9 comments/  108457 views/  81 favorites

Sufferance 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 2012

Sirana's story continues here from "Sisterhood" and "Subterrane." While there will still be plenty of the darker sexual themes, I wanted to focus more on story going forward, and showing more about this incarnation of Drow and of the Red Sisters.

As before, my goal is that you need not have read the previous two stories to understand this one--but knowing the backstory in more than summary might be more enjoyable. :)

Thank you for reading.



*************

Chapter 1



"Who are you watching, Thall?"

Reluctantly I turned my gaze away from the cliff and from practice drills taking place down below us and toward the quiet whisper. I tried to focus on Jaunda as my eyes switched from the vision in light to deeper shadows. I could still tell she was smiling. 

She was a ranking Red Sister known simply as a Lead, who answered directly to an Elder, and she was one of my primary trainers. Other than being a Sister, I didn't have a specific rank myself. Almost in response to that, Jaunda had taken to calling me by my former House's name, Thalluen. Later she'd truncated it quite intentionally, perhaps as a joke or perhaps to test my reaction—it sounded so much like a reference to magical slavery with which we Drow were quite familiar.

I hadn't had a reaction; that would have been unwise and I'd overcome impulsive violence in reaction to name-calling years ago. But if one name was as good as another, then she was just as pleased to use it as I was neutral to hear it.



The important thing now was that I answered to it, but only from her. She understood it to be deference to her rank; I understood that she liked having a pet name for me which no one else used. Thus, it made me "one of hers."

She didn't have to know that we did not agree on this.

Elder D'Shea had been correct about Jaunda, however; she was straightforward and easy to predict though not lacking in brains. She was also physically more powerful than most other Red Sisters, indeed most other female Drow, and delighted in knowing all the smallest jabs which caused the most pain. She was nothing if not tenacious with a grudge, preferring a hundred smaller paybacks to one or two larger strikes, and like so many of us she had a long memory. I'd heard, but had not seen, however, that if one threatened her outright, triggered her legendary temper, she would only stop short of killing another Sister. Anyone else would be dead.

I had come to realize that she was a good example of the Red Sisters as a whole; a larger-than-normal appetite for brutal testing both physical and mental, for endurance, and for dominance that took any number of forms, far from the least of which was sex. 

To me it made sense and set the bar over which to try to leap, though I knew the majority of Nobles really didn't want this type of physical threat in their own Houses or even between rivals, certainly not the ruling females. If their bodies were their own temples in their minds, they didn't want them desecrated, violated. That was only supposed to happen to underlings, males, and slaves.

It provided me insight as to why the very first tests of any potential candidate were sexual, whether they could withstand a rape by a Draegloth and male Drow and recover quickly, before facing some other test of something they feared... and only _then_ pushing them out into the wilderness to press their bodies to the limit. Why waste the time testing a warrior's physical prowess if their mind broke at the first violation?

It made Jaunda and the other Sisters very interesting to me in spite of myself, in spite of everything they had done to me thus far.

Some of their responses I'd seen day to day...small paybacks in the time and manner of one's own choosing was something I could understand. For Jaunda, they were nearly all physical retribution translated into mental, and after a while, I observed that the pain avoidance would become pure reflex in those she targeted and a visible warning to others. 

I understood this well—my eldest, deceased sister could make me flinch on numerous occasions with a motion—and I had taken steps to avoid having such a "trained" response to Jaunda. My upbringing had made it necessary to learn more mental tricks and spiritual resilience, and I didn't tend to rate the physical as the "ultimate" payback, unless I decided to kill them. 

However I quickly learned, like some other Sisters, that Jaunda would protect her territory, and it made my initiation into the Sisterhood following my time in the wilderness a little smoother than it might have been otherwise. 

Elder Rausery had been the most painful test—many had warned me it would be—but few others cared to get Jaunda's hackles raised by dogging the youngest Sister's heels well beyond the point where they'd taken her measure and found her worthy. I let them jostle with each other and accepted the "protection" from Jaunda, for now.



It was better for the time being that I be "one of hers" and service her the way she wanted only on occasion, rather than to resist her and be caught in her web or anyone else's, to be jabbed at daily. I was still "The New One", still at the bottom, so being someone's favorite made no difference to me—except that the lessening of demanding, horny slits mashed to my face when I wasn't enduring D'Shea's lessons gave me some spare energy to observe wherever I was taken around the City. 

I had come to realize I'd been too narrow in my focus while still a Noble; I didn't know enough of what really went on outside of Court and it was a disadvantage. I didn't abide by a disadvantage once I became aware of it. Not if I could act on it.

Jaunda was showing her teeth in a smile; I could detect the dull gleam from the torchlight far below us. "Well?" she prompted.

*The army,* I replied in a silent gesture, choosing our sign language over a verbal conversation. The torchlight affected our Dark Vision, blurring our expressions slightly, but we could see each other's outlines just fine.

She gestured smartly back. *I didn't ask what. I asked who.*

Like I said, Jaunda wasn't lacking in brains.

*No one specific.*

*Of course.* She might have smirked, but the tilt to her head told me she was waiting for more.

I looked back down at the drills. Good quality armor, gleaming weapons, surprising grace and a lack of wasted effort that I wouldn't have guessed such a large group of Drow could attain. There existed all-female units, of course, but also a fair number of all-male. They tended to keep them separate, for good reason.

The one below us was all-male.

Jaunda watched me a little longer then tapped my shoulder to gain my attention again. *You are searching for someone.*

I smiled without showing my teeth. *I am.*

*You won't find him here, the soldier from your trials.*

Jaunda's skepticism caused me to grit my teeth a bit, though my smile stayed as it was. *Why is that?*

*Because he is not one to keep his silence.*

I thought on that, first picturing the fighter who'd been instructed to overpower me during my first trials, the pawn who had joined up with one of the wizards from the Tower in subjugating me in the secret chamber. 

Even though he'd had no choice except to force himself into my body and rut it as, under normal circumstances, no male Drow could ever hope to do and live... even though I knew perfectly well the source of that directive had been the Red Sister Prime herself, I also knew he'd enjoyed it. That alone made me want to find him and kill him, to slit his throat just as I had the Duergar I'd met in the Underdark.

I knew Jaunda had to be right however. The fighter wouldn't be free to live among the other males; he would certainly talk of the Red Sisters. Fortunate that I hadn't wasted a lot of time on this; it had just been an opportunity today, and it wasn't as though I had learned nothing new from watching our army regardless. Oh, I had.

Perhaps the Sisterhood had already killed him for me. I would have to find out.

The angry wizard who'd partnered with him would still be alive, though, and he would be at the Tower with the rest of the male magic users. That wizard had used multiple tactics, testing my will, trying to dominate me and make me ask for more of what they'd done to me. A time or two, I'd been concerned he would succeed, though ultimately he did not.  The last thing I remembered of him was the way he'd thrust into my netherhole as brutally as he could as they held me down, slamming into me over and over until he'd left his seed there. Spiteful, bitter seed.

Unlike the fighter, however, the wizard would know how to keep his mouth shut; his very training in the arts of magic all but guaranteed it. The Red Sister Prime and the Valsharess would let him live to continue studying magic as he inherently had more worth. They might even use him in such a way again if he didn't betray the Sisterhood. Perhaps I hadn't been his first "initiate" and there were other Sisters who had known him.

Yes, it should be the wizard for whom I searched anyway.

*Was he executed?* I signed to Jaunda of the fighter. I saw no reason not to try the direct route first with the most direct Red Sister. 

Unfortunately Jaunda just smiled wider and made no reply. I knew what that meant: another test.

I shook my head slowly, arching an eyebrow and whispered aloud, "I've mentioned before you're all spider-bitten sluts, haven't I?"

The elder Red Sister laughed loudly in a sudden burst, projecting her voice on purpose and causing it to bounce off the ceiling of the cavern. I noted the sudden tension and lack of focus in the unit below as a few of them looked up and saw us. One of them pointed up just as a rod cracked down on his hand for the trouble.

"You most of any of us, Thall," she purred, leaning and brushing my hair to the side. She nipped my ear then bit my neck. Not only did I let her do this but felt a genuine stab of pleasure when she did. 

What did I think of that? Well, it was better than the alternative.

"Come," she said, and I followed.

I'd been well-tested so far, but still had a lot to learn.

******

The Palace and Court were positioned on a rise to look down on the rest of the City; it was both symbolism and practicality. Grand, lovely architecture of smooth stone rose up to mimic the massive stalagmites of the Underdark, built with sweat and magic, glorified with decorated balconies and moulded windows. The dwellings possessed graceful curves, organic in nature despite the polished finish to the outside that made it difficult for anyone to climb up from the outside in their natural state. 

Within the multi-spired Palace and centered in clusters of smaller Court houses were spider gardens and Underdark groves, each decorated to the taste of their Mistress. This was where I'd spent the past fifteen years before the Sisterhood had chosen me; likely they'd been watching the whole time, from within these very walls and from viewpoints I never knew had been there.

I'd gone looking for secret passages before, in and around the Palace and the array of stately structures that made up the main population of the Court. It amazed me how little I'd found, but then I hadn't known what to look for. I did not understand how to see past the glamour set to "encourage" someone to pass over a suspiciously clean wall or to ignore the slight draft at their ankles. I knew now that I should be grateful Lolth hadn't been playful one day and allowed me to "find" one.

There were several types of wards protecting the doors to hidden passages, and I had been shown only one so far: the easiest, I was told, those leading to secret passages, and where I had only to stare as though seeing in my periphery and mutter a banal word for the switch to reveal itself.

"Best remember to disarm it as well," Jaunda had said, almost in passing, as she demonstrated.

Even with seeing past the glamour and disarming the trap, I knew the passageways still saved us time getting from point to point, and more importantly they allowed me to see behind the scenes than I ever would have as a mere Noble.

Spy slits were ubiquitous in this hive of treachery, most of them used by the Nobles or servants of Priestesses, but there was also a second maze. The brief nausea I felt passing into them suggested that we'd shifted in space, something called a "pocket dimension," I'd been told. Simply put, we had our own underground system in which to watch what went on a Court.

These tunnels were smaller than the wider, straighter passages of dressed stone that I'd seen during my escort from the initiation chamber of candles to the hidden sacrificial altar. The smell was closer and oddly sterile. There was just enough height to stand and turn around, but most martial moves would be restricted in the tight space. There were intersections, but no internal rooms or alternate doorways until one exited to the Red Sisters' quarters, and one could easily get lost in the maze long before reaching that point if they weren't supposed to be there. 

Most of our spy slits looked down into a room from a higher vantage point. One didn't have to glance in every spy slit, but I had found the temptation compelling at first. Every time I had slowed Jaunda's pace with my curiosity, however, it always resulted in some molestation on her part in the close darkness, and no matter what she did, I had to remain silent. This she made clear. Magical glyphs near each slit dampened sound, so even if my will should waver and I uttered a cry, it would still be swallowed up in thick darkness. I didn't find the experiences to my liking—too much like the early abuse of my childhood of which I literally couldn't speak for decades. Soon I found it in me to ignore the spy slits while following Jaunda...

...unless she stopped first. Then it meant she wanted me to witness something.

*Hold,* she gestured now, leaning to peer down into a slit, squinting a little and then grinning widely. She motioned for me to come closer. *As I've shown you.*

As she had "shown me" was a comfortable stance either standing or kneeling before the spy slit. I was to place naked hands upon one of two sets of glyphs, which would glow dimly once warmed by life-heat. I pulled off my gloves now, tucked them at my belt, and chose to stand, my feet comfortably placed, with my hands covering the higher set of glyphs. The hair at my nape rose slightly as I felt the magic slither over my hands and bond with them, connecting securely, unbreakably, until the release word was uttered.

I had refused to touch the Glyphs the first time, until Jaunda had explained more and told me the release word. She'd laughed but seemed pleased with my forethought. I didn't know as much magic as some, but basic survival taught me to be cautious about touching runes that sparkled in darkness without knowing more about them.

I knew now that those imbued carvings amplified my hearing and sight just enough that I would be able to hear even a whisper in that room below and to see as if looking through a viewscope. I might even be able to read a missive or map held at the right angle; I could certainly study faces in minute detail. 

My first glance now revealed that there were three individuals down below, the door was closed and probably warded. I had to study the most prominent face for I did not know it. 

She was a Priestess, no doubt, an older one with a black spider crown holding her blonde-streaked hair back and swept up into a partial scalp lock. Her gown was royal purple and cut in a classic design that I had seen often, but her silver belt was unique. The decorative end made of many tiny chains looped and draped around each other to nearly cradle her left hip in ornate shining metal against a dark backdrop. If that belt wasn't an heirloom or a status symbol, I'd swallow dwarf piss.

She sat looking dignified with her back straight, though it was in a rather small, grey, fiberstalk chair that looked more useful for its portability than its grandeur. Next to her was a small table, again made of fiberstalk, round and decorated with ritual props familiar to me thanks to a blood sister hoping to become a Priestess, though the quality here was much, much better than hers had been. 

One prop that was already being used was the black candle with the red dots marking each hour; the single candle gave enough light to see by, and allowed us to see all colors. The room itself was rather small and sparse, like an interrogation room with only the bare minimum furnishing. It seemed odd to me for a moment that an elder Priestess wouldn't be in a more comfortable room to have a meeting.

My eyes next drifted to the figure nearest her and I felt a very real shock; my mouth opened in a silent gasp as my heart seized hot for a moment before the sensation spread through the rest of me. It was Kerse, my first test during my trial; the Draegloth with whom I'd sparred and coupled with on the glassy floor of the candle chamber.



Every Priestess gave birth to one Drow-demon hybrid, conceived during her final test to become a holy guardian for Lolth. If her control of her magic and will was strong enough, she survived coitus with a member of the Abyss. Then if she survived the birthing, she had a Lolth-blessed servant for the life of her service, and her House gained power by association—though the Draegloth were by no means a popular dream among most Drow, due to their appearance. I'd known some who would rather ignore a Draegloth's presence in a room, if at all possible, status symbol or not.

Like any Draegloth, Kerse could be used for anything his mother saw fit, and though I'd never met her, she'd seen fit to loan him to the Red Sisters to test me. I'd evaded and resisted him, actually interacted with him until I had coaxed his name from him. Armed with that knowledge, I'd fucked him gleefully...and reveled in a very memorable orgasm, if the flush that speared through my body now was any indication.

Now I understood why Jaunda stopped at this slit; this had to be Kerse's mother, the one I had been warned would be unhappy with the way I had bargained a deal with her son. My deal—trading his name for a deep, willing dip into my sex—conflicted directly with his mother's own command, which had been to force-fuck me regardless of my will. It was a challenge to her authority and maybe a confusing chink in his loyalty to her.

I'd wondered once or twice before if he had been soundly punished for the mistake he made with me. I could not see any physical evidence of anything permanent. Even crouched by his dam, he was taller than her, powerful, monstrous. With black skin, yellow eyes, and a white, shaggy mane of hair that sprouted along his spine to his middle back, he possessed an ugly, toothy muzzle, bestial face, and large, intimidating talons on his strong hands. Unlike the first time I'd seen him, a simple dark green wrap circled his groin and hid his endowment from view. I was rather sorry for that.

I became aware of Jaunda standing very close behind me, too close for my peace of mind, to tell the truth. With one hand she swept my cloak to one side and slid her other hand directly between my legs, reaching around from the back. I jumped and wanted to turn, but felt her clasp her arm around my waist and tighten her grip on my sex through my leathers. The stiff leather covering her chest pressed into the same covering my back, and her mouth was right next to me ear.

"Still and silent, Thall," she hissed.


Sufferance Ch. 01



I obeyed, though my legs began to shift.

"Keep them open." She made it clear she wasn't removing her hand from my crotch until she was ready, and I was not to close my legs.

I had figured this was her intent as soon as she touched me. I was to remain helpless with my hands pressed to the Glyphs; I'd be watching this room and putting up with whatever she wanted to do in silence, until Jaunda was satisfied and ready to leave. It would be just like the times before when I could not resist stealing glances inside the rooms and was being disciplined. 

Though this time...I had been invited to look.



I felt my anger rise; I hadn't made a mistake in judgment to deserve it this time. Jaunda had recognized the Draegloth and decided to take some advantage of me. My anger felt old and tired somehow, sluggish but so similar to the anger against my abusive, late sister. All that she had done to me then I had sustained in silence as well; and now? I didn't like that Jaunda got off on this type of power. Or maybe I just didn't like her using it against me.

She began massaging me through the black leather—I'd hadn't yet earned the red uniform, but I had earned a practical one at least—and I tightened my jaw stoically and focused back into the room below me.

The other Drow in the room was bowing, on her knees before the Priestess, Kerse's mother. She was young but perhaps not as young as me, with much shorter hair; she wore a Noble's dress, cut to be loose and teasing around the torso, long to the floor from the waist, with slits on both sides from ankle to mid-thigh. One did not do any hard work wearing such a dress. It was brilliant blue, and all her jewelry was gold and platinum, accenting her wealth. I was looking for an insignia or something to tell me to which House she belonged, or for her to raise her face off the floor. Perhaps I knew her.

"Rise, Curgia," said the Priestess in an imperious alto voice, the deepness exceeded only by the Red Sister Prime. "As much as I condone prostrating for the glory of Lolth, this is thinly veiled self-indulgence. You are trying to appeal to my vanity, not to my connection with our Goddess."

Curgia—who was indeed known to me from Court, though she was very new—raised herself up straight again. She remained on her knees, no doubt thinking about the grit getting into the fine fabric as her classic copper eyes flicked downward a moment. She looked too arrogant for her own good, and from the way small strands of hair were sticking to her temples, getting on her knees hadn't been the first attempt to persuade the Priestess to give her whatever it was she sought. 

"That is not true, Priestess! I ask in all earnestness. Your recommendation of House Itlaun for the next worship ball would allow us our first opportunity in four score of years to tithe to Lolth well beyond our normal means. We only wish a chance to prove it."

"In exchange for the unlimited use of a Bred Consort."

Jaunda breathed out on my neck and pressed harder on my sex as she continued massaging me. My body was stiff as the sensation increased and even moved toward pleasurable, but I was still paying very close attention to the conversation.

The younger Drow tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "If our offering does not buy us one, then we would gladly accept him for only a term, if it pleases you."

"Lolth decides the term, not me. Only She can speak for your offering."

"Yes, but She speaks through you," Cugia replied in a testy tone. "Is there anything I could offer in advance of the auction to persuade you to recommend us?"

Kerse's mother looked briefly offended and I could guess why; Curgia was pushing a deal, a blatant transaction that had little to do with faith. Although I did not think other Houses that had been favored with Bred Consorts claimed them in a procedure much different from this, I could see that the Nobles who gained one were not nearly so clumsy in their presentation to the clergy. 

Despite the fact that my opinion of those "faith auctions" matched Curgia's, I knew it wasn't a good idea to show one's impatience and desperation to a Priestess, no matter how many hours I'd been made to stand or kneel before her. I wondered what I'd missed thus far, because not only did Kerse's mother next smile ever-so-briefly, but she relaxed her previously stiff posture. It was the same change in posture a spider takes when it knows its prey can't leave its web and has to wait for mealtime.

"Perhaps there is," she said slowly, deeply. "I require a show of faith, young Curgia. Your distinctly secular vocabulary disturbs me, but perhaps the only problem is that your merchant-bred family has gotten too used to each other, and your manners require only a bit of polish. You do have faith in your Goddess's choices, in her Valsharess and her Priestesses, am I right?"

Curgia nodded energetically, looking likewise offended at the description of her family and their manners. "Of course I have faith, Wilsirathon, Chosen of Lolth. That is why I come to you, to help place our House in the path of change. We have seen recent fortune and it's a sign from Lolth that we must pursue aggressively to get our name out there again!"

I almost winced at the lapse back into what is essentially merchant-speak for marketing. But at least now I knew Kerse's mother's title, Athon. It meant she had forgone her birthright, with the Valsharess's approval. Unlike Lelinadara—the Priestess who had tested and healed me—who was a favored daughter but not first born, this Priestess was First Born female of her House Wilsira, and would have been acting Matron if she had not had a higher calling. As it was, the second-born was Matron but the influence of the Wilsirathon on the House Rule was unavoidable. No doubt the second sister made many trips here for "discussion."

"Will you prove it to me, right now beneath the eyes of Lolth, young one?" the elder Priestess, and I saw Kerse shift then, raising his head to look at his mother with interest in his eyes.

Curgia didn't notice, or perhaps she merely refused to look at the Draegloth as so many others did, but I felt a shudder go through me in what almost seemed a premonition. I felt Jaunda's breath just before her lips closed on my earlobe and her strokes on me became slower.

"Yes, I will, Priestess. Anything." 

Jaunda chuckled low in my ear, and I finally realized how hot my crotch had become from her attention, how hot my entire body felt. She had thought my shudder was purely from her actions, and while I knew it had more to do with Kerse's suddenly intense eyes, I also felt real pleasure in her touch. My anger and resentment had dissolved into anticipation both for the "anything" Curgia might do, and what Jaunda no doubt would do.

My trainer unbuckled my belt threaded with pouches in record time, letting that fall. The sound was muffled to the softest "paff" in the passageway. Next she began unlacing the leather thongs at my hips, loosening my pants and sliding her hand down my naked flank to my nest of white fur atop my slit. I opened my mouth as her finger slid inside me, though I managed to close my throat against any sound. I usually received better treatment from her if I didn't make the Glyphs work for me in keeping the quiet, but it was all relative.

I heard my trainer sigh then, and my next epiphany was that Jaunda wasn't punishing me now as she had before. Yes, my hands were still firmly trapped on the Glyphs, muffling our noise and heightening our senses, and yes, my legs were still open as she fondled me. That was the same. But she wasn't whispering insults and jabbing into me, she wasn't using pressure points to blend any possible pleasure with pain. She was caressing my mound and merely breathing. It was exploration, not discipline.

I smiled, arched and pressed my backside against her, and heard the barest murmur of approval as she thrust her hips forward once. When she did nothing more than keep her fingers moving slowly in my twat, I took the hint to return my attention to the room.

Wilsirathon let Curgia's last word hang in the air a long time, until the Noble began to fidget again. Kerse was looking directly at her—a rather shocking display of insolence under public custom—but she still did not acknowledge he was there. I found myself hoping that Kerse would get a try at her snatch—and wouldn't she hate it if he succeeded! I felt a spike in my own arousal imagining him humping her; I'd never liked her.

"Remain on your knees," the Priestess said now, "and place your elbows on the ground. Let us take a moment of reverence for our Lady of the Web."

Curgia hesitated a little too long in my opinion, but she slowly lowered herself to rest on her elbows, still trying to look up at the Priestess. I grinned; the young Noble's hips were higher up than anything else so it was easy to imagine Wilsirathon walking behind her, lifting her dress up, and inviting Kerse to mount her. Curgia wasn't a warrior; I wondered if she would fight or just protest?

"Place your forehead on the ground."

Nothing was quick about this; I heard murmured prayers for several minutes as Curgia kept her eyes down and subtly started inching her legs together, as Kerse weaved slowly, and even I was getting impatient. What was the proof she wanted to see?

Finally the elder Priestess stood up from her chair and walked toward her worshipping trader, circling around her as I had imgined, studying her form. Kerse stayed where he was. Wilsirathon tapped her own cheek with a bejeweled finger, her expression thoughtful and bemused. I watched for sadism as well, but if it was there, it was well-hidden. How could she not love where she stood, how Curgia presented? I glanced at Kerse again and took comfort in my prediction; he did have an erection beneath that cloth.

"Is it you?" Wilsirathon asked.

"Priestess?" the younger replied in confusion.

"Who is to conceive first, should your House be so favored with a Consort? Is it you?"

I saw Curgia swallow; I wasn't sure why. If she was the one fighting hard for the purchase of a Bred Consort, then why shouldn't she enjoy the fruits first? This thought, however, brought back to me both the intense, divine orgasm when I'd first impaled myself on such a gorgeous male...and it also brought back the fact that I'd forced his participation despite his protests, taken him without permission, so desperate I'd been in divine need.

And I was tempted to swallow as well. The very concept of the Bred Consorts were a whole fungus field of potential social blunders, so far removed were they from our daily lives and so coveted was their seed. Even though I hadn't realized what he'd been when I'd violated his perfect body, I'd still committed a sin in the eyes of the Priesthood, much worse than Curgia's frank bargaining. Only the Red Sisterhood's secrecy protected me from outright punishment, I knew.

"The ball is mere cycles away, a cluster of hours" the Priestess continued. "Are you purifying yourself already to heighten your receptivity?"

"Uh—"

Kerse's mother moved quickly—surprising us both—and lifted Curgia's dress to expose her raised backside; like most of us who were well-off, she had no underclothes. The young Noble's legs were pressed together, making it hard to see her sex even if I hadn't been at a side-view angle from her anyway. But her skin was smooth and healthy, her curves softer and more fleshy than mine for being mercantile over military.

Curgia moved to rise up on her arms, perhaps to move forward, as she opened her mouth to say something.

"STAY AS YOU ARE!" Wilsirathon barked so loudly that it echoed and hurt my ears. Jaunda behind me hissed in discomfort and her fingers stopped moving inside me for a moment.

We all waited as Curgia froze then reluctantly settled down. The Priestess then leaned down and took a dignified whiff of her scent, not thrusting her nose into the Noble's crotch at all but still lifting the warm air near her skin. She stroked and patted the younger Drow's haunches before straightening herself, leaving the dress resting on her hips. I saw a spread of tiny bumps arise on Curgia's flesh and I knew she felt vulnerable.

"I can smell it," the Priestess said, walking around to the front again. "The fertility herbs, their essence seeping through your skin. You have been preparing, I daresay bathing your insides with them. So certain, are you?"

"Hopeful," the young one murmured, trying to downplay it. "Why not give it the best chance? It is my Matron's goal, I will do whatever I can to make it so."

"Indeed. Not aging well, is she? That she'd want you as the broodmare."

If there hadn't been candlelight in the room, I'd have bet that Curgia's rage would have shown like a beacon in the dark. "I was chosen, and I am loyal to my House."

"And the status means nothing to you?"

"Status means everything. That's why I'm here."

"But you have been saying you're not here primarily for yourself," the Priestess continued. "If your House were favored with a Consort, could you see another conceive first, ahead of you?"

Curgia was silent.

"I've given you much of my time, and you've said many things, Noble. I want to know if you will back them up, in the name of Lolth. If your House is worthy of my support."

The young Noble's body language began to show obvious signs of nervousness and dread; I could see her toes flex in her sandals, her chest expand more, her bottom lip tremble. "How?"

"Give up your own plans to conceive first, and I will grant my recommendation to House Itlaun at the ball."

Curgia tentatively raised her head, and when she wasn't shouted at again, she looked up at the Priestess. Her expression seemed to ask, *That's all?*

I thought she was right to be suspicious.

"You'll notice I added 'first'," Wilsirathon smiled encouragingly, still without the sadism I had fully expected to see. "You may still conceive. Doesn't that speak well for the length of the term that your House might keep the Consort?"

Curgia nodded carefully. "Yes, Priestess."

"So? Can you give up first claim, young merchant?"

The air was heavy and the merchant was obviously having trouble coming to terms with the deal. She wanted to make a counter-offer, but she wasn't in the position—literally and socially—to do so. All her usual tactics were useless and she was at a loss.

She could only agree, or refuse and leave, and House Itlaun would not have another chance at a Consort for another generation. Jaunda and I waited in near stillness for her answer. I'd been watching Kerse, too, and his interest in the exchange had not wavered; he watched and listened to everything.

"Very well," Curgia said, the bitterness loaded in her throat. "I will...give up first claim, if you will recommend my House for Lolth's Blessing at this season's ball."

The elder nodded in satisfaction. "I still require a guarantee, a show of faith, young Noble. I know merchants find ways to go back on a deal."

"It is a sacred agreement, Priestess, I would not dare!"

Lolth's Chosen finally chuckled. "And you know how well our own Lady changes her mind."

The young Drow's mouth hung open a bit as she tried to work out how the Priestess could be so zealous of her faith yet acknowledge how fickle the Goddess really was. In that time, Wilsirathon gestured to Kerse, who came forward immediately and very eagerly, crouching again beside his mother. She reached casually to untuck his groin wrap and pull it away, displaying the very first sight I'd ever had of the Draegloth: turgid and ready to couple.

Curgia's eyes found him as well and they widened considerably. She started to shake her head.

"Where is that guarantee, Curgia?" the Priestess asked quietly, and I could hear the threat in her deep voice. "Show me the faith in our agreement."

The younger Drow trembled, and I saw actual tears come to her eyes. "What guarantee do you want?"

"See to my son's need," came the reply, and it felt unfinished to me when Kerse scooted forward on all fours and crawled partly over Curgia's prone body, his erection clearly aimed at her lips as the white crown of her head brushed against his dark belly.

"Oh, this is good," Jaunda said to me, the glee evident even in a whisper, as her fingers started moving faster again as she started to grind herself against my backside.

I agreed with the sentiment, the pleasure of her touch enhanced by the view. While I'd imagined a reluctant mounting originally, Kerse thrusting into this Noble's mouth was just as good of a show.

Curgia hesitated a long time again as Kerse snuffled over her backside, rumbling low in his chest and sounding pleased as his mother watched silently. The young one was trying to find justification for willingly letting the rigid, demonic rod slip past her teeth.

*Come on, merchant, what else can you do?* I thought. *With all those fertility herbs in your blood, just be glad he isn't plundering your quim...*

The kneeling Drow must have had the same thought because she suddenly opened her mouth and took him as far as she could, actually seeming to make an effort to pleasure him. I saw a flash of pink tongue as she tilted her head, licking and swirling at him, and Kerse rumbled louder, his muscles tightening as he stretched his throat and lifted his head upward, a drop of spit falling onto her exposed buttocks.

The Draegloth humped at her throat with some restraint as he glanced twice at the Priestess. I wondered briefly if he was picking up subtle signals from her, but Jaunda was dry humping me hard with her crotch by now; it was getting distracting. I watched Kerse reach both huge hands to maul Curgia's flesh, first fumbling underneath for her covered breasts, pawing at her sides, and then moving to squeeze and knead her exposed haunches. It didn't take long before he was licking and slobbering in her crack.

I heard Curgia squeak and squeal a few times, writhing. I didn't think she was enjoying it; they were sounds of protest and distaste. I remembered the way Kerse had licked me once from nub to pucker; frankly, it hadn't been that bad.

Jaunda eased off grinding into me, her hand leaving my twat entirely as she drew back, and I left the sight of Curgia's dismay to glance back over my shoulder. 

The elder Red Sister was getting something out of her pouch before undoing her own belt to set it down near our feet. Then she loosened and pushed down her red leathers expertly and I realized she was inserting a stiff phallus into herself. 

She was going to fuck me against the wall as we watched. However many times I'd been disciplined against the wall just like this, she'd never brought out the phallus before. She reserved that for playtime.

My wet slit pulsed once in desire, aching for the penetration, but I couldn't remove my hands from the wall to push down my own pants the rest of the way. I had to wait for Jaunda's strong hands to shove them down.  She did so impatiently, kicking my ankles wider before aiming the head at my drooling nethermouth, pressing and spearing it inside me with one stroke.

I choked on a groan as the force of Jaunda's thrusts pushed me closer to the stone. Even after these couple months, after being subjected to it many times, I didn't quite understand how it was that, in just this one secretive group, the Red Sister roleplaying the weaker sex always maintained dominance and control over the coupling. It was supposed to be the other way around.

The only consistency seemed to be in the jealously-guarded phallus itself. Instead of an unfeeling, unwieldy, and all-too-fake pole, the Red Sisters would regularly use a magical one on each other. It not only became life-like and solid when temporarily bound with a Sister's body, but she could also feel the inside of her partner through it as well. She could achieve climax rather like a male did, but without the messy spurting.




Sufferance Ch. 01



Or so I'd been told. I hadn't yet experienced it firsthand; I hadn't earned the right.

I had been on the receiving end, though, over and over again and in every orifice, until I knew not to try to take back control only because I wasn't the one wearing the tool. It had been a sound lesson repeated with each thrust: the donning of a cock did not make a whit of difference to one's power and rank within the Red Sisters. Never make that assumption or mistake.

I could feel my own lubricant now, cooling on my thighs as I repositioned my head to look back through the slit, as Jaunda serviced herself and me. Kerse was thrusting harder down Curgia's throat and she was gagging more often than not; she began striking his thighs with increasing urgency, trying to get him off.

I thought I heard something, the barest whisper. I couldn't tell what was said, but then Kerse lifted his head to look at his mother and withdrew smoothly from the Noble's mouth as she coughed and sputtered, tears staining her cheeks. He moved to the side and Wilsirathon moved closer as Curgia looked up at her, her own spittle glistening on her chin.

"That is enough, then?" she gasped hopefully. "I promise to uphold—"

Her eyes bugged out as the Draegloth move behind and quickly mount her. Her legs were still together but his member was slick enough from her own mouth to drive straight into her sex whether she was open or not, and Curgia screamed in outrage. Jaunda started fucking me harder against the wall as she groaned with the sound.

"Stop him!" the Noble pleaded. "Please, I can't—"

"I will have that guarantee," the Priestess said.

"W-what? Yes, of course! I promised I will let my older sister conceive of the Consort first!"

"Of course you will. You will have no choice."

When there were no further explanation, Curgia tried to scramble away, kicking at Kerse and thus widening her legs, giving the Draegloth opportunity to strengthen his purchase on the struggling merchant and to thrust in deeper.

"Oh, Priestess, I can't...don't do this to me—"

I gritted my teeth as my Sister rammed into me harder than Kerse was into Curgia, but I still felt a sneer pull at my lips. Curgia was starting to sob.  Next she'd be pleading and bargaining. If I had still been at Court, then I'd be winning my bet right now. I had been part of the pot when she first arrived, saying that she wasn't going to last long before overreaching her bounds.

Jaunda reached around to brush my clit a few times as I watched the Draegloth open his mouth, showing sharp teeth as he snarled. His thighs and buttocks flexed as he stopped thrusting but pressed in hard, his claws pressing into her flesh without breaking it. I hit my peak as I imagined his seed spraying deep into her fertile core. Curgia wailed.

*Oh, Lolth, yes...*

That had been one difference from when I'd coupled with Kerse—one of many differences. Kerse had pulled out and sprayed my skin instead; his instructions had been to take me but not to take undue risk impregnating me. It wouldn't have made any difference if he had spewed inside; at the time, I'd been barren.

It had been telling that the Red Sisters hadn't known that. They hadn't known everything about me, they only knew enough.

"No...." Curgia moaned, swallowing another sob before looking to the mother of the monster who was just pulling out of her. "Why...?"

Wilsirathon just smiled. "He is half-Drow, Noble, conceived through ritual, part of me. He is my own. You would not think this a more holy gift than a pretty toy's spending?"

The young Drow shuddered in disgust, shaking her head, her shorter hair hiding part of her face. "I wanted—"

"I know what you wanted."

The Priestess nodded at the Draegloth, and he began to rub himself stiff again. He looked hungry enough that I didn't think it a problem to go for a second breeding, just to be sure.

"You will have to earn what you want, merchant."

I counted another three tears escaping before she replied. "Please...if there's anything I can do that will...if you will help me end it...if I should catch..."

Pleading and bargaining. I won the bet. Too bad I couldn't collect.

Jaunda bit my neck as Kerse shuffled up to mount her again. Curgia glanced back, gasped in horror and tried to move forward but the Priestess was in the way and the Draegloth soon had firm hold of her hips. I saw Wilsirathon caress herself from breast to mound in one smooth gesture through her robe before petting Kerse's mane. He was seated in Curgia again by then and moved as enthusiastically as when he'd finally been allowed to plunder my own pussy a few months ago.

Jaunda groaned and cursed, thrusting hard enough to bruise me on the inside as she climaxed, getting off on the Draegloth breeding the Noble a second time. I remained impaled and full as she came down from her high.

"She'll definitely conceive, don't you think, Thall?" My trainer had caught her breath quickly. Her lips were pressed to my ear. "Wilsirathon has her in her pocket."

I nodded, breathing deeply myself as I felt Jaunda pull her girth out of me. She wiped us both down with a pouch cloth, laced up her pants and had begun to pull up mine—all the while my hands still firm on the wall—by the time Kerse roared again, ultimately leaving Curgia's snatch as soggy as I'd wished.

We stayed a bit longer to see if there were any further discussion, but Wilsirathon made no such offer and Curgia could barely pick herself up off the floor as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. Her dress and hair were mussed but overall she didn't look too different from when she'd walked in—just like she'd been in a small room for a long time and was frazzled. The Priestess insisted that they leave. Curgia's back straightened when the door opened and the Noble tried her best to pretend that her puffy eyes wouldn't give her away.

Jaunda had stepped away from the spy slit then and I had just lifted my hand from one Glyph as Kerse moved to follow the two females out. I froze when the Draegloth slowed for a moment and looked behind him, directly at the wall which contained the slit, though I knew it was camouflaged with magic.

He smiled. Almost as if his blank, yellow eyes were looking right at me.

Then he left, the door closing behind him.

I stayed still for an extra few moments, feeling my heart delay its return to normal as I considered the possibility that Kerse had sensed us somehow. He couldn't have heard us; I hadn't said the release word yet and I was firmly connected to the Glyphs. Had he just been looking back into the room with sadistic fondness, being allowed to fuck and likely impregnate a Noble kneeling on the floor? I couldn't know for sure...unless I saw him face-to-face again.

Most Red Sisters had teased me at one point or another about my first challenge against the Draegloth, about him giving up his name to me. All of them had so much as said that it would be a bad idea to be purposefully in the same room with Kerse and his mother. Now I had seen one reason why.

Should I tell Jaunda about the glance, or should I keep another secret? What would she even do about it? Probably just tease me more about my paranoia, and tell the other Sisters.

Jaunda tapped my shoulder and signed, *What are you waiting for?*

I hurried to finish donning my belt. *Nothing,* I signed back. *Good show.*



Sufferance Ch. 02



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 2012

This story is continued. 

*

Elder D'Shea was in the process of donning her full uniform when we were bid to enter. She had also set out a few pieces that enhanced the beauty of it, transforming it from the practical into her "dress" uniform. She would be heading out soon, likely to the Palace or something to do with the Valsharess herself.

Nevertheless, she listened to Jaunda speak about what we'd witnessed in the small meeting room, and agreed with the assessment that House Itlaun would be one to watch—not so much due to a Noble catching a Draegloth's seed, but the fact that this Priestess chose to favor Itlaun in her own way, and might be playing with their bloodline for some time to come. When Wilsirathon showed a House favor, other Priestesses and Houses would know, too, but the Red Sisters existed to find out the why. If it was not in the Valsharess's best interests...then the plot would have to be seen to in some way.

"Thank you, Jaunda," D'Shea said now, fitting a bracer exactly right. "I believe Elder Rausery was looking for additional hands; if you can present yourself and yours, see if she has need of your team."

Jaunda smirked and nodded. "Yes, D'Shea."

"But first find Gaelan and send her to me."

Again she nodded and gestured to me. I turned to follow her when our superior spoke again.

"Leave her here, Jaunda. Your team should be fully experienced today."

My trainer glanced at me with a slight tightening of her mouth but didn't argue; perhaps she would only miss having her handy snatch to bend over and plow when she needed the release. I was still tender between my legs from the spying we'd just done, but that wouldn't make a difference to her appetite.

I, on the other hand, was both annoyed and curious at being left here. Annoyed because of the old paradox: if I'm not experienced, I won't go on tougher missions, but if I don't go on tougher missions, I won't get experience. 

However I was also curious what D'Shea might say to me, or whether she would have me run an errand with Gaelan instead, or whether she had something else in mind. I noticed my superior hadn't asked me even one question about our spying, had practically ignored me as she gave Jaunda her full attention. I knew that during a report being made by a higher-ranking Sister, I was not to volunteer anything unless asked.

Jaunda made a respectful bow to D'Shea and strode out, all power and confidence as she went to collect her team, the same team who had found Gaelan and me in the cave after I had been first introduced to the magical phallus. 

I found it odd that Jaunda's team truly did seem to enjoy each other's company; certainly they enjoyed the power they possessed in numbers and having similar skills and ideas of entertainment. They were the first to test me when I'd been admitted into the Red Sisters. They had worked together even then, sharing me rather than fighting over me, as they explored every spare inch of my body and its most common responses. They had it easiest—or perhaps I had with them—for it was with them that the remaining periods of Divine Need both rose up inside me and were quenched. Even after it had worn off and I'd returned to my normal, above-average appetite, they could still make me wet.

It seemed first claims truly meant something in this Sisterhood. Elder Rausery and her lot, for example—including Qivni, my original collector—seemed mostly to act on obligation when my turn with them had come. They were not claiming me or sorting out where I fit among them, as Jaunda and the others had done, but simple testing my resilience, intelligence, or strength of will. Was I good enough to be among them? Could my appetites rival theirs, or would I be consumed by the fierce and demanding attention?

Rausery had tried to break me with pain...but was barely even irritated when she failed and turned me back over to D'Shea to heal up. Several others of lower rank merely had their fun, and a couple had scarcely spent the time necessary to penetrate me and climax themselves, as if they didn't care about my strength, perhaps knew they wouldn't be the one to break my limits, but only needed to sample me to do their part. Several of them did not even have a magical phallus of their own; they used their hands and other tools.

The only one who hadn't used me for her pleasure so far was Elder D'Shea. I'd bathed her once before we slept that first end-cycle after I'd been captured re-entering the outskirts of the City. I'd even slept in the same bed with her by invitation. It turned out to be the only period of sleep for two score of cycles that had been uninterrupted. The tests had begun immediately; endurance training while awake, and the intimate, sometimes brutal claiming of my body afterward, before I might rest. If I had known that in advance, I might have enjoyed my reverie in D'Shea's bed a little more.

I'd been expecting D'Shea eventually to take her turn, though I'd never asked about it. Perhaps it was now, as we waited for Gaelan?

"Tell me your impressions of what you saw, Sirana," D'Shea commanded quietly, motioning for me to come forward and help her don the rest of her dress uniform.

"Pretty much what Jaunda said, Elder," I responded, picking up a piece of blue ribboned metal.

"That piece goes on after this one," D'Shea said as she swapped it with another small bracket of pure mithril. Then she smirked and said skeptically, "Pretty much, but not exactly. I want to hear what you experienced. From the sound of it, you had the better view and more ability to focus as the receiver. What did Jaunda miss?"

I slowly attached the bracket before accepting the ribbon bar, working to get it level on her chest. "She missed that Curgia wanted to bargain to end the pregnancy if she caught from Kerse. Wilsirathon didn't say no. She smiled instead."

D'Shea nodded. "Chances are that one won't come to term. It's only a guarantee, as the Priestess said. She'll make the merchant sweat for a few months, but she'll grant it in the end."

I picked up another piece. "You're so sure, Elder?"

"This is not the first time she's done this," my sponsor smiled knowingly at me before pointing where this next symbol went. "Wilsira always chooses the inexperienced ones who think beautiful offspring is the easy way to power, but she's jealous of Kerse, and has never let any of his offspring live—even if the one he bred actually gave birth. More often than not, Wilsira has made another bargain to get something else she wants in exchange for an early termination. That will be the case here; Curgia does not have the will to live through the shame."

"Shame," I repeated, pondering that. "Wilsirathon commented Kerse was part of her, that his gift was more holy than the Consorts, more powerful for being of the Abyss and Lolth's Desire."

D'Shea chuckled. "In some ways, she's right. The Consorts are beautiful, but that's about it. A rare one will also have a vision ability, not unlike an oracle, but we haven't seen one of those in forty years. The last one was fought over to the extent that even the Sisterhood couldn't protect him. More trouble than they're worth when they become known."

We tightened down the final piece, and she began to direct me in how to apply the sashes so they would drape just right.

"And the Draegloth?" I asked. "What have you seen of their abilities?"

My superior's intuition, or perhaps just the sharpness of her ears, astounded me at times. She looked at me straight in the eyes then, held them, and when I didn't move but waited, she slowly smiled. "What have you seen, Sirana?"

"They can't cross certain wards, so they're magical in nature," I said.

She made a face; that was an inane answer, even I knew it. "And?"

I shook my head, not willing to give up quite yet in spite of that powerful, copper gaze. "I've only seen the same one humping two different snatches, Elder."

"I don't believe you." My gaze wavered, and she pounced. "Come now, Blue Eyes. What do you at least *think* you saw?"

I was quiet a moment then asked, "How powerful are those Glyphs at the spy slits?"

"Very," she said bluntly. "You know yourself it's impossible for your hands to slip by accident, and no Drow has senses strong enough to detect what we don't want them to detect."

"Who made the Glyphs?" I countered. "How do we know that there isn't some weakness? The Sisterhood doesn't seem to use as much magic as—"

D'Shea laughed once. Then she slapped me hard.

The echo faded and we stayed still for a few moments. When she didn't admonish me further, indeed her expression was quite peaceful, I took it that she didn't mind my thinking along those lines. She was warning me about babbling on such topics too soon. It was not the first time she had done so. In a different way, she was training me as much as Jaunda.

"What did you see Kerse do, Sirana?" she asked again, quietly enough for me to know that if I deflected the question again, there would be consequences worse than a stinging cheek.

"He stopped and... smiled behind him at the empty room. He seemed to look straight at me," I said, needing to redo one of the sashes that I'd been holding when she slapped me. "I don't know for sure that he knew I was there. I had whispered the release word and removed one hand from the Glyphs before he exited the door."

"Mistake," she said. "Don't repeat it. Always wait until they have all left." A pause. "Was the ight hand or left removed?"

"Left."

She frowned. "You're sure. And the other was still in place."

I nodded. "Yes, Elder."

"Had you moved your feet?"

"No."

"And where was Jaunda?"

"Five steps to my right, facing the wall."

She was quiet as we finished up, and I had resigned myself not to be privy to her thoughts; I so often wasn't. My cheek still stung and I decided I wouldn't have another. 

She was awe-inspiring in her dress uniform; the balance of red and black meant she would match a backing of Sisters, but the blue and gold accents made her stand out as one of our leaders. This was not something to do on a mission or in battle, but it was something to do at Court and at the Palace, before those who needed reminders to behave in the Valsharess audience.

I had thought, the first time seeing a dress uniform, that it was silly for a group of assassins. Wouldn't it be better to have us all dress the same, so no one knew exactly who was in charge? Wouldn't it add to the mystique and wonder?

The only reason I could see right now was, perhaps, that our own behavior made it impossible not to show status and power in our very air; if we were all dressed the same, then they could still tell who led. Why not, then, take advantage of an arresting image before a race obsessed with power and beauty?

"He couldn't have heard or smelled you," D'Shea said now, and I was stunned that she'd given me that. She looked at me straight again. "The only Glyph you deactivated was to enhance your own senses. All other wards were still in place. Unless you slipped your other hand without realizing?"

She raised an eyebrow and I shook my head, eye contact not wavering. "My hand did not move, Elder. I remember the grit beneath all five fingers and the magic in my palm."

Slowly she nodded; she looked to believe me.

"This isn't an ability you know of the Draegloth?" I asked cautiously.

My superior half-smiled. "Each one has a different sire. Only their mothers know what they might expect from their heritage. We watch, learn, and catalogue. I thought I knew Kerse's range pretty well. It is...disturbing that he might be able to sense through powerful wards. But we don't know that for sure."

"Would Wilsirathon know that, if he could?" I asked.

"Of course," D'Shea answered. "That's what's disturbing. She dotes on him more than most Priestesses do their sons, and he is loyal to her. She controls him and she has been using every aspect of him to her advantage for the past three centuries."

"And yet he told me his name," I commented.

She gave me a sharp look. "Do not go there, Sirana. Playing a game like coaxing a Draegloth to stray from his Priestess is dangerous. Do not think one coupling somehow gives you real sway over a creature conditioned to do anything—"

"But I did do just that," I countered. "If his conditioning was absolute, I would never have gotten his name. He would have broken my body instead and done as his mother said."

My Elder was silent a moment, her face hard. "Meaning what exactly, Blue Eyes?"

"He has more free will than she knows. She's underestimating him. He could even be hiding that strong ability from her. He waited until she'd left the room to look behind him like that."

D'Shea's mouth twitched. "Perhaps that was accidental. He knows what benefits him."

"Are you underestimating his intelligence, Elder?"

"Are you overestimating it?" she shot back. "I've been watching him and his kind for nearly my whole life. Perhaps his conditioning isn't iron clad, but he is still not capable of intricate, long-term plots, Sirana. Draegloth appetites are too immediate and they are easily distracted by short-term opportunity. His lapse with you was exactly that, a lapse brought on by distraction, by the fact that you sounded like his dam. Distraction is one thing that they *do* all have in common, and it has never changed over millennia. It is that chaotic quality in all from the Abyss."

I remained quiet, surprised my other cheek wasn't stinging by now as much as I'd been arguing, and I pondered whether she was right. She let some of the tension ease back out of her face and sighed.

"That boldness spoke well for you in the trials, Sirana," she said, "but don't pursue it beyond that. You do not have the experience to take on Wilsirathon and not end up like Curgia, with Kerse's cock wedged wherever the Priestess tells him. I have plans for you that don't include her. As your knowledge grows, so will your reach, I promise you that. Until then," she patted my sore cheek like I was a child, "don't get on the wrong side of Lolth's Chosen, and avoid their offspring if you can."

I stood uncertain for several moments. I didn't know how to feel about this, or whether to trust it. Was she claiming to champion me in some way? Was she holding out a carrot I'd never get, or was she showing me the way to real power and reward, as if she would share it with her servants?

Regardless, I knew D'Shea had the longevity and experience between us. Perhaps it was only my own paranoia that made me think Kerse was lying in wait for something, with abilities even his mother didn't know he had.

Perhaps it was the fact that my own sister had underestimated me the same way. She hadn't seen it coming.

He had smiled at me. I was...almost certain.

"Yes, Elder."

*******

Gaelan and I flanked D'Shea as we exited a back passage into a clear, candlelit hallway; the dress uniform in red and black, the pure red one, and the black one, all there for any to see. I wondered whether I stood out as much as my superior, but as the obvious trainee rather than the commander, or did the mixture of black into the dress arrangement confuse those who knew little of our inner workings? It soothed my ego to think so as we passed cautious onlookers.

D'Shea had only said one thing to us before we left: "Do not speak, and do only what I tell you."

The unspoken punishment if we embarrassed her was no doubt dire.

Gaelan had let me go in front, following D'Shea, and she pinched my ass before we left. I had jumped.

"Too tense, Sirana," my superior said without looking behind her. "Relax."

I shot a glare behind me at Gaelan, but she just winked. Her lips drew my attention as she smiled, and as I recalled them pressed soft and hot on my sex, I did relax and let my irritation go. 

Gaelan, formerly the newest Sister before I was hauled into the scene, was the only Red Sister I knew who still enjoyed receiving more than she did giving. She wouldn't allow me to use the magical phallus on her; that was forbidden. But during an encounter with her, I could take back enough power for a short time as to prevent myself from snapping and exploding in murderous rage.

It actually was a danger for me.

There had been one time when, before Jaunda had "claimed" me and I was still being tested, a gang of six over-enthusiastic Sisters wouldn't let me rest for three cycles. They were like Jaunda's team working together, but against me and I could do nothing to stop them. They took shifts to train me in the waking hours and would prevent me from slipping into reverie as they harassed me.

Eventually they left me alone, but I heard their laughter long after they'd gone. Pushed to my physical limits and without respite for too long, I'd been contemplating a suicidal attack against them, not caring at all if I became a Drider afterward. I only wanted them dead, like my blood sister.

Gaelan had found me wandering, disoriented, and had taken me somewhere private to heal.

"I wonder whether Rausery ordered this," she had murmured as she set a potion to my lips.

She had seduced me then, had given herself to me as magical strength flowed back into me. All my anger and helplessness bloomed with the strength...and she let me take it out on her. She wore the cock and submitted, and I fucked her until I'd fallen down, exhausted, and finally slept. When I woke, I had returned to my senses, realized what I had been about to do.

Make no mistake, after that episode Gaelan made me kneel and used me well with that elusive, magical tool. I was not allowed to forget my place. I'd let myself cum with her rutting me on all fours, knowing once more that she had preserved my life. 

I was fairly certain it was the same Sister's phallus I'd first been introduced to—I'd gotten to know it well—and I recalled Gaelan leaving a pouch with its approximate shape in D'Shea's quarters my first time there. It didn't seem likely to me that Gaelan was using something of D'Shea's own without her knowing about it—and approving of it.

I'd never had a defender in my life, but starting that night I suddenly had Gaelan, D'Shea, and very soon Jaunda and her group. The excessive trouble lessened, but I noticed my previous flippant Court attitude had taken so many beatings, starting with the tests in the wilderness, that I was far more serious than I'd been. More watchful and wary.

This was probably why Gaelan pinched my bottom now. "Give it enough time," her smile seemed to say, "and the confidence, the buoyant attitude will come back." I had only to look at her, to see how far she'd come. I had only to survive and my old self would come back, stronger than before.

I started to wonder when the next potential recruit might come into our midst. Would she be strong enough to take my place? How long had Gaelan had to wait for me to arrive? I had yet to ask her; D'Shea kept her plenty busy and we had not spoken even as much as we had in the cave. There had been barely enough time for me to work through the stress with her a couple of times, always ending our tryst with that life-like rod either up my ass or my cunt, or down my throat.

I still missed the real cocks, though, for their own sake. The last one had been the Consort, for all of a few seconds before I had been wrenched off of him. And prior to that...the Duergar. Not a pleasant memory. As much sex as I'd been having or had been subjected to among the Red Sisters, that primal essence was missing. I tasted no semen, none had touched me or filled me. It felt as though some part of me was celibate. Seeing Kerse today had been a pleasant surprise, believe it or not. I'd almost been jealous of Curgia, for Lolth's sake; jealous of the real semen he'd released in her. Twice.




Sufferance Ch. 02



D'Shea paused outside a chamber guarded by two literal giants, pale-skinned and of some race much stockier than an elf. They were armed and dressed for battle, but I saw no soul in their eyes. Constructs? Thralls?

"Elder Sister D'Shea," she said bluntly. "I am expected."

The giants stepped aside with neither a grunt nor a breath, and the door opened by an invisible hand. We entered a chamber filled to the brim with decoration and banner, the walls lit by just enough smokeless torchlight to display the rich purples, golds, and reds, only accented by blue and gold and black. Almost like D'Shea's uniform, I noted. The purple referred to the Priesthood, the gold the Valsharess, and the red...well, who else?

The theme of the decorations could not be missed: webs and spiders, wands and potions, swords and daggers and arrows. Everything and everywhere that we were strong. My mouth twitched when I noted the lack of any shields.

My entire expression went blank when I saw the formidable, aged Drow sitting straight-backed on the throne. The crown woven into her blonde hair was of elegant gold laced with diamond and amethyst, integrated with a few rubies. Her robes wound about her body in shining, bright bands of gold and purple, leaving her long neck, shoulders, and a hint of cleavage exposed but covering everything else from wrist to black-slippered feet. She was older than the Red Sister Prime, a few wrinkles at her eyes and the corners of her mouth visible despite an elf's magical resistance to aging, and she looked about as stern. Unlike the Red Sister Prime, however, she had no doubt been a stunning beauty in her prime. Even now her presence filled the room, drawing all eyes to "Her."

I'd been instructed on how to bow to Her upon coming to Court, though I hadn't needed to very often; only large balls or congregations where she made an appearance, and we all would bow together in a massive wave of heads. With only the three of us here and directly before her, I was a lot more conscious of my grace. I thought I did alright; a bit tense perhaps but no hesitation.

Only after that moment did I glance at the movement in my peripheral right; a notable group of robed attendants, two Priestesses I didn't know, one with her Draegloth, and several non-Drow slaves, face-down on the ground and averting their gaze.

"Our Greetings, D'Shea," the Valsharess's rich voice filled the chamber, though I'd have almost thought it either bored or tired. Or both.

D'Shea bowed more deeply and gave a longer greeting, acknowledging our Queen's power, titles, and a prayer of continued longevity. I'll admit I didn't focus on the exact words; when prayers lasted longer than three seconds and could be interchanged with pandering, I tended to start thinking about something else. Perhaps it was another result of the endless droning my late sister had done while I was on the House altar.

I nearly missed my cue when the Valsharess gestured without a response, and we stepped to the side opposite of the small entourage. D'Shea stayed beautifully still—I'm not sure how she did that—and Gaelan and I could only flank her like two statues. 

We waited long enough that the Valsharess actually sighed before the door opened again and a larger group of Red Sisters came through; Elder Rausery, Qivni, and four others I did technically know but needed a jog to my memory. Trust me, forty-something hyper-sexual pussies determined to wear out even my formidable libido really can all look alike.

I knew now that some of the stories of the Valsharess using the Red Sisters to punish a Noble or a House had to be true. And they hadn't been interested in killing me afterward. 

Elder Rausery bowed with her five as well, gave a similar greeting as D'Shea had, and stepped to the side to join us. She was close enough for me to hear her say to my superior, "Only the two starters, D'Shea?"

My superior smirked, looking straight ahead. "Spry enough to hit their mark. Were you napping?"

Rausery snorted softly. "Finding errands for your nosers. I hope you don't need them any time soon."

D'Shea didn't reply and I wasn't sure whether this was good news or not. I'd heard D'Shea instruct Jaunda to go find Rausery to "help." Perhaps that meant she had been instructed to delay her rival so we would reach the throne room first? But that also meant we didn't know where Jaunda and the others were. Was making Rausery tardy really worth it?

It did tell me something interesting...Rausery took her leadership seriously enough to task all Red Sisters who came to her, even in being late for a royal meeting. Did that make D'Shea the slacker, and Rausery the more dedicated? Was it a show of loyalty or was Rausery simply foolish and considered whatever this meeting was a waste of her time?

I supposed all that mattered was how the Valsharess interpreted it. She had sighed with impatience. D'Shea would consider that worth it.

What followed was an overview of the coming worship ball, the one Curgia had mentioned and for which the entourage on the right had been preparing for as long as I had been fucked and tested in the Red Sisters' secret cloister. I had missed a lot of what was going on in Court.

It would be a costume ball, and there would be feast and dance with fertility rituals (translated: creative sex on the altar). The season's Bred Consorts would be exchanged or re-gifted, with the introduction of any new ones coming out into society. Those new ones would be premium; new blood, new traits not yet introduced to the Houses. The details discussed now were almost excruciating in their minute fastidiousness; a lot went into these events. But all of this I already knew; I had been to a few balls at Court, for these happened every five to ten years. 

What I didn't know was that the Red Sisters were to be present but invisible, except for a handful. The visible ones were to assist the Priestesses and keep the peace, to remind the Nobles of their manners. D'Shea and Rausery had brought the handful from which the Valsharess would select the visible, and hopefully the invisible ones wouldn't be needed.

This did make me wonder why D'Shea had only brought the two of us, the two youngest. And one in black leathers, no less! Weren't we called the Red Sisters for a reason? I could only figure they would not choose me; I would not match the decorations.

The Valsharess finally did stand when she had finished with the entourage on the right, approaching us, who still stood at attention and silent. 

"Volunteers, step forward," the Queen said, and we all did except for D'Shea and Rausery.

She scrutinized each of us in turn, face impassive as she inspected the six in red leather. When she got to me, her eyes seemed to actually focus on my own. I noticed that hers were a paler tan color, like they should have been copper but had been exposed to real sunlight long ago and had faded with her immense age. The gaze was eerie and I was not especially pleased that she had noticed me in particular.

The Valsharess reached up to touch my chin, the barest touch of spun silk, almost ghostly and with a spark of magic. I felt a surge of pure fear just as I struggled to swallow my heart back down. I think sweat popped out at my temples, and my heart was pounding as it had been when I'd confessed violating a Bred Consort to D'Shea. The corner of Her mouth twitched once, the age lines more obvious this close.

"Hm," she grunted and turned away. She didn't speak until she was seated again, and even then we had to wait further long moments. "All of them. Acceptable, D'Shea and Rausery. You are dismissed."

We bowed as one—with myself being slightly behind—and left the audience hall. It was not until we'd reached a different passageway and entered through a new hidden door that either of our superiors spoke. It was Rausery who spoke first.

"Eight weeks, D'Shea," she whispered, somehow growling even then. "Not even in her reds yet."

"She is acceptable, dear Rausery, our queen said so," the other elder replied, and yes, it was smug.

"You make us look lax. You did not bring enough."

"And you brought too many. It balances."

"What game are you playing?"

D'Shea huffed a breath as a laugh. "Most present at the ball will be yours, Rausery. What is your complaint? Isn't that why you brought them, to have more eyes and ears than me?"

"Giving up so easily then?"

"You know me better than that."

Both leaders fell silent as they realized how hard we were listening to their whispers. It was quiet as we continued walking, and I shared a curious look with Gaelan, who only smiled. She couldn't see my anxiety. Then someone stepped on the heel of my boot and I glanced back.

Qivni, of course. She signed gestures as she glared. *You do not know enough. You will embarrass us.*

Tempting as it was to reply with a pictorial gesture, I signed back, *You'd better teach me quick, Collector. We have two cycles.*

For Qivni, it was never hard to call back my old confidence, even as a mask. She was easy to poke, and it was still entertaining.

We'd reached the Red Sister's cloister, seeming about to set our different ways, when Rausery stopped and stared hard at D'Shea as if trying to pierce her with her eyes. My superior stared calmly back. I was standing at her left shoulder while Gaelan was on the right, and it was only as I glanced at my elder that Rausery moved.

I knew already that she was fast, but I still wasn't used to it. Her strong hand closed tight around my forearm, holding me fast when I tried to move back and away. Next D'Shea's hand was holding my elbow, gripping not quite as hard.

"Rausery," her rival warned.

"I will prepare her. You will get her back in two cycles."

"No. I have need of her."

"You may have two of mine for the interim."

"You've sent my best team on duty I know not where. I think you owe me more than that."

Rausery seemed to grind her teeth. "Oh? How many?"

D'Shea smiled. "Thirteen should suffice."

I stared at them in disbelief. It wasn't only that D'Shea was blatantly selling me to her rival temporarily; it was also that Rausery was actually considering it, despite her flare of obvious temper at the price. Thirteen trained Red Sisters for one black novice....? Or rather, for myself and Jaunda plus Kiren, Panisha, Lawret, and Berayla. 

Even my ego didn't tell me that was a fair trade. It was double, plus one. Somehow that seemed to suit D'Shea. What would she do with thirteen Sisters for two cycles, anyway?

Rausery nodded. "Done."

My mouth opened without sound as I felt my elbow released.

"I want those five," D'Shea indicated Qivni and the others chosen for the ball, "plus your teams Three and Four."

After another moment of stern-faced glaring, Rausery nodded again. She turned and jerked her head at Qivni. "Find them."

Qivni's expression was complex. She obviously hated being traded away to D'Shea for me, was perhaps baffled why her superior wanted me so badly. At the same time, if she was genuinely worried about me embarrassing them at the ball—which seemed the case— then it wasn't to be D'Shea who prepared me, but her own superior. How could she complain?

The Collector bowed briefly to them both and left with one other Sister. Rausery started dragging me another way, and D'Shea, Gaelan, and the rest moved in the direction of her quarters. Once all others were out of sight, I could only keep up with the stubbornly fast pace; Rausery's gloved hand still gripped me hard and I was starting to feel tingles in my fingertips as we weaved through the cloister.

"What is D'Shea up to?" Rausery asked me.

"I don't know," I answered, knowing that wouldn't be good enough, even though it was the truth. Oh, this wasn't going to be a fun two cycles...

"You know more than that," she said flatly.

"No. I don't," I replied just as flat, mimicking her.

"We'll see."

*****

Elder Rausery had me in chains within one of the interrogation rooms faster than the first time she'd met me, but it was slightly better this time. Only my arms were chained, with my bracers left in place to protect my skin from the shackles. The older Drow stepped on a wooden block to raise the chain and hook it to the stone wall well above my head. My arms were not straight up but still out-stretched. While she was up there, she lit a single torch.

When she finally stepped down, shoving the block to one side with her foot, she leaned down slightly to be face-to-face with me. This was possibly the longest she had studied my face thus far, despite the hours she'd spent tormenting my body before.

"Why the sun-damned blue eyes?" she muttered, likely more to herself than me.

I replied anyway, sarcastic and snide. "Probably a Consort recessive trait." 

From what I'd heard, Rausery hadn't been a Noble before her time here; she'd clawed her way in and through the ranks of the Red Sisters. Her family would have never had the chance at a Consort, and even though no full-blooded Drow was truly ugly, she was by no means exotic, just average appeal, and around D'Shea's age with a few tiny blond streaks showing at her temples. If, of all things, my eye color irritated her, maybe I could just piss her off right away and cause her to stomp off to leave me alone for two cycles.

After beating the Abyss out of me, of course... I tensed for a hit but she only smiled, which was more like a baring of her teeth, looking down at me. She drew it out until I wavered in my tension and had to take a deeper breath, then made as if to strike me in the gut. I made a sound as I flinched and she pulled her punch at the last moment. We locked eyes again.

"Just do it, Rausery. I'll tell you I know nothing, then you'll pull out a few more of those tricks you showed me before, then I'll tell you that D'Shea did exactly what you think she did on purpose. Then you'll find out I know nothing more as you determine that I haven't been privy to D'Shea's quarters and have been elsewhere for weeks and all I know is to put on the mithril before the blue ribbon."

I blew out a defiant breath and added, "Although consider yourself invited to fist me while you're at it. You'll find as many answers groping around a womb's portal as you will at the end of that dragon of nine tails."

As I finally paused, I noticed her eyes were more crimson than copper and what I'd mistaken for simple cruelty before took on a new hue as I watched. I was at a disadvantage because I didn't know how to interpret it.

"I see I should have taken my time with you before," she said softly.

I thought she already had. I refrained from heaping more challenges on top of what I'd already launched and looked longingly at the door. She took my chin, forcing me to look at her and holding my gaze. Her other hand started tugging at the laces to my leathers on my hips.

I looked upward and breathed out, closing my eyes for a few seconds as I mentally prepared.

"Resigned?" she asked in a husky purr.

I made a poor attempt at a shrug, considering my arms. "Do what you want, Elder. It's getting predictable. Eight weeks, as you said."

Rausery nodded thoughtfully, tugging slower but still undressing me. "I remember."

"I'll buy that you remember Day Seven." 

Making noise was a requirement with her, whether or not I'd had the fortitude to undergo her test in silence. For those curious, the answer was a resounding "No." I'd demonstrated some very healthy lungs that day.

"I meant," she said slowly and deliberately, "that I remember how it was to be where you are. In your place. I daresay you are faring better than I was at eight weeks."

Sadly, I hadn't predicted this tactic. I turned my head slightly, watching her skeptically with one eye, as a lizard might. Trying to soothe and bond with me now, Elder? Oh, it was far too late for that.

We stared at each other for a while as she slowly—very slowly—removed my belt, setting it down with some care, and then continued tugging at the leather thongs at my hips. Finally Rausery did finish unlacing my pants; the air of the stone room felt cool as she pushed them down to my knees with far more deliberation than threat, squatting as she did so. She leaned forward to catch a whiff of my bush and leaned back, looking up at me.

"Jaunda," she said. "One is fortunate, I hear, to draw her interest after the first round of tests. Assuming they don't fight her."

I made no reply, though I wondered how good her memory was, or how recently she might've been privy to Jaunda's personal scent to know that. Or perhaps she couldn't smell that well and was acting, playing on an educated guess. It was hardly a secret after all.

She began unlacing my boots next; I imagined kicking her in the head, imagined catching her off-guard, because as far as I knew, fantasies didn't bear punishment as long as one didn't speak them.

But it was only a fantasy. I let her remove my left boot, then my right, raising each leg when she tapped me, like an obedient beast of burden. She removed the black stockings as well, and the stone was cold and gritty beneath my feet. She finished stripping me from the waist down, smoothing her hands up my legs as she stood back up as if studying the shape in great detail.

The Elder's hands went to the thongs holding the leather armor to my torso, yanked and pulled on those at my sides and my front and shoulders until it dropped to the ground in a cobbled piece. Then she withdrew a dagger from her belt.

I went still, holding my breath as she cut the fabric of my black shirt, first down the front to expose belly and breasts, then up the arms and around the shoulders to tear it off in strips. She even pulled so hard on the sleeves trapped beneath my bracers and the shackles, using the blade to slit pieces as it came out, that I jangled the chains and bounced around like an air chime.

She only nicked me once in the forearm, and that was because I had flinched when it had gotten too close to my eye.

Essentially naked, I scowled as Rausery studied me; she never looked at my eyes but scanned my body, her sight following her hands. She touched everywhere but my head and my crotch; she even flexed all my toes down at once, seeming to measure how much of my foot they encompassed.

What, was she a seamstress taking measurements for a new uniform? I could only hope.

"That black one doesn't fit you perfectly. It must be a hand-down," she commented.

I could honestly say that the thought had not occurred to me. Did I care who else had worn it? Maybe only in that I could imagine how often it had been stained. The magical cleaning had done its work, if that were the case.

Rausery smirked as she stood up, hands at her waist. "D'Shea say how long you were to wear it?"

I shook my head no.

"What do you think she's waiting for?"

Again I attempted to shrug. "I don't know."

"Meaning you feel you should have traded it in by now?"

"Meaning I know she's got an agenda and I'm only guessing at the answers," I answered sardonically.

"How much martial training have you received?"

Not a lot beyond what I already knew, and it was disappointing. Jaunda and Gaelan could both best me within a few moves. She could read that on my face.

"Holding you back. In favor of what?" she prodded.

Endurance. Knowledge. Politics. Secrets and how to get from here to there unseen. I could see the benefit, but it wasn't balanced in my mind when I'd been regularly overwhelmed and dominated, the only acceptable outcome the surrender of my body to invasion. I wanted to be able to fight back.

"Let me guess," Rausery said with a smile, lightly crossing her arms. "I believe she calls it, 'tempering'?"

I'd heard that word from D'Shea's lips as one description, yes. I nodded.

"Making you put up with as much as you can take, forcing you to be the opposite of what you were brought up to be," she continued, leaning closer, her voice low and almost soft. "Subterfuge and spying, politics and history. Learning everything but the warrior aspect of being a Red Sister."




Sufferance Ch. 02



I knew she was trying to wheedle a way in, and it was working. She'd hit on the mark. I knew they were rivals, and it seemed they knew more of each other than it first seemed, with the way Rausery had paid very little attention to me since I'd been presented by D'Shea. My superior was my sponsor, and she had chosen me. I hadn't had the choice, but it didn't seem wise at all to try to play both sides in this particular battlefield.

"I prefer mine to be able to defend themselves from other Red Sisters sooner rather than later," Rausery stated, straightening up. "I've never seen the purpose in that aspect of her training. I think that's her particular delight. You went through the trials, you came back from the wilderness, and you were initiated by each Red Sister. Why does it need to continue beyond that, hm?"

She leaned in again. "Only to be Jaunda's pet. Do you think that's hurt your ambitions, how high you can climb among us? It might be hard for some of us to take you seriously. There are quite a few lower to middling Sisters who are content where they are licking a Lead's netherlips, because they're still better than the base civilian or any Noble."

I pressed my lips together to prevent saying anything. She was quite good at this. Anger against D'Shea started stirring my gut; yes, this beginning and the hardships that would come with it was her doing, but I shook my head against it. 

If nothing else, I'd observed that D'Shea usually had layers within her plans. I couldn't see them all, and it was that ability I wanted to have, to learn that kind of strategy. I already knew how to be a warrior, and a murderer; Rausery might be able to hone those skills, but sooner or later they would plateau. I had plenty of time.

D'Shea had sold some of my time to Rausery, but I would return to her eventually. This had to be for a reason. It was up to me whether I got any benefit from it or just hung here being slapped around.

I realized how fortunate it was for me that Rausery had decided to talk to me.

The Elder chuckled at my next more urgent head shake, at my eyes avoiding hers; she took it that she was reaching me. She wasn't entirely wrong.

She took my chin again to turn my eyes back. "Sirana Thalluensareci. A third daughter, a Court male-player, a decent fighter...and a vengeful victim."

I blinked slowly, kept my mouth shut even as my hands closed to fists.

"So how did you kill your sister, the Priestess-wannabe?" she whispered. "You know, some of us have been curious."

"I did not kill her."

I had orchestrated the circumstances that caused her death. There was a difference, and I'd be foolish to claim direct sororicide.

Rausery straightened up and laughed aloud, her voice echoing briefly off the thick walls, the deep red of her eyes gleaming. "Good answer." She paced side-to-side briefly, looking thoughtful, stopped again to face me. "How was your journey back from where we left you? Memorable?"

Purposefully I remembered things like masturbating by the pool, crushing that spider out of spite of the Goddess, the comforting weight of my House blade in my hand. I recalled the cleansing of the underground water, holding my breath for so very long through that water channel, and my first view of the stunning Consort on the farm.

I did not think about the Duergar.

"The Consort," I admitted. She already knew that story. "I had to do a lot of hiding up until then. The after-effects of the ritual left me..." I let my voice fade.

Rausery nodded, motioning that I continue.

"I finally reached a point where it overwhelmed me."

She smirked. "With such beauty at hand and no deterrents, I can't really blame you."

That only understated how powerful that divine lust had been. Sure, any Drow could understand my attacking the Consort; he was bred to be perfect and arouse our deepest appreciations.

But the Duergar had been as ugly as the other was fair, and there had been plenty of deterrents... yet it hadn't made a difference. We'd still fucked, we'd still fought, and I'd still climaxed before having the presence of mind to kill him.

My horror at what had happened nearly drove me away into exile afterward. It had been a deliberate decision to return to the City and to the Sisters. And it had been deliberate to keep the secret.

"And what do you think of your time with us?"

"I want to learn more," I answered. What I thought of the details did not change that broad fact.

"Do you miss having males around?" she asked, and I blinked at her in surprise. "I'll take that as a yes. I heard that you were quite the cock-hunter at Court."

My eyes flicked to one side but returned quickly. I'd had a burning question not answered yet, and I had to ask. "Do Red Sisters only ever couple with each other...for life? We have the magical phallus, and the hunger with which some use it, it's as if they're... frustrated."

She narrowed her eyes curiously, tilting her head. "What has D'Shea told you?"

"That I may not become pregnant, on pain of death. That I could have all the sex I wanted within the Red Sisters. But that was at the beginning, when I was still...out of control." I huffed in frustration. "She never said if that would ever change, and I haven't been able to ask."

Rausery nodded sagely. "Catching a child is an...inconvenient state for a Red Sister. The Priestesses don't want us to abort, and the Valsharess agrees, to the point that they take complete ownership of one of our Sisters from the time they become aware of her condition until she either miscarries or delivers. They keep the child, and the Sister returns to us."

I absorbed that. It took two years for Drow to carry to term; it was why one of the greatest sins in our society was to attack a laboring Drow, when she was undeniably vulnerable. Every rival she'd ever had would simply wait the two years until she was giving birth and attack then. If left unchecked, all Drow would do that. It would destroy us; we'd die out. Plain and simple, it was a sin against Lolth and our own race, and not to be done. Ever.

But two years essentially kept by the Priestesses as livestock? And they raised the daughter or son?

"They don't...send the child back to our former Houses?" I asked, and Rausery shook her head. "What do they do with them?"

She stared with a face of stone, and I got the distinct feeling that if she'd been D'Shea, I'd have just been slapped again.

"The Sister must be re-trained to get her back in shape," Rausery continued, ignoring the question, "and overall we lose measurable effectiveness when careless fucks result in stuffed bellies."

To my profound dismay, that sounded like a case built for why it was forbidden to ever mate with a male again and I braced myself. The Elder saw it and grinned widely, very amused.

"I was going to add...that we also know our own natures and can live a long time, Sirana. It's going to happen whether we forbid it or not. So, no, it's not forbidden. You can take a real cock if you want to—if you can find the time—but make sure you have also swallowed a contraception draught an hour beforehand or use some other precaution—in another hole, perhaps. I know we've given you much practice on that."

I rolled my eyes at her stab, even though she was right. I could probably take Kerse in my backside and only gasp in pleasure as—

Okay, that imagery was a little too vivid.

She adjusted the glove of her left hand slightly. "Frankly, the need for the Feldeu arose with us. It was made for us, and no one else. There are some Sisters who use only that and don't even take the risk. That's an option as well, just to forego males entirely."

"Not likely for me," I murmured.

Feldeu...so it had a name. D'Shea couldn't have told me that much? I'd long since noticed—by the Abyss, I'd experienced— that this tool had caused a bizarre enhancement among the more aggressive and dominant Sisters—it was actually possible for the wearer of the false phallus to orgasm before the receiver...indeed, she could even force another Sister, cause pain or leave her unsatisfied as punishment, and still get release herself.

As I'd said before, this was unheard of between female Drow partners. On the occasion a faux phallus was used as punishment or to humiliate another, the wearer did not get much physical pleasure, either. Or at least, nothing like this, from what I'd seen; of their eyes rolling back in their heads and constantly moaning while they stroked. Nothing like the all-encompassing orgasm as they slammed it in all the way.

And only the Red Sisters possessed the Feldeu? I wondered about that.

It felt so strange, having this informative, calm conversation with Rausery while still naked and chained to the wall, my fingers numb and my arms hurting. As soon as I had the thought, the pain became very distracting. I tried to flex some blood and feeling back into my limbs but it didn't work; I just grimaced.

"I'll be back," Rausery said flatly, and left.

Wonderful. How many hours would this be? There was little to do but contemplate my aching arms, and I found myself trying to recite a couple rhyming prayers backwards, just to concentrate on something else. I settled down for a long wait.

But the Elder leader did come back as she said, and quite soon. She carried a bundle wrapped in shadowcloth, which she set down next to my discarded garments and shredded shirt. She took a moment to look me over.

"I meant what I said, that I will prepare you for your duty so I know it's done right. D'Shea has too much a liking for the 'sink or swim' method of teaching." She paused, watching me carefully as she added, "I may also use some of our time to teach you to fight back when you do not want to accept the Feldeu."

I hesitated to speak, letting the silence stretch, because I wanted to leap on the offer without exploring it further, and that would be a mistake. "I thought...as the youngest...that I had to."

"Who told you that?" Rausery said, and in her tone hung a huge hint that she would bet nobody had.

I was too stunned to reply immediately, but thought about the last eight weeks. D'Shea had said to follow orders from a ranking Sister if they didn't conflict with her own. After the days of abuse, I'd...I suppose I'd taken the demand to submit as an "order," particularly since they could back it up, being the better fighters and often coming in twos, threes, or more.

"What about Gaelan?" I said, also knowing I'd taken some of my cues from her.

"Gaelan," the Elder repeated, frowning a moment as if recalling the face and then huffing a laugh. "Oh, yes. Gaelan found her place early, upon entering the Sisterhood. She enjoys it, and will encourage others to give up control like her. She is a follower by nature and D'Shea is perfect for her." She narrowed her eyes at me. "You, on the other hand, do not truly enjoy it, I do not care whether you climax or not. And you strike me as neither a leader nor a follower. You'd rather work independently, am I right? Not at your best in groups."

She didn't wait for a response but scooted the box over closer to step on it once again, this time unhooking and lowering the chains from the wall.

"We use all types, Sirana. Lower your arms slowly."

I could not rightly do anything else; I sucked in a breath at the pain that shot through them, as the hot/cold rush of blood and the tingles following after it. I was quiet as she kneeled to unwrap the bundle, and I was still when I glimpsed red leather, just before she flipped it open to reveal a uniform.

Rausery picked up a piece that looked like a short red tunic. "Another hand-down, but it should fit. It's D'Shea's task to have one made for you that is custom." She paused at my silence and gestured. "Well? Speak, Sirana. Or I can put you back on the wall and give your regards to our queen."

I looked at the shackles and my black bracers then back at her. "I will wear the red uniform with pride. Thank you, Elder. And... if you will teach me how to protect my ass from a piercing every night, I will gladly learn. You're right, I don't truly enjoy it."

Elder Rausery chuckled and draped the red tunic over her arm before reaching for a small key in a belt pouch. She used it to unlock my shackles, caught the metal before it could fall on my bare feet, and instructed me to remove the black bracers.

"D'Shea's selections do seem to vary. Perhaps I should have tried harder to capture you myself, but I thought you were another Gaelan and I have no need for that. While D'Shea enjoys playing with her pieces on a map, I prefer being close at hand of the events."

She helped me don the red uniform, showing me how each piece went together. The chest piece over the tunic, the bracers, the belt; all of them used sturdy straps that folded down on themselves and somehow stuck, instead of leather ties to hold the armor in place. It made the pieces both noiseless in avoiding the use of metal, and baffling to an enemy in just how it was supposed to be undone. 

The leather pants themselves were much softer on the inside, better quality, with sealed pockets containing the molded armor, arranged to allow complete freedom of movement. The boots, even not made for me, were still of a size and nearly the most comfortable I'd ever donned; they would be as silent as the black ones had been.

Rausery returned to me my black belt for now; I knew where everything was on it and it still contained my House dagger. It still denoted me as the lowest rank. Nonetheless, I felt good in this. Very good.

"We'll go over the particulars of your duties for the ball," she said, "and we'll get you a few new tools. Only after you can recite it all to my satisfaction will I show you how you might discourage the opportunists like Jaunda."

********

The particulars of what to watch for and expect at the worship ball, as well as the demonstration of some new tools, took the rest of the day. Because I wasn't yet returning to D'Shea's sector but probably would not get any rest if I found a pallet somewhere between there and here, Elder Rausery put me on the floor in her quarters.

We undressed to full nudity, but before we went into reverie, she sat on the edge of her bed, facing me.

"Put your mouth between my legs, Sirana."

I paused a moment, mainly to recollect that I hadn't done that before. It was something she actually hadn't forced me to do when she tested my worthiness. She hadn't seemed focused on her own pleasure at the time, only my resilience.

"Payment for a secure bed," she smirked. "And for the extra warriors you cost me today. Come here."

I didn't argue; I already knew what it would be like trying to sleep outside of her quarters, and I felt much, much better prepared for the ball thanks to her. 

I knelt on the floor as she sat on the edge of the bed but her muscular thighs didn't open fully until I'd used my hands to part them. She sighed softly as I began suckling on her netherlips, and she put her hands in my hair, removing the band and undoing the plaited braid to spread my hair out across my back. Her fingers felt good stroking my scalp as my tongue darted inside her, around and out and in again.

By the time she was heaving, her back ramrod straight even as she braced herself slightly back with her arms, I had two fingers inside her, was flicking my tongue and using all my tricks to service her. Her hips thrust up and she growled short and low on occasion, but otherwise she didn't make much sound aside from her heavy breathing. 

Her legs began to tremble as she pushed against the floor and held her ass slightly off the mattress, tilting her head back as she got closer and closer. I decided to take a risk and essentially do to her as I had with the wizard: I lubed up the middle finger of my other hand and slipped it between her buttocks, penetrating her ring quickly and just as it seemed she was ready to orgasm.

"AAHH!" she roared and she squirted me just like Jaunda could do; my chin and chest were drenched and it was a hot splash that turned chill almost instantly. I could feel her body spasm around my digits, could smell the heightened musk and feel the heat pressed to my face.

I removed all my fingers as her backside touched the mattress again and she stared down at me with bright but unreadable eyes as she caught her breath. I stared back and did not quail. I stayed on my knees and waited, not attempting to wipe the moisture from my lower face and chest—it was a vain effort without some sort of cloth. When she didn't say anything for several moments, I let a small smile show on my swollen lips. "Sounded like a good one, Elder."

One side of her mouth tugged upward and she shrugged. "Hm. They were right, you are pretty good at that. No wonder they all want a piece."

"I look forward to your training," I replied. "It will make me a rarer commodity."

She chuckled, leaning down to touch my own sex. I obediently opened wider for her and her fingers slipped in, but more to test its readiness. She soon withdrew and lifted her fingers just beneath her nose to take in the scent. "I'm sure it will. Stay where you are."

She stood up to retrieve something from a locked drawer in her desk, and I immediately knew what it was. I felt some dismay but hid it behind a neutral face as Rausery strode lazily back over, sat down on the bed again, and lifted one leg to insert her personal Feldeu into herself and whisper a magical word.

Like I'd seen first with Gaelan in the cave, and many others since, the phallus glowed subtly and the shape changed to conform perfectly with Rausery's body, essentially becoming part of her until she uttered the release word—different for every phallus, I understood.

She made a sound of pleasure and stroked her black member a few times before gesturing to me. "Stand up."

I did, but waited, somewhat confused. I didn't know precisely what she wanted; she wasn't giving many cues the way she was bracing her arms again and leaving the rigid Feldeu to sway slightly to one side, just looking at me.

"Get me one of those chairs, the one without arms," she instructed finally.

I looked behind me and saw a hefty fiberstone chair with four legs but no arms. I had to lift it carefully to avoid pulling a muscle, carrying it over slowly and putting it down, hyperaware of my bare feet.

"Good." Rausery stood to sit on that chair, getting comfortable and looking up at me with a half-smile. She looked down at her erection and back up. "Well? You want to get off or not?"

This had to be a trick. The Elder could not be inviting me to mount her and take control, to fuck her like a submissive male. Never mind that this was one of my favorite positions when I'd had free access to male Drow. If I took her up on it, I could not be in my more sane of states.

"I can go without, Elder," I said, my voice betraying my nervousness. "I don't need—"

"Ohhhh no, you don't," she shook her head, her dark red eyes gleaming and her teeth showing like a playful predator. "Get on my lap and get this thing up your twat now, or I'll send you to sleep with my Team Two."

Damn it.

I moved to obey, placing my feet wide apart on either side of Rausery's thighs, hovering over her lap and her Feldeu. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel in control when I straddled a cock from above, but it was still a familiar motion. I held one of her shoulders as I reached between us to aim her erection at my pussy, then slowly squatted down on it. She sucked in a slow breath as I did so, the sensations seeming to be pure pleasure to her as I slowly engulfed her rod. For my own sex, it was still sore as I stretched around it, but the pain was nothing I couldn't handle.

I lifted back up, using my thighs with both hands on her shoulders, and lowered myself back down. She hissed in pleasure again and reached around to squeeze my buttocks.




Sufferance Ch. 02



"Come on," she growled in an odd mix of delight and irritation, "show me how you fuck a cock."

My first few strokes must've seemed a bit meek, because she opened her eyes and scowled at me.

"I've already seen how you take a cock, Sirana. You'll do fine if you're ever Surface-captive. Now show me how you fuck one."

I felt a white-hot flash of shock go through me at her words and my mouth dropped open—would I be going to the Surface at some point? Was that common for Red Sist—? 

Rausery parted my cheeks and penetrated my rectum just as I'd done hers earlier and I jumped. Then she leaned forward and claimed my open mouth in a hard, wet kiss, thrusting the Feldeu into me three times as she kept her finger in my netherhole.

Whatever combination that had been, it jump-started my arousal and I groaned against her mouth before beginning to fuck on my own. She smelled like she hadn't purposefully worn any perfume or delicate scent in decades; she certainly bathed with water but her scent was pure earth and musk, rich with physical power. 

With my cunt full and her thrusting beneath me, I remembered coupling with a few true fighters from my Court days that had smelled similar. They had been a lot of fun. The memories enhanced my sensations and I started to ride Rausery with enthusiasm.  

She removed her finger from me and kept her arms loosely around my waist as I used her shoulders for leverage to fuck her cock harder and harder. Oh, Lolth, it felt so good and so much more familiar; I was in control enough to let loose. My partner beneath me was neither limp-fish passive nor tooth-and-nail fighting, and the shared heat even kept the wetness on our skin from cooling.

"Ohh, yeah," I ground out, climbing quickly as I worked the Feldue like one of those gnome pistons in their machines. 

I was going to come quickly and my cries—for I was more vocal than Rausery had been—got higher and higher in pitch. She used those cries to gauge just when she should thrust her finger back inside my puckered ring, and when she did, something huge exploded in my head and I screamed in delight. My body clenched hard and I uttered successive, breathy "ahhs" as I came back down, an immense amount of stress bleeding out of me until I lay lax and gasping.

Opening my eyes, I realized I had my arms around Rausery's shoulders and our breasts were lightly pressed together. I looked down then up at her grinning face and quickly straightened myself, still sitting on her lap with the Feldeu inside me, but not embracing her.

"So, was I anyone in particular?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow, not losing that wide smile.

I shook my head, understanding what she was asking and having no energy to pretend otherwise. "No...no, a...blend of several."

She nodded. "Looked like fun. You lose yourself in it, don't you? I'd say in your case, without fail, either take a draught every day or take it between your cheeks, Sirana. You catch a child this early on in your training and I'll beat the living Abyss out of you before handing you over to the Priestesses. I don't care what D'Shea says."

I nodded, believing her.

This was going to be different... Before the Red Sisters had come for me, I'd been barren. I hadn't needed to worry about unintended pregnancy; I could take as much semen as I wanted up my twat. Apparently the "way I fucked a cock" had shown that carefree, reckless enjoyment, and Rausery had seen it, understood it for what it was.

I was going to have to be a lot more careful in the future.

"Now get off me and cleaned us up, novice."

To be continued...



Sufferance 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 2012

This story is continued. 

*****

Rausery had brought a full dozen healing potions and two other Sisters with her to one of several sparring rooms lit by a torch or two. She had instructed me to wear the black leathers instead of the red, having replaced the black shirt she'd shredded with another that fit slightly tighter.

The reds had been bundled again and placed near the healer bottles, as if I had to earn it back after trying it on for size the previous cycle. I took it as a sign that this would not be easy, but if the Elder came through with what she promised, as she had so far... then I wanted what knowledge she would give me.

The two Sisters, Panagan and Moria, I recognized immediately; they had been part of the group of six who had pushed me hardest so far. That had to be intentional. They looked me over and smirked, their eyes showing the memory of their part in the pack that tortured me, but made no comment otherwise.

"We don't have a lot of time," Rausery said. "The ball starts a cycle from now, and I have other duties." She looked at me. "As do you. I trust you'll learn quickly."

I nodded. "Yes, Elder."

Rausery looked at the other two present. "Your goal will be to immobilize and penetrate her. Hers will be to prevent it. No holding back."

They nodded as well, although Panagan cleared her throat. "Elder Rausery...may I ask—?"

Her superior made an impatient gesture.

"Didn't we already do this?"

Rausery smiled without showing her teeth. "No." She looked at me. "First I want to see what you already know, novice. Begin."

We stood staring at each other for several seconds. When the two didn't move first I decided, knowing by sight that they had to have Feldeus on their belt, that I'd attempt to take them. Without it, and if I kept my leathers on, one would certainly have trouble with her goal.

No holding back. I took it that meant all of us.

Moria blinked as I charged her and swept a hard kick at her knee. I almost couldn't believe that I connected so solidly; she wailed hoarsely in pain and Panagan cursed, moving immediately to attack me. I didn't have time to grab at Moria's belt; I back-peddled to avoid her seizing me. 

Similar to my first encounter with Gaelan, I used what training I had to defend and try to force her back again. I'd learned something in my time here, and I wasn't as ineffectual as I'd been before sparring against a Red Sister. Gaelan and Jaunda knew my favorite attacks well and could anticipate them, but these two didn't. 

I stayed away from Moria, who was reaching for her belt, and led Panagan around the room, drawing her in and attacking and drawing in again. She bared her teeth and watched me with fierce eyes, waiting for an opening.

"Not as easy when there isn't six of you, is it?" I panted. The hatred in my belly had begun boiling early in the fight but I kept a tight leash on it. I had to focus.

She sneered. "It was you who made it last three cycles. If you hadn't been so stubborn—"

"Eat dwarf dung."

I heard Rausery chuckle as I landed a punch to Panagan's cheekbone and she backed up, looking shocked. Perhaps Gaelan and Jaunda had been teaching more than I realized—

Something small cracked open at my feet and a burst of fumes rose up into the air, making both of us begin coughing immediately. We fell apart from each other, unable to breathe, when Moria crashed clumsily into me and shoved me to the far side of the room and out of the fumes. I tripped, still coughing, and felt her haul me up only to slam me against the wall and let me fall again. I knew I'd heard her gasping in pain as she did so, which was pleasing even as I knew she'd gotten the drop on me.

Moria was growling as she fell on me, yanking and ripping at my pants. I felt a hard erection smashed against my thigh and realized she'd had ample time to get her Feldeu in place. On the ground it was harder to fight but I should have the advantage on that knee injury—

As we struggled she got hold of a nerve point just as I landed another blow on her knee; she screamed and gripped me hard and I went rigid in paralyzing pain, unable to make any sound myself. She left off her attempt at stripping me in favor of hitting me in the face and hissing insults at me. I can't say that I was impressed with the choice.

As soon as I could feel my fingers again, I grabbed her cock down by my hips and pulled. Hard.

"Cunt!" she shrieked and punched hard into my gut to knock the wind from me. It almost worked but the hardened leather absorbed the worst of it and I got another good twist on her member before she squirmed free, mewling.

I rolled but was not able to scrabble to my feet before Panagan fell on me next, also ready with her pants open and raging hard-on jutting out. She pressed me quickly to my belly and I cursed luridly, struggling to find a way to get her off me as her black pole pressed lengthwise between my buttocks.

"Get over here," Panagan growled at Moira, who crawled over on three points of contact. She didn't need to be told to pull my pants down while Panagan held me.

I never stopped fighting but cried out when, as soon as my leathers were down around my thighs, the Red Sister atop me crammed half her Feldeu into my sex. It was dry and not the least comfortable. It took repeated lunges, but eventually she got it all the way in, dragged it halfway out, and rammed in again. I gritted my teeth; I was in for a very rough grudge fuck.

"A win, Panagan," Rausery said. "At attention."

The body atop me went stiff and trembled in barely contained rage and lust. Her voice was incredulous, and it was clear she didn't want to stop until she'd cum using my twat. "E-Elder?"

"Now."

"But—"

Rausery started to walk across the room and Panagan immediately jumped off me, her slithering cock vacating my body with a reverse suck. I took the opportunity to surge to my feet, resetting my pants and backing away, facing all three of them. My lungs still itched from the gas pellet Moria had thrown down, and I could tell the other two were affected as well when Panagan heaved a panicked cough as she retreated from her approaching superior.

"Stand still!" Rausery barked, closing the remaining distance in a blink and grabbing hold of her subordinate's erection to hold her in place.

I had a lingering question of mine answered as I watched; the Feldeu didn't go soft, did not even waver, even though Panagan had clearly lost her fire staring into Rausery's burning eyes. It remained turgid and at attention, though its wearer grimaced at the tight grip and did not look aroused anymore.

"Don't question my order again," the ranking Sister murmured low and deadly, though we could all hear her. "Your purpose here is this," she jerked on the magical cock, "for my use. Nothing else. Understand?"

Panagan gasped at the tug and nodded. "Yes, Elder. I understand."

Rausery glanced at Moria, still favoring her leg and who immediately piped up, "I, too, understand, Elder."

She nodded, released Panagan's cock, and turned her attention to me next. I stayed quiet as she stepped up to me, since I really had no idea whether I'd done anything wrong or not.

"So your first choice was to crack her knee?" she asked.

After a second's hesitation, I answered, "Yes, Elder."

"Why?"

"It puts most out of a fight instantly."

"Most. You'll notice Moria was still effective."

Between the gas pellet and her determined brawling, yes...and now that I thought about it, Moria shouldn't have been able to slam me into the wall as she had; she shouldn't have been able to stand up at all. Was she that tough? She didn't look it...

"You said don't hold back, Elder," I ventured. Her mouth quirked. "I did. And I saw what I needed to see. Now consider whether your first action to convince Jaunda that you are not available would be to crack her knee?"

I actually swallowed at that thought. Jaunda, and even possibly Gaelan, would take an injury like that with an even deeper rage than Moria. My resistance, or any refusal, must match my history with the Sister in question. If I'd been willing before, if I had even enjoyed aspects of it... "No, I wouldn't choose to do that. It was vengeance here."

I head Moria curse at me under her breath and Rausery chuckled as she looked at her. She removed a small bottle from her belt and held it out to her subordinate. "Drink this, Moria. You and Panagan go into the next room and wait till I call you."

Moria limped forward and took the bottle with a quiet but polite thank-you, drinking it then and there. She grimaced—perhaps it was bitter—before limping with Panagan toward the door, their rigid cocks still bobbing in front of them. 

Even though Moria's gait slowly got smoother and I knew she would be fully healed in another few minutes, she still made sounds as if the process was hurting her. Odd. Most healing potions I'd heard of were completely painless; why would the Drow not think to include a pain-killing aspect in the magic? Why would they suffer such a thing? They wouldn't if they didn't have to.

It had to be deliberate in this case. Punishment for needing it in the first place?

Rausery waited until the stone door had slid shut before speaking again. "Was the retribution enough for you?"

I wasn't sure what she wanted to hear, or if there was a wrong answer. But so far the Elder seemed only to want my actual thoughts, so I continued in that vein. "No, Elder."

She tilted her head. "You'll continue until all six are dead?"

That path I knew wouldn't do me much good long-term, as nice as it might feel for a moment. "No, Elder. I could be satisfied with their keeping their distance from me. They know you are taking some interest to train me. I'd take an opportunity to show them what you taught me, but would not pursue their deaths."

"And if they pursued yours?"

"I'd defend myself as much as needed. If they get themselves killed in spite of any warning from you, Elder, I'd wager you think they earned it."

Rausery still seemed very amused by me, even if she wasn't grinning as much as when I'd been straddling her. "Tell me one thing you've observed about Elder D'Shea. Your choice, Sirana, but I must find useful."

I knew that would come back sooner or later. She was on the cusp of teaching me what I most wanted to know; of course she would ask for something worthwhile in return. I couldn't blame her. So what was something I'd observed that Rausery might find interesting but wouldn't be betraying D'Shea outright?

"She hasn't fucked me, Elder Rausery," I said, deciding to keep the focus on myself, not anything else D'Shea may or may not be doing in the Cloister or at Court. Not that I knew much anyway. "She is the only one who hasn't, I think."

Best that I could tell, this seemed to be actual news to my superior's rival. She blinked slowly and thought for a few moments.

"You haven't felt her Feldeu, you mean?"

"I mean she hasn't touched me that way. I do not know what her pussy tastes like, nor her mine. Certainly not any penetration. I've bathed her once. That's all."

"And she looks to have all her parts?" Rausery asked with a wry smirk.

I nodded the affirmative, even if I couldn't tell if she was totally serious in asking. "She's well-formed, nothing missing or deformed."

"Hm," she grunted, remaining quiet another moment before nodding and taking a step or two back until we were within sparring distance. "When Panagan and Moria come back, you'll have the tools to fend them off without cracking bones."

After a pause, she added, "But don't let that stop you in the future."

The instruction began.

I slowly came to understand the theory of the "soft touch" Rausery was teaching me, and her demonstrations on me were very effective—I would start blacking out within a few seconds. I wondered, after I came to, that myself and other Drow I knew who'd taken martial training had been taught offense for only the quickest kills, the most painful, and the worst damage for the least amount of energy spent. And yet Rausery could subdue me, completely and unharmed, between the end of one breath and the start of the next. My neck was barely sore.

She allowed me to practice my arm and hand placements so I could be sure of my technique, but also had a thumb on a nerve point just in case I tried to get cute and knock her out. The thought made me smile but I wasn't suicidal for when she awoke, nor was I ready to kill an unconscious Red Sister Elder for absolutely no gain and my life or free will to lose.

After giving me four such techniques, all for various shapes of neck and angle of attack, Rausery called Panagan and Moria back in. They looked no less disgruntled for having the break, but they did look like they might've been sucking each other's cocks while they waited.

The first engagement was not successful for me. I failed to hold my grip even a few seconds on the first truly furious Red Sister, and eventually found my face smashed against the wall, my backside abruptly exposed, and Panagan's Feldeu thrust into my rectum this time, not my pussy. Rausery did not stop her, not that I expected her to but my attacker laughed and rutted me harder when she realized she was being given free reign. Eventually she forced me on all fours and Moria jammed her own erection into my mouth, gleefully blocking my air as they double-ended me, not stopping until they'd climaxed. Like before, I only endured.

"A win, Panagan and Moria. Stand down."

Glowing with victory and satisfaction, they withdrew, spit and blood coating their weapons, and they each took a healing potion offered by Rausery. The two stood back to remove their Feldeus with whispered words of release as their Elder came up to me.  

I slowly pulled up my torn pants, my jaw clenched tight, and noticed I couldn't quite look at her eyes. She offered me a draught as well and leaned to whisper in four words what I'd done wrong in my ear. I only barely hesitated to take the bottle, then gulped down the potion, feeling the sharp stabs of pain in my ass first get worse for several moments and then finally start to fade and feel normal. 

That had definitely hurt more than any healing draught I'd ever heard of. Definitely intentional.

I nodded to her without speaking. I still wanted to try again; I could visualize what I needed to do the next time.

"Again," the Elder said abruptly as she stepped away. "Begin."

The two Red Sisters blinked, looked at their magical phallus, and moved swiftly to put them back on.

I jumped Panagan before she had the thing fully attached, wrenching it out of her pussy and flinging it far across the room, where it landed with a heavy slap. They both shrieked threats but I immediately had the proper grip around Panagan's neck, holding for the four seconds I needed to make her sink to her knees and using her body as a shield when Moria approached me. Moria's cock was fully attached by the time I dropped her Sister unconscious to the ground.

"I'm not going to stop with your mouth this time, novice," she growled, eyes narrowing and white teeth gleaming in the torchlight. "You'll be gagging on your own filth."

"How? You've forgotten how to get that piece on your own," I mocked.

The fight was short but furious. Moria did injure me as I needed to sacrifice one wrist to get close enough to get a hold on her—a sprain, fortunately, not a break. We went to the ground again but this time it was my groin against her backside. Her squealing was pure denial and rage, but it ended quickly as I cut off the blood to her head and her eyes slowly closed.

By that time, however, Panagan was waking up, groggily shaking her head as she got to her knees.

Damn.

I released the lax body and sprinted for Panagan's still-soiled Feldeu on the ground. I couldn't use it myself; I didn't know the command word to which it responded. For that same reason, I couldn't remove Moria's cock, either. Nonetheless, I wanted a cock in my hand, not theirs, if at all possible.

Panagan's bitter gaze found me holding her Feldeu soon enough, and she ground her teeth but didn't charge me as I half-expected her to do.

"You can't wear that. What are you going to do with it?"

"Probably stuff it in Moria's mouth. Or yours."

She wrinkled her nose; by her own actions, it was smeared with my blood and whatever was in my waste tract at the moment. "You'll never succeed. You think you're the only one who knows the sleep holds?"

I shrugged, feeling my smile start to widen as some of my old self started to reassert itself in spite of my sprained wrist throbbing at my side. I'd been fighting so hard ever since the Sisters had taken me, and the almost ritualistic abuse, pain, and pressure often forced the most aggressive thoughts and actions from me. It had gone in a vicious cycle for weeks.

Having finally put two Sisters down with minimal effort and fuss, and brandishing a smeared phallus in my hand—something I doubted Panagan and Moria really wanted to risk swallowing—I had all the time in the Underdark and a fair bit of the power back.

It felt great.

Panagan watched me warily as I kept focused on the edges of her shape, should she move or reach to toss something explosive and distracting the way Moria had. Over the next quiet minute, the second Red Sister groaned softly and began to wake up as well. I was well-aware that two awake were much harder to fight off than one, but if they wanted me, they'd have to come to me.

Just enough of the situation was different now to keep me very patient and it was a very long wait. Double expressions of hatred and evaluation focused on me at the phallus growing increasingly tacky in my hand. They understood that I intended to wait them out and had accepted the challenge. I dared not look away from them to glance at Rausery, who was so quiet and still in the room I could almost think she'd slipped out.

After more time, they tried taunting me with derisive names—mostly related to "Jaunda's pet" or "D'Shea's ass-sucker"—but it really had very little effect on me—because they were standing back, still avoiding the weapon they'd made.

"If you two are just going to stand there, why don't you at least entertain us," I suggested. "Panagan, since you lost your cock, how about you kneel and start suckling Moria's like you no doubt were before you were summoned back here?"

What I considered a very mild insult had far more effect on them than I expected it to have; Panagan actually reached for her belt and Moria—definitely the weak link—glanced over at Rausery. I acted.

"Lucinitrel!" 

I had to gesture with my sprained wrist, so the light didn't come in one big flash as it normally does, but much more like a fast-beating heart throbbing right over our heads. It still did the job; I had my eyes closed as I cast and charged.

I heard both Moria's cry in pain and the crack of air at my feet as I figured Panagan had time to throw down whatever she'd reached for. I held my breath and moved through the plume, feeling the lining of my nose tingle though my mouth and eyes were tightly closed.

Panagan had moved far enough backward by the time I got there that my blind-fighting wouldn't help me, but Moria remained about where she had been. My arm drawn back to full strength, I slapped the second Sister across the face with the soiled phallus. Her sound of surprise and quickly-realized disgust was priceless, music to my ears just prior to my foot kicking her again. It wasn't luck that it was square in the gut and she actually crumpled this time.




Sufferance Ch. 03



A broken knee and she could still charge me...but a kick to the gut....?

I didn't have time to think about it Panagan tried to tackle me. Her off-aim told me she had been more disoriented by the light than I'd been. She barely managed to grab me at my waist and haul me with her away from Moria, but she didn't have a good lock on my body so I went willingly down with her to the ground, wrapping my legs around her hips and squeezing hard. She tried to snatch my weak spot, my sprained wrist, but wasn't fast enough as I leaned up to kiss her full on the mouth with an eager hum, my tongue flicking her lips before I bit her.

Her utter surprise followed by a howl of rage left her mouth open long enough for me to pull back and thrust the head of her own Feldeu past her lips to the back of her throat. She gagged but I kept it in place, tightening my legs to hold her to me and using my forearm to apply pressure to the back of her head. Panagan was unable to dislodge the soiled cock for a full five seconds, and the sounds she made almost caused me climax from the aurel stimulation alone.

By the time she'd spit it out and screamed at me, I became aware of Rausery laughing out loud in a grand belly-laugh, her rich voice laced with delight and filling the chamber.

"A win, Sirana," she said. "Disengage."

I did not make the mistake of hesitating; I immediately released Panagan and stood up, taking the phallus with me and stepping a pace or two from the sputtering Sister. Moria was scowling and rubbing her face with a leather cloth she'd had on her; her companion clearly wished she had something to drink.

Rausery stepped forward and held out her hand for Panagan's Feldeu; I placed it in her gloved hand, glad I didn't have to return it to its owner directly. She didn't have any reaction to its lack of cleanliness; she simply held it and looked at Panagan.

"I'll keep this," she said.

Panagan somehow resisted shooting a look at me and nodded stiffly.

Rausery looked next at Moria. "Remove your Feldeu and give it to me."

The second Sister looked more distressed but obeyed, whispering her command word to release the item's magical grip on her flesh and slowly slipping it out of her sex. She handed it to her Elder.

"Their pouches as well."

"What did we do wrong, Elder?" she asked as she did that, too. "We did as you asked. We had more wins than Sirana."

Panagan looked like she had a question as well, but pressed her mouth tighter as she removed her own pouch, perhaps not want to ask whether it was because I'd made her eat her own cock.

Rausery watched her for a few seconds, as if deciding whether to grant an answer. "If you've forgotten what it's like to be without favorite weapons, then it's time to reflect on that. Dependence causes weakness."

"May I ask why are the ones we training her, Elder?" Panagan asked. "Isn't she D'Shea's?"

Rausery half-smiled and narrowed her eyes. "We are all Red Sisters, Panagan. If you've forgotten that, too, maybe I'll send you to take Qivni's place in D'Shea's sector. Both of you could go. You will see whether Jaunda takes an interest in your quims."

Moria began to protest but her companion pursed her lips again and ribbed her hard with an elbow.

"As you command, Elder," Panagan said with impressive steadiness. "You have only to speak it."

"I'll think about it. See Agaila for your next duty. You're dismissed."

When they'd left, I stood watching Rausery and wondering at how different she seemed now compared to what I'd been told to expect, and what I had believed of her the first time she tested me. I wondered whether she was a better match for me than D'Shea; I could understand her method of teaching better. It was tough but direct; she expected results, prized efficiency and self-reliance, and the training had a surprising sense of balance to it. Her confidence shone but her ego did not rule her as much as it did so many of us...perhaps even me.

D'Shea, by comparison, only kept me guessing with riddles and intrigue. Granted, I'd indulged in plenty of that at Court, but D'Shea's tactics seemed particularly distracting and her motives buried beneath multiple possible angles. What did she want most of all? No one seemed to know. Rausery seemed only to want an effective, well-trained force to serve the Valsharess; she placed her reputation and her pride on that.

Which sort of begged the question: what did I want?

At this time, I wanted only to be effective, to be better at what I was trained to do. It aligned with Rausery's goals much better. Perhaps later my desires would realign closer to D'Shea's, if I ever found out what they were. But that was some time away yet; I knew that in my gut. First I needed to be effective.

"I have a few more techniques to show you," Rausery said, slipping each soiled Feldeu into its pouch and setting it on one of the few small tables set along the wall. "This time you will be fending off me."

I made a small show of swallowing in consternation; clearly I anticipated my orifices to be yielding several more times as I learned and practiced. But I could have been more dismayed at the prospect than I was.

"I'm ready, Elder."

*****

D'Shea sent Qivni back as it approached the end of the cycle, signaling that it was time to trade back again. Rausery grunted and nodded, sending me on my way by myself. 

This was well after I'd changed back from my black leathers and into the borrowed red ones, and I had followed her around for a few hours as she went to speak with other Sisters and get things arranged for the next cycle or two. I was not privy to the conversations; I waited outside the doors, straining my ears but hearing nothing.

Magical dampeners, no doubt.

She did not offer me one last healing potion when we parted; she let me leave with the sore muscles and intimate parts heated by friction, just as they had been when the sparring was done. I never did prevent her from penetrating me even once; it seemed she had chosen two of the less-experienced Sisters for me to fight at first, and Rausery herself was far above my current ability. 

However, I could appreciate the fact that she would count a "win" when she thrust inside but didn't continue to pummel me. She'd simply withdraw and we'd get up and start again. I could even admit to myself that after that much teasing, I was aroused despite myself and glad to have her finish with me on all fours, fucking and climaxing inside me once she'd decided we were done training. 

Perhaps I could even say she was as relieved as I was to finally get off.

My mind was still whirling over the new knowledge when I left, visualizing things I could do differently in the future. I crossed the cloister with very little fanfare, reaching D'Shea's quarters where I knocked and waited to be bid enter. 

I watched my superior's face carefully as she first saw me—she was dressed in her lovely robes again, sitting with a crystal glass containing a faint green liquid, and seemed to have been writing something. She granted me raised brows and a slowly growing smile.

"Mm. You do the uniform justice, Sirana."

"Thank you, Elder."

"I expect you have much to tell me."

"Yes. Rausery gave me strict instruction and I am ready for the ball, Elder. I shan't embarrass you."

She nodded. "That I did not doubt. Is that how you spent all of your time with her?"

"No, Elder D'Shea."

She waited. I knew better than to lie but I was choosing my words.

"She had me spar with two other Sisters."

"Oh?" she said lightly. "To what purpose?"

"To be able to fend off unwanted Feldeus on my own."

For once, D'Shea didn't look as though she'd anticipated the response—or maybe it was that I'd called the phallus by its name. Her brow drew down in thought. "Did you bargain for such a thing?"

"No, Elder." That was entirely true. Rausery had presented the bargain after prodding me.

She half-smiled. "But you accepted when offered."

"Yes, Elder."

"In exchange for what?"

I thought about that. Except for my choosing one thing I'd observed about D'Shea, Rausery hadn't extracted much of a price from me. She'd offered to spend the time teaching me, because she...what had she said? "Didn't understand D'Shea's methods of instruction"? That almost sounded like, "If you want something done right, do it yourself." It seemed to fit Rausery. She had to be sure, however, that I would remember her favor, and the contrast to D'Shea. Would she expect anything later? Undoubtedly, but there had been no detailed bargain at the time....

I pursed my lips, looking honestly confused. "She asked questions of how you were teaching me, what you were teaching me. When she coaxed me to admit that I... I thought I was expected, as the youngest, to obey any ranking Sister who wanted to sample me..." 

D'Shea took a sip of her drink and started looking amused. I didn't mind the embarrassment of this confession because it completely glossed over anything that I had told Rausery about D'Shea. I would rather err on the side of caution and assume that my superior wouldn't appreciate my telling her rival that she herself hadn't sampled me yet.

I continued. "Well, Rausery laughed and said she would show me how to 'dissuade' them." I looked up from the floor and at D'Shea directly. "Why didn't you ever mention that I could do that? You knew the trouble I was having with some Sisters."

"It was your assumption that you had to obey them. I merely waited to see what you would do, Sirana, how you would handle it."

"And if I'd killed a Sister sooner or later, Elder?"

"I did not worry at all once you'd persuaded Jaunda to be your protector in exchange for sex with her. For all I knew, you wanted it that way." She was not laughing at me when she said that. Her voice was simple observation, and it was a masterful explanation.

Still, I narrowed my eyes. "I don't believe you, Elder."

"No?" Now she smiled. "Why not?"

"Gaelan," I said. "She was always there, so very convenient, so I could take my frustrations out on her. Just like when she found me at the Consort's plantation, borrowing your Feldeu on your order because she didn't have her own. I don't think she does, the one she has is yours. You never said a thing about the three-cycle gang rape or about Gaelan, and you were never around. It does not seem like something you would ignore."

"I was not ignoring it. I chose not to interfere," she replied. 

"Directly," I retorted, then tacked on, "Elder."

She narrowed her eyes and smirked. "That could simply be Gaelan's particular delight, Sirana, a reward she's earned. She does enjoy being underneath."

I ground my teeth once, and she chuckled once.

"You are not pleased with me, Blue Eyes. Explain why."

"Rausery gives a straight answer every now and then, my Elder."

"Would you rather go to her permanently, then?" D'Shea asked blandly, although I didn't miss the dagger-in-silk tone of her question. It was not an idle one.

"No, Elder," I replied. "I would stay with you. But I would like one straight answer from you, such as you gave me when I was first brought here—"

"Since when do you need them, Sirana?" D'Shea interrupted. "You've played in Court before, and I've been seeing to your knowledge. I've encouraged you. You are doing well, much better than some others have. As I said, I already have plans for you."

I backed off my pursuit briefly and re-thought my approach, trying to ignore the compliment. "Alright, but, in my time with her, Rausery caused me to second-guess your actions, or lack of them, my Elder. It was disturbing. I, well—"

"Wanted reassurance?" she guessed with another slow smile. "What was your impression of Rausery?"

"A top warrior, excellent tactician, very strong force of will," I answered. "Utilitarian, she values efficiency and competence. Her desires are apparent and align with her position: to protect and serve the Valsharess."

"Interesting. Such glowing praise."

"Not so. Just observations of her strengths," I insisted. "I didn't learn any of her weaknesses."

I wanted to make that clear.

"I see. And me? How do I compare in your eyes?"

I had already thought about it. D'Shea seemed to have learned more from the Priestesses and politicians. She kept her desires and motives hidden from others and let her results vindicate her. Perhaps she valued distraction and decoys and causing chaos, confusion...

"You act very much her opposite, Elder D'Shea. I believe you are more cunning than she is, and your goals far-reaching. But you let everyone guess, Elder, while Rausery reveals some of her thoughts. I cannot directly compare you."

Despite the fact that I just had. I would have to continue watching to see if I was right. Still, she seemed satisfied with my answer.

"Did she seem to like you, Sirana?"

That brought to mind my coupling with Rausery, first in her room, then in the sparring room, and that I'd probably...no, certainly... call it enjoyable. I remembered distinctly how her laugh had sounded.

"I...seemed to amuse her, Elder D'Shea."

"Is that a yes? She trained you using a sex toy. She fucked you, yes? She must have taken some liking to you."

I nodded, feeling some heat come to my face for reasons I didn't fathom. "Perhaps. But I wouldn't expect it to grant me any special favors, Elder."

"Of course not. But she saw something she could use to reach you. Did she indeed train you to fend off amorous Sisters without Jaunda's reputation protecting you?"

"Yes, I believe she did."

"And if I loaned you to her from time to time, would you be opposed to that?"

The conversation, such as it was, seemed to be speeding up. I was still trying to determine just how likely it was that D'Shea might have orchestrated some of this? Did she know enough of me and of Rausery to predict the outcome of the last two days? Or was she just taking advantage of a surprise opportunity?

"Ah...no, Elder, I wouldn't be opposed."

She kept staring at me. I was not stupid.

"I take it you would have goals for me other than serving her, Elder. You are still my superior, your orders supersede hers."

Her smile really was one of the more beautiful ones when she chose to use it. "I enjoy that you can keep up in our conversations, Sirana."

"Rausery would have to expect exactly that from me, that I'm spying for you," I ventured. "She's not thick, either."

D'Shea nodded. "Of course. We both expect it when we swap teams. Why do you think we limit their access? Surely you didn't bear witness to all her conversations."

I shook my head in the negative. She tapped a few delicate fingers against her glass before taking a sip.

"Now she knows what I know," D'Shea said, again smirking at me. 

Before I had a chance to follow her thought, she added, "You are dismissed. Return with Gaelan tomorrow."

*********

I'd bathed before lying down to rest, and when my mind finally let my body rest— when no one came to disrupt my sleep for once—the reverie was one of the deepest I'd known. In it I saw the tawny paleness of the Valsharess's eyes hovering above me. I didn't see a face or an expression, just an impression of the eyes, and the faded gaze soon drifted from me, forgetting me as their attention was drawn to the left. 

I followed the general direction just as the image disintegrated in a haze and I saw another silhouette, solid black but backed by light that rose up from the curved line of some vast expanse of space. The source of light was round and shone more brightly than an infinite number of candles could ever manage.

Gold.

Searing, golden light.

I knew that it should hurt, I should be screaming in pain. It had to be the Sun; it matched all the stories. It burned everything, slowly and over time. Our cloaks disintegrated on the Surface, turning to grey ash over the course of a few cycles...Days. Over the course of a few Days. Our skin would heat beneath it and be sensitive to the touch until it peeled away in dark, ashen flakes. Our eyes would not stop leaking water if we tried to look at it. 

I should be on my knees right now.

Yet I was well for the moment. I watched the black silhouette walk toward me and lift her hand so that I could see what she held. Grains of red and yellow sand unlike any I'd ever known to exist flowed from the point of a dagger blade. The dagger itself had a shining metallic blade with a red and black hilt. Scarlet runes were etched along both sides, glowing hungrily.

The weapon was not being offered; it was being brandished.

I started backing up, meaning to escape, but I don't remember what happened next.

*You.*

*Will.*

Suddenly the dagger flashed and bit deep into my gut. I doubled over, clasping the graceful wrist of she who held it, my mouth open but silent. I felt the blade eating me from the inside out, dissolving my life essence, my soul, like a spider's venom dissolved the guts of its prey.

Now I was on my knees, and finally I started screaming.

"Sirana...Sirana!"

I opened my eyes sucking in a lungful of air; I was staring up at Gaelan. She actually looked a little concerned and was gripping my shoulder, still nude, her own bed not far from me. She must have arrived sometime after I did.

"What did you dream?" she asked. "You've thrashed some before, but...was it Lolth's Threshold again?"

I let out my breath more slowly, willing my heart to slow down. I did not think to shake my head but nodded in confirmation instead. "Yes...the one with Lelinahdara."

Gaelan nodded. "I've heard those true-ritual flashbacks can last a century in some of the survivors."

What a doubly-delightful thought to land right on top of my instincts, which were still howling for secrecy about the real dream. I made a face at her. "It'll fade."

"If you say." She made what perhaps was to be a "cute" smile. "So now you're awake, may I see it?"

"What?" My head was still partly in the dream so I didn't notice her gesture with her chin until she repeated it. I looked over and saw my new red uniform folded neatly atop a shared dresser.

When I was resting in the Cloister, I'd been sleeping in Gaelan's small quarters whenever Jaunda didn't want me in hers. It had been a few weeks now; I did not have my own as of yet.

"May I see it on you?" she repeated. "I heard you came back from Rausery wearing it."

"True," I said quietly, starting to sit up on the floor pallet. "I'm wearing it for the ball."

She very nearly giggled. "Going for best costume of the festival, are you?"

I scowled at the implication that it wasn't genuine when I wore it, then smirked. No doubt that wouldn't be the last time I'd hear that in the next cycle or two. "Now you mention it...why not? I doubt many others will have the same effect on the Noble guests."

Gaelan granted me that and, after I'd stood up and dressed in the soft clothing, she helped me secure the armor properly. Normally it was me helping her; we'd gotten used to a routine of sorts. As we worked my Sister's expression had become less teasing and more contemplative, even admiring. She nodded in final approval upon completion, still standing naked as I was fully dressed. "You do it justice."

Same thing D'Shea had said. Now I just had to live up to it.

Gaelan's copper eyes seemed to deepen as she looked me up and down again. "Mmm," she purred, stepping forward to plant a kiss on my mouth.

Lacking another plan right then, I accepted it, but it was extremely clear in my mind that this time, unlike every time before, if she wanted to go further, I might step back. I just might say, "No."

I could refuse, and make every effort to back it up.

However Gaelan didn't try to undress me after we'd barely put the red leathers on; this time she just leaned back with half-lidded eyes and another lingering gaze. "I see this every day and yet... this is the first time I've seen it with a new face."




Sufferance Ch. 03



She sounded a bit breathy and I caught her hand moving toward her white-adorned mound; she barely brushed it. Her scent was so familiar by this point that just the increased heat off her skin, the arousal on her part smelled...enticing.

Now came the question, if I could refuse now when I thought I couldn't before, would I choose to do so?

I didn't especially want to undress, but I couldn't deny that she smelled good; a welcome circle of something nearly serene after hours and hours of tension and revelation.

I could still say yes...but it didn't have to be like it was before.

Gaelan sucked in breath through her nose as I clasped her with red gloves beneath her jaw and covered her mouth with mine. My eyes were low and lazy but not closed, and I could see hers had gone wide. 

I'd surprised her. Every other time we began like this, playing as if I were the ranking Sister before switching roles again, it was only after she'd insisted more than once that I "needed it." I'd never initiated it; she had to seduce me.

I continued to surprise her as I gathered her naked body close and let her feel the contrast, as the red leather caressed and slid against her skin. She moaned and relaxed, looping arms around my shoulders as I slid a glove between her cheeks, barely reaching her sex from the back. I felt the heat through the material and how easily it slipped between her netherlips.

Gaelan growled eagerly and began trying to undo my belt.

I took her wrist and put it at the small of her back, holding it there as I lowered my head to suck on her nipple.

"No," I said quietly, biting it lightly after it had tightened up.

She blinked, gasped, ultimately too aroused to come down off her climb and try to negotiate with me, or to ask for clarification on my refusal.

We kissed again and I moved one hand around to the front to caress her sex as I still held one wrist behind her. She made only approving sounds.

This was a good time.

"Do you still have it?" I murmured, and she would know what I meant.

Gaelan nodded, almost whispering, "Let me get it."

I let her go, her nectar coating my leather glove and teasing my nostrils, as she left to pluck up her key from the desk. That key was never there until she reached for it, and it was not a spell with which I was familiar. Though I'd observed it was always in the same place, I had never been able to find it on my own, nor had I gotten desperate enough to break the damned desk and risk unleashing the magic it contained.

Gaelan used the unassuming chrome key to unlock a different drawer—always a different one, and sometimes they seemed different sizes—to remove D'Shea's Feldeu in its pouch. With familiar ease she brought it out, once again waving between us.

I approached her to touch her and kiss again, which she broke off early to look down, beginning to insert the matching appendage between her legs. And again I took her wrist and stopped her, covering her mouth tightly with my other hand so she couldn't utter the command word.

"No."

We'd locked eyes and her confusion was just starting to turn to suspicion, but not yet alarm. I managed to wedge a few more inches between it and her.

"I want to use it on you instead."

Gaelan shook her mouth free, her expression plain disbelieve. "You can't. You know you can't wear it. I can't even say the word unless—"

"I never said I would wear it. I want to use it on you, not ride it."

Her eyes narrowed and I could tell the moment when she decided it was time to put me in my place again. Her muscles just started to tighten but I'd already begun moving. I snapped her up off the ground entirely and dropped her hard onto her bed a pace away, a much softer landing spot than my floor pallet. 

I rolled her has we landed and she got a good grip on my plaited hair with one hand but had refused to let go of the Feldeu with her other. It gave me the opportunity to secure a hold on her in spite of the pain as she jerked at my scalp—we both knew that wouldn't be enough as I tightened by own hold. She only had seconds of consciousness left.

"Nno—" she choked off after one final thrash before slowly going limp.

I immediately tugged the Feldeu from her relaxed hand and used a leather thong from my belt to secure her hands behind her back. She would be able to work her way out of it eventually, I knew, but by then I hoped to have made my point.

I arranged her so that her face was down on the bedding and her knees propped her backside into the air. I had to use one hand to keep her balance for her, holding tightly to the knot between her wrists and using that forearm to keep her hips from tipping either way. Then I got to work.

Gaelan woke back up within a few moments, but it was to my tongue teasing her puckered netherhole and the receiving end of the Feldeu nudging and prodding at her twat, but not actually entering her.

"Sira—ah!" she started before reacting as the knob of the phallus slid over her clitoris, her anus tightening around my tongue. "No—let me—"

I chose that moment to press D'Shea's Feldeu into her, watching her flesh yield to it with moisture to spare.

"Oh!" she cried, trying to roll over but I shifted to use my weight to keep her in place. "No, Sirana—!"

I began working the magic erection in her sucking pussy, hard and fast, stunning her for a few precious seconds as I secured my hold again. It was just me, not two or more as it had been in other circumstances, as it was harder to keep her immobile than it had been with me.

Gaelan said my name several more times and continued to struggle, but each time it sounded less a command or admonishment and more as if she was growling in frustration, slowly giving up as I pummeled her snatch.

Eventually she only gasped and huffed for breath, her face grimacing and her toes curling but she stayed more or less still with her knees apart. I was very aware of my sex as it began to ache and I gripped the Feldeu harder. Now this was normally how it was between females; the receiver enjoying everything and the giver merely taking orders and focusing beyond her own need, working to please her but getting no release herself...

...except that this felt, here and now, like a decided "win." I liked that she was splayed before me and had failed to fight me off, that she was approaching climax as I forced D'Shea's cock-by-proxy to take some of her own potion whether she liked it or not.

"Oh...oh, Lolth...yes," Gaelan moaned into the bedding.

I took it as my sign to starting teasing her back-portal with my tongue again, spearing it twice, three times as she yelped and cried out louder with a screech.

Oh, I knew the sound, and I could feel it, smell it. She was definitely peaking.

I let her go soon after, withdrawing and keeping the Feldeu but standing two paces backward. I admired her puffy, glistening sex, left with a throbbing pussy of my own, as I watched her work to get her wrists free.

It took her less time than it did me to speak my full birth name.

She tossed the thong aside in frustration as she kneeled on her bed and watched me warily, glancing at my clutching hand and back up. The silence stretched for some time but I wanted her to speak first.

"Why did you do that?" she finally asked.

"I was never told I couldn't."

My tone held some accusation and now she looked a little alarmed.

"Are you...what do you mean—?"

"I mean you'll have more trouble getting me to bend over for you," I said, squeezing the life-like rod in my hand. "You and the others. Anyone else. If you thought I'd just be content to stay where I was, you thought wrong." I smiled meanly, my voice level and threatening. "I don't have to wait for a new candidate to arrive before I start climbing, Gaelan. I just found that out. After all that dung that happened, you didn't tell me. We'll just let the pecking order go naturally from now on, shall we?"

Having worked myself up, I slapped the Feldeu back on her desk and turned to leave, feeling powerful, but Gaelan jumped off the bed to get in front of me.

"Wait! Sirana, wait...don't—"

"Don't what?" I snapped.

"Don't start picking fights now—"

"I don't pick them! But I'll damned well finish them!"

"Don't do this to us," she said, sounding desperate now. "It'll ruin things—"

I sneered. "What's wrong, Gaelan, can't handle a more level field?"

"You'll have to defeat Jaunda! This isn't the way to do it, you're not ready! "she blurted. "Don't you want to know why I didn't tell you?"

"Not really," I growled, instantly disliking the idea that I couldn't choose to take on Jaunda when I wanted to.

I started to move again but she planted both hands on my shoulders, her face more furious and afraid than I'd ever seen it. She'd kept a good mask this whole time at playing quiet and tender and supportive.

She kept talking. "Sirana, we haven't had a new Red Sister in over five years and we've lost a few in that period. I've been at the bottom that whole time. You think it's bad for two months, well, you can just bite rock mold. You are going to climb one way or another, I don't see anything stopping you, that's just the way you are! But you were my first opportunity to change anything for me and—"

"If you haven't done it by now, it's not my task to let you step on my back to pretend to be higher than you are!" I raged, getting in her face. "Someone's got to be at the bottom. It won't be me!"

"Sirana, you don't understand! Rausery wants this! D'Shea sai—...."

As I watched, Gaelan's face turned a shade darker as she stopped breathing with her mouth open, the words dying in her throat as she clutched at it. The brief, wide-open panic in her eyes was completely genuine.

I leaned back, feeling my anger at Gaelan decline considerably. I recognized that affliction with more familiarity, more intimacy than I cared to admit.

It was a compulsion spell. 

Gaelan couldn't say certain things, just as I had not been able to say anything accusing my sister of dangerous mistreatment while she'd been alive. And the last mention had been of our superior.

"Oh Lolth," she murmured, and she looked nauseous and suddenly defeated. "I..." She swallowed, looked at me, at the tacky Feldeu on her desk. She nodded something to herself and went to go sit down on her bed.

I took her moment of surrender to consider her words again.

D'Shea set a compulsion spell on Gaelan; it could only mean that she completely owned her. I'd suspected as much, but it left a deep feeling of foreboding in my gut. My last conversation with our superior had hinted that I might be heading in that direction as well. Perhaps sooner, if I forced D'Shea's hand before she was ready to show it, before I really knew anything at all. Hadn't I already seen, over and over, that trying to seize power too soon meant that even if you succeeded, you likely would not keep it long?

"I would have told you, Sirana," Gaelan murmured. "I have regret."

She swallowed again, speaking heavy and slow as if she was testing what words could pass her lips.

I stood, fairly convinced that whatever the motive, Gaelan hadn't thought of it on her own. What had D'Shea said of Gaelan using the Feldeu....? Her "reward" she'd earned...

