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Subterrane Ch. 01

By: Etaski



Author's Notes: This story is erotic fantasy written by Etaski. I reserve the right to be listed as the author of this story, wherever it is posted. If found posted anywhere except Literotica.com with this note attached, this story is posted without my permission. © Etaski 2010

This story arch is a sequel to my other submitted Drow story series, "Sisterhood."

I wrote the "Subterrane" series so that you are not required to have read the first story before reading this one; you will get the background you need. It may be richer for those readers who have already read of Sirana's first exploits, but all are invited to give it a try if you have interest in the Drow and the Underdark.

A warning on this story as a whole: Just as with "Sisterhood," the Drow are a Chaotic Evil race, and as such, most of the sexual elements are on the dark side, largely BDSM and force, with power shifts between those involved.

It's what they live for, after all. I hope you enjoy.

******* 

The last voice I had heard was the Red Sister Prime's deep contralto, as I lay not-quite-unconscious on a secret altar within the Palace.

"She is ours to train, Sister. We will inform her Matron after she's been taken outside of the City."

I remember feeling that there was no choice for me, not really, and I hadn't exactly volunteered to undergo that trial, or initiation, or whatever they wanted to call it. The Red Sisters as a whole had subjected me to a fair bit of hard use, all only to see my reactions and how I adapted. It was just as well that I headed off the automatic reaction of Noble arrogance and indignation; it would get me exactly nowhere.

Rise up to the challenge, or be tossed aside in favor of someone else with more guts. At least they thought I had a chance to become what they wanted me to be, and I would be able to live with that.

What they'd done to me was a clue of what types of things I might be allowed to do to others, should I pass their training. I'd have additional resources, and some of the previous limits at Court would be expanded. Those who did not fear me before very well may once I return. My playground would undergo a transformation that I wanted to see in its full glory. I could look forward to that, if I succeeded.

Yes, that's a wicked consolation, but where in the Underdark did any Drow *not* start rubbing palms together when new possibilities opened up?

I fell into deep reverie shortly after that last train of thought and did not recall anything else until I woke up again, naked and chilled and laying with the fingers of my left hand trailing in barely-moving water.

My ears detected regular drips echoing in a cavernous area, but otherwise it was quiet and calm. One could almost say it seemed "peaceful," if I valued such a thing. But in my world, it's only peaceful in the interim between power shifts, before the next attempt to disrupt the status quo. Peace was more like an underground geyser slowly building up pressure before surging high as possible and reaching for the ceiling.

The Valsharess was the exception, however. Protected by the Priestesses and the Red Sisters both, our queen had not been toppled or usurped in known memory. Or at least...in the history that I was taught. Young Drow who develop a certain skepticism for how the winners choose to spin their tales of "victory" and "divine right" are both better off for not being fooled, yet more at risk for being culled should they become troublesome.

The Matrons that existed now to fight over their place on the ladder beneath the Valsharess...? Yes, those are the ones who had struck the right balance. They were able to grab at their areas of control and yet didn't become *too* threatening as to be wiped out entirely.

As much as I resented my Mother and Matron for failing to see the damage done to me under Juarinia's "care," she does have that talent. And she had been always a subtle speaker, a certain kind of teacher to me whose workings of mind I could understand and...admire. To a point.

Now, in the quiet cavern, I only expected something to happen. My eyes flew open with a start and I jerked my hand out of the water before some creature could start nibbling on it. I held it in my other, slightly warmer hand, flexing and reassuring myself that it still worked properly as I lay on my side in the dark. The hard stone beneath me was uneven and slick, and my hip and shoulder had gone mostly numb for all the time I'd spent lying unmoving.

Swallowing an audible groan, I shifted quietly as I could onto my back and looked around, moving eyes and head slowly so as to not draw attention if someone or something was nearby enough to hear. I inhaled slowly, drawing clear scents of rock, algae, and moisture into my lungs but little else.

The place was not that large—enough to fit a small servants' quarters, perhaps, with a dark pool deep enough to sustain a score of Drow indefinitely since I knew from touching it that it was not stagnant but being fed by an subaqueous stream. Even such a valuable pool, though, would not support any type of agriculture or animal husbandry for longer than a few decades.

Unlike the City, there was no light here, and I wasn't seeing in the spectrum of visible light as I had been in the Palace during the trials. My eyes could detect heat to a degree, but more than that, it was radiation I could see, out to a certain distance.

The Surface Traders called it "Dark Vision," which neither had much imagination nor explained how it worked. Those races bold enough to venture down here sometimes had magical items to help them attempt to see as the natives could, but it frightened more than a few. They always carried fire as a back-up because they did not trust it.

What they did not trust was that everything moves, or emits movement. Live creatures, the four elements, everything. Waves of energy radiated out even from stone, from water and air, every bit as much as fire. Invisibility spells wrapped those waves around you, created a chameleon effect where your body did not break those waves of radiation. Magical darkness also masked that energy for a time in a specific location, though it didn't destroy it. Surface eyes, burned to numbness by the sun, had lost such sensitivity and flexibility—if they ever had it.

In the Underdark, the only thing I couldn't see when there was no light...was color. Color was reserved for the spectrum of light only, with fire or magical light or the life-light that some underground creatures made within their bodies: the luminous algae or insects or fungus that grew upon the stone. At all other times, radiation gave me a world of grey shapes and depth good enough that I could split a hair with my blade if it was necessary. The only true disadvantage, of which the wizards were most aware, was the fact that we were unable to see or read two-dimensional images on flat parchment. Like any wizard on the surface, that skill needed light.

All the better reason to know one's weapons and abilities and not rely wholly on magic, even though we as elves possessed that less tangible sense, that magic sense. Subtle in its workings but linked to our very nature, among the Drow it was always triggered by danger or threat. With our sight and all our senses, it was very hard to sneak up on us.

I realized, at this moment looking about the cavern, that these most-important senses were silent.

As my body started to relax, I became much more aware of it. My abdomen was astoundingly warm, and when I shifted my legs I gasped at the sensitivity of my sex.

It was a mistake to reach down and touch it. Blood pooled instantly and arousal coiled tighter and tighter until it began to hurt. Mental images of sex bombarded me—it almost didn't matter what kind, anything, but most important that it involve splattering semen—and my breathing quickened, alarmingly loud in the still chamber.

I was alone, I didn't know where I was, and I had to find a male. I just had to!

*What's wrong with me?* I pulled my hand away from myself and rolled to get on all fours, intending to stand up.

I didn't make it that far.

My groan was dampened by a constricted throat, and I lowered my head down to my forearms, my hair falling to cover my face. My knees I left open and my backside was high in the air as I prayed that a male gifted with an erection would magically come up behind me and plow my sex hard and fast. I swear to Lolth, I'd even gladly welcome Kerse! No games this time!

Quivers of uncontrolled lust passed through me that I did not like at all. What had Lelinahdara said at the end of the ritual...?

*Unless you want her to catch a child, keep her away...she will be craving males.*

Was this crippling desire the result of the healing of my womb, the side-effect of the divine energy the Priestess had called to flood my body? How was I to think, to act, or defend in this wilderness if I was paralyzed with this need? They'd known this would happen, hadn't they? I would bet they had.

And they'd left me alone with this!

With a growl I reached back between my legs with one hand, my forehead still braced on my one forearm, to slap my mound sharply a few times. I wanted to squelch this unnerving feeling, wanted to make it stop with pain. I flinched at each burst of sensitivity that was neither pleasure nor pain, but both. It changed nothing; this was not a fire that could simply be beaten down and smothered.

After another strained look about me, still convinced I was alone, I rubbed furiously at my sex, thrusting fingers inside much harder than was normal for me. My eyes squeezed shut and I bared my teeth as my spine tensed and my toes flexed. I just wanted to cum, I just wanted it to happen, to get it over with, if that stupid Priestess couldn't heal without forcing arousal, then fine, I'll...I'll...

"Nnggh..." I grunted, still suppressing my voice even if the squishy, sloshing sounds from between my legs negated my efforts to be quiet. The wave of pleasure was good. *Oh, very good, ohhhh, that's it...*

Except that it wasn't quite enough. No, I had to go one more time, then one more...

By the fourth orgasm, the warm spice of my arousal was all over my hand and seeping from my own body, announcing to the entire Underdark that a lone Drow was flopping around, helpless, and ready to be eaten at their leisure.

Wasn't that just delightful?

More grouchy than I'd been in my entire life, snarling and frustrated as my slit still throbbed and pleaded for real cock, not some poor substitute, I rolled and planted myself down to sit, leaning back against a stone.

How long would this last? Would it ever end?

I snorted a quiet laugh at the irony. *Now* I would beg that faceless wizard to fuck me, to let me cum, to do as he liked with my body as long as he sprayed his seed into my snatch at some point and I might even thank him for it....

My body was already sweating but it flushed both hot and cold at this realization and I bit down on my first knuckle to try to get my own attention, to focus. I was terrified at the strength of this divine magic. It could take my will and reduce me to a gibbering mass. I still had an intense distrust for Priestesses and all the religious magics. Give me a sword or dagger, rope, wire or poison, I could show you the direct path to victory. Give me a secret and a sense of a weak spot. I could exploit it.

I twitched where I sat and decided I really hated this particular weak spot. It wasn't really my weakness...it wasn't!

Could Lelinahdara have prevented this part? Was it a plot of the Red Sister Prime, or a punishment? Or just an "oops"? Had they not realized I'd be like this permanently until it was too late and when they realized it, the Priestess doomed me to a unique exile, one where I'd slowly waste away for want of mating and lack of physical contact?

I ground my teeth. No. I'd still not give up that easily.

I leaned forward and crawled on all fours toward the edge of the cavern pool. I was thirsty and perhaps it would cool me down at the same time. The temperature so far belowground is actually quite stable and warm, not nearly as cold as when you travel farther up, toward the surface and away from the world's core. I was not freezing and neither was the water; it smelled potable and was a pleasantly tepid as my lips touched the surface and I sucked in long, satisfying gulps.

At least one thirst could be satisfied.

I felt dizzy a moment when I finally stood up, but I stared down into the water and focused as well as I could below the surface. I watched for any sign of movement, of light, of danger...

After longer than normal for me, I could detect algae glowing dimly far below and small fish cutting silently through the liquid. Knowing there's always a bigger fish, the lack of one now didn't clear the pool as being completely safe, but if I was quick, perhaps...

Simply put, I needed to wash. Not only had I just creamed myself repeatedly, but the Red Sisters hadn't done me the favor of bathing me prior to abandoning me. Every mark and substance from their abuse in those secret chambers was still present on my body. My attempts to be quiet hadn't made any difference in my safety now that I thought about it. No doubt I could be scented from a mile away. Either I'd been exceedingly lucky while unconscious, or They had chosen this location well.

The pool served to cool me down temporarily and truly it was refreshing. Everything from my long white hair down to my scraped toes I cleaned in the black underground pool. The swirling water caressed constantly between my legs so that my mind never got far away from the fact that I sorely missed having members of the weaker sex nearby to sate me.

Really, the Sisters leaving me here was both the least effort they could make, and the most torture they could inflict.

Or so my cunt kept telling me.

I'm not so sure that's right.

Curse all mind-altering magic anyway!

I wrung out my hair after climbing out of the pool, shook my hands and let the rest of the water drain naturally down my skin and onto the stone. I caressed my netherlips again with one hand without thinking, then grimaced and pulled that hand away with the other. I gripped my hands tightly together and shivered in a way that had nothing to do with being cold.

Should I leave this area? Was I supposed to find my way back to the City or find something here? Were they waiting for me elsewhere? Or had I simply been left to find my fate in the wilderness?

A note or a sign might've been nice...

I braced myself against a boulder with arms straight, gripping rock as I was assailed again with overpowering imagery of mating again, and again. My legs parted and my back arched, begging to be mounted and ridden hard. The emptiness was agony, the lack of willpower maddening to me.

My ears perked at the sound of tiny, tiny footfalls and I opened my eyes to see the familiar motion of a large spider crawling closer to my hand.

A spider. Our goddess's symbol. Already I could imagine the excitement a Priestess might show for such timing. "It is a sign! Lolth is making contact!" they'd say.

I stared hard at the grey arachnid as it creeped and stopped, creeped and stopped. It wasn't heading toward my hand directly, in fact it was trying to avoid me after realizing it had gotten too close. I reached out my hand to block its path; it tried to go around, and I blocked again, deftly slipping my fingers beneath its forelegs to lift it onto my fingertips and closer to my scowling face.

I could make out small black eyes in a ghostly face, small hairs on a still, hunched body sensing the heat of my skin, and small hooks holding tightly so that even if I turned my hand vertical it would hold on.

A sign from Lolth, was I to take it?

My pussy pulsed again, a frustrating amount of drool anointing the lips just now cleaned. I bared my teeth at the spider and slammed my hand down, crushing it then smearing its shards and goo across the rocks.

Fuck Lolth...

Her Priestess had left me to face a similar fate. I could be so focused on getting my cunt stuffed that my senses would fail to recognize a giant of a threat until I was walking well within its sight. Just like that spider had walked up to me.

*Thanks a lot, Most Fickle of Goddesses. How You laugh with glee, so entertained at our antics. Do You lose interest when the plaything stops struggling in Your Web?*

I knew I did.

I also knew that, entertaining or not, I had not ceased struggling. Far from it.

*So keep laughing, goddess.*

Stone rolled gently around the edge of the pool and I decided to trace the cavern in which I'd been left at least once, just to be sure I knew what I was leaving behind. Wouldn't it just be like an assassin to say later, before killing me, "Oh, I'd left something for you, if only you'd looked around and not stumbled off like a helpless idiot into the unknown."

So yes, even just basic martial training suggested you sweep the area clean before leaving it, in case there's some useful tool there you can use.

It took longer than I would have liked to check the cavern. Twice in my turn about the place, I sank to my knees, gasping and not seeming to catch my breath for the sudden waves of want that overtook me.

The need was constant, but fortunately it also surged and withdrew, allowing me brief respites of relative lucidity that allowed me to shakily climb back to my feet and move again. I knew I would still be in trouble if I ran across something dangerous while in the grips of this...this breeding trance.

Finally, though, I found something. For all my recent cursing about magic, there was still that inborn sense and I did value it. I could not help but be able to sense magic nearby; it was in my heritage.

Even my beloved, straightforward weapons were fashioned with various amounts of Drow magic.

I slowed and turned my head toward a small outcropping that partially hung over my path along the pool's edge. I was on the far side from where I'd awoken, and a silent, familiar hum beckoned me closer to that outcrop.

I found a shadow dagger in its sheath as long as my forearm tucked between stones so as not to be easily dislodged by a passing cave dweller. I reached with one had first to touch it and subtle recognition answered my instinctive inquiry.

Yes.

