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Sisterhood Ch. 01

By: Dark_Rose90



~The following is completely fictional. Any likeness to any persons or event is coincidental and unintentional.~

"Will you get up already, Cody?" My sister called from the hallway, thtough my closed door.

"Just a minute." I couldn't let her see me as I currently was. I was wearing old clothes I had "borrowed" from her bag of unwanted things in the shed. I was dressed in a pink t-shirt reading "Princess" and a cut off blue denim skirt. Underneath was a lacy black thong and matching bra filled with my homemade breast forms, knee-highs filled with rice. I had a shoulder lenght blonde wig over my head and black boots up to my thigh. 

My name is Cody and I am an 18 year-old closet transexual. Tomorrow was going to be the last day of high school and ended up being the last day of life as I knew it. My step-sister was a bout to discover my biggest, life-long secret.

"Come on, Cody. We're going to be late." My sister, Lizzy, came into my life five years ago. And though we've had our differences, we've been rather close. Most sisters share everything and have that one fond memory that sticks out. Ours was coming. Much faster than I had ever planned. I got dressed for school and we left.

***

We had just gotten home from a long day of exams. My siter and I were alone for the weekend as we were hosting a graduation party tomorrow night after school. We were setting up the house when it started.

"Hey Cody, can you come with me to the shed? I need to get some decorations."

"Sure."

When we got there, all of her bags of unwanted things were lying out in the open. Before I could say anything, she began questioning me.

"So. Why are these open? And why are some of my clothes missing from them? You can tell me, Cody. I won't judge. I'm your sister after all."

"Um I... I... I'm... your sister too, I guess. Its been like this for a while. I've always wanted to be a girl. Even before you came to live with us."

"Hmmm..." Then she shocked me even further. "Take these into your room. You can have them all. I'll help you anyway I can. But you have to swear to do exactly everything I tell you to do."

"Okay. I will. Thanks, Lizzy... By the way, I like the name Isabella."

"Well I'm gonna call you Izzy. Our names will rhyme then, hehe. Tomorrow, at the party, you're going to learn how to be a woman the way only I and experience can teach you."

I took everything into my room and organized it all. I couldn't believe I had a complete feminine wardrobe now. Thankfully, out body types were so similar. Thinking about what Lizzy said, I shaved my body all the way down that night and went to sleep happily in my new pajamas.

***

The school day was completely uneventful. It was finally time to get ready for the party. We had made up a lie that I was going to be out for the weekend. While I was actually upstairs, slipping on my new little black party dress. I wore my lucky black thong and bra underneath and stuffed my cups with the forms. Although this time, it was under a nude suit that looked seemless and made me look I had real breasts. The bra fit nicely and I was never more excited. I fixed my blonde wig and then applied my makeup perfectly. When I was done, I strapped on my black stilettos and went to meet Lizzy in her room. When we looked at ourselves in the mirror, we looked like twins. The only difference was her jet black hair compared to my light blonde. Our outfits matched perfectly. Our heels clicked in unison as we headed down to the party.

Before long, I had just as many guys flirting with me as Lizzy had flirting with her. We decided to hold a little contest and the lucky two winners would go upstairs with us. I was so lost in the moment I hadn't yet realized what would happen next.

The two contest winners were Mark, a good-looking guy I knew from my biology class, and Stan, an equally good-looking guy I knew from the play he did with Lizzy. We found out that he had a secret thing for "trannies" through the contest, which made him a winner. When we got upstairs, Lizzy introduced me as Izzy and told them what I was and that this was my first time with a man. She also said she'd be teching me the perfect ways to please a man. We were in her room, which had a king-size bed set up in it. There was plenty of room for two couples to have sex to their hearts content. And that's exactly what happened next. 

"Okay, Izzy. Lesson one. The blowjob. I always like to give the head a little kiss first, to get him excited." She did just that to Mark's dick now in her hand. I reached out and grabbed Stan's and brought it to my head. I kissed it as Lizzy had done to Mark's and from that moment, as my glossed lips touched the head of his cock, I knew that this was what was right. Following Lizzy's lead, I opened my lips and began to run my tongue down Stan's shaft. I licked his cock like a giant lollipop and then took it's now fully hard eight inches into my mouth. I began to bob my head up and down, watching Lizzy do the same. Before long, we had the perfect rhythym down as Lizzy and I bobbed in unison takins Stan and Mark's cocks deeper into our throats. 

"Now for step 2, my darling sister." Lizzy stated, pushing Mark onto the bed. I did the same to Stan, pushing him right next to mark. Both Lizzy and I dropped our dresses, and then our thongs. "Okay. First we're gonna teach you how to ride. Here. Lube up." I applied the lube to Stan's throbbing cock and some into my ass and straddled him, my cock body facing forward, looking down at his face. "Now just sit down slowly and go all the way til' you're asscheeks are touching his groin." I did so, sitting down Slowly and taking in every minute of this feeling, as well as taking in Stan's 8 inch cock. "Good. Now come back up slowly. Like this." We rose in unison, and then back down in rhythym. We kept going faster and faster bouncing up and down together, here breasts bouncind in her bra as my forms did the same. We were bouncing for what seemed like an hour when Mark and Stan flipped us over onto our backs and began plowing us simultaneously, Stan in my ass and Mark in Lizzy's pussy. The two kept fucking us in rhythym for an hour. After which they both buckled, filling their condoms with cum. Well Mark filled his condom, but Stan's broke and the most amazing feeling washed over me as I felt my ass fill with the warm. sticky, white fluid.

"Nice job, Izzy. I think you're a natural."

"Oh, Lizzy. Thank you. I've never felt so great. That was amazing." She smiled as we both went down, licking our escorts cocks clean of cum. The rest of the night was equally amazing. after we got cleaned up and dressed, we went back down to the party. The new dynamic duo of Izzy and LIzzy sucked and fucked at least three other guys each that night, having differen contests like who could make their man cum first.

I woke up the next morning in my bed, still in my dress and heels. My thong was missing but my wig was somehow still in tact. Just then, Lizzy walked into my room.

"Get cleaned up. I have a surprise for you." She smiled wickedly and turned away, leaving me to strip and get ready for my shower... Wait a minute. Surprise??

Sisterhood Ch. 01



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

Please be warned, this is not a fluffy elf story, but it is meant to be fun in a way. While the graphic sex doesn't start immediately, I promise it will get there. FYI only, a Drow, aka Dark Elf, is a dark-skinned, white-haired elf that lives far below ground in the Underdark, a place described more in "Forgotten Realms." The society is Matriarchal, and as one of the "evil' fantasy races, they are not known for their niceness.

******

When I think about it now, only They could have deterred me from killing the Matron of House Thalluen and my last remaining older sister, Kaltra. I wonder if my mother had known that at the time? It was very likely; very few power shifts are truly unintentional among the Drow. We could experience unexpected results, but there was always an original, planned intent involved among the Matrons.

I was barely eighty years old, and already I had managed to trick the firstborn daughter, Juarinia, to stumble to her death. I'd gotten away with it, I believed, because I hadn't made any allies who could betray me. Instead, I had discovered she had a rather severe aversion, something she'd tried for nearly two centuries to keep secret, with good reason. It had killed her in the end. Better now than when she was Matron, though; she risked the rest of the House with such a weakness.

My mother, my Matron...she knew me well enough; she had spoken with me more than her other children, drawn in narcissistic fascination to her closest mirror image. I was Thalluensareci—the third born daughter of our House—and probably the one most capable of succeeding her, bold enough to make a difference in the status and power of Thalluen. She knew that. But she dared not yet proclaim me Thalluendara, "The Kiss of Thalluen," the Favored One in spite of the birth order, for that would count the span of my life in less days than I had fingers while I was still so young and unpracticed among the intrigue of the Nobles. Juarinia would have seen to that, and Kaltra would have helped her.

I still remember waking up to Kaltra nervously holding my wrists, pressing them down into the mattress as I lay in my reverie, and seeing my two sisters above me. Juarinia liked to practice on me. She was to be a Priestess of Lolth, she fully expected that. Whatever new talent she felt she discovered, whatever new ritual she wanted to "play" at, as if she could pretend to feel the power of Lolth so early, I was her chosen altar. Most of it was wishful toying and mild torture without the power to bring much to bear, except for one successful potion that I still think she must have had a wizard make for her. She couldn't have done so well on her own.

It was a compulsion potion that silenced me from being able to speak about Juarinia's secret visits. My body suffered almost nothing permanent, nothing visible anyway, and after my sister died the effect finally released my tongue, if I should ever choose to speak of it. So far, I had not. A Drow's innate creative potential for laying invisible marks is legendary even among our own kind.

That was probably why I'd gone into weapons training; not magic, not religion. I didn't want to be near her until I could defend myself and repay her...preferably with permanent marks. I wanted her to die.

And so she did, without my blade ever touching her.

Kaltra was devastated in a way I hadn't anticipated; she had been broken by Juarinia before I was born, became her first "follower." It was no wonder that her hastily orchestrated ambush failed so miserably. Kaltra couldn't honestly expect that she would succeed our Matron of the house; I figured Mother would live on until I had a chance to take her place. I watched for a chance, but within a week everything changed.

I would have done it, you know; killed both her and Kaltra and finally have a challenge that fed my soul in the ruling of House Thalluen. I was furious when my Matron sent me away after the attempt on my life, away to live at the courts to act as her representative. I was furious that Kaltra was allowed to live! Unlike me, she'd actually been caught!

Weak, both of them. I'd thought I knew my mother, thought she was smarter than this: to just send me away on a messenger's errand, to listen to sniping and backbiting at the courts? It was a waste and an insult!

Despite my attitude going in, though, I soon found that I liked uncovering secrets in addition to increasing my martial skills. It was, after all, a secret which had undone Juarinia. A secret could be just as deadly, just as crippling, as a sword or an arrow... The satisfaction and power of holding a secret worth keeping until just the right moment...it was like killing Juarinia all over again. Each time.

I still planned to go back and take my place in our House, planned to return soon... but the games and intrigue of the courts kept me occupied and allowed fifteen whole years to pass by without my concerning much over what my mother and sister were doing. I was using my mind and my talents; my subtlety and charm were constantly refined with the practice. The skills I was learning would always work to my advantage, I knew. Only the most intelligent, insightful, and anticipatory Drow survived Lolth's Games long enough to gain any power, and more, to hold that power for longer than a fortnight.

It occurred to me later that it might've been this that my Matron had sent me away to learn. True, perhaps I could have taken her House from her at a tender eighty years old...but I wouldn't have held it for long.

As the realization that I was not yet experienced enough for my ambitions settled in and warred with my impatience to move sooner rather than later—leaving me in a brief window of indecision—one of the Red Sisters approached me during a celebratory dinner and gathering in the Palace of the Valsharess.

