A Drow's Dilemma Ep. 87: Dinoryn

Author's Note:

A Drow's Dilemma began as a one-on-one roleplaying project and has been converted into a chapter-by-chapter format for weekly posting with the permission and assistance from my partner. It will contain a considerable amount of sexual themes such as femdom, lesbian, straight, 'reverse' rape, BDSM, group sex, romance, and other themes. The main goal of the story, however, is to tell an epic tale of adventures, gods and goddesses, fae, and nymphomaniacs. This episode and every episode to come will be available for free on Literotica for the foreseeable future. All characters that engage in sexual or suggestive situations are mentally and sexually mature: the human equivalent of 18 for their race.

*****

Episode 87: Dinoryn

The Frehelvi women took a couple hours of respite. They had actually quite thoroughly tired themselves out. To their delight, though, they had found a fairly easy way to keep him under control. Pleasure control. It was what they would have kept using if they intended to keep him for themselves. But, unfortunately, it was far better for them in the long run to sell him.

At one point, one of the drow men from the entryway walked over to the cell with a bundle of dark cloth in his arms. He pushed the cloth -- a set of scratchy robes fit for a slave -- between the bars. "Put these on," the drow ordered. Then he was gone.

Caleldir rose where he had been praying to the Eternal, and put on the robes. Then it time to try to contact R.I.S.A. again. It still wasn't working, it seemed.

A few minutes after that, Felynvaniss appeared flanked by her two disinterested sons. "Get him."

Caleldir was too tired to really get into a fight with the two other men. He did not exactly cooperate, but neither did he try murdering them to get away or some idiotic move of that nature. He gave Felyvaniss a murderous look, making his continued obstinacy towards her plain, but said nothing.

They held him while his collar was removed in favor of a new one. This one was more mundane, but still had a lock that only the Matron could open. The collar had a chain attached to it that hooked on the drow Matron's belt in case Caleldir go any ideas about running away. That, paired with the two males on either side of him, made it very difficult for him to do anything but go along with them. Sbatvyrae was nowhere in sight as the four of them walked back through the main entrance. Quick drowsign passed back and forth between the two men, who were grinning as if they were telling each other something funny. Felynvaniss ignored what was going on between them.

Caleldir wished that he had learned drow sign better so he could tell what the two men were saying. Probably some overly salacious gossip, likely involving him. Quite possibly something unflattering in nature.

Back through the miles of twisting passage toward Duskhaven she led them. This gave Caleldir a thrill of hope; if they went to the city, surely he would be found again! But her destination was not Duskhaven itself. There was a relatively small tunnel on the edge of the massive cavern that held the city. It must have been a main thoroughfare, because it was mostly even and its floor was level. There were a few passers-by in mage's robes who all ignored the Frehelvi and their slave. Through that tunnel - perhaps a couple miles in - they finally reached their destination.

Dinoryn's main building was much larger than any other major noble house in the area. Mostly, that was because it was also a school for the arcane. It circled the outside edge of a moderate-sized cave (compared to the one that housed Duskhaven) with eight huge, intricately decorated windowed pillars that must have each been able to hold several hundred noble residents comfortably. They were nothing compared to the pillar in the center of the back wall. That was easily three times as big as the rest, and its carvings were elegantly colored with pale blues and silvers.

It was a beautiful, fascinating building. Under other circumstances, Caleldir would have loved to have visited this place and see what was to be seen. Not so much right now. He remained surly and not very cooperative, although they would be able to tell that it was a despairing sort of token-resistance more than actual attempts at getting away. He had run the calculations on the chance of a successful escape, after all.

All these pillars overlooked well-manicured gardens and fountains. A dozen or so students meandered through the decorative center of Dinoryn. The slavers and Caleldir made their way through that space towards the main pillar, and they were still mostly ignored by the other drow in the area. As they approached their destination, a tall woman - dressed in flowing robes of the same silver and blue colors of the tower behind her - came out of the huge arched entrance. Her hair was nearly long enough to reach the cavern floor even after half of it was done up in intricate braids. And it was a pale blue to match her robes.

