She’s fast, but one scratch is all it takes

The mites fidget behind their cover, waiting for Urko’s signal. Patience isn’t in their nature, but cowardice is; they don’t want to attack unless their leader is with them. In Urko’s hand, the fairy lance glitters with soporific magic. That’s all he needs to win this fight. With the right timing…

Now.

At his order, the air is full of crashing branches and shrill cries. Mites psyching themselves up, turning fear into rage. The beetles and centipedes and spiders, the gang’s hunting hounds, spring forward as well, their many legs skittering.

As the tiny bright spark of the sprite soars upward, the tiefling reacts. Across the clearing, half the gang and their verminous cohorts are stopped in their tracks – spiderweb coiling from empty air to trap them. But Urko, by sheer luck, is coming in from the other side. There’s an opening.

The other mites throw themselves at their prey. Some with weapons ready, most empty-handed. Screeching to cast forth their fear-hex. Urko hangs back to observe the first few being hurled aside; the fiendish magic on display scares him. But sheer numbers are tipping the scales. The prey stumbles, falls, landing heavily in the dirt, half a dozen mites on top of her.

The chance is now. Blood thundering in his ears, Urko throws himself into the melee, gripping the lance. The girl becomes aware of him – he sees her eyes widen at the sight of him, in surprise and disgust, but still burning with the will to fight. She reaches out to catch his arm – just too late to stop the tip of the lance from grazing her side.

He gets to see the momentary change in her expression – from fierce determination to confusion, fear. Her faltering hand reaches to grab the lance from him, missing by a mile. Then, her eyelids flutter closed and – open-mouthed, limp – her curvy body topples to the ground. Her chest still heaves with heavy breaths from her exertions, but otherwise she lies still.

Urko’s tiny black heart thunders with triumph as he pounces on her, scrabbling at her clothes. The white gossamer mesh doesn’t tear the way he expected, but stretches until he’s able to pull her black top down, her oversized tits spilling out into view. Her marble-white skin shines with perspiration as the big orbs gently rise and fall. Urko wishes he had a sharper weapon to cut and slash the rest of her clothes to ribbons, but it doesn’t matter – she’ll be asleep more than long enough for him to have his fun.

The other mites keep back. Even at its height, their lust loses out to fear of Urko’s superior strength and viciousness. He has the girl all to himself.

Doom increases to 3