A Drow's Dilemma Ep. 62: Deeper

"Oh, they will hurt her," Rostimira promised breathily. The words clearly aroused the rusalka behind him, and made the one in front of him giggle - if such a sound in so cruel a context could be called a 'giggle.' "She is your mate, yes? We smell her on you, and you on her. So we will not kill her right away. I would like to watch her face when we take you. Over. And over." Her tongue rolled and caressed 'over,' as if she was making love to the word itself. "Come, sistra. Let us join the others."

A surge of anger rushed through Caleldir. "You will regret this." He promised. But there was not much he could do. He was pretty well and securely caught.

Then the two women slipped into the water while towing him between them. Even with his weight, they had no problem speeding gracefully through the water. In fact, they didn't seem to require their arms. No, those limbs were employed in running across his flesh even as they moved forward. When finally they reached their destined alcove, the other rusalka with Selene had just managed to reach the spot from the land.

Under different circumstances, he could have developed something a fetish for hair like that. But their cruelty and sadism rather blunted that. Not in their cruelty towards him, since he was rather lackadaisical about that sort of thing nowadays, as much as he disliked pain and discomfort, but in their more obvious cruelty towards poor Selene, who he desperately wanted to protect from the same sort of things as the Duskhavens had already done to her.

Now with a closer view of the alcoves, it was apparent that most of these were connected and tunneled in and out of the walls. The section Caleldir and Selene were brought to was lavishly decorated with expensive pillows, cushions, blankets, and all things soft. Selene was pulled in first, and two of the rusalka with her came after to keep her held down. Then the other three worked together with their prehensile hair and light limbs to keep Caleldir restrained and pull him out of the water.

The room was not what Caleldir had expected. It made sense, after a fashion, as they would not find it hard to steal such things from the very rich city above, but the way that nothing seemed to be decaying from all the water struck him as odd. Then again, magic. No, the furnishing would have to play second fiddle to the inhabitants. His eyes darted around the room. How many of the creatures were there? He had no doubt that Althaia could rescue them from one or two, or even three, but a half dozen or more? Rusalka were sociable sociopaths most comfortable in large groups of their own kind. They were deeply fucked. Especially him, as Rostimira had already promised.

One with hair like fire sat on the elevated edge of rock, her legs spread to reveal the folds of her perfect pussy already swollen with arousal. They stood Caleldir between those inviting legs like an erotic marionette. This particular ledge turned out to be the perfect level to align their sexes, but they did not force him to penetrate - not yet. They seemed not at all inconvenience by Caleldir's struggling.

"There, lovers together again. You may stop singing, darlings." Rostimira commanded from her spot still directly behind the male. The others did as they were asked, but rather than halting abruptly, they let their voices die down and slip gracefully into silence. "Stop clawing her, Katia. I want her eyes and mind here." The lead rusalka admonished. Katia nodded in acknowledgment, and Rostimira turned her attention back to Caleldir.

Selene gained her own mind at the pace of the diminishing song. A look of heartbreaking loss crossed her features as she despaired of the song's end, an expression quickly replaced by confusion and horror. Wide, fearful eyes sought Caleldir's. Their hair had entangled her just as much as they had him; she couldn't use the necessary gestures to cast a spell. She was trapped again, and forced once more to watch helplessly from her corner. This time, there was no courage to be had from Althaia's presence. The drow had to figure out how to cope with it her own damned self.

Caleldir's eyes met Selene's. "We have to find a way out of this!" He said in frantic Undercommon. "What can we even do?" With a burst of effort, he hit the Rusalka behind him with potent Charm Magic. Maybe if they were all a bit more friendly...

"You must not plot escape." Rustimira admonished. It was unclear whether she could understand the true meaning of Caleldir's words, but it wasn't stretch of logic to believe that that was what the communication was about. "Try that again, and we gag you." Apparently, the charm magic did absolutely nothing. She didn't even acknowledge that it had happened. No mere nymph magic could affect the rusalka, for they were much more resistant to that sort of thing than most nymphs.

So much for the idea of merely changing languages. In retrospect, it was obvious that they would instantly know what was going on, so it was a very poor plan, but Caleldir was desperate.