"Felynvaniss. It is good to see you," the woman said in a soft, yet rich voice. Though she looked more happy to see the slave behind the matron of Frehelvi.

"Iiv'lua," Felynvaniss greeted her with a bow and a cocky grin that she couldn't quite keep from her features. "I have brought what you requested. Should you like to retire to your office to inspect him and discuss the details?"

"Yes. Let us go. We cannot stand out here for long; the slave is meant to be a surprise." And so she led them into the building, completely ignoring the grand interior to go down a quick side-passage. It led directly to her office, which was just as richly furnished as one might expect after looking at everything else in the Dinoryn estate.

Caleldir could not help but be struck by Iiv'lua's appearance and manners, but he was still quite full of trepidation about what she had planned for him. His body language indicated that he was standing at the ready for anything.

"So. What have you brought me, Frehelvi?" Iiv'lua asked as she stood in front of her intricately carved wooden desk, facing the three slavers and their charge. "Remove its clothes, that I may see."

Feylnvaniss dipped her head in acceptance. Then, still holding the chain attached to Caleldir's clothing, she paced around until she was behind him. Then her hands circled his body to untie the strip of cloth holding his clothing secure. After, her hands slipped into the fabric to slowly pull it apart and reveal Caleldir's drowish form.

Caleldir did not physically resist, but he did snark. "I may not be as familiar with the standard dialect of Undercommon as I am my native one, but it is my belief that the pronoun you are looking for is 'he' rather than 'it'."

Despite his reference to his archaic dialect, Caleldir suddenly realized that he had neglected to use Blackdawn Undercommon ever since being captured. He had been too frustrated to remember to use it and had just naturally adopted the local dialect.

Regardless of dialect, everyone ignored him. The Matron of Frehelvi answered Iiv'lua's question. "This is a male who hails from the land of Blackdawn, a group of noble drow far removed from our lands. They are said to be skilled in the arcane arts, are as clever as they are beautiful, and have knowledge of the arcane that has been lost to us. This particular specimen is the last of his kind. There will be no Blackdawn to save him, and anything he says to the contrary is lies."

"I would not be so sure of that," he said dubiously. "I do not know if any of the other Blackdawns are left, but neither have I been able to confirm their destruction. It is an open question at this point if anyone will come to save me. But I am going to go with: probably they will."

Feylnvaniss rolled her eyes and scoffed. "He is a bit wild, you see. But has vast potential if only a strong female can harness him. A perfect project for your daughter's century present."

Caleldir remained silent after that. Likely, the drow would not be happy with what he had already said, but regardless of their reaction, there was not that much more to be said. He had been sold to this woman's daughter, the next heir of Dinoryn. Actually, if he was not already fully dedicated to Duskhaven, that could have been a useful thing indeed. If the young Dinoryn girl was in the least amiable or could be persuaded to become so, he could wield powerful influence. If he played his cards right. But, for now, he would simply have to bide his time and wait for a chance to escape or be rescued.

As the other woman spoke, Iiv'lua's eyes roamed across Caleldir's naked flesh. Beautiful indeed. "That seems well worth the price I promised you, Feylnvaniss if all you say is true. I thank you for your promptness. You will receive what I quoted you within a couple of days' time, and I look forward to dealing with you again.

The Fehelvi matron grinned. That was high praise indeed. She felt well on her way with making an alliance with Dinoryn. "Do you need my boys to take him somewhere? You might as well make use of them while they are here."

"Might I?" Iiv'lua asked with a suggestive grin that she also somehow managed to make elegant.

This caused the slaver woman to laugh. "That is not what I meant. But things may be arranged."

"We shall speak further on that matter, I think," the blue-haired woman said with that suggestive light still in her eyes. "But first I should like to bring my daughter's new slave to her room. I have already set a place for him in anticipation for her return from the capital."

And so she led them back through the side passage and towards the teleporter in the center of the entrance to the main pillar. The mage made an elegant gesture, and they were suddenly in front of a small yet ornate door in an enclosed chamber. The Dinoryn woman waved her hand again, and the door opened to a massive set of rooms that covered nearly the entire circumference of one of the smaller pillars. Not that the people unfamiliar with the place would know. The door opened up into a large lounge area that led to a hallway with several doors hiding what was beyond. Iiv'lua raised an elegant arm to the first door on the left. "That will be the slave's chamber. Here. Let me put on the collar I made for this purpose."