I had been sure I'd take this "public" and make it known that I was stepping over Gaelan, and anyone else who wanted to step on me could challenge me. It seemed like the direct path to what I wanted; of course I need not take the abuse anymore. Rausery had told me, shown me...and I told D'Shea about it...

I reconsidered now. I'd be setting up Gaelan as an adversary, not based on anger, just on conflicting agendas. Jaunda and the others would be close behind if I handled them the same way I just had her. D'Shea would be adjusting her plans as well, that was what she did. Long-term, what would this outing do for me? How would the sudden upheavel benefit me another five years from now? Particularly if we didn't get a new Sister any time soon...

"Can you answer a few questions for me, Gaelan?" I asked.

"I don't know. I can try."

"Fair enough. A nod or shake of the head will do. Was your...relations with me supposed to be something you'd been told you earned?"

She glanced at me, and her chin lowered just enough for me to determine it was a "yes." She winced in pain at the effort.

D'Shea had already given me that, then, I only wanted to confirm it and see if she'd make the effort to answer me. She had, and it shouldn't matter now that it had been part of her compulsion—certainly not the center.

Now I knew D'Shea wanted Gaelan to have the appearance of a higher rank, in fact or perhaps only in show. It came to me that if I let this continue for a while longer, knowing just as D'Shea knew now, that I could stop it at any point, that I might learn a bit more about my superior's plans. At the same time, I would demonstrate that I could follow her directives regardless of my inclinations or impulses. I could show her that she would not have to take measures so strong as compulsion spell with me.

D'Shea was watching to see what I'd do next. What my choice and my foresight would be. I could take Rausery's skills and use them immediately, or I could wait... I very well may need that kind of self-control, build that kind of history, in order to glean any insight from my Elder's workings. Perhaps, even better, she may let me in on her plans eventually, give me more to do. 

"Would you owe me a favor later?" I asked, approaching the side of the bed slowly.

The nude Drow looked up at me now, one white brow rising. Her throat was out-stretched and open to me and my gaze drifted to it, seeing the pulse that spoke of her lifeblood. Either she trusted me or she was not thinking right then. "For what?"

"In public, it's as it has been between us, for now," I smiled, touching her cheek. "You are the ranking Sister. Privately...I get to make you cum like you just did. I'd like to see your netherparts stretched and satisfied again by the Feldeu in my hand." 

Her pupils dilated for a moment at the imagery, but overall she did look surprised. "Why...would you offer that?"

"Does it matter? I'm willing to play D'Shea's game, Gaelan. You're right, I don't understand but I can learn, and I can help you stay off the bottom when another future Sister inevitably arrives."

Gaelan shook her head slowly, though I knew I'd hit on exactly what she wanted. She was afraid that not only I would step over her, but so would the next. By then, her window of opportunity would be closed unless she did something desperate. 

Still she sounded calm when she responded. "Sirana...I can't offer you an ironclad favor undefined—"

"It will not go against D'Shea at all," I said plainly. "And it will be in ratio with the favor I'm doing for you to give you what you want. You'll have to help me get something I want in return, when I decide what that is."

This was very different for me... Normally I did not take "help" in case they could betray me. Gaelan still could, depending on what I asked. It could be useful, and yet also I did not have to use it. Just knowing that she owed me might be enough for now.

She hesitated, chewing her lip briefly. "You have to help me until we receive another candidate, Sirana, however long that is. And the next one has to be Rausery's or it w—"

Her throat started to constrict and she stopped talking.

I didn't really like the sound of that, but then....perhaps the balance would sort itself out in unforeseen ways. The knowledge of the secret would change my outlook anyway, and I already knew that was a large part of attaining goals: the attitude. 

Before now, I'd been in the dark and almost despairing at change. Now I had direction, and things I wanted to find out, challenges before me. Gaelan would help me, probably more than once as we worked through our deal. I would play the intrigue once again, and once again I had time. I could be more patient.

"I suppose we'll have to help find that new meat, then," I winked, smiling a little. "Is it a deal? Until a new candidate is found, I won't upset your bare status, Gaelan. I will probably be working a new deal with Jaunda as well, but I won't rebel outright."

She nodded. "It's a deal, Sirana. But I... wonder why D'Shea sent you with Rausery in the first place. She had to know...or suspect what she might say to you..."

That left the both of us wondering. It seemed to conflict with any plans for Gaelan and perhaps myself, D'Shea suddenly pushing me into an environment where I'd learn to be less pliable toward her and my unit. Had she really missed the fact that deceptive omissions don't work if one extends the influence around deceived? She couldn't have missed it; it was too basic in matters of control. Extended knowledge for subordinates guaranteed that old lies wouldn't hold back the uncovered facts spilling over them.

So now I came back to where I'd been before: D'Shea had to have decided it was time I find out otherwise, and wanted to see what I'd do.

Gaelan would tell her about our deal, too. She would have to.

Fortunately, I was counting on it.

I leaned down to kiss my roommate. "I'll help you, and I'll help you dress. We'll have some fun at this ball."

Gaelan smiled slightly, tinged with an expression I've seen many times, one that implied that if one was damned, so would be everyone else.

"We deserve no less."

To be continued... 



Sufferance Ch. 04



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 2012

This story is continued. 

And I was serious about there being more story crammed in with the sex. ;) 

*****

The Grand Hall could fit two thousand Drow comfortably, which was probably about half our population... if one didn't count the various Draegloth breeds and all non-Drow slaves, servants, traders, craftmakers, and miscreants that crawled over the City.

At this festival there would be only a fraction of that capacity: several representatives from the Priesthood and their attendants, some from each of the current Twenty-Three Houses (the number was not static), *their* attendants, and a handful of wizards from the Tower. 

The magicians' purposes were mostly maintenance of various cantrips in the Grant Hall and being available to our Queen and Priestesses. One never did really know when they would need a mage. I knew I'd be watching them, too, in case I got lucky enough to find one of them familiar.

The Bred Consorts would either be attending their current Matrons, or presented by the Priestesses when the time came. Their total number was only half that of the Red Sisters; there literally were not enough to give each House even one, and it was not uncommon that the Houses with the highest current status would have two or three. 

Each "virgin" Consort (which only meant that he'd not served a Matron an official term yet; the Priestesses would not present an untried male) would prove his ability and virility atop one of Lolth's altar prior to being sent with his new Mistress at the end of the ball. This assumed there were any virgins this season. Any of those being "swapped" would also have to prove they were still capable after their previous service, with the Valsharess taking careful, magical note of their health as evidence of their treatment. 

It was for that ritual that Curgia had prepared herself and her fertility, anticipating she be the one from her House to test a Consort. It would not be her, of course, but another of her sisters tonight. I wondered if she would even show her face now?

Musicians, artisans, performers, soldiers and servants abounded, swelling the number of bodies present four-fold at least, although still only eight Red Sisters would be visible to ensure the peace. That was still expected to be plenty, although four more would remain unseen with the explicit priority to protect the Valsharess and Priestesses, should any threat make itself known. Almost a quarter of us attended this ball, which did demonstrate its importance to our traditions, such as it was, even though it was not a particularly taxing assignment.

Essentially, I was to be among those to prowl the grounds as a bright visual cue, reminding the guests to behave. If they did not behave, the Red Sisters were to make public examples of them.

Given the stories I remembered, but had never witnessed, it was not difficult to understand why it only took a visual cue to keep the inter-political disturbances at a minimum for one party. As a Noble I had always allowed for some exaggeration, but still, being given to the Red Sisters for punishment—private or public—had never sounded like a risk worth any reward. If the Priestesses had the power to bless or damn someone in the name of Lolth, then the Red Sisters had the power to desecrate and destroy to the point where it wouldn't matter what the Priestesses had thought to do.

Such a punishment had not been necessary in public for at least the length of my young life. The last victim was from before my time; all I knew was that their House did not exist anymore.

In spite of what I'd suggested to Gaelan about having fun tonight, we wouldn't be able to stand near each other often or take any cooperative activities as we had only slightly overlapping stations and areas to watch, as well as be seen. The eight of us would trade areas every half hour so as not to give the impression that we were hemmed to one plot while coverage would still be constant.

I'd taken my first position to the side and closest to the door as the guests and representatives arrived in due fashion in their fine, flowing dress and artful decorations and masks. The "costume" part was very loosely interpreted with stylized props or headdresses that implied something in addition to being Noble, mostly with coloring to take best advantage of candle and torchlight or glowing lichen. No Noble Drow would truly try to dress as anything other than what they were. Why should they?

It came back to me as the Grand Hall began to fill that before, I'd found the social rituals to be fairly boring unless I either became engrossed in a plot or managed to seduce an interesting male from another House. Otherwise, I would have been just as happy to skip them. Since that was often not an option, it was also why I had gone looking for trouble or challenge.

I never thought I was entirely alone in that outlook, though there was also the fact that the higher up one's status was, the more they tended to oppress those wishing to overturn the boulder. They were happy where they were, more or less, and wanted it to remain in power as long as possible.

My former House was the Thirteenth House, somewhat below the middle but threatening to slide further thanks to a Matron who seemed to run out of steam, a First Daughter obsessed with Priestess rituals, a stupid, short-sighted Second Daughter as heir after the death of the first, and a smarter, more determined Third Daughter who could not be the favored one—because she was ultimately incapable of performing the one duty that was non-negotiable in being a Matron: bearing children. 

Perhaps House Thalluen had slipped further since Mother had sent me away. I didn't know.

I realized that a representative from House Thalluen would be here tonight. Curiously, it did not have the shocking impact one might have expected; I hadn't given it any thought until now. The challenges presented by the Sisters had dwarfed anything back at my birthplace, and I felt no longing for it anymore. The last time I'd had any contact at all was a brief visit home after a decade at Court which had not ended well. That had been more than five years ago. It was only natural curiosity that I wondered whether I would know the one they sent.

I made my assigned rounds, observed more gestures and leans to whisper than I ever had before, now not having to engage myself. I saw faces I recognized but they would quickly avert their gaze if I came near them. Three betrayed their shock at recognizing me but quickly covered it up. 

I had to admit that was enjoyable though I kept my face like stone; before now the intimidation would not have been there, for they were several Houses higher in status than I had been. Now, it was all due to the uniform.

Well, that and what wearing the uniform spoke of my training and "appetites" for certain kinds of torture.

I spotted Curgia after a time; she had indeed shown up to the ball tonight. Knowing what I knew, I could detect the strain at the corners of her smiling mouth and saw the misery in her eyes as she made her own kind of rounds, bartering and hinting with various members, indirectly comparing agendas. More than once her hand touched her abdomen, but it wasn't in proud anticipation. From the way she was drinking the fermented spirits, no one would expect her to be carrying. Of course, it had only been a few days; everything she felt had to be only the ghost in her anxious mind of what she knew was to come.

I had plenty of warning and time to shift out of line of sight when I at last saw the representative from my former House; it was fortunate, because I was genuinely surprised. The Matron herself had arrived, and immediately I could see why. She had somehow managed another pregnancy very recently; she was making sure all could see the round bump beneath her draped elegance.

The red leather of my glove softened the tips of my fingers as they dug into my palm. Actually seeing her, and seeing her pregnant, I felt more reaction in my chest. It was plain our Mother was just replacing us, all of us, and at first I truly hated her. A spiteful thought crossed my mind, of making sure the new babe, if a girl, did not reach adulthood...

Given another moment to reconsider, however, I had to ask what else could Mother do? What would I do in her place? She would never have me returned to her; I knew that and so did she. Red Sisters never returned to their Houses. Plus she was showing the good sense to pass on giving the future of House Thalluen to Kaltra the Incompetent. At least she was still capable of bearing young, unlike her Third born had been.

Had been. I could conceive now, though, thanks to the Priestesses...but only when it would offer me no benefit at all. Had I been fertile upon my blood sister's death, Mother might have considered me seriously as the Thalluendara, the chosen Heir in spite of the birth order. I would not have remained Thalluensareci.

And my life would be very different right now.

I refocused and continued on my rounds; I made no special effort to be visible to the Matron of Thalluen, but it was inevitable in the Grand Hall with the light and the bright red of my leathers. I'd not been looking at her when she first caught sight, I figured, because when our eyes did meet, she did not blink.

Instead she smiled slightly, showing what could be a guarded measure of pride in her classical copper eyes, though she soon looked away like all the rest. I approached her anyway, getting within several paces as Nobles around her became aware of me and stiffened, parting for me or taking a deliberate step away from Matron Thalluen. None gave away whether they caught the likeness between us, though I'd have thought only the blind would miss it.

"You honor Lolth's festival with your presence, Matron," I said, looking meaningfully at her swollen belly.

I knew Mother would be dissecting my words and my tone, trying to decide if I meant a threat to her unborn. I didn't; it was another grudge that would do me no good at all. I let her see the lack of menace.

Finally she nodded, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "Our humble thanks, Red Sister. That was our most faithful wish. Bless and keep the Valsharess, Defender."

I nodded and continued on.

There it was. The last acknowledgement there may ever be between us. I belonged nowhere but with the Red Sisters, my new family just as they had said, and Gaelan closer to a true sister than that baby would ever be. If my former House ever drew the attention of the Red Sisters, I knew I would be one of those chosen to deal with it—as a test of loyalty, no doubt—but for the time being, I could let it all go. I might as well.

I had plenty of time to watch everyone three times over and the freedom to move among them without obstruction or delays. Of course I noticed the Noble male counterparts on the arms of the named guests, and a quiet pang of longing was present but also...I noted that they appeared in a new light to me. It seemed to have been so long since I'd been around them that, now being surrounded, they moved differently, smiled differently than before. 

My plainest thought was that it was more obvious which males actually had more will and sway over their Matrons or Mistresses. Not all of them stood by handsomely, with interest only for what gifts and compliments could be offered them. Some may be using what favor they could garner toward less tangible ends. 

Before I would have laughed at the thought, but it was there, I was quite sure. Moreso with this than with Kerse's eye contact with at me through the spy wall. I just hadn't cared to see it before. All I had been hunting before for were ones who wanted to play, or those few who wanted to fight against their status, overtly rebellious and ready to be dominated. They had been particularly delicious. 

But how could they not learn subtlety over time, the same way a Daughter could? They couldn't all be like the subservient Consorts or the—

My eyes landed on a trio of wizards who'd been talking with each other nearer to the musicians who were playing their strings and air pipes. As one they saw me and two looked away immediately while I could have sworn the third had given me an inviting look.

Perhaps some of them could just enjoy danger and challenge nearly as much as a female.

I didn't break stride as I changed course to approach them; the two cautious individuals did not look happy, but the one with playful, rust-colored eyes was surprised. I supposed he expected I'd ignore his bedroom gaze. 

No. I actually wanted a closer look at these three. And if one wanted to play, I would take the opening at least to learn his name. For later. I still wanted to find that one bitter wizard in a Tower with a population only somewhat more than the Red Sisters. One possibility might be to persuade a brother wizard to give him up.

At the same time, the mental image of this particular wizard willingly disrobing and stretching out underneath me, offering me a cock at full attention.... I groaned inwardly.

I took a moment to note the modest, full robes they wore. The material was uncharacteristically thick for most Drow, and it partially obscured their shape. They favored the darker shakes of blue, though I didn't miss the not-just-decorative threads of purple and gold mixed in at the hems; ultimately owned and directed by the Valsharess and the Priestesses. 

The one flirting with me had a subtle swath of brown draped over one shoulder as well; it meant he was connected to the army and therefore probably a battle mage. The other two had no such marks, and so were probably Tower researchers.

I reflected that "my" wizard had been naked at the time his invisibility spell was just beginning to wear off; I had no idea what his specialty was, if he had one. Whatever of that, though, I was reasonably sure the battle mage was not the one I sought. My nose would tell me for sure once I got close enough.

"Red Sister, you honor us," he said, betraying no nervousness. "Is there some urgent service for which you need one of us? We will assist and gladly."

His tone withheld any suggestion, and he was not leering; he could have been legitimately asking whether I needed a scribe to pen and deliver a message, or someone to relight one of the magic candles that had gone out in the chandelier above. Yet I could have asked instead that he take my arm to go somewhere more privately, and he'd have done it without blink.

The other two, however, looked a little green around the edges, clearly desperate to hope that the double entendre was not accepted. It appealed to my hunter's side; the reluctant could be so much fun when I knew they had to submit sooner or later. But that was not my purpose here.

I tried to decide whether or not to take the direct method of answering my question, which might give my wizard advance warning if none of these three were who I sought. I knew they gossiped about others as much as any Drow clique. However, it would also depend how many within the Tower knew the details of Red Sister initiation, and whether my wizard was paranoid enough to have let others know one of the Sisters might try to find him. My guess was "not many" on the former, but "likely" on the other.

I decided I could do a mix of direct and indirect; I had my opening, after all.

I took a step closer to the battle mage and leaned slowly. 

"Don't move," I warned in a low purr, and brought my nose and mouth to brush exceedingly lightly against his smooth throat. I heard him drawn in air, excited. Meanwhile I concentrated on his scent. New, fragrant and attractive but definitely not one I'd smelled before. I moved back and took a step to sample the second one immediately after; his scent was bitter-tinged with fear and had sweet undertones. He probably drank a lot of hot, seasoned drinks. Not my cup of taze, so to speak, but he was also one I had never smelled before.

The other two shuffled just a little bit as the third one went stiff for his turn; also bitter-tinged, but this time was more savory. And new.

None of them were "my" wizard.

I leaned back and stepped back, smiling without showing teeth; only the battle mage would meet my eyes but he looked a little baffled (and probably annoyed at the other two receiving equal attention).

"Very nice, I'll wager you can think under pressure," I complimented the battle mage, gesturing to his brown sash.

It worked beautifully. He beamed.

"Three skirmishes, no casualties thanks to me, Red Sister."

I nodded, surveying the room again periodically as we poke. I was still on assignment. "Against what?"

He had the grace to clear his throat in playful humility; he wasn't going to overplay his worth at first meeting. "Small bands of raiders with a few troublesome gnomes, Red Sister. But I will be ready for more challenging work when the time comes."

Very well done; he sounded almost devoted. "And your name, mage?"

"Callitro, Sister," he answered, and did not ask for mine.

"You talk to many Red Sisters, Callitro?"

"No, Sister."

I quirked my brow and my smile. "Do you 'not talk' with many Red Sisters, Callitro?"

He laughed, understanding my meaning. "Alas. Only admiration thus far, Sister. "

"Indeed."

Possibility must have been shining in his mind just as it was in mine; mutually beneficial relationships had their place but I was still wary of them. It came down to total knowledge; if he knew more of Red Sisters than I knew of wizards, it would ultimately work in his favor, not mine. On the other hand, if he knew very little and I learned more of the Tower, then he would be worth the risk.

I also found myself wondering why I hadn't taken a pregnancy-prevention draught before the party? Surely I had other orifices to use, but it had been a while since male cream graced my inner thighs...

I still scanned the room as I stood near the wizards; it was a given that at least one Red Sister would note me in the swirling crowd and probably understood my motivation. A few Nobles would have noticed, too, but they wouldn't know why. The Priestesses weren't yet present with the Consorts, and the Valsharess was sitting as she had been, receiving one bow after another. Who knew what all She saw?

I had stopped by the wizards, talked to them, and it was known. I couldn't leave without something in exchange for that.

"Thus far..." I echoed the wizard's last words with a suggestive gaze, all in the eyes as I kept my expression placid.

Callitro maintained eye contact for three full seconds before looking down, a perfectly timed and proper signal of interest, despite the primal desire I knew was there; I could sense the heat coming off his skin.

My old self would have found an empty chamber or secluded bit of garden right now; my new self could not abandon her post. Nor did I know whether I could meet him after the worship ball.

I reached up to barely touch his upper arm. "Come."

He seemed to forget his gaping companions as he took a few steps to the side with me; not so easy to hear casual conversation when standing closer to the music.

"Do you receive visitors?" I asked in his ear and he shivered slightly before learning back.

The burnt-orange of Callitro's eyes locked on mine again and for longer than technically proper; it finally occurred to me that he was fascinated by the color. He was not the first.

He was also not slow in the head.

"No, no casual visitors but...make an order for me by name," he murmured. "Something you need; a potion, a tool, an enchanted weapon. Send it through Phaelus, my Head Mage, I've seen him talk with the Sisters. You may check my progress as you see fit. I have my own small quarter."




Sufferance Ch. 04



He'd given me everything I needed to find him again, and it was not time-dependent. The way he spoke, his lips would have been very difficult to read as well. Bravo, young mage. I wanted to smile widely at him but refrained. 

I nodded once. "Return to your duties."

He nodded, bowed slightly and obeyed, stepping away as I began my rounds again.

Two marks on a candle passed and nothing else of interest happened until the Priestesses finally entered. They announced at last the most anticipated part of the ball: the demonstration and awarding of the Bred Consorts.

The Valsharess stood slowly then, raising both hands slowly into the air, the shimmering purple and gold fabric of her gown set off well even across the hall from me.

"Let the Consorts return to Me."

I witnessed an ever-so-brief moment of separation anxiety as fifteen beautiful male Drow tentatively took their first step away from their Matron and toward their Queen.

The anxiety wasn't only on the young breeders' side, either. I chuckled softly at some of the Matron's expressions; so determined were they to get him—or if not him, then another—back by the end of the night.

Being able to see all of them all at once was a rare treat, and I had a harder time keeping my vigilance on the Grand Hall rather than simply gazing contentedly at such a display for as long as I could. 

Even standing halfway down the Hall, I could see rare features; several pairs of blue eyes like mine, but also green and purple and even pink. One had birth-given golden hair—and he was far too young to have earned it with age—and another had bluish-white hair like some of the cave luminescence I'd seen in the wilderness. There were several unusual but always graceful shapes for their eyes, nose, lips, and ears; and one could see most of those traits shared among the Noble Houses. My own eyes were from a couple generations back, when Thalluen had had a Consort for a time. 

The Consorts were mostly of the same height; their heads reaching no higher than an average Matron's ear. All of them had healthy and trim bodies, and their endowments could be nothing less than satisfying. I could make the very educated guess that they were bred to be somewhat larger in girth or length beneath their small clothes than their overall size would indicate.

As the Consorts all returned to the platform with the Valsharess, I picked out the one I almost thought of as "mine," but more accurately the one that I had poached for a very brief moment. I was plainly curious to whom he would go next. He actually did not have any of the exotic colors to his hair or eyes, but his features were perfectly balanced and he moved with grace. Perhaps if he'd had some odd coloring to him I might've known to stay away from him...

...but probably not.

The decisions on who would be favored was already decided as far as I knew; what happened here tonight were the "signs" from Lolth saying which Consort to gift the deserving. I'd always been so skeptical of this part; generally I thought the Priestesses just want to see the Nobles try to seduce a particular Consort in public. 

Perhaps a step beyond that was also give the poor, religious slave a last-minute possibility to avoid serving a particular Mistress. All he had to do was make his dick go limp when she touched him. A clear Sign from Lolth that the pairing would not be a fertile one, yes?

I pulled my eyes from the spectacle to again sweep and move through the crowds, who now did not notice me quite as much. It would be a repetitive but titillating ritual and I was sorry I couldn't watch the whole thing. Such fond memories of the previous two.

Each Consort would be presented to at least three members from three different Houses. The Nobles would touch him, maybe talk to him, and wait for the sign which of them was chosen by Lolth to claim him—then the chosen one would mount him right there so we could all see he still had value as a Consort. The ritual required a seeded sex to be presented afterward, one of the few times Nobles showed their privileged twats to public eyes in something less than a perfect state of grooming.

It reminded me of a story somehow. All it lacked was a small trophy and three jealous and vain Gods.

It was possible for me to become bored keeping guard while everyone placed their plots on hold until after the show. I could smell the rise in excitement and heat around me. Alas, my cunt may be aching for want of cock much worse after this, worse than I had been after I'd finished claiming Gaelan's bound body—

Speaking of whom...

Gaelan appeared in my line of sight; she was standing just behind a purple banner that nearly touched the floor, and gestured so briefly that I almost missed it:

*Out of sight here.*

Hm? Oh yes, I'd forgotten...

I slipped past the distracted clusters of Drow, climbed a few polished steps and slipped behind the banner as well to meet my Sister. We were farther back and deeper in shadow now, out of the chandelier light and in the outer walkway that ringed the Grand Hall.

Gaelan didn't speak but continued with the more common Drow sign language. There existed gestures unique in meaning to the Red Sisters but I was still learning them so she slowed down a bit. 

*Prowling is discouraged here. Priestesses say it interrupts magic flow.*

I nodded and signed back, *Yes, the Elder said. I forgot.*

Gaelan smirked. *Distracted by the wizard or the Consort?*

I smiled fully and answered without shame: *The Consort.*

If they were going to tease me about it regularly, I could always think they were just a little jealous that I'd touched one very intimately, everywhere, and that I'd even had one of those prizes up inside me for a few seconds.

Gaelan's stomach moved in silent laughter before she leaned by the banner to look out again. She was still for a time and then gestured, *There. I recognize him.*

A pause.

*Still beautiful.*

I heartily agreed.

He was the third to be brought up on the altar, and my Sister and I watched both the crowd and the altar from where we stood. Breathing all around was heavy and the air very warm; a few subtle couplings were already going on. By the time the rituals ended, most would have found a way to release. Then they'd start over.

Most. Not the Red Sisters, I was guessing. Maybe only later, when the Feldeus came out. Although personally, I wished I could grab Callitro for just a little while before returning to the cloister... Or perhaps if someone did something stupid and was made a public example, I knew we would take out every stroke of their sexual frustration on the one being punished.

My Consort lay down obediently, his white, flowing hair draping off the altar rather like mine had done during my final trial. The Valsharess began at his toes and ankles like she did the two previous, testing his muscles and movement, aged fingers grazing over perfect skin. She cupped his "pouch and wand," massaged it, and moved further up until she'd touched arms to fingers to face, and combed her hands through his hair. Somehow he kept his expression quite impassive through it; I couldn't read anything, whether he enjoyed it, disliked it, or was sincerely neutral.

*Experienced, that one,* Gaelan commented. *Perfect control.*

I raised one brow at that. I clearly remembered him drawing a weapon on me, defying me, glaring at me, trying to explain the mistake I was about to make before I stuffed that turnip in his mouth. He would have kept fighting me...and yet his member became stiff for me when I penetrated him; I recalled his moan of both arousal and despair. He would have cum for me, too, given enough time. I doubted he'd been acting at any moment of our encounter.

He had genuine emotions and responses, but in thinking about it now, even Gaelan probably hadn't seen much of it. He showed only obedience and fear when she showed up in her red uniform. I'd had only said that I'd attacked him, forced him, had not been in my right mind. Few details were known about the words and looks exchanged between us, though.

How often did the elite females really get to see the Consorts' responses? Or did they even care? I myself didn't care for limp fishes, such as his uninteresting behavior now. As Gaelan had said, he was acting.

"Unsoiled perfection," the Valsharess announced, and another Priestess stepped up to take over.

I shouldn't have been surprised that it was Wilsirathon, and that she called forth Houses Walulis, Qevren, and... Itlaun. It also wasn't a good thing that I felt a hot dislike for Curgia all of a sudden, and hoped she wouldn't get "my" Consort...

I took a slow breath out. No. That feeling had to go away. It was the old me. It didn't matter except when D'Shea or Rausery or the Red Sister Prime said it did.

Still, I watched Curgia gesture to another who had to be her younger sister, whisper harshly and nudge her forward. The younger sister was prettier than Curgia, but clearly inexperienced in the ways of Court; she did not know exactly what to do. The last-minute switch on House Itlaun's part was apparent and more than one head tilted curiously.

I forgot to keep sweeping the crowds as I focused on Wilsirathon, Curgia's sister, and my Consort. I suppose I justified it in that D'Shea would want to know about this especially; it tied in directly to a recent report of Jaunda's, and she wasn't here to witness.

Wiilsirathon began to chant and invited the three Drow to touch the Consort; her smile when she looked at Curgia and back at the sister told me that Curgia's House would definitely get him. At least the suspense was over with that spoiler and I could observe the interaction itself.

The contrast among the invited was apparent; the other two Nobles touched with entitlement and less reverence, their exploration heavy-handed as if perhaps he was not their first choice anyway. My Consort apparently didn't like that. He subtly shrank from them, and his member did not grow for them. The younger Itlaun sister, however, was in plain awe, her mouth slightly open as she gazed on his face. As she barely touched his fine jaw and the edge of his ear with the soft tips of her fingers, I saw a small shift in his sex. He was half-erect within another few seconds.

Wilsirathon nodded once and gestured for the other two to step back. "Lolth has spoken!"

*My ass,* I thought. What, had she bribed the other two to act the boorish twits so the clueless, enamored one would be the obvious preference to pair with him for the public enjoyment?

"Tulia of House Itlaun, will you accept the care and devotion of this gifted Consort for one decade? Will you breed him with your family line in the name of our Valsharess and the beauty of our race?"

Curgia's sister dragged her gaze from my Consort and blinked at Wilsirathon before it dawned on her that she'd somehow been awarded his service. She glanced at Curgia once then nodded vigorously. 

"Yes...yes, Priestess! We p-pledge to care and honor him while he is in our keeping for—for one decade from tonight, my Priestess!" She made a bow to her and to the Valsharess. "Our eternal thanks and gratitude, in the name of Lolth."

"Then let the Court witness the bonding of him with House Itlaun."

I looked at Curgia as my Consort took a deep breath and touched himself briefly. Her jaw was tight and she was probably gritting her teeth; she was trying not to look at Wilsirathon. At the same time, she nodded encouragement when Tulia hesitantly began to remove her dress in front of the crowd. 

I reflected that I had not been particularly modest about being watched growing up; my childhood had made it pointless. Tulia, however, seemed to have been brought up another way, and perhaps even I would have quavered a little at an entire Hall, hundreds of eyes, all focused on me and waiting for me to mount a coveted cock.

I knew Curgia wished this was her, but she did a good job hiding it. It made two of us when Gaelan looked curiously over at me. I smiled, shrugged, and gestured, *Aren't they cute?*

Tulia had a lithe, dancer's form, and was probably barely old enough to be at Court. Side-by-side I could tell my Consort was a bit older than her, and clearly had the experience between them. He was already rigid for her as she climbed up onto the altar to straddle him; he waited until her hands smoothed over his shoulders before he reached to touch her haunches.

With his guidance, she slowly eased his pole into her; she was trying not to look at the audience. My Consort thrust up encouragingly, reaching one hand at a slightly awkward angle to massage her clitoris and nodding as if to say, "the sooner we cum, the sooner they'll stop looking at us."

Such a lucky Second-born...and she had no idea how this had happened, how this had been arranged... A clear pawn, but one that a lot of Drow would have gladly swapped places with right then, including me.

Tulia eventually got into it, closing her eyes and bouncing up and down on her blessed gift, grinding, squeezing her breasts with both hands and pinching the dark purple nipples. Her moans were breathy and it wasn't clear to me how close she was until she suddenly stopped and hunched over her partner, making such an amusing, grunting squawk that it had to be genuine. There were more than a few chuckles in the front rows.

My Consort smiled, however, and braced himself against the altar to thrust up harder as Tulia was coming down. The laughter in the crowd disappeared entirely when he orgasmed; they were captivated by the way he tensed and threw his head back, his hair waving, and by the raw, enchanting cry that escaped his lips as he gave Tulia his seed.

There was a quiet beat before most of the audience breathed out and I could immediately tell which couples had continued their standing fuck after the pause as several calls and encouraging hoots rose up.

"Show Us," the Valsharess commanded, her voice the perfect pitch of anticipation for the rest of us.

Tulia swallowed and made as if to climb off the altar, but Wilsirathon held up her hand immediately. "No. Present on the altar over him."

The young Itlaun nodded immediately, mumbling an apology as she recollected the next part of the ritual the crowd had seen twice before. She stood up with her ankles against his ribs and bent over at the waist, her hair falling to brush the Consort's face as her hands reached back to part the cheeks of her backside, presenting her soggy sex to the Priestess' and the Valsharess's full view.

I couldn't see detail from where I was, but I watched Wilsirathon reach to touch the wetness between Tulia's legs. The Nobles almost always flinched when that happened and she was no exception. The elder Drow ritually glided her finger across her tongue with a grand nod.

"May House Itlaun be fruitful with genuine, bred seed, as evidence of Lolth's favor. Know that if you spurn Her Graces or those of our Valsharess, this award may be retracted."

I didn't miss the glance the Priestess shared with Curgia when she said that, but it was her younger sister who responded with the next line of acceptance and promise.

"He is yours."

Tulia quickly donned her dress as her gift sat up and she took his hand, pulling him with her naked and to make room for the next. Her older sister breathed out a sigh of relief and nodded. They shared only a few words before retreating somewhere out of sight of me but no doubt still within the Grand Hall. It would be poor manners to leave before the end, and probably fairly stupid as well. There was so much more to see.

Yes. More to see, I reflected...such as which Houses were being favored by which Priestess, which ones the Valsharess seemed suspicious of, which Consorts betrayed any emotion whatsoever on the altar. 

I became aware that, even though I was indeed aroused and still wished I could do something about it, watching the Nobles have sex with the Consorts now that "my" Consort had left just wasn't as.... potent now as it had been the first time I'd seen it. They were indeed repetitive and...mechanical? It did seem the average Noble lacked the imagination or even nearly the passion or appetite of a Red Sister. And the beautiful toys were mostly in full control of their emotions, their acting was perfect, which was somehow suddenly... frustrating, when I knew a much more real reaction could be forced from at least one of them.

To my surprise, I had to admit I was getting bored again as the seventh House sat her twat upon the seventh Consort. I started thinking about the wizards again.

My invisible wizard, specifically. One that the willing and eager Callitro possibly could help me to find. His rage and bitterness were real, unmasked and bold, not covered and suppressed like the Consort's. What would it be like to bed him, with myself as the top, whether he liked it or not? Preferably "not." What magic would he use in his defense, I wondered?

Ahhh—there was the spark, the surge of heat to my gut. The challenge, the intensity, the honest, raw emotion... That was how I wanted it. The Sisters had proved to me that I could take it as well as serve it, and where once I failed, I could always try again.

I simply waited for the worship ball to end at that point. Even the two new virgins being presented to Noble society, with their nervousness and wide-eyed gazes at the Valsharess were of no interest to me anymore.

******

Gaelan and I soon split up again to watch the outer area of the Grand Hall per our schedule. The outer halls were mostly empty, with a few trysts occurring in small side rooms nearer to the festivities. The orgy had commenced in large part on the main floor of the Hall and, interesting to me, my Sister seemed no more entranced by it than I was. 

Besides, we still had our duty.

I'd reached the far end of my patrol and was about to turn back when a soft, directionless hiss caught my ear. I turned slowly around in place, eyes piercing the dark shadows until I spotted the faint, camouflaged outline within. The next moment the void filled with strong life energy and the large body was fully visible to me even without any light. I knew exactly who it was.

Kerse.

Would D'Shea be surprised to hear that the Draegloth possessed cloaking magic? Probably not. She had also instructed me to avoid him; following her orders now meant that I walk away right now without interacting with him. 

But Wilsirathon was otherwise engaged, and her son was wandering around on his own? Was this normal? Except even if not, what would I do? And was this only a lucky coincidence? It was not a good thing that he may have sought me out. Without his Mother to control him, what—

In a flash I recalled Qivni giving him an order in the candlelit room where we'd fucked. He had obeyed at the time, if grudgingly. Perhaps she could send him on his way now, and I would not risk Wilsirathon's attention on me this soon.

I had to call my Collector. We'd see if she answered.

I reached for one of the message pellets in my third pouch, but at the movement Kerse crouched lower, his yellow eyes narrowing, and he opened his mouth wider in another hiss. He looked prepared to charge.

I held up my other hand straight out, palm forward. "Whoa. Stay."

"Nossspiderss," he demanded, muscles at his shoulders bunging in tension.

I was briefly confused but said, "No spiders, Kerse. Just this." I pulled out the pellet, holding it between my thumb and middle finger. "See? Harmless."

He sniffed in my direction suspiciously and barked shortly in alarm when I squeezed the pellet, breaking it and releasing a tiny spark of magic. At the same time, I whispered, "Qivni, aid me. Fourth side away from the altar."

The magic swallowed up the words and took them away to the chosen set of ears. Kerse wouldn't know what I'd said, if he knew I'd anything; certainly not with him barking like that.




Sufferance Ch. 04



I would rather have called Gaelan but I didn't know for sure that she could help. And as much as I wanted a good fight before some energetic sex—and Kerse could easily give that to me—I knew it was the biggest mistake I could make at this ball. I had to show D'Shea I took her warnings seriously.

"Sssirranna," the Draegloth said.

"What?" I asked shortly, taking a step back when he stepped forward.

"Sssissssterrr," he rumbled with a smile, staying crouched and ready to spring.

I didn't respond. I wanted to ask what he wanted, or if he knew I'd been watching him screw Curgia, or if he was here by luck or design....but I had to resist directing any conversation at all. Interaction had to be kept minimum or I had no defense when D'Shea eventually found out about this.

"Wanntsssss aggainn."

Tough luck. I shook my head. "No. Return to your Mother."

"SshheBusssy," he grinned.

Meaning he was out here playing. Did this sort of thing happen often?

"Sshhe hhaappy, doyou rrrightt."

He'd been punished for failing to obey her, and for giving his name to me, I guessed. He growled low and his mane raised up some as I drew a dagger and a longer blade from my belt. "Do not attack me," I commanded.

He chuckled and licked his chops, flexing his long fingers.

I narrowed my eyes, locked gazes with him. "Kerse."

He perked up a moment before shaking his head once and growling again.

"Kerse. She will be displeased. She did not command it."

"Yyesss, sshhe diid." Another chuckle and I could see his teeth clearly in the dark as he opened his mouth.

Oh, did she now? Perhaps she had, or... or was he twisting something he'd heard her say in frustration as an excuse to act now? His laughing just now to say she was busy and he wouldn't go back to her didn't quite blend with him being the dutiful son carrying out her exact order. Was Wilsirathon even that stupid to be so direct, to send Kerse alone to attack a new Red Sister at the first opportunity after her trials? I didn't think she was; I'd just witnessed her being far more manipulative and long-term than that with Curgia. What would she get out of it, other than a brief salve to her pride? What would she pay?

D'Shea had said that the opportunistic ones were the Draegloth themselves.

I was guessing he was mostly lying, but either way, it wouldn't matter if he jumped me. He was strong enough to hold me if he got a grip.

Where was Qivni?

"Kerrsse," I drew out his name, mimicking him a little, trying to sound soothing though my heart was pounding and my muscles ached for action. "Not now."

He sniffed the air, looking briefly confused but no less ill-tempered. "Yyouu waannt nnow. Hott cunnt." He gestured as if jamming two clawed fingers in a snatch. "Wanntts itt aggainn."

I believed he could smell my arousal, but that was beside the point.

When his eyes lingered on my drawn blades, I considered something else. I sheathed both of them abruptly. "Kerse. No."

His hackles lowered some when the blades disappeared and he looked confused again. I could almost read his thoughts: "You want to fight but won't?"

The message back had to be clear as crystal.

I turned my back on him and walked away. My heart pounded harder for doing something that was pure agony: knowingly exposing my back to danger in the dark. I had be plain that I didn't want to play, but if his ears were as good as his nose, then he knew I was still keyed up, still expecting to be attacked—

Which, like any of Drow blood, he would interpret as an invitation.

My theory to walk away was sound, but I didn't quite pull off the confidence this time, the will to overwhelm his.

I flung myself to the side at the last second when I sensed him about to collide, and instead of his weight, I felt his claws rake at my torso as I was thrown off balance and he continued forward. I heard his claws skidding on polished stone. The Draegloth and I scrambled to be first back upright; I was a fraction faster but didn't have a planned response against him, so at best it gave me the chance to draw my dagger and to dodge again.

Kerse didn't roar as he had in the candle chamber chasing me; he was amazingly quiet, which was telling of something, whenever I had the chance to think—

He hit me hard on his third try and we slammed to the ground. He had knocked the wind out of me and I couldn't breathe though I still gripped my dagger. I hadn't yet stabbed him but was aiming for something vital when I heard a command in another language, harsh and grating. Kerse flinched and practically threw himself away from me, chuffing in pain.

"Kerser'in'chowcz." Qivni finally stepped into my field of vision, her intense, red eyes burning into the Draegloth and her teeth bared. "Haganidtezj!"

The Draegloth glared balefully at my Collector before he all but vanished from view as his cloak-magic masked his form once again. I could hear his feet padding down one of the smaller halls.

I'd just about regained my breath when Qivni looked down at me with a scowl and knocked the toe of her boot against my ribs. "Get up."

I felt myself smiling as I remained in repose a little longer. "I need to learn... how to do that." I took another breath and looked up at her stern face. "Let me guess, you received my message but were watching for a while first to see how I handled it."

She made a face both sour and smug. "I told you the Priestess wouldn't be happy with you for what you did to her son."

That may be so, but unfortunately I wasn't sure exactly what Kerse had been doing just now, other than wanting to play. At least I was satisfied that Qivni had witnessed my attempt to disengage from the Draegloth, that he had attacked me first. 

Qivni might be a tightly-wound, controlling officer at Rausery's left hand, and one who definitely didn't like my more flippant moments, but she was loathe to lie to either Rausery or D'Shea in a report. Or so D'Shea had told me once, that I could count on it.

I shrugged before I finally sat, then stood up. She motioned with her head for me to follow her, and we moved in the opposite direction Kerse had gone. We entered a tunnel where we'd be less likely to run into wandering attendees in the halls.

"So what would you do about this in my situation?" I asked her, and she blinked at me in surprise. 

"I wouldn't have tried to overbear the will of a Draegloth on a whim in the first place," she grumbled.

"Don't give me that, Collector. You just commanded him to leave, like you did before."

She huffed a short laugh and shook her head. "No. It's a fail-safe spell we have. It makes them leave under their own power, however they came, and it hurts if they resist. It'll work on any Abyss-blooded creature." When she glanced at me and easily read my next question, she added, "I doubt you can learn the pronunciation. It has to be exactly right, and you do not have the discipline. Few do."

I smirked. "I seem to recall you saying something similar when you couldn't climax from my tongue."

She glared at me. "You were reluctant. I doubt you were trying very hard."

"I was reluctant when you pounded my backhole, too, yet I peaked when you untied one wrist. You just can't let go and relax with me, Qivni."

My Collector hissed. "Jaunda's perfect for you."

"Oh, I don't know; I had a lot of fun straddling Rausery, too, after she squirted all over my face."

Qivni definitely didn't like hearing that. "Liar."

"If it helps you sleep," I teased, noticing my cheeks hurt somewhat from my grin.

What had we been talking about again? Oh, yes.

"So what would you do in my situation?" I asked again, and she gave me an incredulous look that I savored.

"You should offer your gaping netherhole to serve him and his mother permanently," she snapped.

I stopped walking and so did she; our eyes locked. After a beat, I asked, "Did I fuck your brother at Court or something?"

Qivni growled and drew back her hand to strike me. I didn't flinch. She noted it a second before she slapped me anyway. 

"You obey only when it suits you," she rumbled. "You are a volatile potion waiting to explode on a selfish whim. I've warned the Elders about you, you learned too young to question things you shouldn't, but they wanted you anyway. If you ever, and I mean *ever,* damage the Sisterhood by using it for your own gain, I'll see you punished in some way you haven't imagined yet."

Well. At least that placed all her cards on the table. Somehow I doubted Qivni would believe me if I said I never intended to betray the Sisterhood; I belonged with them. Not only that, but I believed any of us who did would be hunted down and a very long time dying. It was noteworthy that Qivni protected an ideal in which she saw me as somehow separate, despite the fact that I had as much to lose as she did. Much closer to fanatic zeal than practical cunning, though I knew both had their place in our society. 

"What was your initiation like?" I asked curiously, ignoring her warning and my stinging cheek but expecting another.

"Keep talking and I'll convince Elder Rausery your training requires a solitary fight with a Drider," she seethed. "Now let's return to our posts. The ritual ended a while ago but they're still fucking. Soon they'll start stumbling home and we have to make sure they all leave."

My Collector was so much fun.

Gaelan found us quickly; I believe she'd been actively searching for me though she covered any real concern when she saw Qivni. "What happened? Where were you?"

Rausery's officer shook her head and gave me a narrow gaze. "She drew attention she shouldn't have. Be sure to tell D'Shea that she needs lessons on not being cornered."

"Yes, you're right," I grinned, "somehow Rausery and I skipped right to the part about getting out of trouble by calling the right support with those pellets. I don't know why I never thought about avoiding an attack altogether. Thank you, Qivni." 

She frowned so hard I thought it might stick, and Gaelan gave us both a look.

"We need to collect before the Valsharess before we can leave. We're waiting on you two," my roommate said.

Qivni immediately fell back into duty mode; we all gathered around her as the ranking Sister and went back out into the Grand Hall where four other Sisters, the invisible ones, stood two to each side of the Valsharess. The seven of us lined up in front of her to bow as Qivni gave her oath of service on all our behalves.

I was still wearing a black belt, even with the red leather, and still stood out in a way I wished I didn't, because the Valsharess looked at me again. The tawny eyes from my dream returned for an instant before I banished it. I would not think about anything but...well...

I pictured Gaelan fucking me with D'Shea's Feldeu; I was on my back this time and my dark, smooth legs were wide open. I was learning to obey. That was alright to think about. It seemed the Valsharess smiled just a bit before she looked away from me and to scan the others as well.

She thanked us for keeping the peace in what was a productive and satisfactory worship ball, and did not ask for a report. I was sort of guessing that it was supposed to come by another route: after D'Shea and Rausery had spoken with us, after the Red Sister Prime had spoken with them, who then came to Her. 

It was roundabout but I understood; there were too many possible ways to be observed here, and it wasn't proper or necessary for our Queen to squeeze eleven Red Sisters into her private chambers and waste her time interviewing all of us individually. Much more efficient that there was a chain of command.

I still didn't drop my mental guard, or rather didn't stop enjoying my memories, until we'd been dismissed of our Grand Hall duties and were to return to our Elders.

D'Shea needed her report before we could retire, as the ball had taken most of the cycle and it was getting late. I may have spent more of the time being bored but somehow I was still worn down.

Jaunda was present when we were bid to enter, and she grinned widely at me as if to say, "There you are, how'd it go?" She looked like she'd been having a far more interesting time than us; her armor was soiled with blood and Underdark sludge. She had no marked injuries that I could tell, not even healed ones as there was only minimal damage to her uniform, and I changed my mindset then and there not to expect to retire very soon. Jaunda probably had some extra energy she wanted to work off.

I was actually a little jealous; she'd seen action, maybe a lot of it, and she could come back and fuck the hell out of one of the younger Sisters. Maybe at the least, she could help me get rid of thoughts of Kerse and the Consort as well.

I nodded acknowledgement to D'Shea first, then Jaunda, sighing silently as we got into our places for report: D'Shea sat elegantly, Jaunda standing at her right, Gaelan and I facing them, shoulder-to-shoulder.

For whatever reason, my Elder didn't feel the need for small talk. Maybe she was tired, too. "Your report, Gaelan."

"No incidents in the Grand Hall that required our interference, Elder," she began. "It was a peaceful event, as planned."

D'Shea nodded. "Did the Valsharess speak to either of you?"

Gaelan shook her head. "No, Elder."

"Any of the Priestesses?"

Gaelan said, "Not to me." And looked at me.

They all did.

I cleared my throat. "No Priestesses spoke to me, Elder."

After a beat and with Jaunda smirking, D'Shea asked, "But?"

Here we go. I made my expression suitably serious. "Kerse accosted me while I was on patrol at the fourth end, farthest from the events."

D'Shea tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "Alone?"

I nodded. "He'd been cloaked with magic. Not invisible as when bending light, or Calling Darkness, but more the dark-vision camouflage that mimics the energy waves around him."

"I'm glad you can recognize the difference. Where was his Mother?"

D'Shea definitely wasn't surprised to hear that Kerse could vanish from view. I wished I knew what else she knew of his abilities.

I considered her question. "I don't know. The last of the Consorts had been awarded already and the Hall was in coitus. At that time, the Priestesses were still present but were no longer confined to the platform. She could have been anywhere and I wouldn't know."

"But you didn't sense another in the hall with you."

I shook my head. "Kerse also said she was busy and he wouldn't return to her as I told him to. He said she would be 'happy' if he 'did me right.'"

My Elder did not look happy. "And what did you say?"

"Nothing. I called Qivni with a message pellet. I remembered she'd dismissed him once before at my trial and thought she could aid me."

Both D'Shea and Jaunda looked pleasantly surprised and I relaxed a bit. My Elder actually smiled. "Good, Sirana. What happened next?"

"Qivni didn't arrive immediately. I stalled a bit and kept distance. I'd drawn weapons to warn Kerse off but it wasn't working. He wanted a fight and to fuck again like before; he said so. So instead...I sheathed them and tried to walk away. He charged me from behind and we did have a very brief fight. That was when Qivni interfered and used the...fail-safe words to get him to leave. He got off me, re-cloaked, and went away."

D'Shea went still when I mentioned "fail-safe" but didn't comment; I wagered she was just filing away what I'd learned. "Anything else?"

"Well, he never roared. Growled and hissed, but he was quieter than before."

"And you find that significant."

I nodded. "He tried to tell me he was acting on his mother's orders, but he was being quiet about it. He didn't want to draw attention."

D'Shea stared hard at me with an unwavering gaze. "Are you saying that you believe he's stalking you free of Wilsira's will, Sirana?"

I stared back. "I'm saying he was quiet, Elder. For whatever purpose."

She nodded, satisfied with the answer. "And Qivni? I don't imagine she was pleased with you."

"Correct...she doesn't like my 'whims' and lack of discipline," I said. "Threatened to see me creatively punished were I ever to 'damage' the Red Sisters."

Jaunda chortled quietly and D'Shea glanced at her, looking amused as well. "Well. Were that the case, she'd have to get in line. But we chose you because you weren't like her, Sirana. Bear that in mind."

"Yes, Elder," I smiled.

"Also remember that she still aided you, in spite of her dislike of you."

"Yes, Elder." I figured a similar and not-too-embellished version of this was being told to Rausery right now.

D'Shea had me recite the encounter to her again from the beginning, getting all the little details and confirming the order of events. Finally she seemed satisfied and looked to Gaelan. "Did you talk to anyone?"

My roommate nodded. "Rowena of House Itlaun. She is the Aunt of Curgia and Tulia, who were awarded a Consort this evening."

My face must have betrayed something because D'Shea's gaze flicked to me and back again. "You spoke to Rowena first?"

Gaelan nodded. "I asked after her Matron, Curgia and Tulia's mother, as she was not present. I was told that she had other pressing matters and sent the three of them in her stead. Not uncommon, of course, but I think their Matron may be ailing. Just a feeling."

I quirked my brow at my roommate. Just a feeling? Surely D'Shea wouldn't let her get away with that.

Except that she did.

"Why did that House draw your attention?" D'Shea asked, watching Gaelan closely.

She grinned. "They were the ones who received Sirana's Consort, Elder."

Jaunda laughed suddenly and D'Shea had to cover her smirk with her hand. 

I gave Gaelan a wry look. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

Jaunda and Gaelan both shook their heads and chuckled, but D'Shea waved her hand to quiet them.

"No, no...I like this. That Consort will remember Sirana and Gaelan, and he will be kept close to the Matron and her daughters. We have a way in to that House for the next decade."

Gaelan looked surprised, "Well, I suppose, but...why?"

Which told me that my roommate didn't know about Curgia getting fucked by Kerse.

"This is interesting," Jaunda commented to no one in particular, though she was eyeballing me, and D'Shea nodded in agreement.

"House Itlaun is being favored by Wilsirathon," the Elder filled Gaelan in. "But she is planning to break Curgia eventually to control her, who will control Tulia. The Priestess must already know their Matron is weakening."

"Wilsirathon," Gaelan repeated, looking at me. "Kerse's mother."

"You understand why I'm interested, yes?" D'Shea asked, and her subordinate answered affirmatively. "Good. Curgia is likely pregnant by Kerse, but even though that may not last to term, it is a clear sign Wilsira intends to control her. However, if Kerse took some action against Sirana tonight, then I want Wilsirathon and her most recent House of interest watched where possible. It's fortunate that Curgia got Sirana's Consort; that will only make it easier for us."

*Meaning...* I blinked.

"Yeah, Thall," Jaunda laughed at me. "You'll see him again. We'll need you and Gaelan to talk to him."

I might've been happier about that, but I wasn't. I knew how sexy he could be when he resisted, and I couldn't touch him again without risking severe punishment. Maybe that was why they were laughing at me.

I cleared my throat. "Elder, what if Kerse had been acting on a...misinterpretation of his Mother's desires? Not on his own, but not exactly what his Mother may have planned?"

D'Shea was quiet a moment and nodded. "Possible. I still want to watch Wilsira regardless."

I nodded, satisfied with the acknowledgment. "Of course. It will no doubt reveal other intelligence. But...how often does a member of the Priesthood try to punish a Red Sister for a personal slight?"




Sufferance Ch. 04



D'Shea looked at Jaunda, who shrugged and answered me, "Mostly just through undesirable missions. And if the Sister is killed in action, well..."

"Exactly," I said. "It makes no sense to send Kerse after me when it was him that failed the first time."

"So you are certain Kerse acted on his own," D'Shea stated flatly.

"No, not certain, but I think he just wanted to fuck me, Elder, not punish or torture me. He could smell me—"

"Then consider it noted, Sirana," she said. "And pray it's not the case that Kerse would rather fuck you in secret without his Mother knowing. She'll be insane with jealousy if she decides that's what's going on and thrice as dangerous to you." 

D'Shea let that sink in for a moment then continued. "Inform me immediately of any more contact with him, but we're watching his Mother for the time being. I don't believe she'll risk the Valsharess's wrath by harming Her organization directly, but she may cause trouble or annoyances for us still, however subtly. Trust me, I know them better than you, Sirana."

I nodded and bowed a wordless apology. When she put it like that, then yes, I supposed I could hope that my instincts were wrong about Kerse's intent in being there.

Even if I did have a very bad feeling about it.

"Gaelan, did you speak to anyone else?"

"No, Elder."

"Alright. Sirana, did you speak to anyone else besides Kerse?"

Oh, great. This wasn't going so well this eve. But I really did have to choose my lies and omissions carefully.

"My former Matron, Elder," I admitted, and she nodded.

"What did you say?"

"A blessing. That her state honored the festival."

"Her state?"

I nodded. "She is about a year pregnant."

"I see. She caught well before you entered the Sisterhood, then, and she did not send a message to you at Court."

I shrugged. How long had D'Shea known that of my mother before she recruited me? "It doesn't matter now, Elder. I am of the Sisterhood now."

Her copper eyes were still boring into me. "Why did you speak to her at all?"

I barely paused. "To make my new allegiance clear. To let her know without doubt that I was no longer part of her House. She acknowledged it without contest. That was all. I walked away."

D'Shea nodded acceptance. "Anyone else you spoke with?"

I sighed inwardly. "A battle mage named Callitro who stood with his two colleagues."

Jaunda covered her mouth with one gloved hand, looking both thoughtful and amused, while Gaelan stood quiet and non-judging.

"Tell me about that conversation."

"All flirting," I responded. "Callitro wanted me to know he was at my disposal at the worship ball, I had only to ask. Alas, I could not use him for anything in particular, but... he told me how to get in touch with him later at the Tower, if I so desired."

"Really," D'Shea said rather deadpan. "And how is that?"

"Requisition the making a magical item, request him as the maker. He said the contact's name is Phaelus, that he's talked with Red Sisters before. I would have official reason to visit him in his quarters then."

D'Shea's expression didn't tell me whether or not that information was trustworthy, but given Callitro's behavior and obvious lust, I was willing to bet on it.

My Elder was quiet for long moments and finally said, "Good work. That may prove useful to me." One corner of her mouth rose a little. "Now comes the question of why you talked with him at all?"

I smiled straight-up, though my teeth were a little tight as I imagined she may try to block me. But I still couldn't lie here, either. "I wanted to smell him, to see if he or either of his companions was the invisible wizard from my second trial."

D'Shea let me read her expression clearly. It said, *I thought so.*

"Has it occurred to you that we know who he is, Sirana?" D'Shea asked me now.

"Yes, Elder," I replied. Of course it had.

"Why haven't you asked for his identity?"

"The same reason I gave you in the candle chamber after he'd finished raping me, Elder," I crossed my arms as I spoke. Of course, at the time I'd been bent over naked and gripping my ankles with Gaelan lapping at my sore backside. Hardly a position to make a memorable oath, so I reiterated. "It's on my time table now to find him and pay him back. And it will be my pleasure to do so."

Besides, just a few cycles ago when I'd asked Jaunda whether the soldier still lived or not. She'd only smiled back at me, silent as a wraith, and I didn't even care about finding the soldier as much as I did the wizard. Regardless of what D'Shea hinted now, I didn't believe she would just tell me.

My Elder peered at me for several moments, then shrugged and nodded. "As you wish. Consider it a standing directive to continue the search, secondary to any current assignment. Inform me when you find him."

She'd just approved the hunt. And she said, "when." I liked that vote of confidence.

I grinned. "Then what, Elder?"

She looked a bit surprised at the follow-up question. Normally that was her territory. I repeated it. "I'll inform you when I find him. Then what, my Elder?" 

I wanted to hear it from her lips.

She smirked slightly. "Pay him back as you said. You are only forbidden to kill him, Sirana."

"Thank you, Elder."

"And I want reports on anything of note within the Wizard's Tower."

"Of course, Elder."

Maybe it was turning out to be a pretty good evening after all.

******

After we were dismissed, Jaunda gave me a gesture that held no uncertainty. I would just go with her to her room and not even pass by Gaelan's to drop off anything. Wherever she'd just been on Rausery's orders, she was looking for work off some stress. I had stared for a moment at my Lead's intense, naked lust and most signals indicated she was in a mood to be rough.

"Come on, Thall." She walked away without even looking behind to see if I followed.

I hesitated.

Two months ago this might have been Gaelan. The two of us shared a brief look and she seemed to plead with me not to start fighting Jaunda now, and she gestured, *Remember.*

Remember our deal. Yes, of course, I was still trying to think of a favor in exchange that might equal it...

Although truthfully I hadn't given Jaunda a lot of thought between the beginning of the cycle when I'd dominated Gaelan and now; there had been so much to watch and wonder. So what would I do now? Just submit and go along as I had before, try again when I had a plan? Try to change something small now? I had to wait for an opportunity for that and wouldn't know it until it happened.

I had to catch up, first; Lolth help me if Jaunda had to turn back to get me.

We moved through the curved hallways of the cloister. Jaunda wasn't too far from Gaelan, as most Sisters shared two or three to a room, and we as a unit bedded down closer to D'Shea than to Rausery. As Lead, Jaunda had a room to herself and she practically hauled me inside it, murmuring the command to slide the magical stone door closed with a rather final sounding thump.

I wouldn't be leaving until the waking time, and Jaunda never bothered with healing draughts after sex. She did sometimes do a hot soak in a bath, though. I could hope for that, especially considering she was still stained with dried blood and smelled to have been on a long trek in the Underdark.

My Lead clasped me to her before I'd gotten far into her quarters and slammed me up against the outside wall by the door. She pressed her body to me and stared at my face a second before she closed her mouth on mine, forcing my mouth open as she had her eager fill of my lips and tongue.

It occurred to me that I knew just what to do to get her to stop right then; a pressure point Rausery had shown me was vulnerable...

But I couldn't. Not without purpose or plan.

I yielded my mouth to her forceful exploration.

When finally she stopped, we were breathing hard for air and she said, "You look great, by the way. I heard Rausery loaned that to you after two days of training. Have to tell me how that went later."

I smiled ironically. "Sure."

She took hold of my hair at the nape and pulled to the side, leaning to bite my neck and nibble on my jaw and earlobe before biting my neck again. Her appetite was powerful as ever and I gasped at her attentions. I was becoming aroused in spite of myself.

"We'll get the reds made just for you before too long," she murmured, gently kissing the flesh that I was sure was bruised and teeth-marked by now. "We'll have to replace that black belt, too."

As she spoke, she undid it and let it drop gently. She began stripping me out of the red uniform with impressive efficiency; soon I would be naked. I could imagine what to do, then, too; again, there was the opening and the vulnerability Rausery had shown me, long before I was fully undressed. I could stop her, except...

Her heavy breathing and the occasional low growl from her throat was a hint that I'd be sorry if I genuinely tried to resist. And then she smiled, scenting me and humming in pleasure, purely focused on her desire for me. Her force of personality could be overwhelming.

If I knocked her out using Rausery's "soft touch," oh, she would be furious when she woke up...

Maybe this wasn't the right time.

After she'd stripped me to the waist and took her time biting my breasts and sucking on my nipples to make them hard, she actually swept my feel out from under me. I cried out, startled, but managed to break my fall and land without injury. I just lay there on my back as Jaunda peeled the pants up my legs and took off each boot before yanking off everything else.

As it had been several times before between us—and opposite of Gaelan and I earlier—she was fully dressed and I was fully nude.

She still had my left foot in her hands and she massaged it before bending down to nibble on my toes and bite the inner arch. I winced but managed not to jerk my foot out of her hands like I had the first time. She made an approving sound and went back to sucking on my smaller toes, her fingers digging harshly into my ankle as my own felt the grit of the bare stone floor. By now I knew not to deny her anything, even if I was just waiting for her to move on from my feet.

Except that at some point, I would have to deny her something in order to change it...or just wait for someone to take my place, as Gaelan had. Which I didn't really want to do; not if the "next one" had to be Rausery's, for some reason....

"Open wide for me," she growled, releasing my foot.

I stretched my legs up straight and together toward the ceiling, opening them slowly as she liked it, until my hands were bracing my thighs. I held the position with my toes pointed toward the opposite walls. She gazed hotly down at me, drew the obsidian dagger at her belt and kneeled between my legs.

Jaunda barely touched the tip of her blade between my netherlips, watching me with the intensity of the predator that she was. I focused on controlling my breathing, holding still and waiting. I felt the flat of the cool black glass press to one side of my entrance, and then the other. The very tip almost tickled as it was dragged so lightly over my naked netherlips to barely touch my clitoris before moving to ruffle and reverse the lay of my pure white mound hair. 

It had been a while since she'd done this, but I knew—prayed—that she was only testing me.

My Lead had been one of those holding me on the altar during my final trial. I hadn't known that until much later, until she'd told me, but she had been part of my ritual, part of Lolth's Threshold, which healed my womb and forced me to overcome my fear of my late blood sister. Jaunda had watched Lelinahdara push an enchanted dagger half-way up inside me, had watched me take all of it willingly. And she had seen how it did not cut me but channeled the magic up through my very core, completing the powerful divine spell.

She placed the tip of her own dagger there now as a reminder.

And to do just a little trimming. She liked it on the short side.

"We encountered some Surface-dwellers coming back from our mission," Jaunda murmured, her eyes gleaming still as she tugged my sex's fur up away from my skin and made small, sharp cuts, trimming away any part of it that curled. When she was finished, it would be short, lay flat, with every hair pointing toward my nub like an arrow saying, "fuck here." Meanwhile, I held my legs open, feeling the strain but able to last for another several minutes without wavering if necessary. I looked up at her with interest at her statement. Sometimes she had told me a side-story to a mission, though never about the mission itself. She had grown to enjoy my very attentive ears to what she said.

But that had always been after the sex...why was she starting at the beginning?

Since she obviously wanted me to, I asked, "Surface-dwellers? All the way down here?"

"More a like fifty kliks up and out," she said, and I felt the soft leather of her glove brushing some loose hair off my lips.

"How do they see in the dark?"

"Magic circlets around their heads," she grinned. "Although I'm sure the survivors regretted the gift long before we were done with them."

Jaunda had finished trimming me and sheathed her blade, still staring at my pussy like she hadn't drunk water in whole cycles and I was the river. She removed her gloves and set them aside, started touching me more slowly than I would have guessed she would.

"There was a Surface Elf among them. Female."

Her intensity and the way she slowly fed hints definitely held my interest, and stronger tingles bloomed between my legs as she touched me. A Surface counterpart...?

"What did she look like?"

"Compared to us? Taller but somehow still... small. Thin. In torchlight, her skin was like a pale mushroom, her hair gold like the earth metal and her eyes this bizarre pale green."

"Gold hair? Not blond? How old was she?"

"I estimate about two hundred, not a day older. The gold was not due to age."

Jaunda leaned down then to suckle at my sex and I gasped, my legs trembling from both fatigue and the sensation. She moaned in pleasure and greedily drew in the scent of my sex, though far too soon she lifted her mouth off and tapped one leg, indicating that I close them and come to attention. I went to my knees first, and when she gestured that I stand, I did so. She clasped me again and felt all over my naked flesh, my nipples scraping against the seams in the red leather.

I could still smell the blood and dirt on her, and while that did smell worse than her unwashed body, the two together were primal and exciting to me somehow. Perhaps I'd smelled similar when I'd arrived on the Consort's farm...

"The Elf was so frail," Jaunda whispered now, her eyes sparkling with laughter and her teeth bared. "And her strength of will...well. Do you want to hear what we did to discourage them from coming farther down into the Underdark?"

I nodded. I was intrigued, and Jaunda actually wanted to talk as she fucked me. That was different.

"They were mostly males. Human Men, with a few half-breeds of some mix. Also a dwarf far fuzzier and uglier than the Duergar. The males were dominant, no doubt about it. The few females there were only support, or to serve. They spoke a Surface language I didn't understand, but when a strong male cuffs a small female on the back of the head and she only cowers, then...well, you don't need to know the language."

I stared at her; I already knew the gnomes and the dwarves down here in the Underdark were more often than not led by the males, but strong female leaders also existed. On a scale, the genders were probably more balanced when compared to the Drow, but thus far I had only heard about the Surface and how opposite it could be. Now Jaunda had actually seen some of it first-hand, down in our own territory.

Jaunda's naked fingers sank into my pussy and I gasped again just before she kissed me. Then she turned me around and held me by the throat with her wet right hand, her left arm around my torso and gripping my right breast.

"The Men varied in size much more than our males do. One in particular was so big he might have been able to get into a fist match with Kerse. Their mages tend to be smaller, which makes sense for scholars. I believe the Elf was also a mage of some kind, a healer but with strange growing things woven into her hair and cloak."

Growing things? I hadn't heard of many from the Surface except...

"Trees?" I guessed.

"No," she chuckled, and kissed the back of my neck as she pushed me closer to her bed. I could feel the familiar motions behind me as she still held my throat but released my breast to tug at something near her waist. She would be donning her Feldeu soon.

"How many total?" I asked.

"Fifteen."

"And you...?"

"Five, as always. It was more than enough. We took out the largest ones on first strike, before they knew we were there. Quick poison on crossbow pistols." Her breath was shaking with excitement. "We took those making gestures next. The female Elf was the only one smart enough to gain distance and tried to blind us with light, but we didn't need our eyes to smell and hear them. They smelled so rank, and so clumsy down here, they telegraphed everything far in advance of their actions. Ten of the fifteen killed in under six seconds."

"Rausery would be proud," I snickered and yelped when Jaunda slapped my bottom hard with a chuckle.

Her arm returned around my waist to clasp my breast again and I felt her erection line up in the cleft between my buttocks. She slowly ground against me as she kept talking.

"The five remaining? The weakest of the Men fighters who had dropped his sword, three Human females who were cowering...and the Elf who'd run but we caught up with her. We tied them all up, but had particular fun with the Elf."

"Should I guess?" I teased as she pushed me forward onto the bed.

Jaunda chuckled, turning me onto my back and grasping both my wrists, settling her hips between my legs. She braced herself and nudged around, refining her aim, then finally wedged the head of her cock at my cunt. I'd become slick during the talk and physical foreplay, and knew it would be a comfortable penetration.

"You know how most Nobles have trouble accepting when they're the ones getting fucked?"

She thrust inside me on the last word and I gasped as she moaned, then moaned myself as she took a couple slow strokes. Her eyes had been closed but slowly opened to meet mine and pick up the story again.

"One would think we were cutting off her ears the way she was screaming and crying at first, before we'd done more than strip her naked. The others started yelling, too. We had to gag all of them with the noise they were making, as if to call every hunter in the area to our location."

Jaunda was speeding up her power and pace between my legs; I could see the memory in her eyes as she relived it.

"You f-fucked her...this way?" I asked.

"Yeah....yeah," she answered, grunting. "Beautiful but so pale and so weak... couldn't fight. Only cried. Don't know...why she came down here. Would never survive..."

I had to concur. Competition was fierce down in the Underdark; hesitation meant you lost the fight and the food and if really unlucky, one's life. And more, crying meant only that one would submit to anything the stronger wanted and leave it to them whether one lived or not. It meant you deserved to be a slave.

Why would the females ever cower or cry down here? Didn't they know what would happen?

"Understand...anything she said?" I coaxed. "There are...mirrors in our Languages, I read."

Jaunda grinned, huffed, and pulled out entirely before slamming into me again. "'Defiler'," she cooed. "I understood that."

I laughed, felt a hot pulse in my sex in response. I understood the irony. That was one of our creeds; if the Red Sisters were sent to punish, then one could bet that their body and whatever they held sacred would be defiled.




Sufferance Ch. 04



I was also beginning to understand that it didn't work in reverse against us, though it might with other Drow. Our close group and the intensity of the training more and more suggested to me that we could be attacked in the same manner and it wouldn't stop us if we were left alive.

Which offered a notable advantage against big Human males who slapped their females around. Used to being on top? Meet the Red Sister and her Feldeu. 

If she doesn't poison you first.

"Have you...been on the Surface, Lead?" I asked, and Jaunda slowed her pace, sweat beading on her forehead and her plaited hair frayed worse than before. She stopped.

"Yes. And so will you...sooner or later." She pulled out. "Turn over."

She released my wrists and allowed me to roll over onto my belly. I knew what she wanted and almost moved to my knees when she spanked a cheek, making me freeze.

"The Surface Elf was...inexperienced with this part." I could hear the smile in Jaunda's voice. "Want to know how long it took?"

"Mm," I hesitated at the question. "Depends. Did you make her bleed?"

"I decided, as proud defiler, to take my time. So, no."

I was relieved but didn't make a show of it, only nodded. "Then yes, I'd love to know how long it took."

I felt Jaunda's weight on my back, her armor and clothing and belt and pouches and all her tools that she still had on being pressed to me. There was some pain but it enhanced the story, truthfully. I could imagine all this happening to trespassers, and as she did it to me, I was incredibly aroused by it.

My Lead gripped my wrists again and held them close to my face on one side while holding a forearm across my throat; all it took was a flex to suppress both the blood and air to my brain. Even a trained Sister would have a hard time getting out of this one, and by the sound of it, that Surface Elf had been completely helpless.

I felt Jaunda change the angle of her Feldeu to where the head was wedged into my crack, but aimed too high.

"Wriggle," she commanded.

I did, seeing quickly that with Jaunda not using her hands, only her hips, and with me able to move even a little bit, her jabs at my netherhole were either misaimed to hurt, or it slipped into my cunt before she pulled out again. Over and over she worked at my sweating crack, making things uncomfortable for me—especially as it became harder to breathe with her on top—but she seemed to be taking her time, enjoying the tease.

After what had to be a quarter a mark on a candle, I gasped, "How long did she hold out?"

"Less than you just did." She almost sounded proud. "Guess what happened next."

I said the first thing that occurred to me. "She tried to bargain?"

"Nope."

"She asked you to finish it, so the struggle would end?"

"Alas, no."

"Then what?"

"She went unconscious."

I paused. "You're playing."

"Nope." 

Jaunda got off me suddenly and hauled my hips up into the air and I quickly balanced on my knees, taking a deep breath. I actually felt my nether-region quiver in anticipation, presenting to her.

"She woke up again though, very soon. She may have been faking."

I felt her grip one hip, knowing she was aiming with her other hand, and I relaxed, loving the feeling as she opened me up, pressing in to fill my backside with her Feldeu. I moaned and rose up on my hands, arching my back and squeezing at the girth timed with her first two strokes. It enhanced the pleasure for both of us.

"Oh, she was a little louder than that, Thall," Jaunda sighed, pausing to enjoy the sensation. "And not nearly so talented as you."

"So fuck me properly, already. I'm no frail twig."

"Twigs...that's what was in her hair." Jaunda pumped me harder, leaned down to cover my back and reach around to grab my breasts.

We stopped talking long enough for my thighs eventually to be glistening from my own moisture and for Jaunda to wear herself out thoroughly before finally cumming inside me. Her hot breath washing over my back as she lay on me, and it took some time for her to pull out and I was definitely sore but...satisfied.

And I reflected that nothing had changed as it had with Gaelan. I was still her horny, spider-bitten slut.

"So what... happened to the Surface-dwellers?" I asked as Jaunda flopped onto her back, gasping.

"We fucked all of them," she answered.

"Even the Man?" I lay down on my side, careful of my tender backside.

"Yep. He broke first." She licked her lips to wet them, still catching her breath. "He also fought hardest at first but changed quickly when he was speared."

I pondered that. Odd. Usually the ones who fought hardest lasted longest.

"Did you kill all of them as well?"

She nodded. "All but the Elf. We dropped her in a less dangerous place, where she had a better chance to return. Assuming she tries."

"Really." I let my confusion show. "Don't we hate the Surface Elves most of all since the war?"

Jaunda turned her head and her smile was pure sadism. "Yes. If she lives, she'll always have our mark to tell the tale."

I understood then.

The quiet stretched for some time afterward as we relaxed. Something about the afterglow and the peace inspired me. I thought to simply ask her directly. 

"How long will we be fucking this way, Jaunda?"

Her breasts, slightly larger than mine, rose and fell regularly as she breathed. She turned her head to look at me with a single brow raised. "What?"

"How long did you plan to keep me as your personal fuck hole?"

She watched me for several seconds before getting on an elbow and leaning forward, asking, "Why? You can't wait to stop serving your ass to me?"

I didn't draw back, though she was trying to intimidate me. "I appreciated your help keeping those other Sisters away until I found my feet, Lead, and I was willing to pay you for it. But what about when I can defend myself without you? What will you do then?"

Jaunda had looked irritated and insulted before, but she calmed herself now and thought about the question. "When you can defend yourself?"

I nodded. "I know I can refuse now. Part of Rausery's training with me was just that, to back it up. Against you, if you want to know the truth. But while I find it useful against many, I'd rather just work out a different arrangement with you."

Jaunda grunted, thought some more, then smirked. "Well, damn her to the fucking Abyss for spoiling a good time." Then she sighed and flopped down onto her back again.

I said, "So you were taking advantage."

"Of course. I knew what you wanted, Sirana, though you never asked outright like this. And I could provide the protection." She shrugged. "So why not enjoy it? You offered it on a platter."

I tilted my head. "You like it any better with my asking outright?"

She shrugged again. "I think it moves things along faster sometimes."

"But also shows one's hand."

"True. But that doesn't mean it doesn't work better sometimes. It shows less malice and can catch some off guard."

"Like I just did?"

She smirked. "I'm not that easy to surprise. But yeah, I guess I do like it better from you. It tells me you aren't planning to stab me in the back any time soon."

I didn't have a response as I stared at her, and she looked over at me and chuckled, seeming more pleased.

"Good. We can test out those defense tricks Rausery taught you, if you like, Sirana."

"Mmm, I don't think I can best you quite yet," I answered.

"And you'll never be able to if you don't practice. How about that for an arrangement? Every time I bale your ass out of trouble, I get to fuck it. And every time you lose a spar with me, you have to spread for me."

"Up until the first time I beat you," I added. "Then we fuck only if it's mutual."

"Really?" She got up on an elbow again but kept her personal space, peering at me. "So you like how I do you enough that you just might seduce me sometime on your own, huh?" She winked.

I found myself smiling back. "Possibly."

She kept staring at me before glancing down at her cock still attached and I followed her gaze.

"Okay, probably."

"It's a deal, Sirana."

****

To be continued with Chapter 5.

The more characters, the more development needed for a story of intrigue...but never worry, there will be some action coming soon, or Sirana will go nuts.

Thanks for reading. :)



Sufferance Ch. 05



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 2012

This story is continued. 

*******

If I wanted to simply walk in and order them to take me to any one of their mistress's rooms, they would do it. I could stroll in and take their measure as I saw fit.

"It's overbearing and destroys any mystery, but it would work," D'Shea had commented once, her tone bland and unimpressed.

I agreed with her, and knew in the longer term that it wasn't as effective as letting myself in unseen and waking one from her reverie with a blade point pressed to her throat.

That was why the Red Sisters dedicated a lot of energy to gathering intelligence, finding weak points in every House and workarounds to various wards. The continual practice over the last few months, which had finally turned to the physical and practical, meant I knew a lot of ways to disable traps and magical alarms which were not shared outside the Sisterhood—not even the Priestesses. The Nobles had to feel reasonably secure in their methods defending against most adversaries, but they also had to accept that we could get in if we wanted to.

Then if we arrived, they would believe that they'd asked for it somehow.

This eve was my first time practicing my trade alone and outside the cloister, outside of Court; I felt ready, and I had been asked to prove it with a specific purpose. 

I had recently exchanged my borrowed reds for a set of my own; my belt now matched as well, though on this mission, as with most, I went with the black cloak. The hood was pinned to my tightly braided hair, until such as time as I desired to reveal my face or my uniform. It affected my peripheral vision somewhat, but that was one reason why blind-fight training and situational awareness had been prioritized right up there with my House invasion skills.

A lizard mount carried me to the outskirts of the plantation in good time, though I left it behind with nothing more than a bridle to cross the land on foot. Stepping softly and evading detection behind cover was much easier that way. Nothing on the plantation was very tall, as nothing except Deep Dragons grew to enormous sizes in the Underdark, and even those apex creatures were smaller compared to their Surface cousins. But my cloak masked much of my life energy and from afar, a crouching Sister could blend in with simple boulder very easily.

I'd grown more sensitive to the presence of wards, runes, and circles from repeated exposure and the discomfort they often caused. If the Passing ring on my left hand beneath the glove didn't warm pleasantly, indicating it was protecting me from setting off the alarm, then I could break a pellet from my pouch that opened a small, brief portal for me through which I could step and not compromise the integrity of the magic.

Truth be told, I actually preferred the climbing and picking of more mundane locks to using too many magical tools, but I wasn't foolish, either. Magic was inherent in our bodies and our culture; our very society encouraged the development of new tricks, as well as the counter methods to overcome them.

It had been a long time since some attack had happened at this House, I could tell. The guards were bored, and loitered a bit while changing their watch. That was my opportunity to scale the three stories directly beneath the room I sought, according to the layout I'd studied prior to this mission. She could have changed rooms since the last time we'd made any notes, but that was okay. Part of this assignment was to bring back intelligence of known changes.

The decorative glass of the window was in a gold frame perfectly lubricated and silent. I loved it when the wealthy did the work for me. My ring warmed strongly beneath my glove as I paused a moment before opening the window and sliding into the deep shadows.

Like many of the Nobles, her room was dominated by a large, wide bed, spread with fine sheets and covered with a canopy. I recognized her form on the far side even from the window, lying next to a resting companion with whom she chose to share the night. A wine pitcher and two glasses—one empty and one still mostly full—had been placed at the bedside table, and my ears told me the companion was deeply asleep (I supposed more than a few paranoid Nobles sedated their mates if they reveried together).

But the one I sought was not. She was only in light reverie. At least she hadn't left her quarters to cause more trouble.

I drew a black obsidian blade and stepped silently toward her. Any of my Sisters would have been awake and aware by now but this one still had her eyes closed. It seemed too easy when I pressed the tip of the dagger into the hollow of her throat.

Coup counted.

At last her eyes snapped open and I looked straight at her; given a moment for her vision to adjust, she recognized me. Her eyes filled with hate. I didn't feel the same.

"Hello, Kaltra."

"W-what are you doing back?" she hissed, glancing down at the hilt of the blade that held her to the bed for the moment.

"It was time for a visit."

"You shouldn't be anywhere near Mother, especially now."

"Nor should you be. I hear she hasn't been well. But then, the alchemist I spoke with admitted that compulsion potion cost you a pretty coin."

Kaltra pursed her lips briefly. "I don't know what y—"

"The same one Juarinia used all that time ago, isn't it?" I asked. "We both know she does good work."

Her lower lip trembled a little, but not in fear. "You killed our sister, you cunt. She would have made our House powerful again!"

I smiled slightly. "She died, but not by my blade, Second. We won't say the same for you."

My former relative's eyes widened and she slapped clumsily at my wrist as she made the motion to sit up. I accepted my aim to be knocked to the side and stepped back, allowing her to get to her feet. Her fists clenched and her face contorted and she drew breath to speak when I whispered the word to call a gently glowing sphere above us.

She cursed again, covering her eyes, but it didn't take long for her eyes to switch their sight. She froze when red leather was the first thing she saw beneath the light, and her expression changed from rage to confusion to horrified disbelief.

This would always be one of the best parts in these assignments, I could tell.

"Impossible," she said. "No..."

D'Shea had been right; my former Matron hadn't told Kaltra of my fate. It was a good call.

"I have other things to do so I'll spare you the more creative measures of extraction, Kaltra." I pulled out a blunt, disposable rod to hold in my other hand along with my dagger. "Just nod when I declare you've been slowly poisoning your Matron and her unborn child."

Her bottom lip started to tremble again. This time it was pure fear.

"It's not fair," she whispered.

"I'll take that as a yes."

*****

Matron Thalluen was resting uncomfortably when I entered; I could see sweat at her temples and smell the sour undertone of illness in the room, but she still detected me much sooner than Kaltra had.

"Do they want me dead at last, then?" she asked quietly in the dark.

I draped Kaltra's bloody sleep gown across her barely-touched platter of food that should have been her dinner. Her loss of appetite had spared her a fresh dose of the toxin. The Matron blinked at the gown, recognizing the material.

"Not you." I withdrew a bottle that I'd been given by the alchemist on demand, and handed it out to her. "This should neutralize the poison over the next few cycles. Remember to eat. You can't die until you have birthed an Heir, Matron. Unless you want them to leap on your holdings after your passing and carve it up. There's no one left to defend it but you."

At that, there was a spark of fight left in her eyes, but the Matron still looked tired and confused as well. I knew the poison was causing most of it. At last she took the bottle gingerly from my stained hand, wiping of the dark fluid smeared on the outside with a clean edge of the torn sleep gown. "All at once?"

I nodded.

She drank it as I watched, gagged once and only kept it down with effort. I retrieved the bottle and replaced it in a pouch.

"How?"

"Your food."

"But...my cook is loyal."

"He had no choice. He's also dead. Take on Raomino, he knows, and he's ready and willing."

She nodded, licking her lips and searching for something to drink. When she thought twice about the pitcher at her bedside, she used the message ball to summon Raomino to her.

By then, I had left again. I probably wouldn't be directed return again unless it was to kill my mother or whoever the baby grew up to be.

It might send the wrong message.

*********

Despite the calm, focused image I had presented to those inside House Thalluen, I was keyed up and flush with success on my travel back to the center of the City through the alternate passageways with ubiquitous spy slits. Many of my efforts against other Red Sisters had ended in failure—as they had to until I mastered the technique they needed me to learn. It made many things against the more mundane inhabitants of the City almost ridiculously easy.

Had I really flinched at Kaltra's raised hand before? She'd seemed to move incredibly slow when she tried to fight back.

It had been a pleasure—and a gift—to be the one to take her life. Not because I'd asked for it but because the Red Sister Prime had decided both that Kaltra's uncovered plot against a Matron so heavy with child was a sin, and that the short-sighted one was not worth the air she breathed in any case.

One's target did not have to be Nobility to draw the wrath of Lolth's Red Hand however. I'd heard, before and after joining, that the Sisters had avenged the unborn and those who bore them from even the common and mercantile classes. It only required a few reminders every century or so to keep that particular choice of assassination to a minimum.

Kaltra's death would be a more memorable one once the details got out, and it would be known that it was now the Valsharess's own interest for Matron Thalluen to bear a healthy girl-child in a few months. No one would dare touch her now; she may be alone except for her servants, but would have some time to raise her daughter in peace.

And yes, a simple divination spell had confirmed the sex. Another reason they'd acted quickly once they found out. I'd come in only on the end of the investigation, and D'Shea had given me the mission of execution.

"You know the land well, and you're ready for just such a test," she'd smiled.

"Thank you, Elder."

I was looking forward to giving my report in all its glorious detail, but when I passed a rune-marked checkpoint which sent an update of my approach to the cloister, I heard a return message sent by magic in my ear.

*Every available Sister collect in the Prime Altar Room immediately.*

That particular altar room was where I'd gone through the ritual of Lolth's Threshold and been accepted for further training. It more or less belonged to the Red Sister Prime. She actually had many uses for a Lolth-blessed room, not the least of which was as a secure and secret gathering point when the Sisters' attention was needed in a grander scope.

I began a smooth run through the halls toward the altar room, focusing on my destination when I passed the next rune mark. I would make it in only a few hundred heartbeats as the pocket folded space for me.

I entered to the altar room, my uniform and cloak still marked with blood, to see the Red Sister Prime, Elders D'Shea and Rausery, and the Priestess Lelinahdara surrounding the altar itself. A map and an odd collection of materials objects, half of which looked like they'd be used in ritual, lay over the surface of the altar itself, and I counted twenty-five other Red Sisters present, including Jaunda and her five. They looked ready to tear down half of the Underdark.

Rausery glanced up at me approaching to join the group.

"Twenty-seven, more than half," I heard Rausery tell Prime, but she stared at D'Shea next.

My Elder only nodded once and their contact eye broke. My guess was that I'd be following Rausery's orders for the time being.

"I will need a conduit with experience," Lelinahdara said.

"Gaelan," D'Shea answered, and it seemed that was decided as well as the Priestess gestured my roommate forward to her.

The Red Sister Prime turned toward the rest of us, her hair streaked with blonde, her eyes and face hard, the lines at the corners of her mouth that bit deeper. "Three enterprising Ilithids have entered our domain. They brought with them a broad collection of their more powerful mind-slaves numbering over three hundred. The company dispatched a mark ago engaged in the last quarter mark but is struggling to push them back and starting to dwindle. We believe the Ilithids are here to capture new bodies, whomever they find, they are not known to be picky. But most certainly they want Drow or they wouldn't have come this far."

I felt my brows rise higher in spite of my attempt at a focused, still expression like the other Sisters. This was going to be my first pitched battle, and against mindflayers of all things. The only other race in the Underdark of which the Drow were genuinely leery.

"Twenty-seven of you will tip the balance in our favor. Elder Rausery will be leading in the field and Elder D'Shea will be our magical support passing the intelligence between you; you will hear her voice in your head. Act on any orders as if they came from me; share as much real-time information as you can in return, we will need it. Lelinahdara will be shielding you from as many mental attacks as she can but remember your own training if you feel pressure like water filling inside your head."

Dealing with that particular feeling, though I'd felt it before, for the first time with the Duergar in the wilderness, was probably the area in which I had the least amount of experience. But D'Shea knew that; I had to trust she and the Priestess would manage shields where they were needed most. And if not, I just had to deal with it.

"First priority is to let our army see you destroy as many of the Ilithid thralls as possible to rebuild morale. When the power shifts you'll know it, and then I want those tentacled psiomancers filled with poison from afar. Do not engage in melee or attempt a close kill under any circumstances. The last thing our Queen needs is for the Ilithids to gain the knowledge you all have. Not even one of you are to be captured alive."

We all knew what that meant already; we'd kill our Sister or poison ourselves before we would to let that happen. Suicide when defeated in battle was not a grandiose ideal of ours and we were rarely tested on it. Certainly even, it was not unknown for us to recover a captive Sister from the enemy rather than rely on death to solve the issue for us. There was a lot of investment in a single Red Sister that was not represented in a common fighter.

But in this case, it was purely practical and non-negotiable when mindflayers were involved. They were too powerful to take the risk, and few beings were ever known to withstand their psionics indefinitely. Drow were not one of them. Better simply not to get near them.

We mobilized quickly, restocking essential weapons and useful tools, ready in as much time as it took me to run here. I removed my cloak, rolled it up and set it in the supply room; no other Sisters were wearing one.

We were instructed each to quaff a painkilling potion with a slower, longer healing effect; we would not feel the pain of our first few injuries, and in most of those, we would not bleed out. At times we'd seemed unable to be killed; we encouraged the myth among Drow and enemy alike.

The Priestess and D'Shea prepared to open the portal that would fold space and drop us where we needed to be instantaneously. Like moving into the spy tunnels, it would cause my stomach to rise and lurch, and the greater the distance, the more the effect. But I was as prepared as I could be, and fortunately no one vomited when we were suddenly standing on a ledge above a large cavern outside the City.

The noise of battle was immediately present below us and both torches and flares of light abounded on the broad, uneven floor, even if sporadic in places.

*Fan out. Engage. Quick kills, we want quantity.*

The words in our heads repeated Rausery's sign language. The tightly-bound energy of every Red Sister unraveled and flooded us almost as one. We drew swords and daggers, crossbow pistols and barbed flogs. Our speed had to be our shields, for every Sister fought with two weapons and could change them quickly and frequently to whatever was needed.

We moved.

The thralls of the Illithids were larger than us, well-muscled, and capable of both tearing through or seizing a body to hold it tight. I didn't recognize the race; I thought it might have been a warped version of existing ones; perhaps if a Hook Horror had been crossbred with a Grimlock.

It possessed the eyes and the beak, but possessed multiple talons instead of a single large hook and its body was grey-skinned and stream-lined for swimming. Natural armor and a tough hide made quick kills more difficult unless one aimed her thin blade just right, either in a sunken yellowed eye or in a soft spot beneath the jaw. Either way, we had to stab the brains or the thralls kept moving, unable to feel pain and controlled by their Masters.

Once one Red Sister figured that out, then we quickly all knew it as D'Shea passed on the intelligence. I knew it wasn't me that discovered it first, but I took full advantage of anything that worked.

I killed every one that I engaged who was not Drow. My energy seemed limitless, my skills unleashed without restraint or boundaries on the targets. It was the first time since I'd joined the Sisterhood. Something inside me sang with joy, and over the bond connecting us on the battlefield, it was answered many times over.

We'd come down from a higher vantage point and enough of our army saw us, and saw the enemy bodies finally begin to fall faster than the Drow around them, that I heard a roar of bloodlust rise as they redoubled their efforts to fight off the invaders.

The Sisters did not cluster together, but we never got completely out of sight of one another; I could always see at least one of my Sisters, blurred, spinning, even shrieking. We could sense the presence of one another; as long as the mind did not become a void, we knew all were still standing. 

I absorbed the information of dozens at once, knew things that were happening in the chaos even if I did not witness them. We were doing well. Jaunda and her team literally cut a swath in the middle of the thickest pack of thralls, breaking it up and allowing parts of our army to flank them and finish them off.

The regular units who'd begun fighting again were of both sexes, a mass of defiant roars blending in a pleasing pitch with heat and rage. 

One fighter in particular drew my eye for a few seconds in the mass of bodies. She was young but radiated pure will and fearlessness; she was quick and vicious, not only using precision to her advantage but making sure she tore as much flesh as she could in each withdrawal. From the looks of it, she hadn't stopped fighting for a long time, even when others were falling back.

She saw me as I got close, and smiled, spoke when we selected the same a pair of thralls. "Ten wisely led... versus a hundred... without a head.

"They're... so.... Fucked!"

No time to laugh, but my teeth definitely gleamed in the darkness.




Sufferance Ch. 05



When the power had definitely shifted was when the ranged attacks began. Streaks and rays of red light and fire struck Drow and mind-slave alike.

*They know they're losing. Those are the reserves.*

One Sister spotted the Illithids at last; they were on the far side of the cavern, opposite of where we'd appeared. In front of them was a line of gaunt, spindly thralls capable of releasing heat and fire from their fingertips. Behind the mindflayers were not only a few smaller tunnels, but the closest Sister could sense a ward of some kind protecting them. They had an easy exit strategy if their forces failed.

We had to cut off those routes and deal with the psychic shields somehow from afar.

*Panagan, Agalia, Sirana, Cloya, defend the battle mages at your nine. They must block the tunnels and overwhelm the shields. Your Sisters are getting into position to take advantage of any opening you give them.*

At the same time, we knew that other Sisters had been dispatched to guide several officers and their units to deal with the ranged attacks.

I saw why we'd been directed toward the mages; the four of us had worked our way the farthest through our foes and were nearest to where the mages held their line in the back. They were being threatened, distracted by incoming fire and rays as the melee force in front of them pressed closer with urgent tenacity. The Illithids standing a quarter-circle around the cavern from them had definitely noticed them and the soldiers defending them.

I glimpsed a familiar wizard among three others; they were starting to spook as less of the army was near to them to help with both angles of attack. That was why we were here.

"Focus on ranged defense, Callitro," I said forcefully over the din. "I've got the fools in front of you."

He already knew Red Sisters were present in the battle, but when he recognized me in particular, indeed, realized I'd be guarding him personally, he grinned widely and nodded, his concentration during his next spell visibly reinforced. His first concussive blast was centered right in the middle of those shooting fire, and it echoed in the cavern, sending more than a handful to their misshapen knees, clutching their ears. He'd likely broken their eardrums.

Bravo.

I had only been able to make time to visit Callitro in the Tower once; it had taken enough time that I could requisition my particular magical item, flirt and question him a little, then leave with both our hungers unsatisfied. I guessed perhaps that D'Shea didn't want me to have the finished product, or the reward of the hunt up my twat, too soon; I'd been kept very busy since then. It had also been a waste of a pregnancy-prevention draught.

I barely thought about it now as a red line of magic missed me by two finger's breadth and I withdrew my stiletto from an abomination's eye. My head started to get that pressure inside once or twice but it didn't last long before I got the mental image of Lelinahdara placing her healing hand on my abdomen again; then it was like cool water over a wound and I was fine.

"Mages prepare sound blasts!" Agalia ordered, pointing at each wizard in turn. "One, two, three, four...two seconds apart and above the Illithids's heads!"

I knew for sure that those were the exact instructions we'd been given.

Four Sisters defended the four wizards with all our infamous killing lust. It would have been easier if the mages could have gotten on higher ground, but that only made them a better target for the rays. 

It was not long, however, before there was finally time and space for the magic users to focus on attacking the stone right above the Illithids. If we had had even one less blast or if it hadn't been timed right, it wouldn't have worked as well as it did. Callitro and his brothers in magic all used the same spell, centered side-by-side on the far wall, and each delayed those successive two seconds.

The noise and vibrations caused general confusion on the floor but more importantly, stones began to fall, striking the shields around and above the mindflayers, and creating an obstruction behind them they'd have to climb over and hope to squeeze through to escape. I saw in my mind what I could only describe as "mental sparks" that arched around an almost invisible dome every time rock struck the surface. 

As that was happening, Rausery directed our standard archers to send arrow after arrow to the dome, the intent not to penetrate but just to add to every pebble and boulder wearing down the Illithid defense.

There seemed a rise in anticipation, as if a dam were about to break. Over and over it happened and I heard D'Shea's voice, *Prepare...*

*NOW!*

Fifteen Sisters had gotten in range to shoot poisoned arrows and darts. Two seemed overwhelmed, their minds blinking out for a moment and were not able to shoot another, but the other thirteen shot again, and one more time for good measure.

Each mindflayer received more than ten doses of our most potent poison.

The nearest foe on whom I'd turned with my thinnest blades, now getting so slick with their life fluids it was harder to hold them, slowed then stopped moving, standing and blinking confusedly.

The creature was without command or guidance. Next it was without breath or heartbeat as well.

*Do not get near the mindflayer bodies. Physical contact soon after death can have psychic effects.*

I realized the words for those closest to the mindflayers, not necessarily myself, but good to know all the same.

The cavern slowly became quieter as each engagement realized their enemy was not fighting back anymore. About half of them finished off the Horror or fire-flinger in front of them while the rest stepped back and regrouped, looking for their officer to instruct them.

This happened over a few seconds as Rausery, backed by Jaunda and Kiren, finished the Illithids by setting them flame with an incendiary dart each. As the bodies began to burn, a cheer began to swell; I couldn't help but join in.

"We won!!"

Rarely were there moments of unity like this where Drow all stood on the same side.

I laughed loudly; my own affirmative cry was half-shout/half-growl as I turned to see Callitro's handsome face and bright eyes watching me. He was breathing hard from effort and what the offensive magic had taken out of him, was sweating and disheveled as I was, and he was the nearest delight to snap into my arms. 

I claimed his mouth, thrusting my tongue into him and grabbing his buttocks through the robes. I pressed our groins together and felt him respond instantaneously, growing longer and very firm between our bellies as I kissed him. My hand slide toward the front, my intension next being to stroke that beautiful erection for a while; I didn't exactly know what I expected would happen next.

Pangan hissed at me, "Let him go, Sister."

I soon felt a reaffirming command from D'Shea. *No. Not here where commoners can watch you.*

I released Callitro with an internal grumble and stepped back. He looked slightly dizzy, was catching his breath and confused for a moment but glad to take the special attention when he glanced over at his mage companions. His smile was definitely filled with bragging rights. Then I head D'Shea's voice again.

*Kill every thrall. Leave none breathing. Set any who can heal to the wounded.*

Ah yes, the clean-up.

The order was passed through the Sisters to each officer. I was surprised to hear one dissenter; she was gesturing to a cluster of the thin, lanky creatures who had been throwing the ranged attacks and addressing Rausery, who had given the order and was making her way back to the center.

"We shouldn't destroy them, Red Sister, please think of their use against our enemies! Surely the Priestesses or magicians can find a way to control them—"

Her eyes went wide as we all only just realized that Rausery had moved. Our Elder scowled into the eyes of the dying officer as she slowly sank down to the ground. Rausery held a glistening blade in her right hand. She looked around at those watching, and her voice projected without having to shout.

"Kill. Every. Thrall. No exceptions."

There were no more dissenters.

Rausery called us closer to her and selected us in twos and threes to oversee various tasks. I'd been instructed to oversee the healing so those who might march back to the City could.

"Make sure they're actually healing and not selectively bumping off their wounded rivals," she grumbled before moving on to her next task. "Watch the faces of the wounded. You'll know."

I had to admit, it was a good opportunity that I'd bet many took advantage. The healers were not all together at first, but I scanned the field with the two other Sisters and we could get within shouting distance of them and call them to our side. 

We acted as their escorts, but I started mixing up the healers; they were not allowed to choose their own patients, though they tried. Rausery was right; a quick glance at the conscious wounded as they looked at the healer told me whether it was a neutral pairing or a deadly one.

A quick glance at my own armor also indicated that I had received a few injuries, but they were mostly shallow and already healed up from the potion still in my system.

The feisty fighter whom I'd seen early in the battle, who had made that quip to me, was also among the wounded. She didn't like the first choice of healer, but instead of a briefly frightened look of vulnerability like some others, she scowled defiantly. 

"Fuck off."

I couldn't help grinning and shrugged at the healer. "You heard her. Fuck off. Send me another."

Having been turned away from two others who hadn't wanted her touching them, the healer nodded without comment and went to exchange herself. I looked down at the warrior; she was only injured in the leg, not too bad, but she wouldn't be able to walk back to the City with her unit. 

Her armor was normally brown when not stained with blood and black goo, and the design more common but competently made. Strands of white hair stuck to her forehead and temples and her hair had been tied in a tight bun before but was partly undone now. She had fierce red eyes shaped somewhat like D'Shea's, but where in my Elder there was only calm and grace, in this one there was aggressive challenge and pure, willful stubbornness. She seemed more peaceful having me, a Red Sister, stand next to her than that healer, however. At least she wasn't bristling like a cave boar anymore.

"What's your name?"

She blinked, then cleared her throat. "Jael Aurenthietti, Red Sister."

She was a Noble, but a Fourth Daughter, and House Aurenthin was near the bottom the last I looked. The Twenty-first or Twenty-second. It was not a large House anymore and would probably be gone in another few generations.

"Jael." It felt nice on my tongue somehow. "Not one to give up, are you?"

Even though I could see it in her expression, she withheld whatever her opinion was that I was making small talk with her and answered. "No, Red Sister. Only the dead ever see the end of the war and I'm not ready to retire."

It was an odd twist on a common saying, but I liked it.

A different healer showed up and I nodded after seeing Jael's placid expression, walking away to see to the next. Before too long we'd be pulling out.

This cavern and its surrounding area would smell for weeks. We had burned the Illithids to be safe, but could not burn every dead body or we'd pollute and use up our air with possible results worse than the smell. In truth, we depended on the scavengers of the Underdark who cleaned up afterward, but it took time. 

We always gave a battlefield a good onceover for interesting objects or investigating the bodies and area around us for stragglers, but in the end we just left the enemy where they fell. We sometimes took our own dead back along with any slaves (in this case there were none), but it depended more if there was a Drow present who cared enough to do it; they were usually related to the dead but not always.

We would not, however, be walking back with them. Once the officers were in control of their respective units again, we would return the same way we came.

Rausery gathered us together with a gesture and we followed her back to the rendezvous point where Prime would open the portal again leading back to the altar room. We stayed in position and waited for some long moments, vigilant in case a body was hiding and waiting to follow us.

Eventually it became clear we were alone in the cavern and the door back was opened.

The Red Sister Prime looked very pleased and perhaps—if I were her—looking forward to giving the Valsharess some good news. D'Shea allowed herself to look proud of her best team, and Gaelan smiled a little seeing me. The Priestess was still touching Gaelan's shoulder; she was not smiling but looked only thoughtful as opposed to malicious.

"Congratulations, Red Sisters," Prime said. "Your trust in your skills and your Elders, your bonds and the supreme communication defeated this invasion. *This* is why you are the best there is at what we do. There are no demons but us among Sisters."

"No demons but us," murmured more than a few Sisters in reverent answer.

I wasn't among those who spoke but instead among those who nodded. Even I couldn't deny the powerful feeling of group pride and accomplishment, the satisfaction of victory coupled with the pleasure of our Elders.

"Restock your supplies and see to your equipment first. And then clean up and relax, however you see fit." 

Prime looked at Rausery and D'Shea and nodded, who each dismissed her own officially. I lingered just long enough to see Rausery leave with Prime and Lelinahdara, while D'Shea and Gaelan moved as if to disperse with the rest of us.

It seemed really odd that D'Shea wouldn't be going with the others...

"Hey, Thall," Jaunda said huskily at my ear and I jumped.

Shame on me that she could sneak up on me like that.

I turned and one look at her clearly told me how she wanted to "relax," given the choice. There had been several times since our frank talk where she'd either beaten me in a sparring match—and thus I had to yield to her—but only once where she actually interfered in a three-Sister pile-up in our mess hall. At least she had waited until later on to claim my naked ass in payment.

I hadn't considered how just straight-up, post-fighting lust fit into our arrangement. This had been my first of this nature. I could easily be lured into the mood, but—

"She still owes me a report, Jaunda," D'Shea glided up on my other side, her brow delicately raised. "And it won't wait any longer."

The Lead sighed with a bit of playful melodrama that D'Shea tolerated, taking the cuntblock in stride. She bowed with a wry smile. "Of course, Elder. I'll find another to quench my thirst."

D'Shea glanced meaningfully from her right hand to Gaelan, who I realized was standing quietly near us and breathing kind of deeply for someone who hadn't been in the thick of the fighting. My roommate was even glassy-eyed, staring into space.

"What's happened to her?" I asked.

D'Shea smiled slowly. "Lelinahdara was using her as a conduit, remember?"

Of course I did, but it still didn't answer my question.

Jaunda, on the other hand, looked extremely pleased, flashing her white, straight teeth in a delighted, hungry grin as she reached forward to take Gaelan by the arm. The second-to-youngest Sister went with her without hesitation.

D'Shea gestured for me to follow her and I did so without speaking more. For the moment, at least. Her gait was leisurely and swaying as if she were in her robes instead of her reds, and the clear example of this engagement finally solidified for me why there were two Elders, and the roles that each fulfilled.

D'Shea was a magic user, a sorceress much more than a warrior. Rausery acted the general, the tactician in the field and drew the loyalty of those addicted to action and physical endurance, like her. 

My Elder, on the other hand, acted the strategist and the link to knowledge and politics and long-term planning...and she could connect us all so we could act as one, so our communication was instant and unsurpassed in any single collections of Drow.

I remembered how she'd slapped me for questioning the magic of the spy tunnels, who had built them and whether there were weak spots. She'd slapped me for saying other similar things, but that time, she'd laughed first. As if in disbelief?

Perhaps...if that or at least part of it was her handiwork, perhaps I'd insulted her.

I'd never...sensed it about her. Not once. But she studied magic, was perhaps the most powerful mage within the Red Sisters, and those under her command seemed more...varied than those under Rausery's.

What did that say about me? I used magic as a tool but wasn't enamored of it, didn't really care to study it. Kind of ironic that Qivni had called me a "volatile potion waiting to explode."

D'Shea didn't speak at all until we reached her quarters; I followed her lead in that as well. The door soon slide shut, she called light to her candles, and I looked around the more spacious room with a new perspective; the bath, the bed, the desk, the bookshelf...

Rausery definitely hadn't had a bookshelf in her room, although she had a desk and a tall pile of pressed parchment that had looked like maps to me, plus a few way-finding tools. If D'Shea had a collection of vials and magical components and small burners at her disposal in her quarters, I wasn't seeing them.

"You will bathe before your report, Sirana," she said with a little wrinkle to her nose as she moved to begin the water flowing in her tub. "Undress and set all your belongings on my bench."

The clear bench set at waist-level could be used as a work space for a number of things, now that I thought about it...

"The Prime Sister instructed I must clean them first, Elder," I answered, not exactly refusing as I began to remove a bracer, but genuinely not wanting to leave my uniform and weapons in as poor shape as they were.

"Just this once, I'll do it." She winked. "Unclothe yourself completely."

I was baffled at first but did as she said. Meanwhile it occurred to me that she likely meant a simple cleaning spell. It would save a lot of time and work than doing it by hand, which both Rausery and Jaunda sometimes insisted on. Just so we didn't forget how.

My skin was cool and sticky in places where body fluids had soaked through, and some grit had even gotten into the few breaches in the armor. I had no scrapes, cuts, or bruises that I could find, however. I untied my braid, letting it fall, and began to comb it out with my fingers. D'Shea nodded in satisfaction and indicated that I should sit in the tub even while it was still filling.

As I cleaned myself using her soaps, enjoying the warm swirl around my legs and climbing up my torso, D'Shea indeed began a cleaning spell on my uniform, weapons, and other equipment. Then she undressed herself as well, trading out her battle-ready armor for a soft and comfortable-looking pale purple robe. 

It didn't resemble the wizards' robes in appearance, but it was still appropriate in that she seemed to prefer it.

By the time she'd sat with a glass of wine in her favorite chair, I'd finished scrubbing my skin and hair, had dunked myself to rinse and sat a moment longer before she said to empty the tub and dry off. Fortunately a towel was within my reach on a metal wire shelf.

I observed her as I ran the absorbent cloth over my dripping body; she seemed low on energy. It was sort of hard to explain the difference, as normally she was standing or sitting calmly and rarely paced, never fidgeted. She was like that now, and nor was she slumping, sagging, yawning, or doing anything else that made me think she was worn out.




Sufferance Ch. 05



Yet she still seemed that way. I didn't know exactly how much magical power and strength it took to open portals or to connect and speak to minds over greater distances, but it had to be a lot. At the same time, I didn't know how much of that strength might've also been coming from the Red Sister Prime, the Priestess Lelinahdara...perhaps even Gaelan. Maybe it had taken all of them.

She turned her head to look at me with that oh-so-Noble face and smiled. "Good. Come sit now. Have some wine."

I blinked as I realized there was actually another chair at a right angle from hers, with a small round stand between them and on that was the bottle of mushroom wine opened and an empty glass. The chair was simpler, without arms, but at least I wouldn't be sitting on the floor giving my report. I would, however, be naked; the spell was still working on my armor, she hadn't instructed me to dress, and I knew well enough by now that it wasn't an oversight.

A creeping feeling crawled up the back of my neck as I wondered if she intended to fuck me this eve, this many months after my initiation, after I had my own uniform and was fully of the Red Sisters. The set up suggested it, but her energy level didn't.

I accepted the chair but hesitated at pouring any wine. Yes, the bottle was open and roughly the correct amount missing from the bottle was in D'Shea's own glass, and she'd left my glass empty. But I still hadn't seen her open the bottle and pour the glass herself. First rule among Drow Nobles as guests is to never drink anything you either didn't prepare yourself or didn't watch your hostess drink first.

D'Shea watched me, glanced at my empty glass, and chuckled. "You don't trust me, Sirana?" She took another sip of her half-empty glass.

I smiled. "Well...no, Elder D'Shea. But it's nice to watch you."

She laughed a little louder before she finished her first glass quickly, up-ending it and letting the transparent, brown-tinged liquid slide down her throat, her throat flashing as she swallowed twice. Then she poured another half-glass from the same bottle and drank that as well.

Her smile was impish as she leaned back in her chair, one leg cross over another. "How long will you wait now?"

"Until my report is over, Elder."

"Good girl. Tell me about your trip to House Thalluen."

That was an easy report, as I told her everything that happened, and it had gone well. There were no unexpected interruptions, no surprises, nothing that hadn't gone according to plan as I understood it. D'Shea was pleased with me as I spoke of my relatives; nothing in my tone or choice of words hinted at a lingering loyalty or hesitation. It was just a successful mission, with a personal pleasure attached to it.

"Good. Well done. Now let's talk a little about the battle," she said. "I already know the guts of the fight itself, I was there even if my body was not. But I want to ask whether you remember the young fighter who spoke to you when you turned on the same enemy?"

I nodded. "Yes, I do. We spoke again briefly after the battle. I saw to her healing, among others."

"Interesting. Of what did you speak?"

"I asked her name. Made a comment about her stubbornness and she responded with another quip like during the fight. That was all."

D'Shea's eyes watched without blinking. "What is her name?"

"Jael Aurenthietti."

My Elder pondered that but I couldn't read her face. I could, however, make an intelligent guess. "Is that the first you've heard her name?"

D'Shea half-smiled. "No."

"She is someone of interest to us?"

"Perhaps. Several young females with potential are being watched at any given time. She's one. But you didn't know that, am I right?"

"You are, Elder."

"You just noticed her in a fight and decided to ask her name."

I shrugged slightly. "Are you displeased, Elder?"

"Yes, but not entirely. I consider it a genuine mark in her favor in this case. But like the battle mage you kissed in plain view, I can't have you interacting like that with outsiders as a habit, Sirana. The more individuals know of one of us, the less they will think of the Sisterhood how we wish them to. You haven't mastered the mystique of a Sister; you can still be far too easy to read when you desire something. You will have to get better at that, and sooner rather than later."

"Yes, Elder." I did feel warmth in my face, as what she said should have been blatantly obvious and yet I'd been relaxing my guard during and after that fight. Why?

It had been connected to that high feeling, that joy. That invulnerability, and knowing more than any of those others on the field. Knowing who backed me up.

Of course. Pride. Over-confidence. What else?

"I'll be more wary of those interactions, Elder. But what of Callitro in the Tower, then?" I asked.

"You and I both want interaction with him, just as I want interact with your Consort. That works best with males. But in the mage's own quarters. Alone. Not in front of half our army."

"Yes, Elder."

"Now drink of some of the wine I'm offering before I take true offense, Sirana," she stated, her voice calm as ever and even a little humorous, but still with that same subtle dagger-in-silk.

A Noble hostess would pour the glass for her guest; that I was pouring my own, just as I completed my own bath, plainly said that she was not my hostess. She was my superior.

I could smell nothing that unusual until I tasted it. The mushroom wine had a tart bite to it that I wondered how it had been done. Bitter was the most common undertone for this type of wine, and sweet was also a quality because of the need to add consumables other than fungus in order to maintain the fermentation process. It being sour enough to cause the inside of my mouth to pucker and salivate was quite an accomplishment.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"Different," I responded, smacking my mouth once, holding up the glass to note the coloration again. "Wow."

She laughed quietly and sipped again. She was on her third glass, the bottle being nearly empty after I'd served myself, and I could see the relaxation in her shoulders and her eyes. She was feeling the effects.

Not that this fact could make me believe it made her somehow more vulnerable because of it.

D'Shea kept watching me sip from the glass, silent for quite a while. Her copper eyes would drift over my breasts and belly, my legs and back up. I hadn't done more than finger-comb my damp hair from being in the tub and it was basically unkempt but not in total disarray, and she seemed to study that as well. Over that quiet time, I could feel the wine warm my insides.

"Do you still prefer males over females, Sirana, as you did when you still hated Juarinia?"

I swallowed the wine on my tongue and wondered whether there was a right answer to this one. She'd said my dead sister's name, probably the first time since the Lolth's Threshold ritual, and it didn't have any effect on me. She probably saw that, and I guessed that had been the right answer here.

On my preferences...?

"I still prefer living erections to numb appendages, Elder."

"So you don't care for the synthetic rods, but the gender doesn't matter?"

I nodded. "Yes, Elder. I'd be lying to you if I claimed Gaelan and Jaunda and several others did not arouse me. I've learned I can answer the desire in kind and...and I enjoy the attention."

"What about not being able to wear a Feldeu yourself?" she asked, her cheek resting on two elegant fingers. "Have you thought about it?"

I opened my mouth to answer.

"—especially when you make Gaelan take the one she should be using on you?"

I blinked, changing my answer slightly but not I was not flustered. I had expected that sooner or later. It had been later. "Of course I do. I see their faces every time they put it in my mouth or take me on my back. I hear the same sounds whether I'm pinned down or free to move. The pleasure must be...some of the most intense they can feel. I don't even remember any males with their true cocks in quite such rapture."

I waited a beat. "But I can wait."

D'Shea quirked an eyebrow, waited a beat herself. "You know, it was clever of you to make those spars with Jaunda something other Sisters could see. I hear you haven't won yet, but you're getting better. If you took a different opponent other than your Lead, you may win some matches."

I smiled. I knew that. There was a reason I hadn't.

"And yet imagine how that and others conflict with a report of you bent over a table of cards with your hands on your buttocks, letting Gaelan plow you where others could walk in."

"You already know the answer to that, Elder."

"Not all of it," she grumbled. "I know you're protecting Gaelan's status and waiting to choose your time. I am satisfied with that. But she couldn't tell me what you got for it."

"I haven't chosen it yet. I thought she would have told you that, Elder."

"She did. I didn't believe her at first."

"Well...then for now, she lets me use your Feldeu on her and work her to climax."

D'Shea smirked. "And doesn't that feel like you are serving her needs, just as you would be at Court, doing the same thing to another Noble?"

"No, Elder," I answered. "I mean...it did a little at first, but not anymore. She fights me, resists being penetrated, and I have to work for it. We like it that way. Maybe she's holding back and letting me take her, but lately with my sparring with Jaunda, I don't think so. I think she knows I'm catching up to her skill."

"How do you satisfy yourself, then?"

"She puts it on and I ride her. Roughly."

The smirk on D'Shea's face hadn't faded. "Touch yourself, Sirana. Tell me if our talking about this, picturing everything, has made you...receptive."

I already knew I was, it just wasn't to the stage of leaking yet. However, my heart started beating harder as I opened my legs a little and touched between them, my fingers slipping between my netherlips, indeed to find just enough moisture to receive.

"Yes?" she asked, and I nodded.

"Yes, Elder."

"Show me your fingers."

A very hot flush swept over me as I slowly withdrew and showed her the light coating of juices on my first two fingers. She straightened her back and leaned forward, her mouth capturing my fingers and I felt her tongue swirl and clean the fragrant fluid off my skin. Her robe was looser in the front and I could see the curves of her breasts, the nipples not quite in view.

There was no further doubt in my mind that D'Shea had finally decided it was her turn.

She gave a pleasant hum as she sucked my fingers, her inebriated eyes low-lidded and slightly glazed—but only for that moment. Her sharp focus came back promptly and she stood up, untying the sash at her waist as she stepped to the side.

"On my bed, Sirana. On your back with your legs parted."

There had been a little shake in her voice. Anticipation? My gut was tight, hot; partly in tension for not knowing what she planned, what she liked, how she intended to enjoy herself in me. The other part...was arousal. The last Red Sister directly involved in my training, the one who hadn't touched me yet, genuinely desired me now.

I knew I would submit to her and learn what I could of her preferences; what else could I do? Although still, the quality of the unknown—this unexplained delay and the fact that she was indeed a magic-user—kept part of me ready to resist...something.

She had blankets softer than others, and the mattress beneath gave suittably. I remembered lying here once before, my very first time inside the cloister; it hadn't felt different then—more what I was used to myself as a Noble. But now it did feel different, even though it was the same bed.

I got comfortable, watching as D'Shea opened her robe facing away from me, revealing her shoulders and back, the in-curve of her waist and the swell of her hips; long bare arms hung the robe back in its place on the wall by the tub. I glimpsed the scar again that crossed her spine higher on her back before she turned around, and then I quickly recalled the two on her front as well. One just beneath her left breast and the other over her ovary on the other side. 

I still didn't understand why she was scarred at all, never mind that any one of those cuts or stabs, if made with a blade and if deep enough, could have either paralyzed her or killed her.

D'Shea murmured something and opened a tiny cabinet set into the wall which seemed only barely large enough to contain the pouched Feldeu she pulled out of it.

I felt a familiar clutch in my nether regions when I recognized it. Here we go again, even though I doubted D'Shea would just go through the motions. Or would she? Would this even be memorable beyond the fact that I didn't know why she waited so long to take me? Jaunda had made herself memorable, as had Gaelan and Rausery, and even Qivni, Panagan and Moria, but for different reasons.

I mean, she could fuck me anywhere she wanted, but I was already used to it. She could have been one of those to train me at the beginning. Why hadn't she?

D'Shea unveiled the magical phallus, releasing it from its confines, and it swayed with weight. I was watching it rather than my Elder's face when she climbed on the bed to get close to me.

"It's different."

I felt her warm hand run up one of my thighs as she kneeled between them. "Indeed? What do you mean, Sirana?"

It was...larger, for one. 

"It isn't the same Feldeu Gaelan uses," I answered.

"Hm." D'Shea leaned over, practically looming over me and braced on her knees and one arm. She slowly drew in her breath through her nose near my skin, scenting me, before lowering her face just enough to plant a soft, nibbling kiss on my mouth. "Why would it be the same one?" she said near my ear.

"I thought she was borrowing yours."

My Elder chuckled. "And assumed it was one to a Sister? Careful with those assumptions, Blue Eyes."

She used her thighs to spread mine wider; she braced herself on one arm as the other remained down closer to our hips out of sight. She was face-to-face with me and all I could see looking down were her purple-tipped breasts softly pressed against mine.

I felt the Feldeu nudge at my sex and I was surprised how quickly she'd donned it. Yet I relaxed by reflex, allowing it to enter me. It was much thicker in girth than Gaelan's or Jaunda's—more on par with Kerse or...maybe the Duergar. 

My mouth opened to draw in a breath as I prepared to feel more of her thrusts...except that it struck me I hadn't seen D'Shea's eyes roll or her face react in pure pleasure as I'd seen on all the others before. She was still staring intently at me.

I realized that I hadn't heard a magical command word.

That wasn't right. *Wait, no—*

I started to move, intending to scoot up and out from under her, maybe right off the bed, there was no headboard— but D'Shea grabbed my hair and yanked my head viciously to the side to hold me in place, shoving more of the Feldeu into me and purring against my chest, "Yemennija."

That I felt something grab firm hold of me from the inside was extremely unnerving, almost as if it had created a vacuum. Although the next instant I felt the hot bulb inside my birth canal wash my guts in energy and I was instantly aware of the severe hunger in my groin, and also the hyper-sensitive flesh jutting up. It brushed against D'Sheas thigh first, then her mound and fur. I choked on my scream, at first thinking to move it away to protect the thing, then suddenly trying to aim it, to sink it somewhere hot and wet and tight—

"No...no, s-stop," I barely breathed, grimacing as I writhed and D'Shea held me down with both hands now, pinning my wrists.

"Why are you fighting?" she asked fiercely, moving her knees one at a time over my thighs so she was straddling me. My erection was pressing lengthwise against her sex and she was rubbing herself over it, her hips swaying side to side and around. "Isn't it among the best pleasure?"

The sensation was so strong it was pure agony. I did cry out then.

It was so much as I'd felt in the wilderness, with the aftereffects of the ritual stealing my will and ability to think, helpless to run or fight, the only focus being the emptiness between my legs. Except this time, I wasn't empty, wasn't aching to be filled. I needed to do the filling; I needed to feel the yielding void, the steaming softness wrapped snugly around me like a—a ...I didn't even know what to call it.

I just needed to fuck it or to kill it. One or the other. Maybe both.

"Sirana...Sirana, stop. Calm down, you're only making it worse—"

I attacked suddenly, my head striking against that of the warm body on top of me. I saw stars in front of my eyes and felt the pain but still jerked one wrist at the same time. Her grip on me slipped and she collapsed, warm breasts pressed to me and I clutched her hard, both my arms around her ribs as if I were drowning, holding her to me. I moved my hips to feel the head of the phallus drag across her sex in teasing torture, but within moments I figured out the angle.

I got it inside.

I thrust up inside her and groaned loudly against her shoulder, biting the big muscle there and holding on for my life as pleasure exploded behind my eyes again and again, every time the length slid inside that slit as far as it could go. There was no doubt my eyes were rolling back in my head.

She was so slick...so hot...oh, Lolth, the tight grip as she spasmed around me—

I was completely lost and unaware of just when the control moved from me back to her, but she had gotten me to quit squeezing her torso against me. My arms no longer trapped her and she was moving more freely now, working her snatch over my member, caressing it, taking it deep, loving it. I could hear her ragged breathing, the effort she was putting into coupling with me from above.

Wordless moans continually sounded in my ears, probably mine most of the time, but I felt her body clutch itself around me multiple times. One time it was in a quick, familiar flutter, and moist breath flowed across out chests and I knew, yes, she was enjoyed getting fucked, enjoying the fucking, oh Lolth, it felt so good, please, let me climax.

I'd die if I didn't.

"Sirana...Sirana can you hear me? Relax...relax and...let it come. You're holding it back."

I couldn't, I couldn't relax, every new stroke just curled my toes and pulled me taut as a bow, made me arch my back up, stone-hard nipples pointed to the ceiling. If she didn't stop, I couldn't relax as she said. She had to stop fucking me.

Oh! Oh! Oh...no...please, don't stop....

I'm gonna die. 

What have you done to me, Drow?

"Relax, breathe with me, breathe...now...come on...yes, that's it. Breathe. Listen to me breathe. Follow me back."

I knew I was breathing as I felt some of the pain only as I realized it was going away. Sensation flooded my groin, the piercing sword seeming to get harder, pulsing a few times as it seemed to swell within her.

"Yes....yes—AAHH!" I screamed, pressing my head back into the soft bed as incredible pressure began to unravel inside me, as waves and waves of pleasure rolled through my cock and exploded in my head. I thrust in and tried to push it in as far as it could go; my muscles locked and I groaned again through bared, clenched teeth.

There were spots as my vision came back slowly as I blinked, gasping hard and feeling the ebb and flow of sensation as it dwindled in a way that made it seem like all was right with the world.

I eventually focused on the Drow still straddling me, braced on her knees and her back straight, though about half of me was still wedged up inside her. She had a bleeding bite mark on her shoulder and a bruise swelling up on one side of her forehead; I could taste blood in my mouth and my head ached right in the center of my forehead. Her nipples looked like they had been twisted and stretched up far more than they'd have gotten on their own—although while I had evidence for having caused the first two injuries, I didn't know about that one.




Sufferance Ch. 05



Eventually it came back.

It was Elder D'Shea. And we were in her bed.

She was injured and glaring at me.

Oh, fuck.

Even under her displeasured gaze, however, for a few seconds I only wanted to sleep. I even considered just closing my eyes for a few moments, and when I woke up—

If I ever did.

"I-I...apologize, Elder," I gasped, fighting back the urge to nap. 

I figured I'd be taking some kind of punishment for this, but wasn't going to volunteer anything. I was genuinely sorry, though; I'd rather not get so far gone that I started trying to rip the flesh from my superior's shoulder with my teeth....

She huffed an exasperated and ill-tempered laugh and got off me, taking hold of my erection. She said what I took to the release word, and I felt the immediate separation of the Feldeu from my inner walls and outer folds, and it was once again just a rod stuffed up my twat. She pulled it out, continued staring at me, studying me in a definite foul mood. 

She may have climaxed during our coupling (I was fairly sure she had) and she may have guided me out of the spiral of sensation that I'd been trapped in, but that didn't mean she was any pleased with me.

"I have never seen someone react like that to the Feldeu, Sirana."

"It was...my first time, Elder."

"Not even a first time!"

"Well...it might've helped if you'd given me some warning, Elder."

For a moment it looked like she wanted to slap me; I don't know why she held back. "I have the right to fuck you any way I want, young Sister. I didn't want to warn you."

I swallowed. "As you say, but...I was not in my right mind, Elder. That was not my fault."

"You full-flight panicked. I would have thought that you of any would have gained control sooner, but you never did. I had to remind you even to work your lungs. I expected more of you."

My brow furrowed and I felt resentment at her words. "Then ask me a question, Elder D'Shea. Anyone would expect that of *you* before closing a report and passing judgment. Aren't you going to ask?"

"Too bold in your afterglow, are you?" she hissed, leaning down and grabbing both my wrists to pin them again. "Fine. What in the Underdark was happening in that deviant mind of yours, Sirana?"

A drop of her blood from the shoulder bite landed on my breast, and I blinked as the vision of myself in the mirror back on the plantation—disheveled, muddy, and injured. The Duergar bite had been on my left shoulder, the same as hers.

Some of the thoughts just now had seemed as if I'd thought them before. Not mine, not exactly. But male. Genuinely male. As if it had been the Duergar again inside my mind and my body at the same time. I'd heard his thoughts, felt his sensations as he was fucking my own body.

I felt suddenly nauseous but looked back at D'Shea's eyes. 

"You know," she stated. "I see it. Tell me."

I could not lie to her; she'd know if I lied or evaded. But no, I didn't want to tell her, not this.

It was already too late. I felt myself tremble as I swallowed down the nausea; she could feel my reactions, too, she was touching me. I was in no position to lie.

"It was...as it felt in the Underdark, Elder. After my trials, after the ritual, when the Sisterhood deposited me out in the wilderness. I told you...I told you then the power of the Goddess, the aftermath of that ritual was 'distracting' for me."

D'Shea nodded slowly, still watching every tick in my face.

I felt anger and fear mix in my middle and my breasts rose and fell faster as I breathed. "I underplayed that. It was utterly crippling, D'Shea. I couldn't satisfy myself, I tried. I wanted to scream from the isolation and lack of outlets. I could have died from the want, all I had to do was give up and let something find me. That was the worst thing you could have done to me after that ritual."

She tilted her head at that statement. "But you made it back," she murmured.

"Only because I found something to fuck." My throat was incredibly tight with emotion; I ground my teeth. I didn't want to say the next part, but I would.

"Yes. You found the Consort."

"No. I found a Duergar. Psionic."

D'Shea was genuinely shocked; her hold on my wrists loosened. Soon she let me go altogether and leaned back, sitting on her bed straight-backed. She stared at me before her gaze trailed over my body and down to where she'd set the Feldeu she'd used on me.

She was deep thought, and looked far more intrigued than disgusted. That genuinely shocked me in return, but somehow I felt calmer after the confession. So be it. It was exactly why our first coupling, hers and mine, had gone the way it had, and I knew it, and there was no other way for me to explain it without my Elder knowing I was hiding something. And I knew full-well she could use spells and compulsion potions if she decided she couldn't trust anything I said.

"Just the essentials to start, Sirana," she murmured again, looking at me. "What happened?"

"I encountered a Duergar scouting for gems. I needed food and water; he had it. I tried to bluff him to give it up, but it didn't work. He tried...he went invisible, so I circled him with light and we started fighting. He could hurl stones at me with his mind. I knocked him out and went through his things to get something to eat, but...but...it...the need overwhelmed me right then and he woke up."

I blinked. Dammit, absolutely not, no tears. Not even in frustration or shame.

"His eyes were pure white, and before I knew it, we were mentally connected. He...it...my need overwhelmed him, too. We fought. He bit me. We fucked. I climaxed so many times...I heard all his thoughts, felt his pleasure, his anger, his hatred of Drow...only when he finally peaked did the connection seem broken. I sought the nearest stone and struck his temple, got loose, retrieved my dagger to slit his throat."

"He's dead, then," D'Shea interjected, and I nodded. She seemed relieved. "Go on."

"After that, I could make it back. The need only took control of me again when I saw the Consort. But that was the second time, not the first."

Again D'Shea ponder, her face similar to when she was reading something with great concentration. I just swallowed, feeling my sticky tongue and wanting some water to drink.

"Intriguing," she whispered. "And you still returned to us after that."

I nodded guardedly. "I never intended to admit it, D'Shea."

She almost smiled. "But you did. And why...? Because your first time donning the Feldeu brought up whatever impression that dwarf left on your psyche. Indeed, if I had given you that warning, your guard would have been up and it might not have happened. As it was..."

She was looking at me intensely and I felt I would rather be sitting up. She allowed it and watched me as I scooted a little back from her, sitting cross-legged.

"It's luck when one finds those more powerful psionic Duergar, Sirana. Most of them are either not gifted or are weakly so. But this one could push in deep, and I believe he trapped himself in our divine magic when he did. He was trapped!"

She sounded almost excited. I had to take it at her word that it might've happened that way. She had the background, after all.

"There's no telling what intelligence he left inside your mind."

Oh shit. Fucking shit, no.

I started shaking my head vehemently. "D'Shea, no—"

Pure fear. I couldn't unring the bell, but I sure wanted to.

She reached out to grip my forearm, holding on. "Remember my title, Sister. You are out of slips. Now, listen to me. First, you are not the first Red Sister to fuck a dwarf. Or a Draegloth, or a Man, or a list of other races I could name. No one amongst the Sisterhood will care beyond a few jokes just as they do with the Consort. They will know you did it to survive, and you chose to come back to us regardless. 

"Knowing what I do of the Noble class, you could just as easily have chosen exile or perhaps death. But the Red Sisters have no such boundaries; it is our advantage. I thought you knew that already."

I shook my head, then paused. "Well...Jaunda did tell me about attacking an exploration group...but she was doing all the fucking."

D'Shea chuckled, still holding my arm. "Yours were special circumstances, Sirana, Lolth's own magic. And with a potential benefit that few others get even in an interrogation. If we can bring that impression up to the surface, then you may have an edge on the Duergar. We'll get Lelinahdara's help again. You'll know things about them which may come in handy, and you can help other Sisters."