I was standing on one of the balconies alone, overlooking the Underdark City. It wasn't much of a view, truth be told. There was noise and movement that I could feel in my bones and along my nerves, distant and almost immaterial until it might come close enough to be a threat in the dark. There were clusters of lights here and there; bright points in a massive cavern where I couldn't see the ceiling. Fire torches or magical light blinked within the city because sometimes the other senses weren't enough, and light in small doses could reveal mysteries of color and shade. Color like my eyes.

Until Juarinia had held a candle close to her youngest sister's face—my face— until she actually sat on my chest and let the candle drip onto my skin, as I wept from the pain of the brightness and the burn of the hot wax, no one had known my eyes were "blue." She had told me then; she held up a mirror. My eyes weren't red or copper, as was the norm; they were blue.

The Matron heard of it in a roundabout way—certainly not about the circumstances—and commented that the "sky" of the Surface was that color, too, at least according to those who returned from forays to the world above. I tried to imagine it and failed. The invisible ceiling above us held no natural light, no "sun," no "stars." As vast as it might be, it's a dark city, so one may not be sure exactly how far it extends, even from standing and gazing out on a balcony at the Palace.

As I stood on that balcony now, I could see the Web Garden directly below me. I could see the glittering designs which actually managed to absorb and reflect the icy blue florescence of the cave lichen growing in patches among the dressed stone benches and sculptures. Spiders specially bred for the Valsharess had made those designs, their tiny minds just magical enough to understand they couldn't make the same web twice. One could almost get lost studying those intricate designs.

I jumped at hearing the Sister clear her throat; I hadn't even known she was there, or how long she'd been there. I would bet she was pleased about that. The Red Sister was both beautiful and terrifying in her dress uniform, though I'd never admit that. She looked to be perhaps twenty or thirty years less than three centuries, her snow white hair was tied back tight and close to her head, her well-sculpted face severe and her red eyes unyielding. The ornate designs on her leather armor were every bit as captivating as the Web Garden below us, and I knew that in true light it would be blood red leather. She had all the tools of her profession: her gloves, protective yet supple, her belt of mysterious pouches, her crossbow pistol, her dagger of choice... her whip.

"Sirana Thallensareci."

I felt my stomach clutch protectively against my recent meal; I suddenly wondered if I'd just eaten something I shouldn't have. I usually only saw a few Red Sisters at a time, though I knew there were many more, unseen. As the Valsharess's elite assassins and Palace guardians, this Sisterhood was among the most skilled and the most feared for what they did. Perhaps only the High Priestesses and the Valsharess herself inspired more fear.

And this Red Sister had called me by name.

I answered, "Yes, Red Sister? What may I do for you?"

"You may come with me."

I quickly played over the evening dinner party in my head. I combed over the last few days at court. Had I somehow insulted the Valsharess indirectly? Had I insulted someone close to her without realizing it? I stepped lightly at court, and even the couple times when I actually stepped in something and couldn't talk my way out of it, I usually chose to take the "young and ignorant" punishment over trying to convince someone it wasn't how they thought it was. Because it usually was. But give them their satisfaction then and there, and the grudge was back in my courtyard, on my timetable.

If there was a slight or a grudge here, though, I wasn't seeing any obvious mistakes on my part. Perhaps the insult had been invented.

I could do nothing but accompany the Red Sister to wherever we were going. At one point, as we were entering a part of the Palace with which I was unfamiliar, the Valsharess's assassin Called the Darkness around her, and I felt her take my arm in a grip like elvish steel. I'll admit my heart jumped into my throat; she had effectively blindfolded me. I could see nothing, and I knew this also meant she could literally walk to where she was going with her eyes closed.

I started counting steps and turns in my head. I couldn't help it; it was automatic. Calling the Darkness—when almost any Noble could do it—wasn't an insurmountable advantage. If I can't see then neither can you. Just open your other senses; they're often just as good.

"Stop that," the Red Sister hissed and struck me on the back of my head with what was probably the hilt of her dagger. When I stumbled, she hauled me around several times in a circle until I was dizzy then forcibly pushed me back until I fell. She took my bare ankle and started dragging me. Already my revealing dinner costume and intricate hair were mussed beyond repair, although I don't think I cared about that as much as some of my other acquaintances would have.

I was completely disoriented after the shuffling and skidding and struggling on the polished stone. "Let me up!" I blurted, getting sore and frustrated. "I would rather walk, and you've done your job, Sister! I have no idea where I am!"

She dropped her knee right into my stomach, and my breath was hurled to a forceful stop. "You have no idea what my job is, little one. Do not make the mistake of assuming I'm just a fetch."

Her voice was only a hiss, but in the absolute darkness it seemed louder, penetrating, and I shuddered.

"I apologize, Sister," I gasped immediately when I had reclaimed enough air to do so. I could be prideful and I could be stubborn, but never to the point as to only make things worse for myself by insulting someone who had the obvious advantage and far greater skills. "May I please walk again? Red Sister...it would be easier on both of us."

She hauled me up by one arm and I was wobbly enough to need her strict guiding arm as we continued walking forward (backward?) in Darkness. For the moment, my other senses were rattled and useless to me. At least I became aware of the door in front of my nose in time to not hit it. It smelled of stone and tasted of magic, hardly made a noise as it moved to the side; I supposed that we disappeared into the very walls. Then I felt the floor drop beneath my slim, slippered foot and I started counting stairs downward.

I wanted so badly to ask where I was being taken, and why. I started to wonder if I should have attempted to run from the balcony, if I'd lost my only chance of doing so. Of course...where would I go? Secrets were as difficult to keep in the Valsharess's Palace as they were in the city as a whole, and fugitives were among the best known secrets. There was nowhere to go, and sooner or later you were always caught.

The urge to flee took some deep breathing on my part to get under control. I'd done nothing to justify feeling so scared; if I showed it, it would be a presumption of guilt. I could hear one of my court elders' voices, low and husky and threatening, "So...what are you afraid the Valsharess will find out, little Noble? Everyone has at least one thing. Tell me yours."

Nothing. Nothing at all. If ever there was a daughter that followed the way of her mothers and grandmothers, it was me. For what it was worth, I was loyal, and only turned on the weak to make my House strong. I knew it could be much stronger so the weak had to die, like clipping off the rotting limbs of a fungal tree before the whole structure collapsed in a mist of nauseous spores.

After eighty-three steps, the floor leveled and I sensed the tight walls retreat, the air become less close. My right arm hurt where the Red Sister still gripped it; she led me to come mysterious point on the floor, and we stopped.

"Stay."

I stayed; I waited quite patiently for all that I was trying not to lose my meal in a fit of heaves. I closed my eyes; it made no difference if I could see or not, but at least it helped with the slight vertigo. I listened; I realized I could hear breathing. Not just the breath of the Red Sister who'd collected me, but that of several more. Maybe four. I slowly realized that a reddish hue had materialized behind my closed eyelids; I knew that the Darkness must have receded and beyond there was true light. I hesitated.

"Open your eyes, Sirana."

I did and I immediately flinched and felt tears well up and start to drip down my cheeks; the stinging light came from candles, several score of them in a large, circular room empty of furnishings. Funny thing about tears; no adult Drow ever assumed or admitted they were anything but a physiological response to irritation. They were never from an emotion, a feeling, and if they were, you immediately became prey. It was only a matter of time.

It took time to adjust my eyes and be able to take in the details around me. The walls were dressed stone and draped with the Crest of Lolth, the standard of the Valsharess, and that of the Red Sisters. The black floor had been polished to such a shine as to be able to see your reflection in this light, as if you were staring down at yourself in an underground pond, as if you were standing on the surface of black water.

There were a total five Sisters in front of me; they stood five good paces in front with the one who'd brought me standing on the outside right of the other four. All except one were no less than a century older than me, and the uniform steel of their expressions practically bled their experience in using the weapons at their hips. The youngest one was perhaps one hundred fifty, about Kaltra's age. She was the only one from whom I could glean any emotion in her face. It was sympathy.

That couldn't be a good sign.

"Your dining gown is unsuitable, Noble. Please remove it."

I blinked in the candlelight, wondering if my ears were as likely to trick me in the light as my eyes were. The one who had given me the order, the eldest one in the middle, hissed and strode forward. I took an involuntary step back when she drew her dagger.

"Stop!" she barked and I obeyed. She pointed downward and I followed her gaze. There was a subtle inlay of garnet-colored stone that formed a diamond about a pace and a half wide, and I was standing right in the middle of it.

"Step outside that diamond before I tell you and your blood will be thrown by the cup back into your own face until it's all you see and smell and taste as you drain out."

I centered myself in the diamond and looked warily at the decorated dagger she held as if it were part of her own body. I had the thought to ask a question, another version of "why have I been brought here?" but now was bad timing for it. I glanced up at Lolth's Crest, at the hourglass design on the back of a large black spider. The answer was likely here, for there were two reasons for that Crest. First: to feel Her bite and die. Second: to feel Her bite and live. This eldest Red Sister likely knew which one for which I was here, but she wouldn't tell me. Even I knew that was against the rules of the Game.

"You heard me, didn't you, Sirana? Or would you like me to assist?" The dagger glittered in the firelight as she made a slow slashing gesture.

My hands rose simultaneously and pulled the elegant silver straps off my otherwise bare shoulders. My pale gown was thin and flowing, technically covering me from bust to toe, though it took only a squint to begin to see the details of skin and curve beneath. It wasn't an unusual dress by any means, actually something of a classic for any formal affair. Once it was off my shoulders, it took very little to let it drop completely to pool around my feet. Without being asked, I also stepped on the heels of my slippers to slide my feet out of them.

The eldest Red Sister nodded approvingly and gestured her hand smartly to the side. I kicked the gown and slippers out of the diamond. She circled around me, studying my nudity critically. I knew I looked charming as my mother had at my age, I knew I had my share of jealous rivals, and I had never had a functional male Drow unable to respond to my beauty.

But I wasn't at all sure that was what she was studying.

"No hidden weapon?" she asked, possibly surprised.

I hesitated again but reached up and pulled a long, thin needle from within the white braids of my complicated hairstyle. She held her hand out for it and I gave it to her cautiously, trying very hard not to risk pricking her with it. She actually smiled, and I could see the creases at the corners of her eyes. Despite the warm color of candlelight, I could also tell there were some blond streaks in her hair. She was older than I thought. She sniffed the needle.

"Gauric's ointment," she chuckled, passing the weapon to another Sister who dropped it in a basket along with my clothes. "Enough to send anyone to worshiping their private throne for the better part of the night." She returned a hard stare to me. "Is that all?"

"Yes...uh..." I realized I wasn't completely sure what to call her. Her armor was just different enough from the others to make me doubt simply calling her a Red Sister. "Yes, it is."

"Take down your hair. Undo every braid."

That was almost as meticulous and tedious as when the servants had styled and put up my hair earlier before the dinner. I came very close to yanking on certain snarls in intense frustration and anxiety but only had to glance at the Sisters watching me to refocus and tug gently on the strand that would do the most good. Their poise and self-control was inspiring in a way, and they were observing my every facial tick and eye blink.




