The ride down in the elevator started nice and quiet. It was pretty big and came with none of the mechanical noises elevators usually did, as it hovered between magically pulling plates rather than being on a winding mechanism. However, once they passed the base floor and began their descend into the underground, the bass finally arrived.

They had passed an invisible barrier, and now the elevator trembled under the repeated, electronic drum-kicks and heavy beats. The rest of whatever song was currently running was still unheard, but it was clear that they were about to enter Rave’s preferred habitat. The techno-lover was already tapping her left foot on the floor and wiggling her butt in a slight but nevertheless hypnotic fashion. It really didn’t help that she was wearing skin-tight, blue jeans and a cropped, multi-coloured top that revealed her sexy back and midriff.

John tried to look somewhere else to not get an erection, but then there was Eliza in her basically-underwear outfit (she had left the robe and scarf upstairs). Right next to that was Metra, who also hated clothing with a passion and thus just wore hot-pants and something that was more sports-bra than shirt. Sylph, big form, in her leotard also wasn’t exactly modest about her curves. Nia may have been the best in her plain whiteness, but she was still attached to John, pressing her breasts against his arm and looking up to him with her discomforting blank puppy eyes.

‘I must be insane to find that attractive,’ John thought as he felt part of his sub-consciousness scream at him that he should shove Nia off and take a good few metres distance from her. Of course, he wouldn’t do that, but the fact of the matter was that she was supernaturally weird. Totally in his range of wants though.

The last person in the elevator was Salamander, who hid her crotch and giant tits behind a bit of fire and otherwise only wore coal coloured bindings on her wrists and ankles. Her flame framed fantastic funbags weren’t the greatest place to look in the current situation either, as the goal was to NOT get an erection. It was a failed project by now anyway; his pants had already turned into a rather obvious tent. As it stood (it being his dick), he might as well excuse himself and get back up to their room to have the girls who stayed upstairs take care of this.

He opened his mouth just in time to see Rave turn around with one eye closed and a cheeky smile on her lips, “Don’t worry, they have quickie rooms down here.” At that moment the door swung open, and John was greeted by… a rather nice room with lots of people chatting.

The dulled beats were now accompanied by the faint traces of melody. They were in some sort of lobby, couches with the kind of artificial leather surface that was easily wiped off were filled with people chatting in small groups. It was big enough to accommodate about fifty people, which actually put a question on the forefront of John’s mind that he had been ignoring so far.

“How big is this place?” he asked while trying to ignore all the people looking at the bulge in his pants. It caused some envious looks at his girls by the women and then some angry glares by the men who suddenly got competition they couldn’t beat, at least in size. As someone who used to be on the small size, John felt with them, but the erection was as it was: big.

“They say it can fit up to 1500 people at once,” Rave informed him, “between the big dancing area and the pub and the metal stage and the little strip club and everything.” John was about to ask what all of the meant when he spied an actual floor plan hanging from the wall.

True enough, this thing reached about as deep as it was tall and spread even further. ‘Okay, how the hell does this even work,’ John thought as he looked over all the locations on that map. There were three big areas, two of them techno, the third one rock and metal, acclaimed to hold up to 400 people each, and lots of medium or minor floors or rooms where people could chill out or do something else. ‘How do they supply all of these rooms? No, wait, where is even the place for all of this? No, wait, how did they ventilate this place? No, wait, this city has about eighty thousand people living inside it, so 1500, provided they all visit daily, would mean that almost 2% of the entire city hang around in this club every night. No, wait,..’

He was ripped out of his thoughts by a light punch to his shoulder. Turning to see his girlfriend stick out her pierced tongue, he heard her say, “Ya look like there are a bunch of stupid questions going through your head; lemme answer them for you, tiger,” she listed them while doing that counting gesture where it looked like one was pulling forwards a finger with the index of the other hand, “Magic, magic, magic, tourism, okay?”

Those were fitting and in the right order, “How did you… no, wait, you already conquered my heart, so you being in my head isn’t that weird.”