I used both hands to carefully release it and felt the curving designs upon the sheath and the hilt with my fingers, so stark and familiar that I could see them in my mind's eye: House Thalluen. I drew it to check its edge; it had an elegant curve and was all black metal to reduce reflection. It had a single edge blade and double fullers on either side running its length. The sheath possessed the crest of my House in the form of inlays, but those were matt black upon black as well. Simple and beautiful, one of the stealth blades.

They had left me a weapon from my own House. My only possession out here.

Unlike the spider I could say that this, at last, was my sign and my instruction.

I had to find my way back.

There was no belt so I would have to carry the long dagger in my hand. There were also no other supplies found as I checked the reset of the area; nothing to carry water from the pool, nothing with which to clothe myself, and no food.

They were testing my previous training, perhaps? How much did I remember of the survival trials? It wasn't so long ago; I wasn't worried. I also considered that there were two ways in which they could evaluate me: just wait and see if I ever came back, or have at least one Red Sister stalking and watching. Too soon to tell which one, so—

I gasped and hunched over as I was gripped by the lust again, teeth clenched and waiting, waiting for it to recede again. Just make it stop...!


Subterrane Ch. 01



When finally I could straighten again, I tried to get my train of thought back then shrugged. The point was that I had to leave. After one more drink of water, I climbed upward and left through the only opening that led from the cavern above the waterline. It was large enough to walk through upright but most humanoids would have to walk single file. This was something else in favor of my not being found until I woke up: only one way in, larger predators could not fit, and it seemed to be above most of their heads anyway.

I found myself at the other end of the tunnel, looking down from the lip an abrupt drop into a wider, barren cavern. There was only one other exit to this one as well, and that, too, I had to climb down, across the basin, and climb up again and out.

By the time I had navigated what amounted to an obstacle course to finally reach a real pathway in the Underdark, I had become intolerably hungry. I had not eaten since before the Red Sister had collected me upon that balcony, and through that entire time— through pure endurance coupling with three different males and the mind-wrenching personal exposure I faced atop Lloth's altar, until I woke to find myself here and climbing through whole valleys to find a road back—I had burned more energy than I had on my most intense day of martial training.

I stood at this path, wondering if this could be so easy as to follow it back to the City, and waited for my senses to tell me which way to go. Lolth's "divine" fuck-me-now hangover obstructed that answer completely.

I cursed under my quivering breath and choose a direction—really there were only two, I picked the one leading downward—at least to begin hunting for edible fungus and small creatures.

A pity I had wasted that spider from before. They tasted unpleasantly bitter, I knew, but one couldn't be choosey in an area without much growth. Or I could have stayed to fish in the pool...a little late now to be having that thought, and again I "thanked" the Priestess for clouding my rational thought.

Dual hungers ate at me for what seemed an eternity as I walked, and this road was empty and quiet. Scuttling flashes of movement usually happened too abruptly for me to think about stalking or pouncing, and I didn't run into anything bigger than my palm in any case. My reflexes and instincts were not at their best, to say the least.

Fortunately, even had I been throttling myself between my legs right then, I'd have heard that pickaxe when I rounded a curve.

Dwarves could never be silent. Whether from their endless array of tools and armor or from their simple plodding on wide feet with heavy bodies, they were not made for stealth.

Ah, but which kind of dwarf would I meet? And why did I hear only a solitary pick jabbing at the stone?

Praying my next mating clutch wouldn't hit me for another few minutes at least while I reconnoitered the scene ahead of me, I crouched lower and padded very softly, watching for loose pebbles or slick moss, testing the ground beneath my bare feet. The focus on a tangible threat helped push my lust back into its proper place for the moment, and I crouched behind a convenient stone I hoped was within my eye's reach but not the dwarf's when I peeked over it.

That was another of the many differences between our races; Drow could simply see farther in the dark. The dwarves being near to the ground, and seemingly near-sighted by all accounts, I had the advantage if my Goddess didn't fuck it up for me.

The dwarf was only barely visible when I chose my moment to look, just on the edge of my vision. He even seemed to flicker and swim in and out of focus as he moved here and there, however I remained able to hear his every step, scrape and tink as he shifted around, studying a lay of stone and working at it as if to release something.

I squinted to take in the detail as it came to me. Dark skin, bald head, and a short, white beard. Not the stockiest dwarf I'd seen, but somewhat more lean and sinewy than the rumbling tanks that lived much closer to the Surface. But I knew what it was.

Duergar.

If there was a race that knew less about enjoying life than the dourest slave, it was the Duergar, the grey dwarves of the Underdark. There was a joke that to see one smile meant only that it had gas.

Grim and bitter and jealous of their ubiquitous cousins closer to the Surface, their only pleasures were to push around those weaker than them and to work their captives to death. Meanwhile, they never ceased toiling themselves; they expected it. They made life harder than it had to be and their measure of strength was seeing how much rock one could move in their lifetime, figuratively and (at times) literally.

There was nothing I respected about them except their notable viciousness and the fact that a few of them had distinct mind-talents which should never be underestimated. One of my favorite cautionary stories at Court had been the one about the Trade Mistress rejecting an offer made by a Duergar and foolishly turning her back on him. The fact that a fist-sized stone flew straight from the ground to the back of her head while the stern-faced Duergar barely moved a muscle... well, it came as a shock and a surprise, because no one had tasted the magic in the air as a warning.

That was because it hadn't been magic as we knew it.

Legend had it that these abilities were introduced to the dwarven body thanks to the Illithids, those hideous, tentacle-faced psionic masters of the Underdark that even the Drow had cause to fear. In fact, it is said that the Illithids created the Duergar almost wholesale, that the squat workers had once been of a common Surface race, dragged down deep as prisoners to serve and obey their psionic masters. They'd since changed.

The Illithids have enslaved more races than has my own kind—which is an accomplishment. The rumors of their experiments, changing and creating new and warped forms of the natural races as they exercised a telepathic grip on their victims, certainly lent itself to explain much of the Duergar philosophy of life:

Work. Dominate. Punish. Work more. Die.

It also provided an obvious insult to the short, grey burrowers...just mention their past slavery to the Illithids in some creative manner. Watch their bald heads explode in bad temper.

So... did this one have such mental talents? Why was he working alone? I had been sitting for enough time by now that if there were any others working in the surrounding caverns, I'd have heard them. I knew Duergar sometimes scouted into our territory looking for gems, and, like a social insect having found a new food source, they would return to bring reinforcements. It was endlessly irritating keeping the poachers out.

I pondered whether to take out this scout before such a thing could happen, but then, looking down at my turgid nipples and lack of any armor or poison or weapon with any range...well, I'm not stupid. For being so short, the grey dwarves were still quick, strong, and did not hesitate to kill. Charging him now and hoping to get the drop on him was not an option.

I could smell his sweat after a time as I sat there, and I was aware of the increase in heat in the area. He hadn't bathed anywhere near as recently as I had, and dwarves in general always had an oily heft to their musk, layered with soot and ash, grit and mineral. They often smelled to me like bags of grease and earth, and this one was no different.

I remained behind the boulder and stewed a moment, then bit down on my lip and squeezed my thighs together as another wave of arousal claimed me. It lasted for several minutes and I chose to hold my breath temporarily and let it out rather than struggle with the husky gasping that tried to escape.

These episodes were not lessening in strength and this was beginning to concern me; I feared that it was indeed a permanent affliction. I would not live much longer if it was. Depending on who discovered it, my death could be a singularly creative one.

No. If this was permanent...my first target would be the Priestess who'd done this. I wouldn't keep the secret forever, but all I had to do was keep it long enough to get to her...

The Duergar's movement paused and he went still as my mind finally cleared somewhat and I tried to catch my breath without being audible. If I'd thought to take him unaware, it was too late; he sensed another presence, though I was willing to bet he would not have been able to see me even had I stood straight up. He'd hear me, perhaps even smell me, but he'd not see me.

I peeked back over the stone, tensing as my body flooded with sensations in addition to randiness, as I prepared to move as my training would do me justice. I had to keep eyes on him from now on, I knew, as more lore of the grey dwarves came to the fore of my mind.

He could literally disappear on me if I wasn't ready.

The Duergar gathered up what I was sure were raw gems just harvested, and he moved over to his pack a few paces away. He added the gems to a pouch tied to the outside of the pack, reached to lift and don a simple steel helmet that had been near his feet. The helmet didn't have a nose or mouth guard and barely protected his cheekbones. Then he stood perfectly still, listening and remaining far more quiet than I'd have been willing to believe a dwarf could manage.

I focused on the pack and saw there was a swollen water skin tied to it, slightly damp with condensation. It was a reasonable leap of logic to suppose there would be food inside that pack as well.

Now I had a much more personal reason to confront him. He was poaching in Drow territory, yes, but I wasn't the Border Guard and it wasn't my responsibility to police it—especially naked with only a blade to my name.

It was, however, much more in my interest to try to take that food and water from him. I wanted it more than he did, even if it was of their deplorable diet. If he was a scout, he could hike back to his troupe and get more. I, on the other hand, was on my own. My only resources, other than the blade, would be what I could find—or what I could claim.

I would have to get closer somehow. In other circumstances, maybe I'd consider bargaining with him, but I truly had nothing to barter away. I would not give up my House's blade, and I hadn't anything else on me.

It might be an obvious joke to suggest killing two salamanders with one stone: to bargain sex for food and take care of my intense need at the same time. I would gut someone for even suggesting it. Yes, apparently I would fuck a Draegloth—remember, they were half-Drow, still. I'd not fuck a dwarf, and any true Squat would not even consider slacking his occasional lust with a Drow.

Simply put: We would kill each other first.

I would just have to try to take the food and water. To do that, I'd have to best him.

"Wrundele, Drowen," he muttered, deep and aggressive, when neither of us moved for full minutes. He was scowling in my general direction but not looking right at me with these blank, milk-white eyes that actually did resemble an Illithid's. "Ichen blikrow."

I smiled and slowly stood up. So guttural; it sounded like the grey dwarves were always hacking and spitting on their own language. I got the gist, though. He was saying that he knew I was here.

"Surely you speak Trade, Duergar."

He seemed to look right at me but, as I had estimated, he couldn't see my exact form or face. He squinted but didn't hold my location for long before his gaze wavered. He was still estimating.

He nodded once, a short, gruff gesture. "I do. Quit hiding, Drow. Come out."

"Mmm, no," I replied with a playful lilt to my voice.

The silence following baffled him and his face grimaced in a very ugly shadow of anger as he gestured with his pickaxe. "You frolicking whores try to slave me, I'll wrench you all open from crotch to neck."

I had to admit, it was a pretty good threat and I believed he would. But he had also revealed that he wasn't sure if I was the only Drow here. I knew I was, and I knew he was the only Duergar.

"Leave your pack, then," I said, projecting a command to my voice in the dark. "Those gems aren't yours. Leave everything here and we will give you a chance to run."

He glanced at his pack, his face hardened further and he shook his head. "You lie, you chase when something runs. I can't outrun you."

"Try," I mocked. "Leave your pack and we'll call it even."

He had a very firm grip on his pack as he scowled even more deeply. Surely he didn't have anything in there for which he wanted to die or become a slave? Was he a fool?

"Leave our territory, scout!" I repeated as my stomach rumbled impatiently. "This is your only chance!"

He kept quiet, and I saw the first bit of doubt cross his face. Damn my hunger, I'd pushed too hard, too quickly and squandered the chance to bluff him and avoid a fight.

"Drow don't give chance," he murmured quietly, hefting his pickaxe and his pack, biceps bulging. "They attack, or they trick. They trick when they don't believe they can win by their own strength."

He grinned, showing wide, blunt teeth as he closed his eyes. He started to vanish before my gaze.

"No, you don't," I growled and sprinted forward to get closer, focusing solely on his fading outline. I drew in my hand then thrust it up, making a specific gesture as I exclaimed, "Faeriluci!"

Calling Darkness wasn't my only inborn talent; I could also Call Light to some extent. A line of harmless, magenta fire outlined the Duergar just as his invisibility spell took complete effect. I could no longer see his face or form or belongings in any way, but I had attached a glowing "Please Shoot Me" ring of faerie fire to his void that would last several minutes.

"ULKHEIN!" he bellowed in rage—I was pretty sure it was an insult—then a stone the size of his fist hurdled toward my chest at incredible speed.

It had my full and undivided attention.

So the Court story had been true.

The stone clipped my sword arm near the shoulder as I dodged to the side, but I kept moving forward as the rock ricocheted against the side of the cavern behind me. My shoulder was beginning to feel numb and I knew had to end this quickly. I was not in a position to toy with him and expect to come out on top.

I planted my feet just out of striking distance for him and waved my hand in front of me. I risked closing my eyes as I breathed, "Lucinitrel."

Three dancing lights bright as candlelight formed between us and I heard him cry out in pain. He'd been looking right at it, and I knew how much it had hurt. I took advantage of his blindness and rushed forward to strike.

In truth, I was just as blind as he was. I knew how to fight blind, even if I needed more practice yet. But I also hadn't had a good look at how his armor was put together before he'd done his chameleon act. To top it off, my favored arm was severely weakened from the glancing blow I'd suffered from the flying rock.

My strike did not kill him as it should have; in fact, I missed anything vital. I can say that I disrupted his spell, easily made him visible again, and knocked him off his feet likely clutching his own arm after I heard the pickaxe drop as well.

I opened my eyes slowly, ready for the sting, and I could see the tears streaming down his face as he grimaced against the hovering lights. I directed them closer to his face so that I could shove the handle of the pickaxe farther away from him with my bare foot. He'd have to scramble to reach it, I thought.

He said nothing, made no sound after that first cry, just gnashed his teeth and trembled in rage, his eyes continuing to water. His arm was bleeding freely as dark fluid dripped onto the rock beneath him, but he was protecting his vital areas and was coiled to strike if I moved against him.

"Give me your pack, poacher," I demanded. "Enough games."

He growled, a bit of froth at the corner of his bearded mouth. "No."

Then he blinked his eyes, and the pickaxe began shifting closer to him as if it had a will of its own.

Uh-oh.

I turned slightly and kicked him with the heel of my foot, connecting with the bridge of his nose and sending him backward onto his pack. Blood spurted across his face, the pickaxe stopped moving. I looked upon the strange sight of a Duergar in repose.

*Hmph. One probably does have to knock them out to ever get them to relax.*

I let the dancing lights fade to spare my own eyes, to let them readjust to darkness, and listened as the quiet returned to the cavern after our scuffle. Had we drawn unwelcome attention? Were his own coming to investigate? I shouldn't waste time.

I kneeled to roll him slightly on his side and to work, yank and shift his heavy pack from his prone body; it was quite a chore that took more energy than it should have. Who knew Duergar were so dense? I fumbled to get the water pack untied as soon as I was able, sniffing the spout and huffing a laugh.

