2 comments/ 1926 views/ 3 favorites Shadows in the Light Ch. 01 By: Kaneda_Shinaro [ANGELICA] Angelica Wilson-Smythe watched the setting sun stain the clouds with vivid streaks of pink and orange. Even through her amber goggles, she had to narrow her grey eyes against the glare. Her blonde hair became burnished copper, matching the decking and tubes snaking through the vast zeppelin BRS Valiant. She closed her eyes and wished, not for the first time, that the Council of Masters hadn't selected her for this expedition. They had their reasons, she was sure, but whatever portents they had read were beyond her ken: her meditations had shown nothing but fire and devastation in her future. Regardless, the Masters wouldn't have entrusted this to her if they didn't think her capable. She opened her eyes and sighed, letting as much tension bleed from her body as possible. The hair on the back of her neck rose, the Other Realm warning her someone was focussed on her. She concentrated on the sensation, trying to determine what the message she was being sent from the ether. Along lines of energy - the zeppelin's and the crew's - her mind danced until she found her target: a young sky-sailor bustling down the corridor towards her. His nervousness stained the Other Realm around him, pulsing in deep reds and oranges. At least there was someone aboard this vessel more nervous than her. The sky-sailor's bootheels clicked together behind her. "Ambassador?" Angelica turned, lifting her goggles onto the rim of her bowler hat. Her black ruffled skirt swept the deck as she faced the young sky-sailor. He averted his eyes from her delicate features. "Captain Walker requests your presence in his chambers, my lady." Walker would summon her but for one reason. Well, two reasons, but Angelica wasn't sure her erstwhile lover was likely to be thinking about the second reason, not when they were flying into a warzone. She nodded at the sky-sailor. "Thank you, handsome," she said, her voice satin-soft betraying nothing. She was a knight-bachelorette: it wouldn't do for the commoners to think she had doubts. The young man blushed and fled before she could compliment him further. She followed, allowing herself a small smile: she might be approaching thirty and unmarried, but she could still turn it on when she wanted. The sky-sailor led her to Captain Walker's inner sanctum two decks below. To avoid thinking about the mission ahead of her, Angelica studied the young man's backside, tracing the muscles beneath the blue overalls. She came out her reverie when the sky-sailor snapped to attention at the Captain's door. He reached a hand to turn the wheel-lock, but Angelica cleared her throat pointedly. The young man spun, his face a study of confusion. "My lady?" he stammered, clearly unsure what she wanted. "How do I look?" she asked, straightening her brown militaristic half-jacket and accentuating her full breasts. The young man's mouth worked silently. Angelica nodded as if he'd given a full critique of her outfit. "That's what I was hoping for." She gestured at the door: "Open it." The sky-sailor turned the wheel, leaving sweaty prints on the bare metal. Angelica drew herself to her full height and marched into the captain's quarters. Captain Walker, a slim man with a grey-flecked beard, sat behind a huge desk. The drab overalls he wore were purely symbolic: Angelica doubted he'd been near a greasy engine in years. But where some sky-captains had allowed themselves to grow fat, Walker strived to keep his body strong. He looked up from his journal, the white quill in his hand dripping ink onto the page. "Ambassador," he said with formality. "Captain," Angelica replied with equal stiffness as she strode to the desk. Bronze compasses and protractors lay scattered on a yellowed map of the world, catching the gaslight. Behind her, the young sky-sailor hauled the thick door shut. Her ears popped with the sudden change in pressure. Walker stood, placing his ledger and quill on the map. He came around to her side of the desk. The heels of her long boots lifted Angelica to be look him in the eye. "We're nearly there, Angie," he said, tapping a gloved finger at a spot on the map. She didn't need to look to know where he was pointing: the Bay of Reticulum which the Imperialist forces were blockading. And the Masters wanted her to negotiate peace... "How long have I got?" she asked, staring straight ahead. Walker raised an eyebrow at her tone. "You sound like a condemned woman." He started to smile but stopped when he saw her severe expression. He put a hand on her shoulder. She drew strength from the contact, swallowing the mounting fear. The Captain squeezed her gently. "We'll be there in the morning. It's alright, Angie. Those bloody Imperialists aren't going to do a damned thing. You're a knight, for God's sake. They'll take one look at you, realise the Senate and the Council aren't pissing about and call an end to this nonsense." Angelica snorted with derision. "It's not like the fate of the entire western Republic is depending on me or anything, Michael." Her pale eyes locked with his dark gaze. "I'm not a diplomat: I've always been better with this," she said, tapping the dagger on her hip. Walker glanced down and nodded, eyes widening. Angelica shook her head: she forgot that to see one of the Shards wasn't a common experience. The dagger was little more than a pocketknife really, one of eighteen such blades that had been formed from the legendary Sword of Light, Claiomh