Sufferance Ch. 02byEtaski©
Author's Notes: This story is erotic fantasy written by Etaski. I reserve the right to be listed as the author of this story, wherever it is posted. If found posted anywhere except Literotica.com with this note attached, this story is posted without my permission. © Etaski 2012
This story is continued.
Elder D'Shea was in the process of donning her full uniform when we were bid to enter. She had also set out a few pieces that enhanced the beauty of it, transforming it from the practical into her "dress" uniform. She would be heading out soon, likely to the Palace or something to do with the Valsharess herself.
Nevertheless, she listened to Jaunda speak about what we'd witnessed in the small meeting room, and agreed with the assessment that House Itlaun would be one to watch—not so much due to a Noble catching a Draegloth's seed, but the fact that this Priestess chose to favor Itlaun in her own way, and might be playing with their bloodline for some time to come. When Wilsirathon showed a House favor, other Priestesses and Houses would know, too, but the Red Sisters existed to find out the why. If it was not in the Valsharess's best interests...then the plot would have to be seen to in some way.
"Thank you, Jaunda," D'Shea said now, fitting a bracer exactly right. "I believe Elder Rausery was looking for additional hands; if you can present yourself and yours, see if she has need of your team."
Jaunda smirked and nodded. "Yes, D'Shea."
"But first find Gaelan and send her to me."
Again she nodded and gestured to me. I turned to follow her when our superior spoke again.
"Leave her here, Jaunda. Your team should be fully experienced today."
My trainer glanced at me with a slight tightening of her mouth but didn't argue; perhaps she would only miss having her handy snatch to bend over and plow when she needed the release. I was still tender between my legs from the spying we'd just done, but that wouldn't make a difference to her appetite.
I, on the other hand, was both annoyed and curious at being left here. Annoyed because of the old paradox: if I'm not experienced, I won't go on tougher missions, but if I don't go on tougher missions, I won't get experience.
However I was also curious what D'Shea might say to me, or whether she would have me run an errand with Gaelan instead, or whether she had something else in mind. I noticed my superior hadn't asked me even one question about our spying, had practically ignored me as she gave Jaunda her full attention. I knew that during a report being made by a higher-ranking Sister, I was not to volunteer anything unless asked.
Jaunda made a respectful bow to D'Shea and strode out, all power and confidence as she went to collect her team, the same team who had found Gaelan and me in the cave after I had been first introduced to the magical phallus.
I found it odd that Jaunda's team truly did seem to enjoy each other's company; certainly they enjoyed the power they possessed in numbers and having similar skills and ideas of entertainment. They were the first to test me when I'd been admitted into the Red Sisters. They had worked together even then, sharing me rather than fighting over me, as they explored every spare inch of my body and its most common responses. They had it easiest—or perhaps I had with them—for it was with them that the remaining periods of Divine Need both rose up inside me and were quenched. Even after it had worn off and I'd returned to my normal, above-average appetite, they could still make me wet.
It seemed first claims truly meant something in this Sisterhood. Elder Rausery and her lot, for example—including Qivni, my original collector—seemed mostly to act on obligation when my turn with them had come. They were not claiming me or sorting out where I fit among them, as Jaunda and the others had done, but simple testing my resilience, intelligence, or strength of will. Was I good enough to be among them? Could my appetites rival theirs, or would I be consumed by the fierce and demanding attention?
Rausery had tried to break me with pain...but was barely even irritated when she failed and turned me back over to D'Shea to heal up. Several others of lower rank merely had their fun, and a couple had scarcely spent the time necessary to penetrate me and climax themselves, as if they didn't care about my strength, perhaps knew they wouldn't be the one to break my limits, but only needed to sample me to do their part. Several of them did not even have a magical phallus of their own; they used their hands and other tools.
The only one who hadn't used me for her pleasure so far was Elder D'Shea. I'd bathed her once before we slept that first end-cycle after I'd been captured re-entering the outskirts of the City. I'd even slept in the same bed with her by invitation. It turned out to be the only period of sleep for two score of cycles that had been uninterrupted. The tests had begun immediately; endurance training while awake, and the intimate, sometimes brutal claiming of my body afterward, before I might rest. If I had known that in advance, I might have enjoyed my reverie in D'Shea's bed a little more.