“Glad we are on the same page there. We gonna take that way, by the way,” Rave said and pointed at one of the numerous ungated walkways that connected this room with the rest of the facility. Atop its walls, covered in plaster that was put on there in these weird rough swirl patterns that people other than John seemed to find artistic, was what looked like a sign to follow to the toilets at first but on second glance was a rather obvious depiction of a couple fucking. Genders were kept rather vague, but still.

“Come on, before you soak your pants in pre-cum, ya perv,” she laughed and grabbed him by the hand. John saw someone openly staring on his girl’s ass as she did that. A lot of people openly stared at his girls. He was pulled between being angry at them and basking in their jealousy. The decision to go with the latter had fallen before the sight was blocked by the wall. After all, they would never have what he had, and he had worked pretty hard to get this. If they wanted to try and do as he did, they maybe would do a good thing or two for the world.

That aside, he believed that none of his girls would cheat on him, and they could all defend themselves if someone got touchy. They were literal superpowered mages, martial artists and anti-mages.

They walked through the hallways, past different rooms, all of the entrances doorless frames through which the music only echoed dully (a hurray for magic sound dampeners), and John couldn’t help but think that this whole structure was like a labyrinth of loud music and sexual lovemaking. Not just once they passed a couple that hadn’t quite managed, in a drug induced rush, to go all the way to these ‘quickie rooms’ and were just doing it on the next best sofa they found.

Suddenly the rough walls made some sense. Most women would have wanted to not feel spikes in her back with every thrust against the wall, thus the fuckable spots were wherever they had a bit more room. There was also pretty little movement in these hallways, then again, they weren’t even close to the main rooms; it was probably a lot worse there. Either that or the convoluted structure of the club kept every hallway from being used too much at every point.

“Shit-cocking cucks and fuckers of decayed fecal matter, I need to get somewhere where the fucking ceiling is higher and the walls aren’t EVERYWHERE!” Eliza announced all of a sudden. Quickly, John checked her status, a steady pulse of shame finally taking priority over his lust. Eyes darting from one wall to another, the blood mage’s breathing was not only quick but rather audible. She didn’t have a panic attack, not yet, but she clearly did not like it here.

John felt like slapping himself and also rather proud of Eliza that she wasn’t about to demolish the ceiling in an attempt the claw herself to freedom.

It was an arm of pale red skin that wrapped around Eliza’s shoulders and pressed her head right into the grabber’s breasts. “Do these puppies distract you, you fucking problem-kid?” Salamander asked.

“You aren’t burning her face right now, are you?” John asked, pretty worried as the flame bra had not been turned off.

“Do you seriously think I play with fire all day and don’t learn the faintest thing about it? I can do that much by now!” the blaze elemental angrily complained. A darting flame that exploded out of her fire red hair and burned a bit into the ceiling seemed to prove her wrong. “…I meant to do that!” she said and then quickly changed topics; “Anyway, you better down there?”

“Yes and fuck no,” Eliza’s voice muffled through Salamander’s cleavage. “It’s really soft, and I kind of want to die between these oversized meatbags, but I am also getting really fucking jealous right about now.”

“Ah, be quiet, ya have C’s, you are fine,” Rave told her; “Ya aren’t even in the lower area of the harem, you are in the middle and got a nice ass and great thighs.”

“Thank you?” Eliza sounded weirded out by the fact that she was getting complimented. John, in the meanwhile, looked as a piece of the floor developed a life on its own, crawled up the walls and then began to eat the ash while also replacing the badly damaged parts.

“Huh,” he said out loud after using Observe, “the floor is made out of domesticated slime.” He had just thought it was boring, flat concrete that nobody bothered to hide underneath a carpet. After informing everything else about his latest finding, he finished with, “Guess the Dutch found the slimes in their channels and went ‘going to breed this until it does what I want’.”

“So, we are surrounded by slime-poop?” Rave asked and suddenly looked way less into the place.

“That sounds disgusting until you remember that honey is bee vomit, eggs are unfertilized children and most sausage is packed inside rinsed pig innards,” John reminded his girlfriend, who just gave him an annoyed glance to let him know that he just ruined all of those things for her.