Sisterhood Ch. 01



Given enough time, my hair was free-flowing and covering my shoulder blades, the ties and pins added to the basket. I was then instructed to remove my jewelry; the youngest Red Sister held out the basket so I could drop them among my other effects. The eldest Sister stepped behind me and combed her fingers carefully through the white tresses several times; I knew she was searching me, but it felt good in a way and I sighed to ease some of my tension.

Then I felt her gloved hand on the back of my neck, applying pressure. "Be so kind as to take hold of your ankles, Sirana."

I nearly spun around; the muscles in my pelvis flexed protectively as I understood that she had one more search to do. She squeezed my neck hard, prevented me from turning, and roughly forced me to bend over. She kicked at my ankles like a beast of burden to get me to widen my stance, so my toes would touch the side points of the diamond. I'd honestly seen plenty of males placed in this position. I'd even ordered it; it was fun, it was humiliating, especially for the reluctant ones.

Not so fun when it was me, and probably meant to be more humiliating.

"Take hold of your ankles, Sirana. Don't make me say it a third time."

My hands grabbed at their instructed purchase, and I tried explaining, "I don't have anything inserted right now, Red Sister."

She ignored me. I felt the soft leather of her gloved fingers trace my sex; she was gathering what moisture there was. It wasn't a lot; I believe I was still too scared. She pressed a finger into me and I cringed at the discomfort as she felt around inside, satisfying herself that there wasn't any foreign object currently stored in my birth canal. One could be surprised how often there was in any given Drow; I couldn't blame this Sister for checking, or for being thorough.

This accepting attitude also allowed me to anticipate that she would check my third orifice as well, so I didn't tighten up at the first probe to where it would only hurt me if she had to force it in. Instead I relaxed, allowed the digit to penetrate me more easily. It wasn't slick enough and was very uncomfortable, painful, but it also didn't last very long. I breathed a sigh of relief when she withdrew.

"Good, Sirana. Good. Now get on your knees and spread them out. Touch your feet together. Now hands on the stone, bring your palms together, elbows out. Touch your forehead to your hands, keep your eyes down. Make yourself fit the diamond, imagine you are a spider waiting in her web.

"Now, continue to wait until we return."

I heard no snickering as I complied and it did make me wonder... There was no additional pat or touch, no final, pointless insertion from her. They weren't just playing with me?

She—and they—glided away. And I waited.

(continued)



Sisterhood 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 2010

This story is continued. 

******

They left me there like that, the candlelight creating dancing shadows that swirled over the polished floor and teased my sensitive eyes. I don't know where they went, or even how they went, but it was soon apparent I was the only living thing in the chamber.

Time drifted, as I had little else to do except look at the candles' reflections and the shadows and shift my knees as they started to complain about the hard floor. I was aware of my nakedness, of my breasts hanging close to the ground and the nipples becoming turgid of their own accord before softening again, of the relatively cool air caressing my feminine parts still tingling from the cavity search.

Nudity rarely bothered me; the Drow were beautiful, and we have a fascination with beauty like our surface counterparts are said to have. The only time it had ever bothered me was when Juarinia wanted me unclothed for something; that was the only time I wanted desperately to cover myself. It wasn't shame, just a simple desire for any armor I could have.

I suppose I wanted some armor right now; the position which I was to hold (and which seeing the Red Sisters' standard was enough to make me obey) was a slave pose, one of supplication I hadn't ever needed to perform before, even at a Lolth ceremony. Being naked only intensified the feeling that I was expected to act the servant, and my fate lay at the whim of the eldest Red Sister who'd commanded me to kneel.

My back was starting to get stiff and I stretched it first upward, lingering, then arched my back down, trying to rotate my shoulders and hips a bit. Now if I could just give my knees some relief—

The deep, throaty hum behind me, as well as the puff of hot breath on my inner thighs, pushed any thought of body aches out of my mind as I froze in mid-arch, unable to move for a moment as I realized something was in the chamber with me. I hadn't heard it enter. How could that be? How could it have gotten so close—?

A long, rough tongue rasped along the folds of my sex and the cleft of my buttocks, and I gasped in shock, finally able to make my body respond to my commands. I abandoned my position and spun in place, planting my rear on the ground—still within the diamond—and closed my legs, facing the creature that had licked me. A complex mix of revulsion and arousal spread from my chest down to my groin as I immediately recognized what it was.

A Draegloth. Half Drow, half demon, always the offspring of a new Priestess of Lolth, conceived during a ritual whose energy was strengthened by a congregational orgy. I'd been part of the congregation only once so far; it had been fun, intense, a gluttony of sensation almost enough to drown out the pleasure-pain screams of the Priestess as she completed her ritual.

Her Draegloth had been born only ten years ago; this one looked much older. Seeing it reminded me of the orgy, the complete abandon in which I'd coupled with several nameless Drow, and hence, the arousal. At the same time, I'd been fervently grateful I had no interest or talent in the priesthood, for I'd never have to couple with a demon to gain power. Or so I assumed.

Yellow, pupil-less eyes narrowed at me from a black, elongated face. It had sharp teeth and a snout; very little of the bestial face except for the dark skin and the mane of white hair resembled a Drow. It was muscular, taller and stronger than me, with big hands and feet and claws on each digit. Except for the hideous face, it really was well-formed, a balanced and sculptured specimen...and as my eyes drifted down I was reminded of what I'd heard: that all Draegloth are indeed born male.

He was certainly a ready male, his chest moving deeper and faster as if catching his breath, and he weaved from side-to-side as if waiting on me to do something. He even whined briefly. I wasn't sure he could talk.

I glanced around the chamber; it was still empty. Just me and the Draegloth, both naked, and him with an erection. He was breathing in my scent with obvious pleasure, even if he dared not do more than lean his head over the garnet border of the diamond without touching it. I had no idea what to do, what was expected. I still didn't know why I was here, if I was just to be toyed with in some twisted games before being killed for some imagined slight to some bitter crone, or if this was something more.

He leaned down and licked my ankle and I flinched though it hadn't felt bad, just different. When I kept staring at and studying him, he hissed and reached with his hand to stroke his erection a few times, perhaps to delay some of the ache that would come if he wasn't allowed release soon.

I watched, fascinated to a degree, but still not sure I could become interested in a half-demon that was scraping at my feet as if he were a pet begging for a pat on the head. It didn't make me eager to open my legs, honestly. There was no intelligent banter, no clever hunt, no power struggle and inevitable surrender. Games like that were what made me hot to couple. It would certainly take something more than whining to make me eager to bond with a Draegloth.

I could imagine, though, that if I was expected to do this for some unknown reason and we only sat here staring at each other until the Red Sisters returned, then they wouldn't be pleased with me. I'd be making things worse for myself...yet I couldn't simply go through the mechanics of mating just because they stuck a demonic cock in front of my face. The dead feeling between my legs, the resentment and distaste for the situation might be worse than any punishment they might give, because I would always remember it, possibly for centuries, and so would they. It could be used as a weapon against me if I lived. I had some pride, after all.

I decided, then, for my best interests that he had to do something to make me want him. And I had to communicate to him some hint of what that was. Already he was showing signs of discomfort and impatience, looking balefully at the garnet border he apparently couldn't cross past his shoulders. Muscles in his arms and shoulders flexed with tension.

I wondered what he would do if I was outside the border? Perhaps bowing and scraping for sex wasn't his first choice of seduction either.

I slid my foot toward the edge of the border; the movement caught his attention and his eyes were pinned to my progress. When I stopped just short of it, his yellow eyes glanced up at me but returned to my foot almost immediately as if he might miss the briefest opportunity of my toe reaching the edge of the border.

I felt my heart rate increase at the predator's gaze on my foot. Not just a dumb beast or a fawning pet. There was power there, something to give, something to take. He was half-Drow, I reminded myself.

Dare I do it? Did I have any idea what I was doing? Not really, I didn't, but I'd learned that fully half of gaining control of any situation was acting like I did. If nothing else, it would be more interesting than just sitting here...and it would be my choice. Risk nothing, gain nothing.

I scooted forward and thrust my entire foot outside of the garnet border. The Draegloth looked surprised for the split-second it took him to understand that I was his then he seized my ankle with one hot hand, yanking me almost completely out of the diamond with one pull. I was on my back staring up at him and kicked with my other free foot, striking him in his chest with my heel. He growled at me and dragged me the rest of the way out, close enough to him that he could kneel between my legs and lean over me. He bared his knife-sized teeth in a snarling, eager smile.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" I roared with all the bluster I could bring to bear, rising up like a snake and swatting him across the face open-handed.

The sound of the slap echoed perfectly in the chamber and he appeared truly dumbfounded and confused for as long as the echo took to fade. His grip loosened on my ankle and I slipped free, rolling to get to my feet to get distance, facing and glaring at him.

His snarl came back as he made eye contact with me; he charged me. I ran, and when he would get close to dragging me down, I would dodge and change direction. This could only go on so long in a bare, circular chamber, but it was enough to wind us. I could have dodged back into the diamond and gloated at him, but that would be a decision I couldn't reverse and I'd be there until—or if—the Red Sisters returned.

Instead I stayed outside the diamond and danced with the demon.

Before I got too tired, though, I spun around to charge back at him, throwing myself into his arms. It surprised him utterly, and I had my legs wrapped around his waist and one hand gripping his mane before he could throw me off. I drew back my free arm fully and slapped him again.

"You want to fuck me, Draegloth?! Do you?!" I shouted in his face, pouring every drop of venom and fury I could to increase the potency of the next hard slap. "Were you told that I was your reward for being such a good boy for the Priestesses? Huh, were you? Because I'll tell you right now, you brutish freak, I am NO ONE'S reward!"

I slapped him again.

He could understand what I was saying and I could actually read a familiar Drow expression on his dark face: essentially it translated as "How did you know that?" I've seen it quite a lot since coming to court. Sometimes I simply guess very well, or I get lucky. Sometimes I'm inspired during a heated rage, like I was now. Perception and intuition were twins I valued immensely.

"Tell you what, though," I said more calmly, almost soothingly, starting to smile as I felt his hands slide under my buttocks to support my weight better as he dug in his claws a little into my flesh. "Tell me your name, and maybe we can get to know each other better."

The Draegloth shook his head in refusal, a rough growl leaking from between his teeth along with a little saliva.

"You have one. All demons do," I replied firmly, "and I'm not asking for the one that binds you to this plane. I want to know what your mother calls you. If you and I are to join, I have to know that much."

He looked away from me; he couldn't help it. He'd been told he could have me and he had been eager to rut, but the repeated slaps—how I'd seen the new Priestess discipline her own young Draegloth in public once—had regressed him. Now he listened to me as he might his mother, his mind distracted from thinking I was just a hot sheath where he could sink his sword. He was confused.

I saw his eyes flicker toward a section of the candles and I noted the location. Someone was watching and listening, of course, and I was encouraged; if he looked to whoever was there for support, it meant I'd genuinely shaken him.

