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A Sauceror gets a pet	By : SomeAuthor Category: +G through L > Kingdom of Loathing Views: 1974 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom of Loathing, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Sauceror gets a pet
- 1
Disclaimer: I own none of the stuff
already used by Asymmetric Productions, blah blah blah.

The Sauceror wasn't much to look at,
from first glance. She was clad in a fairly traditional robe of her
patron sauce—in her case, the fiery jalapeño. Her hair
was gathered into a simple brown ponytail that fell to her mid back,
though the ancient saucepan helmet she hid the top of her head. The
casual observer would note her slight build and deem her fairly weak.

While indeed the Sauceror had very
little muscle on her—barely enough muscle to handle her staff
correctly—this person would be surprised that this Sauceror had
not only the energetic eyes of a strong mysticality, but also the
quiet, confident smirk that would make her fit right in with a legion
of Disco Bandits and Accordion Thieves. This Sauceror had moxie, and
lots of it. It was a natural thing for her, it was what made life
fun for her, insulting her enemies, her lessers, in the heat of a
fight, breaking them in the ways that would make the best stories.

Today was a day she expected to get a
few more stories. The Sauceror poked at her map with her special
sauce glove. She was almost to the copse of the Deep Fat Friars.
Apparently some Hey Deze taint had taken root there. She'd had some
dealings with Hey Deze demons in the past, and she had no problem
with them, to be blunt; they were commonly very funny, and the ones
that weren't were fun to humiliate.

After speaking with the Deep Fat
Friars long enough to get the details on her mission, she strode off
into the darker parts of the forest to get the materials she needed.
A few hours of somewhat fruitless searching left the sauce master a
bit annoyed. She was about to sit down for a break when she heard a
quiet, unstable giggling. The Sauceror groaned, knowing immediately
what was coming. A G imp, a minor Hey Deze denizen with a domination
fetish. Normally, these imps would've been the Sauceror's favorite
enemies, but none of the pathetic wretches could ever really take the
pain the way they wanted to transmit. It was such a shame. The slim
woman puffed up her lungs and set herself, but even as prepared as
she was for the fight ahead, the G imp coming into her vision still
staggered her.

Most G imps were male, with varying
builds. The sauce master had seen anything from very muscular and
overall huge, to squat and fat. What she had not seen, however, was
female. The G imp in front of her wore the collar and tight leather
mask and leotard she had expected, but the wide curves and lithe
build of the female imp set them off completely differently and, she
was forced to admit, rather attractively. The Sauceror was not
aroused, but very intrigued by the imp before her. Dropping her
staff to her side, she raised her ungloved hand, calling out brashly.
“Any chance we could just have a chat over one of my pizzas?”

The Sauceror's answer came in a
lightning fast lash from the G imp's hastily drawn quirt. The blow
scorched, as the sauce master had expected from a blow coming from a
Hey Deze denizen, but then the G imp got a taste of the reason the
jalapeño-robed woman had to be so overconfident; a jalapeño
sauce-sphere crackled angrily and counter-assaulted the G imp,
splashing over the offending hand, then returning to the Sauceror to
soothe the wound she'd received. The sauce master grinned an
infuriating grin at the reeling imp, and sank down low into her
battle stance again. She was going to throughly enjoy this fight.
She was going to sing her enemy to her doom, then tell the story to
everyone back at town, where she would be bought drink after drink to
tell it again. The Sauceror's glove glowed as she focused her
mysticality into staff. The trusty shaft of herb-and-spice-treated
meat floated away from her, slowly. She could control it's movement
as she pleased. The robed woman's eyes narrowed cunningly as she
began to sing. On your face I read a million lies / that leather
suit a bad disguise. The G imp's
eyes blazed with the insult, preparing for another strike with the
quirt. Prompted action? Forced reaction.
The Sauceror spun to take the blow on her forearm, which angered her
jalapeño sphere again. She followed it by directing her staff
down onto the foolish imp's shoulder, driving her to a knee. The imp
seemed to purr disturbingly at the treatment.

