Divinity Rescue Corps
Prologue

Ivy sat ramrod straight in the hard, uncomfortable chair, staring at the mirror and knowing she was making someone uncomfortable. She studied the tattoos on her head, the snake coiled around the right side of her head, and how it was fading from sight by the the day. The dagger on her right forearm, piercing the heart. The Japanese kanji on her right shoulder, unreadable backwards: Survive. Thrive. The Chinese lettering on her left shoulder: Justice. Retribution. Across her back, written in Korean: The most important step a man can take is the next one. The latest addition: a blueberry muffin with an adorable cartoon rabbit seated on it. There were others: a purple bat with a huge mouth, a flower dripping with poison from a stinger that looked like a scorpion’s tail, a red and blue and purple octopus that had her boobs coiled in its tentacles. Others too faded to see.

Some of these tattoos were ones she’d gotten on earth. One of them—the muffin with the rabbit—she’d paid for to have done in the other world, with the unpronounceable name… but several of these simply appeared in the other world as mana saturated her body. For some reason, these last ones were fading slowly over the course of more than a week, leaving her with her original ones: the thorny vines wrapping around the skull on her left forearm, surging out of the skull’s wide open mouth and forcing its jaw to break off on one side.

Mostly she stared at the mirror to make the Agency people uncomfortable. She practice her slow smile, which made her look intimidating.

She knew they were back there, they knew she knew they were back there, but they were content to make her wait and listen to the clock tick up the seconds. She’d already sat and watched the second hand revolve around the old school clock at least thirty times. 

Ha. These corksuckers had no idea what a Guardian was capable of if they were trying to make her uncomfortable by waiting. There was a single person who could accomplish that feat, and her name was Isabelle Lee Rodriguez.

Though to be fair Fletcher could pull it off. Maybe.

Probably.

After another good five minutes, or ten minutes, who gave a shirt, a man in his early forties entered the room carrying a tablet and a paper file. He had thinning hair up top and had chosen to toss his dignity right out the window by doing the comb over thing. It didn’t help that his ears were kind of big.

He gave her a conciliatory smile. Ah, good cop.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. O’Malley.”

“You don’t need that nonsense,” she said. “I’m part of your organization. We’re allies. Ivy will be fine.”

She could crush this man’s skull with her bare hands. You didn’t advance up to level 25 as a Guardian and not exceed the human maximums. Really, the Olympics would be a very different series of competitions if they were to get people from the other world trained up in there and then get them on the field.

She guessed anyway. She could lift Muppin, technically, and he was like lifting an elephant. Sure she had to lay on her back and brace her arms and legs, and yes she could only get the big heavy bastard two inches off the ground, but a thing was a thing, even if you could only lift it two inches.

The man blinked at her several times, adjusted his thick spectacles, and cleared his throat. “Ivy then. I’m Agent Winters, uh, Raymond. If you prefer, you can call me Ray.”

“I bet you prefer to be called Agent though, don’t you?” She asked, smirking.

He was already off balance. Had they told him why he was there? Had they told him about her capabilities?

“Why don’t we, uh, dispense with the pleasantries, uh, and we can go into, uh, what prompted the situation in the, uh, portal room.”

“You want to know my story?” She asked.

“I will have specific questions eventually,” he said, “but essentially, yes. The events that led up to the destruction of the portal.”

“Have you ever seen the portal?” She asked quietly.

“That’s neither here nor there,” he said. “I’m going to record this debrief, and I’ll get into questions as we go.”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“Your man Dick Johnson, yes apparently that’s his real name, recruited Isabelle and I at the same time, almost exactly a year ago.”

***

The man had given the two of them a coin that seemed more like a beer coaster than money. It had weight, and more importantly, it had magic. It literally came apart as the day wore on and she and Isabelle stared at it in Izzy’s room.

They had laid there on the bed, not able to explain. They weren’t on drugs. They hadn’t been drugged at the restaurant where Dick Johnson agreed to meet them, because they didn’t accept food from strange men, and so they hadn’t eaten. Instead they watched him sip a coffee and be congenial.

He had decided to recruit Isabelle, he explained, because people with their kinds of experiences were better suited to the strange and the unknown. After you’ve felt the kind of uncertainty and fear she had, having her school life torn apart and getting assaulted, you could really do anything. You could face the complete blank of a totally new world and not collapse into a gibbering mess.