He wasn't really kissable on the mouth, but I pressed my lips into the side of his neck and tasted the oddly spicy flesh. I felt real excitement, now; the idea of mating with him in a similar manner to the ritual which had spawned him had real appeal to me. When power flowed between beings, lust rose as part of the high. I was far from the only Drow that found power exchange to be her aphrodisiac of choice.

I adjusted the way my body held to him, pressed my buttocks eagerly into his hands and pressed a warm sex against his softened genitals. There was a small but immediate response.

"Tell me your name, Draegloth," I whispered sensually to him, my eyes half-closed as my breathing increased and I kissed his skin, nipping at his collar bones.

My attentions and the continued swiveling and squirming of my hips against him brought him quickly back to the state he'd been in when he'd first lapped his tongue between my thighs. His breath heaved and he quivered a little, still standing and holding my weight; perhaps he was feeling muscle strain as well only didn't want to interrupt what I was doing.

I lined up his erection so the tip rested at the entrance of my body, and I held it there. He tried to give a thrust upward but I lifted myself with him so there was no further penetration, just my warm, wet nether-mouth caressing and teasing the sensitive flesh of us both. He started forcing my buttocks down and onto him, and I drew my hand back, threatening to slap him again. He stopped.

"I told you what I want," I panted. "I can stay in this sweet agony longer than you can, you know. I can even climax like this, no insertion needed. I'll get mine for certain, but you...? It's your choice, my good boy."

He blinked when I called him that.

The teasing went on for a good long while; he was in a furious state of arousal and couldn't do anything more subtle that try again to force me to sit on him, which I stoutly resisted and even had to strike him again.

It fascinated me that he wouldn't even try to smack me back, even though one unrestrained punch from him would likely knock me unconscious. He was very well trained. He once made a motion as if to kneel us both down on the ground and I hissed a challenge at him with enough venom to give him pause, and he stayed standing.

He wasn't easily swayed...not at all...but finally, finally—

"Kerse," he rumbled through a mouthful of teeth.

"So you can talk." I grinned, pleased. He couldn't be articulate, if that one harsh syllable was any indication...but it was good to know a Draegloth could speak. "Kerse. Your name, I take it."

"Ssirranna," he hissed back, the corners of his wide mouth rising in response.

So someone had told him my name.

I said, "We've a deal, then."

I impaled myself on him and groaned, wet enough by now that it had only taken one thrust to be balls-deep. He almost howled in relief and I felt his hands slide up to my back and the claws press in as he gripped me harshly. Kerse immediately knelt to lay us both down on the reflective floor, putting me surprisingly gently on my back and settling himself fully between my legs before he began to pound me with almost desperate need.

The rough, fast pace was exactly what I wanted; I climaxed within minutes, my scream of delight echoing around us. Kerse was driving hard into me and I was surprised he'd even lasted this long, even more surprised when he pulled back his lips to expose clenched teeth...and suddenly pulled out. I groaned in disappointment!

The Draegloth reached to grip and stroke himself to completion instead, spraying his seed across my buttocks to drain in a puddle beneath me on the polished floor as I felt his hot gasps on the skin of my neck and in my hair.

"What—?"

Then I thought understood.

Kerse wasn't allowed to spend himself inside his "reward." His mother didn't want to blatantly risk him siring offspring, no doubt for her own well-considered reasons.

It must have taken intense conditioning to put a block like that in one who was half-demon... Their lack of control during moments of lust was well known. It spoke an unsettling amount of power to whoever owned this Draegloth.

"Up," I panted. "Get off me."

He obeyed, lifted himself up and backward to sit on his haunches, his shoulders drooping with exhaustion.

"You're such a good boy, Kerse," I crooned as I sat up and reached out to stroke the side of his face with something approaching tenderness.

He made an unintelligible sound and tried to turn his face from my hand, though he didn't try very hard. The tone reminded me of an adolescent that was trying to shrug off an over-flattering compliment but responding to it nonetheless.

I'd won.

I heard soft footsteps, and the only reason I did was because one set reflected the quick gait of someone who was very agitated.

I looked over my shoulder and saw three of the Red Sisters returning: the eldest, the elder who had collected me, and the youngest. It was the middle one who was giving away her emotions in her walk. I stood up out of the puddle of ejaculate, aware of the cooling wetness that glazed my rear end but turning to face them nonetheless, my back straight with confidence.

"You're outside the diamond, Sirana," the eldest commented as the three stopped before me.

"Forgive me that I thought the adjustment necessary, Red Sister," I replied.

I thought she smiled. I wished I knew if that was a good sign or not. My collector, however, was scowling at me, but she muttered a harsh foreign word to Kerse. He bowed his head, standing to begin walking toward the darkness beyond the candlelight. I noticed that he did look behind him once, at me. Then he disappeared from sight.

"You were supposed to simply mate with him, not talk to him, not call him by his name!" my collector spat, pointing her finger accusingly.

"I didn't know that," I replied casually, enjoying her agitation and the fact that, whatever their goals were, I knew things weren't going according to plan.

"You've just made an enemy of his mother, young one," she continued. "He will be distracted by you whenever you're in his sight. She will not like that at all."

I shrugged. "Maybe I won't be in his sight again."

The middle Sister snorted. "You can pray."

I turned toward the eldest. "May I ask...who is his mother?"

The eldest shook her head. "You may not ask, it is not your place. But you may find out regardless." She began pacing around me again, studying me. "I see that Kerse scratched your back a bit."

I shrugged. I could feel the sting now, but at the time...it had felt good.

"You enjoy it rough?" She was behind me and touched her fingers to the sticky wetness on my backside, tracing the crease at my buttock and upper thigh, thoroughly coating two fingers with Kerse's spending.

"Where appropriate, Sister, yes," I replied a little cautiously.

"What about with more than one?" She walked around to the front again and popped her fingers into her mouth, tasting the Draegloth's seed with apparent enjoyment.

I shrugged again. "I've done it before."

"Simultaneously?" Her eyes twinkled wickedly as she smiled.

"Yes," I nodded. Every orifice had its own unique sensation. Sometimes when the need is intense, sometimes in ritual...you want those sensations all at once. Nothing else was powerful enough.

"Unusual for one so young. Sometimes such adventurous spirits take a while to mature. Oh," she added most casually, "you must clean up your mess, Sirana. This chamber is to remain dry and polished."

I looked at the small puddle, at the spray of Kerse's release, then back at the eldest Sister, who seemed immensely amused.

I could see why. I wasn't going to ask them for a cloth because I trusted my reading of the eldest: in this Game, it would be a mark against me even to ask. So I really had two choices, naked as I was: my hair, or my tongue. One would leave a stiff, ridiculous-looking mar to my gleaming white tresses for the rest of this ordeal; the other was a small performance and fleeting mental image for the other three. I decided to make it a very memorable one.

"Of course, Sister," my smile was as amused as hers, "forgive my lack of decorum."

I dropped to my hands and knees and leaned down to bring my lips in contact with the cool liquid. I slurped in loudly as if I was supping from a spoon, hummed in pleasure, then sucked in more. The floor was nearly dry already. I thought I heard both a giggle from the youngest and a sneering scoff, likely from my collector.

"Are you mocking us, Thalluensareci?" the middle Sister muttered through clenched teeth.

I lapped up the last bit, licked my lips and straightened up, sitting on my knees with my legs folded under me. I looked at them, not quite meeting their eyes but looking at the red leather armor of their chests. "Of course not, Red Sister. Why would I mock you? Who would dare? I'm only doing as instructed."




Sisterhood Ch. 02



My collector drew in breath to say something else, but the eldest raised her hand, gestured her to be still. Those aged, copper eyes were studying me intently, though she still held a bemused curve to her lips.

"Satisfactory, Sirana. Now be a good girl and take your position in the diamond again. You'll meet your new companions in due time."

I rose, walked slowly and (to all appearances) calmly back to the diamond, kneeling down where my knees immediately recognized the hard surface. I looked up to the three Sisters before putting my forehead on my folded hands, taking the slave's position. I still hadn't heard the youngest one speak, and again she had seemed to have some sympathy for me.

*Don't waste your pity on me,* I thought with some indignation.

This was nothing so far, child's play, whatever they were trying to do. Make me shriek in disgust at mating a Draegloth? Make me shy away from the eldest Sister's caress or refuse to taste the seed, as she already had done right before my eyes?

This is nothing. Bring those new "companions." I'm ready.

(continued) 



Sisterhood 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 2010

This story is continued. 

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

As before, time passed in the candle chamber though I was more tense this time as I continually expected someone or something to touch me again from behind.

I should have known the voice would come from right in front of me.

"Look up. Now."

The voice was male. Fully Drow, this time.

When I did look up, I could see nothing; I could smell him, though, feel the heat seeping off invisible flesh. Then I felt a hand seize my hair and painfully jerk me up straight. I almost shouted at him, immediately enraged—how dare he?!

...but then I felt the familiar, soft texture of an engorged glans being pressed against my mouth and I pursed my lips shut by reflex.

I still couldn't see anything that my other senses told me was there. I suppose it didn't bother me, that's often how it was in the Underdark, but it was a little surreal in the candlelight.

"Suck me, Noble," the disembodied voice hissed at me, both bitter and lyrical. "Open that privileged mouth and gag while I clog your throat. If you bite me, you fail, and the Red Sisters will come back at my word to finish you."

Briefly I felt cold. He sounded so confident and so very hateful. Would they come back as he said? Did he actually know enough magic to make himself unseen, yet still able to strike out without disrupting that spell? It could have been another Drow who had cast the invisibility spell on him, but...my gut told me it was him, his own magic. It was the surety in his voice, the anger and resentment blatantly obvious, and the satisfaction of knowing he would best me on his terms.

Borrowing another Drow's spell wouldn't make it all ring so true...

He had to be one of the wizards in the Tower, one who chafed at being born his gender, at being so powerful and valuable yet still possessing a lower status than the most incompetent Priestess.

All that rage was pent up and held in check only for fear of pain and death... and his intelligence and pride railing against the injustice. This one couldn't be swayed to hand over his control as Kerse had been; he would probably rather die.

By Lolth, I even remembered watching some of the punishments of a wizard who had overstepped his boundaries. He'd no doubt learned well, and the others would have heard, too. I could only imagine what this wizard might like to do when given permission to let his rage loose on a naked and solitary female...

An eye for an eye?

I had to decide in an instant, and I did: whatever it took to delay that rage. I squashed down my pride and arrogance for now. Whatever it took to gain the upper hand, eventually.

He'd barely finished threatening me when I took a breath and opened my mouth willingly to let the invisible flesh pass between my lips. He pressed in with a laugh and jammed my windpipe; it was just as well that I was holding my breath. I closed my eyes so that the fact that I could feel everything but couldn't see it wouldn't be so distracting. It was important that I be able to sense his body language, to read him without his face.

I swallowed his shaft with the enthusiasm of a novice Priestess at her first sacrifice. I swirled my tongue, reached up to massage his scrotum and sucked him as if I could pull his brains out through his penis. Likely what I was trying to do.

