How best to multitask.

Terrified squeals, whooping laughter, jaunty music, grunts and groans of coupling, and your furious blood pumping, thunders in your ears as you endure the leers and piteous stares on your way to Kiv and his friends. "Ms. Selas, my friends. Stoz and Gher. The best of friends. The best," he begins, turning to address them while standing next to you, presenting you like the catch of the day.

They eye you up and down, and you have to suppress another shudder, while they raise a goblet to him, and to you in greeting. Reaching behind him, Gher, the white-haired one with a broken horn, grabs the vase and fills up a couple of spare goblets, before handing one over to you. "Well met, Ms. Selas," he smiles, not letting go of the goblet, even though you've already taken it. "Tell me, how the bastard convince you to come with us?"

The double meaning he's trying so hard to not let slip does not escape you. With a bit more strength, you manage to pull the goblet away from him and bring it up to your face. Immediately, your nose tells you that either the wine or your goblet has been tainted with an aphrodisiac and a strength numbing reagent. Fucking rapists. You think to yourself, before taking a tiny sip, and letting your magic analyze the reagents. "Oh you know," you reply, forcing a pleasant tone, "we got to talking, and he said that we'd all have a very nice time together. And you know what they say," you lift your goblet, and give them a sly smile, "The More the Merrier."

Grinning and chuckling amongst themselves, the three satyrs toast to having a good time and down their drink quickly, but you can tell that all of them are keeping an eye on you, watching you. Hoping that your body has come up with a countermeasure, or at least the beginnings of one, you take a big swig of the wine. "Whoo! that's some strong stuff," you cough slightly, before holding your goblet out for a refill. Smiling wide, Gher starts pouring the wine freely. The satyrs begin to talk and joke with each other, while constantly making sure your goblet is full. You take the occasional mouthful from time to time, getting a little buzzed from, what you hope is just the alcohol, and adding to the conversation when necessary, but giving them absolutely nothing that they could exploit.

All the while, the back of your mind is working like a machine. Your contract is peeking out of Kiv's pocket, taunting you. The pained wails of the females here tugs at your black heart. The feel of the wandering, groping fingers of your drinking buddies makes you want to puke. And the fountain in the middle of the garden, spewing out it's corrupted piss water, the thing that lets these disgusting creatures have their way with their victims, makes your blood boil. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the receptionist limping her way towards you, enduring the ass slaps of the satyrs along the way.

Keeping up appearances, you retreat into your mind and brood. How are you going to bring this place crashing down on their ears in as few moves as possible, while also making sure you get what you want? Preferably without needing to bend over first.

You may be a succubus, but even you have standards.