"Most of the trappings of love in drow society are better defined as either lust or politics. Drow seek to sate their physical desires with whatever partners arouse their attentions; the culture does not, in any real way, associate sex or reproduction with love, or even necessarily with marriage. Drow seek to slake their lust with lovers of lower status - so as not to imply that they have given in to a drow of higher station - and rarely with members of an enemy house or family, for fear of compromising their position. Beyond that, anything goes." - Drow of the Underdark "Will that be all, mistress?" the servant girl said, bowing deep. "Yes. You may return to the barracks," the chef said absent-mindedly, not turning around. The servant bowed again just to be sure and walked out of the kitchen before the chef could think of some other menial task to do. The servant smiled a thin smile as she walked out of the kitchen and quickly started off towards the barracks. She had only been at House Malande for a few days but her finely honed skills at blending in had already let her adapt to the daily routine and most of the quirks of the household. Naturally her subservience and willingness to please were merely a smokescreen. Barely looking up at the hazy sky over Erelhei-Cinlu, she slipped into the servant's barrack and walked calmly to her small, miserable room. Judging by the odd ambient lighting and the lights in the city, rest-time was rapidly approaching. The House was slowly shutting down the daily activities as nobles and servants alike went to their quarters to recuperate or indulge in whatever decadent pleasures they desired. In other words, time to work. The servant peered out through the small circular window (actually little more than a hole in the wall) towards the main building with its tall, menacing towers. She would have to work quickly. Opening the battered chest set against the dull grey wall she pulled out a smooth spidersilk bag held together by a knot. The drow spoke a simple word and the bag untied itself, and she quickly reached in to pull out the contents. She ran a hand through her stringy white hair and grinned. With practiced ease she slipped out of her servant's tunic and the coarse, itchy underwear she wore underneath. She kicked the simple sandals off her feet and began donning the outfit from the bag. When she left the barracks again, cloaked in the shadows of the wall, she was dressed in a two-piece outfit made from midnight black fabric, complete with a facemask covering the lower half of her face. On a pair of sheaths strapped to her thighs she had two daggers and she had quickly applied a thick black paste to her white hair, slicking it back. She paced herself before aiming at a spot in wall of the main keep that she had previously scouted out. After a running start she jumped silently onto the wall, and was soon scaling it like a giant black spider. For the moment the servant was gone. Now there was only Faeridra, the rogue. A less skilled climber would have found the black wall of the Malande keep an insurmountable obstacle, but to Faeridra the surface was like a roadmap of handholds leading towards her goal. Ignoring the sprawling drow city behind her she quickly reached her target window and hefted herself up and over the sill. Landing silent as a cat on her bare feet she snuck through the darkened room into the corridor beyond, carefully keep an eye out for guards or servants passing through. As a drow, she did not need a lamp or torch to make her way around the darkened compound, but then neither did anyone else. She dashed up to the large double doors leading into the matron's audience chamber and opened them quietly. Inside the huge room was empty and dark, devoid of anything of interest to the infiltrator. Anything except the door on the far end, of course. Faeridra darted between the large pillars holding the fresco-decorated roof up towards her goal. She passed the small dais containing Soresha's throne and headed straight for the unassuming door set straight behind the back of the matron's seat. It was small and made from blackened wood (in itself a rarity) and heavily bound with thick bands of metal. There was no handle on this side of it, merely a very small keyhole situated next to the doorframe. Faeridra knelt down and examined it, pulling a set of lock picks from a small leather sheath on her belt. Examining the hole the drow quickly determined that there was an elegantly crafted trap guarding the lock. If any attempts to try the wrong combination on the tumblers within the mechanism was made, a trigger was set up to set off the trap, which could be anything from a poison dart to gas to a magical discharge. Faeridra grinned. This was more fun than she had hoped. Disabling the trigger temporarily with a wad of sticky sap from a specific Underdark tree so it could later be reactivated, she began working on the lock. While she knew the odds were high that matron Soresha and her bodyguard Kaull were actually inside the warded-off floor of the building where nobody else was allowed, she believed the odds of getting in and find out any relevant information were still better than to risk skipping her servant duties and break in during peak activity. Her skilled fingers kept turning the lock picks while her honed ears listened for the telltale clicks of a correct combination. There was a rustling sound from the other end of the chamber. Moving as quick as a serpent, Faeridra withdrew the lock picks from the keyhole and backflipped across the floor to land behind one of the pillars. She crouched down there in the deepest shadow she could find, slowly replacing the lock picks in her belt and letting her hands hover across the hilts to her daggers. Her breathing was calm and controlled as she waited, her narrow eyes fixed on the double doors leading back to the corridor. One of the doors slid open, this time creating much more noise than when the rogue had done it. A tall, broad-shouldered figure moved into the chamber, moving as quietly as they could as they walked towards