A Drow's Dilemma Ep. 86: Frehelvi

Despite his fed-up annoyance at constantly finding himself in situations like this, the woman's fondling was enough for his loincloth to begin to tent just a bit.

"You underestimate me if you think that it would just take a week," he said through gritted teeth. "We Blackdawn males are not the spineless, nigh castrated cravens you have in the rest of the Underdark." Heh. It was slightly amusing, but he was just about quoting (in spirit at least...) the heroine from a story that he had read about a warrior woman from an egalitarian tribe captured by some overly patriarchal dystopia that tried to break her warrior spirit and turn her into a housewife. He had liked her, but he had never thought to find himself in her situation...

"Really?" Sbatvyrae asked with that mocking, light tone.

"We've had females break in less than that. The ones who fancy themselves the strongest are usually the first to falter," Felyvanriss explained with a feral, excited grin.

"Maybe we should keep him to ourselves, sister. Dinoryn would just waste the opportunity." The younger drow suggested, this time sounding a bit more serious than she had been before.

The matron actually seemed to consider it. Her sister was right. It was such a delightful chance to see how far the proud male could fall. She pressed her body more closely into Caleldir's, her expression reflecting the temptation and lust she felt. Perhaps she would defer the decision until after she'd been sated. Maybe then her head would clear. Until then, let him sweat about the very real risk of staying with the career slavers instead of the bookworms and magic lovers.

Several more taunts sprang to Caleldir's lips but, somehow, he restrained himself. Of course he felt an overwhelming urge to mouth off, to declare his resistance, to promise vengeance, to mock something about them... But he was at least wise enough not to dig himself that big of a hole, to make that large of a fool of himself. After all, these slavers liked his demeanor. They seemed to enjoy the proffered challenge.

Enough to seriously discuss keeping him.

Caleldir did not want to give them the satisfaction of seeing him look worried about that, but he actually was. If he was bought by House Dinoryn, he could make himself useful using his best asset: his knowledge. And the access to magic would allow him to figure out a way of breaking the seals currently on him. The slavers just wanted him to break him, which would not be fun to go through. Also they seemed too cunning to allow him to get away.

"And here I thought that you like money," he said dryly. "I gathered that House Dinoryn was going to pay some shamefully large sum for me. Not that I know much about them, being new to this area. For all I know I could prefer you to them. But really I would prefer having all these seals on my magic removed. If I had my spells, you two could not hope to overcome me." Seriously. Also, so much for keeping his mouth shut.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you're quite the powerful magic user. But you don't have access to those spells, do you?" A cruel smile spread across the Matron's face. "And you may never again, if Dinoryn is smart."

Felyvanriss' hand closed around the fabric of his hips and yanked it down to reveal his steadily developing erection. There was one way we was just as weak as all the other males she'd taken. It didn't take much for him to be hard and ready for her. The Matron knelt down in order to remove the last garment entirely. While her face was down there, she flicked her tongue out to taste, and to revel in his helplessness to stop her.

Caleldir kept the erotic pleasure from his face (barely), not wanting her to see the effect that she was having on him, but he knew that to be a useles effort.

"Bring him over to the bed and sit down. Keep him from moving," the older drow ordered.

"Are not you two overdressed?" Caleldir said sarcastically as he was dragged to the bed. "I heard a rumor that House Frehelvi practiced nudism. So why all the clothing?" His tone was a dry, bitter one. He struggled a bit, but he really was not that strong without his magic.

The Matron followed the other two to the bed with that same hungry look that had been in her eye ever since she noticed Caleldir's aura of irresistible beauty. When they were seated, her greedy hands were on him again, exploring every inch of his helpless body while her little sister held him still.

"Nudists, you say? That is an interesting rumor," the older drow muttered distractedly. She seemed used to such talk about her and her house. Then she processed his words a little bit better, and drew some interesting conclusions "You just want to see us in the flesh," Felynvaniss accused. Then she smirked. "Well. That is the one and only wish you will be granted tonight. At least in my case. My sister has her hands full"

Not that Sbatvyrae was complaining. She was getting her own enjoyment from holding the new slave and watching him be forced to do things that he didn't want to do. The younger drow would get her sloppy seconds later, when the Matron fucked a little bit of energy out of him.

"Yes. I just want to see you naked. That is exactly my motivation," Caleldir said with deep sarcasm. "After all, I was not sure that I would get that pleasure. I thought that you just stripped me to slap me around a little, or something." Caleldir did not like being slapped, it hurt, after all, and he was not fond of pain, but he was extremely durable all the same. If they were just going to beat him up, he would not be all that inconvenienced. But he knew that they had other goals. He was just being petulant, really.

The Matron began to strip out of her armor to slowly reveal a body easily as lithe and fit as Ashyr's. This proud drow, however, had neither scar nor blemish to mar her perfect obsidian skin. While she undressed, she watched him mockingly. She even made a couple of teasing gestures - a squeeze of her breast there, and a little unnecessarily deep bending there, all to see how he would react.

Because there was not much else for him to do, Caleldir struggled a bit more to pull out from Sbatvyrae's hold, but obviously had no success. She had too good a grip on him, even keeping his hands and arms in place so he could not try to reverse the hold. It was infuriating. Huh. He was far more angry and resentful than aroused. Perhaps he was over that unfortunate fetish Selene had given him?

Watching Felyvaniss strip, his eyes went wide for a moment and he looked away. But that brief moment was enough to cause his cock to harden perceptibly more, and even begin to leak a bit of precum. Drat. Apparently his body still did not mind this sort of thing. He wanted to look away, but the woman behind him forced him to stare.