Solais. But the marbled steel was imbued with the energies of the Other Realm and when wielded by one trained in manipulation of that ethereal plane, it became more than mere metal: the blade became fire incarnate. Shard XV, along with the engraved pistol on her other hip, were Angelica's badges of office, marking her as an Other and a Knight-Bachelorette of the British Republic. She tilted the Captain's face to her. His beard rasped against her slender fingers. "I'm not a negotiator. It should be Liam here: he knows how to talk politics." Walker cupped her cheek, his fingers burying into her hair. "Liam's a soft touch. You're here because you're not. You're not going to listen to any of their horseshit, and that's what's going to end this blockade." Angelica brought her face closer, their lips almost touching. "You'll come get me if things get out of hand?" she whispered, as if giving volume to her fear would give it power. "Just like in Alexandria," he promised. She kissed him, his beard soft against her skin. He pulled her hat from her head, sending her blonde locks cascading down her back. Their lips met again, their tongues darting to meet. Her fingers deftly unbuttoned his overalls and as he hauled his arms free of the sleeves, she uncinched her weapon belts. She caught Shard XV and the pistol and placed them reverentially on a cushioned chair. Walker untied her neckerchief as he kissed down her jawline. A ripple of excited gooseflesh ran down Angelica's spine and a soft, eager moan escaped her. She kissed the sky-captain again, savouring the musky scent of him. When they paused for breath, Walker guided her to the desk. Angelica pushed aside the various brass instruments and sat atop the map. The Captain showered her face with soft, feather-light pecks, moving his way down her body. He unfastened her jacket, revealing her corsetry. He kissed the swell of her constrained breasts, eliciting another moan. Beneath the fabric, her nipples stiffened. Angelica leant back, exposing as much of her pale skin as she could to Walker's ministrations. She ran her fingers through his silver-streaked hair and pushed him lower. Needing no further encouragement, he knelt before her. She hitched her skirt up. His warm breath set her smooth, stocking-clad legs ablaze: she spread them, granting him the intimate access they both desired. Her underwear was a small black thong. The thin strip of cotton was all that separated Walker from her centre. A wicked glimmer flashed in his eye and the Captain ran a finger down the length of her covered sex, his free hand holding her legs apart. Angelica squirmed, relishing the sensation of his strong, leather-clad hands on her bare thighs. He teased her again and again. His fingers pressed against her, tracing the lines of her moistening folds. "Michael," she panted in frustration. Smiling, the Captain hooked his fingers under her thong and pulled, exposing the narrow strip of hair above Angelica's slit. The smell of her juices filled the air, sending Walker wild. With long, broad strokes, he licked her once, twice, three times. She bucked, pushing his tongue against her. He lapped her outer lips, delivering expert strokes with his tongue. She balled her fingers in his hair. He shifted position to suck on the nub at the top of her womanhood. A gloved finger slipped inside her welcoming tunnel, questing for her hidden spot. A low moan escaped her: Walker quickened his pace, his skilled tongue seemingly touching every part of her. Angelica felt her release building. With one hand, she squeezed her breasts and the other gripped Walker's salt-and-pepper locks. His first finger was joined by a second, stretching her wide. Her breath came fast and shallow, her chest heaving. Her conscious mind opened to the Other Realm, letting the lust-filled waves rolling off the sky-captain enhance her own impending climax. In his pulsing aura, she saw clearly what he wanted to do, how he wanted to take her: she felt the throb of his erection as if it was already nestled in place within her. Her hands became tight fists. Her toes curled in her boots. She thrust her hips forward, driving Walker's finger deeper inside her. "Fuck!" she gasped as her body shook uncontrollably. She writhed, but Walker kept his fingers working their magic and lapped her flowing juices. "Fuck!" she cried, her voice ringing around the chamber. The tension she'd been feeling since stepping aboard the Valiant evaporated into the Other Realm, dissipating like mist under the morning sun. She pushed him away, her entire body too sensitive to let him continue. Her legs shuddered as the waves gradually decreased in intensity. She lay back on the map, heedless of any instruments under her and fought for her breath. Walker stood and sucked her nectar from his gloved fingers. With a flourish, he drew a scarlet handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his face dry, looking altogether like he had just finished an exquisite meal. Angelica laughed at the image. "What?" Walker asked, frowning. She shook her head and extended a hand to him. "It's nothing," she said as he helped her onto her shaky legs. She kissed his bearded cheek and gripped his stiffness through his overalls. "Your turn." He took hold of her wrist and drew her hand away. "Not today. I did that because you needed it. We can finish this tomorrow, after you're back aboard and we're on our way home." He leant closer: she could smell her own scent mixing with his. "It gives you a reason