the opposite end. The newcomer probably thought they were being very stealthy but to Faeridra's trained senses he or she made as much noise as a parade of drow soldiers. The figure slipped up to the door where the rogue had been crouching only moments earlier and knelt down next to it. The concealed rogue almost cursed out loud. This fool of an intruder was trying to do the exact same thing as she wanted to, but clumsy and unskilled. If they kept at it they might set off the trap that Faeridra had so carefully disarmed, or make enough noise to rouse the matron or her bodyguards. The lithe female decided that any chance she had at penetrating the secrets of the house were now lost, and after a quick glance she began slipping quietly back towards the door. She must either have made some sound or just been very unlucky, because just as she was making her way past the dais and the throne, the figure crouching at the door turned around and looked straight at her. Faeridra didn't waste any time contemplating the situation. With a series of quick leaps and flips she had covered the distance between the two, drawn her daggers in the process and pushed the other intruder up against the door with a blade against their throat. "Wait! Wait!" a male voice said in a hissing tone, and the figure reached up to pull the hood from his face, revealing a strong jaw and handsome features of a male drow. "Don't!" "Sorry, but you've just ruined my chance to do my job," Faeridra said in a low tone and prepared to slit the man's throat. "Wait! You're here to get into the matron's chambers too? We're on the same side! Don't kill me, I work for Morga too!" the male drow said, sounding almost pleading. The rogue quirked an eyebrow but relaxed her dagger a little. The one in her other hand was still aimed squarely at the male's vital organs should he try anything. "Morga? You work for Morga?" she asked, trying to keep amusement out of her voice. "Yes!" he hissed back. "Of course I do! I'm captain Ildralan of the house guard, surely our mistress told you about me?" "Ah, of course she did, captain. Of course she did. I wasn't informed you were making your own attempt at this, however," the rogue said glibly. "Well, I-" Ildralan said before turning around in horror. Behind them, there were faint but clear sounds coming from behind the locked door, as if from heavy boots walking down a stairwell. Ildralan looked at Faeridra and down at the dagger blade at his throat. She quickly calculated her chances and then lowered her daggers, waving at the double doors. Faeridra cursed mentally as she realized any chances of her getting past the locked door and into the matron's private floor were now well and truly gone. "Go. GO!" she said with a snarl. They rushed through the chamber as quickly as they could, Faeridra with the grace and silence of a hunting displacer beast and Ildralan with the grace of a stampeding rothê. They rushed through the door into the corridor just as the door to the private floor began opening, and Faeridra slid the door shut before making sure that the corridor was still deserted. Ildralan was already rushing for the stairs leading down, trying to make as little sound as possible, but when he noticed the rogue wasn't following him he stopped. "Well? Come on!" he said as loudly as he dared. "I will take a different path," the rogue said bluntly. "We will talk again later." She honestly cared little whether the oafish guard captain was caught or not, but he had provided her with a very valuable tidbit of information and he might be a useful tool later. Ildralan looked at her in confusion as she sidled up close to him. He could feel her breath across his face and smell the tangy scent of her body as she pressed up against him. Grabbing his head firmly she tugged her facemask down a few inches and pulled him into a passionate but quick kiss. Then she turned and vanished through a side door like a shadow, a mischievous grin the last thing he could see before she was gone. He was still gawking after her when the doors to the audience chamber began opening, forcing the guard captain to flee down the stairs as fast as he could. *** "And you didn't catch any glimpse of who it was?" matron mother Soresha asked, tugging on the thin silvery chain in her hand. "No matron. They were out of range before I could get a closer... ehm... look," said Kaull, the tall, stoic master of arms and bodyguard of the matron. "Find out who it was. I want to know which of my daughters has the audacity to send their slaves scurrying like rats to my door," she said in a mild tone. "Of course mistress," Kaull said, bowing. "Are you sure that you will be alright without me?" She gave him a deeply disproving look and to the surprise of the other drow guards standing near the matron in the courtyard, the bodyguard actually winced a little, as if he'd been struck. "Of course I will be alright, Kaull. Do not question me," Soresha said with a faint edge to her voice. The master of arms nodded and bowed deeply before turning and walking back to the keep. Soresha grinned as she tugged the silver chain a little, pulling Sirina closer to her mistress. The surface woman's golden hair stood out like a beacon among the dark tones and colors of the drow city and her pale skin was so contrasting to Soresha's black one that they resembled opposing chess pieces. Sirina was dressed in a skimpy metal outfit, as usual, with cups covering her ample breasts and a metal bottom reaching between her thick thighs, covering her womanhood. The bottom was locked tight like a chastity belt, and although not the most sturdy construction, it would at least create an obstacle to overcome for anyone wishing to take advantage of the favored slave. Soresha's oldest daughter Lysindra was standing just behind her mother, occasionally throwing Sirina a threatening glance when it looked like the slave might twitch or let her posture slack. "Comfortable?" Soresha asked with a smile as she playfully dangled the chain, which was attached to a metal collar around Sirina's neck. "Y-yes