I bet I didn't have a choice about this, but at least it sounded like I wouldn't be ostracized for taking dwarf seed. I nodded slowly. She let go of my arm.

"Good. Now." She turned to pick up the thick Feldeu again. "Retrieve for me one of the small, dark green bottles in the top bedside drawer. I don't want your bite to get infected. Then we're going to try this again. With plenty of warning this time, you insubordinate, secret-keeping dwarf-fucker."

****

Thank you for following the story this far! I've already got Chpt 6 mapped you; just need to write it. :)



Sufferance Ch. 06



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 2012

This story is continued (and how!).

The story so far heavily references both "Sisterhood" and "Subterrane".



Chapter 6

It was easier to spy on those at Court; the tunnel system saw to it. Less easy to spy on a House proper, on their own turf, their own plantation, especially when one couldn't be detected and any slips or witnesses had to be dealt with. It could get sticky quickly as not always could it mean the death of the detector, so better to not be detected in the first place.

D'Shea had been sending me to alternating locations; House Itlaun and House Aurenthin. One guess who the Drow of interest were.

I enjoyed watching Jael Aurenthietti much more than Curgia and her House's Consort, by far. In the former, I saw evidence of an iron will and a gleeful level of furious energy. I did not know anything of her past—D'Shea didn't want me to know so as not to color my reports—but it was a joy to watch her practice her martial skills and sometimes listen as her double-talk went right past those who looked down on her for being of a low House.

Jael wanted so much more; I could smell the determination.

She clearly wasn't right for the part of a Matron; her impulse-control wasn't the best and she was more reactive than proactive, and granted, that role was already taken by her oldest Sister anyway. Three females would have to die before she would get a chance, but I didn't think that she wanted it anyway.

She was a solitary one in her family; she volunteered for patrols and her Matron seemed just as pleased to let her go. Her violent sparring was only against others with which she had no close connection beyond similar training. Indeed, she even seemed rather anti-social.

Not often did I observe her having sex, but what I saw was just enough. It caused me to reflect that whichever Red Sisters had been watching me at Court before they came for me...well, it explained some of my reputation coming in and a comment Jaunda had made in more than a handful of our couplings: "Come on, I know you like it."

Jael was a fierce one even having sex. I witnessed a few of both sexes, but slightly more female. I didn't know if that was significant or not. The Red Sisters would have witnessed me taking only males, never females, and quite a lot of them; that was significant.

The most interesting detail I gleaned was that she was usually overbearing the other to be dominant—using quiet threats and physical power—but it almost seemed she was slightly disappointed when they submitted, even after a healthy struggle.

It made me wonder whether some part of her—with the females especially—almost wished someone were strong enough to defeat her. It would wipe that sneer of contempt from her face.

I knew there were plenty of Red Sisters who could do that for her.

I thought she was right for us, and it wasn't just the fact that then she would be the youngest Red Sister, although that was a side-benefit for me. She was also right for Rausery, more so than D'Shea. That was according to plan as well. I wanted us to Collect her, for certain, but wouldn't push it too hard. If I mentioned no flaws at all, D'Shea would think less of my evaluation.

Impulsive. Strong temper. Bitter toward Priestesses and Houses above hers.

But give her some direction, something to do outside of the "don't overturn the bridge" norm of society, re-train her perception to minimize the lop-sided importance of her House's number, and she would be unbreakable and loyal.

Rausery would love her.

By comparison...or more contrast, I quickly grew bored watching Curgia and Tulia and their Mother and Aunt. Middling-to-low status, medium-term plotting, much business and merchant speak, utter fear and compliance with any suggestions, directives, or hints which came from the Priestesses. They over-analyzed every detail, tying their own web tighter and smaller around themselves in their anxiety. Making it even more boring, from what I could tell, it had nothing to do with me. 

The only interesting part was that after a few months I could spot the same subtle signs of pregnancy in both sisters, except one was gloriously proud of it and the other was trying desperately to hide it.

Guess which was which?

To be honest, most of my spying was slow-paced; Jael was the very pleasant exception in that she could not seem to be idle for long.

Even watching the Consort mate with one of the House Nobles was boring; they never tapped his potential, never saw him as more than a prize, a status-symbol, and treated him like fine crystal. They were also as mechanical as Tulia had been on the altar. As for him, he was compliant and placid, and he orgasmed oh-so-prettily for them, performing as expected.

I honestly wondered how his interest in sex did not flag after a time.

I sighed; watching House Itlaun was so frustrating and mind-numbingly tedious.

Occasionally I would speak with the Consort. The first time it had been Gaelan and me. We had wanted to establish his recollection and immediately connect the Red Sisters with my face. 

Since I'd been naked and raping him at the time he met me, he wouldn't necessarily know what it had been about when Gaelan had arrived to drag me off him. It worked well enough; he accepted that he'd been attacked by a Red Sister for an unknown reason, and rescued by one in turn. It added to the mystique of us, even if it did nothing for my pride, leaving him to wonder why one Red Sister would hog-tie another and take her away somewhere...only to bring her back, fully clothed and equipped this time.

He also understood what was expected of him. I was not surprised to discover that it was not the first time for him to be an informant.

The next time, however, I had been instructed to gather intelligence alone; Gaelan would have a different assignment. Oh, the Consort hadn't been pleased that "the other Red Sister" was not there to provide an easier way to report; he'd barely made any eye contact with me before, preferring to deal with her, though he knew neither of our names.

I had savored that first encounter; delightful and surprising, and still so clear in my memory. It had led to more than I would have guessed as well.

Per the Priestesses' requirements, he'd been given his own quarters at House Itlaun. It made complete sense, and he'd be telling the Priestesses much of what went on in this House. The advantage we believed the Red Sisters had in his case was that he truly would not want his Priestesses knowing about his encounter with me. While he was likely aware that it could cause some strife for me and cause friction between the two powerful groups, we had to highlight for him the fact that he should care more about his own fate than mine.

This Consort would not be as valuable if it was well-known among the Nobles that he'd once been "despoiled," taken by force while under the protection of another House. Following that, he wouldn't be as valuable to the Priestesses as an informer. Then... who knew where he'd be? He would be sent somewhere, but who knew where? Better to follow the path he knew; it had its better qualities and luxuries, and all he had to do was remain silent.

It was why I had been sent here alone; to see to it.

"Where is the Other?" the Consort had asked after setting the sound-dampener ward and giving us privacy. 

"Only myself this eve," I smiled, showing my desire and a bit of sinister playfulness. 

He swallowed. I could see the dread on his face and had already anticipated why. He believed he would now be required to couple with me anytime I demanded, and he would still have to remain silent about it. He expected the blackmail, considered it a foregone conclusion.

Under normal circumstances, he would be right. However, I knew perfectly well D'Shea was testing my control, and she'd explained that she didn't want him so without hope with long-term abuse that he felt he had nothing to lose in revealing what had happened to the Priestesses. He didn't know this, however, and we far preferred to leave him wondering when or if I would take him again, rather than to enlighten him that he was actually safe from me.

It was true that I wanted the Red Sisters more than I wanted his perfect body.

Resolve came over his face the next moment then. How I loved the honest expressions I could see.

"What do you want?" he asked, his left hand flexing nervously.

"An update since my last visit, gorgeous one."

He tilted his head slightly at the compliment but nodded, giving me that which he knew. Or claimed to. Unlike the reports to the Priestesses, he could be lying to us and we had taken what he said so far with a grain of salt. My assignment here tonight was to determine whether or not his only reason for being completely truthful might be to avoid being regularly used by me.

D'Shea would love having the leverage if I could get it.

"I see. Is that all?" I asked.

He nodded.

"And are you lying, either in fact or by omission?"

"No, Red Sister."

He didn't look away at first as I stared at his fine eyes, but he soon grew uncomfortable with my silence and my gaze and blinked, looking to the side and shifting his weight on his well-formed sandaled feet. He wore a similar style outfit to the first time I'd seen him, but this time the cloth wrapping his waist and draped artfully over one shoulder was finer quality. He likely wore nothing else beneath.

I smiled salaciously, trailing a hot gaze up his legs, lingering on his crotch, waist, chest and shoulders, and ending with an appreciative hum as I nodded, as if making a decision. I loved that his hair was down, free-flowing; it was a contrast to mine when on a mission: tight-plaited and bound against the back of my neck. He also wore a different circlet around his throat; still of the round belly symbol but integrated with House Itlaun's crest. It looked brand-new, very recently made.

"I guess I have some spare time, then."

His eyes widened a fraction and he took a step back. "Red Sister, no, please, I've told you before, if my Mistress—"

I closed the distance between us threateningly even as he backed up. My voice was coarse. "Where do you think your *telling* me anything from your lying mouth is going to have the result you want?"

"I'm not lying!" he exclaimed, bumping into the wardrobe with his back and giving it a startled glance before looking back at me. "Forgive my slip. Not telling you, I'm begging of you."

I ignored that. "It conflicts with another report about Curgia's condition, dear one," I said more quietly as I got chest-to-chest, well within his space. "One of you is lying."

I took hold of the bottom of his wrap, my soft leather glove brushing along his thigh as I started to raise it up. He still had the spirit to grab another part of the cloth—not my wrist, the Consort did have intelligence—and try to hold it down. It was taut enough that one sharp tug on my part would probably tear it.

I would have loved to; the sound would be satisfying and would stroke my hunger. But then he'd have to explain it to his Mistresses.

"I'm not the liar, the other is," he said boldly. "I can't be the sire of whatever piglet Curgia is carrying. I've been around enough times in these Houses, I know she wouldn't be hiding it if I were."

"And under which circumstances would you guess she would hide it?"

"Anything unplanned and unapproved," he said.

"Vague theory, nothing more. Any thoughts on Curgia specifically?"

The Consorts jaw tightened. "I don't know. Would guessing count as lying with you?"

"Not when I ask you for your opinion. Which I am."

He breathed out and swallowed, still uncomfortable with me caging him against the wardrobe. "I'd say she was forced somehow."

I quirked one brow. "Sounds unlikely. What if it was just from a dalliance with a low-born slave?"

He shook his head. "I know how badly they wanted a Consort. Curgia is not impulsive. And...and I am familiar with the signs of force, Red Sister. I have been able to observe it my whole existence around me."

"And even experience it once," I quipped. "But why would those signs be the same in a female? I assume you've been watching males, observing from afar and being glad that it wasn't you. And it doesn't happen to females. Being forced is a male fate, isn't it?"

I knew very well otherwise, of course, I just wanted his reaction. He looked delightfully angry for a few seconds, his life energy churning and spinning beneath his skin from his chest up to his face, before he got himself under control again.

"Females are forced just as males are. And now *you* are lying, Red Sister," he said, hissing the last word a little.

"Oh?" I wanted to hear this.

"The Consorts all know why even the highest *female* Nobles fear you. You are the worst and most cruel of the rapists, and no gender is excused. I'm not even certain children are spared."

For a moment, I felt a reaction similar to his at the comment; that hot flash of anger and insult. However, I smirked and didn't enlighten him that we didn't torture children that way. Kill them, perhaps, only when absolutely necessary and when the entire House had been condemned...but I knew none of my Sisters who would be aroused by the too-young age of a thin, prepubescent Drow.

We still protected and supported the gift and ability to bear those young in the first place, and it was explicitly forbidden by the Red Sister Prime (in case one of us somehow did get the idea to experiment).

The Consort could see in the dark as well as I could; he'd have to interpret that somatic response of mine on his own. Damning though it was, even for us, my leaders would prefer we not let it leak that there were actually some limits to what the Red Sisters would do to any Nobles who got out of line.

Time for a distraction.

I let go of the cloth of his wrap and slid my hand toward his inner thigh, reaching beneath and up to cup his testicles and he jumped. We were both breathing much more quickly and he actually did push at my wrist to get me to remove my hand. I let my hand go back to his thigh as I leaned to sniff his neck.

He smelled so good...

"Please, don't," he gasped.

"Who would know? No one, unless you told them. I know you wouldn't."

"Just leave me be, please, I'm not worth the risk!"

"Don't you want me?" 

Given our "conversation" thus far, it should have been a ridiculous question; I was teasing him again, pushing the situation to get him where I wanted him. But I also asked right then because I was somewhat surprised.... He was partially erect when I caressed his privates again, this time over the surface of the cloth.

"I'll get caught. Everyone always gets caught, sooner or later!" he said vehemently.

I blinked. That hadn't been the "No" I was expecting.

In the seconds following as I kept touching him, he became fully erect, much harder than when I'd forced an erection from him during our first encounter, and he suppressed most of a moan. I looked at his eyes, some of my ardor shoved to the side with difficulty as my higher functions focused more tightly on his words as he spoke again.

"Don't tempt me," he pleaded, quivering close to me. "Red Sister, I would lie beneath you if I had the choice, but I don't and I can't. I can promise that I'll never lie by fact or omission, to you or any Red Sister, if you will just not...force me. It jeopardizes everything I have, and each time you do it, the more likely I'll be caught and punished. It won't matter that I had no choice."

That was exactly what D'Shea had wanted me to make him understand on this assignment, but it seemed she already had that edge. None of us had quite realized he'd thought about it to the same place that we had; we thought we would have to convince him.

I was silent for several long moments before I spoke again.

"Why would you lie under me?" I asked, only because I wanted to know. Maybe I'd understand after I had time to think why he was erect when he was cornered and had plenty of reason to hate me, but right now I was bewildered. Why was it a temptation for him now?

He hadn't stopped shaking but he tried to slow his breathing, swallowing before speaking. "You see me, and you like what you see."

I narrowed my eyes slightly. "I also hurt you. And enjoyed it."

"You tested me. And didn't find me lacking." Another swallow, a flash at that lovely throat. "No one has ever dared...I've wondered how I would react if someone tried. Now I know. And you know. You're the only one who does."

The stiff rod still in my hand pulsed once. 

"Used to being treated like the thinnest crystal glass, hm?" I asked, and he nodded, giving another little push at my wrist with his hand to get me to let go of his erection. Very reluctantly, I did.

He spoke in a quick, hushed voice. "When you found me, wh-what were you doing out there, Red Sister?" he asked. "You were naked and injured and muddy and seemed a little....well, all you had was a blade. The only direction you could have come from was the wilderness. Had you been attacked? I saw the bitemark; it wasn't from a creature but something on two legs. Did they rob you?"

Observant and intelligent enough to use deductive reasoning, and he'd done some studying somewhere. How long had I been underestimating the males at Court? I actually felt foolish now. It was a good thing I'd already confessed about the dwarf and the rape to D'Shea, or this one might have something I didn't want her to know.

I smirked and chuckled softly, nodding. "Attacked? Yes. Robbed? No. I was already exactly as you saw me when they attacked, and I kept my blade. The attackers lost their lives; I was only bitten out of a desperate last act."

Let him think it had been more than one who overwhelmed me. It was easier to accept and better for the Sisters' reputation than what had actually happened.

He nodded, his eyes wide with interest. He'd stopped shaking. "Why were you nude with only a blade?"

I quirked my brow at him. "You've received all the information you're getting about that, Consort."

"Yes, Red Sister." He'd expected that reply, I saw. He just had to try.

As the saying went, give a thread, take a tapestry.

I ran my gloved hand greedily down from his neck to shoulder and arm; I couldn't feel his skin but it drew his attention back to its proper place as he realized I hadn't yet agreed to his bargain: truthful reports in exchange for being spared molestation and...temptation.

Wasn't that last quality a kick in the teeth.

I tilted my head and covered his mouth with mine in a deep kiss, trapping him by bracing both arms on either side of him against the wardrobe. He tensed immensely, rigid and fearful, but now I knew with some desire as well. My persistence eventually resulted in his opening his mouth for me. It was hot and slick and tasted of fine wine and spice. My hands left the wardrobe and cupped his jaw and sliding my gloved fingers into his hair, holding him steady as I kissed deeper. 

I remained ever-aware of the location of his hands. He kept them flat and open, pressed to the wardrobe. It was not a refusal to touch me or a sign of avoidance. He was showing me that he would not take action or steal anything as I had my fill of his mouth. It was a sign of acceptance. My hips moved of their own accord, my mound coming in contact with his member, and, damn him to Lolth, he responded in kind.

I was only torturing myself at this point.

He was shaking again when I drew back; so was I, if I was honest.




Sufferance Ch. 06



This was too dangerous. This had to be the last time.

"Agreed," I said huskily, releasing his face and dropping my hands to my sides. "I'll not molest you or tease you at all so long as your intelligence to any Red Sister is the complete truth as you know it."

My Consort nodded immediately. "Yes. Agreed. Thank you."

I stepped back from him. Time to go. 

I was probably going to regret for the rest of my life that there wasn't a win-win way to fuck him.

Before leaving, however, I asked him, "Do Consorts have names?"

My eyes detected an energy flare in his face in the dark, even if his expression hadn't changed much; he'd still had a strong emotional reaction to the question. "Yes. But it's different with every House we're given to, and only those in that House can know it."

How many ways the Priestesses controlled everything they could, even a Consort's identity.

"Well. I shall call you Auslan, if it's all the same to you," I said, mostly on impulse.

He blinked those fine eyes. "Auslan" referred to uncovered treasure in our language. He nodded. "As you wish, Red Sister."

His tone lacked both apathy and displeasure, though I knew it hadn't contained delight or satisfaction either. I wondered what emotion he'd just felt, being named in secret yet again?

This time not even the Priestesses knew it.

*****

Though I had taken my time leaving House Itlaun with care so as not to be seen, with the distance grew my frustration and the ache between my legs. I could blame my Consort for it; he never had to admit he would have me, if it were possible. He could have kept that gorgeous mouth shut.

I didn't care to return and give my report just yet; it could wait. I wanted cock first; real cock, not another Sister, not the Feldeu.

I decided it was time to visit Callitro and see his progress on my request if he wasn't already finished. I even risked wasting another pregnancy-prevention draught by swallowing it along the way, since it would take me some time to get to the Tower even through my Sisters' channels.

I had already been delayed or preempted numerous times even trying to see him, or to begin my search for the invisible wizard. D'Shea had been "training" me most of my sleep periods with her Feldeu, making me wear it and increasing my endurance and my control of it, bit by bit. It was very slow going right now.

At this time, I did not like it as much as some Sisters did. True, it was beyond pleasure that I felt when it was bonded to me, but I wanted nothing more than to direct the pace, to wallow in the heat and moisture, to see to my need...and D'Shea wouldn't allow it. After the first time, I did not get the opportunity take her, to force the penetration when I chose, and to fuck her that willfully, as I had the first time.

I believed that she knew I would take the opening if given it, but only while wearing the Feldeu. Unsettling images came into my mind every time we coupled. Sometimes I thought I wanted to test that composure of hers, to see how it held up under certain acts... such as a rough drilling between her buttocks perhaps, like the Surface Elf who Jaunda had speared. I wanted her presenting to me on her knees.

She often spoke well of my flexibility, but what about hers?

D'Shea had asked once whether I wanted to borrow the large Feldeu. "To use on Gaelan, perhaps?"

I'd been quiet for a long time, conflicted. The pleasure versus the loss of control, the fact that I could easily breech the boundaries of my deal with Gaelan without realizing it. I could easily do something I'd wish I hadn't later.

My Elder'd had to remind me to answer her: "Yes or no, Sirana?"

"No."

She'd noted the reaction and nodded, but didn't probe me about it. 

I knew nothing of how this kind of training may or may not differ from that of other Red Sisters under D'Shea's hand. I did not even know if D'Shea had introduced all of them to the Feldeu or not, as she had with me. She'd only made it clear that the way it affected me was not typical, thanks to the encounter with the Deurgar.

The Priestess Lelinahdara had worked with just D'Shea and me a few times since my first time wearing a Feldeu. In spite of what my Elder had said about the other Sisters understanding what had happened in the wilderness—about each of them having their own tale—she hadn't yet made it widely known to them. She had asked me to wait and keep it to myself for now. I figured it was likely the Red Sister Prime knew but she gave no indication, and neither did Rausery or anyone else.

Lelinahdara tried to bring the imprint to the surface, even exorcise it, and get that knowledge about the Duergar that we wanted. It had not worked yet, and I was not enjoying those trials. I could agree to cooperate while conscious, I could even open my legs and don the Feldeu to "open the connection," as the Priestess said...but it changed drastically when she worked her magic on me in that alternated state in which my self-control was greatly weakened anyway.



I was only lucky D'Shea believed Lelinahdara when she said that it was the nature of the imprint, that it was not willful disobedience. Apparently the Duergar that I had killed had had significant willpower and stubbornness as qualities of his nature.

"The divine magic is not softening the resistance when I can sense it, and I can only sense it when she wears the phallus," the Priestess had said quietly, wiping her forehead. "I think we are using the wrong kind of energy. We may need a psion, Elder."

Finding one of those on our side in the Underdark would be like finding diamonds encrusted on a living spider. As far as I knew, D'Shea and Lelinahdara were still "researching." As for me, I could wait. I did not want to obsess about a memory.

I still felt completely myself when I did not wear the magical phallus; there were no dreams or reveries, no impulses or thoughts that seemed alien to me. It was only when I wore the erection and was flooded with its magic that I became confused, and so far, I'd worn it only with D'Shea. I noted, after the first failed attempts to clean out my head, that she did not offer to let me borrow the Feldeu again.

I could still allow penetration of myself, though, anytime that I wanted.

And after my too-revealing meeting with Auslan, I wanted Callitro as a reasonable, much safer substitute. I was going to the Tower; hopefully I wouldn't be interrupted like the first and only time I'd been there.

I'd been doing a little more research about the place since becoming a Red Sister, for obvious reasons perhaps, but also because I finally noted that wizards had been a rarity at Court. Yet there were last counted to be one-hundred and twenty-three of them in the City, all with permanent quarters at the Tower.

This was a clear contrast to the females who developed a talent for magic. They studied at Court or sometimes with a private tutor at their own House. There were two-hundred and forty-six of them in the City at last count.

The school and dormitories for male wizards was commonly called the Tower because it loomed over all but the Palace which also housed the Priesthood. It could be called free-standing, I supposed. It had been built into and around a gigantic, natural column, where a stalagmite and stalactite had met in the middle of the cavern's floor and ceiling. There were many levels, all basically circular in floor plan, though the largest few floors both at the base and the crown of the structure contained only either twenty or so individual quarters or three to four larger functional rooms, such as a kitchen or cleaning room. The center levels were smaller than that, and I knew there had to be room made for libraries and archives, in addition to the large set of Drow wizards with their many specialties.

I understood the male wizards were functionally a very solitary group, eating, sleeping, and studying alone for a better portion of their time. It didn't mean, however, that they didn't receive "customers" or gossip amongst each other in different parts of the Tower, or have some of the largest sets of pointed ears catching all that was whispered whenever they had a purpose for leaving it. 

Hoarding knowledge was their basis for living, after all. If any single, male-oriented group could ever pose a threat to the Valsharess, it would likely be the wizards—assuming they could work together for long enough, which wasn't likely. But it was still one reason they were not allowed to come to Court without invitation, and were not allowed free-reign to wander the Drow City unescorted. 

Some Drow chose to trade that tighter leash for the knowledge and practice of magic, and some simply demonstrated the proficiency while young and were forcibly relocated. I had a standing bet with myself that my invisible wizard had been of the latter category. He had not behaved as if he had willingly moved into the Tower.

Callitro, on the other hand, had gone willingly. He'd told me during our first visit. I was allowed to see him because the Red Sister Prime knew and approved, and Callitro's own headmaster, Phaelous, also knew. This was the one area where I was required to have my comings and goings noted; even a Red Sister wasn't exempt.

On the whole, I thought, not many Red Sisters visited this place unless they were on assignment for straight execution, with a document signed by the Valsharess. Phaelous could not bar the Sister entrance, but there were simply no stealth-killings of wizards in the Tower. Unless it was from among their own.

"Sister," the headmaster acknowledged as I approached the first gate, which had no physical guards. "Your name and purpose?"

I'd heard his voice on the air when I passed the first ward signaling my approach.

I thought back the answer as it began to get harder to step forward over the mushroom field leading to the second gate. *Sirana, to receive an update from Callitro in person.*

I heard an amused grunt. "You've taken an infertility draught?"

I rolled my eyes. *Yes.*

"Proceed. The constructs will let you pass."

The second gate was guarded by two of the same kind of pale-skinned giants that had guarded the main chamber leading to the Valsharess's throne room. I was glad I didn't have to speak to them the way D'Shea had, but I tensed, ready to move fast if they did.

As the elderly wizard had said, though, they just stayed still and let me pass without looking at me.

I wondered, since my invisible wizard had said my name in that chamber all those months ago and I would need to identify myself every time I came here, whether he already knew very well that I had purpose here.

Possibly. If he did, it would make it harder to identify him if he decided to hide.

The stone double-doors parted as I approached; they didn't open wide, but only enough for me to slip through. Phaelous stood on the other side in an otherwise empty and sparsely decorated lobby. He had very nearly solid blonde hair; it implied at first that he was older even than the Valsharess, but then I looked at his eyes. He was not as old as She, probably by a few centuries if I hazarded a guess, but his life and the magic he practiced had taken its toll. He was pre-maturely gold, but still respectfully aged.

He smiled at me, which surprised me just like it had the first time. I did not know why except that it showed creases and fine lines that I simply was not used to seeing. His eyes may be younger, but the lines around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth were far deeper than the Valsharess's.

"Welcome, young Red Sister. As you are not here with an executive order then the rules of preservation apply on these grounds."

"I know. No maiming, disfigurement, poisoning, or any action that would debilitate a wizard lastingly in applying his trade."

"Thank you for your understanding. Callitro is still on the seventeenth level, room five. Please do not deviate from your path."

Phaelous had lost whatever mystique he ever held for the Red Sisters long ago, I saw it in his eyes, although there was absolutely nothing wrong with his manners. It was just as well that we spoke frankly. He lived on the bottom floor and managed a lot of the Tower from there; the entrance to this place was solid, warded, protected.

It still made me wonder what "fail-safes" the ruling bodies would no doubt have. This place couldn't be impregnable to all females or it wouldn't be allowed to exist. Still, at this point in time, I wasn't sure how I was going to find a way to identify the wizard from my trial, certainly not if I couldn't wander around the place, or even get in without a reason.

Fortunately my primary purpose this time was to get my favorite toy between my legs. Nice and simple. I could do that.

A body passed from level to level, and sometimes around a level, via teleportation circles; aside from the small windows coiling around the Tower and allowing one to look out over the City, the place was sealed into compartments. I supposed stairs were impractical, as was cutting consecutive holes in each floor through which to levitate. The former was slow and potentially dangerous, while the latter was a literal bottleneck if many needed to move at once, and could compromise the sound construction.

I did not need to actively use magic to use the circles; it would work for any of Drow blood who made it past Phaelous. I went from the base to level seventeen in a heartbeat and a slight surge of stomach upset. I could immediately smell spice and eclectic components, old fiberstalk parchment and burning candles. There was a very small stone pressed into the wall about every ten feet which glowed magically, but very mellow. My eyes adjusted and I could see the hall bending around the curve on both sides of me. Because of the light, I could see the door to my left was labeled "17-1" and the door to my right was labeled "17-12". Callitro's room was just across from me, if I could walk through the center support column.

I was aware of at least one door sliding open slightly as I walked past, and I said without looking back, "About your business."

The door immediately closed again.

Suppressing a smile, I reached 17-5 quickly and placed my gloved hand on a smooth piece of polished stone on the right side of the door.

"Who is there?" I could hear Callitro's muffled voice through the thin stone.

I took my hand off the soundless door-summons. Phaelous could have given him warning; interesting that he hadn't. "Guess."

My eager battle mage managed to open the door very quickly and was consciously pressing his lips together, remaining silent until I could step inside and have the door shut behind us.

"Red Sister, a pleasure to—"

"Take off your robe."

He blinked. "I...um—huh?"

I closed the space between us, starting to tug at his wizard's belt as I said to him, "Are you finished with my ring? Yes or no?"

"Um, no, that's what—"

"Then we fuck now. If we have time later, we'll talk."

Callitro nodded, his eyes wide as it struck him that perhaps he should begin to get in the mood, right now. He looked down at my hands just as I released the cinch on his waist. "H-here, let me—"

He took his own belt lined with pouches from me and placed it very gently atop a low array of parchment on his workbench. He removed his rings from his fingers and an amulet from around his neck. His study robe was different from his battle one in that it opened in front and folded over itself, the dark skin of his chest showing only in a thin "V." I seized it once he'd removed his belt and magic items, taking hold and pushing it open like a set of drapes. 

Some lithe flesh was revealed, but there was another knot securing the robe at his waist on the inside, and I plucked impatiently at that to tug it loose. Callitro smothered a snicker in his throat.

"I heard that."

"Apologies, Red Sister. Do you want me to—?"

I slapped his hand away. "I have it."

I unthreaded the knot in reasonable time and found myself staring at a rather heavy-looking package as my hands went by feel to his shoulders and pushed the fabric off him, where it felt to his sandaled feet in a heap. I saw his cock jump once, his testicles contracting slightly in the abrupt change in temperature but quickly recovering as his erection started to grow.

"You're staring." 

Fortunately for him, he didn't sound completely casual or teasing—I could hear just enough nervousness that I didn't feel the need to put the fear of the Red Sisters into him just yet.

And I definitely was staring. By all appearances, he thought it exciting enough. He wasn't as graceful or as beautiful as Auslan, but he would do quite nicely.

I looked upwards, happy to see a reasonably high ceiling and various plants and parts drying on ropes hanging from hooks.

"You have a spare few of those, I expect?" I asked, pointing up at the suspended spell components.

He glanced up, looked at me slightly bewildered but nodded.

"Set one up, then wrap the rope loosely around your wrists and hold on to it. Your hands will remain above your head every moment until I say otherwise."

Based on this second hesitation, I was beginning to suspect that Callitro probably hadn't gotten out of the Tower a lot, and when he had, those he may have served had been...well, I wasn't sure. Regardless, they hadn't made him do this, or at least not this quickly, without any playing or flirting.

It was amusing to think he'd invited me to approach him so openly at the worship ball, excited and dazzled by my outfit, not really knowing what he was submitting to... although I supposed my impulsive kiss after the fight with the Illithids had definitely confused the matter. What did he think, that I would just embrace him in full uniform again, or allow him the same? Neither of us could afford to be that stupid a second time.

I waited impatiently, tense and letting Callitro see the hunger on my face, my gaze raking him again and again as he retrieved a longer strand of rope with a clip-link on one end. His erection had diminished but I knew that was only temporary; I was doing plenty to make him nervous. His hands shook slightly as he stood on a chair to snap the link in place on an open hook. He tested the hold and stepped off the chair again, pushing it out of the way. Glancing at me again, he began winding the rope several times around his wrists, until it was short enough to be over his head, his arms at a bent and relaxed angle.

"Is this...satisfactory?" he asked.

I nodded. It was. I could see his hands, complex gestures were beyond him, and he was completely naked but for his sandals.

I finally pulled off my gloves, tucking them at my waist, and stepped forward to begin caressing his body. He gasped softly and his erection slowly began to harden again. As I kneeled down to remove his sandals for him, I smelled the rich scent coming from his groin; on impulse I nuzzled the trimmed fur at the base of his cock and he made a small sound which he had tried to swallow.

He helped push the sandals out of the way a moment before I opened my mouth and engulfed his member, wanting to taste him now. My tongue flicked madly, my lips were tight around him and he went completely rigid; he would have gargled in his throat if I hadn't just heard him swallow. I was still in excellent practice thanks to the Sisters and massaged and manipulated his sex with my mouth, my lips and tongue, even with my teeth. I teased the soft spot on the underside of his shaft, applying pin-pointed pressure with my tongue, and sometimes I used my thumb and forefinger to tug and roll at the bit of loose skin just beneath the tender ridge on which I nibbled in between longer strokes. 

Callitro began to whimper in helpless abandon as my treatment got more intense and I saw him shaking his head when I looked up; he'd been doing it for a while. I slowed and took another look at him; his wrists were still loosely bound by the rope but his hands gripped the slack, the tension very apparent. His eyes were closed and his teeth were gritted.




Sufferance Ch. 06



"S-Sister...I-I...won't last long," he said when he had the breath again to speak. "I'm s-sorry, I didn't know....you were coming, I didn't prepare—"

"Shut up and spurt in my mouth."

His eyes popped open, wide in disbelief for only a second before I started on him again, stroking and mouthing him with an increasingly demanding pace. I saw his eyes roll once and he lost focus, his body getting tighter as he fast approached his release.

"Ah...oh, Lolth...ah, ah, yes!" he gasped, and his lovely cock swelled up once more between my lips before flexing and loosing the first shot of his fluid into my mouth. His voice left him as he finished his climax hanging from the rope, five or six more strong jets striking the back or roof of my mouth as he shuddered again and again. His legs weakened but he kept hold on the rope by pure reflex.

I collected every drop, but didn't swallow it quite yet.

Standing up slowly after sucking my mouth off him, I was looking down at him now. I took hold of his chin and made him look at me. I had a smirk on my face which at least told him he should be more wary of something, and eventually it occurred to him that I hadn't spoken because I still had something in my mouth.

I read in the next instant that he was, at best, neutral with the thought of tasting his own seed in a very wet kiss. I was horny enough to figure that meant he wouldn't choke on it.

I drew out the kiss, my hands caressing his flanks, gripping and playing hard with his buttocks, until Callitro made a sound. Any sound, I didn't really care, but when he made it, it was a peep that told me I was either hurting him or he was past the limit of his tolerance and might actually try to jerk away.

It was good enough to make me laugh, finally lifting my mouth off him.

"You are very, very tasty, Callitro," I murmured, grinning wide and running my thumb over the fragrant, mixed fluids wetting his chin. My own mouth and cheeks were chilling quickly as well but I was far more used to it than he was. Certain Red Sisters could squirt a lot more.

He swallowed and licked his lips before pursing them again. The wariness reduced a little at the words of approval and he cleared his throat. "I'm glad you think so, Red Sister."

But he didn't agree. How sad that he wasn't more proud of the intoxicating effect of his semen on a female. It made me chuckle again. 

"Well. Now that you'll last longer the second time..." I began significantly, removing first my weapons and then my own belt, setting them each in turn on the floor by his bed.

Callitro swiveled to watch me begin to unbuckle my bracers. His hands started to loosen on the rope. "Shall I—?"

"Don't you dare let go," I growled, and he went still and quiet again.

The wizard watched and hardly blinked as I disrobed, removing my uniform piece by piece. I was very efficient about it, and it was certainly not for his visual benefit, even though his mouth was open as he stared.

I could see the difference between us that fascinated him, even past our gender; we were both young and of an age, only a decade or two apart, and of a healthy weight. However, it was apparent that I was very physical, doing whatever I did outside, and he was not, mostly being kept in the Tower. Neither of us were what one might call muscular compared to many other races, no Drow was. Even the Red Sisters relied far more on speed, dexterity, and endurance than strength to kill. But the definition and tone of my muscles was stark, and his much more subtle.

In spite of his high interest in seeing me naked, however, he still hadn't had enough time to recover physically. When I touched him, nothing obstructing the heat coming off our skins, he grimaced and shrugged apologetically as he remained limp. I half-smiled; in truth I was glad. I wanted to try out something on my tool belt for the first time. It was why I'd hurried the first round. For whatever reason, it worked better, and for much longer, after the target had already orgasmed once.

"I could create a potion perhaps—" he began but I cut him off.

"That would take longer than to simply wait for your rebound." I bent over to pluck my belt off the floor and quickly nudged open a pouch.

"What's that?" he asked immediately upon seeing me straighten up.

I smirked and held a white, elongated and waxy substance in my open palm. It was a little smaller than my thumb and had been compressed into a smooth, cylindrical shape with soft, blunt ends. We Sisters called it an interrogation tool of sorts, but I could also use it to hurry things up so I could get my own release.

The young battle mage was tense as I went around behind him; I heard him suck in a breath when my breasts pressed to his back and I reached one arm around to draw him close. My other hand held the suppository between thumb and middle finger, and I began to work it between his buttocks.

He jumped and tried to draw away from me. He sounded slightly panicked as I held him tighter. "What are you doing, Red Sister?"

"Providing a short cut. Trust me, you won't care in a few moments."

"No, you don't have to drug me, please—"

"Think of it as a solid version of that potion you offered to make, except that it's ready immediately and will have the same effect."

He squirmed and began working very hard to avoid having something inserted into his backside. As long as he held on tight to the rope, which he did, I considered it that he was just playing hard to get.

I would get impatient soon, though; I didn't have all the time in the Underdark.

"Callitro," I growled warningly, "You've had your release. I will have mine. It's fair."

"Please, Red Sister, it's dry and I've never...taken anything—"

"You jest."

"No. Sister, you're only my third, and the other two weren't interested in that part of me at all!" He was gasping from his efforts and his anxiety.

"Well, relax, it won't hurt as much."

"I can't, not in this position..." he continued to protest and resist.

I almost got angry and frustrated enough to just use force....except that he might be even less cooperative the next time. Right now, he was my only way into the Tower. At least a little finesse was required here, even if there wasn't enough time to do a proper job seducing him again. Besides, he'd given me an opening, a concession implying he would accept in exchange for his submission.

"I see," I said, trying to sound a little less overbearing. "Let go of the rope, then."

He did so slowly, unwinding it from his wrists and lowering his arms as though they were stiff. He rubbed at his wrists and looked at me without holding eye contact for long. I nodded toward his simple bed in the corner of the room.

"On your knees. Get comfortable, and I would try to relax if I were you. I won't be happy with you if we are interrupted again before I get what I came here for."

The battle mage nodded and obeyed, getting on all fours, although he was still tense as any virgin with his back hunched up.

I got behind him, kneeling between his legs and pressing my hand onto his lower back. "Arch your back."

He complied, self-conscious about the added exposure and easier access he'd just provided.

I tentatively touched the white insert to the tip on my tongue, intending to wet it that way, but the instant I felt a tingle I stopped, making a face. I supposed it had to be the other way; I didn't want to waste more time searching for some kind of lubricant in his rather disorganized living-and-working quarters. Not only that, but knowing my luck today, it would be some substance that would interfere with this suppository even working properly. I already knew it worked just fine with natural body fluids.

I leaned down and parted him a little more with my hands, flicking my tongue against his puckered hole. He squealed in surprise.

"Hold still!" I said from between his cheeks before continuing to lick him, using plenty of my saliva to make him wet.

"Sur-surprised me." He gasped loudly when I stiffened my oral probe and pierced him a few times. "That... feels good, Red Sister," he admitted, perhaps hoping to get on my good side again.

"It should."

I leaned back up and positioned one blunt end of the insert into the center of his ring. He tightened up by reflex but I just waited a moment until it had passed, and then pressed in with my index finger, smoothly opening him up. The salvia definitely helped.

He grunted. "It's...doing something—"

Then he yelped as I pushed not only the rest of the substance into him but half my finger as well, making sure it would stay inside his body where it could dissolve completely and enter his bloodstream. I withdrew when it felt like many tiny bubbles were fizzing around my finger.

Callitro was gripping the blankets as his breathing quickened and he trembled, looking back at me with wide eyes. Knowing more magic and alchemy than the average Drow, he was much more afraid of what had just been introduced to his system than someone blissfully ignorant. I felt sorry for him that he couldn't just relax and enjoy the ride.

I reached between his legs to caress his delicate sack, soon sliding forward to wrap my fingers around a quickly hardening cock. I stroked him, and he moaned. Excellent.

"On your back, Callitro," I cooed, and he got down and rolled over, my favorite toy jutting up proudly and ready for use in record time. I wasted no more of it; I counted myself lucky that I hadn't received a summons already.

"You will hold back your release until I say you may have it. Understand?"

"Y-yes," he gasped, and I ignored the lack of my title to save time.

I straddled my playmate and set to pierce myself on him, to get him as far inside me as possible. Even better, I knew he could squirt and line my channel with his real, delightful semen, it could be such volume as to leak out all over my thighs and his balls, and it would pose no threat to me.

I rode him energetically; oh, it was wonderful, so familiar...my first real coupling with a male since I was a Noble. I loved his cries of abandon and echoed them, the slap of our flesh and the sucking wetness harmonizing with a hard fuck. I think we got louder than I would have thought wise—the battle mage didn't care, he was barely aware of anything but the overwhelming strokes along his sex—but I didn't care to cover his mouth, either...it was exactly what I needed to ramp myself up higher each time.

*One...two....oh, Lolth, please let's go for a third...!*

Callitro's fingers were digging in hard to my hips as he started grinding his teeth loud enough that I heard it. "Please...please...it hurts..."

I leaned down, still rolling my hips along his length, hissing luridly, "Only if you suck my cunt as I sit on your face."

He nodded urgently. "Yes....yes! Anything, Sister!"

"Then squirt it all inside my hungry twat, wizard. I'm ready to drain you dry."

He yelled as he came, muscles standing out in his neck from the strain as he jerked and pulsed inside me. I barely gave him time to finish before I lifted off him and crawled up to straddle his face next so he could make good on our agreement.

Unlike when he was completely sober, he did not hesitate now to stick his tongue where he had just deposited his seed. He gripped my backside with both hands. I laughed and moaned in delight, feeling his eager tongue and lips sucking and throttling my sex. I quickly came again for that third and final time then I smeared our mixed juices farther across his face, marking him just for fun, before I climbed off.

Callitro couldn't get up; he lay naked and coated in sweat and fluid on his bed. I knew he'd be partially paralyzed for a few hours after the rush and crushing orgasm that had hit him triggered the next stage of the suppository. His head lolled from side to side, he could speak, if slowly, and he could lift his hand in a vague gesture if he really tried, but that was about it. His eyes were lazy, half-closed, and he murmured something unintelligible as I helped myself to his wash basin to clean myself up.

"W-when...?" he asked louder, only as I began quickly dressing myself.

"You'll be able to walk in a few hours," I said matter-of-factly. I knew from personal experience, after all. "Relax and enjoy it. You'll be fine."

"N-no...when might you return?"

I paused and quirked my brow. "I have no way to know. But I think that's just the drug in your system talking. You might be ready for a break from me when you come down."

He smiled lazily at me; supreme satisfaction lined his seed-smeared face. "Oh...but they were...r-right."

I simply had to finish dressing and arming myself at that point, double-checking everything before I could pause again, even though this comment sent an insistent demand through my clearing head. Now that I wasn't so damned fuck-stupid, I would take advantage yet again. The suppository was working as it should; not only so powerful that it eventually forced an orgasm, but made the paralysis following it an ideal a period of time where one might get any surprising bit of truth from the recipient.

"'They' were right about what, Callitro?"

"About Red Sisters...your hunger...is legendary..."

Silly fawning. I approached the bed, looking down at him. "Who are 'they'?"

"Elder wizzzards," he slurred, blinking blearily at me.

"And what do they know of our hunger?"

"Sisters have always used them...like you used me."

I folded my arms. "Any they enjoy it?"

"Not all. But ssome...times...any female is...welcome here. A Red Sissster... overpowering. So beautiful...strong...deadly."

I could guess I was listening to a type of heroine worship now, rather than real information. It seemed Callitro had heard from other wizards some titillating sex stories and he had wanted to try it himself. Now that he had...? Well, I'd wait until he sobered up to see that. He couldn't have heard that many *accurate* stories if he wasn't comfortable with me putting something in his ass.

Still. There was knowledge here if I asked the right question.

"Do you know of any who do not enjoy being used by a Red Sister, Callitro," I asked quietly and levelly.

He was silent for a few moments, blinked twice, and finally answered slowly, "I think so. Posssibly."

"Their names?"

"Raegel and Shyntre...Oran, perhapss..." He stopped.

"Why do you think so? Have they bedded down with one that you know?"

"I don' know. They speak ill of the Sissters...if you come up....I've argued...beffore."

It did sound promising, although I bore in mind that Callitro wouldn't necessarily come in contact with every dissenter in the Tower. Now, was my wizard the type who would vocally complain to other wizards? I thought he might be; he had too much temper to remain totally silent if someone romanticized us.

"Which levels are they on?" I asked.

"Raegel and Shyntre are just above me. Oran is two below."

Eighteen and Fifteen. Alright.

There was a sound, a small ding that drifted into the air, and then a voice just outside the door and I tensed.

"Callitro? Are you in there?"

He ignored the voice, staring glaze-eyed up at his ceiling. I went still and listened harder.

There was a second one, I heard a hand brush the door in a different spot and there was enough time a shared gesture exchange if they were communicating at all.

The first one called again, louder. "Callitro?"

My training said to remain stealthy and not give myself away; under most circumstances, that would be to my advantage. But really, what was the point here? We'd clearly been heard, more than one knew I was here, and Callitro's status would change in some way now that I'd been here.

I felt like opening the door, very suddenly, and I did not suppress the wide grin as they both blurted a curse and stumbled back from me. The speaker even stepped on his robes and fell on his backside.

I moved into the hall and backing them up further. I left the door open behind me. "I'm afraid he's not in condition for gossip quite yet. Surely you can wait."

Both wizards had enormous eyes and seemed unable to decide what to do.

"Do either of you have quarters just one up," I pointed toward the ceiling.

They glanced at each other, taking time to absorb the abrupt question, and the first shook his head in the negative. "We live here."

"Retrieve one. Bring him here."

I leaned against Callitro's entrance casually and folded my arms; clearly I was not leaving.

Another glance, then one finally found his voice. "Who?"

Why not? Catch a spider by a leg...pick any leg.

"Either Raegel or Shyntre."

I saw an interesting reaction in the second, very quiet one; it was a change in his brow and eyes that seemed one of recognition, and I focused on him, trusting the timing to be natural and not delayed. "Wait. Make it Shyntre specifically."

The second one nodded before the first one did; now I knew it was the right choice. There was a connection here, and the second wizard thought he knew a reason for my presence and my command. I was glad someone knew. Maybe this wasn't "my" wizard, but I was going to take anything I could from this.

Then again, it just might be.

"You go," I motioned to the second wizard. "Tell him Callitro said he was right and he needs to talk to him. Don't make one gesture about me. Remember I know where you reverie. And you," the first wizard frowned slightly, "stay until he returns."

After a subtle swallow, they both complied. The second wizard didn't seem too hesitant, so I could assume the story was not one he would have trouble telling.

I had the first one come into Callitro's room with me and close the door; he inhaled the scent in the room on reflex and stared open-mouthed at his level-mate's reclining, nude, and very sticky body. The young battle mage was unconscious by this point; it was the eventuality if one didn't actively work to keep them semi-aware and talking. It worked for me.

I reached to close my hand on the back of the wizard's neck and the stress just coursed through him.

"Please," he whispered.

"Just let them in when they come back, and don't touch anything but the door. I'll be standing behind you; don't give me away. Do this and I won't touch you."

He nodded.

I couldn't do much about the almost tangible tension in the air, but hopefully one could think it had more to do with Callitro supposedly confessing to the other wizard when the two of them showed up. I blew out the one candle that lit the room and stepped back into a smaller area of the room, going very still.

We waited as our eyes adjusted.

The standing wizard in the room seemed to breathe only when the soft ding sounded again, announcing someone at the door. He opened it readily. "Yes, yes, come in. He's asked for you, Shyntre."

Not bad, and nice of him to confirm the identity for me. His voice wavered, however; he'd have to work on that.

The second wizard looked around, clearly bewildered and looking for another, and I had to slip behind them just as the new arrival noticed and started to tense. 

The door shut with a dull thump and all three jumped, the two from this floor uttering curses again, moving back from me and closer to Callitro's bed. The two no-names glanced back at the body on the bed again, but the one from the floor above didn't. He stared right at me.

In that one moment I could determine he was about the right height, older than any of these three by a century if it was a cycle. His experienced, reasonably handsome face was completely still and he made no reflexive or sudden moves, but I saw the incredible spike of life energy starting in his chest and blooming in all directions. A fight or flight response. I could barely hear his heartbeat in the next moment.

I needed only one thing more to determine if it was my uniform or my face to which he had reacted so strongly.




Sufferance Ch. 06



My reflexes by this point were probably faster than almost any in this Tower and he barely had time to raise his hands as I darted forward. I snapped his wrists into my grip, rammed his hands together to shock and bruise them, and got close enough to inhale his scent near his neck.

I smiled.

"Hello, wizard," I whispered.

"I knew it," he hissed, his fingers curled in pain. 

"Out," I barked at the other two. "Now."

Their preference to stay and watch was in their first moment's hesitation, but the second moment saw them scrambling for the door, opening it only long enough to let themselves out before slamming it shut again.

"Shyntre, is it?" I asked, grinning. I still held his wrists and braced for a struggle.

He growled low and glared; I couldn't see the color of his eyes in the dark but I could detect the maturity in them and his face overall. He'd easily lived for at least a century more than me.

"So you made it," he said, glancing at my uniform. He knew what it was even if he couldn't see the color.

I was still grinning. "Must be a sour thing to swallow."

"Unlike my seed," he smirked.

"True. You'd been eating spiced mushrooms. Part of a longevity potion, perhaps? It didn't help the first time."

He tried to jerk his hands free; I proved to be stronger in a straight tug-of-war. His nostrils flared and I felt a tremor run through him, but he wasn't at all afraid.

"Easy there, Shyntre, if I can take your grudge fuck, surely you can take a jest."

"I so enjoyed every thrust, you slit."

"Good to have the moment. Now it's my turn."

At close range, a wizard doesn't have a lot of defense; though he was prepared the instant I let him go, a straight shot to his chest with the heel of my hand had him stumbling backward, his heart shocked and lungs struggling to breathe. He was lucky I hadn't broken a rib, but I'd pulled my punch.

My wizard recovered more quickly than I would have guessed, however, and he picked up something random from Callitro's floor and barely finished what I could consider a spell before hurling it at me. It was incredibly quick for a magic-user, I thought.

...*Oh, dung.*

I dropped, letting it sail over my head; when it struck the wall, bright sparks showered onto the stone floor. They all went out immediately upon landing, leaving us both blind for several moments.

All my other senses were more than ready; my ears heard the shuffle and scuff of clothing over the floor, I could feel a heat source, smell his scent so clearly. I knew he was retreating and getting closer to Callitro.

Whatever he had in mind, I didn't like it. I charged forward without my eyes, catching hold of him easily and throwing him to the ground, forcing a roll that gave me time to hook my around his throat from behind and get him into a full-body lock Jaunda had taught me. One of his hands was free, but the other was twisted at an odd angle, giving me leverage to cause him pain if I so chose. He tested the hold for a bit but quickly realized he should just preserve his energy instead as our eyes slowly began working again.

"No threat with the Sisters' famous dagger?" he wheezed snidely.

"I know I can't kill you. What would be the point?"

"You can't break my wrist, either, not without just cause."

"Don't have to break it to make it hurt."

I demonstrated, and he hissed, gritting his teeth. I kept on it until he choked out a response.

"A-alright! Point conceded." After I eased off a little, he asked, "So why are we here, then? What do you want?"

"An invitation to level eighteen."

He went still for a second but quickly got what I meant. "Well...why don't you orally service a mindflayer's shriveled peg instead, you over-sexed slit-sucker?"

"Such a sweet nature. Maybe I should talk with Raegel instead."

He stiffened again. "Why?"

"Not your concern."

"He wouldn't give you what you want, either. He blames your kind for what happened to his family."

"Sounds like the perfect candidate. And just what do you blame me for? You were the one who attacked me, not the other way around."

"I was ordered to," he said indignantly. "You know that."

"Which means you have some proclivity which they liked for that purpose. You seem easily played."

That caused a reflexive strain against my hold. "And no doubt you've learned by now...if it's going to happen anyway, you might as well enjoy it."

"Ah, we have something in common." I kept his wrist in hold but used my other to slip my fingers down his side and explore him a little.

"Fuck you," he growled.

"I'd love to. Feel free to undo your robe with your free hand."

"I'll choose not, thank you."

"Won't be a choice soon enough."

"If you mean that fake phallus your kind wears, I've already had it. You all look ridiculous wearing it, by the way."

"Always an option, I suppose, but not now. Too easy. Too much like what you would do." I nuzzled his neck, planting a light kiss, and he tried to shrug me away, tried to avoid the contact but couldn't. "Mm. Tasty."

"Nice act. I'm not so easy to roll as Callitro."

"Oh, I know. Trust me. It isn't an act. And you know very well I can force you to respond to me. And you won't care how I humiliate you when I do."

He snorted. "Won't be the first time. You're boring me, Sister."

"Now who's acting? Your body has already rebelled far too often for me to believe the words. You aren't ready to behave like Callitro. I doubt you'll ever be." I chuckled.

Oh, he was a delight, just as I'd hoped.

"You're all alike."

"There's a reason for that." I bit gently at his neck this time. "I don't need an invitation, you know. I just thought you might like to attempt a bargain. I've found you, so I'll be allowed back. Simple as that."

He was quiet a moment. "They didn't just tell you who I was?"

I paused as well.

"No."

At first I chastised myself for giving him information like that, but I tried to read his pause now after giving him a truthful answer, hoping to get something in return for the slip.

When he didn't speak, I made an educated guess, trying to probe him. "They kept their word, didn't they? Otherwise there was no point in your being invisible. I can't kill you whether you had showed your face or not. And you expected them to just give you up as soon as I made it as a Red Sister."

He stiffened but remained silent. His lack of a reply made me even more curious. It wasn't like him to suddenly seal his mouth.

"So why be invisible?"

"They ordered it."

"I don't believe you. I saw you run at the end. It mattered to you that I not see your face." I put my nose close to his neck and inhaled. "I still knew your scent and your voice, though. More than enough, as you see."

He still didn't speak, so tense in my arms. Apparently he'd run out of smart replies for the moment; something had sent him to thinking too much and he made it obvious. It was a common trait with wizards.

I considered where to go from here. We were laying on Callitro's floor, sharing body heat, our scents mixing in the dark. It had an odd intimacy to it, and I liked that things had shifted a bit more on my side, whether or not I fully understood his silence. Yet, anyway. Sure, I could try to force it out of him now, but it would all be improvisation and I could easily make a mistake that would ruin future opportunities. I didn't know enough; I was already bluffing far too much.

I supposed as long as something I'd said had surprised him, I might as well do it again. I released him, unwrapping my body from his and getting smoothly to my feet so I was standing between him and where Calllitro still lay unconscious on his bed. Shyntre actually remained on the floor for a few moments, indeed bewildered, before he quickly got to his feet as well, backing up closer to the door.

I smiled. "Until later, Shyntre."

He didn't say another word, but his face and body language still radiated resistance. He took his opportunity to leave Callitro's quarters and moved quickly, shutting the door behind him.

I waited for thirty heartbeats before I looked at the small item I had had plenty of time to filch out of his belt. A small pendant with no chain attached; sapphire, I thought by the wavelength even if I couldn't see the blue, and set in heavy platinum. It had a tiny symbol curling around the left side I'd never seen before: plain, but it looked like a sickle or a curved blade with no handle.

It was perfect for my purposes, though, and I pocketed it. I looked at Callitro, who had slept through the entire conflict without moving, and checked his breathing and his pulse. He was fine.

"Thanks for the help, sweet thing," I murmured, setting my lips lightly on his cheek and tasting our juices again. "Maybe we can do this again."

I took my leave, and as expected, Phaelous seemed to appear out of thin air at the base level as I approached the door. He was watching me with a calm expression, although he might have been smiling just slightly.

"A productive visit, young Sister?" he asked pleasantly.

"Quite," I responded, unable to suppress the smile as well as he could.

"You did not deviate from your path and you followed the rules of preservation. Thank you."

I raised an eyebrow at him. True, I had found a way around that and got Shyntre to come to me, but...

"I understand you could have interfered if I had, Phaelous." My expression implied a question, though I knew the statement was just that.

"At any time within this Tower," he confirmed with a nod. "Yes. You are... most entertaining, young Sister."

I smiled again. "Am I? Were you wishing for a turn?"

The elder Drow shook his head slowly and chuckled softly. "I am only the watcher here. I trust you'll return what you've stolen eventually?"

I sighed inwardly. So much for stealth. I nodded. "Of course. It's only a useful piece."

"That it is. I received a summons for you a candle mark ago, by the way. Please give Elder D'Shea my regards."

I nodded, both annoyed at his delaying the message, which both would get me in trouble, but appreciative that it had allowed me to find my invisible wizard at all. I also wondered of the suggested history between this wizard and my Elder. 

"Certainly."

"Good hunting, Red Sister."

******

"I am displeased that you took that side-quest to the Tower, Sirana."

"Because I am late or because I found the wizard, Elder?"

"Because you did not update me. I hate being caught off guard, Sirana, and while most can't tell, Phaelous is one who can when he told me you'd arrived. You do not make me look good when you are spontaneous."

"I apologize, Elder. But some of my best inspirations come from spontaneity."

"Yes. Kerse being your prime example."

"Actually, I consider Shyntre my new best, Elder, with a close second being Auslan."

"Duly noted."

"May I can keep the pendant for now, Elder? You would agree with why I need it, yes?"

She glanced at it now, her face unreadable and nodded, tossing it to me which I caught with one hand. I tucked it away.

"Can't stop playing with those boundaries, can you?" She was still annoyed with me.

"Would you have me behave more like Qivni or Gaelan, my Elder?"

D'Shea sighed. "That would be an impossible expectation, Sirana, and no. It's been a century since I've found one with an odd perception like my own. I'd rather preserve it. But don't take it that you can do as you wish without punishment."

I nodded. "But you are pleased with my report, Elder?"

"Very. Auslan has much potential. And I'm pleased with your self-control in touching him, however temporary that control ultimately was."

"I needed to act right then, Elder, and it proved the best opportunity."

"Then remember your message pellet next time. Truly, Sirana, we wouldn't be having this conversation at all if you'd done just that."

"I understand my mistake, Elder."

"Good. As for your penance," my Elder began to remove her robe, opening it from the front and revealing her breasts, "you'll wear the Feldeu again, and we'll coax that alternate perception to the surface."

Penance, indeed.

When we worked instead on my keeping my own perception as the dominant one through a Feldeu coupling, drawing out my endurance and practicing my control, it could be pleasant enough, though it was not something I'd even attempt with anyone else but D'Shea at this time.

When she wanted the Duergar's impulses present—not even a true personality but just an mindless string of alien emotions and reactions—I did not remember much except for the overwhelming rush. I usually had to piece it together with clues from when I became self-aware again.

I didn't enjoy being lost like that, and Lelinahdara had been present for most of those. The fact that we were doing it alone now, and it likely wouldn't result in anything different, did mean that it was my punishment for failing to keep D'Shea informed.

"Undress, Sirana."

"Yes, Elder."

"Don't hold him back this time. Let him come."

After I'd cum this time, after a prolonged but vaguely-remembered struggle, I blinked my way slowly back to myself with the Feldeu still buried in D'Shea's netherhole. She was quivering, sweating, and on her knees and elbows; I was covering her, exhausted and draped over her back. When I withdrew, her distended hole was raw and bleeding a little, and she had several scrapes and bites on her shoulders and flanks. She moaned softly, but I recognized the sound somehow as a good one.

"Now you know... the answer to those thoughts," she murmured, looking over her shoulder and letting me drink my fill of her, keeping her legs wide open. Still strong, still in control of herself in spite of her position.

I felt a clash of emotions, true polar opposites: From the pulses of the Duergar, bitter disappointment and anger that the vicious anal rape hadn't broken her, and from me, a pure blossom of respect and pride and gratitude for her. She'd just proven to me—magic-user, Elder, whatever all she was—she was still a Red Sister at her core, and knew more of my internal struggle than I had realized. From my own experience, I should have been having dwarven thoughts of murder next, of killing her if she couldn't be broken.

I didn't.

It resolved part of the struggle right then, I felt something that was too hard inside me finally break and there was only relief afterward. I could believe I might ultimately achieve freedom from the results of the Duergar rape at some point, and gain control of the Feldeu entirely.

"Yes. ...thank you, Elder."

********

Thank you again for staying with me this far. There is so much more to come!

I must go on a trip today so the next update will take a little longer, but I'll be back. Promise! :)



Sufferance Ch. 07



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 2012

The story so far heavily references both "Sisterhood" and "Subterrane" and is continued.

Please be warned this chapter contains more graphic details of gender violence than is typical.

****

Chapter 7

"Let her see you."

What? After all these months of staying hidden? My Elder had to be playing.

Yes, well, it went without saying that she was playing at something. It could send my thoughts in such circles the times when D'Shea wouldn't explain her motive; she'd only give the simplest instruction and I must find a way to carry it out. The thing of it was that while the order was simple, the results never were, and she watched every choice that I made.

"Let her see you," indeed. And then what? Talk to the pitiful merchant? Vanish again, leaving the Noble paranoid and bewildered? What next? How would I be evaluated? How would I know if I had failed or succeeded in what my Elder wanted if she wouldn't say? Did she even want anything in particular?

When I stopped chasing my tail, I would remember the value in the contrast between our field leaders. D'Shea wasn't like Rausery, and vice versa. Truly, thank Lolth for that.

Of course, Rausery would often give a reason for her order, and the selected Sister's own failure or success determined the Elder's response to her report. The results were more short-term and even tangible. It was refreshingly clear after wading through murky intrigue for months in and out of D'Shea's quarters.

I had been loaned to Rausery twice so far, as D'Shea had suggested I would be. While the Elder did give me tasks—far more direct than D'Shea's and on shorter time-circles—I was still able to observe how she directed her subordinates. 

She saw to most of the actual actions for the Sisterhood, made sure we carried out those directives handed down from the Prime or Priestess or Valsharess: assassination, theft or retrieval, patrols. She also saw to—believe it or not—efficient logistics, our taking turns gathering supplies and maintaining weapons within the cloister, because we would not use any servant to do either for us.

Rauery had made the comment that D'Shea stayed in her bath far too often playing with herself, but it was with an odd tone that I didn't understand. It wasn't pure derision; more a bit of an eye-roll, but holding a degree of amusement and...tolerance?

Unlike my Elder, she'd actually answered when I asked about it.

"We each have our roles," the general Elder said. "D'Shea is the strategist, I am the tactician. If we were in a boat, she might not see a water worm right in front of her for looking so far down the tunnel. But the water worm is my job anyway, while getting us into the positions we need to be is hers."

I took the obvious opening. "In what positions do we need to be?"

We were in one of the smaller armories cleaning weapons at the time, first because Rausery had said she wanted to make sure I had been trained right. Given how many more weapons she had cleaned, re-sighted, mended, and organized than me, I thought she just hated to be bored.

"Ask me again in seven cycles," she said. "The answer will be different."

I let a moment pass. "If the direction is constantly changing, then why bother with long-term strategy—?"

"It's just like the Houses scrabbling over a number," Rausery said in a gruff voice, raising a brow and giving me a mildly annoyed look. "You're a former Noble and formerly of the Court. You can't tell me you don't get why we have to be ready, to be on top of things all the time."

I nodded, glad for the second opening. "You're correct, Elder, I do. But are we only just reacting to what they do to keep them under control? Do they determine the pace and the direction?"

Rausery grinned broadly and surprised me with the sinister gleam in her crimson eyes, pointing one of the larger crossbow pistols at the wall and looking down the sight. "Not even close."

"The Priestesses, then?" I suggested in order to keep her talking long as possible.

"Somewhat," Rausery grunted.

"Only somewhat, Elder? The representatives of Lolth's very will?"

Rausery's smirk confirmed for me that this particular quality did not impress her overmuch. "What do you think our Valsharess does, novice? Sit on her throne all day nibbling mushroom cakes at glory parties?"

I shrugged, smiling a little. "I've barely seen her or heard her speak."

"She's Lolth's Chosen. She represents all powers down here, House, Priesthood, Sisterhood, the mages and the Tower."

"And what does she want for the Drow, Elder?"

Rausery honed an entire short sword before she answered, not looking at me but I could see she was thinking about it. When she did answer, it was one of her truthful ones meant to train me more quickly than D'Shea's more obtuse methods did at times.

She said, "To keep them uninterested in exploring the Surface."

I felt a small shock at the answer though I wasn't sure why, because the next instant I realized that she was right. While growing up I had heard stories only of warning or derision about the Surface; I knew of no caravans or trading coming this far down or ours going that far up. It was too dangerous, too alien, and too risky. Fear without appearing to be fearful; just be powerful where we were, with what we already did so well.

"You mentioned being Surface-captive once," I ventured, looking up briefly from the bow I was restringing. "The first time you had me. You said that you'd seen how I took cock and knew I could survive it. It's a risk, then?"

She half-smiled and looked at me. "D'Shea still hasn't told you. Tell her to get on it already."

I had expected something like that. I shrugged. "We've been focusing on something else lately. About the Duergar."

There wasn't any particular reaction to the mention of the grey dwarves, but she looked interested. "Really."

I smiled. "I'll trade you."

The Elder snorted. "You'll tell me if I want you to."

"Maybe not, you know how Elder D'Shea is. And you want me to know something about the Surface anyway. I'm offering, Elder."

"If you wanted to kiss my ass, novice, I'd let you without the pretty words."

I felt a flush at the thought; at least one memory involved more than kissing. "I know, Elder. And I would. But would you accept a trade anyway?"

She barely paused on that one, giving me a wry, amused smile. "I accept. You go first."

I set down the finished bow carefully and came to her, whispering very quietly in her ear. We were very close, our sides and arms touching, and I felt her right palm slide and come to rest on my thigh. 

I told her a slightly modified version of my run-in with the psionic dwarf—more focused on the fact that we had been mind-locked for a fair bit of time than on the sex— and that I still had some useful intelligence inside my brain but that it required a magic-user like the Priestess or a mage to get at it. I did not mention the Feldeu being in the equation at all.

"Interesting," she said. "So that's one of the things she'd been up to lately."

I leaned back straight again, smiling, and I felt Rausery's hand slide farther up to cup my sex as she turned suddenly to look me directly in the eyes. She gripped me harder and I had to good sense to keep my legs open to her in spite of the discomfort and paid rapt attention to her next words.

"Of course I know you're leaving something out," she said huskily. "There's a reason that information is locked and you aren't speaking Dwarvish right now."

I didn't reply but kept watching her and feeling the tips of her fingers curl up against the leather of my pants.

She continued. "But...given that it was your bargain, it's only fair."

Which meant, if I read the comment right, that she had left plenty out in anything she had ever told me. But I already knew that as well. We did understand each other. Elder Rausery was not a difficult one to work with so long as you were competent and used the head on your shoulders as she expected of you.

"Soon, Elder," I murmured just as I felt her fingers soften against my sex. "You'll know. D'Shea just wants a solution first, she hasn't found it so it's useless now."

Rausery nodded, beginning to massage me instead with her hand. "Magical research is her realm. I only use magic as a tool, which means someone else comes up with the spells."

It was similar for me. I nodded my understanding, relaxing a little more under her slow, firm touch. If she kept it up, I would be aroused. I needed to remind her while I could still think: "So what is it Elder D'Shea hasn't told me yet about the Surface?"

"Ma'ab," Rausery said brusquely, low and deep in her chest.

I blinked; I did not even understand the word. It was not a Drow word.

"Conquerors," she said, as if it lifted the black cover off of the name and gave it a full reveal. "A race that has been growing stronger on the Surface lately. They are essentially Humans although we think they are a cross-breed of some kind."

I still did not reply because I could not think why we would care. Rausery saw it in my expression and chuckled.

"They are like us, Sirana. The Ma'ab. Led by a Queen-Priestess-Mage like our Valsharess, though their strength of force is in their Men. They are often twice as large as the Women. Probably the most dangerous race on the Surface right now. Their methods rival ours in creativity, but with less control. They take few prisoners, and we have the stronger magic and longer experience."

I let the quiet gather in the room until I could form a question as she continued touching me. "And we have been watching them...why?"

"Many of the other Surface races are much more passive, or do not match the Ma'ab in brutality. They are slowly being overrun."

I felt a prick of impatience in spite of my ears feeling twice as large as I listened to her. Again, why would we care? Being overrun was what happened when a creature was too weak to defend its territory. 

I felt very thick for a moment and grasped for a reason. "Would they come down into the Underdark?"

"Perhaps, given enough time," Rausery said, although she didn't sound concerned, finally withdrawing her gloved hand and bringing it up beneath her nose to inhale my scent quietly. "They may burn themselves out long before that happens. Most Human empires sputter out before reaching even three centuries."

"If that is so, why have we been watching them?"

I could tell now that Rausery was enjoying this slow feed and I kept tenacious hold on my patience. When I didn't say anything particularly amusing, Rausery's smile relaxed and she looked more serious.

"They took one of ours, not long before you were born I believe."

"A Red Sister?" I felt a surge of outrage but kept it in check.

Rausery shook her head. "A Priestess. An ambush. They didn't know what she was but got lucky capturing her alive. I've been told she's long dead but the Ma'ab learned things from her that would have taken them centuries to discover otherwise. Their stories only call her The Dark Sorceress."

I was dumbfounded. "Priestesses go to the Surface?"

"Very occasionally. We are usually the escorts. This was a secret outing that went very badly and it was unveiled. If the Red Sisters had been there, it might not have happened. The Valsharess was not pleased."

I nodded slowly in full agreement. And this was recent history; less than a century ago. It was affecting my life directly. And none of the Houses even knew.

"Ma'ab," I tried the name on my tongue.

She nodded. "A coarse language. The trade language on the Surface is easier to learn. It has traces of Elvish roots in it."

I could reasonably think then that I would be learning it at some point; I took it as a given.

"What do we plan to do against the Ma'ab?" I asked, my mind thinking back for the first time since I'd dreamed it to the reverie vision I'd had: The dark-skinned elf silhouette standing in front of the Sun; the dagger dripping red sand before biting deep into my belly and dissolving my soul...

Rausery shook her head. "Not getting into that right now, novice, so don't try."

I closed my mouth and accepted that we'd finished the information exchange in spite of the fact that she'd just sent a huge part of my life's assumptions into a whirlpool. She and D'Shea still had that in common. At least I knew a great deal more now than I did some moments ago.

"We need to remember our roles," Rausery said, as if contemplating. "We are strongest then. A commoner isn't a Noble, a crafter isn't a mage. A Priestess isn't a Red Sister." She glanced at me with a smirk. "And a novice isn't an Elder."

Point conceded. I lowered my head and eyes a little though I still challenged her a little. "But a novice with potential and desire to learn."

The Elder chuckled and shook her head, looking at me with more heat in her eyes. "Mm-hm. This eve I'm sure you'll desire to learn more how to pleasure me with those talented lips of yours, before offering me the potential in your warm, tight holes, am I right?"

Well, yes. There was always that.

*****

Now, having been sent back to House Itlaun by D'Shea soon after my return from Rausery's service, I drifted carefully around the plantation for some time. It was my Elder's most vague mission yet. As far as I understood, I just had to catch Curgia alone and let her see me. And then....?

Better if I didn't start comparing and contrasting the two Elders' methods again. Just focus, practice my trade, and listen to inspiration and insight. I would know more after I left this area; I had trust in that, because I had trust in myself.

"If you didn't at this point, you would be following a Lead, Sirana," D'Shea had commented after quizzing me about all the solitary work.

That I had faith in myself and my abilities had been my answer to her.

I knew I didn't want to follow a Lead, not even Jaunda. Rausery had been right in her evaluation as I'd hung chained to her wall: though I could adapt, I wasn't at my best in groups.

House Itlaun had a garden with secret places deeper within clustered growth, which I had to think were included deliberately. It was not easy to find a spot that few household servants visited at least once in a cycle. It was interesting that nearly all of those places visited unveiled either trades or trysts but few actual plots; all were short-term, materialistic, and the immediate satisfaction of some flash of want.

I had decided after a few cycles that the servants here were more or less content here and this was how they played, whether they believed they were truly unobserved or not. There was a certain wisdom to the Matron allowing "secret" bargaining in a controlled area. Even domestic pets needed to scratch their claws against the something sturdy to keep them healthy and clean.

I thought about Auslan and Shyntre here and there as I waited three cycles before Curgia came into the garden alone. The Consort was just inside the plantation's residence and I'd even glimpsed him once through a partly-covered window. He was the reason I hadn't gone inside to seek Curgia: because going inside was exactly what I wanted to do.

Shyntre, on the other hand.... I was in no big hurry to return to him. Callitro had to be given time to recover and decide what he thought of our experience, and then he had to deal with what the other wizards thought of him. My returning frequently, or too soon, would make my interest in the younger wizard, and my interest in Shyntre, seem too intense, too impulsive. It would not help the Sisterhood's reputation, and I rather enjoyed the thought of Shyntre waiting a sizable stretch, wondering when I'd come after him again.

Not if. When.

He would notice he was missing his blue pendant. I'd taken to wearing it around my neck on a thread of leather long enough to slip beneath my armor and rest between my breasts. It was a nice, constant reminder.

I couldn't dream too much about the males, though, even sitting around in a garden. I was on a mission. I thought this place would be perfect in which to be seen and perhaps to disappear again. At long last, my patience paid off.

I held still when I saw Curgia go into one of the back cloisters and duck down. My ears detected the working of a small mechanism and I didn't think it was the lock of a secret door or a hatch. I was already moving forward silently, concerned I'd somehow lose track of her, when I heard her gasp in pain just before she dropped something on the soft ground.

Now I could see her form in the dark, swirls of her life's light helping her stand out from the ever-present radiation of the land. She was hunched over, her knees spread wide beneath a plainer gown bunched around her mid-thighs. The gown was far too generous for me to be able to see any tell-tale bump in her abdomen. Something cylindrical was lying in the dirt. 

She cursed Lolth and one Priestess in particular, a blasphemy amazingly similar to one I recalled using when I'd awoken in the wilderness with my insatiable hunger eating at me. I heard the despair in her voice.

She was not handling her condition well, then; she had not rebounded against the circumstances.

*Let her see you.* This seemed a good time, when she was vulnerable.

I tested myself in how quietly I could slip forward, slipping from the foliage to crouch in a squat near to her, my fingers threaded together and my stance one of a predator considering whether to pounce or not, not yet coiled to spring. My cloak and cowl broke up my outline, hid much of my own energy, and only someone looking directly at me would make out my face. My expression was placid, observing and neutral.

When Curgia sniffed and picked up the tool again, trying unsuccessfully to flick the dirt and grit from it, she sat down on one hip and I could see half of her very unhappy face. She'd shifted just enough to catch me in her peripheral vision and she reacted quickly, turning her head and wrenching herself around to see who or what was beside her.

I saw wide eyes and the searing flash of the flight response pass through her body, except she was frozen, she couldn't move. I could smell the sour pulse of fear and wondered whether she would loose her bladder as well.

"Y-you heard me, didn't you?" she whispered, her hand partially obscuring her mouth.

"Perhaps." I gestured to the tool in her hand. "What ill-begotten gnome told you that would work? You're too far along, and more likely to cause a hemorrhage you cannot stop in trying to do it yourself."

She glanced at it as if having to remember why she'd brought it, then she swallowed. I could see her body quivering. "A-are you hear to kill me?"

I tilted my head at her tone. "Do you want me to?"

She gripped the womb-scraper tighter in her hand and tendons stood out on her neck. She shook her head uncertainly before she hesitated again.

"Is that a yes or no?"

She opened her mouth but no sound came out; I was guessing she didn't really know and couldn't think well enough to answer me. In the wilderness or amongst the Sisters, she would already be dead. That didn't make me want to kill her, though, only think less of her.

"Have you thought whether the Priestess herself wants the hybrid in your belly?" I asked casually.

In revealing that I knew her secret I had to give her time to get over her shock. But not a lot. I cut her off with a gesture at the first "How did you know—?" 

She obeyed and bit off her question.

"Well?" I asked again.

Curgia blinked and took too long to answer for anyone I'd consider reliably useful, but at least she did answer simply. "No, Red Sister. I haven't thought. She...just wanted to clog up my womb with this...thing. So I couldn't be blessed by the Consort's seed before my sister."




Sufferance Ch. 07



"That's it? What next?"

Curgia shook her head. She had no idea.

"She told you something important," I prompted, handing her the figurative spider's egg sac. "Her opinion about her son."

The merchant Noble had seemed to calm some during our exchange, and she gave my words some actual thought. Perhaps it was just that I was discussing something about which she had not even been able to whisper, and in frank language, too. Practical. Non-judging. I could wonder how anything might have been different for me if I'd been able to speak of my blood sister's abuse to another set of ears. Perhaps it would have depended more on who that other was.

She shuddered after a moment of thinking, however, perhaps remembering Wilsirathon's son mounting her. She shook her head. "I don't..."

I shrugged. "Either she will take the child once it's born, or she will end the pregnancy herself. Those are her choices. She won't leave it with you regardless."

This had clearly never occurred to the pregnant Drow. She would have to become much faster on the uptake to survive her next play for status, if she attempted one. However, I finally seemed to hit the catalyst and I could see her mind working as every Drow's did eventually.

"A gift from the Abyss, half divine through her," she whispered, and I nodded when she looked up at me. "He's magical, the...sire is."

I smiled wryly. Perhaps she wasn't entirely stupid. "Very. He's power to her. Any offspring would be, too."

The rate of the Noble's mind finally started reaching normal levels; her eyes brightened considerably. "She won't let me keep it? But I wanted...her help to end it."

"She knew you would before you ever took his seed."

At last it hit her on the head. "She'll give me what she was going to do anyway, but for a price."

I couldn't help chuckling. "Good. Pull your head out of your twat much sooner next time, before trying to dig your guts out through your birth canal."

She swallowed and made no action, no expression, no comment; she clearly did not know how to take an insult from a Red Sister except in silence.

I wasn't finished. "Now think, Curgia, what she might do if you do not ask her for help at all. If you carry as if you want it and have no plans to abort it."

Curgia was still a merchant deep down. "She'll make me an offer first."

"And if you respectfully decline the first offer?"

The despair that had been framing her eyes ever since the worship ball seemed at last to begin to melt away. She nodded her understanding; she had more power and her growing fetus had more value than she had been willing to consider.

"Easy to over-extend your reach, though," I warned her. "Were I you, I would give the Priestess exactly what she wants in the end. Just get something for it. If you defy her, you'll wind up dead or worse. It's only another year at most. You'll have the Consort much longer than that, if you don't kill or make yourself infertile first."

She nodded, her brief look of fear telling me she hadn't considered possibly scarring her womb, while it had been the first thing to cross my mind. I knew well how it could be done. 

It also hadn't yet occurred to her to be suspicious of my generous advice, but it would occur to her later—that would be hers to wade through on her own. I'd already held her hand far too long down the path staring her in the face ever since she'd left Wilsirathon's presence with Kerse's wetness coating her thighs.

"Now what...do you want from me, Red Sister?" she asked hesitantly.

I hadn't considered that yet. I had acted on the desire to see the game change from the direction it plainly had been going. I wanted to add an extra loop in Wilsirathon's plans just because I could. I still didn't like Priestesses and would never think highly of their nature, Kerse's mother in particular. I couldn't respect an older Drow who shared her son with others and then would get vengeful when he enjoyed another other than her.

Strong jealousy was rarely useful, in my opinion; it was like trying to stuff Time back into a bottle. More useful to move forward with the new interest and see what could be gained in exchange for what was lost or changed. 

That Wilsirathon did not think, as far as I knew, to bargain with me on her son's interest made her weak in my eyes. No wonder Kerse had been prowling around on his own, if his only expectation for wanting someone other than his mother was to be denied and restricted further.

Nevermind of the volatile nature of demons, I already knew how most of any Drow-blood responded to that. If not for D'Shea's explicit orders against it, I might have considered playing with him. That would have been pure rebellion, shaking the dragon's nest and making obscene gestures the entire time: not smart, but undoubtedly satisfying.

"When it's time to repay me, you'll know," I said to Curgia now, smiling to show teeth.

The merchant nodded, accepting. "Whatever you wish, Red Sister, if I can grant it."

I enjoyed hearing that.

I waited until she looked away, distracted by her thoughts and the noises of the gardens and household, before stealing backward and away from her. It wasn't completely silent because she knew I was there; I just wouldn't turn my back on her while she was watching.

I was well-practiced at this point in getting out of the area unseen and slipped out in good time. I felt finished with my time here; it had been whole cycles since I'd been back to the Sisters' cloister with no summons from D'Shea.

Sometimes it felt good to choose my own time.

****

I stopped by Gaelan's quarters first, intending to get cleaned up and check my supplies before going to the stockrooms. My pallet was still here even if I often bedded down in several other places. I lit a low candle to more quickly check over my armor as I removed each piece.

I had filled a large bowl with warmed water, had disarmed, stripped, and was wiping myself down when Gaelan returned, standing at the open entrance. At a glance it looked as though she had come with a purpose, had sought me out; it wasn't our time overlapping by happenstance.

"Waiting for me?" I asked, continuing to scrub myself, dipping the thick cloth and wringing it out.

Her copper eyes trailed down me familiarly as they often did and she didn't speak at first. I tried to read her expression; all I could sense was that something specific was on her mind, and it had to do with my nudity. My ego might think that went without saying, but that didn't make me discard tension I didn't understand.

"What are you thinking?" I embraced the frank approach here; like with Jaunda, Gaelan and I had long passed the period of tap-and-dance in our conversation.

"That I'd like you to take me," she said with her arms folded, leaning against the doorway. It had a casualness that was a bit forced for how much tension rolled off her.

I smirked, feeling myself respond and thinking it a fine way to relax after the last few cycles alone in the field. My casual tone was not as forced. "If you like, Gaelan."

"I want it as I took you in the cave," she continued. "With your hips properly between my thighs."

I paused in wiping the cloth along my skin but didn't look at her. So that was it. Damn. I really should have known better.

When I didn't respond, she stepped in to slide the door closed behind her and came closer to me. Her eyes focused on my nipples, hard from the mild chill and the rubbing of the cloth, before looking up at my eyes.

"I know D'Shea initiated you," Gaelan murmured. "You've worn it now, you know what it's like. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I have reasons, and D'Shea didn't want it common knowledge yet." I gave her a look. "Have you been talking?"

Gaelan shook her head.

"How did you hear, then?"

"I didn't. I watched you. I've known something's changed over the past few weeks and the last time you awoke here with me, you stroked at a phallus that wasn't there. It was only briefly but I caught it."

I sighed inwardly; she'd also gotten me to confess without having certain knowledge of my "initiation." I knew that trick, I had even used it myself, so why had I fallen for it?

"It's been two weeks since we had some time alone," she said. "I want to lie under you, I want to feel how you fuck with it, now that you are allowed to wear it. You can borrow mine."

"Yours or D'Shea's?" I asked, mostly just to distract her.

"Mine, as of a few cycles ago. She said it's mine for the foreseeable future."

Interesting timing on D'Shea's part, I thought, awarding Gaelan with her own Feldeu for her service.

Gaelan removed her gloves and reached to slip her hand over my haunch, which was still damp from the cloth. She leaned to kiss the edge of my ear in the spot I liked, her hand sliding up to cup my breast, tweaking the nipple and making it harder. 

My desire flared in my chest and between my legs as her soft mouth moved to nibble on my neck, even as my mind told me I couldn't give her what she wanted. Not yet. I could not trust myself.

Refusal, however, would only make her wonder, make her watch more closely. And if she figured out I had some revelation I wanted to hide until the right time?

Sadly, I didn't know when the right time was.

What would happen if I tried this with Gaelan? Should I prepare her anything? It would take so much explanation...

Gaelan's hand slid down my front and my belly and her familiar fingers slipped into the folds of my sex. I let her. I wanted her; I wanted the release. But I didn't know if I could give her what she wanted. It was why I hadn't even tried to get her to remove her weapons and clothing. As long as she was still dressed, I couldn't plunder her snatch and ream it loose using all the wild rage and lust of the Duergar imprint.

I sighed and considered I might rather accept her mounting me instead, even if it was in private where no other Sister would see Gaelan was still supposedly the dominant one between us. It would be preferable to what I might do otherwise, and I so wanted the sex.

"You're ready," she whispered lustily, withdrawing her hand to remove her dagger and short sword. "Sirana, I want you to use every hole I have. Make me sore."

"I always do," I murmured, watching as her belt and gloves were quickly set to the side. She removed her Feldeu from the secure compartment in her desk and placed it atop the flat surface, walking away from it.

I did nothing but watch as she stripped, my mind fogged with desire and still not certain what I was going to do. My basest want in that moment was only to see her naked.

I received more than that. She took her hair down completely, leaving it loose, and after she was fully unclothed, the purple tips of her breasts proudly pointed out, she got down on all fours on my pallet—not on her bed—and spread for me, arching her back. She smiled back at me over her shoulder. 

Clearly submissive; clearly in heat. A new pussy I had not felt from the inside yet, and a tight, clutching backdoor that would yield to the pressure. 

I saw a slick, versatile tongue snaked out from between dark, full lips. My lungs struggled to draw in enough breath as I felt a shiver pass through me. I looked at my sorted, folded uniform; I could gather it all up and leave right now. I owed her no explanation.

Her brow drew down some at my hesitation and she reached back to run the pads of her fingers over her sex, through her white thatch, showing me some of the pink between her folds. 

"Do you need a fight first?" she asked.

I shook my head. "No."

That would definitely not be a good idea.

"Then put it on. I want to see it on you, like I wanted to see your reds." She began rubbing herself a little faster, seemingly pleased with the memory of her first time helping me dress in the reds. "I'm offering. Fuck me, Sirana, and take no demands from me."

Other than the demand of me providing the fuck in the first place.

I was breathing harder and I shifted my hips, feeling hyper-sensitive netherlips brush against my inner thighs. We both wanted me to fulfill that demand.

I looked from her oozing well of desire to the pole I would use to enter it. "I am not well-practiced, Gaelan. I could cause pain or be clumsy."

I could give her that much warning.

"So be it."

I raised a brow at the short response but she only looked impatient, still presenting her backside to me, now shifting her weight on her knees. She did not like being idle for long. Few Sisters did.

My hand shook a little as I reached for the smaller, still-so-familiar Feldeu on the desk. It did cross my mind to think what D'Shea might want me to do. She had never explicitly forbidden this. 

I could justify it. I would test my control. It would be practice.

It would feel so good. I wouldn't be frustrated. My cunt wouldn't be empty as she felt the pleasure of being filled.

I could focus on my own pleasure first; my Sister had said so.

I blinked and became aware that I had moved to my pallet; I was standing near to her head and was rubbing the bulb of the attaching end of the Feldeu against my sex, quickly slickening up the surface. I felt a magical tingle over my sensitive flesh at the contact and my channel pulsed hungrily, knowing what to expect.

Gaelan's large, copper eyes looked up expectantly, her desire clear on her face. She never looked away and at the moment I pressed more of the bulb inside, my body stretching so willingly around it, she murmured the command word that completed the connection. 

My knees weakened considerably as I felt the Feldeu seat itself fully and bond with me. I sank down on the pallet, shuddering and gasping at the even fiercer hunger that radiated from my gut, my hands holding the stiff, life-like flesh at first, but I let go after the sizzle of sensation almost hurt.

"Ohhh," Gaelan cooed, enraptured at whatever she was seeing on my face. She crawled forward to put her face in my lap and I felt her tongue flick out and caress me.

"D-don't—" I gasped, my hands shaking badly as I tried to grab her loose hair, to pull her off of me. I missed and next felt her mouth engulf my turgid rod completely.

I had no control of the sounds I was making as she worked her mouth on me; I could barely brace myself on her shoulders, digging my fingers into her flesh. I could say she was in greater practice than D'Shea, and her talent kept me helpless on my knees as I stared unseeing toward the ceiling. 

She accepted the thrusts I made with my hips, pushing deeper into her throat periodically, where it got tighter for an instant, and when she would swallow against it or gag, all I could think was, "Different." 

Nowhere else I'd ever plunged this pole felt quite like that. D'Shea had performed some brief oral, I thought, but not like this. Or if she had, I didn't remember it. Now I knew how Callitro had felt, clinging to that rope hung from the ceiling with me kneeling before him.

I was still myself, so far.

"Don't stop," I whispered.

She didn't; she continued and I came quickly, pushing the head just a little farther down her throat. A sharp cry escaped me as bright lights seemed to explode behind my eyes and I shuddered. The right side of my head began to ache suddenly; it felt like obsidian slivers being inserted at shallow angles into my brain, and I started pushing at Gaelan's shoulders.

"Stop...now," I demanded hoarsely through gritted teeth, my eyes closed tightly.

Gaelan took her mouth off me and shifted backward enough that I knew she was studying my face. Her tone was cautious and wary.

"What's wrong, Sirana?"

It was the Duergar impulses again; they were fighting to rise to the surface. I was fairly sure that was what I was feeling, though the head pain was new. It felt different this time; my first desire was not to attack, to hurt, to draw blood. I kept my eyes closed and could smell Gaelan's skin and her sex so clearly. Before, I clearly remembered a brief surge of dislike for the scent: *ChiDrowen guinelk.*

Trickster Drow in heat. Mistrust. Distaste. Hate.

Now the thought was still there, but my personal enjoyment of the scent remained. Warm. Spicy. Beautiful. 

My arousal did not change and I hadn't blacked out yet. I had just climaxed—a rather painful one, I had to admit—but I was still erect and aware of my bedmate. I was still myself while I could also feel the impulses that were still strange, still not me.

*Bentich kor...ulbar ich kor...*

I knew what that meant. She wouldn't fight me; she wouldn't attempt to dominate me. Unlike D'Shea the Elder, Gaelan was mine. I knew it. He knew it. We agreed on it. 

There was no conflict. After a few deep breaths, the pain subsided.

My eyes opened as I took Gaelan by her underarms and lifted her up. Her eyes went wide as I continued pushing her backward, but quickly she understood and scrambled to get her legs out from beneath her to sit on her backside. I was already between her legs and my knees pushed her thighs wider as my hands pressed her shoulders.

"On your back," I growled, my lust coming through with surprisingly little threat.

Gaelan obeyed, settling back with her breasts flattening against her chest a little, her hands even with her shoulders and turned palm up. They remained where they were as I kneeled upright between her open legs. I took the Feldeu in three fingers of my left hand and guided it to the slick entrance of her body, pressing inside greedily. Her mouth opened in a gasp, and I groaned as I felt the incredible warmth that surrounded me.

She didn't reach for me as I started to fuck her in earnest. Like Auslan, she was keeping her hands where I could always see them. I watched the fingers at times as they were very expressive in showing me when I'd hit the right angle or speed inside her. 

Wanting to get in deeper, I pulled her strong, toned legs up vertical so her calves rested on my shoulders. Her bottom rose slightly off the pallet and her body folded more as I leaned forward, as I braced my fists near her waist and started moving instinctively, thrusting in and out.

Oh, Lolth, the pleasure...!

It lasted a long time for me; we seemed in no hurry to finish and after I'd taken a great helping of my own pleasure, I started mimicking the techniques I had used on Gaelan before, while applying the Feldeu manually. I attempted to meld them with what I was doing now, with only mild success. It was so different.

Eventually I could focus on her face again. I could believe Gaelan was behaving now as I had been in the cave. She needed to be fucked; she didn't care about anything else; she didn't want to fight or to resist. She laid back and let me take her as I wanted, so long as I did. 

She liked what I was doing. Small climaxes rippled through her a couple times, but she was subtle about it, as if she didn't want to distract me. She never said my name, and she only murmured encouragement in wordless sounds. Her hands made the occasional affirmative gesture, silent and probably more reflex than conscious thought.

She'd grown much more slick and when I realized my thrusts had become a bit mechanical, that was when I decided I wanted her back portal. I wanted her face down and ass up. I pulled out.

"Turn over. On knees and elbows." 

Gaelan not only obliged but did so with a suppressed squeak of delight.

I slapped her haunch. "I heard that."

She chuckled.

Her crack was already wetted from our coupling thus far, and she didn't ask for any special lubricant; she remained submissive to my whim and will. I used a combination of my saliva and more of her own wetness to prepare both her ring and my phallus. I did not use my fingers on her; we had both been well-trained and I knew her netherhole yielded readily to steady, slow pressure—no pre-stretching required.




Sufferance Ch. 07



Her body was hot and the tightness purely divine as I held her shoulder with one hand, her hips with another, and opened her up with steady force. It was almost exactly as she'd taken me the first time in the cave. 

Gaelan moaned the loudest yet, deep in her chest yet her mouth slack, open and salivating a little. I wanted to get every bit inside, all the way, and to hold it there before I began thrusting. I wanted her to feel how fully she was taken.

She obliged me, holding still and waiting for me to begin pleasuring us both.

I heard the footsteps only as they stopped outside our door; we both froze though I did feel Gaelan's ring clutch at my invading shaft once, a purely unconscious response. I did not know whether Gaelan had engaged the lock or not, and neither of us wanted to be found this way: first, me wearing the Feldeu at all, and second, Gaelan's enjoyment in yielding to even the youngest Sister. It would force unwanted changes in our plans.

"Finish up and pull your pants up, you two," Jaunda's voice came through the door. "We're being called together at the candle chamber. Qivni Collected a new candidate."

I felt my cock throb once in my surprise at the news, and even Gaelan's hole seemed to quiver a little. A possible new Red Sister, this soon? It had been almost exactly a year since they had collected me.

And Jaunda wasn't barging in. I should remember the favor.

How exciting. Such possibilities, so many things changing...

Gaelan had her fist in her mouth to prevent making any noise as I pulled halfway out and sank back inside her. Jaunda was still hovering outside awaiting a reply.

"Yes, Lead," I managed, though I heard the shake in my own voice. "We'll be there."

"Yes, Lead," Gaelan gasped, shallow toothmarks visible on her knuckles.

"Two minutes, or I come in and drag you out," she said before strutting away. I could hear the enjoyment in her voice; she liked whatever mental image was in her head.

After we were alone again, I quickly realized I'd begun aching; I needed the release badly. I made a few thrusts and Gaelan tried to swallow her moans.

"Do it harder," she whispered, "please, two minutes."

She pulled my blanket toward her and stuffed it in her mouth, biting down, and one of her hands disappeared between her legs. I felt it brush my inner thigh once before settling and rubbing at her own snatch. I took that as my cue. 

My tempo steadily and quickly increased until the only sounds were the slapping of our flesh and the muffled grunts and groans from Gaelan's filled mouth. As vocal as I'd been before, I found I could hold my mouth open with no sound coming out, held fast in the build and anticipating the peak. I was fairly sure Gaelan had found hers, but that was ultimately up to her in this limited time, just as mine was up to me.

The pain in my head was less intense this time when my climax broke over me and I made one longer moan, low and gruff. I huffed something like, "Tugren," that really didn't sound like me but I didn't care; Gaelan's netherhole still clutched tightly, coaxing a few more shudders from me as I came down.

My roommate moved forward to hasten the disconnect, and I felt the Feldeu essentially squeezed out as we parted, both of us gasping. I couldn't help but want a glimpse of my partner's anus after I'd used it in such a way, and I felt a strange glee in seeing—even briefly—the way it gaped open and winked repeatedly to close back up. I also noticed just how much fluid coated Gaelan's inner thighs; clear and glossy, even a little stringy where a thread hung from her pussy to her thigh.

I felt such satisfaction and pride. She would no doubt want to do this again sometime.

"Ularantha," Gaelan chanted with elegance, and I gasped in shock as I felt the Feldeu disconnect inside me. My fellow Sister waved her hand in front of my face before reaching for the magical phallus with one hand. "Sirana, come on, take it out. We've got thirty seconds."

I nodded, repeating in my head the word I'd just heard as we both eased the bulb out of my sex, finally detaching the phallus completely. Gaelan moved very quickly, hurrying over to where my bath had been interrupted and began washing herself up. I joined her, finally able to feel the same urgency.

The washing was barely more than a wiping down, though better than nothing, and we scrambled to get back into our uniforms. We were still dressing when Jaunda actually unlocked the door (I was surprised she could do that from the outside) and stepped inside with a big smirk on her face.

"Come on, sweetlips, time to go," she said, already in full uniform, crossing her arms over her chest. I glimpsed Lawret and Berayla peeking in as well.

"Yes, Lead," Gaelan replied, her movement never faltering. She finished before me and started moving forward to join the others.

I followed them, of course, but before I did—when they'd all turned their back on me, when they were all around the corner before I'd even finished cinching my belt—I decided to don my cloak next. 

Then I picked up Gaelan's hastily-cleaned Feldeu and tucked it at the small of my back.

I will probably never fully understand why I did that.

****

The one Collected was Jael Aurenthietti.

I recognized the same chamber to which I had been brought, recognized the circle of candles though strained some to see inside it now from the dark, elevated place where many of us watched.

She was naked, beautiful, and bristling. It seemed she had put up more of a fight in being Collected; I saw her moving a little stiffly, rubbing a shoulder as if it was sore, saw a few scrapes and bumps on her body. I didn't see her clothing; it had already been taken away, or perhaps it had been forcibly removed. I'd come in too late to see. Unlike most times I'd spied on her, her hair was down; it was cut shorter than mine, hanging full and pure white, resting at her shoulder blades.

Rausery spoke with her this time, not D'Shea, as it had been with me. She was still flanked by Qivni, but also Panagan from my previous lessons. Rausery required a different stance of her candidate than D'Shea had as well, and I almost laughed: Jael was required to stand on one foot and keep her back straight and chin up.

I remembered bending over to grip my ankles or kneeling on the floor, and it had been revealing and vulnerable; not immediately to my taste but I could deal with it. Jael's stance was perhaps not intended quite as blatant submission, but a little humiliating hearing the command, and over time would be a test of physical endurance.

She would be hurting before long, unless she knew how to breathe slowly and concentrate. From the looks of it, she had never concentrated on staying still and balanced in her short lifetime.

We watched Jael after Rausery and her escorts left her alone in the chamber; she did not try to cheat in standing on one foot, but did lose her balance a few times and needed to reset herself. She remained within the garnet diamond and looked around constantly as if expecting to be attacked.

*Different from you,* Jaunda gestured with her hands from beside me. *You took cues from D'Shea. The Court spoke through you both. Aurenthietti is not Court and might as well be in the wilderness now. She expects only to fight and be threatened.*

Jaunda was right; this was exactly how the initiate responded to the first challenge, which was still a lusty Draegloth. It was not Kerse but a different one; I could tell them apart mostly in the way he moved and the fact that I knew the one hideous face quite well. Otherwise, the size and shape and coloring were very similar. 

This Draegloth was as single-minded as mine had been; the fight began with Jael striking him first in a well-aimed punch across the face. She stepped out of the diamond with far less deliberation than I had; she was dodging retribution before she even knew that he probably couldn't reach her inside that diamond.

But now she was outside, and the beast attacked immediately.

Jael fought furiously, and it became apparent to anyone with eyes that she despised the creature...but more importantly, it was as if she had fought one before. Her goal, I wagered, was to wear down and injure the Draegloth enough to make it decide she wasn't worth the effort. She had the speed, skill, and endurance.

Her disadvantage was that she had no weapon with which to truly threaten his life, and thus this Draegloth probably feared failing his mother more than he feared a beating by Jael. This was a good thing for our little initiate; if she'd had a weapon, I could believe that she would have killed him, damn the consequences. Then she would no longer be an initiate, but a sacrifice for the Priestesses.

I glanced over at D'Shea and saw her watching the fight with intense concentration; I wondered what she was thinking right then.

Eventually Jael did succumb to exhaustion and the Draegloth got a good hold on her, pressing her belly-down on the smooth, polished floor. Though he could have ripped his claws into her and paid back every injury she'd given him, he didn't; he merely forced open her legs wide, lifted her hips with one wide hand against her abdomen, and—with Jael stiffening and yelling her protests—managed to couple with her. He pulled out before climaxing as well, spraying his seed all over her back and quickly moving back. 

He looked much more tired and worse off than Kerse had; he hissed at Jael and starting moving toward the candles, choosing his own moment to leave and not needing to be told. Jael had gotten to her feet again before the Draegloth had even disappeared. She clearly wanted to attack him again, her face boiled in rage, but she was too exhausted to follow through on the desire.

The contrast fascinated me. I had conserved my energy and come to my conclusions about the Priestess's son during and after the mating—which had been more or less been consensual. As it turned out, it helped whet my appetite and allow for the lengthy endurance I'd needed to make the second trial with the two male Drow go in my favor as well. Until the end, at least.

But now, Jael's reserves were depleted. How would she handle the next challenge?

Rausery came out and spoke with her again, but briefly.

"Don't like Draegloth, eh?" she chuckled.

Jael pursed her lips and spoke grudgingly. "Depraved abominations, Red Sister."

Rausery quirked one brow up, amused. "I suppose waking up to find one squatting on your bed a few times makes it seem that way."

Jael looked surprised and not at all pleased that Rausery apparently knew about her past. However, while she was a scrapper at heart, she wasn't stupid. She simply agreed with Rausery.

Now I wanted to know that full story, of course, but they didn't go further into it. Apparently it would have to wait. Perhaps D'Shea would tell me.

When Rausery left after telling her to expect a few new companions, Jael was standing on one foot again. She shook and shivered more, her netherlips puffy from the forced activity but not particularly wet. The Draegloth semen still dotted and trickled down her back to the lovely swell of her ass.

When I drew my attention back to the Sisters around me, I was not surprised to smell stronger scents, or to feel greater heat on the skin of my face beyond that of the candles. Several of us were wondering, perhaps, whether she would make it, and if she did, what we might do with her when our turn to test her came.

I was also glad I did not know any of this going in. Now I knew they had been watching me the same way, thinking the same things I was now. I realized now that the trials had been easier not knowing their purpose.

Jael handled the challenge with the two male Drow surprisingly well. She knew she was injured and did not have the energy to fight them both so she did not try. Instead, she took up the fully-visible wizard in her arms and kissed him before biting his lip, and the three began physically wrestling before having some very rough sex.

She knew it was not intended to pay her any respect, and she would attempt to physically repay them as they commented on the "demon seed" streaking her back, making her taste some from a finger before, predictably, she bit it. However, as I had seen before, she seemed to enjoy the struggle, and being overpowered by the two male Drow was more acceptable to her than the same by the half-breed.

After they had each used her once, leaving both of the holes between her legs dripping, she challenged them loudly: "Is that all? Shriveled and tired already?"

It was loud enough that I knew Jael was speaking to Rausery as well.

I glimpsed D'Shea's hands moving, her message meant for Rausery: *Two more?*

Rausery nodded.

Jael was not quite as defiant dealing with four males, the first two having plenty of time to recover as our initiate was kept busy with a fresh pair. All fighters, I realized after a time. No wizards.

My ears and chest burned a little at the lurid comments and insults they threw at her, more than Shyntre and the soldier had done to me—by comparison, we'd been having a polite, social conversation. But she just threw insults right back at them as she fought and fucked, struggled and sucked.

It became hard to tell if she was truly outraged...or if she was playing, laughing at them, if she really liked it that rough. I didn't understand it completely; I didn't tend to invite more action and injury upon myself to which I could only react. I preferred to out-think and direct it, if possible. 

Sometimes all I could do was react, of course; my first two months with the Red Sisters was the prime example. But I would never choose to do as Jael was doing. She was asking for more, and didn't seem to have any plan beyond showing how much insult and abuse she could take and keep her prideful sneer on her face.

Given the differing status of our Houses and our places in society...perhaps this made sense.

Ultimately six male fighting Drow total were called in to handle the spitfire, changing out and not giving Jael the opportunity to rest. She had to be sore; she was certainly filthy, her hair tangled and matted, her whole body sticky. Yet even after six "regular" males, she did not look quite as tested as she had been with that single Draegloth.

The soft spot in the fruit, I presumed.

I thought I heard a soft exhalation from D'Shea and she gestured, "The Draegloth.*

Rausery nodded. *How many Sisters do we take with us?*

D'Shea shook her head. *They allow our five best into the Sanctuary, no more.*

The other Elder agreed. *Unfortunate that all cannot watch like last time.*

Given how clearly I could read their hands, I knew they weren't trying to hide their discussion from the other Sisters; they were only trying to hide it from Jael and not reveal our presence.

Rausery held her hand up to gain the Sisters' attention and she made the unique gesture for five names: *Qivni, Jaunda, Agalia, Cloyan, Illunn.*

All team Leads. Interesting. Would the rest of the teams just be taking the down time as we waited to hear whether Jael would make it to the next test? I didn't think so; it would not leave us headless, exactly. I understood why they wanted the higher ranking Sisters to see any grit in the new recruit firsthand but also felt some regret that I would not be one to witness Jael being pushed to her limits. It would have answered some of my questions simply watching her...

Oh well. If she made it, then I would have my time to find out what had happened.

After the males were sent away and the Leads collected a teetering Aurenthietti off the ground—she could barely walk on her own—and the smaller group along with our Elders vanished. The rest of us had been left with basic instructions: continue on current projects or, if in-between assignments, see to the supplies, weapons, and stockrooms. 

I'll admit I considered whether visiting the wizard's Tower would count as a "current project" but still wondered if it was too early. My hesitation told me in any regard that I felt distracted and not on my game. I was thinking much about Curgia, Auslan, and Jael. I was working out my report that I'd eventually have to give, and realized I really had to think about what a new Red Sister might mean to me and Gaelan, if Jael passed the tests.

It would not be a good idea to visit the Tower today. I had too much else to plan, I was too distracted.

I welcomed the physical work of restocking, resupplying, organizing and mending weapons as I had many times before. It gave me time to think—at least up until the moment I could run into a Sister looking for entertainment. Then I had to decide if I would fight or accept. This time, I would fight if solicited; I had too much thinking to do and had already mounted Gaelan to my satisfaction anyway.

After some quiet time working and passing random Sisters doing the same, I was indeed solicited, although it did not feel opportunistic but sought out. I looked up to see Panagan standing in the doorway to one of the pantries. I was unloading prepared journey food and a collection of smaller pouches, preparing to measure cycle and half-cycle servings that Sisters could easily carry on their belts or in packs.

This Red Sister had not gone out of her way to harass me ever since our fight under Rausery's watch, where I'd forced a soiled Feldeu into her mouth. She usually watched me with a cold, unreadable expression if I passed by, while Moria might scowl but made it clear she would not act unless someone else did first. 

There were a few others on their team, the ones who did their best to break me during my time of initiation alongside Panagan and Moria. I certainly knew their names—Yenneu, Laka, Kinsel, and Zursa—but other than making a suggestive gesture now and then or making a motion to pinch my bottom as I passed, they seemed to have moved on from our encounter.

There was a reason for it, I knew. I'd built enough reputation fighting off Panagan and Moria themselves, plus a few others that I'd put into sleep using my new tricks, and several had also had a chance to watch me sparring with Jaunda. To all our satisfaction, the other four just shrugged, considered me "trained," and didn't pay much attention to me beyond a happy hoot whenever Jaunda would pin me. To some, I was still considered Jaunda's current playmate, which held some weight as well.

Panagan watched me whenever I was around, and I did not know whether it was plotting or just observing. She still had some interest in me, though, and now she stood at the pantry door with intent; perhaps I would find out what the interest was.

"Are you going to supervise or help?" I asked dryly.

She didn't pause long before stepping forward to take a spare measuring cup from the wall, a few pouches, and straddle the bench on which I say, facing me and within reach to scoop into the large bag of journey mix. We prepared a few pouches in silence as I wondered whether to wait her out or think of something to say.

The older Sister watched me with some intensity as we finished half the bag in silence, the soft rattle of dried meat, fish, mushrooms, mosses, lichens, and roasted Underdark nuts. Very nutritious for us and with a long shelf-life, if a little bland compared to the specialty foods of the City.

"Rausery wants this one," Panagan said quietly.

I raised one brow that this was what she would choose to say first: a blatant desire mixed with a veiled threat. It certainly didn't leave much to my imagination. Still I sighed, "What are you talking about?"

"Aurenthietti," she said firmly. "The last two have been D'Shea's. This one's Rausery's."

A good thing D'Shea, Gaelan, and I all agreed on that.

I stopped scooping and rested an elbow on my thigh, giving her an amused look. "And you're telling me this because...?"




Sufferance Ch. 07



"You might want to stay out of my way during the hunt." I had to admit she had an excellent thousand-yard stare, her red eyes trying to stick any nerves I might have as if with needles.

I allowed a slight frown. The hunt. That was one area where I didn't have much detail. If I had known Jael would be Collected so soon, I would have asked before now.

"Is she certain to come through of useful mind, then?" I asked.

Panagan shook her head. "I do not know. Rausery hasn't returned. But when she does, you and I may be sent out to watch for her."

I gave that some thought. Why the two of us? "No more than that?"

"Of course not," Panagan said with some irritation. "The least experienced of each Elder always goes on the hunt, whoever that may be. The one who catches her gives her to that Elder. Didn't you listen?"

I did feel surprise but hid it with determination and a smirk on my lips. I knew perfectly well no one had ever told me that; Panagan was only assuming D'Shea would have told me by now. I shrugged. "I hadn't realized you were least experienced, Panagan. Moria seems far less experienced than you."

"She went on the hunt for you," the other Sister bit out. "She couldn't keep up with Gaelan."

"Which means..." I thought a moment. "Now Moria's been on one more hunt than you?"

"Only because another initiate died in the wilderness, the one before you, before I had traveled more than a quarter cycle."

"We count and compare it in marks on a candle, then?"

Panagan frowned at my playful grin. "I caught Moria in less than a cycle. Gaelan caught you after nearly two. Moria was out hunting for longer than me and learned enough to convince Rausery I was the lesser experienced, regardless of my rank above her and actually catching someone."

"So forthright," I commented, although now my previous planning began rapidly to shift.

I would be going after Jael? It could be so exciting that I wondered whether I would have it in me to "let" Panagan win and have Jael go to Rausery as we planned. Wouldn't I love to catch and drag Jael somewhere private where I could have my way with her first of all Sisters...?

*Ohhh yes...*

Then I sighed inwardly. I could fantasize but, sadly, Panagan had to win this round.

I lifted my head and grinned. "Thank you for the warning. I'll remember it as I picture you eating a filth-stained Feldeu."

That got the reaction I wanted and she clearly didn't expect me to take her warning to heart over which side should get Jael.

"Perhaps we'll have time for a re-match out there," she hissed, teeth bared. "It's far out. They'll drop her the same place they did you."

I winked. "We won't if you want to catch Jael before me. I'm much more interested in her adorable ass, though I'll grant the asymmetry in yours would be improved with matching cane marks."

I witnessed a moment of conflict as Panagan considered throwing something at me—the scoop of food, her fist, a blade—but after her hand squeezed the Abyss out of her scoop, she consciously relaxed it and breathed out, regaining control of herself.

Very good. I was mildly impressed.

She narrowed her eyes at me and shook her head once. "You are a trickster like D'Shea."

I didn't respond beyond a brief waggle of my eyebrows, my smile now a smirk as I continued my work. Panagan decided to leave after that so I couldn't bait her anymore, though I somewhat regretted that making her believe I'd try to get Jael before her precluded any other information I might have gleaned about how the hunt was supposed to work. I would have to ask D'Shea outright if I could.

As I worked on various tasks, however, I noticed I was becoming more preoccupied and more anxious somehow. I couldn't think it was the upcoming hunt or any intimidation from my talk with Panagan, but yet that was what I thought about, constantly. Something specific that she'd said... but I didn't know what. I was so deep in thought that I actually bumped into Berayla once, my hand accidently brushing her backside. She giggled and leaned to kiss me as she moved on to her own project.

"Wake up, sweetlips," she said, "unless you really mean it."

Wake up, indeed. What condition would Jael be in if she woke up in the same chamber that I had? Not filled with divine lust, I'd wager, but tried somehow else. Would she search around the cavern, and would she find a blade from her former House, as I had? She would have to take the same path out, would be heading in the same direction....

And something about that fact was bothering me deeply.

I paced longer and the itch at the back of my head wouldn't go away. When I leaned against the wall to let another with a large load pass by me, I felt the firmness of Gaelan's Feldeu press into the small of my back, remembering it was even there.

I wondered then whether I could secretly stroke myself to orgasm, to relax, to get this inexplicable tension to go away. I didn't need a pussy, did I? Not with it being so sensitive to the touch, I could bring myself up to my own peak.

It might not be a good idea, though; it wasn't mine, I'd taken it, and she'd discover it missing sooner or later. Perhaps I should return it now before she missed it; I did not know what I intended to gain from taking it anyway. It wasn't like me.

But I knew how to put it on, I knew how to remove it. I could try it once.

*Do it....do it....* My hand flexed and I pushed myself off the wall, walking farther away from Gaelan's quarters.

After a bit of searching on the outskirts of the cloister, I found a small, unused closet that went deep, only partly filled with boxes and a few crates. Plenty to sit on. I tested the lock, found it non-functional from the outside, and non-existent from the inside. The door actually swung inward; it didn't slide. Definitely an old style and I put a crate or two to block the door while I knew that I couldn't be locked in.

I hurried to set myself up, knowing I shouldn't take long, and chose a crate of a good height upon which to sit. I removed Gaelan's Feldeu from beneath my cloak and shifted my belt up so I could pulled down my leather pants to my knees. I sat on the edge of the crate with my feet planted wide as I could and stroked my sex with my fingers first, testing the wetness. It was still plentiful, some leftover from the afterglow with Gaelan, and my anticipation now had only helped.

Slowly I inserted the dildo into my channel and murmured the word I'd heard Gaelan use many times, gasping as the magic came alive and the phallus became more turgid and attached itself to me. My hand stroked once up and down on it and I bit back a groan as my eyes fluttered.

Oh, this would not take long at all...

My choice of fantasy to fuel my lust was Jael. Hunting her, capturing her. What would I do if I did win the hunt...?

I rubbed the phallus like a resilient pet, speeding up and slowing down, drawing it out into three separate peaks, until I was gasping and wondering how I could keep this one permanently in spite of the headache it seemed to cause. The one I used with D'Shea was larger and more unwieldy; it didn't seem to fit me, and all I remembered of it now was that feeling of uncontrolled rage.

This one...it had been used on me as my first, I had sucked it first, I knew it very well. Now it knew me....

If I were to look for Jael, where would she be? Where would I look for her? It had been just about a year since I'd been in that cavern next to the pool, since I'd climbed out and traveled that path...since I had found the Duergar tapping the stone for gems.

It had been an annual location, and others habitually followed him. He hadn't been solely looking for gems but testing rock and soil for threads of an element the Duergar used to enhance psionic weapons... Very rare, only used by those gifted with psionics, only found by those with the same gift. Unfortunately it tended to be closer to where Drowen magic permeated the rock, we didn't know why, and we had to get closer than we liked to their territory to find what we sought....

It was tradition. Every year we had to try. The regularity, the ritual was beneficial to the eternal work. If a psion did not return, we would try that area again the next year. We always came back. No area was abandoned without good reason. It was too important to the forges, to our survival in the Underdark. The found-spot last year had been promising...rich in the element...

"U-ularantha...!" I gasped, blurted out a short scream as I pulled the Feldeu out of me and shook from the intense sensation; pain, pleasure, I did not understand what else but it was too much and I couldn't hold myself upright. I fell from the crate and landed on the stone ground, my leather pants still around my knees and the wet Feldeu clutched in my left hand. I couldn't stop shaking for what seemed many minutes, as I slowly caught my breath.

I thought about what had just happened, that seamless immersion where the impulses had actually formed some sort of reason. And a voice. It had been mine and yet there was no way I had been talking as I was thinking. I hadn't known any of that knowledge before...

Now I knew what had been bothering me. It had been a year, just about, and the psion had not come back. They would be in the area. And Jael, if she made it past her final trial, would be dropped in the same place, naked, bleeding, and vulnerable.

Her intended Elders had no idea. Even if there were only two Duergar, if even one was a psion...it would not be a challenge any weakened initiate could be expected to survive. Even I'd made too many stupid mistakes and I hadn't been as injured as Jael had been the last I'd seen her. I'd just gotten lucky to claim the first strike afterward...

Would the Elders choose a different place if they knew this, to give her a more realistic chance to be tested and succeed? They might; D'Shea and Rausery both wanted...needed... new Red Sisters.

I always carried a cloth or two in my pouch, it seemed I always needed one, and I used one to quickly wipe myself and the Feldeu off before pulling up my pants and resettling everything in its proper place. I shoved the crates out of the way of the door and left quickly, not sure how I might get a message to the Elders but I had to try.

My legs felt soft and my senses a bit dulled as my head kept buzzing. I was single-minded, thinking Jaunda could get a message to D'Shea that I needed to see her...but then I remembered that Jaunda had gone with her. So had Cloyan. And Agalia. Any of the Leads I might be able to work with, not in the cloister. I could not trust anyone else.

I had to wait until they returned.

The thought of that agonizing wait almost sent me to Gaelan or one of Jaunda's team; I wanted to fight, to work out the stress. They could even fuck me if they wanted...

...no, wait, I still had Gaelan's Feldeu. I would have to put it back, or explain that. I wanted to do neither.

I settled on exercising more than a few of the lizards mounts in a covered arena and tending to their tackle.

****

Jaunda was the first of them that I saw an interminable ten marks later, more than a cycle since I'd seen Jael taken away. I practically jumped in front of my Lead to gain her attention.

"Did she make it?" I asked before she even had a chance to draw breath.

Jaunda helped herself to a hearty laugh. "Well, well. A little eager, are we?"

"Yes," I said flatly. "I have an important report for D'Shea. Or even Rausery. It doesn't matter, but I need to see them."

Jaunda tilted her head. "Regarding the initiate or a mission?"

"Both," I answered truthfully. Come to think of it, I still hadn't reported on my meeting with Curgia in the garden.

The Lead looked me over thoughtfully. "Don't normally see you vibrating like this. Must be something exciting."

"You could say that. Jaunda," I said, "Come, tell me. You'll be the first I tell after the Elders hear it if you get me to their ears, agreed?"

The strong warrior shrugged with one shoulder. "I always hear what I need to. How about another spar instead? This time of my choosing."

At first I thought that offer was a step down; she would rather have a fuck over valuable information? "What do you mean, your choosing?"

"A test you need anyway," she said lightly. "Cross-terrain. You try to reach a given point before I catch you. *When* I catch you, you play until you're as raw as the first time I saw you with Gaelan."

"And if I reach the point first instead?" I asked cautiously.

"I don't touch you. For that cycle, anyway."

I stared at her. "You want a hunt."

Jaunda grinned. "Call it envy. You're about to go on one. It's been decades for me. I wouldn't mind some nostalgia."

I almost did a double-take. "Then Jael withstood the final test."

"Oh, no," Jaunda laughed, "she broke. But she stood back up again, like you did. That's what counts." She looked me over once, and I thought she was imagining something lurid rather than considering our deal, but she surprised me. "I can get you to Rausery quickly, but I don't know where D'Shea is right now. A hunt in exchange for Rausery's ears. Yes or no, sweetlips?"

I knew very well that it had been my obvious desire and single-mindedness that led to this proposed bargain in the first place. Perhaps if I'd been more subtle, I could have gotten what I wanted without a blatant trade. It could be worse, though. Jaunda just wanted to play, and it was good that she still thought me interesting enough to play with her. It would be an interesting challenge. I would learn a lot.

"Yes," I answered. "Take me to Rausery, and you can hunt me one time, when we're both available. I'll give it my all."

Jaunda nodded. "You'd better. Follow me."

She took me to the altar room where the Sisters had gathered before, to be debriefed on facing the invading Illithids and their thralls. Rausery was there talking with Qivni. Unlike before, there were no maps or objects spread around the altar, though I did notice a chalk drawing traced in a deliberate and complicated design on the floor a few paces from them. They both went silent as we entered.

I was finally able to observe Qivni and Jaunda in the same room; both were fiercely loyal to their respective Elders and held a great deal of power and sway. Qivni didn't have as much sense of humor, though, and when she saw Jaunda first, she looked wary and suspicious while Jaunda appeared to be going for an oh-so-pleasant stroll in her favorite sex room. Then Qivni noticed me, and her expression went from wary to a full frown of annoyance, which made me smile. Jaunda noticed that and winked at me, making only a courteous attempt to suppress the smile on her lips.

I was too late to notice anything of interest in Rausery's expression; she seemed to be only waiting for the hackles to lower and for us to sort ourselves out before wasting any of her time. Lolth forbid we require a reminder on how to behave in matters of business.

"Yes, Jaunda?" Rausery said calmly, even a little quietly; she seemed to have a lot on her mind.

"Sirana has information you need about Jael," Jaunda said simply and stepped slightly to the side so I wasn't directly behind her and the Elder could see me head to toe.

Rausery and Qivni both raised eyebrows and looked at me expectantly. I tried not to squirm under the Elder's gaze; it wouldn't help my teasing campaign against Qivni.

"May I approach to tell only you, Elder?" I asked. "Jaunda doesn't even know. It's...delicate information."

Rausery looked at Jaunda, who nodded affirmation. "I never asked, Elder, but believe she isn't wasting your time."

That was good enough for her, it seemed. "Qivni, Jaunda, both of you wait just outside the door. I'll call you back in."

Once we were alone in the spacious altar room, the Elder looked at me expectantly. It was different from when I'd been with her as an assistant for a cycle or two; she had been playful to a degree, but now just seemed to want that report and then move on from there. She betrayed no impatience, however, just an unspoken order to get on with it.

I got closer to her to speak very softly, as I had recently in the weapons room. She allowed it, and I caught her inhaling softly. She smelled pretty good, too—musky and warm with that hint of spicy sweat—she'd been active in some fashion recently, but I didn't know if it had anything to do with Jael's final trial or not.

"You remember what I told you about the Duergar and me, Elder?"

She nodded.

"Some of the...imprint broke through when Panagan mentioned that Jael Aurenthietti would be dropped in the same place I was. That was where I met the Duergar. I sensed...I remembered, in a way, that they'll be back in that area again at this time of year."

The Elder gave me a skeptical look. "You jest."

"No, Elder."

"Why does the time of year matter?" she asked frankly.

"I don't know," I admitted. That detail hadn't surfaced. "But it does. Has she been taken there already?"

She nodded in the affirmative.

"Has that place been used before, besides me?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Only recently found. We needed some place you'd have a chance to wake up from your divine coma before something larger found you. Given that it was nearly three full cycles before the Sisters finally hauled you in, I estimated you were unconscious for the better part of a cycle."

No wonder I had been so cold and stiff.

"And Aurenthietti? Was she unconscious when you left her?"

Again, Rauery nodded a yes. "She was injured badly enough after her trials that she'd have bled out in a few hours. It was only that she finished her test before that happened that we allowed a draught to stop the internal bleeding, but she's weak. We thought the same place would give her some time to rest."

I shook my head. "It's not safe there, Elder. I know it."

Again that skeptical look. "And you're sure this is the Duergar's knowledge in your head?"

I nodded earnestly and the Elder was quiet for several moments.

"We can't restart this final part, Sirana. No one is to be retrieved before reaching the outskirts of the City on their own. Some have died trying, that's the way it is. We only want the most resourceful ones."

*Or the luckiest,* I thought. "But you wouldn't have put her somewhere that would be known to have Duergar in the first place," I argued. "Isn't that correct, Elder?"

She breathed out slowly. "We can't know everything in a chosen area, that's part of the test."

"But we know this now," I insisted. "There will be more of them this time, because I killed the one that was scouting the area last year. That's what they do. Would you have chosen that place knowing that? I'd think not."

She gave me a hard look, and I realized my tone had been snide. "...Elder Rausery, pardon me."

"I'll call back a punishment for that disrespect," she replied. "But not right now." She watched my anxious face for a few moments. "What would you suggest, novice?"

"If she can't be retrieved and replaced in another location, Elder...then send me to hunt the Duergar instead," I said. "I'll take care of the problem and she can continue on her own."

"By yourself," she said with a huff of a laugh. "If there's even one psionic like the last one you ran into, and I'm guessing there will be if they're missing one of some power, then you'll either die or be captured, Sirana."

"I'll gladly work with a team, Elder," I said with a desperate note creeping into my voice. I didn't know why I wanted this so much but it felt like time was running out. "We'd have an advantage, and the element of surprise. I can talk to D'Shea—"

This was where Rausery seemed to accept that there was a bit of urgency. If she didn't work something out with me now, then she would have to negotiate with D'Shea, which would take even longer. I thought that she understood neither of us wanted that. I wanted to use that fact that Ruasery was more action-oriented and would get things done right now. As well, the fact that she actually had this knowledge before my own Elder was something she wanted to use; she just didn't have a lot of time to contemplate the how of it.




Sufferance Ch. 07



D'Shea was going to be angry with me but I didn't care. My mind still seemed to be quivering from my time in the store room, and I had to find the Duergar since I knew where they'd be. Jael wouldn't survive for long in that place; it was an unrealistic test.

"You'll work with Panagan," Rausery said finally. "We'll start the hunt early. I can send you both to within a klick of where we dropped her. You'll take care of any grey dwarves that threaten the recruit but she's still not to be captured by you until she reaches the sentry point of the City. Nor is she to be guided. Understand?"

I nodded agreement. It wasn't ideal with Panagan being my only back-up, but... "I understand, Elder. I'll do it."

Rausery called the two Leads back in and instructed Qivni to retrieve Panagan immediately. "Tell her to bring her bow."

I looked at Jaunda, who casually folded her arms and took a comfortable stance, making it apparent that she intended to stay near me. Rausery let her, and I wondered at that. I watched my Lead for gestures, if she needed to ask me any silent questions, but she made none.

It did not take long for Qivni and Panagan to enter. The younger Sister went straight to her Elder at a gesture, while Qivni actually got in my face.

"Whatever you're up to," she murmured with narrowed eyes, "let me make this clear: Sisters do not kill each other, or let each other die on a mission, and that's what a hunt is. The Nobles and the armies do that. We don't. Understand?"

"So long as Panagan does," I replied, feeling impatient with the threat. That hadn't even been on my mind. "It's up to her."

That was when I realized Rausery had just finished instructing Panagan about something in sign langauge, and I'd missed it thanks to Qivni. That was fully intentional, I knew. Good back-up. I glanced at Jaunda, who was staring intently at Rausery and ignoring Qivni, but from the way she was leaning I knew she didn't have a good view of Rausery's hands. The Elder soon gave her attention over to D'Shea's Lead, however.

"Tell D'Shea I thought it absolutely necessary to send Panagan and Sirana early on their hunt. If she wishes to discuss it, she knows where to find me."

Jaunda smirked and nodded. "Yes, Elder."

"You two will leave now," Rausery told us, pulling out a small, abstract object which she set inside the chalk design on the floor. "Stand next to that."

After we'd obeyed her, each of us glancing at the other, she continued, "Make sure the recruit lives past the initial threat but do not claim her, or otherwise guide her, until she reaches the sentry point. *If* she does. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Elder," we answered.

"I look forward to the reports."

It was a little different from the portal that I'd seen the Priestess open, but it was confirmed for me that, even if Rausery didn't research magic the way some others did, she could still use it.

There was a flash and a lurch which left me momentarily disoriented, but soon my other senses kicked in and I could smell raw rock left unmolded and a hint of water and moss. A soft thrum from the deep warmth beneath us sounded familiar and seeped into my bones, and the energy waves that defined the shape of the caverns and all its features around us soon became clear as a crystal pendant for my eyes. There was no light at all, and the shock of quiet coupled with that feeling of empty expanse took a moment to fully settle in. 

Then both of us crouched down with high rock on two sides of us, silent and still and all but invisible to anything else that might be here as long as we had our cloaks on. I could make out the larger outline of Panagan's bow and quiver on her back and wondered how good her aim was.

Rausery had said we would be within a klick of Jael, but I didn't know which direction exactly. While the area felt familiar, the features were not, and we could wander around for a while missing our target. I looked at my partner in this venture, who was at the disadvantage for not knowing fully why we were here. She only had her orders. She looked around and I knew she did not find the place familiar at all.

Yet I was supposed to let her win this hunt.

It occurred to me that Rausery might know if I "threw" the competition. Would she care? I had no way to know. I knew Rausery was constantly trying to peel back D'Shea's layers of intrigue but I didn't know how much she already knew, or what she even did with the knowledge, given her talk about each of us playing our roles.

With that thought, I signed to Panagan, *We need to find the nearest water source. She would be there.*

She nodded. *I was told we do not compete for her until the grey dwarves are dealt with and the initiate is out of the area. We are a team until then. Is that so?*

I gestured an affirmative and smiled without showing teeth. *Good to be clear.*

As it turned out, Panagan knew signs for finding water better than me. That coupled with my previous knowledge of the area, it combined to bring us to a certain low-based cavern in less than an hour. We crouched again, choosing a place low-profile and defensible, and I indicated a particular hole leading to a long tunnel higher on the cavern wall.

*She'll come through there, if she hasn't already.*

*We must confirm which it is,* Panagan replied with an annoyed slant to her hands.

She moved forward and I had to admit, when she found the subtle signs of a bare-footed, two-legged creature about the size of a Drow and barely a few hours old, I was impressed with her tracking skills. That had to be one reason Rausery was so willing to send just to two of us: I had the overall map, Panagan had the experience of detail.

It wasn't lost on me that this was how D'Shea and Rausery worked together as well: one strategist and one tactician. It wasn't a far leap to credit Rausery with that being her intention. I wondered whether Panagan would ever get it.

*She's ahead of us,* my tracking expert proclaimed. *We have to catch up.*

*She woke much sooner than expected,* I commented.

*I'll track, you tell if we're following a similar path you once took.*

*If she's tired or disoriented, she will,* I wagered. *I took the downhill path, least resistance.*

*We'll see.*

I made no comments or corrections as Panagan led the way for the first half hour, and many memories—some clearer, others more murky—resurfaced in my mind as we travelled. We were going essentially the same way I had before, with only a few divergences that still brought us back to that main tunnel that would lead to where the Duergar had been tapping the stone.

I noticed that the rock in the area did seem to be vibrating with a higher wavelength than I might've noticed before. As we continued, a low hum began to flow through my head and into my teeth, and it became irritating and distracting. I didn't know whether to focus on it or try to block it out, and my hesitation must've shown.

*What's wrong with you?* Panagan signed, her hand flashing quickly. *Step more quietly. We're closing, she's just up ahead.*

I raised my hand to reply, hesitated, looking at the odd pulse in a few spots within the rock, and finally signed, *Psionic energy.*

My Sister just stared at me. She clearly withheld a vocal scoff. *You can't know that.*

I shrugged. *Duergar, then.*

*I see no sign.*

*They didn't come this way, we're not following them. We're just getting nearer.* My signing was insistent.

Panagan paused this time, asking me directly, *Are you a mage, like D'Shea?*

I could easily lie just to get her to take my direction, but I didn't know how that reputation might affect things back at the cloister. Gossip was always interesting and I didn't want different kinds of tests coming my way that I had no way to back up. 

*No, I'm not a mage. I was given something to sense them. Temporarily, for this mission.*

She seemed to accept that because she looked irritated that she hadn't been told. It would work for now.