to come back, doesn't it?" Angelica trailed her fingertips along his jaw. "One of these days, you're going to make me marry you." She spun away on her toes, her skirt rising up to give him another view of her long legs, and kicked her underwear off from around her ankle. Walker snatched the thong out the air and put it to his lips. She laughed again, shaking her head at the sky-captain's vulgarity. She picked her weapon belts up and fastened them cross-wise around her waist. The weight of Shard XV on her hips brought the reality of the situation back to her. "I need to meditate," she said in a forlorn voice, shrugging her jacket on. The sky-captain closed the gap between them in a single step. He embraced her, wrapping his arms around her narrow waist and drawing her to him. "You'll be fine, Angie," he whispered in her ear. "They're not going to do anything stupid enough to lead to open war. And even if they do..." He pulled back, holding her at arm's length and jerked his chin towards the ornate rifle hanging on the bulkhead. "I'll keep an eye on you with the long-shot." Angelica glanced at the long-barrelled gun, remembering the incredible noise it made. She'd seen Walker use it with a skill that could be matched only by an Other - say, for example, a knight-bachelorette. She laid a hand flat against his chest and nodded. "I need to meditate," she repeated, with confidence this time. Whatever happened, the Other Realm would guide her: of that she no doubt. She left him with her underwear as a promise of things to come. In a petty demonstration of her control over the Other Realm, she waved a hand at the wheel-lock. It spun quickly and, with another wave of her hand, the door swung open. She stepped out into the corridor where the young sky-sailor waited. By the colour rising in his cheeks and the images filling the Other Realm around him, there was no mistaking what he'd heard. "C'mon, handsome," she said with a smirk, "you can walk me to my quarters." Shadows in the Light Ch. 01-02 This is a work in progress between myself and my partner who is not signed on here but he's a good guy who has the better half belonging to my own main character. I hope to get this published with his help but we'll see what happens as this story unfolds. Forgotten Realms is a copyright of Wizards of the Coast, where this story takes place. Chapter 1 and Prologue A century has passed since the Spellplague ravaged the land of Faerun, which is part of the Prime Material Plane of Toril. Since then, many things have changed; old and forgotten lands had appeared while other places were either wiped out completely, changed into what is now called Plaguewrought Lands, or is still affected by unruly and wild magics to varying degrees. A good example on how things have changed when Mystra, the Goddess of the Weave that controlled Arcane Magic, was killed by Shar's assassin, is a castle on the edge of the High Moor. This castle is named Dragonspear Castle, where a portal to a Hellish dimension had been sealed up after a large army of men and women from three different municipalities joined forces to cleanse the unholy place. Before the Spellplague occurred, there was a standing army to make sure the place didn't again become infested with demons or was invaded by those from the Underdark which a passage exists even today in the depths of the fortress. Now, it stands empty as it once did as losses are slowly recovered from and civilization is slowly given a much needed boost. It is a time for new heroes as well as villains to rise. It is a time of uncertainty, of hope gained as well as lost, of love found and monsters slain, and of adventures that lie ahead for those that would dare tread such dangerous roads in pursuit of glories untold or for more personal reasons such as seeking redemption for past misdeeds. Whatever the case might be, this is one such tale. Being a lone wanderer, a sword for hire, and so much more was hard work even at the best of times. Sometimes one got lucky and found a relatively easy job that required something simple such as slaying a roving band of pesky goblins. Others were a bit harder, such an example being finding a magical item in a fortified encampment filled with everyday monsters and wild animals that have made their homes in such places. Then there were the jobs only the best dare take, such as clearing a long abandoned castle that could potentially have a portal to a Hellish Plane of Torment and Pain that needed to be closed lest an army of demons pour out of the ruins. Today was one of those days that this particular lone wanderer wished she had taken a bit of an easier job, closing the distance between herself and a monster that would not be easy to take down, even for her, but the gods had been with her so far despite the fact she wondered often if they still paid any mind to Toril anymore. Considering she had been born in the midst of the greatest chaos and darkness the world had ever seen, she tended to lean with the idea that the gods were either dead or just didn't care anymore, either way it was the same considering the mess the world was in, or had been for a whole century, the chaos finally settling down only last year or so. Considering her luck today, the elven warrior had to wonder as she dodged a powerful swipe from a rock giant that had thought it a good idea to make its home near the edge of Dragonspear Castle's outer walls, or rather what was left of it anyway. As a rule, rock giants, or stone giants as they