Hungry hands grab the dark elf guard’s naked chest, pulling him into their pile until he, too, disappears into the floor.
Estrasa steps into the chamber, bare feet over the naked bodies, dragging the second guard by his hair with her monstrous hand behind her. She lifts him and holds him forward, the whimpering male looking deep into the chamber, far to the other side, where sits the dreaded Zozafina.
Zozafina leans on one arm of her throne, a leg crossed over the other, clad in long boots made of the shiniest hide. Her outfit clings to her form, showing off every curve, tone, and bulge. Over her shoulders, she wears the silkiest cape made of spider silk. Languidly, she raises her hand and lets out a yawn.
“Is this how you great exalted guests?” Estrasa asks, dropping the elf. He yelps as he joins the erotic dance down beneath her feet.
“You assume a lot about yourself,” says the dark elf sorceress. She sits up, uncrossing her legs and resting her hands upon the arms of her opulent throne. “You had better have a good reason to come here.”
Her hand returning to normal, Estrasa lowers her arms to her sides. “You have something of mine, and I intend to take it back.”
Zozafina’s plump lips turn up into a smirk. “My, my, the dragon’s slave wishes to boss me around, does she?” She sighs, pushing herself up to a standing position. “I admired the things written about you—how you conquered the wildlands with only your natural talent. How you bent people to your will and made them into the most horrific and pitiful of creatures, creating horrors this world hadn’t known for generations. But really, what are you, Estrasa? I’ve learned much about you, especially after your showing in the Tournament of Pleasure. Do you know what they say about meeting your heroes, oh exalted Estrasa?”
“I don’t have any heroes,” Estrasa responds, her fingers twitching.
The dark elf sorceress holds her hand out to the side, palm up in a grasping motion. She slams her heel upon the writhing ground, and with a groan, some of the dark elven bodies rise, holding in their hand a glowing orb.
“I’ll give you your little trinket that I own.”
“What’s the catch?” the hooded sorceress scowls.
“No catch,” Zozafina says, taking the orb and holding it close to her chest. She sighs, closing her dark eyes. “There was a time when I would never let this go. There was also a time I would so happily hand this to you. Perhaps even recently, I would have fought you for this. But now, you can just have it.” She hands the orb out. “After all, I have no more use for the useless trinkets of a useless child.”
Estrasa’s lips twitch. She steps forward, grasping the orb and taking it from the dark elf. “Thank you,” she says, turning away.
“Leaving so soon?” Zozafina says, flashing her teeth. “You don’t want to join my servants in a celebration?”
Estrasa stops, pocketing the orb within her cloak. “I cannot.”
“Because you are the slave of a dragon?”
She lowers her head. “He rescued me.”
“After he slaked his lust upon your body.”
“I’ve done terrible things.”
“Who said that? Your dragon?”
Zozafina flops back down onto the throne, crossing one leg over the other, resting her chin upon her knuckles. “You know, if you weren’t under his thumb, you could always come here. What is it about him that keeps you going back? The fact that he has a couple cocks? Big deal. Are you afraid of him? He is one creature, and a single being cannot handle an army of this magnitude.”
“And if he wants to mess with me directly, I have a great defense against him. His tastes are limited, and I am simply not his type.”
Estrasa stands there a minute, clutching the orb close to her chest. “I am not his servant.”
“Then, what is it exactly that you seek? Forgiveness? For what? From whom? You could make anyone do anything by changing their very nature into something that suits your whim. You are superior to those weak-blooded mongrels who do not have the innate power that you possess. Why force yourself to their level? Why betray who and what you are?”
“I am nothing,” Estrasa says. With that, she leaps forward, transforming into a giant mole and tunneling deep into the ground with her mighty claws.
“Whatever that dragon did to her,” Zozafina says, “It has completely broken her will.” She shrugs, sighing. “And she doesn’t even realize it.”
—-
Back at his apartment, Draykan wears a bathrobe and looks over the newspaper, circling some things and scratching out others. He takes a swig of his morning wake-up juice and taps the blunt end of his pen to his chin. “Hrmmm…. I can’t take anything on the bounty board because that would mean leaving town, but I need some money….”
“I could offer you a solution to your problem, oh master,” comes the sly voice of a snake, and so Modrana, the gorgon member of his harem, pops her head up from the opposite side of the dining room table.
“No thanks,” Draykan says, folding his paper and stuffing it under his arm. “I’m in enough trouble as it is destroying a city block, and I don’t want to do anything shady.”
Modrana rests her cheek upon her arms. “Oh, I was hoping I could hire you as a bouncer. The last one I had apparently can’t protect my club from a dangerous dragon..”
“Not much can,” Draykan says with a smirk.” He stands up and stretches, yawning. “Augh is that even enough coffee for the day, damn… But yeah, what are you doing still hanging around here?”
Modrana lifts herself, her scaled body on full display as she slithers up to her dragon leader, sliding around him, wrapping her arms around his sides, and leaning her chin upon her shoulder. “The others may have places to go, but my home is here in Anteronia, and my businesses can run themselves for a night or two without me. But for the nightlife of this city, having a dragon, a real dragon around is truly rare. I hope I could convince you to join my enterprise,” she says, her eyes flashing and teeth baring, “Somehow.”