“So,” Quinn ribbed Sandra, smirking all the while they walked down the mountain, towards the way they’d come in. “Care to share with the group how you’re feeling?”

Sandra groaned, shifting in the intricate shibari restraints wrapped around her. “I’m sure the curse of this artifact is random, I have no idea why it’s ropes. Just like all the other curses–unless you want to tell me that you secretly always wanted frilly pink armor and a puffy diaper.”

“My frilly pink armor doesn’t make my voice flutter or my tail wag, and the diaper’s just here for a few hours,” Quinn grinned, shifting slightly from foot to foot. “You, on the other hand–I’m pretty sure your pitch jumped a whole octave once that thing kicked in.”

Looking down at herself, Sandra inspected the ropes that bound her body. She could walk, barely–her thighs were bound together by intricate shibari knots, and even her newfound tail had ropes around it, pinning it to her back, but it had enough slack that the visible wag from side to side could still be noticed clearly, and she could bend her knees and still shuffle along at a moderate pace. More problematically, the ropes knotted between her breasts and over her chest kept her arms stuck to her side. The relic cuff dangled from her wrist, and she could feel magic woven into the ropes that’d prevent any supernatural attempt to remove them.

The only way these ropes were coming off was if she shackled someone else to the curse.

“Just…shut up,” Sandra grumbled, wishing the tight, snug feel of the coarse rope around her skin didn’t make her blush with every step. “It’s not that I’m–it’s magic. Obviously. You can tell it’s messing with me, right?”

Hadrian and Tarja exchanged a glance, while Quinn just sniggered at her paltry defense.

Sandra may not have been an out-and-out wizard, but she did have a fair knack for magic. Focusing on herself, she concentrated, saying aloud, “I’ll prove it with a spell–whatever magical compulsion’s affecting me, I can root it out.”

“So you are horny for the ropes,” Quinn commented, noting her tacit admission.

She ignored him, focusing on the Detect Charm spell. With just a little effort, she looked around for compulsions, and…

Nothing. Not even the littlest bit of influence lay over her mind.

“Um…” she said, her blush deepening as a bout of arousal washed over her. “It’s…”

“Hah!” Quinn barked out a triumphant laugh. “No compulsion, right? You just like being a bunny.”

At Hadrian’s raised eyebrow, Sandra sheepishly admitted, “A ‘Rope Bunny’ is someone who gets tied up for…yeah. How do you know that?”

Quinn just shrugged. “Sisters. Lots of ‘em.”

Rallying her remaining scraps of dignity, Sandra changed the subject. “We should be keeping an eye out for danger, not cracking jokes–it’s a long walk back to the house with the toy chest inside, and plenty of dangers lie between us and it.”

“Remind me why we can’t just use the magic rock the priest gave you right here?” Tarja asked, walking almost as unsteadily as Sandra. Quinn held her hand, guiding her safely down the path since her legs were so unsteady–the curse from her onesie had only grown worse, and she could barely walk without aid now.

“The gemstone’s a tether to our home plane, but it’s not all powerful,” Hadrian explained, breathing heavily as they hiked down the mountain. “The reason we traveled to the next town over and built a particular circle was so the metaphysical energy on our side would match the energy in that toy chest. If we try to open the way back home from here, most likely scenario: The gemstone just breaks because the energy on this hill is too scattered and the magic isn’t strong enough to punch through. Or, if we’re particularly unlucky, we’d get dropped back into our home plane somewhere way far from home. Like in a volcano.”

“That all seems convoluted,” Tarja commented. “There wasn’t just a spell that you could use to jump from one plane to another directly?”

“Oh, sure there is,” Hadrian said. “And if I had another couple decades of practice and experience, I might be skilled enough to try it. There’s maybe a thousand people in the world who can do magic that difficult.”

Tarja frowned and held up a hand, stopping the party’s progress. “Wait…”

The party obeyed, trusting her judgment. Sandra surveyed the foothill ahead of them–the lightly grown over mountain gave way to thicker trees to one side, towards the low ridge they’d come in, while a sheer drop to the left gave way to the deep valley below.