“Whatevs, still gonna get to that cell,” Rave said. “Ya two going back up or what?”

“A fucking second,” Eliza said, removed her head from its heated resting place, looked around for all of two seconds and then plunged her face back in. “No chance I am staying here at least, shit out of luck.”

“Great, going to drag you to place where there is more room then,” Salamander said and began to do exactly that. “If you want to contact us, just scream into my head, okay? But DON’T fucking DARE do it while there is an awesome song running.”

“Where are you going?” John wanted to know, just in case. It obviously wasn’t upstairs.

“Metal and rock stage, also taking this chatter bag with me,” Salamander said and grabbed Sylph, who was hovering under the ceiling and talking to the little piece of slime that was still doing its work on the ceiling like a little kid may talk to a grasshopper, by the foot, pulling her as if she was a balloon.

“Bye, bye, little grey, tell big grey that his name is not Neil but super-kami Neil and gather the mudballs for me, I need a new radio, yay, okay?” Sylph chirped her usual nonsense, although John thought he heard a DBZ Abridged reference there. The fact that Rave giggled only supported that theory.

At least his dick was below half-mast from all of this distraction. “You want to come with us?” Salamander asked Metra.

“Nah, I am going to check out this techno thing with my inspiration twin,” the berserker babe said and pointed at Rave. “Although I don’t understand why we don’t just do it on the spot.”

“Cause, Mat,” the techno-lover said, “I ain’t into exhib stuff.”

“Didn’t you upload nudes? How is that different?” Metra asked; she didn’t have that from John’s mental connection (theirs was still less than navigable beyond some basic feelings), but it was an open secret anyway. “Also: Mat?”

“I don’t need to hide these curves, girl, I just don’t want some random people to ogle me while I get the big D from my little J,” Rave said. “Not comfortable with, lines and all that.” If he had seen a window to jump into the conversation, John would have complained about that new nickname for himself. “Also Me-me is out cause that’s Momo’s nickname, and ya’re a fellow tomboy so ya get a tomboy name; I think Mat fits.”

“Do not get it. Seeing all the pathetic weasels watch me, wanting to have me but knowing that I will rip their hands off and challenge their patriarch to a duel to the death if they dare interfere, now THAT gets me running,” Metra grinned widely. “There was this one time when Sargon ordered me to climb on his throne and ride him before the whole court and the ambassador. Fuck, that was nice. ‘We don’t like muscled women,’ they said and then had their eyes glued to my abs.” She slapped her incredible midriff; not an inch of fat rippled. “Man, I used to be ripped then. Got toned down by your preference, Master.”

‘Why can nobody say that word with the proper reverence?’ Aclysia dropped a sudden one-liner in John’s head before retreating again. Anyway, now he was back to erection, as his eyes darted back and forth between his girlfriend’s and Metra’s midriff. Then he looked up and at the two of them. Why did they have to look like half-sisters, and why did he not have a threesome with them yet where they lay side by side?

Damned be the debauched chaos of orgies, he needed to rectify that post-haste. The trio led by Salamander was off by now, and that left him with Metra and Rave… wait, someone was missing from that list.

“Where is Nia?” he suddenly wondered and looked around. “Better question, when did she stop being by my side?”

“Uhm,” Rave looked lost, so they glanced over to Metra.

“Don’t ask me, she is a blank, they are pretty good at moving around unnoticed with everyone’s brain trying to suppress their existence and all that,” the ancient weapon shrugged it off.

“Ya don’t have a brain,” Rave pointed out.

“And you don’t have a smartass, but look at you go talking out of it,” the dirty blonde countered with an aggressive grin, “want me to smack it proper?”

“I have my smartass right there,” the lightbearer pointed out and at John.

“A horny smartass, can we finally get to these quickie rooms? I swear, we get bogged down in stupid talks like these whenever I want to go anywhere,” John complained and just prayed that Nia would turn up again before they wanted to leave tomorrow.

That was a problem for tomorrow though; his returned erection was one for now.