It was water alright, but it was mixed with mushroom ale. Or rather...it was mushroom ale heavily diluted with water, enough to replenish oneself but not without a dull buzz that likely also numbed sore muscles and minor aches. It made perfect sense that this would be the drink an ever-working Duergar would carry.

"Better than nothing," I muttered to his body as I looped the strap across my shoulder to let it rest at my waist (rather than my hip, if I'd been dwarf-height). Then I started unlacing the leather ties that secured his pack.

As I began to pull out items looking for anything edible, I ran across a variety of small, nicked tools that, even if I didn't know what they were for, seemed like the essentials for any scout. They were each wrapped in oiled cloths that repelled moisture and were flecked with rock, earth, and dust, obviously well-used and—where applicable—repeatedly sharpened. He must have been using this same set for years. That or he was not the only one to have used them. I set them aside. They were heavy and I had no interest in excavation tools.

About a dozen raw, unpolished gems were inside as well. Despite what I'd told him about them not belonging to him, I really didn't care about those either and continued my search. Stuffed in a side pocket on the inside was a package that seemed to have some give to it and I lifted that out. Enclosed in an oiled leather wrap this time, I smelled what I'd bet was animal fat and tugged at the string tying it closed.

Inside was a dense, pressed block of something that I presumed was the Duergar's dinner. I could smell under-nuts, mushrooms, salted fish meat, cave berries and an oil of unknown source. It had all been ground up and smashed together into a compact, portal meal.

It was very crude and nothing you'd ever see on the dining plates of the Court but I wasn't going to be choosy right now. Properly rationed, this one block that filled my entire hand from heel to fingertip could last me two days of marching. I took a bite, chewing slowly to taste it first then swallowing more hastily. It really wasn't to my liking, far too musky and heavy, but I could live off it.

I took another few bites, and then a swallow of the ale, careful to not start guzzling that. Slowly my hollow middle ceased its incessant demands and quieted.

I found nothing else of real interest to me after I emptied the pack; he had no weapon that equaled my House blade, I could not wear his boots nor any of his clothes or armor, which consisted mostly of studded leather braces and heavy shin guards, as well as a thick chest piece that would take a sharp blade to stab through it. His single blanket for resting was shabby, coarse, and smelled unbearable. Overall I would say he was poor in matters of wealth when compared to the Noble Houses. He possessed what he most used as a laborer.




Subterrane Ch. 01



There was only two other things I considered taking in addition to the food and water: his cloak and his belt. The grey cloak would be short on me, but would obscure part of my form; it wouldn't be so obvious that I was completely naked if I should meet anyone else. The belt would also give me something to hang my scabbard and food from and free my hands.

I had also decided to kill him after stripping those things from him. A simple cut across the throat or blow on the head with the pickaxe. I did not want him tracking me, and the Underdark could do with one less Duergar hacking at its tunnels.

With that in mind, I removed his helmet before remembering I didn't want blood all over the cloak. That first, then dispatch the dwarf.

Like with the pack, the cloak took some doing to get it out from under him, cursed heavy beast that he was. I was panting and muttering obscenities as I finally yanked it free without tearing a large hole in it. It smelled of smoke and grease and made me wrinkle my nose but it was also of durable weave that wasn't as rough as the blanket.

I draped it around my bare shoulders which were not as wide as his, so that afforded a bit more length as it fell to my lower thighs.

I could picture Elder D'Shea clearly right about now: pitching over laughing if she saw me like this.

My sponsor.

I realized it was the first time I'd thought of the Red Sister since I woke up. She was originally the one who'd gotten me into this, more so than the Priestess, if I thought about it. But yet I didn't feel the same resentment for her as I wanted to toward the Priestess and her ritual magic, with after effects that continued to haunt me. Elder D'Shea had tested me in her own way, and had not found me wanting.

"No demons but us," she'd said to me, "or is my confidence in you misplaced?"

The fact that she had confidence in me at all during that the short time I interacted with her between the trials was something different for me. It seemed, in retrospect, like she had approved, and perhaps that she would take me as I was and support my strengths...

"She bends, she doesn't break, Eldest. She will prove it."

Such confidence in me...perhaps she schemed in similar ways. I wondered if I could enjoy her company in some genuine fashion?

Or perhaps that is just as bad of an idea within the Sisterhood as it was at Court...

Well. I would never find out if I didn't make it back.

I shook my head free of the momentary distraction and kneeled again to roll the Duergar fully onto his back and take hold of his belt buckle. It took some figuring out, it wasn't just the clip I was used to but something that threaded through a wide metal ring and folded back on itself.

Just as I succeeded in undoing his belt, however, I felt the rapid rise of another lust-clutch sweeping up on me.

"No," I groaned in dread, my hands clasping the loosened belt in a grip that hurt my hands. My knees were braced for balance but also far enough apart to allow for easy mounting and my cunt shrieked at me, demanding why this wasn't happening right now, right here.

I gasped for breath and quivered, trying to regain some self-control, wrenching my eyes away from where they'd drifted: the Duergar's crotch. In doing so, I was now looking at his face.

I froze.

His eyes were open, entirely white and subtly glowing, face and beard stained with blood from his nose. He stared at me, and I felt a sharp pain inside my skull which forced a hoarse scream from my throat. Maddeningly, this did not squelch my need to mate but the pain only seemed to enhance it.

I was dead. Why hadn't I just killed him when he first went unconscious? I'd thought I'd been too hungry or thirsty, then got distracted with memories and details and felt falsely secure. Such a stupid reason!

It was far too late for such thoughts now.

Continued...



Subterrane Ch. 02



The glaring Duergar opened his mouth as if to speak or snarl, then his eyes flew wide and he suddenly sucked in his breath and went rigid for a moment.  

We were still staring at each other and I still had hold of his belt.  

I felt a power I didn't understand connecting us—no—swamping over us, heavy and crushing like a flash flood.  Whether it was something leftover inside me from Lolth's ritual or it was something inside this dwarf's kinetic head, it threatened to rob us of our right minds.

*Ichfren gow.  Fretizga kohr!* he said, although I'd heard it distinctly inside my own mind, a telepathic link just like with Lelinahdara the Priestess.  

I didn't understand a word but just as I could sense the Priestess's disposition while on the altar then, so too could I sense exactly what the psionic meant now.  

He could smell me, sense my lust.  He didn't understand why I was naked or why the smell alone made him want to fuck the "cowardly trickery" out of me ...but he was going to do it anyway.

*Try,* my mind mocked back and he heard me.

We started to fight.

I've truly never heard of a Duergar and a Drow trying to rape each other.  One might think that the two cancelled each other out, made it a mutual goal of a consensual nature, right?  Except that we were both as horrified at what was happening as we were aching to couple.

He'd started by reaching up and gripping my arms in an iron grasp and hauling me atop him. I could feel a short but stout erection pressing into my stomach, his trousers already loosened as the belt flopped.  My nipples scraped across the stiff leather chest piece and he breathed heavily in my face, smelling of the ale I'd just sampled.  My legs parted to brace my knees on either side of his thighs and my hips jerked as if to get closer to the phallus nearby.

"Let me go!" I yelled in Drow, unable to focus on speaking Trade right then, and I didn't pull away from him.

He laughed and snarled at the same time.  Then he bit me on the shoulder when I jabbed him in the eye.  I quickly yanked at the tie holding the cloak to my shoulders and let it drop; I would not be strangled with it!

We thrashed violently across the ground but I was at a serious disadvantage.  While I had the superior dexterity, he was stronger and no stranger to grappling; he was also protected by his armor and clothing.  He injured me three times for every injury I did him, though at this point they were mostly bruises, scratches, and bites.  Still, this clearly was not the way to hope I would survive this.

I was working desperately not to be pinned beneath him; I kept all momentum going constantly, and we were rolling far away from where we began.  The Duergar's stout cock had long been exposed to the air (no comment who did it), and I used his pants to limit the use of his legs as we wrestled.  Nonetheless, it was my legs that we focused on whether or not they spread the widest.  All he had to do was worm between them.

One of our many rolls finally ended against the wall of the pathway; still raging, I was the one with my back pinned to it and the dwarf with skin almost as dark as mine forced his way for the fifth or sixth time between my thighs.  

He managed to get to his knees, both arms locked around my waist and trapping my arms, hauling me up to settle me onto his lap. I tried but could not break the hold this time; I had nowhere to go with the wall behind me and all four of my limbs were restricted.

"No!" I blurted, jerking with both nausea and a sharp thrill as I felt the blunt, hot tip probing at my sex, more than wet enough to accept him.

"Kwernish toug, Drowen!" he yelled back, looking up at me infuriated, his meaning slamming into my consciousness so hard that I flinched.

*What have you done to me, Drow?*

I had no answer, had no idea, and I stared at him before, with a mutual grunt, he thrust his pole into me, the girth of which I could say only Kerse was similar...but the Draegloth was twice the Duergar's stature.  Were the grey dwarves all shaped that way or was it just this one...?

My back scraped and pressed painfully against the stone as he fucked me against the wall, his puffing nose and mouth and scratching beard pressed against my breasts.  

I felt the pain of the rock and horror of our coupling, the disbelief that my cunt had been pried open by a wide Duergar cock and was now wrapped snugly around it.  I didn't want it as bursts of pleasure shot through me, as my body stroked him just as he stroked me, and my wailing was pure release as I climaxed then. 

I didn't seem to come down from it but leveled off in a pool of pleasure that swirled around me and kept me spinning.  Oh Lolth, no, I couldn't think, I couldn't think!

I tried to get away from him, gasping in pleasure and rage, wriggling as he held on tight to me as though he was drowning, as he continued plowing into me.  What made it worse was that I could feel his pleasure in my mind as well; he recognized how much tighter my slit was to his past experience, he loved it, and his thoughts were quickly becoming much blacker. 

He was going to use me in every way, until I was loose and broken, then he was going to kill me.

In the future he was going to do this to every Drow he captured, for surely we all must cum from being forcefully taken.  He was no longer afraid of us.  He was gloating.  

I could see everything he planned to do, and it enraged me.  He would not find future captives as...compromised as me.

No, I would not be the weak link!  

And he could not be allowed to live to tell this tale.

Though I railed against it, I climaxed twice more before his breath began to get very choppy and ragged.  His violent, murderous thoughts quieted at last as he clenched his teeth, grunted and held still, his cock spurting and making my passage even slicker.  No doubt it would soon drip onto the stones beneath us.

"Aw, Lolth, no," I groaned in disgust, jerking hard in his grasp and finally freeing one arm.

A Duergar had deposited greasy dwarven seed inside me!  I struck his shoulder in frustration and humiliation as he huffed humid breath on my skin and he only chuckled.  I felt no thrill this time, no echo of his excitement; I felt only soiled.  

From that I realized I was alone inside my mind again; at last I could think clearly.  For the first time since waking up outside of the City, I was myself again.

I had my one chance before he recovered his breath.  My free hand scrabbled for the first thing it could reach.

"Too late to regret getting so close," I whispered in Trade before stabbing the sharp edge of a loose stone into his unprotected temple.

I did not check to see if he was already dead before scrambling to retrieve my House's blade from the ground and returning to slit his throat as I should have done at the start.  The semen leaking down my thighs was my own fault.

At the same time...the clarity of thought and the calmness of being was refreshing.  It would seem my body was finally quenched of its thirsts.  I could also suppose that, of all males that might have provided the service, this one likely couldn't impregnate me.  Even in lore, no one had ever heard of a half-dwarf, half-elf.

Either it simply couldn't happen, or no such half-breeds had ever been allowed to live.

*Thanks a lot, goddess.*  I thought again that she must really be laughing now.  Imagining that gave me the focus to act and not lie down in shock.

I did not act on my first impulse, which was to find something to wipe the moisture away from between my legs.  I left it there. 

I had my reasons.  Even if I would waste the energy to drag this body somewhere off the path where some denizen might find it and eat it before it was discovered by other Duergar, I wouldn't get it far.  Also it would do no good because there would be a gloriously bright blood trail the whole way leading right to it.  Already I was sure something must be following the scent of blood to here, and I had to be gone long before that time.

In the instance that Duergar did make it here first, I had to obscure as much of the "reenactment" that they could figure out with what was left behind.  That meant *not* using the blanket to wipe the semen away only to leave it here for them to find.  That meant pulling up and closing the grey dwarf's pants and spending a decent bit of time piling dirt and rocks on top of the body to ruin physical evidence.  

I scattered the contents of his pack farther out and about and, in addition to the waterskin and food pouch, cloak, belt, and my own blade, I also picked up most of the raw gems and the tool kit that contained the most pieces and took that with me as well.  I intended to dump it later, farther from here, I only wanted to obscure the reason for the attack.

The reason being just food and water.

And he had ended up fucking me in order for me to get it... Again, my own fault.  I could easily have killed him first.  I didn't.

I won't make that mistake again, divine hungers or not.

I took another swig of the ale-water to hopefully numb some of the soreness all over and left the semen on my thighs as a reminder as I began running down the passage, gaining quick distance from the scene of the skirmish.  Without the dizziness caused by those cursed lust spells, my senses were sharp enough to run and still be aware of what was around me.  

I also finally knew I was heading in the right direction to get back home.  The pulses this far deep, this close to the planet's core, were each their own rhythm, and one became accustomed to sensing those closest to where they were born.

I was still at least a wake-cycle away.  I wanted to make as much progress as I could before I found out whether this clarity was a temporary reprieve or not.

*****

I took the first opportunity to wash again, and by then, my feet had long begun to ache from sprinting along the naked stone.  It was worn smooth in many places and I kept to those to avoid more unnecessary cuts and scrapes but that didn't help the simple fact that I had not trained my feet to be this tough.

An oversight I'd have to correct, if I survived.

The underground river that I found was enticing, it looked cool and cleansing.  I wanted little else at the moment than to jump in; my body had actually begun to smell bad.

Correction:  I could smell the marks of the Duergar on me, and the heat from my long run kept his essence between my thighs ripe and viable.  It did not blend together happily in my nostrils.

This free-flowing river, however, still took time to check out and make sure that washing was safe, just as at the deep-running pool in the cave.  Only a fool recklessly leaped into a moving body of water in the Underdark without sensing its depths first.  

Even when I thought I had found a fairly safe place, my long dagger stayed within reach.  If any tentacle that tried to loop my ankle as I stood submerged up to my thighs it would be instantly severed.  I began to wash both my body and the dwarf-scented cloak.

I finally had a chance to check my injuries more closely.  A few muscles had been pulled or strained, and I'd jammed one finger on my off-hand.  A variety of bruises, scrapes, and cuts clearly displayed that I'd been in a close-contact fight, but the bite on my shoulder was the deepest mark.  For that, I was both fortunate, and unfortunate.  

