tagSci-Fi & FantasySubterrane Ch. 03

Subterrane Ch. 03

byEtaski©

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

This story is continued.


******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you going to behave?" I asked.

He managed a faltering nod.

"Are you?"

Again a nod, this one more urgent.

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

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

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

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

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

"Pray you aren't lying."

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

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

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

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

"Two spoonfuls," he said grudgingly.

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

Excellent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Oh, Lolth damn it.*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sounded like he believed it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And if I do?" I asked caustically.

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

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

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

"He looked fine to me," I sneered.

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

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

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

My stomach went a little cold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We both know I did, Sirana."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps this Sister was indeed telling the truth.

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

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

"Somewhere more comfortable."

That gave me thought to pause.

"Why?"

"No demons but us, Sirana."

I didn't like the sound of that.

"Meaning?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Why not?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I want to know how your mouth feels."

"Please...please," I begged.

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

"Will you repay me in kind, Sirana?"

"Yes...yes," I gasped.

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

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

"Quite a lot."

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

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

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

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

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

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