were more commonly called, were considered one of the best when it came to slinging rocks great distances, but to her credit, the black cloaked woman had managed to get into melee range without having a single rock tossed her way, having by some small miracle spotting the creature before it had seen her and had thus been able to sneak up on it until a few feet away from being able to strike at it. Her father had trained her well in the half century she had stayed at home before starting out on the road in her own efforts to make a good name for herself. Now a hundred even, the elven woman's brown eyes narrowed to slits as she took a temporary reprieve behind a largely unbroken piece of the outer wall, needing to catch her breath since she had had to fight every step of the way once the old castle that had been abandoned yet again after the Spellplague came and went, no thanks to a large group of wild orcs that weren't under the green skinned hand of one of King Obould's descendants, the founder of the Many Arrows Kingdom long since dead, as well as a group of kobold slaves the orcs had kept, came into sight a couple of hours ago. Now, with a rock giant in her way to the castle, the elven warrior was getting quite tired as well as annoyed. The sound of thunderous footsteps sounded as the giant looked for her, too close to effectively squash her with any thrown projectile, so it was opting for an up close and personal touch. A bad move on the giant's part. Throwing her hood back with one dark skinned hand, the silver gray haired woman came out of hiding as she again drew her father's blades for the last time today, hoping to get some much needed rest before her foray into the castle itself the next day, and ran in hard. With the setting sun behind her, the light seemed to reflect off of her slender swords as well as the black mithril chainmail jerkin which had a foaming mug standard across her chest, the symbol of Clan Battlehammer and her clear alliance to the sturdy and stout hearted dwarves, she wore under her cloak, brown leather boots adorning her feet, and a pair of black animal hide leather pants hugged her lithe frame quite well. The giant was too slow to hope to keep up to the darting figure that quickly sank her swords deep into sinew and bone on her way by, making the rock giant tumble as its right hamstring was sliced in two before it felt another sharp pain that sent pure agony to the rest of its body as its groin was taken out before it felt light feet on its back. Unable to stand, the rock giant didn't know its doom had fell until its neck was sliced open from ear to ear as both blades formed an X underneath its chin before being pulled up hard. The deed done and the creature dead long before it hit the ground, the elven warrior cleaned her father's heavily enchanted blades on the grass that had found its way through the stone at her feet that used to be part of the castle grounds, once perfectly smooth and well maintained, now had many cracks if not outright bare patches of dirt present, before sheathing them in a sword belt on her slender hips. Brushing a slender and dexterous hand through her hair, the dark elf woman pulled her hair into a tight ponytail, but didn't bind it as such before letting her hair fall back across her back. Turning to the corpse, her brown eyes lost their hard edge as did her fair face as she searched among the rubble that used to be Dragonspear Castle until she found a relatively secure spot to set up camp for the night. Starting a small fire in a pit lined with rocks, the dark skinned warrior was glad she had such skills given to her from her father despite her initial reason for leaving, which had been selfish at the time perhaps but such was the way of things when you looked like the light elves' most hated enemy, among most of the other goodly races to boot who considered dark elves to be the most vile and wicked of any sentient race. Taking out a leather bound book, worn and faded from its initial brown color, the bindings holding it together worn as well, it still held up to the road well enough, she took out a small ink well and a white feather quill pen and began to write in smooth, flowing script, each letter a testament to her skill with a blade which the monsters in the region already feared for good reason since most that had survived her father's adventures knew better than to tempt fate with the daughter of that same legendary rogue and ranger to Mielikki, the goddess of the forests and the wild places that yet stood in these dark times. For now, she wrote of the day's events and silently wondered what had brought her to this desolate and dark place, although she knew the story, just even to her sharp mind and strong will, it seemed a blur in some regards. It helped to write it down, to keep a chronicle of her adventures, and to give herself another outlet for the inevitable loneliness that always fell upon her on nights like this. The few true friends she had were not cut from the same cloth she was, not by a long shot, and so she had no one that would travel with her as her father had so long ago. The third day on the road since leaving that small farming village, and I have yet to see any true sign of the Hell Portal opening up save for increased monster activity in the High Moors, which I passed through the southern most edge to get to my destination. On the other hand, all the world has suffered greatly since the Spellplague's arrival when I was first born, my twin older