One of the fey on Selene covered the drow's mouth with her hand just as Selene looked about to say something back. Selene bit it, of course, but her teeth couldn't do any damage to the other woman. The rusalka didn't even react. Either way, it prevented Selene from responding. Tears started anew from Selene's purple-flecked crimson eyes, but they were become more of frustration and rage than of fear. It was a start, anyway.

He gritted his teeth. This was way, way worse than the time when the nymphs took the three of them. And he highly doubted that one of these rusalka would turn out to be a second Althaia, an enormously more powerful version of them who was nonetheless inexplicably friendly.

"Now watch, dark elf, as we use your lover." Said the leader. Then she lowered her hands to Caleldir's cock and pressed him forward enough until he brushed against the redhead's wet core. Rustimira artfully rubbed him up and down her entrance to coat him with the other's slick arousal. All the while, hair from two (three?) other women kept him steady and upright.

Caleldir could not help but let out a ragged sigh through gritted teeth. "Please, do not do this!" He pleaded. "At least give me your name..." he asked the redhead.

The fire-haired rusalka's head tilted to the side. His question was confusing to her, as it was visibly confusing to all the other faces Caleldir could see (except for Selene, of course.) The redhead's eyes of the most pale blue flicked over to her leader in question. Would she allow him her name? Why did that seem like a privilege to him?

Despite the confusion, Rostimira continued rubbing his sex against the other fey. When he was adequately lubricated, she lined him up and used her hips to force him to penetrate the redhead. The other fey gasped in pleasure, and her core gripped him in possessive welcome. Rostimira continued to use her hips to thrust Caleldir inside the redhead as if he was some overlarge toy - an extension of her body. It was the leader's name that the redhead moaned aloud.

As always when he found himself inside a woman, the pleasure nigh overpowered him. It was incredible; he was reduced now to a strap-on, nothing more than a tool by which Rustimira pleasured the redhead. Whose name he did not now. Gods, he was having sex with a woman he knew absolutely nothing about, and that aroused him as much as it horrified him. He cast another guilty look towards Selene, feeling that somehow this situation was his own fault. Again.

By that time, the rusalka removed her hand from Selene's mouth. The mage stared with burning hatred just beyond Caleldir's shoulder where Rostimira's face rested. If there was any fairness in the world, Selene's gaze would have made the cunt drop dead that instant. No such fairness existed. The drow knew this all too well.

Of course, it became increasingly hard to keep his attention on things other than how. Rostimira's hip movements forced him in and out of the woman in front of him. Despite his best efforts, he soon felt an orgasm boiling up within him. If she did not stop, there was no way that he could prevent himself from cumming inside the Rusalka. By the Eternal, he prayed that she would not become pregnant from this.

"If you're very good, you might tell you names. Eventually. After we kill your mate." Rostimira told him. "You wonder why we do this? We grow bored. And we want to go back to motherland. So we torment you and we breed our replacements. That Faust cunt won't even notice. Eh, but I must admit. You are pretty. We keep you. We take you with us after."

Well, he had to admit, that was an extremely good plan. He did not know how Rusalka biology and reproduction compared to Nymphen biology and reproduction (yet) but with him as a brood-stallion they could produce a lot of powerful heirs. Oh, by the Eternal. He did not want to be the progenitor of a race of violent sadistic sociopaths.

Wait... Faust? What did he have to do with this? That was a thread he would have to follow up on.

"He's mine." Selene snarled. "You can't keep him." She surged against the two rusalka to absolutely no avail. Their hands whipped out. One grabbed the back of her neck and drew small pricks of blood in the process. Two others grabbed roughly at her breasts, making her gasp in discomfort. Selene's resolve crumbled again after that. She was right back where she started with terror and panic.

"Selene! Do not anger them!" He called to her in Common. "Remember our rituals!" He tried to keep his tone as non-resisting as possible. He did not mind defying them while it was just his safety on the line, but when it was Selene...

