The Apostate Ch. 04

The tassels Shandra seemed to like so much dangled from every strip of leather on the device.

"No," Lirafey said. "I like them too, but the harness is too...clumsy. You know I prefer subtler torments."

"If I may," the craftsman who was following them around interjected. Lirafey signaled him to go ahead. "What I have here is a limited selection. My primary shop is in the Bazaar. Only thirty days into the 66 I'm allotted for my space. There are more...elaborate designs. Something for everyone, as my motto states."

The drow leatherworker had a slimy demeanor. He was the type to cater to everyone and damn whoever wasn't in the room with him at the time. But still, Lirafey had seen his works in action at the Torviir castle and in brothels all over town. He was no liar, that was for certain.

"Something shocking," she said, a wicked gleam in her eye.

"Whips and crops and harnesses treated with electric eel blood," the drow said, nodding eagerly, almost giddy as he explained. "Even some enchanted by hedge wizards to shock on command. To your liking, Mistress?"

"Perfect," Lirafey said, imagining the possibilities.

Shandra was veritably dripping, her mouth hanging open and her eyes empty at the prospect.

"Come, Shandra. We will visit the Bazaar on the morrow. Tonight, I'd like to stay at the Black Web," she said. Then, she looked at the craftsman. "Any whores using your wares tonight?"

"Always," he said, giggling aloud. He rubbed his hands together. They smelled like tannin. "Yaulinth Moistrose has a variety of my implements. She's quite skilled and specializes in tormenting her male suitors. Ryltan the Stave enjoys my harnesses quite a lot. You'll find him either hanging from the ceiling with a line behind him or with a few of his fellow sluts on each arm."

"Indeed," Lirafey said. She and her battle-captive left and made for the Black Web, ignoring the trollops outside. Classless whores, one and all, already displaying their goods to the passers-by without even a copper.

"Think you could out-earn them in a night?" Lirafey asked Shandra.

"Don't be ridiculous," the sorceress said, smirking. "In an hour."

The duo found Yaulinth and Ryltan quickly enough; the leatherworker was not exaggerating. Yaulinth was obviously catering to higher class clients than the whores outside could even hope for. Her leathers were tight, perfectly fitted, and did wonders for her physique, which only seemed slightly worn down from decades of sexual use and, if her current situation was any indicator, gratuitous amounts of mindsmoke and wine. Her eyes were slightly sunken in, but she had the bearing and posture of a matron mother. If it weren't for the two males rutting at her in the barely-curtained nook she occupied, she might have been mistaken for one.

Lirafey was hoping for a spectacle when she saw Ryltan. A bevy of hung studs lined up to abuse him, or strapped priestesses looking to take their aggression out on a male, would have suited her just fine. But Ryltan was reclining with a bowl of pipeweed in one hand, and a breast in the other hand. He was certainly wearing a fine harness and nothing else. His muscular, lean thighs glistened in the dim lighting, his hair immaculately structured behind his ears, and his cock—an impressive specimen in its thickness—hanging free from the harness's cockring. There were females of various species around him, laughing and drinking and smoking, but none seemed to be going for his cock.

A curiosity, but nothing that demanded Lirafey's further attention. She went to the barkeep with Shandra and purchased lodging with more coin than the room was worth, and was immediately shown to her room.

"May I make an observation, Mistress?" Shandra asked with unusual restraint.

Lirafey gave her a glance before looking around at their lodgings. "Yes."

"You want to fuck tonight, but you need something out of the ordinary. Something beyond the normal fistings and whippings. Something beyond biting and scratching."

"Very astute," Lirafey said. "Any ideas?"

"I could wrangle up all the harlots downstairs, but I doubt that's exactly what you're looking for," Shandra said.

"You're right. I can't put my finger on it—or in it, as the case may be—but I need something...different."

"Something visceral," the sorceress said, her voice going throaty.

"Yes."

"Something to make you scream," she added.

"Yes, yes," Lirafey said, sounding frustrated as she looked around the room, then back to Shandra, who was suddenly naked, magical energy weaving around her fingers. The mage slapped Lirafey across the face. Before the priestess could fathom it, she backhanded her mistress, busting her lip and setting her to bleeding into her mouth.

"You insolent cunt," Lirafey growled, but Shandra's magic came to fruition. She grasped Lirafey by the neck and electricity bit into the high priestess—not lethal, just enough to jolt her over and over again. Lirafey screamed, and with her mouth open, Shandra met her mistress with a kiss, her tongue burrowing into Lirafey's mouth as the electrical energy dissipated over both of their bodies.