mistress," Sirina said, bowing her head in supplication. "Liar. But at least your training has taught you how to respond, even if you don't believe in it," Soresha said with amusement, and turned. "Let us go." At her command the small group of drow house guards, all proudly bearing the Malande house insignia on their elaborate, ornate armor and shields, turned and formed a loose circle around the matron and her prize. A group of handmaidens and other servants formed a small loose group behind the matron and her guards, prepared to attend their mistress' needs. At Soresha's signal, the large portcullis in the outer wall raised and the massive doors into the compound opened, and then her group out and towards the bridge leading to the city. The small entourage of drow was just small enough to show how little Soresha thought of any attempts on her person, and just large enough to deal with most such attempts. Sirina trailed after the matron like a dog and Lysindra was constantly at her side making sure she did not falter. Sirina had seen little of Erelhei-Cinlu after being dragged through it following her capture and several days of humiliating marching through the Underdark. The city proper was surrounded by a vast black wall that made the one around the Malande compound seem like a set of child's bricks. The city beyond stretched up past the wall in exotic, twisted shapes which were dotted by unnatural lights. Even from a distance trails of singing in elven and odd odors assailed the party from House Malande as they resolutely walked across the Flying Bridge that spanned the large river separating the noble district from the rest of the city. They met almost only other drow while crossing the bridge, other than some wretched-looking slaves following their mistresses or masters. Not many non-drow ever journeyed to the noble's district unless directly summoned, and alien merchants, mercenaries and other visitors had to enter the city from one of the other gates. "Marvelous, isn't it? Like a black pearl," Soresha said in a purring tone. "Isn't it amazing that such a dark gem could prosper here?" "Lolth protects her children," Lysindra said dutifully, narrowing her eyes. "We are the greatest race in all creation. Why would we not build the most glorious city conceivable?" Soresha laughed and tugged on Sirina's chains, pulling her ahead towards the towering Noble Gate in the outer wall of Erelhei-Cinlu. The guards there performed only a perfunctory check on the Malande group, the guards casting dark leering eyes at the half-naked surface slave. The maiden of Pelor shrank under their gaze and walked a little closer to Soresha. In a strange twist of fate, the cruel matron had become the best protection the girl had against being ravaged and discarded by the cruel dark elves. Lysindra caught glimpse of a mezzoloth moving into one of the gatehouses as her group passed through the towering gate. The black carapace of the fiend glistened in the light and its odd stilted way of walking sent a small shiver down the spine of the priestess. Lysindra couldn't help but be reminded of the glabrezu that had occasionally answered her prayer to the demoness Malcanthet, and almost felt a small twinge of sorrow when the mezzoloth slammed the door behind it and vanished. Soresha didn't seem to have even noticed her daughter's interest and was moving her group towards the large square beyond the gate. "Magnificent, isn't it? This is not merely a shopping trip. Our visit here has another purpose, my pet," Soresha said, turning to her slave. "While certainly skilled and zealous, whatever we teach you in our mansion cannot truly make you understand drow life. The simple notions that still run through your cow-like brain are persistent. So you shall have to see for yourself. Drink the black nectar of Erelhei-Cinlu, little one." "I am not a cow," Sirina muttered, but a sharp yank from Soresha almost choked her, and she gasped for breath. "The knowledge that I wish to keep you alive for the sacrifice makes you bold," Soresha said coldly. "I could cut out your tongue, but I want to hear you beg your god for mercy when you go on the altar. So instead, we will teach you." The group turned down one of the large streets radiating from the square like the spokes of a wheel. The city stretched up above them, almost vanishing into the odd haze that permeated the Vault at all times. Everywhere there was raucous, cruel laughter, screams and odd lilting music as they entered the Ghetto of Performers. Drow of all stations milled around them, the ones with higher status always accompanied by slaves or servants. They bought and traded, threatened and flattered and sometimes aggressively kissed. From the windows above came sounds of passion, and sounds of darker origin like bloodcurdling screams. The air was cloyed with musky perfumes mixed with sharp odors and the dark streets teemed with activity. Soresha's bright white dress, as always cut scandalously to show off as much of her body as possible, shone like a bright light among the many commoner drow as the matron marched imperiously through the crowd. Her guards formed a protective bubble around Soresha, Sirina and Lysindra where no city-dweller could intrude, but the servants and attendants trailing after them had no such luck. "Erelhei-Cinlu is a cauldron," Soresha said and her voice carried with odd clarity to both her slave and her daughter. "Merchants, priests, wizards, fiends, they all come here for their own reasons. The nobles who rule exert control over certain areas of the city and derive profits and boons from it. One day very soon House Malande shall count itself as one of those Great Houses and not just a minor entity on the fringe of nobility." "Very soon," Lysindra said. "The Feast of Lolth shall be the eve of our ascendance." Soresha smiled and their party turned down a side street, the matron's high heels clicking on the black flagstones and Sirina's golden ankle rings jingling as she struggled to keep her footing with the chain tugging at her neck. "Drow life is always one of either ascending