The rituals? Selene shuddered and blinked, trying desperately to gather her wits. The rituals. Death was not permanent. She did not have to stay here. The mage could choose blissful silence instead. There had to be some way to convince them they no longer wanted her alive. But... then she would slow them down at best, and be absolutely no help at worst. There still had to be something she could do to help even still. She couldn't just... leave Caleldir alone in this, could she? Bah, that wasn't the reason. It couldn't be. No. It was just that she couldn't be assured that they would try to kill her cleanly. Yes. That was a logical reason to stay. Her eyes fixed back on Caleldir. "I remember." She confirmed finally.

All the while, Rostimira continued thrusting Caleldir's cock into her subordinate. She laughed in delight at the sight of the drow trying and failing to do something about her captivity. The redhead paid little attention to what was happening behind her. Instead, she stared at the fey just beyond Caleldir's shoulder and let her voice grow in volume as her pleasure did the same. "Rosti, please! Don't stop!" She begged unnecessarily, for the fey leader was determined to keep going until their captive male spent his seed. Soon after, the redhead's body shuddered and clenched at him in orgasm.

The pleasure of being trapped between the rusalka made his breaths deep and ragged. As the redhead orgasmed around him, he struggled against his hairy bonds, trying to stop the inevitable. But he could not. Soon after the redhead came, he did too, sending off a huge spurt of seed into her faerie womb. He slumped, defeated. The silken hair of the Rusalka pulled his slumped body the rest of the way into the alcove. They laid him out on his back close, but not quite touching Selene. Rostimira sat herself down on Caleldir's lap. There was still enough headroom within the alcove for her to sit up comfortably.

"What do you mean by mentioning Faust?" He asked weakly. "Is he keeping you here somehow?"

"We do not have to tell you of out agreement with Faust." The leader said with haughty pride. "You are our toy. That is all you must know."

"If the agreement with Faust is one you are anxious to be rid of, the four of us can help! We are here to destroy him, after all, and have the means to do so. Even more so if you help us!" He was not quite sure of what 'help' they could be (in that he was not about to give them any of the things he was sure they would want for their assistance) but he had to make the offer anyway.

"We don't want him destroyed!" The fey leader protested. She shifted up on his body until she knelt over his face. The she grabbed a handful of his hair to lift his head into her aroused sex. "It is my turn for pleasure, toy. You." The leader pointed at the unnamed fey controlling Selene. "It's your turn on his cock. Go on."

The unnamed girl, the one with quicksilver hair that had been licking Caleldir earlier, traded places with the redhead. She sat where Rostimira had been sitting moments before. Her hands once again began exploring his exposed chest, clawing as they traveled. All the rusalka seemed oddly transfixed on the sight of claws running across flesh.

Caleldir was glad that whoever this other rusalka was had not put him inside her, not yet, which gave him a brief moment of concentration that he didn't have when he was being overwhelmed by pleasure. He tried to use what he knew of Charms to massively Heighten his innate charm magic and adapt it to be effective on Fey. It would take some time to channel, and time he did not have. Not yet. He would have to give Rustimira what she wanted, first (at least so far as getting her off). So, with that, he layered his tongue with his supremely useful pleasure spell and set to work, thrusting his tongue inside her, teasing around the edges of her labial lips, sucking and tenderly nipping at her clitoris, trying to see what sort of thing she was into.

"Our contract with him helps us, or we would just leave. We simply - " Rostimira paused to smack Caleldir firmly on the head with the hand that wasn't holding his face to her sex. "No teeth." She hissed in annoyance. Then she continued right where she left off "-grow tired of doing it ourselves." The rest of what he was doing seemed satisfactory, since her breath gradually grew heavier as time passed.

No teeth, got it, Caleldir thought to himself. He had read that some women liked that, and others did not, so it was worth a try. But now he would concentrate on what he knew would work. So, he kept busily sucking away, making his tongue broad and slow, and thin and nimble, and whatever else he needed to. There was a fine art to oral, he had discovered, and the sooner he got Rostimira off of him, the sooner he would be able to breathe freely. And, therefore, put his plan into motion. Such as it was. It was mostly to try to hit her with the most powerful charm monster spell he could possibly muster until she decided that she liked him more than Faust. That, or as a last resort, he could try to kill himself. Merely holding his breath would not do the trick, not really.