“Hag,” Tarja whispered. “Up ahead. I think she cut off our path back.”

Sandra pursed her lips, then felt a jolt of sensation run through her as the ropes tightened, woven silk threads brushing over her breasts and nipples. Under her breath, she whispered, “Fuck…”

“We’ll get past this,” Hadrian assured her.

Quinn just smirked, giving Sandra a knowing, ‘I’ll-tease-you-about-this-later’ look.

“We’ll have to go around,” Sandra announced in a low tone, shifting to look at the dropoff down towards the valley. “With climbing gear, we can move along the cliff face until we get past the hag, then climb back up and get past it. This looks like very climbable terrain.”

Tarja pursed her lips. “How do you plan on climbing? I could manage it for a little while, but–”

“You’ll need to lower me on a rope,” Sandra said, turning her neck and gesturing towards her bag with her chin. “Fortunately, we should be able to tie to, um…to my harness pretty easily. It’ll distribute my weight well.”

“You’re the expert,” Quinn beamed, walking over and opening her pack to take out the rope and climbing spikes.

“Maybe I should take the relic, since you’re the climbing whiz,” Hadrian suggested. “Cuff it to me, and drag me around.”

The suggestion had merit, but Sandra didn’t want to sacrifice a friend’s safety to improve her own. “It’s fine, I’ll hold it. We’ll be slower, but…” A shriek echoed through the forest, and her mind changed. “Okay, fine. Let’s just get out of here.”

Hadrian stepped over to her, grabbed the other side of the artifact, and snapped it tightly around his wrist. It locked, and the other side fell free of Sandra–the ropes binding her lost their magic, but they didn’t simply vanish, meaning she’d still have to be untied.

For his part, Hadrian dropped to his knees, gasping with sudden pleasure. Sandra could barely spare a glance his way, too busy conjuring an umbral knife in her clenched hand to begin cutting herself free, but she saw a spectral form…”assaulting” him.

“Quinn, a little help?” she asked, slicing through one of the ropes on her arm.

The half-orc barbarian, distracted by the show, jumped in and helped clear the arms from her body, quipping in Hadrian’s direction. “I knew you had a type, but wow!”

Hadrian started on an annoyed retort, but the words choked in his throat as the ghostly half-corporeal being put its mouth around his…well, Sandra couldn’t see what it was doing, but its tongue passed through his latex bodysuit and diaper as though they weren’t there, and by his gasps, he could feel it beneath all the layers.

A few feet tall, stacked, and thicker than a bowl of oatmeal, the ghostly apparition currently performing cunnilingus on their mage had a certain resemblance to a priest of Calistria they all knew.

Free of the ropes, Sandra turned to face the cliffside, calculating the best place to jump down. She’d been hoping Hadrian would be bound by the same ropes she had–both because it’d give her a convenient excuse to dodge Quinn’s teasing, and because it would serve as a solid attachment point for the ropes, but now she was going to have to find a way to climb down with him, too.

Struck by an insight, she gestured to their right, where the cliff face turned steeply up. “Quinn, get us tied off up there.” With a burst of simple magic, she conjured a basic object–just a loose stone berm that rope could be secured to.

He hesitated, shifting his weight anxiously. “Shouldn’t we go lower, not higher?”

“Just do it,” Sandra snapped. “No time.”

Quinn’s objection was solid–they’d just be buying more distance to climb, more effort expended, more time–but she didn’t have time to explain her intuition. Pulling the rope from her bag, she did the math.

There wasn’t enough to climb down all the way. There wasn’t even time to tie everyone up properly. They’d have to move down a little, use their climbing spikes to move the attachment point, and creep down the cliffside. It’d take all day, but it was safer than facing off against a hag who could defeat their whole party with a thought.