or descending. You may either be a rising star or a falling comet, though some here would think even mentioning stars is heresy. All these dark elves you see around you, pet, they're all trying to get somewhere in a much more concrete way than your soft kin do. Every deal you see, every dark tryst and every murder in a soiled alleyway is done for the purpose of rising in station or to obtain a favor. That is the way of Lolth. Can you tell me why the Spider Queen has decreed this state of affairs?" "Because she is a cold, loveless goddess who hates and despises her lot in existence and seeks only to further her own power by abusing her chosen people," Sirina said coldly. The handle of Lysindra's whip struck the blonde slave so hard she staggered, but before the enraged senior priestess could land another blow her mother's hand stayed her. Soresha quietly shook her head and Lysindra reluctantly nodded, lowering her hand and stepping back. The guards formed a wider circle around the three as the matron knelt down next to the whimpering slave girl. "Spoken like a true surface-dweller," Soresha said in a hushed tone, stroking her finger across Sirina's cheek. "The drow believe that Lolth is a wronged goddess, that the Seldarine betrayed her and exiled her people when they feared they were becoming too powerful. Do you understand what it is to be fallen from grace, little one? To wake up and know that you are damned, that your children are damned and that you will never escape?" Sirina looked up at the matron wide-eyed, and Lysindra felt herself staring. The matron was speaking in a way that made Lysindra deeply uneasy. While not quite heresy against the official doctrine, Soresha had chosen a way of making her words seem provocative to the other priestess. For an instant Lysindra wondered if her mother was also a heretic against Lolth like herself. She felt a spark of hope that perhaps there could still be an Alliance, that maybe they wanted the same thing. But that hope died almost instantly when Lysindra remembered her pact with Malcanthet, which would involve betraying her mother's trust by defiling the pitiful slave now sulking on the street in front of her. "There's always hope," Sirina said, her voice thick since her lips were swollen after the blow, "you're only truly damned if you believe it yourself." Now it was Soresha's turn to go wide-eyed. At first she was stunned speechless, and then anger flashed on her beautiful face. But just as quickly it was replaced by a pleasant smile. The matron lifted her hand gently to Sirina's face and lifted the human girl's jaw up so the slave was staring straight at her master. The pointy fingernails of the matron pushed into the soft skin on Sirina's throat. Then Soresha leaned in and kissed the slave girl, worming her tongue into her mouth. Sirina gave a muffled gasp and Lysindra wrinkled her nose at the sight. Releasing the slave, the matron mother's hand traveled down Sirina's soft shoulders and came to cup one of her breasts, squeezing it gently so it chafed a little into the metal cup covering it. "You really think there's hope, pet? For you, or for anyone? You think you're anything but a slab of meat to be used as those with power see fit? You were to be a whore of your god, and you speak to me of hope and freedom?" Sirina squirmed under the touch of the priestess, and Soresha responded by pulling the human with her as she stood up, not releasing her grip. The matron let her other hand slip between Sirina's legs, teasingly pushing at the metal bottom covering her virginal slit. "The sacrifice only require you to be pure in the sense that you have not been taken by another," Soresha said purring. "But I believe that you also consider yourself too good for the lusts of the flesh. You think yourself above me, above everyone here, just because of your silly little ideals." Lysindra shifted her weight uneasily. "I will show you. You -will- understand," Soresha said bluntly, and released the slave girl. Sirina stumbled back, panting. The fair skin on her chest and around her groin was rosy from the stimulation and her breathing was heavy, but she apparently thought it wise not to challenge the matron again right then. Soresha smiled at her and looked over to Lysindra. The few drow that had dared to look at the spectacle from windows or balconies quickly dispersed as the Malande group snapped back into order. "Let's take a detour to the Poisoned Veil before we attend our shopping," Soresha said. Lysindra simply nodded, quietly wondering what her mother was planning now. The group began moving again, turning around to return to the main street and following it along for a few more paces before leaving it for a side street once more. Sirina kept attracting attention with her odd position of privilege within the circle of guards, but none were bold enough to approach and question the Malande group about it. Soon they arrived at a large, impressive building which occupied a large portion of the street on one side and was topped off by a huge, low dome. Soresha led her party up the black stone of the stairs to the huge open doors leading into the sprawling structure, and Sirina gasped. The house was a slave market, albeit one that seemed a bit more refined than the filthy corrals in other parts of the city. Everywhere there were slaves chained to posts or posed seductively on stout platforms as prospective buyers haggled over them and studied their physical attributes. The slaves were of many different races ranging from humans to other drow, but they all seemed to be surprisingly well-nourished. As Sirina watched she locked eyes with a human man who was in the process of being showed off by a glib drow merchant. She was extolling his physical prowess, but despite the lack of signs of torture or malnourishment on his body his eyes were desperate and pleading. Lysindra pushed Sirina along and the thin crowd dispersed before the phalanx of Malande guards, letting Soresha walk freely up to the end of the room where a tall, slender drow woman was instructing one of her