His grip on my hair tightened and he started guiding my rhythm, moaning and cooing at me. Every so often he would flick the edges of my pointed ears with his fingers; it was a sharp, disruptive pain that did no damage at all. Drow hate having their ears flicked.

He gasped, "Good...that's it...ah, young slit...ah...Yes, you'll do this until I say to stop. Then you'll turn around...spread open wide for me."

I hummed in acknowledgement, my mouth still full but able to breathe now and then, and I put my left hand between my legs, slipping a finger into my sex that was still wet from my union with Kerse. The wizard groaned, seeming to see it as he encouraged me to greater speed and abandon.

"You like this. Ha! ...always thought you control-addict Nobles really wanted to be forced at times... Make yourself hot...that's it...let me hear it, that squelching, drooling slit..."

In time I could tell he was trying to convince himself that it was time to pull out of my mouth and order me to turn around. It was in the way his breath would draw in as if to speak, but then I'd do something different and inventive with my mouth, and he'd sigh and let me go on for a few more strokes.

And a few more.

He was close now. It was now or never.

I pulled my well-lubed finger from my sex and quickly brought my hand up to slide it between the wizard's buttocks even as I distracted him by continuing to grope his sack. It only took a second to find the ring of flesh I sought.

"What—?" he gasped, flinching as I pressed my finger smoothly inside him.

He couldn't really complain; I had made it much more comfortable than the eldest Red Sister had done to me.

I immediately found the nut-like gland inside; the next second I massaged it and the wizard cried out, his control completely faltering. He started spurting down my throat. He was trying to pull my mouth off him by his fistful of hair, probably to mark my face if he couldn't do more to me, but I held tightly to his hips with my other hand and kept massaging his gland, swallowing his seed until he was done.

He tasted healthy; like an underground hot spring infused with my favorite spiced mushroom delicacy.

I sensed his body flinch when I removed my finger and pulled my mouth off him at last. He was gasping, finished and completely flaccid for the moment from the rate at which he'd shriveled in my mouth.

He slapped me. "You think you're so clever, do you?"

The wounded pride in his voice was palatable. I was glad I couldn't see his rage; it allowed me to look up at nothing and keep a calm, straight face.

"Why hide your identity, wizard?" I asked. "Are you afraid of retribution?"

"Retribution? From you?" He laughed, his disembodied voice echoing in the chamber. It was louder and angrier than it would have been if he'd been in control. "You're helpless here, Sirana. Your body belongs to us until the Red Sisters come to claim you. If they come to claim you."

Us, he'd said. That's right, I recalled there was at least one other, just as the eldest had promised. "If my body belongs to you, then yours belongs to me," I said baldly.

He laughed harshly. "Oh? Who is on her knees before me?"

"Who chose your moment of climax?" I smirked.

His voice spat hatred. "Try that while flanked on both sides, Noble."

Arms wrapped around me from behind; they were arms I could actually see this time, black and well-formed, the hands rougher and scarred.

Like the hands of a soldier.

Those hands slid from my hips up my belly and cupped my breasts as teeth bit hard into my shoulder. I leaned into him, getting a sense of his size and ability as my back and buttocks aligned with his front. He was certainly stronger than the wizard, but no taller, and I was still somewhat taller than each of them.

Out of my periphery, I caught a glimpse of a reasonably handsome face leering with eagerness. His erection settled comfortably lengthwise in the cleft of my backside and he pressed hard. I smiled as he pinched my nipples, twisted them roughly.

A wizard and a fighter.

The two really didn't mix that well; their methodology was too different even if they both wanted power over my body. Better for me; they would fight each other.

"So give it to me already, solider," I hissed in excitement over my shoulder, reaching back to dig my nails into naked flanks and well-sculpted buttocks. "What are you waiting for? Fuck me."

"When I decide, slit-sucker," he growled back, squeezing my breasts hard and grinding into me.

The problem with that statement was that he was even more excited than I was; his voice had quavered at the end. He managed to tease me for another thirty seconds or so, pawing without the best technique at the tuft of white hair at my crotch, but finally he just pushed me down flat onto my stomach, forcing my legs wide apart with his own before ramming his phallus inside me.

The soldier held me down with his weight; I cried out and struggled against him in order to egg him on, reaching out and digging my fingers into the garnet border as if trying to pull myself free of him.

He hardly needed the encouragement. He wallowed and slammed between my legs as though he were trying to fit his entire body inside.

"This...is how you control them, wizard," my soldier gasped, jarring me with every furious lunge, air forced out of me with each one. "Don't even...give them an opportunity to...fuck you back."

"Sooner or later you have the let her get up, grunt," my invisible magician retorted sourly. "What then?"

My fighter pulled out prematurely, just as Kerse, had and I grunted in displeasure. Then I felt him reposition his erection at my other hole and my eyes widened a bit.

He replied, "You make her too sore to be able to run after you."

"Stop that!," my wizard protested, "We agreed I would—"

"And she outsmarted you. It's my turn."

The soldier was pressing in hard, dilating my back sphincter very quickly. Even though I relaxed to allow it, even though he was slicked up from stroking inside my sex, the entry definitely hurt.

That didn't really matter so much to me, though; what was a little pain? I knew I'd cause much more than I was taking in my lifetime. I would see it stay that way.

I could handle this and I would get mine in return.

"Oh, Goddess!!" I shrieked as he rushed to bury his meat inside me, stretching me tight around him. Even I couldn't really tell if it had been a cry of pleasure or pain; "excitable agony" was the phrase that came to my mind. Still, I forced myself to refocus and relax the muscles of my pelvis again.

"Do it, ground-pounder!" I shouted impatiently at him. "Enough babble with the wizard! You weren't made to talk!"

He snarled, grabbed my hair fiercely and held my head to the floor, my right cheek pressed hard to the polished surface. He drew out part way and thrust back in between my buttocks, beginning his increasingly vicious tempo. It didn't take long for the nerves of my clutching ring to go mostly numb first, then finally begin to heat up in a way that was actually pleasant.

It was only then I could finally make very convincing sounds of pleasure. I was partly acting, true, but then again, the mind was a powerful stimulant by itself. Something I had learned long ago as a result of Juarinia's torture: how can you be an effective sadist if you don't know what the masochist is feeling?

"She's not going to break that way," the snide voice of the wizard commented as he watched the soldier plow into my backside.

The thrusting slowed, hesitated, but didn't stop entirely. He still wanted to finish, to climax, even if his purpose was something else.

"Keep going," I whispered, panting. "Don't stop."

His pace quickened again.

"Pull out, you meathead, you're doing exactly as she says!"

"Go squat on your wand, book boy! I'm going to glaze inside her innards because I can! Damn what she says!"

I heard my unseen magician blow out a breath in frustration. "Then roll her over at least, hold her on top of you and we'll double her."

After a beat, the warrior obeyed the wizard. He hooked his forearms at my underarms and locked his fingers together at the nape of my neck, clutched me tight to him, and rolled both of us. It was in my best interest to roll with him and make sure he didn't slip out.

I was layered in sweat where I'd been pressed to the floor, and my skin broke out into goosebumps as the cool air of the chamber washed over my front. The fighter was making it so I couldn't do much with my arms, and I was still impaled between my buttocks so at most I could kick at the unseen magician. But I didn't really want to kick at him; I kept my legs open, a mocking, challenging smirk touching my lips.

"Think you'll be able to control yourself this time, wizard?"

"You know, Sirana, perhaps I should return the favor," the wizard told me contemplatively and I felt him touch my inner thighs gently with both hands.

I admit I was surprised; his tone sounded a lot different than when I'd been kneeling before him. Perhaps he was catching on to how I was playing the two against each other, so they'd fight over me like two scavengers? If their mission was to "break" me through sexual misuse, they were doomed to fail miserably as they strove to out-do each other.

Could the wizard actually have let go of his domineering act long enough to stop and think for a minute? I might be in a bit of trouble if he could....

I still couldn't see him, not even a vague outline, but I could see the depressions his fingers caused on my flesh. I gasped when what had to be his entire mouth covered my sex and he started feasting. I'd have been willing to bet this bitter, angry, scholarly Drow could never show much enthusiasm for this particular chore, perhaps not even much skill, but I quickly discovered I would have lost that bet.

He had learned an extraordinary technique in his years.

"By Lolth...keep doing whatever you're doing, wizard," the solider almost wheezed near my ear, still holding me immobile. "She keeps clutching me hard! I think she likes it."

I did like it; very much, I did. One of his fingers had slipped inside my sex to press on a similar pressure point, much as my finger had been stroking his gland. His other hand was caressing and teasing my crown of fur, the thumb rubbing in gentle circles, stretching and stimulating the folds of skin cradling my center of sensation. Meanwhile, his mouth explored every point in between and around his hands... I could hardly keep track of each touch he made, inside and out; it varied smoothly and infinitely...

And with the fighter's prick up my ass at the same time, holding me open as it was...? Oh, I was in trouble.

I couldn't keep from writhing as they did this to me, and when he lifted his mouth off me three separate times, barely preventing me from climaxing, I actually whimpered.

"Just ask me, Sirana," he said softly, his breath a puff of hot air in the short, white hairs adorning my mound. He kissed my nether lips softly and I flinched just as he had with me. "Ask for it. Beg for release."

I wondered if I might actually beg him to let me over the edge? It was so tempting; the lust was strong enough to make all else seem exceedingly small.

But no...I'd taken control from him a while ago with my finger up his ass; I wouldn't give it back to him so easily!

The soldier was starting to get into the rhythm, too; he was following the wizard's lead, stroking in and out as the other sucked and rubbed and caressed, stopping when the scholar stopped. By the sixth aborted lead-up, the sixth time I was denied a climax, a loud groan of frustrated disappointment slipped out of my mouth.

Somewhere along the way, they had ceased being in such a hurry to subjugate me and decided to take their time humiliating me instead. I realized I still had to rely on the fighter's impatience; it was my only chance. He was fascinated, for the moment, with this new trick the wizard was demonstrating but he was the one who fully penetrated my backside and sooner or later his tender eggs would start hurting fiercely. He would be pining for release right along with me.

"Come on, Sirana," my fighter echoed his partner, and I almost sighed in relief when I heard that same quaver as before. He very well could break before I did.

He had to.

"However you want....to service me, boys," I murmured. "I can take... all the attention you're...willing to give."

At least I hoped so. I was almost floating in an altered state of mind, like when my sister would serve me a draught I didn't know what it was. My tongue was heavy and it took such effort to form words. It was pure practice that kept the same quaver from my voice.

With the comparison, my hated sister's voice came back to me in that haze. *You are so stubborn, Sirana...just let go. Submit.*

The ninth time he stopped me from cumming, I heard him rise up over me and felt something scalding hot graze my thigh. Then his hands grabbed those thighs to keep them open, and I felt his prick settle then squeeze into my other available hole. It forced a gasp from me and my eyes did widen from their half-lidded stupor. I felt his breath flow across my breasts as he gripped my hips and thrust into my sex every bit as hard as the fighter had. At my first serious squirming, in trying to get what I needed to climax, he withdrew and went back to eating me.