“We’ll have to keep these simple,” she said aloud, channeling all her reserves of magic into the rope so that it began to move. “Safety harnesses. If you fall, you might get some bruising–nothing I can do about that, so sorry in advance.”

“Just get it done,” Tarja said, raising her shaky arms, allowing the animated rope to snake around her body into a secure, if simple, harness. “I’m a strong climber when I’m…y’know. In control. Once it’s time to climb, I’ll steady myself. ”

She’ll wet herself, Sandra translated in her head, remembering the effects of the cursed onesie. She was starting to have trouble tracking everyone’s various afflictions–Quinn was mostly well off, save for his armor and breasts and the temporary diaper, and the fact that for the duration of their time in this plane he seemed to be shrunk–but Tarja was dealing with a whole pack of curses, and Quinn had his unchangeable latex bodysuit, heels, diaper, his bits had been swapped around, and probably another thing she couldn’t remember at the moment.

“Hadrian, can you concentrate well enough to cast a spell?” she asked, not looking up from her work.

“Uh…uh-huh,” he mumbled.

“Tell me you’ve got a feather fall ready,” she said. “I don’t want to burn through your magic if we don’t have to, but if this goes sideways, we’ll need you as a backup.”

“Ye-” he gasped mid-affirmation, back arching in pleasure. “Ff-fuck! Yes, yes, yes–”

Sandra assumed that his first ‘yes’ was for the important thing–that he had the spell ready–and dismissed the rest as magically induced pleasure.

Another shriek echoed through the woods, much closer this time. The hag stalked them, moving in with every moment, watching for the best opening to strike. Not that it needed one–they’d lose in any battle, no matter how many advantages they built, but the hag couldn’t know if they were playing possum or not.

Tossing the rope to Quinn so it could wind itself around him, she felt grateful he’d been shrunk. As small as he was, it wouldn’t take much rope to hold him, and he’d weigh a whole lot less while climbing down.

“We’re running out of time,” Tarja said, tone calm, expression terrified as she gazed into the woods.

“We’ll be fine,” Sandra assured her, commanding the rope to loop around herself, far faster than if she tied it the old fashioned way.

Tarja nodded, but her eyes were pools of fear. “Do you know what happens to your soul if a dreamthief hag kills you?”

“We’re secure!” Quinn called, looping the other end of the rope off around a tree stump.

That just left Hadrian, and Sandra took the excuse not to answer Tarja’s question. She knew the answer, and it wasn’t pretty.

“Arms up,” she told Hadrian, who was trying desperately to focus in spite of, not only the first spectral cunnilinguist, but a second shortstack now sitting over his shoulders, riding his own mouth.

He moaned, blushed, and pulled his face away long enough to say, “I can–oh gods–I can fight…”

“Sure, just stay with me,” Sandra said, ignoring how his back tensed and arched as she prepared him for the descent.

Something still nagged at her. A small detail she’d forgotten in the frantic stream of consciousness over the past few minutes.

“There she is,” Tarja said, glancing at Sandra. “No time. We’ve got to go.”

Sandra nodded, while Quinn ran over the rope, so she could secure everyone. It was a truly terrible system, cobbled together without any of the safeties she’d like–ideally, she’d want a strand of rope for each climber–but in the time they had, it was the best she could do. Hadrian was their backup, ready to cast feather fall should the ropes fall through.

“On my count, jump.” Sandra didn’t glance back at the shrieking beast barrelling down upon them, she just prepared herself. “Three–”

“One!” Tarja interjected, running forward in terror. She had perfect balance–she’d wet herself to regain control, or perhaps she’d simply wet herself in terror.

And, since they were tied together, if one went they all went. The rest of the party caught up and ran with her, jumping over the edge of the cliff. They dropped, fell, and the rope snapped taut. Sandra felt the rope dig into her skin with bruising force, but they’d made it out of easy striking range.

“Okay, okay,” she panted. “As long as the hag doesn’t cut–”

“Don’t say it,” Quinn interjected. “Remember what happens when you say it?”

Sandra did, and she didn’t finish her ominous statement.