As the hum got stronger, I started focusing on it more, relying on Panagan to guide me forward closer to Jael. That her physical signs for our recruit and my very abstract one for the Duergar were consistently going in the same direction was not encouraging. Were we already too late?

To my dismay, I could feel exactly when we had come to the place where I'd killed the Duergar.

I recognized the place, too. I could see the pile of rocks I'd mounted on top of his body; they had been partial scattered by scavengers and there were no tools, no cloth, no bones even. Everything was gone except for a few old blood stains that marred the natural patterns of the stone, as if someone had splashed opaque dye onto a bed of phosphorescent moss.

One side of my head started to hurt so badly that I was nauseous. I smelled the scent of the dwarf, felt the oil on his skin, heard again our grunts in my ears as we struggled, as we coupled. I stopped to put my hand on the stone, trying to stay upright, as I felt again the wide, short prick piercing and stretching my body, ramming itself in again and again. I wanted it; I was so angry, so disgusted and horrified that I needed it so, that it should feel so good. I hated that I knew he grown to enjoy it despite the magic trapping his mind and his gift, hated that he planned to do it again to another Drow. He had spurted inside me, bitten me, my back was scraped raw against the rock to which I was pressed. I was bleeding.

It felt so real...

Someone twist my ear and I hissed.

*Silence!!* Panagan signed right in front of my face. *What's happening? You're not acting right.*

*We need to... move past this point,* I replied, starting one determined step farther down the tunnel. "Need distance.* I fumbled for the sign language. Panagan didn't understand and I silently snapped at her, *Psionic backlash! Get me away from here!*

She was wary and confused by the demand, but took my upper arm in a hard grip and started dragging me farther along. Almost immediately I began to feel some relief of the pressure and I gestured, *Yes. Away.*

She kept me moving when I might have sunk to my knees as the presence in the tunnel pressed down on me. I was shaken and trying hard to get those memories, those sensations which I had felt a year ago back under control. It was easily as bad as the first time I'd worn the Feldeu with D'Shea; I couldn't have described anything as it was in the present in that tunnel; I was entirely inside my head. Panagan could have taken anything from my belt or pouches and I wouldn't have been aware.

Eventually my physical sight did clarify and my mind calmed down, and I wondered whether it had never been that any Duergar were up ahead as it had been that particular, haunted spot. Panagan allowed us to stop so I could catch my breath and she stared hard at me as I quickly checked my weapons and belt to make sure all was in place.

*What happened?* she asked again. *You're better now?*

*A psion died there,* I answered truthfully enough, too tired to think of a better story. *The death-energy lingers.* I smiled ruefully and added, *Not sure I want to volunteer for another of these potions.*

Panagan nodded, and if she doubted what I'd said before, she believed me now. *And up ahead? I can hear sound, distant, but more than one body.*

I pulled out my waterskin and took a swig, rinsing my dry mouth before swallowing, took a few more breaths, and tried to concentrate past a still-throbbing head. That hum from before was still there, and it was still in front of us, even as it was also behind us. I was not experienced enough with something like this to be able to tell if it was connected to the living or not. That was why I needed Panagan's solid senses to back things up.

I nodded. *It's ahead, too. Could be grey dwarves, could be something else.*

We both knew without signing each other that we had to speed up significantly.

Luck was with us in that we came to the next opening with the high-ground advantage and it was easy to survey from a low crouch. We could see several squat bodies moving around the base of a surprisingly tall, bulbous boulder, and atop it was the lithe form of a female elf. She did not have clothes on and was crouching on three points of contact, gripping a trembling short sword in her right hand.

Ah, there was our little initiate. And the Duergar had definitely found her.

Jael had gotten herself trapped atop that stone, though given the rough shape she was in and the new blood I could make out glowing more brightly on her body, she was fortunate to still be alive.

Panagan nudged me. *Which are psionic?*

Good question. I looked back, trying to tell a difference between the energy folding around the short, hairy bodies. There were six total, with two that looked different somehow, though it was subtle. I was taking an educated guess, but a guess nonetheless.

*Hatchet and pickaxe,* I answered, identifying them by their weapons. The other four held large axes or dwarf-sized swords of impressive make. They all wore well-made armor of metal and made a lot of noise.

This wasn't going to be easy.

*Some bend energy as camouflage,* I continued. *We outline them if they start to fade.*

She nodded once. *You engage, I'll cover.*

*Why, thank you,* I signed sarcastically.

*I have the bow,* she smirked. *You are melee. You get close and outline, I shoot outlines.*

A loud yelp caught our attention and as we looked up, I saw one of the Duergar was holding on to a rope with both hands. The other end was somehow connected to Jael's leg...

"Barbed hook," Panagan said aloud with a hiss, tensing and clearly wanting to rise and nock her bow.

She was right; I had to move now.

"Cover me," I murmured. "Bright light only as a last resort."

I surged forward down into the hollow where Jael was resisting being pulled off the rock. She landed with a loud scream of pain as my boots hit the cavern floor.

Panagan waited until I was within distance, when my stride made enough sound to cause one to turn around, before she fired. I had to admit it was a beautiful shot, lodged in the armpit as he'd raised his arm. I finished him with a slim stab into the throat with my thinnest blade. Metal armor or not, there were weak points. One down.

"Faeriluci," I growled, flinging a string of magenta magic toward three other targets and outlining them for Panagan just as they all turned to quickly grasp the new threat and shouted dwarvish curses at me as I exchanged my dagger for the short-distance crossbow pistol. 

One major benefit to this fight: the Duergar did not have any ranged weapons right to hand, but Pangan and I did.

My pistol was ready with only one shot, but I was pointblank and a squeeze of my hand sent one I thought might be psionic reeling back with a tiny poison-tipped arrow biting into his bearded cheek. He'd be paralyzed within ten seconds, fifteen if he really fought hard. Eventually his lungs would seize and he'd suffocate. Two down.

Then three when Panagan pierced one outlined in harmless pink light with a poisoned arrow of her own.

The one who held the rope hooked into Jael's calf was farthest from me, the only one remaining who was not outlined, and also possibly the other psion. His milk-white eyes gleamed with energy, as did his teeth as he gritted them; they were all I could make out in his dark, bald head.

The others wore helmets. This one didn't. I really didn't like that.

The two glowing dwarves bellowed something unintelligible at me and I evaded their attacks, drawing them away from Jael and trying to give Panagan a clear shot. I nearly missed the large stone slowly lifting by itself off the ground, preparing to be hurtled through the air as if thrown by an invisible giant. It was aimed at the archer causing the most damage while being out of reach.

"PANAGAN, DOWN!" I yelled so loudly my voice almost broke and I finished it up with a desperate gesture, "LUCINITRE!"

A single bright light lit up the entire cavern for two seconds, centered on the two dwarves in front of me. Roars of pain and surprise sounded at the same moment I heard the harsh bang of stone colliding with stone. I took that as a sign that my Sister hadn't been hit directly, but I wouldn't know for a while if she was still in the fight.

I couldn't see anything; I had to close my eyes and try to ignore the blotchy spots behind my eyelids, and continue fighting that way.

The two Duergar were trying to flank me; their confident movements told me they could blind-fight, too, but fortunately they didn't have my dexterity. I took the few seconds I needed to strain for any sound from Jael while I dodged out of reach of the axes held by short arms. Where was she? 

*Come on, make some sound!*

I heard the drag of a rope and that had to be good enough. I removed a spare steel dagger from my boot—the one that wasn't pre-poisoned, because I didn't need Jael pricking herself in the dark—and I knelt low to the ground to toss it in her direction. It skittered and bounced along the ground and stopped about where I thought she was.

I already knew she was very good fighting with two weapons and if she had her wits at all intact, she'd scissor the thick rope that held her first.

I heard her grunt as she reached where the dagger had landed—*Good girl*—and I evaded the two blind, magenta outlines once again to get closer to the psion this time. I plucked a powder bottle from my belt and threw it in the general direction of the bald-headed dwarf. If I hit him or the ground around him at all, I would be pleased.

"Vahsist—!" he exclaimed, not knowing at all what was on him, dusted all over his armor, before he was forced to cough some of the irritant out of his lungs. 

It would give Jael time, but sadly I could not use a poisonous inhalant on him. Why? Because after him, I heard her cough as well. Then I hacked once. Good thing I wasn't trying to hide.

Finally there was a whistle in the air and a grunt behind me as Panagan took down another of the fighters. Only one remained when I heard the "shink!" of two blades crossing each other and a body rolling farther away. Jael must've freed herself at last. The bald dwarf cursed, coughed again, and turned toward the escaping Drow.

I ignored the glowing, teetering outline of the lone axe-wielder and went instead for the psion, the most dangerous. My sight was slowly recovering, which meant his would be, too, and even if Jael could stand, it wouldn't help her once he could focus with those blank, white eyes on her.

He must have heard me because something that felt like a stone golem's fist struck me directly in the chest and I staggered backward, stunned and unable to breathe while the Duergar continued coughing on itch-dust in the dark. I heard an arrow clink off of the armor of the final outlined dwarf and, knowing Panagan had missed her aim, I had no choice but to dive awkwardly to the side as his axe struck the stone beside me, chipping it with a spark of energy. Jael suddenly screamed somewhere I couldn't see her.

*Did he get her?* When I heard her groan the next moment I knew she still lived.

The pressure inside my head made a sudden, urgent attempt to build and I strained to stand against the psychic attack while trying to stay out of the way of the swinging Duergar with only half my senses working.

Damn it, they were ganging up on me. My crossbow pistol wasn't reloaded and I'd dropped it after the mind-fist had hit me anyway. My volatile poisons would affect me as well as the Duergar—range wasn't an option. 

As much as I did not want to go toe-to-toe with a dwarf's axe with my brain being addled by another, I didn't have much choice. I drew a pre-poisoned dagger from my boot; all I had to get was a scratch on this one. Time would do the rest.




Sufferance Ch. 08



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 2012

The story so far heavily references both "Sisterhood" and "Subterrane" and is continued.

Please be warned this chapter contains more graphic details of gender-based violence.

****

Chapter 8

It turned out to be ridiculously easy determining which direction the missing Duergar had gone. The recent path of seven grey dwarves coming into this area, all wearing metal and tools and hard boots, was clear as candlelight even with my lesser tracking skills.

The female dwarf was backtracking that path, going the opposite direction in which Jael had just run. Panagan and I were able to follow at a fast jog, which would slowly close the gap as we knew dwarves were not long-distance runners. She would stop soon and burrow in somewhere. Where we needed to be much more wary was if we got too close to her own territory. 

While the gnomes were the most proficient in Underdark traps and similar contraptions, Duergar were also smart enough to find and use obstacles to slow down hunters who were faster than them—in the rare instances where they ran, of course. In other instances, they would choose their spot to stop running, turn around, and fight with everything they had.

We were banking on the fact that she likely did not have anything set up in advance; a gnome might have planned an escape route out much farther in ahead of time—rather like the Illithids did—but a Duergar was more likely to be pulling together something quickly and under duress, as the grey dwarves did not often imagine themselves to be on the retreat.

The best Duergar obstacles and traps were at their strongholds, and very rarely did the Drow see it necessary to assault one of those. Too much loss for too little gain. Here in the tunnels, with one lone dwarf and the unlikelihood that this escape had been pre-planned, we only had to catch up with her before she got close to a dwarven stronghold.

We ran into one of those hasty traps just as I began to feel that now-familiar itch of psionic energy just up ahead, as the tunnel widened into another cavern. We knew to stop before that prime ambush or trap spot and check it out before going forward, but the trap triggered without our having to touch anything. I shoved Pangan to one side and we barely avoided being crushed by a recently compromised boulder falling from a ledge over the tunnel's mouth.

Our prey made the mistake of shouting something at us, a threat and a crow of confidence not unlike her male counterparts but definitely with less bass to it. She was outside of range for detailed dark vision, but I still pinpointed her most likely position just as Panagan stood up, withdrew an arrow and nocked it. She drew back and released right where I would have said the dwarf was standing.

We heard a cry of alarm but not one of pain.

*Caught her armor or clothing,* I signed and Panagan nodded with a scowl.

*Hope that shuts her up. Can't stand that hack and gargle language.*

I smirked but made no comment. It didn't sound as coarse to me anymore, but I had a good reason for that; part of it was strapped to my lower back.

The dwarf had said, "Leave me be, Drow, or this stone will make your tomb."

Not very creative but I heard the determination in her voice...and something else. Something I couldn't define. Not fear, Duergar feared very little, but...something causing a great deal of tension.

Panagan put up her bow and drew a dagger. *Flank her,* she signed.

I nodded as we both sprinted in opposite directions, circling around intending to trap her on either side. We didn't see an obvious escape route for her unless she could climb the rock very quickly. As we closed on her, however, she ducked down and made her way into a smaller tunnel that went down, not up or out.

*Oh, fuck Lolth's snatch with a snake-staff....* I thought.

I heard no scraping of metal as I figured the Duergar had to be moving quickly on hands and feet in a very narrow space. We saw why when we reached the mouth; she'd shed the bulk of her armor and her helm and left it behind. It had been a good idea; she'd no doubt get hung-up by it if the passage got any smaller farther in. It reminded me of the path I'd taken underwater to avoid the sentry point and ultimately reached the Consort's tiny farm of solitude, only it wasn't underwater.

Panagan cursed with her hands but stayed silent, then looked at me. *I'm not going in there. She'll collapse the tunnel on us.*

No doubt. Or there might be other traps. This tunnel was intentional—built, not natural—and that close space would be very hard to fight a psion. Dexterity and evasion would mean very little.

*We don't know where she'll come out,* Panagan continued.

*Are you saying she's escaped?* I replied.

She hesitated, not wanting to admit that outright, but did not have any ideas on what to do.

I only had one idea that might off-set our disadvantage, but I could not do it with Panagan watching.

I took off my cloak and rolled it up. *Don't suppose you'd carry this?*

She jerked her head no. Fair enough. I wedged it between two rocks, less obvious than the discarded, dwarf-sized armor.

*What are you doing?*

*Going in. I'll try to flush her out. You stay up here, watch for her to pop up.*

Her look of disbelief also held mocking laughter. *If you want to just walk into the trap, go ahead!*

I wasted no time arguing but ducked down and slipped into the narrow crawlspace headfirst, just as I'd seen the Duergar do. After I'd crawled on my belly using elbows and knees to get just out of sight of Panagan, I reached back to loosen the Feldeu from my belt.

This was a risk, of course, but if I was in a Duergar-made place, I could make the gamble that some interesting knowledge might rise up if I were crawling with a ready erection after a short female dwarf. If nothing surfaced, I did not have to move forward; I could still back out without getting trapped at this point.

I loosened and tugged down my pants, squirming to get it over my hips in the close space and simultaneously sticking the bulbous end of the phallus into my mouth, sucking off the dust and grit that had collected from exposure, spitting it out, then going back to slicking it up with as much saliva as possible. The previous fight and seeing Jael run off in perfect health had left me somewhat aroused, but I still needed the added moisture.

I lay on my side and opened one leg until it touched the top of the passage, pressing the bulb into my sex without delay. It burned a little as I stretched myself too quickly, but soon I had it seated and I whispered the command word. The attachment and rush of pleasure was not diminished much for the lack of foreplay, but instead of lying there stroking it as I wanted to, I hurriedly pulled up my leathers again to secure them, repositioned my belt, and marveled for a moment what it felt like to have this tool straining so hard to be released, pressing scalding hot against my belly and creating a visible ridge beneath my clothes. It made me want to crawl faster, to be more aggressive in my hunt after this...this...

I breathed raggedly for a few moments, trying to think past the rising lust and watch the tunnel around me. My eyes had adjusted, and I saw the scrapes left by pickaxes and chisels; it wasn't extremely recent but certainly not old, maybe a score of years. There were several of these in various caverns between here and Rothlech Deep, for emergencies like this one. It would lead to an underground source of water and another chance to lose any pursuit. With any luck, they had left mounts on their way here.

I knew I only had maybe half a klick of crawlspace before she'd reach the water.

I slithered along as quickly and quietly as possible; I could hear the female dwarf scrabbling up ahead, breathing heavily and not nearly as silent as I was. I could smell the heat coming from her ore-dusted skin. I would catch her, and I would grab her, hold her down...

*Right,* I told myself. *She's got large muscles in her arms and legs from working for the males in the forges every cycle of her life. Let's just wrestle with her in a small space and see if that turned out any better than it did with the last one...*

My thought drifted as I wondered exactly what I planned to do once I caught up.

Something told me I only needed to touch her, just touch her skin.

And then what?

I didn't know. *Just touch her—

*...Dung.*

I kept crawling and saw the trap hatch above my head immediately, as if I knew it should be there. It was a simple trap, but potentially nasty. I could hear as something slapped a bare tail against the enclosure. Something poisonous was in there and ready for when I snagged that impossibly thin metal wire that she'd set up as she passed by this spot....

I reached into a pouch and pulled out a small metal wedge that I could either press into softer substances or hammer into stone using the hilt of my dagger. In this case, I didn't want to noise, so forced it in at an angle through the lighter material that made up the hatch door itself and the filler they'd used to try to camouflage it. Somehow I got the perfect spot, and it sealed the hatch closed. Now I could remove that wire which I could neither crawl under nor over, and I continued past unmolested.

*Nice try.*

My quarry had paused up ahead to see what happened with the trap. It took her too long to determine that I'd somehow gotten past it without tripping it and I could actually make out the smooth, bald line of her round head before she saw me clearly and made a sound of surprise.

My muscles seemed to explode in a surge I would not have tried without the hard prick pulsing against my abdomen, but it seemed to have surprised her as well. She got one good kick—a hard one—to my side before I grabbed her leg, hauled myself up and threw my relatively slight weight on top of her.

These were the Duergar impulses guiding me, I knew; in the proper body, the male's weight on its own would have prevented her from doing much. My weight was awkward for her but nowhere near dense enough to keep her from throwing me off and against the stone. Of course, my real training kicked in at this point because I wanted to live, and I had a blood-stained dagger out and in front of her face, very close to her blank, white eye, just before she could throw me off.

"Shh," I said, "one scratch is all it will take."

I was telling the truth, and she knew it. Something else shocked her into going still as well, and it was only when she spoke that I realized what it was.

"S-so why have you not already, Drowen?" she hissed, as wary as she should have been with the poison dagger so close.

I'd understood her so clearly, and she had understood me. It hadn't been the trade language; I'd spoken in her tongue.

Her expression changed as my weight shifted, settling on her so our joints weren't grinding together. It was a look of dawning horror as she felt my erection.

"Are you... male or female?" she asked.

I half-smiled and didn't enlighten her, only pressed the Feldeu into her and rubbed against her a bit. It felt good and she didn't smell so greasy as I remembered the male Duergar being. She had no hairy beard; indeed, it looked as though she did not have any hair at all: not on her head, her cheeks or chin, not on her bare arms or the backs of her hands. She was completely smooth, dark-skinned but lighter than my own, with strong features—the heavy jaw, cheeks, and brow, plus the rather large nose and prominent lips common to the Duergar.

The most notable quality at the moment, however, was how incredibly plush her breasts her—much larger than mine and soft enough on which to lay my head down, though I would never risk that. Almost everything about her was hard from years of physical labor, except for those breasts. The impulses told me she was a young but fully-grown grey dwarf, and decently comely for her race.

She stiffened beneath my next slow, dry hump.

"Unnatural creature!" she exclaimed in a hoarse whisper. "Get off me—!"

"Be still, Tugren," I commanded lowly in a tone unfamiliar to me, but she immediately stopped her attempts to struggle. I was a bit surprised at her obedience, and for some reason I felt no discomfort at what I was doing—though I should have.

*Tugren.* I had called Gaelan that, after climaxing inside her that last time, wearing this Feldeu...I tried to reach for a meaning to the word but nothing came to me quickly...

"Kill me or let me go, but be done with it," the Duergar demanded, seeming to recall that she didn't have to obey me. "I will fight to my last breath than endure your sick torture, Drowen!"

That was one opinion where we differed. I could endure the "sick torture" just fine. It was just sex, pain, and power-play. Why was it worth dying over? Not that I felt the need to debate that with her; I wasn't even sure whether that was my intent or not. True, I was comfortable lying on top of her, my Feldeu pressing against her inner thigh and her breasts overwhelming mine in a surprisingly pleasant way, but there was something else I could do here that might have more value to me...

I hadn't yet touched her skin, I realized, though the heat of it was slowly building between us in the small space. My gloves had prevented contact, despite the fact that out of her armor she wore a short-sleeved leather work tunic and her thick, muscled arms were exposed.

"Why did you run?" I asked, still speaking in Duergar. "You and six others were chasing a Drowen. I never saw you, so you ran before we arrived to take care of them."

She shook her head defiantly.

"You will answer every question I have, or I will paralyze you from the neck down, Tugren," I reminded her I still held the blade by gesturing in front of her eyes slightly. "You will have to watch every unnatural thing I do to your body and not be able to lift one finger against me. It will only hurt after the poison wears off but until then you'll feel absolutely nothing while seeing everything."

The threat was perfect and hit her very deep; I felt the flash of heat flooding her and heard her heart rate nearly double; her expression flinched once before she ground her teeth and glared up at me.

"You intend to do that anyway," she accused.

"Actually it depends on you, young one," I answered, "maybe I will not, if you talk with me."

I could believe that I was telling her the truth. It wasn't my first choice for how I would spend the next few hours, but if she just played the stubborn, hard-headed dwarf who couldn't see a Drow trying to bargain when it was staring her in the face, then—

"What kind of bargain?" she asked and I blinked.

"Did a little mind-sweeping, hm?" I asked wryly. "You are a psion, then."

She nodded cautiously. "And you...have been touched by one. You are female and yet..."

Her tone held a little bit of awe in it, and I didn't understand why. But now I knew exactly what I wanted from her.

"Why did you run?" I asked again with more force in my question.

"I sensed you, it must have been you," she answered.

"What did you sense?"

"A surge. We had not yet found the place where our scout died but we were close, I knew it. Then we saw a naked Drowen. She was running from something down the tunnel where we needed to go. The fighters had to take care of her before we could continue and face whatever was in the tunnel."

Hadn't that been successful for them?

"That still does not explain why you ran before the fun started, Tugren."

"Stop calling me that!" she cried, anger making her face full of bright energy in the blackness. "I am not your Tugren! I will not be! I'll fight you if you try!"

Finally a meaning found purchase with some context in my mind. Like a consort and a servant together but...more strongly bound. Ritualized, monogamous, entirely so the male could know for sure that he was the sire of any children that came from her womb...

That was one disadvantage to following bloodlines through the male: having to control the female's choices, or get her to control her own. Natural impulse and opportunity often didn't go that way, I knew; better to follow a line through the mother, like we did. Of that parentage, there could be no doubt.

But I had called Gaelan that name as well. She was not...that. Not to me. She could not be a bound consort or servant who bore me children. Maybe it could also mean whoever submitted their body to the pleasure of another...the one intended to be used, for pleasure or breeding...

As I was quiet a moment thinking about this, she shuddered once and I heard her breath catch on a strong emotion.

"Why did you run?" I asked for the third time.

"My Vungren ordered it," she finally said. "He said a ghost was coming and I...was not strong enough to face it yet."

"Ghost," I repeated.

"You. You carry his ghost in your mind."

I found it hard to argue that point, given that we were speaking in her native tongue and I felt calmed and pleasured by her scent and her presence.

"Who is 'he'?" I asked, dreading this to be a mistake, but I still wanted a bargain with her and I needed...something. Information. Some connection.

"My first Vungren, Kain," she murmured. "I served him before he left to scout and did not return. He...must have run into Drowen, and you must have been touching him when he breathed his last."

If the rock to the temple had been the killing strike, then we'd definitely been touching; dwarven prick had still been softening inside a leaking, Drowen cunt.

"They brought you with them, the only female," I almost sneered, "to find your former mate's remains, but sent you away as 'not ready' when you nearly found it?"

She did not reply at first, bewildered at my derisive tone. "I do as they bid me or I am beaten for it."

I huffed a laugh, wondering at the mix of confusion inside me. I personally was not impressed at her answer but I shouldn't care so much; if that was her sex's lot with her race then no wonder she was the first female Duergar I'd ever laid witness to. I'd certainly never heard that they were entirely bald with large, buoyant breasts and thick, soft lips.

But why did I feel...indignant, mentally cursing the stupidity of the group we'd just killed?

Of course they were stupid. They weren't Drow.

*But she could have...freed me...if they had just sent her down the tunnel as they cornered the Drow. That had been part of the mission, to find answers, yet they sent her away! She knew me, she would have sensed me... Idiots inhaling their own beards! Always underusing the female psions, always! And her new Vungren had known something about it...it served him right that he had died so painfully!*

She stiffened again as my dagger wavered closer to her skin, as my other hand closed on one of her large breasts. I growled lowly, fondled it absently as the heat in my groin had generated some sweat between us.

"Stop," she whispered. "Tell me what else you want, you said you would not..."

"Help me, Tugren."

The female dwarf was utterly silent after that plea. Rightly so.

"Let me touch you."

Her white eyes widened and she shook her head slowly, still wary of the stained dagger near her eye.

I didn't accept her refusal; I moved the dagger to the side and leaned down to kiss her, mouth to mouth. So much flesh to her lips, soft and full, it felt like I was pleasuring a particularly swollen, highly aroused set of Drow netherlips...

As soon as I felt it, however, there was a flash in the back of my skull that caused a disconnect between my mind and my body. I was only aware of her more intangible presence, and the way—both familiar and foreign—that we could merge our consciousness together. The first feelings to pierce through the veil were grief, denial, and fear. There were no actual words but I still struggled to understand them that way, forcing them into translation so I would not so utterly insane right there and then.




Sufferance Ch. 08



*You're only a ghost, an echo! I won't help you, I won't, you deserve this punishment! You earned damnation!*

I felt memories swirl and mix in a dark spread of stone, metal, and smoke. Her naked, curvaceous body was his to use as he saw fit. His brutality was expected and would only prove to the others she was no weakling, and he was powerful enough to control her. Especially with her gift of mind.

*You're dead, Kain! You're dead!*

I relived that death yet again and she cried out in disgust and horror at the way that it had happened.

*How...why would you...mate a Drowen? How could you...?*

Psychic hooks snagged hold of my memory, my *real* memories of my trials that led to that: the ritual on the altar, the divine magic and fever-pitch lust that was entirely alien to her. The female Duergar screamed through us both; my trials were the horror story, the very nightmare tales told of the Drowen made clear and real and justified in her fracturing mind.

In return, I saw a brutal slave culture, much more physical than our own but not much different in that the strongest lived longest. The continuous plots and the cruel magic among the Drowen, however, scared the psion down to her core. What she witnessed was too chaotic, the rules changed all the time—at least the Duergar never changed, she thought, at least the beatings and the deaths were straightforward and expected. 

Endurance, fortitude, stubborn determination—those with the will to work another day, to worship a neutral, uncaring god who granted no mercy to the weak, those were the ones who crawled over the bodies of the dead to find the riches and the food.

It was the same for us but that the measure of that endurance, that determination, could be physical, or mental, or magical...or it could be an insane influence from the Abyss, or pure luck from a fickle goddess who only never wanted to be bored, and rarely was— watching a people who thrived on the constant ebb and flow of power among them. Even the rule of the Valsharess was not necessarily set in stone, I thought...it could change, easily, given enough time...

*How can you live with that?!* the Duergar cried in my head. *How can you live not knowing what the next waking will bring?*

*If it never changes, that's when I want to be killed,* I replied. "I will have done it all then."

There was a vocal cry from what seemed far off; I thought we may be struggling, rather like I only vaguely remembered struggling with D'Shea...

*That's where the rage comes from! He's afraid and you aren't, but you haven't dominated that fear yet and when he was afraid, he'd force himself on another!"

I became enraged, hot and immediate. That was wrong. It couldn't be, I knew it! *I'm not afraid, Lana! I will not be dominated! Be still and accept me! Do your duty and free me!*

*I can't! You're dead! No, please! Don't! Stop!*

Intense pleasure flooded through our connection suddenly, but in her I recognized the shock and denial—because I'd felt it the last time: a prick she very much didn't want had invaded her body.

Mine.

I surfaced only enough to feel the hard stone scraping and hurting my knees as I pushed forward, her trousers stretched tight across her ankles and partly in the way as I scrabbled to settle myself between her thighs and flopped down heavily on her breasts. I felt her body's pain and discomfort, and the impulse was there to chastise her for not being ready for me. She'd had plenty of warning that I was ready for her, how dare she try to refuse me...?

*I'm glad you're dead, Kain, I'm glad!* Her pure, hateful emotion surged balefully between us. *It brings me rare joy that a Drowen killed you with your prick hanging out!*

*The second Vungren was no better,* I sneered, both insulted and with an odd urge to laugh in pure satisfaction.

*He would protect me from others, unlike you after you were done! He never left me behind, either! Do you know what happened when you left? He never intended me to deal with your ghost if we found it, it was to be him but he still wouldn't leave me behind without protection!*

*Well, he died with great dignity,* I growled spitefully. *Hooked in the balls by the very Drowen he hunted, with his own barb!"

The surge of grief—feared before but confirmed now—infuriated me, made me jealous, possessive. My pride was wounded and all I wanted to do was make her sorry she'd said she felt more for him than me. I thrust harder and she strained; I could feel spikes of pain jump between us—I loved it, it meant she was receiving her punishment. So much better than coupling with a non-psion where I couldn't feel it quite so clearly.

She was my prize, not his. Mine.

*You're mine...*

*No—*

*MINE!*

*What have I done...? You're not...you're female!* the dwarf pleaded. "I know you are, despite that thing you wear!"

How could she know if I didn't? If only felt good, satisfying doing this, wearing this...

*Drowen!*

I kept fucking her harder, hurting her, I'd strangle the very breath of the cheating, ungrateful Tugren when I was done—

*R-Red Sister! Listen to me, you have to remember!*

My victim took great pains to wrench loose my memory of Auslan and then throw it between us, and she held the arresting image in my mind until I finally experienced a feeling that was from before my introduction to the Feldeu. Then she switched the image to another: Callitro. She didn't know who they were but knew that they were mine—not his—and the ghost couldn't even pretend that they were anything other than Drow.

She started pulling out other male faces from my memories, from my life before the Red Sisters. It cooled the fever that had been building, stopped a rise that was going to lead to a violent murder. Our struggle eased and her pain stopped crackling through my head. I stopped and we were breathless though still connected.

*So many mates,* she murmured. *All of your own choosing, Drowen. Tell me, why so many?*

*Fun.*

I knew she was confused by that. *And...?*

*Desire. Challenge.*

*Not for children?*

I laughed inside our head. *Not possible at the time.*

She understood why after the next moment as a painful memory flashed between us and I felt the horror that she held for my kind once again. Even with some rules in place, some which we enforced more than others, those wide-spread obsessions pushed the boundaries all the time...and it was a sickness to her, that obsession and subversion within our "society."

Similar differences between her kind would be worked out in a fighting ring, with weapons and witnesses. It made it official and everyone followed the result— until the next time. No worship balls, no two-faced politics, just open hate, violence, and aggression.

*Even if it were possible, I wouldn't have taken so many just for children, Lana. You have your ways to find purpose. I have mine. Through strength or through speed, take your pick.*

She seemed to accept that as all pain, aside from shallow scrapes and bruises, finally subsided.

*A Duergar would be driven mad, taking on the death-memory of a Drowen,* she thought quietly. *You...just live with it. You will continue doing so.*

A fearful surge tried to come up as I gripped her harder, as I thought surely there had to be something she could do to make it all stop...! But Lana immediately thought of my male lovers again and the rise ended.

*It's not really Kain in your mind.* She almost seemed to be talking to herself. *Just a leftover shard of his memory. I feel shame for talking back to it, for making it real again... You might not have...made me remember what it was like...with him."

Her body shifted uncomfortably and I became aware enough to withdraw the Feldeu from her without ever climaxing. For the first time, I did not feel the need. I did not even know this was possible; the magic did not urge me to begin coupling toward completion again. I could still feel its heat, its stiffness, but it was....controlled. I controlled it.

*You are already absorbing the shard into your own psyche, Drowen.* Lana's thought sounded tired, and it felt as if she'd given up and submitted to the more dominant will—as she had long been used to doing, over and over again. That was why she was speaking, telling me her thoughts plainly. 

*The catalyst...that thing attached to you...is helping but you will not need it with time. The impulses...will lose their cohesion and will become just memories for you. You only understand too well right now that he would not want to dissolve into chaos, that it is his greatest fear...*

*Especially when he died that way.* I felt her acknowledge my finishing her thought.

*And he *is* dead, Drowen. You killed him.*

Her tone held no accusation whatsoever, no regret; it was a statement of fact.

It was really just the Tugren dwarf and me in this tunnel, then... and it had always been just me and D'Shea, and sometimes Lelinahdara, back in the cloister. My Elder and the Priestess had always spoken of the "imprint" as a foreign body, a male piece that needed to be exorcised out of my mind. The experimental magic they'd performed...they had described it as if it all would rise like some solid body of knowledge and suddenly spill from me like a lanced boil. They would hear my confession and I would be cleansed. It would be gone, once they figured out how to reach it, how to control it....

It had been easier for me to cage it up, then, and only let it out when there was something inescapably male on which I could focus. But this female Duergar was saying....that it would just be part of me going forward. Stop fighting it, bend with the change, it would become...just me.

I was me, and always would be.

"Kill me now, Drowen," Lana spoke to me with her physical voice now, hoarse, wheezing. "Just make it quick."

I had to work to draw in the physical details around us again. Pants down, skin scraped, weapons askew, moisture and heat pressed between bare thighs. I still gripped my dagger in one gloved hand and the other was holding her throat.

"Why?" I asked, easing the pressure on her windpipe so she could speak more easily.

"I know too much," she said simply.

She was absolutely right, of course. The psion had much knowledge of the Red Sisters now and some very intimate details of our race. The grey dwarves had no business knowing any of that and I couldn't let her live...

...but it was interesting to me that she did not want to fight for the right to be the survivor between us. She'd taken it as a foregone conclusion that it would be me who walked away.

"True, but why not be the one to return home?" I asked, confused at her lack of spirit after our first contact and her bold words.

"My second Vungren is dead, now I have no protection," she whispered, blank eyes not seeming to see me directly as her face fell to passiveness. "They will consider me a cursed Tugren after two dead Vungren in two years. Only low males will fight for me now. If I return alone...and they find out what has happened in this twice-cursed area..."

"Wouldn't your knowledge be of worth to them, a bargaining coin?"

She shook her head. "Not without a male of status to vouch for me. And I am...tired, Drowen. I am ready to stop working."

To say such a thing back at her Stronghold, I knew, would mean they'd oblige her only after a sound whipping and wringing the last bit of physical strength they could from her, moving stone or moving anything that needed to be moved...she'd stop working only when her malnourished body failed her.

"You don't care that I would give up, Red Sister," she said. "And you have other pressing matters, don't you? In exchange for my help with the ghost...I only ask you make it quick for me. I know you can."

I could grant her that, yes, and once I did, the entire group—all seven of the Duergar sent out here after the first never returned—would be dealt with according to mission. I'd accept, of course, but first—

"Will they return again next year, having lost eight and knowing little what became of them?"

She nodded, her face hardening at the clear betrayal to her kind. "Yes. They will send fourteen next time. There will be five psions among them. It is tradition. And if those are slaughtered, they will send twenty-eight with seven psions."

"They are that hard-headed," I said.

"They will get what they seek. Strength in numbers. Sooner or later it will work."

"While the females bear more replacements at the Stronghold?" I said wryly, more as a joke, but she nodded silently. "What if they run out of psions?

"It has not happened yet."

Fair enough.

I still had a moderately wet Feldeu pressing to her thigh and I shifted on top of her clumsily; she winced and cursed at me, trying to close her legs against the false phallus and it was apparent that she was feeling some cramping in her muscles. They were an excellent distraction.

I got off her, staying hunched over so my head and shoulders barely missed the low ceiling, and scooted backward from her, pulling up my leathers and cinching my loosened belt. I would have to double-check all my pouches again before leaving here.

She sat up, pulling up her pants as well as I gave a cursory cleaning to my dagger before sheathing it. She glared at me, white eyes flashing dangerously. 

"You are not going to kill me, Red Sister? You should, or I will kill you."

"I already did," I replied. "Wait."

She blinked and reached to the side of her neck with her bare hand; I could see in her face the moment she felt the sting of the scratch. She withdrew her hand and saw the bit of blood on her fingers. She nodded, but the deep-seated fear of dying—which any being with a survival instinct possessed—was clear on her face.

I sensed a reflexive surge of psionic energy in the tunnel and started my retreat quickly as possible. I did not want to be anywhere near another psionic Duergar at their moment of death.

I left her to suffocate as the poison seized her muscles and, eventually, her lungs.

****

"Sirana?"

Panagan's voice was agitated and she was already waiting at the mouth of the tunnel when I hauled myself up and out so fast it was as if something might be biting my toes. I had been so focused on getting out before Lana died that I did not even remove the Feldeu from my sex, it was still in my pants—and now with Panagan watching, I couldn't. I quickly grabbed my cloak where I'd left it, needing the added cover for my ridge.

*What in the Abyss happened down here?* she demanded "loudly" with her hands.

*Did you hear anything?* I asked first.

*Distant shouts in the Duergar tongue, I heard two voices speaking with force. Were there more down there?* She looked me over; I knew I was disheveled. *You are injured again?*

*Mildly, and yes, one more lay in wait,* I responded, glad she couldn't understand the grey dwarf language. That would have been so difficult to explain; easier to lie to her, particularly being distracted still by the sensation of the Feldeu rubbing along the inside of my leather pants. *She planned to escape with one they'd left behind to watch their mounts.*

*And you killed them both?* she asked earnestly. *I saw none surface, though I paced this entire cavern.*

*Both dead,* I affirmed. *No witnesses to return with tales, Panagan.*

She narrowed her eyes at mine for a few seconds before deciding to believe me and calmed some as she nodded. *Then we have completed our mission as my Elder dictated.*

*Yes.*

At that, Panagan spun and whipped her leg around, solidly striking me in the left knee, and pain overtook me as I cried out and fell. I managed to catch myself but hard pebbles bit into my palms through the gloves and my attempt to get back up was met with a second kick to my temple and I collapsed again.

"I told you that you shouldn't have given away your last healing potion, Sirana," Panagan hissed at me, sounding very pleased and withholding a full-throated laugh. "The hunt for the initiate starts now, but you will be too busy trying to leave this cavern alive."

I withdrew a dagger from my boot, teeth gritted against the pain and my mind full of viscous thoughts, but she had already vanished from my immediate view when I looked up. I had intended to try for a spinning throw at her sprinting form but I realized it would be a waste of a dagger as her cloak shielded her from standing out so clearly against the rock, blurring her form to where I couldn't be sure I'd even hit her.

"Cunt," I growled lividly, my head pounding and my knee throbbing from the strike of her boot. She hadn't cracked my knee—I didn't *think* she hadn't—like I had Moria's in Rausery's sparring room, but it had been a similar kick and it would become near impossible to walk before long as my joint swelled and my leg refused to bend properly.

Leaving me here had to be in direct conflict to what Qivni had told me about Red Sisters not letting other Red Sisters to die on a mission, "and that is what this hunt is." So she'd said. For all I knew, she'd been lying, or it had been a deliberate set-up, having me following a different set of rules. Clearly Panagan had been waiting until the last dwarf had been killed before giving herself the competitive advantage in capturing Jael.

True, I had been planning all along to let Panagan capture Jael ahead of me—much as I didn't really want to—but this change in events infuriated me. If I did not make it back, either in good time or at all, Panagan could tell them anything and they'd have to take the report as is unless they sent someone to investigate. They might not; how was I to know? D'Shea had been left out of the loop on this one, and she would already be displeased with me. Perhaps she would think I had brought this on myself.

Of course I had, but I wouldn't give up; I would see the fruits of my second trial out here in the wilderness. Thanks to several events I could have done without in my short life, I knew a great deal more about this area than Panagan did. If she wanted to even the score, she'd find it a bit more difficult than a simple surprise kick to my leg.

Payback would be riding a fast mount on this one. Literally.

It took time for me to drag myself back down into the tunnel and return again to where the second psion with whom I'd become entangled had finally died. I passed her body, slowing up some to note the rigidity of it and the evidence of foam at her mouth.

Like when Jael had slumped over having lost all strength and chance at life, I felt...regret.

I hadn't wanted to kill this Duergar, somehow, I had only needed to. I would not live long if she still breathed, even if I returned. The Red Sister Prime would no doubt see Lana's survival as a failure similar to being captured alive by an Illithid: I would have compromised the entire Sisterhood, exposed them, made them vulnerable to an entire enemy race, and there was no greater failure than that.

The Duergar had seemed to want to convince me—or perhaps herself—that she was better off with a quick death, anyway. I wasn't sure I could ever agree with her on that, but...as long as it wasn't me believing that I had no more choices left, no more chance for change.

I left the body where it laid and moved past it, the Feldeu still present against my abdomen like a nuzzling fire salamander, using my three good limbs to continue down the route she had been going. I knew I did not have far to go before reaching that water source; I could smell the moisture and heard the telltale trickle of liquid occasionally gulping for air as it moved through the spaces between rocks.

When I eventually stuck my head cautiously out of the tunnel connecting the last cavern with a new one, the first thing I heard was deep breath passing through wide nostrils, coming from what had to be a very wide set of lungs.




Sufferance Ch. 08



My eyes made out three individual four-legged and shaggy creatures, unfamiliar to me yet enough to cause a surge of success to fill me as I recognized the tackle of domestication very much like our lizard mounts. The animal was stocky, straight-legged, cloven-hoofed, and thick-furred, smelling of something that did not eat much flesh. The neck was long like a lizard's but donned with a stiff brush of hair trimmed to stand straight up; its tail was cropped and wagged anxiously back and forth across its dung-portal. 

In candlelight I thought it might have been white in color, and the diminutive size made it suitable for the shorter dwarf race as mounts, though it was not lacking in muscle to carry such weight. My sitting astride one would see me a bit long, my legs in particular, but I would be a much lighter burden compared to an armored Duergar.

My head still hurt but I was calm enough thinking that I could actually guide one of these creatures, and the image of Panagan running headlong after Jael, thinking me still completely out of the hunt with an injured leg, spurred me into crawling out of the tunnel and moving carefully down the rocks toward where the mounts drank their water.

"Ihnkrow, ihnkrow," I murmured softly, and two of the mounts looked up with perked, tufted ears. Their eyes were on the sides of their heads, deep black and capable of making out movement most of the way around them—except perhaps right in front of them. Two small black horns jutted straight up from between their ears.

"Ishton yekh," I kept saying, seeing that it kept them calm as I approached. "Ihnkrow."

One of them snorted and started to back up against its lead, making the other two nervous as well—it was either my scent or that of the blood—but I made one final reach to snag the end of a lead and hold on tightly, preventing one from simply moving away a few paces with the other two, keeping the same space between us until I tired of following it.

"Nice try," I grinned, barely balancing on one foot as I pulled at the lead, drawing the beast of burden closer.

I didn't like the scent much; it was earthy and far too musky, and the coat was oily and reminded me of the male Duergar's—of Kain's—wiry, white beard. However, I had little choice as this was quite obviously my ride home, and the only way I might make Panagan's victory a little harder to achieve.

I unhooked the lead from the bridle and hobbled to get myself in position to grasp the knob on the hard leather saddle. I could practically have bent myself belly-down over the animal's without jumping, so I felt fortunate that I suffered only about half as much pain lifting my damaged leg over as I would have with a lizard. The hairy beast shifted and side-stepped as I lay my body along its back, gathering the reins and trying to ignore how much my leg was paining me.

This creature couldn't climb walls the way the lizards could, I knew, though they did have extraordinary balance for their rocky environment. Nonetheless, I'd have to stick to more established, somewhat level pathways, which only increased my chances of running into company. I didn't like it, but it was my best option still.

"Hyah," I said, tugging my beast in the direction of my City before kicking its side with one good leg. "Hyishta!"

The furry mount whiffled through those wide nostrils in response, responding to my confident guidance, and started a sturdy trot, carrying me quickly along the ground with cloven hooves not nearly as noisy as I had expected them to be. Even with my bad leg, my ability to cling to its back allowed greater dexterity over boulders and gutters, and despite its smell I had to admit the mount was incredibly useful traveling quickly over uneven stone. I loosened the reins a bit, giving it more of its head, and our speed picked up though I kept it to a sustainable level.

It would not take long to overtake Panagan and Jael on foot, provided they left enough sign. Then we'd have some real fun.

*****

I traveled closer toward the deep earth pulse of my birthplace, and like the time before, I knew time passed but didn't know how much as my body was sorely tested. 

Eventually after I had gotten the hang of guiding the dwarven mount, I had stopped briefly to remove the Feldeu with some great difficulty while still atop my ride. Nevermind the awkward balance and my injuries, it had hurt much more coming out of my body than it ever had, having never been satisfied. I was glad to tie it securely to my belt and let my birth canal slowly shrink back to its normal size.

My endurance was flagging just as I sluggishly realized so was my prey—it was a long way and we were all tiring. I doubted many previous Red Sisters hunting a recruit had needed to follow their target all the way from the starting point of an initiate's test.

Jael had run into something, I thought, as I passed a bloated, scaly body now poisoning a pool of water, covered with short sword wounds and not four marks old. A little Drow blood had been spilled, and I also found Panagan's bootprints outlined in a splash of the black blood as well. I saw it definitely was not her fullest stride, and I continued on my mount without stopping to rest.

I was catching up, and the furry body beneath me had shown extraordinary endurance, so long as I kept the pace steady. It had been when I pushed too hard, or too irregularly, that the animal seemed confused and would fail to obey directions. Maybe we could keep it at the cloister after I returned. No sense slaughtering the thing when it had been so well-trained.

I recognized the point where I had stopped before, going off the known path and finding that alternate water-way to avoid the sentries. We were close. I had to catch Panagan, if not Jael, before the sentries met them. And I would, because I truly had the element of surprise.

Or I would have, if Panagan hadn't stopped to sight-see for some silly reason. I unexpectedly came upon her after rounding a bend, still a good distance from the checkpoint. 

Oh well, I still enjoyed her initial expression of plain, open-mouthed disbelief.

I drew my crossbow-pistol and shot at her before kicking the beast forward with a scratching of pointed hooves against deep earth. The bolt missed her—I was far too tired and in too much pain to have made such a quick shot an accurate one—but she yelled and ducked, rolling as if expecting to be trampled, and that suited me just fine.

I yanked back on the reins to stop right next to her and dropped off to the ground on top of her, landing my good knee in the big muscle of her thigh.

Such a satisfying scream. It was worth the bone-jarring agony of willingly falling off my mount.

New energy fueled by my desire for revenge poured through me, and I found that I could rise partway over her. I drew back my fist to punch Panagan hard in the face, stunning her as I lost my balance and fell forward, my chest smooshing her face and partially suffocating her. I felt her hands grasping for anything on my belt and I rolled just enough to jab my knuckles against her throat.

"Tell you what?" I gasped. "Forget Jael... I thrust, you swallow."

She glared at me as she struggled to do simply that: swallow. She winced in pain and coughed several times. I scanned her belt for a healing potion, recognized one bottle, and went for it.

It was a hard struggle; perhaps I shouldn't have taken the time to taunt her. We grappled over the bottle for a while before a particularly painful fall on some rocks brought the potion down too hard and the glass shattered in our hands. Enough spilled into the palm of my glove, I thought, that I quickly brought it to my mouth and strained it by pressing the warming liquid to the roof of my mouth. I spat back out a few tiny shards of glass with one still stuck in my inner cheek.

"Crazy slut!" she snarled hoarsely.

I laughed. It had worked. The swelling in my leg was reducing at a rapid pace and my head was quickly clearing of its fatigue and its dull ache. I'd be able to stand in another thirty seconds. I flicked at the remaining piece of glass with my tongue as the cut healed and spit it out at her face; I saw it glint harmlessly off her cheek.

"Fuck you, Sirana." She licked at her own glove, clearly needing the extra pep after the long tracking and hunting.

"Take down your pants. I'll oblige."

Panagan struggled harder, this time trying to get away from me. I tried to hold her but couldn't stand quite yet when she escaped and went straight for my mount. I watched her put too much energy into hopping onto the short animal and she nearly went over the other side. I began laughing hysterically.

"Shut up!" she bellowed as she scrambled to right herself. 

Her voice right next to the tufted ears scared the nervous creature and Panagan nearly fell off again when the furry beast side-stepped several paces before rising up on its hind legs, kicking outward and making a bleating wail of distress. She jerked too hard on the reins, trying to force the animal to obey her, and it spun nearly in a circle before bucking its hind legs up and out, neatly throwing the Red Sister off before bounding several strides away from the two scuffling Drow.

"Not as easy as it looks," I said gleefully, continuing to rock on the floor and laugh at her as my leg finished healing.

Panagan shook her head to clear it and gave me a murderous look. We were both still on the ground, barely able to catch our breaths.

"We both fucked up this hunt, you know," I said.

"Don't waste your breath," she replied with a snarl. "I don't want to hear whatever self-justified piece of trash would spill from y—"

"Red Sisters commonly leave each other to die on a mission, then?" I asked.

Her moment of silence was encouraging. Perhaps Qivni hadn't been lying or setting me up.

"Wasn't this hunt a mission?" I pressed.

"You interfered," she accused. "It isn't a true hunt. You should have let her die!"

"Yet you told her to run," I rebutted. "You tracked her the entire way. You always intended to catch her. And with me gone, you could claim a valid hunt. You must want to stay above Moria pretty bad."

"And you...what dung have you been pulling from nowhere? By Lolth's soggy snatch, what is that thing?" she gestured to my short furry beast now nibbling on some moss and sipping at seeping stone. "Where the fuck are you getting your knowledge?"

I replied with a wide grin. "I'm very lucky."

We lay there staring each other down for many long moments; only when I'd given my Sister enough time to consider the fact that we would both be giving our reports at the same time—that I'd be giving one at all—that I repeated: "You weren't supposed to leave me unable to walk, Panagan, and especially by your own action. Qivni won't be pleased."

"I didn't actually *break* your knee, you would have made it back eventually," was her reply, but she was looking unhappy. "Qivni would have looked the other way. She doesn't like you anyway." 

"And Rausery?" I tested.

Ah, there was the source of worry now. I jumped on it.

"Tell you what. Rausery doesn't need to know about my little injury if—"

"She'll still be able to tell Jael was healed, Sirana," Panagan sneered. "You can't hide that. It would have been so much easier if you'd just stayed out there for a while. I could have handled it and we'd have all gotten what we wanted. Well, except you, but you were the one who wanted to trade your last potion for the recruit's life, so you reap what you sow."

"So I'll take the heat for that and you still capture Jael and present her to Rausery," I replied, leaning forward with more intensity. "I will say I twisted my ankle after we went our separate ways and found the creature in trying to get back. That's close enough."

My rival stared hard at me, silent for a few moments. "I don't see anything that you get out of that."

"That's because I haven't said yet." I let me eyes trail down slowly before going back up. "I hunted you, and I caught you, quite fairly. I want you to bend over. I want you to take down your leathers and let me mount you. After I've cum, you can go after Jael, get her, get the reward and be above Moria again. And I won't report to Rausery about your treachery."

Panagan's eyes had widened significantly. "When did you get a...." She didn't say the name.

"Not your concern. Jael's getting closer to the sentries, Panagan, you don't have much time," I reminded her. "I'll keep you here until some other Red Sister stumbles on her. You know they're watching. You'll lose your chance and I'll tell exactly what happened after I finished off the last Duergar in that tunnel you refused even to enter."

Her face flushed with tension in the dark; she didn't like her position. She wouldn't like her future position, either. I smiled.

"You want something else, you're after something else!" she insisted.

"True, but it doesn't concern you. All I want of yours right now is your tight hole."

Well, I wanted that, and her belief that she could best me. I wanted that stripped from her mind, even if officially she was still ranked above me.

She could never best me alone, and I wanted her never to forget it.

"Candle's burning," I said, staring at her. "Come on, Panagan...you'll get to see me punished over healing Jael regardless. You'll not be outed on your indiscretion, not while it matters, anyway. You know how time makes all sins seem less important, particularly when they result in failure anyway. Your ploy failed, I caught up with you, so I get to fuck you—but you don't have to take Rausery's punishment for it."

Panagan pursed her mouth and I watched her weigh giving me what I asked versus the tangible goal very near to hand. I had a good feeling which one would win. She'd been focused on this hunt for far longer than I had been and knew what she wanted out of it so badly. She could have it—provided she accepted it was at my tolerance.

I could almost read her comforting herself: it wasn't as if she wouldn't get another chance to dominate me sometime.

True—except that she wasn't one to think far enough ahead to make it intimidating for me. She had lost twice; I could never be intimidated by her again. She'd realize that at some point.

Panagan nodded at last. "Alright, but if you go back on your word, I'll tell Qivni you didn't really kill the Duergar and she escaped."

"We'd both pay for that one, not just me," I grinned, "and I brought proof anyway." I indicated the white furry mount wandering around grazing nearby. "Don't forget, I have a lot more knowledge than you about that. Just take it that I have more benefit in *not* getting into a 'she said' battle with you over this, Panagan. Bend over for me, take my Feldeu, then take Jael, and I stay silent. We go from there."

At last she agreed, still as bewildered at my bargain as I have been with some of D'Shea's orders. She knew she was missing a large part of the puzzle but could do little else but trust that what I wanted most wasn't petty revenge against her.

Well...except I did. That was why we were walking somewhere with more obstruction, less likely to be observed as she gave me what I wanted. It was petty revenge, just not my ultimate goal.

"Belly down, over that," I said, indicating a nice boulder about the perfect height. We were behind several more columns and stalagmites, well off the beaten path.

Panagan showed she was still a lower-ranking Sister with how readily she could undo her belt and open her leathers. She knew she was going to get fucked and was even showing just the slightest tremor of anticipation. I noted that she did not have a Feldeu on her at all when she removed her cloak and wondered just what she planned to do when she caught Jael.... 

Next she nudged down her pants to just below her buttocks and leaned over, presenting her backside to me as she rested her abdomen on the boulder, but she kept her belt grasped firmly in one hand and rather far from me as she braced herself.

She looked over her shoulder, watching me remove Gaelan's Feldeu from my belt and begin donning it. "Be quick. I have to have a real chance to catch her or our deal's off."

That was no threat to me. I was going to face a reckoning regardless, but I was going to mount her before it happened.

"I trust you don't want me to be *too* quick," I crooned, reaching to smooth my gloved fingers over her netherlips and sliding up to circle her pucker. I poked briefly at the dry hole and she grunted softly in protest.

"Yes, that's what I thought."

She didn't reply as I tugged her pants farther down, exposing more of her legs, first to her knees and then I decided to go all the way to the tops of her boots, running my gloves over her calves and the backs of her knees. She looked incredibly vulnerable.

"Then again, you didn't give me much time to adjust, did you?" I said, and she tensed.

"Just fuck me and be done with it," she said, tinged with bitterness.

"Your cunt or your back portal?"

"I know you want to do the same to me that I did to you, so do it," she said. "I can take it."

"Mm-hm." That pretty much decided it for me right there.

I leaned down quickly and parted her buttocks, beginning to rim her with my tongue, flicking and stabbing at her as she clenched tight in surprise; she barely gulped down a vocal cry. I was insistent with my tongue, starting to stroke the Feldeu as it began to ache but kept lavishing attention on her rectal bud. Only once it had relaxed and started opening to me in little pulses did I leave it and force her legs wider, tasting her fragrant lips. They were wetted already and most of it not by my mouth.

"Reach back and hold yourself open," I commanded in a low tone, just to test her. I was very happy to see her obey, even happier to watch her arch her back a little.

"Well-trained, just like all of us," I commented. "Just takes a strong hand to get the juices flowing."

Her breathing was a little ragged with her ribs and belly pressed to the rock, but she looked over her shoulder at me again, keeping her hands gripping her rear. "Hurry. You can force it up my netherhole if that's what you want, alright?"

I didn't buy her resigned acceptance the second time; perhaps the brutal reaming that she'd done to me was only what she knew, or what she liked. "Does Qivni do that?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Does Qivni do that to you?" I bent my legs slightly and leaned closer, preparing to fit my phallus between her legs. I nudged at her sex but didn't penetrate.

"Uh..." Panagan sounded distracted, but answered cautiously. "Sometimes."

"Why?"

"Because I displeased her somehow."

"Easy to do, from what I remember."

"She's...particular."

I smoothly inserted the Feldeu into Panagan's snatch, much hotter, I'd bet, than it had been just a little while ago as we wrestled on the stone ground. She gasped and I felt her body tighten around me, almost sucking at me; I groaned.

"That's it, sweetcake. Oh, after all those crude humpings you gave me, Panagan, I didn't imagine your sex would be so soft and welcoming." I started stroking inside her; she was wet, and getting wetter. "I think you're better practiced at being the receiver than the giver. So when Qivni would force it up you, did it start to feel good after a time?"

She emitted a soft growl; both annoyed and aroused. She still held on to her buttocks and kept herself open for me so I could watch myself sink into her and pull back out again. I reached beneath to start playing with her mound and she jumped, surprised, perhaps expecting pain. She relaxed some when I merely tickled her clitoris casually.

"It's no mystery, Panagan, you can tell me," I cooed, still enjoying the way she clutched at my phallus. "Jaunda often rides my netherhole roughly... it turns to pleasure after enough strokes. Is it the same for you?"




Sufferance Ch. 08



I took a few very long strokes, pulling out entirely before squeezing the head back into her cushy sex, pulling out and pressing in again. She moaned.

"Y-yes," she said.

"Is that an answer, or do you just like what I'm doing?"

"Both," she hissed. "Fucking cunt..."

I chuckled. 

"So have you ever gotten Qivni to cum?" I asked, taking the opportunity to play not only with Panagan's clit but also her open and available anus.

"Sh...ah...fu-...augn..." she moaned, starting to strain to get my fingers to touch certain places. I paid attention to the movements and obliged her, but also felt the tension coiling up in my abdomen as I approached a much-delayed climax.

"Keep your hands on your ass, Panagan....Don't move them. Come, now...yes or no?"

"Yes..." she gasped.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I've...made her cum."

"How did you do it?"

"Not...part of our bargain, Sirana...ah!..."

I pressed on her clit harder, as she seemed to like it. Then I released, squeezing her lips and rubbing her clit indirectly between them. It was getting in the way of my own thrusting and that was probably the only reason I hadn't orgasmed yet. I kept rubbing harder and Panagan trembled and moaned, and as soon as I felt the first flutters around my cock, I removed my hand, my phallus, everything except for a hand on her lower back, prepared to hold her down and keep her from finishing herself.

She was shocked speechless. My timing had been about right; I'd wrecked a climax that had just begun, leaving her with one or two beginning waves of pleasure before it disappeared unfulfilled.

"How did you do it?"

"Are you done...?"

"No." I shoved the Feleu back into her but otherwise held it still, using my weight to keep her hips from moving too much. "But we'll save time if you talk. I like to talk when I'm fucking, Panagan, I learned it from Jaunda."

The impaled Red Sister looked toward the City, apparently recalling that Jael was running closer, and that assisted me in breaking down her resistance to my additional demand. "She likes it when...you suck hard on her, and hold on...sometimes it can take half a mark. It makes her clit swell large."

That was certainly an oddity. I'd noticed a generous clitoris before, the single time Qivni had taken me—impatiently and with distaste—and she had asked to be sucked, and yes, I'd been reluctant, but she had barely given me any time to explore that route before she threw me off, seeming to change her mind. Instead she slapped my backside repeatedly until it was burning hot and roughly pierced between my cheeks with the Feldeu. And that was that.

I withdrew from Panagan and pressed the well-oiled head of the magical phallus against her rear portal; I heard her suck in her breath and felt her yielding already. I paused, letting her orifice clench helplessly at the desired tool, only barely inside.

"That's all you do? Suck hard?"

"She likes...sharp pains..."

"So...pinching her inner thighs at the same time, perhaps?"

"Yes!" Panagan gasped. "Sirana...you've got...more than we agreed. Hurry and finish!"

"Tell me one more thing true about Qivni. Your choice." I sank only a small measure into her bunghole and she trembled, growled when I stopped.

"Ah..." she tried to answer. "S-she...is a Priestess's daughter."

"Which one?" I gave Panagan a few faster strokes as encouragement.

"Guh, oh...fuck," she gasped, "yes, like that!"

I stopped. "Which Priestess, you slobbering slut?"

"Not one you'd know, cunt," she ground out. "She hasn't had...much to do with the Sisters."

"Is that how Qivni learned to manage Draegloth with that Abyssal language?"

Panagan nodded. "I th-think so."

Good enough.

I finally loosed my own reigns, fucking Panagan's asshole has hard as she had mine when we'd wrestled in the past. It seemed exactly what she wanted; she cried out excitedly and I thought that as long as we'd both messed up this hunt from beginning to end, we might as well not try to be quiet about it now.

By this point I did not need long, however, and I gladly climaxed before Panagan did, groaning and pressing in to the hilt into her body as I shuddered over and over. She writhed under me, frustrated and unsatisfied, but I leaned back and pulled out, leaving her vacant.

I chuckled with a slap to her backside before stepping back. "Better go catch Jael, Panagan."

She got up and glared hotly at me, setting her uniform to rights and picking up her cloak. It appeared that she would be finishing her hunt with a drenched and frustrated crotch as she would not take the time to wipe off.

From the look on Panagan's face, Jael would be in for a time if she ended up as sloppy seconds.

"You keep to your part of the bargain," Panagan demanded again.

"Of course," I agreed casually. "I told you, this is better for me. And if I may say, you have a hungry pair of clutching holes, Sister."

"So do you," she spat, as if that were something we didn't both already know.

I waggled my fingers in farewell as she finally took off running. I took some time to properly remove and wash the Feldeu then myself, checking over my equipment and listening to the environment around me. Smaller creatures, blind or spineless, crawled around and I heard running water somewhere to my right, but no caravans, no patrols. I was taking a lot of risks lately but felt myself caring less at this point. I'd be paying plenty for all that I had accomplished when the time came, but I couldn't bring myself to worry so much as I might have before.

I was getting tired of that. Fortunate favored the bold.

I loved that Panagan had pulled down her own leathers to present to me. Perhaps she hadn't realized it, but none of her group had ever gotten me to do that for them; they had always needed to forcibly strip me, if I wasn't naked already, and spread my legs or my buttocks open themselves. I submitted to directions after that point, even willingly used my mouth, but the initial exposure of my quivering loins had needed to be earned.

It was not necessarily a game-winner between us, but it gave me an edge that I knew how to use. And now I knew a little more of what made both her and Qivni tick as well.

I prepared myself to continue the hunt—because I had to at least make the appearance—and went to collect my dwarven mount before finding out where the rest of the Red Sisters waited, and who ultimately captured Jael Aurenthietti.

*****

If I desired, I would have been able to ride right past the sentries; they did not slow me or signal to me. The uniform was more than enough, even if I could sense them staring at just what I was riding.

I slowed myself down, however, and signaled to them.

*Who has passed through in the last candle mark?*

The sentry who answered carried herself well, balanced and watchful. She wore well-made armor and a distinct helmet of unmistakable spider-like design, a cloak around her shoulders that could blur her form as well as mine could if necessary.

*Four other Sisters and one fugitive, Red Sister,* she signed. *Three appeared first, ordered us not to challenge the fugitive. A fourth Red Sister followed soon after the fugitive passed. Then you, three minutes later.*

I nodded. *As you were.*

Figuring Panagan had the same information—if she had a wit in her head after I'd fucked her to frustration—it would be close, and it depended who that trio of Sisters was, whether they simply pounced on Jael ahead of Panagan.

I rather hoped it wasn't any of D'Shea's party.

Though I was healed and could run again, my shaggy beast would allow me to close that three-minute gap much more quickly. Small farms and plantations were dotting the expanse of the cavern base as I galloped along the road leading to the City. It would still take three or four marks on a candle to reach it at a walk, less on faster transportation, and the Red Sisters had plenty of open, less populated land to track and chase the "fugitive" within Drow territory.

I found the footprints that went off the road and into the fields, and I looked ahead of me, straining to detect life movement. I heard it before I saw it and kicked the mount in that direction. I saw bodies darting after and flanking a naked figure, trying to steer her in some direction. I saw more detail as I got closer and recognized Moria and Zursa with Qivni.

My relief that it wasn't Jaunda and hers warred with my caution and my competitive jealousy; it was hard to watch and not make my own attempt to capture the prey.

Jael put up an impressive effort to evade capture, but ultimately did not see Panagan until it was too late, and she was tackled in the farmers' dirt. I dismounted and approached silently, noting how greedily—it seemed to me—that Panagan groped at Jael's naked breasts and plunged a gloved hand between her legs before pinching her buttocks. The initiate squealed and shrieked in anger; she would have fought anyway, but my frustrated rival's invasive and crude exploration made Jael understandably anxious about what would happen to her.

Panagan could hold her down for only brief spells, but in those moments, she worked on removing and tossing her belt toward Zursa, who picked it up, and opening and shoving down her own pants. I felt one of my brows rise when I saw Moria step forward to hand out a Feldeu to Panagan.

It was a foregone conclusion what would happen next, but I wanted to see if it was any different than what I'd experienced.

It was easier, with less chance for injury, to hold Jael down on her belly but she resisted putting her rear up in the air. By Moria and Zursa's crows of delight, Panagan did finally penetrate Jael even with her hips on the ground, claiming her, but had difficulty staying in long enough to climax. Jael's wriggling kept dislodging her.

I wasn't sure that orgasm was a requirement to satisfy the claim, but I knew Panagan really wanted to cum after I'd left her so aroused and angry. She was desperate and not much in control of herself even when she managed to grip Jael's hair and hold her face to the ground while getting her hips risen just enough to reposition her phallus.

I heard Jael scream in pain and anger as Panagan cruelly speared her backside, and I automatically scanned the field for witnesses. If there were any—likely there was at least one—they were staying their distance from whatever was going on. Any voyeurs would only see the Red Sister's carrying out a well-known punishment and be glad it wasn't them.

I thought Jael's current responses were quite familiar on a personal level. Panagan hadn't prepared her at all; she'd just done her usual insertion without any skill or finesse. Whatever previous use the initiate might have experienced wouldn't have carried over after I'd given her my healing draught; she'd be tight and new again as if she hadn't been gang-banged any number of times in the last two cycles. It could be a double-edged sword, the healing. 

Panagan had no thought for anyone but herself right now, and Jael wouldn't enjoy this. She could only endure.

Qivni saw me first as I slid closer and smiled in satisfaction. "Too late, Sirana. She's ours. Be a good girl and inform D'Shea."

Moria and Zursa looked as well and grinned widely, Moria sneering at me. Panagan's back was to me as she humped a still-struggling and lividly cursing Jael with as much appeal as I recalled; she did not look at me.

I smiled back, but tightened one side of my mouth as if I tasted something sour. "Four against one in the endgame hardly seems sporting."

"Jaunda's nearby as well, novice. She saw you didn't make it in time, so no need for her to help you."

"Then now what, Lead?" I asked, deciding not to pick a fight right now.

"You go report to D'Shea. Leave her with us, we will bring her in."

Fortunately for Jael, Panagan was ready to peak quickly and did so with a loud, aggressive growl of release, pressing her hips flat against their new novice. As soon as she dismounted and Jael tried to move, Moria and Zursa each grabbed an arm and hauled her backward and to her knees between them.

The initiate was infuriated, trembling with pain and overflowing emotion. I felt a stab of excitement and arousal watching her expressive face and her body language. She would keep fighting for now, and thanks to the tactics used in this very field, it would take time to break that habit and get her to start thinking before she attacked.

I was not impressed, and wondered when I would have my turn with her?

Gaelan had done me a favor after my capture, taking me somewhere safe and private and doing things the way she had, not so crudely and publicly as this. 

Jaunda had been smarter as well for leaving us alone; I could believe, knowing what I knew now, that the Lead and her team could have walked onto the scene at any time after Gaelan had caught me atop Auslan. She and the others had come in only after I'd completely submitted to anything the younger Sister had wanted to do, after the divine magic had run its course for the moment.

It had to have been D'Shea's doing, hadn't it? Her instruction?

Maybe Jaunda has been well-aware this whole time of the plot to keep Gaelan raised above me, even though it was not the natural order. Maybe that was why she hadn't walked in recently while I'd been worn the Feldeu with Gaelan for the first time...

Certainly more food for thought.

Jael was breathing rapidly, her skin dusted and smeared with dirt, her teeth bared still even though she'd probably been fighting long enough to burn down quite a few candles. It spoke well for her iron-strength will, but could she be guided?

She looked up and focused on me, recognized me quickly. I resisted the urge to wink at her again, but felt myself smiling anyway. Her expression in return was wary; I could not be sure what went through her mind right then, but I wondered whether she might believe I had more to do with her recent change in fate than I actually had? It would have been a thought of my own, were I in her place.

Qivni ended the eye-contact between us by roughly slipping a black bag over Jael's head and cinching the drawstring. Our initiate panicked at first, trying to reach for the bag, writhing to escape as the other two Sisters held her firm. The Lead removed a crop from her belt and slapped Jael's back and buttocks a few times.

"Stop," she ordered. "Behave yourself." She looked at me with an annoyed expression; she had certainly noticed my apparent connection with the initiate and she wondered about, it but was not going to ask about it now. "Sirana, return to your Elder. Sisters, come."

They dragged Jael away with them and toward some mounts awaiting them as I watched, and I sighed quietly to myself.

I would have done it a different way.

I strode to return to my own loitering mount as they withdrew into the distance and the darkness, and Jaunda would have successfully sneaked up on me if not for the anxious dancing those cloven hoofs. I spun around.

"Lolth damn that beast." Jaunda was grinning, nearly upon me.. "Looks like you have quite a story to tell."

I took the moment I needed to reach for the creature's reigns, just so it wouldn't skitter away. I nodded and tried not to smile too smugly. "I do."

Jaunda's arm snaked around my shoulders and I felt her put much of her weight against me. It was not from any need for affection or closeness on her part. From what I'd grown to understand, she did it as a show of dominance, forcing the other Red Sister to focus on keeping herself upright while Jaunda spoke more privately to her.

"You need a bath, sweetlips."

"I don't doubt it, Lead," I smiled. "Where is your team?"

"Sent them back once Aurenthietti was caught. D'Shea's unhappy with you."

"I knew she would be. It worked, though."

"What worked?"

"Aurenthietti had a fair shot to make it back, so it protected D'Shea's interests."

"Meaning...you convinced Rausery the recruit didn't have a chance, unless you and Panagan left right then?"

I nodded. "Close enough, Lead. Panagan and me leaving then was Rausery's idea."

Jaunda was silent a moment, then spoke again. "You know, sometimes they just die, Sirana. We don't ultimately get every recruit that we pick. Maybe half."

I didn't reply, uselessly standing next to the dwarven mount holding the reigns.

"You fancied this one especially? Met her before, perhaps?"

"I met her before, yes. During the battle with the Illithids."

"The last one?"

"Yes, Lead."

"Ah. That explains something D'Shea said."

I knew better than to ask with that tone. Something held warning in it.

Jaunda's gloved had slipped down my back over my cloak. "Good for you following orders and letting Rausery take this one."

When her hand reached the small of my back, I gasped involuntarily and tried to shift away, but realized too late that Rausery had been going for it anyway. She gripped me and pushed hard to bend me over the saddle of the mount, taking the reins from me and speaking what I thought were magical words as her hips pressed against my buttocks, her weight holding me to the saddle for the moment. The dwarven mount inexplicably went very docile and cooperated to keep me trapped between it and Jaunda.

My Lead's hand withdrew the Feldeu from my belt.

"We were wondering where this had gone," she murmured. "You've got some explaining to do."

She didn't want me to explain anything right then, however. She promptly put me back on the receiving end of her own Feldeu.

"Take down your leathers for me, Sirana," she ordered, and there was no negotiation.

I did as ordered, well aware of the irony that I'd pressed Panagan into doing the same for me just a few marks before.

This was outside of Jaunda's and my previous arrangement, but she'd found Gaelan's missing Feldeu on me and I figured her stretching my holes out here in an open field was only the beginning of that punishment.

It could be worse.

"Ungh, Lolth, I've missed this," she grunted as I flinched as she went straight for my netherhole. Her thrusts got very hard, very fast. I was gasping haggardly to keep breathing as the beast's spine pressed up just beneath my ribs. 

"And you...still owe me a hunt."

I did, didn't I?

"Fuck," I gasped, writhing under an unabashed mixture of pain and pleasure in my loins and my ass.

She did me harder, slapping my haunches and talking to me as she did so. "You've been up to a lot lately...you'll tell everything, all bargains struck, all secrets being kept, when D'Shea asks, won't you, little apprentice?"

Apprentice? I groaned, unable to answer for a few moments as Jaunda kept her harsh tempo. "I...I..."

"I shouldn't have to tell you...D'Shea can honor your deals with others, provided they don't interfere with her own...but you have to tell her about them. If you don't, she'll make you. You know that, right? You know the mistake Gaelan made?"

I nodded. "Y-yes, Lead...I know..."

"You've crossed a couple lines now, worse than that sweet sub ever did. Better talk fast before she forces something down your throat... and it won't be my cock."

I understood clearly, feeling hot flashes both from the extremely forceful coupling and the fear of being made to take another compulsion potion... "W-why would you care, Lead?"

"I watched you back before you came to us, Sirana... I know you. Love the way your mind works. Don't want..." Jaunda's voice got thicker, huskier as she got closer to climax. "Don't want D'Shea to make another mistake she'll regret... because of her pride and station. Gaelan was never like you but...that potion was a mistake. She hasn't been the same...too fearful, too meek. She will try but she won't last unless she earns back D'Shea's trust and somehow gets it reversed."

Jaunda pulled out completely before thrusting all the way back in, making my back jerk with the force of it as I cried out.




Sufferance Ch. 08



"Got me, novice?"

"G-got it, Lead...I understand...!" I gasped.

Jaunda humped twice more before she came inside me with a low roar, and still the mount beneath me didn't move or even whicker.

****

"Will it—?"

"It'll be fine. The lizards can't get at it and it has something to eat. Let's focus on you, hm?"

I badly chafed as I followed Jaunda back through the cloisters. Red Sisters whom we passed perked up with interest and made a variety of expressions as they determined two things immediately: the hunt was over, and Rausery's side had won. Even if they had heard already, my following Jaunda around empty-handed only confirmed it for them.

We went directly to D'Shea's quarters without pausing, despite a few others who tried to engage my Lead for some practical reason or other. Jaunda told them gruffly, "Later," and we continued past. 

When we were bid to enter, I could tell from first glance that D'Shea was only waiting here because she knew Jaunda had returned with me; she was wearing her reds and looked as if she'd been busy recently. It was a notable difference from often finding her relaxing in her smooth robes working at her desk. The Lead withdrew Gaelan's Feldeu from a pouch and set it without comment on one of the side tables where it could be seen clearly.

And, yes, D'Shea was not happy with me. She was scowling, and her copper eyes flashed with too many thoughts and a great deal of energy as she focused on me.

"Thank you, Jaunda," the Elder said with a voice coaxed into being calm. "Please stay for the time being."

"As you command, Elder," her right-hand said and stepped quietly off to the side, standing straight and simply waiting to be directed.

D'Shea approached me immediately; I knew better than to speak before being spoken to, so remained silent. My Elder paced around me, raking every detail of my current state with her eyes. She took hold of my cloak and checked it with her hands, smoothing over the material methodically. I had no idea what she thought she might find, but it was my first hint that I wouldn't be speaking for a while.

"Remove your cloak. Roll it and set it on the ground," D'Shea ordered once she was satisfied that it hid nothing.

I obeyed, and then she checked every pouch on my belt, removing each bottle and tool and spent dose of poison, laying them out on the table next to the Feldeu I'd stolen. She checked the belt itself and commanded me to remove that and place it on the cloak, which I did. From there she checked my hair, my armor, my gloves, my boots. She found little that seemed out of place, but whatever she did find she placed on the table. Then I was to remove that item, and ordered to take down my hair.

Jaunda was right; I was filthy and needed a bath.

Shyntre's blue pendant lay between my breasts, hanging from its black cord around my neck, and D'Shea's gaze lingered on it for a while. She reached out, lifted it up in her fingers and turned it over again. She tugged at it.

"Take it off."

I was loath to do so, afraid I wouldn't get it back, but obeyed, and she placed it with the rest of my tools on the table.

By the end, I was naked and in a position very much as when I'd first laid eyes on D'Shea in the candle chamber. She checked over my body clinically, paying attention to minute details without a hint of the erotic.

"Take hold of your ankles, Sirana. You remember."

I did as she commanded, immediately felt her touching my between my legs, parting my netherlips and studying my intimate flesh.

"She's raw. Did you mount her before bringing her here, Jaunda?" D'Shea asked.

"Yes, Elder," her Lead replied neutrally.

"Did anyone else?"

"Not that I saw, Elder."

There was a very brief pause as I imagined them sharing a look. The fact that D'Shea neither asked why Jaunda had fucked me nor admonished her for possibly destroying evidence—or whatever she was looking for—told me it had probably been part of Jaunda's own assignment. Did that mean the warning about telling D'Shea everything was part of it, too? Jaunda was being a bit of a hypocrite if it wasn't.

"Sirana? Did anyone else mount you on that hunt?"

"No, Elder," I replied, my head still pointing toward the floor. "No one else mounted me except Jaunda with her own Feldeu."

"Yes, we'll get to the one that's not yours. First tell me how many healing draughts you've taken."

I wished I could stand straight again; blood was rushing to my head and I fully understood the meaning of the position she'd placed me in, reminding me of my place. "One and a half, Elder."

"I see two empty bottles. You spilled some?"

"No, Elder. Of those two bottles, not a drop was spilled."

Obviously the math wasn't adding up, but she only noted it and continued without pursuing that tangent.

"All your weapons have been used, some poorly cleaned, and your leathers are stained. What blood is on your weapons and armor?"

"Duergar blood and Jael Aurenthietti's blood, Elder."

Again D'Shea was quiet a moment. "Three doses of your poison were used. Did you use any on the initiate?"

"No, Elder. All Duergar."

"How many received poison?"

"Three."

"How many were there total?"

"Seven."

"All dead now?"

"Yes, Elder. No survivors."

"Who killed the other four?"

"Panagan three, Aurenthietti one."

D'Shea paced some more before asking her next question. Meanwhile my head continued to pound.

"Several message pellets have been broken. Did you send any messages?"

"No, Elder," I answered, surprised to hear they were broken. "It must have been from my encounter. It was very physical."

"Any actual contact?"

"With one, yes. We grappled."

There was a pregnant pause as D'Shea absorbed that. "Were any Duergar present psionic that you knew of?"

"Yes, Elder. Three were psionic."

"And the one you grappled with?"

"One of the three."

"Did anything happen? Yes or no only."

"Yes, Elder."

Some of her underlying rage seemed to withdraw when she heard that, but again she didn't pursue that line of questioning. Jaunda would know D'Shea was being oblique referring to "something" happening with the psionic other than a fight, but apparently my Elder did not want to spill that pot quite yet.

D'Shea looked over the items on the table again, quiet and deep in thought.

"I haven't known a thing you've been doing for six entire cycles, Sirana, since your last visit to House Itlaun. Do you realize that? Again you never sent me any messages. That is unacceptable."

"Every event was connected to directives you've given me, Elder D'Shea," I said. "They happened too quickly to ask your advice, but I am ready to give you complete reports."

"Plural," she repeated. "Let's list the ones you owe me, shall we, in case I've missed any?" Her tone was the most sarcastic I'd ever heard it.

"Yes, Elder."

"First, Curgia."

"Ready when you are, Elder."

"Second, Rausery knowing about the Duergar before me." 

She left out part of it but I understood what she meant: the connection, my borrowed memory of them shifting loose somehow to push me to tell Rausery about the danger to Jael in the first place. I had fumbled in not telling D'Shea about my recent conversation with the other Elder, admitting to my encounter on my trial in exchange for information about the Surface.

"I will explain all of that, Elder."

She grunted. "Third, why you had Gaelan's Feldeu on your person during your first hunt."

"I can explain that, too, Elder."

"Oh, yes, you will. Fourth, your second encounter with Duergar."

"Productive, Elder. Look forward to that report."

She noted my optimism, but I was still too far in the dung to her for it to lighten her mood.

"Fifth, your hunt against Panagan, resulting in the recruit being captured and currently in Rausery's quarters."

"Exactly as you directed, Elder, with more gained to offer you."

"Indeed. And sixth, that gaurro you rode in on."

"Gaurro, Elder?"

"The white mount with cloven hooves and horns. It has a name. It's a creature bred by the Duergar, am I to take it that you stole it from them?"

"Yes, Elder."

"Any particular reason?"

"I couldn't walk, Elder. I needed something to carry me to catch up with Panagan."

"And you could guide it; it understood and obeyed your signals."

"Yes, Elder. As I said, a productive event. Command me when at your choosing, I will tell you everything."

Each of my answers had been without hesitation, saying outright that I intended to come clean with D'Shea. It was the best I could do in taking Jaunda's warning seriously about D'Shea being close to setting a compulsion on me to better control me—with my asshole still burning as a reminder. I could guess none of us wanted a compulsion spell, but I also didn't want D'Shea feeling like she had no choices left but to leave me with none. I was sufficiently alarmed by now to decide against any secrets I may have been intending to keep.

"Stand up straight, Sirana."

I did so slowly, dizzy and needing to close my eyes and let my head find its equilibrium again.

"Jaunda, please standing just outside. Make sure we are not disturbed."

I needed to see my Lead's expression and opened my eyes; she was looking at both of us, actually a bit wary. 

Jaunda said, "Please do not do anything irreversible, Elder."

Elder D'Shea looked a little surprised at the request, and how it was asked. Her tone hardened, however. "That is not your concern. Yours is guarding my door, and if Gaelan comes by, make her stay until I'm finished. I would speak with her."

Jaunda nodded, bowed and took her leave the door closing behind her.

"She never did agree with me about Gaelan," D'Shea murmured, turning her powerful gaze back on me again. "I take it you know where you stand? I will know all the details soon enough, but already know you've done several things of your own design without consulting me and at Rausery's benefit. I know that you know about Gaelan's inability to speak about my plans in detail."

I nodded, feeling a flutter in my stomach. "I do, Elder. I know."

"And you're still confident in the choices you've made?"

Even after a second thought, I nodded the affirmative. "Yes, Elder. There's more benefit than cost."

"As far as you know," she snapped. "We will see. First, report about Curgia. You let her see you?"

"Yes, Elder. In her plantation's gardens, after three cycles waiting."

"Then what?"

I recounted it exactly as I recalled it, including some boring details as I waited in the garden. D'Shea waited me out without interruption, and her expression became complex when I talked about Wilsirathon's possible response to a recommended change in Curgia's behavior.

"I see."

She was quiet for several long moments, and I second-guessed my thoughts about benefit versus cost on this very first report. I hadn't been told much of anything about what D'Shea wanted out of the Wilsirathon-Itlaun plot. Had I truly messed this up for her?

"You gave me no specific instruction, Elder," I reminded her preemptively, "and you've always expected more from me than following your word to the letter."

"I know."

She turned away briefly, setting her gently curled fingers to her mouth as she considered the possible shifts in events. "You gave Curgia a reason to live and cease seeking an end to her pregnancy. You gave her insight into the Priestess's actions, which you learned from me."

"Yes, Elder." I dared not say anything more at the moment.

"It has been a year, hasn't it?" D'Shea said quietly, almost to herself. "Wilsirathon hasn't waited this long before offering a solution to her prey in the past."

"It's...different, then, Elder?" I asked cautiously.

D'Shea nodded. "A little. I am going to want you to find out what becomes of Curgia's negotiations, Sirana. Even if you have to speak to her again. But not until I tell you, understand?"

"As you wish, Elder."

"Did you ask anything in return for your information?" she asked.

"No, Elder. I told her to expect something later."

She nodded; of something like that, I knew she could be satisfied. She was one to love having favors that could be called in at will.

"Second, why did Rausery know about your knowledge and connection to Duergar at all?" my Elder asked. "Why would she believe you when you came to her desperate for her help?"

I swallowed. "The last time you loaned me to her...we talked. I...she was irritated you hadn't taught me anything about the Surface yet but didn't seem like she would step in without knowing something that you were up to. Since it was my own personal challenge, nothing that was originally yours, I told her about the rape and that you'd been helping me with it, and thus we weren't focused on any Surface knowledge at this time. I didn't tell her the trigger was the Feldeu, however. She doesn't know any of that."

D'Shea nodded once, shortly. "And what did she tell you about the Surface now?"

"The Ma'ab. A bit about them, about how they became powerful capturing one of our Priestesses, that we were watching them. That's all."

My Elder still looked surprised. "She wants you for something specific, then."

"Like what, Elder?"

"A specific mission. I don't know what exactly, but she's looking at you." Before I could inquire further she sighed and rubbed her gold-touched temple before pinning me with her gaze again. "No more on that. Why did you steal Gaelan's Feldeu?"

I shifted my weight uneasily. "I...never intended to. Gaelan figured out you had initiated me on wearing one, she got me to admit it to her. She did a very good job persuading me to use her own Feldeu on her, so then I knew the command words."

D'Shea quirked a graceful brow as if to say, *Clearly you are not finished.*

I wasn't. "I was afraid to wear it, Elder...knowing what I've done to you and not remembered afterward. But...I...gave in, and I took her with it. It was...different. I remembered everything and stayed in control. Gaelan never knew about my struggle, just submitted to me."

She looked intrigued despite herself. "Interesting. Go on. Did you feel any pain?"

I nodded. "My head. Right side. But I also experienced all the pleasure and remembered everything."

She nodded. "How did you manage to take it without her seeing?"

"Jaunda interrupted us, saying a recruit had been collected and we were expected."

"That's why you were late." Her mouth twitched on one side.

I nodded. "We were trying to prevent Jaunda from seeing us, so were hurried. Gaelan didn't secure it and...I was the last one to leave the room. I picked it up."

"Impulse?" she asked.

I nodded. "It truly was, Elder. I know you will never believe it entirely but it was like...it was calling me."

She studied my face and body for several long moments before asking, "Did you use it after leaving Gaelan's room?"

"Yes, Elder. Thrice."

Her brows rose high. "Oh? On whom?"

This was skipping ahead a fair bit, but I answered the question, nothing more. "I stroked it by myself the first time, then I used it on a female Duergar, then on Panagan."

I had the insane urge to laugh at her expression and bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to bruise.

"*Female* Duergar? You actually saw a female of their race?"

"Yes, Elder."

"And you fucked her."

"Well...that's complicated, Elder."

She shook her head and her sigh was equal parts astonishment and exasperation. "Let's get to that in due time. First tell me what happened when you stroked the Feldeu. Did you cum?"

"Yes, Elder. But after I did, I was...immersed in thoughts that weren't mine. The knowledge you'd been after finally knocked loose, and that was when everything started happening so fast."

I had to back up a bit to tell her of my chat with Panagan while the Elders and Leads were gone seeing to Jael's trial, then my thoughts as I recalled them, and the reason I sought out any Elder I could at the time.

"Rausery decided to send Panagan and me after Jael to prevent the Duergar from killing her. Then we had to follow her, and if she made it close to the City, then—"

D'Shea nodded. "Yes, I know this part. I spoke with Rausery. Tell me everything that happened while you were out there, Sirana. Everything."

That took a great long time; my feet and back were aching as I stood and described everything to the best of my recollection. I answered her when she'd interject with questions, and she was most especially interested in my interaction with Lana. She was moderately pleased with my blackmail and domination of Panagan when I got to that part, also pleased that Jael had gone to Rausery just as planned, noting it all as per usual Drow politics—but she still went back to ask after Kain and Lana and anything else I recalled of my experience in that dwarven crawlspace.

When I was hoarse from talking and my head fully aching from trying to recall so much detail, D'Shea finally came close enough to touch me. She took off her glove and reached up to take my dust-coated chin in her hand, looking me straight in my eyes, studying me. She looked intrigued, and I told myself it was a good thing that she was not bored with my antics and that I had come out more positive than negative this time around.

"If the female psion was right...then we need do nothing else. You will heal your mind on your own and you will lose little of what you gained from that grey dwarf. Perhaps she's correct that you'll be able to recall their language and culture without wearing the Feldeu at some point."

"Perhaps, Elder." I still thought any memory would fade, given enough time or disuse, whether it was originally mine or not.

Her hand slid up to caress first my jaw, then to trace the edge of my ear. "I can agree with you, Sirana. Everything you did was focused on broad directives I have given you, even if your interpretation got a little creative. But you have always been good at thinking on your feet. You are more fearless and determined than many I've trained, and I like that you will claim all your actions. I've noticed only a few excuses here and there when you try to hide your true motives from me. But you'll learn, won't you? You don't need magical assistance, I take it?"

"No, Elder," I responded immediately.

"Good. Now, where you could fall, Sirana, is with over-confidence and recklessness. Never believe that you know better than me. Not until you are my rank and have lived six centuries."

I nodded, shivering slightly at her touch as it went from my ear down my throat. I felt my nipples harden in the free air. "Yes, Elder."

"I have to test that you understand what I'm saying, unfortunately," she said with a wry smile. "I have put her off for as long as I have been able, but no longer."

The potion from my struggle with Panagan had revived me well enough, but it had been a many cycles now and I was approaching exhaustion. Still, I refocused all my attention back on D'Shea. "Put off whom, my Elder?"

"Wilsira," D'Shea said with a sigh, caressing one of my breasts casually before standing back to place both her hands on her hips. "She has wanted to meet you. Has asked again and again since you were accepted into the Sisterhood. I've refused, and the Prime has had no reason to override me. However, we were only able to use the Draegloth to test Aurenthietti with Wilsira's permission, and in exchange, she wishes me to send you to her as an escort for a short trip she wants to take."

I was fully awake now, my stomach tightening. I understood without D'Shea having to say so that this had potential to be very dangerous. Suddenly my opinion of the Priestess was called into question; I had been told she didn't like me for controlling her son, even for that brief moment, but had assumed that her unwillingness to face me meant that she was weak, uncertain, intimidated by a younger, more attractive Drow.




Sufferance Ch. 09



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 2012

The story so far heavily references both "Sisterhood" and "Subterrane" and is very continued.

Not much to warn about this chapter except a philosophical question: You know "the enemy of my enemy is my friend." Well...when everyone is chaotic evil and all are enemies, does that ultimately make them all friends? ;) 

*

"Hello, Sirana. You are looking well since last I saw you."

I gave Lelinahdara a wry smile. "And you shine with Lolth's faith, as always."

She planted hands on her hips and shook her head once. "No Court-inspired lip service here, if you please, Red Sister."

I shrugged and gave a small bow. "I've almost forgotten the Court, Priestess. Why could I not simply be sincere this once, particularly to she who healed me with that faith?"

Now it was her turn for the wry expression, and she added an eye roll for good measure. "Because I know you. Now hush and follow me."

I did with a bounce to my gait, my stride long and my cloak flowing out behind me.

She was right, of course. This Priestess certainly knew the most about me excepting perhaps D'Shea—not only from the final ritual that had seen me through to the wilderness test, but also having witnessed certain side effects of holding on to a dying Duergar. 

She seemed the only member of the Priesthood with whom my Elder was willing to deal in more sensitive Sisterhood matters, and I'd just learned that Lelinahdara was in truth the official liaison between the Priestesses and the Red Sisters. Her birth name was lovely and simple: Tarra of House Leluin.

The Priestess's qualifications in her assigned position fell into place naturally, as far as D'Shea was concerned, in that she'd been just begun to study the more arcane magic after having served her Matron well in matters of politics for many years before receiving her calling. The strongest mage within the Red Sisters was of the opinion that Lelinah was multi-talented and well-rounded the same way she viewed herself...and to a lesser extent, the same way she viewed me. "Even had I any doubt of your potential before, Sirana, your conversation with the female Duergar proved it to me."

"Proved what, Elder?"

"You have the ability, at least, to perceive how your rivals and your enemies come to be how they are. Understanding that is the first step to anticipating them. It is the only reason I am even bothering to teach you about Wilsira and the Sanctuary. Otherwise I would just take my chances."

It had been satisfying learning more about the Priestesses right from D'Shea's mouth, out of sheer necessity. She could not go on her own time table this time; she had to throw a lot of detail at me quickly to prepare me for my temporary service with Wilsirathon, all so I may have some chance to avoid the traps she would set for me. It had been refreshing, like the few times I could talk with Rausery, and it seemed D'Shea could be very practical when she needed to be.

That wasn't to say I would not rather be watching and hearing about Jael's initiation—and participating myself—over being here in a true viper's nest, but if the circumstances forced my Elder to loosen her tongue for a brief time, then was a fair trade. The more I learned, the more confident I could feel that this wouldn't be my last assignment.

The Sanctuary was enormous and quite central compared to the smaller, more private cloister of the Red Sisters. Anyone at Court could see it looming next to the Palace, attached both in architecture and policy even though one would never mistake one for the other. The Palace had used a different stone, its energy pattern overall contained more straight edges and stately vertices than the softer molding and swirls in the view of its bigger sister. 

However, both were covered in ornate, carved decoration with many spider and web motifs of course, but also entwined with our most common objects of beauty: crowns and religious headpieces, long flowing hair, perfect bodies wrapped in silk or armed and armored with balance, decorations and jewels and of the more abstract designs, I saw more sets of piercing eyes than any other interpretive pattern.

I had entered through a backdoor to which I'd been directed, stepping into a less busy side of the Palace. I'd been told Lelinah would be expecting me, and certainly she was there the moment I placed my hand on the silent summons. 

From the inside, I could not immediately gauge or sense the same vast space that one could see from the outside—at least from this entrance. The halls and stairs curved frequently, and like our cloister there were no straight-shots that lasted longer than a dozen running strides. The ceiling was not high or the walls wide; I might use a dagger or a short staff, but no full-length swords or pikes.

It occurred to me that the place had a similar look and feel to the smaller rooms and more secretive meeting places from which I'd watched Wilsirathon dominate Curgia. I'd been told we'd been in the Palace, not the Santuary, but I wondered a bit now. If I could get a decent mental map while I was here, it might make the narrow, magical spyways offer more sense than to seem only buried and disconnected from the building itself... 

Although at the same time, that spyway was created as alternate pocket-space, not actual construction within the very walls and ceilings of the Palace. Places within those passages might not line up exactly with how these buildings had been constructed.

For the first time, I wondered what creative solutions the Priestesses had in place for keeping track of things going on inside their Sanctuary. Lelinah had certainly seemed to know the moment I had arrived, after all.

"Why the good mood, Sirana?" she asked now, her hips swaying slowly in her purple silk gown as I noted the same ornate black belt and ceremonial dagger I'd always seen her wearing.

"A rough ride upon waking," I said brightly.

She snorted delicately, her mouth widening in humor. "But your Sisters take anything nearby, and with high frequency. Is it still such a lift, then?"

"Absolutely. It's also another notch in my bedframe. It's become so thin it may crumble and send me to the floor one of these cycles."

Tarra laughed, as I hoped she would, giving up the topic with a shake of her head. "Well. Wilsirathon wished to meet you immediately upon your arrival. Do you need anything first?"

"No, Priestess. I came prepared. Even my bladder is empty."

Her eyebrows rose at the volunteered—and very unnecessary—information. "Very well." She chuckled again softly. "Keep the attitude, Sirana. You'll do fine."

Oh, yes, I would.

While the walls—and the rooms—of my cloister were for the most part bare and ascetic with only the essentials, those of the Sanctuary were colorful and decorative, lined with a tasteful amount of tapestries, banners, metal sculpture, and murals. Small tables existed for no other purpose than to display a figure or fine design, and there were quite a few more sources of water with regular, small fountains for drinking and washing (and probably blessing), and either smokeless torches or delicate candles.

It seemed I had come in at the back and at the foundation floor, as we went up three additional flights of stairs, and each floor from there had a different dominating color in the light; purple, gold, blue....I did notice that red was either missing or I hadn't found the floor yet.

I'd gotten used to dealing with less light on the whole, but the Sanctuary was well-lit by comparison—all the better to show off the beauty of their aesthetics. It brought back more memories of the Court and of my House and how accustomed I'd once been to candles and decorations just being there.

Now my mind catalogued them all as possible impromptu weapons or tools; as disadvantages or advantages depending on where I stood in any given room. How quickly things had changed.

I also anticipated the blue-themed floor, and heard the subdued voices of children and a few low wails of hungry infants as we passed through. D'Shea had told me there were young Drow raised within the Sanctuary itself, ones who did not leave until a Priestess bid it—and always for a particular purpose. These Drow were unknown to almost all of society, they belonged to no House and always found it hard to have any identity or status outside that which the Priesthood gave them. 

D'Shea would not tell me much of the how and why, but I'd correctly and easily guessed at least one purpose: the breeding and raising of the Consorts.

"Yes. Not the only purpose, however," D'Shea had said almost grudgingly.

"To raise and train more Priestesses?" I guessed.

"Always a possibility."

"Just a possibility, Elder? In breeding Consorts, wouldn't they need to do something with the females as well?"

D'Shea had shaken her head. "Their magic is too powerful for there to be a need to leave the sex to chance. They can select males, or a female if they wish. I cannot do that with my arcane magic."

I had blinked several times. "And... Rausery told me the Priestesses keep any children caught by the Red Sisters as well. Would they be among those on the blue floor?"

My Elder had glared at me; clearly she wished Rausery hadn't divulged that bit. "Yes."

"Are there any pregnant Red Sisters on that floor now whom I might see, Elder?" I asked.

"No. It's been quite a while since we've lost one of us to them. And don't ask whether there are any children of ours there now. That doesn't matter once they've been safely birthed."

She quickly changed the subject to Kerse and his mother I refocused willingly.

Lelinahdara paused in her smooth stride now, looking at me as I focused down the hall toward noise which I hadn't heard much of in my lifetime. Clusters of Drow children together were rare; if they were Noble offspring, they did not come to Court until they were grown and they were tutored within their own grounds. The business class and more common Drow kept their own blood close so they wouldn't be stolen away, and they could also make use of their labor and teach them skills. Drow children wanted to explore and interact with each other to a degree, but only in small groups, and some rivalries between those groups formed very early.

I had to think that, if I indeed heard perhaps a score or more of Drow children and infants now farther down this hall, then it was the single largest group of them that I'd ever been aware of in one place for any length of time.

How would such an upbringing alter them from the more typical Drow when they became grown? No single Matron to look to, far too many siblings—whether of blood or not, they were of an age—and little knowledge of the City outside of the Sanctuary. 

I could not think it would be good for seeing anything beyond the religious power—to know or discover that they were not the entirety of the world, as the Priestesses would like all to believe. It would certainly alienate these Drow, and it made more sense to me now that Auslan generally refrained from interacting much with House Itlaun except as he was expected. The rest of the time, he just watched and listened. And reported.

He was curious of some others of power beyond the Priesthood, though. He'd made that clear the last time we'd spoken. He was curious about me.

"Is there a problem, Sister?" Lelinahdara asked, and there was a layer of chill to her tone.

I shook my head. "I've never heard so many children in one place, Priestess," I replied honestly.

She nodded. "A necessity. We are very protective of them, Sirana, don't get too curious. We are only passing through."

And yet... had she needed to take me to this floor at all? I wondered.

"Not to worry, Priestess. My function doesn't involve children."

Ironic, that. Given how often it involved sex.

"Good of you to say. Come."

We went up another well-decorated, spiral stairwell, and as Lelinah gently touched a smooth, polished stone on the wall, I felt an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach, as if I'd just passed through into a spyway. More wary as I stepped out of an open, doorless exit, I was surprised to see this floor was dominated by whites, grays, and dark shades of near-black. I stood out in unfortunate contrast in my red uniform.

More of the tapestries contained scenes in which I was not sure at what I was looking. Lelinah allowed me to pause one so I could look more closely. I saw abstract, interpreted magic and energy flow, as if I was seeing with my dark vision, but also smears of red and orange. Somehow I understood that they were violent images, though the menace in them was often blurred with blackness. Not unlike Calling Darkness to force utter blindness in those all around. 

Like a void.

Then I understood. The Abyss. We were on the Draegloth floor, but I hadn't understood that to be only one floor up from the young, full-blooded Drow. It would be stupid to keep them so close; D'Shea had said it was not unusual for a Draegloth to try to kill a vulnerable youth in the Sanctuary, if given the opportunity. 

Why? The third-floor children were not of two bloods; that was all the reason needed for there to be jealousy and resentment toward the small, beautiful ones who looked so much more like their mother than the Draegloth did.

Except I knew the Abyssal floor was near the top of the Sanctuary.

"Twelfth level," Lelinah answered for me after a mere glance at my expression. "We skipped a few. They are private quarters, libraries, and the practical things even we must see tended to. You don't need to see them one by one."

I nodded, and understood that she could have led me to skip all floors except the stables and basement, where I'd entered, and this upper level. She'd let me see the main reception hall with a theme of gold, the offices in purple, and the childcare floor in blue before skipping to here. I made plenty of mental notes.

There were not quite as many decorations and objects of art on this floor; it was mostly banners and tapestries, plenty to look at but not as much to break or destroy. I could smell more scent up here, of larger bodies with greater heat putting off a greater volume of musk. It was not overwhelming, but it did not have the undertones of soap and perfume and general fastidious cleanliness than the other floors had had, excepting the stables.

The halls twisted for a while until I was sure we'd walked to the far side of the Sanctuary and I was led to a thick, double-wide iron door inscribed with runes and magical carvings.

"Was our last recruit tested here recently?" I asked quietly.

Lelinahdara was silent, her hand pausing before she rested it against her chosen panel. She glanced at me. "This exact place? No. The Fourth Daughter that the Sisterhood brought here faced them in an arena on another floor. She would have had an unfair advantage here; their magic is restricted inside this room."

Jael may have seen some of their magic, then? I'd have to remember that.

"Is this where they sleep?" I asked.

"They don't sleep. But this is where they are kept if their mother does not want one with her at a given time."

I frowned slightly. "I thought you were taking me to see Wilsirathon."

"I am. She likes this place."

The way Lelinah had placed a subtle stress on the word "likes" told me something...I decided first that Wilsirathon chose this place intentionally as a meeting place, and that she felt comfortable here. Powerful.

Perhaps if other mother-Priestesses neglected their horrid-looking sons, another one visiting more frequently might make additional bonds? Possible. I'd have to watch. Wilsirathon no doubt wanted me to get some sort of immediate message.

My guide rested her palm on the inscribed panel and murmured a chant I definitely did not understand. Something heavy clunked deep inside the doorway and it ground the floor far more than any of our typical sliding doors did. Slowly, only one side opened but wide enough for us to walk through single-file. Lelinah went in first with me following. It closed automatically after my boot heel just passed the threshold.

There was light in here, but it was odd. No candles, and the wall lanterns soldered and bolted to the stone glowed with a heatless, unsettlingly pale, white glow. Overall it was dim light, casting many shadows, and I would have preferred either more light or none at all. This half-way illumination felt more dangerous to walk through with sensitive, Underdark eyes.

I smelled plenty of them, heard shifting bodies and quiet hisses, at least one happy giggle, but saw none of them. I shut my eyes and stood listening to those menacing sounds, letting the subtle air move across my face, feeling the living energy. I could confidently place five of them in the room...and one was right over my head on the high ceiling.

I would not have been prepared without D'Shea's counsel, but she had pressed on me the importance of setting boundaries early on, and I had a bolt prepared for something like this.

Lelinah barely had time to raise her hand, a protest on her lips, as I withdrew my crossbow pistol and shot straight up over my head. I moved to the side, pushing the Priestess ahead of me, as the blunt head of the specialized bolt struck near the skulking Draegloth. The packet of sneeze powder burst on impact and the dust sprinkled down slowly to where I'd been standing. Even though my nose and lungs itched, Lelinah and I were out of the direct effect.

I had to say, however, that it was incredibly amusing to listen to a Draegloth go into a sneezing fit for a solid thirty seconds.

"Lolth bless you," I said toward the end of it with a broad grin on my face, confidence and strength loaded in my voice along with my good humor. "You might want to get off the ceiling now, Stripe. I have more, and I love the target practice."

Lelinahdara saw immediately that I had done nothing to injure the creature and relaxed. Her eyes watched some movement I couldn't see, though I could hear the scratching of claws along the stone. The Draegloth was moving toward one of the outer walls, away from me. Sure enough, soon he was climbing down and grumbling low in his chest.

I could see Lelinah's shoulders shaking as she covered her mouth with one hand, muffling what would have been full laughter if she wanted. It made me chuckle quite audibly, just watching her.

Whatever proud, revealing entrance Wilsirathon may have been planning, the mood had been spoiled. She simple walked out of the shadows at this point, elegant and poised, her face impassive.

"Tarra," she said. In her name was a quiet rebuke.

Lelinah shook her head slightly and took a breath, her smile still present; she did not look repentant. "Priestess Wilsirathon, I've brought your bodyguard for your tour, courtesy of the Red Sister Prime. She sends her regards and requests a confirmation message in return."

Wilsirathon nodded. "Give it to her. This one's service for five cycles is payment provided in full. You are dismissed."

Lelinah did not bow, but curtsied slightly and turned to leave. She met my eyes for a brief moment and I thought I saw an eye twitch—not quite a wink, but the intensity of her green eyes communicated the rest. She wanted me to hold up under Wilsira's tests and would do nothing to hinder me.

How nice to have a neutral sanctum within a Sanctuary of pitfalls. At least until we left on the "tour." Wherever that was.

The Draegloth in the room were quiet and tense as the Priestess opened the door once again and let herself out. When it thumped back into place, the sound echoing loudly in the stillness, some of the hisses of expelled breath were very eager.




Sufferance Ch. 09



"Hhherrr, too...?" I heard one whisper. "Wwe gett herrr?"

Wilsirathon made a gesture and the excited whispers quieted. She was waiting on me, I realized.

I bowed without taking me eyes off her. "Greetings, Priestess. I am reporting for my assignment, protecting your body for the next five cycles."

Her body, but I had no ability or obligation for protecting her mind. That would be coming from another source, D'Shea had said.

The Priestess nodded once, slowly. "Greetings, Red Sister. What is your name?"

"Sirana, Priestess. And yours?"

Her mouth twitched just slightly. "I am Wilisirathon. You shall call me Priestess while you serve. What is your House name, Sirana?"

I shook my head once. "I am of no House, Priestess."

"No longer," she corrected. "But once."

"You used the present tense, Priestess. I answered that."

"So I did, and so you did. I shall have to be careful how I word my questions to you, won't I?" She smiled, pretending to relax.

She was lying, of course. She'd worded her question deliberately. It was a simple disciplinary slip, but one that she could report to the Red Sister Prime if she liked. On that one account, she could demand another bodyguard as a vote of no confidence, and I'd be sent back to face the Prime's wrath for still embracing any connection to my past. It was one way for a spiteful Priestess to make trouble for me...but also the fastest way to get rid of me. Somehow I didn't think that was her intent; she may have only held onto the slip until a better time and kept me anyway.

"You will have a lot of questions, then, Priestess?" I asked.

She chuckled. "Of course. Won't you?"

"I have one, now you mention it."

"Oh? Ask it."

"What is your favorite entertainment? And is it more physical or spectating?"

She did not blink or betray any surprise or confusion at the question, but she also did not answer immediately.

"I believe you will find out."

"As a participant or observer? The Red Sister Prime set certain parameters, I believe."

A tiny crease showed in between her white eyebrows. "As I said, you will find out."

"Ah, but you never answered my first question, Priestess."

"I don't have to, child."

"Even when you granted me the asking? It does not guarantee an answer?"

"Correct."

"Duly noted, Priestess."

I let the silence settle a moment, having set my piece for a possible pay-off later, but I didn't need to use it now.

Wilsirathon watched me thoughtfully, her spider headpiece latticed over her gold-streaked hair. As she shifted, my eyes were briefly drawn to her silver heirloom belt shimmering around her well-curved waist in the ghostly light of the chamber.

"You are being rather antagonistic," she commented. "Would you rather be elsewhere? I heard you are not fond of those who are called to study clerical ambitions. Something about a... familial strain?"

The Draegloth around me hissed and chuckled in the dark.

"I serve as the Sisterhood bids, Priestess. All is well within our cloister, thank you for asking. And how is Kerse?" I asked. "I heard you—"

"Bite your tongue," she snapped, her elegant face twisting to a much harsher expression for just a moment before she caught herself and exhaled.

I went silent but smiled without showing my teeth.

"I have never been impressed by the Red Sisters insisting they no longer have families but for each other," she said. "It is a false shield they hide behind. One can't erase a century or more of upbringing and one *certainly* can't erase shared blood."

"Thank you for your valued opinion, Priestess."

She stared at me...or perhaps at my expression. "If you would laugh at me, Sirana, go ahead and do it."

"You first."

"I find nothing funny about you."

"A pity, Priestess, truly dismays me to no end. But I meant, enjoy a laugh at yourself just this once. It might give you an edge. We are competing for that edge, aren't we? Or we wouldn't be standing in a shadowy room throbbing with male heartbeats beholden more to you but their noses twitching and tongues drooling more for me, engaged in a lengthy conversation constantly sidestepping the real reason you asked for my service and generally spending all our valuable time shifting our weight instead of traveling. Where are we going, by the way?"

Her anger was no longer visible and there was no rising emotion I could detect as I kept talking. Instead of an increase in tension between us, I could sense that she was mentally stepping back from our confrontation, but not in retreat. She was reevaluating.

And she did smile. Then she chuckled.

Very interesting. I was going to bet what she would stubbornly refuse. She was nothing like Qivni, then.

"I'm delighted to have entertained, Priestess."

"I was thinking of something else, Sister. But I believe I will be." She took a few steps closer to me, and the copper-red of her eyes became more visible on the odd light. "I was not present when my son tested you, but I now believe the story actually has some weight. What did you think of him, then, Sirana?"

I shrugged. "I do not know him, Priestess. It was only the one short engagement during my trials, many cycles ago."

"But a memorable one."

I nodded a yes, suppressing my excitement and guarding my thoughts, just in case. She may have answered a question for me: had she set up my run-in with Kerse at the worship ball? Not likely, unless she simply was that good at hiding her thoughts. Based on the heated response when I said Kerse's name...I'd guess she was not.

"Well, then, Red Sister? If memorable, what was your impression?"

"He's smart, Priestess. And well-endowed."

Wilsirathon smiled more easily this time, but it was wry. "And it was as I've been told, truly consensual? You willingly accepted him and you both climaxed."

"Yes, Priestess. Given the circumstances, it was better to play the game than simply endure."

"Any animal can 'play,' Sirana. How did that imply he was 'smart' to you?"

I shrugged. "He hunted and fought well, he understood what I said to him...and he spoke to me. Given what little I knew about Draegloth before, I was impressed."

The Priestess's mouth tightened a bit. "Yes. He certainly knows your name."

"I never told him, Priestess. I'd always assumed he got it from my superiors, overheard it from them. I imagine you first heard my name from your son, then?"

Wilsirathon nodded, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Shortly after he was returned to me."

So the Sisterhood did not casually give the names of those being recruited or tested, even when asking for resources from the Priestesses. Very good to know.

"I trust you were not bewildered for long?"

Wilsirathon shook her head. "I found your name in the genealogy archives quickly enough." She smiled slowly, eyes never leaving mine. "I paid a visit to House Thalluen. One's birth mother can provide many insights into a child who sets herself apart." 

I maintained eye-contact but kept my reaction and my smile light. "Really? I set myself apart by enjoying an energetic fuck? Come, now, surely I'm not the only Drow to orgasm having sex with a Draegloth. You'd understand better than most, don't you, Priestess?"

One of her bejeweled hands closed into a loose fist and she took the remaining steps necessary to close the distance between us. Now I could smell her clearly; not as many floral or soapy scents as I might've expected. She smelled of incense, powdered fungus and herbs, and sweat.

I didn't move from my spot and let the heat of our bodies blend in the space between us. We were of a height; neither one of us needed to look up to the other.

"You flip between being direct and indirect," she commented. Her breath smelled of a recent, potent tea. "Your method is not focused. I would rethink it."

"The web calling the tapestry woven, Priestess."

"Hm," she smirked. "What possessed you to come in with this attitude?"

I looked confused. "Attitude? Even Lolth laughs, Priestess, and it's always a pleasure to see the Priestesses still need us."

I began to wonder whether Wilsirathon had ever visited my mother at all; or if she did, then my Matron had been very...obtuse...in answering any questions. The Priestess certainly hadn't seemed to glean that many insights into my personality.

"Indeed."

She walked past, her purple silk barely brushing me and the floor, distracting me, and when I looked up, one of the Draegloth had dissolved silently from the shadows and was leaping right for me.

Again, I had D'Shea to thank for the correct response to this. I could not stop myself from taking a defensive stance, but I forced my hands to stay away from the hilts of my daggers, my hands open. It took by far more energy to hold that position than it would have taken to roll to the side and bite deep with a weapon.

Claws dug hard into the stone floor as the half-breed stopped nearly on a coin in front of me, breathing in my face. I think I would have preferred the scent of tea I'd detected from Wilsira's mouth.

"He's got a rotting tooth, Priestess," I commented while still holding my gaze with the Draegloth's yellow eyes. "That, or he needs to chew on some sweetmoss or something."

Wilsirathon was silent behind me. I hated not being able to see her, but could not turn my back to this beast. I'd already found out what happened when I did that. This one wasn't Kerse, but D'Shea had described it being a general, expected response. They could hardly help but chase when something turned to go the other direction. And if a Priestess of some will didn't direct them otherwise...?

The Draegloth champed teeth at me and growled, and his hand movement down below highly suggested he didn't have a loincloth. I didn't look down to confirm, though; I didn't need to. His male scent wafted up briefly as he rearranged and caressed himself. 

As I stood in that face-off, two more Draegloth appeared in my peripheral vision, flanking me on both sides as they crouched down, ratcheting up the tension as it became much more difficult for me to stand still. 

Wilsirathon behind me, her pet beasts on the other three sides, and no escape.

In any other circumstance, I'd have done several things quite differently by now.

"Rather cruel to tease them, isn't it?" I asked.

The Priestess chuckled softly. "How do you know I am? What would you do if they attacked, Sirana?"

"If you were going to find out, you'd have already set them on me."

"Tempting. Wouldn't a hypothetical discussion be better than a true test?"

"It's not worth much. Such discussions never account for every factor."

"Indulge me, Sirana."

I smiled, still looking at the Draegloth in front of me, coughing delicately at his next smelly breath. "I'd send the costs of magical components needed to repair and clean my uniform to you personally."

She didn't really appreciate my answer; she forced a bit of a laugh. "Making the assumption, of course, of violence and victory."

"No, a much more basic assumption of contact, Priestess. And what purpose is there to imagine defeat?"

"Would you kill them?"

"No."

My true answer was, "Only if necessary," but I already knew Wilsirathon as sensitive to that particular subject. Something about the death of a Draegloth negatively affected his blood-mother, D'Shea had said, even if she paid little attention to him. The smarter Priestesses took some precautions to protect them, because they were protecting themselves.

The Draegloth to my left reached out and caressed three claws very lightly down my thigh; I actually didn't know if that was his initiative or the Priestess's direction. I didn't think she could instruct the demonbred motion-by-motion, like so many puppets, but...

When I didn't move—he hadn't even snagged my leather, after all—he shifted his path to curve long fingers around my hamstring toward my inner thigh. I was already as tense as I could be, legs spread in a stable stance that I could hold for a long time, but it was agony being so vulnerable—not so much due to his copping a feel as it was that a deep gouge at that large muscle would cripple me.

D'Shea had said she'd test my nerves; I believed that, but neither of us knew how far that would go. I may have to decide if I'd engage in a group fuck or a fight; I hadn't thought Wilsirathon would push it that far immediately upon meeting, but—

His control was too thin and his desire too greedy to resist pressing his fingers into the crotch of my leathers soon after exploring my thigh. Adrenalin entered my bloodstream, as did a sudden influx if arousal that both surprised me and seemed to give me some relief from all this tension. The touch was firm but less clumsy than I would have expected, and he purred low in his chest.

The rustles in the room increased and the Draegloth to my right grew bold enough to copy his brother, reaching to stroke my other leg and more gingerly play with my backside. The Draegloth in front of me finally broke our lasting gaze first, looking down to watch the entertainment, his nostrils flaring. With his gaze went even more of the tension and I sighed quietly. I admitted to myself that I was getting aroused by the attention. It was markedly better than having to stand still and staring.

The left-side creature withdrew his hand to sniff it, and his brother immediately replaced him, stroking my sex through my pants before also withdrawing to inhale my scent as well. The one in front of me rumbled and nodded, licking his lips and reaching to touch himself again with one hand while his other took its own sliding swipe along my cunt. All three touches were different and fanned the rising heat between my legs, long and slow.

It occurred to me that Wilsirathon couldn't see all the naughty detail; my cloak obstructed her view even though she certainly knew where they were touching. She may or may not know that the Draegloth facing me was openly masturbating; certainly she could hear it, though.

"Nice," I breathed, breaking the overall quiet and causing all three Draegloth to pause briefly before they returned their focus to everything below my waist. "Are they often this docile, Priestess?"

"Not often," she murmured. She sounded almost fascinated. "They would not remain so if I weren't here. They may not, even now."

"Mmm."

I took the risk to reach up and gently stroke my fingers through the mane of the one on the left who'd reached to touch me first. He flinched, but after a moment glancing up at me, returned his focus to sharing my nether region with his flanking partner. My gloves shushed through the coarse hair along his spine. 

The Draegloth in front churred at the sight and leaned down to nuzzle my crotch directly with his nose, snuffling as I felt his hot breath seep through the material. Meanwhile, the one on the right clicked in his throat as he started tugging at the leather ties on my right hip, clearly wishing the garment gone.

There was a distinct lack of fear on my part, as it ultimately had been with Kerse during my trials. I'd decided now that I would let them take down my pants. There was no way I wasn't climaxing from whatever they wanted to do, although I didn't think about what might happen after I pleasured myself with these three.

I supposed I'd just send the cleaning bill to the Priestess, as promised.

"Enough, stand back," Wilsirathon said.

I blinked, realizing my focus had softened significantly and at first I wasn't sure who she was talking to.

"STAND BACK!" she barked louder, clapping her hands and causing a deep report in the chamber.

The three Draegloth jerked to look at her, taking their hands away and shifting back from me, hissing in deep resentment at the interruption. I was briefly irritated as well; we were all going to be left frustrated.

I breathed out slowly, however, making eye contact with the one who'd been in front of me, and smiled; it was possible he tentatively smiled back before he recalled that he wouldn't be given the length to finish.

I sympathized, but at least I had a balm: I'd just won the stand-off with both Priestess and beast.

The Abyssal creatures continued to back up as I heard Wilsirathon stepping toward me, melting back into the shadows and unhappy with their pleasure outlet being blocked. The Priestess came up on my right side and only when she was next to me did I take my eyes from the half-breeds and look at her.

Her face was mostly contemplative, though her mouth was still tense as it stretched into a smile. "You'd have allowed them to mount you, just now. Isn't that right?"

I shrugged. "More than that, I'd have straddled them myself, Priestess. The foreplay was surprisingly good. Did you and your matronly sisters teach them that?"

She huffed softly and didn't answer the question. "We leave now. I have other matters to tend to."

By the shush of dismay that rolled through the deep shadows in between the glow, it was unanimous that the Priestess this time was a cruel and teasing slit.

****

Wilsirathon's quarters were only a floor down, on the eleventh, and they were easily the most spacious I'd seen; three times that of D'Shea's, which was three times that of the one I shared with Gaelan. 

It contained an ornate bedframe with posts and white, breezy veils forming a canopy. Both a wash basin and a tub were visible at one end of the room, with a built-in wardrobe nearby for however many ritual garments she owned. A vanity overflowed with jewelry and beautifying compounds, and candles protected by drafts by open domes of clear glass were evenly spread throughout the room. She possessed a small bookshelf as well, although it did not have the musty scent of age that D'Shea's did.

"Varessa coached you well," Wilsira said, and I blinked.

Oh, yes. Varessa D'Shea. I'd nearly forgotten my Elder's given name. I used my obvious confusion to my advantage; why not sow a bit of doubt?

"Of course." I was quiet after that, and the Priestess looked appropriately suspicious.

"What else did she tell you to expect?"

"Expect? What have I expected thus far, Priestess?"

"Non-lethal responses to the Draegloth, for one."

I shook my head. "I learned that through normal talk and gossip, Priestess. I have been in the Sisterhood for over a year now."

"And holding perfectly still when one lunged at you? Not drawing any weapons? What about letting them touch you so intimately?"

Again I shook my head. "Instinct and deduction, Priestess. You were comfortable in that chamber, so it had to be because you had enough control. I trusted you to control them, and I've heard how powerful you are and that they are your specialty." I grinned. "Were you instructing them somehow on how to pleasure me?"

"That was more instinct and conditioning on their part," she said, her eyes gliding down me once. "You showed no fear. You acted more as they are used to seeing a Priestess act. Though yes, I did want to see what you did when they laid hands on you."

Meaning, yes, the Priestesses had taught their half-breeds how to touch a female body. I couldn't be happier with all the information I was getting and how well I was doing.

Wilsira waved the subject away with her hand and she spoke casually. She did not seem to be putting on as much of a show as she had been on the Abyssal floor. "In any regard, we shall be preparing for my journey. As you are my physical guardian, you must also meet my magical guardian. You will be working together. That one will be here soon."

Working with one who was not a Red Sister. That would no doubt be annoying.

It was tedious to watch a Priestess carefully select her items and place them one-by-one in a many-pocketed trunk, so I was glad when there was a knock on the door.

"Ah." Wilisira smiled. "Enter!"

I watched with renewed interest as male drow in dark blue robes entered and bowed.




Sufferance Ch. 09



"Priestess."

He straightened up and saw me. We both went absolutely still.

*Fuck me to the Abyss and back...*

"You are right on time, Shyntre," the Priestess said with a wide, beautiful smile, her copper eyes twinkling. "It is good to see you again."

I was rather glad I had an excuse not to speak since she had not addressed me; I had some time to recover from the shock of seeing him. My wizard, on the other hand, had to wrench his attention from me back to her and take a breath. It shook a little.  

"And you, Priestess. Always a pleasure to serve you."

Except this time, perhaps. His eyes were furious though he kept his hands closed against any gestures.

My only true advantage to this was that my wizard was just as surprised as I was. It meant Wilsirathon didn't trust him enough to bring him in on the plot ahead of time, and if I knew his mind well enough, he'd think Wilsira had chosen me to deliberately mess with him, not the other way around. He'd think that he was being punished or challenged, not me.

When he looked at me again, I winked and grinned. I would have loved to watch his body's responses in the dark. Oh, Lolth, this was going to be interesting. If I was aroused before inside the Draegloth chamber, my blood was fairly singing in excitement now.

"You two have met already?" Wilsira asked, now sounding very amused. "Or shall I introduce you?"

Our respective sexes and our mouths were certainly familiar with each other, but—

"We've never been formally introduced, Priestess," I said, looking at her with an equally amused smile. "If you would?"

"Of course. Sirana, this is Shyntre, son of the Wizard's Tower and an accomplished scholar," she nearly cooed. "He has been studying for well over a century, and his specialties include invisibility, as I believe you're aware, but also short-time evocations, gem-imbuement, shielding and scrying."

She observed me so carefully as she spoke that I wondered if Shyntre wouldn't deduce himself that I was the target of her attention, not him. Perhaps the only reason he didn't notice was that he was clearly angry that I was simply being *given* his strengths and skills, and I wouldn't have to find them out the hard way. I might have doubted her on some points, except that Shyntre's response was so genuine that I had to take it as she said.

What had happened to make this one so angry? No Priestess liked to be glared at by a petulant male; why was it being ignored, now?

I gave a little bow to the wizard. "A pleasure to be introduced at last."

"Shyntre," the Priestess continued, looking to him just as he forced some better control over his expression to make it much milder. "This is Sirana of the Red Sisters. She's been a mere year with them thus far, but talented in the martial arts prior to that or she would not have been selected for their tests. I trust you'll understand my not divulging her particular specialties—"

Perhaps because she didn't know them.

"—although you're aware of their reputation for having insatiable carnal appetites, I'm sure."

Now that was a bit much, perhaps. I could be satiated. It was more that we had far greater endurance and a quicker physical response than the norm. We were expected to spy and attack in that manner as well.

Shyntre bowed stiffly. "Well met, Red Sister."

"I should say this clearly now, Sirana," Wilsira said looking directly at me, "that since you are both on duty at all times watching for my welfare, you'll not take your pleasure with him on our tour. Surely you can control yourself that long?"

"No need to disrespect the Sisterhood's competence or training, Priestess. I can, surely."

"No disrespect intended, but you *are* the youngest, after all."

No longer, I remembered, and made a mental sigh as I again thought of how I'd *still* rather be back at the cloister as Jael's initiation went on—even with Shyntre here. Wilsira wouldn't allow me to begin my vengeance on him now, so even that could wait a little longer.

"Have no fear, Priestess. Shyntre's various qualities will not distract me."

"Excellent, my guardian. I shall be most pleased with your service, then."

Finally it seemed as though the wizard was catching up; he looked far less angry and much more thoughtful as he listened to us and looked at me. I still smiled at him. Regardless of the restrictions and my preference for Jael over him, I could still see potential in having him so near to hand for several cycles. I could still learn much.

I wondered how long it would take him to ask for his blue sapphire back?

As our preparations continued and we approached the time to leave the Sanctuary, I began to wonder whether D'Shea had been wrong and Wilsira had no intention of bringing Kerse along on this trip. I hadn't seen him at all and she hadn't mentioned him since we'd talked about him in the Abyssal chamber. What might it indicate if she didn't? That she didn't trust either his or her own responses to me? That she intended to spring him on me at some point, as she did the wizard? 

And speaking of the wizard, I wondered now how often Shyntre might have served this particular Priestess. They knew each other from before, but I didn't know whether it was possible Wilsirathon had chosen the male Drow for my trials. Why would she? No, that made no sense; her influence wouldn't reach to the Tower or Army selections... unless I was missing something. 

I knew precious little about the wizard's past; where he had come from, of what House, if any. I was only guessing that he had been involuntarily moved to the Tower when his magical aptitude became known. It may not even be a far leap to think he might have originally come from the Sanctuary. It might explain his intense but impotent rage of a kind I'd never really seen in a male of "normal" society. It might also explain why he went dead silent when I'd had him in my arms before; when he realized I knew nothing about him. 

A former, fallen Consort, perhaps? He wasn't quite beautiful enough, I thought. Or a Priestess's son? Or both, sort of a "failed attempt" to breed a Consort? I didn't truly know just which wombs were used to breed the Consorts, after all; it was a well-kept secret, even though I had figured for a while now that the Priestesses had more than enough vanity to consider themselves the prime choice. It might also explain his particular hatred for the Red Sisters, being birthed and raised by Priestesses. "Your kind," he'd called us, voice full of derision and distaste. Somehow the thought of his having grown up fully in open society didn't fit him; either he had been taken away from his mother very young, or he'd never been out there. Even by Drow standards, he was warped.

When I ultimately got my chance to interrogate him—not likely on this trip, but it could help develop my plans if I was successful—I might get just as much pleasure extracting answers from him as I would using his body against his will.

"So what methods do you have for protecting the Priestess?" I asked Shyntre as we stood together, watching Wilsira move around her carriage inspecting it herself. We had already done so but if she wanted to look herself, but all means.

"You didn't listen, Sister?" he said, just short of the tone where I'd have had the excuse to strike him. "I can perform shield and invisibility spells."

"And short-time evocations. And imbuing gems. Tell me about both those."

As I watched his angry face in better light then I'd ever seen it before, he was actually fairly beautiful, just nowhere near Auslan's level. He'd look better if he smiled once in a while. For the first time I could determine his eye color; a dark, crimson red somewhat like Rausery's, although his contained flecks of gold. He also looked a bit familiar in the shape of his eyes and mouth, but I wasn't sure where—or even whether—I'd seen the traits before or if he just looked like someone I'd known. I had many male faces with which to compare his, after all.

Shyntre breathed out. "The first is a simpler form of evocation that can be cast in a fraction of the time. The effects are normally small but if played right, can be nearly as deadly or distracting."

"Like whatever you threw at my head in the Tower?" I asked with a smile.

He grumbled. "Yes. It would have stunned you for several moments if it had struck you."

"It wouldn't have stopped me, dear wizard," I said sweetly. "You'd have still been dragged along the floor. Although nice to have a better idea of the level of damage we can do to each other and expect not to be killed for it, hm?"

I saw him swallow. "It was all I could cast at the time."

"Making excuses? Are you trying to say you didn't *think,* wizard?" A quiet laugh escaped me and he shot me an annoyed glance.

"You don't know enough of magic, I see," he said haughtily.

"Then tell me about the gems. Can you imbue any stone or gem? Onyx, sapphire, quartz? What do you imbue them with?"

He looked at me and his eyes flared with heat as he stressed the first word. "Sapphires... are quite good for imbuing. Quartz it too brittle. And only certain spells use onyx."

"What do you do with them?" I asked.

"It's like having a spell, or the strength to cast one, suspended in time and available call on demand, but only those with at minimum the ability to call Light or Darkness could use them. They are hard to make and expensive," he added quickly, "that's why you don't see imbued gems scattered across the City. Mostly I am called on to make light, healing or beautification gems, or one for simple stored energy. The Valsharess has forbidden highly destructive gems to be made and the materials are difficult to collect anyway."

"Talented wizard," I cooed, smiling slowly and suggestively at him.

He lifted one nostril. "So mere talk of my work arouses you?"

"The simple fact that you are breathing arouses me, Shyntre." I reached to pinch his backside but he stubbornly refused to react by flinching or jumping.

"How mindless," he commented. "But only what can be expected of your kind, isn't it?"

"Thank whoever taught you to feast between female legs so well. I'd like to see what else you can do with that mouth."

He didn't have time for a reply as Wilsira called to us and I responded well before he did, striding away from one enemy toward another.

The carriage was loaded and stocked for a seven-day journey, just in case. The spidery black metal of the wheels were well-formed with suspension capable of absorbing shocks on the road. There was a decorated enclosure with padded cushions for the Priestess and up to three more to sit in comfort, the carriage's rear and underside balanced with what she was carried with her. 