Lirafey split from the mage, eyes wide, caught between rage and confusion.

"Do that again," she snapped suddenly, and this time both of Shandra's hands were spitting lightning as she grabbed Lirafey by throat and cunt. Electricity rattled her teeth, her entire body set aflame with such a unique pleasure that she could only scream in bliss.

"Fuck," Lirafey gasped when Shandra let go. "You're magic...fuck me with it!"

Shandra grinned like a fiend. With a word of power, she slammed her fist into Lirafey's chest, and all of the priestess's garments and armor fell to the floor, blown off her body by the sorceress's magic. Shandra conjured twin whips of pure arcane force. She cracked one against Lirafey's hip, and the priestess hissed and arched her back. The sting of a whip was not foreign to servants of Lolth, after all. Shandra struck with the other whip, across the breast, raising a grayish welt just above Lirafey's nipple.

She was whimpering, breathing hard and fast. Shandra continued lashing her mistress, circling her, letting her magic work its course through the priestess's body. Every strike of the whip infused the priestess with a sort of poison. It was her own specially designed spell, one she'd never had a chance to use.

"I'm going to make you into a painslut," Shandra said in throaty tones. The poison in Lirafey's blood was altering her nerves. Every bite of pain flared at first, but heightened the pleasure thereafter. In a sense, every strike of the whip was making Lirafey feel more and more pleasure, but not without feeling a slightly amplified pain.

Satisfied that her spell was at full effect, Shandra slapped Lirafey across the face again, then immediately pinched her nipple in her other hand, gently at first, then twisting and pulling on the sensitive nub. Lirafey howled in bliss as she fell to her knees, overcome with her first nipple-induced orgasm.

With a few words, Shandra lit her fingers with electricity again, and began running them all over Lira's breasts, shocking the nipples into constant turgidity before dragging her fingertips down Lirafey's flanks, hips and thighs. She knelt before the priestess and slid her electric fingers up the drow's inner thighs. Lirafey's body spasmed all over, shaking and jerking to and fro, her breasts bouncing and wobbling with every movement.

But when Shandra slid two charged fingers into Lirafey's spasming, dripping cunt, she screamed in a mix of pain and pleasure the likes of which Shandra had only heard in House Mourlefey's dungeons.

Shandra began laughing. "That's my slut Mistress, howl in the pleasure you've commanded from me!" the sorceress said, fucking Lirafey with her fingers, slowly working a third into her spasming cunt. Before long, she had all five fingers up to the knuckles, shocking the inside of her pussy with her magic. The torment was so blissful that Lirafey went numb, her body buckling as she orgasmed repeatedly. Her juices flowed like an Underdark river over Shandra's hand. She dismissed the enchantment and Lirafey simply lay there, numb and overstimulated, her brain too melted to function.

Which was a shame, because Shandra was thoroughly worked up and needed her cunt tended to. She'd spent this entire journey self-pleasuring, and was, frankly, tired of it. She spent a fair amount of time placing lethal wards on her mistress, making sure she wasn't despoiled in her absence, sealed the door magically, and went down the stairs to the common room, where many drow patrons were eyeing her with open hunger. Her hand was still greased, and she smelled like Lirafey's sex.

A hulking, ochre-skinned woman seemed right up her alley. A half-ogre, half-orc creature known as an ogrillon, she had massive breasts, ham-hands, and, to Shandra's delight, a fleshy cock hanging from her hips. While far from common, it wasn't the first time she'd seen a woman so endowed. The thing was immense, and she felt like a challenge, so she approached the beast with open desire in her eyes.

"I think you'd rather come this way," a silky voice said. It was one of the courtesans, a drow with golden eyes. Her silk shift covered her breasts and her chest, but was held on by two thin strings around her neck and her back. A silk drape covered her bottom and her cunny. All of the fabric was black with silver threadwork.

"I think not," Shandra said, licking at her creamy hand.

"Trust me. That one is meaning to kill you," the courtesan said. "And before you get any ideas, she's not going to fuck you. She saw you enter earlier and made it plain she had only bloodlust on the brain."

"A shame, she's a fine specimen," Shandra said, diverting her course to follow the courtesan.

"There are many here," she replied with a smile. Shandra was suddenly surrounded by the knot of pleasure-seekers they'd seen earlier, Yaulinth and Ryltan among them.

"So," Yaulinth said, "are you responsible for the cacophony upstairs?"

