I just have to post it again

and it is with a story by Nola!

The Mistress of the tavern should not be messed with. Quite recently the

Mistress hired a new barmaid. Young tiefling brod, silk-smooth skin, dark

as ember, ample bosom able to feed quintuplets, spiked horns, silver tongue

and razor sharp wit. But as good looking as she was, she was rotten to the

core. Always trying to shyster, scam, or straight up pick pocketing the

patrons much to everyone's dismay. People complained of course, and the

Mistress' punishment was swift. At first the maid had to do her chores naked,

marking her as easy prey for all sorts of depravities that should have taught

her some humility. But alas, no lessons were learned.

Ultimately the Mistress was fed up with her shenanigans, and handed out the

ultimate punishment: a toilet plunger, and three little words: "clogged

drainage pipes". The barmaid had no idea what was coming, but us patrons were

trying to keep our laughter inside. Full of innocence and naivety the barmaid

climbed down into the sewer. Plunger in one hand, oil lamp in the other. In

the tavern the Mistress switched on the arcane remote viewing devices, and we

just sat there and watched. Usually she charges for the privilege, but seeing

as we were already disgruntled by the barmaids exploits, this viewing was on

the house.

It didn't take long before the monster of the deep caught the maid. It usually

eats the refuse, but today it got something special. Something alive. The

monster dragged the barmaid down into the sewer mud, holding her down while

she tried to break free. Its tentacles slithered and writhed across the maids

naked body, soaking her in slime, mud, and ungodly excretions. And then it

found the maid's holes, and oh, I tell you, explore those holes it did. Metres

of tentacles disappearing in the vaginal and anal cavities, to places where

the sun has never shone. The maid was struggling, gagging, crying and

screaming for help. But we were sitting up top, enjoying the spectacle with

ale, song and dance. And then the unthinkable happened: The maid's face turned

red, streams of tears running down her cheek, and she retched. And after

minutes of agony finally one tentacle came forth from her mouth. One half of

the crowded recoiled in disgust, the other furiously applauded the

spectacle. But this was the straw that broke the camel's back. The barmaid

realised that struggling and was futile, and she fully submitted to the

creature's exploits.  And I swear to you, we could hear the occasional moan,

whenever the tentacles probed her vagina, clitoris or nipples. And at long

last the tentacle swelled, knotted the maid, and finally deposited something

inside every opening that even the vilest alchemist wouldn't dare to study.

The barmaid returned to the surface. Sore, exhausted, covered in slime, muck,

and semen. And we all just laughed and cheered at her. As cruel as it was, it

was well deserved, and finally the lesson was learned. The maid was excused

for the day, but when she returned in the morrow, she was quick and eager to

work, and as submissive as a beaten mongrel.

Don't mess with the Mistress of the tavern.