So after Isabelle got the job, Ivy applied.

She explained to Ray Winters what she knew was already in her file: she had been the victim of a cyber attack. One of the girls she’d pissed off in class made a deepfake of her having sex with around a dozen men. The offended girl then posted her apartment address, and the cyber bullying really ramped up.

Ray knew all this. It was in his file. She didn’t know if he read it, but she had to admit to some enjoyment, watching him squirm while she retold the incident where she’d been assaulted by four guys ‘just looking to get what those other guys in the video got’.

Then, before Agent Ray Winters could interrupt and tell her he already had all this info, she went on to recount how she and Isabelle had gotten their money in order, squirreling away the vast majority of it. She had a small family and set up a trust for her siblings. Isabelle had a huge family both in Mexico and Korea, and set up a steady trickle of money to them. They had listened to the advice of the financial advisers quite closely, and knew that just blasting their families with money wasn’t a good idea. It never worked out well.

Afterwards, they entered the other world together, kicked the crap out of several guys who were using their Physicality to do what had already been done to Ivy once upon a time, and selected Guardian when the time came.

It was an easy choice.

The lady in charge of sorting them into classes, Allie, didn’t stop them from choosing Guardian, only advised against it because there were a lot of Guardians already. Everybody liked the name and the flashy powers: grow to a huge size, manifest a magic shield. Up to now, they had listened to the adults when they gave advice. Now they knew better. Guardians for life, they swore to one another.

They couldn’t leave the HQ without orders; those were the rules. They were too low level, and critters out in the wider world could eat them. Second, they could run afoul of a god. Also, the Agency dictated missions, and just wandering around outside HQ was not a mission. Rangers had mapping missions with Rangers, sometimes with a Guardian tagging along depending on how far afield they’d be going.

Instead we had training sessions to grab XP. This was how it worked: the Rangers, Sorcerers, and Rogues would attempt to attack other members of the organization, and it was our job to stop them from doing that. We played it like a game, with fouls and rules and referees with whistles.

It never gave us much experience. It was like the system knew we weren’t for real.

Otherwise we did odd jobs as ordered. Orders gave xp, but not nearly as much as actually doing your own job. There was kitchen duty, either cooking, serving or scrubbing, there was janitorial duty, message running duty, and simple guard duty. The kind where you stand in one place and look bored, and try to remember to keep an eye out for a threat that will never come.

It sounds inane, but the God of Footfalls got into the HQ somehow.

“I had Isabelle, so it was okay. The Agency didn’t care who you shacked up with as long as you reported for duty and did your job. After that, you could screw the entire floor if that was your thing.” Her cheeks flared. “I mean obviously you couldn’t.”

“Let’s move on,” Ray Winters said, and revolved his stylus around in a circle in a ‘hurry it along’ motion. Ivy knew they were in trouble, but delaying was an option that could bear fruit. She soldiered on.

Ivy skipped ahead to the interviews, where she and Isabelle tried to get hired on to expeditions leaving HQ for certain tasks. It was always no, no, no, too complicated to have Guardians who just wanted to guard one another, too disappointing to have Guardians who definitely wouldn’t get into bed with the expedition leader while away from HQ, too many expeditions who only needed a single Guardian.

“You’d be surprised how many of the expedition leaders wanted to get away from HQ so they could just get freaky all over the countryside.” She wasn’t that type of girl, always letting her pussy do the thinking for her and get her into trouble. No, she let Izzy do the thinking for her and get her into trouble.

So they eventually got the interview with Fletcher. Good guy, Fletcher: looked a little pathetic physically, but seemed like a decent person. He’d dealt with the God of Footfalls when the chief Healer accidentally got touched and infected with divinity.

“Although personally I think the chief had some kind of immunity or high level power, and just wanted to give Fletcher a test to see how he could handle the challenge. I wouldn’t be surprised if he summoned the god or let it in.”

Ray Winters informed her it was not her duty to speculate on these sorts of matters, and she shrugged.