That collar, it turned out, was much like the one he was made to wear at the slaver outpost. Except this one began to hurt as soon as Iiv'lua snapped it around his neck. It only stopped hurting after one of the male drow shoved him into the room at Iiv'lua's request. The room was also much like the one he had at the slaver outpost. Expect this one smelled better, had a more comfortable-looking bed, and contained a wash basin and a small set of empty drawers. The door to his 'room' sealed shut firmly. He was alone again. And would be, it turned out, for another couple of hours.

Caleldir was grateful that they shut the doors and left without any interlopers making their way into the bedroom with him. The new collar annoyed him, because it was clear that he was not supposed to leave this room at all, but he could find a way around that given time.

But first, he wanted to wash himself. He still stunk of those two Frehelvi women.

After bathing himself as best as he could in the washbasin, he put his robes back on and sat on the bed, thinking. Thinking turned to sleep soon enough, as it had been an exhausting day. Collapsing, he didn't wake until he heard the door opening.

It was the Matron of Dinoryn again. The profile of a male who looked very much like her was visible before she closed the door behind her. Then she stood and observed him in a quietly dignified manner during the short time it took him to rise from his sleep.

The drow Matron had changed her attire since Caleldir last saw her. The robes she wore were less formal and more practical than the ones she had greeted Frehelvi in. They were still in colors of blue and grey, and hugged her elegant curves from neck to ankle. Only her face and arms were bare. Those did bear a good amount of decoration in the way of jewelry - very likely of the magical sort, given Dinoryn's work with magical enchantment. Her pale blue hair was wrapped in a bun as well as it could be, considering how much of it she had. Some still spilled out around her beautiful noble features in such a way that it still somehow looked refined.

"Stand still in the middle of the room, slave, and remove your robe. I do not want to have to restrain you, but I absolutely can and will if I have to."

Although Caleldir was a bloody stubborn fellow, he was not about to disobey the Dinoryn Matron just yet. She was still fully clothed, and looking rather serious, so she was not likely to be here on a booty call. More likely it was an inspection. So, it would not be a betrayal to comply. So thinking, he bowed just a bit as he moved to the center of the room.

"My name is Caleldir Blackdawn, not 'slave'," he complained. Complying with her order or not, he was not about to give her the impression that he was under control. It probably would have been the more cunning decision to pretend to be broken and then spring his escape, but he had figured out that, things as they were right now, there was a 0.01% chance of escaping on his own. His only hope was to be rescued. So, he had almost nothing to gain from faking compliance. And little acts of resistance, even if they got him into trouble, would at least make him feel better.

"Hmm," Iiv'lua hummed in a non-committal tone. "Could you write a note, my son?" she asked loudly enough to be heard on the other side of the door as she watched Caleldir drop his robes. The sight of him almost instantly made her mouth water, despite the satisfaction she had received from the Frehelvi boys. By all rights, she should have been well-sated by then. But there she was, starting to feel warm in all the right places. "It should read: recommend renaming. Slave cares too much for his name." This was meant to be said with dispassion, but a little of her arousal snuck into her voice. The Matron couldn't help it. He was too damn pretty. Unfortunately, she did not like to 'go where here daughter was, or would be' so to speak. Admiration was all she would allow herself.

"'Cares too much for his name,'" Caleldir said dryly. "Determined to be that way, then? Are you changing my given name or that of my House?" Funny enough, Caleldir was not actually all that attached to his own name. He had several, after all. Goelon, Caleldra, Ashyr... Might as well add a few more. But no need to let her know that. Or maybe he would. "As long as you find something less generic than 'slave', call me what thou wilst. The nature of said name might affect how easy it is to 'tame' me, though."

To non-magical eyes, his skin appeared flawlessly smooth, polished obsidian in hue, completely unmarked. Magical eyes would see very differently.