The hag cut the rope anyway.

Dropping, suddenly, the party began to fall down the length of the cliff. Sandra waited for Hadrian to use his magic, to levitate the party safely down to the ground, but no spell came.

Spinning in the air as they flew downward, she saw her other party members. Tarja, more afraid of the monster that lied above than the impact that approached below. Quinn, his dress billowing like a parasol as he plummeted. And Hadrian, confused and horny and helpless…

With his gods-damned pacifier in his mouth.

“That’s what I forg–” Sandra started to exclaim, before she hit the ground and blacked out.

…

Dreams within dreams were a strange thing.

It was already odd enough that, as an elf, she dreamt. It was even more odd to dream while her physical body resided in a dream plane. Her mind wandered past the normal realms of unconscious imagination, into further, deeper places.

Sandra didn’t remember much after she awoke, but she did recall one detail from her somnambulation through a distant plane.

She’d been noticed.

…

Sandra’s eyes snapped open and she tried to sit up.

She couldn’t.

Her initial reaction was fear–she’d been paralyzed by the fall. As she tried to move, though, she realized she’d gotten it wrong–she wasn’t unable to control her body, she was stuck. Looking up, she saw the layers of tree branches and vines she’d fallen through, and glancing to the side with her eyes, she saw a wide pool of thin, sticky slime. It had the consistency of a glue trap, adhering her to the forest floor. It, fortunately, didn’t seem that deep–they didn’t have to worry about sinking, just being stuck.

“Sound off,” she said, trying–and failing–to peel herself up. “Everyone ok?”

“Mmm-phuu,” Hadrian moaned through his pacifier.

“Ugh…” Quinn groaned. “Ouch.”

“Alright here,” Tarja said. Her voice came from up higher, and Sandra glanced with her eyes to see the ranger hanging from a group of vines that had caught her mid-fall.

Wrinkling her nose, Sandra caught the whiff of a dirty diaper. With a shimmy of her butt and a wiggle of her dragon tail, she confirmed it wasn’t her.

“We need to get out of here. Can anyone move?”

“Mm-bughh,” Hadrian mewled. Sandra could hear the sloppy sex sounds coming from his direction, though thankfully he wasn’t in her eyeline so she didn’t have to watch.

“What is this stuff?” Quinn asked. “I can barely move.”

“I’m guessing someone in the real world has a, uh, thing for restrained movement,” Sandra said.

“Here,” Tarja suggested. “If I hang down, I can probably give you a hand without being stuck mys–woah!”

She yelped as one of the vines moved, suddenly, wrapping itself around her ankle. In a quick movement, she pulled out her knife and slashed the vine, falling free–and, with her natural grace returned, she managed to land on her feet.

Sandra was briefly worried that Tarja would be as stuck as the rest of them, but since it was only Tarja’s shoes, she had a lot less surface area stuck, and a lot more room to move. With a bit of effort, she managed to pry one of her feet free and take a step towards Sandra.

“Get everyone else up first,” Sandra said. “Hadrian’s probably going to need escorted free, but he might have a spell once he can take out that pacifier.”

In response, Hadrian moaned with pleasure, in the midst of his dozenth orgasm in as many minutes.

Nodding, Tarja moved to obey. Crouching, cautious so as not to get herself stuck, she crouched to help up Hadrian.

He was in luck–the latex material of his clothing was relatively anti-stick. It still took a little prying, but he got free without the need for grease, and staggered out of the slime pit with Tarja’s help. She pulled out his pacifier, and he exhaled with relief.

“F-fuck,” he grunted. “I’ve got one grease spell ready, but that’s about it for my magic…uhh…”

“Just cast it,” Sandra said. “Get Quinn out.”

Concentrating, it took him a couple tries to focus through the mid-coital bliss, but he managed to get off his little bit of magic Quinn’s way. With Quinn’s body and frilly pink armor fully lubricated, he managed to pry himself up from the slime and get to his feet.

And then the vines dropped.

