As night fell, the Macaque village became abuzz with frantic howls and shrieks; all of them gathering around a huge bonfire that cast an ominous, flickering glow against Akira's face as she stood gazing out of the window from in Sugary's hut.
"Something's got them all riled up." She mused, in a hushed voice. "This could be my chance to look for Ai."
At the sound of a loud snore she glanced back, unto the sleeping form of Sugary slumped in his chair. He'd dozed off earlier, with his face buried in her cleavage, his primate lips still definitively curled into a satisfied smile. During the act, Akira had intentionally operated her breasts in such a way that she'd hoped to gradually suffocate him; but as it happened, he fell asleep before she could get it to reach to that point.
'The old geezer's conked out!' Akira thought excitedly. 'Heh. Now I know how gold diggers must feel...'
As she was wiping the leftover drool off her chest with a scowl, Akira was nevertheless hesitant to take advantage of this opportunity to escape—not without all her missing stuff!
'I'll need to search high and low for Ai, and the items that were stolen. But there's so many of those damned, shitty apes outside!'
Just as she was sighing from thinking the situation was hopeless, though, she heard a voice: masculinely wise and stoic, reaching out to her from the shadows...
"I offer my sincerest apologies for King Sugary's cruel treatment of you, my Lord, for his mind has grown dull with age...and misfortune."
Akira glanced in the direction of the voice: to be met by an oddly shaped, lanky silhouette of someone—or something—standing there.
The eyes she glimpsed, staring back at her through the carved visage of a ferociously snarling macaque...suddenly reminded Akira of a small bit of information she'd come across, in the past: That an intelligent person's eyes are more glossy and reflective than a normal one's. Like how these were bright, beautiful grey pupils, that gleamed in the dim moonlight as they seemed to meticulously appraise her from head to toe.
Under this scrutinizing gaze, Akira froze—not out of fear, or trepidation, but intrigue—she WANTED to know the mysteries of such an exotic presence; speaking with such a clear, calming voice, even in a situation as dire as this.
"Come along!" The voice urged as the silhouette turned, fading completely into the shadows. "I think you know what fate awaits you, should his Majesty stir from his slumber..."
That's right, Akira thought with a shiver. Withered old monkey sex.
A bowl of some disgusting banana mush Sugary had been eating, as well as forcing her to eat, suddenly slid out of his hand and clattered noisily on the ground as then, with eyes wide in fear, she watched him stir slightly...only to settle comfortably again.
Indeed, she had no reason to trust a talking shade referring to her as "my Lord," but simultaneously had every reason to want to book it out of there as fast as possible.
"Follow me!" The shadow beckoned, its eyes glinting in the darkness again. "Quickly, quickly, my Lord!"
The chase lead her through a secret hatch the figure opened in the floor, descending down a ladder into a dark corridor. Up ahead, pale moonlight shined through what Akira only assumed was an exit, allowing her to vaguely make out some of her rescuer's features: Slender dark legs and arms, thrashing forth from a swishing white robe. A golden headdress of exotic design, and flailing gold earrings.
Akira's violently jiggling breasts kept popping out of the scarce top of her [Oo-Aa-Oo-Aa Outfit], as it was so elegantly called, as she struggled to keep pace.
There was a floating [Name] and [Level] above his head, but it was too far away for her to read it.
"Wait!" She cried out, finally deciding to just let the top fall—relegating the task of boob-holding to her more than eager hands. 'I'm not leaving without my friend!"
The stranger half-turned to her; revealing a wrinkly, muzzled face, and furred neck and hair.
"I know, my Lord." He said, without as hint of exhaustion from all this running in his voice, as his eyes glowed in a mysterious light. "And that is why your people praise you!"
He vanished in a cloud of smoke upon uttering these words, dispersing as Akira ran through them.
Startled, Akira stumbled and tripped, tumbling face first into a bamboo wall. As it turned out, what she had thought to be an exit was actually a dead end; with the source of the light being a small, barred window casting but a broken glimpse of the bright, crescent moon outside.
Her nose hurt, and as she brushed it with her hand she felt warm blood trickling from it.
She let out an angry growl, stomping her foot. "That guy was another monkey after all!"
"And what was that about people 'praising' me? It was so creepy!"
She sighed, staring down at her bare breasts—for the first time ever with a sad expression.
"Everything in the world wants a cut of my assets, and I'm really getting sick of it!"
In the ensuing silence, Akira thought she heard a distant cough, and cooled. Her squirrel ear twitching, she leaned her head with her hand held up to it to listen carefully.
'I can hear...something being squished around?' A sticky sound, like someone playing with taffy.
The strange sounds continued to bleed through the walls only growing louder and louder, more complex and enveloping, as Akira slowly proceeded down the corridor again.
'Now there's crying...sobbing...but where's it all coming from!?'