I'm
a promise in a robe so pure. / I see the measure of your blind
ambition / The testament to your weakling's disease. Another
blow, another forearm deflection, another roar of angry sauce. The
Sauceror darted forward and seized the quirt, which the G imp refused
to drop. The Sauceror got in close, almost nose to nose with her
enemy.

Against
all wisdom you ignore my warning / Your desires give you away!
The staff made the air whistle as it sliced in and smartly spanked
the G imp. The imp's hands shot open with screech that contained
notably little pain. The demon fell to her knees while the staff
continued to spank her. The Sauceror sauntered away with the quirt.

Your
action turns that desire to dust / In your strength you foolishly
place trust. The G imp stood
suddenly, stung, and lashed out with her cat-of-nine-tails, concealed
at the small of her back. The Sauceror took the blow stoically, and
the furious jalapeño retaliation triggered what was definitely
a delighted scream from the victim. The Sauceror spun and toppled
the G imp with a smack from the quirt.

I
hear fear in your broken breathing / Using shadows 'till your body
expires? / All things are born with the promise of pleasure / And
still you travel the road to pain.
The G imp lunged from her arms and legs, lashing wildly with the
cat-of-nine-tails. In the blink of an eye, the Sauceror had summoned
her staff back to her hand and entrapped the many-headed whip on the
shaft. No sauce boiled up to taint the Sauceror's superior glare.

I'm
saying nothing for the good of myself, / but I'm still talking and
YOU'RE NOT LISTENING! The G imp
suddenly found herself in a messy clump against a nearby tree from
the Sauceror's savage kick. The cat-of-nine-tails remained tangled
on the Sauceror's staff, so she attached it to her belt after hooking
the quirt there, too.

The victorious
Sauceror conjured a saucy salve to rub on the stinging blows she'd
received. Stalking over to the beaten up G imp, she laughed at the
way it writhed and moaned in the twisted lump of hair, muscle, and
leather. “Such a shame you couldn't take me up on my offer
earlier. I rather liked you.” She spun on her heel to
continue her search, but her back foot dragged. She looked back, and
the G imp was holding onto her ankle. The grip wasn't aggressive or
overly hard; it was pleading. The G imp's eyes came up. Her mask
had fallen away when she'd been kicked. Rosy cheeks and a soft
jawline were set closely to her bright eyes, making her very pretty
indeed. The imp rasped out, something between an orgasmic whisper
and a beaten shudder. “Please... don't go...”

The Sauceror
blinked, and stopped trying to pull away out of intrigue. “And
why shouldn't I go?” The G imp's black tongue popped out to
moisten her lips. “I need... to be hurt more... Mistress...?”
The robed woman's guts froze. The thought of having a demon submit
to her, look up to her, call her Mistress, the idea was forbidden,
but amazingly tantalizing. If it was found out, what would happen?
Her membership from the tenure of Chef-Magi would most certainly be
revoked, and at worst she could be exiled from the Kingdom under pain
of death. It was a huge risk. An enormous risk. No, too big of a
risk to--

Then the G imp's
snaked under the Sauceror's robe and traveled up her inner thigh.
The electricity running through the Sauceror added to the haze of
another “Please... Mistress...” Then she knew.

The Sauceror
hauled the G imp to her feet by roughly jerking on the collar.
“You'll keep that tone with me whenever you address me, or even
speak of me. You'll follow my commands loyally. If you don't, I'll
end the pain forever. Am I understood?” The G imp's eyes lit
up like fireballs in the dark forest. “Yes, mistress! To my
end, mistress!” The Sauceror took a quick breath as her
nipples hardened. “Good. Then you'll follow me back to my
campground. I'll evaluate you properly at my cottage. Let's go!”

The G imp's mind
was a haze, fit to melt with joy. She'd found someone who could
dominate her at last. She kept her eyes down respectfully, her head
bowed lower than her slightly shorter Mistress, all the way out of
the woods. She would never want for anything again.
- 1
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A Sauceror gets a pet