Sandra could only watch–literally, there was nothing else she could do but lay there and observe the vines lower towards Quinn, moving to snatch him up. He found himself towed up from the ground, vines wrapping around his body and tying him in place in the sky.

He roared, slipping out of the vines and fighting to get free, using his teeth more than anything in an attempt to fight off the vines. “Get–” he shouted, in between chomping on a vine. “Get Sandra! I’ll hold them off!”

Tarja moved as fast as she could to Sandra’s side, and tried to help her up.

No dice. Her clothes were firmly rooted to the slime, and the pores in the leather and fabric had soaked it up, adhering her firmly down.

“You’re…” Tarja said. “I think we have to–”

“Just do it,” Sandra said, sighing in annoyance.

Retrieving her knife, Tarja started at the top and began working her way down. With all the slime pinning Sandra’s clothes down, there was only one way to get her free–her clothes would have to go.

Parts of the armor could be removed just with straps, but her shirt and pants needed the knife. Tarja worked as quickly as she could, slicing through until Sandra could sit up and get free.

And, unfortunately, that left Sandra nearly-naked save for her slightly sagging diaper.

That could have come off, too, but it’d just return, and a little bit of clothing was better than total nudity. At least she could keep her magical boots and a few other sundry accessories, even if she was effectively nude from the waist up.

More unfortunate was the need to cut her hair–she wasn’t particularly image conscious, especially not now that she’d grown used to the routine of regular outfit-centered humiliation, but she’d be visiting an alchemist to get that fixed when she could.

Standing, she started formulating a plan to free Quinn–”Waah!” she exclaimed in alarm, as a vine grabbed her by the ankle and towed her up above the trees.

The vines were better than rope. They moved, and over her naked body there was nothing between her and the tight, clinging plant that crept over her skin, trussing her up in an instant. She initially struggled, but she’d been caught unawares, and a little part of her wanted to give in.

No! She snapped at herself. Not the time!

But still–as the vines tied themselves around her exposed breasts and wound her up, and as they pulled her legs apart and bound her hands to her feet, the surge of humiliated pleasure that washed over her battled against her urge to free herself and fight.

And then the vines found their way beneath her diaper, creeping in, and Sandra felt a little moan escape her lips and felt her tail wag excitedly–

WHOOSH!

The fireball that landed above her burned through the vines in an instant. All but one of the vines lost her, and only one, tied loosely around her ankle, still held sway–she fell, but was caught short before landing in the slime again, and the other vines went slack around her body.

Hadrian stood at the edge of the slime pit, no longer cuffed, extending his hand. “Sorry it took a minute!” he called. “I had to be sure my aim was perfect. Can you swing over here?”

“Thanks,” Sandra said, thinking furiously, You couldn’t have waited another thirty seconds?

Shifting her weight back and forth, she swung on the one vine until she could grab his hand, then kicked her leg free and fell to the ground. Without her armor, she felt exposed in the dangerous forest, but as least she was out of immediate danger.

Quinn landed next to her a second later, dusting himself off. “Where’s Tarja?”

“She took the cuff,” Hadrian said, pointing to the large tree next to them. “Then sat down out of the line of fire.”

Sandra stepped around, admittedly curious about what, exactly, Tarja would be experiencing. She was reserved, and didn’t really talk about her kinks, so…

She lay against the tree, mouth open and face intensely relaxed, while spectral hands worked around her. From the motion, it looked like they were…patting her head.

Two hands massaged her back, while another set of spectral arms wrapped around her body in a hug. Two illusory hands were squeezing her own, and the hands on her head moved between gentle pats and a scalp massage while other ghostly fingers caressed the rest of her body.

She looked…cozy.

“That’s my girl,” Quinn commented with a smile.

Now that they were safe, Sandra finally took a moment to inspect their surroundings. Off just to the right of the swamp was a stony open area, with large, sharp looking rocks. Doing the math in her head, Sandra realized that if they’d gone with Quinn’s suggestion of climbing down from a lower point on the cliff, they’d have fallen onto lethal rocks instead of fall-breaking vines and goo.