The wizard kept alternating like that! He would mouth and finger me for a while, then rise up and penetrate me, stroke in tandem with the fighter for several moments, and then withdraw to put his mouth and fingers back on me.

He wasn't letting me come, and I was hardly given time to catch my breath. Fortunately for me, the lubricant I was liberally producing was being at least partially transferred to my backside; otherwise I would have had much more concern about lasting and keeping the ultimate control of the situation.

I forced myself to think again, slowly wrenching my attention from between my legs. It was a monumental feat.

*Know that if you bite me, you fail.*

The wizard had said that at the beginning.

Fail what? He claimed they were attempting to "break" me, yet there was a lot they hadn't done that might work. They weren't disfiguring me, blinding me, weren't torturing me beyond a rough entry and a rougher fucking. No broken bones or cuts or severe bites... The sex seemed the point, the very grounds for the game of control, and they were holding to it.

Just like with the Draegloth. Just like at Court.

There were rules to this Game, and I'd established the challenge: I had chosen the wizard's moment of completion. Either I chose my own this time, or I prevented it from ever happening.

I'd win this Game; I knew it.

I went physically limp, exhausted, leaning my head back against soldier-boy's shoulder and letting my legs and arms relax to the sides, breathing deeply and still feeling them drive into me. The sudden passivity took some of the sustained tension out of me, but the stimulation was still there. If anything, the relaxation encouraged the blood to flow to the junction of my legs even more. However the physical signals, the ones my magician had been using to control my reactions, were no longer there.

"Awww, giving up, Sirana?" said the scholar with a chuckle, thrusting harder, then slower. "Do you want us to stop?" He felt him bite down on one of my nipples.

I just groaned and gasped. A groan was okay; it could mean anything, whatever the other wanted it to mean. The sounds pleased him, but without the writhing and straining I'd been doing that communicated everything to him, he automatically started thrusting harder to get more reaction out of my limp body. The Drow beneath me followed his lead, humping like a night hound finally being let off his leash.

It was intense, and it was enough...Goddess, it was finally enough!

I stayed as limp as I could until, at last, I drew in breath and cried out as my long-delayed thrills of pleasure racked my body. My fighter was taken off guard and couldn't prevent falling over the edge himself; I could hear him grunt and feel his member throbbing as he spent himself in my bowels.




Sisterhood Ch. 03



The wizard cursed, feeling my vaginal spasms as I climaxed. He pulled out and slapped my hypersensitive mound with what had to be the flat of his hand. It was a shock, definitely, and my whole body flinched as I blurted another short scream.

"Let go of her, grunt, now!" the magic user snapped angrily, and his partner obeyed immediately. "I'll make her regret this, I'll tear her in half!"

I almost panicked, the afterglow souring immediately, and made ready to resist with everything I had as the soldier withdrew out of my ass, pushed me off him and gripped my arms hard to prevent me from scrambling away. The army grunt had gotten his, now he was at the wizard's beck and call, as long as it was fun helping in what they did to me.

I imagined the wizard lifting up a sacrificial blade from his discarded robes, preparing to cut me, or stab me...

*No!*

I looked fearfully over my shoulder but paused then, and ultimately I didn't panic. I realized that I could actually see the lean outline of my Drow wizard....

His spell was starting to wear off! Chances were good that their time with me was almost done. I could finally see hints of his expression, like smoke wisps rising off a snuffed candle. It was what I needed to know for certain, and right then: he had lost the Game, he knew it and he was frustrated...but he was not murderous.

He wasn't going to kill me, and more, he didn't feel any victory. He just wanted satisfaction of some kind. I couldn't really blame him; I would want that, too.

While anything done in the goal of winning the challenge was, in theory, forgivable (especially if the male had been directed by a Red Sister to do his deeds, as these two most likely were), whatever was done *after* the Game was over and won would never be forgotten.

It was how we were.

I did not fight but instead allowed the fighter to roughly set me on my hands and knees. He pushed my shoulders down until my arms collapsed and he held my head down on the floor with the weight of his body, fisting my hair again. When the wizard knelt behind me and gripped my haunches, between the two of them I really couldn't move. I felt my muscles flex protectively as I waited for further violation.

I knew a few inflexible acquaintances at Court—ones who likely wouldn't live much longer— that would have never allowed this position; they found it so demeaning, their exposure so low and helpless, that they say they "would rather die" than be mated this way by a male Drow.

Fortunately this wasn't the case for me; I'd learned that no amount of humiliation was worth dying or breaking. I could survive any position and always get revenge later.

Just ask Juarinia.

Of course...that would be one advantage the wizard had over the soldier in my revenge; I only knew his voice, I didn't know his face.

I winced as the wizard forced his sustained erection into my nether-hole, not giving up the Game without at least following where the warrior had gone. He pumped methodically, hard and seemingly without much pleasure. He made sure it hurt me, though I bit my cheek and refused to make a sound for him.

I knew he was trying to take care of his physical need but he'd already lost his power high; this was just for spite. I was sore but still elastic from the prolonged sodomy and slick from ejaculate the soldier had given me, not to mention relaxed from the crashing orgasm I'd had....

I could endure this, even if I could open my eyes look at myself in the polished floor with a wispy, semi-invisible form leaning over my haunches, the imprints from his gripping fingers deep in my flesh.

Finally the wizard grunted, pressing hard to me and adding his own seed to the mix in my bowels. He did not linger before withdrawing quickly and standing up. The fighter let go of me and I immediately scrambled to my feet and whirled around to scowl at them, feeling my asshole burning as much as my cheeks were.

I stared hard, memorizing the soldier's face and studying the outline of the slowly clarifying wizard. The magic user took an involuntary step back, realizing then that I could look right at him. I grinned maniacally seeing it. He was the smart one; he started moving for the shadows almost instantly, followed by the fighter a few heartbeats later.

The fighter was dead for sure. And I'd damned well look for the other.

This time I didn't hear the three Red Sisters approaching, but I expected them so it wasn't unnerving to turn around and find them there. Unlike last time, my collector was smiling smugly, looking very satisfied, though the face of the youngest was carefully neutral.

I looked at the eldest, trying to read my fate in her eyes. Like with Kerse, I'd played this Game my way, but I still didn't really know what this eldest was looking for when she studied me.

"Stand in the diamond one last time, Sirana," the eldest said quietly but firmly. "Take hold of your ankles again."

I sighed to myself and obeyed. That sounded like a death sentence to me. I had no idea what I'd failed at, or maybe there never had been a way not to fail.

But at least I had had a few good, last climaxes...

(to be concluded)



Sisterhood 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 2011

This story is continued. 

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

I moved back to the diamond and bent over again, spreading my legs a bit and holding my ankles in my hands. My twice-fucked orifices were tender and oozing semen, my sex still engorged and sensitive, and that was what the eldest studied with gentle, tactile exploration as she stood behind me.

She glided her fingers across my sex, now plenty wet unlike before, swirling them slowly around the ring of muscle at my backside. I sighed and relaxed; honestly if she chose to penetrate me now, it would hurt, but I wasn't about to refuse the eldest Red Sister in the chamber anything. Her status was all it took.

I had a good understanding of power games, despite my youth, and I knew where I stood: exactly as I was, bent over and gripping my ankles in a secret chamber within the palace, surrounded by assassins in the dark. I realized if she whipped my buttocks and ordered me to do so, I'd say without hesitation, "Yes, Mistress, may I please have another?"

Pride is real enough for any Drow, but it will only take you so far before it gets you killed.

"How do you feel about your visitors, Sirana?" she asked, still playing idly between my legs. She had yet to penetrate me.

I decided to be honest. "It was fun. None of the three gave up the Game easily. The two Drow were poor losers, though."

The eldest chuckled. "You figured out pretty quickly they wouldn't do anything permanent to you. Did that spoil the intensity for you?"

"Not at all, Red Sister. I thank you for the gifts."

I think she nodded, standing behind me as she was, but regardless, she paused before speaking again. "So you've proven you can and will couple with a Draegloth. And you even figured out how to control him to an extent. Did it disgust you?"

"No, Red Sister. I shall remember the coupling fondly."

She grunted softly. "You can also turn a male dominant situation to your advantage, even if temporarily." Then she laughed, and I was surprised to discover that I liked the musical sound. "If they had been allowed to kill you, I believe the wizard probably would have strangled you himself!"

A smile definitely twitched at the corners of my mouth. "With all due respect, Red Sister, he would've had to prevent my hands from reaching him first."

Her voice took on a softer, more probing quality. "Yet they both forced you to take their seed...here." She finally pressed that teasing finger into my sore and throbbing orifice and I winced. "You could submit to their acts and still call it 'fun'?"

I swallowed as I felt a tremor; I wanted to tighten up. I took a breath and responded forthrightly. "The warrior had a simple understanding of the challenge and no understanding of my signals. I could tell him whatever I wanted, and he had no idea what to do except hump away like a mutt at my whim. It even felt good later on because that's what I wanted. Yes, it was unplanned, but that didn't mean it couldn't be made fun."

"Indeed." She removed her finger and I tried not to sigh audibly. "What about the wizard's manipulation of you? What of his final penetration? I know he was deliberately causing you pain. You were completely silent."

I gave that some thought. At first, I'd been about to say that he gave me the perfect justification to kill him later. But I knew a wizard took a long time to develop to any power; they were expensive investments. While a competent general in the army might still bring down a dominant female's wrath and she could kill him at her whim...a wizard's execution was not taken quite as lightly. I would never be allowed to just go kill him later, like I could the soldier—about whom no one would question my right.

I realized after a moment that I knew why I had allowed the magician to have his revenge on me for taking the control from him twice in one encounter.

"I knew he couldn't kill me, Red Sister, and if he had simply backed off after losing the Game, it would have ended with him nurturing the grudge against me. I let him indulge in his instant gratification, because now he will fear me coming after him someday, make him paranoid, perhaps. It will make the finding of a faceless wizard easier.

"I know I cannot kill him, either, Red Sister. That is the Valsharess's word whether a wizard lives or dies. But I will find him and return the favor. We can continue the Game beyond today...on my terms." I grinned broadly at the floor. "That will be fun."

The eldest Sister listened without interrupting then let the silence stretch a bit, having taken her hand away and circling around me until she stood in front. I could see her fine, black leather boots that wouldn't make a sound unless she willed it, her black leather leggings and the tip of her sword sheath. I could not see, however, the blood red sash I knew to be at her waist.

Finally she spoke, but not to me. "Qivni. Clean her."

My collector gasped softly and balked, sounding shocked and a little disbelieving. "Elder D'Shea?"

"I said clean her. She is coming with us."