Fletcher had done a poor job of handling the God of Footfalls. In failing to craft a cure some three or four times, he really made a mess of several healing labs before finally getting it right. Apparently the large psychic Nakamamon Larelle had given him a lot of help in order to finally create the cure and get it made. Afterwards though, the chief Healer gave him permission to assemble a team to head out toward the town of Glumpdumpkin, to find out the situation there and get it dealt with. There were two other nearby towns, Flunt-on-the-Rustle and Saxwhacket, that HQ was concerned about.

“They didn’t want whatever was going on in Glumpdumpkin to spread to Saxwhacket or Flunt-on-the-Rustle.”

Ivy paused and stared at Agent Winters. How was it possible this guy didn’t have the slightest reaction to the town names? No twitch of a smile, no snort, not even a heavy breath out of the nose, like he was watching comedy reels on Boobtube alone. She shrugged and continued.

She had gotten the position. Fletcher had been given permission to assemble whatever team he liked, up to twelve people. He believed the team needed one of everything. He had a Bard, a Rogue, a Sorcerer, a Wizard, and then two Rangers, and some Guardians. It was actually a pretty smart set up, because the Bard eventually helped with negotiations once they got to civilization, and the Rogue ferreted out their secrets. The Rogue was also good for sneaking around and scouting in the wilderness. Meanwhile the Sorcerer had complete command over stone and could make pretty much anything you could imagine. Two Rangers didn’t make sense at first, until they found out that Fletcher was doing them both.

“By ‘doing’ I mean he was bumping uglies.”

“Understood.”

“Like, he was really giving them the business. Often. And I mean, I’m highly bisexual, so I could definitely see why. Regina is this redhead, cute as a button, with nice ti—”

“I don’t think we need to go into Mr. Fletcher’s sexual exploits,” Winters said hurriedly. “Let’s stick to the events in question.”

Tara though, Tara was nice and tall, not built thick like Ivy, but slim like a runner or a swimmer, with a fantastic butt and legs for days. She was blonde, bubbly, and bouncy. And she was always showing off that butt with yoga pants.

Now Winters reacted. Finally. “This is neither here nor there. We have Ms. Harkonen in custody. Her physical description is irrelevant to our purposes.”

“You got to understand,” Ivy said. “Fletcher has sex magic.”

He blinked in incomprehension. “I’m sorry, did you say… sex… magic?”

“Somehow he got sex magic as a second class.”

Agent Winters blinked several times.

“So when I say he was plowing Tara’s field like every other night, it’s important. Sometimes Izzy and I would be getting into the mood just from hearing Tara grunting and groaning. Or Regina.” She grinned. “Or Regina and Tara. They were both doing him at the same time some nights.”

Winters shifted in his chair, looking like he was definitely compensating for a stiff… hip.

And it needed to be said: Fletcher’s sex magic didn’t make you want to have sex with him. It made him great at sex. Two totally different things. Fletcher didn’t wave his hands and turn your eyes into hearts, before pushing you down on your knees, where you’d instinctually open your mouth. No, he smiled and conversed with you and told you he had a complicated situation with the other girls, and he found you attractive, sure, but nothing was going to happen you didn’t want. But if you did want it… it would be good. Mind-blowing. Better than you’d ever had by leaps and bounds. The kind of sex that made you say the word ‘lovemaking,’ the kind of sex that made your tummy flutter with butterflies when he smiled at you the next day, the kind of sex that made you not care that he was in bed with several other girls.

Regina and Tara were both walking around a little bow-legged some mornings, and it wasn’t long before Ivy and Isabelle noticed.

“I got to admit, the first bits of our travel, it was pretty exciting to get my hands on Izzy up in a tree, or in that stream over there, or under that adorable little waterfall, or in the tall grass.” Ivy had felt liberated on the trip. She and Isabelle could slip away and take their time with one another.

Agent Winters fidgeted again. “I don’t see how your sexual exploits are relevant—”

“I’m kind of into spanking her. If you’ve seen her in sweatpants you’d understand. Obviously we scissor, and there’s a whole lot of sixty-nine I could go through. One time we went down on each other and used the toys at the same time.”

“Ms. O’Malley—”

Describing the look and feel of slowly penetrating Izzy with a thick glass dildo was one of the more enjoyable moments of the last few weeks. This definitely beat sitting in her cell reading a book, or going out for exercise time and doing a bunch of handstand pushups with Izzy sitting on her feet holding the big dumbbells, because the weight machines only went up to around 250-300 pounds. And this definitely beat the food here. She was getting wet just talking about how the toy was kind of transparent and she could see up inside Isabelle, while at the same time Izzy flicked her clit with her tongue and eased the other toy into her over and over again.

