The Muse Dungeons

"Ah! Ahhhh hahaha!!! Ahhhhh no more! No more! Have to...have to breath....ahhhhahahaha!!!" Lance was writhing as he was cruelly tickled and tickled and tickled. He squirmed in his restraints, trying in vain to break free of them. "No moooooore! Please!"

The dungeon master drew back, a wicked smile pasted across her face. "Have you learned your lessen?" she demanded.

"Yes! Yes I have! I'll never do it again!" Lance exclaimed, letting out a big sigh of relief as the black-clad figure drew back.

"Good," the dungeon master stated, "because I HATE people who chew with their mouth open!" She pulled off the black ski mask she was wearing, her usual torturing garb, revealing the crown of her bald head. She quickly snatched up her red wig and plopped it onto her head, turning to glare at Lance. "Were you watching?" she snapped.

"No Lita," Lance replied. "I didn't see anything! By the way, you have really beautiful, natural hair. Really you're beautiful all over!"

Lita rolled her eyes. "Right. Come on, let's get you back to your cell."

"Um, yeah." Lance fidgeted. "About that. Do you think, maybe, you could put me in Justin's cell instead? I mean that would keep us both out of your hair, right?" He winced as Lita glared at him. He licked his lips, trying to put on an alluring look. "I could do things for you you know...I know it can get lonely down here, and..."

"Don't even!" Lita shuttered. "I may be a muse in disfavor, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna go het! Nasty! You know that the boss houses gay muses only! Besides, I get conjugal visits from Steph every now and then any way."

"How did you get this cushy job, anyway?" Lance pouted. "You're a muse in disfavor just like the rest of us!"

Lita grinned. "I promised that I'd keep you out of sight, and stay out of sight myself. Works out great for both me and the boss! And, every now and then, I get to pop up in a Hardys fic. In the meantime, I get to do whatever the heck I want with you losers. It's a good life!"

Just then, a loud howl and some loud banging echoed through the halls of the dungeon. Lita sighed. "Now what the hell is THAT?" she snapped.

"Missing link's probably got his head stuck in his food bowl again," Lance muttered.

"Are you volunteering to get it off this time?" Lita demanded. Lance quickly closed his mouth. "Well, we'd better go see," Lita stated with a sigh, picking up the spiked dog collar from the wall and snapping it around Lance's neck. She hooked on the length of chain that served as a leash, then hit the switch to release the restraints which had been holding Lance during their tickle torture section. "Come on," she snapped, yanking on the leash and striding quickly down the hall. She stopped about half way to the cell from which the horrid howling was coming, glaring fiercely at her change. "Lance, are you WALKING?"

Lance groaned. "Oh you're not really going to make me - "

"I am! I'm the boss down here, and I have to do good work if I want to keep this job!" Lita informed him. "Now, you are my prisoner, and if I say you crawl like a dog, you DO! Got it?"

"Yeah yeah," Lance muttered, getting down on his hands and knees, struggling to keep up with Lita as she started walking at a brisk pace again, focusing mainly on not being strangled by the collar.

When they reached their destination, they were treated with the sight of a huge man with huge muscles thrashing around his cell, banging into everything in sight. A plastic water pail was wedged securely over his head, and no matter how much he banged his head against the walls and howled, it wouldn't budge.

"How does he even do that?" Lita wondered, shaking her head. "Every time I think I've moron-proofed his cage, he proves me wrong! Geez." She glanced at Lance, an evil look spreading across her face.

Lance paled. "What?" he asked nervously.

Lita crossed her arms. "Well, someone has to get it off."

"I don't see why!" Lance exclaimed. "It'll probably fall off eventually! And if it doesn't, then he'll starve, and no big loss, right?" Lita did not look convinced. "Or, um, well see, I'm too little to do any good!" Lance objected. "You should send Taker in to get it! He's big!"

"Yeah, but you know how to calm him down." Lita smirked. "You've done it before."

"NO!" Lance whimpered. "Please, please, please, PLEASE Lita, don't make me do that, anything but that!!! I'll do anything for you, just don't make me do that!"

"Are you making het implications again?" Lita snapped. Before Lance could say more, she pulled open the door to the cell and threw him in none too gently, leash, collar, and all. "I'm gonna go teach Hurricane how to fly, have him calmed down when I get back!" she commanded, spinning on her heel and marching off.

"Lita!!!" Lance cried, watching in dismay as she walked off. "Wait! Wait!!!! I'm great at pushing Hurridope off things, I really am! I can help you with it! Please!!! Or I'll, I'll help you put clothes on Dawn Marie! You know how she hates that! Please!!!" He sighed, seeing that the red-haired vixen muse was gone. "Shit," he muttered, turning to face his fate. He saw that the cage's other occupant had noticed that someone was in the cell with him, and was quickly advancing on him. "Nice boy," Lance whimpered, shrinking back against the bars. "Nice Brock...just calm down ok...no need for us to do something unseemly..." He yelped as the giant with a plastic bucket stuck over his head grabbed for him, starting to run a frantic circle around the cage as the other man blindly chased him.