I'd been expecting D'Shea eventually to take her turn, though I'd never asked about it. Perhaps it was now, as we waited for Gaelan?
"Tell me your impressions of what you saw, Sirana," D'Shea commanded quietly, motioning for me to come forward and help her don the rest of her dress uniform.
"Pretty much what Jaunda said, Elder," I responded, picking up a piece of blue ribboned metal.
"That piece goes on after this one," D'Shea said as she swapped it with another small bracket of pure mithril. Then she smirked and said skeptically, "Pretty much, but not exactly. I want to hear what you experienced. From the sound of it, you had the better view and more ability to focus as the receiver. What did Jaunda miss?"
I slowly attached the bracket before accepting the ribbon bar, working to get it level on her chest. "She missed that Curgia wanted to bargain to end the pregnancy if she caught from Kerse. Wilsirathon didn't say no. She smiled instead."
D'Shea nodded. "Chances are that one won't come to term. It's only a guarantee, as the Priestess said. She'll make the merchant sweat for a few months, but she'll grant it in the end."
I picked up another piece. "You're so sure, Elder?"
"This is not the first time she's done this," my sponsor smiled knowingly at me before pointing where this next symbol went. "Wilsira always chooses the inexperienced ones who think beautiful offspring is the easy way to power, but she's jealous of Kerse, and has never let any of his offspring live—even if the one he bred actually gave birth. More often than not, Wilsira has made another bargain to get something else she wants in exchange for an early termination. That will be the case here; Curgia does not have the will to live through the shame."
"Shame," I repeated, pondering that. "Wilsirathon commented Kerse was part of her, that his gift was more holy than the Consorts, more powerful for being of the Abyss and Lolth's Desire."
D'Shea chuckled. "In some ways, she's right. The Consorts are beautiful, but that's about it. A rare one will also have a vision ability, not unlike an oracle, but we haven't seen one of those in forty years. The last one was fought over to the extent that even the Sisterhood couldn't protect him. More trouble than they're worth when they become known."
We tightened down the final piece, and she began to direct me in how to apply the sashes so they would drape just right.
"And the Draegloth?" I asked. "What have you seen of their abilities?"
My superior's intuition, or perhaps just the sharpness of her ears, astounded me at times. She looked at me straight in the eyes then, held them, and when I didn't move but waited, she slowly smiled. "What have you seen, Sirana?"
"They can't cross certain wards, so they're magical in nature," I said.
She made a face; that was an inane answer, even I knew it. "And?"
I shook my head, not willing to give up quite yet in spite of that powerful, copper gaze. "I've only seen the same one humping two different snatches, Elder."
"I don't believe you." My gaze wavered, and she pounced. "Come now, Blue Eyes. What do you at least *think* you saw?"
I was quiet a moment then asked, "How powerful are those Glyphs at the spy slits?"
"Very," she said bluntly. "You know yourself it's impossible for your hands to slip by accident, and no Drow has senses strong enough to detect what we don't want them to detect."
"Who made the Glyphs?" I countered. "How do we know that there isn't some weakness? The Sisterhood doesn't seem to use as much magic as—"
D'Shea laughed once. Then she slapped me hard.
The echo faded and we stayed still for a few moments. When she didn't admonish me further, indeed her expression was quite peaceful, I took it that she didn't mind my thinking along those lines. She was warning me about babbling on such topics too soon. It was not the first time she had done so. In a different way, she was training me as much as Jaunda.
"What did you see Kerse do, Sirana?" she asked again, quietly enough for me to know that if I deflected the question again, there would be consequences worse than a stinging cheek.
"He stopped and... smiled behind him at the empty room. He seemed to look straight at me," I said, needing to redo one of the sashes that I'd been holding when she slapped me. "I don't know for sure that he knew I was there. I had whispered the release word and removed one hand from the Glyphs before he exited the door."
"Mistake," she said. "Don't repeat it. Always wait until they have all left." A pause. "Was the ight hand or left removed?"
She frowned. "You're sure. And the other was still in place."
I nodded. "Yes, Elder."
"Had you moved your feet?"
"And where was Jaunda?"
"Five steps to my right, facing the wall."