"My mistress has peculiar tastes, at times," Shandra said. She was rubbing her fingers together, feeling Lirafey's discharge clinging to her skin. Ryltan noticed.

"That her?" he asked, and Shandra nodded. He sidled over to her, knelt to his knees, and sniffed. "Delicious. May I?"

Shandra nodded. Ryltan went to work cleaning her hand, taking his time to take each finger into his throat as he slurped loudly, putting on a show. His cock was growing, but Shandra yanked her hand back. "Some of this is for me," she said in a threatening voice. He grinned and turned to walk back to his seat.

"You would do well here," Yaulinth said. "Make your mistress some money."

"I know," Shandra said, crossing her arms. Her large breasts billowed from under them, threatening the integrity of her blouse. She crossed her legs, effectively closing herself off from the charms of the prostitutes trying to recruit her.

"Cocky, too," one of the other harlots said. "I know a few that would like that."

"I serve my mistress, and her alone," Shandra said, her tone uncompromising.

"Aye, of course," Yaulinth said. "We know how things work. Some of us were actually nobles at one point, and we recognize a battle-captive when we see one. Between the collar, the way you look at her, and the way you walk behind her, it's easy to spot. But Cyrin over there recognizes you from a certain establishment in Menzoberranzan. The Spidermask. You were a dancer there, were you not?"

"Among other things," Shandra said.

"Aye, among other things. Take a closer look and rake your memory, Shandra, formerly of House Auvryana."

Shandra glared at Yaulinth. She didn't like having her heritage thrown in her face. But she complied, looking over at Cyrin, a male of no outstanding stature. He was not overly handsome, but he was not ugly. He was in no way remarkable. And that, in itself, sparked her memory. The male had paid her a dozen pieces of gold to suck on her toes and fuck her feet. It was the first foot job she'd given.

"Ah, Cyrin is your name? Tell me, do you suck all the girls' toes the way you did mine?" Shandra asked, and Cyrin grinned with pride.

"Glad to have left a mark," he said.

"Tell me you wouldn't like to go back to a life of whoring," Yaulinth said. "The gold you make would please your mistress, no doubt."

"If she's willing to share me," Shandra said. She sighed. "I will speak with her. She will want to meet with you."

"I've no doubt," Yaulinth replied. "Go, then. And take any of use you wish with you. I know you were looking for something particularly...large."

"I'll have Ryltan," Shandra said without hesitation. "For free."

"Free?" the male said, and Shandra shrugged, her breasts bouncing.

"Go," Yaulinth said. "Perhaps you will earn your keep. If not, I dare say it will be a worthy experience, judging from the sounds we just heard."

*****

Myrynda sat up quickly, the sounds of a woman screaming filling her ears.

"What in all the bloody hells was that?" she asked Kelaxle, who seemed amused.

"I have my suspicious. Sure enough, though, someone is getting thoroughly fucked down the hall," he replied. "Your sister arrived with a rather large and delicious-looking male, a high priestess, and a battle-captive."
"Why didn't you wake me?" Myrynda asked urgently.

"Relax," Kelaxle said, smiling at her as he moved to lay next to the priestess. "I tailed them. Unseen, of course. They are housing themselves in one of the rental homes. We can visit them at our leisure."

"Fool," Myrynda said, shoving the amorous rogue away. "You know not what you've seen. Those buildings have served more than one purpose since they were built. Hells, it's why they were built! We must go now!"

Kelaxle, admonished, donned his leathers and weapon belt, rapier and dagger on their respective hips. Myrynda slid on her supple chainmail hauberk that hugged her slender body, a mace, and a buckler. Her whip was on her belt. Huffing, she shoved the door open and stormed out with Kelaxle in tow.

His hand gripped her shoulder and pulled her back quickly, though, as a female drow walked out of another unit, her hand dripping on the floor. Myrynda struggled until Kelaxle said, "That's the battle-captive. I'll wager my cock that your sister is in there."

Myrynda grinned eagerly, pleased that her lover was showing his worth. They watched the curvy drow walk down the stairs, then approached the door. Kelaxle held up a warning hand. "Wards," he whispered and drew a wand from House Torviir's magical armory. He tapped it against the door and watched it soundlessly swing inward, revealing the naked, panting, and sweaty form of Lirafey Mourlefey.

"Lolth's bounty," Kel said. "Should I?"

"House Mourlefey is an ally, Kel," Myrynda said. "No rape. Just make sure she's willing to be fucked again."