Meanwhile, Lita was rolling her eyes yet again. Inside the cell she was standing in front of was 'Gregory Helms, mild mannered reporter'.

"Excuse me, miss, I believe I have been mistakenly imprisoned," 'Gregory' stated. "I was put down here under the mistaken idea that I am actually the Hurricane. But, as you can clearly see, I'm no superhero. I am merely Gregory Helms, mild mannered reporter."

Lita leaned into the bars, moving her face only inches from her captive's. "Honey, it didn't work the first 30 times you did it, you really expect it to work now?" she told him condescendingly.

Hurricane frowned. "I'm a friend of the Hardys, you know!"

Lita snorted. "Yeah, and so am I! Face it honey, you're a muse in disgrace, and they're both muses in great favor. You think they're even gonna acknowledge your existence when they could be banging each other or any other uber-hot muse they want?"

"Yes! Because I'm super! A super-duper-uber-buber-hero!" Hurricane claimed.

"Right." Lita started to grin again. "So honey, are you ready for your flying lesson?"

"Hey! Hey you hag!"

Lita's expression turned dark. She whirled on the cell behind her and slightly down the hall. Her hands balling into fists, she marched over, glaring fiercely at the occupant. "WHAT did you call me?" she hissed.

The pudgy man inside the cage smirked at her. "HAG!" he repeated. "I want a real bed, woman!"

"Tough," Lita snapped. "You like tables so much, then you can sleep on one!"

Bubba growled. "Come in here and I'll show you tables!"

"I could beat you in the fight anyday, tubby," Lita informed him. "You don't like your accommodations, well that's the idea! That's what muses in disfavor are supposed to get!"

"How come Maven got to move out?" Bubba demanded. "It ain't fair! And D'von too!"

Lita shrugged. "The boss hands down those decisions, so don't look at me! They've both been elevated to the rank of Neutral muse, so they no longer qualify for my *special* services. But, ooh!" Lita grinned. "We've got a new guest here I think you might like to meet! Or meat." She laughed at her own joke. "Whew, that was a good one!" She chuckled some more.

"Hey!" Bubba was glaring at her. "Who is it? X-Pac? Booker? HBK?"

"Are you kidding?" Lita just laughed at that. "They're all muses in great favor, moron! They'd never come within a thousand muse feet of you! Actually, she's a - "

"Whoa, whoa, back the truck up!" Bubba demanded. " 'She'?!? No freaking way are you putting any 'she' in here! I ain't doing that het thing!"

Lita raised an eyebrow. "Not even if you haven't gotten any in forever?"

"Not even then!" Bubba assured her. "I am and always will be a homo-muse! I'm just as good a homo-muse as Edge or Jeff or Pac!"

"Shyeah, in your dreams, baby!" Lita snorted.

"Wait, I know who you're talking about!" Bubba shook his head vehemently. "You mean Dawn Marie, don't you??? No way! Don't put her in here! No!"

Lita looked amused by Bubba's rapidly draining cover. "What? You look nervous, Buh," she mused.

"Darn right!" the Dudley exclaimed. "She - she'll force himself on me! She'll make me do het, and there's no way I'll ever get out of here if wind of that gets back to the boss! Look, I'll be good, I'll sleep on the stupid table, just put her with someone else! I have to be in this crappy place with all these crappy tables, I don't want an DTMS too!"

"What's that?" came a dazed female voice from a nearby cell.

Lita moved over, peeking into the cell, in which Dawn had, once again, shed her clothes, and was standing by the bars looking dazed, as always. "It's a Disease Transmitted by Muse Sex," she explained. "Duh, thus the initials."

"You talking about me?" Bubba demanded.

"Do you want her in your cell?" Lita snapped.

"Please no!" Bubba pleaded.

"Then shut up!" Lita told him. "If you stay quiet, then I'll put him in with Machine Man."

"Yes! You go girl!" Bubba cried. "She's PERFECT for Benoit! Absolutely perfect!"

"I'm sure they'll make a beautiful couple," Lita chuckled, peeking into the cell in which a horrified looking Benoit was sitting, unable to speak due to the duct tape over his mouth. "I am so glad the boss gave me that handy duct tape gun!" the red head commented. "It's been soooo helpful in shutting up people who should never, ever, ever talk! Especially big dead men who whine and whine and whine and never shut up!" She banged on the bars of another cage. "I hope you're feeling repentant now!" she told its occupant. "You should be thanking me, Lance suggested getting you to take Brock's bucket off his head again, but I threw him in instead. You can still be of some use to the boss, so I figured I'd better not break you." She smirked, seeing Taker's face flushing with anger. "How was that last fic you made, anyway? The one where you were Shane O's bitch?" She laughed evilly as the tall man attempted again to break his chains, settling on glaring at her after several minutes of fruitless struggling.

"Well, I'm gonna take a little nap, but don't you guys worry! I'll be back to see you all in no time, and Benny, I'll put the lovely lady here in your cage then." She laughed as she walked off down the hall, grinning broadly and stroking the 'Dungeon Master' badge pinned to her shirt. "I love my job," she murmured happily.

The end? Hardly!

*the referenced Taker/Shane fic is "Welcome to Bitchhood"