Gliding her hand across the wall as she went, she stopped when her fingers touched something soft and bristly. A section of the wall where, rather than bamboo, it was made up of grass.
And as she lightly pushed against it, the grass 'wall' turned out to be a door—that opened into a hidden room!
Therein, the worrying sounds immediately grew to a loud chorus as Akira had at last stumbled upon their source: a wide space packed with row upon row, aisle upon aisle, of female and male players alike standing with their arms held up above their heads, the wrists bound and chained to the ceiling. Each one garbed in only an [Oo-Aa-Oo-Aa Outfit], repeatedly stepping up and down with labored breaths into thatch-weave baskets, mashing bananas under their feet to create—what Akira recognized as—the same mush Sugary had been eating earlier!
Upon realizing she'd also tasted of the very same mush, however...Akira fell to her knees, coughing and sputtering.
"What the Hell?" she exclaimed, in disgust. "Is this some kind of sweatshop run by the monkeys to make banana pudding?"
As the world's richest, youngest, cutthroat playboy billionaire, Akira Maximilian of course knew all about sweat shops. Which were a phenomenon he'd once placed squarely in the 'necessary evil' category. Yet not even the worst treatment an Amazon warehouse could offer compared to this!
Then she gasped, with another sudden realization: 'That Macaque must have taken me to this place because Ai is here somewhere, among all these workers!'
It didn't take long to confirm here theory—since Ai was the only 'worker' smiling and laughing.
"Oh, no! Ai-chan has gone insane from all this cruel treatment!" Akira exclaimed, a warm sense of relief rushing over her, still, as she came forward to greet Ai with a kiss on the lips—neither caring if she still had a bit of Sugary's taste on them.
As their lips parted, a blushing Ai explained: "The monkeys took me here, and made me do this"—she glanced down at her feet, frowning. "I dunno what it is, but it feels all warm and sticky between my toes!"
Akira gave a weary smile. "Honestly, I'm a little concerned over how you can remain so upbeat through all this."
She wrapped her arms around Ai's bare torso, thinking of how adorable she looked in the [Oo-Aa-Oo-Aa Outfit]. "I was so scared of what they might have done to you, Ai."
Ai nodded, her eyes twinkling with tears. "I was worried about you too, Big Sis. I kept calling your name, but you didn't answer."
Akita huffed, rolling her eyes. "I'll tell you all about MY experience, later," she said, as she began tugging at the chains around Ai's wrists. "But first things first, let's get rid of these."
Predictably, they wouldn't budge; not from just the exerted force of a pair of bare hands, at any rate. They were largely eaten away by rust, though, so likely any standard hard implement or weapon could do the trick, if only she had one on hand...
Akira exchanged glances with Ai. "I don't suppose you still have a knife stuffed up somewhere?"
"A knife?" Ai blinked, then shook her head "Nope, just my claws."
"I already tried picking it with my claws," she mused aloud, stroking her chin. "Although..."
She opened her mouth wide, drawing out her sert of oversized, Squirrel-like of front incisors.
Ai clapped. "Big Sis! You're a genius!"
Akira had to stretch herself far to reach the reach the chains with her mouth, then chomped a few times on the hard bamboo until, slowly but surely, cracks started to form.
Then from these cracks, an eventual break.
Once she'd gotten both of Ai's hands free, Akira grabbed her. "Alright, let's get moving. I saw the Macaque were getting rowdy, earlier, and I'm hoping we can use that to our benefit, as a distraction."
Ai wouldn't budge when Akira tried to oull her, however. And it wasn't until Akira stopped, to see what was the matter, when she noticed all the sad expressions of the other players being held captive in the banana smushing dungeon. The lot of them having all grown still—at once ceasing with their torturous labor—to pleadingly gaze at the two.
"Akira..." Ai said, brushing her arm gently. "We can't just leave all these people...can we?"
With her pulse pounding under so many forlorn gazes, the scene immediately reminded Akira of the Orc dungeon—and all the Squell that were likely still trapped there, being abused and eaten to this very day.
And although, back then, she couldn't do anything to stop it; by contrast, in this particular situation...
"Give me a hand, Ai." Akira said quickly, brimming with a newly kindled surge of determination. "Start with unchaining the Squell prisoners, so they can choose to help, too."
Ai gave a salute. "Aye, aye, Big Sis!" Then promptly [Scurried] off, to find her first mark.
The rest would go down in tales of legend. As, among those to be freed by the dynamic duo on that day, stories of the incredible heroism exhibited by 'SexLover69 the Emancipator' and her Little Sister sidekick would live on through the generations. An epic that would inspire countless epic ballads, theater plays and poems; grand artistic sculptures, paintings and tapestries—all of which could doubly be viewed as pornographic, since, during all these events that would make Akira become known as a legend...
She had unfortunately neglected to replace her missing top.