servants in harsh tones. The woman's body was covered in pale tattoos and her earlobes, nose, lip and navel were pierced and carried glittering jewelry. Her hair was extremely long and held up into a tall ponytail by a series of silver rings, and dangled down almost to her rump. Upon seeing the matron and her party approach, she quickly shooed the servant away and knelt deeply before Soresha. "Matron Malande. You honor my humble establishment with your presence," said the merchant woman. "Greetings to you, Nul'iira. I trust business is doing well?" Soresha said, extending her signet ring towards the kneeling woman. "Indeed it is, lady Malande. Raids have been unusually successful recently and even though I pick only the finest chattel for my training there has been an influx of good merchandise," said Nul'iira, kissing the Malande signet briefly before standing up. The eyes of the slave-mistress darted over to Sirina who was cowering behind the matron's back, sternly watched by Lysindra. "Ah, have you come to make a sale, perhaps? That looks like a very fine specimen, indeed," the merchant said with a wicked grin. "This one is not for sale. But I would like to make a purchase," Soresha replied. "Do you have any promising pleasure slaves in training?" Nul'iira's disappointment over not being allowed to buy Sirina was quickly replaced by newfound enthusiasm. "Oh yes. How many do you desire, matron? I know that house Malande is growing by the day. Your needs must be increasing." "I would buy four of you," answered the matron, smiling. "Healthy and strong ones. And I would rent your performance arena as well. There is a lesson that must be learned." Soresha turned around and gave Sirina a sweet but venomous smile, and the human girl suddenly shivered. Her blue eyes darted to the sides of the hall where barely clad slaves were forced to gyrate before prospective buyers, their bodies on gross display to everyone. "What are you going to do?" Sirina said in a whisper. The matron gave her a wink, and the blonde girl suddenly recoiled. The chain kept her anchored to the drow woman and Lysindra stepped in behind her to prevent her from going too far. In the firm grip of the younger drow she was forced to watch as Soresha bartered with the slave-mistress. It seemed that despite her superior position as matron, Soresha still considered Nul'iira to be of sufficient importance not to be trivialized by offers of coin. Instead different offers and bargains were offered, altered and refused until the two seemed to reach an agreement. "It is an honor to curry your favor, matron," said the merchant, kneeling again before Soresha and kissing her signet. "Do you wish for me to provide guards or servants for your... session?" "It will not be necessary. Just have the slaves brought into the arena and we shall handle the rest." "Very well, lady Malande. By Lolth's will," Nul'iira said, calling for her servants to begin arranging the matron's request. "Indeed," Soresha said, waving her entourage towards the stairs leading to the balcony. *** The performer's arena was situated right under the large dome on top of the slave market. It was not the typical gladiatorial arena covered in coarse sand but more like a theatre stage surrounded by an amphitheatre. There was a fifteen-foot tall drop down to the floor of the 'stage' where a plain wooden floor could be decorated as the performer or slave-mistress saw fit. Heavy gates circled the arena floor where slaves and decorations could be brought in for whatever performance the customers wanted. Right now the only occupants of the amphitheatre were Soresha and her entourage, with the matron mother standing at the foremost row of ornate seats, with Lysindra holding Sirina by the shoulders right behind. The guards had followed them in, but the matron's personal servants had stayed outside to wait for their mistress. Sirina shivered violently and occasionally squirmed in Lysindra's firm grip, causing the drow's nails to bite into her pale flesh. "What are you planning?" she asked, fully forgetting her training. "As I said. A lesson. Your refusal to understand my teachings is getting to be a bother, and I am reconsidering removing your tongue. But a better idea would to teach you through making an example, rather than mere talk and sightseeing." As the group watched four doors at the bottom of the arena slid open, and from each one a slave emerged, prodded by unseen drow handlers. Two of them were human males, both in quite good physical shape. One had a clean-shaven head and a long scar across his chest, while the other had messy brown hair and looked fairly young. The third slave was a hulking male half-orc who stood a full head tall than the other two and the last was a curvy drow female, presumably a criminal or other outcast. The four moved awkwardly into the arena, each of them clad in only a minimal amount of fabric to hide their genitalia. Soresha smiled and clapped her hands. "Ah, wonderful," she said in the common tongue spoken on the surface world. Her voice carried well across the amphitheatre and the slaves all looked up at the imperious drow. "Your owner has done well. Now, we shall have a little game here today." Sirina squirmed in Lysindra's grip, trying to get loose. Her face was paler than normal and she looked like she might faint. "No. Please. Don't make them do this. Please. You said you were saving me for Lolth," she pleaded. "I'm sorry my pet. You brought this on yourself," Soresha said sweetly. "I will make you curse the heavens themselves before I'm done with you." Soresha nodded to her daughter and Lysindra roughly shoved the slave girl forward down the thin aisle between the seats, as the matron stepped up to the edge of the performance floor. "No. No. Don't. Not for my sake, but for them. Please," Sirina repeated. Soresha ignored the slave and turned back to the four down in the arena. "There will be a contest held here this day, and if you play along I will give you your freedom. I am your owner now, my word is law. I cannot guarantee your safety outside the city, but