The four beasts pulling this load weren't lizards; they didn't have the back muscles for this. We used a species of more rare omnivores in the Underdark, Uroans—rare because of the expense needed to keep them fed. Four-legged with wide, clawed feet, and capable of keeping a gallop for brief periods and maintaining a brisk walk for eternity, they possessed broad shoulders, short necks and faces, and a soft, moisture-sloughing brown coat we rarely needed to trim. The snouts barely long enough to root in the dirt for additional nibbles and the eyes small and mostly useless. They guided themselves by smell and possessed excellent balance—and our harnesses gave them direction.

The Priestess and the wizard both got inside the carriage and still I did not see Kerse. I had to decide that he wasn't coming after all, which would help provide fewer distractions, but also possibly less information as well. 

The Drow driver climbed atop the carriage to guide the beasts, and I was given a lizard to ride alongside them—Wilsirathon wanted me seen by the public, apparently, and I didn't debate with her the wisdom of maintaining any element of surprise. I could believe that Wilsirathon only wanted the entertainment of being escorted by both me and the wizard on this tour and our respective functions were a mere precaution. She wasn't expecting any sort of real trouble or danger.

Not that I wouldn't be a fool and a failure as a Red Sister to think I could let down my guard. A bored and jealous Priestess with no outside danger to distract her? More than enough reason to put myself on high alert, regardless of my teasing and flippant attitude toward both of my traveling companions. Let them think everything rolled off my back easily as water; I would not have my own emotions used against me if I could help it.

I was definitely not used to being so visible as we moved down from the rulers' rise and into the winding streets of the City itself; it seemed nearly every passersby noticed me riding alongside the coach. They knew well what a Priestess carriage looked like even if they might not know who was inside, but a Red Sister riding in plain view with it apparently wasn't an everyday occurrence. Some stopped in their tracks, some slowly retreated while trying to be discrete about it, others only watched warily as they moved on their business. Only the very young pointed at me, often right before an adult slapped their hand.

"Do not raise your hand in such a manner," I heard one mother hiss, shaking the youth's arm. "They assume you are preparing to attack and they kill disobedient children like you!"

Well. A few other factors went into that deduction and ignorant child deaths were far more rare than those of the adults, who usually earned it, but who was I to interfere in some traditional passing on of legend when it maintained my order's reputation? 

I noticed now, much more than I had as a Noble, how many non-Drow slaves, servants, and independents which were present as well, and what kind. Gnomes and their distant relatives, the Peches, a few rare Duergar—hard-earned slaves from the look of it—but many more of their weaker, lesser relatives, the Derro. 

Different from all of them were the fish-headed Kuo-toa, an aquatic race that worked hard to maintain mutually beneficial relations with us by trading deep water resources for those of agriculture and mining. Drow were still the majority of any single race on the streets, at perhaps five out of ten. Still, there were a lot of individuals that were integrated and useful in the City, likely the very reason Wilsirathon could lounge so pleasantly in an elegantly designed carriage pulled by four Uroans in the first place. 

Drow worked and plotted, but we had also found many ways to take advantage of the greater productive capabilities of other races, if we could find out what it was they wanted most.

"S-SPEED FOR A CLIFF, M-MONSTRESS!"

I looked toward the stuttering shout, pegged its owner, and evaluated quickly: a female Drow in a thin, dirty gown, middle-aged, hair shorn very messily, no weapons but for a tired, old eating knife in her right hand; her energy was extremely unhealthy and her gestures unfocused.

No threat.

Wilsira leaned cautiously out her window as the driver slowed the carriage. I looked up and around, just in case this was a distraction for something bigger.

"L-LOLTH'S WHORE IN THAT C-CARRIAGE! M-MAY YOU ROT IN THE B-BELLIES OF D-DRIDERS!"

The Priestess frowned and said to me, "Silence her."

I quirked an eyebrow but withdrew my crossbow pistol and aimed it without reply. Those on the street moved fast, darting to get out of my line of fire, and the crazy Drow was just within range. I fired at her feet, and my second packet of sneeze powder burst open quickly enveloping her. She not only sneezed but was caught in alternating choking and coughing as well. She must have inhaled as much as was even possible; that, or she was truly in bad condition. She dropped her dull knife to the ground.

After the cloud had dissipated enough, I pricked the lizard forward in its customary burst of speed, bearing down on the dissenter and plucking her up by the hair. She shrieked as I folded her over my saddle and kept moving into the inky shadow of an alley. Once out of sight, I directed the lizard up, selecting a fairly easy path for it to climb as I held on to her tightly. She smelled as though she hadn't bathed in a long time.

I stuffed a cloth into the older Drow's mouth, which at least muffled her ranting and squealing as we climbed. In perhaps twenty seconds, I had enough height to still be able to see the Priestess's carriage while at the same time fewer on the street could see me—if they even knew where I'd gone with my victim—and none could interfere. Meanwhile, the driver continued moving forward without me; a good move, but I had maybe thirty seconds before I'd have to start jumping across smooth and curved rooftops to keep them in sight.

"Pshshesh dugh!" the squirming female said through her gag.

"What?" I chuckled, pulling the soggy cloth out and stuffing it between her dress and shoulder in case I needed it again. I certainly wasn't putting it back on my belt.

"P-Priestess's dog!" she spat again. "She s-sent you to find me?"

"Who's she?" I asked.

"The c-cunt who f-fed my child to the Abyss! She didn't d-do anything wrong! My d-daughter...!"

She sobbed, her jaw quivering as she struggled to breathe over the saddle. She tried to get up and I pressed my hand to her back. It took little effort on my part to control her; she was very weak. The constant stuttering, the way she trembled, and the fever coming off her body all implied she'd already been poisoned.

"And you are?"

"J-just kill m-me! N-need my ears a-as p-proof, h-huh?"

Something like that. I glanced at where the carriage moved down the street. No troublesome figures followed them, and only now were individuals cautiously coming back out from where they'd hidden when I'd charged forward to snatch my prisoner.

"Give me your name, and the name of your enemy," I said. "Maybe you'll live."

Except she wouldn't. We both knew that.

She wept as I'd never seen a Drow weep before, and just then I could see naturally-healed lash marks peeking out from her neckline. I hooked one finger to lift it up so I could see farther down her back. I saw actual scar tissue marring her flesh and obstructing the normal flow of life energy. It would have taken weeks to form those, and the entire time healing draughts had to have been kept out of her reach.

"Answer me. Your name."

"Daleina...M-merchant."

"And the cunt in the carriage you want to see die?"

My writhing prisoner growled. "T-Tushendathon."

That was a title, and not a Drow I knew personally. Nor was she the Priestess I was protecting right now. Mistaken identity. I thought as much, although it wasn't out of the question that Wilsirathon might still be involved somehow. "And, again, what did she do to your daughter?"

"Ab-abducted r-right off the street! Know it was h-her because...received a s-summons. W-wouldn't p-pay so was whipped and k-kept."

"And they just released you, Daleina?"

"N-no...I escaped."

"When?"

"Y-you know! S-sent you...only m-marks ago... P-poisoned my l-last meal, assumed I'd die of it in p-prison...I d-didn't! Now—"

"Now you've gone insane to be yelling at a Priestess carriage on a street corner."

"I w-wanted them to know! I w-want them—" This was followed by an incoherent wail and she shook her head as if trying to dislodge a spider that had crawled in her ear.

"Know what, Daelina?" I said, taking her hair to force her face to look toward me. Her eyes and cheeks were sunken, her eyes dull and flicking unfocused at all points around her.

"T-they're f-feeding them...our ch-children...to...d-demons..."

"How old was your daughter?" I was hesitant to take her description literally; she was out of her mind and probably hallucinating from the poison and abuse. An age might make a difference in possibilities.

"S-she just ch-chose a sire...wanted...ch-ildren...her own..."




Sufferance Ch. 09



Grown, then, not a youth.

I had to turn then and start navigating the lizard over the rooftops; I'd lost sight of Wilsirathon and that wasn't good. The older, dying Drow continued mumbling but she got less and less coherent. Something about swapping unborn children, abominations, more eating and birthing and eating again. It painted a gruesome picture but I didn't know what to make of it.

Daelina continued to weaken, the slow poison finally catching up to her as I caught up to the carriage. Her ranting had stopped and it was only a matter of time before her breathing did as well. I didn't really have to do anything to her in order to "silence" her, and I didn't care to bring Wilsirathon any body parts when I could just bring her the whole thing.

Wilsirathon leaned out of the carriage when she heard me come alongside her again. She had been smiling and seemed about to say something but blinked at the body still slung over my mount. Then she frowned. When I came closer still, she leaned back, wrinkling her nose.

"What are you doing?"

"She's silenced, Priestess. I gathered you didn't want me to just leave her body smelling up the City streets for enemies to find?"

"And just what are we going to do with it, Red Sister?"

I shrugged. "Identify it? Report it?"

"I already know who it was. An annoyance, nothing more."

I smiled. "Aren't there others searching as well? She looks like a prisoner escaped."

The Priestess shook her head, bringing up a scented cloth to cover her nose and mouth. "I'll send a message once we reach our first destination. We don't have time now. If you would drop that diseased thing somewhere else and dispose of it, Red Sister? Maybe *your* immunity is heightened by magic, but your mount's isn't and neither is mine or Shyntre's."

A decent point. Daleina didn't smell healthy. The Priestess was right about my own strong immunity, though: it was a gift given from the Red Sister Prime when we earned our reds. We rarely became ill, even exposed to some of the seedier places of the Underdark. Not impossible for us to contract something, of course, but it wasn't the highest concern on our mind when we were hip deep in excrement—only sometimes figuratively. If we had to go there, we went there.

I chuckled and turned the lizard away from the coach, Daelina's head lolling and her body unmoving.

The population crunch loosened as we got out of the center of the City, and I stayed farther away from the carriage while keeping it in sight. My mount had to deal with the scent of dead flesh a little longer. A few times, he tried to turn his head back and nibble on a leg, but I struck his nose with a crop each time. 

I no doubt held on to the body much longer than the Priestess preferred I did, but that was part of why I'd done it—as long as I had it, I could stay away from her because that's what she ordered. 

I was also looking for a place that wouldn't poison a soil or water source, or sicken kept beasts which might find and eat it. It was more difficult than one might think finding such a place. The meat was not good for scavenging, after all.

At least it gave me some time to think.

If the rants were even remotely true—and I may yet find out if Wilsira knew something about this prisoner—then why steal a merchant and her grown daughter by force? It was not beyond the Priestesses' resources, but it seemed...clumsy. They could not have convinced the mother and daughter to come along willingly? They had to abduct one and blackmail the other into coming to see them? They had to do it in exactly the way to create the most rebellion and resistance possible?

It made little sense to me. Perhaps the old Drow had simply been insane for another reason, pushed to create her own personal cause, her own grief, and her own enemy on which to focus her rage—all in the delirium of her mistreatment and toxic blood. The symptoms of the poison, especially the stuttering, indicated a rough distilling of a particular mushroom that I rarely had cause to use in my line of work. It worked far too slowly and I had access to much better ones that incapacitated my targets in more precise and predictable ways. This one was cheaply made and sometimes the victim didn't even die because it required multiple doses.

As I said: a clumsy assassination. I knew the Priestesses had much better resources than to have to resort to what had been done to this Drow. All the physical details matched a mere unfortunate prisoner, condemned to die slowly—and it could have been for any slight, any rivalry, any revenge. If Wilsirathon hadn't acknowledged knowing of her, I'd have been willing to believe it had nothing to do with the Priestesses at all.

I stopped at an outcropping of bare rock as we crested a small hill and checked for a pulse one last time. I didn't find one so dismounted before pulling the dead weight off to lay it on the ground. I took an extra moment to check her body for any unique marks or items, but saw only the scars and found no possessions.

She couldn't be left for the scroungers, so I plucked out a small bottle of accelerant, dribbling a potent, clear liquid on the hair and clothing before switching out for simple flint and steel and climbing off my mount. I had received enough practice in the last year using this cheap method of gaining fire to get a spark ignited within a handful of seconds. It was a handy skill to have, though I'd never learned it as a Noble.

The lizard hissed as soon as it smelled the first wisps of smoke and I remounted quickly, moving away only far enough to watch and make sure the fire took. I had to look away when it flared suddenly to higher heat and began charring the flesh, and my eyes watered from the brightness I'd set in the enormous cavern. My nose and ears and skin all told me the fire was strong and would not go out until it had finished all its fuel, so I set to catch up again to the carriage.

******

We were headed to visit three different Houses. I learned this only after we'd only begun approaching the first one. We were to pay respects to the Matrons and Wilsira to discuss whatever business she had with them. We would be spending one reverie in each place, and two in pre-selected inns that knew how to cater to a traveling Priestess.

"It does make it more difficult to protect your body when I don't know where it is going earlier than this, Priestess," I'd commented at her window.

She chuckled. "You failed to ask earlier."

"Ah, but I did ask, Priestess. You failed to answer."

She gave me a sardonic grin. "I don't fail, I choose."

"I'll bear that in mind, Priestess."

She harrumphed. "You responded most creatively to that threat back at the City. I don't think long planning would help much, as it changes often. That's why I have faith in the Red Sisters' training."

Undoubtedly.

"She was no threat, Priestess," I said blandly. "Just loud."

"Well, we like quiet, don't we?"

"So who was she?"

Wilsirathon sniffed. "Why would I know?"

"You said so, Priestess. An annoyance, as I recall."

"That's what all prisoners are."

I tilted my head; she sounded like a Noble-nosed bubble head. "You're smarter than that, Priestess."

Finally she seemed to drop whatever attitude she'd been trying for and narrowed her eyes at me. "Not open for discussion, Red Sister. Now mind your tongue and your duties."

Given that Shyntre was staring at us from deeper inside the coach, I got the message and dropped it. I had enough ammunition from Daleina's own mouth to start it up again anytime I wished.

Our first stop that eve was House D'Verin, the Ninth House at present, and the closest one to the City. They had also been the Noble Family who had previously been gifted Auslan, back when I'd found him on that tiny farm the previous year. As I recalled, D'Verin had been awarded a different Consort at the most recent worship ball, the one with purple eyes.

This solidified for me part of the web of connections to which I was always adding. Wilsirathon connected to House Illuen, who was given Auslan, but previous gifted to D'Verin—which was now also being visited by the same Priestess who awarded him to Illuen. Obvious, yes, and hardly secret—I was not the only one taking notes at the worship ball—but I wasn't sure how many Nobles or Matrons knew whether a particular Priestess watched over a particular Consort.

That was what I was trying to find out. I didn't know who had awarded Auslan to D'Verin in the first place; that would have been a decade ago and, while I had been there at the time, I hadn't noticed a damned thing. I'd been too busy stuffing my cunt with glee deep in the audience. That could be an indication that only a few younger Nobles really paid attention to the motives beyond status, reward, and breeding—or only that I was unusual enough to in my appetite to draw the attention of another order entirely.

It was probably the latter.

This gave me ample warning as well that we may be heading to House Illuen on this tour. Wouldn't that be a balancing act? Curgia and Auslan, who both knew my face, with Wilsirathon and Shyntre. All of us in the same spot.

If I didn't know better, I would think the Priestess knew about my spying on her and Curgia, and of my connection with the Consort, and she was doing this on purpose. But I had reason to think she didn't know about my second run-in with Kerse at the ball, which meant she likely also didn't know that I'd watched him breed Curgia. 

There was also no way she could know about Auslan unless he'd betrayed his agreement with the Sisterhood. If he hadn't, then it was just coincidence. Granted, not a coincidence that helped my situation, but I wasn't about to get paranoid before I had more evidence from somewhere that I should worry.

Ideally, though, Curgia and Auslan shouldn't see me with Wilsirathon. That would only make things more difficult...

"I can appreciate keeping me on display like a grand gesture, Priestess," I said through the window as we rolled along the road. "But may I suggest I do what I do best and watch from shadows while you deal?"

"Nonsense," she replied. "How would you guard my body being in another room spying from a peephole? You are a far greater deterrent when they can see the reds, my dear, and far more effective at your function if you can cover me in an instant."

She had the stronger argument, I had to admit. Perhaps there was no real way to avoid being seen by those at House Illuen. 

What I was concerned about, however, was Wilsirathon gleaning much more information about some of the Sisters' recent doings at that House and unveiling Auslan as compromised. Oddly, I didn't worry about Auslan himself giving it away; he was skilled at what he did and plenty smart enough to see the layers, given what he knew.

It was Curgia that concerned me. She wasn't a quick study in the first place, and she did not have the benefit that the Consort had of knowing some of the background and having a lot more to lose. If her first sight of me made it clear that she'd seen me before, Wilsirathon probably wouldn't let it go until she knew why.

That could get messy, rather quickly.

"As you wish, Priestess."

"Not thrilled, I see," she said playfully. "Am I that distasteful? Or too old for your taste, perhaps?"

I gave her an odd look, then smiled. "Not at all, Priestess. I'm sure even Shyntre would agree with me, you carry your wisdom well. Do you dance?"

She laughed, and for an instant I wondered whether it had been genuine. "Every cycle."

If nothing else, I pulled up the cowl on my cloak to establish a pattern going to the first House, so by the third House it would not be thought twice.

"Ah, adding mystery," she said smoothly from the coach. "I approve. I hadn't realized you were so shy after your stunt in the City, Sirana."

I chuckled, part of my periphery blocked by the cowl but with the trade that, as she'd said, there was more mystery around my face. "You tease, Priestess. I only consider my own Elders' wisdom here."

"Indeed." She sounded intrigued and I was sure the wizard leaned forward. "What wisdom is that?"

"Always leave the Nobles wondering who is watching."

******

I found that I rather enjoyed being exempt from all social expectations. While Wilsira and Shyntre did all the bowing and gestures and traditional words at House D'Verin, I could just stand and watch. I was not introduced, and no one asked my name; furthermore, few spent more than a moment looking at me before their eyes drifted somewhere else. Most of my weapons were covered by my cloak, my hands just out of view as I stood near to Wilsirathon—but not too near.

I was the dragon in the room, and everyone ignored it.

The disadvantage was that no one was behaving naturally, and all were watching their words carefully. The chances of me learning anything useful or truly secret were almost nil, and I had to work harder to occupy my mind and keep from becoming bored or complacent. It was amusing, seeing them shift and turn over every word that left their mouth for possible offense, but...it would grow old quickly.

The main interaction of interest for me was when the Priestess asked to see their Consort. They brought the beauty down promptly enough for me to know that he had been waiting for the summons, and he stood before the Priestess so she could see he was still in excellent health. He looked like he could have been Auslan's cousin, although his eyes tilted differently, and of course they were that fetching lavender color that I'd only seen in silk before.

The Matron D'Verin had caught from him quickly, it seemed, the bump at her middle only somewhat smaller than Curgia's as I'd seen last. Neither of her daughters were pregnant, however, and from the covetous looks on their faces, I was guessing the Matron was keeping the Consort to herself.

It did occur to me as well to keep an eye out for a young Drow here that may have been sired by Auslan the previous decade. Such a one would probably be kept to a nursery and not included in any adult conversations, so it wasn't likely I'd see her, or him. But I was still curious.

Soon we retired to the library where only the Priestess and the Matron—and me and Shyntre—were present to discuss some plans and goals for House D'Verin where the Court was concerned. I did pay attention to that. The short of it was weighing the potential magic ability in Daughter Number Four versus the beauty and charm in Son Number Three in trying to gain access to some part of House Number Eight's financial records.

Matron D'Verin had a very large family compared to mine. No wonder we had been slipping when I'd left; we didn't have the resources of these higher Houses.

But then, that was assuming that they were all working together—which would have been a fantastic tale. It was a given there was competition within the family, and the larger the family, the more potential for failures due more to self-sabotage than being out-witted by the adversary. 

The thought that the upper Houses maybe retained their power because they in fact took fewer actions overall—letting those hungrier below them eat and stumble over each other—was a theory that made me laugh.

I could see more of my Sisterhood's strengths in how we were trained as well. It didn't negate our nature or our upbringing, but at least we could put the mission first before we turned on each other for rank within our "family." Even then, we wouldn't kill each other. There was a cohesion there that was lacking in the Noble Houses, possibly because we had the right outlet, and the right tools given to could fuck out all our frustrations. The natural mentality of anyone chosen had to be compatible with the Sisters, of course; the drive for sex had to be high regardless, if not the highest of motivations, or it wouldn't work.

I reflected, looking briefly between the Consort and equally untouchable Shyntre, that after missions like this one, no wonder Jaunda had returned only wanting to mount the youngest Red Sister she could find. I could think that my supplying the mounting, even with various levels of consent, had strengthened the bond between a veteran and one less experienced. Somehow it still kept us whole.

No demons but us, because with each other we could be free of the constraints elsewhere—such as here, in this situation. Protecting a Priestess I'd rather see attacked, with long cycles watching and unable to prowl much around a wizard for whom I'd been searching a year now, and forbidden from such distraction even with a more forgettable male—all after being felt up by three Draegloth and gaining no release from it.

I really needed a good rut to clear my head. If Wilsirathon knew this (she likely did), then she'd chosen her traveling companions well. This was only the first cycle, and I could look forward to very little sleep.

"Good. We agree, then," Wilsirathon said, uncurling herself from her comfortable chair. "Now if you'll excuse me, Matron, I believe I will take a brief respite before we dine. It was a tiring ride here."

Matron D'Verin stood along with her and bowed her head. "Certainly, Priestess. We look forward to the grace of your company. Please allow our serving boy to show you to your quarters. They are even more comfortable than last time." Our hostess paused. "Are you sure you would not prefer separate quarters for your wizard? I can provide them."

"I am sure, he will stay with me. Goddess blessing, Matron."

As we were led down the spacious and decorative hallways of the House, I proved almost more distraction than our poor serving boy could handle. Barely an adolescent Drow, he kept looking at me in brief, darting glances, perhaps trying to see farther into my cowl, even to the point of nearly leading us down the wrong path.

"This way, boy," the Priestess said irritably. "I know where I rested last time."

"Y-yes, Priestess. Forgive me." When he finally found the correct door, he unlocked it, went inside to make sure no one else was there, and returned out, handing the key to the Priestess. "The call cord is by the bed...um...should you need anything else...uh...Priestess."

He'd looked twice at me, and forgotten his speech twice. I supposed it didn't reflect too well on the Matron and preparing her selections on who would serve whom. I wondered if the Priestess would complain just to cause trouble for the boy?

Wilsira looked directly at me with a level of amusement that only barely covered her initial irritation. "Perhaps you should simply take him, Red Sister, and satiate his curiosity."

Fear flashed across his wide eyes as he swallowed and his face emitted a lot more heat all of a sudden. He began to stutter something when Wilsira cut him off.

"About your duties. Before you irritate me further."

"Yes, Priestess!" He bowed and left quickly on both counts.

Only after I'd swept the room a second time and called the two of them in, only after she'd closed and locked the door, did she laugh out loud.

"Oh, my," she chortled. "I am rather enjoying having you at my side, Sirana. And bravo for staying so silent. I've never seen so many off their game before. Even the Matron was easier to guide in our conversation than she's ever been. Perhaps I will have to get a Red Sister for my future journeys as well!"

Like the Abyss she would.

"We're rather busy most of the time, Priestess," I said.

"Never too busy for repayment of favors, I'd wager."

"Overuse us as escort, and it will cease to have that effect," I shrugged.

"I'll enjoy this to the utmost, then." She sighed and moved over to where her trunks had already been place for her convenience. She murmured a command word and I heard something click before she lifted the top. She began to undress, placing her things gently inside the trunk as she removed a few others; soap, towels, a silver brush.




Sufferance Ch. 09



"I will bathe now," she said. "I'd like some privacy. You two will remain here."

I wasn't entirely against this idea. "Just don't lock the door. Watch for spiders in the tub."

She gave me a look. "You sound like my mother."

I grinned. "It's sound advice."

She harrumphed again and led herself to the bathroom, closing the door. I did not hear a click, but once I heard water running, I stepped over to test the old-fashioned handle anyway. It turned fully and was unlocked. I let it go without opening the door.

Shyntre hadn't said a word for hours as he stood or sat by the Priestess once we'd arrived, and he was crossing his arms and watching me right now. His expression still conveyed stubborn dislike, but he looked about to say something.

*Yes, wizard?* I signed. *What is it?*

*Give it back,* he returned, taking the hint and remaining speechless.

*Give what back?*

*My pendant. I know you took it.*

I slowly raised an eyebrow; I'd already practiced looking bewildered. *What?*

I heard a small sound of frustration almost leave his chest. His fingers and hands flew furiously, I almost didn't catch it all. *Don't play this game! Just give it back! A sapphire set in platinum half-cupped by a silver moon.*

Now I was honestly confused. *Silver what?*

He sneered. *MOON! The sky-body in darkness! The opposite of the Sun! Are you that stupid?*

Okay. I was fully distracted.

My sudden charge sent him stumbling back as he tried to dodge, but he simply wasn't fast enough. I grabbed hold of his robes, swung him around, and sent him bouncing onto the bed where I forced him to his stomach and sat on his lower back. He hissed a curse but it wasn't too loud. I leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"How about you raise your robes and take what I give you, and you can push it back out and see if it's your pendant or not?"

He started to move his hands and I flicked both his ears; he gasped in pain.

"Keep your hands where I can see them. Keep your fingers straight."

We were both still for the most part, listening to each other's breath, and when I didn't speak first, he slowly drew in air, his body pushing against my crotch in a pleasant way.

"You have it," he whispered. "I know it. It went missing just after you found me at the Tower. You were touching me, you had plenty of opportunity to pick my pocket."

"Simple enough deduction," I teased. "Why keep a pendant meant to be worn around the neck in a pocket, anyway?"

"None of your business."

"What if I want to know what it is, then I'll help you find it?"

"It doesn't need to be found. Just returned." He was gritting his teeth.

"Will you die without it?"

"No, but it is mine, Sirana. Not yours."

"I think I like it when you use my name, Shyntre. The last time you did, you were pleasuring me with your cock and your tongue, one after the other."

He huffed a breathy, bitter laugh beneath my weight. "I have no relation to you. You are the one making this out to be more than it is. I was instructed by the Red Sister Prime to rape you, and I did. That's all. You're the one who can't let go of the fact that I enjoyed it."

"Only to a point, it seemed. You protest too much. I find it curious that both you and Kerse were there, and you've served Wilsira before."

"Coincidence."

"And the soldier?"

"Random choice."

"How could they be certain he'd do as told, then?"

"Very well, an *educated* random choice."

"Where is he now?"

"Probably long since digested and passed back out by cavern creatures. That was my other assignment immediately after stretching out your back passage."

I chuckled. "Careful, mage, you're making me horny. How did you come to gain such 'assignments' from the Red Sisters, anyway?"

He stiffened and the half of his face that I could see glared hotly at me. "Maybe I earned it."

"By getting their attention, yes. Was it Priestesses or Red Sisters who sought you first?"

He shook his head and started to wriggle enjoyably. "Get...off...me!"

He flicked his fingers just so, before I could react, and a burst of light exploded in front of my face. I really should have expected that.

It hurt as if daggers had literally gone into my eyes, but it didn't force me to release him. I dropped and grappled him instead, focusing the pain and blindness into orienting myself differently, holding on tighter to his body not jumping away like some startled lightning bug. Giving distance to a mage was always a mistake; when in doubt, get closer.

Clumsily I got an arm hooked around his neck and I started to squeeze his arteries on either side between my bicep and forearm. He wheezed a protest just before I bore down harder on him. I was still blind and my head still throbbed, but eventually I could feel the tension drain from his body, then he finally went limp. I held on for a few more seconds before letting the blood flow back to his head. I listened intently for him to start breathing again, and he did.

The bathing room door opened, and after a moment as I held still sitting astride the unconscious wizard, a smooth chuckle came from Wilsira's throat. It sounded like she rubbed her hands together.

"I leave you two alone for a quarter mark and this is how I find you?" She tisked. "My dears...how easily I could be attacked while you are fighting each other. I may have to bring in additional assurance of my well-being."

I heard the quiet shuffle of clawed feet next, and, coupled with the deep breath of a chest much broader than a Drow's, it sounded exactly like noises inside the Abyssal chamber at the Sanctuary. The next moment, I recognized the musk of scent.

Definitely Kerse.

I really wished I could see right then. The nuances of expression in both their faces might be vital to my anticipating anything that was coming, either now or later. It wasn't an option, though; it was lost to me because of my tussle with Shyntre.

"My apologies, Priestess," I said, staying on the wizard for as long as possible so I might better sense when he was about to wake up. "We had a disagreement on the purpose of this journey. Tell me, did he volunteer? Perhaps he only wanted to test a Red Sister's temper."

She chuckled. "Formidable when the right switch is flicked, I've heard. To answer your questions, he accepted when I asked him. He knew nothing about you. He's been on this trek before." She paused. "What is wrong with your eyes, my dear? That razor-sharp focus is gone."

The oily glide of her words matched the Draegloth approaching the bed. As before, I didn't move from where I was and drew no weapon, though I couldn't hold a gaze this time.

I turned my head and smiled at him instead; simple enough to hear where his nose and mouth were. "A non-sleeping guardian. Good choice, Priestess. Does that mean Shyntre and I will receive breaks to rest? I'd hardly expect we'd be at our top form after five cycles without reverie."

She was quiet a moment, but still sounded amused when she spoke. "Of course. You'll have to forgive his tardiness, it was always in the plan to have my son with me."

"Off playing, was he?"

I heard a soft snort from him, almost like a voiceless laugh, though his dam made a scoffing sound at the same moment that drowned it out for her.

"Completing a task for me."

I heard her robe swish as if she'd just made a gesture with most of her arm. Immediately after, Kerse leaned closer to me; I heard him inhale my scent and sensed him reaching out toward me. I did not know the best path here. Roll off the wizard and dodge? Let him do whatever with his clawed hand?

I reached out my own hand deliberately and succeeded in taking his thick wrist. He stopped; even his breath stopped, for a second, and I could feel the heat of his body through my glove.

"Priestess. What are you doing?" She hummed briefly. "I am just curious, Sirana."

Finally I could start to make out spots of candlelight and color in my vision; it would take some time, but my sight was recovering. I wanted to hold on to Kerse's wrist until I could finally see his expression, but that would linger too long. I opted to release him and get off the wizard in the same motion, stepping casually to give myself some space from all of them without turning my back.

"Curious about what?"

"Whether he liked you. I think he does."

When I looked her way, I could barely make out that she had crossed her arms low beneath her breasts, pushing them together. She did look clean and more relaxed, sexier, her headpiece gone, her hair down and combed out.

"Sometimes my son needs release on these journeys and I am too busy or too tired to see to it. At times, it has caused some awkward conversations when he would seduce a servant of the House instead. 

"Tell me, Sirana, would you be willing to tend to him that way, to spell me, the way he can spell you and Shyntre when you need to rest? There will always be at least one of you three to guard me. You know I trust my boy, and in satisfying him for me, I would consider you to be protecting my body and my health, just as your Prime has instructed."

I blinked as my vision came back fully, as I heard the wizard take a much deeper breath that indicated that he'd awoken. I looked at Kerse first; his dark face was strangely neutral and he wasn't showing his teeth for once. Then I looked at his mother. She watched me every bit like the predator she was, a small smile on her lips as she waited for me to reply.

Then I looked at Shyntre. He was awake and blinking at me, reaching gingerly to touch his throat, then he turned his head carefully toward the Draegloth beside and above him, then at Wilsirathon as well. He remained perfectly still.

Shyntre was afraid but trying not to show it. From the look of it, Kerse knew anyway with his next inhale, demonic eyes flicking briefly down but soon returned to me.

What in the Abyss was the right answer here?

"Wilsira, this is a bad idea—"

"Come now," she snapped, tucking a gold lock behind her ear almost as a nervous gesture. "How is it? You roll and knock-out my wizard the first moment I am out of sight. I cannot trust you to spell each other as you each rest., but rest you must! I have infertility draughts for you to take, Sirana, of course I wouldn't catch from my own son. And I know you have the energy where I do not. Your very training sees to it."

If I had been wondering whether I'd ever seen the genuine face of the Priestess before, I had my answer now: I had not, not even a glimmer. Not until Kerse stood in the same room with us.

The jealousy D'Shea had been so concerned about was absolutely there, but it wasn't the kind of jealousy I was used to, the hostile kind where one only wanted the rival out of the picture. Nor was it a simple desire to create personal benefit from of the situation in spite of herself—even though her offer could be interpreted that she was doing just that.

No, it was a possessive, unsettling covetousness...she wanted to see what she'd missed during my trial, what her son had enjoyed so much about me, and somehow control it, make it her own. I could see more plotting, more desires there behind her eyes which I did not want to see, but my mind was unraveling it anyway.

"I expect it, Sirana," she said. "You will assist me this way, it is how you may serve me best. I will send a glowing recommendation back to your Prime on your behalf if Kerse is well taken care of."

The warnings in my head didn't stop there. It might not end after a five cycle trip. Not if she could find a way to bargain for my services again...and again.

What had Qivni said to me oh-so-elegantly at the worship ball...? *You should offer your gaping netherhole to serve him and his mother permanently...*

That was the danger, yes, but I wouldn't think D'Shea would leave me to it so easily. Not unless we were both backed into a corner. She had said she had plans for me that didn't include Wilsirathon.

...and had also said that I hadn't been experienced enough to take on this Priestess and not end up like Curgia, and the imagery had been clear even then: being bred repeatedly by her son, his weight covering my back and his cock rutting my hole whenever either of them wanted. 

Not exactly how I wanted to spend the next few decades, and this journey might determine just that.

"How old is he?" I asked, neither accepting nor declining her order just yet.

"What does that matter?" the Priestess asked.

"I'm just curious. I can't tell his age, but I can tell yours. Seven hundred or so?"

She drew herself up straighter as, out of the corner of my eye, I noted Shyntre moving slowly to the far side of the bed where he could get to his feet, much farther away from the Draegloth than I was.

"Seven and two score. Kerse has lived with me for five of those centuries. He is one of the oldest at the Sanctuary." She smirked. "Does that make you feel as young as you are, Sirana? Have you even reached your first century yet?"

"Give me two years, I'll be there." I found it easier to smile than to feel intimidated, particularly when the mother was essentially saying she needed a younger snatch to help fuck her boy into docility.

Apparently Kerse could and did mount other slits without his mother's knowing, but according to her had kept it to servants thus far and she found out about them later and handled it somehow. All because...?

I glanced at his crotch, covered by a green loincloth before, but he was straining it. All because he had a much stronger drive for sex than she did? Those valued twins of mine, perception and inspiration, made me think she might be struggling more than anyone had thought to keep him under control, her own jealousy twisting into the need to possess other females who shared her burden. Who shared her son.

Mostly, it was that soft snort he'd just made that led me to this line of thought, loud enough for me but not for her. That and the way he'd looked behind him when I'd been spying; he had sensed something, I still couldn't discount that feeling. He had revealed that he'd known he was being watched, but only after his mother had left the room.

He was growing more independent, I was sure of it. D'Shea hadn't wanted to consider it based on the impulsive nature of the younger Draegloth but she was wrong. Wilisirathon was trying to placate him while thinking she still knew what he wanted, how to keep him content. But he was changing.

...did he really only want more sex than he was getting? That was a good question.

The immediate situation was not so different now than it had been in the candle chamber the first time I'd laid eyes on Kerse. I could refuse and be forced anyway and learn nothing. Or I could try to direct it, to participate, and possibly earn knowledge even D'Shea didn't have.

"You agree you will tell the Prime that you are pleased with my service?" I asked, as if that was my first concern, and Wilsira perked up a bit.

"Of course. If I can avoid having to clean up after him, I will be quite satisfied. It will save me so much time and effort. No doubt, for you, having the positive link with the Priesthood will set you up for better assignments with the Prime. You'll earn your rank faster, my young Sister."

I nodded, looking eager for such a thing to happen. "And how many couplings during this journey would be realistic to satisfy him?"

Kerse's mouth stretched back in a smile at last. There were those long, sharp teeth on full display. Shyntre made a noise that, coupled with a glance, confirmed that he was thoroughly disgusted with me.

"I still prefer his company when I am about to retire, Sirana, you only need tend him upon waking and once during the waking hours. Your choice of time, as long as Shyntre is awake and with me."

So the mid-cycle coupling could be just Kerse and me, alone. I had to assume Wilsira would stay to watch the waking one. "Two for one, huh?"

She chuckled, seeming to relax a bit. "You are trained for physical endurance. You are perfect for this."

"How long has he been making these little messes for you to clean up?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Only the last decade. It is temporary."

"What makes you think that?"

"That is privileged," she responded brusquely. "Suffice to say, you will be helping with a short-term goal. Do your part, you'll be rewarded appropriately. I'll be glad to do it."

A reward...which was wide-open to interpretation. She was relying on my age and my assumptions not to know which questions to ask. Except that I did; I had several more in mind if I truly considered this a binding bargain, but since I didn't, let her think I was easily guided, and even more easily fooled.

The truth was I still had more interest gleaning what was on Kerse's mind, not as much hers, and I'd have one opportunity per cycle to be alone with him. Those interactions would be my self-chosen reward in exchange for the risk of being trapped in the future, because this whole journey would quickly go against me if I refused to serve at all. 

Afterward was when I would greatly need the experience and the wisdom of my Elder, to learn how to best use whatever I found out. The "bargain" I was making now with the Priestess was, in itself, of little value. That was why simply a positive word to my Prime was good enough for me, since threat of a negative one was the alternative.

"Very well, Priestess. I agree."

"Excellent."

I noticed that her nipples were visible through her robes as she uncrossed her arms, and she was more tense as she moved out of the doorway to the bathing room. Kerse had shifted to look at her at last, and he emitted a soft churr ending in a distinctly carnivorous whine of pleasure when she laid her hand on his mane, stroked it down his back, all the way to his loincloth. Shyntre made a very uncomfortable noise when she removed it and I couldn't help shooting the mage a smirk.

It seemed the balancing act began immediately. Could I expect anything else?

"Undress, Sirana," the Priestess commanded softly, reaching to barely touch, barely stroke the Draegloth's erection. "You'll both be nude, no weapons or tools, just like during your trial. He will not kill you, you will not kill him. As for injuries..." She shrugged delicately. "Well, I can heal, and the wizard has a collection of potions." 

She reached up and cupped Kerse beneath his heavy jaw, stroking the soft flesh beneath and looking at him but speaking to us both. "Do what comes naturally. I want to watch. See what I missed."

"And the birth control?" I asked.

"Yes. I've taken care of that. It's too late for you, I won't wait a whole candle mark for a draught to take effect, and neither will he. I've already cast a temporary effect on him that stops the seed from forming in his sac, but not the semen. You'll have to trust in my considerable power as a Priestess and a healer, Sirana."

Great.

Shyntre stared at me incredulously as I removed my cloak and draped it over an opulent chair farthest from him, then reached for my belt. I could only think that my Elder had been right; the Priestess could be very persuasive about getting one out of one's reds.

Wilsira's son shifted excitedly as I placed my gloves atop my belt and began unlacing my boots. The Priestess herself snapped her fingers in the mage's direction.

"Shyntre, look at me," she demanded.

He did so reluctantly, clearly wishing he were anywhere else but in this room.

"Disrobe as well and get on the bed."

I smothered a laugh as I set my second boot down and began unhooking my leather armor, soon to shed my tunic, shirt, and pants. As Kerse remained where he was, vibrating with energy, I found an unexpected boon in watching my wizard so reluctantly strip and eventually joining her on the soft blankets after more coaxing on her part. 




Sufferance Ch. 10



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 2012

The plot thickens, dear readers, as do the revelations in this long chapter. Thank you for staying with us this long. :)

******

Chapter 10

"Here, Sirana, drink this."

"I have my own, Priestess, you remember. But thank you."

"As you wish, but I wouldn't want you to go through your own stores on my account."

"That's what they're there for, Priestess. I follow my training. That's all."

Wilslira pursed her lips slightly as I tipped the small vial at my lips and drained its contents, then she stared at me a few moments as if she was confused by something I'd done.

"Something wrong, Priestess?"

She shook her head. "No. Very well. Let me finish my preparations and I'll take the mage with me. I may be gone for several marks this time. After Kerse is satisfied, you must promise me you will rest while I'm away, Red Sister. I don't think I've seen you in reverie even once since we left the Sanctuary. I know they may have done some things to... alter you in the Sisterhood, but every sentient being must dream eventually."

I nodded. "Of course, Priestess."

I waited for her to leave me alone with her son for the first time since this began, but I already knew she tended to take a while to get ready.

I hadn't had an easy time of things since that mid-cycle cluster-fuck at House D'Verin. Now we had traveled and stayed over at the first inn and just arrived at House Peniel, the second destination. 

I'd both done my normal guard duties and her son several more times, and she was correct, I was exhausted with my normal composure compressed into a stony version of myself. It had been over three cycles since I dreamt and I was running on stimulants from my pouch, and food and water that I collected myself. 

This time would be my fifth with Kerse so far, but only the first one with which Wilsira seemed comfortable in leaving to attend her business and not have to watch the Draegloth and I couple. She had allowed me to take my own draughts—it seemed, although Shyntre had helped me switch them back at least once after my having been naked and unable to avoid taking my eyes off my equipment.

The wizard was acting as a second set of eyes for me. He had his reasons and they were entirely self-serving, as they should be or I wouldn't have accepted the help. Wilsira was a lot more crafty and subtle than I'd wanted to believe, given her various performances when I first met her. 

I knew Kerse was helping her as well since he didn't sleep, but he was also more than a bit obvious about it—letting us see some of his actions—and he didn't tell her when I would do something to offset the Priestess's advantage; he would pretend he didn't see it. 

The wizard had learned not to draw the Draegloth's or Priestess's attention, but instead to give me advice or suggestions and let me be the one to see it through.

Our little traveling group had worked out a bizarre, four-way equilibrium act, trying to find a lasting advantage for our own goals...whatever they happened to be. Looking back, I could see how it had come to be.

Immediately following that first, painful mounting at House D'Verin, I had watched over the Priestess during the family dining, glad I was not required to interact at all. Later I had been steadfast in declining to participate again that eve, though Wilsira had offered. I reminded her of the agreement: upon waking and mid-cycle was all that was required.

I had stayed just outside the door listening until it had gone very, very quiet, and I relaxed only slightly. My body was healed and strong again, the effects of the incense gone, but I hadn't felt much recovered from what the Priestess had done, or perhaps had not done. 

I didn't necessarily know how many of my inclinations had been the result of my own ignorance and over-confidence, and how much may have been her. I only knew that now I had to come up with a series of actions that would build some kind of defense against my known weaknesses. 

One of the major weaknesses was sleep. It would be a long while yet before the healing draught I'd just taken in the bathing room would allow sleep anyway, and truthfully, I had planned a reverie only once on this trip. 

This was actually possible, given the stimulants D'Shea had provided for me, but those could be overridden with enough increased physical and mental stress...

...such as conflicting potions, aerosol drugs or charm spells, and barely-compliant, rigorous sex twice a day with a high risk of becoming pregnant, the resulting consequences of which I was vividly aware. 

I had been only a year with the Sisterhood, but now with the potential of facing double that time with the Priesthood.

I did not want that. Denial, outrage, and resistance swept through my every nerve at the thought. It would be like being at the mercy of my blood sister again. I'd gotten over that, but I would not go through it again. I refused.

I still wasn't sure when or how I could rest and not risk losing my most important tools. This had led me to the other major weakness: lack of enough pregnancy prevention potions from a source that I could trust.

I had thought I had agreed to so many couplings because the information gained would be worth it, and because it was better than having to anticipate continuous and escalating attempts to force me to give her what she wanted. That may still hold true, but something had also convinced me—very briefly—that the Priestess would work with me to prevent pregnancy.

I had had no good reason for thinking that, or for accepting it. None. And it wasn't like me anyway—or, it wasn't like the trained Red Sister I was now. It was more like when I had still been a Noble, when I hadn't been concerned about catching a child at all, because I was too scarred on the inside to ever bear children.

Had Wilsirathon done some trick or spell to heighten that previous feeling, that lack of concern for that one part of the agreement? Trust her on it, to take care of it? Pah!

So I had stood outside that door, my mind running in circles as I realized in truth that I did not have enough resources and could not anticipate everything Wilsira might do, particularly if she was using sedatives and spells against me. I'd hated feeling so helpless. I always had. 

I was in so much trouble, and I only had two preventative draughts on me. I had begun to consider the consequences of abandoning my assignment altogether....

Shyntre had cracked the door open then but hesitated, as I believe he was startled to see me there. After a moment he quietly let himself out anyway. I didn't smell any sex on him at all, but I poked him regardless.

*You need to bathe,* I had signed, making a "phew" motion in front of my nose.

He had smirked and signed back. *Where I was the whole time, as a matter of fact. I do not care for Draegloth sex.* Oddly, he watched me more thoughtfully and with far less hostility than usual. *Hate being drugged, do you?*

*Depends on the drug.* I smirked and presented the more familiar air of flippancy.

*And the situation,* he replied, not buying my act for one second.

I had shrugged, pulling my cloak forward and hiding my hands farther inside them. I signed deliberately at the level of my abdomen, *Obvious observation, mage. You want to talk, step much closer to me, and keep your hands close to your body like this."

He had weighed the offer for a few moments before looking both ways down the hall and stepping close enough that we could feel the heat of each other's skin. I looked down slightly in meeting his eyes; he was shorter than the Priestess and me. 

The both of us had to look straight down to see our gestures and we would miss at lot of facial expressions doing it, but it was the trade for a little privacy out in that hall. It was also a risk; we were briefly trusting the other not to land a dagger in our belly being so close with hands expected to move quickly.

Why I had even given the mage the opportunity was a little hazy at the moment. Perhaps I had just needed some new thoughts, as my mind had been in turmoil all that time with precious few solutions.

*It is you she wants, is it not?* he asked.

*You become slow, wizard.*

He exhaled in irritation. *Oh? Why am I here, then?*

Again I shrugged. *I do not know. Because you were at my trial and I'd know you? Because you were a strong enough temptation to distract me and allow her to spring her trap?*

Yes, I could admit that mistake as well. If I had not attacked Shyntre, then—

He was still for a time, then signed slowly. *She does not know you sought after me in the Tower.*

That was interesting, but...

*Correction: you did not tell her. She may know regardless.*

*Fair enough,* he admitted.

*Assuming not that, however, what else?* I asked.

He hesitated, thinking.

*Tell me why you fear Kerse,* I signed, jumping on the thought. They were connected, I knew that much.

His customary scowl returned for a moment, but it didn't stay long. His mind was too busy distracting itself by working over some plan or offer. 

The only thing of which I was sure regarding his place in all this was that he didn't want to be here and wasn't in close confidence with Wilsira about her plans for me. I decided I would hear him out. What had I to lose with him that was worse than the freedom I could lose to the Priestess?

*I will tell you, and give details that will interest you, if you return my pendant,* he replied, putting his hands down, one folded over the other. He waited.

Son of a dwarf.

*Well played,* I answered sardonically. I was tempted to add the name-calling at the end but decided against it. I'd never seen him this willing to share information, and wasn't that what I wanted from taking the stone in the first place? Not quite the information I'd thought I wanted, but...

I could only assume he felt he needed some information from me, too. Or some cooperation. In retrospect, we had needed to learn to talk beyond the biting insult and sarcasm, and we were both finally in a position to be willing to trade.

I'd reached up to remove the three bands in my hair and began loosening the plaited loops of my braids. Shyntre stared at me and his gaze flickered when my fingers finally touched the hard, smooth sapphire. I had to take extra moments to unravel the black thong I'd threaded through the setting from my hair as well. He reached for it and I held it away, slapping his hand.

*Not so obvious,* I jerked the gestures. *Talk first.*

He breathed out in frustration but returned his hands close to his abdomen and started signing.

*I fear Kerse because he tried to kill me once, long ago. I was still a child, but he looked the same. He has ever been neutral toward me because Wilsirathon took an interest in me, well before I was grown and taken to the Tower.*

I looked up from his hands to his face, my brows high on my forehead. His expression was guarded.

I had been right? He was a Sanctuary child? 

I signed back, *You grew up on the third floor?*

He had been a little surprised that I'd be so precise, but he nodded. *Correct. I still answer summons, see her when she has need for my skills. I am no stranger to her tastes, but with you was the first time she ever allowed Kerse and me in her presence at the same time. It made no sense at first. I thought she finally meant to test me against him, until I saw how he was looking at you. He wants you more than he wants her, so I was no threat. He did not care that I was there, except when I stood too close to you. You heard him growl that one time.*

I could not think of a reply at first, not until Shyntre reached for the pendant again and I blocked him.

*I have told you why I fear Kerse and who I am, Red Sister,* he signed angrily. *That is what you wanted, admit it.*

*You told me where you grew up,* I signed back. *Wilsira is not your dam, so who is? Where do you come from? What does this stone mean?*

I saw his teeth gleam in the dark hallway as he bared them at me. *None of your twice-damned business! No importance to you! Give me my pendant, or the Priestess will have another helper trying to bind you to her!*

*You are planning to help her anyway!* I accused, hiding how hard that threat had struck home.

His hands flew across his abdomen, and I could hear how much faster his breathing had gotten in his anger. *No, Sister, I am not. The Priestess is making a mistake. A deliberate and *unwilling* pregnancy on a Red Sister? One thing if it is a servant or a commoner, or even a Noble, but she's foolish to try for one of the Sisterhood! I will not be witness again between your two orders. Best chance for both our survival: you must return with no passenger in your belly!*

I stared at him. *Witness 'again'?*

Shyntre looked like he regretted his outburst. He breathed out. *No. That story is not part of our agreement. Do you have prevention potions?*

*Why?*

*If you don't, I will get them for you!* he snapped, actually thumping himself in his own stomach with the force of his gestures.

*I have two,* I answered.

*You need eight. More, if possible.*

*How will you find time to make that many with no materials?*

*I never said I would make them,* he retorted.

*Your trust your source?*

*Yes.*

*Why should I?*

*Because you would, too. Think about this House.*

I had only begun to ponder that, but not it seemed obvious. Who possibly had the most sex in the House but needed to control who became pregnant?

*The Consort's bedroom?*

The mage nodded. *Matron D'Verin cannot prevent all clandestine visits from her daughters, you realize. Best chance is she would give him all he needs and he convinces them it is his idea to keep it secret from her. No visible consequences, and they share the Consort.*

I couldn't fight a smile. *Clever Matron.*

Shyntre replied with a look of distaste. *She is not the only one who uses the method.*

*The Consort will tell Wilsira if you go to him.*

*Why?*

*He grew upon the third floor, too, right? They are placed as informants for the Priestesses, aren't they? Didn't she place him here herself just this past worship ball?*

Shyntre paused and it seemed like I'd thrown a metal rod in his wheel spokes with my questions. *I had forgotten. You may have to steal them.*

*You jest.*

*I believe your stealth exceeds mine, Red Sister.*

*You can be invisible.*

*But wards are not my specialty. Sisters can bypass wards, I know.*

When I didn't reply, we had both looked up again, and this time we held each other's gaze. I searched his eyes and his face for signs of treachery.

"I will help you," he whispered so low I almost had to read his lips. He held his hand out expectantly. "You need me. Neither of us want to be trapped in this."

After another moment, I had placed the pendant back in his hand. I still didn't know what it meant to him, or what it was used for, but the trouble I was in had overshadowed that comparatively casual knowledge.

He was correct. I didn't *want* his help, but I needed it anyway.

Shyntre had held the sapphire tightly, assuring himself that he had it entirely in his possession and I wasn't about to try to snatch it back, then he looped it over his neck to wear it as a necklace again, tucking it on the inside of his robe.

I watched his every movement, my memory going back to the Duergar battle and Jael, where that gem had been struck by a psionic attack, bruising my chest exactly where it rested now on the wizard. If it was an imbued gem of sorts...I didn't know whether that had altered any feeling about it to the mage.

He had not look concerned, though, refocusing on me and making another gesture indicating he wanted to talk more. I signaled that I was willing, and we got back in close proximity.

*Any possibility you may have caught earlier?* he asked.

I had wanted to laugh; the very memory still made my ass ache. *No.*

*Wrong time?*

Or wrong something.

*Yes,* I lied. *But very soon, it will be right. I would take no chances.*

I also wouldn't take the chance of letting the wizard in on what I knew of Kerse's behavior. Simply telling him that the Draegloth had disobeyed Wilsira and fucked my other hole would tell him a lot, just as it did me. The wizard was aggravatingly intelligent, despite his bitterness.

Later on, using his invisibility spell to his advantage in the kitchen, Shyntre had made sure the Consort received a dose of something with his pre-reverie tea to help him rest more deeply. I had managed both to cross the wards surrounding his room and search around within it without setting off more wards inside. 

I did find a healthy stash of preventative draughts—the liquid even smelled the same as what I used—and I filched eight vials of the twenty. With my two, that made ten, and reasonably all I could carry on my person with any subtlety.

Yes, the Consort would notice how many were gone, but we would leave on the morrow and he wouldn't know who to tell in any regard. Not until it was far too late.

I had paused to watch the sleeping beauty before I left. The Consort had looked so perfect, resting in his bed. I indulged in a fantasy of being able to touch him as I liked while he slept, coax him, straddle him...perhaps even imagine Auslan in his place. Not more than a moment did I spend on that, however; I had to get back to my post. My window of opportunity was narrow enough.

It had proved a saving grace that Shyntre had insisted on the theft that very eve as most of the House slept. I had my own, Sisterhood-issued draughts in reserve for when I estimated my receptivity would be at its height—ironically, the day we would be at House Itlaun, just before the end of the journey—because I still trusted my own vials more than the Consort's. I'd swallowed one of my stolen vials a full mark of the candle before Wilsira was to receive her rising call, and made sure Kerse had seen me do it. He did not react. 

As I had figured, the Priestess wanted to watch us couple before going to break her fast. She wanted to be sure Kerse was taken care of.

"Rest easy, Sirana, the spell on him from before is still in effect."

Lying cunt.

I acted about as lethargic as before when she lit the incense, though whatever Shyntre had done ahead of time...I noticed it didn't affect me quite as much. The Priestess's own immunity to it worked against her as, once again, Kerse brought nothing out of the ordinary to her attention. He behaved as dim and eager to rut as expected, and I was willing to straddle him and let the Priestess see quite clearly that her son was seated in the proper hole.

The wizard had stayed well out of Kerse's periphery as I experienced what it was like to have that swollen knot lodged inside my birth canal. It was definitely eye-widening. Kerse took advantage of my distraction and rolled us, putting me on bottom and holding me down as his lips curled back to reveal his teeth and he started spurting inside me. 

Wilsira nearly shrieked in her glee, clapping her hands and cooing encouragement at him while I was rigid with tension and glared up at him as he shuddered over me repeatedly.

Well after the Draegloth was finished, not a drop of his semen came out until he was again small enough to pull back out, then it came out in a flood and coated my thighs and stained the blankets. It had been considerably more comfortable than the first time, I could admit, though the pressure was still very intense. At least I had been able to climax as well before the knot had seized and he'd rolled me. 




Sufferance Ch. 10



In our subsequent matings, in spite of what the Priestess had said before, she didn't demand I be taken anally (again) when I seemed so willing to do as she said. She wanted the best chance of me catching, didn't she? It was a good thing she underestimated me, mostly due to my young age. She would mention how young I was in one way or another, whenever she could.

Now, after four times being bred under heavy incense and having her watching, commenting, and demanding to participate...Wilsira had left with Shyntre, and the room was quiet in a way it never had been with her present. Kerse and I stared at one another.

The Draegloth was crouched down, one arm resting on his thigh as his other hand balanced him as the third point of contact with the floor. I saw his free hand move between his legs, not lewdly but almost in a proper hand sign. I only saw it because I was fully facing him; if anyone had been to the sides, they'd have seen nothing.

Only when he repeated it did I straighten up off the wall and began methodically checking the room before eventually reaching intended my goal: the two lanterns in the room. I found two bloodstones immediately. 

Magic was not my strong suit, but thanks to my spy-related specialties, I knew that bloodstone was a fine choice for a scrying spell. One could choose either visual or aural scrying, but not both. The reflection or echo of any life energy was absorbed to be replayed later either for the original caster or a designated user—but only one time, so take notes—and also did not record for longer than a few marks at best once the magic had been tapped, all depending on the strength of the caster.

It was possible the Matron of the House set these in here, but I thought it was much more likely that it had been the Priestess.

Glancing at Kerse without moving my head, I saw him nod subtly without making eye contact, and I took the stones into the bathing room, wrapped them up in a cloth and filling the sink with water, submerging them and—for good measure—adding a piece of raw iron from my pouch into the water. The water would muffle all sound and that particular metal would disrupt the magic to a degree.

The Draegloth finally smiled a little when I returned, some of the tension easing in his shoulders.

"Anything else?" I asked.

He shook his head, though I did another sweep anyway and he just watched me without seeming insulted. I didn't find anything.

"Did you see her put those bloodstones in here?"

Kerse shook his head. "Fffeel magicks."

"Upon our arrival?"

Again, he shook his head. "Ssoonn affterr. Mmotherr's."

"I see." I was still fully dressed, and I leaned against the sturdy writing desk and breathed out slowly. By the Goddess, I was tired.

"We have about a quarter mark left before I'm ready," I murmured. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Nneed slleeep," he commented, gesturing at me.

"I look that bad, do I?" I smirked. As long as we were being honest... "Why did you warn me before?"

He tilted his head as if confused. He wasn't going to acknowledge that he understood what I meant. Assuming he did.

No, I was sure he did. I may have been physically compromised, but I had heard him clearly.

"Why did you penetrate my netherhole the first time?"

"Wwannted itt. Ttighterr."

I waited for him to continue, but he didn't.

"She wanted you to breed me. Like you did Curgia, correct? You know how."

Kerse shook his head as if he was confused.

I pressed for more on Curgia but he stopped talking altogether. I was forced to turn it back to my original point.

"She wanted you to seed my sex, Kerse. She assumed you had, that was clear by what she said afterward. But you didn't."

He shrugged, looking down almost embarrassed. "Missundrstoodd. Exxcitted. Hhave yyou. Nott wannt to admmitt..."

"Drider dung, Kerse."

He stopped talking and looked annoyed, but simply waited. I got the feeling he wasn't telling me anything. He was playing dumb or being evasive.

And I was being too direct; he saw my purpose for every question. Granted, that was because I both sleep-deprived and didn't know enough about his kind and the Priesthood to ask the subtler ones. Damn it.

I sighed and began the familiar ritual of removing my possessions and uniform, and Kerse perked up out of his slight sulk. Once nude, I wrapped up everything but the larger weapons in my cloak and place it and all else in Wilsira's trunk, which she had agreed to leave open for me on the condition that I would get some sleep. I wouldn't be able to get dressed until she came back, as she was the only one who could open it, but all the pieces of my uniform would be secure.

Truthfully, that was likely the only way I would be able to slip into any sort of restful reverie.

Before closing the trunk's top, I noted of hers that only the clothing and beautification items were left. She'd taken more than usual with her this time; two leather bags were gone for sure. Well, what could I expected? Of course I would go through them if she'd left them.

I secured my own things then I stretched out on the bed, leaving it up to Kerse what he did next, and rubbed my hand over my eyes and forehead. I definitely had a headache.

His hot hand gently touched my ankle, and when I didn't pull away, it slid up my calf to my knee and I felt the heavy weight climbing onto the foot of the bed. Both hands caressed my thighs and nudged at them, voicelessly asking me to spread them as he loomed over me.

He had plenty of self-restraint when he chose. He had even learned to watch his strength. A blatant lie, claiming he had been too excited in wanting my ass to follow his mother's directive. What was he up to?

I opened my legs for him, and he quickly cupped my upper thighs and settled down to nuzzle between them. I did genuinely enjoy the way his tongue felt; both longer and stronger, and surprisingly versatile. He was unable to use any lips because of his teeth, so this could never be mistaken for a Drow's mouth. He purred as my breathing quickened, content in my pleasure for a time.

I felt my nipples tighten and glanced at the candle mark by the bed. Another fraction to go before I could take him, just to be safe. I was better off drawing this out, so I worked on writhing my hips so that he couldn't manage constant stimulation on my nub. My thighs brushed his wide, hard shoulders as he slipped large hands beneath my bottom, lifting me up slightly and trying to hold me in place.

Novel.

A flush crossed my chest as he licked harder, alternating his pressure spots and catching multiple sensitive points in quick succession, and I tensed full-body as my toes curled in the air. Lolth, he was good at this...but then when one possibly had more than four centuries of one-on-one tutoring, one should be. 

Good for him; he didn't stop until I'd come.

Gasping and with a more relaxed moan, I glanced at the candle again. I was in the clear; it was a quarter mark past the minimum time.

"Nnoww?" he rumbled.

I nodded. "It's working." He took a moment to look confused and I added tersely, "Cut the act, Kerse, just spurt inside me."

The Draegloth chuckled roughly—he'd shown over the last two cycles that he relished not having to pull out of me prematurely as he had been required at the trial. I wasn't even sure withdrawal was an option anymore once he got that knot inside his companion's hole. 

I had also wondered recently whether that alteration in his physical form had been a factor in the sudden changes between him and Wilsirathon...perhaps even indicative of other changes, mental, magical, or otherwise.

Just how many forms could a demon-blood ultimately take in his lifetime? And was that life as long as a Drow's, or shorter? Much longer? I had no idea.

In pure reflex, I braced my arms over my head as Kerse grasped my hips and lifted them straight off the mattress, settling the length of his uneven erection against the lips of my cunt. My head was tilted against the pillow and my back arched backward, my own tits in the way so I couldn't watch as he pressed into me. I only felt his adjustment and the hot tip sinking into my cleft. 

He grunted as he pushed all of himself inside—he hadn't developed the knot yet so that was possible—and stroked himself eagerly in my sheath.

I'd never tried this position before; it had never really been practical with the smaller male Drow, or even appealing given how little control I had. Kerse liked using his strength to try to impress me, however, and I could grant that it was the one thing the Draegloth had over his full-blood brothers. 

It took getting used to, but I'd made the conscious decision to be more compliant to his and his mother's desires over the last few cycles. I wanted to observe and, being without back-up and having my reserves of strength constantly taxed, I needed to choose my battles.

The brief lack of control now made me want to kick and strike out, but I kept in mind that I knew he was trying things with me that he'd already learned from the Priestess or other encounters. They were not experimentation on his part, I could tell, they were far too practiced and he did seem to want to please. So at the very least, I was learning some intimate details about him and Wilsira.

Blood rushed into my head as an odd sensation began to climb; my ears seemed to develop a layer of water inside as all I heard for a moment was low rushing and a sound like the clang of a metallic heartbeat. I lifted myself higher with my arms, and with Kerse kneeling straight and holding my hips, I remained suspended off the bed. I shook my head to try to dislodge a different, distracting, and unsettling sound: the chiming as if my blood were beginning to turn to shards of crystal bouncing off each other.

Then I was sure I felt claws tracing lightly over my bare abdomen, but I knew Kerse somehow still held my hips with both hands...

I reacted violently in a surge of panic, my legs snapping around his waist to counterbalance the raw strength of my core so I could pull myself up. I grabbed hold of his shoulder with one hand and had my other raised and fisted, ready to strike him or whatever with my full arm and he flinched, pausing our coupling as he folded his legs down and held me impaled on his lap.

He whined and tensed for the blow, but I paused when I could not see anything amiss.

I was breathing too hard, trembling, and I didn't know what had happened except something had been touching me with all hands accounted for...

I felt his bulb then, nudging at my entrance, and the simple weight of my sitting pillion encouraged my slick flesh to slowly expand to allow it in.

He muttered a toothy, "Ssorryy..."

I didn't hear that often. "Sorry for what?"

"Beauttiffull," he rumbled.

I didn't give a damn whether that was flattery or not, I focused on the problem. "What happened?"

He shifted, his hips moving and he nudged at me with his knot again. "Sstopped magickss."

I wasn't positive that I understood what he meant and would have followed up, except that right then he passed the point of no return and my snatch opened just wide enough for a genital lock. I settled on him completely before my own muscles snapped tight again around him, plugging me up and binding us together. 

I cried out, and so did he, instinctively trying to thrust a few times but not able to do more than rock now that he was tied to me. He squeezed my backside and breathed raggedly, clutching me tightly to his chest as he trembled and his cock twitched and began flooding me.

I hated not being able to move; I squirmed in his lap, but it only caused him to hold tighter until I could barely fill my lungs. I stopped fighting so I could draw in some air, although my most base thoughts had already gone through several ways I might try to kill him if I really needed to escape...

The Draegloth shuddered every few seconds for quite a while, his warm tongue flicking out to taste the skin of my shoulder or neck now and then. The vibrations coming from his chest were nearly a type of song that one heard in the deepest caves, crooning and keening lower than a Drow could hear; one felt it in the teeth and the bones before one realized it was a sound meant for the ears.

I found I could not remain tense this entire time; I was tiring more quickly than before. His skin became superheated and moist as he held me and finished his enviably long orgasm; his breathing came in deep rows of rushing air behind my ear as he rested his chin on my shoulder. Unintentionally I relaxed with him, my exhaustion setting in more strongly than before we'd started. My eyes nearly fluttered shut.

I couldn't get to any stimulants, they were locked up at the moment, but I also thought this was the best opportunity I'd had so far to rest. Just me and the Draegloth; he was sated, his mother and the wizard weren't here. Kerse wouldn't allow me to come to harm when he still had at least two more cycles enjoying my permissible twat.

The Abyssal creature leaned forward to gently lay me on my back—quite like he had just before he'd plunged into my body during the trial— and tugged to test the current fit; a good pull would disconnect us. While I thought he might linger a little longer, he didn't, taking that good pull to withdraw himself. His semen flooded out of my pussy to soak the bedding beneath.

We both groaned aloud as he did this; that part never had been incredibly comfortable for either of us, but he always seemed hypersensitive afterward so I figured the discomfort was more intense for him.

"Slleeepp," he hissed softly, the weight of his body depressing the mattress next to me. "Nneedd slleepp."

*I know, I know...* I breathed out, felt myself already starting to drift, not caring that I lay in a wet spot.

He nudged me and, damned if I knew why, I turned on my side. He immediately moved closer until we were sharing body heat and his chest and stomach curled protectively at my back. He tentatively draped a long arm over me, tucking his claws in to settle his knuckles against my stomach. I was too tired to protest.

I fell into reverie the next instant, kept still and warm by a large and changing body.

******

*What have you done to us, Drow?*

No. It wasn't just me. It was as much you.

*We know what we want.*

Then you know more than most do. It'll change.

*Accept what you've done.*

It happened. What else is there to accept?

*The merging of minds.*

But still separate.

*Stronger when embraced.*

But at the cost of something else.

*Everything costs.*

We agree. Leave me. I've best on my own.

*Not anymore. Too late. You know that.*

Why give up what's hard-earned so easily?

*To be the best at something else.*

Impossible if I don't know it as I've known myself.

*Knowing ourselves is the weakest of walls. It breaks often and we rebuild often. The blind pretend it was never broken.*

So...how does one know what may cross over to stay, before the wall is rebuilt?

*Only when we face it on the other side...*

My eyes flew open and I was standing vertical and bare-footed on the carpeted floor before I fully realized that I'd heard the door unlock. Wilsira and Shyntre entered and all four of us were staring silently at each other as details became apparent. 

The wizard's nostrils flared and he gave a twitch of an expression about the strength of the scent in the room. He carried a bottle of something and two small glasses. 

The Priestess was studying my hips and thighs and looked pleased; I had not cleaned up and the Draegloth seed was visible, sticky in some places and flakey in others.

Kerse sat up slowly on the bed and churred a greeting to his dam.

"You can stand down now, Sirana," she said, almost soothing. "No one is attacking."

I realized my hand had been fisted as if holding a non-existent dagger, my stance one ready to fight, even though any recent attacks weren't ones that could be handled directly with sharp blades...

Wilsira smiled at Kerse. "Are you feeling better, my own?"

He nodded an affirmative and crawled off the bed to crouch before the Priestess as I'd often seen him do when he was at her disposal.

"And did our dedicated warrior rest at last?" She was still talking to Kerse, not me.

Again, he nodded. "Slleepp."

"Excellent. The sharper a Sister's awareness, the better!"

The Priestess looked too pleased, in my opinion. Had Kerse been instructed to do something to me while I slept? It could be paranoia, except that I knew she really was out to trap me. 

If I didn't find anything on me, though, D'Shea would. I'd insist on it if she didn't, although I wouldn't think my crafty Elder mage would allow me back at the cloister without a thorough inspection after being alone with a Priestess for so long. Particularly since I had been unconscious at least once.

That was on Kerse, though, whether he had taken any initiative, and how. It wasn't up to me, except in that I would try not to have to sleep again on this trip.

It was late eve and the House dining had already occurred. I'd been asleep for eight marks, easily twice as long as I normally needed. I retrieved my belongings from Wilsira's trunk and went into the bathing room again, washing myself and inspecting everything thoroughly, piece by piece, as I redressed.

Physically, I found nothing unusual or missing, and sadly, I wasn't sensitive enough or knowledgeable enough about magic to be able to do more than sense the magic in the items I already used as part of the Sisterhood. Nothing foreign in my skin that I could feel or see, no marks on my body, nothing in my braids as I combed them out and then plaited and secured them again.

"I am going to the kitchens, Priestess," I said on exiting, feeling much better for having my uniform on and weapons back to hand. "I must eat."

The Priestess had reclined in a comfortable chair with a glass of whatever Shyntre had carried in. She nodded, but then Kerse growled; he was looking straight at the wizard as Shyntre shifted nervously.

Wilsira chuckled. "Why don't you take him with you, Sirana? I'd like to be alone and my son will protect me. Just don't roll the mage again where the House can see you."

Shyntre seemed just as eager as I felt to leave the room at last. He breathed out as we walked farther down the hall, but said nothing directly. I let the silence remain until we'd found the kitchens; Shyntre stood slightly behind me at all times and let my uniform get the immediate service one could expect, even though those of the House had been entirely surprised at my arrival and had to be given time to respond.

The surprise was the most necessary factor in coming here, unless I wanted to go out and hunt down my own meal.

"The stew, the bread, that fruit, that water." 

I watched as the head Drow instructed the little Peches to serve up generous helpings of only the things I could see that were part of a communal supply—nothing specialized, nothing that plenty of others didn't share as well. They assumed the wizard with me needed a meal, too, and handed him a platter laden with double servings.

Shyntre began to protest, but I said, "Thank you," and gestured for him to follow me.

We found a small patio out of doors, and I could enjoy the open air, even as my eyes never really stayed still and were constantly scanning the place. Shyntre set down the platter on a table and I pulled it toward me to begin eating immediately. I was in desperate need of fuel.

"You will eat mine as well, Red Sister?" he asked wryly though quietly.

"Yes. I presume you've already eaten with the Priestess?"

"I have."

"Good."

He studied me. "Are you eating for two, Sister?" he leaned to whisper with a smirk.

I kicked him under the table and he yelped, rubbing his unprotected shin through his robe. I didn't respond further; I was too hungry. I did manage to eat most of what was on the platter and Shyntre still regarded me with surprise.




Sufferance Ch. 10



Now I smirked back. "When a stronger body uses far more energy than it takes to study a book, wizard, that body has to eat more. Is this a difficult concept to grasp?"

He slowly shook his head. "No. I suppose, then, that most Noble Houses don't know how to feed a Red Sister."

"No, they don't. But it's rarely a requirement."

There was a pause in the quiet conversation as I observed the details around me. Not as decorative, overall, as D'Verin or even Itlaun. The materials were sturdy and as lovely as the simpler stuff could be made, but I'd often seen much better. Not quite as much wealth here at House Peniel.

"Does this House have a Consort?" I asked.

"You must have been tired indeed to wait this long to ask, Red Sister."

"Just answer the question, powder sifter."

"No, Sister, they do not have a Consort."

I was quiet as I chewed. After I'd swallowed, "Why is she visiting, then?"

Shyntre shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"With your history, I'd say yours was probably better."

One corner of his mouth rose up. "Possible."

"So you have a guess."

"Maybe. You want to hear it?"

I gave him a sarcastic look. "Are you feeling generous?"

"Not particularly, Sister. I wouldn't mind a trade, though."

"I didn't take anything else of yours."

"Just a trade of knowledge, that's all."

"A guess and actual information is not a balanced trade. Best you can ask is a guess from me."

He shrugged. "What about an educated guess?"

I shook my head. "Forget it. I'm no longer curious in your thoughts."

"You should be."

"I've heard it before, wizard."

He sighed. "Fine."

We were quiet the rest of the time. I finished up and we were heading back where I would settle in for a long eve just watching Kerse watch the Priestess and the wizard sleep. I wasn't looking forward to that, unless I could get him to sign with me.

Shyntre murmured again as we re-entered the guest wing. "I asked for a separate room in which to rest this time. The Priestess granted it."

I could admit I was surprised. "Just like that?"

"Well. For a bloodstone before we got here."

I remembered the two bloodstones that might still be sitting in the sink of water wrapped in cloth and bit back my curse. I'd forgotten. 

Or rather, I'd slept through any chance to put them back in place. I would just have to admit that I had swept the place and didn't appreciate being recorded having sex. Still, it might have been nice to have the option to choose whether to say anything or not.

"Thanks a sackload, wizard."

"Sorry. I didn't have a chance to warn you."

I shook my head. "I found those anyway, both of them. They were absorbing water waves the whole time."

"Ah," he smiled. "Thwarting her fetish, then."

"If spying is a fetish, I think it is a racial one."

Shyntre shrugged and we fell silent well before some servants would turn the corner. They stopped in their tracks when they saw us but only stepped aside when we didn't acknowledge them one way or another. Fortunate for them that they were heading the way we'd already gone. He stopped by the door closest to the Priestess's guest chamber and indicated he would go inside.

"I'll check your potions again tomorrow, if you like," he offered.

I nodded, noting how now he actually looked more exhausted than me; he had been awake and tending to the Priestess the entire time I'd been in reverie. "Get some rest. You look like death wrapped in a spider's egg sac."

"Lovely imagery, Sister. I shall try to recover my glowing skin and perfect hair in a single reverie, just for you."

I grinned; somehow that familiar derision and sarcasm had lifted my spirits a bit. "I'm still going to get you alone and naked, you know. You'll love it."

He rolled eyes. "Do wait until after this trip to *try,* Red Sister?" 

So consistently defiant. By Lolth, he would be such a delight to dominate.

"Absolutely. Consider it a courtship, then. I'll anticipate your invitation to the Tower."

He glared at me and I chuckled, choosing that moment to leave and return to Wilsira's room. Shyntre opted to let me have the last word and retreat alone into the privacy of his own guest room.

I was more envious of that than I was willing to show.

******

As it turned out, Kerse had saved me from even explaining the bloodstone. As I slept, he must have taken them back out of the water, dried them, and replaced them where they'd been—spent and dormant. I witnessed the Priestess blatantly pulled them back down, frowning as she gripped one in her hand before slipping it in her pocket. She looked at me and I smiled back knowingly. She harrumphed.

The Draegloth may have taken action against his dam again, but he was still maddening in his signing after she was in reverie that eve. We went around and around in circles and eventually, after more than four marks and getting nowhere, I gave up. Even being rested and aware, I was not able to get him to admit to any kind of cohesive plot. He even denied moving the bloodstones.

I stubbornly refused to doubt the hints I'd received, though; they had been real, my mind wasn't playing tricks on me. But the Draegloth only acted as he was expected to act from there on, and when we travelled once again to our second inn, Wilsira not only insisted on watching but also participating, and I had no more time alone with him.

Shyntre received his bloodstone back—the Priestess was not impressed with his personal one, he said—and he continued to advise me on the potency of the remaining, fast-diminishing potions but otherwise tried to stay out of the way. 

Wilsira's lack of close attention to him demonstrated that she was far more interested in me and her son than she was the wizard. At best, he was only here to have afforded her that first, tempting draw which had given her the opening she needed with which to trap me.

The wizard seemed quite glad he was being left alone, and eventually managed a sign that gave me a heads-up at one point. Due to his efforts, we were both gaining immunity to the particular incense the Priestess liked to use to encourage us to be more docile when lust filled the room. It was only coming slowly, as his resources were spare and some of it was trial and error.

On the road, the tension for me started to ramp up as the familiar shape of House Itlaun came into view. This was going to be the toughest of the tests; so many possibilities for compromising secrets, and I hadn't had a lot of time to think about plans and back-up plans. 

I was going to have to rely as much on my "creative improvisation" as I was my training, my knowledge, and observations. Intangible twins, please don't abandon me now.

I had my cowl up now, as I had often when attending the Priestess outside the bedroom. With luck it would give me more time to try to warn Curgia to silence about knowing me, before Wilsirathon talked to her.

In some way, even in these circumstances, I was looking forward to seeing Auslan again. Perhaps we would even interact, a private dance on the edge of a blade. I had to leave open the possibility that he would give something away to Wilsira, but...he and I both knew that would also get him yanked from House Itlaun immediately, possibly on this very trip, and his fate would be quite uncertain at that point.

Chances were much more likely that the Consort would do all he could to keep the Priestess from discovering our connection. I knew I would not give him away intentionally.

I was careful about not seeming too familiar with the surroundings as we entered the plantation grounds and eventually passed through the guarded gate. We were expected and welcomed with show and pomp that certainly wasn't typical for their everyday uniforms and drills, I knew from experience.

Matron Itlaun came down the steps to greet us in the courtyard, a sharp-eyed and elegant Drow, though her body did seem wasted. The Red Sisters were probing for possible poison or spells, but all so far seemed to indicate an illness she denied publicly but only nominally kept hidden from the Court. 

She was much older than my former Matron, but her current daughters were around my age. The Matron had needed to start over birthing and raising heirs when she lost all three of her previous, fully-grown batch to a series of events that may have been more ruthless purge than straight misfortune. Not even the Sisterhood had been able to uncover that, however. Still just misfortune in the notes.

Matron Itlaun had also taken direct control making sure her newest daughters caught more heirs early, and with a status-laden connection to the Priesthood no less. Tulia shone brightly with her pregnancy, young and simply happy for the moment as she did her mother's bidding without question, but I hadn't seen Curgia since talking with her in the garden. The two sisters were not far behind their Matron, and I studied the older sister while standing still behind the Priestess's small entourage.

Curgia was showing her pregnancy the same as her sister, now choosing to wear the gowns that made it apparent as opposed to cloaking it. Her back was straight and chin up as she walked into the courtyard behind her mother. She was not proud or simply happy as her sister, but she did not look miserable as she had before. I could almost think she'd gained some maturity in her face, a wizened shadow that her sister simply did not possess at this time. She was trying to overcome her fear.

Wilsirathon exchanged greetings with the Matron formally and the two daughters stepped forward to curtsy as well, as opposed to bowing awkwardly with bulging bellies.

"Such wealth your House is gaining, Itlaunia," the Priestess praised the Matron, referring specifically to her daughters, and even from where I was standing, I could tell when her eyes shifted from Tulia and fell on Curgia.

Kerse was not standing next to his mother but well behind her closer to the coach, and he was being quiet. However, the young Noble's resolve to maintain the gaze with the Priestess was tested sorely as she suppressed a shudder as she swallowed. 

She was indeed aware of the Draegloth though she hid it fairly well. She managed to keep her chin up, although she may have been looking at Wilsira's forehead or chin as opposed to her eyes. It was the better option in public if one was honest enough with one's self to know who would win an eye match. I couldn't really blame her. It was more impressive than I had been expecting.

"Your very presence only enhances it, Priestess," the Matron responded. "I pray our humble accommodations suit your too-brief time here."

The Priestess bowed. "It is my first visit; I look forward to a tour."

"Of course, Priestess."

"And is your Consort available? I should like to see him with his new family."

Fully expecting the request, Matron Itlaun bowed and turned to gesture while raising her voice, "Consort, come greet your Sponsor from the Sanctuary."

As at House D'Verin, the Consort would have been standing just out of sight in order to enter the courtyard so readily. Auslan was wearing a fine, pale garment of silk, his arms still bare, his neck fully accessible and displaying his owner's circlet, his legs visible to mid-thigh with sandals that allowed us to see well-formed feet. His hair had been pulled up into a top-knot but otherwise left flowing down his back.

There were too many reactions to catch all of them, but I focused on the Consort himself and my own traveling companions, figuring pride and appreciation were the most likely to be all the Matron and her daughters would show.

Wilsirathon looked him over from head to toe, asking him to turn around to show her his back and move his hair out of the way, much as she did with the lavender-eyed Consort at D'Verin. 

Auslan obeyed and moved with poise and grace, his face unreadable even with the Priestess reached to touch the symbol on the circlet. She next trailed her nails lightly down to his collar bone and playing with the edge of his garment at his chest, as if she might slip her fingers beneath the fabric to touch hidden, perfect skin, and he remained still without being stiff, watching her with an almost vacant expression.

She'd done the same to the D'Verin Consort, but he had betrayed some nervousness and self-consciousness, as if he wondered whether the Priestess would next instruct him to strip naked in front of the Household. It had amused the Priestess for certain, though she did not continue to harass him and he remained clothed in public.

She did not get the same source of amusement from Auslan, and I definitely felt satisfaction there. Even some pride. In a different life, I may have searched for one like him to be my companion and consort if I'd in actuality become Matron of House Thalluen. Coupled with the proper domestic skills, he would be quite a valuable prize to have at one's side at Court and at home.

That particular life was long out of reach, however, and I did not yearn for it now. The intrigue and secrets I shared with him would have to be enough, given my true calling.

The reactions of my other two travelling companions as this went on were surprisingly similar. The Draegloth slunk back closer to the coach and he seemed to try to make himself a bit smaller, looking away and setting his jaw. He was not so much intimidated as he was pouting, I thought. The wizard, by the same token, crossed his arms and I knew that set look of distain well. Even though both kept their eyes averted and did not stare with hostility at Auslan, it was clear that neither of them liked the Consort.

The reaction was stronger than it had been with the purple-eyed Consort. Was that personal, or due to the unequal functions and status of the place each male held? Knowing now that the two sulking males had lived in proximity to each other before the wizard was relocated, and that there was a personal grudge there, I knew it was entirely possible that Auslan had grown up around them as well. Shyntre and Kerse hadn't seemed quite this annoyed around the D'Verin Consort—but that one had been younger than Auslan, less experienced.

I wondered whether my Consort and my wizard were around the same age? It was hard to tell; Shyntre looked his age of two centuries, but Auslan was so distracting and atypical in his beauty that I didn't truly know. I only knew they were both older than me.

The challenges and distractions that faced me now due to these three males whom I had met individually but somehow were all connected thanks to the Priestesses...they were threatening to overspill. Meanwhile I still had to pleasure the Draegloth and satisfy his mother in her thinking that she may have her claws in me, just as she had them in Curgia.

I shifted a few steps at a chosen moment, as pleasantries started up again and the Priestess complimented the House on the Consort's continued health. The movement drew the eyes of the family members of the House; by all accounts, they'd known I was there but were ignoring me in favor of the greeting rituals. My movement made them nervous, but also placed my covered face farther out of Curgia's view and closer to Auslan's. It was a risk, but if he had controlled his responses so well now, I couldn't imagine he wouldn't continue doing so.

We made eye contact very briefly, and he looked away. His expression did not change and his body temperature increased no more than it had with the others; his energy was heightened but it was easily explained away. He did, however, straighten his garment a bit down by his thighs, holding on to the hem just a little longer than necessary. 

It was just about exactly where we had been playing tug-of-war with his modesty all those months ago, as I'd had his back pressed against his wardrobe with no escape. I'd kissed him, and unlike our first encounter on the farm...he'd submitted to my kiss and answered it.

The only other lips I'd kissed recently were Gaelan's...and Callitro's when I'd forced him to share his own seed on our tongues. As habit I did not kiss many; only those I had dominated in some way. Auslan's was different because...it had left me with the greater regret. I still wished, intensely, there was a win-win way to fuck him.

The Consort did not look at me again in that courtyard, but I was sure that he knew it was me. He was perfect for this kind of intrigue, had been groomed for it his whole life.

After that, the Priestess and her entourage went through a now-familiar routine to get settled into new guest rooms. I moved methodically and slowly as before, checking over the room, ignoring that the overall scent of the place which was actually familiar. 

The wizard had been sent for food and drink. He had protested, rightly so, saying that this was the servants' job, but he'd been sent away anyway. I knew it was because Wislira wanted to talk to me alone.

Wilsira was scratching beneath Kerse's chin, looking thoughtful, when she said, "Kerse needs a quick mounting, Sirana, before we visit the firstborn daughter this mid-cycle."

I turned to look at her. "It is a touch early for the mid-cycle. Why now?"

"Because he knows her, as he knows you."

She was watching my face carefully, and I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

"You mean...?"

She lifted her chin, still studying me but making no reply.

"Ah," I hesitated. "You mean he has coupled with her...is this one of those 'seductions' you mentioned when you could not tend him?"

"Yes," she answered in what I knew to be an outright lie. "Exactly why I have been so grateful for your help in this journey, Sirana. You saw that she carried, correct?"

I nodded. At least she had confirmed that she definitely didn't know I'd been watching that particular fertilization, even though Kerse had.

When she didn't continue, I blinked in near-genuine amazement. "Wait...did she catch from...the bulge is from him?"

"Unfortunately," Wilsira sighed, leading the reveals with relaxed confidence. "The only mistake so far. But she has been in denial, hoping it to be their new Consort's offspring instead, since it was close timing with the last worship ball. It cannot be, my son came first, if you'll pardon my saying." Her mouth quirked slightly. "I am here to see what may be done with her."

In that case, so was I.

I pondered some. "You mentioned denial. Is she refusing an abortion, then? Have you offered?"

The Priestess nodded and she sighed. "At first. She was terrified it could be the Consort's still and did not want to risk such an insult as shedding such valuable offspring. She may yet change her mind. I hope she does, as I am quite certain that she risks no insult."

"Hm. Would there be an advantage to letting her birth it?"

"No, none."

"Really? None?"

The Priestess smiled. Kerse had shifted to stand behind his mother when she had turned her attention fully on me. She couldn't see him but I noted that, along with narrowed eyes and a frown, his pointed ears had somehow flattened closer to his skull. I hadn't seen that trait before...he didn't look happy.

"And the disadvantages?" I added.

She shrugged. "Plenty, but there aren't many quarter-breeds that have been studied."

"Seems unusual, given how much the half-breeds are focused on sex."

"Most of those pregnancies are never completed. Those that are...well, you are probably not of high enough rank yet to have been told."

I opted to ignore that last jab. She obviously still wanted to talk about other things, if not that. "Not completed on whose order?"

"The desire of the families, mostly. Although I do believe our Valsharess was the one who first began discouraging the mixing of blood. The primary birthing is necessary for the Priesthood and our power, but she did not want us creating a new race over time. Thus such birthing of further diluted Abyssal blood has never held any status, only distain."




Sufferance Ch. 10



I genuinely felt confused here. No status and a Valsharess precedent against it? Why would Wilsira want me to catch from Kerse, then? How easy would it be to avoid spending two years at the Sanctuary by simply terminating the pregnancy due to the mixed blood? Surely D'Shea would have that part covered even if I did become pregnant...

"I'd like you and Kerse both to be with me when I talk to Cugia, Sirana. Will you take the edge off for my son, then we shall be on our way? It should not take more than a quarter mark, you do not even need to remove your uniform. Just take down your leathers."

I considered as Kerse perked up, and found myself reaching for my belt.

Then I froze.

No. There was no such thing as a "quick mounting" when I had to take a potion a full mark beforehand. What by Lolth's Snatch was she doing with her voice to make me want to be so lax and take her suggestions?

I shook my head. "You'll have to wait until the prevention potion takes effect, Priestess."

"My schedule doesn't allow that, Red Sister," she said. "And surely the timing of your cycle is not right anyway? If something happens, we can take care of it later."

*No...No. No.*

I shook my head again. "No, Priestess. My apologies. We wait, or..." 

Somehow I felt an unseen pressure that settled in a similar place in my head as when the Duergar had made psionic attacks. It wasn't quite the same, but then I knew Wilsira was not psionic. No Drow was.

Still, the pressure mounted like water against a weakening dam, insisting I agree to immediate copulation...it wouldn't stop until I did. She'd never been this heavy-handed before...

*Vilrohn Drowen...* The voice—my voice— was derisive, and it seemed my answer should be obvious.

"Of course, yes. We can be safe and use use an alternative orifice, Priestess."

Wilsira blinked and did not look happy for a moment—quite irritated, in fact—as the pressure dissipated inside my head entirely. She smoothed her face soon enough and sighed. "Very well. I will not have him frustrated as he meets one of his past lovers again."

I shrugged as if I didn't care much about that. "Ask him to sit in that chair, Priestess."

She obliged me, and Kerse obeyed, watching the two of us with definite interest. He could sense the power struggle clearly, but was not playing it himself. He was acting the pawn, though he certainly wouldn't refuse the sex.

First I knelt to pleasure him with my mouth, much to his purring delight, but I did not wait long before setting my cloak just to the side on the floor and turning my backside toward him. I stood between his splayed thighs and lifted my belt to begin unlacing my pants. 

Kerse chirped excitedly as I bared my bottom to him, his tongue flicking out to lick the skin and dive briefly into the crack, making me gasp. He knew perfectly well what I intended and did not even care that I would still have my reds and tools on.

Well, he might care a little as they poked him, but we'd see. It was a "quickie," after all.

I did have a small bottle of oil on my belt that could lubricate my passage, and I used that to prepare myself. Kerse never took his eyes away and I gave him the full show, taking my time to apply it inside and out. Then I sat down onto his lap, greasing up his member as it slid length-wise between my buttocks; he took hold of my bare hips and rumbled encouragingly. In due time, I shifted my hips and his erection, placing him at the ideal point for penetration, and slowly sank down on him.

"Let him see him spearing you in the mirror, Sirana, he'll finish more quickly and it will be better for him."

The bulge at the base of his member had formed by the time Shyntre returned with the food. In his mind it was possibly the worst scenario for him to walk in on. The incense was burning and at Wilsira's request, we'd already shifted to face the full-length mirror. 

I was leaning back against Kerse's chest, had my pants bunched at my knees and had lifted my legs to plant my boots on his hard knees, spreading them wide. We were facing away from the door, but now we could see the wizard and he could see us in the mirror, Kerse clearly buried in my rectum. His mouth dropped open.

"Put that tray down, wizard, and come here." The Priestess opened her thighs and began lifting her robes. 

Alas, Shyntre wouldn't be watching me run Kerse's crooked erection through my tightest hole for long. Soon enough, he was kneeling as well as serving the Priestess with his mouth.

The Draegloth helped balance me, holding my waist or my buttocks, as I stroked him under my own power, reaching to touch myself. It still felt plainly good the way his organ spread my body wide open, and I could let go of the worry that a potion would fail me. It wouldn't matter; he could spurt all he wanted in this hole and there would be no living consequences later.

Kerse gnarred next to my ear, hissing in pleasure, and let me set the pace. His yellow eyes were rapt on the action in the mirror and I knew I felt him throb a few times, spaced seconds apart; the Priestess had been right, he was getting close very quickly.

Fortunately, so was I. Shyntre walking in when he had made me want to laugh and only heightened the wickedly pleasurable sensations. I directed the pace for my own climb, not Kerse's, my fingers pressed to my sex and rubbing just so.

For a very sweet moment, I forgot that I was trapped into doing this, that I was being used and very much still in danger as Wilsira wouldn't give up so easily. I could let it go, just for this one glorious, upward sweep.

The unusual but now familiar shape of his prick started nudging more urgently at my back hole, his soft and pleading croons asking to allow the rest of him inside. He thrust his hips up in suggestion a few times but didn't try to restrain me or force me down onto him. 

I ignored the hints at first, just to see how far he could be teased, and was a bit surprised when he did not get petulant or try to take back control. Something about the submissive sign of respect made me feel far more generous and excited at the prospect.

*Yes...oh, Lolth, I want that...* 

Unlike his mother's claim, it didn't take me so long to work the knot in. I already had more control over that orifice in general, and I understood how many different sizes and shapes could fit in our pleasure holes. 

I had also had the time to adjust, and I enjoyed the slow but inexorable expansion as Kerse nearly held his breath, going still as I controlled the final phase. We both squealed in glee as his knot at last slipped inside with a sudden lurch.

Unlike the last time, I was not so uncomfortable; I was squirming in delight and after a few harder fingers trokes on my pussy, I began to climax. I almost missed my Sisters on this account and wondered whether they would cheer at my accomplishment if they had been watching this? Jaunda and her team especially would enjoy the view and how full I was.

Kerse writhed beneath as my muscles flexed and caressed him from the inside, and he made a sound I'd never heard before as he began spurting inside me; much closer to the genuine, ecstatic cry of a Drow than the howl of a demon.

"Oh, my..." the Priestess breathed behind us, and I opened my eyes to look at her in the mirror as I came down, still feeling the pulses and throbs of her son continuing deep inside.

Shyntre still had his face buried in Wilsira's snatch and her face was flushed with energy as she was on the cusp of climaxing herself. She grimaced and buried her fingers in the wizard's hair, her breasts heaving as she huffed and gasped and more moisture smeared over Shyntre's face. 

Immediately after she jerked him away completely by his hair, trying to catch her breath. She leaned back, releasing him and again seemed to have forgotten him completely as she watched us. I noticed the scent of the incense was dissipating.

Shyntre got up and started making his way to the bathing room quickly, his face a mask of anger of which I got only a glimpse. I could not do much until Kerse's bulb shrank enough to free me, and until then I had to sit on his lap impaled, but I hoped to still catch him in that moment of weakness if I could...

"Impressive, Sirana," the Priestess sighed. "You... genuinely enjoy him. I don't know how I will do without you."

That spoiled some of the afterglow for me as I fully recalled where I was once again, and Kerse shifted beneath me, now not sure what to do with his hands. It was almost comical as my boots touched the floor and we had to cooperate to stand, tied together.

I put my hands on the mirror, leaning over slightly for comfort as Kerse loomed over my back, still breathing deeply. I said to the Priestess, "Would you pass me that hand towel there?"

Chuckling, Wilsira deigned to visit the small wash basin by the vanity and pluck up the plush towel, handing it out to me. I draped it over my leathers between my legs and wriggled my hips a bit.

"Whenever you're ready," I looked up at Kerse in the mirror.

He tugged, testing, but we had to wait a little longer still. Wilsira checked the candle.

"We should leave soon, Sirana." She sounded far too amused. I probably would be, too, with the circumstances reversed. 

"When practical, Priestess."

Finally, when Kerse could withdraw at last with that typical, mutual groan of relief, the towel protected my garments from the first globs of ejaculate. However, more cum dripped down my thighs as my open netherhole twitched at the sudden vacancy, trying to close itself again.

"I'll wash first," I said as I used the towel to give a cursory wipe. "Be out soon."

I tugged up my pants only enough so that I could walk without having to waddle, and let myself into the bathing room. 

Shyntre was still there, sitting on the edge of an empty tub. He'd long since cleaned off his face but he jerked his hand away from his crotch when I barged in. His robes were still fully in place; if he'd been doing anything to himself then it had been through his clothes. But he still looked angry...and uncertain.

"Don't mind me," I said as I went to the sink and began washing myself up as well with a fresh cloth and hot running water.

He was quiet, observing me closely, until I had pulled up my pants and was in the process of resetting my belt and items where they should be. He never spoke, but he did sign.

*I hate it here.*

*It is not ideal for me, either,* I responded. *At least you rest first. You are staying here while we go out.*

He nodded, looking glad for that. I studied his robes for a moment then reached quickly to touch him. He didn't have the room to dodge or jump back so tried to grip my wrist instead, but he didn't have the strength to keep me from feeling his partial erection through the robe as well as the residual heat that told me he'd started softening only just now when I'd walked in. I let him go voluntarily and he breathed out in relief.

*Why not just make yourself climax, wizard, if you were aroused out there?* I asked. *Why sit frustrated?*

He shook his head. *None of your business.*

*Want help?* I smirked, making a stroking gesture. *The hand of another, perhaps?*

He shifted farther along the tub to get distance so he could dodge if I tried to reach out for him again. *Do Not. Touch. Me.*

*Careful, you will arouse me again.*

He glared, raised his hands, then thought better of what he'd been about to sign. My guess was it was something about his not being able to use the same hole again so soon after being stretched beyond use. Call it a hunch.

"Sirana? We must leave," Wilsira called out from the bedroom. "Kerse still needs to clean up."

"Coming," I replied, and gestured for Shyntre to follow. 

There was plenty of motivation for the mage to exit with me and keep my body in between him and Kerse. The Draegloth and the Priestess had already helped themselves to the tray of food out of our sight, so unfortunately I couldn't do the same and neither could the wizard. I was growing hungry but would have to pass for now. The Priestess noticed but did not comment.

Once Kerse had returned, also clean, we prepared to leave.

"The night watch will be yours this time, wizard. Get some rest to prepare for it," Wilsira instructed, and he murmured an affirmative reply.

We left him alone to corner yet another victim already familiar with the Priestess's abuse.

****

"Allow me to go in first, Priestess," I murmured. "I'll make sure she hasn't set any physical trap."

"She would not have the spine."

I shrugged. "All the same. The door is locked. Best not get complacent, Priestess. Please stand farther away, will you?"

"Very well, very well," she said impatiently as she and Kerse moved back.

Thank Lolth for small favors. Although I knew the habitual behavior helped as well; I'd gone in first at nearly every door to which I'd escorted Wilsira on this trip so far. It would allow me my best chance at avoiding the single largest pitfall of this challenge.

It took moments to pick the lock and find the right angle on my bracer to break the small ward on the door. It was reasonable behavior for a paranoid Noble but not enough magical resources to even make it a challenge. I slipped inside the door and left it open a crack.

Curgia was sitting at her desk writing in a bound book by candlelight. I was moving just as she paused at the change of energy in the room—the warning that the ward was broken— before she had even thought to put down her instrument. It fell from her hand and clattered to the floor when I grabbed her and smothered her nose and mouth with my gloved hand, holding her tight against me with my arm crossed over her chest. She was still sitting.

"No noise," I whispered, and she trembled. "I'll have my favor in return, Noble, but not now. Right now, you'll do as I say. See what she has to offer you. She's right outside your door now. You've never seen me before, understand? If you look to me for direction even once, I'll save you the trouble of living through the next year and cut open your belly right here and now."

She hadn't seen me yet, actually, but she knew exactly who held her. She nodded urgently, pawing at my hand to at least allow her to breathe through her nose. I obliged, and she sucked in a desperate breath before she moaned in muffled dread.

"Understand? No direction. You don't know me."

Again she nodded, and I could see her eyes glistening. She was terrified, staring vacantly. I dug in my pouch for the wizard's bloodstone and placed it on her desk, covering it with her own book. I murmured the command word.

"Don't touch this. Talk with her. Make your deal, merchant, and you'll stay alive."

Again Curgia nodded, having the strength at last to glance at me when I released her mouth and stood up again. She at least understood I was not planning to kill her. This eve, anyway.

"Clear, Priestess," I said, only raising my voice a little as I glanced toward the door.

I hauled Curgia out of her chair, holding her by her hair and by tightly-gripped upper arm to face them as Wilsira and Kerse let themselves inside, closing the door behind them.

"Oh, Lolth," Curgia murmured, beginning to tremble more visibly as she indeed recognized them both. She didn't look directly at me but she did lower her head and lean toward me. My threat notwithstanding, she still felt safer next to me than she did in the middle of the room, closer to the Sanctuary representative. She wasn't even trying to get away from me.

Wilsira cocked a white eyebrow at me. "Why are you holding her that way?"

"She tried to run when she saw me," I answered casually. "I scared her rather badly, I'm afraid. She can barely stand."

Wilsira grunted. "Well, release her. I do not think she will try again."

I did, and Curgia had to catch herself to keep from falling. After succeeding in that, she stood lost between us, not knowing what to do. I could see the gleam of the predator in the Priestess's eyes as she looked at Curgia.

Kerse stood just behind Wilsira, actually looked apathetic except that he did glance once at the young Drow's modestly distended belly. He certainly understood the concept of mating for procreation—his mother's own language when she was horny practically shoved it down his throat—but I could not tell right then whether he would be curious, hostile, or indifferent toward Curgia's child, if it were ever born.

That truly remained to be seen.

Curgia focused only on slowing her breathing for the first few moments, and Wilslirathon chose her moment to speak.

"I received your messages, child," she said. "Forgive me for the lack of reply for so long, I've been rather busy. I'm here to discuss your options."

"Pr...Priestess," the Noble made an immense effort to collect herself and attempted a small bow. "You could not have announced yourself in a more...traditional fashion?"

The older Drow chuckled. "The Red Sister is overzealous when it comes to my safety. I apologize on her behalf if she startled you. I had thought she would announce me, but then I forget at times how...distant... from normal society the enforcers actually are."

Curgia nodded, and though she wanted to look at me, she didn't. Even if she had, it would have been a natural thing to do as they were talking about me. Nothing had been given away in this first moment, fortunately for me. I'd forced the Noble to feel all her fear and dread at once, and she'd had the perfect excuse for trembling with intense confusion when Wilsira walked in. 

Now, with my warning behind her and the Priestess having reassured her that she was here to discuss a bargain, the intrigue continued, the merchant was back in more familiar territory.

Step one.

"Sirana, please stand outside? Kerse will stay with me, I will be safe. This is private."

Damn it.

I bowed slowly. "Of course, Priestess. Call me if you have need, or when you're ready to leave."

"Of course. Thank you, Red Sister."

At this point, I had taken a very necessary risk with that bloodstone; Shyntre could only cast it for visual or aural, and I'd chosen aural. Why? Only because I thought Curgia was not very proficient in signing complex conversations, and I'd rarely seen the Priestess do so. Both of them seemed to prefer to use their tongues, even in private conversations. 

However, if they did mostly sign, then I was simply fucked, because I wouldn't hear a damned word from that stone.

But then again, if I'd chosen visual and they just sat and talked the entire time, I also wouldn't hear a damned thing. I'd only have managed, at best, a one-sided conversation from reading lips. And if I didn't catch the mouthed words the first time? Gone forever.

Luck played so much into spying, more than some realized, and no method was foolproof. It was why having a reputation was so important.

It was a very tense time for me standing outside. Servants gave me very wide berth and all I could think about was whether Curgia could follow my instructions, or whether the Priestess would intimidate her so that she would babble and give quite a lot away.

The longer I waited, the more I wasn't sure if it was a good sign or not.

What was taking so long?

Meanwhile, my conversation with Shyntre the previous cycle, having arrived at the second inn during a rare moment outside, played across my mind's eye as if I were watching from a bloodstone as well. 

I had known, at some point, Wilsirathon would talk to Curgia. That was one of my ongoing missions; to find out more of the Priestess's interests at House Itlaun, especially regarding the pregnant Drow. I still had to act on that mission where I could, in spite of my personal entanglement in the plot, so I'd asked the mage for his bloodstone.

*You traded it to her without telling me, wizard, so you can trade it to me without telling her.*




Sufferance Ch. 10



*If she finds out the stone is mine, I'll only have more trouble. It's not worth it.*

*She won't find out.*

*Drider dung.*

*It's only a back-up, I may not need to use it.*

*What is at this last House that you need to listen so badly? You never asked this before.*

I suppressed a laugh. *What does that sapphire pendant mean to you?*

*Fuck you, Sister.*

*Anytime, mage.*

The only thing we'd ultimately been willing to trade for his readied bloodstone was some of my last remaining sneeze powder. Well, that wasn't true. The first thing he'd asked for was a promise not to molest him, ever, but I'd refused. So we'd gone with something on my belt that I would part with.

I waited now for Wilsira to call me back in, although when that call finally came, I was cautious going back inside, trying to see all details at once.

The two seemed to have only just stood up from two chairs set before an unlit hearth; Kerse was crouching nearly beside and slightly behind his mother. The Priestess smiled at me; her eyes were glittering with satisfaction. She certainly felt she'd gotten that for which she came.

Curgia herself didn't look so beaten down as before; she actually looked...hopeful. She was avoiding looking at Kerse, still, but I did see her touch the curve of her abdomen. She had the book in which she'd been writing now in her lap and she fiddled with the pages. 

They'd come to an agreement of some kind, and at one point, Curgia had gone back to her desk where the bloodstone had been to retrieve her book.

I approached the three of them, and the Priestess indulged in another look at the pregnant Noble while Curgia avoided my eyes. By contrast, Kerse stared intently at me. When I glanced at him, he nodded once, barely, and I saw his arm move a bit, just enough to draw my eyes. Something was palmed in his left hand.

Hm. Well, I'd known he could sense those stones. Somehow I could imagine Kerse following Curgia, playing with her as the Priestess watched and chuckled, and the Noble yielding the stone to him. Now I just had to get it back.

"Are you ready, Priestess?" I asked.

"Indeed I am, Sister. I believe we are to meet the Matron for that tour before we dine."

That was a long and boring thing, that tour. Curgia had excused herself, pleading belly-tiredness, and so it was the Matron and Tulia who walked with us. I pretended to listen to the drone of detail, and I certainly guarded like I was supposed to, but I knew the grounds well already. Though I tried to catch Kerse's eye from time to time, to hint for him to slip the bloodstone back to me, he attended his mother with vigilant tenacity and made no such moves.

I supposed too many servants and hidden eyes were watching in any regard. Much better for Kerse to have claimed the stone first than Curgia—who very well may have used it for a bargaining chip, even though she had to know she was taking a risk when I'd told her not to touch it. Bargain with a Priestess for a Red Sister's possession? Only if you were certain the Priestess could, and would, protect you from the Sister's wrath... 

Still, short-sightedness and greed was all it took to do stupid things. I knew that as well as anyone.

"Ah, Consort, good to find you here," Matron Itlaun said with her velvet timber.

We were touring the gardens now, which indeed were more impressive than the other two Houses at which we'd been, and Auslan had strolled out casually, studying a few of the sculptures and cultivated growths in perfect view. 

I'd eat my bracers with spider jelly if that had been sheer luck. 

"Would you like to join us in our walk?"

Auslan had smiled demurely and nodded. "I would, Matron. Thank you."

Tulia smiled widely and stepped up to greet the sire of her child, caressing his face although she did not kiss him or do anything particularly sexual. "You always brighten the darkness just with your presence, En—ah, Consort."

Tulia's mother had shot her an absolutely scalding look. Tulia had nearly used Auslan's private, given name for House Itlaun. Apparently the young daughter wasn't used to many visitors. I saw Wilsira cover her mouth to hide a laugh.

My Consort stayed dutifully close to the Matron and Tulia the entire time—aggravatingly, he was usually in front of me and my eyes were drawn to his backside on several occasions—and he did not do anything that would make it seem he was trying to get my attention.

Perhaps he wasn't. Not directly. He could just be taunting, paying me back for past harassment; striding ahead of me like that, so teasingly out of reach, his fingers intertwined with those of the second Itlaun daughter as they walked side-by-side.

Damn him and his perfect ass. I did not feel as much envy for Tulia's swollen belly as I felt knowing what had been required to make it so. I was quite sure that if I lifted his garment right now, he would be as nude as he had been when I'd bent him over that table with a root stuffed in his mouth. I knew I wouldn't have to penetrate him to force an erection on him now, however; it would happen of his own free will and desire.

I concentrated on my breathing and looking around at other things. The Consort may not be the most threatening figure here, but he was fast approaching the most deadly source of distraction.

It would be my own fault if the Matron, the Priestess, or her son realized that.

I focused instead on Kerse, glancing periodically to see he still palmed the wizard's bloodstone. It may contain a very interesting conversation and I truly needed to get it back. The Draegloth had proven he was not an idiot; what would he want in exchange? He certainly seemed willing to deal.

The unspoken tension within the tour group was broken suddenly when a small, furry piglet exploded from the foliage. It squealed as it came from the right, bolted right beneath our feet in the middle of our group to punch out the other side. 

I'd already drawn a pellet and had my arm back ready to pitch it. Once thrown down, it would catch the piglet in sticky webs, but I didn't have the chance to let enough distance grow between the target and our group before Kerse roared and surged after it, instinctively trying to catch it.

The main problem with Kerse's charge was that Auslan and I were both in his way.

He shouldered into me first, his hands shoving at my middle from the side, and I could only use the momentum to catch hold of the Consort and get us both out of the way while trying to avoid breaking the pellet in the process. The last thing I needed was to be wrapped up in sticky webs while lying atop Auslan.

We knocked into Tulia as well, and though she stumbled she did not fall. I heard Auslan grunt in pain when we landed but managed not to crush the pellet in my palm.

"DRAEGLOTH!" Wilsira's voice boomed, "DESIST!"

His snarling stopped abruptly and he whined in apology. His mother was furious at the embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Auslan finally up looked at me, his face flushed with bright energy, his copper eyes wide in a fright that I did not believe was as genuine as he'd have his mistresses believe. We caught each other's scents again—oh, Lolth, he was tasty—and I forced myself to get off him just as I realized he was starting to stiffen beneath his wrap.

I helped him get to his feet, holding his elegant hand for a moment as I yanked him up with more force than necessary, knowing he was much sturdier than spun glass. He hunched over holding his side as if he was sore, deftly hiding his partial erection.

"Consort, are you okay?" Tulia cried, quickly checking him for injuries as I stepped back. She was barely willing to touch him in case that alone was too much for him to handle, or perhaps because I was standing too close for her liking. She did glance at me; I dared her to accuse me of mishandling the Consort, and she looked away quickly.

"Yes...yes, Mistress, I'm fine," he gasped. "Just had...the wind knocked out...."

A loud slap sounded behind me as Wilsira struck Kerse across the face, hissing low at him that none of us could quite hear. He nodded and whined an apology again, acting completely subservient. He'd actually caught the piglet, though, and his fingers were covered in blood as he'd seized it with both hands.

It was at that point that I became aware of what was decidedly a source of pain. Then I felt an odd-shaped, hard object prodding at the wound...

I turned so I had the benefit of my cloak to cover my hands and searched my right side. I was astonished to find the bloodstone that he'd once been palming, now wedged behind my belt and, amazingly, shoved down my pants. 

The Draegloth had forced his way up and under the armor, and his claws had ripped my leathers and my skin. I was bleeding, though not badly enough for it to have flowed onto Auslan the brief second I'd been atop him.

Kerse had used the distraction of the piglet...to give the bloodstone back to me?

Without asking anything from me first?

Though it had solved one of my immediate problems, it made me feel much more wary of Kerse's motives as a result. And now I also had to think about how to heal the claw marks well before to the next time I was required to strip naked in front of the Priestess. I didn't want to take my final healing potion for something this small; there had to be another option...something topical.

"I apologize, Priestess, I had not realized your son was so hungry," the Matron said apologetically. "We can have the servants prepare that piglet, and more, right now if needed. We are just about finished with the tour, anyway."

Gracious of the Matron to give Wilsira such an easy way out; the Priestess was aware of it but paused as if she were somewhat hesitant to accept. 

In the end, however, she nodded her head. "A bit early for your House dining, I know, but he will be less distracting if he eats first, as he will be attending. Our thanks, Matron."

"You and he are quite welcome."

Tulia was inexperienced enough to show a touch of dismay at the thought of trying to eat with the Draegloth staring at the everyone at the table, but Matron Itlaun's grace almost made up for it as she actually acknowledged Kerse in her bow and nod to the Priestess. It appeased Wilsira well enough.

With the bloodstone—stained with my actual blood, both humorous and unsettling in a way—now tucked safely in a pouch, I still had the problem of unclean claw marks pulsing a mild but constant irritation beneath my armor. Kerse had been paying attention to how my armor was put together to have been able to dive at a chink with such precision at a moment's charge; but then, he'd had a lot of opportunity of late to observe.

It was a long meal of which I could not partake as I stood behind the Priestess, again present but tacitly ignored. I might wager that some at House Itlaun figured a Red Sister never ate at all. The one time my stomach did rumble, so did Kerse, and no one heard it over his bass.

It was somehow irritating to have him helping me so much...though in truth, it was only irritating because I did not know what he wanted in exchange. It would be something, but he had thus far refused even to admit that the something existed. I got the feeling he wanted me to believe the sex was enough, that he was trying to show his gratitude, but...I didn't believe it. He's proven not to be so simple in his head.

Once the early meal had finished with stomachs quite full, earlier established patterns helped me once again.

"I will escort you back to the room, Priestess, but then I must go to the kitchens to eat as well."

"Of course, my guardian. I continue to be impressed with your vigilance and power of intimidation."

I gave her a sidelong glance but forewent treading over old conversational ground.

At the kitchens I grabbed several of the mushroom hand pies, stuffing the well-stewed and spiced treats into my mouth and chewing quickly. I would be foolish to pass up the opportunity and hurt my alibi in the process, but my primary purpose for leaving the Priestess's side wasn't simply to eat. 

Saving the last pie for later, I slipped into the wing that held the Consort's bedroom. Unlike the previous two Houses, I knew exactly how to get inside unseen. Trade secret.

Auslan was wary when he saw me emerge from the deep shadow in one corner of his room. He had lit a single candle by the vanity, more to my advantage casting so many shadows, because he had been looking himself over recently though he was fully clothed now. He quickly touched his wardstone near the main door and murmured the command word, thus affording us some privacy from any who might press their ear to the door or try to peak in a crack.

The Consort said in that smooth, lovely voice, "It is early yet, Red Sister. I could still be visited. They will wonder why the ward is up."

I grinned. "We must be quick, then."

His brow lowered in confusion as I approached him, his expression turning slightly toward alarm when I lifted my belt and tugged down one side of my pants. However once he saw the injury, he seemed to understand and he relaxed a bit. He nodded and turned toward his vanity without being asked.

I'd long since thought that his high attention to the details of his appearance wasn't alone his own desire and obsession, but that he viewed it as absolutely necessary for his function.

Perhaps it was also one of his best weapons, when the female in question wasn't bending him over tables and stuffing roots in his mouth to gag him...

The Consort had selected a bottle and a cloth, gently tugging out the stopper before offering both to me.

I held my equipment out of the way, smirked and said, "You do it."

He blinked at me. "A fair bit of trust, isn't it?"

"I know you tend your own occasional scratches to keep your skin perfect. And if you wish to try some betrayal, Consort, go ahead. Just hope you succeed and I don't get my hands on you."

He shrugged off both my comments and wetted his cloth with the acrid-smelling potion inside the bottle, then slowly lowered himself onto one knee, eyes glancing at me warily from time to time. He gently wiped at the claw marks on my flank. I felt first a sting, then the warmth and itching associated with the skin beginning to heal and I sighed. 

It felt good, and I thought... wasn't this was the first time he'd reached out to touch me? Of course, that was because he had been told to, but at least I hadn't needed to grab his wrist and show him what to do.

He replaced his bottle and I claimed the blooded cloth for my own, for I would not leave something like that here in his room. He studied me for a moment more as I tucked it away.

"Why do you not have a topical healer yourself, with all those pouches on your belt?" he asked.

I arched a brow; I'd expected him to state the obvious about how the claw marks had gotten there. This question made me smile. "A scratch is not usually so important to me as it is for you. Other tools better justify the space. I cannot carry everything at once, Consort."

"But you would have a mere scratch healed now?"

"Maybe I just wanted an excuse to see you. Seeking healing was the reason I found you in the first place, you know." 

He looked uncertain at that point; a fact I enjoyed, given how well I knew he could hide his thoughts, normally. And I needed the distraction; we would not discuss that I could not have such a mark the next time the Priestess saw me naked, or why.

"Will not the Priestess miss you now?" he asked.

Meaning he was trying to bluff my bluff. Calling back to our first meeting wasn't enough to make him stop wondering why I stood next to the Priestess in public since I'd gotten here.

"You assume I'm at her leave?" I cocked a brow.

Auslan smiled just a bit. "You're her bodyguard for some reason. I can see that much, Sister."

He still didn't know my name, and I could never tell him. And he had had many names in his lifetime, including the one I'd given him...

"I trust I am not found out?" he asked, showing that bit of fear in his eyes. "The Priestess doesn't know that you know me?"

"Give me some credit, Auslan," I chuckled, and I could see his face heat a bit on the shadowed side when I said the name aloud. I loved that he could react to it. "No, she doesn't. And she won't know. There is enough time for a report. Anything interesting happening at this House besides the new guests?"

He hesitated. "Yes, but will you give me some reason you are in your present company? That is not usual for any Red Sister."

I thought about it. "Do you know my present company on a personal or functional level?"

"Both," he said. "Wilslirathon is one of my sponsors at the Sanctuary. By extension, I know her son, as do all Consorts now alive. He is always with her and has been for centuries."

"And the wizard?"

Auslan smiled wryly. "The bitter one? Yes, I know him."

He said nothing more, of course, as he watched my face. Sadly, he may have read something.

"Who was your sponsor for House D'Verin?" I asked, side-tracking slightly to begin the dance of give-and-take we both sensed we could get. The time was right. "I will tell you something true about why I am here."

"Wilsirathon, also," he answered.

"Has she always been? You said 'one of.'"

He shook his head. "She succeeded in claiming the Consorts of my first Priestess, who met with a...misfortune. I have been gifted ten times, Red Sister, and only these last two by Wilsirathon, but power and rank changes regularly even amongst those in Sanctuary."

His beautiful face looked at me expectantly.

"You were right about Curgia's piglet," I gave him. "She was forced, and Wilsirathon is responsible for it. She is here to check on her."

Overt beauty notwithstanding, his eyes shown with intelligence as he worked that over in his mind. "Hm. Something has changed here recently. Curgia has seemed to accept the pregnancy."

I nodded. "Part of Wilsirathon's plan."

Or not. But he didn't need to know that. I still didn't know what was on the bloodstone, after all, and it had certainly looked like the two had come to some kind of agreement.

My Consort was not quite satisfied. "Who is the sire that Curgia would have to be forced by a Priestess? As I understand it, she sought an early pregnancy, and may have accepted if a Priestess had simply asked."

"Any guesses?" I countered.

Auslan thought about it but ultimately shook his head. Perhaps he was not aware of Wilsira's little penchant for impregnating vulnerable targets using her own son. Perhaps he wouldn't be if his giftings were only recently given over to her to decide.

"I'll tell you if you tell me what you know about the wizard," I offered.

The Consort hesitated for some reason. "First tell me what he is to you."

So he had read something. Damn.

"Oh? Do you care?" I teased.

He shrugged. "I've been trained to watch who is interested in who, Red Sister. I can only tell it is personal for you, though. Is that why you are here?"

I tried a useless bluff out of sheer stubbornness. "Personal? No, I'm on a mission. Of course, I do take my success personally, Consort, so I can see where you'd get that."

He smiled and let me see that he didn't buy it. I honestly didn't know what I'd done or when he'd had his little perceptive moment, but he knew I was lying. However, he didn't say anything on it and didn't try to demand the information he'd asked for. He answered my request instead.

"Shyntre is, as far as I'm aware, the youngest Drow child birthed by a Red Sister and given to the Priestesses. There have been no others born in my lifetime though there are older ones. I do trust my source back at the Sanctuary on that."

Unfortunately, Auslan could clearly read that I was stunned. No wonder he'd given up so easily.




Sufferance Ch. 11



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 2013

And so more pieces reveal themselves. They can only spell trouble in the end. ;) 

*

The urgent feeling I'd had to get out of Auslan's room and back to the guest wing was not justified when I arrived. At Wilsira's quarters I had listened, heard nothing, and let myself in quietly as possible. Neither she nor Kerse were present. I was suspicious, wondering what else she was up to—and given that I had been up to my own plot, it was a given that she was doing the same.

Shyntre was in the room, however, and he still slept. Perhaps I'd underestimated how much of a toll this trip was taking on him as well, for him to still sleep even now. I'd known him to be in reverie when I'd left the Priestess and Draegloth at the room—and they must have left soon after, not to have woken him. 

I weighed going out as well to see if I could find the Priestess and her son—I needed to for multiple reasons, but.... Perhaps...perhaps not before taking this opportunity to study Shyntre in reverie. 

I drifted slowly toward the bed, lowering my weight gently so as not to jostle him. Only when I got close enough did I sense with the help of my bracers that he'd placed a "touch ward" on himself. If anyone with intent to make contact with him came close enough, he'd wake up suddenly no matter how deep he'd been in dreams. It was a good thing I'd only intended to watch him or his eyes would be open right now.

I smirked but could not deny the necessity of the ward, from his point of view. The only one he was willing to admit that he feared was Kerse, but he had no liking of either me or the Priestess as well. He truly did not want to be touched.

Now I had the best of all possible guesses why.

With his face relaxed and his eyes closed, the typical hostility and tension gone for the moment, I was careful not to assume that I'd seen his face before in another. His eyes—when they'd been open— were most similar in color to Rausery's, the darker crimson versus the brighter, coppery red, but absolutely nothing else about him looked like her. He had the features of a Noble at Court, the finer bone structure with hints of past beauty breeding that I could recognize.

I did not see his mother in his face, however. None of my living Sisters revealed themselves there. He may simply favor his sire much more, and the chances that I might've ever seen Shyntre's sire were similar to the chances I had ever danced upon the spider webs in the Garden at Court and not realized it. That is to say, unlikely.

Still, I wondered if...or, no, perhaps I simply wanted his face to seem familiar. I had been searching to see that face for months before, following my initiation. The mind could play its tricks and I couldn't really trust it now because my desire to know which Red Sister had last spent time with the Priestesses was too strong. I had to let it go for now.

I sighed softly, enjoying a rare moment of quiet. Thinking about my visit with Auslan delayed my leaving to find Wilsira a little more, as I considered the very last subject we'd discussed—the one of his choosing.

Fertility magic. An "extremely adept" Consort could also have done the same healing magic that Lelinahdara had on me during Lolth's Threshold? But using it on a healthy womb could have the reverse effect, could make a Drow sterile...and he'd been wondering whether the Sisterhood had "sterilized" their recruits that way, hence why there hadn't been more children since Shyntre.

It carried its own efficient logic, despite the fact that it had twisted at my sensibilities. Auslan had not put the possibility past the Sisterhood, which only supported our own reputation.

And what had I told him? No, it was individual to me. He could have thought that either that they had sterilized *only* me... or that they had chosen to heal my womb. One or the other. The truth was the Sisterhood hadn't chosen, the Priestess Lelinahdara had. But that wasn't important at the moment.

I considered what Auslan himself knew, what he'd witnessed...and nodded to myself. He would know for a fact that I'd been healed from a barren womb. Gaelan had demanded to know whether he'd loosed his seed inside me, even once, before she got there. He knew what happened when Red Sister became pregnant, so he would understand why she demanded an answer—at least in retrospect later, when I'd returned wearing the uniform.

Why had he pushed that subject with me so hard, then? He had recognized the magic in me, and he had answered Gaelan's question. He should have known why. Subject closed. Why think it was being used on a larger scale in reverse? I didn't really know. I'd have to talk to him again.

It was very interesting to look back now, knowing that Auslan had fought so hard because of that magic he sensed. He'd said his own would only "make it worse" for both of us...

...and I hadn't even realized that he was magical. I hadn't sensed it, and that detail had not been something well known amongst the Nobles. Beautiful, yes, and guaranteed to be fertile, yes. But...fertility magic? I suppose only if that was what they had always meant by "Blessed Grandson of Lolth." Was it very different from the divine magic, or a relative of it? Again, something else to make sense only once it was known, but the Priesthood and the Consorts had been very subtle about it with the public. Or again, maybe I was just too focused on myself to notice.

I had another thought on the darker side then, one I would never have considered before that the pretty, coveted prizes could even be involved. But say that an "adept" Consort could, if given the order, remove the fertility from a given House. The Consort would not be blamed for the lack of children because he was "blessed" by Lolth, everyone knew it. The Noble female would be the one who lacked Lolth's blessing. Such a waste. Such a shame. Such a curse.

And it would be true. I'd heard, only once in a long while, a Consort would stay a decade or more with a family and there would be no children from it. It was usually the first sign of a House's final downfall. Lolth's will, of course, to grant no children.

By Lolth's tits...

Again, underestimating all the males I'd ever known. Those elder, female Drow with power and pulling more strings already knew which males needed to be in their control. They already knew how to best use those males to their advantage. 

Those Drow certainly weren't those among ruling the Houses, much as they wished it so.

The "lesser sex," indeed! Every female who bought into that possessed a major vulnerability... which in a way it was exciting to me now. I could still watch from behind the scenes, smiling as powerful females made the same errors over and over. 

Had I remained fertile through my young life, had Juarinia not scarred me the way she had, I may have been the same. I would never have learned to appreciate the pleasure and deviant variety far beyond any desire for reproduction. That had been one of the qualities that had caught the Sisterhood's attention.

I compared that to my own birth mother. The Matron of House Thalluen, as far as I knew and I had looked into it, had not publicized the sire of her yet unborn child. It had been private, whomever she had chosen. I had to wonder if that was showing more wisdom on her part...had she become skeptical of accepting consorts recommended, traded, or chosen for her, or asking the Priestesses to be considered for a Bred Consort?

My late sisters and I hadn't shared the same sire, and none of our blood mother's consorts had stayed around for long. I knew my sire had come from a slightly higher House, Eleventh at the time, and had been a grandson of a Bred Consort—likely where I'd received the blue eyes, if not from somewhere deeper in my former Matron's line. At the time, she had been trying to form an alliance which ultimately fell through.

But she had me. After that, she had withdrawn from the fiercest competitions, working more defense and protection of what she already had. I never knew why and until now had never been curious. I'd always blamed for her being too cautious and weak, not enough offense.

I wondered now about what she knew and her motives, however...exactly when I wasn't supposed to care anymore.

The wizard shifted and drew in a deeper breath, his eyelids fluttering at last and I turned my head. Grinning, I waited until his eyes had opened completely before I leaned down and planted my mouth on his.

"Mmfgh!" he exclaimed as his body jolted hard and he tore his lips away, rolling off the bed. He had expected me to lunge for him, and when I didn't, he had too much momentum going to catch himself. He landed on the floor with a thump.

Oh, I hadn't had a good, hard laugh in quite a while! I enjoyed it so that my sides were starting to hurt.

"Sirana..." he growled, looking around the room and seeing only the two of us. "What in Lolth's name are you doing here?"

"Seeing how long I could watch you and not trip that 'touch ward,' Shyntre," I chortled. "Ample time to blow a poisonous dust over your face. I see what you mean about wards not being your specialty. You might want to work on the sensitivity of that spell."

He muttered something unintelligible which still communicated his bad mood.

"If I may say, you look well rested, sleeping beauty," I said.

The wizard shot me a scowl. "And what may I do for you this grand eve, oh vigilant one clearly lacking her Priestess?"

I ignored the bait and tapped my cheek thoughtfully. "Hm. Strip down nude for me?"

"Ha. Funny. No."

"Smear your endowment with glaze and let me suck it off?"

He wrinkled his nose slightly. "No!"

"I promise you'll get a taste after we're done. Please?"

He gave me the oddest look for a second before he got it. "Wha—NO!"

I sighed melodramatically, getting to my feet. "Ah well. Another time, then."

The mage rubbed his face hard and mutter again. "Lolth damn all Red Sisters..."

"I heard that."

"Good, I'm gla—wait! Oof!"

I loved a straight-up tackle sometimes. I grinned down from atop him as we lay on the floor, before I leaned to bite him on the neck. He struggled mightily but had never really learned any martial tricks to get out of a physical hold. I sucked on his skin hard, intending to leave a marking bruise there.

"Stop!" he cried. "Sirana...Kerse will see...!"

*They're back?* I lifted my mouth off and glanced at the still-closed door.

That had worked really well as a distraction. Bravo.

The wizard had time to flatten his palms against me and I felt a strong shock of energy burst out. Another of those damned short evocations.

"Owww!" I groaned, my right shoulder going numb as my heart seemed to tremble and skip in my chest, and I reached with my left hand to snatch hold of a nerve point in his side, pressing on it mercilessly.

"AUGH!" he blurted, his body jolting again as when I'd kissed him. "S-stop!"

"A-apologize first."

"You m-marked me first!"

I chuckled, shifting to another nerve point, pressing hard and growling, "You really think you're going to win this one, wizard? You won't get another chance to focus on an incantation."

He groaned as I caused as much pain as possible without breaking anything in his body. He said through gritted teeth, "O-okay, get off...just don't—I apologize for th-the shock!"

I got off him then, only now recalling this was exactly how Wilsira had walked in on us the last time... Rausery would be whipping me now for having such poor self-control. I rubbed at my shoulder, finally starting to regain some of the feeling in it. 

Maybe this wasn't such a great thing. The wizard I'd once hated so much...was growing to be nigh irresistible. He even smelled good now. Not as good as Auslan, but still...

Shyntre rolled and got unsteadily to his feet. A bit of sweat showed on his forehead as he caught his breath, likely from the stress of the pain. He looked a bit unsteady as he looked at me. "That spell normally paralyzes for a brief time."

I cocked a brow and smirked. "Well, it did hurt, if that's any consolation, mage. Just not enough. You must have fucked it up somehow."

He shook his head, and I caught something glimmering at his chest.

"You're not..." He paused as I kept staring. "What? What are you looking at?"

I was looking at his pendant which had tumbled out of his robes in our scuffle, now hanging and visible. It was glowing, a soft iridescent blue. Shyntre looked down and saw it as well, and he gasped softly. It was a surprise to him, too, apparently.

The wizard clutched the gem tightly in his hand and backed up a step in case I was about to lunge for it again.

"Is that normal?" I asked instead.

He narrowed crimson eyes at me. "No...it was inert when given to me."

"You've been fretting over a blue stone that normally has no function except to look pretty?"

He shrugged and snorted. "You all do the same over the Consorts."

I chuckled. That was especially funny because only a short time ago, I would have agreed with him about Auslan's only function being to look pretty.

"What did you do to it?" he asked, accusing.

I shrugged, considering whether that information was worth trading. "Nothing intentional, but I have a guess. How about that earlier guess you wanted to trade me?"

"Deal," he said immediately without haggling. "My *guess* is that Wilsira wanted to see the third daughter of House Peniel. I overheard the Maton say the girl has had 'another vision' from Lolth, and this apparently interests the Priestess even though it could just be bunk. There is a regular selection of such claims."

I nodded. "When did you overhear that?"

"While you were fucking the Draegloth, most likely."

I grinned. "Very well. My *guess* is that your gem was changed when a psionic fist struck it during a battle. It saved my heart from some of the ravages of the power, I'd wager, although it left a nasty bruise."

Shyntre stared at me for long moments. "Psionic fist? ...Illithids or...?"

"Duergar, actually."

He seemed to relax a tiny bit at that, but he still hooked his thumb on the leather thong to pull up the sapphire and peer at it closely. It had reverted back to its usual appearance while we'd been talking. "So why would it glow now only to stop?"

"I have no idea, wizard."