No single injury I'd sustained was crippling or posed a serious threat, but the bite mark was clearly identifiable as a humanoid without fangs.  There weren't too many of those down here.  

I'd done what I could to cover up the scene I'd left behind, or at least disrupt its reconstruction.  My own body, on the other hand, would be a perfect map, whether or not I washed away the evidence between my legs.  My kind watched for these injuries, we speculated and gossiped and probed.  We couldn't help it.

I could handle being watched rutting with a Draegloth; I could handle other Drow, male or female.  But I would be fighting an uphill battle if others knew about the Duergar.  

I hated that this necessitated another secret of my own but what could I do?  I could already think of a great many things I'd do to torment a rival who'd been fucked by a dwarf and I found out about it.

It occurred to me for the first time to wonder how I might fare on my own if I simply did not return?  No one had ever said I had to go back.  For all they might know, I was killed by something, my remains lost or eaten, just another lesser daughter to be struck off the list of potential usurpers.

I climbed, clean as I could be, out of the water and set upon a rise that let me watch the movement of the water, the wrung-out cloak wrapped around me and naked blade clutched in my hand.  The river glittered subtly with iridescent life, flickered from the shadows that passed over it.  I pondered for a quite a while, feeling my sore muscles stiffening up but continuing my reverie; I needed the rest anyway.

It wasn't in my nature to run away completely.  Whether it was my cowardice or my methods for stalking a goal, that sometimes couldn't be distinguished at the time it happened; I would always choose to live and run away to fight another day.  But if I ran away now, not to fight at all...how did that suit me?  

It didn't.  I'd be allowing a chance encounter with a grey dwarf dictate whether or not I'd become a Red Sister.  I could determine which this was I considered right now:  it was cowardice.

Not only that, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I had learned.  How many others knew for certain that Duergar could connect empathically, mind-to-mind, and be affected so strongly by divine magic and emotion?  It couldn't be that many; I was one of a few that may have witnessed both the psionic strikes, of moving stone and of stabbing ether.  

I'd also seen images of his job, his home, knew so briefly how he'd felt about them, about us...and I'd been the one to live at the end of it.

I'd learned far less about the wizard during the time he'd wallowed his prick in my backside.

Looking at it the other way again, I'd clearly benefited; the craving was under control for the moment and the Duergar couldn't tell the tale.  

The additional knowledge I'd gained had value, regardless of how I got it, and it was a shield, a deflector, should it become a concern in the future.  Wouldn't that be something a Red Sister would do?  Different methods for gaining information, learning weaknesses, exploiting them or setting a trap... and wouldn't a Red Sister go farther than any Drow at Court to get it?  It hadn't been intentional but opportunism was often the jewel and cream in our society.  It happened, so make the most of it.

I smiled in the dark without showing teeth.  Carving out a solitary life in the Underdark wilderness and trying to defend it by myself wasn't for me.  I could handle my fellow sisters, I already knew the basics; I'd been doing it for most of my life.

I looked forward to my return now, I realized, as I partook of my stolen supplies, chewing slowly as I thought further.  Our city had outskirts, and those smaller dwellings might contain a way to heal myself.  Who said the Red Sisters had to see the bite mark at all?  I could hoard the knowledge and the secret, keep them both until the right time.

My feet and limbs were not ready for further use when I finally stood up but some time spent slowly stretching (and firmly squashing my impatience to start again) eventually made it bearable.  I took it more slowly and cautiously going forward, wanting most of all to avoid any more chance encounters and to conserve my energy.  The howling drive to run as far as possible away from the dead Duergar had run its course hours ago.

For most of the journey, I didn't so much recognize landmarks or rock formations but could still sense when the rhythm seemed off.  I changed paths and entered alternate tunnels several times, trying to keep on track with the deep pulse of my birthplace.  I didn't avoid all dead ends, unfortunately, but it was good practice in keeping reign on my temper and attitude.  Scowling at uncaring rock would hardly cause it to part itself for me.

Act.  Don't react.

In addition to the mysterious Elder D'Shea once in a while, my thoughts also wandered to Gaelan, the youngest Sister present at my first two trials, who had touched all three of my used openings with her tongue and mouth, cleaning semen out of me before kissing me.  She had not only been skilled, but had seemed to genuinely enjoy it—unlike Qivni, who had reacted with such distaste when ordered to do the same.

I wondered why Elder D'Shea had switched their places?  I understood that it got me to not only admit to and face my own "soft spot," but that had been with the comparably meek and pliable Gaelan.  Why start with Qivni, who clearly resented the order?  Had Elder D'Shea been punishing her for something, perhaps?  Or intended to make it a lesson in better self-control, given how Qivni was sniping at me during the trials, before I drew her attention with my own flaw?  That was what my gut said had been happening, but I would have to watch and learn further to know for sure.

Qivni was mouth-wateringly tempting in a similar way as the faceless wizard; she had set herself up as an adversary from the start, just as he had, if in a less invasive way.  Perhaps she wanted to dominate me but didn't understand me, had not watched me long enough, if at all, to know where to push me.  She had been there to hear my story, but I would as yet know hers.

The question was:  would it have any power over her, as mine had been released, for the most part?  Had the Red Sisters stripped that from her as well?  As I promised that I would do with the wizard, I rather looked forward to discovering where she rested, what drove her, and where she might crack.

Of course I could never run away from the City; how could I even consider it on account of a single dwarf?  I belonged there as surely as spiders belonged in their web.  That was where they caught their prey—not outside of it.

My spirit lightened and my memories of Gaelan becoming rather more clear, I felt a pleasant warming in my body as a whole and in my middle in particular.  It was a bit surprising to become aroused at the memory of a female servicing me but...so be it.

The arousal came to grow in a more startling way when it naturally drifted to the reason Gaelan had had something to clean in the first place:  the leavings left in or on my body by the two male Drow and the demonic offspring of a Priestess...and the tools by which they were born able to do it.

There was no changing this:  I remained fully enamored of those tools.  The very reason for their existence was to please my varied hungers.  My memories of my trials were already becoming fodder for my future pleasure-thoughts as I remembered how they had pierced and stretched me, stroked me so hard, their need not so different from my own...

I had to stop and set my hand against the rock to steady myself as the wave built without my desire for it, and my dismay showed on my face even in solitude.

*Oh, no, not again.*

It seemed the thing to do to just then to try to bring myself to climax without fighting it, my having conveniently forgotten that this had not worked back in the cave.

It was even less effective here, as I was no longer alone.  I quickly removed my sodden hand from its task and slipped down into a cracked gutter of stone that ran parallel to my current path, a tiny creek running at the very bottom of it, littered with the refuse of the traveling path.  

Crouching small and still as I could beneath an overhang but well above the bit of trash and water, with my blade drawn and hand ready for a bloom of light if necessary, I remained quiet and biting my lip and fiercely denying the temptation to look and see whether any in the passing convoy were Drow I might be able to fuck.  It would be too reckless, I'd been lucky to survive the last time...




Subterrane Ch. 02



The squeak and clank of rolling metal wheels stabbed at my sensitive ears; I even felt the vibrations.  One lumbering cart, the padding of many feet, likely lizard mounts.  I imagined svirfneblins, the Underdark gnomes, were responsible for the construction of the cart, even if none were present.  Almost certain that trade was their purpose for treading this path and I had no purpose for obstructing them.  It was a necessary function within the City; it was not in my plans—current or projected—to disrupt that.

*Just go.  Leave.  Leave me be.*

Despite my tremors and increasingly lurid thoughts, I remained as I was, and none of those above me got the sudden inclination to investigate the gutter.  Slowly the sound vanished far ahead of me and I bit down on a whine of need.

*Thank Lolth for small favors.  The whore.*

I climbed back out onto the path and continued as well, very jumpy lest I either catch up to the group ahead or another should come behind me.  I had to get off this path!

Soon enough, I finally recognized, I would see one of the entrances into the deep, wide cavern that contained my home.  It would gradually widen until the ceiling disappeared from view and wider areas of underground farming would reveal itself long before the lights of the City did.

Sentries were set that post, waiting.  I would not likely get past them unquestioned; likely the cart and the lizard mounts would be there as well.  

It would be a bad idea to risk it; I couldn't trust my own actions or words.  I started watching for side tunnels or crawl spaces.  I found a few; two were dens I wouldn't enter, another only led to a pit and a dead end, and a fourth turned into a crevasse far too tight to continue.  

I began to think there was no way into the great cavern except through the sentries...but as I stared at the pool I'd found in a fifth passageway, I startled a small, white amphibian, which jumped into it and swam down to the bottom, not very deep.

The current I could see seemed to beckon me; the frog's shadow disappeared beneath the rock and my sensitive eyes could detect new current and movement caused not only by the animal's exit...but its entrance into a wider body of water.  I had to be right; my instincts flared with recognition even through the lust.  Now was it big enough for a Drow and short enough not to run out of air?  Was it small enough to keep larger predators out?

I removed the cloak which would only risk an inconvenient snag underwater.  The remaining Duergar bar probably wouldn't survive either, but it tasted like offal mixed with grease and ash anyway.  The blade and the belt would come but I had to loop the belt across my chest, not around my waist.  And the waterskin?  I wanted something to refill, I wanted to keep it...but now I was entering the nation of Drow, and did I really want a Duergar possession on me?  It would lead to questions and suspicion....

Perhaps I would find another, and in any case, I would be much closer to water from now on than I had been.

Damnit...that logic also said the belt had to go.  Damn!  Well...what better way to return than only that which I'd been left in the first place?

The cloak, belt, skin pouch, and food were smashed into as tiny of a crack as I could force them, using a stone to mash and wedge them in; removing them—if they were ever found by something walking on two legs—would be a chore.

I settled down into the pool slowly, tepid water creeping up to my middle, and my hand not holding my blade found the opening beneath water that I sought.  I would fit, but it would be close. Backing out if the way closed to tightly for me to get through would be the only option if it came to it.

I think this is one of the phobias I knew about in another at Court: to get stuck in a water-filled underground tunnel and drown there, one's lifeless body floating, swelling with water, and rotting.  A true possibility here, but not a phobia of mine, fortunate for me.

I waited for a while longer, even began stroking myself under water to climax at least once before taking this risk.  Why wait?  Well, I knew the frog had to breathe; I wanted to see if it would come back out.  It wasn't a certainty for me that I could pass through even if it didn't return, but it was an indication there was air on the other side, or in the middle in a pocket nonetheless.

I clenched my teeth, kept quiet as water swirled around my frantic fingers, as I felt release sweep through me.  It did not help any more than I'd expected, but it felt good, and anyway the frog had not reappeared by the time I caught my breath.  It was time; I drew ever deeper breaths, filling my blood and my lungs with air before submerging.

Dark vision underwater does not work quite as well as normal; depth perception was the first thing torn asunder by the chaotic liquid, which also disrupted the energy of the rock shaping and containing it.  There were no real shapes to see, unless it was big, solid, and close.  I kept my eyes open for the instance of that sudden, detectable movement but used mostly my hands to feel and pull my way through the tunnel.  Kicking my feet helped a little but not as much when my heel would knock against the wall or my knee would get scraped.

I thought that had been the most annoying part about it until I had to squeeze through a section so reduced that it scraped my nipples and the point of my House dagger was caught between rocks.  For a paralyzing moment, I thought I would have to choose between leaving it here or drowning trying to get it loose.  Fortunately it came loose a moment after the thought.

This was so much fun.

My lungs were burning by now but I kept my focus forward, starting to pump my legs despite the tight quarters.  There was more light and energy ahead, I could see it even as my vision was darkening from lack of air.  In any case, I had already gone too far to be able to back out so I either found an air pocket the frog had used or I found...

The other side.

My head broke the water at last and I sucked in the most painful breath I could remember.  I made it!  Immediately I looked around me.  Had I been discovered?  There had been no subtle, quiet way to come out from beneath the pool like that...

I saw deliberate construction forming the boundaries for this pool; it was a reservoir, a smaller version of the type I'd seen in the agriculture districts.  No one stood on its banks at the moment.

Perfect.  I was inside the great cavern and on the outskirts of the City and not yet seen by sentries or anyone else—except for the white frog, which sat like a skipping stone on the bank and again leaped into the water when I spied it.  I smiled.  Useful creatures, those frogs.

I crawled on my belly up the bank to see what was over it.  As I expected, it was a fairly flat parcel of space, cultivating various mushrooms, softly glowing lichens, and the particular flora that supported Drow and other life.  My eyes rather skimmed over the few bodies who worked the field—they were not Drow but slaves—then my heart seized a moment when I saw one of my own.

I felt no fear of discovery.  The shock to my system was a throaty, primal demand; a call for indulgence, not avoidance.  Oh, Lolth, I wanted him so badly.  He was so beautiful, he certainly wasn't a soldier or warrior, and I didn't care to whom he belonged.  My cunt began to ache right then and there on the muddy bank of the pool.

The Drow was dressed in simple, rough silk made of two pieces, one which covered his torse folded across his abdomen, cinched with a belt, and the other a wrap at his hips which fell to his knees.  His calves were lovely and his feet elegantly wrapped in light-colored leather.  He wore a few choice pieces of jewelry, nothing much, but I could see metal at one ear and a circlet around his throat, a band around one bare arm—even at this distance I could see them shine.  As I traced my eyes back up, I noted fine hands and smooth, lean arms, long, white hair drawn back and plaited, and an attractive, refined face.

He was more than acceptable.  I would have him, more than once.  I would welcome the feeling of his sperm filling my snatch, then running down my legs, cleansing me of my last coupling...

I could barely wait until he'd gone back inside of one of the smaller, outer structures that likely housed supplies and a few animals.  A grey haze seemed to cover my eyes as I lay poised and aching, raunchy images of all the various things I would do to that delicious body dominating my thoughts.

I moved in a full sprint as soon as the door to the small storage area was closed for three full seconds.  At the very least, I could capture him coming out and force him back inside.  Or, better yet, I could surprise him inside.

A few small, four-legged and furry chattel looked at me disinterestedly as I passed, and I had my hand on the latch almost before I knew it.  I let myself inside and closed the door behind me, panting hard, my teeth showing in a very wide smile.

He heard me, of course, even though I'd not been an utter clove-footed oaf, and he spun around.  His eyes widened in stark alarm, and I could imagine why. He saw a naked she-Drow, just that bit taller than he was and much stronger, covered in scrapes and cuts with a blade held in her hand, dripping wet and streaked with mud.  Poised to leap at him...and smiling.

He didn't speak or ask me anything; he immediately dove for a farm tool he could use in his defense.

The farmer wanted to protect his virtue.  How cute.

My long dagger blocked the sickle he'd drawn down from the wall and turned on me, and with a flick of my wrist, it flipped out of his hand.  I snatched the wrist of that offending hand and gave it a twist, making him cry out.  With another twist, he fell to his knees grimacing.