you will have a chance to flee. Or stay, as you wish," she said loudly. The four slaves looked at each other in confusion and disbelief, but their bodies tensed as they seemed to consider each other closer. Sirina almost screamed but Lysindra slapped a hand over her mouth and held the captive priestess of Pelor firmly. Soresha swept over to her and leaned in close, letting the slave smell her musky perfume and feel the soft brush of Soresha's large bosom. "You heard the promise. Now you will watch, and you will learn." Soresha turned and jumped over the low edge into the arena. *** "You incompetent sack of dung!" Morga shouted, landing a firm blow on Ildralan's jaw which sent him reeling. "You utterly useless fool of a male!" "Nobody saw me, mistress!" Ildralan said, raising his arms to shield his face from the assault. "Well, nobody but your agent!" "I DO NOT HAVE ANOTHER AGENT!" Morga screamed and raised her mailed fist again. "Ah, but I do," another female voice said from behind Morga. Mayena Malande, Soresha's youngest daughter, walked casually into Morga's strategy room followed by the wheezing, stooped elder house mage Neorik. Mayena had a sweet smile on her face which contrasted with Morga's fury, and the sheer surprise of her sibling showing up made Morga lower her fist. "Oh. Wonderful," Morga said grumbling. "I take it you're here for the obligatory blackmail then, sister." Mayena sashayed around the edge of Morga's huge map table and with a little twirl sat down on the edge of it, crossing her legs. She smiled at her sister and shook her head. "Oh dearest sister, no. Why would I do that? I would risk implicating myself just as much, wouldn't I?" Morga pulled herself up to her full height and marched over to Mayena, staring into her eyes. Mayena seemed so fragile compared to the muscular, bald martial Malande sister, but the magical might wielded by the youngest daughter was such that Morga knew better than to anger her. Instead she took a step back and cocked her head slightly. "What are you here for then?" she asked. "Oh, it's very simple, isn't it?" Mayena said in an airy, playful voice. "You want to find out who murdered your old lieutenant, Kalesh. We both want to find out what Soresha is concealing on her private floor. We both want to take control of the sacrifice before the Feast of Lolth. We both want to see that bootlick Lysindra put in her place." "Go on," Morga said warily. "Oh sister. I'm proposing an alliance, of course!" *** Soresha landed gracefully on the wooden floor of the performance stage, and quickly knelt down to pull her boots off. The fact she had been able to manage the jump and landing in heels that tall was a feat in itself, but for now they seemed to have served their purpose. The four slaves didn't quite know what to make of the drow matriarch throwing herself down among them, but soon they discovered that the Malande house guards had quietly spread out along the edge of the wall above them, each one holding a nasty-looking crossbow. Soresha approached the four slowly, her hips swaying with each calculated step. "The game is simple. You will pleasure me. All of you. No holding back. Make me cum if you can, but do not dare hold back. If you do, your chance at freedom is forfeit," she said with a sweet smile, running a pointed nail across the chest of the bald human slave. Sirina was still squirming in Lysindra's grip, but the priestess held her firmly. When the slave tried to close her eyes, the drow handler forced them open with the tips of her nails, until Sirina pleaded for her to stop and agreed to watch. Lysindra took no chances and kept the blonde girl in a firm grip, her head aimed at the arena below. Soresha had slunk out of her dress, discarding the garment and the thin strip that covered her slit. Her sensuous black-skinned body drew the eyes of the male slaves and the matron moved with a sinuous grace to give them a full view of her hips, ass and chest. "If you try to harm me beyond the game one of my men will put a crossbow bolt through your skull. Play the game and you're free. Oh, and show my friend up on the bleacher what sex is truly like," Soresha said loudly so that everyone could hear. Sirina's skin was developing a faint blush, just like when Soresha had tormented her earlier. Perhaps the surface girl was so innocent that the mere sight of sexual acts enticed her, Lysindra thought. Below them, Soresha was approaching the younger of the two humans, who had quickly doffed his loincloth to be prepared. The drow matron, having shed every single scrap of jewelry or clothing and with her hair wild and unkempt seemed almost like a prowling predator as she approached and trailed her tongue along the man's cheek. He moved a little bit awkwardly but after a glance at the drow soldiers stationed above he leaned in and kissed Soresha. He seemed to be getting into it more after that because as her roving hands explored his taut body he pushed closer against her, letting his stiffening penis rub against her thighs. The matron waved the other human over and the bald man quickly obeyed, pulling his loincloth down to reveal a large manhood that was already quite stiff. Soresha grinned and grabbed the root of it in a firm grip, twisting firmly but gently and making the man wince. The matron said something Lysindra couldn't hear, and gestured at the other two slaves, then apparently gave the two humans some instructions. Pushing up close to their drow owner, the two males leaned in to kiss her back, chest and shoulders while their hands found her nipples and crotch to playfully tease. Soresha groaned at the stimulation, finding herself sandwiched between their muscular forms. To the side, the half-orc had already laid the drow slave girl out on the floor and was in the process of pushing his large member into her, with the drow displaying clear resentment at being forced to be a non-drow's plaything. Even in slavery a drow kept their pride, Lysindra thought. It was odd that her mother showed no such reluctance and odder still that she seemed so sexually proficient