Qivni stiffly walked over to where I still held my position and kneeled behind me. I felt a very soft tongue start lapping hesitantly at the folds of my sex and I truly felt bewildered as to my reaction.

Strictly as a sensation, it was soothing and pleasurable after the rough sex. My emotions, on the other hand...I was struggling to keep images of my blood sisters, Juarinia and Kaltra of House Thalluen, out of my head lest I scream from pure hatred.

The invisible marks were still there.

Elder D'Shea must have sensed the slight change in my posture. "Qivni, stop. Gaelan, take her place."

My collector stood up very quickly and gratefully left her post at my backside, and the youngest glided forward and knelt down. The youngest, Gaelan, started tenderly licking my anus, collecting the oozing semen onto her tongue and swallowing it. She also hummed as if in pleasure, though I wasn't sure because memories of my eldest sister still crowded my thoughts. I wanted to spin around and push her away from me, jump on her and start striking her with my closed fist over and over again. I stiffened and trembled instead; I wasn't ready to die for attacking a Red Sister....

"Sirana." It was Elder D'Shea; she sounded like she had just discovered a soft spot in an otherwise firm fruit. "Tell me who you are thinking of right now."

I hesitated.

"Now!"

"My eldest sister, Juarinia," I said through clenched teeth.

Gaelan was still licking and sucking between my legs. The slurping sounds were definitely distracting and my internal armor that I hadn't realized I'd built so painstakingly was crumbling fast.

"Indeed. Why?"

It was the enormity of the question that made me hesitate this time. How to even explain it? I risked a glance upward, realized how my head was pounding from the blood pooling, and looked back down. "Because I hate her."

"She's dead, is she not?"

I nodded, scowling.

"Well. Perhaps her body is. Your hatred gives her life to you, though, it is very clear to me. What did she do to you to earn that degree of immortality?"

"What didn't she do?" I responded then both gasped and flinched when Gaelan stiffened her tongue and pushed it into my nether hole, licking me on the inside, too. Oh Lolth, it felt good and yet I....I....wanted to—

No!

I attempted to get my stream of thought back; Elder D'Shea acted like we were sitting down in a parlor talking over taze, I had to follow suit. "She wanted to be a Priestess. She was practicing since before I was born."

"Interesting. Let me guess, you became her altar?"

"As soon as I was more grown and placed under her care, yes. Kaltra was already broken by then and played her assistant."

"And your Matron did not stop it?"

I swallowed. "Juarinia was never caught and I couldn't speak of it. She gave me some kind of magical draft, a compulsion against accusing her."

"Which apparently has expired upon her death, as you are speaking of it now." Elder D'Shea approached me again; I couldn't see her eyes, only her boots again. "Where did she get her inspiration?"

"The public sacrifices. Younger Priestesses she befriended or slept with to pump them for details. Any book she could find."

"Did anything unusual occur during any of her 'rituals'?"

I shook my head, felt Gaelan close her lips over my pleasure nub and gently start sucking and flicking her tongue. The unexpected spasm of pleasure that resulted wasn't entirely unlike from the wizard's technique. "Ah...! Um...not that I-I noticed, Red Sister."

Elder D'Shea stopped talking all together; she simply watched me and watched Gaelon working me. Qivni stood somewhat behind her, the stance of her legs seeming antsy to me. As the chamber grew quiet except for the sounds of the youngest Red Sister eating me, I found myself drawn inside my head, alone with my resurfacing memories of Juarinia. 

I'd been penetrated with an object the first time without being able to defend myself; I didn't understand what she was trying to do. I'd bled, and my sister nearly panicked, afraid of being found out by the Matron. I'd healed though, and I'd swallowed that draft.

She taught me to pleasure her with my mouth and tongue, convinced that her climax was her strongest energy flow; all the rituals had to end with it unless I could escape. When she brought in Kaltra, I could never get away. As the altar, I was always naked. And then Juarinia had the new idea that if the Priestess and the Altar peaked at the same time, the power released would be incredible. It took a long time and many tries before that happened, with Kaltra's head between my legs and Juarinia squatting over me. The details of the 'rituals' always varied, became more or less harsh or trying, depending entirely on her mood and her 'inspiration,' but the ending was always the same.

And nothing ever happened. No attention from Lolth whatsoever. My sister was such a foolish wannabe who could never be sated.

Gaelan hummed against my sex again and I groaned at the vibrations. I had taken so many male lovers since, but never a female one that anyone knew of, certainly not at Court. It was considered unusual. At the same time, my skill and boundless experimentation with the males was well known. For me, the images of the new experiences helped push out the memories of the old ones.

"Is Gaelan doing a good job, Sirana?" the elder Red Sister asked.

I nodded, quivering a little. It was a slow rise because I was fighting it and I didn't think I could—or wanted to— ever climax from a female tongue again. But I wasn't lying to Elder D'Shea, either; Gaelan's lavishing attention on my sex was causing my heart to pound harder, causing my breath to shake. 

As D'Shea gave me another moment to ponder, I finally heard that underlying thread of steel that had been in her tone. I realized the question had also been a warning: refusing to climax under such good and generous care as I was receiving after being forcefully sodomized would be an insult to Gaelan...which was an insult to the Red Sisters. I needed to let go; that's what was expected.

It was really quite simple now. Orgasm, or die.

Regardless of my distaste for the memories of my sisters.

Curse it.

I started swiveling my hips a little, helping Gaelan find the right spots and pressure points. I allowed myself to moan more, encouraging her and focusing on the softness of her lips and tongue on my sore and well-used flesh, on the intense sensations as she closed her mouth over my nub to gently suck me again. The pressure in my head was building as I stood bending over, and something like a coiled spring was forming in my lower abdomen. At last.

"Harder," I gasped. "Please press harder...."

Gaelan flattened her tongue on my most sensitive point and pressed as hard as she could, moving it just a little bit back and forth. I cried in relief as the spring uncoiled inside me and my body flushed with heat and pleasure. My vision seemed blurred with red for a moment and my head suddenly hurt quite a lot. My knees buckled and I fell forward, landing on all fours though still within the diamond. Gaelan followed me down and quickly thrust two fingers inside my sex, causing me to shriek as an aftershock swept through me. I felt my pelvic muscles clutch eagerly at her fingers before riding the wave down, barely braced on my forearms.

After the rush had subsided, I stayed where I was, gasping, as Gaelan got up and moved around in front of me. She kneeled and took my chin to raise my head, leaning down and letting her lips hover just above mine. I could smell my own scent, see my own lubricant glistening around her mouth. I didn't hesitate; I kissed her, tasted myself, licked around her mouth to clean her as she'd cleaned me. A slight smile touched Gaelan's young face as she stood up and joined Qivni a few paces away.

Elder D'Shea made a sound of satisfaction. "Stand up, Sirana, and come with us. You've shown promise on these trials. Now we'll see if your demons can be exorcised. Red Sisters have no demons except each other."

The words of her last sentence echoed over and over in my head as we walked toward the candles. I finally understood what I was doing here. They were considering me for acceptance into the Valsharess's elite guard. The skilled assassins, the best anyone knew of and that everyone feared, the ones I'd heard about since I started weapons training. The Red Sisters!

Oh, Lolth... I was thrilled, oh Goddess, the power I could attain was more than I could ever hope for being a mere third daughter of my House! I was elated! ...but then quickly sobered.

I'd never heard even one rumor that a Red Sister's initiation started with mating a Draegloth, or that Drow males were turned loose to rape and dominate her as they liked. Not one word.

That really only meant one thing: the ones that failed the trials never lived to tell about them.

It was all or nothing, then. To live, I had to become a Red Sister, and to become a Red Sister, Juarinia and Kaltra had no room in my head anymore. Red Sisters have no demons except each other.

Elder D'Shea walked up to the same section of candles where Kerse had flung his glanced; she stood before them for a few seconds, then drew in one breath and blew out at least thirty-five of them. Smoke and soot rose in dancing twists and curls, and slowly my eyes were able to make out the additional room beyond them.

I could see no less than thirty figures, all female, all wearing the same assassin's uniform. The ages ranged the entire gamut of able-bodied Drow and all of them wore a different expression; of stone, of eagerness, of deceit, of hatred, envy, jeer, distain, calculation, and contempt. I found the absolute oldest one, easily older than D'Shea by a few centuries, and studied her lined and wrinkled expression. She merely looked contemplative.

"This is your offering, then, Varessa?" the eldest asked Sister D'Shea. "If she survives, she will be your new apprentice?"

My apparent benefactress looked at me, a smile touching her lips. "She bends, Red Sister Prime, she doesn't break. She will prove it."

The Red Sister Prime nodded. "We will need an altar," she murmured, turning around and the other Red Sisters parted to let her through as she headed for the granite door that finally made itself seen.

Fear touched me for the first time; real fear. I was still naked, sweaty, disheveled, and sore. I'd seen sacrifices placed on the altar in exactly that state, and my sister had forced me to experience it over and over again.

I didn't want to do this, I simply didn't want to and for an instant the animal, mindless terror almost overrode my better judgment. I started to balk, to pull against my sponsor when she took my arm.

"No demons but us, Sirana," Varessa D'Shea hissed into my ear. "You will live or die by that truth, so accept it now. Or is my confidence in you misplaced?"

I started walking, being guided by the Sister Prime and D'Shea and followed by every one of the Red Sisters present—Qivni and Gaelan directly behind me— through the granite door and along clear, private passageways. They were intermittently lit with elegant candles so our vision didn't revert to true dark vision but gave me no indication where we were in the palace, if we were even still within the palace. 

We passed many doors on either side though no one seemed to come or go out of them. After perhaps ten minutes, the Red Sister Prime seemed to choose a door at random and waved her hand. It opened, and she entered. We all followed her.

My vision remained in the color spectrum thanks to smokeless torches that lined the walls, though such colors as there were in this new chamber were somber at best. A high ceiling proved to be black, as black as the walls and the rougher textured stone beneath my bare feet. No polished, reflective surface on this floor. 

There were nine grey steps leading up to a platform with a backdrop of Lolth's Crest in colors of deep purple, red, white, and black. On the platform there was a marbled white-and-blue stone pedestal only large enough for one body to lie on it. Well, not a pedestal, if I was honest with myself. I knew it was an altar, one that has been used for real by Lolth's Maidens of the Web. The top of it was still stained with dark blood that could not be easily scrubbed out by the slaves.

I forced one foot in front of the other as we walked across the basin floor to the steps and there we stopped. By some invisible signal, four Red Sisters unknown to me stepped out from the crowd and the rest moved off to kneel on the floor in a circular web design on the floor facing the altar. They had all taken on the same expression: reverence, as they looked up at Lolth's Crest. 

Varessa D'Shea, Qivni, and Gaelan kneeled at the front edge of the web, closest to the altar. I thought I saw her eyes flicker and small nod from D'Shea, though she didn't make direct eye contact with me. Meanwhile, the four Red Sisters surrounding me all started removing their weapons, effects, armor, and clothing until they were as starkly naked as I was, setting their uniforms neatly off to the side.