"Don't do this," he groaned.

"Quiet," I growled.  "This'll be better if you don't fight."

"You don't understand—"

"Also better if you don't speak."  

A pity, that.  He had a lovely voice.

"Please!" he said, his expression frightened about something that might or might not have been me.

Maybe I cared a little bit about that distinction, but my cunt certainly didn't.

"Shut up."  I flicked his ear to see him flinch.  "Take down your hair."

When he hesitated, I reached to pull the band from the tail of his braid, running my fingers through silky hair as the plaiting began to unravel.  He kept his one hand clamped to his thigh as I held his wrist, and with a growl I grabbed hold of his hair by the roots as well and gave it a jerk.

"Finish it.  Take down your hair."

He winced and slowly reached up with one hand to rather clumsily comb out the rest of the braiding until his hair flowed freely down his back.

"Beautiful," I grinned, jerking his head back to tilt up his chin so I could take his mouth.  He tasted clean and fragrant, erotic and sensual like a prized consort, but he did not respond in kind to the kiss.

It wouldn't matter here very soon.

I looked around the shack and didn't see much room or comfort among the tools and stables.  I did see braided leather thongs that would be immensely useful.  I freed his wrist and I took two of the coils to loop on one shoulder as I kept a tight hold on his hair.  He cradled one hand in the other.

"Is there anyone back at the house?" I asked.

He stayed silent and pursed his lips, looking at me defiantly.  I kept his gaze, and when it didn't waver, I kneeled to caress what I was most interested in through his silk, squeezing gently but not without unspoken threat.  His eyes widened again and he looked nervous and fearful again.

I smiled.  "Is that a no?"

"No," he said ambiguously, his mouth quirking in a bit of smugness.

I shrugged.

Still holding him by his hair, my grip renewed, I dragged him from the structure and toward the larger, main dwelling farther away from the reservoir.  He tried once to break free and I rewarded his insolence with a sharp strike to his gut that left him on the ground and unable to breathe for a few moments.

I asked him again as I waited, "Is there anyone at the house?"

"No," he answered again, but this time it sounded like an answer.

He could be a very good liar, of course, but I had watched him and this place for a while, even if not under my most focused attention.  This was one of the smallest and quietest outposts of agriculture I'd ever witnessed.  Even if the darkness hadn't precluded seeing to the very end of the farm without carefully placed lights, I was willing to bet it was a fair distance to the next neighbor.  The few slaves present were still out in the fields, still working and not intervening in Drow business, if they even saw us.

I was going on instinct on this one that he was the only Drow here.  One Drow, even a male one, would be able to control the few other living beings here.  It was not a big place.

That he was alone in this outpost likely meant he'd been assigned or banished here.  He was fair game.

I continued dragging him once he could breathe again.  He was just docile enough to keep my lust in check as we approached the home along the elaborately cobbled walkway that protected his pretty feet from the dirt. 

I knew he hadn't fully given in yet, that he was biding his time.  I would have been disappointed if he had.  I needed to mate, and he would be delectable, I'd ride him into exhaustion...but I still wanted to enjoy the challenge of earning his total surrender.  Having spirit was good, preferred against the alternative.  Those that preferred the cold fish, in my opinion, were only uncertain of their own ability to dominate. 

	He tried again to reason with me after he'd obeyed my instruction to open the door for us.  "I don't know who you are but I can tell you are no commoner, Lady.  Believe me, there will be consequences—"

	I laughed as I dragged him inside.  "There always are."



Subterrane Ch. 03



Author's Notes: This story is erotic fantasy written by Etaski. I reserve the right to be listed as the author of this story, wherever it is posted. If found posted anywhere except Literotica.com with this note attached, this story is posted without my permission. © Etaski 2011

This story is continued. 

******

The farmer's dwelling was furnished very comfortably with all the basics I'd expect of a small plantation. A few fine quality furniture pieces accented with objects of art caught my eye, as did the handful of paintings and mirrors that led from the kitchen where we'd entered into the hall and the rest of the house. They were very nice gifts from someone.

From where we stood, I could see us in one of the farther mirrors at an angle. I looked exactly as I was: a dirty, disheveled, nude warrior half-mad with lust, damp hair flat to my head, my hand still gripping the glossy white hair of a beautiful, modest, and ultimately submissive conquest.

It vaguely pricked at my pride, but might not have made a difference if my eyes hadn't landed on the dwarf's bite mark on my shoulder.

I remembered then that I sought healing draughts as I stole back into the City. Surely...I could be clear of the taint from my body—especially that bite—and even be clean and beautiful as well when I ravaged this gorgeous, solitary farmer.

When I brought him over to one of the very solid pieces of furniture in the kitchen—the polished granite table—and tried to bend him over it, he fought me fiercely.

"No. No!" he said again as he struggled.

It took holding him, kicking one ankle hard enough to make it slip on the polish stone floor, and pinning him to the table to get him under control, but he still strained and thrashed. It was only when I used a nerve point against him that he stopped and went still, unable to scream for the pain as I kept the pressure on.

"Are you going to behave?" I asked.

He managed a faltering nod.

"Are you?"

Again a nod, this one more urgent.

When I eased the pressure, he sucked in a breath and moaned loudly, blinking out the tears which had formed in his eyes.

"Answer this, then. Do you have healing potion in this house?"

He nodded and mumbled, "Within the cabinet on the far left, top shelf. In a drop bottle."

I used one of the leather thongs to lash his wrists together in front of him, then tether him tightly to the granite legs of the table, his arms stretched tight and straight. I kept the spare for later; he could kick but he wouldn't hit anything as long as I stayed to the side.

Inside the cabinet was a bottle shaped like a tear drop, exactly as he said. I took it down and drew my blade, standing next to the table with his arms in front of me. He twisted his head to look at me and I smiled at him.

"Pray you aren't lying."

I drew a small cut across his forearm with my blade and he blurted a cry more of disbelief and dread than pain. Then I took the stopper between my teeth and tugged it out, holding the open mouth of the bottle above his open wound.

I watched him. He returned a scowl but stayed very still, protesting nothing and with not a speck of fear or uncertainty in his face. It told me what I wanted to know.

I let some of the potion dribble onto his wound and he flinched. We both watched the cut close up again, healing completely and leaving only a small streak of blood behind.

"Potent," I commented, taking the stopper from my mouth. "What's the dosage for fatigue and topical injuries?"

"Two spoonfuls," he said grudgingly.

I took in a small mouthful straight from the bottle, made a face as it was fairly bitter, but soon felt the glow of magic inside me. It was warm and diffused through me in soothing tendrils, easing all my sore muscles and making my skin itch as it began erasing the evidence of my altercations.

Excellent.

I set the bottle back in the cupboard and sheathed my blade before setting it and the leather thong on a counter. A small tub of water that was awaiting some sort of wash at the deep sink at least allowed me to wipe the mud from my body as well. I felt much better and somehow hotter, even more in need...

I picked up a round, hard root from a basket, tested its firmness and size, and nodded. My captive started breathing more quickly again as I approached him.

"No, please listen to me, if my Mistre—" he began just before I stuffed the root into his mouth, forcing his jaws wider and filling his mouth so he wouldn't be able to talk.

I tore a strip of silk from his waist wrap to tie around the root and behind his head, holding it in place. He made muffled, desperate sounds, shaking his head as I stood behind him and lifted his wrap to bunch it at his hips. I stroked his legs and bare buttocks, admiring their shape, and reached around to test his member, not surprised to find it completely flaccid.

That was okay. This was why males had nut glands. First you penetrated him, and then he could penetrate you like a good drone.

He only hurt himself trying to deny me entrance at the ring between his buttocks and he did manage a glancing kick at my knee. I growled, took hold of his hair again and jerked his head back until he was bowing tight as an archer's pull.

I hissed in his ear, then licked it. "Nice little show. Now think about how much of this you want visible to others. I'll bet it's not in your own interest."

His breathing was still quick but he kept his eyes closed, and when I slowly caressed his ass again, eventually dipping into his crevasse, he tensed but didn't thrash or kick again. I took it that, on his second thought, he didn't want to be marked up. I could oblige that; I only needed to fuck him, not punish him.

A handy bottle of oil—the kitchen was a nice location for this part—not only made it impossible for him to stop my fingers but also eased the soreness he'd brought on himself. He writhed and squirmed as I worked him like the stud anyone would say he was, his hair spread over his back and moving with him.

I combed his hair and caressed him, talked soft and encouraging as I did to him the same which I'd done to the wizard with his cock in my mouth. I honestly was more gentle on my captive, though. I didn't want to force an ejaculation this time, I only wanted to stimulate his member into swelling up firm enough for my purposes.

It was working, too; his breathing was getting ragged though he still shook his head in denial, and he moaned even through the root in his mouth as I withdrew and entered him again and again with my fingers. The moans got louder, more despairing, when I reached around with my other hand and stroked him.

Lolth, at last! I found him erect and ready for me.

I literally just flipped him over from his stomach onto his back, which twisted his arms a bit above his head, then lifted him so his backside rested on the table. I climbed up as well, blocking his attempt to curl and get his knees in the way, shoving them down and his wrap farther up. Finally I straddled him.

I was shuddering and gasping by now, hardly in control of myself as I reached to aim him at my pulsing slit. Moisture was not a problem; I smeared it all over the head and squeezed him right into my hungry channel without pause as a wordless, hoarse sound escaped him.

Bright lights flashed behind my eyes at merely sitting on him, taking all of him in that first stroke; it made me scream at the ceiling. My body was wracked by spasms as I grunted in pleasure over the farmer and experienced the strongest peak I could remember in quite a while. Better than those divinely forced with the Duergar, better than those I'd forced on my own in the trials.

This time I was on top. I was getting it how I wanted it.

I almost didn't recognize the sound behind me at first, but I knew the exact instant that something looped around my neck that the sound had been the door opening.

*Oh, Lolth damn it.*

Someone tightened a strap at my throat and forcibly dragged me backwards off of the pole I'd had up my twat. The violence of my reaction would have shocked me if I'd been in my right mind.

As it was, I screamed again, but unintelligibly and in pure rage as I vaulted up again off the ground so quickly, striking her in the jaw with my fist, that she lost her grip on the strap and staggered backward as it fell to the side.

My House dagger was still on the counter and that fact may have saved my life. I could be lethal with just my hands, but I was still naked and my opponent was fully dressed and armed to the teeth. She blocked most of my strikes aimed at her head and throat and all of them that tried to snatch one of her weapons. Then she swept my feet out from under me.

I could swear my vision turned pure red as I rolled, got up, and charged again. This was not like me...I was not in control, I was not thinking—!

The interloper was ready for me; she turned slightly and connected a well-placed kick to my head and I went down, stunned. In that time, she tied my hands behind my back and my ankles to my hands, perhaps with the same leather thong I'd set aside. I made a sound halfway between a moan and a growl, blinking blearily toward the table where there was movement.

I could presume she had removed the root from my farmer's mouth as she asked quietly, "Did you release inside her, even once?"

"N-no, Red Sister," he gasped, answering in an entirely submissive and obedient tone which I hadn't thought him capable. "I...she had only just begun."

It was quiet for a moment and I pulled at the restraints as I thought viciously, *To the Abyss with just beginning, I need to finish!*

"Let me go!" I demanded in a deadly voice, and the male body lashed to the table flinched, but the Red Sister didn't even acknowledge me.

Instead she cut the male free and he rolled off the table, pulling down his wrap to cover himself, and fell to his knees, fairly trembling as he kept his eyes on the floor.

"You will tell your Mistress nothing of this," she said.

"Nothing happened, Red Sister," he answered immediately. "Today was as uneventful as the last."

He sounded like he believed it.

The Red Sister collected my dagger from the counter, attached it to her belt, and then came to collect me from the floor. I thrashed and struggled indignantly, gnashing my teeth and snarling in frustration. I could feel her soft leather armor and odd tools against my bare skin as she carried me outside.

There was a lizard mount waiting with saddle and bridle, and the elite assassin threw me belly-down over the back of the animal before mounting up just behind me. Her arm pressed me down firmly when I arched my back, preventing me from squirming my way off. As my ankles were still tied to my wrists, that would not have been a smart move anyway.

The lizard started moving, spine bending and swaying side to side as it carried us away. Soon I was more focused as the ridge of the mount's back pressed into me; it made it difficult to breathe. I tried to look over my shoulder but the Sister would just turn my head back toward the passing ground. I could see her long black boots, though, and wondered at my urge to rub my cheek against them.

"You remember that you're fertile now, don't you?" she asked finally, and I decided I hadn't heard her voice before.

I bit down on my lip rather than start spewing expletives at her. Of course I remembered, that was why I was acting this way! That one orgasm had helped but I still needed more!

"You simply can't catch right now," she continued.

"And if I do?" I asked caustically.

"For one, you would force a decision not in your hands that you might not like. Do you really want the details?"

I scowled at the ground, but was silent. Actually, no, I didn't want details right then.

"For another...the particular would-be sire you attacked was a poor choice."

"He looked fine to me," I sneered.

"Yes, I agree, very fine. So fine, in fact, that if you were of clear mind, would it occur to you to wonder why there was a circlet around his neck with a crest on it?"

I was quiet again. I'd noticed the circlet. I hadn't noticed any crest. "Which House?"

"Not just the House, Sirana. The crest. D'Verin's standard. But with the round belly silhouette."

My stomach went a little cold.

"Fffuuuuckk," I hissed as my heart pounded harder all of a sudden.

The Red Sister chuckled. She knew I'd just violated one of the Bred Consorts. This was not nearly as high of a crime as attacking any female Drow during childbirth, of which the Priestesses and the Valsharess herself always took notice, but it was still a stiffly punishable offense.

The Bred Consorts, supported mostly by the Priesthood although loaned or gifted to certain Houses at times, were kept for their physical perfection. Taking one—and moreover becoming pregnant by one without permission—was one of the most sensational thefts a Drow could attempt.

"What was he...doing out there alone?" I asked.

"It was his time of solitude and worship," the Red Sister answered easily. "The land plot is D'Verin, he is theirs for the time being. Normally—normally—no one is foolish enough to bother them so they don't send along bodyguards, which defeats the purpose of solitude."

When I said nothing, the Red Sister continued to poke at me. "You'd have carried a tremendously sought after line. I think D'Shea would lose you to the fangs of the Driders, though, after you gave birth. No telling whether D'Verin would get the child or whether she would be raised by the Priestesses."

I ground my teeth at her words; she was right, of course.

"I see..." I began, peeling back my lips from my teeth in a facsimile of a smile—even if she couldn't see it. "Are you saying you saved my life?"

"We both know I did, Sirana."

Meaning she would want something in return, sooner or later.

"And how did you just *happen* to be in the right place at the right time?" I asked with very little grace.

