keep from whimpering, she kept a careful eye on the gladiator in case he moved. He may have been strapped to the wall with leather belts, but everything about him said those were show. Her eyes were drawn down his chest, down his muscular arms to the long blades strapped to his hands, like enormous claws.
"A-Ada," Claire pleaded, only to have her leg hugged tighter, her pussy completely mashed. "Ada, p-please..."
Her begging went unheeded, as it always had been whenever Ada had her locked in this position. Ada had always taken a perverse glee in her humiliation whenever her screams had summoned hotel security. She should have known something was off back then, well before then, actually, but it had felt so good...
By the time it dawned on Claire that she'd once again fallen into Ada Wong's honey hole, it was too late. The orgasm building inside of her was about as stoppable as a half-million ton freight train. First it drew from her throat pained whimpers, then big, windy breaths. The gladiator stirred, his muscles rippling against his restraints. She yelped when Ada bit her leg. It meant she was cumming, quietly, and wouldn't be letting up anytime soon.
Claire tried harder than ever to keep from screaming, but it was no use. As her cries rang through the dungeon, the gladiator awakened, his bulging arms ripping through the leather straps, the locks on his hand-blades coming loose.
"Damn! Run!" said Ada, tossing Claire's leg to the side and sprinting naked across the stone floor towards the stairs.
That Ada might not have planned this didn't occur to Claire until the gladiator kicked open the rusted iron lock on the door to its cell and let out a scream. It swung its blades blindly as it stumbled towards her. She went to run but her legs were like a pair of wet noodles. She had to throw herself after Ada, narrowly avoiding behind sliced to ribbons by the passing blades.
They fled up the stone stairs, back into the halls. Claire was resolved to kick Ada's butt for this just as soon as they could stop and catch their breath, but when they rounded the nearest corner they ran fully into the chitinous body of Salazar's black-robed bodyguard. As they scrambled to their feet, it reached out with its two enormous, clawed hands, grabbing them both about the head.
XXX
Annette knew she had to hurry, or all was lost. They'd messed around too much, in her opinion, but her partner always seemed to know what she was doing in times like these and, so far, trusting her had always worked out.
She'd just come from the top of the tower that housed the ritual chamber. From a hole in the stonework she watched the thing Salazar had morphed into take the girl into its body. It resembled an enormous flower, with petals of gray flesh. She'd hoped for a show, something to remind her of her last night with William before his cells had destabilized and all of his wonderful appendages turned to red slurry around her. But, alas, it seemed that the wet, meaty part of the ritual would occur within the giant plaga bulb.
Was Salazar as good as William? Could the First Daughter truly appreciate him if he was?
Questions that didn't matter, but being a scientist she had to think about them, even as she scrambled for a way to destroy the castellan before the other two could be brought in for his pleasure. Unlike Ashley, they wouldn't survive his affections, either in body or in mind.
She cursed, finding herself lost in the dark corridors of the castle's inner walls. Where the hell did they keep all of the weapons? The real ones, not this Renaissance fair nonsense... there, up ahead, a flickering blue light, burning in a sconce set beside a wooden door. She went in, thinking perhaps it was an armory.
Salazar's castle had many strange nooks and crannies that she'd discovered, many of them incongruous with that of a medieval fortress, and this room was no exception. What Los Iluminados needed a film studio for, she had no idea, but the round mattress in the middle of the small room gave her some clues. She was startled when a gravely voice rumbled from out of the corner.
"Evenin', stranger."
The voice belonged to a man in a long, hooded coat. Around his face was a bandanna, but the shine in his eyes revealed him for one of the ganado. Impossible, unless...
"What's going on here?"
"Just doing business, ma'am," he said. "Or should I say, doctor?"
She didn't have time for this and was about to leave when the man reached behind his back and produced a rocket launcher.
"Where did you find that?" she said.
"I've had it in the inventory for a while," he said. "Seems not many people are up for the askin' price."
"Oh? And what price that?"
The merchant took from his coat pocket a tiny silver bell, that he tossed onto the bed where it rang loud and clear. Nothing happened for several moments and Annette was about to ask what the meaning of this was when a door she hadn't seen on the other side of the bed flew open. In rushed a behemoth of a man, all rippling muscles bound in tight leather and steel. He let out a grunting scream and slashed the bed to shreds with the steel sword-claws strapped to his arms. His long, dark cock bounced merrily between his legs.
"He got a bit wound up earlier, it seems," said the man. "Calm 'im down for the cameras and this is all yours."
She remembered reading a report on the garrador, knew it was blind, stupid, and capable of tearing a score of ganado to pieces, even without six long blades strapped to its powerful arms. Her eyes went between the raging garrador and the rocket launcher, her mind between what she had to do and what her only options were.
She took off her coat, her shirt, spit on her hands and rubbed them together. "Very well," she said. "I've had worse."
She was thinking of William when she went behind the garrador. There was its plaga, bulging like an infested growth from between its shoulder blades. It was almost cute compared to what her husband had become in the end. She ignored it and reached around the garrador's waist, took hold of its enormous shaft. It bellowed like an enraged bull, but stood stock still as she stroked it up and down. She held it like that for a minute, then slipped around in front of it. She'd milk the creature like a barn animal, let it shoot on the ruined bed for the cameras and be done with it. It was but one member, she could handle it easily. William had given her so many, she'd pleased them all, with every part of her body several times over.
The garrador grunted, reminding her to keep her attention in the present. It was hard though, when she took the head into her mouth, remembering all the shapes and sizes he'd gagged her with. The stuff he'd pumped into her had been nourishing, invigorating. She'd been kept awake for days, his secretions generating a rapid healing response in her body, letting her take more of him.
Another deep grunt. Annette's attention returned to reality just as she felt the shaft bulge in her hand, saw the head open up.