brothers being a year older than me. Our mother died giving me life, and while I wish I knew her even to this day, I am grateful for the gift she gave to me in carrying me to term. Regardless, that is neither here nor there. To tell it again, I took a mission from a Harper Agent on my way through Luskan to visit my brother who is a mage in the rebuilt city and the restored Host Tower of the Arcane, the man being a mage and a good one at that, far outranking me in terms of magical skill. Before I made it to the island that holds the Tower however, the Harper approached me at the entrance to the City of Sails, and asked for the help from the daughter of the legendary rogue and ranger. I almost turned him down since while I love my father with all of my being, I do not like being reminded of how far I have to go to ever hope of getting out from under his shadow, even if he often said that I need not prove myself in any way to him. It is my choice, and my choice alone to do so, and again while I love what he had been and what he has become in my eyes, as well as the eyes of all those he had touched in some form or another through his heroic deeds, I cannot live off of his glory alone. I need my own since I face the same racial hatred that he did when he first came to the surface. While it is less now, it is still common for me to be turned away in most taverns or inns I try to go into, if not outright threatened with violence, which I try to defuse before any injuries are dealt out. Even so, despite the fear that being a dark elf in appearance only gives to one such as myself, I will not turn away from the path I have chosen. Getting back to why I have come out here, there is too few heroes anymore, so I do what I can to make sure as little damage is done as possible to the surrounding areas if the rumors are true and the Hell Portal that was once sealed in the depths of the castle dungeon is indeed open again. Leaving such a gate open to such a plane is foolish and dangerous and it runs the risk of letting out something exceptionally deadly like a balor demon or worse if the gods have truly forsaken us. No matter what I find down there, I shan't give up until the castle is cleared again and I make sure that gate has not opened again. To do anything less is to sully my family name. Entry made by Giselle Daermon N'a'shezbaernon, or Giselle Do'Urden. Closing the book after putting her writing supplies away, Giselle looked up to the starry skies as her hand clutched at the silver pendant that hung on a silver chain around her neck that was the head of a unicorn facing to the left as she offered a silent prayer to the one goddess that held court only because she was the closest to her core principles and the way she viewed the world. It felt right to her heart, and Giselle, finished with that, pulled her bedroll out after hanging her heavy traveling pack from a tree branch, out of reach of most predators before turning in for the night. Keeping an ear open for any trouble however since she was far from safety, Giselle slept lightly but fully enough that if nothing interrupted her that night, she'd be ready for the morrow, letting her small fire continue to crackle and spark quietly a little ways off. The sounds of the night, of insects and other creatures only served to lull her to sleep rather than keep her awake since she was no stranger to the road. All in all, despite the loneliness that crept up on her, the woman smiled contently since in all honesty, she wouldn't have had it any other way at that moment. -------------------------------------------------- Chapter 2. The dream started again, just like clockwork for the past month. It started the same as always, Giselle bound hand and foot, naked as the day she was born, to a four poster and beautiful canopy bed that was covered in dark red sheets piled high with black lace pillows. The fact her scar covered body was open to anyone since her....last bad relationship was bad enough since her heart had nearly stopped then, was racing now as she fought against the soft but strong ropes that held her spread eagle to the bed, but the fact there was a woman that seemed....wrong in some fundamental way approaching her with a black as night candle on a gold stand was something else entirely. Climbing on the bed next to her, the raven haired, pale skinned woman who's eyes were red as blood, just as naked as Giselle was currently, leaned in close and flicked her tongue across her right sharply pointed ear, making the half Drow moan quietly despite her efforts to remain as still as possible as the woman next to her nibbled on the lobe, making her dark skin quiver as goosebumps broke out along her flesh. She had never done this with another woman before, yet Giselle was powerless, her warrior training having no foothold against the sensual assault this ultimately strange and alluring woman held over her as the woman in question bite her ear, eliciting a sharp gasp as she broke the skin, her back arching briefly before she settled back against the sheets, her deep brown eyes closing as pleasure started to pulse thick in her veins more and more. The woman beside her let her tongue lap up the spilled drops of sweet elven blood, getting quite the rush out of the mixed heritage this warrior gave to the pale skinned temptress, like a fine vintage wine that had aged to perfection over the years. A hint of magic was in this one's veins, as well as a long and arduous but ultimately fulfilling life mixed in with