She laughed softly. "I was far too late, as far as I'm concerned. We've been watching you. I was on guard for when you should gave approached or tried to get around the sentries. When you were overdue at the waypoint, it took a while to determine where you'd gone to. I had to commandeer this mount from a caravan to get here in time."

The same caravan that had passed me, I supposed. But my stomach heated up a little in anxiety. "Watching me...for how long?"

She was silent a moment, but answered, "From half a cycle out, when we knew for certain you were coming back."

"Why not claim you've been watching every moment from the place you left me?" I snarled, trying to cover my relief at the answer. "How would I know?"

"You'll find out we number less than fifty, Sirana. Think about it."

I did, even with my cunt buzzing and slowing my thoughts down. Too many possible directions to watch, perhaps, not enough eyes; the area became exponentially larger the farther out one went.

There was the possibility of scrying, linked to a focus-object—the House blade left me being the most likely culprit—but usually that took a fully-trained Priestess or wizard to accomplish. Furthermore, maintaining the scry continuously for that many hours would be severely taxing...and the Red Sisters would have to allow an outsider intimate knowledge of their doings.

Perhaps this Sister was indeed telling the truth.

If that was true, then they hadn't witnessed my encounter with the Duergar and wouldn't have seen the bite mark because of the cloak I'd stolen covering it. I may have seriously tripped up with the Consort, for they would know all about that, but I still had one more important secret still safe from the Sisters.

"Where are you taking me?" I finally asked.

"Somewhere more comfortable."

That gave me thought to pause.

"Why?"

"No demons but us, Sirana."

I didn't like the sound of that.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning...you can repay me. While you're still in heat, you'd best stick to the Sisters. We can fuck you three ways from Aorson until the effects of the ritual wear off. I, for one, will be most happy to."

Meaning that it would wear off? I felt such relief in that moment before the rest of it sank in. She was going to fuck me...?

"Wait...what?" I turned my head to look at her again and this time she let me. My eyes widened. "...Gaelan?"

The youngest Red Sister that I'd seen thus far grinned at me and caressed my naked backside, then gave me a sharp slap which made me jerk on the saddle. It sparked and fanned my arousal in an instant, just that one smack, and I groaned. Her gloved hand caressed me some more and slipped oh-so-briefly between my thighs, where I garbled an encouragement before she withdrew quickly and slapped my other cheek.

My nipples tightened against the saddle as I gasped for breath. "Don't tease me..."

"Why not?"

Her hand slid down my back and over my bottom, and this time her fingers slipped right between my netherlips and into my soggy sex. I stiffened and immediately found myself trying to hump back but she withdrew her hand again, leaving me empty, my hands able to grab at nothing.

"Oh Lolth..." I moaned in agony.

"Will you repay me in kind, Sirana? I think you owe me."

My teeth gritted. I wanted to say yes, yes to anything. "In kind...meaning...?"

"Well..." Her hand returned to my crotch. "You know what my mouth is like...here," she flicked my clitoris and I cried out. "And you know what it feels like...here," she plunged two fingers into my slit and I thrashed very much like the Consort had before she withdrew. "And...mostly especially here."

She pressed a finger straight into my anus and held it there as I strained, unable to be still. The fact that she wouldn't move it inside me was torturous; I was very, very close to climaxing.

"I want to know how your mouth feels."

"Please...please," I begged.

Even if it had been the wizard and not Gaelan, I still would have begged. That was how much difference the fertility ritual, and the recent interruption, was having on me.

"Will you repay me in kind, Sirana?"

"Yes...yes," I gasped.

"If I were to have the means to satisfy your cravings, would you submit to anything I told you?"

"Yes!" I cried, angry for having lost the climax, for having fallen back from the edge. "What d-do you want?"

"Quite a lot."

Gaelan urged the lizard mount to climb at one point, and I tensed as I waited to roll off, but she held me tightly against her, one arm clasped about my waist as I was pressed into her warm belly and thighs. We never turned upside-down or vertical, so for the most part Gaelan could keep me in place.

Discomfort slowly started to overtake my arousal—the position in which I was tied in addition to having my head hanging toward the ground for the last quarter hour took its toll, and I moaned softly in pain when jostled.

Eventually I became aware of us entering a cave just big enough for Gaelan to lean down, covering me cross-ways as her chin got closer to the body of the lizard, and slide on in. It was deep; it was a long time before Gaelan could sit up straight again, but finally she stopped the mount and got off, tethering the lazy-eyed animal to a post near the entrance.

I heard her drawing a blade and tensed before realizing she had just severed my bonds. She gave me plenty of time to unfold my legs and try to bring my arms forward, but I still would have fallen off if she hadn't caught me and set me to the ground.

I studied her face. More fine-boned than some, her large eyes tilted slightly upward, her cheeks high and her nose on the short side but wider at the nostril. Her lips were fuller than mine, her chin strong enough, and I saw the swollen spot where I'd managed to strike her jaw. Her hair was tied up in a very tight braid and curled in a bun at her nape.




Subterrane Ch. 03



She began rubbing the circulation back into my limbs, which hurt almost as much as just before they had gone numb.

"Shh, don't be too loud," she said as I made it known I hurt. "It's unlikely this far away and this deep, but not impossible someone could hear us. It's not an unknown place."

I made no reply, but I was watching her as pins and needles swept through my calves. Her face was still expressive, unlike many of the older Drow, and she looked eager, smug, and just a bit greedy.

Given our bargain yet to be played out, I was hardly baffled. I was wondering, though, how I was going to react to this. The rage I'd experienced the first time Gaelan had touched me intimately wasn't there, and didn't seem to be threatening. It was...gone. I knew what my body wanted, needed, but I could not really know how this would turn out in the end.

Submitting to every request the youngest Red Sister asked until this affliction wore off? What did that make me, the group's powerless fuck-toy, no better than a slave? For how long? Was it a mistake from which I'd never be able to recover any standing?

After Gaelan was finished massaging my calves, she ran her hand up my thigh, cupping my mound and I flinched, gulping down an "Oh!" as it flared to life again.

She chuckled and pointed farther back into the cavern. "Go to the chaise."

I blinked and turned my head. She was right; there was a chaise back there, plus a few other seats against the stone wall. The chamber also contained a small fountain built into the stone. The pieces looked to be set up as a place from which to watch whatever might be happening in the middle, which was a clear space but with a few convenient chains hanging down, bolted into the rock above. It was then that I recognized several familiar devices and contraptions pushed along the opposite side from the furniture.

"This is an interrogation room," I murmured.

"Still more comfortable than bare stone or farmers' mud, wouldn't you say? And much more private."

She had me there.

"Go to the chaise," she repeated, and I figured I could count on one hand the number of times she'd let me get away with making her repeat herself.

She hadn't said how to get there, though, so I made a true effort to stand and walk there. She took the opportunity to touch me as I first rolled and got stiffly to all fours, however, tugging on my fur a second before dipping a finger inside my pussy and I gasped and lost track of what I was doing for a moment. I stayed on all fours, waiting for more.

With a firm pat to my rump leaving a wet fingerprint, she encouraged me to move forward. "Go on."

I had to crawl for the first little ways but eventually got unsteadily to my feet. She didn't stop me, just paced me, standing behind where I could not see her without turning—though I didn't dare turn. When I reached the lounge, I stood there looking at it. Now what?

Gaelan came into my view by standing at the head of the chaise and she gestured. "On your hands and knees, but facing me, not the wall."

That would mean I should take to the foot of the chaise opposite her. I got down slowly on all fours with my knees not quite at the edge and positioned myself facing her. The velvet material was cool and a bit dusty, but soft and infinitely preferable to the hard stone. My sex pulsed in anticipation, as if I could expect someone to step up and satisfy me from behind...but that was not likely, was it? Gaelan was not the right gender for that.

Perhaps if she *couldn't* actually satisfy my cravings like she claimed, then I did not have to submit to everything she said. That was the bargain, wasn't it?

The Red Sister smiled widely again. "Splitting hairs already, Sirana? Your face gives away your thoughts as much as mine does. And in any case, don't worry, Elder D'Shea is always prepared."

What did she have to do with this? And my face was not that easy to read!

"Oh, is she?" I gave Gaelan an extremely annoyed expression. "Is this clear enough?"

"Quite." She laughed aloud, a sound that briefly echoed in the chamber before she stifled it, bringing her gloved knuckles up to her lips. "You want to know what I mean about D'Shea being prepared."

I smiled sweetly in a resounding, if sarcastic, "yes, please."

"Don't worry, I'll make it so clear you won't ever forget."

I watched a Red Sister disarm and undress herself. I should have been paying rapt attention to every detail, every piece she took off, as it was information few had and I wanted to be able to use it, to know what to expect. Cloak, satchel, gloves, bracers, belt of pouches, weapons, small vials...

However my position with the cool air on my empty sex, along with my insatiate hungers, were not allowing me as much focus as I wanted...particularly when she got to the leather boots, tugging them off slowly and sensually to reveal long, ebony legs. It got worse when she began unbuckling the red leather armor, peeling off pieces to reveal either more skin or dark, soft, form-fitting articles that protected against chafing, which then were also removed.

Gaelan took down her hair, too, removed it from the severe braid, and it was much longer than it had looked. It flowed white and soft, matching the tuft between her legs. She was beautiful but looked like a warrior and an assassin, even naked, standing with a poised grace that mimicked the very Spider Lady we worshiped: light on one's feet, defined muscles slightly tense and coiled, always ready to pounce.

She smiled. "Shall I show you more?"

Show me...what? For one, I couldn't remember what she'd been supposedly showing me, other than her body which I could not help but admire. For another, the blood was draining out of my head and I panted softly in impatient readiness, tremors starting to show in my arms.

"All you can," I ground out, figuring she'd go at exactly her own pace and not a bit faster.

She leaned down them to pluck up a small leather satchel from her pile of belongings. What she pulled from that satchel made me blink and stare; I wasn't even sure what I was looking at.

It looked like a long, curved false phallus that female Drow might use between each other, the one with it meant to serve the other. It flopped and waved with a very realistic weight to it so it wasn't just polished wood or marble. It was the right color for Drow flesh as well, and I swallowed, my thoughts and disgust clearly showing on my face.

Gaelan laughed again, sitting on the edge of the chaise facing me, her legs wide apart where I could see her in all her glory. "No, no, Sirana. It's not a body part. It's a magical device. Such fine craftsmanship, no? Here, watch."

I watched with wide eyes as she fit one end of the phallus into her sex with a pleasured sigh, then stroked and molded the very real-looking erection to conform to her body. She murmured a soft word, and immediately something magical was plucking at the edge of my senses.

There was a shimmer similar to that in an illusion before it connected to her, anchoring itself in what looked to be a very solid fashion. It didn't so much appear as though she were suddenly male; there were no testicles and I could still trace the ridge back to the part that was lodged inside her body and her pussy visibly wrapped around it. However, she needed no strap or halter to hold it in place. She lifted both hands in the air with flare and grinned, sporting a very proud and satisfactory cock.

Oh, Lolth, I was at once unbearably excited and scared out of my mind. Her fingers or tongue were never going to be enough to satisfy me, I knew deep down, so I'd been sure she would leave me unfulfilled. But she now had the primary weapon to make me submit in every way while Lolth's passion was bearing down on me...

I understood at Court that, normally, the female wearing the phallus was submissive to the other, who usually rode it. This was because the female with the false erection rarely ever got near the satisfaction in sensation that the dominant female did. She, and her pleasure, came second.

I was not so certain here; that "magical device" looked like it was pleasuring Gaelan by just being inside her. Her eyes were lazy and at half width, her mouth was relaxed and the lips swollen. Her posture clearly indicated that she was not the "bottom" between us, even being the one to wear the cock. She was looking for a place to spear with that thing, and my body would likely open itself to her and be grateful.

Like the two males dominating my body in the chamber...I was going to take that piece in whatever way pleased this Red Sister most and not have much say about it.

Continued...



Subterrane Ch. 04



Keenly I felt the flip in the roles as I stared at Gaelan and her phallus.  The confusion on my part and the urge to resist, to defend my standing warred with my body's desire as I quivered and froze up.  My cunt flexed once, hungrily, to what I was seeing before my eyes.  It looked so real, and I wanted it. 

"Seeing as how your mouth is already open, Sirana..."  Gaelan snickered as she braced herself and slid toward me along the lounge, settling in front of me on her knees and placing her hand on the back of my head.

I didn't need the explicit command; I understood.  Up close her erection still looked quite real and I turned my head slightly before letting her slip the "magical device" between my lips.  The texture was accurate, though the taste remained a bit sterile as I swirled my tongue around it.  I was shocked to hear Gaelan moan, to feel her shudder in my mouth.

*She can't possibly feel it as a male did...?*

I'd never even heard of such a device!  I could already see it being highly coveted and sought after, as I knew the false phalluses, no matter the material or the price, often fell so short of the real thing.  One would never feel the tip of the damned thing.

If this item was not common knowledge...who did know about it?  Who made it?  It was so real, I could almost imagine I was sucking on that Bred Consort instead instead of Gaelan's phallus.

"Ohhh, that's it," she whispered, "you're talented, Sirana.  I knew you would be.  I watched Cloyan's expressions at the altar... as she had your face trapped between her thighs.  I believe she came twice."

I couldn't say that I'd noticed, given the circumstances at the time.

"I want you to service me like that as well...later...but first," she reached below me and cupped my breasts, squeezing them, then the nipples, and I groaned loudly around her shaft.  She lodged it deeper at the back of my throat, holding it there.  "First...I think you need to be bred, isn't that right?"

I couldn't breathe with how far she'd pushed it in, and she still had hold of my nipples.  My eyes squeezed shut and I started to tremble with sensation and air deprivation.  I touched her thigh, pleading, and she withdrew so I could suck in a breath.  Her phallus was glistening with saliva.

"I said, isn't that right?"

I blinked tears back as I absorbed the question.  My pussy answered in a loud trill of sensation through my body before I even got my tongue working.  "Yes...yes, Sister.  I need to be bred."

"Over and over," she said, "until it is as though every male at Court has run himself through one of your holes."

"Yes."

"Until you are soaked with sweat, and your holes are gaping and sore."

I nodded, a flare of uncontrollable heat scorching me on the inside.  I gritted my teeth but still said,  "Yes.  I need that."

"Tell me you want to be bred as you were just recently, rutted and dominated with your face pressed to the ground."

I felt a deep flush burn into my cheeks, and she chuckled at my expression and took firm hold of my hair to guide me back onto her erection.  I was gagged and silenced as effectively as if a root had been jammed into my mouth.  Apparently she didn't need me to answer that time.

"Do you realize you haven't even worn proper clothes since that last party where you were still a Noble, Sirana?" she taunted me.  "You've been naked, and used, and your body has been ours since then.  And it will continue to be ours from this day forward."