The Red Sister Prime stood nearby, watching everything; I wanted to quail under her gaze but dared not show more weakness than I already had.

All or nothing. I would become a Red Sister, or I would die in this chamber.

We waited. I wasn't sure for what until I heard the whisper of a hem trailing along the ground somewhere near the altar.

From out behind Lolth's backdrop came a Priestess, but not the wannabe that Juarinia had been. This one wore her deep violet robes that lovingly held to her curves, her black spider headpiece framing her beautiful face and holding her long, flowing hair back from her eyes. A ceremonial dagger in its sheath rested at one hip, a black leather pouch at the other. She was adorned with silver jewelry; delicate webbing covered the backs of her hands and shining rings encircled her elegant fingers. A necklace of Lolth's spider nestled between her breasts and multiple studs and glittering dangles pierced her pointed ears.

This Drow held herself with more grace and confidence than any Priestess I'd ever seen at the more common public sacrifices, and it was her presence to draw every eye in the room that I finally recognized: she was the Guide present at the one Priestess initiation of which I'd been a part.

A new Priestess had to complete her own ritual, but there was always a Guide of considerable power present in case the new one's control of the demon she summoned faltered and he became a dire threat. The Guide had been the only one not participating in the orgy. What was her name...? I didn't know it, but I knew her title, which was almost as good.




Sisterhood Ch. 04



"Lelinahdara," I whispered, and the four naked Red Sisters all looked at me. She was proclaimed the Kiss of House Leluin; the most favored, though not the eldest, simply by merit. For being as powerful a Priestess as she was.

The Red Sister Prime snapped her fingers and they started moving up the steps. I was not guided; I was expected to accompany them under my own volition. As if I dared refuse.

I climbed the nine steps with them and paused, unsure whether to go ahead and lift myself onto the altar or not. 

Unsure? I couldn't afford any uncertainty right now. I moved forward toward the stone marbled table at a speed that made me appear unafraid but also allowed me to catch any disapproval from the Priestess if I was doing something wrong.

She held up her hand and I stopped instantly and with a touch of relief.

Lelinahdara approached me instead and was looking into my eyes. Her mouth curved slightly and her voice practically embodied the reverence on the faces of the watchers: rich and seductive, a speaker's voice. "Your eyes are blue. It always denotes an unusual Drow."

Her eyes were a green brighter than emerald; even more unusual but I made no reply on that.

"What is your name and title, daughter of Lolth?"

"Sirana Thalluensareci," I answered.

The Priestess nodded and stepped away from me. She reached into her pouch and sprinkled a light dusting of something atop the blood-stained altar; she'd begun chanting in a tremulous alto as she stepped around to face the congregation of Red Sisters.

She nodded again to the four Drow standing on the platform with us, and they immediately came forward to seize me; one grabbed each limb and lifted me up as roughly as if I was resisting them. I emitted a cursed shriek and felt my body being drawn out, my arms and legs held taunt as they raised me up and set my bare, scratched back on the cold, stained marble.

They didn't let go but held me helpless, spread-eagled as the Priestess came into my view again. Lelinahdara stood beside me and placed her hand on my abdomen. Her flesh was warm and dry; I could tell mine was chilled and sticky. Her hand glided up to rest above my pounding heart. She was still chanting softly and I could feel a tingle coming into me from her hand.

What was she doing? Juarinia had done this but I'd never felt any quiver of energy before. Not like this.

The tingle started to trail up from my chest, through my lungs and neck and into my head. It felt like fingers were cradling my brain inside my skull, probing and squeezing for who knew what. My eyes were tightly shut as my head started to throb against even the meager light of the spare torches on the walls. 

*Interesting,* her voice drifted through me, *your sister must have had a contact inside our temple, who divulged more than she should have about our rituals. Did you ever know who it was?*

I shook my head, my eyes still closed. *No, Priestess.*

*No matter. We'll find her if she still lives. Right now, I want to know your most feared ritual that she did to you. Show me.*

My body struggled haard as she searched around inside me, though the Red Sisters still held it firm. *Stop! No—!*

*I know she couldn't get away with the real sacrifices without your Matron finding out,* the Priestess coaxed. *It can't be that bad, Sirana, you still have all your limbs and digits, you still have your eyes and all your organs. I know this, I've just healed the damage you took from your trials. I know your body now. I'll perform the ritual for you and you'll see what real power is. Juarinia was nothing to fear.*

*But she was someone to see die,* I seethed.

*I'm not arguing that. If you hadn't done it, we would have when she applied yet again for our training. We were about to accept her before she died. I see now she would have given herself and her companion away eventually. She's dead now, however, and you'll now be the center vessel for a true ritual for the glory of Lolth. Survive it with your mind intact, and the Red Sisters will be your new family. But you have to give me what I want first.*

All or nothing. Keep resisting and they'd just plunge a dagger into my chest here and now, and forget me with barely a muttered, "Pity."

I drew a deep, shaking breath, relaxed and stopped fighting her. Lelinahdara found the memory in an instant.

*Vicious. The infertility affliction. She left you unable to bear children, Sirana.*

*You think I don't know that, Priestess?*

*How could you ever be Matron of House Thalluen then?*

*Because Juarinia simply would not be, by my will.*

*You've crippled your House. Kaltra is infirm. You are barren.*

I knew my body was struggling again, trembling with rage and fear, though I felt oddly separated from it as the Lelinahdara's voice filled me. Someone's mouth and tongue played at the junction of my thighs, teasing and soothing, yet someone else was biting my nipples, causing sharp pain.

*She couldn't get away with it...she just couldn't! I would find a way to get an heir once I was Matron.*

*And you could be so sure...*

I flinched as I felt something hot drip onto my thighs, my belly, my chest, scalding my skin. I knew what it was without opening my eyes; candle wax. The drips came too frequently and quickly became too much; I screamed at the next set of successive, stinging burns. The loud wail seemed to be what they wanted for now for no more wax fell.

Mouths were sucking on my toes, my fingers, and what had to be a thick candle was pushed between my legs, spreading me open and filling my birth canal.

A fist gripped my hair and pulled so that I had to squirm and shift my body up further upon the altar so that my head was no longer supported by the granite but leaned back, my draping hair almost touching the floor. I could smell aroused female petals right in front of me and the Red Sister still gripping my hair forced my mouth on her, demanding I service her with nary a word.

I hadn't done this since Juarinia died, yet it would seem one never forgets. My tongue flicked out and up and I started sucking on her, eating her almost automatically.

I felt someone withdraw the fat candle from me, and the Priestess was chanting again. I immediately remembered this part and writhed desperately, my cry of fear muffled between silken thighs. The Sister pressed me to her so hard as to almost suffocate me. Two others still held my ankles and my legs apart, and the fourth draped her weight across my chest to hold me down.

*NO! No, no, no, no...please no!*

Though I couldn't see her, I knew the Priestess would be standing between my legs with her ceremonial dagger unsheathed, the naked blade shining. I was to take that dagger as I would a phallus, feel it thrust up inside me.

Juarinia had almost killed me with this ritual, and for hours I suffered, bled, until she—out of sheer fright at being found out when the Matron came back—had brought me a healing potion from somewhere. I took a chance and drank it, and the flesh had finally healed on the outside. Inside, I knew there was scarring not completely repaired. And I could still say nothing to Mother about it...

The cold metal touched my thighs, its point scraped upward, drawing small pinpoints of blood, I was sure. The tip was nestled between my lips and paused there.

*Sirana? Did you ever know what this ritual was for?*

I was almost mindless in my fear. I couldn't answer, even with a thought.

*Sirana! Answer me!*

Every breath I heaved was steamy, fragrant, a Drow's intimate scent filling my head and her heat warming my face. Yet I was so cold. Damn sisters. Lolth curse all sisters...!

*Are you ready to break, then?* the Priestess taunted me. *I'll shove this blade inside you and you'll bleed out on the altar. What a pathetic end, exactly as Juarinia planned for you.*

I screamed in rage, thrashing as I could, unable to break the Red Sisters' hold. *F-fuck you, Priestess! Fuck you all!!*

She chuckled inside my head. *You shall, Sirana.*

She began pushing the dagger in and I expected fully to feel the edge slicing me open again. Instead, I felt the hard, thin shape of the naked blade but not the razor sharpness, as if it was somehow covered in a protective sheath.

I also felt a tingle, then a rush of energy that flooded into my guts and caused me to gasp with the keenest points of pleasure and pain I'd ever felt. I was still taut as a bowstring and still made wild sounds between another Drow's thighs, but now I could barely comprehend what I was even trying to say.

More?...Don't stop...?

She kept about half its length moving in and out, and instead of the ripping and shredding I remembered, it was electric and mind-wracking, like being squeezed in the grip of an endless orgasm.

*This is Lolth's Threshold, young one. This was the ritual she was trying to mimic. The longer I concentrate on your sensation, the greater the reward. Lucky for you, I am one of the best. If my relic touches the entrance to your womb, Sirana, it heals what was destroyed. It makes you fertile again. But I haven't reached your core yet. Can you take more of me without going mad?*

I writhed, I could barely think. I don't even know if I was breathing. I was hardly aware that I was anymore. *I...I...oh!....oh, Lolth!*

The Priestess's voice crooned to me. *Yes, Sirana, isn't she just? Go ahead and feel it. Do you want to become whole again? Do you want Sisters again? All or nothing, Sirana, just as you've always taken your existence, every goal you've ever had.*

I shuddered, straining against the exhalted flood of sensation, but I did understand what the Priestess was saying, even through my ecstasy and my agony. I twisted my head violently to the side and somehow released myself from the grip of thighs. My body undulated and I scooted down the altar, thrusting myself fully onto the ceremonial dagger, feeling the magic-charged point press into the entrance to my womb. I screamed.

I'd done it; I'd taken the entire length of the dagger willingly. My eldest sister had asked the same thing of me; it was a requirement, she said. I would have rather died. I almost did when she lost her patience. 

This energy, though, centered in my core was intense, hot, and divine. I squirted when I peaked for the last time, spraying clear fluid over the dagger's handle and the Priestess's hand. Then I collapsed and fell into a paralyzing afterglow, my legs dangling off the altar. I couldn't move, couldn't open my eyes, but I could still hear. Barely. I believed even the Priestess thought me unconscious.

"Well, Priestess?" It was the Red Sister Prime. "Will she come out of this with a useful mind?"

"Absolutely," Lelinahdara replied with confidence. "I could sense her to the very end; she was as lucid as any in the past who've survived this ritual."

A wet, sticky hand adorned with metal lay itself over my abdomen and the Priestess continued.

"She's also not barren anymore. She will be highly fertile for the next few days. Unless you wish her to catch a child, keep males out of her reach. She will be craving them."

"She won't be seeing any males where she's going, Lelinahdara, not for weeks."

"Sirana is admitted, then?" The third voice was Varessa D'Shea.

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

One corner of my mouth twitched. It was just as they said.

No demons left but them.