when she was not known to take partners often. The only partner she had had for years now was Kaull, and Lysindra did not know if the taciturn bodyguard even had any sexual urges. Soresha's two playmates had managed to get her nipples stiff and her slit slightly moist by their playful exploration, the brown-haired one behind her also leaning in and nibbling her earlobe a little. Slowly the bald one lifted the drow woman up and then down onto his penis, sliding Soresha down until she was filled. The younger human quickly caught on and slipped his member into the drow's waiting rear, leaving her impaled by them both and stuck between them. The powerful arms of the bald man began bouncing the drow up and down on his cock, and she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep steady. Behind her she was penetrated by the other human, who was quickly getting into it just like his fellow slave. Sirina squirmed in Lysindra's grip and uttered a number of weak pleas, including what the priestess recognized as a prayer. The bald man grunted as he pushed into Soresha further, and he seemed to have relaxed his fears that this might be a trap and simply started to enjoy the sensation of having sex with one of his captors. While the half-orc had flipped his drow partner over to do her from behind, with her uttering screams of passion from encompassing his girth, Soresha was attending to both her lovers. Her skillful lips found those of the bald man and her tongue played with his as she kissed him messily. He was already leaking precum inside her, with a gentle dribble falling onto the wooden floor, and the sensation of the musky perfume of the drow matron seemed to drive him even further. Meanwhile her other partner seemed content to just lean over the matron's shoulder and lick the sweat from her slick dark skin as he pushed into her depths with increasingly strained grunts. While Soresha's eyes were closed and she seemed to be panting, she suddenly threw Sirina and her daughter an almost mischievous look before plunging her body down onto the two stiff shafts. The men were already straining to keep up, but this was too much. At first the movements of the brown-haired human had been stiff and awkward, but it was clear now that he was getting into the act. The bald man grunted and came first, clinging onto Soresha's body. It took a few breaths for the younger male to join his partner in pumping hot, steaming seed deep into the drow matron, their three bodies locked together in passion. The fears and doubts of both humans had fled and for now they just relished in pumping into the drow woman, experiencing the touch of a more beautiful woman than either of them had ever seen before, much less dreamed to touch. The cum of both men, mixed with some of Soresha's nectar, poured down onto the floor making it slick and down the legs of both men as they pumped for all they were worth. However one quick look from Lysindra ensured her that her mother had not orgasmed. She looked aroused, of course, but much too calm. The two men quickly spent themselves, both grunting like oxen before slowly releasing Soresha and lowering her onto the floor. Before their members had even gone flaccid, the drow matron pointed at the other couple, who were still only in the opening stages of the copulation. "You!" she shouted sharply. "Stop that, it's your turn now!" Sirina whimpered in Lysindra's grip, and the priestess was amused to find the human girl reaching for her plump breast and squeezing it a bit as she was forced to watch the intercourse. As Soresha walked over to the other two slaves, trailing frothy cum down her legs as she walked, Sirina's hand slipped between her legs. Lysindra quickly grabbed the slave's wrist and pulled her hand away. "No. You will watch and learn, nothing more," she whispered in Sirina's ear and was rewarded by the half-naked human girl sobbing. While her two former partners were sitting down and catching their breath, Soresha walked over to the half-orc and drow girl. The man had very reluctantly pulled out of the elf female, but his member was still fully erect, only leaking a little at the top. The drow slave was on the ground, panting, and stared up at Soresha with a quizzical expression as if not knowing what to expect. "Your turn," Soresha said loudly. She slipped down on all fours on the unyielding wood of the arena floor, spreading her legs wide to show her dripping sex and ass. With a twitch of her head she motioned for the drow slave, who slid in under Soresha and flipped around to lie on her back with her face right underneath the matron's wet slit. The half-orc did not need much direction, walking up and only seeming a little bit perplexed by the matron's calm, amused expression. He went down on his knees and lifted her slender jaw up with one large hand, stroking it a little. Soresha gave him an encouraging nod and he teased the edge of her supple lips with his member, trailing clear cum across her face. Soresha lowered her rear to accommodate, and thus planted her sex straight on the face of the slave girl underneath her. Before the half-orc could consider the arrangement further, the drow matron had plunged his manhood into her mouth and begun sucking. Sirina twitched in the firm grasp of Lysindra, showing clear signs that she was either not enjoying the show or enjoying it way too much. Even the slightest movement of the slave girl's hands towards her breasts or groin were punished by a quick slap by the priestess and Sirina could only keep watching. Down at the stage Soresha gasped for breath as she pulled her lips off the half-orc's dick, trailing a long string of clear precum from her plump lips. The drow slave had slipped her dexterous tongue in between the matron's slick, warm folds and was currently searching for her clit, while she teased Soresha's ass with the fingers of her right hand. The matron mother plunged down on the half-orc's member again, and he grunted. Unable to resist the urge anymore he put cupped the drow's head in his massive hands and began pushing her down on his