A flash of both denial and anticipation swept through me and I garbled something as she thrust her cock deep inside with a groan of her own.

"It will be better if you just accept this, Sirana," Gaelan cooed.  "You will be the youngest Sister, just as I have been before you.  Every one of us will sample you, at least once, and likely after Lolth's Threshold has worn off for you.  No Red Sister who has survived through the training to earn her uniform has avoided this.  You have to earn your place."

Was she trying to frighten me?  See if I would break at this revelation, this sentence?  If I would try to fight?

I coughed when she dragged the black, magical prick from my throat and I stayed still as she slid off the chaise to step around behind me.  I trembled as she got close enough that I could feel her heat and fairly shuddered as her hands touched my haunches.  My breath shook and I ached for her to penetrate me in spite of what she'd told me, in spite of how this usually worked between two females.

The one with the strap-on was going to dominate me, she'd be on top.  How different was that...?

"You already know what you have to do, Sirana," Gaelan said quietly.

I arched my back in answer, presenting myself and even widening my legs for her, opening myself up for her choice of when and how.  The formerly-youngest Red Sister took hold of my shoulders, wedged her pole between my cheeks, and chose first to breed me up the ass.

I cried out as she pressed firmly, inexorably widening the ring and squeezing her cock into me before holding still with it lodged inside.  I could feel myself trembling around her, adjusting quickly as possible, my eyes wide but staring sightless at the fabric of the chaise as I shuddered again.  It had hurt fiercely at first, and yet it felt so good now.

I waited for her to move; she took her time, languished in my backside until I squirmed against her; finally she withdrew slowly and then pressed back in.  The sensation caused my eyes to roll back in my head.  Oh, I wanted nothing more than to stay kneeling and be plowed.

I chirped in excitement as she pumped me again, and at last I came within the first minute, screaming, "Yes!...oh fuck, Lolth, yes!"

"Yes.  Remember this, Sirana," Gaelan's voice shook with passion.  "It won't be the last time a Red Sister takes you this way.  Keep chirping the way you are.  Say my name.  Say who is strumming your body like an instrument."

I gasped, mute for a moment, but when she paused and pulled out half-way I answered hurriedly, "Gaelan...Gaelan!"

She thrust back inside me and I shrieked in ecstasy.

Gaelan voiced some very appealing sounds herself as she fucked me through several peaks, adding lubricant scooped from my own body by her hand as I knelt helpless, not wanting to move for the pleasure.  At one point my shoulders were even down on the lounge, one side of my face pressed to it—just as it had been back in the many-candled chamber—the Red Sister kneeling behind me, driving into me.  I think I drooled onto the velvet. 

*More, please...more...*

At one point Gaelan withdrew from me and took a break to go bathe herself at the fountain while I stayed as I was, feeling my anus twitch and wink and quiver.  I listened to her splashing water as I caught my breath and squirmed a little at the continued aching need.  The clear head, perhaps, did not come so immediately without semen...

I was just as glad for it to continue as I was afraid that I'd be broken before I had any clarity back. 

Gaelan caressed me from buttock to the back of my neck when she returned, smelling less of sex than I did and more of clean water.  She tugged on my hair to get me to lift my head again and fed her eternal erection back into my mouth.

"Clean enough?" she chuckled, and I nodded.  She'd been thorough; there was no aftertaste.

Pulling back out, she pushed my shoulders to roll me onto my back and lifted my legs up before spreading them wide.  She instructed me to hold them that way, then she pierced my slit and began abusing that next.  I could not speak for the sensations stampeding over me, though I made plenty of noise.

"Be thankful it was me who found you first, Sirana," she gasped, looking down at my eyes as she pounded at my swollen sex.  "Some have not been so lucky...instead to be captured first by a much... older Sister with no particular liking for D'Shea, to whom we both belong."  

Gaelan panted to catch her breath as the magical cock made such wet, arousing sounds between us.  "Elder Rausery... she tries to break every new member...she will have you at some point, but you'll know it's just part of the ritual."

I could only nod; on some level I did understand the wealth of information she was giving me and was listening to her.  Somehow I understood that D'Shea must have provided as much resource and advantage as she possibly could to Gaelan in her search for me in the Underdark.

But I still writhed and moaned beneath Gaelan like the insatiable breeder I was at that moment.  She'd been fucking me for hours by now, and she took every opportunity she could to make me aware of just how out of control I was.  She wanted me to remember it.

I was so very sore but didn't I want her to stop...

She did stop finally, at a time when I was being less responsive to the fucking; she vacated my body and murmured the release word to get the device to let go of her so she could remove it.  She took the time to clean it properly and ultimately stow it away in her satchel, and I honestly wasn't sure if that was a relief or a disappointment.

Next the young Red Sister got on all fours as well, her rump facing toward me and her knees wide, and I blinked.

"You promised you'd repay me in kind, Sirana," Gaelan said, looking over her shoulder at me.

She was presenting herself so elegantly yet so submissive that I almost couldn't believe she had been the one fucking the raw Abyss out of me just moments ago.  Her hips swayed seductively and she said, "Make me climax with your mouth.  Touch me however you want, any way you want."

Granted, I was tired and wondered why she waited so long only to make the demand now, but I knew I must give it my best effort.  I crawled forward and started licking her as tenderly as I remembered she'd done me, in a haze of fatigue and lingering lust that made her requests very easy to accept and follow.

She instructed me on how best to serve her, said that she enjoyed deep exploration and feather-light touches.  I was fascinated in spite of myself when she asked me—asked, not commanded—if I would use two fingers, then three...then four.

Even in my haze, I saw her own training—the way she was training me—in the way she moved, presented herself...and took as much as I was curious enough to give.

The little breaths and puffs of air as she made, the moans and little cries so aroused me again that I became more enthusiastic despite my exhaustion.  I was inspired to lie on my back between her knees and lift my face to her sex, my mouth closing on her nub even with my hand still moving inside her.  

I felt an unfamiliar pleasure and satisfaction when she climaxed, as my face was further marked by her as her sex fluttered and became wetter.  I stopped and slowly withdrew, licking my lips as she lay down, breathing hard.

In the following quiet, I realized my mind was beginning to clear at last. 

So I had...enjoyed that she'd peaked?  I couldn't recall even one time with my sisters where I'd been content in the other's climax.  Then, it had only meant that it was over, finally over.

This feeling, hearing Gaelan's relaxed sigh, was...new.

Would I enjoy it again, later?  After Lolth's Threshold was gone...?

Gaelan sat up suddenly, looking alarmed at the entry way to this cavern and I tensed.  Speaking no words, she took my shoulders and pressed down to keep me on my back where she next squatted over my face and mashed her sex against my mouth.  She reached to twist my left nipple and I emitted a muffled cry of pain.

She demanded in a whisper, "Keep licking me. And whatever you do, Sirana...Do.  Not.  Fight.  Obey.  Don't speak.  Trust me."

*Trust...?  Is she serious?  Don't fight?  I can't possibly—I will determine my own—*

"It's up to you."

Gaelan was moaning and grinding atop me as I heard several sets of boots enter the chamber.  There was laughter and a hoot or two and they soon approached us.

"So, here you are, Gaelan.  A little anxious to get off the bottom rung, are you?" said a deeper voice that I also didn't recognize.  "Is she broken in for us yet?"

The speaker took firm hold of my ankle and jerked me out from under the young Red Sister, drawing a particularly wet slide across my forehead.

I had to make my choice right then.  Did I believe Gaelan or not?  Would submission help me more now or hurt me in the long run?  She hadn't needed to tell me about Elder Rausery or D'Shea...but she could also be lying, a well-planted thought either suggested by or in defiance of Elder D'Shea. 

On the other hand, she'd already had that rare magical item in her possession...and she'd indulged me in private with everything I wanted before she had removed it and presented me with her own true sex to service.  It could easily have gone much differently.

Meanwhile, I was surrounded by four other Red Sisters, and the speaker was probing with her fingers and little grace between my legs; it hurt.  I felt a flash of anger.

*Stop it!*

However I made my choice when one other Sister tried to do the same to Gaelan—simply because she was unclothed like me—and Gaelan locked eyes with her, aggression and hostility almost boiling over in a few moments before the other Sister stepped back.

I made my choice.  She was telling the truth.  Now she was the one who would have to fight for her standing, now that I had taken her place on the bottom rung...

"By the Valsharess, look how raw she is!" the speaker laughed, first pulling my ankle vertical to help spread my legs so the other three could see, then changing her mind and letting me go, kicking me in the hip.  "Come.  Show them."

Somehow I managed not to glance at Gaelan and instead simply obeyed.  I rose up off the floor—when more than one hand covered a hilt, I noticed—and turned my back to them, bending at the waist to grab my ankles, exactly like in the diamond of the secret chamber where the Red Sisters had tested me.

There seemed to be a subtle relaxation in the air, and I felt a few hands both curious and assumptive caressing and exploring my backside, my legs, my various orifices...  I winced a few times but stayed put and kept quiet.

The leader of this pack stepped in front of me then and said, "Look up."

I turned my head and did so slowly, watching as she removed her belt pouch and weapons to hand to the Sister beside her, then she unlaced her leather trousers, opening and pushing them down to her upper thighs.  I saw a subtle design of a web traced into her pubic thatch, and that kept me staring for a moment before she caressed herself and got my attention by flicking my ear.

"Come.  On your knees.  Or must I demand every step?"

I more than understood the unspoken threat and released my ankles to kneel down on the stone.  I scooted forward and I felt her fingers thread into my hair.  She widened her stance a little more and I leaned forward first to kiss the smooth, puffy lips, then to flick my tongue against them, bathing them in warmth, before outright sucking on them.  Her moist heat smelled and tasted of what I could expect—sweat and leather, but mostly a strong female musk that was unmistakable, less like Gaelan but more like Juarinia's had been.

It didn't smell so bad as I remembered; I could almost call it fragrant.

"Oo, not a novice, I see," the leader commented, pushing more firmly against my mouth and gathering up my hair to fist at the back, presumably so the others could watch me with my nose pressing into her hair, and my lips, tongue, and jaw working obediently to stimulate her. 

I looked up a few times, glimpsing a heavier jaw and wide mouth, a long and straight nose and eyes not as big as Gaelan's beneath exquisitely arched, white eyebrows.  Her forehead was more prominent and her plaited bun wasn't at the base of her bead but at the crest, at the very top.

"Nice work, Gaelan," she continued, her low voice even more husky now.  "You didn't have to whip her much?"

"No, Jaunda," my former companion replied.  "The ritual, remember?"

"Ah yes, of course.  Fortunate for her.  Get dressed, Gaelan.  You've got until I've finished smearing her face."

My face was already smeared from Gaelan's "work," but Jaunda was well on her way to adding a second coating.  She didn't guide me verbally as much as Gaelan had; she used her hands and hips more to take advantage than wanting my participation beyond a convenient tongue.  Nonetheless, I participated anyway, as much as I could.

"Put back...the lash, Kiren," Jaunda grunted, her next breath quavering.  "She's doing fine...and the Prime's still waiting."

"Aw.  Fine, hm?  When is it my turn?"

"Later," the leader growled, her fist tightening in my hair and her sex grinding more aggressively against me, mashing my lips against my teeth, bruising them as I tried to avoid cutting them.  I tried to think of something to help push her to the edge sooner.

I took a chance and lightly placed my palm against Jauna's inner thigh, and waited.  When there was no protest and she seemed comfortable with it being there, I slid up further to caress her sex on the outside.

She groaned loudly.  "Good girl...good."

I took it that I could penetrate her, and I did more gently than she'd done me.  Her muscles inside flexed and she growled happily, moving more energetically and rising to that vocal peak we both wanted as I stroked her inside as well as out.

I was startled, however, when she literally squirted on me, spraying a clear, tasteless, hot fluid in a surprising amount which covered my cheeks and dripped down my chin and throat between my breasts.  Part of it also anointed my shoulders and spattered my breasts directly; another bit went down my throat and up my nose.

I swallowed what I could but couldn't prevent coughing.  Jaunda stepped back to let me bend over and clear my air pipe, laughing deep and loud in amusement.

"Yes, that always happens the first time."  She sounded immensely proud.

I nodded but kept quiet, feeling more clear-headed than ever before.  The fluid chilled quickly on my skin just like semen tended to do.  I wondered if it would grow tacky and then, once dry, start to flake as well?

"Alright.  Gaelan?  Ah, good, you're ready.  Let's go."

They put a black bag over my head, secured all my hair inside it, and tied me down on the lizard mount that still waited patiently at the entrance.  I was sitting in the saddle correctly this time, but my wrists and ankles were tied to the body of the animal; it was just easier to lie down on it than to try to sit up and hunched over especially since now I couldn't see, and indeed, all my senses except perhaps the sixth one were hindered by the bag.

What didn't they want me to see or know?  Was I still to be tested further after all this?  Or...maybe it was that, since I was the only naked one and the Red Sisters all had on their uniforms, they didn't want onlookers peering too closely at me?  This was one of their secret initiations, wasn't it...?

I was convinced that the reason for the black bag was the latter when I overheard public comments as we finally, after a long ride with minimal talking, entered more populated areas.  I was presumed to be a prisoner, and once Jaunda even affirmed it for one curious wannabe Matron.

"I'm sure she deserves the Wrath of the Valsharess's elite, Sister," the onlooker said imperiously.  "Give her three lashes for me!"

I felt markedly better when I heard Juanda chuckle and mutter, "Boot-licking fool," after we passed.

For their part, even though Kiren and the other Sisters had tried to poke at my vulnerable backside while we were still on the outskirts (I suppose because they were bored), in the City they kept others from doing the same.  No one was allowed to touch me or throw anything at me as some apprehended fugitives were known to suffer at public hands.  Each one who tried was soundly dissuaded, and Jaunda merely said it was for the Valsharess to judge and decide.  No one questioned her.




Subterrane Ch. 04



I reflected that none of them had called me by name except for Gaelan.  I could smell both Gaelan and Jaunda on my skin constantly, now that their marks had dried on my face trapped inside cloth.  I was still not on the "inside" of the Sisters, but I was being protected, if only to save me for themselves.  

It finally occurred to me to wonder...did failed trainees remain slaves to the Red Sisters, used such as they obviously wanted to use me, as they were unable to be released after seeing so many secrets?  Or did they save themselves the trouble and potential rebellion and just kill them after having their fun?

I wouldn't find out personally, I promised myself in the darkness of the bag.  As far as I knew, I hadn't failed yet.

Eventually I was unlashed from the lizard mount and dragged off, still blinded by the bag.  They carried me indoors somewhere, perhaps disheveled even worse than when they'd carried me out I don't know how long ago.

Several doors opened and closed; I counted those and the turns, but wasn't sure what good it might do me.  Boots clapped more loudly on the dressed basalt, I think because now they wanted to make noise, and finally someone tapped on hollow stone.