She was quiet as we finished up, and I had resigned myself not to be privy to her thoughts; I so often wasn't. My cheek still stung and I decided I wouldn't have another.
She was awe-inspiring in her dress uniform; the balance of red and black meant she would match a backing of Sisters, but the blue and gold accents made her stand out as one of our leaders. This was not something to do on a mission or in battle, but it was something to do at Court and at the Palace, before those who needed reminders to behave in the Valsharess audience.
I had thought, the first time seeing a dress uniform, that it was silly for a group of assassins. Wouldn't it be better to have us all dress the same, so no one knew exactly who was in charge? Wouldn't it add to the mystique and wonder?
The only reason I could see right now was, perhaps, that our own behavior made it impossible not to show status and power in our very air; if we were all dressed the same, then they could still tell who led. Why not, then, take advantage of an arresting image before a race obsessed with power and beauty?
"He couldn't have heard or smelled you," D'Shea said now, and I was stunned that she'd given me that. She looked at me straight again. "The only Glyph you deactivated was to enhance your own senses. All other wards were still in place. Unless you slipped your other hand without realizing?"
She raised an eyebrow and I shook my head, eye contact not wavering. "My hand did not move, Elder. I remember the grit beneath all five fingers and the magic in my palm."
Slowly she nodded; she looked to believe me.
"This isn't an ability you know of the Draegloth?" I asked cautiously.
My superior half-smiled. "Each one has a different sire. Only their mothers know what they might expect from their heritage. We watch, learn, and catalogue. I thought I knew Kerse's range pretty well. It is...disturbing that he might be able to sense through powerful wards. But we don't know that for sure."
"Would Wilsirathon know that, if he could?" I asked.
"Of course," D'Shea answered. "That's what's disturbing. She dotes on him more than most Priestesses do their sons, and he is loyal to her. She controls him and she has been using every aspect of him to her advantage for the past three centuries."
"And yet he told me his name," I commented.
She gave me a sharp look. "Do not go there, Sirana. Playing a game like coaxing a Draegloth to stray from his Priestess is dangerous. Do not think one coupling somehow gives you real sway over a creature conditioned to do anything—"
"But I did do just that," I countered. "If his conditioning was absolute, I would never have gotten his name. He would have broken my body instead and done as his mother said."
My Elder was silent a moment, her face hard. "Meaning what exactly, Blue Eyes?"
"He has more free will than she knows. She's underestimating him. He could even be hiding that strong ability from her. He waited until she'd left the room to look behind him like that."
D'Shea's mouth twitched. "Perhaps that was accidental. He knows what benefits him."
"Are you underestimating his intelligence, Elder?"
"Are you overestimating it?" she shot back. "I've been watching him and his kind for nearly my whole life. Perhaps his conditioning isn't iron clad, but he is still not capable of intricate, long-term plots, Sirana. Draegloth appetites are too immediate and they are easily distracted by short-term opportunity. His lapse with you was exactly that, a lapse brought on by distraction, by the fact that you sounded like his dam. Distraction is one thing that they *do* all have in common, and it has never changed over millennia. It is that chaotic quality in all from the Abyss."
I remained quiet, surprised my other cheek wasn't stinging by now as much as I'd been arguing, and I pondered whether she was right. She let some of the tension ease back out of her face and sighed.
"That boldness spoke well for you in the trials, Sirana," she said, "but don't pursue it beyond that. You do not have the experience to take on Wilsirathon and not end up like Curgia, with Kerse's cock wedged wherever the Priestess tells him. I have plans for you that don't include her. As your knowledge grows, so will your reach, I promise you that. Until then," she patted my sore cheek like I was a child, "don't get on the wrong side of Lolth's Chosen, and avoid their offspring if you can."
I stood uncertain for several moments. I didn't know how to feel about this, or whether to trust it. Was she claiming to champion me in some way? Was she holding out a carrot I'd never get, or was she showing me the way to real power and reward, as if she would share it with her servants?
Regardless, I knew D'Shea had the longevity and experience between us. Perhaps it was only my own paranoia that made me think Kerse was lying in wait for something, with abilities even his mother didn't know he had.
Perhaps it was the fact that my own sister had underestimated me the same way. She hadn't seen it coming.