Finally, the Matron approached, and her little sister moved to give the older drow room to straddle Caleldir. "I know you want this, boy," she taunted. "A male like you can't resist a strong female like me. Even if you don't like to admit it, you know it's true." Felynvaniss was clearly reveling in the power she had over him. It was quite possible the words were more for her benefit than his.

Caleldir visibly flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "I obviously may not be able to resist you physically or biologically, but I can very much resist you mentally." Even as he said this, Caleldir knew that he was being rather idiotic. That sort of pointless, harmless defiance in the face of her obvious power was probably exactly what she wanted.

Felynvaniss' pearly white teeth flashed against her obsidian skin. She was really starting to get irritated at his tone of voice. She had seen his body's reaction to her bared flesh. She knew he was giving in to her. He was probably even giving in mentally, knowing males like him. He simply didn't know it yet. And still he wanted to defy her. She knew what to do with defiant slaves. Her hand rose and she gave him a firm back-hand against the jaw. The older drow put enough strength in it to send a male about Caleldir's size and shape stumbling to the ground. But her younger sister was holding him too tightly for that. Which meant that her strike would probably hurt even more. That was what Felynvaniss intended, anyway.

Caleldir visibly flinched from Felyvaniss's blow. That was actually really painful. Although, if the Matron was observant, she would note that her strike did not leave a bruise or any other marking. It stung, then was gone. Obviously her palm was not made from Cold Iron. Which was good, of course, since being hit by someone with a hand made of Cold Iron would be even more incredibly painful.

All the same, Caleldir was not one to stay silent. "See? That is more what I was expecting," he said. "Be careful though, damaging me too very much will lower my market value, I would think. More money for an unbruised specimen."

"Shut up, whore," the younger drow hissed into Caleldir's ear. She forced him to lean back to allow for the other female to mount him more easily.

Meanwhile, the older drow reached down between her legs to grab Caleldir's cock. She deftly guided it into her already dripping core -- though she first rubbed it against her entrance to spread that lubricating precum. Then, finally, she began to engulf him. She savored every centimeter that slid so easily inside her until she was sitting fully on his lap with her pussy completely surrounding his manhood.

Despite himself, Caleldir could not stop one of those telling ragged sighs of his from escaping his lips. Fuck, she felt good. Why was he resisting this again? Oh, yeah, because he was trying to stay faithful to a different drow. And he really did not want to risk getting this bitch pregnant.

She grabbed his face again, and force him to look into her hateful red eyes. "Come inside me, and I'll make you regret it for the rest of your life," she threatened. Perhaps it was foolish to trust such a thing with a slave. But Felynvaniss enjoyed the danger just as much as she loved punishing errant slaves.

Caleldir's blue eyes blazed back. "You would have to force me to cum inside you," he hissed. "I do not want to risk a daughter of mine growing up as a Frehelvi."

Probably the wrong thing to say.

At this rate, Felyvaniss was going to ride him with a permanent snarl on her face. This male was irritating beyond reason. She was also becoming concerned that she would lose her temper and do something more permanent than was wise. For all her taunts and threats, this son of Blackdawn was important to deliver to Dinoryn in one piece. Frehelvi would only benefit from good relations with the magically powerful Dinoryn. Any House that knew anything about the world and politics would think the same.

"Shut him up," the Matron hissed.

Sbatvyrae grunted in acknowledgement. Then, with a bit of effort, she transferred his hands into one of her strong arms. Her other hand closed over the slave's mouth and held his head tight against her shoulder to prevent him from struggling too much. The older drow as on top of him anyway; it would be difficult for him to worm free.

He still glared as much as he could at Felyvaniss, although as she brought him closer to orgasm he found it hard to keep the pleasure off of his face. Felyvaniss choking him moderated that somewhat.

At least Caleldir could take some comfort in the fact that he was annoying enough to Felyvaniss that she felt the need to stop him from talking. Just annoying enough that she seemed to have stopped considering keeping him, and apparently had decided instead to just sell him to Dinoryn, which was where Caleldir was certain that he would rather be.

After this, Felyvaniss used her strong thighs to aggressively slam herself down on his cock again and again. She braced herself with a hand against his throat -- not squeezing hard enough to choke, but definitely threatening to. That complete control seemed to arouse her enough that it didn't take long for her motions to grow erratic and her core to ripple around his cock. A couple more lazy rolls of her hips, and she dismounted Caleldir entirely.

His fear that she would ride him until he could no longer resist climaxing, then punish him for climaxing, proved unfounded. She got off right after she got off. Then Sbatvyrae got on. And repeat. Too many times. It started to get more than a little maddening, actually, as they refused to allow him to ever actually get to orgasm. He was far too stubborn to admit that he actually wanted them to let him cum, that was a weakness he refused to admit even to himself that he had, but after a few hours of that sort of treatment he was too run-down and desperate to put up a fight anymore. He still did not participate, but neither did he overtly resist or mouth off, more passive resistance.

When they were done, they left him alone in his cell with nothing to clothe himself with but the tattered pieces of his clothing strewn about the cell. The Matron promised that they would be back to collect him after the Dinoryn had been contacted and a brief respite.

He felt frustrated. His clothes were useless now, his dick was still throbbing with mad, unfulfilled desire, the fight in him was mostly gone, and he did not feel at all confident about his future. He put on what of his clothes he could salvage (not much more than a loincloth), thought about masturbating, decided not to because he did not want to give those two whores the satisfaction, and flopped out exhausted on the bed. Part of him was glad to have successfully avoided cumming to yet another set of women. Another part regretted annoying them so much they refused to give him release. If the same thing happened again, well, he might not be quite so cutting in his remarks.

Naught for it now but to wait, though.