The Dinoryn Matron could see invisibly tattooed spells all over him. The majority of them were potent seals of various types, several noticeably placed over even more powerful, but subdued spell-tattoos whose purposes could not be guessed at. The last few effects were apparently to make him unscryable. Given that the markings were of the same design as the ones that sealed him, the effects were likely intended to hide him from would-be rescuers rather than to shield him from unfriendly eyes. So, in that way at least, a very clever viewer could deduce that whoever had captured him did think it probable that someone was looking for him. She was careful not to disturb any of it, only to observe. Her hands even ran across his body. They lingered across his ass and his manhood -- a grope or two would certainly not be considered improper. In the end, she decided that there was nothing on him to harm her precious daughter.

He bore the Matron's touches with not much more than a grimace. And an erection, because much as he hated to acknowledge it, he had a natural libido similar to Althaia's.

Curse that mercenary who had forced his Nymph aura out all the time; he could tell that it was having an effect on Iiv'lua. "I see you are looking over the magic on my body. If so, you should probably note that the attraction you are feeling is in large part an illusion, right?" Well, not actually. His ordinary appearance, especially the studiously bland looks that he had been fond of prior to meeting Ashyr, was the actual illusion. His faerie aura was the truth of his appearance. But no need to mention that. "It is simply a magic effect the one who captured me put on my body so they could sell me for more." Now, that was true. Even if the magic effect was to stop him from concealing rather than putting a glamour of attraction on him.

Caleldir sighed. "So, what can I expect here? I will have you know that, when I left Blackdawn to see if I could find a way to reunite with our lost kindred, this sort of treatment is not what I was expecting."

She ignored his words as if they were absolutely no consequence. They were, after all, the words of a slave who obviously wasn't important enough to receive ample protection from his alleged House. If they were truly ready to rejoin the rest of their kind in the Underdark, then they should have known better. Drow society had no use for a House as naïve (or weak) as Blackdawn seemed to be.

"He has passed inspection," Iiv'lua said as she stood up straight once again. "Send for Jhul'une. - ah, but first, we need robes befitting a Dinoryn pleasure slave."

Those robes -- if that was what they could be called - turned out to be soft, muted silver fabric trimmed with a blue so pale it was almost white. It clasped around the neck and hips, but was open to display a large swath of the midsection. The hem was long enough to touch the ground. However, it flared out in such a way that the legs were bare from roughly the mid-thigh down. There were no sleeves, either, so that lithely muscled arms might be bared. Almost something someone from the surface would call feminine, but Iiv'lua certainly seemed to appreciate the aesthetic.

"Put these on, slave," she ordered Caleldir.

"I have a cousin who would love this outfit," he observed wryly. "But on her it would be a mark of power, not servitude." He still put it on without trouble. It was clothes, after all, even if it looked rather girly for his tastes.

"Is the gladiatorial loincloth not in style in this part of the Underdark?" he lamented. If he was going to be paraded around like a sex slave (which he was), he would have at least preferred a more masculine costume.

Still the matron of Dinoryn did not respond to Caleldir's words. His opinions on things didn't matter to her. He had no house here, he was male, and he was a slave. The only way he could have become less important to her was if he wasn't even drow. But he looked and felt convincingly noble drow to her, even if he might have had a heavy helping of fey in him.

Once his robes were on, Iiv'lua stepped back. "Alright. Is Jhul'une almost here?"

"She approaches, Mother. Would you like to go out and meet her?" her son asked politely.

"Yes." And then the both of them stepped out of the room. They closed the door, but did not lock it. Not that Caleldir would be able to get out without being noticed; voices were clearly heard in the main entrance, where there was easy view of his door. The conversation went about as expected for a mother who had a surprise for her daughter and was trying to get her to come see it without letting her know that there was a surprise. "I really think there's something off with the room" and "What have you been doing in there?"

Caleldir waited patiently, more or less, for Jhul'une and her mother to reenter. Given the drow woman's tone as she talked with her mother outside, Caleldir speculated that she would be a better 'mistress' if he behaved and was respectful. 'Better' meaning more likely to do what he wanted her to. Probably. Maybe. Or at least it was possible.