Again I could see his mind chewing at this change in events. He was fascinated and afraid at the same time. "The gem had been pressed between us when my spell went off...I recall feeling something different, but not...." He shook his head thoughtfully.

"Not pain?" I filled in.

He shook his head.

"It blunted the spell, perhaps?" I suggested.

His mouth twisted in irritation but he shrugged. "I don't know. Psionic energy is different from arcane energy. I don't see why one would affect the other just being present."

"So you have an unknown valuable, now. You should thank me."

"No, I shouldn't," he said bitterly. "A Red Sister will be visiting me at some point, after you've made your reports, and I will lose the gem again. They won't let me keep it now that it is changed and *you* know I have it."

"Fair points," I conceded. Embarrassingly, he was ahead of me. Not only was it impossible to leave the gem out of my reports because D'Shea had known I'd taken it with me, despite her strong suggestion to leave it with her, but if I came back without it then she'd know Shyntre had gotten it back anyway.

The mage pursed his lips until nearly all the blood left them, and I was mildly impressed that the next thing out of his mouth wasn't an attempt to bargain me to change my future report. 

"Here, take it back now."

He removed it from around his neck and tossed to back to me. I caught it more out of reflex as, until he'd actually done it, I thought he would hesitate or change his mind. He didn't.

"It's better this way," he murmured, even though there was a clear regret there.

I looked at the pendant in my palm. A sapphire cradled by a moon. "Better, why?"

Shyntre gave me an ugly look. "You see the reactions of others when one of your kind shows up to seize something from them; a possession, a confession, a life...and you ask why?"

I certainly remembered Kaltra's reaction most clearly. I shrugged. "Of course. My apology, mage. In actuality, this was not my intention."

He blinked in surprise at my words. Slowly I put the gem back around my neck and tucked it beneath my armor. 

I didn't really want it back myself...it was useless to me in that I still didn't know what it meant to him, and the chances he would ever tell me now were...well, only improved by the very interrogation methods he was trying to avoid in giving it back to me. Knowing what I knew now from Auslan about him...I didn't see the benefit in betraying his gesture now at the expense of what more I might learn from him later. 

It was now a gem I had no use for but could potentially be coveted by others for reasons beyond its beauty. Sort of like those rare Consorts born every so often who possessed visions from Lolth: the gem could end up more trouble for me than it was worth.

I wanted to give it back to Shyntre...but I would have to lie to D'Shea to make it viable to do so.

I didn't like the choice. I'd keep it...for now, but I knew it had an expiration date.

"Shall we go find the Priestess?" I suggested.

From Shyntre's expression, this trip could not be over soon enough for him, but he nodded nonetheless. "Yes."

****

It did not take long before the wizard and I split up in our search; we each had our methods to call the other if needed, and having space between us was helping us both to focus.

I'd swept most of the House and was outside in the gardens when I had begun to wonder if the Priestess and her son were even still on the estate. Then my instincts told me I was about to enter a tense space, and my senses followed that gut response immediately. I paused, cautious in my approach to this part of the garden.

I heard unintelligible but harsh whispers before I spied two forms facing off in a well-concealed bit of foliage. I took my time sliding forward, my silence my priority.

My eyes widened when I saw it was Auslan and Shyntre. The Consort stood straight with arms crossed and appeared the calmer of the two—no surprise, really—while the wizard had his hands fisted at his side, his stance hunched slightly as if he might physically attack the Consort.

The mage had his back to me in a three-quarter turn so I couldn't read his lips, and Auslan...again, not surprisingly...knew how to whisper while making it very difficult to read his. I could only read their body language and Auslan's expression—if he had one. Right now, he looked proud and curious, unintimidated in the face of whatever the wizard was hissing with teeth bared. The Consort replied serenely.

"Again n-...-r business...!" Shyntre hissed a bit louder in his anger.

It seemed his given response to everyone. None of their business.

Auslan still kept his lips stretched tighter with minimal movement as he replied, although now he looked more annoyed while trying his next tactic. Whatever it was, Shyntre flexed his hands as if he wanted to lose a spell on the other male but knew he couldn't.

"How...you know..." Some demand, and he was very irritated.

Auslan shrugged and looked smug in his reply. *I'm trained to notice....* I thought I read on his lips.

My gut instinct wove a fairly mundane exchange into a thought of whether Auslan was trying to find out more about me, or maybe just more about a Red Sister's presence (an understandable curiosity), or maybe even the wizard's connection with me. I myself had just had a similar exchange with the Consort and, after looking around me again, it was not an impossibility that Auslan had seen Shyntre out here from one of the windows and came down to intercept him.




Sufferance Ch. 11



Should I wait and see, or interfere? Was Shyntre likely to give anything away in a reaction in front of Auslan due to seeing me? Almost certainly. I just didn't know if it would matter. He didn't like me but I was interested in him. So what? That wasn't secret at all. The Consort already knew that.

More importantly, how good was Auslan had pretending he had never met me? Very good, yes, but I'd be catching him by surprise. Would I be causing undue risk to him by stepping out of the bushes? If Shyntre gleaned even a *thought* that Auslan and I knew each other....no, I couldn't risk that.

I had to go for the long-term benefit, here. I couldn't allow someone else to know that Auslan knew me, even if it meant the Consort learned more from Shyntre now than I'd like him to.

There were more frustratingly mute exchanges, but all I could gather was that Auslan was doing an excellent job slowly escalating the wizard's temper. He was poking at him similarly as he'd done me.

Then Shyntre shoved Auslan hard, hitting him in the chest and making him stumble backward. The Consort caught his balance but looked surprised at the strength of the wizard's reaction. I saw his hands come up as if he expected further violence and would have a response ready.

The sudden flare of arousal on my part caught me off guard, though I instantly knew I would *love* to watch my wizard and Consort wrestle and fight each other. Neither were trained fighters with little chance of lethal tactics, so it would not only be amusing watching them rolling around on the ground but also...

Hot. The very thought made me extremely hot.

My eyes remained fixed on the two males and I squeezed my crotch once just to soothe the sudden ache. Hello, new lust-dream...

"I'm guessing... hunting you like...done before."

I could finally either read or hear bits that Auslan was saying. Having been shoved and the now high tension between them seemed to make him a bit lax in his subtlety. 

"What did...to catch her attention?"

I could have sworn I heard Shyntre grind his teeth at the question, even with the quiet rustles and low pitch of other living things surrounding me in the garden. He whispered as well, but his more vehement gesticulations raised his words to an audible level. "Don't be stupid, plaything. I exist! That's what I did!"

Auslan half-smiled but didn't take umbrage at the insult. "Why not ask Wilsirathon...?"

"I've already tried that...her protection is worth nothing..." came the bitter reply. "She uses me the same... still hands me over when they ask."

"...your headmaster at the Tower?"

The mage shook his head. "He works...that Elder Sister mage, you know that. He'll give her anything...this new Red Sister is one of hers."

The Consort pondered. "Have...considered simply submitting? Maybe she'll lose interest...only that you fight...she is enjoying herself, right?"

Shyntre started to shake his head. "No...you've never...with a Red Sister..." He growled shortly. "Don't tell me how to handle this. You've never been taken on anything but silk and wool!"

Auslan smiled, but without knowing what I knew, I wouldn't have seen the irony in it. On the contrary.. "....assuming the Matrons...some rather...odd tastes at times."

"Matrons don't practice their bedroom craft with intent to terrify the Nobles!"

Auslan seemed to concede the point by shrugging. "She's still young, Shyntre. Let her have you then lose interest...before she gains more rank."

"No," the wizard replied shortly.

"...that was the core...last time, wasn't it? ...higher the rank, the less resistance they can tolerate...in front of...."

"...to be known as one who can be taken any time...want? Especially to the youngest...."

Auslan sighed. "...tried to tell you...the longer you fight... you will have to supplicate...she'll stop looking at you. ....body will never be your own, the Red Sister...bore you and the Priestesses are the ones... possible for you. Why do you make it worse on yourself?"

"Because they don't deserve their power. If males ran things, you can bet we'd be more wise about using it!"

Auslan chuckled. "... so sure? ...nurturing type than I knew, you'd support and protect...better than they do us?"

Shyntre shook his head and folded his arms, not bothering to continue a topic that could only go into a philosophical realm. The Consort gave the wizard a few quiet moments before leaning forward just a bit more, and he said something that , sadly, I could not hear or read at all. I could only go off the wizard's response, which was to look down at his feet, his folded arms tightening against himself a bit more.

"I don't...to hear it..." the mage murmured, shaking his head.

"...you have to...I saw you standing...make a choice between them."

Shyntre trembled slightly. "...could always tell them...."

"You'd...explain why...waited so long...." Auslan's gaze was unwavering and his body exuded confidence. "Be satisfied...to see me torn...if you... Would you...same as them?"

The mage lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at the more beautiful Drow. His mouth tightened, and he shook his head. Auslan nodded back, seeming satisfied with the reply.

Damn it. If only the stupid bugs and creatures around me would stop their black noise! I wasn't even sure what I'd just heard but knew well by now that these two knew each other much better than just the Consort seeing the mage "occasionally" while growing up. I didn't know how often they communicated, but they were going over an older conversation they'd had before, when they'd come to some kind of agreement. Allies? 

Maybe, or maybe just bonded by situation and happenstance, by necessity or a mutual secret. They were of close enough age to each other, and their social positions weren't dissimilar. Shyntre didn't fit in very well either in the Sanctuary or in the Tower with the other wizards, and Auslan didn't really fit in anywhere. Both were coveted by powerful females for different reasons. 

Annoyed as I could choose to be that Auslan had opted to downplay his familiarity with Shyntre, I knew that if I were in his place, I couldn't imagine volunteering that information for nothing. Auslan was also trying to counsel the mage to be more open to my advances. I wasn't sure whether I liked that or not. Wouldn't it cut the hunt short and...?

Quite possibly make me less interested in pursuing him. That may have been true, if I hadn't overheard parts of this conversation. Now, knowing the reason in advance if Shyntre suddenly did become more pliable, he and I could have a very interesting conversation of our own. Shyntre wasn't that good of an actor, not like Auslan. He wouldn't be able to fake it. I smiled. I wasn't worried.

This actually made me feel even more intrigued. Both Kerse and Shyntre being at my trials and having a connection with Wilsira made sense; that had not been luck. D'Shea, if not Rausery as well, had started this when they'd sent Qivni to collect me, because they'd chosen my challenges. Even so, I also trusted my gut that D'Shea and Wilsira did not like each other, as much as they were required to share resources at times, and I meant to find out more about that.

My finding Auslan by himself on a small farm of solitude, and his having such a surprising connection to this same group of players...*that* had been sheer luck. That had been Lolth Herself nudging at the pieces and snickering to herself.

D'Shea knew all of this, though had kept so much so close to her chest...it was almost like she was modeling herself after the Spider Queen. Know and see, but watch the webs spin wider and wrap the players tighter. Sooner or later, we'd have to cut it and start over or not being able to move.

The wizard looked around the garden now, trying to spy any possible watchers. I remained still with my cloak covering me, and his senses missed me.

"Go back...can't stay out there....looking for the Priestess," he said.

"Try the nursery," Auslan smirked and turned around to leave. "Be wary."

******

I opted to beat Shyntre to the nursery; I already knew where it was and he didn't. Second floor, facing the front gate of the estate, it was a circle of interconnected rooms built to contain and protect everything a young Drow might need for the first years of life: reverie, food, cleanliness, education, entertainment, points of curiosity and beauty.

Ideally, the young of Nobility could be sequestered until their talents and potential became more obvious, and their learned behavior determined how soon they may be let out to wander farther afield with a governor or perhaps even their sire, or to meet guests and be in the presence of their Matron.

The nursery wing did have plenty of windows facing the front of the estate, though, and those inside could often be seen watching what went on outside. Only the extremely ignorant took care of any of their more discreet business in the front of any estate, where young eyes would always be.

The Itlaun nursery did contain one Drow child at the moment, a male much younger than his two pregnant sisters, and perhaps the Matron's final attempt at birthing a third daughter without more potent, magical assistance. I'd learned his name was Grelio, but because of his seeming to be an ordinary, fairly obedient Noble son, I hadn't seen much reason to watch him very closely.

I was therefore surprised to hear a subtle shuffle that led me to spot him now, folded into a tiny ball beneath on of the decorative tables in the hallway. His eyes grew very round when I kneeled down and peered at him. He was reacting at least to my weapons and the uniform, even if he did not necessarily know their significance.

Or maybe he did. The stories started early sometimes.

*Outside your nursery, boy?* I signed. *Why?*

*Demon... came in,* he answered hesitantly, one hand moving in unpracticed but understandable sign. *Woke...sneak out. No saw me.*

Impressive survival instinct, avoiding the Draegloth and staying so quiet. Grelio might actually have a chance for adulthood. 

I nodded and signed back. *Only a demon? Anyone else?*

*Priestess,* he answered and hesitated.

*And?*

*Curgia.*

Excellent. I smiled at him. *Good boy. Stay here until they leave. If a wizard comes by, hide from him as well.*

He nodded, needing no further persuasion on that.

There were at least five different bedroom rooms, all on the small side but small ones didn't tend to need as much space. Grelio's room—the one with the unmade bed and a warmer scent—was wide open, and I walked through it leading to a small washroom, another empty room (though being prepared for newcomers), a miniature kitchen, and a third bedroom. Then I finally felt the itch at the edge of my senses; it was the fourth bedroom that was warded.

Frankly, if I'd known Wilsira would be so long occupied, I might have stayed and spoken with Auslan more...although then I wouldn't have discovered the alteration on the pendant now back around my neck, nor would I have been able to watch Shyntre shove Auslan as they talked to each other. Always a trade, it seemed.

As I reached out carefully for the door handle, I clearly felt the discouragement of the ward—and it was powerful. For a moment I wanted very much to walk away and not touch that door. I heard nothing at all, this fourth bedroom was no doubt empty, I was wasting my time...

Ah, but the pain that began to seep through my glove as I rested my fingers on the handle told me otherwise. Go away? I think not.

For now, my bracers helped protect me from most ill effects of wards, helped me see through the glamour that willed my departure, or the suggestion of pain in breaking the boundary. The magic of wards involved fooling the senses or tricking the mind; all Drow wards depended on overcoming the willpower of the intruder. That was where each Red Sister aimed to excel, with heightened senses and the willpower and endurance to surprise even the high ranking Priestesses.

With further teaching and experience, I knew I would gradually enhance my resistance to wards in general to the point where I could get into a room warded like this stark naked if need be. Alas, for right now, I needed the bracers. I'd already seen how Rausery was with offering powerful tools only to take them away and see how a Sister did when suddenly left without. Sooner or later I'd be tested on that, but I didn't fear that time. How else was I to achieve levels of mastery like my Leads and Elders? 

This ward suggested more pain than any other I'd run into so far when I turned the handle and I began to tremble as I set my jaw and struggled to breathe slower. 

No. Not real. The pain wasn't physical and was only as damaging to my mind as I let it be. My eyes scanned the tiny whorls and slashes on my bracers as I searched for the right combination of runes to bend the magic around me without dissipating it, and thus warning Wilsirathon I was about to enter.

Six individual symbols began to glow subtly between my right and left arm. I touched them in deliberate sequence: claw, net, stone, void, water, arch...

I turned the handle silently and pushed it open a crack. Nothing sounded, either in my head telling me I'd broken the magic or inside as if someone was startled. I saw no one in the nursery room by way of the crack so had no choice but to open it wider and peek around the edge to take in as much information as I could in the few seconds I had.

Kerse crouched in the far corner, his elbows resting on his thighs and his fingers interlaced. He was concentrating on his dam and Curgia and for the moment didn't sense me. He would if I passed completely through the ward, though, never mind simply being able to watch me enter. 

I would have to pass all the way through, of course; I couldn't maintain this moment of limbo, kneeling in the center of a ward. The next second, I switched my gaze to the two Drow seemingly resting on a plush nursing couch, neatly surrounded by four candles. They were in the oddest position.

Curgia sat on Wilsira's lap with her back flush against the Priestess's chest, her legs open wide and feet barely touching the floor, nearly all of it covered by the full skirt of her gown. Wilsira sat with her back straight on the couch, her arms wrapped around the Noble and her bejeweled hands pressed flat against her rounded belly. Her own legs were hinted to be on the inside of Curgia's; I could make out the jut of her knees through Curgia's skirt, and her slippered toes were poking out of her robes, flat on the carpet.

Both of them had their eyes closed, and the pregnant Drow shivered and trembled, the rate and shudder of her breath mimicking either ecstasy or agony, I wasn't sure. Wilsira was still, her expression one of deep concentration.

I saw some symbolism in their position. Eight limbs, four eyes, swollen abdomen...maybe the spider motif wasn't intentional, but it was appropriate.

I was walking in on a ritual of some kind, I could see that much. I had the chance to back out with none the wiser, but I had to choose immediately: in or out? 

Stay out and let Wilsira think I could not break her wards? Go in and prove beyond doubt I could perform my function as a Red Sister? Potentially force Wilsira to attack, or to lie, or something else unanticipated? Or back out and wait without rocking the boat, let her remain in control?

I went in. Wilsira no doubt already had a lie in place, as she always did. Better to force her to try it while not feeling safe and mentally prepared.

Kerse looked at me as I quietly closed the door and his eyes widened a little. I smiled and touched my index finger to my lips. I stood guard and watched, as I was supposed to; the ward was not painful on this side of the door.

The Draegloth look uncertain what do to as he looked between me and his dam. He did not want to disturb her, I could see, but still thought he should. I let him ponder this quandary on his own. I wouldn't very well try to direct him when I didn't know which would be better for him, or for me. Better he showed me more of his own hand, if possible.

Ultimately, Kerse chose a deliberate compromise: he crawled quietly across the room on feet and knuckles and moved in between me and his mother. His body blocked nearly all my view of the two female Drow on the nursing couch, and he was equidistant between us—neither threatening me nor interrupting the Priestess's work. He was not within physical reach of either of us.

I felt irritated that I couldn't see anything and tried a few careful steps to one side to see around him, but as I expected, Kerse shifted with me and kept his eyes pinned on me. Presumably he would continue to shift until either I got close enough to touch or one of us interrupted Wilsirathon. I sighed inwardly and resolved to wait this out to its natural conclusion.

Even not being able to see, I could hear Curgia quite well when she became distressed a short time later. She began protesting in a drunken murmur, gasping for more air; bodies shifted against fine cloth and upholstery, and the heat in the room picked up considerably.

"Please...please...no!" she cried, though it sounded more like she was talking in reverie, confused, her mind not entirely in the waking world.

Kerse didn't look away from me when the noise began; he hadn't all this time. He was an excellent guard. I did nothing to threaten him and tried to take note of everything that happened instead.

Soon I sensed the too-familiar taste of divine magic, now like an overly pungent and spicy spirit filling my nose, building pressure behind my eyes and causing me to wait in apprehension for that first clutch of arousal as magical residue diffused through me...

Over the next several moments, however, I grew accustomed to that potency, and the anticipated clutch of heat in my gut didn't come. For that I was grateful. The Draegloth had tilted his head inquiringly by the time I realized he had been watching my face and the discomfort I'd likely shown as the magic choked the air. I could do little but smile back.

Curgia still moaned but no longer formed actual words, and Wilsira had begun chanting under her breath. It wasn't in the Drow language; it sounded at once like the hissing of snakes and the blackest of curses rising as harsh echoes out of a deep earth chasm.

Abyssal. It had to be...and thinking now, it was not altogether unlike what I'd heard Qivni speak in order to send Kerse away from me at the worship ball. The undercurrent was also in Kerse's own Drow speech, subtle but ever-present.

The chant crackled along my nerves and sent a shiver down my spine, and I heard the Draegloth chuckle, very briefly. He wasn't smiling when I looked directly at him, though; he was breathing faster, more deeply. He shifted and champed his teeth briefly, physically responding to the rising surge of magic in the room—yes, I did see a change in tension behind his green loincloth, but his mane also began to stand up more and his muscles looked pumped and heated up as if he'd been lifting heavy objects for over a mark of the candle.

Uh-oh.

It may have been a little late, but I quaffed one of my own prevention vials right then and there. It wasn't an invitation for him—I would take great pains to avoid coupling in this nursery—but I was in a close, warded space witnessing a ritual I didn't understand and didn't mean to leave now. I simply had to be prepared for the possibility that the Draegloth may try to capture me under the influence of magic, might try to use force... and might succeed.

Kerse was huffing softly, flexing his hands and periodically dragging claws across the carpet, his shoulders slowly weaving. I could even sense his magic growing...or, no, wait.... After some concentration, I realized it was a loop, fed to him and back to his mother then back to him again. What Auslan had said about a Priestess losing her son to execution and what happened to her power...this supported it. I witnessed now to how the demonic half-breed amplified the Priestess's magic. 




Sufferance Ch. 11



I could see very well how it would hurt her to lose him, beyond the emotional attachment she already had. Her magic would be crippled; a part of her ripped out and gone forever. Wilsira may very well go insane from the shock... And I'd be lucky to survive another few years if she decided the fault was all mine... She wouldn't have as much to lose at that point, would she? Making her all the more dangerous if she still remained a Priestess.

If Kerse ever died or was destroyed...Wilsirathon would have to die as well, and soon after, if I stood any chance of survival myself. My Elders might have to be willing to come against the Priesthood to in order to keep me.

How much confrontation would I be worth? Did they ever give up a Red Sister to a Priestess for sacrifice?

I didn't know the answer right then. They'd given me to Lelinahdara, but that was to force me to face my last remaining demon so they could take possession of me, of my body, my mind, my loyalty... I represented an investment to them, but only a recent one.

Maybe it would all depend on how well I handled what information I got from this trip. Start a campaign to seek Kerse's execution only to cripple Wilsirathon and weaken her? She would definitely know who was responsible then, it wouldn't be just her own obsession that ruined her son for her. 

Try instead to preserve his life a little longer until...until what? Until she found a way to requisition my service again? Actually keep secrets on the Priestess's behalf and hope something else happened? Wait for her to make her own mistakes that bring her down, and build my own protection in the meantime?

I needed to talk to D'Shea...by Lolth's tits, I probably needed *her,* her position and her status. I might need her protection, the way Shyntre had wanted protection but never found in anybody...

I stood in that nursery room, buffeted by magic but not understanding its purpose, too close to danger without any good retreat, watching for the moment Kerse changed his mind about guarding Wilsira. It might not happen, but it could and I had to be ready.

As the Draegloth grew more agitated and more aroused by the magic, however, I doubted that it was a good idea to just let him snap. I wasn't afraid to direct him, was I? To approach him first and choose the interaction rather than only reacting, having it forced upon me? I'd done it before, in the blissful ignorance of my trials...

Except that he could turn on me—he had before with his mother watching—and the potion I'd taken only a short time ago wouldn't have its full effect yet. Drawing this out had its benefit...but so did taking control before he took action himself, before things became even more feverish.

I had no idea what Wilsirathon was even doing to that poor Noble.

If I were to interrupt the ritual somehow by coaxing Kerse's release when I chose, rather than his mother...? What then? Or would I just get trapped in the magic and be unable to make my own choices until it was over?

....so yes, I supposed I was a little afraid to approach the Draegloth. Too many unknowns for me, and I could fail pretty spectacularly right now from sheer lack of knowledge.

The chanting continued, as did the whispers at the edges of shadows. I suddenly felt a tight ball of vibration against my chest and reached to touch the spot, remembering the pendant. I didn't tug it out—I didn't want even Kerse seeing it and possibly recognizing it, now or later—but I took a quick peek down the front of my shirt and could tell it was glowing again.

Glowing again. Why? Now what?

*How does one know what crossed over...?*

Kerse bared his teeth and hissed, blazing yellow eyes still on me.

*Only when we face it on the other side.*

Part of my only reverie on this trip inexplicably returned only to add to my confusion, and it was then that I heard a new voice in the room, ready to make it worse. It was disembodied, low in volume but not in tenor, with a purity of thought and clarity that was hard to imagine coming from a true throat, formed with a spongy tongue and stretching lips. It was like when Lana and I were mind-linked; no words but pure thought and emotion... although there was very little emotion here. It was thought only; empirical, hollow...

*...Unusual. An interlink we did not infer...*

It said only that, or...that was all I heard. Then it disappeared, whatever tenuous connection there had been severed like a spider's silken thread. The vibration of the sapphire beneath my clothing ceased at the same time.

What in the Abyss....?

Kerse was shaking his head as if trying to clear water from his ears. Then he looked at me and took a step forward, finally breaking his guard. He lifted a large, clawed hand to reach for me. He never looked back at Wilsira and Curgia, still in their trance.

Right. Something had changed. So now I had to react...yes or no?

Intuition. I reached out to take his hand like it wasn't twice as large and more beastial than mine, pulling myself forward and wrapping my arms tightly around his middle without hesitation. The half-breed made a surprised, inquisitive sound but he took no forceful action. 

His large hands started to touch and caress my back through my cloak, though he paused when I reached to touch the ridge visible beneath his loincloth. His breath hitched to a stop as I fished his member out, then he purred as I stroked him with my soft leather glove. After a slight delay, I could feel the heat of him reach my hand.

"Easy, Kerse, that's it," I cooed, alternating between longer, slower caresses and shorter, brisker tugging. "That's a good boy."

It was almost cute the way he trembled and nodded his head with his eyes closed, occasionally sucking in breath and spit to avoid drooling on me. Considerate.

I was closer to the Priestess and had the chance to turn us slightly as Kerse was focused on the pleasure I gave him. The magic was thick around all of us, making even the task of breathing seem labored.

Curgia was writhing now, sweat sheening on her forehead and face and neck, trickling down between her breasts. Her teeth were gritted and her hands now gripped Wilsilra's wrists hard, her nails digging in and soon to draw blood. I finally tossed out the ecstasy idea; it may have started out that way, but whatever was happening now couldn't be good for her condition. She was in unending pain.

I didn't know whether I could stop it or not, or whether I should. I was supposed to learn of Wilsira's plans, not interfere with them...

...oh, except that I already had, hadn't I? Plenty of times, starting with talking to Curgia in the garden in the first place, telling her what I thought I knew of the Priestess's motives.

Except we—D'Shea and I—had been wrong this time.

Could I justify a reason why Curgia should live? Or should she simply meet her fate having made her deals with a particularly ruthless Priestess?

"What's happening, Kerse?" I murmured.

He rumbled without opening his eyes; I still caressed him but it was more teasing now, drawing it out until he answered me. I asked one more time when he protested my slow pace, and he formed a vocal response.

"Nnammess."

"What about names?"

He hissed through teeth and his hips thrust at me, a demand for harder strokes. I gave it to him, then slowed down again.

"Well?"

He growled shortly, "Pllannar."

"Planar names?"

He nodded, and I gave a little twist to my handjob to vary the sensation this time. By all accounts, he liked it, and I kept him content while I could think.

Planar names. Such as Kerse's real name...the one that bound him to her, here and now. The one that bound all Draegloth to their mothers, and the reason why he couldn't leave despite being half demon and more magical by nature than even his mother.

Funny that it hadn't occurred to me before now that Curgia's offspring might have one of those planar names...

"She wants a new name?" I guessed, trying to keep it simple.

He nodded once, opening his eyes halfway and lifting his upper lip slightly in a subtle snarl. He didn't like the possibility of her gaining a new name.

Neither would D'Shea, I knew.

Okay, yes. Now I could justify my interference.

I went down to one knee and, still stroking him, began sucking as well, lavishing my lips and tongue in tandem with my gloved hand over the ridged, musky erection. Kerse growled in delight and grabbed my braids while thrusting his hips forward. I was prepared for the action, but only just. 

His cock was one able to be pointed toward the floor without damaging him, and I did this now so I could rise from beneath with my chin up and my throat open. I could take more of him than I ever had before, letting the pointed tip just begin to squeeze its way down my windpipe, my lips impressively close to the knot that had finally formed at the base.

Kerse watched me do this; he was practically vibrating as I coaxed him close and closer to the edge. When I gently applied pressure to his knot with my spit-moistened glove, it was enough for him. He gnashed his teeth, huffed deeply, and began spurting down my throat.

I could have held my breath a little longer, swallowed a bit more of his seed, except that I heard the Priestess cry out as the pregnant Noble screamed shrilly. I knew immediately the magic had been disrupted.

Wait...disrupted by deep throating? Or the Draegloth's release...?

Kerse had jumped back from me at the twin female shrieks; not far, but enough to withdraw out of my mouth entirely and start painting my face with his semen as he continued squirting his creamy fluid.

"Fuck!" I cursed, trying to aim his rod away and wipe at one stinging eye.

He whimpered and reached to close his hand over mine to keep stroking. More semen lanced and splattered over my forearm, my thigh, my shoulder—my red armor, of course. 

The Draegloth didn't have the luxury of a long and drawn-out orgasm as he had when locked inside my body. This time, with the magic quickly dissipating and the two on the nursing couch finally becoming aware, he squeezed out his ejaculate with only the handful of shots before staggering back from me, crouching lower to the ground and trembling. He kept his thighs open and his hands away from a no doubt sensitive penis, still stiff and lolling in the air with his loincloth askew.

I licked at my lips and tasted the salty fluid, looked over my hands and arms and chest and I knew there was little chance I could prevent Wilsirathon from deducing exactly what had happened. I probably had Kerse's spunk in my hair as well. She'd catch me wiping to clean myself...but I still opted to try. 

I ended up grabbing the cloth stained with my blood taken from Auslan's room to wipe the seed from my face. The next moment I heard Curgia collapse onto the floor and Wilsira growl in frustration.

Here we go.

When I looked at her, I could tell the Priestess was still weak and disoriented. Such an abrupt end to that trance had left her blinking toward the ceiling and struggling to catch her breath.

My hand hovered over the hilt of a dagger. Lolth, it was so tempting...the first time I'd seen her weak, vulnerable...

Kerse shifted back into my vision and bared his sharp teeth at me, warning me not to even try.

Right. He still remembered which side of his meal had the glaze. Never mind him leaving *his* glaze on my face. My eye still stung a bit.

I sighed and moved my hand farther away from the dagger, tucking away the stained cloth, and looked at Curgia instead. She was lying on her side and clutching her belly, her whole body tense with what seemed to be physical pain...or was it residual stress from the ritual?

I moved over to her and knelt, checking her pulse—which was racing—and her breathing. She could only draw in air only around wet sobs of distress. She never opened her eyes, but along with the sweat on her face...I thought I saw tears dripping out.

"...help," she whimpered, not even knowing who was over her.

Her legs shifted, and that was when I saw the clear fluid mixed with blood now soaking her skirts.

Wilsira drew in a haggard breath and, as I felt her eyes land on me, she growled again. "Sira-"

"She's miscarrying," I interrupted the Priestess with a hard edge to my voice. 

Certainly I didn't want my name to be given away so stupidly, whether Curgia would realize it or not, but it was more the fact that the Noble was now in one of those rare places within our society: no one was to take advantage of her vulnerable state while she dealt with the passing of young through her body and the immediate weakness following it. Whether or not that young lived was beside the point; for the next few cycles at least, the mother was untouchable.

That was not to say it would be the same for me. I hadn't realized it would be so easy to wreck Wilslira's ritual. Well...only so easy as if there was any other Drow in the Underdark who could have coaxed a Priestess's Draegloth to cum in the middle of a divine spell, and maybe cause some hellish power feedback...

But I was only guessing.

Oops.

I began to gather Curgia up to lift her off the ground; she was the best route toward distraction right now. It was far too late for the miscarriage to be of minimal risk, but too early for the unborn to be a viable birth; the Noble could easily die tonight. The baby definitely would, unless...

"Can you heal her, Priestess?"

When I finally looked at her, I had the hefty, curled body of the Noble as a type of shield between us. I think that actually worked in my favor this time, because Wilsira looked sapped of most of her energy and was watching me warily as she shook her head.

"No...I would need to... rest first." She hadn't wanted to admit that; she probably wouldn't have if I weren't carrying the Noble and had my hands full.

"You want the baby saved?"

Wilsilrathon seemed to consider, her attention turning inward toward whatever had been going on before. Then she shook her head slowly, sinking back in the couch. "No. We can't, anyway. I lost the..."

She stopped talking, rightfully knowing not to say more. She was indeed mind-scoured and disoriented to have slipped even that much. I noticed that Kerse wasn't looking at any of us; he was acting as if he was deaf. His loincloth had been righted.

"Release the ward on the door, Priestess," I said. "I need to take her out."

She shook her head and her voice was raspy. "It's already gone."

I started to move. With luck Wilsirathon hadn't seen the semen on me. The door handle was more a lever that only needed to be elbowed downward to nudge the door open, much to my relief, and I came face-to-face with Shyntre on the other side.

His wide, crimson eyes caught a lot of detail; I'd have to find out what exactly later. He moved back out of my way and let me come through.

"What—?"

"Can you heal?" I asked brusquely.

The intelligent wizard didn't need further description as he glanced at the still-moaning Noble clutching my cloak in a death grip at my shoulder.

"Not this kind," he said. "I have gems, they're indiscriminate and heal everything. Not predictable for something like this, one damaged body inside another. You need an actual healing mage with precision."

I nodded and moved past him; he did not follow me.

It was time to wake up the Matron Italunia, though I did pause to use a non-stained part of Curgia's shirt to make sure Kerse's spending was completely wiped off my face before I did. I'd gotten most of it before, but just in case.

The most interesting thing to hear next, after Itlaunia had gotten over her initial shock and led me into her own quarters to set her daughter on her own bed, was what she said to the servant:

"Go wake the Consort, bring him here. Quickly."

Her first choice of a summons was the Consort, not the Priestess?

Auslan arrived fairly soon, glancing at me with a bit of alarm that almost looked natural before he went to the bed, putting his hand on Curgia's hot, damp forehead. Suspiciously, Shyntre knocked on the door the next moment and said the Priestess was summoning me. I had been required to leave the Matron's room, though I had most certainly not wished to.

So interesting. Was I to assume the "pretty plaything" had some healing ability...possibly only as it pertained to fertility and pregnancies, a midwife or sorts, or perhaps he was an outright mage of the healing arts? Was that common among Consorts or specialized somehow?

*You have so many hidden talents, my Auslan.*

****

Wilsirathon blamed the miscarriage on me when talking to the Matron later on. Curgia was alive but had nearly bled to death trying to birth the stillborn fetus. The Matron said it was only the gift of the Consort that she was still alive and may yet heal enough to try again to breed.

"The Red Sister overheard my discussion with your daughter," Wilsirathon murmured, only quiet enough to convince the Matron that I couldn't hear, standing guard at the far end of the room as I was. "I finally got her to tell me who was the sire of her child. That was why the Red Sister attacked her and caused the miscarriage."

Itlaunia had straightened up more, her thin lips pursing together. "But...the timing was right for the Consort...though I admit she wouldn't have hidden it from me were that the case. And that twisted creature that came out of her...! Thank Lolth it didn't live. What happened?"

Wilsira looked appropriately sympathetic. "Curgia told me she had imbibed too many spirits at the worship ball. She had been so jealous to see Tulia mount the Consort on the altar. She doesn't remember much of it, and for a while truly believed it to have been a horrible dream. However it would seem that she did couple with a Draegloth while at Court. The proof was right there in her belly."

"But...who...?"

The Priestess sat straight and nodded elegantly. "I will do what I can to find out which half-breed may have taken advantage like that, or whether it was a rival of mine, an intentional move against your House. The Draegloth all know the punishment is dire if they are caught, whether by direction or opportunity, so he will say nothing. I will have to find the Priestess and that may take time."

Itlaunia had nodded. "I am grateful for your support and attention to this matter. We've worked hard to earn your matronage, Wilsirathon, and if this is intentional by another Priestess, then please use it as you see fit to take down your rival." 

After a mutual nod and a pause, the Matron continued, "The Red Sister...she..." She tried very hard not to glance my way. "Why did she...?"

"Why did she what?"

"Why did she crush my daughter's abdomen and kill the creature growing there, only to carry her to my door for healing?"

Wilsirathon smiled. "It was the most painful method, and the clearest message. Wouldn't you agree?"

Itlaunia hesitated like she wasn't sure, but she nodded. "But...we didn't do anything intentionally wrong..."

"Curgia kept her shameful secret and wronged you and your House in the process. The Red Sister was warning you, but it seems you are being given another chance by the Sisterhood."

"Will we see more of them?"

"I cannot say. Only remain faithful, pay your tithes, and I will help you from Sanctuary."

*Covering your tracks pretty damned well, Priestess,* I thought.

I sighed inwardly as I stood guard. Yes, it could be argued I'd killed the quarterbreed and started the Noble's hemorrhage; I'd interrupted the ritual by distracting Kerse, causing the backlash of power that left all involved drained and the potential payoff unfulfilled.

But that was only the very last act. Wilsirathon had trapped the Noble into a breeding in the first place; she had coerced and intimidated and blackmailed the poor fool for over a year. She had placed the pregnant Drow on her own lap and had been doing something...something that was causing some kind of damage. The Priestess had had bloody fingernail marks in her wrists and forearms as she'd sat there, weak and recovering on the couch. Curgia had been trying to fight her.




Sufferance Ch. 11



If I hadn't interrupted...I didn't know exactly what Wilsira's ultimate goal had been this eve, but she hadn't gotten it and now she was making up new stories to cover it up.

I was letting her because making truths known to the Nobles wasn't part of my function. The Priestess and I still hadn't talked alone, and she was giving me no signs what she thought had happened. She put on a confident mask for all to see and guiding the messy aftermath, controlling the damage as best she could.

"We will still be leaving early in the waking cycle," Wilslirathon told Italunia. "I've been away from the Sanctuary long enough and have further reason not to delay."

"Of course, Priestess."

This was a relief to hear; I could see an end in sight for this. Temporary though it may prove to be before my next assignment, I wanted to return to the cloister and my Sisters. I needed sleep, sex, and and food with far less risk assumed; I needed answers, and a plan from my newest experiences. I could get none of that where I was, and time wore on me much more harshly as a result.

Granted, this would prevent any new opportunity in which to find out Kerse's real desire, his real motivation. Whether I had wasted that opportunity already or simply did not have the knowledge and resources to gain it this time around...I had to know when to cut loose from the battle of wills before I made a fatal mistake.

Sadly, as the Priestess had said repeatedly, and as Auslan even had said to Shyntre...I was still young, and still had a lot to learn.

Nor was it time to let down my guard; now especially did the Priestess have reason to push me in ways she had not yet. She was running out of time to have me at her side, and Kerse's own response to my leaving might see no change, or he could throw a tantrum.

Just a little longer, and we each would return to the center of our own webs.

*****

Fortunately for me, I had never seen Wilsirathon as tired as she was after she left the Matron's audience. The four of us were all in the same room; Shyntre was wide awake, Kerse curled up on the bed with apparent disinterest in any discussion, seeming to want rest, if not sleep. The Priestess folded herself elegantly into one of the more plush fiberstalk chairs with a cup of something spicy and warm sent from the kitchen. She watched me.

"You bypassed the ward."

I tilted my head slightly but decided to let her ask an actual question before speaking.

"Why?"

There we go.

"I did not know whether you were safe, Priestess," I responded. "For a time, I could not find you on the grounds. When I did, I could not reach you, which is against your own orders. What would you have me do?"

Her expression didn't alter much beyond a small frown, and she didn't seem in the mood for mental sparring and social wordplay. She had already done plenty of that with the Matron Italun while running on exhaustion. Dare I think she might actually want to be blunt for one conversation?

Wilisra looked at Kerse then back to me. "After you carried Curgia out, he told me you watched after you had entered but never touched us."

"True," I responded. 

If by "us," the Priestess meant herself and Curgia.

"What did you see?"

A good thing for me I was still up for some verbal sidestepping. I did glance at both Kerse and Shyntre pointedly, but Wilsira acknowledged me by waving her hand as if she were bored or impatient. She didn't care what they might hear.

Alright, so be it.

"Yourself and Curgia sitting on the couch in some trance. At one point, she became distressed and started moaning. Then she screamed and threw herself off your lap onto the floor. You became aware, and she began bleeding between her legs."

"Succinct," the Priestess commented, giving me a sardonic look. "Now...what did you *feel*?"

"Divine magic," I shrugged, "filling the room. Only when Curgia screamed had it been disrupted."

"What do you think disrupted it?"

Kerse was still and he wasn't making a sound. Shyntre likewise was trying to make himself smaller in his chair; I think he would have left if he could have. He didn't want to hear this. The only reason I could gather than he was here was simply that he'd been standing outside the door when I'd come through with the Noble, and thus was a witness anyway.

I smiled wryly. Time to drop the burst. "There was another presence in the room for half a moment. I think that was what disrupted it."

Wilsira sat up straighter looking more alert now, and Kerse gave me a fleeting, bewildered look. Shyntre looked intrigued in spite of himself.

"Explain."

At least I could be mostly certain that Kerse had not told her about the oral sex.

"In my training, I have grown to be resilient against mental pushes," I admitted, and I could read the Priestess clearly, confirming what I'd already suspected: she had tried her own mental pushes and was only minimally satisfied with her success.

"Are you," she said flatly, not a question. "A bit early in your training, isn't it?"

I smiled and didn't answer her. "There was another voice in that room. It was like a mental push, although it was just observing."

If I had to guess from Kerse's lack of reaction, I could say he hadn't heard the voice. That was a good thing. The Draegloth could think that I was just spinning a tale to cover up what had actually happened, but in truth I had given her something completely true, as far as my senses could perceive. It was impossible to prove and would draw further attention from Kerse. Much better to feed paranoia and lead with a few red spiders. Besides, I might learn something.

"Telepathy?" Wilsira asked.

I shrugged. "There is more than one way to throw your voice, isn't there? Could have been a magical message."

She shook her head. "You would recognize those even at this point, Sirana. Now give me your real opinion."

I shifted my weight trying to look relaxed as possible. "My opinion is that it was psionic. But only my opinion."

"What did it say?" she asked, taking a casual sip of her cup though her free hand squeezed the arm of her chair more tightly.

"It didn't exactly say anything. It thought. I believe I understood that it considered something happening in that room to be a first, or at least something unusual."

I kept my gaze on her as an unspoken question. The Priestess glanced at Shyntre; only now she wished him gone. Glad I was for that. I could presume that the ritual with Curgia wasn't a routine occurrence at all. She had the choice now to continue questioning me, maybe send him away first.

"You have an idea what was watching?" I asked to distract her from the wizard. Not many times would she be this tired and I would take advantage the same way she'd taken advantage of me.

Yes. There it was, the way her eyes shifted and that change in her breathing. She at least had an idea who it might've been. Neither of the males would have seen it as she faced mostly away from them.

She shook her head. "No, I do not."

"No? That's rather disturbing, isn't it, Priestess?" I asked.

She agreed with a nod. "I may have to ask your Elders to send you to the Sanctuary at a later time. They will not like the breach of security and you may know more than you think. I will be rested and will have researched the proper spell by then. Really, I'm impressed you could sense it, Sirana."

Son of a motherfucking drider! I'd just given her that next move, further reason to ask for me!

I caught Shyntre slowly shaking his head in the background and frowned his way a moment.

*Careful, you, or I'll take out my frustration on your backside...*

I breathed out slowly and nodded. "I may have something for you before then. The Sisterhood is not without its own resources in that regard."

Wilslira's mouth tightened in what was supposed to be a smile. "Well...if that's the case, I would only trust you yourself to bring me that information personally."

"We'll see," I said. "You know I take my orders from the Sisters, Priestess, not you."

She smiled, then, a thoughtful and patient kind of smile which I did not find reassuring in the slightest. "Of course."

Dung, and double dung. The solitary achievement I'd managed against an exhausted Wilsirathon—assuming it was even a good thing—was that she still had no thoughts that Kerse was hiding things from her regarding me, and I still had the bloodstone. But perhaps this had been at the expense of my own future safety. Only an Elder who might actually tell me a damned thing or two could help my situation.

The Priestess slept deeply, and Kerse would do nothing but stand guard while sneaking glances of dislike toward the wizard. Shyntre found a lot of excused to be in the wash room. It was a long wait for the waking hour.

I couldn't wait to get away from this threesome.

******

Auslan wasn't present when we left on the final leg of our journey early the next cycle. It was truly a pity; I would have liked to see his face one more time. He was the only genuine delight I'd experienced on this thorny nest of a journey.

I was glad, however, to be riding a lizard alongside the carriage again. Shyntre could deal with sharing close space with Kerse for once; I'd had more than my share. I stayed out of easy speaking distance of the carriage, glad for the lack of voices as most of what I heard was the clop-scrape of the Uroans' feet and the roll of the wheels.

As when I'd been riding back from House Itlaun, frustrated and aroused after my kiss with the Consort, we passed by the Tower before continuing toward the Palace and the cloister. Shyntre was released from his service first; he remembered to bow to the Priestess and me each in turn, mumbling his formal valedictions before he left gladly, hefting the single pack he'd brought with him from the back of the carriage and walking quickly toward his usual home. He didn't look back.

I was close enough to the carriage for Wilsira to comment. She was vague in her word choice as the driver was still within earshot but I got the message.

"Here I thought I would be doing you a favor bringing him, in case you still didn't know," she said, and sighed. "I knew on first meeting you had figured that out a while ago."

I gave her a look but then smiled. "If you still felt the need for a favor, you could tell me why he bothered to hide in the first place."

The Priestess returned my smile. "Oh...I don't know for certain, but I'd wager he asked your Elder for the right. She commanded him, of course, and he knows what often happens next if the one becomes as you became. He wanted to avoid the consequences of carrying out his orders." She chuckled. "It did not seem to make a difference, did it? You still found him...but you haven't claimed him yet. You are enjoying the hunt?"

I shrugged. "I suppose I am."

"Poor boy," the Priestess said, the amused curve of her mouth visible even in the shadow of her carriage. "He can't help but resist you. If he had taken my advice all those years ago, it may have been that the Sisterhood would not have shown any interest in him and he would have remained a servant to the Sanctuary. As it is now...he is more yours than mine. He's extraordinary with his mouth, and I didn't teach him all that."

"Hm," I said in as flat a tone as I could manage. I knew getting so interested so quickly was a mistake but it was hard not to want more. "What advice was that?"

"Oh," she smiled wider as she leaned back in her seat. "I think I'll let him tell you."

*****

I saw the carriage and its passengers safely to the Sanctuary, and despite all that had happened, Wilirathon did not try for any last-moment bonding or secret-sharing or whatnot. She was formal in her thanks to me and to the Sisterhood, in bidding me safe passage back to my Elders, and very different in her body language now that other Priestesses and their eyes could see her.

Kerse likewise behaved very well; one could almost believe he had gotten his fill of me and, like all the other Draegloth, had finally forgotten the distraction and was again wholly devoted to his mother.

Wouldn't it be somehow better for me if that was the case? Indeed, wasn't I just taking Auslan's word that Kerse's behavior was truly that far outside the norm? Perhaps he was wrong...

Except then I would have to discount D'Shea's misgivings, my own instincts, and everything Kerse had done that seemed without his dam's knowledge. No. The Draegloth was still a dragon-sized pile of trouble ready to bring as much attention from the Priesthood down on me as Shyntre seemed to have drawn from the Sisterhood. And I didn't thank either him or my wandering thoughts for the comparison.

The last bit of information I gleaned before I left was knowing that neither the Priestess nor the Draegloth wanted to demonstrate the bodily familiarity that new sexual partners sometimes expressed. I supposed I could thank them for that.

My thoughts and mind kept going but felt somehow more numb as I made my way back to the Sisterhood's cloister on foot. The lizard mount wasn't from our stables and on foot was how I'd first arrived that time a long five cycles ago. Thank Lolth it hadn't been extended beyond the five, but...

I realized the numbness was having more to do with my lack of sleep for all that time. One rest period, cradled by a warm demonbred, and that was it. I wondered whether D'Shea would demand full reports first, or if I might rest and eat first? Would I ask for one over the other?

I'd gone beneath a rocky surface to reach one of the hidden entrances, only just passing the ward and opening the door when someone grabbed my shoulder and I actually made a startled sound, throwing myself back and drawing a dagger.

"Sirana!" Gaelan scowled at me. "Don't you threaten me!"

Oh, Lolth fuck me sideways... I hadn't seen my roommate since I'd ridden her ass with her own Feldeu and then stole it afterward... I'd known she'd faced some trouble with our Elder, but D'Shea had kept us apart as she gave me that fast training for the Sanctuary and then sent me to Wilsirathon.

I sheathed the dagger and shrugged with a decidedly fatigued slant to my shoulders. "Not my intent, Gaelan. You startled me. What would you expect?"

She wasn't happy to see me—I wouldn't have expected her to be—but she said nothing and took my arm and tried to lead me farther down the hall. I resisted.

"D'Shea's not here yet but I've been put on watch to wait for you," she snapped. "We're going to her quarters. Don't fight and don't talk, understand?"

Given that we still had that agreement for her to be the dominant one in sight of the other Sisters, I acquiesced and soon found myself shoved into D'Shea's quarters for the first time in her absence. Impressively, Gaelan had been able to get in.

So something had changed in my absence.

"Start stripping and give me each piece as you take it off," she ordered.

I quirked one eyebrow but did not move, and she folded her arms.

"Like when you came back from the Hunt for Jael. Everything you have on you is evidence. I've been given instruction to have you prepared and your possessions laid out for when she gets here."

"Oh, you have?" I asked skeptically.

Gaelan nodded once, curtly. "Thanks to you. And no, I no longer have my own Feldeu, nor even one being borrowed, so I won't be able to bang your twat the way I want to, even if that wouldn't be destroying any evidence on your body. I can't touch you, alright? Now strip!"

I muttered a curse under my breath and started removing everything a piece at a time, handing it to her to inspect as I did so. She wasn't in a talkative mood after her outburst, so I just watched her face during this process. Mostly she was angry with me, but my gut told me it was not permanent—I had not just made a deadly enemy. A couple of times, that anger slid into another expression I didn't see very often. It was...offended? No. Insulted...no.

Hurt.

Of course. I'd betrayed her attachment to me...and I even felt some regret for doing so. It had worked in my favor, and though I hadn't planned on it—pure impulse to take her Feldeu—I would probably do it again. However, it remained that she'd paid a price for my success.

This was what I had thought we both understood about the natural order, that I would step on her back one day to climb over her—and she'd known it would happen. She'd known her place.

So why look injured?

Gaelan was distracted and did not seem to glean as much out of my pieces as D'Shea might have, but she blinked at finding the bloodstone in one of my pouches, and her mouth opened a little when she saw Shyntre's pendant around my neck when I revealed naked breasts. 

"What...where did you get that?"

I took it off slowly and handed it out to her, the final adornment before I was completely nude. "The wizard from my trials. He gave it to me."

Her face screwed up in confusion. "No...he wouldn't have."

"He did."

"You took it."

I smiled. "Not this time. You know what it is?"

She gave me that vacant look I'd grown to recognize as her throat closed on itself a moment. She couldn't answer me due to the compulsion. She didn't even try.

But now I knew Shyntre and D'Shea definitely knew each other. One of many questions was: How well?

Gaelan put the necklace down with my other items and helped unplait and smooth out my braids so that my hair was loose down my back. Then she took a deep breath as she picked up a small purple jar from D'Shea's shelves. Unscrewing the lid, she dipped her gloved finger into some kind of glittering powder and touched it to her tongue. Letting it dissolve a few seconds in her mouth as she put the jar back, she began looking me over carefully. I watched her warily until she stepped directly behind me and I couldn't see her anymore.

"Look straight ahead," she ordered.

I heard her remove her gloves then felt cool, dry hands on the back of my neck. Slowly they moved lightly over my skin, my back, my shoulders and arms, almost tickling until she touched my breasts and the nipples grew hard. She ignored that and kept going down my ribs, my stomach, my flanks and hips. She inspected my legs and buttocks and feet before she lifted a hand back up to my mouth and nudged her finger inside.

"Umngh," I mumbled and she shushed me as she pressed her index finger onto my tongue.

Gaelan chanted something quietly a few times, and went she removed her finger it shimmered very slightly in iridescent blue. I had no idea what it meant, but she repeated it after moving her hand between my legs with all familiarity, inserting her middle finger into my sex. I sucked in my breath, and her finger again shone a brighter blue when she removed it. Like the first, the color faded within a few seconds.

"What are you—" Though as she moved around behind me again, I already figured.

"Last time, Sirana," she murmured, and I could almost say she sounded aroused.

I arched my back a little and relaxed to make the probing of my netherhole tolerable; for whatever reason, all these probes had been dry—she hadn't so much as licked her finger before pressing it in and used a different one each time.

I glimpsed the same blue color again for a few moments before it faded as Gaelan went over to a table to pour water from a pitcher into a washbowl to cleanse her hands.

"What were you doing, Gaelan?" I asked.

"I told you, preparing you for D'Shea," she said without looking at me.

After a pause, I asked, "Are you a mage?"

Her shoulders tensed then lowered again.

"More a familiar," she said quietly. "You remember how I stayed behind when you went to battle the Illithids?"

"Yes," I said. "Lelinahdara said she needed a conduit with experience."

Her back still to me, Gaelan lifted her wet hand in the air as if volunteering for some mission. "That's me."




Sufferance Ch. 11



"Meaning what? What's a conduit?"

She sighed softly, reaching for a towel to dry her hands. She turned around to look at me. "It means I'm a useful tool, like you are, except you get to go outside more."

Gaelan was being obtuse with intention, but rather than getting annoyed with her I considered what I'd seen before. Lelinahdara with her hands on Gaelan's shoulders, D'Shea was nearby. I knew they had been responsible for the magical communication between all the Red Sisters during the most recent battle with the Illithids but I'd only ever heard D'Shea's mental voice. In the afterglow of the battle, a horny Jaunda had wanted to put me beneath her immediately, but D'Shea had claimed me instead, handing our Lead the "conduit" Gaelan instead...

...who had been drunk on magic, lethargic, aroused and pliable.

I couldn't have known it before, but if I had to guess, it was not unlike the effects of the incense Wilsirathon had used on me, and not unlike the arousal I'd witnessed in Kerse as he served as the magical feedback loop during that Abyssal ritual. His sexual release had wrecked it.

I blinked at my roommate, who'd now come closer to me, her face set firmly.

"You can channel magic, strengthen or stabilize it," I guessed. From the surprised look on her face, it was a very good guess. "But yet...you're not a mage, Gaelan?"

"A minor one," she said tightly. "A stronger mage can use a weaker one as a conduit. You're lucky you only have Nobles' inborn abilities but no stronger magic, Sirana. With D'Shea as your Elder...you're more lucky than you know."

Gaelan moved over to busy herself neatening my possessions on the long wooden table on the left, and I let it be quiet between us as I considered these things. Gaelan and Kerse had something in common: being used for the magical boost they give to a more powerful will, kept close at hand to their respective mistresses. Both were fairly unhappy about it...because they wanted...what? They look at me and want what I have? Which was what?

*...you get to go outside more.*

Meanwhile, those same powerful wills wanted me for their own reasons. Gaelan still did not know about the Duergar which had left a smear of himself on my mind, or about the...odd things that were happening to me because of it. D'Shea did, though, and....dung. Wilsirathon was starting to get an idea of it as well. She knew I was growing resistant to spells that affected the mind or will, and she knew I'd heard a telepathic voice.

Then there was Shyntre...also known to D'Shea, also very, very magical.

*...he is more yours than mine.*

What good would it do me to let Gaelan continue to think that I was in any better place than she was? Watching the different males on this last trip helped put some of these things into perspective.

I cleared my throat, waited, then cleared it again and waited until Gaelan finally turned around to look at me. "My apologies for taking your Feldeu just as our Elder was giving you more lead. I did not know before...and I did not mean to ruin those plans for you."

Her white brows shot up high on her forehead, and she again looked angry but mixed with that mournful hurt I wasn't sure I'd seen on anyone but her.

"You owe me something for it," she said through clenched teeth, her eyes somehow brightening. "You set me back years, Sirana, and put yourself forward. That wasn't our agreement!"

"Nor was it our agreement to move forward at the same pace," I said, "but I...I could only tell you that the Feldeu training was different for me than it was for you. My action was directly related to that."

She shook her head. "So what? You hadn't earned it but you still managed to...I don't even know how you did it!"

"Did what?"

"D'Shea told me you not only used it to pleasure yourself and on another Sister besides me, but also tortured another race with it! All in the same fucking cycle! Is that true?"

"Well...yes. Is that unusual? Jaunda does it."

"She's a Lead," Gaelan spat. "She's had practice. What practice have you had wielding a foreign appendage?"

I frowned. "With D'Shea, quite a lot."

My Sister shook her head again, but I understood it to be frustration rather than rejection. I saw her white teeth clenched and bared though she partly covered her face with her hand. Her entire body was tense.

"No, you haven't. Capturing you on the Hunt and knowing your body was the best pleasure I ever had with that thing," she said. "I have never peaked just from stroking, even if it feels good. It takes time, I've been told. And you managed to use it on another race...?" 

Her expression betrayed some disgust which she reigned in soon after. "That takes practice as well, or an attitude like Jaunda's. New Sisters may get lucky and dominate an older one with a Feldeu like you did, but most also have to learn to overcome their natural reservation against other races!"

In that case, I think I cheated...I knew what it was supposed to feel like with a dwarf, thanks to Kain. It was possible I would not be so easily tempted with any given third race. I kept my mouth closed on that, however, and considered that D'Shea had told Gaelan quite a bit about my Hunt for Jael, hadn't she? That was curious.

"You claim I owe you something," I said. "Have something in mind?"

"Your agreement never to take anything of mine ever again. Until the moment you die."

*Or you die,* I couldn't help but think. Either death would fulfill such terms.

When I didn't reply immediately, she added, "And the next time we couple, you submit to me. Prove to me you aren't just wagging your tongue with that apology."

Next time. I half-smiled. "So it's a foregone conclusion that we'll couple again?"

"Yes," she said boldly. "Even if I have to take you."

My mouth expanded to a full grin and I chuckled; I loved the feeling of challenge that brought. Little angry Gaelan... "Could be fun."

I thought I detected a twitch of a smile from her, but she quashed it. "Well?"

I considered. "On not taking anything of yours, I must clarify that I will if I'm formally ordered."

She narrowed her eyes. "Meaning you can hint to a higher rank to order you to and get around our agreement," she said flatly.

I shrugged. "I could. But I agree not to take any object of yours, Galean, nor to employ that workaround to achieve the same."

Bright copper eyes stared into mine as she gauged my sincerity; I stared back levelly.

"And?" she prompted.

I smiled. "I'll not make it easy...but you're invited to try to dominate me. I'll accept what you want to do to me for one eve if you catch my cunt with your fingers before I catch yours."

Evidently Gaelan considered that to be enough; she even looked a bit excited at the coming fight. She nodded. "Agreed."

The Red Sister closest to me in age and rank, my captor, my roommate...I was sure she wanted to kiss me then, or touch me, the way she looked at me. She did neither. I knew why; we were waiting for D'Shea, and we couldn't spoil anything she might deduce from my body only just returned from Wilsirathon's service.

It was a fairly long wait, and the tension between us increased slowly as we remained quiet and thinking our own thoughts. Gaelan's comment about my going outside more often played with my mind more; as I recalled, I went out more with her at the beginning of my training, after I'd been tested by every Red Sister, but it had become far less and even stopped within a few months. I was being sent out on my own, and I'd assumed she was out on her own missions as well.

Perhaps that was not the case. Where was she, then, the many times I'd returned to our room to find it empty?

We both straightened up when the door slid open and Elder D'Shea came through. She was dressed in her full reds and her face was set and serious. She nodded first to Gaelan then to me as she removed her cloak to hang it up, tugging off her gloves and undoing belt to add them to the wall. She continued undressing as she walked past us father back into her room. It would seem she was changing to her comfortable mage's robes.

"Gaelan, report," she said simply, and her subordinate spoke as she continued to change.

My roommate's eyes glanced briefly at me, I wasn't sure why, but when she spoke I had an idea.

"Some bruising healed from the inside, some topical healing done on her flank, no major injuries, though."

Ah , yes. They'd be talking about me like an object, without talking to me for the next while. It might've been more irritating except that I'd just spent the journey experiencing the same in all around me who tried to pretend I wasn't there. I also found it interesting; Gaelan had been giving me an exam and I hadn't realized it. So what did the blue glow mean when she—?

"Semen has been deposited in all three of her orifices within the last two cycles. The most recent was in her sex."

Of course. Neat trick.

D'Shea looked at me directly and I smiled, if a little tensely, and then she looked back to Gaelan.

"She has used both of her issued prevention draughts, but possesses two others not issued to her. She carried a bloodstone not previously issued, and a blue pendant around her neck. None of her equipment is missing." She listed it off.

I thought about the list and realized there was one thing missing...the cloth Auslan had used to tend Kerse's claw marks. Had I dropped it?

"Hold," D'Shea said to Gaelan, lifting her hands for her silence, and she was staring at me, had been the whole time Gaelan was talking. "What is it, Sirana? Speak."

"I had a white, blooded cloth as well, Elder. My blood, used to tend the wound on my side. It's not in one of my pouches?"

D'Shea looked at Gaelan, who shook her head. "No...I never found an item like that."

My first thought was that perhaps Gaelan was still angry and had taken something of mine in return...but D'Shea walked up to her subordinate and touched her, asking exactly that. Gaelan's response was honest; she didn't have it.

"I figure explaining that cloth will require some context?" D'Shea asked me.

"Most definitely, Elder."

"Which do you think mostly likely: you may have dropped it, or someone took it?"

I thought about it. I'd taken it from Auslan, put it in my pouch...I'd only pulled it out again to wipe Kerse's fluids off my face before putting it back and picking up Curgia in that nursery room. No one had gotten close enough to take it, unless...

Well, there was the one last time Kerse had mounted me—upon waking before we were to return to the Sanctuary, the very last of our arrangement. I'd been fully naked on my back; Shyntre had watched my gear as before, Wilsira had decided to include herself and straddle my face. But...no, I'd checked my equipment after the wizard had watched it, just as always. The cloth had been there then.

"Perhaps I dropped it on the journey back, Elder," I said. "I don't see the opportunity for someone to take it. It would have only been a few marks ago; I had it earlier."

"I'll send a team out to retrace your path," she said. "It's unlikely...if it had blood on it, it may have been found quickly by many things, but we will try. Anything else they should know of this item?"

"Mm. Some semen stains. I used it later as well."

D'Shea left that for the report with context as well. She plucked out a basic map from her scrolls, had me show her the path the carriage had taken, and summoned one of the teams to give them their assignment. It was done with high efficiency and the three of us were soon alone again as before.

"Alright," D'Shea sat down to be comfortable and left Gaelan and I standing. "If you please, Sirana. Start from the beginning."

It was one of my most difficult and convoluted recitals...if I'd thought Jael's Hunt was bad, this was worse. It started out well enough; I'd taken D'Shea's knowledge and advice and my time meeting the Priestess for the first time at Sanctuary went well enough. My Elder did not seem too surprised when I mentioned Shyntre had been asked to come along. She listened avidly to the details of the journey, of the tortured and poison Drow whose body I'd burned, and of arriving at House D'Verin.

She was clearly disappointed in me that the wizard had gotten the best of me and that allowed Wilisrathon to make her arguments for better protection and surprise me with Kerse. As it continued, I found that I couldn't answer many of D'Shea's questions, either because I hadn't been able to trust my senses or because I hadn't been witness to it. My Elder reprimanded me quietly on several points of the agreement—those points that I had already reflected upon and wanted to blame on some magical influence from the Priestess herself.

"That may be the case, but you see how dangerous she is now, don't you?" she asked.

"Yes, Elder, I do."

"Is Kerse the only male you coupled with? Gaelan's magic says you took semen in your mouth and backside as well."

I felt my face heat up. "He is, Elder. Those times were such that I did not have time to allow a prevention draught to take effect. It was necessary."

D'Shea nodded. "I believe you. Gaelan, did your exam include a pregnancy test?"

"Um...no, Elder."

"It is always the next step in procedure when you find semen in the birth canal," the Elder said tightly.

Gaelan and I had begun discussing other things at the time.

"I'm sorry, Elder."

"Do it now. As I've shown you."

Gaelan approached me and got down on one knee in front of me, gently placing her right hand over my womb while holding my hip with her left. She closed her eyes and started chanting.

"Keep going, Sirana," D'Shea ordered.

"Mm? Well—"

"Ignore Gaelan and continue your report," she said emphatically.

"Yes, Elder."

D'Shea listened intently to my interaction and arrangement with Shyntre, her face not betraying much besides the interest in the intrigue itself. In the middle of it, Gaelan removed her hand from my belly button and stood up, shaking her head in the negative as she moved back.

"Not right now, at least," D'Shea commented. "We'll test again later on. Continue."

So I hadn't caught while on the trip; and the only chance now was if my last potion had failed somehow. I liked my chances, and continued describing events.

There was one point where I deviated in my report; I'd already given so much lurid and intimate detail, admitted so many mistakes by then, that when I portrayed my visit with Auslan as very similar to my previous visits with him, downplaying just how inquisitive he'd been about my presence with the Priestess and never mentioning the information we'd traded...D'Shea didn't notice. It would seem I did not give away any tells.

As a result, D'Shea knew I was extremely curious about Shyntre, but didn't know that I knew he was birthed by someone in the Sisterhood. She also didn't know about Auslan's connection to the wizard. I left out the part of them talking in the garden entirely. Soon enough I reached nearly to the point where we would leave House Itlaun to return here, and my Elder called back to an earlier point.

"The Consort was able to save Curgia's life?" D'Shea asked with some skepticism.

"Yes, Elder. Do I take it that this is unusual?"

"Not unheard of for a Consort also to be a healer, but..." She considered. "Auslan was never reported before as having the ability. This is good to know. Did you witness the process?"

"No, Elder. I was summoned by the Priestess and required to leave the room."

"So it's only what you overheard the Matron telling the Priestess."

"No, Elder, you'll recall I heard Matron Itlaun ask a servant to wake him and bring him to her. I saw him touch her forehead and he behaved like he intended to take some kind of action. This was whole marks before that conversation."

"Of course. And you never saw the stillborn?"

"No, though I did see Matron Itlaun's face when she referred to it. It was not pureblood, you know it wasn't."

"I know. But you didn't see it dead."

I breathed out. "No, Elder. Wilsirathon chose to interrogate me then before she fell asleep."

"And you handled that fairly well, but for the Priestess using it as an excuse to send for you later..." She sighed. "Were you making up the reason for the disruption to prevent Wilsira from suspecting her son's lack of control?"

I paused. "Not...to the best of my knowledge, Elder."

D'Shea looked a bit surprised. "You are not sure."

"I thought I felt a voice like I've felt before with Lana, and the wizard's blue pendant was glowing briefly. They did happen simultaneously, and the gem was struck by a psionic attack previously."

"That may still not mean what you think it means, Sirana."

"I understand, Elder. But the timing was notable."

"But with a ritual happening at the same time..." D'Shea shook her head. "It's impossible to know for sure what happened. How certain are you that Kerse climaxing is actually what disrupted it?"

"Very certain. The voice disappeared shortly before Kerse broke his guard and reached for me, and I talked with him while pleasuring him, you recall. He said she wanted planar names. Curgia screamed and I felt the magic fall apart as Kerse's seed spurted all over my face."

Gaelan covered her mouth with her hand at the mental image.

"Which brings us to the cloth used to clean you up that's now missing," D'Shea said, tapping her fingers on the arm of her chair. "What had you intended to do with it?"

I shrugged slightly. "Throw it away, eventually. I just didn't want to leave it behind in Itlaun's garbage."

My Elder nodded slowly. "Generally a good idea."

I got the feeling there was something she wasn't saying. Again.

"The bloodstone," she said now. "Gaelan, bring it to me."

Gaelan did, and we both watched as D'Shea turned it over in her hand, studying it, whispering an odd word here and there, the fingernail on her thumb scraping at the specks of my blood that yet remained on it. She did not take her eyes off it even when she spoke on a different topic altogether.

"Shyntre gave the pendant back to you when he saw it had been changed," she said quietly.

When she said nothing more, I responded with an equally quiet, "Yes, Elder."

"What do you think of him now, Sirana?" she asked. "Given how it was the first time between you."

I had to be very careful here. "He's still as he was—intelligent but overburdened with anger. He resists providing answers, it makes me only more intrigued. He despises us and I would like to know why."

"Are you asking?"

Why not?

"Yes, Elder. Why does Shyntre hate the Sisterhood so?"

My Elder smiled, her eyes still on the bloodstone. "Have you seen Jael yet, Sirana?"

That was taking an abrupt sharp turn in the discussion, wasn't it?

"No, Elder. Is she still with the Sisterhood?"

"She is. She'd had a harder time than you, I dare say, since a few of the Sisters aren't convinced she should have been saved. Rausery and Qivni both, however, are two of those who changed her mind, and it has made all the difference. I believe they are very pleased with her, even if she is still naked most of the time and she rages against us still."

As much interest as this held for me, why were we suddenly discussing our newest recruit when we had been discussing the wizard from my trial...?

D'Shea's eyes finally flicked toward me, and she was still smiling. There was a connection in the conversation that I was missing. I listened to my intuition again; how much I had learned that might suggest to me...

Oh.

"The Sisterhood tested Shyntre in some way?" I asked. 

I'd never actually told her that Shyntre had revealed to me he knew of the Feldeu; she'd been too annoyed with me at the time, having been surprised to hear I was at the Tower from the headmaster Phaellous himself. I had also kept back that I knew of a blood connection, just for now, until I had an opportunity to follow up with Auslan again. Then I would find a way to bring it up to her.




Sufferance Ch. 12



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 2013

This chapter is sort of an interlude (a very long one). We're back to a little more sex with purpose in this, and everything is building on what came before. 

****

I tried not to think about the fact that I hadn't truly lain down in reverie since the fourth or fifth or sixth time I'd fucked Kerse. It seemed a much longer time ago than it was.

Meanwhile inside the cloister, Jael wouldn't have received much rest either—if any. I expected to find her in a certain condition—that is, unclothed and well used, maybe injured depending on how much she'd been "raging," as D'Shea had put it— and I was not wrong, although she had also been bathed very recently and was very clean; her hair was still damp.

She was curled on a bare spot on Rausery's floor; she still looked confused and as though she was biding her time, her eyes shifting here and there and around. One could think she was slow for not having gotten the point of her treatment by now, but I could grant her this: I didn't clearly remember my fifth cycle here, or at least what had been going on when it passed. Our race's various time measuring devices weren't nearby, I'd already spent several cycles in a magical lust-heat that came and went, with rest and food at extremely erratic intervals.

As I understood it, the break with one's previous life had to be complete: strip her down to her bare essentials, and rebuild her as a Red Sister. The bestial look in Jael's copper eyes was a good thing as far as her Elder was concerned, and watched her so amusedly as I bowed and checked in that one might think she was enjoying the antics of a particularly cherished household pet.

"Glad to see you made it back in one piece, Sirana," Rausery said, casually fixing her eyes on me. "Anything interesting to tell me?"

She jested. 

I smiled. "The Sanctuary is drafty despite all the tapestries and Noble Houses use too many candles."

The tactical Elder snorted and stood up from her desk to walk around and stand in front of me. Her blood red eyes—lacking the shots of yellow of Shyntre's but no less vibrant—stared slightly down at me and she leaned to inhale near my ear and my hair.

"Not up in braids?" she asked, reaching to caress one of the free flowing locks.

"No, Elder." 

It would have taken too much time before leaving, and D'Shea had been stripping Gaelan at a faster rate than I'd been dressing. Truthfully I hadn't wanted to stay, and D'Shea wouldn't take her eyes off me until I'd left, despite her excitement in fondling my roommate.

"Might prove an inconvenience. Jael will use any hold she can get."

I was still looking into the Elder's eyes. "Forgive me ignorance, Elder, this is my first time on the other side. What will I be expected to do?"

"Whatever you want. Whatever you think she needs to handle in order to earn your acceptance, barring maiming and death. Those two aren't for you to decide, although feel free to report serious transgressions on her part."

It would take serious maiming or death by Jael's hand to force that; what Red Sister would admit if she lost control of a new recruit? And if that was all, after all I'd seen, then she already had earned my acceptance.

"Have all Sisters had her?"

"Not yet. Some are still out on missions. But of those now in the cloister, only you haven't, so it's your turn."

Should be fun.

"Even D'Shea?" I asked, and Rausery smirked.

"Yes. Never was sure why she took her sweet time with you."

I tilted my head at the too-light tone. Yes, I was pretty sure Elder Rausery did have a guess, but she wasn't offering it to me now.

"May I take her to my quarters?" I asked.

"Of course. Surely you remember being hauled around the cloister last year?"

I nodded. "Yes, but not dragged directly from my Elder's room."

Rausery grinned wider. "One thing I like about you. You're so polite in your tacti obedience. Most of the time. I'll save my score for the times you haven't been for another time."

Oh yes...she was referring to the snippy tone I'd taken while trying to convince her of the impossibility of Jael's given test in the wilderness. I could expect either a caning, a mounting, or long service with my mouth for that one. Maybe a combination. 

"I look forward to feeling again the skill of your firm hand, Elder," I replied with a bow, and Rausery laughed aloud, waving her hand generally toward the naked Drow on the floor.

"Take her. You'll give me your thoughts later as well."

The young recruit scowled at me as I came closer and she fisted her hand, ready to strike out. I leaned down as if to take her wrists, waiting for that first attack, and shifted to let her hit air before darting back in to grip her upper arms and yank her up at least to a sitting position. Only a hoarse growl of frustration came out as she remained in my grasp and I knelt on one knee so we were at eye level with each other.

"Get to your feet and come with me, 'Thietti," I said.

She blinked those fierce eyes at me hearing the short-name. Some of the fog withdrew from her eyes and only then did I think she recognized me. I supposed she had never seen me with my hair down, even disregarding the lack of adequate sleep I saw in her face.

We were two of a kind, then.

"Need I repeat myself?" I asked.

Jael shook her head once and when I released her, she got carefully to her feet. As she uncurled herself, I noticed that she didn't have any white fur on her mound. Interesting. I was also aware of Rausery's gaze on my back even as I dared not take my eyes from Jael; the Elder was watching every muscle twitch we made from her desk, in spite of her casual gesture for me to take the new meat away.

"Keep her for the rest of the cycle, Sirana, though if another Sister finds or comes for her, it'll be up to you to hold on to her unless you're ready to give her up."

I glanced back at Rausery and narrowed my eyes. "I don't recall that, Elder..."

"Oh, it was going on. Trust me. Why do you think some came back for seconds?" Rausery gave me her huntress's smile. "Jaunda was best able to hold you and that helped Gaelan, make no mistake. I think that three-cycle gangbang with one of my teams was while Jaunda was gone. They came to get you soon as she returned, though."

"So... you knew about that, too."

Rausery chuckled. "Of course. You're burning your time, Sirana. Go on."

Jael allowed herself to be led but I could feel the tension coursing through her. I pondered Rausery's odd little purge of information while keeping an eye on the hallways and on Jael.

Why mention that to me now? Trying to tell me how it worked, of course, straight out—the way D'Shea never did. But she'd mentioned Jaunda as though I might want to consider doing the same thing...coming to get her. But I couldn't do that, could I? Jael wasn't D'Shea's. We were on opposite teams, although still Sisters.

Jaunda, my protector, had said she had been the one to watch me before at Court, like I had been the one watching Jael in the field and at her House before her recruitment. My Lead had never had seemed to act like I had anything to prove to her—she only wanted to enjoy my charms, her way. It was one reason I'd "chosen" her to help me.

I had already decided Jael didn't need to prove anything to me. I'd already seen her potential or I wouldn't have saved her. But I didn't have Jaunda's position, nor her skill. Yet. The best I might do for Jael—if Rausery was indeed hinting for me to be somehow different to her from the others, to set myself apart in Jael's view—would be to...well, be myself.

I knew what I wanted to do with her.

Jael shivered a bit and I saw tiny bumps spreading across her skin; I glanced at her dark purple nipples, enjoying the turgid, tight form. She glanced at me, her gaze burning with what seemed accusation, but she said nothing. She looked forward again with her mouth tightly closed and went where I led her. 

We stopped by one of the store rooms so I could grab some food to take with me before entering D'Shea's area of the barracks. Gaelan would be with our Elder for this eve; Jael and I would have the small room to ourselves. When we arrived there, I made sure to lock the door behind us, even knowing it would not prevent all Sisters from entering if they wanted. At least it would give me some warning.

Jael looked around the sparse room and I recognized the expression; she was considering possible weapons. It was a good thing all mine were back in D'Shea's quarters and Gaelan's own chest was still magically sealed to where even I couldn't open it, much less a stranger to the room. The wash basin and pitcher could be used for blunt force attacks, but there was precious little else.

I pushed my hand on Jael's bare back to guide her toward Gaelan's bed, and she went, although reluctance still radiated in each barefooted step. She kneeled to crawl onto the low, basic mattress—again a stark contrast to those beds I'd been around during my last assignment—and rolled to sit on her backside with her knees drawn up. She looked up at me as I began to undress, a tightening of her mouth her only show of dismay.

I wasn't even sure I was up for anything rough; I was tired and hungry, and it wouldn't be a challenge or a game or a high. The tender new Red Sister in front of me behaved much more like a wounded animal than healthy prey. It wasn't really to my taste, forcing a weakened and vulnerable target that I hadn't already taken the time to wear down myself. It was kind of like scavenging, at least in my opinion.

I still knew what I'd seen before in Jael as well, and I doubted my Sisters had broken that in five cycles, despite some of those with a lack of any grace.

I waited until I was nude before picking up one of the small bags of rations and sitting on the edge of the bed. I ate first, dipping into the mixture of energy-rich pods, seeds, dried meats, and toasted pastes. Chewing methodically and swallowing, I offered some to Jael from the same bag.

She didn't take long to accept; she had been watching my hands, which I'd kept in full view the entire time. The risk in eating it was as low as she could expect. We finished that bag and again she watched me open and sample the second before accepting more. She was as hungry as I was.

When we had finished the two bags—and I'd kept back a third for later—I gestured with a twirl of my finger. "Roll over, Jael. On your side, facing the wall."

That would put her back to me. The muscles in her arms flexed and she stared at me, glanced around the room again looking for something to use against me, then back. I watched her without moving. Once given long enough to consider alternatives, Jael did the smart thing and obeyed.

I lay down and moved up close to her, cradling her back and buttocks with my body, very similar to how I'd slept with Kerse that last time. With one arm folded beneath my head, my free hand drifted over soft skin and the occasional bruise, over her flank and hips and right buttock. She flinched when I caressed her ass; still sore, no doubt. No surprise. I'd been constantly raw except for two times a Sister had given a healing draught—but that was just so she could make me sore again.

I kept my hand away from her orifices since it was not my intent anyway. She was toned and strong, and her scent was one I enjoyed up close; fragrant and earthy without being tart, neither too musky nor flowery.

I stroked her arm up and down and then reached beneath it to cup one pert breast, first rubbing my thumb back and forth over her nipple, then in slow circles. She drew in breath and tensed as I nuzzled through her hair and nibbled on the back of her neck. My nibbles became a lazy suck, and the slow circles around her nipple became even slower.

"What are you doing?" she asked through clenched teeth.

"Whatever I want," I responded, my breath hot in her hair.

"So... do it already."

"I am. And be quiet. I'm very tired right now."

She huffed a laugh tinged with bitterness. "Tired? Oh, poor Sister! So sorry to have burdened you so with my waiting cunt!" she sneered, and I couldn't help but chuckle against her shoulder. "What's so funny? You're supposed to fuck me with your magic prick, aren't you? To take your turn? That's what Elder Rausery said, plain as candlelight."

I gave her nipple a little squeeze and a twist; I was just playing with it but she tensed and squeaked. "That's not what I heard."

She growled, "Then you must be deaf."

In that short exchange, I was also more than mildly aroused. The wounded animal mindset seemed to be passing, just as I thought it might. It was a pity...my libido was now warring directly with the dire need to rest. I removed my hand from her breast and spread it flat over her abdomen, hoping that might help. I breathed in deeply, then back out, slowly, enjoying her scent and managing to relax more.

The silence stretched as I closed my eyes and listened to her breathing—faster than mine—and felt her charged energy as we were pressed skin-to-skin.

She was waiting for something to happen.

Nothing would. Just as Rausery had instructed, I had decided what she needed to endure in order to earn my acceptance: Nothing. I already knew it would be a good test for her.

I accepted the risk of drifting into reverie, resting while I had the opportunity.

*****

In my dreams, that dark silhouette was stroking my belly tenderly. The skin of my abdomen was exposed to sunlight, highlighting a little more grey tone to it than I'd ever realized was there. My stomach still was mostly flat but the feminine hand fancied that she could detect the new bulge just beginning to distend.

The birthing time was more than a year away, if I survived that long. Because of my station, the choices—all of them—would be hard ones. All except for the initial choice to take seed in my cunt in the first place.

It wasn't my fault.... I didn't have the choice this time.

How could I have known?

The dark silhouette spoke this time. She didn't have her dagger. She said it was useless.

*How ironic. The growing one, protected in your womb...was the only one who could have protected you from me...*

*****

Jael jerked when I did, startled by the sudden movement as I was jarred awake. I was still holding her against me, and by the scent and the warmth surrounding us, neither of us had moved for quite a while. Had she slipped into reverie as well? If she had, she'd passed my test.

The dream itself faded from my mind's eye slowly. If not for the reoccurring shape and the sunlight, I might have discarded it already as just one of my anxieties expressing itself after the terrible tension of dealing with Wilsirathon's impregnation obsessions and Kerse's damnably high volume of semen when he climaxed. Now the unknown Surface and the pregnancy worry were mixing. Lovely.

I really hadn't liked that dream. I didn't want to be pregnant. I wished I could have become a Red Sister without my fertility being restored... Of course, I hadn't ever been pregnant so I didn't have absolute proof that it had been restored, but I could easily believe so. Not only from what Lelinahdara and the Red Sisters had told me, but from how it had felt after that ritual: that insane need to couple, and the fact that it had been best eased when semen had been present. The longest reprieve from that heat that I'd been given had been right after Kain had come inside me. 

I heard Jael lick her lips and swallow as she came fully awake. She shifted her head slightly, trying to look around her. I wondered if she was confused where she even was. It was possible.

"Rest well?" I asked, and she tensed against me but didn't pull away or try to turn around. I was sure now that she had indeed rested; the comparative tension that returned was a stark contrast. Good girl.

"Sirana."

I smiled even though she couldn't see it. "You know my name?"

"I heard Qivni say it...in the field, when they caught me."

"Impressive. Panagan was really driving into you by that time. Surprised you were aware of anything beyond her grunting and the plowing you were getting." 

She growled softly but didn't take the bait. Another mark in her favor. "They've also mentioned you since then."

"Oh? What do they say?"

"Mostly Panagan and Moria crowing about beating you in the Hunt for me. I think they mention it too often for it to be quite as they say."

That pleased me very much to hear; Jael was not too gullible. However... "Maybe Panagan did beat me. Rausery's unit claimed you, after all."

She made a scoffing noise. "I saw you fighting the Duergar. Panagan just stayed back shooting."

"She's a very good shot. It was the most effective way for us to fight."

Jael paused as if she was confused why I was defending my rival. Mostly it was that Panagan in truth was a good archer, she was a Sister, and I no longer had anything to prove to her. I didn't care what she was saying, and there would be no benefit to Jael underestimating any Sister just to feed my ego—not while she was at the bottom of all of them.

Jael decided to drop it.

"Why am I alive?" she asked instead. "I was dying out there in the wilderness, I knew it...after the fight I knew I couldn't survive my wounds. I closed my eyes. Next thing I knew...I was awake and I was well. Full of energy. And you two were standing there looking at me."

"Didn't they tell you?"

She was still tense and hadn't yet looked my way; my breasts were warm pressed to her back. "I want to hear it from you."

I considered. So what had they told her? Rausery said Jael had been having a harder time because not all Sisters were convinced she should have lived...

Maybe I should just be truthful here.

"I gave you my life-saving healing potion. Each Sister out on a mission has one, but only one."

Jael didn't reply at first and I waited, content to lie comfortably, relaxed for the first time in weeks, truthfully.

"So...it was true. You didn't let me die. Why?"

Simply, I had wanted her. For several reasons. "Are you disappointed? Do you wish it otherwise?"

"...no. But...several others wish it were so."

"But not the ones who count."

"Which are?"

"The Prime, and the Elders. And me. I made the decision."

"And you were the youngest, before they grabbed me."

Now I paused. "That wasn't why I healed you."

"No? You didn't want a new cunt to take your place?" She clearly didn't believe that, and she wasn't entirely wrong.

"Not just any new cunt. I've watched you, Jael. Other places aside from the last Illithid battle. You are right for us, and you did make it back to the City from the wilderness. Being the youngest is a necessary test. Each Sister who gains her leathers has gone through it."

Again she paused. "So you watched me...you are the reason they came for me?"

"No. *You* are the reason they came they came for you. My assignment was just to observe."

"Which you didn't do when I finally fell in battle."

"Well, by then I was given leave to act on your behalf."

"So, what...you strictly follow rules? Or only when it's convenient?"

Her tone of voice implied she had a fairly accurate guess about that. I chuckled.

"I work within the rules to make them work for me. You could do with a little less flat-out rebellion against your Sisters, Jael. It only attracts more force being used. Your trials should have told you that."

She was dead silent for a long while. "Still watching, then?"

"When possible. I know you don't like Draegloth. What was it like being surrounded by them at the Sanctuary?"




Sufferance Ch. 12



I had pushed her already-fragile composure past a breaking point with that one. She tried to jerk away and I only just caught her back. She cursed at me and tried again to escape. Her struggles were much more challenging than Shyntre's, and I had Jaunda and her one-on-one tutoring to thank for managing to hold Jael now. Eventually, I had to turn the new Sister onto her belly, force her to hold still and climb on top. It wasn't a hardship for me—the wriggling and flexing of her buttocks against my groin made me groan low in my throat as I held on to both her wrists above her head and held her down with my weight.

The side of her face was pressed to the mattress and now she looked up at me with one eye through her hair. Her teeth were still clenched. "Now you're going to do it? Fuck hard as you want to, you won't impress me."

I smiled and kissed her ear. She was assuming, just as I had, that every Red Sister had her own Feldeu. Not always. "Mmm. Tempting. You do smell good. But first... tell me whether you knew there are Abyssal commands that can be used on a Draegloth that stops him cold or sends him away?"

She blinked, needing to focus to expand her lungs enough to talk. "No. Are there...?"

"Yes. Qivni knows some, and I know she watched you against the Draegloth. She's only impressed with self-discipline, however, so you may have some trouble with her on that account."

Jael was quiet but I could almost hear her thoughts racing; some of the frustration on her face melted away, along with some of the tension in her body. It was abrupt enough to make me wonder whether I could be wrong about something I'd just said.

"How was Qivni, anyway? Satisfying?" I teased. 

I didn't see how she could be. I'd found Rausery's Lead to be anything but satisfying. However, Jael's reaction did intrigue me; she turned her face into the mattress so I couldn't see it, muffling any possible reply as well. Perhaps her relationship to Qivni was somehow a little warmer than was my own? She would have had some time under her by now; if they'd found anything in common...

"Ah...does she like you? Why would that be?"

Her hips moved under me again as if she was trying to wriggle out...or trying to tease me. It had been brief.

"Jael?"

"Shut up," she mumbled. "She warned me not to talk to you about her."

Darling. As if I could resist that challenge.

I pulled her arms down to cross her wrists at her lower back so that I could keep her in submission but have one hand free. She made an enticing sound, wordless but protesting, as I slid my fingers down her side and in between us, along the crease of her butt and thigh, reaching to touch her sex. She squealed softly as I felt her netherlips and probed at her hole with a finger. She was a little moist, but only to have felt some kind of arousal very recently: as we struggled, but not before. She'd have been very dry before, and I knew her soreness would have been the cause.

I thought she wasn't fighting me as hard as she might.

"As you wish," I said and released her, lifting my weight and moving to one side, keeping her between the wall and me.

She rolled and scooted to gain a little space between us then she looked at me with high suspicion and incredulity.

"You're either playing with me or you're frigid and can't fuck. Which is it?" she demanded.

I burst out laughing and took her hand, leading it between my thighs. "If that feels frigid to you, let me know."

I was far wetter than she was, and her fingers played around with my sex in a more automatic motion, I thought, because she seemed to realize what she was doing. She snatched her hand back as soon as I moaned aloud.

"Little tease," I chuckled.

"So you're just playing. Qivni told me you were like that."

I propped my head with my elbow and smiled, studying her face. "I think I know what it is. You both have that serious streak with a lower threshold for play. Am I not dour enough to arouse you?"

Jael frowned but looked more confused. Finally she seemed to be catching up with me. "So... what's Qivni to you?"

"Nothing much. Someone who'd like to whip my ass until it's raw, I'm sure, because I tend to laugh at her." I paused, screwing up my face in thought. "Oh wait, she has."

"Nothing much? She's as high in rank as Jaunda is."

"And Jaunda laughs while she fucks me. I know which I prefer."

"Which might explain the general lack of forethought Qivni gives you."

"So good humor equals brainlessness, does it? Goddess, you *have* had some good conversation with Qivni, haven't you?" I grinned. "I'm impressed. She barely said anything to me. I think it annoyed her that I was climaxing and she wasn't. So why hasn't she told you about her familiarity with Draegloth?"

Jael shrugged, still frowning. "I'm new...not yet time, maybe..."

"I've had the same thought. You'll find that thinking is pervasive in all levels of rank regarding information and who should know what—whether or not anyone laughs about it."

"But...couldn't the Sisterhood could be stronger if the Leads knew more...?"

"Or they'd use that extra information to do more harm to us out of ignorance. You've probably heard the phrase, 'Knows just enough to be dangerous.'"

Jael smirked. "Strange. That's what she said to watch out for in you. That you are unpredictable, ignorant, and do not keep the good of the Sisterhood in mind at all times."

"Aww. I'm hurt."

I also couldn't believe what I was hearing. Not the exact words, they didn't surprise me in the least, but the fact that in gossiping about me this way, Qivni was already planning for Jael to stay and had been grooming her to her own way of thought while I was away. 

"I'd really like to know how you moved your tongue to get her to move hers that way, Jael. A bit hypocritical of her, though, as she has me and my 'unpredictability' to thank for you even being in her bed."

Jael gave me a look and withdrew from the discussion then. Perhaps she realized that she didn't know more, or didn't know what to do with what she did know. I think she also realized she'd been talking too much about her Lead. I, for one, was very grateful it had taken her that long to realize it—and I had been trading information with her, whether she knew it now or not.

I added, "I suppose she's just training you early. She likes you. That counts for a lot. Don't do anything stupid like try to kill another Sister through your tests and you'll stay with us. Give it time and forge some successes, and those others will forget how you came to be here."

"But you're still new as well," she said. "How do you know they'll forget?"

"Most Sisters live in this moment of time. Only a few are required to live in perpetual forethought. Wasn't it the same at your former House? We're still Drow, aren't we?"

Hesitantly, Jael nodded once. She seemed to be thinking of Qivni as her tutor, but I could see on her face... she was comparing and weighing me as a contrast. That was good; knowing the value on both sides had more options than willful blindness toward one side or the other.

"You lived in your present at your former House, Jael. Whose task or burden was it to live in the future?"

"The Matron's."

"And in this cloister...whom would you say has that burden?"

"The Prime...and the Elders, Rausery and D'Shea."

I nodded. "Like I said, do what you do best and as their show of appreciation the others will forget what I did to bring you here."

I saw a wry smile touch her mouth as she looked at me. "And you mean to be one of those perpetual forethinkers, don't you? Given enough time."

I smiled back. "Maybe."

"You can have it," she said. "Always hated the Court."

"I could tell." I reached out now to nudge her shoulder. "On your back."

She blinked, surprised and tensing up again before she regained control of herself and slowly rolled herself in place to recline. I liked that I was keeping her off guard. I moved closer, remaining on my side, and smoothed my hand along her inner thigh. I could smell her fragrance, subtle as it may be without the hair. I wanted to taste it and make that fragrance stronger.

Jael's protest was incomplete as I pulled her leg open and crawled between her thighs on my elbows and knees. Her mound had been shaven clean recently, and it made me wonder which Red Sister had opted for that? I'd kept my adornment through my tests—even though Jaunda liked to cut it short—and Jael had still had the white, curling fur crowning her thighs when I'd seen her in the wilderness.

I kissed the bare mound. It was incredibly smooth as if the shave had just happened, and Jael again made a sound like she didn't want me to continue but knew she had no choice. I ran both hands along her inner thighs and ended by rubbing both thumbs slowly along her netherlips. Her hands were gripping the blanket and I had to wonder what she expected, or dreaded, from me?

Then again, I supposed I'd had one blessing last year that she didn't: for the first few days of the continuous rapes at the hands of my Sisters, I'd still felt the effects of the fertility ritual. The pleasure had been ever-present, even with the pain. By the time it faded and my responses were more normal, I had already been well-trained on how to glean pleasure from the rough treatment. With myself, Gaelan, and Jaunda as my prime examples, it hadn't occurred to me until now that perhaps it took other Red Sisters longer to learn to take pleasure from the tests.

Jael was showing avoidance responses still after six cycles...and I could lay the blame for that right at Panagan's feet for her short-sightedness. I sighed.

I admired the novice's naked slit, noticed the hot pink, raw look inside her dark lips, and on closer inspection I saw tiny, swollen bumps where the individual hairs would have been. I touched and peered closely, and realized that no blade—no matter how thin—could have removed not only the hairs but the roots as well...

"Did a Sister pluck every hair out of your sex, Jael?" I asked, letting the surprise come through in my voice.

She shook her head but didn't elaborate.

"No? This wasn't done with a blade. How was it done?"

"Wax," she said shortly, staring up at the ceiling. "Thena used wax and strips of cloth to rip it all out."

I took a moment to imagine that and grimaced. That had to hurt intensely for several moments. "Well, that might be preferable to plucking out one at a time."

She tried to shrug it off but she was anxious. "Perhaps. It was still blinding. She said now I was officially the 'baby' of the group and that I'd be like this for weeks. She said she'd remove the hair the same way anytime I grew more."

Symbolic pre-pubescence? That could have been one of the responses to Jael's questionable "validity" on her wilderness test... I could see it. At least it had been done with some skill; I didn't see any torn skin. Just bare, slightly pebbled dark skin. Fairly rare amongst females, from what I knew, even if trimming and sculpting was quite common. It wasn't discouraging for me, though; I could still admire the full, mature lips and the lovely symmetry with which Lolth had blessed her.

All the same...it would seem Thena was making a play for Jael as well, not just Qivni and me. I'd have to do something about that eventually.

For now, I lowered my mouth onto that naked sex, offering sucking kisses and flicking my tongue gently over the smooth flesh. She drew in her breath. I tasted a mild soap and felt the heat of her slit was greater than my tongue as I tested the spongy, swollen flesh. She was indeed sore; forceful penetration at this point would just make her draw away from me. Her body language told me she was waiting for it, expecting it, ready.

I opted to see how long she could anticipate pain that might never come. I could mouth another female for ages and not lose patience; it was one skill, though forced on me while young, had since been transformed into a kind of quiet contemplation. I did not have to think about anything much except for the scent below my nose, the give of tender flesh against my tongue and lips, and the moist heat that reminded me of an underground hot spring. 

Sometimes I'd withdraw and let her feel the chill of the air as I blew soft breath onto her, then I'd lick lightly, suck with pure enjoyment, and always keep her wondering when I'd turn from lavishing to punishing as my hands explored her thighs and buttocks.

I heard her arms move at one point and I looked up; her eyes had closed and her left hand was gently twisting one of her nipples. She opened her eyes almost instantly and stopped, either sensing my gaze... or else she had felt my lips smile against her.

"Mmm," I hummed, encouraging, and I saw her mouth open at the sensation. Her hand fell back to her side just before I closed my eyes again, continuing to service her.

Her reluctance made for a very slow climb, but at least the climb was there. Her tension through it changed at last from the anticipation of pain to the acknowledgement of pleasure. 

When Jael started closing her legs involuntarily, a little bit at a time, and when those smooth, strong thighs finally began to squeeze my ears, I wrapped my arms more tightly around her thighs, forcing them to remain open, choosing my preference over hers. She gasped at the first show of force and I mouthed her with more enthusiasm, finally pushing her toward that steeper part of her climb. It was time she be pushed.

"Ah! Lolth..." she moaned, and for a moment she sounded afraid as she gripped the blanket in both hands. "S-stop—"

She felt she was losing control of her responses, and maybe it hurt just a little. Good. No dominant in her right mind would stop at this point.

I pierced her with a spear-shaped, stiff tongue, over and over, alternating with harder strokes against her clitoris. She yelped and shifted her legs, then I felt her heels digging into my back. She gave me an aborted scream when I released one thigh to push a single finger inside her, rubbing hard a few times at the firm ridge at the roof of her cunt.

*That's it, little scrapper...let it go.*

Jael moved her hips of her own accord and made more and more frequent sounds—chirps and calls and groans—such a contrast from her earlier silence that it drove my excitement higher. I wanted to push her farther, to see how far she could go. I was so aroused at this point, aching, I wished I did have a Feldeu ready to penetrate her, to feel her slick body clutching around me as I felt our breasts pressed together, her legs wrapped around my hips...

I was using two fingers, thrusting into her, hearing those delicious, sloppy noises that told me she might be staining the blanket below us very soon...

At that worst possible moment, the door opened. 

Someone gloated, "Ha! Found you."

Jael jerked away from me, her gasp one of utter horror as her climb came to an abrupt halt. 

I was moving before I had thought beyond a venomous, *Fuck you.*

The intruding Sister was ready for a response as I charged the tiny room, but she still fell for a feint. Her eyes were focused on my arm and my fist as I wound up for a solid right hook and at the last moment, I side-kicked her knee instead.

Oh yes, the knee again; one place where it didn't matter that she wore armor and I was bare naked. If this cunt thought she was going to interrupt me and reclaim Jael at this point, she was sadly mistaken!

I followed up with that strike to her face with the heel of my hand and she stumbled and fell to all fours. I had the metal wash bowl in hand as she reached for something on her belt, and I discovered that whatever she'd selected wasn't an area effect as I smashed the bowl into her hand. She cried out, dropped it, and I had barely enough time to fall on her and seize her in one of Jaunda's holds. I wrapped my legs around her from the back and hooked my heels at her knees, slipping my arms beneath hers and clasping my hands together at the base of her neck.

She cursed at me, infuriated and unable to reach any more tools. We rocked and thrashed for good long time, the jutting points of her armor and weapons bruising and scraping my nude body. Jael remained on the bed at first, watching but not interfering.

"LET ME GO!!" Thena screamed. "Fuck you, Sirana! I'm going to split your ass for this!"

I felt my mind fill immediately with gleefully sadistic thoughts. "Hey, Jael? Come over here and start stripping Thena naked, would you?"

I saw Jael think about it, smile, and she started moving toward us.

My captive who'd denuded Jael's crotch struggled even harder. "No! Jael..." she warned intensely. "I'll make it *much* worse for you later if you do."

I saw Jael's more wary expression as she slowed up, and agreed. Yes, Thena was probably right. Neither of us had a working Feldeu or any other sexual equipment, so breaking Thena would be difficult. The novice would pay a high price later, and I wouldn't have discouraged Thena one whit from training Jael more to her liking than mine....

What I needed were witnesses, not simple torture.

"Okay, then. Jael, take off her belt and weapons instead, and step back."

I accepted quite a lot of pain to hold Thena as her struggles intensified. I managed long enough for Jael follow my instructions and it wasn't lost on me that Jaunda's skill and Kain's stubbornness, I would have lost my hold.

Nonetheless, I enjoyed the sight of Jael smiling again, her naked thighs still glazed with her own lubricant as she stood over us with Thena's belt in hand.

I said, "Now pull off that third pouch on the right side, the one with two knots side by side."

"Sirana!" Thena yelled, gasping from her efforts to break free and I gained another bruise as she snapped her head backward and struck me in the ear. I'd turned my head just enough that she didn't get my nose.

"Agh, ow...okay, yes, that one, Jael. Open it and sprinkle a pinch of the powder over her face."

"I'm going to kill you," Thena seethed.

I kissed my captive's ear. "Oh, come now, sometimes we're just in the wrong place at the wrong time. This is one of your times. Make sure she breathes it in, Jael."

I held my breath and closed my eyes as Jael followed through; Thena tried to do the same, but the youngest Sister punched her straight in the stomach, forcing her breath to explode and draw in air again immediately. The elder coughed and moaned and cursed us both as the powder covered her face.

Given enough time, Thena fell unconscious, going lax in my grip. I kept hold of her, breathing out very slowly with my mouth and nose pressed as low on her spine as I could reac, then breathed in again as slowly. My lungs were burning for more air than I was getting for several long moments as I waited to see if Thena was acting.

Jael saved me some time by slapping the older Sister's face. A good thought on her part; I couldn't have given her instruction at that time without breathing in the lingering sleep powder. When there was no response at all to the slap, I let go and got to my feet.

The newest Red Sister laughed softly, looking from Thena to me.

"Now what?" she asked.

"Now we dump her and her equipment outside where Rausery's Sisters will find her, then we come back here and pick up where we left off."

"Naked?"

"Absolutely. That's even better. Although keep one dagger just in case; that one, the one made with obsidian. Be ready to pass it to me."

With Jael's help, I managed to get the dead weight of our unconscious Sister face down over my shoulder, and the novice got the door for me as I carried Thena out farther into the cloister. It tested my endurance at this point, but we managed to find a few members of Rausery's Team Five.

I kneeled in front of them to lay Thena down on the stone ground, managing not to crack her head. It was a good idea not to be *too* aggressive unless I was looking for another fight. I would much rather have a fuck.




Sufferance Ch. 12



They blinked and stared at me, able to see the many clear marks on me from the struggle, her bloody lip and nose, and also able to see the fact that Thena was still fully clothed. Jael tossed her belt and weapons on top of her and stepped back behind me, holding on to one sheathed dagger.

I said, "Please tell Elder Rausery I may be a little longer, but will bring Jael to her quarters when I'm finished."

After a silent moment while I waited to see if these three would decide to attack Jael and me, I saw one notice Thena's obsidian dagger and a second cover her smile behind a glove. They each looked at the other, and at last the ranking one nodded, staring at Thena's unmoving form.

"Sure."

I bowed with a smile. "My hungry cunt thanks you."

They chuckled as I hooked Jael's waist eagerly with one arm, taking the dagger from her—which she surrendered willingly—and pulled her away with me. I listened for an attack at our backs and was ready for it, but it never came. My witnesses had decided to let me keep what I'd earned, and it was up to them what to do with Thena.

I considered it a very good sign.

There were no words as we made our way back quickly to the room, but I could sense genuine excitement in my prize. I slid my hand down to cup her rump once and squeezed, and again there was that soft laugh.

I was glad she could still laugh.

Once inside the room, Jael turned and kissed my mouth first, pressing herself to me. I reacted on instinct, clutching her hard and keeping our mouths locked, stroking inside hers with my tongue. I pushed her to step backward toward the bed. She explored my back and my backside, squeezing and scratching, and as we settled onto the mattress on our knees facing each other, she leaned down to suckle my breasts. I lobbed the dagger to the side, still within reach for either of us.

Even though I had expected it, Jael's intense enthusiasm nearly left me spinning. It was so different from before. My skin was now bruised in many places and my bedmate pressed a lot of those sore spots without thinking, but I couldn't help chuckling, kiss after kiss. Something buoyant and powerful surged in my chest as she whispered that she wanted me, wanted to please me, and did I like it *this* way...?

I groaned, threading my fingers into her loose hair, and soon I was not feeling a lick of pain now that didn't blend with pleasure as she moved down my body. When I felt her fingers slide inside me, I sucked in breath to say, "Fuck...don't stop..."

Perhaps as my reward, or a show of gratitude, she made me cum quickly with her fingers and her mouth while I was still kneeling and leaning back. I had been more than ready.

Jael was surprised to learn that I didn't have a Feldeu to use on her but accepted the fact, adjusting her expectations. She still lay back with her legs open, holding and tugging on my wrist to pull me to her. "Cover me."

I believed I knew what she wanted and I found I was eager to try this. I had watched her do it before, but only she had been on top. 

I lay on her now with our legs intertwined; my left thigh was between her legs and pressed tight to her bare bound, her own left thigh in the same place tight against mine as she crooked her knee to apply pressure. Oh, yes...

I moved my hips similar to a thrust, grinding my sex against her thigh and I felt her doing the same against mine, sharing the heat and slickness of our bodies. I shuddered and breathed raggedly, both hands clutching her hips, my mouth pressed to her neck. Jael arched her back, breathing quickly as she moved her hips faster against me.

"...ah...ah..." she moaned in rising volume. "Yes...oh, oh! Oh!"

The sound of her voice made me fuck harder, moving in a powerful rhythm and I bit her neck with a growl. She squealed, starting to thrash beneath me as she screamed, "YES!"

My thigh became so slick between her legs I almost couldn't hold the pressure and friction hard enough. She clutched her hands to my back, digging in her nails, and helped us by thrusting her hips up and riding her peak as long as she could, hollering as she coasted. She was one of the most vocal Drow I'd had, and the excitement at hearing it so raw and uninhibited—something I hadn't been expecting—pushed me to my second climax with her. I marked her thigh with my juices as thoroughly as she had marked mine.

My face was buried in the mattress at the crook of her neck and I gasped hard trying to catch my breath. Jael moaned softly and kept stroking my back, trailing her fingernails slowly down toward my buttocks. We were covered in sweat and I thought our legs might stick together if we fell asleep like this...

When I felt fingers combing my hair, I also realized that her breath was stifled; I was putting a lot of my weight on her again. I shifted some of it onto my elbows and felt her chest expand farther in response. My eyes were still buried against her and she remained quiet.

Waiting for something to happen.

The warmth and stickiness was pleasant enough, earthy and humid like a steam bath, but eventually reality returned. I felt some tension rise in her right about the time it came to me that I didn't know what to do next.

In my Court years, after a fun or intense bout, I'd get up and stretch, say something amusing if there wouldn't be a next time, or something suggestive if there would. Sometimes I'd clean up there, or sometimes I'd go to my own quarters first, the scent of sex wafting behind me. All those had been male.

With Jaunda or any of her team, I was sent away when they were done; with Gaelan, we'd either be hustling to our next summons or would fall into reverie, exhausted, knowing only too soon we'd be working again. With D'Shea and Rausery....oh, those were more a series of lessons. And Kerse? Well, I had plenty to see to afterward.

In one form or another, I'd always left a lover relatively soon after climaxing.

It didn't feel...smart. Not at this moment. As if I'd be missing some opportunity.

I lifted my head to look down at Jael's face. She was wary and a little uncomfortable, looking up at me and meeting my eyes. The simple reality was that the youngest Red Sister didn't know what to expect from me now, and my being so caught up in my victory— standing against yet another ranking Sister—well, I hadn't thought quite far enough ahead to know myself. 

It was up to me what happened next. I could get off and let the cool air separate us and take her back to Rausery. I could start touching her again and delay the inevitable....

But half of maintaining control of any situation was acting like one knew what she was doing. I didn't know quite yet but I could bluff it.

I reached to cup her face, my thumb running lightly over her bottom lip, darker and swollen from the intense activity. I smiled. She relaxed, just a little.

"I've wanted to ask...why your eyes are that odd color," she said quietly.

"Are you asking now?"

She nodded. "Yes, Sister. I am."

"Born that way. Somewhere back in my line, another Drow had blue eyes."

"Mm. It's memorable."

"I bet that was the point at the time. I tend to forget until others bring it up, and often it's too dark to tell."

Jael nodded but went quiet again, lying still beneath me and relaxed for once. As her eyes drifted and ceased looking at anything inside the room, I squeezed a breast to get her attention.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Qivni," she admitted, lowering her chin a bit.

"What about her?"

 "I think I see why she dislikes you. But...I don't. I have no reason, and more reason to... I...I'm uncertain...how to—"

"How to handle liking one of D'Shea's Sisters?" I asked.

She nodded. "Near enough."

That was indeed an interesting dilemma. It gave me several ideas at once.

"I have a suggestion."

"I'm listening."

"The more you show any preference for me, the more they'll put us at odds with each other. When you get an order to test yourself against me, because you will eventually, I won't hold it against you. I'd expect you to do your best. You have to expect the same in return."

She nodded reluctantly. "At odds...but we've never been. Not since slaying the Illithids' creatures. And then the Duergar..."

"Defend me too much to Qivni, or show in public anything you've shown in this room, and we *will* be fighting each other, 'Thietti. Guaranteed."

She frowned at my tone. "And you'd fight to win."

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

The tension I felt now was mostly muscles hardening, and she sounded more feisty, as I'd overheard before. "I wouldn't just *give* you victory, Sirana."

That made me smile. "Good to hear. My suggestion, in case I haven't been clear, is to be neutral toward me, or show a slight distaste if you like. It's reasonable to prefer me to Thena after what happened, we've got witnesses, but still focus on impressing Qivni and Rausery, not me. They are the ones who decide your fate, not me."

She smirked in amusement. "You, being the one who gave me this second chance at having a fate at all."

"The importance of that will fade with each future test and achievement. Even to you."

"I almost feel like proving you wrong. Perhaps I was captured by the wrong team."

I shook my head. "That thinking will hold you back. It was a well-timed potion, nothing more. You're alive and in the cloister of the Sisterhood. So now what?"

She didn't realize I was requesting an actual answer until I repeated it: "Now what, 'Thietti?"

Jael swallowed and nodded. "I want to convince Qivni to teach me those Draegloth commands, eventually."

I raised my brows; she had surprised me. "Ambitious goal. Are you going to tell her that I told you about them?"

She shook her head. "No. I believe I saw something like that in the Sanctuary during my trials. I will bring it up from that angle."

Nodding, I shifted off of her halfway, unsticking parts of our skin but still lying close enough to drape a leg over hers and stroke her abdomen. I propped my head up again, studying her face. It was rounder than mine but not by a lot; the jaw and chin softer. Her eyes actually seemed to tilt slightly downward and always had a fierce glint to them even when she was in repose as she was now. Her mouth was small but shaped perfectly, her nose smaller and more pointed than mine, and each ear possessed more of a flare leading down from the tip—more like a curved, wide blade than a long spear head.

Jael still possessed the Nobility features and was not someone I would ever call plain, but her style of beauty was a bit older, I thought, which made sense. House Aurenthin was one of the oldest ones, even being near the bottom. It had had a long, long slide backward over the centuries, and it was expected to disappear before another two had gone by. It had avoided extermination or a coup somehow—the more common reasons a House might disappear entirely and a new one take its place—but had lost resources, connections, and power steadily. I didn't really understand why.

With the classical, older beauty, Jael's face was more exotic to me. The Consorts had been bred for different features since the last time House Aurenthin may have possessed a Consort of their own to breed.

"What happened at the Sanctuary?" I asked quietly. "That was one time I was not able to watch you."

She looked from the ceiling to me and anger passed over her face at my second time bringing that up. "Tell me about *your* trials, Sirana."

That was one performance every Sister who'd been available at the time had been able to watch, from beginning to end. They knew the story and heard my confessions with their own ears. It was easier for me to talk about now as a result.

I nodded. "Like you, I faced a Draegloth first. I handled it differently and was willing to couple after an agreement—any agreement, it almost didn't matter what. I had never encountered one up close before and found him interesting."

Jael did not look impressed. I grinned at the twisted expression and continued, "Second I took on two male Drow, also like you. However, no more than that were sent against me. Again, I was more willing. Overall. "

"Manipulator," she said.

"Well. Yes. Fighting as you did would have only made me too tired to climax."

She blinked, then looked amazed and shifted away so she could get on her elbow and look at me straight on. "Wait...you climaxed during your trials? Even when you were forced?"

"Yes."

"Even when it hurt?"

"That depended on how much damage I took. I tried to minimize it."

Jael narrowed her eyes at me. "You are right for D'Shea, then."

"And you're right for Rausery."

She paused, looking between my eyes, one to the other. "What was your third trial?"

 I smiled more tightly, almost a grimace. I no longer felt the hot, impotent anger of before, not fully; it was distant anymore because I had so much more to look toward, I thought. But I wanted to show Jael that I had once been more like her. 

"They recreated a ritual from my childhood. My older sister used to practice on me; she wanted to be a Priestess. One of the rituals involved the Drow on the altar to accept a blade into her cunt to heal her barren womb—not that I understood it at the time. Of course there was no true divine magic in my sister, so it didn't work. It only made me bleed. The Red Sisters brought in a Priestess to show me how it was supposed to be done and I went through it again on the altar."

Jael's eyes had widened significantly. "And...you made it here so...you must have overcome it."

I nodded. "I'll wager it was the same for you, although you still seem to be angry about it."

She flexed a hand, looking down at it as she played with the blanket. "I just don't like the half-breeds."

"So what happened in your third trial?"

She didn't want to describe it or discuss it—that was plain—but she was hesitant to refuse me after what I'd told her, after what I'd done for her.

"You can make it brief," I smiled. "So long as there is a beginning, middle, and end."

Her eyes became vacant a moment as she relived it, and she blinked, drawing in a breath. "Um..."

"They lifted you off the ground in the candle chamber, after you took six males and still had energy to spit at them," I coaxed, leaning my head down like her and looking up, trying to match her gaze.

"Put a bag over my head again," she murmured, continuing my narrative. "They bathed me quickly, used a cloth with something on it to close my wounds and make me less sore. Hauled me somewhere else—it took time to reach it, through a passage. When they took the bag off, I was in a darker chamber. No candles this time, no light. I could feel them, three of them."

"Draegloth?"

She nodded. "Like in...my childhood, too. I'd wake up to one in my bedroom. Sometimes crouching at the foot of my bed, close enough to touch my foot."

Yes, now I recalled Rausery saying something to that effect after the first trial.

"The same one each time?"

She shook her head. "I knew of at least four distinct ones over a score of years."

Now it was my turn to be amazed. "Why were they there?" I asked.

Her mouth pursed tight a moment. "I never knew. It stopped when I was old enough to bear young."

"What stopped?"

"The stalking. The whispers. Occasionally they would reach out of nowhere and cut my arm or ankle, only to disappear. They'd disturb my reverie, hide belongings, move things just to make me doubt my sanity..."

Four Draegloth...four Priestesses plotting? Why in the Underdark would a group of Priestesses want to send their sons to harass one child, and a mere fourth daughter at that! And having them stop such activities once Jael was old enough for breeding...it did imply someone or several had sent the creatures and had then kept them away to prevent unwanted results.

"Is that experience unique to you?" I asked, and Jael blinked at me, confused.

"What are you asking?"

"Has anyone else in your blood family been visited so?"

She went through a series of expressions and nervous gestures before settling on a frown and a finger tap. "I don't know. We didn't compare stories."

"So you never told anyone?"

She shook her head.

"May it be possible?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. No one likes the half-breeds at House Aurenthin."

Interesting.

"Then what happened in the dark chamber with the three?" I reminded her. She clearly wished I hadn't.

"They remembered me," she said. "Knew my name, whispered it over and over. And since I was grown and they were not restrained, it...was like with the first two trials."

"You fought and they dominated you."

She stared at me in silence, but I took it as a yes.

"Did any of them have a bulge in his penis?" I asked plainly. 

Why ask so blatantly? Because there was no chance of coaxing details in a more subtle way out of Jael about this; I could see that scrawled on her face. I was lucky to have gotten what I had so far.

She gave me an odd look. "A what?"

"A bulge. A very wide, round spot, like some of our phallic toys. You've probably seen them with some Sisters. You'd have known it if one of the Draegloth had it. It tends to get hung up inside and he can't pull out for a while after climaxing until it shrinks back down."

Jael's face flushed brighter with energy and her horrified expression almost made me laugh. "...oh. No. No... I hadn't even known some of them were shaped like that."

So it was possible for me to assume Kerse hadn't been one of the three harassers—in the chamber, at least. Who knew exactly which half-breeds had been visiting that low-ranking House and its superfluous daughter for twenty years? Someone knew, but who may be something Jael or I never discovered. It had already been more than half a century in the past.

Although the three still remembered her name...

Surely D'Shea and Rausery both knew a lot more about this?

"I wouldn't mention that detail casually to anyone," I said, "about the bulge."

"Why?"

"It might draw the wrong kind of attention at a time when you're still vulnerable as a molted spider."

"Why bring it up at all, then?" she asked testily.

I smiled and found my voice silent. Maybe I could understand a bit of D'Shea's position here...questions leading someone around. After a while she just might not want to answer the questions one could figure on their own.

In this case the answer was: because I knew a Draegloth who was shaped like that. The answer should be rather obvious, shouldn't it?

I wondered whether I looked to D'Shea's eyes as Jael did to me now? Something about teasing her mind was thrilling. The detail would stick now and Jael would continue to think about it and might come back to me with more information or new questions to consider... this newest Sister knew a side of the Draegloth that I didn't.

Huh. This was probably what D'Shea habitually did. I supposed I enjoyed interacting with my Elder like that as well. I often brought her more information than she'd given me—unfortunate for me—but my consistent reward was to be given enough lead to discover more on my own.

Jael herself might not be like that, or enjoy it as much as I did—I didn't think Gaelan would—but this might be a good way to find out.

So I didn't answer her.

"What was different about the third trial from the first that they decided to test you further in the wilderness?" I asked instead.

"Other than the number of paws and cocks involved?" she spat.

"Yes." I kept watching her face as she struggled to keep her patience with me.

"What does it matter?"

"I was sent out to capture you. That would not have happened if it had been a repeat of the first trial. You didn't do anything impressive then."

She gave me a meaner look which, oddly, reminded me of Shyntre. "I'll try to put more 'impressive' flare into the rape the next time you're watching."




Sufferance Ch. 12



I grinned. "Oh, no need. You were glorious to watch. I wanted my turn with you there and then. But other than fighting, much as you do in battle, it didn't tell me a lot."

"Tell you a lot," she repeated. "About what?"

"You under pressure, near the breaking point." My voice had turned softer, more intimate and level, and I noticed she focused harder to grasp my meaning. "Instead I saw you out in the wilderness, running on pure adrenalin and willing to cause yourself harm to get revenge on the Duergar who hooked you with that barb. You used my smaller dagger to dig it out, didn't you, rather than your short sword? You knew that would still ruin your leg, didn't you? But you didn't care, you were tough, you were going to prove it."

Jael had tensed up at my vivid description as though she was seeing and feeling it again. She tried to lean back from me but I caught her shoulder and held her.

"And you attacked his genitals. I don't mind telling you that as many times as I've been forced, that actually isn't my first choice for revenge—"

Her lips tightened and a muscle in her jaw flexed as I spoke. 

"I was on the ground, it was the most vulnerable spot I could reach!" she interrupted quickly, stubbornly, and I closed my mouth to let her talk. "And I told you...I already knew I couldn't make it back. I ruined my leg to give *you* the chance to kill them! He was doing something to you, to your mind, and the one behind you was getting too many close swings." 

Her voice got tighter and her eyes a bit brighter as she kept speaking. "If you fell, I could only look forward to capture and worse torture from them than that barb. I wanted to die more easily than that. I didn't know why you were there in battle with me again, or whether you were only there to test me more, but...I wasn't too far gone to see you were my best chance to die while still free."

I'd described only what she'd done, in detail. She had felt the need to give me her motive...and I could understand it. As much duress as she'd been under, I was impressed she had recognized me even then. That she aided me to aide herself was natural. I had chosen the hands of the Sisterhood over the denizens of the wilderness as well.

"Then I woke up, and you winked at me." Jael stared at me. "I couldn't be sure it was you who healed me, but...later, they said it was. You weren't supposed to do that."

"Maybe. There was still one Duergar alive in the area, you said so, and I was supposed to keep *you* alive until they were all dead. My orders by Elder Rausery, actually." I smiled.

"Hm." Jael's mouth slowly became a small, wry curve. "Working within the rules... so giving away your last healing potion to a non-Sister was the lesser sin?"

"Compared to failing Rausery's given objective?" I asked. "Absolutely, and you can tell that to Thena and any others with something stuck in their craw. The fact that you're here shows that Rausery can appreciate the command decision I made in the field—fulfill her orders even over my own security. It's probably one reason Qivni accepted you, too—because arguing about it would imply she thought I should have failed Rausery rather than give you my potion. And she would never think that."

Jael nodded slowly. "Is it always like this? The ranking politics?"

"Yes. Some play harder than others."

When at last Jael let that rest, I asked again, "So what was different about that third trial—?"

"ARGH!" she growled in frustration. "You aren't going to let that go, are you?!"

"Not as long as the caverns have stalactites."

She gritted white teeth at me, sitting up to cross her legs and put her elbows on her thighs. I sat up with her, trying to see her face. She was unhappy, frustrated, angry...and shamed?

"I climaxed, alright?" she cried. "I didn't want to, I didn't! It just got to be too much and...it caught me suddenly, I...screamed even around the...there was one in every hole..."

When she closed her mouth, I ran my hand up lightly up her bare back and she stiffened and went quiet. "And after?" I prompted.

She ground her teeth. "Another three. These didn't know my name. I fought them harder, hated it, hated them, hated the Sisters and the Priestesses...still climaxed again. I don't know why... Made me go a third time, like they wanted to be sure or something, and I...I just let it come that time..."

I remembered Jaunda's bark of a laugh when I'd asked her if Jael had withstood the final test: 

*No, she broke. But she stood back up again...That's what counts.*

She broke. Not as in weeping or mentally retreating and lying as a cold fish, but...having orgasms by the creatures she hated most. More than just once.

I scooted to massage her shoulders a little, rigid as they were. She emitted a squeak of protest but stopped fighting me after a moment.

"I think that was what they wanted to see," I said. "I'll tell you that I never had a female lover at Court, because of my sister. I had an...aversion."

Jael let me continue to massage her, and she was still listening even if she wasn't looking at me.

"I handled my trials with the male tests so well...they knew it wasn't a real test. When D'Shea uncovered my distaste after ordering one of the Sisters to clean me with her mouth"—Qivni, actually, but that wasn't important now—"she required that I not only accept it but show my gratitude by responding to her. That was...difficult, Jael. But I managed it. I am glad now not to be burdened by the aversion any longer, and even at the time, I knew that I could survive it and it was far from the worst thing to happen to me."

The youngest Red Sister listened to me talk and let me touch her but said nothing. I'd finished my little parallel tale, having decided to hold back the more shocking story about the Duergar for now—even though it was probably much closer to Jael's experience with the Draegloth, truth be told. For now I used my mouth for more interesting purposes, kissing her shoulder and nibbling her ear. She tilted away slightly.

"You don't expect me to grow to enjoy those beasts the way you grew to enjoy females?" Part question, part statement.

"I have few expectations at the moment," I murmured, licking the warm spice of her skin and she relaxed a little. "Apart from convincing you to demonstrate something for me."

"What?"

"How you made that stock trainer squeal so in the House stables that one time."

She huffed a laugh, and I thought her muscles had finally become reasonably pliable under my hands. I moved to her breasts next.

"So you were watching then, too?" she asked.

"She had a brass choker around her neck and sometimes asked for the animal crop on her stomach and thighs, right?"

"I guess that answers my question." She turned toward me and slid her hand deliberately up my sticky thigh.

******

Rausery received her novice back before she came looking for her, and no other Sister interrupted us again. The Elder let it be afterward, not asking me my opinion or any questions, which baffled me. I went out on smaller, different errands for D'Shea than I'd been doing for the last year.

For now my own Elder seemed to be keeping me away from House Itlaun. I could see why, my being so much more recognizable to the House now, although some other Sister collecting the reports from Auslan made me jealous. The very fact that it did meant it was a good choice that I was being given something else to do. D'Shea may not have realized how much so, given my neglecting to mention certain conversations, but I didn't fight it.

It was easy to distract myself with watching or hearing about Jael's progress as well, whenever I could. In the meantime, I had a few of my own bargains to make good on—Jaunda's Hunt for me and Gaelan's straight fight-and-fuck. Both happened soon as I could manage, and both seemed to put me in their better graces once again—though I knew Gaelan would be much more vigilant around me regardless. That I could not undo.

Gaelan's was a fierce wrestling match done in private; we'd hit our heads in the small room a number of times. If not for the fact that she had taken something to numb pain in general, and thus was partly immune to pressure points, she would not have dominated me that night.

Not that I blamed her for cheating. In any event, she paid for it. Even with the Feldeu she'd managed to get her hands on, the pain-numbing had the side effect of preventing her from achieving climax until the drug had begun to wear off. By then, of course, I'd been thoroughly fucked and was worn out from my own orgasms, and her endurance was sorely taxed. It was easier for me to resist further rather than allowing her to simply saw in and out of my hole until she finally lurched over the hill. 

Oh, no, I was rarely that passive, and she had to prove to me how badly she needed it...

I would say that we ultimately ended up on even ground.

D'Shea honored my agreement with Jaunda as well, and let her and me off for a cycle. My Lead anticipated her Hunt much more than she had our occasional fight before, and I knew she would be impossible to evade forever. There was a point where, if I reached it, I'd won and she couldn't touch me, but she knew some shortcuts that I didn't and had blocked me several times as I searched for a crevasse or tunnel or crack to give me the chance to slip past her and sprint back toward the outskirts of the City.

And if I couldn't find a way, I was at least determined to see what secrets she might feed to me as she took her reward for catching me.

As I streaked across a basin a couple klicks just outside of the City boundary, I knew that she was mostly playing and choosing her time. I was allowed one blade, just like the first time, to be able to defend myself if I ran into a threat aside from Jaunda. The largest creature I ran into before the end was a juvenile lizard, either escaped from a pen or was one of the rarer wild ones, so mostly spent my time in constant motion on silent—and much tougher—bare feet. I could have tried for a defensible place and hide instead, but that wouldn't get me any closer to my "safe point" and I did not really want to be cornered and dragged out of a hole by my ankle like some furry yuru.

At one point I had climbed farther up and then down again into a smaller cavern, still searching for that path that might lead me home, when I thought I sensed a ward nearby. Walking by a boulder streaked with exposed quartz, which made it look a bit like a gash wound in the stone, I paused and soon was sure of what I felt.

*Danger. Threat. Leave.*

Fairly forthright message. But a ward by itself right here, in an otherwise bare cavern? I had been going for several marks now and had not seen sign of Jaunda in almost one; I didn't know where she was or how close. It was not good to stop for long and I wondered whether I might be able to come back when I had my bracers?

Or I could test myself, just out of curiosity...

Touching the stone hurt, sudden and sharp, but I tried to apply some of what I already knew about the pain not being real—without the aid of the bracers—biting the inside of my cheek to keep from making any noise. I couldn't manage more than a few moments of this and got up to sprint several long strides away, quivering and breathing harder when I'd stopped. 

At least I had been able to resist the urge to run and not stop until I was very far away. That was something, at least.

I kneeled out of direct sight behind a larger stone where I could still see the quartz and remained in place for much longer than I should have. I kept looking at it, trying to glean anything more about it as if my dark vision could pierce right through to whatever hole it was hiding—I was assuming it was a passageway, otherwise why place a ward there?—but knew no more after the shaking had stopped than I had when I'd touched it.

I heard a subtle scrape in the dark and went still. Then I looked up first; in the Underdark, one should always look up.

As my vision adjusted to see beyond however it had been cloaking itself, I thought first, *That is a very large spider leg—*

I gasped. Oh, fuck.

A Drider can no longer speak as the Drow it had once been, but it could shriek. And Lolth, this one shrieked as if nine voices of the Abyss were trying to sing in disharmony as I started to run. The purpose was to freeze its prey with fear, I knew that, but I would be dead if I gave in to the effect. Running wasn't much better—a Drider was fast and could climb cavern walls with acrobatic speed—but I had to move or I would freeze in place.

A Drider was guarding that ward! I was so fucked. 

I ran toward a lower tunnel, opposite of where I'd climbed in. There would be a point the monster wouldn't pass if it had indeed been placed here by Auranka the Shifter, the only Priestess blessed by the Valsharess and Lolth to control the Driders.

The creature behind me was the physical form of Lolth's worst curse, afflicted as an ultimate punishment by the Valsharess. The mind was reduced to the very basic elements of hunting and killing, with no self-awareness, no memories, no true will. A beast of pure instinct and empty thought with—the legends said—only the lingering sense that it never wanted to see what it had become. 

The lower part of the twisted form was the thorax of an enormous spider, the upper half was mostly that of the Drow she had been from the waist up, her face somewhat recognizable as an Underdark elf, except for the mandibles warping the mouth, the extra set of eyes, and the deformed hands with fingers that had fused together to form pincers. Some hair on the head remained on this one, but it was matted, unkempt, and seemed to be coming out in patches while growing in again randomly. In the dark, veins of tainted energy pulsed through the neck and also where the malformed waist met the bulbous abdomen.

When she screeched again, I shuddered at the pure hunger and rage that I heard in the sound. I didn't know how far she might follow me out of the cavern.

The chances weren't good, but might be improved with a little light...

Against every fighting instinct I had, I closed my eyes and gestured over my head. "Lucinitrel!"

The next scream almost made my ears bleed, but enough of my sight was preserved to gain some distance. Driders hunted in the dark normally so it wouldn't be long before she came after me blind and I didn't have any tools to slow her down. Maybe I'd only live if I found a small tunnel into which she couldn't fit before she caught up with me.

Jaunda and I ran headlong into each other coming around a curve and she cursed luridly as we caught our feet. I was so glad to see her even as she cuffed my ear hard.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" she bellowed, shoving me hard to the side and out of her way.

"Apparently," I quipped but she didn't have time for a reply.

My Lead already had something in her hand before she'd run into me, and I recognized the tough bottle of the alchemist's fire. She snapped the round top off and squeezed the powder inside down into the bottle as I heard the Drider skittering full speed down the tunnel toward us. Jaunda pitched it immediately and didn't have to tell me to run.

I heard the whoosh and the shriek at the same time, catching the scent of chemical fire and feeling the scalding air caress the skin of my back. The fire would burn on the rocks for some time and drain the tunnel of breathable air fast. The Drider would not have the will to approach the fire anyway, but regardless would have to retreat to its own cavern or suffocate. Though cursed by a goddess, it still breathed air like the rest of us.

I was coughing a bit more than my Lead, my lungs burning, when we'd reached a larger cavern with more air. I thought the Hunt had ended; she'd caught me, and I waited for her next move.

That move was to gesture to the right.

Jaunda signed, *Take the second right and keep moving, I'll catch up.*

I stared at her a moment and she scowled.

*NOW!*

I left, following her directions while trying to remain aware of other threats. I listened for as long as I could to the sounds behind me. Before long I couldn't hear the fire or the Drider or Jaunda. I actually didn't know whether she had gone back to see to something particular, or if she simply just didn't want the Hunt to end quite yet.