tragedy born of heartbreak. The woman could drink from this vessel for a long time and never grow bored of the taste. Hearing the raven haired beauty whisper in her ear, Giselle could only lay there, bound not just physically in this dream, but some other force held her there as well as the woman beside her held the flaming candle stick above the meeting of her shaved thighs. "Submit to me.....and realize such pleasures you could only hope to find in your darkest dreams." Then the first drops of black wax fell and Giselle opened her mouth and howled, thrashing wildly as that first drop had landed precisely against her swollen clit, sending her over the edge just as the woman beside her had wanted and had done every night since . The dream always diverged after that first drop touched her flesh, and no matter how many times it happened, Giselle was never prepared for it as the heat of the wax and the woman's attentions to her body always left the normally disciplined mind and body in a state of bliss and covered in sweat when she woke up. Tonight, the woman put the candle stick down after that first climax and slowly crawled over the dark skinned woman's right leg, purposely dragging her own smooth sex over her thigh before situating herself between Giselle's own. She knew what was coming, but she didn't want this....most of her didn't want this. With each successive night however, Giselle's resistance to the raven haired woman's prowess slipped a little more, and she knew that should they ever meet in person and she somehow ended up at the woman's mercy, Giselle would be unable to stop her from doing anything she wanted to her....just as she was now. Leaning down slowly, her large, perfectly shaped breasts swinging like pendulums as she moved so smoothly, Giselle tensed up and tried to find some way out of this but was again silenced as the woman's tongue lapped at her folds, slowly, drawing out each flick of her tongue as she went from the bottom to the top up to her swollen clit before going back down. Giselle could only moan heatedly as pleasure flooded her body like liquid fire, melting her insides until all that was left was a puddle of warm goo. Panting hard and erratically, the dark elven woman couldn't fight for long against her body's reaction to the woman between her thighs who was even then picking up the pace of her licks, as well as the depth of them as her fingers pulled her pussy lips open gently, her well manicured nails dragging across her flesh only adding to the bliss she was feeling as she tried to hold on for as long as she could, knowing what was going to follow as soon as she came again. The woman had a tendency to bite when she was shaking from whatever climax that she was forced to endure, and tonight was no different as Giselle arched her back and screamed as pure ecstasy flooded her to the core. It wasn't nearly over though since the woman that had done it didn't let her come down off of her peak, and immediately sunk twin fangs into a vein that was right by Giselle's sex she hadn't known existed nor could bring such a high level of pleasure when used by someone like this woman as it was being used then. She didn't know where one climax ended and the next began, or if it was all one long drawn out affair, but by the time it was over, Giselle was nearly unconscious, her sharp vision blurry and her breathing purely done on instinct now since she could barely form two coherent thoughts at that moment as the woman crawled up her body slowly. Their breasts touched, hardened nipples caressing each other as she moved up, and the half Drow could only groan as her extremely sensitive skin and the nerves underneath quivered, only sending her into a mini climax before the raven haired woman was at her ear again, lightly resting her whole body on top of Giselle's own. "Remember me....and when we meet face to face...you will be powerless to stop me." Giselle didn't doubt the woman's seductive and sensuous voice since she had no strength to keep her eyes open, let alone the means to fight if she had wanted to as the woman on top of her gently caressed the left side of her face before gently, slowly forcing her head to the right before leaning in to sink her fangs into her neck.... Waking up with a scream on her lips, Giselle sat straight up and quivered like a taut bowstring, panting and still feeling that woman's teeth on her neck although every time there was no mark on her body to tell that anything had happened to her. It was all in her mind, but it always felt so real. Putting her left hand against her face, the half Drow closed her eyes and tried to still her racing heart, her entire body still flush with the ecstasy that woman....no, she was no woman...that vampire had forced upon her. It took several long minutes, but eventually she was able to relax and lay back down, the sun still far from rising, and she was still tired. That was something else that bothered her about the nightly visits from her unknown vampire lover....if she could really call that strange woman that, she always felt exhausted and dizzy, as if she truly had been fed upon as well as given such an intense sexual experience that made her mouth dry and her body ache for more, stopping short of being completely sated despite how good it always felt. Forcing it all from her mind as best she could, Giselle eventually found her way back into blissful sleep, and was not interrupted again by anymore dreams and dark haired beauties or women of any kind.