Meanwhile, the rusalka on his chest grew tired of using clawed fingernails against his helpless body. So she did as her leader asked. Her body shifted downwards, her hips rolled, and in one smooth motion she engulfed him. The remnants of his forced couple with the redhead was more than enough to make the entry silky smooth. Immediately she began bouncing up and down one him, her back to Rostimira. She groaned and gasped with the pleasure of it.

He had paid little attention to the way that the other rusalka was clawing up his chest. Her nails were not Cold Iron, after all, so it was more an annoyance than anything else. Sure, it hurt, even more than similarly sharp nails from a non-fey would, but not enough to concern him. Which was quite unlike the feeling of the unseen woman suddenly taking his entire length inside her. He gasped into Rostimira's pussy. For a moment, his oral ministrations slowed, as he dealt with the new feeling of this next woman he was coupling with. Rostimira had not been kidding when she had said 'Over. And over.' Every one of them felt subtly different inside, but they all felt really good. Even if this was forced. For a moment he could forget that, though, and dedicate himself to getting Rostimira the best orgasm of her life. That should leave her vulnerable to his charm magic. Should.

"How do you like the show, dark elf?" The leader taunted. "I wager you would wish to take our place."

Selene bared her teeth at the rusalka. Her spirits seemed to be rallying admirably. It had strangely helped to realize that she had an escape if things got too bad. Somehow, it made everything seem easier to endure. Made it easier to think. She could die, and it would not change things much... If Caleldir were to die... She let her face fall again, this time completely on purpose. Play the weakling. Let them think they were winning. She was naked, but by some miracle, the evil fey had not taken the circlet from her head. The staff. There had to be something she could do with the staff... she just had to think a little harder, a little longer.

Even with Caleldir's lofty goals, it was impossible to keep himself from cumming. As the unknown rusalka continued to bounce on him, he began to stiffen. Soon, he would orgasm for the second time. How many more there would be before he could escape, he had no idea.

Rostimira's hand balled more tightly into his hair and pressed his face more firmly into her cunt when the other fey's pussy caused him to slow in his ministrations. "Don't stop, you little whore." She growled.

Caleldir forced himself to resume giving Rostimira his best despite the distracting pleasure.

Selene could tell by the look on the leader's face that Caleldir was going all-out on her. The mage could understand why, but it was starting to make her extremely jealous. How dare he actively participate in this! She clenched her teeth. She was not focusing her attention on coming up with a plan. And the painful fondling that had died down for a moment was started anew by the rusalka the leader had called Katia. The pain of it was forcing soft whimpers from the drow's mouth. Caleldir may have been healing right away, but it left marks on Selene that would stay until someone else could heal her.

Finally, with a cry of delight, Rostimira threw back her head in an orgasm just as powerful as Caleldir had wished it to be. Unlike with Selene, though, the sensation made her hair and hands grip at him with almost crushing tightness. And she did not let go while her body spasmed in aftershocks only slightly less powerful than her original climax.

Despite Caleldir's fetish for being forced, he was not really enjoying this. Pleasurable, yes, but the sounds of Selene in distress ruined the experience somewhat. Not that being gangraped by evil fey was an experience that was supposed to be pleasant. By the eternal, his mind was a fucked-up place. Not quite as fucked as his dick, though. Or his face, for that matter. Rostimira did not seem to want to let him breathe, forcing his face up into her even as she spasmed in orgasm. Oh no. Was he to give her a second orgasm? Well, she had not pulled him away, so he would have to keep doing what he was doing. Even if he desperately needed to breathe. He began to try to pull against the hair bindings again, desperate to try to pull her off of him even for a moment. He also tried to pull his face downward. His body was beginning to go slightly translucent again...

Oddly enough, it was around this point that he actively (unconsciously) thrust up into the unknown fey in his second orgasm, every bit as potent as the first.

The leader of the rusalka relaxed her grip when her body relaxed - or, at least, the grip that held his head to her sex. Her hair was ever-tight against his body despite the weakness in the rest of her limbs that her orgasm had caused her. Slowly, shakily, she dismounted his face and sat beside him. The one who had just gotten Caleldir to cum inside her also dismounted with a pleased but exhausted sigh. The both of them looked far more spent than any nymph would be in the same situation.