Mine was not to question why. Not right now. Not of her, not of that stone, not of that ward.

Eventually the path led me to a familiar part of the great cavern that was Drow territory; I was still up high but realized that down below was the camouflaged cave where Gaelan had taken me after capturing me at the farm. There would be softer places to recline inside.

I played with the idea of going inside and lying down to wait for Jaunda to find me. She had saved my ass and caught me, technically. The fact that she and I had collided meant she had probably heard the Drider screeching and had been close enough to run toward us.

Another thought had me thinking that Jaunda might be disappointed if I did just give up and wait for her. I was on the wrong side of the cavern for my safe point, but I could try to cut across the basin and gain a lead on her. I could conceivably still make it.

I climbed down and reached the great cavern's floor, which slowly turned from bare rock to silt to actual, useable soil warmed from beneath by the world's core. The ground was much softer on my feet and I surged forward at a forced, barely sustainable pace, for once going in a straight line toward my goal.

Jaunda had to catch up within the next mark or I would reach the only spot where she couldn't fuck me.

I didn't look back because that would slow me down, so I didn't know exactly when she emerged from the tunnels into the basin. About halfway across, however, I knew she was back there and gaining on me. I pushed myself harder, feeling my lungs and the soft flesh beneath my tongue beginning to ache as my air debt increased. Every muscle was tight and coiled, pushing and sending me forward through brush and across creeks and open fields, and still I did not hear her boots striking the earth behind me.

As I closed the gap with my safe point, I was high on adrenalin and felt as though I was flying over the ground. My ears remained my primary sense of what may be behind me but not once did I look back. I heard something whizz through the air behind me, and then the small, round stone missed my right shoulder—barely. 

I resisted the urge to go to the left. I veered right instead and heard Jaunda's single burst of laughter behind me. I thought I recognized the sound—she was pleased, and excited.

In going right I found the much easier place to leap over the next creek. Just off to the left—where Jaunda had tried to steer me—was a sharp bank that would have slowed me down. The path I'd taken was level and narrow as the water flowed by. It was rather nice when your Lead showed you where to go, if you knew her well enough.

The final push would be the most difficult, the last test. I could just make out ahead the short but hazardous climb up a slide of shale. I could scale it on four points of contact, but my feet would sink in the loose dirt and shards of flat, light stone would move beneath my hands. I judged that I had enough distance to beat my pursuer to the top if one of two things happened: I did not stumble even once, or Jaunda did.

If she failed to catch me now, I could make another arrangement with her to help my status among the Sisters. However another part of me also knew I was making such progress regardless, and I almost craved what she'd do to me if she caught me, what she'd say or what she might talk about. I knew by now that it was not a bad trade to open up my hole so that I could listen to what came out of hers.




Sufferance Ch. 12



The one thing that did keep the Hunt genuine at this point was the quality of what I might learn; it would be far less if she believed I threw the victory to her on purpose. I imagined the Drider was chasing me instead of Jaunda to help with that.

I took a running leap just before the base of the shale slide, starting my climb a couple body lengths up, and pushed hard trying to navigate the least unstable areas of the hill. The sheets of broken rock were so light they almost sounded hollow, tinkling a bit like broken glass as I disturbed them scrambling past.

I heard the second set of limbs behind me and stubbornly refused to panic, focusing on one hand and one foot in front of the other. No slips, no stumbles, I still had a chance.

The only downside was that Jaunda hadn't slipped either, and in the end her very last gambit paid off. As I stretched my left arm straight out and touched the level top of the hill, Jaunda risked a jump for that last few feet to reach me. Lolth saw fit for the ground to not collapse enough beneath her weight and she managed that tiny bit of extra distance. I felt the gloved hand snatch tight hold of my ankle and pull, my fingernails digging into the dirt and leaving small furrows as I slid backward almost on my belly.

"No!" I blurted in genuine dismay, trying to kick her off and make the top, even though the game was over. I had been so close!

My cry of denial excited Jaunda even more; I felt her hands pawing up me as she moved from ankle to calf to thigh, finally seizing my hips. Her chuckle was deep and primal as she handled me roughly, gaining her feet over me and actually heaving my body up a little farther so that my belly was pressed to the very edge of the hill where my hand had touched. Then she dropped on top of me and held me there, hooking her arm beneath my right pit and across my neck to hold my left shoulder. 

She was compressing my chest and making it hard to breathe. Fortunately only a few small pebbles were beneath me; mostly I lay belly-down in the dirt, unable to escape from beneath my captor. I became aware of the length of Jaunda's Feldeu pressed against the crack of my ass; it was beneath her leathers. She must have been wearing it during the chase, much like I had while crawling after Lana.

It didn't stay hidden for long. Parts of Jaunda's belt rubbed or poked against me as she used her free hand, jerking impatiently to free her erection. It felt incredibly hot as it pressed naked to my sweaty skin.

Jaunda groaned and panted hard, intent on penetrating me right there at the edge of the safe point. "Fuck, Sirana...you almost got away."

I felt the spongy head wedge itself at my sex and my Lead's hips surged forward, forcing herself partly inside. I grunted, wheezing a little, as she used three hard thrusts to plant herself in fully to the hilt. I was not exactly dry down there, but she hadn't so much as touched my sex before she had speared it.

I became wet with the first proper strokes however, and accepted Jaunda's rut, closing my eyes as I focused on the growing pleasure. I didn't have the breath to say anything at this time, and Jaunda could barely slur the occasional lewd insult in my ear—how slippery my slit was for her, how tight— which made the pleasure more intense for her.

I would have to say that fucking immediately after a prolonged chase like this didn't provide much air or thought for conversation.

My Lead climaxed before I did while seated in my pussy; she had left my ass alone for the time being. She withdrew, crawled up to the top to kneel in front of me, and took hold of my loose hair while pressing the fragrant tip of her Feldeu against my lips. I gave her just enough resistance to get the explicit order from her.

"Better clean me, spider-bitten slut...wrap those talented lips around my shaft."

I opened my mouth and she pressed in; I worked busily at the slick pole, finding myself smiling with my mouth full. My cunt was buzzing and I could feel the air cooling the fluid on my thighs. I hadn't peaked yet, but I could wait and make the release so much more. I stopped when she tugged on my hair.

"Alright," she sighed, and I watched her pull a small black bag from the back of her belt. I blinked up at her and she grinned. "What? You remember this part, right?"

Jaunda pulled the black bag over my head and cinched it beneath my jaw, muffling all my senses except for touch, and dragged me to my feet. Before I had gotten my bearings, I found myself lifted and hefted face down over her shoulder. 

She started carrying me and found plenty of opportunity to slap my ass with her gloved hand and tease the glazed, puffy lips of my slit with her fingers. All of it made me squirm and squeak and, as far as losing the race went, I wouldn't be holding much of a grudge.

Jaunda brought me to a second interrogation room similar to the first, except I didn't know exactly where this one was located. She had not removed the black bag until she had me bent over something waist-high, my belly barely resting on it, and my neck and wrists strapped down to a short, carved platform of stone. There were smooth depressions where my forearms and chin settled, and the restraints kept me only looking forward. At least I was held with thick leather rather than bare metal; I would have some raw spots from the straps after Jaunda's usual enthusiasm, but no open cuts. 

My hips were supported as well and that would relieve some of the strain—which could only mean she didn't want me wearing out too soon—and Jaunda decided not to shackle my ankles. My back and buttocks and legs were completely exposed to her, and my breasts hung down underneath next to the platform.

As the blunt, forceful Drow she was, Jaunda picked up a thick flog with quite a few wide lengths of leather and slapped my ass several times without ceremony. I gasped and flinched, feeling heat build in my skin.

"Sound's dampened in here, Thall," Jaunda murmured. "You can make as much noise as you want."

"I take it you want me to, Lead?"

She slapped me again and I yelped. I realized as the heat spread farther across my buttocks that neither the strike nor my cry—both of which we could hear—had had any sort of echo. It was an odd realization. Jauda thrust two fingers into my twat then and fingered me roughly; my body knew her touch well and I moaned in pleasure.

"Yes, novice. Louder. Make a lot of noise for me."

Like most of the times she'd had me—except when she'd been telling me about the Surface party and the blonde elf she'd fucked—Jaunda focused much more on pleasuring herself with my body and less on talking for the first mark or so. It was just as well...she teased me so badly that I couldn't have focused on a conversation. She alternated between strikes across my back and buttocks, playing with my breasts and twisting my nipples, and using her tongue between my legs. The latter surprised me so much that I failed any power of speech and only mewled and moaned and shrieked for her.

I felt her hands slide up the backs of my legs as she kneeled behind me, squeezing my flesh roughly, slapping, licking, biting...

"Uh, guh..." I groaned.

"You haven't tried to kick me, Thall," she said slyly. "I left your ankles free just so you could. If I didn't know better, I'd think you wanted me to ride your back portal until it gaped."

I moved my hips, tilting them up as I felt her tongue again, as I sucked in air. "Y-yes, Lead..."

"Hmm?" she hummed, her mouth still buried between my legs. Her tongue flicked and darted everywhere and I squeaked several times.

This was such a rare treat from her, I didn't understand why, but it made me ache for the rest of her, to feel her fill me. When I caught my breath I said in a rush, "I want you to ride it. Ride my ass!"

"Want it bad?"

"Yes, Lead!"

"Too bad you can't pull apart your own cheeks and show me how much you want it..."

I responded by spreading my legs a bit more and she laughed in delight. I felt her hands massage me as she stood up and settled herself between my sore, marked thighs. Her Feldeu sank straight into my sex, stroking hard for long enough that I was swiftly climbing toward a climax. I knew she wouldn't allow me to peak yet, but couldn't help trying to build it up anyway.

Jaunda pulled out before I could reach the top, of course, and realigned the slick knob at my second hole. I anticipated more teasing, a pause as she forced my rise to stall, but—

"Figure it felt like this for Jael?"

She buried her entire length in one stroke and my body jolted within the restraints. I had been relaxed already, willing to let her in, and the explosion of sensation forced a short scream from my throat. Then, just as Jaunda withdrew half way and thrust in again, I started to come. She stayed very still, her hips flush against my buttocks, as I convulsed around her and grunted in pleasure.

"Ohhhh, you like that..." she whispered hoarsely, "I can feel how much you like that... probably a lot better than Jael got, eh?"

"Yes...yes..." I gasped, struggling to answer her as the delirious coast downward left me with far fewer words present in my brain. I almost choked on my own drool as I felt her begin thrusting into my ass with force.

Oh, Goddess, yes!

I had loved fighting Gaelan; I could still top her, too, if I chose. I felt I had claimed Jael in some way, and I had thoroughly enjoyed blackmailing a reluctant Panagan. I knew I wanted to be the one in control with any male, to coax and direct their responses. I knew I was not much to D'Shea's taste as a regular bedmate, for whatever reasons. I knew Qivni had trouble controlling me or keeping me serious, and most other Sisters just didn't seem as intense, like our auras weren't meshing as well.

Yet Jaunda and Rausery each turned me into something of a squealing leather-biter when they fucked me. I could relinquish my control; some of my best orgasms were with them, and my pride did not seem to matter until later when I'd flush afterward at some of the things I'd said. It wasn't just their rank above me, I knew, but I would ponder why this was again and again.

My Lead climaxed inside my body for the second time and withdrew to step away, leaving me wet and sticky and soon chilled without the heat of her body leaning over me. I couldn't see her but could hear as, at the other side of the room, she washed herself with water.

"So, what tonic sipper were you thinking about to stumble head-on into a Drider like that, Thall?" she asked in a tone I recognized well. "Don't you know better than that by now?"

Well, at least she wanted to talk per usual, and it was on the subject I was most curious about at the moment. Leaving me bound and messed, of course, meant I had a lesson of some sort coming.

I shifted in the restraints, trying to flex muscles that were beginning to get stiff. "If you drink lots of tonics, that would be you, Lead."

She huffed a laugh and continued washing. "I like Shaltric spirits best myself."

I smirked even though she couldn't see it. "One of the worst headaches after reverie."

"Only if you're a light weight," she grunted, and from the sound of things, I would have guessed she was removing her Feldeu from her cunt the next moment.

"Granted. Some pretty odd dreams I've had under the influence of that stuff."

"Never remember mine." Jaunda started walking back over to me. When she reached me she slapped my backside. "Don't change the subject. We were talking about the Drider."

I smiled to where she could probably see it; she was barely in my periphery. "I've answered your question exactly, my Lead."

"The first one. And the second?"

 Dung. I thought for a moment. Oh, yes. "Yes, Lead, I know better than to run headlong into a Drider."

"You'd never know it. How did you get caught off guard like that?"

I paused the shortest of moments then admitted, "I was distracted by a strong ward in the same cavern. Something's protected?"

Jaunda grunted. "Should be obvious, shouldn't it?"

"You know who or what?"

I felt her gloved hand spread over the small of my back, and the next thing I knew she was leaning on it, letting me support her weight. I quickly stabilized my stance and flexed to keep my knees from buckling. By Lolth's Tits, she had a dense body.

"If I did?"

"Just looking for a yes or no, Lead."

"And what would you do with knowing only that?"

I managed a small shrug.

"Just curious," she filled in wryly. "What did you sense off that ward?"

"High warning, mostly danger."

"Did you touch it?"

"Um. Yes."

She paused. "Without your bracers?"

"Um...yes, Lead," I said again, wondering if I'd somehow compromised it?

"Huh." She patted my rump. "You always had guts, sweetcake. Just don't let it get you killed. You still have a lot of training to do."

"Yes, Lead. So...do you know what's there?"

"No. Only that it is, and you aren't supposed to know. Only the Prime, Elders and Leads. Of our order, anyway. You would figure there are some Priestesses who know, Auranka being the given."

I would have nodded if I could. My thighs were starting to tremble under the pressure Jaunda was putting on my lower back. "So...I will tell Elder D'Shea that I know."

My Lead paused for some reason. "No. Let me report that. You were under my watch, she'll hold me responsible. No point both of us getting our butts kicked."

My brows drew down. "Mm—"

"Don't make me change my mind by arguing, Thall. I'll be doing more than kicking yours for the next ten marks as it is. You'll barely be able to sit down."

I cleared my throat. She had a point. "Yes, Lead."

Her weight suddenly lifted and I nearly lost my footing. I felt her begin to release the first restraint on my right arm.

"Time for a different use for that mouth, Thall. No point in bathing you quite yet, is there?"

Not with the way she tended to drown a body during oral, no. There was absolutely no point.

******

Four weeks more found me more bored with the smaller tasks I was being given by my Elder. D'Shea wasn't telling me much of anything at the moment of her plans after the revealing conversation on the bloodstone, which was eating at me more than a bit. 

I had long noticed my Elder had the tendency to praise me quite well when I found something for her, but tended to not include me in any follow up. It was the same this time, for my largest assignment in my time with the Red Sisters thus far— uncovering so much more of Wilsirathon's plans with House Itlaun, and I still had no idea what D'Shea schemed to do next about it. If anything.

Gaelan could read me well enough and had said D'Shea was testing my patience and to not try to dig into it on my own.

*Yes, but I could still visit Shyntre at the Tower. That's my own 'secondary' project, isn't it?*

Once upon a time, I might have said that aloud. Now, knowing how she saw herself beholden to D'Shea, I didn't share as many of my thoughts or plans with her. She'd have to tell on me.

Jaunda had a point about Gaelan's will having been severely weakened by her Elder's compulsion spell. I hadn't even known my roommate before that, and I could see the disadvantage. It may be why D'Shea was keeping her closer to her lately.

There came another time in which Rausery wanted to borrow me, D'Shea granted it, and I was inwardly thrilled. If I didn't know what was going on with D'Shea's plots, then at least Rausery could give me something productive to do.

"I need an extra pair of hands to hold maps," Rausery had smirked as we left the barracks. "I'm visiting the Tower briefly and you're coming with."

I had blinked at her, but recovered quickly. "I'll carry as many as you want, Elder."

"Good. With me, novice."

Great that she still called me that. It reminded me of Jael, of course, and I'd been doing as much as I could to hear about her or watch things of interest in my more bored moments. I wasn't going to ask first, though—

"So you never did give me your thoughts on our fresh meat," the Elder said as we took one of the many hidden passageways to outside the cloister, stepping onto a rare open path the foot hills around the great cavern.

I looked around us; the City spread out before and below us, I could see the Sanctuary and Palace rising much farther away to our left, and the Tower was closer ahead and more straight on. It would take about half a mark to reach the perimeter of the Tower from here.

And we'd be visible the entire time. I hoped Rausery knew what she was doing.

"Sirana?"

"Yes, Elder. The personality I observed most of last year remains. She is a bold fighter with little fear and can tend to be impulsive."

"She's also one of the youngest we've ever taken on. Did you know what? She's almost a decade younger than you even."

"I didn't know that, Elder. May I ask why now? Why not wait until she'd matured more?"

Rausery quirked a brow at me and gave me one of the most teasing looks I remembered from her. "Maybe when you're older."

D'Shea wasn't the only one testing my patience. I focused on breathing and placing on foot in front of the other in silence.

When I was quiet for a full dozen breaths, Rausery commanded in a low voice, "Tell me about your personal experience with her."

"Elder?"

"You fucked her, right?"

I nodded, hesitated, then shook my head. "Maybe. Do you mean with a Feldeu?"

"No. I know you don't have one."

"Then yes, Elder." I could recite the basics, of course, but I got the feeling Rausery was already getting impatient. "I had her sleep next to me first. I needed a reverie after my last mission, and I wanted to see if she would be stupid enough to attack me as I rested."

Rausery grunted. "Did she?"

"Attack me, no. I believe she slept."

"Interesting. And then?"

I shrugged. "I did as I liked with her, mouth and hands, and she submitted with nominal resistance. We were interrupted by Thena—"

The Elder grinned fully there. "Mm-hm. Continue."

I started to smirk. "I won the scrap and Jael dusted her face with sleep powder."

"Did you instruct her to do that?"

"Yes, Elder."

"Then what?"

"We dumped her unconscious with your Team Five and went back to bed."

Rausery laughed out loud, and I saw something skitter into hiding out of the corner of my eye. "Pretty much what I heard from the other side. You're doing a good job making enemies on my teams."

"Perhaps you have noticed that they are only those who try to take what is mine, Elder?"

Rausery shook her head. "I'd say it is more fighting over mutual toys, novice, be it your ass or Jael's. Don't try to fool yourself. Grace varies a lot for those who lose their toys." 

She hadn't yet asked if Jael and I had talked, or what we'd talked about. D'Shea would have by now. I was actually grateful for that.

"I heard Thena hasn't managed to wax Jael again so far and she's starting to grow her fur back a little," I said.

"You'd be right. Not that Jael has a lot of time for that now that she's passed the tests."

"She has, Elder?"

"Sure. What were you doing by this time?"

"Shadowing Gaelan and Jaunda, Elder."

"Likewise, Jael is shadowing Panagan and Qivni."

I half-smiled. "May I ask if you request all experiences with a recruit, Elder Rausery?"

"An Elder's an idiot if she doesn't get a word from every Sister, Sirana. Sometimes it just takes some time. Are you satisfied with your stunt to keep her alive?"

"Yes, Elder."

"Why did you do that, anyway?"

I was pretty sure she had already heard this from D'Shea, but stayed with my story. "My orders from you were to make sure the recruit lived past the initial threat of the Duergar, Elder. Duergar remained alive but she wouldn't have lived without that potion."

Rausery nodded. "Mm-hm. I understand your justification, Sirana, and it holds up. Now forget about that and tell me why you really did it. What you say isn't going to change Jael's status or yours at this point."




Sufferance Ch. 13



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 2013

There is only one graphic, short sex scene in this chapter, and it is one of the few I do not intend to be generally erotic (no judgment on those who still may find it so, though). It is included as a different perspective for the main character, part of her growth.

And so it begins, the long rise to the cliff's edge. I hope you guys still enjoy the dialogue, there's a fair bit of it before (as a friend of mine said) we get to "blow up the Death Star."

Enjoy. :) 

*****

Elder D'Shea summoned me at an odd time and in an odd way, not long after the start of my education at the Tower. I had been grooming the gaurro—the short, sure-footed beast of burden that I had taken from the Duergar—mostly because it had been a long time since I'd seen it or thought about it and what I associated with it. 

I had been lost in my thoughts, some of which I was sure weren't mine originally but seemed to make sense in retrospect, and working on either combing or snipping out matted hairballs on the gaurro. I was the only one with which it seemed calm— without having to use some kind of will spell like Jaunda had used once to keep it still while she bend me over—and few others cared to work with the beast, either to use it, exercise it, or groom it. 

Its tension around the lizards probably meant it would die of stress before too many months or years passed, unless it could adapt. If I could have argued more value for it, perhaps I could have gotten it different quarters—although space was at a premium in the cloister and I thought they would just slaughter it instead if I made such arguments.

D'Shea had come to find me at the stables then. That was what was odd. I sensed another presence, turned my head, and there she was standing at the wide doorway, dressed in her reds, with a hand resting on her hip. Usually I either heard a message in my ear, or found Gaelan, Jaunda, or any other Sister tapping my shoulder to send me to D'Shea's quarters—where sometimes, if she wasn't there, I would stand and wait whole marks on a candle for her to arrive.

This was different enough to cause a sort of tension in my stomach not unlike the gaurro's, surrounded by creatures under which it might normally be prey.

"Elder D'Shea," I acknowledged first, setting down my shears and bowing, standing at attention.

My Elder didn't respond but chin-nodded toward the guarro. "You can still ride that?"

I glanced at it. "My legs are a little long, but yes, Elder."

"Do. I'll mount up as well." She reached for a bridle. "We'll ride out a while. I'd like to talk to you."

My first thought, truthfully, was that she was taking me out there to kill me, which sent to me wondering what I'd done? Or rather, which *particular* thing I'd done that had finally broken her tolerance. It was not a common practice for us to go on pleasure rides.

"Yes, Elder." I moved to get the unique tack that belonged only to the Duergar's beast and started putting it on.

I wondered if I would fight her should the time come for her to attack? How would she choose to do it? I knew what mostly likely happened if I lost. What would I do if I somehow won? I couldn't fathom...

"We are just talking, Sirana, put those thoughts out of your mind, if you please. I'll not have any misunderstandings leading to stupid choices. You'll return alive if you don't act on one."

"Um. Yes, Elder."

I didn't ask how she knew; I could have telegraphed it physically, she could have used her arcane talents to read it at the fore of my mind, or she could just know how my mind worked. Any were plausible and it did not matter how. In some way, I'd wanted her to read that worry. There were prices to pay for keeping secrets, and she was not exempt.

I didn't like riding the gaurro so near D'Shea's lizard; the two were even more aware of each other than she and I. It wasn't the most comfortable ride, either; I had to curl my legs up and lie more long-ways along its back to distribute my weight and have better balance. It exposed my back and hampered my response time. Perhaps that was why D'Shea had insisted on the dwarf's mount. 

I'd say it looked silly, but I also knew that I was a comparatively light burden for it compared to the compact dwarf that had been its master before. I guided the beast to demonstrate for D'Shea a bit of what it could do. True, it could not climb walls or reach high tunnels like the lizard, but it was much quicker and more nimble than the reptile over rocky, rough terrain. D'Shea's mount could only slither up, over or around the boulders. 

The gaurro could spring and jump, probably even higher if it weren't carrying me. Plenty of times I moved ahead and stopped to wait for D'Shea. Truthfully, if we could breed or create a taller version of the gaurro, I'd rather have that as a mount than the lizard.

Eventually we reached an area outside the sentry point on the edge of the wilderness, where darkness was near complete and bubble of silence but for the throb of the earth almost seemed louder than the bustle of the City. We kept going until we reached a source of running water, which at least provided more sound and a way to muffle voices and steps. We let our mounts drink—the gaurro much more than the lizard—and I hobbled mine farther away before returning to D'Shea's side.

My eyes had adjusted to the ever-present waves of energy and I could still make out D'Shea's form separate from the water-carved stone around us. I watched her pat her mount's scaled shoulder and lean against it in thought; it accepted her weight and didn't move much. Her energy at the middle of her chest was brighter, as if she was tense; mine was likely the same to her eyes.

*Jaunda reported some time ago that you had found a ward on your Hunt with her,* D'Shea signed.

She waited this long to ask me about it? That had been weeks ago; it had never been mentioned. I had assumed Jaunda had faced the consequences for that one after I suffered quite a long walk back to the cloister as one big bruise, before I could obtain any healing draughts.

*True, Elder,* I signed back slowly.

*Could you judge its power without your bracers?*

I paused slightly. *Yes, I could feel its power very clearly.*

*She reported that you touched it without your bracers.*

I grimaced. *For two moments, Elder. I sprinted away when it grew too much to bear.*

D'Shea nodded. *Why touch it at all?*

I shrugged. *I wanted to test myself, Elder.*

She smiled just slightly. *The Drider. Did you sense that?*

*No, Elder. I heard it.*

*Fortunate for you. It prefers an ambush attack first, did you know that?*

*I deduced that when it screamed as soon as I detected it, Elder.*

*Its second response, to make you stand still a bit longer.*

*I understand, Elder.*

*And did you?*

I shook my head. *I ran and Called Light. Fortunately it did not loose webs at me.*

She shook her head. *A common gossip that I will dispel now. Its webs are not a ranged weapon. It has the same use as a true spider, to set a trap and to bind its prey only after it has caught it.*

I frowned. *Then why did it not block the cave openings with a web trap, Elder?*

D'Shea shook her head. *The only possibility is Auranka forbid it when she placed it there. Otherwise you would have encountered a web either entering or exiting.*

*It would seem that would encourage more creatures to stumble into the Drider's lair, Elder, as I did.*

*The Drider must eat. Or would you describe the entrances as shrinking too small for it to leave the area?"

*No, Elder. Not for a while.*

She actually continued her thought. *Another reason could be that the place is visited often enough that a web trap would be inconvenient.*

I watched her face. *'Could be'? Do you not know what is being guarded, Elder?*

She smirked and did not answer that. *Come with me.*

We left our mounts and she led me up a short climb, through a tunnel that split in two directions. She chose the right, and we eventually squeezed through a very thin crease—my weapons almost got hung up in it—to enter a tiny, dead-end cave with trace amounts of luminous lichen that would help to read facial expressions in the dark.

Upon entering, I also sensed more than one ward, and after another moment, separated out four distinct threads of magical guardianship: two to the right, one to the left, and one on the ceiling.

D'Shea tapped my shoulder to get me to look at her. *Remove your bracers and give them to me.*

I hoped that I knew what my Elder intended, and removed the magical tools efficiently, handing them over. She stepped over to a pockmark in the wall, placed the bracers in the small recess, and covered it with a stone large enough to put my tool out of view and easy reach.

*You've guessed it, I believe, so we will simply start,* D'Shea signed. *I want to see where you are. Show me the weakest ward.*

That was not too difficult, although their proximity to each other did make it harder than if they had been spaced farther apart. I walked the perimeter of the cave—a feat that took about as long as it took me to chew and swallow three bites of rations—and settled on one of the two on the right side. It had been placed on a stone near my foot, like the quartz-streaked one back at the Drider lair, which was blocking a hole only wide enough for my fist. The other, slightly stronger ward was an actual small shelf and the ward had been placed on a well-polished pebble sitting placidly in full view. I indicated the stone at my feet.

*Correct. Now break the weakest one. Claim what is inside.*

I kneeled down and used the same techniques I had already been using for well over a year: the controlled breathing, the stillness of mind and focus of perception, the symbolic dip into one's own will. The difference here, however, was that the runes weren't present and glowing to tap with a gesture, to focus my will that way. The bracers also detected for me which runes were needed.

Without the bracers, I had to decide on my own runes, and I had to visualize them strongly enough to shield my mind from the tricks of the magic. Then I would be able to break the ward and pass through it.

The weakest was a two-rune puzzle; I had felt it before, plenty of times, to seal boxes, chests, and desks in various places. It was only powerful enough to deter those who had no knowledge of how our wards worked—non-Drow races, children, those particularly ungifted or inexperienced in magic—but any Drow who had ever placed a ward before would probably figure this one out, given enough time.

I broke it in a handful of moments with only slight discomfort, barely more than I experienced with the bracers. I moved the stone carefully, lifting it away from my face, and looked in only when nothing leaped out. I saw a shallow burrow that ended half-an-arm's length down, two insects, some soil—which was odd here—and a polished pebble similar to the second warded one that I had seen on the shelf.

I didn't reach for the pebble because the soil shouldn't have been there. As I watched the crawling insects move over the polished stone, their energy became clearer to me. Poisonous pinchers on these multi-legged worms.

I wondered if that had been intentional on D'Shea's part? Had she known all along?

I withdrew a dagger and used the pointed length to carefully flick the pebble out from around the insects and set the rock back down on top of them. I picked up the pebble and brought it over to D'Shea.

She smiled and accepted. *I am most glad you did not fall for the most rudimentary of traps, Sirana. Why did you not kill the insects?*

I smiled back. *Were that set in an actual place, I would disturb the place little as possible to disguise the theft, Elder. Or alternatively, it might give me the opportunity to use it later.*

She nodded acceptance of my reasoning, giving me no other indication of her thoughts. *Now retrieve the second pebble.*

This was a three-rune ward and harder to manage. I studied the area first to look for anything beyond the ward itself. There was no trap I could detect, which made me wonder if I was missing something. Eventually, however, I had to focus on the ward itself.

Only after the initial discomfort did I realize what was different with this ward—it had a dual-effect. If the pain didn't deter the intruder, then the sudden pleasure certainly worked to distract. 

Such calm and bliss...I wanted to step back and sit down...lie down. I wanted to enjoy it for as long as possible...

I had been trained with this ward, too. If ever a thief would be caught in the act, it would be when they didn't have the will to leave.

Without my bracers, I had to withdraw with a physical push backward away from the wall and without the pebble, to get my bearings. Gasping, I reconsidered the tactic I needed; more speed after the initial pain, less caution. But I would have less time to react to any secondary trap there might yet be.

I visualized the first trio of runes again, breaking the pain threshold and then quickly rearranging the runes in my head to deal with the second wave of the ward. I quickly plucked up the pebble and moved back quickly, trying to watch the shelf and the pebble at once, to see what might happen.

I felt a blade pressing into my back and I stopped. The blade was digging into my armor but hadn't pierced it. 

Of course, I hadn't kept yet a third eye on what was behind me.

"You set off the alarm by withdrawing and trying again," D'Shea murmured quietly near my ear. "You did defeat the ward without your bracers as I commanded, but don't consider this theft a success. You already have a blade jammed into your back. You're dead."

"Yes, Elder."

She withdrew her dagger and said, "Drop the pebble."

I did, and this one remained on the ground.

"Now the third, Sirana. Penetrate it, break it, however you can manage it."

The third was on the left, and had been placed on a bowl shape, water-worn within the rock. Resting at the bottom of the natural vessel was a dark red gem in its raw state, unpolished with bits of other solid sediment still fused to it. It had been withdrawn whole from the stone with a pickaxe, yet with neither a chip nor a scratch on it. Impressive. I could even visualize how it was done though I'd never done it myself.

As I expected, this ward required four runes to reach that gem. I took much more time contemplating it, to try and discover the runes needed, and their combination to coax the ward to open for me. This was something no Drow believed was even possible for any not trained in the arcane or the divine magics—no Drow except for the Red Sisters.

I had been given the basic techniques, had practiced them over and over—first with the help of the bracers to prove it could be done, but now without that crutch. I was to find the hints of the runes that every ward called out like a song. It was the key to both its protective power and its dispelling, but it was hidden amidst the noise of the glamour and whatever the magic was supposed to make one believe was real.

Through experience I learned how those basic techniques became complex with each more powerful ward, and the basics had become automatic. This was neither a spell nor a magical ability I had, but simply learning how to listen to what my body and mind was telling me under duress. The stress was the key.

Every Red Sister was trained intensely to know and grow to understand her own physical and mental responses—under torture and pleasure, through strain and calm, within weakness and amidst the flush of adrenalin-fueled victory. Intimate self-knowledge of one's body was an indirect way to overcome magic that affected the mind, like launching an attack that ricocheted off the wall and came from another angle. It was one of many things at which the Red Sisters excelled.

I was working out the code hidden within the ward's magical song—feeling strongly the magical persuasion that I should fear it, that if I took the gem I should immediately face intolerable pain, that I might possibly die—when a drop of blood landed on my glove. I was vaguely aware that my nose had begun to bleed and my jaw was clenched so tightly that my teeth hurt. A short time later, the combination fell into place and I touched the bottom of the bowl and the gem.

I lifted it up and stepped back, still trembling from the effects of the powerful ward. I nearly tripped as I brought it to D'Shea, caught myself before dropping the raw gem into her gloved palm.

My Elder stared at me for several moments, expressionless, then brought out a cloth from her belt to hand to me. I accepted, wiping and dabbing at my nose without inhaling. Though she'd whispered to me with the blade at my back, she went back to signing in silence now.

*You are progressing faster than most, Sirana,* she said. *I did not expect you to be able to break that one. Not yet.*

I held the cloth to my nose, pinching it to slow the blood. I did not know what to say, so simply acknowledged her with a nod and a single-hand gesture, *Elder.*

She did not seem to see me as she was in deep thought for a few moments. Her hands moved slowly. *Do you wish to try the fourth ward?*

I considered it, but I also knew I was near the limit of my endurance after that last one. Each ward had taken its own amount of my strength from me to overcome it, physically and mentally. It would take time to recover.

*I would, but need rest,* I signed with one hand. *Nosebleed is a warning I am taxed.*

*Would you leave it if you were on a mission?* she asked.

The flow slowed enough that I could sign with both hands. *If the alternative was to pass out in hostile territory, yes. I would rather come back later.*

*And if there would be no chance to come back later?* she pressed.

*That is fear-thinking, Elder,* I answered stoutly. *One makes more mistakes using that justification. If there was no chance then, better to remain alive to try something else later. Much later, if need be. What good am I to the Red Sisters being captured unconscious because I did not understand my body's limits? What if the risk was capture by Drow enemies like the Illithids or Duergar?*

D'Shea listened, but smiled. *A different argument than you used to justify saving Jael. That was fear of failing your mission.*

*I was not in danger of losing consciousness or of immediate capture at the time, Elder,* I responded. *The choice here is hypothetical. You always expect me to adapt to the situation and use my strengths.*

*I have not been disappointed, but I will have an answer other than retreat, Sirana.*

I sighed and gave it half a thought. *Provided I had it, I would take the most powerful healing draught in my possession and try again to break the ward.*

*Except there is no physical healing to be made,* she countered. *The pain is not doing actual damage.*

*It would still help the mind recover more quickly and increase contrast between the ward song and the strain placed on a newly strengthened body, perhaps enough to try again.*

She thought a moment and nodded. *Good enough for where you are.*

*Do you wish me to act on it now, Elder?*

She shook her head. *The rule is to use it only in dire need. We are not in dire need, we are training. We will wait a while.*

My sorcerous Elder took to leaning casually against the cave wall while I opted to actually take a seat at the only place where enough rock jutted out to provide it. We rested in near-darkness without conversation, only a couple of paces from each other. 




Sufferance Ch. 13



I listened to my heartbeat, elevated and pounding harder than usual. My depth perception, such as it was when making out nothing but waves of energy in the shapes around me, played tricks on my mind a couple of times as the cave seemed to shrink or expand. I attributed it to my headache and the strength of the ward still humming right above our heads.

Eventually, as I expected, D'Shea made a motion to catch my eye and gestured, *Would you willingly return to the Sanctuary?*

*If you command it, Elder. I have no fear of the place.*

*And the Priestess?*

*Those showing signs of desperation are not intimidating, Elder.*

Her energy showed her irritation before her face did. *Do not tell me you would underestimate her even now when you know better. I know you were desperate to accept the wizard's help on your mission.*

*My apologies, Elder, you are correct. It was meant as a show of confidence. I do not respect her much if her Draegloth is somehow pulling her strings. Respecting her and respecting her resources are two different things.*

D'Shea nodded in satisfaction.

*Phaelous sends his regards once again, Elder,* I added.

She paused at the sharp turn in conversation. Much as she had done to me many times in the past, this was not completely unrelated, and her instincts were telling her this as she stared at me, her energy showing another spike. *Thank you.*

When that was all she said, I signed, *I noticed Shyntre favors him, Elder.*

She let out her breath slowly. *Nudging your toe closer to the sleeping wyrm, are you, novice?*

*I have changed my mind, Elder.*

She didn't quite follow me. *Changed your mind?*

*About the mage. He is interesting to me beyond my original intentions. I think he is more valuable as a resource rather than the strict entertainment I'd imagined. I believe now it would hamper my success to try to break him.*

D'Shea stared at me. *You are not teasing.*

*I do not tease you, Elder. Do you not know him very well, then, for this to sound so surprising?*

Now I could see her glare clearly. *I do not appreciate your hints, Sirana. With whom have you been talking about me?*

*Elder Rausery,* I answered. *I did not realize it until she spoke more freely. Until then I had been talking about the wizard's link to us, which I learned through the Priestess.*

D'Shea tried to banish some of the tension which had accumulated in her shoulders. It was with effort she did so, and her hand movements were stiff nonetheless. *Inevitable that you would learn that.*

She signed nothing more. I left it for a while, pondering that she had certainly had a more personal reason to try to deny Wilsirathon meeting me for that first full year. Ultimately, though, the Priestess had gotten her way.

It took a while to outwait my Elder.

*Rausery thinks I am not training you fast enough,* D'Shea signed.

I made no comment and waited for the follow-up thought.

*Jaunda thinks I've hobbled Gaelan.*

Both of these things I was present to hear before; I had to assume D'Shea was only reminding me of it.

*What would you say on either? Do you agree with them?*

Actually...yes, I did. But that was without knowing any of D'Shea's reasoning. I decided to say as much. 

*I have little information with which to decide. The little I have support those claims, yes, but I do not know your reasons. Recently, with Shyntre, I have found that information and experience can change the initial perception a great deal.*

I could sense a little of her tension ease at my response. A good thing. Now I only had to wait again.

*I need a Sister to return to the Sanctuary,* she signed after another long pause. *You are not the most skilled Sister, but you are the one I could trust most with the mission and the only one with any advantage against Wilsirathon. Unfortunately, you are also the most vulnerable and would also be the one to have the most to lose, besides me.*

My Elder had my full attention, but I could assume that she was not content with her options and something was making her hesitate debriefing me fully.

*Can it wait, Elder?* I signed, nudging her subtly.

She signed, *Not much longer.*

*Then it seems to me you must decide now whether to tell me everything or nothing at all, Elder.*

She smirked at me. *Bold words. Have you anything you wish to tell me first?*

I nodded. *I am chafing for another challenge, Elder. I am becoming bored.*

*Certainly that is a quality Rausery knows how to exploit well.*

*It works, Elder,* I signed plainly.

*A disadvantage of your age. Another reason perhaps I should not send you.*

I was careful not to move my hands as I let the initial feeling of resentment pass. Only then did I say, *Wilsira commented on my age many times. I surprised her. And I brought you something to which you could bear witness, and she does not know about it.*

D'Shea inclined her head once. *Granted, and I am not discounting that. Your instincts and intelligence are good. Except for becoming so easily restless and having no interest in studying the arcane, you are much as I had been.*

Meanwhile, her exceptions were qualities that I admired in Jael, Jaunda, and Rausery; it made them fast-acting and bold.

*You have considered Gaelan, perhaps?* I offered, although not truthfully. *She is more patient and has interest in the arcane.*

D'Shea shook her head. *She does not have your will or your creativity. That is what she admires in you, and would like to become. I need both those qualities, but I also need caution and more magical ability than you have.*

*How much magical ability?*

*Such a thing is hard to quantify, Sirana.*

*Would Tarra have it, Elder? Would she support me on your behalf?*

D'Shea tilted her head. *Lelinahdara?*

I nodded. *Tarra. Arcane and divine. Your ally, Elder. She has been inside my head a number of times, yet Wilsira proved to know little of me. It would seem you can trust her.*

*Asking her to move directly against her Priesthood may change that.* Her gestures were brisk.

*No, asking her to outmaneuver Wilsira, Elder. Priestesses do this regularly, even I know that. It would be to her advantage were Wilsira to fall, would it not?*

I found it odd that D'Shea, of all Drow, would hesitate on something like this.

*How did she become your ally, Elder?* I asked.

*That is not your concern. Are you well enough to attempt the fourth ward?*

*No, Elder.*

*You are flittering with your hands enough to imply it.*

*My apologies, Elder. I wanted to offer ideas since you seem stuck.*

I heard a soft snort in the close chamber and she shook her head. After a quiet moment, she surprised me by signing with one hand, *I dislike being stuck.*

She would admit that to me? I wanted to wait again rather than push her, but this time she outwaited me.

*I am yours, Elder, though others would try to cast doubt on my value to you. You have favored me. Why?*

*I have answered that before.*

*I am like you,* I supplied.

*You can keep up with me,* she corrected impatiently. *Rausery likes to think I am holding you back, but in reality it is the Prime. She wants to know how you killed Juarinia, and Lelinahdara did not even glean that from your mind in the trial. As long as you keep that secret, the Prime does not trust your advancement to be too quick. She believes you hold on to your past.*

I stared at her, genuinely surprised. Was that all? *You never asked me, Elder.*

*Rausery and Jaunda did. You denied killing her.*

*That is because I did not.*

D'Shea breathed out and signed deliberately, *Very well. How did the Firstborn of House Thalluen die, Sirana?*

I was quiet as I considered. The satisfaction I'd felt back then at accomplishing my hope, my sole goal then, seemed much milder now by comparison to what I'd accomplished as a Red Sister.

*It was an accident.*

*There are many 'accidents,' Sirana.*

I shrugged. *Of course. We had been quarrelling, Juarinia and I. This was frequent. Often she would force her current desire on me during or soon after a quarrel—whether that desire was a beating, my participation in another ritual, or other humiliations.*

D'Shea likely knew something of this nature already, but she did not interrupt me.

*During the cycle she died, I had escaped her room and she pursued me. There were no servants in the stables when I entered, there were no witnesses, it was her and me.* I paused as I brought the memory further forward in my mind; it had been well over a year since the last time I had reveled in it. *In the past, I had climbed up a ladder to the loft, and she had trapped me there. I had done it twice more with the same result.*

My Elder's eyes seem to sharpen and glint in the darkness as she interjected. *You do not strike me as a youth who would make the same mistake three times, Sirana.*

I smiled. *The second and third times were not mistakes, Elder. My sister was a creature of habit, and the third time I only did not have the distance I needed.*

She nodded, motioning I continue.

*The fourth time I had it, enough distance to start climbing and make the noise, but also to jump off and roll behind a large crock. Juarinia assumed I had made it to the top and had hidden up there, like before. She climbed up, and as she taunted and searched for me in the loft, I knocked over the ladder.*

*How far was the drop?*

*Not far enough to kill, but certainly would injure limbs.*

D'Shea had the air of being confused—because Juarinia had died of a fall—but said nothing.

*She cursed at me, and I left her in the stables and returned to the manor.*

There was another pause, and D'Shea signed sarcastically, *You left out the death in the story, Sirana.*

I smiled. *I imagine Juarinia may have discovered a pincer-worm when she lifted the coil of rope that we stored in the loft. You know, in case the ladder fell.*

D'Shea looked surprised and glanced at the rock that had been the first ward. I was sure now that she hadn't known to have chosen those creatures for this test. I felt pleased; she was far-seeing and secretive and intelligent...but she didn't know everything.

I explained. *I had a small one I had collected as a pet and kept in the stables, solely because she had such a strong aversion to them. Juarinia made noise every time she saw one, no matter how small. I liked to give her glimpses of them now and then, but she never knew of the pet. I suppose that time, it might have escaped its cage.*

*The Matron allowed an inspection. There were no insect bites on her daughter's body.*

*Then she was lucky. Not so lucky in how she landed on the stable floor, however.*

*The report was accurate, then? She died of a fall. All any heard were screams while all members of her family, including you, were inside the House.*

I nodded. *I did not touch her.*

*How long was the pincer-worm?*

*By the time she died?* I showed her by spacing out my index fingers to about the length of my hand, much larger than the two tiny ones now in soil beneath the first ward.

*Just large enough for its venom to be lethal. Did you know that?*

*No, but I had hoped so, Elder.*

*But you let Lolth's Hand take it from there.*

*I had decided could work with what She gave me, even if it was just a large scare. She proved more generous than that. If I prayed, it was always for Juarinia's death, Elder.*

*Indeed.*

D'Shea went still after that. Perhaps she was reflecting that even if there had been pincer marks visible—for those worms were known to attack repeatedly when subjected to loud noise—it could still have been a simple case of stupidity: Juarinia stumbling onto a sensitive, poisonous creature and screaming, startling it. It would have been an unfortunate accident she had called on herself, and I never would have claimed the pet at all. The cage would disappear soon after.

The simplicity of that plan, however, had never needed to be tested, because the worm hadn't managed one strike. Juarinia had simply broken her own neck, and it had crawled off to freedom.

I motioned to catch my Elder's attention, and when she looked at my hands, I added, *Will this help your plans, Elder?*

She gestured an affirmative. *The Prime will be satisfied.*

*Will you tell me more of your mission at the Sanctuary?*

*I am still not sure I will send you.*

*Who else would you send, Elder? Who else is more motivated than me to see Wilsira fall? From whom have you taken injury, even, in order to train her?*

Her eyes were piercing again as I reminded her of the fact that I had, indeed, raped her several times—I saw the injuries after, I just didn't remember the details. Why would she ever have tolerated what I'd done to her if she didn't think she could use it?

*Regardless of what Rausery says, you are training me,* I continued. *Just in ways she can't see. She is, however, giving me gifts and added training. She made Shyntre an instructor at the Tower, gave him an emerald replacement for his sapphire pendant, at least in order to start teaching me the Surface common language.*

D'Shea's expression was stony. *When was this?*

*Almost a week ago, Elder. You have been busy and did not seek me out after Rausery released me. Jaunda implied you were somewhere dangerous and I did not want to use a message pellet in case it distracted you at the wrong time, even if you were within range.*

*I was not, I would not have heard it,* she replied, and almost looked tired for a moment. 

Then she stared down in deeper thought. I was not sure what I expected for my information and revelation, but maybe at least some irritation or anger at not telling her sooner?

*The sapphire pendant,* she signed. *I believe I may understand part of what it is now, and...this may help you more than any other Sister. We know it responds to you.* 

I was excited to hear that. *What does it do?*

*It absorbs metaphysical energy, in a general and unfocused sense, and at a slow rate. But it may be tapped. I have a few ideas how that may be used.* She paused further. *I will give it more thought whether to send you.*

*What are you afraid of, Elder, that you will not make a decision?*

Now she looked angry.

*The water worms are surrounding your boat,* I signed plainly, *and Rausery isn't watching as close at the moment.*

The metaphor was not foreign to D'Shea, I could tell. Her anger withdrew but her face tightened in...worry? *There is something I cannot see. Some connection I am missing. Otherwise I would act now.*

*Concerning what, Elder?*

*Not what, but who. Jael.*

I let my surprise and interest show on my face. *Truly? She is so young.*

*And a fourth daughter. Yet someone at the Sanctuary tormented her with Draegloth as a child.*

*You do not know who?*

*On the contrary, I fear that I might.*

My mind leaped to the higher levels with that one; someone high enough to make D'Shea wary. *The High Priestess?* 

I added a gesture showing I couldn't recall the current name; I thought it had changed recently.

*Rushenthanon,* D'Shea supplied for me, but shook her head. *No, I do not suspect her.*

I felt a tiny prick of cold in the center of my chest at my second thought. *...the Valsharess?*

D'Shea looked at me sharply, then exhaled when she realized there was no way to backtrack on that one. *Possibly. If you murmur anything of that sort ever again, however, you will likely find both yourself and Jael in a very difficult spot.*

I nodded quickly. *I understand, Elder.*

Pondering a possible connection between the Valsharess and House Aurenthin, however, kept us quiet for a long time. No coup. No execution. No political advantage. A haunted daughter of no potential or political consequence. But an old family line; just recently I had been admiring the classical beauty in Jael's face.

*A very old grudge?* I signed.

D'Shea nodded. *My thought as well. The worst possible kind to get caught in. The older the grudge, the farther the reach of the web.*

I considered that. *Can the Valsharess control the sons of other Priestesses?*

*Unknown for certain, but she is the most powerful Priestess we have, Sirana.*

I nodded. *Then assuming the possibility that she can, I could guess her actions were preventative as much as vengeful.*

D'Shea looked interested. *How so?*

*Jael told me the harassment stopped as soon as she matured for breeding, and that no one at her House likes the half-breeds but also never talk about why. I had the thought perhaps others in her family have suffered the same as her. What was the end result for her? She went into the military and hates the Court and everything to do with the Palace or the Sanctuary. Can you tell me if there has been a Priestess from House Aurenthin in the last century or more?*

D'Shea blinked and her eyes lit up; she almost looked excited. *No, there has not. None during my lifetime, Sirana. You struck on it, I think. So simple, I missed it. The Valsharess does not want a Priestess from that House. Aurenthin is being blocked and will never ascend again.*

I smiled, feeling warm at her approval. *Also implying Jael perhaps had the potential for divine magic and may have become a Priestess in another life?*

*Or has the potential still. We will have to watch her.*

*Is it possible Rausery knows or suspects this as well? When I asked her why we took her so young, she said, 'Maybe when you're older.'*

D'Shea gave it some serious thought but ultimately shook her head. *Rausery's argument at the time we made the decision had been that Jael was alienating herself even within the army, and that she had made one enemy who would likely try to kill her for the next petty insult. 

*Truthfully, once that happens, we have often taken a recruit to test her then. If she is likely to die soon and no one would miss her, she is ripe for our purposes. If she succeeds, we move forward; if she fails, we forget about her as well. 

*In her speech, Rausery felt straightforward as always, Sirana, and I have never known her to be that indirect. I do not believe she would look to gain a recruit early simply because that one may have had divine influence. I do not believe that she cares much for religion. What she said to you was likely just a tease.*

I had to nod in agreement. It did seem very unlike Rausery to pad her ranks with possible rejects from the Valsharess. However, it made Jael more intriguing to me. What had happened so long ago for a House to be cursed to a slow, quiet decline by the Queen? Why like that?

I gave D'Shea more time to think after this. Having made some kind of final link for her, I wondered if she would finally decide on her action, here and now, in this private cave?

I felt something...powerful...when she did.

*I will send you, Sirana. Your age and your previous assignment there may provide me with plausible deniability, but you will have to use your every instinct to see far enough ahead and avoid falling into the many deep chasms inside that place.*

*****

At last she could admit it.

She could actually say it, but only inside my head. 

D'Shea cradled us both in an arcane spell which provided telepathic communication as it had in the Illithid battle because...well, I was guessing that she would not risk even silent hand signs with this information. 

I held the sapphire pendant in my bare hand, at her insistence. She had had it in her possession and said it might bolster my mental stability and endurance, among other things. I was wary about what those "other things" were, but desired the debriefing too much to refuse clasping the gem. It had not caused any difficulties yet—not for me.

My Elder had also said the trance would take time, like Wilsira's trance with Curgia. She held me from behind in a similar fashion as well, but we were both sitting on the floor of the private, warded cave, rather than me in her lap.




Sufferance Ch. 13



As D'Shea strengthened her spell and my sight faded as the energy became much higher, I was vaguely aware of the deep blue stone starting to glow and become hot in my palm. After a time, it felt as though the magic had somehow...changed.

The undersong of the spell altered its pitch and I felt a rough shift inside my head, a disharmony as the essence of the spell was transformed. I had cried out softly, I thought, but D'Shea shushed me.

"Shh, do not panic. You know how it should feel. Tell me if we've got it right."

The power felt...tasted...psionic, somehow. Like Kain, coming from inside. And I wasn't even wearing the Feldeu.

Her voice was also not at my ear; it was inside it, in my head, clear as a speaking voice. The voice held pure thought, the way the Duergar and that unknown voice had, though D'Shea herself forced her thoughts through a sieve of words, to define them because she was not familiar with this type of sharing.

Truthfully, neither was I. I was only beginning to learn.

I thought an affirmative, and she attached the equivalent words to it: "Yes, it feels right."

"Good. Now let us try something..."

The magic lurched painfully against some block inside us—inside her—as she tried to speak again. Now even she must've moaned aloud. I hadn't known the block was there until she touched it; she had tried to tell me something, and it had hurt both of us.

"Help..." She didn't know what to do against the block, that woven membrane separating some part of her from the rest.

"Relax," I whispered. I remembered the way Lana's presence had flowed into me before, the sudden bond that was like water rushing in to fill an empty vessel, when we were one and the same. "Let me inside..."

This was very difficult for her to do, but when I sensed a thin spot in the block, I started pushing against it, until I was...well, flowing through it. The membrane was not designed to repel psionics as it did magic, and though it did not break entirely—whatever power had placed it there remained—it was enough.

For the first time, I ended up on the other side when someone else's defenses had faltered, not the other way around. D'Shea's deepest thoughts... I was surprised to find something beyond drive, ambition, and the desire for power.

I found regret, pain, helplessness, anger...a private dungeon of solitude that had been there for a marked time, though not the whole of her life.

"Yes, Shyntre is my son," she said. "He was supposed to have been my daughter. The Priestesses changed that and Wilsira was the spearhead of the plot. She is the last remaining one involved who draws breath."

I felt the elation that she felt then: she had been able to say it! She was astonished that it had worked, that she had finally formed those words somehow, in some form. She could not speak them, sign them, write them, or message them...but...

"I have only now found this way to speak, to tell you through the psionic gift you acquired. Somehow the nature of it...bypasses the divine compulsion."

"Go on, Elder," I coaxed, feeling both her excitement and when she focused again.

"You remember, I told you they can select for the sex as they breed the Consorts."

"But... you had already conceived by Phaelous, hadn't you?"

"Yes."

"How is that possible, then? They could not simply weigh the seed in favor of a male at that point."

"It took an old and dangerous ritual to accomplish it, and I was not aware of her intent when I arrived at the Sanctuary. When I understood she meant my unborn ill, I was not willing to undergo any ritual, Sirana. It was forced early in my pregnancy. When Wilsira succeeded, I could not speak of it while she lived."

The mental images were frightening—my own imaginings based on my experiences on the altar, not hers. Oddly, she did not seem to have clear, specific memories of the ritual or even where she'd been; there were only flashes of pain and the sure knowledge that it had taken place.

"How did you know what the sex was supposed to be?"

I felt the mental equivalent of a steadying breath. "I must back up. I was a high-ranking Lead, Sirana, not an Elder yet. My...attraction to Phaelous was surprising, to say the least, and the conception unintentional. But we performed a divination spell before my Elder found out and told the Prime. I had to know so I could start planning. Our vision saw a daughter."

"And Wilsira? Why would she attempt such a thing?"

"She heard of the Valsharess granting the Prime first claim on my child, should the vision prove accurate and it was female. This was a first; the Sisterhood would keep one of their own daughters. She simply did not want the Sisterhood to gain the female offspring of two powerful mages. The full power of the compulsion she placed on me was that not only could I not speak of the ritual or accuse Wilsira, but I also could not deny it if someone suggested the vision was inaccurate, as that is not unheard of."

Which meant, to me, that it still could have been inaccurate the entire time. I shuddered regardless. I felt her frustration and her rage, her inability to act against the one who'd taken much from her. So familiar; I had been in her place before.

She continued. "As well...I cannot be near the boy without feeling ill as well. Wilsira did everything she could to claim my child and get away with it. The only action I can take against her is through others."

Her vehemence, which I felt through the mental bond, suggested neither affection nor possessiveness for that lost child, but sharp awareness of the loss: the chance to feel either, to know anything about him through interaction, to gain any insight or build any loyalty. It felt as if he had been standing on the other side of an unbridgeable chasm from her for the entirety of his life.

He was aware of it as well, but didn't know the true reason why. He blamed her, and she had to accept that blame because she could not deny it.

"You feel...ill?" I asked.

"I have rarely been in the same room with him since he was born. I feel nausea that makes my knees weak, fever, fading vision, the constant threat of unconsciousness when he is in proximity."

This stunned me. It explained what Rausery had said..."she doesn't want him, never did." The blunt Elder would assume that D'Shea's actions—abruptly leaving the room when Shyntre entered, avoiding him at all costs, never speaking to him—were those of a resentful mother who was extremely bitter not to have been given the daughter her vision promised.

D'Shea could not say otherwise until Wilsirathon was dead. It had been two hundred years.

"Shyntre has given me some pride with his choices, though he does not know it. I see the irony that most choices were likely made only to spite me. But he sees Wilsira for what she is and chose the Sisterhood over her in the end. He appealed persistently to gain our attention from the Sanctuary and from the Tower. 

"Eventually, Rausery wanted to create a trial of some kind for him, to test him. I think it was more for entertainment, but also given that he was so stubborn and had no solid anchor in any one spot, she considered him similar to some of our recruits. 

"'Perhaps he could be more use to us than them,' she said.. Rausery had to admit he held up better than she expected, and he engaged her further by showing interest in the Surface and finding a little more information in the Tower libraries about it than she knew. 

"He also gained some further favor from the Prime the last time he faced the Valsharess. He had bourn witness to an assassination in the Sanctuary—one of the Priestesses who helped Wilsira during my pregnancy, and yes, I was behind it—and he made a favorable account of the Sisterhood over the Priesthood. He had lied about at least one small thing to make it so.

"Through all this, I could not agree to help, and no one could understand why. I did not stop them, though. I was just not involved in his training."

I absorbed it all and had to ask. "Rausery told me you made the decision to use him in my trial. Is this true?"

Her worded thoughts paused but her turmoil did not and I felt every instant that passed. "Yes, but only because he overheard something I'd said to Rausery which I did not intend. I did not feel the illness to warn me he was there until it was too late, but I believe Rausery was making an attempt to get us to talk because she was impressed with his actions and instincts while on the Surface. At the time, however, we were discussing you."

"What did you say about me?"

"I was in an unusually good mood, the Prime had granted my sponsorship of you, and Rausery and I were sharing a spirit in one of the planning rooms. We sometimes have discussions at the start of a competition, and I was looking forward to claiming you. I said you had the potential that Shyntre might've had if he'd been born female.

"I rarely make such mistakes around Rausery, but that was a regrettable one. I knew he had heard me when the nausea came on me suddenly, and I knew then that Rausery had him tucked away out of sight. I could leave or I could compromise myself further by falling unconscious in front of my equal. I left without seeing him. I later granted Rausery my agreement that he should be in your trial. I believe he may have asked her to grant it."

And he'd taken all that resentment and anger out on me. I had known that was what he was doing at the time, I just didn't know the specifics. Nor had I cared; it had made for a glorious chase afterward and an enlightening quest. I felt myself flush in response to a memory of our recent tussle in the Tower, and D'Shea gasped in response to the sudden feeling.

"Sirana, I...I did not expect you to start appreciating him. A disadvantage, for certain, if he still hates you."

"It is more complex than hate, Elder. I believe some part of him likes the challenge and perhaps the attention as well. He feels he does not belong anywhere, that is true, and he aches for bonds, for acceptance, even while pushing them away with both hands."

"And why would you want a bond with him?"

I hesitated, and when I didn't answer immediately, she added, "Watch your blind spots, Sirana. I cannot help you or advise you in this case."

"I understand, Elder. Tell me how Tarra became your ally."

"All you need to know is that she did not witness the ritual and does not know of it from me. Whatever she has found out about it has been on her own, but I believe she has since pieced most of it together. She provided me with care and protection during my time at the Sanctuary, for her own reasons then, but we have formed a mutually beneficial bond since. I forged the way for her to become our liaison because of her knowledge of both arcane and divine, and it has had its moments to please the Valsharess."

"Thank you, Elder."

"Thank me later. We have many more specifics yet to discuss."

I was the only Drow to whom she had been able to confess in two centuries. D'Shea asked me clearly now to see her vengeance through to the end, to see Wilsirathon dead, or at least crippled to where her death would be eventual—and in doing so, to free my Elder from her chains.

For once, I didn't doubt her motive. It was hard to lie in a psionic link.

There was a means in which I might do it, but I had to return to the Sanctuary and serve Wilsira again. Failure would not only affect me but, depending on the "how" of the failure, also D'Shea and the political strength of entire Sisterhood.

"Kerse is her weak spot, Sirana, and you are the only one other than her who can use him."

*****

Even having been able to finally speak her own secret, D'Shea proved remarkably patient as we waited for Wilsirathon to ask for me. I agreed that the Priestess would be suspicious if I took any initiative, so we focused on the other plans and plots spread out before us. Almost too many from which to choose, it seemed sometimes.

The Priestess waited for just over seven months before we heard from her.

In that time, Jael had earned her red uniform, we managed not to lose any Red Sisters to casualties, and I made three more attempts to break that fourth ward without the help of my bracers. I was motivated, and learned to accept the indescribable stress and endure a little longer each time. The fourth attempt saw me break it, and D'Shea was delighted, in spite of the fact that I collapsed and nearly passed out afterward.

I had also been to the Tower thrice more to sit with my "instructor," this time with D'Shea's knowledge and consent. I treated the wizard no differently than before; not only could that possibly compromise my Elder, but he wouldn't have wanted my pity and I would not stir his suspicions that anything had changed between us...except for the sex. 

For my second lesson, Shyntre had placed a familiar color of stoppered vial on the table and folded his hands, watching me. "From my own trusted source. I must insist before we begin your studies."

I had grinned so widely, confirming it was a prevention draught. This meant that he had at last accepted that I would have him when I wanted him.

He was still not easy to seduce; he was incredibly stubborn and spiteful. Though I had wondered at first whether the preventative he'd given me would go to waste, we found ourselves again on the floor earning rug-burns before the lesson was finished. Ultimately there was not one visit where I could not goad Shyntre into some form of coupling in the library. I let it be rough, that was the best way between us and, in truth, I loved his energy and his foul and so-very-talented mouth.

I still held to what I'd told D'Shea as well: some part of him desired the attention, enjoyed being pursued and wanted. He did not go out of his way to find sex, Phaelous had told me, but I seemed to be one who could gain his attention with any consistency. 

I managed a visit to Callitro as well, recalling the item I'd asked him to make for me ages ago. I discovered he was still willing to see me—though he seemed to have done more research and was better prepared for submission, such a contrast to Shyntre— and that he had been keeping the simple gold ring for my eventual return. I had taken to wearing it on my right hand beneath my glove.

"Once per cycle, it will give you enhanced senses when you need to aim a weapon," he said. "Only whisper the command word. The effect will last for only a few moments and you will not get a second try, so make the strike count."

"Well done, young mage."

I had the opportunity to test the ring both in practice and in combat, and it was as Callitro had said. I considered myself impressed, and I liked having that edge at my disposal. It wasn't like others didn't have the same; it all depended on what they asked for and how persistent they were to get it.

I went only once to see Auslan. It was granted when I heard that Curgia at House Itlaun had caught and promised D'Shea a better update than those who questioned him, they not knowing what went on at that House.

Curgia's sister, Tulia, was about ready to burst, but the elder sister was again about as I'd seen her before; far enough along to show but perhaps a bit over a year yet to go. Curious. She would have had to conceive very shortly after she miscarried the quarter-breed to be this big by now. Auslan was indeed a potent Consort.

The beautiful Drow had seemed troubled by something while I was there, asking him for current information.

"Are you well, Auslan?" I asked, mostly to be polite and keep him talking.

"Yes, Sister, I...have only not been sleeping well."

"Oh? Why is that?"

He shook his head. "It happens to us sometimes. The dreams of reverie are too real to allow us to rest deeply."

"What kind of dreams?" I was interested. "And who is 'us.'"

"That would be the Consorts. As for what kind, it is essential that we dream practicing the fertility magic at least twice per seven days if we are not actively breeding. It keeps the pathway open."

This sounded abstract, even for him. "Mm-hm. And when they seem 'too real'?"

"It feels as if Lolth herself has ridden me and the sheets usually need washing. It is not very restful."

My brows lifted and I blinked then smiled. "So you have wet dreams regularly. As part of your health, you say?"

He shrugged with grace and managed not to look embarrassed as he moved a few things around his vanity. "Near enough."

"I still don't see why that would make you troubled."

"Try dreaming my dreams sometime, Sister, and tell me you feel otherwise."

He almost sounded like Shyntre right there, with that bit of bold defensiveness. I thought it was cute.

"I'd love to, but seeing as that's impossible, I'll have to stick with my own dreams."

In the following lull, Auslan looked up from the vanity to see me staring at him. He read my expression well because it was one with which he was familiar.

"You still desire me."

I shrugged. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I have not seen you since the eve Curgia miscarried."

"You could have seen us off the next cycle as we left."

"I was...resting."

"The healing took a lot out of you?"

I'd wager he actually looked wary with that one. "I am not a healer as you understand it."

"I'd love to hear more about that."

Auslan started to shake his head, but I took a step forward, closing in on his space. He started backing up.

"Fertility magic can heal, right? Only you have the ability to take fertility away as well."

"I said it can have that side effect on a healthy womb if it is powerful enough," he corrected, moving to the side and putting one of the two lounging chairs between us. "It's not a direct occurrence or something that happens in the weaker spells. But you had been barren, hadn't you? You aren't now. A powerful Priestess healed you, correct?"

"Very good," I said, starting to circle around. "I'm guessing you did a similar ritual to get the stillborn out and save Curgia from bleeding to death?"

"A ritual, yes. I have no idea if it was similar to what you experienced."

"So exact in your wording, Auslan."

"I must be in my role, Sister."

"Curgia caught by you almost immediately, didn't she? You must have been talented, or she was grateful."

We were still moving slowly around Auslan's room during our back-and-forth. We each wanted to maintain the same distance from each other, but we seemed to disagree on what that distance should be.

Or perhaps Auslan thought I was stalking him. He could be right.

"I fail to see how that is relevant to this report, Sister," he said.

"Don't try hiding behind a mask now, Consort. Your act doesn't fool me, it never has. You are powerful, and I tempt you."

We were getting near the bed but Auslan quickly realized it and took several steps sharply in the direction of the balcony.

"You agreed to leave me be," he said.

"You got too curious about me," I replied. "Tell me, have you told Wilsirathon what you know of me in the wilderness?"

"No," he stated immediately, and looking a little shocked. "That would make me of far less value to her."

"You couldn't give it to her without implicating yourself?"

"She would ask how I could possibly know. I do not think she would believe you simply loosened your tongue around me for no reason when she wasn't even aware that you and I knew each other before you fell on me in the garden. At best, she would assume you had taken me during that visit and engaged in some pillow talk, and the result for me would have been the same. Believe me, Sister, I will say nothing of it to her. I gain nothing."

His voice had risen just a little in frustration and I loved it. Auslan chose to keep the room secure and did not open his balcony doors to escape into more open air. He moved passed them.

"Then why ask in the first place? You seemed desperate to know something about me, my treasure."




Sufferance Ch. 13



His expression became pinched; he was being backed into a corner in more ways than one and he knew it.

"You said you would not lie by omission," I added. "This is your last chance to uphold our agreement."

He frowned, showing his disagreement on who was straining the agreement, but, come now, I hadn't touched him. Yet. He was trying to think of something evasive to say, as he so often had.

"Does your probing my past have anything to do with Wilsirathon?" I asked directly, because it was what I really wanted to know and I figured he'd take the guidance.

He blinked, seemed to try to swallow with little moisture in his mouth, and said, "Yes...but...not on her behalf. I am trying to find out more about her reach."

"To what purpose?"

"So I know where not to step," he said reasonably, but it sounded too light compared to that pinched look from earlier.

I paused, both in my conversation and my step, and he stopped roaming the room as well. "What if you found out something that compromised her, or might threaten her power? What would you do with it?" His eyes slid to the side and I clapped in front of his face, startling him. "Look at me. Answer."

He shook his head, watching my face carefully. I imagined he could read me quite well by now. Instead, he asked, "What would *you* do with it?"

I smiled a little, and took a risk that I trusted in my gut was not too large. "I'd bring her down before she comes after me again."

Auslan blinked slowly, his expression carefully controlled. He did not try for either defense or shock. He had said that he had been closer to his first Priestess, who had been brought down by Wilsirathon and he had been given to winner. I hadn't thought a Consort would ever directly seek revenge for something like that, but...depending on the strength of the initial bond, I could see someone like Auslan being indirect about it.

"What will happen to you when she falls?" I asked.

I fully caught his attention with my inevitable wording; it was intentional. He understood what I was saying for certain now, and his next answer mattered quite a bit.

"It would depend on how she falls, Sister," he answered, "but, as you have said before, I am not made of glass. I would let her face her fate, and accept what came for me."

I narrowed my eyes slightly and smirked. "Not so afraid as to try to prevent it?"

He shook his head. "No, Sister."

"Why not? Does it have anything to do with the wizard I saw you talking to when last your Priestess was here?"

I managed to shock Auslan, I knew I had, but I had to commend his recovery time.

"No, it is still for my first Priestess," he maintained, then asked forthright, "Who knows about the garden, though, other than you?"

That was a deft response, I realized. If I admitted to him no one knew, I'd be telling him I withheld that information from my Elders. If I told him otherwise, I could scare him badly enough that our conversation would essentially be over. I'd impulsively dropped a flare at his feet but he managed to deflect it back at me like a mirror, blinding me as well, and I hadn't a reply at the ready. It would likely lead us into other deal, another secret...

Damn. I *must* curtail my own desire to see honest responses out of Consorts in the future.

"If I said that no one did, would it save your life?" I said in mild threat.

"Meaning you did not report that part of your journey to your Elders." He nailed it immediately, watching me with a fascinated and self-satisfied little smile.

"Not yet," I said deliberately. "I did not have enough information yet."

"Meaning you wanted to find out more before they did," he interpreted, and if his tiny smile got any wider, I'd probably slap him.

"Do you know who the wizard is?" I retorted.

"How can I not be aware of that when the Sanctuary is one large hive of gossip? The children conceived outside of it are talked of the most."

"Then surely the Sisterhood already knows that you know him."

"They do. I do not believe that they care."

Meaning I probably could have told D'Shea about Shyntre and Auslan talking in the garden, and it would not have made a lot of difference. I only hadn't understood the connection well enough at the time. Now I would have difficulty explaining it, if D'Shea ever found out, and Auslan had just gotten more than I had.

Damn him. He was good at this.

"Perhaps none do care, except for me."

"Why?" he asked. "Because of Wilsirathon?"

"No, because you were giving him advice on how to deal with me," I said, deciding to show my irritation. "I did not appreciate that. He was my prey, you meddler!"

I was sure I was not in complete control of the conversation here, but neither would I allow Auslan to be. Better that we both reveal more than we intended.

He looked very, very confused. "Your...prey?"

"Come, you knew that already, I heard you. You told him I'd lose interest the sooner he submitted."

"He only mentioned having some difficulty with the newest Sister on that particular trip. Yes, I knew it was you, but I was thinking more of the previous time he had difficulty keeping a Sister off him."

"When was this? And who?"

He shrugged. "I don't know her name, and he hasn't mentioned her in years. She may have been killed in action, for all I know. It was shortly after he appealed to your Elders for some type of service to them. He wanted out of the Sanctuary and convinced Wilsirathon he would spy for her, initially. For some reason, she agreed. I do not believe he followed through as promised."

"How did he end up at the Tower?"

"More difficulties between the Sisterhood and the Priesthood, as I understood it, he had witnessed something. However, I was serving the Noble Houses by then and was often far away. I know few details." Auslan was watching me intently. "Shyntre has been of...lasting interest to you?"

"Jealous?" I teased, mostly to block him.

He shook his head. "That is one of the least useful emotions for a Consort, Sister."

"How pleasant for you that you are able to pick and choose your emotions," I commented.

"Were you born in my place, you would know the same."

"Except you seem comfortable with a very hot-tempered Drow. What did you mean that Shyntre should be satisfied to see you 'torn' when you said he would be the one to make the choice?" I probed more.

I was vaguely stitching together the last thing I'd overheard in the garden, which had been right after that secret that Auslan had passed on, that Shyntre had said he didn't want to hear—and that I hadn't regardless.

Having had the warning now that I'd been there, the Consort did not give anything away on his face. When he swallowed, I thought it looked too deliberate. "Only as you said, Red Sister, that I do not know what will happen to me after Wilsirathon. But I will tell you Shyntre may have a hand in it; he knows more. Wilsirathon has made her enemies on her rise, and she will be the next to fall if she continues dabbling in Abyssal breeding."

Of course, I remembered telling him that Curgia had been forced and Wilsirathon was behind it. "Do you know anything else about that?"

"I confirmed what you had told me. Curgia confessed to me it was not as Wilsirathon had told her mother about how she conceived by Kerse. She said that she'd been made to accept him while completely sober. She also commented more than once that her magic felt weaker. They were not said together in the same conversation, but I think perhaps they are connected."

I smiled and nodded. Good to have that confirmed as well. "Yes, you told me about a Priestess losing power if her demon-bred dies."

"So even a half-formed child has that price to pay," he said. "That makes it a magical symbiote."

"Not a parasite?"

"I think not. The mother gains power as well, correct?"

"You do a lot of thinking, Auslan."

"I have a lot of spare time, and my opinion counts for little anyway."

I nodded. "And Shyntre? How well do you *actually* know him?"

I waited expectantly and did not open my mouth again until he answered the question. No more distracting myself or making it so easy for him.

Auslan watched me carefully for several moments. "You never told me what he is to you."

"Why would that matter?"

"You are asking me the same thing."

"So he means something to you."

"Implying he does to you, as well. If you saw us in the garden, you could not see that yourself?"

"I'd say you were allies, yes."

"More brothers."

I blinked; it was a surprising qualifier to admit. "It could not be in blood...?"

"No. But we were raised together." My Consort shrugged. "The Consorts are encouraged to listen and watch the Nobles but not to interact much beyond mating signals and seduction. Nor are we encouraged to draw too many conclusions. Though I was older than him, his thoughts were challenging well before I eventually realized how mine... were not."

I smirked. "And you have a latent competitive streak."

Amazingly, he smiled at me and looked pleased. "Perhaps. Having him around certainly made my existence more interesting, and indirectly made me one of the more useful Consorts when I used my mind on occasion. But as I said, I do not believe either the Elders or my Priestess care that much about our past association."

*Perhaps they should,* I thought, and considered what little I could remember about what I overheard. Words had been so disjointed that I had few conclusions of my own. I also couldn't be certain I'd gotten what I came for; Auslan had been so evasive while seeming to be straightforward, I didn't know where the holes in his story were. I only suspected they were there.

He was almost someone from whom to learn. If I had thought the Court was good at saying much while telling very little, Auslan's relative lack of emotional involvement in whatever observations he made hid much more than the sly comments and backhanded compliments of the Court.

I slowly let out a breath, moving closer without threatening his space, matching gazes with him for several moments and not looking away. I enunciated my words, "I am searching for anything to bring about Wilslirathon's decline sooner rather than later. Will you offer anything?"

Auslan was quiet for a few moments as he considered, and he smiled a bit. Then he did something counter-productive for us both, I thought.

He reached out and touched my face.

The warm, soft palm cupping my jaw and smooth fingers sliding just behind my ear felt far more intense than it should have and I sucked in my breath, frozen for an endless instant. Almost like Shyntre's fingers sending a magical charge through my sex while he serviced me, Auslan gently and chastely touching my skin shocked me in the most pleasant of ways, deep and intimate.

At the same time, I did not know what he was doing. My gut told me he was doing something; his eyes were slightly unfocused as if he was thinking of something else.

I found the will to knock his arm to the side and I stepped back, glaring and hating how my breath was audibly shaking for that one moment. Lolth, I wanted him. "What was that?"

He blinked and focused on me. I saw his throat flash as he swallowed. "I'm sorry, Sister, I just wanted to.... thank you, if the Sisterhood is targeting Wilsirathon now."

"So I should treasure a touch from you that much, hm?" I said irritably. "You cunt tease. Don't do that again unless you're prepared to show your thanks *much* more than that."

"My humblest apologies. I'd forgotten to ask...what of Kerse's interest in you? Has that changed?"

I shrugged impatiently; I could focus on that bizarre answer to an odd but ultimately harmless touch, or I could accept the change in direction. If it *was* a change in direction. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since we left here."

Auslan nodded. "I will wager that if it hasn't, then I cannot give you a better key than that which you already have, Sister. Though it can just as easily get you killed." Or worse, his expression seemed to add.

"Tell me something I don't know, Auslan," I said. And I meant it. I stared at him.

He frowned slightly.

"Tell me something new," I repeated. "Surprise me. Or I'll surprise you."

I let a deviant lust show in my body language, not unlike how I'd been when I attacked him the first time.

"That is hardly a surprise, Red Sister."

"Try me. I'll remind you that you touched me first, I should get a return touch."

He finally looked more wary. "That is not a good idea."

"Then surprise me."

His lovely mouth was open; he seemed to be trying to decide what to say, when the ward on the door sounded. We both jumped.

"Enoqis?" I heard Curgia's voice through the door. "Are you awake?"

Fuck!

I scowled at the Consort—*Enoquis? Really? Surely they could do better than that!*—but he signed quickly in front of my eyes, his expression intense:

*She can break the ward if she wants. She has sometimes come in while I slept.*

Lolth damn her.

*Answer her,* I signed grudgingly. Or she would wonder why he didn't when she realized he had not been asleep.

I started moving for the dark corner where I usually entered and exited by way of his laundry shaft. A false panel just above my head led to the roof of the manor, on the back side above the garden. Someone on his balcony wouldn't be able to see me sitting up there, and the magically curved design of stone and fired clay afforded one or two blind spots even to any standing in the garden—if one knew where they were. The Red Sisters did.

"No, Mistress, I am awake. Allow me a moment, please."

I couldn't escape quite yet, though; the panel would make too much noise to move right now. Instead I pulled myself atop his wardrobe right next to the laundry shaft. Its flattop frame was solid stone, decorated high with ornate whorls of fruit and fertility signs, with sliding, fiberstalk doors of a polished, mirrored surface. I could lie down on my belly and, with my cloak and hood covering me and dampening my energy, I was invisible to the casual observer.

Auslan quickly lit two extra candles with a spark rod which, given their placement, further helped to mask me by casting longer shadows above the wardrobe and obscuring life energy from sensitive eyes with their bright, burning heat.

How ironic that more light meant that we would see less.

Curgia was allowed in, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him, and I had gone very still with an internal groan. If Auslan didn't somehow persuade her to leave quickly, I could be in for a long and potentially frustrating spy.

"You are up late," she commented.

"I was awakened," he admitted, which surprised me because that was exactly what happened. I'd startled him out of reverie.

"Dreams again?" she asked. "Poor lovely."

She stroked his arms and looked at his silken, white robe that he'd used to cover himself when I'd arrived. Otherwise he slept nude—which had been pleasant to discover. She was wearing a robe, too—a rich blue—and her baby bump was obvious.

"I am having unsettling dreams as well," the Noble daughter said, still holding on to him. "Do as you have done and make me forget them for a reverie?"

"Are the techniques I taught you not working, Mistress?" he asked, his voice soft although his body language wasn't exactly melting into her.

"I've told you, use my name when we are alone, Enoquis. And I have tried but I still dream of that terrible place before you saved me from it. I feel so weak still..."

I heard the unbecoming whine in her voice. It occurred to me that she could be playing the weakness part up a bit; personally, I was not impressed by those who feigned helplessness to get what they wanted. It was a distinct quality of the privileged or the lazy. No one who made it into the Red Sisters possessed that learned quirk, or if they did, it was quickly unlearned.

The Noble's hands slid up to Auslan's collar bones and fingers slid beneath his robe as she parted it to expose more of his chest.

"Mistress...Curgia, would you like me to instruct you how—"

"No, I want you to do what you did once to save my life, do it again."

His face tensed. "I cannot, Curgia, I've said before...that's the divine influence, I cannot use it at will. Lolth saw fit to have it happen."

She kissed the skin of his chest, inhaled his scent, and moaned softly, taking his wrists and placing his hands on her swollen belly. Auslan's face was expressionless and he took little initiative, but he kept his hands were she had placed them and let her continue to taste his skin as she licked his nipples.

"This baby is yours...conceived that night, I'm sure of it. We are truly blessed, Enoquis."

"You are blessed, Curgia, your House is," he said quietly. "I have many offspring and know none of them. They are the Goddess's gifts to you, to the mothers who bear them, not to me that is just the spark. You must wean yourself from me because I won't be here much longer."

The Noble looked up angrily then and the Consort took his hands from her middle. After a moment, she reached to tug loose the knot at his waist.

"Curgia, this isn't going to help," he said, some alarm in his voice as she stripped him of his robe and pushed him toward his bed. "The more often you visit, the worse it will be later, and that will not be becoming behavior for a First Daughter."

"Be silent. We have time yet, I'm not going to waste it!"

I wished I could have left then; I didn't like entertaining thoughts of violence against a pregnant Drow just so she would leave the Consort alone. Curgia was clearly making a mistake in her judgment becoming overly attached to the sire of her child, particularly this one. But then, some of my best lapses in judgment had been both under some impairing influence and when I should have known better.

I looked around for something, anything, to distract Curgia and stop what was happening below me, but anything I could have done would be at the expense of revealing myself. She still owed me a favor—perhaps I could insist that she never entered his room again...except that I could not enforce it and, as I watched, I did begin to think that this was very...unusual behavior for one I'd been watching for a long time. I almost didn't recognize her.

Auslan had been slow in becoming erect despite her frantic fondling, so the Noble had stripped herself, showing her belly proudly, and straddled him on the bed. She ground herself on him as she reached to wrap both hands around his neck. 

I already understood playing with air deprivation during sex, and generally it did help a male increase his stiffness, but there was a little too much desperation in her body language for it to be just play. Her control was not there and it was too violent. It was as if she thought: if she could not get him to give her what she needed, she would wring it from him instead.

I tensed, my eyes locked on the coupling pair as I read his signs of distress, watching for true danger. I decided I would reveal myself if she threatened his life, if his struggles weakened to a certain level, and deal with the inconvenient consequences later. I tensed.

Then the Consort did something to save himself, though I was not completely sure what. His hands left off trying to loosen his Mistress's hold around his throat and went to her belly first, stroking her like one might brush a Uroan's coat to make it shine, then one hand slipped beneath the bulge to her hidden white thatch, the other to her pregnancy-heavy breast, stroking that, the first going next from her snatch to stroking her side, her waist and back, the other her buttocks and thighs. 

He couldn't speak and he was wheezing, but the touches were bizarre, deliberate and complex enough, repeated in the same order starting with the belly again—very much like a spider weaving an invisible web—that the actions themselves seemed like the cause when Curgia began to calm down, to ride him less frantically.




Sufferance Ch. 13



The giveaway that it had to be a spell of some kind came when I felt a warm spot at my chest and realized that my sapphire had started to glow dimly beneath my armor. I made sure to smother that light promptly, but I was fascinated, paying far more attention to Auslan as he finally loosened her hands. She kept rocking for her own pleasure, and he took a deep breath, another, and the stone beneath my shirt that had been warming my skin, building its power, went cool and dark once again.

As far as I could tell, Auslan didn't seem to climax, though Curgia did sooner than I expected. She was disoriented and lax after she coasted down, rolling off to the side and promptly falling asleep. His sex remained turgid as he escaped the bed and quickly lifted up his robe, carrying it with him over to the vanity. I saw him look at himself in the mirror, at the darkening marks around his neck, then he selected a bottle from which to take a healthy sip.

The Consort donned his robe and sat down abruptly with his eyes downcast, adjusting himself to hide the softening erection. He didn't look at the mirror again though he would have seen me silently climbing down from the wardrobe if he had.

"She won't wake for the rest of the rest cycle," he murmured quietly. "You can leave safely, Red Sister."

Near the bed I leaned over, looking at Curgia's face and her form in repose, my fingers already dipped into a sleep powder I could blow over her face if her eyes fluttered. She certainly looked down for the count, though; motionless and deep in reverie. I removed my fingers and cinched my pouch again, dusting off my gloves.

"How often does this happen?" I asked.

Auslan shrugged, his hands resting still in his lap. "Every few cycles, when she dreams of the Abyssal ritual the Priestess put her through, yet manages to tear herself out of her reverie. She's convinced sex with me helps her sleep peacefully. I cannot convince her otherwise, so at least I know a sleep spell that actually works on her."

I quirked my brow and stepped quietly toward him. His gaze lifted to the mirror and watched me intently, warily, though I stopped while a few steps from him. I noticed the finger-shaped bruises on his neck were starting to fade.

"You know about that ritual, too?"

Auslan nodded, his neck still a bit stiff. "I knew from the beginning that you hadn't caused the miscarriage as Wilsirathon claimed. I did not find that kind of damage when I examined her. I have, however, heard Curgia talking in her sleep. She had experienced something like a Priestess does when dreaming of the Abyss, seeing it, hearing it, one might as well be there, but she does not know how to tolerate it. Wilsira has...condemned her to a particularly cruel fate."

"And she looks to you as her healer and comfort," I commented.

"You wanted me to surprise you, Red Sister," the Consort said, turning around slowly in his seat to look directly at me. I saw a side of him that I hadn't seen before; an anger like cold iron, different from Shyntre's white hot flashes of temper.

It was the first time I was wary of him, even a little.

"Would it surprise you to know that something like this," he indicated the sleeping mother-to-be, "is what could have happened to you had I not fought you? I could have made you addicted to me, as she is. You were already vulnerable thanks to whatever some Priestess had done to you. I could have not only given you my seed but made you long for me far into your pregnancy to where you would forget who you had been."

Okay, yes, that surprised me. I wanted to swallow at what would have been a very effective punishment for my actions, but didn't. "So why didn't you, Auslan?"

"It was a sure way to die. But had I been ready, I could have made you suffer as well, and I didn't even need to know who you were."

My brow furrowed and a few quiet moments passed. "What do you mean, had you 'been ready'?"

Auslan hadn't looked away yet as he sat staring up at me. "Most Consorts do not live past their prime, Sister. Some choose their fate, and others have it chosen for them by chance or design. We cannot interact with the general populace because of our looks, and after enough time, we gain our own sets of enemies among the Nobles and Priestesses because of our effects on them. Some are shaken or resentful of the base need we make them feel, or they get too jealous of others who have us next. Does that sound like the makings of a long life to you?"

Well, by comparison, every time I went out on a mission my life could end by something as simple as a fall or well-placed thrust or shot, whether I wished it or not. I would always choose "not." However, I didn't feel like getting into a one-up argument. This was the first Drow I had ever met that, if I was hearing him correctly, might actually be planning how he was going to die.

At my silence, the Consort finally looked away. "I am trying to bring Curgia back to something of what she was before Wilsirathon damaged her, but I'm not sure it is possible. You may have limited time to continue using me, Sister, and if you plan to target my current Priestess soon, then may our Goddess favor you in that fight. I do not know if that would benefit me or not, but it may not matter. I will tell you some things anyway."

I perked up and kept my mouth shut.

"Beware of any incense she lights, or any thought that doesn't seem your own in her presence. Also do not accept any token or article of clothing from her if you can help it. Her strength has been in mind bending but she needs some moisture from her target first, each time, as her power element is in water. I believe Kerse amplifies the effects when he's near, which he so often is."

Most of this I had experienced myself or D'Shea had told me since her confession, and I felt a level of unease in my middle when I thought again about that cloth I had lost, which had had both my blood and Kerse's semen on it. The search team had never found it, and even knowing it was a long shot, my Elder hadn't been happy about it.

"I see. Very helpful. Anything else?"

"There's a dungeon in the Sanctuary," he murmured.

"Yes, I am aware."

"There is something else beneath it."

I tilted my head slightly. I wasn't aware of that; D'Shea hadn't mentioned it. Why not? She knew the way around the compulsion now...or did she not know about it?

He said, "Do not go there, or let anyone take or lead you there."

I stared at him. "You're stroking my curiosity and expecting me to ignore it? You won't say what's there?"

Fine, scarlet eyes looked around the room a bit more, back at the bed where Curgia hadn't moved even a sliver, then back at me. "What's there is... where I was made. Only females and infants see it, and any adult female who sees that is not also a Priestess does not leave it again."

I understood the warning, I really did, but his word choice threw me off. "Where you were...'made'?"

He smiled, but it wasn't one of his beautiful smiles. It had the same slant tinged with bitterness as my wizard. "Consorts are not accidents of birth, Sister. I thought you knew that."

"Well, specialized breeding, certainly," I replied.

"How the Priesthood and the Valsharess want all to see it. The truth is significantly more unsettling, though I am magically bound from giving specifics."

I narrowed my eyes slightly. "How could you talk about it at all, to even bring up the subject? I know how compulsions work."

"Magic wears differently on us all over time, Red Sister," he said, sounding much older than the two-hundred-fifty I saw in him. "There is always change, even with a queen that aims for stagnation." He smiled again, and this one was more suited to his beautiful face. "I like that it may be one as young as you to bring a deep earth quake to this City that needs it so. Though do not assume to do it alone."

I was still frowning at him when he added, "That is all I have to say. If you would, please bid me good eve, Red Sister? I am very tired."

Only when he said that did I realize that I was well past my message time for D'Shea; I truly needed to leave. I nodded. "Very well," I smirked. "Enoquis."

The Consort snorted, reaching for what I assumed was a bottle of wine set by the leg of his vanity. "Please, do not call me that. Of the last five names the Nobles have given me, I dislike this one most."

"What is your real name, then?"

"What is yours, Red Sister?" he returned smoothly with a wry smirk.

I considered a few things then. I would be going to the Sanctuary sooner rather than later. I had no idea if I would ever return here, and if I did, whether this particular Consort would even be here. If we succeeded...when we succeeded against Wilsirathon and brought her down, this Consort's life would be one of many to change as a result.

And if I failed, I would have either much more or absolutely nothing to worry about, no matter what I said now.

I nodded. "My name is Sirana."

I grinned at his expression; I had managed to surprise him as well. Nice payback. His eyes swept over my face and hair and figure, as if he was trying to decide if he could match a name with my appearance now. 

Finally he nodded. "An honor, Sirana."

"And yours?"

He hadn't opened the wine bottle yet; he set it back down and shook his head gently. "Forgive me, I still can't tell you. It has power over me a bit like a Draegloth's name, though not as binding. But honestly, Sirana? I enjoy 'Auslan.' I consider it my own 'free' name, because the Priestesses or the Nobles did not give it to me. If I should never see you again, I can still take that with me and I'm grateful."

I was not sure how to respond. He liked the name I'd chosen for him best? That did much to stroke my ego and I smiled happily and almost forgot I was late. Almost.

"Um...I should go."

He nodded. "Of course."

"Care to give me a kiss for Lolth's Favor?" I teased, already expecting a polite decline and lifting my toe to step back.

Then he moved to stand out of his chair. 

I froze and felt the instant pulse of desire in my chest and I was sure he would have seen it light up if the room had been darker. Auslan leaned in to offer his mouth—relaxed, soft, and slightly open—and I could not turn down the invitation if I tried.

He kept his hands out and open as before and I cradled his face with my own gloved ones, tasting him deeply. He was so intoxicating, and it felt the same as when he had responded to me before, trembling and trapped against the wardrobe but with an even greater intensity, springing from the possibility that it could be the last. It took all my willpower and some of his to step back and keep it from going farther.

"May the Spider Queen's webs trip up your rival but glide beneath your feet," he murmured, and though I did not tend to use them much myself, I smiled at the formal blessing.

At least I could leave knowing that, of all the times he may or may not have been acting, may have been faking his responses, that first kiss and the last one had had some part of Auslan in it.

*****

I triple-checked my equipment and went over again what details D'Shea was able in words or signs after she had accepted the summons from the Sanctuary on my behalf.

It was as expected: Wilsirathon claimed to have gathered information on her own and wanted my assistance identifying a possible weakness in her rituals of protection. The Prime was satisfied with the reason and, given that she knew that one of her newest Red Sisters was showing a talent for sensing or identifying psychic interferences as well as wards, she was only too glad to expand my exposure to the various forms. D'Shea had told me she had passed on what I'd told her of my long-dead sister, and that had later on helped convince the Prime to let me take this mission.

"Was she not surprised that you did not object?" I had asked.

"Ah, but I did object," D'Shea smiled. "I let the Prime convince me of the reasons why we should let you go. She wants closer eyes on what Wilsira is up to, but the mental persuasion talent she's used aggressively for the last century has made it difficult for us. Until you. She knows Wilsira is interested in you because of her son, and you have some resistance to her power. The Prime is taking this opportunity while she can, so do not let us down."

"That is my goal, Elder. How much have you told her of the bloodstone and my service?"

"Everything, novice, I am not stupid. That is why she is more focused on this Priestess than she has been lately. She just needs to know whether it is Wilsira's influence or the Draegloth himself that has him acting this way, and whether the Priestess is indeed threatening the Valsharess with her plots. That is what you will find out."

Lelinahdara met me at the Sanctuary's back entrance when I arrived, the same as before. She wore her purple robes and her silver jewelry on her hands and around her neck, her ears pierced with the usual studs and delicate chains and dangles, but she was not wearing her headpiece or her ceremonial dagger. She looked more relaxed and casual, though the green of her eyes glinted with sharp cunning as she resealed the door behind me.

"Welcome once again, young Sister," she said with a smile.

"Priestess." I granted her another bow but forewent the exaggerated social greeting of before. I did give her a smile in return, though.

"Wilsirathon is unavailable at this very moment, but she will be pleased to meet you on the fourth floor."

That had been one floor that we had skipped the last time I was here. I was instantly curious. "As you wish it, Priestess."

We passed the main purple floor, then the gold one, and my ears automatically strained for sounds of children with the third blue floor. I did not hesitate as before.

The next floor was...almost red. Not the blood red of the Sisters, but a lighter, more playful red, as if blood had been mixed with a little white and the barest touch of blue, lightened to a delicate, passionate color. The expected tapestries that insolated and decorated the walls were all erotic scenes, and I recognized several small statues and pieces of art that celebrated and glorified the swollen belly and the act which led to it.

I inhaled, then did so again more deeply. The perfume of the place could have one's head spinning in a few ticks. Some of it was manufactured—whether by magic or mundane skill—but another layer of it reminded me strongly of Auslan's scent near his neck. The scent that smelled so sweet and made my mouth water.

"Why have me wait for the Priestess on the Consorts' floor, Lelinahdara?" I asked without much amusement. After watching my Consort's mistreatment—not altogether different from how we'd met—and hearing more from him what he or any of his brothers could expect from their kept lives, I was not sure I wanted to be here to see where it began.

Tarra smiled at me. "A gift. You are not one to spurn gifts, are you, Sirana?"

I sighed inwardly. "No, Priestess, and whom should I thank? You or Wilsirathon?"

"That would be me, young Sister."

This made me pause—it likely meant she wanted me to see something—and I nodded slowly. "My sincere gratitude, Lelinahdara. What would you have me do?"

"Just wait. Look around, if you like, but you know the Consorts are off limits to you, correct?"

I was feeling a little uncomfortable but didn't dare show it. "Yes, I know, Priestess."

"Then you are safe as they are. I have elsewhere to be right now, but I will come get you when Wilsirathon is available."

I turned my gaze from where it had drifted—to a small portrait of a blue-haired young Drow with piercing green eyes—and stared at her. If not for the fact that I knew her to be D'Shea's ally...how could I otherwise trust a set up like this?

"Thank you, Priestess."

She left, and I stood in the main foyer at a complete loss. I could just stand in the same spot until Wilsirathon was available; it would not be the first time I waited a long time for an audience. A good test of my discipline and patience.

Although Tarra had said this was a gift, implying I would be wasting it if I did not explore it. What might I see if I did look?

My gait was easy and silent and slow as I went farther down the hall. There were four closed doors on my right spaced wide measures apart—all decorated identically and silent on the other side near as far as I could tell—and I could hear soft music after a moment and a quiet drone of voices coming from a larger room at the end before the hall bent to the right. The door was open and candlelight spilled out into the hall.

The young male Drow did not hear me or realize I was there as I steeled up to the frame and peeked around the edge. The sight was as beautiful as one might expect—four nubile bodies dressed to appeal to the female eye, clean and well-groomed—but it was also very odd.

They were languishing, idle, and entertained easily with mirrors. Their eyes were vacant. Docile. Most Drow around this age that I had seen would be searching for something to do, perhaps pacing if kept in a room for a long time. Certainly they would be eyeing each other to gauge the entertainment value of any sort of reaction. 

The contrast to Auslan was strong; his experience and his interactions with the outside world appeared in his stance, his every move, expression, and change that occurred in his beautiful eyes.

Did all Consorts grow into what Auslan had become with time? Not for certain, from what I'd seen here and there over the course of my life. The lavender-eyed Consort at House D'Verin had not seemed to have the same spirit, but I had attributed it to simple inexperience. Perhaps not so?

The major difference that I knew about was Shyntre, someone Auslan would claim as a brother—probably even over these new waifs now being trained to please the Priestesses. He'd said the wizard had made his "existence" more interesting. These new, young adults had the spirit of domestic livestock, so it was not hard to believe my Consort now about Shyntre seeming so different to him, who must have appeared a firebrand in comparison.

Would Shyntre's anger and rebellion have so affected one Consort but not all of them? It implied there was something unusual about Auslan as well, to make any sort of connection with another.

"Who's there?"

After my lingering so long, one of the Consorts at last sensed my presence. I did not retreat but stepped out boldly where they could see me, and the reaction almost made me laugh aloud. They all audibly gasped and looked frightened, two of them looking directly at another door at the back of the room. They telegraphed their intent and I could have stopped them if I wanted, but I let them escape through the door and to whatever safety they felt they needed.

Of the remaining two lovelies, one seemed frozen to his couch and the other was...fascinated. At least, if his erection visible beneath his wrap was any indication. That was one disadvantage to being male; it was so hard to deny when one was actually willing.

"Who are you?" he asked. He made no attempt to cover the bump beneath his clothing though he remained seated.

I recognized his voice; he had been the one to call me out. It was smooth and tender; I could bet he might also sing to arrest an audience at the altar. He had the same familiar white hair and dark skin as all Drow but for a few, though his eyes were such a light copper color they almost resembled the main body of a candle flame instead.

"A guardian," I answered shortly. "Who are you?"

The young Drow blinked. "A Consort?"

He wanted my approval, and had mimicked my own answer. I nodded, and he relaxed at my acceptance of his answer. 

"Do you have a name, Consort?"

I saw his mouth open and his throat suddenly constrict. His face showed a sharp discomfort that surprised and frightened him, and he gasped for air when his throat opened again. "N-...no, no, guardian. I have no name but what you give me."




Sufferance Ch. 14



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 2013

To my readers, please be warned of more graphic violence in this chapter than is typical. However, you have come this far, and I would not have written it this way if I did not believe it fit with the story.

So at last it all comes to a head. 

*****

Chapter 14

Kerse knew how to use the teleportation ring to return to his mother's room; from there, he used it to get us out of the Sanctuary. I didn't know where we ended up and I would not have been able to retrace his steps because I couldn't turn my head. I felt paralyzed, though I wasn't numb; I was aware of his body heat and his scent, the expansion of his chest as he was breathing. My body was simply unresponsive to my will, though I could still think.

I couldn't talk, and I had no choice but to wait. I didn't want to die this way, without even lifting a finger to fight back. I felt my heart pound in my ears whenever I began to think about all that could happen to me while I was this helpless, so I tried not to think about it. I tried very hard, but the temptation to let the horror seep into me, to scream to relieve the tension—even if only inside my head—was stronger than almost any test of nerves I'd faced so far.

If I couldn't move, I couldn't distract myself, couldn't focus on doing something, anything, even if it was the wrong thing. I couldn't ask Kerse questions, couldn't try to persuade or bargain with him. I couldn't test my will against his.

I just had to wait for something to change.

So don't scream. Even if no one could hear it.

Wait, make that *almost* no one. The other presence might be able to, and it might enjoy hearing it, might laugh.

The thought gave me just enough focus to regain some illusion of resistance; the presence, the voice, might hear me screaming. It could choke on a score of spider husks before I gave it the satisfaction.

When we had passed through the circle once again, I could tell by smell that we had somehow skipped most of the City and he now carried me through the outskirts and more rural area. He didn't have to worry much about being seen. Not only was the population sparse enough and the view from any distance dark enough, but he was also bending the energy around us to cloak us, as he had himself at the worship ball last year. Interesting to know it could also be applied to something he carried.

He seemed to know where he was going.

I considered myself lucky that he hadn't thrown me face-down over his shoulder yet—he demonstrated the stamina to use both primary arms while carrying dead weight. He had tilted me against his torso and my head was lolling against his shoulder, my cheek pressed to his skin. If anyone could have seen us, I'd have looked unconscious, utterly limp in his arms.

*Where are you taking me?* I thought, belatedly wondering if he could hear me somehow.

The half-breed did not give away whether he had, and in any regard he never spoke as he made the trek farther out into the wilderness. He did seem to be pushing himself and it was no mystery why—sooner or later, someone would find his mother or she would wake up. It might help buy him some time that she was wrapped up in webs deep in a secret pit, though.

The climbing became awkward as the passageways became smaller and twisted about; finally Kerse simply had to throw me over his shoulder so that he could use both hands to pass us over and down boulders, slides, and into tunnels. I could only stare down at the ground passing beneath us and work harder at breathing as blood pooled in my head.

Finally, the Draegloth laid me down in what seemed a random place in a random tunnel, until I inhaled and detected a faint, lingering scent of alchemist's fire. There were scorch marks on some of the stones as well. It couldn't be, could it? The Drider's lair?

Was he going to feed me to it? *Oh, Goddess, no...*

Kerse removed one of my longer daggers at my side—the thin one which he'd taken from my boot he'd also left in the pit—and stroked my ear once in a bizarre show of gentleness. Then he left my field of vision. I could only listen, and I would strain to do so.

I needn't have bothered; the noise began very quickly and it was pure agony not being able to cover my ears as both Drider and Draegloth shrieked in rage. It was short but fierce, and in the end, the Draegloth won; the skittering sound of the disfigured Drow stopped, she collapsed with a thump, and bubbling gasses escaped from a warped, diseased body. The noise blessedly stopped.

Perhaps I could hope that Auranka would feel this, notice the Drider's death, and someone would come to investigate—although we were perhaps a little too far out for it to do me any immediate good. I had no idea if Lolth's werespider-Priestess could sense the deaths of the other Driders immediately, or how fast she might act on it. I still had to be ready to act if anything changed.

Kerse had spider guts on him when he returned to lift me up again; it got on my cloak and my uniform and I could smell the foul stuff. Lovely. But he carried me into the cavern and, as I had already begun to fear, he walked toward the large, quartz-shot stone set with a very powerful ward. One might have thought it would be the brightest source of energy in the darkness of this smaller cavern but, just as with many things, part of its glamor was to look ordinary.

I protested loudly inside my head but could not prevent his setting me down and— after some rough handling to hold me somewhat vertical—placing my hands on the stone. Unimaginable pain shot through me and, by Kerse's full-body jolt, through him as well.

*Don't make me touch it!* I thought in shrill desperation.

Finally, he acknowledged he could hear me. "Nneed ttouchh to brreakk itt."

*I can't!*

"Nnott trrue. Brrokke Mmotherr's."

*It is true! I can't do it!*

He growled in frustration.

*Fascinating,* said that presence again, calm and observant, but with a subtle weakness to it I hadn't noticed before. Even so, I was struck by how very close those pure thoughts seemed now. *She is projecting her thoughts so clearly, Draegloth. We'd have anticipated only a drooling haze given your spell over her... Patience. She will give us the solution.*

Kerse seemed to give a mental nod and they both waited. I did not like it and wasn't sure what they might've expected would happen. Yes, I had my bracers on still, it was likely the only reason I was still even conscious after a shock that bad. But I also had no preparation and no control over my own body's stress. It wasn't a matter of wearing the magic tools and putting my hands on it; I had to have some control over my body to break the ward.

*Unfortunate,* the presence commented.

I was in between Kerse and the warded stone, constantly battered by its throbbing spellsong as options were considered and discarded. Eventually Kerse spoke aloud.

"Mmovve asss befforre. Yyouu cannot hharrm mmee."

Only when I caught my own balance before falling onto the floor did I realize it had been a magical command.

In the short time I had been separated from my body, I had almost forgotten the pull on it from the world's center. I felt heavy and sluggish, weak...but I could move my own limbs again, lift and turn my head.

"Kerse—"

"Ddoo nnot sspeeakk," he added, and I lost the ability to form words with my mouth, although I could still make vocal noise. "Ddoo nnot tthinnkk mmy nnamme."

My vision blurred for a moment and I blinked, feeling the moisture escape my eyes and land on my cheeks. I felt enough fear being under a spell this strong that I could ignore, for now, any shame I might have had for the tears. 

The will and mental resistance D'Shea and I had both assumed I'd had...Kerse had demonstrated they were not nearly enough for something like this. The Draegloth had made a powerful item out of that soiled cloth which had both our fluids on it; it was something very specific to me. It bound us, or bound me to him, and all I could know was what he knew already: his Abyssal side had become so much more powerful in the last two years, and in the past few weeks the changes had begun to accelerate.

Why...? What had happened?

*Patience, Drow. You will have your answer before you die.*

"Bbrreakk thiss warrd, Ssirranna," Kerse commanded.

I would be releasing something, freeing a prisoner; I knew this as I focused on a task at which I had so recently worked very hard to become skilled. I was one of the fastest learners, D'Shea had said.

How had that become such a fortunate bonus for them?

Kerse wasn't touching me in any way as I worked and it took a long time, partly because it was complicated and strong, but also because I was still trying to resist, to stop myself from accomplishing this. I listened to the song and knew that it was not old; the ward had only been set in the past few weeks.

How could that be? I had first felt the ward here months ago, when I'd first found it on my Hunt with Jaunda.

Unless...one possibility was that this prison had regular visitors who removed the ward only to reweave it again before leaving?

*Fair deductive skills, our dear. Now obey your new master and remove it.*

Kerse concurred, repeating his command, and I soon after found the combination of runes that I needed. I started tapping them in order on my braces as I felt the magic start to swell and become unstable for a moment. My nose started to bleed again, but slowly, and the ward was starting to fail.

*Errrgh, noooo—!*

I blurted a scream as I felt the implosion of magic that sucked out most of my failing strength, just before it collapsed and started to dissipate. Kerse instantly instructed me not to move so I stayed on my knees, propped up with my hands, my imprisoned body trembling from the effort. The Draegloth used pure, raw strength to lift and roll the quartz boulder to the side.

By the smell, there was no doubt in my mind that this was a prison, and a small, torturous one at that. The frail, bony body inside was finally able to unfold itself completely, likely for the first time since the ward had been replaced. Putrid slime coated the rocks inside the hole, and while an attempt to dig out had been made, it seemed that method had been abandoned some time ago.

The limbs were long and incredibly thin, sinewy muscle barely seeming to hold the skeleton together; the soiled flesh may have been grey or an impure purple but it was hard to tell. It had hands with only four fingers, skinny as the rest of it and with claws that were probably not used in fights very often. Those trembling hands and arms scraped at the stone, pulling a significantly weakened body out into the cavern as it spasmed with cramps.

I saw the bald, oblong skull and the deeply set, milk-white eyes set wide apart...and I saw the tentacles formed around and covering a sharp, black-beaked mouth.

It was an Illithid. A mindflayer.

I made one sound of intense fear and tried to back up, to get distance. I'd been warned never to be this close to one! I surprised Kerse when I managed to shift on my own, and he was quick to grab my upper arms in his larger set of hands, hauling me back closer to him and—as a side benefit—farther from the emerging telepath.

I had just started to wonder why it hadn't shredded both our consciousness now that it was free when I noticed the collar around its neck. The collar was a stained but polished mixture of stone and metal that I didn't recognize. It was loaded with runes and formed from two halves with a hinge at one point in the circle, though there was no latch or lock to be seen; it was magically welded on.

The magical restraint combined with the chronic malnourishment had to be the reason it hadn't attacked us yet. The Illithid could not have been receiving much of the brain matter that it required. Unlike the Duergar, who were simply gifted or not and with varying levels of psionic ability, the mindflayers were all very powerful that way but were also strict carnivores and needed to crack into skulls on a regular basis to maintain their peak ability.

*Perhaps you would like to volunteer,* it said to me. 

I didn't think it could speak through that mouth, but even starved and tortured, it could still unfold mental missives to communicate. The collar may have suppressed the more offensive talents but not its method of speech.

I frantically shook my head and fumbled back onto my rear end and partially into Kerse's lap. I lashed out with a clumsy kick, though I missed because Kerse jerked me hard before he growled loudly. He next took away my ability to act on my own, but though I went slack, my eyes were still wide open and I couldn't help but look at the thing.

*She is locked awake.* The Illithid sounded somehow amazed, delighted even. *A thrall fully aware...! Are you certain we may not have her—?*

The Draegloth hissed at the newly-freed prisoner. "Killl yyou ffirrst!"

Naked, scraped, covered in open pressure sores, the Illithid waved its hand nonchalantly as if it were sitting casually in a parlor. *Of course. We recall our deal, demon. Pardon our severe hunger once faced at last with a choice, helpless meal. Her mind would be pure decadence in this state.... Alas, we shall take these, instead.*

The mindflayer reached out slowly with trembling hand, and the half-blood held me while watching its every move. The bony fingers went to my belt and removed my healing draughts; it had known right where they were. It quaffed the slow-acting one, dribbling the bottle messily beneath its facial tentacles and between the sharp points of its beak, and I heard a slightly disappointed mental sigh. It intended to keep the second in reserve.

*It shall suffice.* Pupilless, white eyes focused on Kerse as it rose painfully to its knees. *We do not have a great amount of time. It is your move now, demon. If you will remove the collar, we will remove your 'mother's' last block on your true power. After that, let us go, and you may keep your chosen and do as you must. Attack us instead, and we do not have to touch her to kill her once the collar is off. We will replace all the chains from which you have been freed before we die.*

"Aggreedd," Kerse said with a solid but determined glare. "Bothhh ffreee."

The Draegloth pushed me down onto my back upon the stones beside him and, with one large had pressing firmly to my chest, he commanded me not to rise. I could do nothing but obey though I groaned a wordless protest. I stared at him wide-eyed, hating every moment of this helplessness, this...this...compulsion. This prison inside my own body, inside my head.

*Ahhh,* the Illithid sighed, looking down at me. I could have sworn it smiled somehow. *Now you know this suffering, dear Drow. We comprehend this, as does your demon for much longer. Fascinating, is it not? How a simple concept, a mere abstract suggestion affects you and us alike, and even more fascinating in one who has already lived five hundred years that it can catalyze such changes so quickly.*

*What suggestion?* I asked. If he was going to talk in my head and would not shut up, I might as well talk back.

*The concept of the individual.*

*What would you know about that? You don't even refer to yourself as one!*

I felt its amusement. *Our Elder Brain understands many inefficient concepts from those we eat. Like so many dual-gendered races, Drow thrive on chaos and singularity and your Abyssal hybrids have even more potential. His host-body, whom he calls 'Mother,' simply would not sever the cord to let it grow. We severed it for her, so he could understand.*

Kerse distracted the Illithid then by reaching to touch the collar; the mindflayer stayed still and allowed it. I could feel the magic rise around us and breathed shallowly and quickly; I hated to admit it but was terrified at how powerful Kerse had become. Energy whirled around us as the Draegloth chanted something in a low bass. Tension rose steadily and I heard more strain in Kerse's voice, which had taken on that impossibly deep undertone, almost an echo coming from a chasm, as I'd heard at House Itlaun from Wilisra's own lips.

I heard something snap and the mindflayer flinched then stilled again. The next moment, Kerse removed the collar.

*Fuck. Fuck...fuck...* I never stopped trying to lift my head or my arm or touch something, anything on my belt or anywhere, but I remained as I'd been at the time the Illithid was truly free.

*Our gratitude, demon.*

"Rrepayy mmee."

The Illithid nodded almost amiably and reached up two hooked fingers to lightly touch the Draegloth's temple. Kerse's yellow eyes stared for a few moments then he grimaced and roared. His smaller, secondary arms struck out at air, barely missing the mindflayer, and as I watched with eyes wide open, his form began to shift again.

Kerse still wore his loincloth but he was otherwise unclothed, as I'd been used to seeing him. The muscles on his back shifted and bulged, and something sharp broke through the skin at his shoulder blades—a talon, I thought—and it continued to grow as he screeched in pain. The Draegloth shuddered and the jutting, twin malformations that came straight out of his back and rose slightly above his head were wet, ribbons of a life energy I was least familiar with shining in the dark.

I had only seen this jagged, aggressive pattern once or twice before, a glimpse only, during the ritual and congressional orgy that brought a new Priestess into her power. The demon that coupled with the brand new Priestess had possessed such energy.

My stomach felt cold and I trembled as I could feel part of that transformation through the link we shared, the flesh tearing and reforming, bones bending,, his pain and the surge of power. The link seemed to be strengthening, tightening between us. I knew Kerse was becoming less like Wilsira and more like his sire, whatever that sire had been, and his exaltation almost stopped my breath for a moment. 

Only after those newest limbs unfolded and stretched out enough that I related the shape to those of a cave glider—maybe—with webbed skin stretched between long, thin bones and multiple joints. Or, maybe a little more like Shyntre had taught me about the birds and the bats: wings. Wings to fly.

Except one couldn't fly far on wings down here in these cramped spaces; they would be a vulnerability and of little use. He would have to leave. Find another place.

*Your reasoning is surprisingly accurate, Drow,* the newly freed Illithid commented. *You are correct. Our emancipator already has a new home in mind.*

Kerse still trembled with pain from the abrupt shift and was huffing heavily but managed a scowl and a nod to the Illithid. "Lleeavve."

*Were we stronger, we would stay and watch,* the mindflayer said, coming unsteadily to its feet, its muscles stringy and every boney edge showing. If it had a gender, I couldn't tell; I didn't know how Illithids made more of themselves. My healing potion seemed to have done it some good, though. 

*Yes, we must get far away before your matrons discover this. Please, grant me her cloak to wear. She will not need it.*

*No!*

I voiced a strong but ultimately nonsensical complaint about that one, but to my dismay Kerse allowed it, removing my cloak and giving it so the Illithid could cover and warm itself. It donned my cloak with a nod and began to reach for the collar on the ground when Kerse snatched that away with shocking speed.

"Nnoo," he growled, one primary arm passing it to his secondary arm to clutch near his body like a dwarf guarding a gem. "Mmmine."




Sufferance Ch. 14



*Ah, regrettable. Very well,* it said with that empirical calm.

Without lingering further, the mindflayer left the cavern on its own two feet, no doubt going in search of something to eat.

The larger consequences of that prisoner escaping crossed my mind briefly but didn't stay long when Kerse removed my belt and remaining weapons and tossed them to the side. When he began to methodically remove my bracers, my boots, and my armor, I still hoped I was wrong—simply because I couldn't talk and he wasn't responding to any thoughts of mine.

"N-n—!" I stuttered when I discovered I was indeed not wrong; he was loosening the thongs at my hips and soon tugged my pants over the swell of my hips and down my thighs.

Even being unable to move or speak, I could feel the relatively cool air of the cavern on my sex, and my skin knew every measure of bare exposure as Kerse peeled my pants off my legs. Slowly, deliberately, he raised my arms above my head for me and lifted my shirt next. 

While the shirt briefly covered my face and my eyes, I felt Kerse's tongue flick one of my nipples and it responded, tightening into a hard nub. I wanted to glare at him when he removed the shirt entirely and tossed it aside, but even that freedom had been taken from me. My face felt passive and expressionless.

He loomed over me—more than he ever had before due to those massive, dark wings—and removed everything else on me. He unplaited all the smaller braids in my hair, leaving it loose, and he slipped Callitro's ring from my finger. Shyntre's blue pendant had caught his attention especially and he had yanked that away so violently that the necklace broke and it was possible I had a mark from the chain at the back of my neck. 

All of my clothing and possessions he placed far from me, at a far side of the cavern, and I lay helpless and nude on the hard stone floor. When Kerse returned, he actually did a cavity search on me; he checked my mouth and both my lower orifices for anything else that could be hidden. I understood why, I really did, but I still squealed a wordless protest. It was the claws!

Fully aware of the discomfort he had caused, he took a few moments to soothe my flesh with long his tongue, lapping between my legs. I could not lift my head to be able to see anything except his newest appendages rising high from his back, but I could still feel every rasping lick. I could grant that it felt good but the lack of being able to form any tension in my lax body precluded any possibility of orgasm in the near future—but that didn't seem to be what Kerse was going for anyway. 

I sighed, and he stopped once my mind had quieted a bit.

The next little while consisted mostly of Kerse creating his own magical circle using chalk and salt that he had stolen from my belt. I lay where he had placed me, several long paces away from the former prison hole. Though the circle seemed to have more in common with the arcane than it did a divine altar, I instinctively feared that the use would be the same.

*Kerse— Kerse—!* I had intended to try saying that full name I'd heard Wilsira use that one time on the teleport circle, whether I got the pronunciation right or not. However, it was true—as he'd commanded, I couldn't think the entire name. 

I kept trying anyway. *Please talk to me! What are you doing?*

A slight pause implied he could hear me, but he still didn't speak. He murmured under his breath as he drew a circle large enough to circumscribe both of us. I tried to cajole him, coax him, even tried opening a bargain, but as soon as I saw an expression on his face that was like one I'd seen him give Wilsira, I stopped.

I managed to swallow; he did allow that to be voluntarily so I wouldn't choke on my own saliva as I stared at the ceiling. A little bit at a time, I started being able to shift my eyes around more easily and I could follow his progress.

*Are you going to kill me?*

He watched me a moment, and answered, "Killl mmeanns eatt. Nno. Ssacrifficce."

I'd be just as dead either way, but maybe I might've preferred being eaten. I needed a moment to control the nausea or I was going to purge while lying on my back. Not a good thing. *No. Please, don't, not like that.*

"Mmusstt bbee gennuinne losss," he answered. "Nnott... innconvenniencce. Yyouu askked mmy nnamme, accepptted mmeee."

Maybe Qivni had had a point in reprimanding me for that one. I was not moved by his confession of affection, such as it was, as I would much rather keep breathing. I actually shuddered, and managed a tiny shake of my head. 

*Wouldn't your mother be the greater sacrifice? We could go back and get her.*

He paused a second, then continued both drawing his symbols and sprinkling his salt. "Iff hherr, nnott enough mmagic to ffinnishhh rrittuall. Nnew bonnd. Nneed yyouu."

*It...it works the other way, too? If a Priestess dies and her Draegloth survives, his power is reduced?*

Kerse nodded. "Unnlesss bonnd isss sseverred fforrevver inn Ssacrifficce."

So my death was literally going to come between mother and son, and it would free him without crippling his magic? This was assuming he wasn't just straight-up Abyssal insane, which was still a possibility. Not that it mattered to me this instant; knowing which wouldn't change his actions.

*What 'new home' did the Illithid mean?* I asked.

"Abyssss," he replied readily. "Crrosss ovverr."

Oh, Lolth. Was that what he was doing? Preparing to open a gate?

Maybe he expected to be able to use those wings on the other side.

No amount of begging that I could do would save me from this if that was his desire, and had been this entire time. That motive that no one had been able to discover, ever since the Illithid had nudged him in the direction of...separateness. Freedom. It had probably taken little effort on the mindflayer's side to start the change, and once begun, they both only had to be patient. And wait.

What struck me most, perhaps, was how much self-control the Draegloth now seemed to have. Far less like the half-breed that I'd first met in the candle chamber and again at the worship ball. His maturity actually reflected his age now, as if he were fully Drow.

Once Kerse was finished with his circle, he wasted no more time; he began his ritual. He parted my legs and kneeled between them, hunched over and chanting while I held damnably still for him. He caressed my bare skin, my hips and belly up to my breasts, over my throat and added a stroke across my cheek while making eye contact.

"Ssirranna Thhallennssarrecci," he whispered my name in that Abyssal voice and I shuddered involuntarily.

It had done something to me...it was almost as if I could feel both his slower breath and my panicked one at the same time. I was frightened nearly mindless, as I had been during my last trial with the Sisterhood on the altar, as I had often been under Juarinia. I kept trying to think of a way to save myself, but the simple problem remained: he had something that had control over me, and I had not yet been able to break it.

It did not look likely that I would break it, either; he had been bound by something for five centuries...and he had only recently found a way out.

I could feel the build of energy, the dark, slow rise, and I could hear the droning hum of low voices and whispers that seemed far away and shrouded in black. Kerse may have been making all those sounds or was only one of many to join them, I couldn't tell. My vision swam here and there but I kept trying to focus on the Draegloth and what he was doing as either my arousal or his became stronger.

I soon regretted trying so hard. While sufficient magic coursed through the runes and within the circle around us, Kerse finally removed his loincloth, setting it and the talisman down deliberately, one on either side of my open legs.

I saw what he had been hiding from Wilsirathon for the past few weeks. I saw exactly why he had stopped coupling with her or even stripped naked in front of her.

He'd had a good reason to hide it.

His genitals had changed even more since the last time I'd seen them. He was erect, and the bulge at the base was still there. It had always been unevenly shaped and an of appreciable size and girth...but now I had no other description for it except demonic in the truest sense. The pointed tip had two collapsible spikes protruding, one on each side that seemed able to stand up at will. The shaft itself possessed bony bumps and more than a few had risen to disturbingly sharp points, as if a claw or talon was growing through. The knot at the base now possessed three fine rows of small barbs.

If this was what Lelinahdara had meant about a demonic coupling being "scarring," then I did not see how she had even survived it. I knew Kerse needed his climax to further fuel the ritual, to push power it as high as it needed to go, but that meant he was going to fuck me with that tortuous endowment. It would shred me from the inside out, make me bleed just as my sister had...

I felt more tears falling out of my eyes and trailing into my ears, though like everything else, I could do nothing about it. Instead of having my throat cut, I would bleed out from the other end.

*Kerse—, please, no...*

Helpless begging was useless begging, but I couldn't stop the thought. I couldn't see any way to turn this to my advantage, not if I couldn't move, and—almost more—not when I knew just about everything that motivated him and yet I still couldn't find something with which to bargain.

Because I understood too well. I would do the same in his place.

He opened his yellow eyes and looked at me as he leaned forward and lined himself up with my sex. I whined; I could feel it, feel everything, and I couldn't move out of the way!

*Ssorryy,* he thought, and pushed half of his reformed weapon inside me.

I cried out only once at first, more shocked than anything. When I realized next that I could feel his pleasure with my pain, and vice versa—! When I grasped that Kerse would also feel every shred and tear as if it were happening to him, too, and that he would *still* go through with this, he wasn't going to stop, because he wanted this so much...I lost any self-control.

I started screaming long before we got to the barbs at the base. He allowed it and did not silence me. Perhaps I was screaming for the both of us.

******

(Earlier)

The dark silhouette warmed her bare feet in sun-splashed, red sand. She stepped to her left and turned to look out over the far horizon, the land that seemed to have no end. Her dress was white, a stark contrast to the bare skin of her elegant arms and shoulders and throat. The cloth fluttered in the dry breeze.

Then she looked back at him.

*Either now....or in another millennium.

*The sacrifice will be you, and those few whom you truly know. Or it will be given to another at a future time.

*But it will happen, one way or another. Believe me, Consort, it will.

*You can't all hide down there in the dark forever.*

For the hundredth time in as many years, the Consort currently stationed at House Itaun had ripped himself out of his reverie, gasping in sweat-soaked sheets. Like every other time, he had known he wouldn't be returning to sleep any time soon.

Unlike most of the other times, however, he arose and went to his vanity without delay. He reached into a drawer for a bloodstone given to him long ago, that he hadn't used in years. He clasped it tightly in his right hand.

"Shyntre," he whispered. "Brother. Answer me."

*****

(Present)

*Nno...nno, nno...!*

I had thought, in my delirious state, that when he withdrew, when pain spiked viciously and pleasure rose and fell abruptly, that the gate had been opened. I had thought that he didn't need my body anymore, he was done, and somehow I had survived, I had won, if only for the short time that it would take me to bleed out. I already knew I lay in a puddle of it.

I heard a high and loud scream of pure, hot anger. I almost thought it sounded familiar. Or it could just be the calls of the Abyss; I could see them being very good mimicking those voices one knew best.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!"

"Jael! Damn you, stop!"

"Brilliant tactician, that one."

"Shut up and shield her, mage!"

"Yes, Lead Sister."

My lids were so heavy to lift, but I managed to peek and make out Kerse crouching over me still. He was splattered with blood from the waist down and the white stripe of his mane stood straight up in spikes as he roared an answer to the intruders in the form of a magical blast that stopped any immediate assault.

"Jael, you up?"

"Yeah. What the fuck are those?"

"They're wings! Don't you know anything? Gaelan, break the circle!"

"Lead?"

"Do what he says!"

So there actually were intruders. It wasn't a trick of the Abyss.

Within a few seconds, something that may have been a small bolt from a crossbow pistol exploded at the edge of Kerse's circle and near my head. I managed to turn and see a thick, viscous fluid filled with fine particulates spread rapidly over several of the runes as if they'd caught fire, and watched it dissolve some of the salt. 

Next I felt aching pain flow across my chest as the magic began to collapse; I felt loss, isolation...yet I might have a chance to live and I couldn't believe a team had actually come to help me. But the anger and encroaching despair from Kerse that swarmed me through the still-existing bond sapped away any elation, or hope.

The Draegloth howled and took an aggressive stance over me, clearly ready to meet the next comer head-on. He ground out something I didn't understand and at nearly the same instant I heard a blast strike and a familiar curse in the direction of my rescuers.

"Keep those shields up, potion pusher! Gaelan, Jael, flank him and try not to get hit in the teeth. Force him away from her."

At first, that wasn't happening and Kerse wouldn't move. For a brief moment, Jael fully engaged Kerse within my view and with even more fury than I'd witnessed during her trials. She'd become faster than she had been, and she was pushing herself hard. I saw her sword rip through one of his newborn wings and I threw back my head and screamed at the same time he did.

"Kerser'in'chowcz, haganidtezj!" The youngest Red Sister took advantage of the twin cries to shout that command she'd learned from Qivni. She seemed briefly surprised when it wasn't instantly effective. 

Fortunately for her, the Draegloth also hesitated as if he was surprised it hadn't worked as well. It was just enough time for Shyntre to hit the half-breed with his own concussive blast, finally forcing some distance between his body and mine.

It didn't help my mind, though. I felt every strike that Jael and Jaunda landed as they flanked him, and I could do nothing but moan in agony with my head pounding a double beat. I had begun to wonder why I hadn't bled to death already. I almost wanted to. Was Kerse was keeping me alive?

Probably. He still needed me, after all.

"Where is it? Sirana, where is it?!" Shyntre demanded, kneeling down next to me and fumbling with one of his gems.

My mouth was open but no words would come out. My vision was fading fast and though I blinked, I couldn't see any waves of energy, I certainly couldn't make out the wizard's face. It was as if someone had Called Darkness around us but I failed to see the tactical advantage in that. My ears, however, remained sensitive in spite of my rapidly weakening state.

"Jaunda, he's got a talisman! You kill him, she dies with him! I heal her and he heals, too!"

"Fucking lovely," my Lead growled. "Do the minimum! Stop the fucking bleeding! Then find a way to break that spell!"

I think the wizard pressed something very small into my palm, though I could barely feel anything else that wasn't happening to Kerse by this point. Eventually I felt warmth seeping into my body that settled deep in my core. The sensation of my life draining away slowed, then ceased, and my vision began to return at a slug's pace. I felt no stronger and still could not move, but I was breathing more regularly.

"Sirana!" The mage shook my shoulder as if that would help. "Can you hear me?"

My eyes shifted toward him, and that was good enough for him. I could see again the life energy within his face, however it was completely blurred and I couldn't make out his expression.

"Where is the talisman? Does he have it?"

My eyes looked downward toward my feet, back up at him, flinched the next time Kerse was cut, then looked down again. Still a quick thinker, Shyntre understood and, to his credit he didn't hesitate to start searching through the puddle of blood.

The mage lifted up first the loincloth and I looked away from it. Dropping it, he searched more and found the smaller cloth, now completely soaked through, the shimmer of life within my blood steadily fading from it. I stared at the cloth and didn't look away.

"Confirmed," he said and began working with it on the floor next to me, where I couldn't see what he was doing.

Kerse knew, however, and he spoke another blast spell to get the Red Sisters off of him so that he could turn and charge Shyntre straight on.

"MAGE...!" Jaunda bellowed with shortened breath, and almost too late.

He jerked his head up and his eyes widened. His quick evocation talent saved his life as he flicked two half-gestures and Kerse collided with a magical shield. Shyntre stubbornly maintained his concentration and pushed back when the Draegloth tried to force his way through. The wizard remained on his knees and low to the ground.

Trapped by the shield and with Drow at his back no matter which way he faced, Kerse had no choice but to sprint off to the side again and gain distance for another attack. His next blast was for Shyntre but aimed too high because he was trying not to hit me, too; it gave the three Sisters the chance to close with him again. I moaned a loud protest when they hurt him again, when they hurt me.

"Gaelan, I need a boost!" the mage yelled.

Jaunda ordered, "Go! We got it!"

Gaelan soon fell to her knees in front of Shyntre, who grabbed her face in both bloody hands, the only place he could make skin contact. She gasped audibly as the wizard aggressively took the power he needed from her.

"Pick up the cloth," he commanded.

She did.

"Spit on it, it needs some of your saliva."

Hers?

"N-n-!" I tried to say. *No, you damned wizard! Don't pass it off onto her!*

Gaelan glanced at me, and the horror of my condition was reflected in her face. I watched her spit on the cloth knowing full-well the high risk she posed to herself. Shyntre certainly wasn't going to risk it, but it was his knowledge and ability that might push the bond hard enough to break it. Gaelan was there to absorb the inevitable backlash. If Shyntre failed, though, she would get tangled up in it with me.

*Don't. No! Wait!*

Shyntre cast his spell, chanting with hands still planted on her face. I felt metaphysically hard jerks inside my head and chest, as if an invisible grappling hook was attached to each, almost the way the Duergar had once caught Jael's leg. The mage was none too gentle as he hurried to free me.

I felt Kerse cry out in denial and try to hold on to the fraying connection. *Ssirranna, hhellp uss!*

I might only be able to describe my immediate reaction as "solidifying" my heart and my head, desperately trying to hold on to the barbs buried there.

"Fffuck, Sirana, don't help him!!" Shyntre growled hoarsely; he was trembling from unseen effort. "Let go!"

Jael jabbed a knife into my side and I screamed, as did Gaelan.