“Huh,” Hadrian said.

“I know,” Sandra said. “It was just an instinct–”

“No, I mean, I thought you were the one who needed a change,” Hadrian said. Glancing back, Sandra saw that he was looking at her diaper. “But you look pretty clean.”

“It’s not you?” she asked, sniffing the air. There was a definite odor of a messy diaper.

“Might be the swamp,” Quinn suggested, quickly. “A lot of earthy smells… Just a guess.”

“It’s not important,” Hadrian said. “We need to find a new way out of here. We’re not getting back to that nursery from down at the base of this cliff, and that hag’s still up there even if we climbed up.”

Sandra considered for a moment, crossing her arms over her chest. She turned, slowly, following an imagined compass in her head until she knew where to go. “It’s…this way.”

“How do you know?” Quinn asked.

“Just like I knew where to put the rope,” she said. “My instincts.”

“Well, someone’s end stinks,” Quinn quipped. “But you’re both pretending it’s not you.”

Sandra rolled her eyes and started marching.

Paralyzed by melting comfort, Tarja couldn’t really move herself–all the gentle affection had her drooling in a comfortable puddle, and Quinn had to pick her up and carry her in his arms–which was a sight to see, given that she was now almost twice his height. Hadrian took up the rear, watching for any further trouble.

The woods were deep, and full of uncomfortably horny sounds. Every breeze sounded like a moan, every rustle sounded like a crinkling diaper. Sandra knew where to go to avoid traps and other dangers, but she only had vague clues of what exactly she’d been avoiding. Frustrated after the bondage vines had been cut short, she almost wanted to find another similar trap to finish herself off–but knew that was a bad idea.

Finally, after much hiking, she found the mouth of…a cave. The stone seemed to have been pulled back in folding layers, exposing a teardrop shaped opening with a glittering gemstone at its peak.

“Is it just me?” Quinn said.

“It’s not,” Hadrian replied. “That cave looks like a vagina.”

“A vulva, strictly speaking,” Tarja considered.

“It’s where we need to be,” Sandra said. “It’s…I think it has the right energy for you to make it work, Hadrian.”

They penetrated the chasm, walking in with a bit of light from Hadrian’s familiar. It seemed to dip down a little, then raise back up, bending towards the core of the mountain. As they pushed deeper, the light revealed many dripping crystalline stalactites and sodden stalagmites, hanging from the ceiling and dribbling a white, viscous fluid down into puddles and columns on the ground.

Based on the slightly sanitized smell, Sandra guessed that the fluid dripping from the extremely phallic stalactites wasn’t water. The whole cave glimmered with white puddles and shimmering natural crystals.

“More like stalactits, am I right?” Quinn smirked.

Hadrian focused for a moment. “This’ll do,” he said. “Just give me a few minutes to set up the magic. I want to make sure everything’s pitch perfect, we can’t risk breaking the crystal.”

“I’ll guard the entrance,” Quinn suggested, setting Tarja down in a safe spot. “While you get the magic ready.” He turned, marching back to the cave’s mouth, sidestepping a particularly large puddle on his way.

Sandra breathed a sigh of relief. They were almost home, and little was left that could do them any harm.

Hadrian used the components in his pouch to set up a circle on the highest raised surface in the cave. He took his time, working slowly, making occasional thoughtful sounds. “Hmm.”

“Problem?” Sandra asked.

“It’s not a perfect match,” Hadrian replied. “It feels like it’ll get us home, but…I can’t promise we’ll end up where we want to be.”

“It will,” Sandra said. “Trust me.”

“If you say so. Go get Quinn, we’ll be ready soon.”

Sandra nodded, shuffling back towards the entrance of the cave. The gentle breeze on her naked body made her shiver, but they hadn’t packed extra clothes for the journey–it wasn’t supposed to be a long trip.