"As you say, Myr," he responded, walking over and kneeling next to Lirafey. "Princess Mourlefey," he whispered, leaning closer. She muttered something, and he grinned. His hand snaked down her naked body to her swollen vulva.

Wards activated, flaring to life with brilliant violet fire.

Kel was incinerated instantly.

*****

Myrynda's mouth dropped open in horror. Lirafey began to rise from the floor, clearly dazed, as the room began to fill with the scent of burnt drow flesh. Myrynda backed away, reaching for the door, forgetting it was already open and nearly falling into the hall. Lirafey made eye contact with the Torviir priestess and recognition slowly began to dawn on her as she saw the House emblem hanging from her neck.

"Luriia's sister?" she asked, shaking the post-orgasmic fog from her mind. Myrynda's eyes were wide, rimmed with tears, and she did not respond. She turned to flee.

"Wait!" Lirafey shouted, but Myrynda was running back to her room to gather her bags. "Blasted hells," Lira said, gathering herself, dressing hastily. It took her a solid five minutes to get her chainmail back on. By the time she was ready to chase down the younger priestess, Shandra was entering the room, Ryltan in tow.

She saw the burnt husk of a drow and frowned a little. "That kills the mood a touch," she deadpanned. Lirafey glanced at her, the harnessed male behind her, and shook her head.

"Ditch the fuck-buddy. One of the Torviir girls is here and we have to stop her before she gets back to Menzoberranzan."

Shandra huffed. "Fine. Ryltan, give Yaulinth my regards and get out of my sight." The male seemed to pout a little, but left regardless. "We have much to discuss, Mistress."

"Later," she said. "If we don't get to this Torviir girl before she gets back to her mother, there's a likely chance that I'll be accused of aiding an apostate. I don't want that; you don't want that. I'll be executed and you alongside me."

"Point made," Shandra said. "That way?"

"Yes," Lirafey said. "Let's go."

The two marched down the hall and barged into the only room with a door slightly ajar. There were several empty bottles of wine, but no trace of the drow priestess. They rushed to the window and saw the younger drow dashing down the street toward Menzoberranzan. To their chagrin, they discovered that she had a riding lizard stabled not too far away. She mounted it deftly and was gone in the blink of an eye.

"We need a ride," Lirafey said, her voice a growl.

"Come, the stable master may have an extra mount for us," Shandra said, and they were off.

The stable master did, indeed, have a riding lizard available, but it was obviously old and had not been well-kept. Still, it would have to do. They mounted the lizard together, Shandra seated behind her mistress as Lirafey drove.

*****

The Order of Apostates had built themselves an intricate network of corridors both magical and mundane throughout Menzoberranzan. Lura could not keep track of the plentiful twists and turns, and it surprised her not that the Order had survived for as long as it had. There were few organizations in the city that were as well-hidden as this one. After an hour of traversing the confusing labyrinth, Valshar finally stopped, a prismatic door before her.

The colors undulated and shifted rapidly, bathing them in a rainbow of colors. Wherever they were, there was obviously no threat of the light betraying them.

"Welcome," Valshar said, "to the Chamber of the Gods."

She waved her hand over the door and it spiraled inward with a hiss, creating a tunnel. Hammer led the way, followed by Lura and Valshar. The half-drow was smiling wide, her violet-painted lips gleaming in the multicolored lights.

The chamber was circular and broken into twelve segments, like slices of a pie. Each segment had a crest representing one of the major deities: the starburst of Corellon, Sune's white face and red hair, the gauntlet of Torm, the eye of Helm, the flaming sword of Tempus, the blooming rose of Chauntea, the skeletal arm and scales of Kelemvor, the black mask of Mask, Mystra's seven stars, the eyes of Selûne, Gruumsh's eye, and the hammer and anvil of Moradin.

"Some of these surprise me," Lura said, pointing to Gruumsh's eye and the symbol of Moradin. "Orcs and dwarves?"

"In the City of Spiders, the old racial hatreds mean nothing. We band together to survive the drow."

"And why don't you flee to the surface?" Hammer asked.

"Some do," Valshar replied. "But the Underdark is not a forgiving place for those unskilled in its ways. Many of our comrades were brought here in slavery, many were born into servitude. Very few are adventurers like yourselves. Some only know the darkness of the Underdark, and have no wish to live elsewhere. Others have found bonds among our group, even love. This should be of no surprise, Luriia Torviir."

"Just Lura," the drow said. "I left my heritage behind many years ago."