“I don’t think you get it,” she said. “There’s no plastic in the other world. It gets… runny. And rubber sometimes warps out of control, or hardens into a woody kind of texture, or turns into syrup. You couldn’t have something like that in your most precious orifice. So it came down to glass.

“Getting it through the portal wasn’t easy,” she said. “They do all kinds of screening when you try to bring items through to the other world. They have to, because of the way certain materials react to the mana in the other world.” She leaned forward. “And they do cavity searches for drugs, too.”

Winters made a strangled sound.

“So it’s a bit awkward, explaining to the agent with the blue latex gloves on, right after she’s pulled this full-sized dildo out of you… but it beats having a team of agents pull it out of your luggage.”

She threw back her head and laughed.

***

“Your name is Isabelle Lee Rodriguez?” the agent asked her.

“Yep! My mom was Korean, and my father was an American, but like, Mexican American. He got her knocked up in no time while teaching English over there. He’s Catholic, you know, so condoms are against God’s will or whatever… they ended up having four kids before she forced him to get a vasectomy. I guess you don’t need to know that.” She laughed feebly in the interrogation room, looking around at the cameras and the huge mirror and shrugged. “Ivy says I share too much.”

The agent blinked at her.

“We need to go over the travel, and how you ended up sidetracked away from the town… of… Glumpdumpkin.” He turned a look her way that said ‘this is a real place?’

“That’s pretty simple. We headed west out of the HQ, I got my ankle crushed by a flying rock, really embarrassed Trent, Fletcher healed it back up, and then when we came to the flying lake, it turned from a regular lake into a water dragon god thing. We all got achievements, and when it finally set back down we were totally off course. Right near the village of Slinktrickle.”

He pursed his lips. “Slinktrickle.”

“Adorable marsh village on stilts, and all the people there are Nakamamon, basically one species. Marshin.”

She didn’t get the confusion out of him this time. This was already the fourth or fifth time she’d been over this with the interrogation people, so they didn’t ask, ‘Martian? People from Mars?’ like they had before.

She held the sides of the chair, lifting herself up a few inches, and swung her legs like a child on the playground swings.

“But it turned out the anti-magic pills were crushed in Trent’s little stunt, so Tara left with her air snake bond to grab some more. Which was why she didn’t know about the clothes vanishing thing.”

The agent nodded like she’d been expecting those sentences in that order. It really wasn’t as fun when they’d all gotten past the agog phase of these interrogations. They didn’t even flinch when she told them she’d gotten into a fight with Ivy about the lack of dick-shaped objects. Their glass dildos had been confiscated by the portal people. They no longer freaked out when she told them she’d snuck into Fletcher’s tent to blow him and ended up on her hands and knees, taking his cock inch by very slow inch, so she could accommodate his size. Somehow he’d known it was her, even though it was pitch black.

Which led to she and Ivy approaching Fletcher about giving Ivy the phallic shaped object she claimed she needed.

“I mean I was really hesitant at first because, you know, Ivy got me the job on Fletcher’s team, and I didn’t have any interest in men, but she protested that I’d already had sex with him, so we tried him out. Luckily it was really good… he made sure Ivy paid attention to my needs first… I don’t know if you’ve ever had two partners licking and sucking and kissing you at the same time, but it’s, mmm. It’s really nice. So I got a really good climax before she sank down onto Fletcher’s huge pole. Oops, I guess I shouldn’t describe it like that.”

Honestly she wasn’t even trying to censor herself any longer. These people were d-bags and had gone over the events of the six months in the other world over and over and over again. Let them squirm.

“Anyway all our clothes disappeared outside of Slinktrickle. It was a malfunctioning god, obviously, but it was really uncomfortable being around the place without any clothes. We made it work, but there’s as another problem… the Marshin eggs were brown and soft in places. Fletcher got to work on that first, and after a problem with our Bard, the Marshins kind of freaked out on us. He had to work double time to get the eggs healed, which, you’ll have to check with Cinzy, I think involved spitting the cure onto them?”

She shrugged.

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