She heard grunts of effort as she got towards the entrance, and slowed down, silencing her footfalls. As she got close enough to see, she stifled a smirk.

Quinn had his skirts pulled up, and was struggling to remove his diaper–his clearly full, clearly sagging diaper. “Gods–stupid–come off!” he grunted, in annoyance.

“Aww,” Sandra said loudly. “Is someone having trouble?”

Turning a little pink, Quinn pulled down the skirts of his armor. “No!”

“‘I think we’re just smelling the forest!’” Sandra teased, loudly. “‘Could be anything!’ But it was just your diaper, wasn’t it?”

He frowned. “It’s supposed to come off once it’s been used,” he complained. “It’s been used! I don’t think I can even use it more, or it’ll leak, but–”

Sandra shrugged. “Maybe ‘Used fully’ means it has to leak,” she suggested. “Or maybe someone else has to change it. These curses usually have a ‘gotcha’ in them somewhere. You’ll get used to it.”

He frowned, and she giggled.

“Or maybe you’ll be the party’s new stinker, and it’ll distract from the rest of us!” she added. The teasing was, admittedly, juvenile, but he’d given her plenty of smart comments when she had the cuff on. She had reason to turn things around.

“Is Hadrian ready?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah,” Sandra replied. “Come on, we’ll get home and then worry about undoing whatever stuff happened to us in here.”

“Maybe a shirt would help,” Quinn suggested with a smirk, immediately erasing any guilt Sandra felt for teasing him back.

They started walking back into the cave, into the low dip before the rise. As they passed the threshold and began moving up, though…

Rumble…

Sandra felt something wet around her boots. Looking down, she saw the wet, slimy…fluids of the cave had begun to pool, and that the line was rising rapidly.

“Come on!” she said, running forward up the cave. The sticky white liquid quickly grew behind them, flooding the entrance and trapping them inside unless they wanted to go for a swim.

Sandra really, really didn’t want to go for a swim.

“Gotta go now!” she called, running up towards Hadrian’s circle.

“I still need a–” Hadrian started, turning to glance at her. As he saw the quickly flooding pool behind her, though, his eyes widened. “Okay, quickly. Everyone get into the circle. Rocky!”

He snapped at his familiar, who’d been wandering around the cave in no particular direction until now. It quickly shuffled in, clinging to Hadrian’s leg while he held the magic at the ready.

Quinn ran to Tarja’s side, shaking her, but she was still lost in an affectionate pool. He instead hefted her, carrying her towards the circle, hopping out of a quickly growing puddle to get there.

“Okay, just stand in a circle, hold hands, and…uh…” he hesitated, looking at Tarja. Both her hands were already held by ghostly apparitions, manifested by the enchanted handcuff.

The cum line continued to rise, floating over the edge of the platform, and Sandra could see that they’d be drowning in less than a minute. It was already up past their ankles, then their knees, flooding in from nowhere.

Spotting the problem with Tarja’s hands a second later, Quinn moved to act, snapping the cuff onto his wrist.

Immediately, Tarja fell out of the magic and the cuff fell off her. With her hands free, Sandra grabbed one, and Hadrian the other, while the cuffs began working on Quinn. He had his hands free, at least, and they formed a circle, letting the magic take them–

Sandra blinked as they all fell in a heap on the ground, splashing in a puddle of the cave’s fluids that had come with them. Herself, largely naked save for the prominent diaper and sticky gods-I-hope-this-isn’t-cum that had soaked over her body. Tarja, half-focused, still recovering from the puddle of affection she’d melted into, Hadrian in his latex bodysuit, weren’t much cleaner than she was.

And Quinn, who was very obviously being fucked in every available hole by a conjured being made entirely of tentacles, climbing over his body, pulling up his skirt, working their way into his filthy diaper.

Sandra blinked, glancing around.

They’d made it back to their plane, but instead of landing in the circle at the Calistrian temple, they’d landed in another church altogether.

And, by the densely packed crowd all around them, the party had landed in the middle of their weekly service.