He had smiled at me. I was...almost certain.
Gaelan and I flanked D'Shea as we exited a back passage into a clear, candlelit hallway; the dress uniform in red and black, the pure red one, and the black one, all there for any to see. I wondered whether I stood out as much as my superior, but as the obvious trainee rather than the commander, or did the mixture of black into the dress arrangement confuse those who knew little of our inner workings? It soothed my ego to think so as we passed cautious onlookers.
D'Shea had only said one thing to us before we left: "Do not speak, and do only what I tell you."
The unspoken punishment if we embarrassed her was no doubt dire.
Gaelan had let me go in front, following D'Shea, and she pinched my ass before we left. I had jumped.
"Too tense, Sirana," my superior said without looking behind her. "Relax."
I shot a glare behind me at Gaelan, but she just winked. Her lips drew my attention as she smiled, and as I recalled them pressed soft and hot on my sex, I did relax and let my irritation go.
Gaelan, formerly the newest Sister before I was hauled into the scene, was the only Red Sister I knew who still enjoyed receiving more than she did giving. She wouldn't allow me to use the magical phallus on her; that was forbidden. But during an encounter with her, I could take back enough power for a short time as to prevent myself from snapping and exploding in murderous rage.
It actually was a danger for me.
There had been one time when, before Jaunda had "claimed" me and I was still being tested, a gang of six over-enthusiastic Sisters wouldn't let me rest for three cycles. They were like Jaunda's team working together, but against me and I could do nothing to stop them. They took shifts to train me in the waking hours and would prevent me from slipping into reverie as they harassed me.
Eventually they left me alone, but I heard their laughter long after they'd gone. Pushed to my physical limits and without respite for too long, I'd been contemplating a suicidal attack against them, not caring at all if I became a Drider afterward. I only wanted them dead, like my blood sister.
Gaelan had found me wandering, disoriented, and had taken me somewhere private to heal.
"I wonder whether Rausery ordered this," she had murmured as she set a potion to my lips.
She had seduced me then, had given herself to me as magical strength flowed back into me. All my anger and helplessness bloomed with the strength...and she let me take it out on her. She wore the cock and submitted, and I fucked her until I'd fallen down, exhausted, and finally slept. When I woke, I had returned to my senses, realized what I had been about to do.
Make no mistake, after that episode Gaelan made me kneel and used me well with that elusive, magical tool. I was not allowed to forget my place. I'd let myself cum with her rutting me on all fours, knowing once more that she had preserved my life.
I was fairly certain it was the same Sister's phallus I'd first been introduced to—I'd gotten to know it well—and I recalled Gaelan leaving a pouch with its approximate shape in D'Shea's quarters my first time there. It didn't seem likely to me that Gaelan was using something of D'Shea's own without her knowing about it—and approving of it.
I'd never had a defender in my life, but starting that night I suddenly had Gaelan, D'Shea, and very soon Jaunda and her group. The excessive trouble lessened, but I noticed my previous flippant Court attitude had taken so many beatings, starting with the tests in the wilderness, that I was far more serious than I'd been. More watchful and wary.
This was probably why Gaelan pinched my bottom now. "Give it enough time," her smile seemed to say, "and the confidence, the buoyant attitude will come back." I had only to look at her, to see how far she'd come. I had only to survive and my old self would come back, stronger than before.
I started to wonder when the next potential recruit might come into our midst. Would she be strong enough to take my place? How long had Gaelan had to wait for me to arrive? I had yet to ask her; D'Shea kept her plenty busy and we had not spoken even as much as we had in the cave. There had been barely enough time for me to work through the stress with her a couple of times, always ending our tryst with that life-like rod either up my ass or my cunt, or down my throat.
I still missed the real cocks, though, for their own sake. The last one had been the Consort, for all of a few seconds before I had been wrenched off of him. And prior to that...the Duergar. Not a pleasant memory. As much sex as I'd been having or had been subjected to among the Red Sisters, that primal essence was missing. I tasted no semen, none had touched me or filled me. It felt as though some part of me was celibate. Seeing Kerse today had been a pleasant surprise, believe it or not. I'd almost been jealous of Curgia, for Lolth's sake; jealous of the real semen he'd released in her. Twice.