shaft quicker and quicker. Where the two human men had been passionate after their initial reluctance, the half-orc seemed almost furious. He roared bestially as he kept face-fucking the drow priestess, the humiliation and shame of being captured by these effete beings and being turned into a pleasure-slave erupting in a burst of savage lust. For that brief moment, he was a conqueror cradling his broken prize, using her as nothing but a cocksleeve. The drow slave, however, while she was certainly putting effort into lapping Soresha's slit, was much more reserved. She was born drow, and not so naive as to believe she had become the matron's superior just because she had been allowed to eat her out. Soresha grinned as she noticed the ferocity of the half-orc's effort, and at the moment when he was at the peak of pent-up passion, she plunged his member deep into her throat, her warm soft lips wrapping around the shaft and her tongue lathering it. The half-orc roared as he came explosively, filling Soresha's mouth and throat with his ropy cum. The ejaculation was so forceful that wads of thick white fluid dribbled from the edges of the matron's lips as she was unable or unwilling to keep it all in her mouth or swallow it. The half-orc thrust again and again, his mind lost in red scenes of passion and fury before his orgasm began to fade. He breathed heavily and took a step back, his large member sliding out from Soresha's mouth like a fat snake, trailing semen across her jaw. Without even acknowledging the drow slave beneath her legs, the matron stood up and wiped a bit of the thick mess from her face onto her arm. She grinned up at Sirina and her daughter. She had not cummed yet. As the half-orc staggered back and caught his balance and the drow slave slid to her feet quietly and glumly, Soresha tip-toed across the arena, picking up her discarded clothes without breaking her stride. Despite the stains covering her black skin she seemed radiant and not at all tired, Lysindra thought. Soresha picked up her boots and then spoke a simple word which caused her to lift off the wooden floor and levitate up to the edge of the bleachers, where she stepped off daintily to stand in front of Sirina. The slave girl swallowed hard. Lysindra released the human and handed the silver chain back to her mother, who pulled Sirina up to her feet. "I have just allowed four slaves to use my body as they wished. Are you shocked, pet?" she asked with amusement. "A-a little, perhaps," Sirina said, staring down at her feet. "You liked watching it, and you're ashamed. It's only natural. You have kept your virginity for Pelor, but your body has still developed. But why, then, do you think I did this?" Sirina remained quiet. "For a few reasons," Soresha said conversationally and turned around, stepping back towards the edge of the arena and pulling her slave along. "First, to show how easily mortals are turned to debauchery. The human with the brown hair there has a betrothed, did you know that? He told her he would save himself for her and wanted her to bear his children. Even now he regrets what he's done to earn his freedom. The bald one was a soldier, and when his patrol were overrun by drow raiders he turned tail and ran. When his captain tried to stop him, the soldier ran him through. All to have a chance at saving his own hide." Lysindra walked up to join Soresha as the matron continued. "The half-orc is a brute and a mercenary who hates the dark elves for slaughtering his family years ago. He served with the duergar to get his revenge. He was captured in a border skirmish and probably believes that when he's released he can return with knowledge of Erelhei-Cinlu to stage an attack. Finally the drow girl was a minor noble who was targeted for assassination by a rival house. She slew her assassin but the rival house successfully turned the tables and had her exiled for slaying one of their own, as there was no proof she had not been the attacker. She was stricken from the record of her house and sold here, simply for defending her own life," the matron finished, looking at Sirina. "How can you treat them like this when you know all this?" the slave said in a whisper. "How can you not feel anything for them?" "Because compassion is weakness. Knowing someone's inner feelings and desires is simply a way to find a weapon to attack them. Because caring is for the weak, not for the damned," Soresha said, turning her face to Sirina. "Why did you give your body to them?" the blonde human girl asked quietly. "Because it amused me to see them forsake their personal beliefs and hatreds and become part of drow society. Because it pleased me to let them think they were dominant. Because it pleased me to let them think that by giving up their spirits they had a chance." Sirina snapped her head up to stare at Soresha with wide eyes. Lysindra reached over to hold the slave girl firmly by tugging her wrists behind her back. "W-what do you... no. No, you-" the former priestess of Pelor shouted. "Do you feel for them now, my pet? Does knowing their tragic back stories make you empathize with them?" Soresha said with a smile. "Do you realize how weak that makes you?" "Don't. Please. Don't!" Sirina said pitifully. "They gave up everything they still believed in for the feeble flicker of hope. Think about that," Soresha said utterly calmly and turned towards the arena. "There can only be one punishment for a slave who defiles a drow matron" Soresha raised her hand. All around the edge of the arena the house Malande soldiers raised their crossbows and aimed. Down on the arena floor the four slaves suddenly realized what was happening. The bald man ran towards one of the doors, pounding on the unyielding metal. The brown-haired youth sank to his knees, crying. The half-orc shouted a string of violent curses and ran towards the wall where Soresha and her entourage stood. The drow slave just stood there, her face entirely apathetic, as if she had known all along. Soresha made a chopping movement with her hand. The crossbows fired in unison. Sirina screamed.