*Sirana, no, that's not you. Let him go,* I heard her plead. *Look at me, Sister, remember me. If it's too much, take it out on me like you did before, when you were new to us. I'm still here. That's my role!*




Sufferance Ch. 14



*No...*

I'd grown...far beyond needing to do that to her. 

I could face my own trials.

I had to concentrate on Gaelan's pain-streaked face to keep myself from further helping the half-breed preserve the bond. Shyntre increased the magical strain seven fold in one vicious push, and it finally snapped and Kerse's shriek reverberated in the cavern. 

My Sister screamed as well as she absorbed the resulting burst of energy for us, saving both me and Kerse a fair amount of added pain.

My hand groped, clumsy and uncoordinated, for Gaelan's thigh. I slapped it when I found it, trying to get her attention as Shyntre finally took his hands away from her. She wasn't caught in my place, was she...?

She trembled but looked at me, at my next even more pitiful smack. She smiled a little bit. "You're moving..."

"K-kill him," I croaked weakly. My throat hurt from screaming. "W-won't go back...changed too m-much..."

Shyntre nodded though Gaelan did not seem to understand what I meant beyond the first two words.

The wizard yelled out to Jaunda, "She's free!"

"About damned time! Gaelan, on me!"

The younger Sister responded to the summons, though I was concerned about her response time now as she stumbled to her feet.

"R-range, u-use range!" I stuttered after her. I didn't know if she heard me.

Shyntre kneeled to place himself in between me and the fight, which was dragging on far too long for it to be a good thing. He focused hard, provided shielding for both himself and my Sisters, letting some be destroyed to raise another in their place, but he seemed also to be looking for an opening.

"D-don't you dare sh-shoot into melee," I said.

He didn't look at me but maintained his concentration as he spoke. "If they look like they're going to lose, I will. Kerse will kill us next."

"Kerser'yn'czael..." I whispered almost without voice.

Shyntre glanced at me before quickly looking back. "What?"

"He's t-turning more demon."

Shyntre snorted softly. "Yes, the four arms, wings, and horned dick were *very* big hints, Sirana."

I shied away from picturing Kerse's member right then—I still hurt everywhere and below my waist was the worst. I couldn't even roll over. I focused instead the wings, and those smaller arms...

It reminded me.

"I-is he holding... a c-collar in one smaller h-hand?" I asked.

"A collar?" Shyntre tried to see but shook his head. "I don't...know... Where would it have come from?"

"M-mindflayer... kept prisoner here. Kerse removed it."

"What?!" My wizard was beyond aghast. "They kept a mindflayer hostage? How could they be so stupid?!"

Leave it to him to blurt out the painfully obvious yet least useful judgment at a time like this. I wanted to roll my eyes but that would've wasted energy I didn't have anyway.

"WIZARD! SHIELDS!" Jaunda roared, and Shyntre got back on his role.

"You can't die, Sirana, you're the only witness!" he said.

Oh. Joy.

I may not have been actively bleeding then, but I knew my body was far from working properly. I couldn't last like this indefinitely; sooner or later the internal organs would start to fail from the sustained bruising and tissue already destroyed that remained unhealed.

"You b-better hope they hurry, w-wizard."

At that, Shyntre finally remembered his healing gems and fumbled in a pouch with one hand without looking to set one down between us. "Can't hold the shields and use one of these at the same time, but maybe you can help. Take it. Just hold it. I'll watch for an opening to say the command word."

I let me fingers scrape for the gem. I finally found it, and I clutched it as well as I could. It was cool and hard in my palm; it wasn't active yet.

Why had I thought of that collar, anyway? It was something...something that had gone through Kerse's mind just before the link was broken.

Something about being able to choose, at any time. His choice, if nothing else.

"He's d-drawing them in," I said. "He can take...a-all of us with him."

Shyntre didn't look at me. "How?"

"Collar... p-powerful enough to hold an I-Illithid...."

The mage's attention was still on the fight, which was now edging toward us. He gasped.

"I see it! JAUNDA, FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

Kerser'yn'czael came briefly into my straining view. He was severely injured as the Red Sisters had stopped holding back on him once he and I had been separated. He knew it was only a matter of time now and used his formidable strengths both physical and magical to snap the collar into two pieces.

All the magic released at once... A retributive strike.

The last thing I knew was Shyntre throwing his body over mine as the shock wave deafened us and the explosion shook the cavern. Then the rocks began to fall.

*****

I became somewhat aware, but I could not remember why I had not been before then. The room was dark and quiet except for the sound of soft shifting over a smooth surface.

Soft.

Everything was...soft.

The bed. The blanket. The pillow.

Soft lips.

Soft touch.

It hurt. Everything hurt so badly and someone was touching me.

"N-nooo..." I moaned. "No m-more..."

"Shhhh. If it hurts, it is finally healing. It is a good thing."

Through gritted teeth I choked out, "L-liar..."

A chuckle, and even that was soft.

"Return to reverie, Sirana."

*****

The next time I seemed to rise up again, it wasn't pain I felt, but fire. I was flushed, hot, sweating. Someone was with me, on top of me, lying between my thighs. His prick was inside me and he helf my hips to the mattress with his weight; my legs clasped tightly to him, my ankles hooked on his thighs.

My body ached, but only because I needed more. Much more.

I clutched at his back and dug in my fingernails so he couldn't get away, and he moved faster inside me, thrust harder; he kissed me, gasped for breath and moaned quietly. I licked at his mouth and gathered him closer for a deeper kiss, his long hair spreading across my hands. I moved my hips against him, undulated in a way I might never have again if not...if not for...

If not for what? I couldn't think past how perfect was the pleasure washing through me. I was not sure I'd ever cum so hard as when he gasped a passionate cry and spurted inside me.

And he was willing to give me more. He would do anything, and what I most desired was to feel his semen filling me up and dripping out of my sex.

I already knew that it would provide me with a calm I would never have otherwise.

I rolled us so that I could be on top, and he made an adorable, encouraging sound as I straddled him. I grabbed his wrists and pinned them by his head and he arched his back eagerly.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Give me more," I demanded, equally breathless.

*****

How heavy reality can seem when magic eventually drains back into its pool or withdraws behind whatever veil that held it.

I opened my eyes to a low-burning candle and long shadows waving at me from the walls. My first sensation was being warm and comfortable; I lay on my side in a Noble bed with a fine woolen blanket keeping the draft off of me. I was struck by the absence of pain at about the same time as the heat source behind me, which cradled me from neck to thigh. There was a lax arm resting on the curve of my waist.

Some vague memory of being held this same way by someone or something else spurred my heart into double time and I felt sick for a moment. I breathed deep and slow, trying to still my quivering stomach. Eventually I was able to lift myself and rise up to a sitting position. The Drow behind me did not awaken, even being so jostled; he rolled onto his back more by accident, his face relaxed and eyes closed.

I looked down at myself, folding back the blanket, letting it slowly sink into my mind that I seemed...whole. No injuries, nothing was broken or missing. I had been given a cursory cleaning, I thought, quick because of the odd smear or two of dried blood that colored my skin, my hair, and stained underneath my fingernails and toenails. A small amount of color also dotted and streaked the fine, white sheets, although my bedmate seemed much better scrubbed.

I touched my belly and my thighs and...touched between them gingerly, anticipating pain.

I felt none. I was whole. Healed. My sex was puffy and very wet, but there was a stain on my fingers that was not blood, and as I lifted them in front of my eyes, the subtle glow implied a mix of life energy. I had not simply woken up from an intensely erotic dream; I had coupled with someone.

Why did I have the certain feeling that this was a bad thing?

Finally I stared at my bedmate. He was beautiful but looked haggard even in sleep, as if he'd been under a lot of stress recently. He may have been about three centuries old, and yet...yet, he had a solid gold streak in his hair that ran back from his right temple. Gold did not normally start appearing in our white hair until our fifth or sixth century...and it certainly didn't tend to come in singular, broad stripes like that.

I knew him, didn't I?

I looked around the dimly lit room. How did I get here? I had been injured, the story was there on the bloodied sheets and my skin, but now I had been healed. I felt warm and strong and very glad to be alive.

But I couldn't remember my name, or that of my companion.

I was safe for the moment but how long could I rest here? I didn't know if anyone was looking for me, whether they had ill intentions or not. I had no knowledge of events to help me prepare to meet them.

*Maybe I should go. Just go now. Figure it out later.*

I slipped out of the bed and it felt strange putting weight on my feet for several moments, as if it had been a sensation to which I was unaccustomed. However, my body worked properly and I moved carefully, quiet as possible, searching for my clothing. It had to be here somewhere.

*Nowhere on the floor or chairs.*

I moved to look inside the wardrobe, pausing in front of the mirror and wondering why it seemed familiar. Not my face, I looked how I thought I should look even though the blue eyes I knew were odd. But the structure itself was familiar. I shrugged it away and looked inside, frustrated to see only male clothing.

*Definitely not my place, then.*

I wasn't exactly against the idea of sneaking out naked, it didn't bother me in and of itself, but the lack of knowledge would make it a disadvantage to me. No supplies, no tools, no weapons or armor...

Weapons? Armor? I was a fighter, then. So where was my stuff?

My beautiful companion drew in a deeper breath suddenly and his legs shifted beneath the blanket as he rolled over, his hand questing out where I had been. His reach came up empty, and his eyes fluttered open. As he sat up, I was struck how his face changed from peaceful to wary.

"Sirana?"

I blinked. *My name?*

Yes, it sounded right.

"Where am I? Who are you?"

He looked confused at my questions, but only for a moment. Understanding seemed to dawn in his copper eyes the next instant. He kept his voice patient, smooth, and calm. "You are in my room, at House Itlaun. You call me 'Auslan.'"

My heart began pounding harder all of a sudden. This was bad. "What happened?"

He swallowed, and my eyes were drawn to the marks of passion on his throat, as if someone had been biting or sucking on his skin. That someone had probably been me. 

"One of your Sisters brought you here. You needed healing, and she had been told that I could heal you. She commanded me to do so. I think she is still waiting up on the roof, it has only been a few marks, I think."

A lot of this was starting to make sense, it felt right, but my stomach felt so tight and I still didn't remember how I'd become so injured.

"Where are my clothes?" I asked.

"You had none when you arrived."

I briefly clenched my jaw. "And what injuries did I have when I arrived that needed healing?"

Auslan's perfect, arched brows came down when he frowned and he shook his head. "That is not important now."

"Yes, it is. It might tell me what happened," I said, my voice raised in anxiety.

The male Drow clearly had reservations about telling me, but I repeated it as a brusque command and did not relent. Ultimately he answered my question matter-of-factly, as a healer would.

"You had bruising on your arms and legs from what I think were rocks or something similar but that was the least of it. No broken bones. It looked as though you had been...assaulted with a phallic torture device. Horrid internal injuries and loss of blood. You were nearly dead. 

"No sign of restraints used, no marks on your wrists or ankles and yet also no defensive wounds on your hands or arms. Nothing under your fingernails except your own blood. I think you'd been briefly dunked in some water given that you should have been covered in blood."

I felt my body trembling and it only got worse as I felt my eyes widen as far as they could, as if my vision was large enough to see it all at once. Everything came back to me in a rush: Wilsirathon losing control of her son, the Illithid breaking free, Kerse sprouting wings and me unable to fight him...the ritual, and the rescue. Shyntre covering me, and the explosion. I felt added fear for my Sisters who had come to retrieve me...who could be dead right now, except one it seemed. Which one?

My mind was overwhelmed by it. My head swam and my knees buckled. I collapsed onto the floor with a mourning cry that I didn't recognize sounding in my ears.

Auslan surged out of the bed and kneeled next to me. After a slight hesitation, he gathered my weight up with a grunt and wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight as he could against him. I was still shaking too hard to be of a mind to push him away; my hair fell into my face as I tried to use him as a still point for my spinning head. He waited for what seemed a long time before the shakes lessened even a little.

"You will have to report soon, Sirana," he whispered. "You do not have much time to recover from this, and I am sorry for that. I did all I could."

This brought to my mind—amid painful memories and flashes of red and black—the white of his wrap and his sheets, and the gold light of the candle...and of that odd streak in his hair.

Auslan had never had gold in his hair before. He wasn't old enough.

"What did you do?" I asked breathlessly, my forehead resting on his shoulder and my hot breath bouncing back at me from the skin of his chest.

The Consort was silent for too long and I had only begun to notice the odd, enhanced warmth deeper down, low in my belly. It felt tight and magical and alive, as if someone had placed a fire-warmed bloodstone in my gut, in place of my womb.

I lifted my head to glare at Auslan; he looked wary again but didn't draw away.

"Tell me you didn't use your fertility magic," I said.

He swallowed. "That is...how it works. The only way I can use magic to heal."

A cold, dull horror formed in my chest to counterbalance the new heat in my abdomen. My voice shook. "Y-you couldn't have used one of your healing potions? I know you have them!"

"I tried that first, Sirana. You were tainted by something," he answered with strained control; he was trying not to panic like I was. "They were not working, and you were dying."

"I don't believe you!" I spat, finally pushing him away and collapsing heavily onto my arms. The fear, the flashes of cold and heat that spread through me now stole any strength I'd regained.

"The taint felt the same as when Curgia miscarried, only stronger," he said stoutly. "You had to be purged and there was no time to research anything else. You are lucky I had the power to do it."

"Should've just let me die," I cried, not thinking clearly. "You've killed me anyway! Kerse is dead and Wilsirathon may still live and I w-will go to the Sanctuary before they execute me!"

For a moment he looked shocked but then his expression became blank and controlled, and he did not reply. I wanted to strike him, to take all my anger and fear out on him and force some kind of honest response from him. I did not want to have to look at that mask of his!

It was an unwelcome realization when I thought slightly beyond my own misery to other possible consequences, and a few reasons why he was holding his tongue.

"Did *she* instruct you to do this?"

"No," he answered immediately and without looking away. "Wilsira did not. I told you the truth the first time. Your Sister demanded I heal you somehow, but she did not know what finally worked and, again, there was no time to take you anywhere else."

I squinted at him. "Have you decided your fate, then? You are ready to die as well?"

His eyes lowered, drifted along the floor before lifting back up. "The options were not ideal... once it all began. Fail to heal you and face the Sisterhood....or save you and face my Priestess. I had thought that you would choose whatever kept you breathing for a little longer. I chose the same for me."

It was my turn to be silent. 

Auslan hadn't chosen poorly as I considered it a second time...there just had been no way to undo what had already happened. When I wasn't taken over with fear, I still held that there was always a chance to turn things around. In fact, the presence of my fear now was a prime example of that; the odds had been stacked incredibly high against me even having this conversation with the Consort and feeling these unwelcome, conflicting emotions.

Lolth had to be chuckling in such smug satisfaction inside her parlor.

"Is there...any possibility I didn't catch?" I asked. "Any chance that it had the opposite effect, like you've mentioned? Made me barren instead?"

Auslan hesitated but shook his head. "You were barren when you were brought here. There had been too much damage. Also, I...know when I've healed a broken womb, and I know when a ritual is successful. It is part of Lolth's Gift."

I huffed an ironic laugh. From scarred to fertile to scarred and back again. If I had to go through *that* multiple times, I wished at least that I could remember the pleasure better!

Almost on cue, Jaunda slipped into the room through the laundry shoot. I saw her over Auslan's shoulder and started. He instantly whipped his head around behind him and gasped at the intimidating figure. 

She was in uniform and her face and stance both looked hail and healthy, but a large portion of her reds and equipment had been badly damaged; scorch marks and soot streaks as well as rips, breaks, and tears. She didn't have her original cloak; she was wearing a much more discreet grey one that did not look as though it had been put through the grinder, though also like she may have stolen it from somewhere.

Her hair had been cut extremely short as well. It had never been really long, but now it was hardly longer than a fingernail. She had no burn marks that I could see, but it was likely her hair was so close now because it had been set aflame.

Seeing the evidence of damage, I knew the only way she might have survived that blast at that close range was, first, if she had taken the slow-acting potion before the battle...and second, had had the opportunity to quaff the life-saving one soon after the blast. Lolth had seen fit not to kill her outright.

My Lead pulled out a small black bag and a ball gag.

"I've heard enough," my Lead said quietly as she came closer. "You going to cooperate, pretty boy?"

Auslan started to shrink away. "W-what? I do not—"

"Wait—" I said.

Jaunda kneeled and firmly pushed the hard black ball between his teeth and secured it behind his head; he made only one small sound of protest. Then she snapped the black bag over his head and cinched it shut, using it as a hold to push him belly down onto the ground. He was silent and didn't struggle as she tied his wrists together behind his back. She also took the time to stuff all his hair up inside the black bag so it wouldn't show.




Sufferance Ch. 14



"Got you some civilian clothes and a cloak," she said to me brusquely. "They're tucked in the false panel in the shoot. Get dressed now."

Shaken, I obeyed her order, hardly able to think past the moment. Jaunda saw fit to put a distinctly non-Consort wrap around Auslan's waist before hauling him up and pushing him toward the shoot. He had been amazingly quiet; perhaps he was simply that scared.

"What are you doing, Lead?" I asked after slipping on the plain shirt and pants, stuffing my feet into the plain boots before donning the cloak.

"Use the hood, cover your face," she ordered, doing the same. Then she added, "Simple. He knows you're pregnant, so he's not talking to his Priestess any time soon. Gives our Elder more options before the dung hits the ceiling. And it's about to in a big way."

My mouth gaped. Auslan had started trembling.

"Here, keep him upright," she said, setting him to stand next to me, "while I take care of a few things."

I watched as she searched the room quickly, picking out several empty healing bottles from the waste bin and adding them to a larger, generic sack she had located somewhere. Next she added in several of the relatively plainer articles of clothing from his wardrobe. She found all his unused vials as well, healing and prevention and possibly others, seated neatly in two padded boxes. She took the entire boxes. 

I had long since begun to understand that Jaunda was taking enough things from the room to imply that the Consort may have left on his own. A runaway. Though I had not heard of one doing so before, that didn't mean it had never been attempted.

The Sisterhood was stealing one of the Sanctuary's Consorts. I couldn't believe it, yet some part of me was glad that he was going with us and I didn't have to leave him here. It was also smart not to leave loose ends.

Finally, Jaunda found a bloodstone in the vanity, eyeballed it, and stalked over to us. She set the bag down with minimal noise and then her hand darted out beneath Auslan's wrap to seize him by the testicles. He hadn't been expecting it and jumped, hunched over and made a muffled, plaintive sound. 

I was struck by a strong need to protect him, and I felt the impulse to actually *punch* my Lead sweep through me. I quivered with the high effort that it took to resist it.

My Lead had her mouth near Auslan's ear and she spoke low and strong through the black bag. "I've got a bloodstone here from your chest of niceties. Yes or no, can this be used to track you? Answer honestly."

He deliberately shook his head, his balls still clutched in her fist although she didn't seem to be squeezing hard quite yet.

"You are saying, no, it doesn't track you," she repeated.

He nodded in agreement.

"Is it dangerous in any way?"

He shook his head, "no."

"Mind if I take it?"

Auslan hesitated, but shook his head, "no."

"Good. Does anything track your whereabouts?"

He nodded again.

"Is it something that can be removed?"

He hesitated, then nodded.

"Physical?"

A negative.

"A spell?"

A distinct affirmative.

"Got it." She let go of his scrotum, added the bloodstone to the bag, and looked at me. "Let's go."

*****

It had been a challenge to discreetly lower Auslan down from the roof with him bound and blind, even in light of the fact that he knew better than to struggle lest he be dropped. Jaunda and I had to work together and it was a slow task to purloin the grandson of Lolth from the Itlaun estate. He was tense but ultimately cooperative, and eventually we go to the two lizards waiting a fair distance from the manor. 

Auslan went with Jaunda and I mounted by myself. He had been laid on his belly over the saddle in front of her, and I couldn't help but think how I'd once been carried exactly so by a Red Sister as well. With his whole head covered and the basic, almost servant-grade wrap he was wearing, he wouldn't look like anyone of importance from a distance. Neither would we.

As we got moving, Jaunda used one of her message pellets. I didn't know what message she sent, but I could guess it had been to our Elder even if I knew not what she would say. Or had already said. Jaunda had been waiting a little while from what Auslan had told me, stealing clothing and hiding out—she could have been updating D'Shea as well. It would have been hard to justify not doing so.

We were not headed in the direction of our cloister, the Tower, or the Court, but only seemed to be taking the long road out, figuratively speaking. Jaunda guided us through field and rock and used what dips and crevasses were available to avoid being seen from any distance.

We had covered a lot of ground before I finally thought it safe enough to pull along beside my Lead and sign to her, *Gaelan and Jael?*

*Alive,* she gestured shortly.

*Where?*

*Sent them ahead to D'Shea.*

*The wizard?*

*Sent him with them.*

*Alive?*

*Yes.*

I phrased my next question carefully. *Why did you determine it necessary to bring me to House Itlaun, my Lead?*

Jaunda expelled a breath, slowly and quietly. She was brusque as always. *After the blast, there was nothing to spare for you. Everyone used everything on them to save their own life first, even the wizard.*

I nodded. That was how we were trained; I felt no surprise or disappointment, regardless of my past action on behalf of Jael. *How was the option broached?*

Her mouth curled into a sneer. *Shyntre made a persuasive case, just as he did to convince us to search for you in the first place.*

I stared in disbelief. *He...what?*

*Somehow he knew where to look.* She shrugged. *He was right. I figured he was right about the Consort, too. Didn't have any better ideas or the time.*

I felt myself tremble on the inside. It echoed over and over in my mind: I was pregnant because of that idea. *Do you think Shyntre knew what would happen?*

*If he did, I'm going to toss his robed ass out of the top floor of Phaelous's Tower,* she signed. *But he mentioned the potions, and I heard this 'Auslan' say he had tried those first, and we all knew he'd be discreet. Those are the only reasons he's not dead yet.*

I fell still and thought it over more, trying to regain my discipline and my focus in front of Jaunda regardless of how weak and shaken I felt on the inside. I had noticed so far on our journey how easily distracted I was whenever Auslan moved his head or shifted and breathed loudly enough that I could hear him. Seeing Jaunda gesture the name that I'd given him had a somatic effect on me as well, but... I could still think past it, so...

Maybe I wouldn't end up as he'd threatened, to have a fate similar to Curgia's...?

How had Shyntre known where to find Kerse and me, anyway? How had they made it there in time?

*Wait...back up...*

Jaunda cocked a brow, expectant.

*D'Shea didn't send you?*

Jaunda shook her head. *Bad timing, gone somewhere. Rausery, too. Shyntre came to the cloister, found Gaelan first who saw fit to lead him to me. He was tense than I'd ever seen him, and I've seen him pretty up-tight before.* 

She smirked at the joke but then it faded. *He was oblique at first but he uncovered that I knew about Kerse's odd behavior around you, he told me directly that the Draegloth was going to kill you unless we moved then.* My Lead frowned some then. *He was...persuasive.*

My brows rose up in disbelief. *He used a will spell?*

Jaunda actually grinned for the first time since she'd come out of hiding in Auslan's room. With her short, almost fuzzy hair, it made her look younger than her four hundred. *He knows better. He simply challenged me to sit and wait until we heard from Wilsirathon, and that I could knowingly let her have the first move over D'Shea. He was so confident, and the Leads and Elders already know he's magic-smart, especially for a male. I took the challenge. Gaelan insisted to go as well.*

When she paused, I interjected, *Jael was there, too.*

*Kind of surprised how much you were aware,* she commented. *If you hadn't been screaming, I'd have thought you dead already when we arrived.*

I swallowed but ignored that and persisted, *Jael?*

Jaunda breathed out and scanned the area again as she had been doing regularly. *Can't explain that one. She caught up to us about halfway and wouldn't go back.*

*She saw you head out?*

*Don't see how. She nearly killed her lizard how hard she pushed it. Had to have left long after we did.*

*Surely she said something?*

Jaunda thought about it, her eyes narrowing with memory. *Only that, no, Qivni hadn't sent her, and she owed you this. Again, I don't know how she knew.*

We fell still after that, lost in our own thoughts as we kept on the move. Eventually we sensed that someone else approached and Jaunda muttered, "At last."

Elder D'Shea met us within the circle of a rock outcropping, far out afield but not quite to the sentry border. Her face was set and determined and she neither spoke nor signed as she slid off her mount and went directly to pull the Consort off of Jaunda's lizard. Auslan made a muffled sound of fear as Jaunda helped her lower him to the ground. I clutched the reigns and had to work to slow my breathing when my heart rate picked up dramatically. As Jaunda dismounted, so did I.

*Watch her,* D'Shea signed to Jaunda, throwing a look in my direction.

I felt my face burn with heat but tried to stand steady; I sort of already knew why D'Shea had given her Lead that order. Knowing didn't change the outcome, though.

D'Shea lifted the hood off of Auslan, his chin and much of his face wet from his own saliva as the ball prevented him from swallowing effectively. My internal distress spiked as she gathered up his hair and gave it a twist at the nape of his neck. She withdrew an obsidian dagger and cut off his hair in two quick slices. The sound of despair that he made caused my chest to hurt, though I clutched my arms about myself and stood stiff and tense.

*No, no...not again, not another bond, I hate this...*

My Elder next grabbed what was left of his hair and used it to force his chest against one of the boulders so he was kneeling with his hands still tied behind his back. He struggled a little but D'Shea didn't dawdle as she spoke a few quiet, magical words and dug the point of her obsidian dagger into his back, just to the left of his spine between his shoulder blades.

*No—!*

Auslan's body jerked and he made sound even around the gag, and that was when Jaunda had needed to seize me and drag me back, covering my mouth with one ragged, gloved hand to keep me quiet.

D'Shea chose to ignore my insubordination as she continued her slow cut about a hand's length long and vertical down the Consort's back. He was bleeding freely and quivering from the pain but did not try to jerk away again. 

The tip of the dagger started to glow a pale blue inside his flesh and the Elder Sister slowly withdrew her weapon as if coaxing the glow to follow it. Still held tightly by my Lead, my eyes wide, I saw that was almost exactly what happened. The magic seemed to stretch out in a thread like so much syrup, connecting the obsidian dagger to the open wound, and eventually the blade absorbed all of that glow. Auslan went slack as the pain seemed to stop and all that remained was the oozing knife wound.

I watched my Elder burn the Consort's length of hair and then smother and scatter the ashes with her boot as she sheathed her dagger. Auslan had settled onto his hip and leaned against the rock, breathing hard through his nose and looking drained. Jaunda still held me though I had stopped fighting her.

*Release her,* D'Shea signed, and her Lead obeyed.

I caught my feet but felt tremors still passing through me from the aborted surge of violent energy. I faced her and it was obvious my Elder was not happy with what she saw but she was saving it for later. Jaunda replaced the gag and the hood to cover Auslan's face after he'd regained some breath, and and D'Shea stood between me and the bleeding Consort.

She signed to us, *They can't track him now. Back to the cloister. We don't have much time and I still don't understand what all in the Abyss happened.*

I winced inside. The Abyss *was* what happened.

*****

D'Shea sent Jaunda ahead to make sure we could get Auslan into the cloister without eyewitnesses. The fewer Sisters who knew he was here, the better, at least for now. The Prime would always have the wards telling her how many bodies passed through which door during a cycle and whether they were Sisters or not, but she was not one to hand out information lightly. The Lead guided us through one of the lesser used back doors after sending a message via pellet when the hall was clear.

Only the fact that Auslan's blood would have eventually started dripping onto the ground or would leave little glowing arches from his bare feet did D'Shea see fit to wipe the Consort's wound with a mild topical healer while still out in the field. He was very surprised by the fact that the healing process actually hurt with that less refined potion, and it left a raw scab rather than new skin.

My Elder kept most of her attention on me during that event, and the part of me that wasn't demanding that I pay her back that unnecessary treatment was instead weighing the benefit of remaining stoic versus simply showing my Elder how I was being affected. 

Knowing her as I did, I knew D'Shea would systematically increase the strain on Auslan just to get me to react, to find exactly where the breaking point was...but she could also simply punish us both as she saw fit whether I showed it or not, and my reactions would be the gauge for what hurt us most.

I found myself at a stalemate. I had needed to wait until we got to the cloister and D'Shea showed more of her cards.

Now, the three of us plus the Consort moved into one of the smaller interrogation rooms not far from where Rausery had tested and trained me against her subordinates. There was a simple chair for one Drow to sit down, but the rest had to stand or sit on the rough stone ground, or be chained to the wall. A Sister could sprint across the room in three or four long strides, and the ceiling was high enough to hang a chain or any contraption that used the large iron hooks already anchored above our heads.

D'Shea set what had to be a powerful privacy spell given how long it took her to complete it. A few small beads of sweat were on her forehead when she turned around and watched us all with a flinty gaze.

"I'm not sure why we haven't been summoned to the Palace yet, but let us get through this at least once. Sirana, in as few words as possible, what happened at the Sanctuary before Jaunda left to find you?"

I distilled it down as best I could while trying not to glance at the hooded Consort every few moments. "I drugged Wilsira with lenathum to get her to lower her defenses. She went insane with jealousy instead when Kerse refused once again to couple with her. I hadn't known that was going on or I wouldn't have used that particular drug on her."

My Elder was staring almost as if to bore holes through me. "Why was Kerse refusing her sex?"

I swallowed. "He didn't want her to see how he'd changed. He wasn't ready yet, but she forced the timing."

"Timing of what?"

"To capture me and free the Illithid in the Drider cave."

Auslan reacted to that one with an uncomfortable shift and D'Shea hissed to herself at the necessity of keeping him near enough to hear all this.

"Why...would he do either of those things?" my Elder asked slowly, as if I needed it to understand the question.

"The Illithid started it," I said. "It gave Kerse the concept of separateness from his Mother. It was only a matter of time before it offered a deal with him. Kerse accepted."

D'Shea looked shocked and very worried for a moment. "And was it freed? Did it escape?"

I nodded while feeling a great amount of fear for being the messenger here. "Yes, it did."

"Did you try to stop it?"

I felt just a little dizzy for a moment. "I...couldn't, Elder. Kerse had had the time to create a talisman with that cloth I'd thought I dropped. I couldn't move or speak unless he...told me to. The only part of me that still seemed to work was my mind. The Illithid was willing to talk a bit, but it was mostly gloating and enjoying my helplessness."

"And it didn't attempt to kill either you or Kerse? It didn't try to feed on you?"

"It...wanted to. I think it was wary of Kerse, it was too weak after its captivity, and the Draegloth was strong and magical enough to remove the collar around its neck."

D'Shea cursed softly, propping one elbow and holding a fist before her lips as her mind worked at a furious pace. "So it took the opportunity to leave, and Kerse let it. Why would the Draegloth do that?"

I looked down at my feet briefly. "To make more trouble for us later."

"He gloated as well, then?"

I shook my head. "No, not so much. Kerse was very quiet when he wasn't growling. But we were linked through the talisman for hours, Elder. I eventually learned what drove him. He wanted to cross over to the Abyss and leave us to our fate. The Illithid could lift the mental blocks on his form and that was part of the deal, one release for another."

She stared at me. "So it was as Gaelan said, then, Kerse was going to sacrifice you to open that gate."

I felt relieved that I hadn't needed to say that part. I nodded. "Yes, Elder."

"And his...changes...?"

"Many. He grew wings after the Illithid was freed. He had a secondary set of arms already; he'd formed those sometime between the worship ball and my escort mission."

D'Shea quirked a brow. "How do you know?"

"I think...I felt them touching my stomach one time when Kerse's main hands were...otherwise occupied."

Jaunda gave me an odd look but our Elder waved it away. "Very well. Any other changes?"

I hated the horror and shame I felt then as I glanced at Auslan still hooded and quiet on the floor, then back at my fierce-looking Elder. "What he had been hiding from Wilsira. His male parts. They'd become...demonic. Like what the Priestesses ex...experience."

The Consort reacted to that one as well; perhaps, after growing up in the Sanctuary and seeing other Priestesses' scars, and tending to my wounds not long ago, he could well picture what I was talking about. D'Shea, unfortunately, insisted on a more clear description, however, and I stammered through it brief as possible.

"It only happened in the past few weeks from what I heard Wilsira say, how long he had been holding out," I finished.

My Elder paced a little bit and ended up on our prisoner's side of the room with her boots very close to his head as she looked down at him. "And you, Consort, were somehow able to heal such damage."

She nudged him with her boot, and he shook his head with a muffled moan. Before Jaunda or I could offer to do so, D'Shea kneeled down to tug the hood off his head once again, his shorn hair falling readily into his face. She also removed the soggy gag, but was none too gentle considering how stiff his jaw had to be. He moaned and grimaced as he gingerly closed his mouth, licking his lips and swallowing repeatedly.

"Look at me, Consort."

Auslan did so, his fear evident but he made eye contact nonetheless.

"What do we call you?"

He hesitated, considering quite a few names or perhaps the best approach. "Whatever you wish, Elder Sister."

D'Shea smirked. "I understand one of us has a preference for 'Auslan.' Do you like it?"

"If it pleases you, Elder."

"You're avoiding my questions, Consort."

"That is not my intention, Elder."

"Of course. You're one of the 'yes, matron' whores, aren't you? You have no thoughts of your own, isn't that right?"

He was caught on how to answer—to agree or show her otherwise—and he glanced at me. That was the first time D'Shea struck him, kicking him in the ribs with her boot. I started and lifted my fists almost without thinking but Jaunda grasped my right shoulder hard in her hand.




Sufferance Ch. 14



"Don't," Jaunda said shortly near my ear. Of course, she was right.

"An interesting side-effect of your healing, don't you think, Consort?" D'Shea asked, her anger evident in her voice. "Have you ruined one of my Red Sisters in more ways than one?"

Auslan gasped against the pain in his ribs and eventually lifted his chin again to look up at her. "Elder Sister?"

"Have you caused her to conceive?" she asked another way, slowly, so he would understand.

"Y-yes, Elder Sister," he answered.

"For certain?"

He trembled. "Yes, Elder..."

"I see."

Another strike; a kick square in the gut. He curled up and she landed a glancing hit on his head next, snapping his neck back and he groaned. She'd ripped a small gash by his temple and I could see red start to stain his hair. 

"You fucking whore."

She walked around behind him were his peasant's wrap rose up on his thighs; she could likely see his nudity beneath. She aimed carefully with her next kick and by the violent jerk and wail he'd cried, she'd struck him in his genitals.

"Elder!" I growled hoarsely with Jaunda still holding me. My mind was on fire watching her hurt him for no other reason than because he'd saved me, as Jaunda had commanded him. "Kerse is dead. You said we don't have much time before the Valsharess could summon us. Kerse and I left Wilsira in the forming room tangled in webs. If you've had this spare time, it's likely because she hadn't managed to free herself soon enough!"

D'Shea reacted both to the anger in my voice and my mention of that pit of a place beneath the dungeon. I saw the haunted look pass so briefly on her face that it could have been an illusion, but I was willing to draw on it nonetheless.

"She was likely down there still when she felt her son die," I said with a sly, mean smile. "Appropriate, don't you think?"

The Elder kept her face impassive and shook her head. "You are trying to distract me from this."

"What is your point, my Elder?" I ground out, leaning forward even against my Lead's tightening grasp. "I am slow to see how beating the Consort helps our immediate concerns, but even if there's a reason, there is more to consider."

"Oh?" she challenged, lowering her gaze.

"Yes. When Kerse and I were bonded through the talisman, it took more power and focus and determination not only on Shyntre's and Gaelan's part but on my own as well to break it. They needed my help, and I was willing." 

My voice became more aggressive. "I'm *not* so willing now to endure more pain only on account of your frustrations. Auslan has kept his agreement with the Sisterhood for almost two years, and he only did has Jaunda commanded him. He is knowledgeable even without the Priesthood, better alive and intact than broken or dead. Provided we finish off Wilsira, there should be time yet to determine the best way to deal with these...these *urges* of mine. Meanwhile, just let him be!"

My breath was ragged and I stood trembling at the force of my conviction, almost unable to believe I'd taken such a tone with her. Jaunda was dead silent behind me and not interfering beyond keeping me from moving forward to close with D'Shea.

It seemed my Elder was as surprised as either of her subordinates. She tilted her head and approached me slowly, leaving Auslan where he was for the moment. Her copper eyes glowed with anger and suspicion as she gazed at me.

"I hear you, Sirana. However, know this: I have no use for a Red Sister who cannot control hers reactions around a specific male, knowledgeable or not. If we win this battle and yet your behavior around him does not change... he dies, or you do." She paused significantly. "*After* you give the Priestesses your child."

I couldn't speak for the white-hot burn that spilled into my chest and I stood shaking with almost unmanageable anger. I nodded with effort and silently thanked Jaunda for never letting go, for holding me back.

Someone chose that moment to begin pressing at the ward on the door. D'Shea might've heard something more specific than my general sense that someone wanted to enter. She moved to the door and, after putting her hand on it a few moments, allowed it to slide open long enough for Rausery to step in holding Jael by her also shorter hair before closing again.

The taller Elder was at ease and confident as she strode in with the aura of a natural leader. The youngest Sister was not fighting the tight grasp on her scalp, though she had her lips pressed together and her expression said she was well aware that this was not the most prideful way to enter a room with rival Sisters ready to see. 

Jael wasn't wearing her reds; she been redressed in her earlier blacks—possibly due to extensive damage to her actual uniform, like Jaunda's that looked like a thousand creepers had been chewing on it.

"Ohhh, this is going to be fun, D'Shea," Rausery said with unmistakable glee in her voice and on her grinning face. "I can't wait to hear how you're going to handle this one."

Her eyes swept the rest of us and she tilted her head at my completely missing uniform and substitute drab clothing, along with how plainly roughed up Jaunda appeared. "Looks like you two fared even worse than the novice here."

Finally, she noticed the Consort lying still bound on the floor and blinked at him. "Hm. Is that what I think it is?"

D'Shea had pulled herself together and presented a very solid image for her peer. She kept her chin high, her face placid, and her stance the once I remembered upon first seeing her. "That it is."

Elder Rausery frowned a bit, letting go of Jael's hair and letting her stand by her side. She folded her arms almost in reprimand. "Since when have we needed to steal the Priestesses' pretty little sluts, D'Shea?"

"Since one learned far more than he should have."

"They'll just track him."

"I've taken care of that."

"Oh, have you?"

"I know how they do it," D'Shea said. "And I can undo it."

"Any reason to think they won't look at us anyway?"

"This one, as I understand it, isn't very loyal to his current Priestess. She wasn't aware of any connection he had with us, and for all anyone knows, he simply vanished. Walked off on his own."

Rausery shook her head. "And is now somehow untraceable. D'Shea, they're going to be looking at you."

"You and the Prime are both going to be helping me dissuade them from looking closer."

"Ha! Yeah?" Rausery grinned. "Do tell."

"He's Wilsira's pawn. And she's begun to fall. If there was ever an opportunity like this before, Rausery, I'd have taken it."

"That much of a squealer, eh?" Rausery asked skeptically; she knew D'Shea was hiding something. However, she decided to go after the juicier meat of the conversation. She gestured to Jael. "Baldy here tells me the son-fucker is half dead already but also that we're in deep dung because she helped kill a Draegloth without a queen's writ to do so."

"If there had been time to inform her, she would have granted the writ," D'Shea insisted. "Kerse had grown into a powerful threat and Wilsira has been hiding that fact from us all. We'll have her pinned."

"You'd better hope so," Rausery commented wryly, then nodded toward me. "So you saved our prime witness, but Wilsira will be desperate. She'll throw all she has left at us. If you don't include me in on some things, I can't watch your back, sweet sorceress."

"I always give you confirmed, useful information, Rausery."

"Redacted and scrubbed squeaky clean." Rausery chuckled. "Shyntre mentioned the Illithid escaping. That's right up there with killing a half-breed without an order. I've already sent a tracking team out, but let's figure out how we're going to hold up against that one, too, while we're at it."

"Less our concern. Auranka's Drider was killed by the Draegloth, and the *Priestess's* ward was broken. Where is our failing? The Red Sisters arrived even before Auranka's team and stopped Kerse from completing his plan, and you've performed first response."

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, sorceress, but aren't the Priestesses' wards tailored against those of demonic blood particularly? Standard practice, as I understand it, to prevent exactly outcomes like these. So who broke it?" Rausery's deep red eyes slid to me. "I understand our studious survivor has become rather good at that task."

D'Shea looked at me as she didn't seem to have an immediate reply. "Well, Sirana?"

Jaunda had no need to be holding me back and had taken her hand away a while ago, but in an odd way, I wish it was still there. "Yes, I was made to break it for him, Elder."

"The talisman?"

I nodded, not able to keep my eyes level for long. "I was lucky he instructed me to breathe and swallow on my own, Elder."

Rausery whistled low. "That powerful?"

"Unfortunately," D'Shea said.

"How?"

"Does it matter?"

"If this can be done to any Red Sister, then, yes, D'Shea, it does," Rausery said gruffly. "And I want to know about it."

My Elder shook her head. "Kerse had time and the opportunity. I'd been too focused on Wilsira's apparent aim to impregnate her on that trip. I didn't know it possible, but I believe now that his coupling with her multiple times laid the foundation for his binding spell. He would have known her very well."

Jael looked very uncomfortable, even a little disgusted. I found it hard to care; there were a few individual things that no one else knew about Kerse, not even his mother, that were now deeply planted deep in my memory. I knew why it happened, but didn't see what else I could have done with what limited knowledge I had at the time.

"New rule, then?" Rausery said. "No repeating half-breed fucking?"

D'Shea shrugged. "This was not a regular occurrence. But yes, now we know it's possible."

Yes. Now we know.

Rauery jerked her chin toward Auslan. "If we're holding on to this one for the time being, maybe stash him until later, unless you think he knows something the Prime ought to right now?"

D'Shea readily declined. "No, he can go to solitary. If we have time before going to the Palace, I'll question him further." She began to gesture to Jaunda.

"Think we need the Leads in on this, too, D'Shea," Rausery interjected. "Let Jael do it. It's a simple task."

I saw a stubborn line in my Elder's back and she grudgingly looked at me. "Sirana, you go with her."

Rausery chuckled. "What? Don't trust me?"

"I know you better than that."

Jael and I looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, but went to lift Auslan from the ground, one of us on each arm. The scent of these two mixing in proximity was simply cruel to me and I swallowed as saliva quickly formed in my mouth. Even in the circumstances, it felt good to touch Auslan's skin and he may have even relaxed a little himself.

The ward on the door had to be an impressive one, because even D'Shea didn't realize that Shyntre had been waiting outside until she'd stepped out into the hall. I could see how her reaction was every bit as much physical as it was mental; I thought for an instant that she was about to vomit, though this was mostly because I knew what to look for now.

The wizard had looked at Rausery first, meaning to say something, but jerked in surprise seeing Auslan and the patch of blood staining his hair and face from the kick of D'Shea's boot. The anger boiled up in his face and he completely missed his birth mother's moment of weakness before she, too, threw up an angry wall in her defense.

"Rausery, get him out of here!"

"Why? He's a resource and a witness, isn't he?"

"Send him elsewhere while we talk," she snarled, refusing to acknowledge him directly.

I could see how that got to him. The Elder didn't have a chance to reply before Shyntre demanded, "What have you done? Why is this Consort here?"

Rausery's mouth quirked at them both but she looked at the wizard, thus missing the way D'Shea had needed to touch her hand to the wall to keep herself upright a little longer.

"Not my doing, boy. Ask her."

He flagged a hand in our direction but turned toward D'Shea. "He succeeds in bringing a Sister back from the brink of death and this is how you repay him? By abducting him and beating him?"

"Rausery, we don't have time for this," D'Shea hissed, her voice sounding like it was shaking in rage though I knew that was a cover-up. She was in violent discomfort.

Rausery was going to let it go on, I could tell, but I looked at Jael and pushed Auslan into her so she would hold on to him. I came forward quickly to grab Shyntre, who wanted to resist as usual but he nearly lost his feet with the force of my pull.

"Let me go!"

I ignored him for the moment. "I'll talk with him, Elder. You and Elder Rausery go see the Prime. We're no doubt running out of time."

"Do that, Sirana," D'Shea said before Rausery could belay my direction as she glared at her peer.

We left them behind as I encouraged and sometimes pushed the other three down the dark hall, silent as we gained distance. Shyntre stopped fighting before too long because, I thought, he knew he had the opportunity to talk with me and Auslan without either Elder around—he just had to deal with Jael, a Red Sister he didn't know.

There was a great deal of storage area beneath our main barracks; most of it was for equipment and supplies, but one hallway shot straight out away from everything else, a near-straight line with a few cells on either side, only five in all. 

A small, warded stone door would slide to one side with the right command—apparently Jael knew it, as did I—and a vertical height of iron bars stretching from floor to ceiling formed visible separation between captive and captor for each cell. The captor was still able to see every corner of the confinement room; there was no place to hide from view.

The room did contain a small cot as well as a small stone basin for washing or drinking. It filled itself by way of a trickle of fresh water from our main source upstairs and was designed to stop automatically when it had reached a certain level rather than overflow. I believed it was more construction and engineering than magic that made this happen; something we had probably picked up from the deep gnomes over the years.

In addition, there was a second basin intended to manage all waste; the less hands-on tending the Red Sisters had to do to keep a captive alive—if that was the intent—the better. The only thing that lacked any means of regular maintenance was food; someone would be assigned feeding duties, but it was rarely the same Sister twice in a row.

This was all assuming we had anyone we wished to keep alive, such as a Red Sister in solitary confinement for one reason or another or, as in the case here, a witness we wanted to hide away. At the moment, Auslan would be the only one down here.

I knew of another small clutch of rooms outside of the barracks, intended for harsher punishment that would lead to death eventually, but it was surprisingly rare that we chose to use that over simply sending the doomed prisoner to the Palace or Sanctuary dungeons. Both of them had more bodies and servants to assist with running such a prison, including everything from skilled torturers to mongrels scrubbing filth off the walls.

The Red Sisters were much fewer in number and we tried not to rely on servants. Thus, we had to do everything ourselves, even the basic cleaning. It made us very selective in whether we took on a prisoner of our own; there had to be a good reason.

D'Shea had a good reason to hold on to Auslan, and the Consort was lucky we were just putting him down in the basement. From the look on Shyntre's face, he was aware of it and...relieved on the Consort's behalf.

"Release his hands before you lock him in there," the wizard said to Jael as she opened up the door.

She glared at him, withdrawing a blade to slice Jaunda's straps; she did so in one cut and pushed Auslan solidly through the door, quickly closing it behind him. "And who in Lolth's name are you to be telling me what to do?"

"He just likes to point out the obvious, Jael, pay him no mind," I said, moving to where the Consort had come to the iron bars, stiffly rubbing his wrists and massaging feeling back into his arms. He looked as saddened as I'd ever seen him.

"Sounds like he didn't get enough slaps in the jaw growing up," she commented, facing him. "Doesn't know when to shut his mouth."

I could practically feel Shyntre vibrating, hearing that from someone less than half his age. I sighed inwardly. Just lovely. I waited a little longer, and to my surprise, the mage kept his mouth closed and made no reply at first.

There had to be a strong motivation for that. I turned my head to look at him.

He was already looking at me. "May I get the Consort something to keep him warm, Red Sister? There is more cool moisture down here and he's wearing very little."

That was a good point. I removed my own borrowed, grey cloak that Jaunda had gotten from somewhere and passed it through the bars. Auslan didn't refuse the offering, bowing his head slightly and wrapping himself in it. It covered most of him and I was almost sorry for that.

Shyntre relaxed a bit. "May I retrieve something to clean his cuts and get him some food, Red Sister? I can do so through the bars."

"Didn't realize this was an infirmary and an inn," Jael grumbled. "Shall I get the wine and blooms as well?"

"At ease, Jael," I said softly, feeling conflicted and tired. "Guard him while I escort the mage to get some basic supplies. We won't be long."

Jael agreed tersely and Shyntre had no hesitation in following me back upstairs.

"What happened? Why is he here?" the wizard asked as soon as he had the opportunity, as I knew he would. "You're alive. You look hail. It must have worked."

Oh, yes, it had worked. My gut heated up again at the vague memory I still had of Auslan climaxing inside me; then my stomach got nauseous as I thought next of the seed that had been planted.

"My Elder decided he knew too much and, with a trip to Court inevitable, she doesn't want anyone to interrogate him."

"Except her," he added harshly. "Why beat him? He did nothing wrong, he only did as he was told!"

I shook my head and kept silent.

"Why did she cut his hair?"

"So he couldn't be tracked."

He scoffed. "Did you try to help him?"

"As I could, because he did help me. However I'm far from the highest ranking Sister, Shyntre, you know that."

We had reached a store room and it contained what we needed: a kit containing among other things plain, clean cloths and a mild solution for cleaning wounds, and some of the high-nutrition rations we collected which lasted a long time on the shelf. He collected the cleaning supplies, and I picked up a few bags of the food. Three would last six cycles if it was rationed well, maybe longer for a non-fighter like the Consort.

"I understand he was a playmate of yours growing up?" I broached the topic because I didn't want to make a mistake in my distracted state and say something I wasn't supposed to have known.

He frowned at me. "How would you know?"

"Wilisirathon mentioned it on our trip," I said, keeping my story consistent. "Casually. But you seem quite concerned for his wellbeing."

"I dislike watching the Red Sisters abuse those weaker than them," he said with teeth bared. "He could also be quite valuable if you put your minds to it."

I smiled wryly. "Suggestions, mage?"

"Nothing you haven't already thought of, I'm sure. He knows Wilsira, knows a great deal of the Sanctuary, the Draegloth, and much else about the Noble Houses where he's stayed. If you're going to keep him here, I can't see you giving him back any time soon, so it's better to keep him healthy and cooperative, isn't it?"

I nodded slowly. "Healthy, yes. What do you suggest about his dreams? I understand a Consort has to experience reverie emissions regularly if he's not being bred."




Sufferance Ch. 15



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 2013

And so this is the final chapter of Sufferance as many things are addressed, and we transition to the next story. Thank you for coming this far! 

*******

Chapter 15

During the crash debriefing, D'Shea had stood apart from us and let Rausery do the talking, her arms folded and her mouth pursed tight. Everyone knew it was because Shyntre had to be present as well but only two truly knew why she would not compromise even on the distance.

The fact that D'Shea still couldn't stand being near the mage was proof to both of us that Wilsira was still alive.

The Prime had gone ahead to the Palace before Jael and I had arrived at the briefing room, and Qivni had not yet arrived. She had been leading the team that had been sent out after the Illithid, very soon after Gaelan, Jael, and Shyntre arrived back at the cloister to report. We were waiting for them to return.

In the most practical sense, we couldn't have left right then, anyway, whether or not Qivni had been there. We all had needed to be redressed and outfitted; Jael and I wore the black uniforms again, Gaelan and Jaunda wore familiar-looking "borrowed" reds. We were given useable belts, some tools, and weapons for those that had been destroyed by the blast, and neither Jaunda nor Jael's hair really needed to be braided again; it was too short on both of them. Jael's hair seemed to have fared better having some modest length, as if Jaunda might've been providing partial shielding for her when they were hit.

The Valsharess, we were told, would actually prefer to wait a little longer for proper, respectful presentation, and she was well aware of the chaos that had broken loose. While it would be in Wilsirathon's favor to have us rush to the summons without collecting all the evidence, the Prime had seen to it that we make it worth the queen's while and have our act together.

With luck the Priestess would be in even less control over herself for having to sit brooding, quite alone for once and with her mouth closed, for the Valsharess would not be interested in listening to broken, mourning screeching.

This was all hearsay for me, of course, but I would have the opportunity to see whether this held true in practice....unfortunately. I did not look forward to facing that cunt Priestess again so soon for one simple fact: there was plenty of political blood flowing and ready to gush. It would draw every single Drow aware of it and poised to grasp for power over others as it shifted, and I was bleeding as badly as any of them.

I could not get Kerse's suicide or Auslan's captivity out of my head, some part of me ached for both of them despite what they'd done to me, and I could not long forget how vulnerable the Consort had made me in order to keep my heart beating. Furthermore, Shyntre possessed a card that I did not know what he would choose to do with it.

He wanted my help, he said, but I could also see how much he hated D'Shea. He would know it was she who was keeping the secret because Rausery hadn't mentioned it once in the briefing nor looked at me at all like she knew. He would also understand better what I'd meant when I said I was not in position to be as much help as he thought.

Shyntre could easily use my new condition against D'Shea, although I doubted it would give him any measurable reward with Wilsirathon—he had helped to kill her son, after all. The consequences of giving me up, however, would no doubt doom Auslan, who sat almost patiently in his cage. 

The question was, which did the wizard prize more: his "brother" or his own lifelong hurt and humiliation from a mother who wouldn't acknowledge him? He may never get another opportunity like this, or if it looked as though he was going to be executed anyway for his actions against Kerse...then that might be his final chance to hurt D'Shea. The figurative sword held at Auslan's throat might not be enough to stop him.

I expected that I would find out only when facing the queen.

I did not have many cards in my own hands. I had unwanted empathy for Wilsira's loss and I questioned my ability to remain stoic upon seeing her—not a good thing. I wished Auslan to be safe from the whips and Feldeus of my Sisters—also a deplorable weakness. And... I was simply frightened, because I was pregnant, and I didn't know whether I could have any choice of my own regarding what became of me, other than a similar path that Kerse had followed. The chances were very slim in favor of my having any choice at all.

Rausery's plan gave me confidence in her, doing what she did best, but I trusted my instincts and experience that there were still a few things she hadn't shared. Jael had utter confidence in her, it was obvious—I thought perhaps the youngest Sister didn't even think she'd done anything truly bad and her leaders would speak in favor of her and protect her. 

By contrast, Gaelan betrayed a definite fear for the coming trial as she stood beside me. With D'Shea not participating in the discussion, as if she had already said all she would to Rausery and giving us none of her own thoughts, it did not inspire Galean to have confidence in her Elder. I wasn't sure that I did, either, even knowing her reasons—perhaps especially so.

What good was D'Shea if she couldn't talk clearly at this most important time? Hadn't she thought it a possibility that when she at last got her chance to act against Wilslira, she still couldn't speak about her real vendetta? Sure, I might speak it, but she couldn't confirm it and claiming a psionic bond to get the information not only required a lot of explaining, but was information I did not want too many high-ranking Drow to have. 

Making it worse, Shyntre's presence prevented D'Shea from using even her usual strengths. My distraction by Auslan was nothing compared to how Shyntre affected D'Shea. Such distraction was deadly, we all knew that.

I heard what was being said but some of it didn't make any sense to me. Why would either Elder risk D'Shea's behavior? Why tolerate it?

"Is there any possibility we could leave the wizard behind?" I asked, and he shot a vicious look at me.

Rausery only quirked her brow. "No. It was his divination spell that started this whole mess. The Valsharess will want to see him."

Is that what he'd told her? *His* divination spell? Not a certain breeder with a vision...?

Then again, my wizard had needed to explain his actions somehow, and it seemed he wasn't going to reveal Auslan's gift so publically. How uncharacteristically sacrificial of him to take the entire responsibility himself!

Yet he'd also offered me "anything" to help protect the Consort. I supposed that I knew enough now to bet that, if Shyntre would be allowed to live, he would keep his mouth closed about my pregnancy because it would endanger his "brother" only more.

What I didn't know was what he would do if faced with execution, and I would not have much time to react.

A summons came at the door, and Qivni's team returned at last to provide more information and help refine the details of our testimony.

"What did you find, Qivni?" Rausery asked directly.

"The body of a gnome with its cranium split, Elder," she said, matching her. "Sucker marks, brain matter gone, all characteristic of an Illithid. It had eaten before we found it so we returned quickly. We could have tracked further but—"

Rausery shook her head. "No, you did right. Not enough defense if it revitalized itself. Anything else of note?"

Qivni nodded at her support, three of whom stepped forward and each poured the contents of their black sacks across the table. I recognized my equipment immediately and felt warmth overrun my face; I'd been helpless to stop Kerse from removing every item and placing it far from me. Having it spread before me in its sorry state only enhanced the feeling of shame.

Qivni explained, "Suna and Oreth stayed to search the rubble before any of the Priestess teams could arrive. The rest of us tracked the Illithid. They found these buried all in one spot, and lot of bloody rocks on the other side of the cavern, along with a blood-soaked loincloth. It looked to Oreth like a protective circle or shield had kept the stones from being scorched and that's why the color was still there."

Rausery glanced at Shyntre, who nodded to confirm, and that apparently was all that the Elder needed. She next rooted through the badly-damaged pile and lifted out a familiar sapphire pendant with a broken chain. 

She smirked. "Odd finding this here. Drop it?"

Shyntre blinked but responded to her expectant look with a shrug. "No, Elder Rausery. The last I saw that was when I gave it to Sirana at House Itlaun."

"Who turned it in to D'Shea." She looked at her cohort standing farther away with a stony expression on her face. "Isn't that what you told me?"

My Elder took a subtle, steadying breath. "I studied it and returned it to Sirana. She can use it."

The other was a little annoyed at the lack of update. "Didn't realize she had much magic to use."

There was a bare shake of D'Shea's head. "It's better that she doesn't. It absorbs arcane and divine power, draws it in. It doesn't affect her but it would affect a mage or Priestess trying to use their power near it. It blunts it by siphoning off a fraction. Other than that, it is non-offensive."

Except... that it had seemed to stabilize my psionic link with D'Shea, hadn't it? It had seemed to convert her power to one that...perhaps I could use? Was that what had happened?

Shyntre gave me a look, clearly grasping now why his paralysis spell hadn't worked at the time we were tussling on the floor at House Itlaun. I found myself smiling back at him, just a little. The memory still gave me a feeling of contentment somehow.

Rausery grunted. "Interesting. Why her and not any other Sister who's also not a mage?"

D'Shea pursed her lips. "From her trials. Trust me, it's useless to any other Drow. Interesting also that the mindflayer didn't discover it."

Rausery was the only other one in the room who would have gotten the reference.

"Gotcha." She asked no more questions on that and made eye contact with me before tossing me the pendant. I caught it. "In that case, I'd love you to wear that at the Palace, Sirana, but keep it hidden."

"Yes, Elder."

"Wizard, you have a spare stretch of leather, don't you?"

Shyntre obeyed without words, finding a length of leather tie from his own pouch of materials and arcane tools, handing it out forward me. I took it, and just about everyone but the Elders looked confused and suspicious as they stared at me. I ignored them and replaced the broken chain with the leather thong, settling the stone once again around my neck and hiding it beneath my armor.

"Did your team find a gold ring as well, Elder?" I asked, and I caught an overly clueless expression on one of Qivni's team. My gaze shifted to her.

Qivni noticed it as well. She bared her teeth at her and slapped her subordinate upside the head. "I said no skimming, Suna!"

"I didn't realize it was part of her tack, Lead!" The younger Sister fumbled to take off her left glove and slip Callitro's ring off, dropping it into Qivni's palm.

Rausery snorted and looked sadistically gleeful. "Spider dung, Suna. You were digging through rocks for equipment recovery. I'll leave your punishment in Qivni's hands, as it was she whom you disobeyed and I don't have the time, but meanwhile—" She gestured for Qivni to return my ring to me.

Despite my red uniform being lost to me, the scorched and shredded pieces on the table, I almost felt complete having my two unique pieces back. I was also more curious about Shyntre's blue pendant than ever before. The thought of a few new strengths were a nice distraction from my weaknesses.

"Where's her cloak?" Rausery asked, taking a second look over the pieces.

"We didn't find it, Elder."

"Kerse gave it to the Illithid as a cover, Elder," I said quietly.

There was a twist to her mouth, part annoyance and part wry grin. "Can't say I blame him. The squidheads aren't the most attractive things to look at."

Most of Rausery's team chuckled.

"Nothing else of note, Elder," Qivni said.

"So that covers everything?" the Elder asked.

"No," D'Shea said, "but we're out of time. We'll have to fill in your Lead on the way."

"Let's go, then. Recovery team, you're coming but only speak when spoken to and keep it to what you've said here. Don't mention the sapphire. You deviate, and you'll regret it."

"Yes, Elder Rausery," the four other Sisters said.

We left soon after.

*****

The first of several statements given to me in briefing turned out to be correct: the Valsharess wanted as few additional ears as possible to hear about the Illithid's very existence in our prison, much less its escape. That didn't mean, however, that there wouldn't be many, many more patrols farther out, and magical warnings set in place should an attack be coming sooner rather than later.

Most seemed to be of the opinion that it would be later. Illithids had often proven to be a very patient variety of enemy.

The queen was taking Her audience in a chamber smaller than the one in which I'd once stood to listen to the plans for the worship ball. It was on the very top floor of the Palace and we'd been required to use a teleportation ring in the basement to be at all subtle about the arrival of eleven Red Sisters and an unbound, male mage.

We arrived in twos and threes, stepping off the ring efficiently to make room for the next arrival: the Elders first, the two Leads, the Sisters according to rank, and the mage last. As it was, Jael, Shyntre and I went together.

The chamber itself was opulent. Purple drapery framed complex tapestries, all themed in some fashion after the Spider Queen, although I noticed a few symbols that either reminded me of those images I'd seen on the Draegloth floor or...of the maps of the Surface that Shyntre had shown me in the Tower? "Forest" as it might look in darkness? Although it could also be abstract art. Maybe it was just me.

Furniture had already been moved to three sides of the room, and everyone was to stand in the central part. Our recently-cleaned boots sank into a thickly-woven rug made of interlinking webs in purple, gold, red, and blue shades. Yellowish candles, so thick that I wouldn't have been able to wrap both hands around them, sat in their gold stands in the four corners of the room. The light was not overwhelming and provided more than adequate light for any Drow to see colors, and the candles would last for whole cycles without burning down and out.

There was a comfortable, purple and gold throne set upon a staging area to one side of the room, the decorations both sensual and threatening in their curves of breast and claw. The throne was empty at the moment.

What wasn't empty was the far side of the room, opposite of where the Red Sisters had arrived. Six Priestesses stood there, only two whom I knew by name, Wilsirathon and Lelinahdara. The former stood with two somewhat younger Priestesses at her flanks, almost as if they expected her to faint and were ready to catch her. Lelinahdara was as far from Wilsira as she could stand and still be with her group.

Kerse's mother had been watching for me as the arrivals stepped into the room. Being of the last to arrive, I had many hostile or curious eyes pinning me and watching every flicker of movement. I sized up my enemy in return.

We'd been struggling when last we'd seen each other, and she'd been ready to do something unspeakable to me in the forming room. The lapsed time hadn't dimmed the hatred in her eyes one shade but she looked much older, and much weaker. There was more gold in her hair and some loose skin around her jaw and neck and arms, as if it had lost significant elasticity in a short time. Her hands seemed bonier as well, showing a vein or two, her knuckles were knobbier. Wilsira at seven hundred, give or take, now had actual wrinkles like Phaelous...or the Valsharess.

We stared at each other for several heavy moments and she looked away first, seeking out D'Shea, then Shyntre. They were standing on near-opposite sides of the room as our twelve stood by rank. The Priestess scanned the rest quickly but did not seem impressed as she smirked, and looked back at me.

I felt something sharp stab at my mind and I gasped before quickly forming a mental wall similar to what had saved me from the unnatural Consort on the fourth floor of the Sanctuary. I knew my pendant was glowing beneath my black armor, I could feel the warmth though no light escaped, and Wilsira growled in frustration as her attack receded and the pain ceased.

I kept her gaze, smiling just a little mostly to unnerve her, but also to let go of some of my own fear. If that was the best sneak attack she had left, then losing Kerse really had destroyed her. My eyes swept the other Priestesses next.

They were overall very hard to read. Lelinahdara was calm and confident, and other than lowering a gaze or two in suspicion and mild dislike of the Red Sisters, the others present excepting Wilsirathon simply waited.

It was quite obvious what we were waiting for when it happened.

We heard a subtle shift of stone and a surge of magic, then the Red Sister Prime and the High Priestess, Roshenthanon, walked out from behind a tapestry—perhaps not the grandest of entries but they did not seem to care much as they held it aside for two more figures to come through.

It was the first time I'd ever seen Auranka, the Drider Keeper, though I'd long known of her existence and her Lolth-given task. No longer an actual Priestess, she held the strength of will and divine power to control and direct the empty-souled monstrosities on behalf of the Valsharess. She was also instrumental in transforming those Drow damned to become a Drider; she was the last Mistress any such Drow would ever know.

I figured there must also be something the Valsharess possessed to control Auranka herself but would likely never find out what it was—otherwise I could not understand how the werespider had not attempted a coup of her own by now. With a force of pure hunters like the Driders at her very fingertips, she might have stood a chance and toppling the queen.

I was told that Auranka actually could transform into a figure similar to a Drider—not quite as large or diseased looking, as I understood it, but then, I didn't have a comparison—or an actual giant spider. Now, however, she looked mostly like a regular Drow with bright copper eyes, white hair, and normal skin, with the exception of a few short, stiff black bristles, not unlike the sensitive hairs on a spider's legs, protruding through the skin and laying back her forearms and crowning her elbows.

Auranka smiled almost playfully at the waiting group and I realized with a start that she had fangs like a spider, as well as dark purple spots around her eyes that easily suggested the potential for multiple sets of eyes. She wore a surprisingly simple purple robe-gown like a Priestess except that it was sleeveless to show her whole arms, more muscular than any Priestess, and her white hair was brushed and loose down her back, possessing no decoration whatsoever. She wore no jewelry.

Looking at her, I could think that the Mistress of the Driders was a Drow who would be at home in the wilderness, and some of that thought made sense as I noted the lack of anything superfluous. If she transformed herself, all those accessories would only break or get in her way.




Sufferance Ch. 15



At this moment, however, Auranka simply stepped to one the side of the throne and waited as her queen followed silently into the room to join us.

We all bowed properly as the Valsharess entered wearing the same elegantly venerable, full-body wrap of gold and purple that She'd worn the first and only other time I'd seen Her this close. Her crown was still interwoven into Her solid blonde hair, diamonds and amethysts and rubies glittering in candlelight. Matching necklace, rings, and a bracelet around Her left wrist completed the ensemble, and this time She wore a ceremonial dagger at Her waist.

I still thought She seemed either bored or tired as She sat in Her throne with Her back straight and Her wrists resting on the padded arms of the seat. She scanned all of us with those pale, tawny eyes.

"We understand there are two events whose consequences need immediate redress," She said in Her rich, low tone. "The non-writ death of Wilsirathon's Draegloth, and the escape of a dangerous prisoner."

She looked at the Red Sister Prime, who nodded once and bowed.

"We've determined the sequence of events, my queen," the Prime said. "Further motives may yet come to light."

"Accounts will no doubt vary," Roshenthanon quirked her brow at the much older Prime, who smirked.

"That tends to happen when the holder of one account spends half a cycle lying on a cold floor in a tangle of web," the Eldest Sister replied blithely.

Wilsirathon's body trembled at the Prime's jab, and the younger Priestess behind her touched her shoulder almost as if to give her balance. By the elder Priestess's expression, I could not tell if it was rage or loss which had hit harder. I didn't have any anger to match hers, not even after all that had happened, but—unfortunately for me—I could imagine too well the void she now felt.

The Valsharess held up Her hand to stop the exchange and looked at Wilsirathon. "Priestess, as it was your son who was killed, state your case first. Do not waste Our time with embellishments."

Wilsira shook off the hand holding her shoulder and stepped forward to bow. She took two deeper breaths to steady herself. "Certainly, my queen. You have long known of my affection for my son. I have volunteered his use in Sisterhood trials well, but the one of note was a little over two years ago. He became distracted by one of the newest Red Sisters."

"This happens sometimes," the Valsharess said. "Did you give him what he wanted?"

"I tried, my queen, but Elder D'Shea blocked my requests until she needed a Draegloth again for another trial. Then we were able to make a deal." She glanced narrow-eyed at D'Shea, who stood with her arms crossed and face impassive.

"You indulged him," the Valsharess said. "And which Red Sister was this? I do hope you brought her, Red Sister Prime."

The Prime gestured to me, and I took a step forward from the line with a courteous bow. I didn't say anything. The Valsharess noted me and nodded, looking back at Wilsira. I was motioned to step back again.

"How long before you were able to indulge him?" the queen asked.

"Just over a year, Valsharess."

I was a bit surprised Wilsira hadn't tried to lie about that part, given that Kerse hadn't lost interest as he should have, according to Auslan, but then... it would have been easily and readily disputed.

"Hm. And did it work?"

"It did, my queen. He showed no further interest in her upon having her after we returned to the Sanctuary. He was as he had been before."

My mouth twisted a bit at that one. No, he'd only been biding his time.

"But this is not the end of it."

"No, Valsharess. I had much opportunity to observe the young Sister and was impressed by her. I thought she would make a good candidate for further training as she had a natural ease around Draegloth."

"I can vouch for this, my queen," Roshenthanon interjected quietly. "Wilsirathon sponsored this idea to me months ago."

"And the Red Sister who stepped forward, is that who she proposed?" the Valsharess asked the High Priestess.

"Yes, my queen."

A nod and a gesture to continue. I genuinely could not anticipate what Wilsira was going to say next. Everything so far was close to the truth as I knew it, with a few "tiny" omissions.

"I requested her presence again just four cycles ago, and the Prime granted another short term of service to me by the same young Sister. I had intended to present her to the High Priestess first and, if acceptable, to Yourself next, Valsharess. I soon discovered, however, that she was present only under direction to assassinate me."

Wilsira's voice was filled with utter conviction and she was standing straight, her aura was stronger, as she delivered the last line. In truth, that wasn't too far off the mark but the details would no doubt differ immensely.

"Under whose direction, Priestess? Do you know?" the Valsharess asked, seeming a bit bored still, Her long fingers gently touching Her face as She rested Her chin in Her palm.

"I understood it to be Elder D'Shea's direction, likely without the Prime's knowledge, Valsharess."

I glanced at D'Shea; as she no doubt still felt Shyntre's presence like an illness, she paid the most attention to her expression and her stance, both of which she kept still and calm as possible. She refused to look intimidated, insulted, or in denial of the accusation.

"The young Red Sister, Sirana, drugged me with intent to murder me, but not before using my compromised state to discover a few secrets about our Sanctuary." She flung a scathing look toward the line of Red Sisters. "I shan't go into detail here, but it was where I was eventually found by Priestess Lelinahdara. Sirana bound me in webs and struck my face repeatedly, intending to interrogate then kill me in that room. My son stopped her, but I do not know where they had gone to, or why they left me, except that Kerse must have been trying to defend me."

Her lower lip actually trembled as she took a breath before the last statement. "I felt when he died, when the Red Sisters killed him. I want justice. I want Elder D'Shea's son punished in exchange, as You see fit, Valsharess. It is a fate he surely deserves as his very presence confirms he has involvement in my son's death. I also want this Elder and her servant, Red Sister Sirana, executed for their direct plot against me and their actions which led to the unwarranted death of a Draegloth, against Your own writ, my queen."

The Priestess knew when to stop speaking, but she awaited the signal to step back before doing so. I was a little surprised she hadn't insisted on dominating the stage for much longer than she had, but part of it may have been physical weakness. She looked as though she had lost half her power and youth in a very short time.

I wondered that I could relate to her grief in my mind and yet I felt no sympathy for her or her lies. It was a conflicting, confusing feeling.

"Elder D'Shea," the Valsharess gestured next. "As this is quite a lean against you, the next statement is yours."

This was where I wished I could have taken Shyntre elsewhere; through no fault of his own, he was damaging my Elder's ability to put up a strong, confident front. Though I knew—and Wilsira knew—that she was in fact fighting hard against illness, her voice had that edge of strain to it that made her sound nervous or uncertain. It was just enough to draw the attention of all in wondering whether blood was already in the water.

"I agree with Wilsirathon's version of events up until her claim that my subordinate drugged and attacked her with intent to kill," she said. "Sirana can tell you more of what the Priestess was hiding about her son, as Sirana is a rare one with whom—as has been said—Wilsira 'indulged' herself as well as the Draegloth."

It was a very short statement, not very impressive, but all D'Shea could manage under her taxed state and still seem mostly normal. She looked at me and gestured to finish it for her.

I stepped forward slightly and bowed again to the Valsharess. "My queen, I coupled with Kerse during...three separate occasions over the last two years. Each time, his genitals were different. His form was altering, and his mental state was changing. The Priestess Wilsirathon would have known this; she witnessed and participated in the second occasion. She chose, however, to ignore the signs. I only did not know what the signs meant. It was not me who struck Wilsirathon in the face—it was Kerse. He had finally changed enough to be able to act against her of his own will."

"LIAR!" Wilslirathon blurted, her voice nearly choking on her anger and plain denial. 

The Valsharess held up Her hand in mild irritation. "Continue, Red Sister."

"Kerse had changed so quickly in large part due to the prisoner who escaped." I made sure I got that part out next. "The Draegloth must have come in contact with the Illithid prior to this past cycle, and the prisoner psychically compromised Wilsira's control over her son. I did not leave the Sanctuary under my own volition, I was held captive by the Draegloth's increased magic and he took me to where the Illithid was imprisoned. My Sisters discovered this when they initiated the search for me, and they acted accordingly to stop the threat that Kerse had become."

The Valsharess seemed a little less bored as She put Her wrist back down on the arm of Her throne and tilted Her head at me. "Indeed." She looked at the Priestesses. "Would Kerse have come into the vicinity of the Illithid at any point?"

There was a bare hesitation on the part of the High Priestess and Wilsirathon. However, Auranka spoke then, sounding mildly amused and calm as the queen.

"He would have, yesss, my queen," she said. Her voice contained a natural rasp that surprised me, as if that would be what a spider would sound like if it could talk. "Wilssirathon had vissited the prissoner on four occasionsss of which I am aware. My Drider informed me of her pressence, and the pressence of her ssson."

The Valsharess nodded.

"Why did Kerse take you to the Illithid, Red Sister?" the queen asked directly.

My mouth was dry even though I knew my part, which was essentially, "be truthful," at least up to a specific point that I hadn't reached yet. "To force me to break the ward Wilsirathon had set, so he could let the Illithid go."

Fortunately for us, even the High Priestess looked surprised; we had done a good job controlling information.

"There is no evidence for any of this," Roshenthanon said.

Wilsirathon nodded in agreement, her anger still blazing. "My son's appearance had not changed, that is a blatant lie. And it would be impossible for him to force a Red Sister to do anything against her will!" 

She even laughed a bit. "How weak-willed is this young Sister, then, to be so easily persuaded to break a ward and set a dangerous prisoner free? Perhaps her training has been sorely lacking! I think it much more likely that she intended to act on this the whole time and planned to blame my son! He is surely not alive to refute it." She pointed at me. "If this one has released this ill upon our race and compromised the secrets of the Sanctuary and the Sisterhood both to our enemies, she deserves damnation as a Drider!"

The Valsharess looked to be pondering during the Priestess's rant; at the end of it, She nodded and gestured languidly but was still looking in my general direction. "Being that Kerse himself would not have been able to affect that ward with his demon's blood, I believe he would have needed an accomplice. Why would you have helped, Red Sister?"

"I had no will to resist, Valsharess. The Draegloth had something against me based on the previous times we'd coupled, at Wilsirathon's insistence that I indulge him. If anything, it could have been her intent for her Draegloth to gain magical ability over a Red Sister through ritual and repetition."

"Conjecture," the High Priestess scoffed. "And clearly a contradiction in terms! We know that it requires willpower to break wards. You cannot have it both ways, Red Sister, make up your mind. Either you had will to break a ward that Kerse could not, and therefore were not captive, or you could not have broken the ward if it is as you say."

I swallowed, not sure how to respond at first and I looked at Elder Rausery, who smiled what I thought a beautiful smile as she chuckled and gestured to the wizard. Shyntre slowly withdrew a familiar blood-red cloth from his belt—Rausery had been very pleased that he had kept it even through the battle and cave-in—and all eyes were drawn to the movement he kneeled to present it to the Elder. Maybe more *his* Elder.

Rausery accepted it with a nod and held it up and out toward the Prime. "Our evidence, First Sister, which supports Sirana's testimony."

The Prime accepted it in turn, clearly demonstrating that our chain of command was still in place, and waited that proper moment for the Valsharess to nod before she brought it forward with a bow. To Her credit, She did not seem put off by the stiff, soiled remnant; She fingered it gently, even sniffed it delicately, Her tan eyes seeming to penetrate the blood and see something within it.

As She stared at it, I again felt the subtle warmth of the stone at my chest and I tensed slightly as I hoped the suggested drain was not enough to distract my queen...

"Fascinating," She said quietly. "Do you recognize this, Wilsirathon?"

The Priestess hesitated but ultimately swallowed and answered truthfully. "No, Valsharess."

"Not at all? You do not know what it is."

Roshenthanon shared a look of concern with her, but Wilsirathon had to repeat herself that she did not.

"I smell male seed," the Valsharess said quietly. She looked at the Prime. "Bring me the other sample, Prime, if you would."

The Eldest Sister broke the line and strode over to me, drawing a plain steel dagger. "Remove your glove, novice."

I tugged the black leather glove off and presented my hand, and by now figured what that "sample" might be. As I anticipated, the Prime made a shallow cut on the back of my hand, drawing blood and staining her blade with color. She nodded and allowed me to press my wound as she brought the dagger to the Valsharess, holding it up on the tips of her fingers using both hands. The queen took it and held the blade beneath Her nose as I wrapped a cloth around the cut before putting my glove back on. She did not inhale audibly, but I saw Her eyes flash with power. She nodded.

"Did you teach Kerse how to create a talisman, Wilsira?" the queen asked.

My enemy looked startled, and I was glad to see it. This was her first time standing in a corner: plead ignorance and accept that Kerse had become a threat, or claim knowledge of the teaching and take responsibility for the Illithid escaping. This was the part where D'Shea knew she had her pinned, and the Priestess was clearly aware of it as well. She trembled in impotent rage.

"I...no, Valsharess. I would not teach him something like that. That could not have been created by my son."

"Could it have been created by you, then? Or another? It has Draegloth seed on it. If you wish to confirm, feel free to come forward, though We recognize Kerse's aura regardless."

Wilsira was tempted to claim knowledge of someone else, even herself, making the talisman, but she could not think fast enough on her feet how to justify it.

"A curious link," the Valsharess murmured. "The taste of the spell is such that the male was to be the dominant between the two. A very odd choice indeed if it was not made by the Draegloth."

"I...would have been happy to see that Red Sister humiliated in such a way," Wilisra hissed. "I am sorry I did not see it."

"Yet you were impressed by her and wanted to sponsor her," D'Shea added with a smirk. "Which lie is the first one?"

"You should be silent now, Elder," the Priestess shot back at her, and the cruel slant of her mouth as she flicked a glance at Shyntre drove the point home. "Any real mother would change her mind about any cunt if her son were killed because of her!"

Wilsira looked at the Valsharess and changed her tactics. "My queen, if it is true that my son was compromised by the Illithid, then clearly that creature instructed him on how to make the talisman and use it against that Red Sister! It was not Kerse's fault. The Red Sisters were responsible for setting it loose and destroying the only one who may have been knowledgeable enough to help us recapture it! Had I just been given the chance to cleanse my son's mind, we wouldn't be in this situation. All of this began with D'Shea's assassination attempt, my queen, and she should face the punishment for her failure!"

One delicate eyebrow raised as the Valsharess looked at the Red Sisters. "We should like to hear more about this part. Show Us all involved in the Draegloth's last moments."

The Prime nodded to Elder Rausery, who gestured, and Jaunda, Gaelan, myself, Jael, and Shyntre stepped forward in that order.

"Tell the Valsharess what you observed, Lead Jaunda," Rausery instructed.

I had to admit that my Lead was all grace under this pressure; she didn't even seem to be breaking a sweat. "The wizard came to our cloister as a result of a divination spell that saw one of my Red Sisters under threat. That is all I acted upon, Your Grace, to recover one of my subordinates. I knew nothing of any plot or action taken prior to that point."

"Your Elders did not direct you?" the queen asked.

"No, Your Grace. Elder D'Shea had left on another mission with my usual team, and I had just finished a solo task for her. Elder Rausery and the Prime were not available in the time the mage said we had left, so I made the call to take him and Gaelan and leave the cloister. 

"My plan was that we recover our Sister and deter the Draegloth, then inform the Priestetsses who can control him. Bringing more Red Sisters would have been seen as a direct threat to the Sanctuary and increase the possibility of violence against him. I did not want that in keeping with proper respects to the Priestesses. We only didn't know how powerful he'd become or I would've brought more."

The Valsharess casually flicked a hand toward Jael. "And this one?"

"She was on standing orders to keep an eye on things at the cloister and watch anything unusual. Part of her training, Valsharess. She did that and followed us. I decided to take her along as extra fighting power if needed." She smirked a little. "It turned out to be a good thing."

I could not help but be impressed by my Lead's unflinching acceptance of her decisions. It made her a good leader in the field, even though the more conniving could always try to take advantage of it in a Court setting like this one. Wilsira hissed and took that advantage.

"So you let this slip of a Red Sister loose on my son, knowing she has intense hatred for his kind?"

"At the time, Priestess," Jaunda said without flinching, "it was him or us. And Jael landed more hits that any of us."

I winced inside. That could be construed as skewing the responsibility of the actual death more toward the youngest Sister, if anyone was to be punished for it—and as the youngest, she was the most vulnerable.

"Duly noted," Wilsira ground her teeth.

Our queen held up Her hand, looking more amused as She observed Jael for a few more moments. "Continue, Lead. What happened when you found your quarry?"

Jaunda said, "As we began to approach the cavern where the Illithid was kept, we heard the screaming of our Sister being tortured, long before we got eyes on. 

"We arrived to see the Drider guardian slain, the prison empty, and the Draegloth performing a ritual powered by sexual energy within a circle drawn on the ground. Sirana was in the circle as well, alive but bleeding from the changes to his sex that she mentioned. The wizard told me later that they were similar to what a Priestess undergoes to conceive a Draegloth in the first place."




Sufferance Ch. 15



For once, every Priestess was silent and did not interrupt Jaunda; it would seem they all could imagine exactly that of which she spoke—and without coaching, there was little chance the Red Sister Lead would have known some of these details unless she had actually seen them. 

Unfortunately, most of our opposition would simply assume she'd been coached—but the Valsharess seemed to be doing something else as Her eyes glittered just a little and I felt that warmth at my chest again. Damn, I hoped she wouldn't notice this.

Jaunda continued, "He had other significant changes as well, all demonic. Another set of arms and a set of leather-like wings. We managed to gain his attention and interrupt the ritual, but we only intended to subdue him, Your Grace, to capture him alive if possible. Regardless, we could not let him escape or open the gate that Sirana said was his intent. He told her he wanted to cross over into the Abyss, and she was his altar to do it."

The Valsharess did not look bored now, but I could not say She was horrified in the way that most of the Priestesses seemed to be. Wilsira almost looked overtaken with grief again, and even Lelinahdara appeared as glad as the rest that the gate had never been opened.

My eyes shifted to Auranka, who merely looked as though she was trying to predict which of us would be given to her at the end of the audience.

"Very briefly, Lead, who did what to win the fight?" the queen asked. I thought it was very well-phrased; Jaunda would respond to it with a fine point.

"Shyntre broke the talisman spell. Jael and I kept Kerse busy while he did so. Gaelan assisted both sides, magic and martial defense. Ultimately, though, we did not kill him, Valsharess."

Everyone not in the Sisterhood looked dumbfounded at that outrageous claim. The High Priestess actually laughed.

"You most certainly did!" Wilsira's voice boomed. "I felt when it happened! He's gone!"

Jaunda shook her head and made eye contact with the stricken Priestess. "No. We didn't. He killed himself rather than be taken. He broke the collar that had been holding the Illithid hostage, and the blast destroyed the entire cavern. That is plain to see for any who visit the place now."

There were several loud, incoherent protests against this claim but the Valsharess looked impatient and Her cold stare silenced them.

"Is that why all of you involved look so bedraggled, Lead?" the queen asked in amusement.

With a bow, Jaunda said, "We did our best to clean up for Your Grace, but yes. We all lost our uniforms and most of our equipment. If not for Shyntre's magic, the healing bottles would have burst from the heat and we would not have made it here today."

Jaunda's testimony was strong, I could feel it, and I wondered whether the Valsharess was even a fraction as impressed as I was.

The queen's tan eyes shifted to Shyntre next, and I would have bet his former pendant now around my neck that he was not happy about it.

"Strong magic is required to take down a Draegloth. Sharp blades alone cannot do it," She said almost softly. "Step forward, Shyntre."

He did so, bowing properly, but his form quivered just a little bit. I wondered if he was nauseous as his mother; he was using a lot of energy to keep calm.

"Good to see you here again," the Valsharess said with what I had to consider a sadistic smile. It was an odd thing to say, and I almost thought that She was teasing him like I sometimes did... in spite of that sounding ludicrous.

"My queen," he replied quietly.

"Did your magic kill the Draegloth?"

"No, Valsharess, the collar did. Of my magic, I used shields to protect the Red Sisters in combat, and one or two force pulses to push Kerse away from either me or the Sister whom we ultimately recovered. I also used magic to break the power of the talisman."

Somehow, the Valsharess looked pleased. "A difficult task in itself. Your heritage rings true. You do not omit anything of your actions?"

He shook his head immediately; I would have said he was truly afraid but holding up well enough especially given her compliment just now. "No, Valsharess."

"Why did you cast a divination spell that ultimately revealed these events were in motion?"

"It is...as the first time I stood before you, my queen."

"We see." She asked no further questions.

What was that supposed to mean? I glanced at D'Shea, and she had an odd expression on her face. In light of everything, I could not interpret it exactly. Anxiety, pain, pride, concern...? What had happened the first time Shyntre spoke with the queen?

"Have you anything to add?" She said.

He nodded. "Yes, Valsharess. I would present myself as a witness disputing Wilsirathon's lack of awareness of Kerse's physical changes before these events. I saw them with my own eyes as the Priestess forced the Red Sister Sirana to acquiesce to her demand to slack her son's thirst repeatedly almost a year ago. Wilsira spoke quite plainly of his new 'endowments' in moments of lust. She was aware of them."

"A mere lust dream! Your memory is compromised, wizard," Wilslira spat, her loathing for him every bit as bright as it was for me. "Surely you remember from personal experience the incense. I always use it to strengthen the Drow blood inside my son as he couples with one I would not see injured. I took care of the Red Sister, protected her, and in any case she agreed willingly to couple with him. The incense has hallucinogenic qualities as a side-effect, however, and your own eyes cannot be trusted while standing in the room."

"Is that why a combination of rania, trothum, and web dust doesn't provide an antidote?" he asked dryly.

The Valsharess actually smiled and I trusted my gut at what I thought I saw: the queen liked the wizard. She favored him somehow...but he was afraid of Her.

"That is the antidote, isn't it?" the queen asked, and the High Priestess reluctantly nodded her head.

"Yes, my queen, it is."

"So his word could be valid."

"He's had plenty of time to research that without ever having done it, my queen," Wilisra insisted. "It is not as he says. He dreamed the changes he thought he saw."

Shyntre looked at me, and the queen noticed.

"Sirana. What of your experience?"

I felt my face heat up and I swallowed. "The change felt pretty real to me at the time, Valsharess. A knot at the base. Stretched me the same all nine times and at least twice when there was no incense. Kerse had changed, and I remember the same words from the Priestess about her pride in his...enhanced endowment. If hallucinations can be shared, the wizard and I shared the same one at least four times."

I almost couldn't believe we were discussing Kerse's cock as we'd fucked as a point of contention in this trial....

"No proof," Wilsira said through clenched teeth. "You've all had time to plan what to say. Your Elder to whom you report, Sirana, would have known the significance, yet she took no action. Either it never happened, or she is guilty of ignored the signs as well!"

That was a good point...hadn't D'Shea the opportunity to start the downfall of Wilsira through Kerse long before now? Even worse, D'Shea didn't acknowledge the accusation now; she only stood stiff as before. What was wrong with her?

*No, wait...*

That wasn't how it was.

It was only when I realized the look of confusion on my Elder's strained face that I remembered. Last year, I had chosen not to report something important to her. I hadn't told her anything of my conversation with Auslan, because of seeing Shyntre and Auslan in the garden. She'd said we had to prove Kerse dangerous through his behavior, and I'd forgotten about what Auslan had said about the physical change itself being enough to indicate a danger. And the Valsharess would likely order him killed then...

...perhaps I hadn't wanted it so. Perhaps I'd wanted Wilsilra to come down another way rather than put her son to death.

Regardless, D'Shea hadn't known about it. I was the one who ignored the signs.

*Oh, no.* I'd fucked up.

That was when Lelinahdara smiled, her cunning, green eyes brightening. In my doubt, I'd almost missed it. She took her opportunity then, however, when the Sisterhood was temporarily at a loss to explain.

"D'Shea has a good reason, which we may explore later, but first, Wilsira, what about a similarity to a recent change in the Consorts? I do not believe the Sisterhood knew about that and could not plan to speak of it now."

Wow. If looks could kill...

Even the Prime quirked a brow at the Priestess-liaison before glancing at her two Elders for an explanation. Both of them shook their heads. I had seen one of the strange Consorts nude, but he hadn't had a knot that I saw. My look of confusion was as genuine as the rest.

"Show Us, Tarra," the queen said simply.

"Wait! My queen, wait," Wilsira protested urgently, and in response Auranka straightened up with her nostrils flaring a little. "That one is a mere deformity. It is not the first time we have seen imperfections in our breeding and we always cull those. You know that only a fraction of those babes that survive the process grow to be Consorts."

"This one is a perfect one who lived to be eighty and is ready for breeding, Valsharess," Tarra said confidently. "It is a recent change, but I don't believe it is a deformity. He still functions perfectly well."

"Show. Us." After that Valsharess would say nothing else. She went eerily still, waited without so much as tapping Her finger.

Lelinahdara sent the younger Priestess standing closest to her, who left by way of slipping past the Sisterhood to the circle. We waited patiently for her return, Shyntre shuffling back to his place. Wilsira attempted to communicate something with the High Priestess but all of a sudden it seemed Roshenthanon was trying to gain a little distance from the senior cleric of Lolth. I relished the leaking scent of fear as she struggled against it; so did a lot of others in the room.

Eventually the younger Priestess returned, guiding a beautiful but—as Shyntre had put it—"vapid" Consort, much younger than Auslan. He had white-blue hair and near-matching eyes that were disconcertingly distracted, as if he was listening to music no one else could hear. He was well-formed of course, but wearing a silk-spun blue wrap; he was likely to have been one of the virgins at the next worship ball. He was not the one that had spoken to me but he was one that had run out of the room. 

The Consort seemed bewildered overall and but not intimidated at being surrounded and stared at by a room full of powerful females—quite the opposite reaction that he'd had to seeing just me standing in his doorway. He offered an inviting smile which seemed to have a tangible effect on Jael, Gaelan, and all of Qivni's team.

"What in the Abyss...?" Rausery muttered.

Tarra gestured to the Consort and he immediately went to her, leaving the younger Priestess to retake her place. The liaison put both her hands on the Consort's shoulders and guided him forward to stand before the Valsharess. She remained standing behind him to keep him in place, but she did not make him bow and apparently he didn't think to do so on his own.

"I believe the ritual is becoming unstable and Wilsira has grown too accustomed to things to be able to sense it," Tarra said plainly. "This one has more in common with a thirty-year Draegloth than he does a newly-grown Drow, and he was spawned from one of Wilsira's eggs. It is curious to hear that the knot is common in both this Consort and her wayward son, my queen."

The Valsharess actually frowned. She repeated for the third time, "Show Us."

Tarra leaned to whisper something in the Consort's ear, and he obediently removed his wrap to stand nude. I could see a rather cute hind end from where I stood but not his genitals. I watched the Valsharess and Auranka instead, and their subtle change of expressions told me that they were confused.

"He looksss normal," the Drider Mistress commented.

"Yes," Tarra said. "Not deformed, Auranka, and we agree that is what Wilsira claimed, yes?"

A cunning look passed over the Valsharess's face and She commanded, "Show him ready for breeding."

As if waiting for just that, Tarra reached around and I could very well imagine what she was doing. The Consort gasped softly and moaned, leaning back against her and closing his eyes as she held on to him tightly and sped up her strokes. His hips moved in response and the low growl I heard next was a brusque, conflicting oddity with the delicate beauty of the young male Drow. It did not fit the Consort.

But it did remind me of Kerse.

The Valsharess stared at whatever She saw at first, Her face a placid mask, but soon enough slowly stood up out of Her throne. She seemed to loom over the rest of us though She was not the largest frame here; it was the fact that Her aura surged and we all felt magic collecting rapidly in the relatively close room. I doubted my warming gem was having any measureable effect on it.

"Stand back, Tarra," She said.

The Consort whined in protest as the Priestess stopped touching him and moved briskly to one side. He was immediately struck in his bare chest with a magical blast from the queen's hand. There was a low shudder of energy that followed and filled my ears, and I almost didn't hear the nubile body landing on his back on the carpet. His eyes were wide and he tensed, his back arched a moment as if in intense pain before he stopped moving. He stopped breathing right after that, and the last glimpse of his erection before it faded did imply a familiar knot...

"Have you somehow contacted Kerse's sire, Wilsira?" the Valsharess asked though did not seem to require an answer. "You know it is forbidden. That way is madness."

"H-he gave the inspiration only, Valsharess," the Priestess said, "centuries ago. I developed the Consorts and the method for breeding them after giving birth to Kerse. You deemed it safe, you approved it!"

"Do not lie to Us. This is much more recent."

"You must agree our magic has only grown stronger with the use of the Consorts among the Nobles! Lolth blessed the union with the Abyss long before we came to this place!"

"We know this. Yet when there is evidence he is attempting to change Lolth's race irrevocably, you ignore the signs? There is a reason We do not breed beyond the half-bloods, Priestess. When did you make contact?"

"Valshar—"

"WHEN?!" Her voice boomed, causing even several of the Red Sister to start.

Wilsira looked as if she might collapse onto her knees, though she clasped her bejeweled hands to her chest and remained waveringly upright. "Re-reverie...two hundred and ten years ago..."

"And the first clutch of Consorts after that?"

"W-within the following decade..."

The Valsharess was more alive than I'd ever believed She could be, Her eyes becoming pure gold in Her anger. Her aura seemed to be expanding and making it hard for me to breathe. As I glanced briefly around, I saw a similar effect on others—only some were better able to hide it.

She said, "We have a job for your Sisterhood, Prime."

"I am at your command, my queen."

"Slay every Consort born within the last two hundred years, including all children on the third and fourth floors within the Sanctuary now. Lelinahdara will assist you."

There was a genuine cry of protest from the Priestesses, from all but Tarra who stayed perfectly still.

"No, Valsharess!"

"Our children—"

"The future Consorts, what will we—?"

More than the queen's eyes showed Her anger now as Her face became the most terrifying mask I'd ever seen. She sliced Her hand across the air and they silenced themselves. Or She did.

She continued to speak to the Red Sister Prime while still glaring at the Priestesses. "Each child of the Nobles born directly from a Consort from the last one-hundred twenty years, kill them. Those yet unborn, round up their mothers to the Palace dungeons, we will await the births. Capture the children of any parents sired by a Consort who have matured to bear of their own, and We will watch this second generation to determine how tainted they are."

My thoughts flew first to Auslan and my heart seized in my chest, pure terror flooding through me before I remembered that he was born prior to Wilsira's confession. The Consort and the wizard both had told me that Auslan was the elder between them, he should be old enough.... Perhaps barely so? 

I would find out very soon. I felt light-headed to imagine the Sisters targeting him, or me ordered to kill him or any of his offspring.

Including mine.

My mind whirled still as I thought of myself and my former House, of my birth mother's fourth daughter just born... No, we hadn't been blessed with a Consort in the past two hundred years and all of Mother's daughters had been conceived from different males not significantly younger than her, as far as I knew.

The lavender-eyed Consort at House D'Verin, however...he was one of those marked for death, and the child of any Drow now pregnant by him. Add those to dozens of others in more than half of the Houses, all of them in the top ten stations of power....

The power balance was about to shift dramatically.

My next realization was that I would be helping to do this. A true purge as we had not seen in my lifetime. The reputation of the Red Sisterhood would be strengthened once again, to be maintained as one of nightmares, of abductors of children and mothers, killers of those unfortunate families who drew our eye, our blade, and the queen's judgment.

The Valsharess looked at Wilsira again, but for the final time. "Auranka, she is yours if you want her."

"No!"

The doomed Priestess shouted denial; she backed away as the sauntering werespider stepped forward, but something else drew my attention right then. Something caused me to look at Elder D'Shea. 

She was focused hard on me and I thought I heard something. Not from a message pellet but...

A thought.

*Draw her wrath! Please, now!*

Why?...

I obeyed, responding to the desperate urgency of another mind I knew well, another Drow trapped and so close to being set free.

Draw her wrath.

I laughed at Wilsira trying to escape her new Mistress. "Kerser'yn'czael will be shouting with glee from the Abyss, you shriveled, dry cunt!"

That was all it took.

Wilsira flinched hearing that name as much as Kerse himself had. She spun around and lunged for me, hands outstretched and screaming in rage. Every Red Sister but I reached for a weapon, and I prepared to turn her attack, drawing down into a fighting stance.

What happened next, however, was something I'd never seen before. Three small, black spiders jumped down from my shoulders, startling me as they skittered down my raised arms. They leaped an impressive distance onto Wilsira's face and I could tell by her screams when they had bitten her, even as I succeeded in using her momentum against her to deflect her away from me.

She collapsed onto the floor, surrounded by Red Sisters ready to strike but waiting for a command, and the spiders crawled into her Priestess robes. I could only presume they kept biting as she screamed and slapped at herself. 

The venom worked visibly fast as her flesh began to swell and puss leaked out of tiny wounds that were quickly turning necrotic. My Sisters and I moved away then and everyone tried to watch both the thrashing Priestess and their backs at the same time as bodies shifted around the room.

Auranka was scowling in displeasure and the Valsharess had slowly sat down in Her throne again to watch almost curiously. No one moved as the Priestess's throat swelled shut and her muscles twitched uncontrollably. At last Wilsira suffocated, the life leaving her eyes along with the pain.




Sufferance Ch. 15



The Drider Mistress hissed something and the three spiders crawled out of the robes as if in response, beginning to come toward her. However, they paused in their steps, and I'd never realized until then that a spider could actually hesitate.

"Not yours, Auranka?" the queen asked.

"No, Valsharesss," she replied, staring at the little beasts. "Guardian-bred. They were protecting thisss one." She gestured at me, then looked directly at me. "Call them back to you, Sisster."

I shrugged. "Forgive me, Mistress Auranka, I don't know how. I've...never seen them before."

The Valsharess began to chuckle softly and everyone looked at Her, but She was looking at D'Shea, once again resting Her jaw in a long-fingered hand. As She watched—as I watched—it seemed that D'Shea now stood up straighter and looked far less strained than she had been this entire time. She did not look ill, and she could breathe normally.

Her mouth was twitching with her temptation to smile in triumph.

"We see a hole in your pouch, Elder. Perhaps you should get that repaired."

My Elder checked her belt and there was an empty-looking pouch with a small hole in it. "By Lolth's grace...how did that happen?"

The queen shook her head. "Varessa...you will explain to Us why you stole Auranka's prey."

D'Shea's subtle smile faded. "Yes, my queen."

My Elder whispered softly and the spiders obediently crawled their way back to her. She scooped them up gently and allowed them to play a little on her red gloves before coaxing them into an alternative pouch, one without holes. I thought I knew what had just happened.

*The only action I can take against her is through others,* D'Shea had said to me in the cavern with the wards. Those spiders, her pets, had been protecting me. They had not been ordered to attack Wilsira. It was a nice loophole that she, perhaps, had thought of from listening to my story of the death of my birth sister. *I never touched her.*

If Auranka had taken Wilsira instead, she would not actually be dead, and the compulsion would still rest upon D'Shea. I understood the purpose of my Elder's order now; I was just amazed I'd been able to hear it.

My Elder took her time to perform a graceful bow as she seemed to gather her thoughts. When she spoke, she almost sounded... different to my ears. Not the D'Shea who had been my conniving, secretive superior for two years but a D'Shea with a lot more quiet and calm in her head.

"I remember now, my queen."

"Remember what, child?"

"Two hundred and ten years ago." My Elder took a steadying breath. "I remember why Wilsira attacked me while I was pregnant in the Sanctuary. That is why I stole the kill, Valsharess. There was a compulsion set on me by her, linked only to her death. Auranka's ritual of transformation would not have lifted it."

D'Shea had actually said it aloud. I was not certain many could interpret the look in her eyes, but I could. I'd been there.

"It is not as I have believed for so long," she said. "The attack was not because of Your Grace's generous offer to allow the Sisterhood to keep a daughter, if the divination proved true. Wilsira needed my power to boost her own, to answer that call in reverie to the Abyss. I remember the ritual now. I remember the demon's real name, the one with whom she bargained. I was there."

Lelinahdara smiled, as did the Valsharess.

"That will prove useful, child. We shall hear more of this in private." The queen nodded toward Shyntre. "And him? He was with you in that trial as well, was he not? Yet unborn."

"Yes, Valsharess. Always as he was meant to be. The first divination was simply wrong, and I knew that before Wilsira's attack. I was expecting a son, but was made to forget." My Elder swallowed, hesitating, before saying again, "He is my son."

Shyntre had balled up his fists and held stiff and still, staring at some random point on the floor. I thought he probably would have wanted to either run away or strike out at someone, anyone, but he could take no action at all in front of the Valsharess without being told. I almost would not have wished this further confusion on him...but he could accept the benefit of D'Shea publicly acknowledging him, couldn't he?

At the same time, Elder Rausery stared at her peer with plain surprise, but I could also see her mind working. I would hazard that she now grew to understand a lot of bewildering behavior very quickly. Now it made even a bit of sense of her.

The Valsharess smirked. "Your son is a boon, in Our mind. If We are to have no new Consorts for the time being, We believe We may request his service. His power is formidable, our race can use it. Indeed, We have an entire Tower of gifted males, don't We?" She chuckled.

I saw my wizard's jaw tightening. An alternative to the Consorts... He glanced my way and I could see the stark denial there. He didn't want that life, to be kept in a comfortable room without purpose except to fuck when told. He likely would even have trouble staying erect under those circumstances.

Neither he nor I truly understood how Auslan lived it.

"If You wish, Valsharess, but—" D'Shea began.

She raised a golden eyebrow at Shyntre's mother. "But?"

The sorceress did well to hold her own under that oppressive gaze. "Elder Rausery has invested much in him and we still need him and his abilities. He would be wasted as a Consort, my queen."

"But he is capable of stepping away on occasion to give his seed when requested, is he not?"

Rausery chuckled softly as she glanced at me. "That he is, Valsharess, but he is a scholar; he requires foreplay. The Consorts may be able to arouse themselves with a mere thought and sustain themselves with magic, but it will be different if Your Grace wishes to use the mages in the Tower in the same capacity. They need much more attention and coaxing, my queen."

I would say that Shyntre's face grew very hot during this conversation. I would have smiled at the memories that surfaced for me except...truthfully I did not want the queen to notice. It would not work in the wizard's favor to imply any kind of fond claim by me. I kept my face neutral.

"This may be at least until we reorganize our methods," Lelinahdara broke in, stepping forward to stand next to the High Priestess. "If Your Grace wishes to hear in private, I believe I have a suitable alternative for breeding Consorts."

I saw instantly why Lelinahdara had done that. The Red Sisters shared the wizards with the Priestesses, but the Sisterhood probably knew more about what got the scholars interested in sex. Having to share that limited power, and also to try to re-convince the Nobles of what they wanted after the coming purge, was not at all what the Priesthood wanted, even from D'Shea's ally.

"Nobles of purged Houses may not take Consorts so readily again afterward," the queen said darkly. "Let those Consorts untainted remain where they are and we will see. We may have to develop something else but perhaps We can offer them something new. Yes, We will listen later, Lelinahdara."

The liaison nodded and bowed gracefully, satisfied to have her audience later when there were not so many ears listening. She had also stepped in quite elegantly to present herself as a candidate to rival Wilsira in the divine projects. I didn't think D'Shea or Rausery were going to protest that too much.

"We have much to think about," the Valsharess said, rising once again. "Priestesses will confine themselves to their chambers during the Purge. All in this room will not discuss Our Will with anyone, now or in the future. If We have one suspicion of warning to any affected Houses or Consorts, it is treason and your fate will lie with Auranka and her Driders. Lelinahdara will retrieve the records.

"The Sisterhood will begin the Purge. Now. Rid Our race of this taint, Red Sister Prime."

"It will be done, my queen."

*****

Tarra's face was one of stone as she led nine of us to the third and fourth floors immediately following the audience with the Valsharess. Shyntre had been escorted away by two Red Sisters from Qivni's team to return to the Tower for the time being. I hadn't realized it until that moment, but I was glad he wouldn't be staying in the Palace as our queen mulled over these events; her apparent interest in him was disconcerting. 

Wearing the black uniforms and being youngest, Jael and I stood at the rear in the hallways and the nursery rooms watching the halls. There were not an exorbitant number of Drow children on the third floor at present, and most Red Sisters took two each—quickly and efficiently—and none remained for the two of us standing guard.

I would not say I was dissatisfied with that fact.

Then we went to the fourth floor. When the one Consort who'd spoken to me before recognized me, D'Shea ordered that I be the one to slay him. Rausery agreed. It was a test. 

His unnatural responses—almost a lack of fear even now—and my memory of his unnerving touch made it easier for me; I could follow my orders without hesitation.

Once we were finished at the Sanctuary, we left to reconvene at the cloister and dispatch all teams from there. The Red Sister Prime possessed the list of marks and had already called back any Sister still in the field before we'd left for the Palace. She had been preparing to have her full strength in her Sisterhood, I thought, but couldn't have known for what.

There were forty-five Red Sisters at present, and twelve Houses that were afflicted. Teams of three and four Sisters were given their targets for the first wave: the Consorts themselves, and the first generation of offspring living on the same plantation. 

At the same time, the borders of our City were being closed by the army, and more sentries and watchers set wards to keep Drow from escaping the City. Those non-Drow coming to trade, or those wanting to leave, simply had to wait until the queen opened the borders again.

All Sisters were allowed to hear the list of all Houses being targeted, and who got which assignment—I think so that it would be difficult to "forget" killing or capturing anyone, should such an impulse arise for any given reason. Perhaps the Prime had far more experience in these purges than I knew.

I was shocked, and terrified, to hear that House Itlaun was on the list. The assignment—not given to anyone involved in my rescue but to D'Shea herself—was to take the newest infant and capture the one pregnant daughter, Curgia, and to kill the Consort like the others.

But he was no longer at the House.

I kept my mouth shut until we were dismissed, but then I pled with Jaunda to give me a few moments with D'Shea. My Lead granted it.

D'Shea was not patient with me when I caught her.

"In there," she growled, pushing me into a store room rather than talk out in the hall. She warded it behind us.

"You want to know why House Itlaun," she said first.

"Yes!" I answered, so tense my neck hurt. "If they're tainted, I am! I thought Auslan is older than two-ten!"

D'Shea shook her head firmly. "Calm, Sirana, calm. He is. He is two-fifty. I asked Tarra to add that House to the list, and she did. Auslan has to disappear somehow, and this Purge is the perfect cover."

I stared hard. "You...you're going to trade an infant and one unborn for him?"

My Elder's copper eyes narrowed warningly. "I'm trading them for you, your child, and my son. I haven't been so ill as to not notice a few things over the years, Sirana, and it's just enough that I can't let the Prime kill the Consort before I determine how safe it is for you, and how that might effect Shyntre. I've promised to make it worth the Prime's while, and you're going to help in that."

"But...they're not tainted, Elder, and the rules set about killing those yet unborn—"

"By the queen's own command, we're waiting until that one is born and not killing the mother," D'Shea snapped. "To most effectively protect our little theft, the Prime said that Italun's spawn needs to be taken with the rest. That is what we will do. The public will assume the Sisterhood took care of the Consort as well and neither the queen nor the Priestesses will think to look in our cloister for him for a long time—if they ever do."

"Except Tarra," I pointed out. "Will she always have a reason to keep secrets from the queen if she grows in power, even above you?"

"That is all Priestesses do, my student," she replied with a hardening face. "And you'll yet be surprised just how many secrets are kept from the queen."

I blinked. For a time, perhaps, secrets could be kept. What was the longest lasting one, I wondered?

We watched each other warily for a few moments before D'Shea gestured smartly. "Go meet up with Jaunda. Do as you've been assigned. We will talk later."

The only thing that made me leave was the simple fact that I hadn't needed to tell D'Shea about Auslan's visions in order to spare him. I had thought I would need to quickly; Wilsira was dead, so the initial argument to keep him was gone. Somehow, D'Shea had convinced the Prime to take no action yet...and instead to keep the secret from her liege? How had she managed that?

My Elder had made one thing clear: she knew there was some connection between her son and our prisoner. Yes, we would have to talk later.

*****

We timed our attacks to hit all twelve Houses at the same time and just as the borders closed to minimize missives and other communication of warning between them. 

I was assigned to go with Jaunda and half her normal team, Kiren, and Lawret. The other two went with Gaelan; I believed I understood why as Berayla was probably the most capable in running a small team on her own. Meanwhile, I was one who had to be watched, and it had to be by someone who knew how I might have been compromised. 

Galean—who did not know exactly how I'd been healed—would be kept away from me, and Jaunda would have eyes on to judge my actions and reactions. Kiren and Lawret, by comparison, were two Sisters who were known to be very enthusiastic when they hunted Noble targets and Jaunda was the one to whom they listened best.

We headed to the Third House, a place I'd never been but Jaunda had, not only to kill their Consort but also to execute six Nobles and capture one pregnant Drow. It would halve the number of offspring supported by the seven-century Matron, both young and grown, in a mere eve.

I'd noticed my three Sisters each quaffing two potions before we struck, and I was instructed to do the same.

*The slow healer, standard action,* Jaunda signed, *and a prevention draught, just in case.*

I'd given her a steady look and she smirked. 

Only when the other two weren't looking, she added, *Or don't. But drink the healer for sure.*

I did as she instructed, but I noticed an uneasy feeling at the realization that they were also preparing themselves for the possibility of contact with semen. Not a simple slice-and-go, then.

Why did I feel reluctance at this idea?

*A pity,* Kiren commented as we prepared to invade the House. *A rare chance to take one of those Consorts without reprisal, and we can't have any fun before he dies!*

*You heard our orders,* Jaunda signed with a scowl. *The Prime said no risking the taint ourselves. You'll not rape any males.*

*But the females are fair game,* came the sly reply. 

Lawret added, *As is a male who receives my cock instead.*

The Lead sighed. *If you must. But be quick. We still have the second generation to find.*

Kiren looked at me with a lovely and disconcerting smile. *Come with me, and I might let you borrow mine.*

She meant...to borrow her Feldeu. The idea didn't thrill me as it obviously did Lawret.

I didn't have a chance to reply before Jaunda signed, *No. Sirana's targets will be those too young to breed."

I said nothing.

If all of those marked Nobles would die regardless, I wondered which choice would cause the fewest dreams for me later? Neither, in this case. I was expected to find some way to get past Kerse's rape on my own—that was what I'd been trained for—but there had been no time yet to reflect, and a decision was still not made about my pregnancy. Consciously I understood that, until I had some resolution of these events, I could feel none of the excitement for the hunt as my Sisters did; I only felt the duty. And the weight.

We waited for the signal from Elder D'Shea—stretching across the enormous cavern as all Red Sisters acted at once—and we began the Purge.

I killed my targets, all three of them who were children under twenty years—this newest Consort's entire clutch—and they died quickly, one of them after screaming and begging to be spared before the blade went in. I hadn't spoken, I did not hesitate, but I did not like the tight, weak feeling in my chest as I fulfilled my orders fully and prepared the bodies for burning out in the courtyard. My Sisters had yet to add to them.

Several older Drow were staring, watching either in disbelief or impotent rage. They did not speak to me, but I knew they wanted to. At the very least, to ask, "Why?"

I ignored them as I walked past and back into the mansion.

Next I swept the near-empty halls and rejoined my Sisters, I found that Jaunda had not seemed in the mood to play with her quarry and had simply slit the Consort's throat—perhaps before either of her subordinates could start getting ideas. By the sounds I heard down the next hallway, I could imagine that Kerin and Lawret had found the eldest daughter and eldest son of the House's prior, tainted Consort; the siblings were now just old enough to breed—and they were not dead yet.

*This current Consort's three young spawn are dead, Lead,* I reported. *Their bodies are in the courtyard.*

Jaunda nodded and did not stop the other two from having their fun as she gestured for my help to carry the Consort's body outside as well...then capture the First Daughter. She was far too old to be the seed of the tainted Consorts but had recently been impregnated by the present one, unfortunately.

She might live if she did not fight, but her child would not regardless.

The Matron of the Third House wanted to demand an explanation of this invasion but did not dare. She stood trembling and with that First Daughter whom we sought, her bump only beginning to show. It was quite a show of dignity and defiance. I carried the Consort out while Jaunda stood guard to watch the Matron and her First. I heard them speaking when I came back in.

"Had this been intended for all of us, Red Sister," the Matron said with a fearful yet angry quiver to her voice, "there would be more of you. What have we done to anger the Valsharess? We will make any tribute She wishes."

Jaunda did not reply but gestured to me, and I stepped forward to take the First Daughter by the arm. She began to struggle in panic as I brought her wrists back to secure them behind her back, and she blurted, "Mother!"

The Matron's face broke to show much more distress. "No, please, you cannot take my Firstborn and my grandchild—"

"If she does not fight, she may live," Jaunda offered the Matron, her voice brusque and intimidating. "But she is coming with us. Wait for word from the Palace and speak no details of what happened here."

That was an impossibility—gossip would run amok regardless as citizens eventually compared notes and noticed patterns and talked about the Red Sisters once again. Regardless, it must be as had been commanded by the queen and the Prime, so Jaunda obeyed.

Kerin and Lawret joined us soon enough, looking more relaxed and with a bit of sweat and blood on their faces, dragging their own set of bodies. We made sure the fire burned hot and high before we dragged our captive to where our lizards were cloaked from view, and we rode off with her back to the Palace to place her in the dungeon with the others.




Sufferance Ch. 15



******

D'Shea refused to talk with me at all about Auslan when I gave my own report of the Purge so far. She kept our focus dead set on what was happening immediately and wouldn't deviate though I tried to nudge her. It didn't work; my Elder was like a stone wall.

She said, "Jaunda reports that you performed well, Sirana."

"Elder," I said, withholding a sigh.

"Did you feel any conflict?"

I swallowed. "Yes, Elder."

"How so?"

"Executing the children, Elder."

"Normal for your age, Sirana. It is not common that we must do so. Any other conflict?"

"The rapes, Elder. I had no interest in participating and could not watch. I was...glad Jaunda made it quick for the Consort."

D'Shea moved to stand in front of me in her red uniform and stared into my eyes; neither of us blinked. "Did you take any action not explicitly ordered, even if you would justify it?"

"No, Elder."

D'Shea watched me closely and seemed to decide that I was being truthful. She stepped over to her bookshelf and, after waving a hand to ease the ward, removed a plain stone box from the shelf and set it on her writing table. She contemplated it, not looking at me, without opening it.

"Some things have changed since the Purge began, Sirana. The Valsharess has ordered another audience with only those involved in Kerse's death, after the Purge is more or less complete and we can spare you. That will be you, Jael, Gaelan, Jaunda, and Shyntre. The Prime will be there, as will Rausery and I. She will not have any Priestesses there."

I frowned when she paused, but waited for the rest to drop.

"The chances are high the queen may discover your pregnancy, Sirana. I believe She did not before is because of your psionic 'noise' and how much else was going on in that chamber. She habitually reads thoughts to varying depths, and with fewer present in the room She may catch it from you or Jaunda."

Or Shyntre. But I kept my mouth closed about that for now. 

"Unfortunately, I cannot offer an abortion, for if She discovers that as well, She may well order my death or condemnation to Auranka for it."

She paused to let me absorb that.

"Do you wish me to confess and resign myself to the Sanctuary, Elder?" I asked, nearly in monotone. I did not see many options but was still trying to think of something.

"Only if it will save you from or delay execution, Sirana."

My brows drew down. "Only if?"

D'Shea nodded. "There will still be punishment for Kerse's death."

"Why? The queen knows what happened, almost everything. Jaunda chose correctly—she never intended to kill him, and none of us dealt the killing blow. He did it himself."

My Elder shook her head. "The Priestesses are near rebellion with this Purge, and there are still sympathizers for Wilsira. Even if none of them are directly challenging the queen, they have not been completely cowed and they are already scheming. Tarra is at great risk right now, with only the queen's protection dissuading any direct attacks for the near future. She is the one who stepped forward to topple Wilslira, and she now will need to gain allies and prove she can recover all the power so quickly lost by the Priesthood before she will be on firm ground again."

My mouth tightened. "The Priestesses are demanding the punishment, and the queen and Prime will give it to them to satisfy the deaths in the Purge?"

"Yes, *but*..." my Elder emphasized, "Rausery and I had been given the opportunity to make a case to the Prime, which we have, and through her, the Valsharess. We may be able to persuade a service—a penance—instead of death to satisfy the Priestesses' demands. Do as you can to keep your condition from coming to your mind, use what the dwarf gave you—I can speak for its effectiveness. Whatever you have been doing has made you difficult to read with magical attempts." 

She looked at my expression and added, "Well. Whether you knew it or not. Meanwhile, I will help Jaunda do the same with a spell."

I'd barely had time to absorb the one shock when I heard the other.

"A spell...or a compulsion?" I asked with a suspicious tilt to my head.

D'Shea leveled her gaze at me. I could tell: it was a compulsion.

"Elder, no," I said with anxiety rising. "How could you, after what you and I both know? You were a Lead when it happened to you!"

She tensed at my tone and frowned at me. "They have always been necessary, Sirana. In one form or another."

"She knows what you did to Gaelan. She abhors it. I know she would do many things for you before suffering that! Even if she does survive the queen's judgment then you will still lose your most loyal left-hand. How did the queen not pluck my pregnancy from her mind before, when she was giving testimony? Jaunda must have some training and experience, some mental defense."

"She does, yes, but not indefinitely and not in a small audience with the queen focused on her," D'Shea retorted. "I do not know everything that will be asked and we must be prepared! If I can keep you alive past this next audience, then that is what I want. My plans for you have changed significantly...but I would still keep one Sister with such potential, even if I must lose Gaelan and Jaunda in the process."

Once upon a time, it might have pleased my sense of ambition to hear that.

"Are you willing to give them up so easily, then?" I demanded, in my upset neglecting to use her title.

She ignored the slip as her temper flared, focused on the problem at hand. "Open your ears, novice! My first plan is that I keep all my Sisters and that the Valsharess does *not* discover you are pregnant and have that card in her hand at all! If Rausery or the Prime knew, this would not work and your fate would be out of my hands. I'm trying to keep it there."

D'Shea paused and took a breath, giving me a moment to accept what she had said before continuing. "But... if we cannot manage to negotiate a service as payment for Kerse's death, then I am giving you the order now to confess your pregnancy and the queen will spare you, if not the others. Jaunda and myself must plead ignorance of any foreknowledge, and Jaunda *must* believe her ignorance or we all die! She is the weak link and I cannot ignore that. Then I have two more years to come up with something else to help you."

I could see the necessity, and D'Shea's tenacious focus on protecting me should have been satisfying, but I could not forget about the price my Lead would pay for it. Every impulse inside me rebelled against the method. There had to be another way! 

"What if I could give Jaunda a psionic suggestion instead of you giving her a compulsion?" I blurted.

Her brows shot up. "Assuming you could, that is untested. Would you risk yourself, me, and Jaunda on something of which you couldn't be sure? Even if you would, I wouldn't."

"I know how it feels from the other end, Elder, and I was linked to a Draegloth who was linked to an Illithid," I said stoutly. "Yes, I believe I can do it, and choose when it would wear off. It wouldn't be permanent on her."

"She would not believe you, or risk it knowingly. It would be as bad as a compulsion to her."

"Yet I could try without her knowing, Elder," I said. "I just need time. I'll...I'll...Give me this eve when she returns, I'll go to her room and spend the night with her. If it doesn't work, you will still have time for your plan, won't you?"

We stood in silence as she turned this over and over in her mind.

"You may be able to have it both ways, Elder," I pleaded, trying to push a little farther. "No loss of Jaunda's trust *and* the knowledge of my condition out of the hands of the Valsharess for now."

After a quiet moment, D'Shea said softly, "Your new...power was instrumental in breaking the compulsion on me, Sirana. I've not felt this in control in centuries. Perhaps we can try it your way, but we must act quickly to see if it may work. Are you ready to try now, if I call her back before the Purge is complete?"

I nodded earnestly. "Yes, Elder."

"Then do it."

*****

Jaunda was getting cleaned up after D'Shea had debriefed her about the coming audience and possible service—in a less complete version than I'd received, I assumed. I hadn't been there, but I found her in her quarters shortly after watching her leave our Elder's.

"Going smoothly, Lead?" I asked after she bid me come in the door.

She was nude form the waist up, having stripped very quickly and was now scrubbing at some dirt and blood on her arms before she even got to her leather bottoms and boots.

"Yeah," she grunted, touching a bruise on her upper arm with a frown. "Word's spreading fast enough, we're getting more resistance. Doesn't stop us, though."

"Kiren and Lawret still having fun?"

Jaunda shrugged. "Sure. Less time for dalliances now, though, and not so smart to turn their backs on anyone."

"And you?"

She huffed a laugh and shook her head. "Not in me to take such risks, novice, when I know the Abyss is touching this thing."

I smiled. "All that fighting, then, and no release, hm?"

She caught my tone and paused in her washing, looking at me with a mixed expression: interest and bewilderment. "Thought you were still recovering. You've had some bad shocks involving your cunt."

Blunt as ever.

"I don't want to hide from it," I said evenly. "I need to face it. And you know about it, so..."

My Lead quirked a brow. "I'm 'safe'?"

I nodded. "If you want it, Lead. I'm looking. I can try another Sister, though, Gaelan or Jael, probably, if you're not in the mood."

Jaunda rarely ever was not. She grinned and shook her head in bemusement, striding over to take my hand and haul me farther into the room. She caught me up in a tight embrace and claimed my mouth, stroking the inside deeply with her tongue as she began stripping me out of my leathers. I wasn't bundled up in armor at the moment so it didn't take long to expose my skin. 

I could smell how hard she'd been working recently; her scent was strong and she wasn't at her freshest, but somehow that only made her more appealing.

"Let me leave this on," I said breathily, touching my sapphire pendant between my breasts after she removed my shirt.

"Don't need it to siphon any magic from me," she smirked. "Getting sentimental about the wizard?"

"It reminds me how much I've survived."

"Gotcha." 

She didn't need a deeper explanation. She clasped me again, our breasts mashing together, and she mouthed the skin of my shoulder before she encouraged me to touch her in return, placing my hands at the waist of her leathers. I helped her strip the rest of the way before she caught me back up in a deep kiss.

"Glad we got you back," she gasped heavily, greedily squeezing my rump and sucking on my neck, biting it to make me gasp. "No Red Sister should fuckin' die that way."

I couldn't think of a reply as she lifted me up to get me quickly on her bed.

Almost all of her usual enthusiasm was there, but I noticed my Lead was being more careful about certain acts: where she put her weight or how hard she squeezed with her hands when near my abdomen and, when she finally mounted me, how deeply she thrust into my willing and eager pussy. She had yet to play with my ass as she so loved to do.

Was she falling into a pattern of holding herself back on my account? It may be my pregnancy was at the fore of her mind, even if it had just begun and, realistically, her normal preferences wouldn't hurt something that was barely a speck inside me.

No wonder a pregnant Red Sister was usually sequestered away from the others... even if I didn't know how much was just my relationship with my Lead, how much might be a magical side-effect of Auslan's, or what Red Sisters truly thought about offspring from our own cloister.

Wilsira might have been right about one thing: the Red Sisters couldn't truly forget our blood, much as we might try, much as the Prime wanted it trained out of us. If we traded our birth families for the Sisterhood...then the child of one of us was the child of the entire Sisterhood. Flawed as that idea was.

I enjoyed my Lead's attention nonetheless as she led every change in position, and I used the slower pace to concentrate on that feeling I remembered from before when I was connected with D'Shea...of a hole in a veil, of a small tear—of being able to go through it and merge with another. 

The blue pendant glittered and swung gently from around my neck as I braced myself on all fours and Jaunda covered my back, strokeng her Feldeu inside me much more gently than usual, her hands cupping my breasts and sliding down my flanks. As she did so, it felt almost as if I drained my own gem as I focused harder; its presence became weaker as my mind grew stronger. Was it working?

If it was, I had to be subtle about this. She couldn't know I was there.

Pleasure began to come in waves for me, from two sources which seemed to line up in tandem....and then in sync. I slowly became aware of being able to feel her thrusting into me—but from the perception of her body as well as mine. The last time I did this, only a few cycles ago, I could feel it from Kerse's side... 

Given a few more moments, I noticed as well that this was not dissimilar to what I'd already learned about managing wards by listening to my body. I wondered whether what had happened to me in the wilderness had ultimately made me so effective with wards...?

*Jaunda...Jaunda...*

I mentally whispered my suggestions, quietly, but over and over...until there was a...something I could only describe as a resonance, coming from her.

*Yes...* she whispered, both a primal thought of pleasure and one of comprehension.

*You'll remember everything again in a week's time, and you won't recall that you'd ever forgotten. Meanwhile, you have no need to visit or talk about solitary.*

*Yes...*

Her thrusts gradually became much harder as she stopped holding back. She gripped me more firmly, reaching to twist my nipple before squeezing my tits hard, growling deeply in lust. She withdrew from my soggy snatch and pressed firmly at my netherhole, squeezing in, encouraging me when I cried out at how fast she had speared me.

She made me tell her aloud how much I loved being fucked by her. I told her gladly. Both of us felt how good it was to still be alive.

"Spider-bitten slut," she whispered lewdly in my ear as she reamed me and spanked my buttocks hard, eventually gripping my hips tightly and pounding into my ass two score of times. 

When at last she slammed in all the way and held still, she released a hoarse roar from her throat, shuddering and rasping. I could not tell a difference between her orgasm and mine when it happened.

"Ohhhh, fffuck, I needed that..." my Lead gasped, her sweaty forehead resting against my shoulder blade. "Much better that you didn't bite it, Sirana. Hope Wilsira's writhing in the Abyss."

I chuckled. "Me, too. Good thing the wizard steered us toward the Consort, hm?"

"Yeah. Good thing we made it in time, too. The mage is a quick thinker."

"Yes." 

I slowly caught my breath with my Lead's Feldeu still lodged in deep as I waited patiently for her to withdraw. I breathed out slowly as she did. Fortunately she was up for a little pillow talk as always, and I could probe her with a few more telling questions.

I wound up smiling. It had worked, somehow it had worked! I was confident that Jaunda remembered everything except Auslan impregnating me—for now, at least—and was sure that I had succeeded.

I could convince D'Shea not to permanently alter her Lead at all, and we would all be able to stand against the queen's probes.

Even now, the Sisterhood would keep its secrets, provided that I could make contact with Shyntre prior to the next audience.

*****

My regular duties had been disrupted enough that I could manage a call upon the wizard. I'd told D'Shea quite plainly that I needed to talk to him about the talisman and the fight, to fill in some holes—pun intended—and she granted it with a slow nod of her head.

"Only if you will lay grounds in my favor with him. He still won't talk to me."

"I'll try, Elder."

Phaelous was going to be a problem. His "sending his regards" to my Elder in the past made more sense now, of course, and no two Drow in the same room within the Tower would draw his spying eyes more that his gifted son and his former lover's favored novice.

Basically, once Shyntre granted me an audience in his quarters (and yes, Phaelous did phrase it that way), I had to have a simple motivation. I had to walk in with only the obvious intent to couple with him. By forceful persuasion, if necessary.

"Are you addled in the head, Sirana?" he asked as he backed away from me. He'd just closed and warded the door for privacy.

"Shut up. Come here."

He hesitated using anything forceful against me as he had once in Callitro's room—further indication that he knew my secret, if I needed it— but he did send me straight into a magic shield.

"Shyntre!"

"What is wrong with you?" he demanded in return, now almost trapped between his own well-ordered desk and his neat bookshelf, all scrolls tied tight and neat and stacked just so. He was lit from the side by the single candle covered in glass which sat upon his desk. He looked quite good in that soft light.

"Let down the shield and I'll show you."

The mage seemed not to know how to read my actions, likely because he didn't believe me "back to normal" yet.

Of course, he was right.

"Shyntre, come on, just let me fuck you," I said in a lowered, almost conspiratorial tone as I smiled.

"I'm hardly in the mood," he said, although I could tell his curiosity was warring with his caution. "Sirana, just leave if you have nothing else to say."

I removed my gloves, tucked them at my waist, and pressed my bare hands flat against the shimmering, near-invisible shell of magic. I could feel the vibrating tingle of energy but it wasn't a punishing formation as it sometimes could be. Another way he was holding back in trying not to hurt me. 

"I'll break your shield eventually, mage."

"And how would you manage that? It's not a ward."

He stared defiantly at my eyes, and I smirked, tugging out the pendant that was the twin of his own, drawing his gaze down. It was glowing.

"Fuck!" he spat.

"Exactly. Let me closer," I coaxed. "I won't hurt you."

His mouth firmed up as if he would deny having any concern for that. "I thought you needed something."

"I do. You're the one who invited me to your quarters, just like I said you would." I smiled. "Don't be thick, wizard."

His cunning, dark red eyes narrowed at the subtle changes in my expression, and he considered. He was definitely thinking with the wrong head, in my opinion, but that was what made him so challenging to seduce and why I could even possibly plan with him while leaving D'Shea out of it. 

"Take the challenge, or wait for me to break through," I said gruffly. "We're running low on time but the result will be the same, I promise you."

His jaw tightened and I thought I saw some of the gold in his eyes glint. He frowned, unhappy with the choice, but hissed out a breath and the shield dissolved beneath my hands. At last.

I took those final two strides and pushed him back up against his bookshelf, rattling a stone or two that sat among the scrolls. My lips came down on his and I kissed him with a genuine eagerness as his familiar taste and scent dominated my senses for a few wonderful moments. He resisted with only a portion of his usual stubbornness.

Eventually, I moved to his ear, nibbling on it, using my tongue to explore it while holding him tightly in place. I whispered voicelessly, "Cover your eyes in my shoulder."

He did, making a small sound of reluctant desire as I kept touching him all over. It nearly distracted me from my primary purpose, it was such an arousing sound. Oh, Lolth, why couldn't he have made those sounds before now?