"Enter."

The door opened and I was shoved so forcefully forward that I could do nothing but fall hard to the ground with a grunt.  A pack and a weapon I heard were set down on a wooden table to the left, then I heard the door close a moment later.  I stayed right where I was and said nothing.

The silence continued for a very uncomfortable time; from straining my senses I knew there was only one other Drow breathing in this smaller chamber, and there were a few candles glowing and emitting heat.  She would be watching me, but who, and why?

I was determined to wait her out, and I stayed as I lay, curled on my side on the floor.

At long last, I heard a soft laugh.  "Either Gaelan accomplished her mission in a starlet spread, or they cut your tongue out beneath that bag."

My heart surged and energy diffused through me as I recognized the voice.  Elder D'Shea.

"Remove the bag and let me see you."

I gingerly tugged at the drawstring beneath my jaw, loosening it, and finally table to take a clean breath of air as I lifted the makeshift mask off my head.  I blinked hard, my eyes protesting to the candles after so long outside of the City.  I looked at Elder D'Shea.

She was dressed not in her Red Sister uniform but in a comfortable and soft-looking robe that showed her form well, deep purple in color but decorated with silver and red threads that formed interlocking webs in a curve that doubled back on itself.  She wore sandals not all that different from the Consort's from the "farm of solitude," and she had a golden toe ring looped around her left pinky toe.

When I looked up at her elegant, mature face, she was expressionless, hair piled atop her head in fashionable disarray.  A Death Bloom intertwined with the delicate, gold chains ran through her locks.  I knew she had to be around my own Matron's age, but that was still relatively young at perhaps five hundred, maybe a bit more.  She had reached that stage where the presence and grace was not only as natural as breathing, but potent when she locked gazes with you, as she was doing now.

She smiled benevolently.  "Did you enjoy your outing, Blue Eyes?"

I almost felt like the Consort, here; better to purse one's lips defiantly and not answer at all than say what you were really thinking.

Ahh, but this wasn't starting out like the conversation we'd had back in the chamber, was it?  There, I'd said yes, that I'd enjoyed the challenges, the couplings, and would remember them fondly.  I still meant that.

These last ones—the Duergar, the Consort, Gaelan, Jaunda—in each one I'd lost a great deal of control, if not all of it, and I was not happy about it.  I was still abused and sore, still filthy, still naked, no different from the last time D'Shea had been speaking with me.  Except now my confidence—or arrogance—was not so steadfast. The more I saw, the more I realized I didn't know.

"Say something, Sirana," she said quietly.  "Anything you wish to say."

I paused for a heartbeat.  "What do I have to avoid to become a Red Sister?"

Her white brows raised in mild amusement but she seemed pleased with the question.  "First tell me how you came to be here.  I will answer your question."

My eyes shifted as I considered what to say, and how.  Lying was second nature but then I had to know whether it would even do any good here.  She'd get the whole story from the others at any time she wanted—certainly including the Bred Consort, but hopefully less the Duergar.  Still...I realized I wasn't used to making completely truthful reports, even though it seemed to be in my favor to do so here.

"I made my way back from where I'd been deposited," I began neutrally.  "It was slow travel, as the side-effects of Lolth's Threshold were...distracting."

She nodded, propping her chin lightly on her thumb, her other fingers relaxed.  "Go on."

"I did not want to face the sentries, I thought I would...attack them, in my need.  I wanted to see how close I could get to the Palace without discovery.  Without meeting anyone."

"Ambitious."  She looked skeptical about the attainability of that goal.  "Dangerous, too."

I could see that now, I supposed; no telling who might have taken advantage of my state had I continued.  I made no vocal comment to it, though.  

"I found a pool that revealed a passage through the rock.  I swam through it and reached a farm without having to confront the sentries."  My heart sped up and doubt caused my skin to flush hot as I hesitated here.

"Go on," she said quietly.  "Do not lie to me, Sirana, or I can't answer your question and I can't help you."

"I...discovered a lone male Drow there," I admitted.  "As I feared...I...lost control of myself and captured him."

Her head tilted a bit, her brows drawing down.  She was displeased.  "And?"

My heart continued beating in my ears.  "I got his cock inside me, but not for long enough for him to give me his seed," I explained.

"You're absolutely sure?"

"Ask Gaelan.  She was the one who dragged me off."

D'Shea's full mouth twitched slightly.  "I would have paid to see that fight."

I found my face heating; I clearly recalled being the loser.

"Continue," she commanded softly.

"Gaelan tied me up and took me to a cave.  She used a...magical device to give herself a phallus, and...well."  I paused, unsure how to say it.

"She did as I told her to do," D'Shea finished.

"Which was what?" I challenged.

She was pleased enough to answer.  "To fuck you back to your senses."  

The older Drow chuckled when I opened then closed my mouth.  

"I can see how it worries you, Sirana.  Don't let it. The lust spells will lessen over the next few days and your energy will return to normal, faster if you do as you did with Gaelan a few more times.  Offer it to any of the Sisters, no one but the Sisters, Sirana, and certainly no males no matter how submissive, understand?  On pain of death."

"Yes, Elder," I tested, and she didn't correct me on the title.

"So then Jaunda and her pack found you both there and brought you back, is that so?" she asked.

I nodded.  "Yes, Elder."

"Did anyone else use you?"

"Jaunda.  Just my mouth."

D'Shea nodded in return.  "You have very few marks...I take it you didn't fight her?"

"No."

When I didn't elaborate further, she probed, "Instinct?"

I hesitated but answered, "Gaelan said not to.  I was following her direction."

"Good instinct, then," D'Shea said.  "Gaelan is a good observer and not as conniving as some.  Jaunda is direct as a hammer in her methods but not the cruelest I've seen because she's so predictable.  It's only when you resist that she loses her temper."

My eyes narrowed a bit just before I wanted to ask what her one-line summation of me was...but then I realized it would draw me away from my question.  "So...your answer?"

D'Shea smiled again.  "What do you have to avoid?  Becoming pregnant, for one.  For another, Elder Rausery.  Although you probably won't be able to avoid her.  Just remember that as in the trials, you cannot be permanently crippled."

She didn't even pause to give me opportunity to react to that.

"Let's see...  You should avoid offending the Valsharess or the Priesthood, deserting the Sisterhood, being more trouble than you're worth, failing to obey your superiors... There are almost too many pitfalls to name, Sirana, but I can say trust your instincts and you'll do well enough."

All common sense, and pretty vague.  I realized I hadn't been very specific myself.

"Alright, then.  What is the very next thing I have to do in order to become a Red Sister?" I asked far more deliberately.

D'Shea chuckled deeply, reaching to take a sip from a half-full glass of dark wine.  "Stay in this complex, and be tested.  Each of the Sisters will test you in her own way.  If they don't find you lacking, you'll earn a uniform.  Then we'll train you on more...specifics."

"And who will you be to me?" I asked bluntly.

"Your primary superior.  My word goes above all others for you, except for the Red Sister Prime and the Valsharess.  Although if an order does not conflict directly with my instructions, I would not defy another of a higher rank, were I you.  It will take time to rise in the Sisterhood, Sirana, but all who survive do."

I extrapolated quickly from that, and from what Gaelan had told me in the cave.  "Is Rausery a rival superior of yours?"

D'Shea tilted her head slightly, still smiling small and elegant.  "Very good.  Yes.  The Red Sisters have...'teams,' for lack of a better word.  Like in our army, there are units within the large body.  It keeps us better focused and is more efficient than if the pecking order was determined on a straight individual basis from the Prime Sister down.  

"Our primary objective is to serve and protect the Valsharess.  The Priesthood also holds some authority over us, can direct us toward known subversives and heretics, but we are also the balancing power that prevents the Priesthood from dominating the Chosen on our throne.  Checks and balances, or you can imagine how the power structure would change every fortnight otherwise."

I nodded.  Then I had to ask.  "If I should somehow fail to earn the uniform?"

My superior's gaze settled on me as if determining whether I was having doubts.  I maintained that gaze.  I was not; I simply didn't want to be kept guessing.

"It would depend on the 'how' of the failure...but if you weren't executed, you would likely become either a slave stripped of her will, or given to the Priestesses to be transformed into a Drider, which amounts to the same thing."

The cold chill and dread that flooded me was welcomed, in a way.  I'd guessed correctly, and it was all in line with what made the most sense to me.  I could understand this group, it was within my ability, and they were quickly becoming much less of a mystery.  Yet I wanted to explore all aspects of it, I wanted to see, and I wanted to know; I wanted to become.  It was my new purpose in living.  It was the reason I'd come back.

D'Shea stood up smoothly, setting down her wine glass and turned her back on me.  That would be all the questions she'd answer for now; she'd already been generous.  She stepped over to a lightly textured bathing tub, turning polished metal knobs that opened a broad-mouthed spout, and water began to flow out, filling the tub at a quick rate.  

Amazingly, I could detect humid heat in my nose.  A water system like this was fairly well known in the Noble Houses, but the source of the heat—if there was one—ranged anywhere from  a complex connection to a deep thermal spring to laborious fires to magically-imbued heating stones.  I could not know how this was heated, but I was suddenly hungry for a warm bath all the same.

I sat, however, as D'Shea disrobed, the purple cloth sliding smoothly down her skin as she still showed her back to me.  My eyes drifted in the direction where I'd heard a weapon be placed upon my arrival and saw my House dagger laying there.  It was within reasonable reach; D'Shea was too far away to stop me from reclaiming it.  What I would do with it...well, that was a question worth considering.

Did I suppose she was testing me?  Almost certainly.  No Drow stayed facing away from another so long if they weren't.  I stayed as I was on the floor as she removed her sandals and added some sort of ground crystal to the water.

D'Shea was naked and taking down her hair as she finally turned, and she smiled at me, amusement glinting in her copper eyes.  "Come bathe me, Sirana.  You certainly need to do so as well."

So I was to play the servant to my "direct superior."  Very well.  As Jaunda had said with no subtlety, I was on the bottom rung.

I got to my feet for the first time in a while, feeling how incredibly sore I was from everything that had happened since I'd tied up the Consort on his kitchen table and taken his healing potion.  Every muscle, every orifice; I was very stiff getting up.  

I wanted the hot bath, but no doubt D'Shea also wanted to take her turn to "sample" me before all the others did; that must have been why she asked who all had used me.  She was ranking herself.  She would be third.  

Truthfully, I didn't really look forward to it; my head and passions were still calm for the moment and I thought anything else inserted into my body couldn't possibly bring any pleasure, only pain.  I needed to heal first.

I could take it, but I wouldn't enjoy it.

The water was almost too hot as we settled down.  The heat seeped quickly into my muscles down to my bones, setting both our skins to radiating brightly despite the candles interfering with our dark vision. I groaned inwardly.  As when Gaelan had taken me, it hurt but it felt so good...whatever salt D'Shea had added to the water was also working to soothe my nether regions.

At a look from D'Shea, I took the bottle of scented soap and a large, plush cloth and began to soap her up above the waist.  She was well-formed and muscled as I was, perhaps more so, although not especially bulky.  A very few, subtle silver lines marked her black skin and I was inwardly shocked to see...scars.  

She had one scar running about finger-length along her ribcage beneath her left breast, another crossing her spine between her shoulder blades, and—when she stood up for me to scrub below her waist, I saw another drawn with the direction of the muscle on her abdomen on the right side.  That scar would likely be immediately above an ovary.

What self-empowered Drow, especially beautiful as she was, would keep scars at all if she had the choice?  Or had she?

After she'd spread her legs for me to wash her folds between her legs, which I did and rinsed in good time, I fully expected her to order me to put my mouth on her then.  I waited for the order.

She didn't give it.

The Elder sat down in the water and turned around again, telling me to wash her hair next, which I did, lingering a bit massaging her scalp and letting the wet, soapy hair run through my fingers before rinsing.  After we'd finished, she languished in the hot water and watched me as I cleaned myself head to toe more quickly.  When that was complete...we just sat in the hot water, feeling it slowly cool.

She silenced me each time I tried to ask a question, and I stopped after two when she looked vaguely annoyed.  It was quiet in her chamber as it had been in the cave where I'd woken up next to the pool.

Eventually the water was no longer pleasantly warm and we got out and I was instructed to pull the drainer.  I was next to dry her before I dried myself, and I still waited for the order to either start oral service or to present myself for her inspection.  Instead I was told to plait her lightly damp hair for her, and then do my own.

"It is late," she said lowly after I'd tied off my own braid.

She gestured toward a fairly simple but comfortable bed, barely large enough for two bodies.  The hot bath had relaxed me and after my journey I knew I was exhausted enough to fall into reverie very shortly after climbing into a bed like that.  Would she command me to perform for an hour or so before I could sleep?

At my hesitation, she gestured again.  "Get in."

Very well.

I settled in, waiting, expecting.  D'Shea simply lay down and relaxed.

Within a short but dragging time of me trying to keep myself awake despite the soft bed sucking the very will out of me to do so, despite me still expecting...something!...I got to a point where I was almost certain D'Shea was deep in reverie.

Asleep.

The relief of not having my privates probed further did not last long; my mind wandered to more familiar matters immediately, no matter if it made sense right now.  There was a weapon just on the other side of the room.  There was nothing stopping me from taking it, using it, or even leaving the room or snooping around her chambers for more information, for interesting tools or substances.  To gain knowledge and secrets and that edge.

Nothing to stop me except for consequences, of course.

Would it not be very short-sighted of me to think I could get away with direct action inside Elder D'Shea's own chambers?  How did I really know what kind of protection she might have in place?  I didn't.  

I reminded myself how it had been the right choice that I had kept no possessions that would have forced me to explain meeting the Duergar, that I was fortunate to evade that line of questioning for now.  And if I acted that short-sighted, wouldn't it be fitting that they want to find out what else I was up to, or knew?  I know I would.

No demons but them, yes, and they were not finished testing me by a far reach.

I wanted to be one of them.  D'Shea had told me so much of the order already, surely she didn't see a point to kill me in my sleep.  I was not used to trusting anytime that I was safe, but I slowly relaxed, nude next to my superior, deciding to do nothing, to take no supposed "advantage."  

Undoubtedly this was a test as well.

D'Shea was not afraid of me or anything my mind, already pushed to its limits, might come up with; she was confident enough to sleep.  There was likely good reason.  

I resolved to stop thinking and scheming for one night.  Just tonight.

The next moment, my reverie took hold of me while it could.


********

Author's Note: 

No self-respecting fantasy writer would stop here, so in case you're wondering, yes, there will be a third story arch (already in the works).  

I will not be picking up immediately where we left off, however, as that would probably be repetitive. The next story will begin some time later; Sirana will have her uniform, and certain other characters from the first story will reappear.  Hope to see you then!