Drow's Dilemma Ep. 145: Stolen

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 145: Stolen

Tsabdrin rushed up through the Oread-carved passages, using his magic to dress and armor himself as he ran. The closer he got to the surface, the more the earth rumbled and shook.

When he burst out into the open air, he saw the cause. All four of 'his' nymphs were engaged in a fight against a stream of monsters. Manticores, sphinxes, treants, elementals, and various humanoids, all pulled along with strange, jerky movements as if they were marionettes on invisible strings.

But the worst of them all, a sight which sent chills through him, was the Wendigo: a hideous abomination in the shape of a large humanoid with a carnivorous elk-like head and burnt, twisted stump-like legs. It, too, seemed to float in the air moving jerkily, its limbs contorted unnaturally even for its monstrous self.

Phaile was holding her own decently well against the weaker members of the horde, fighting in the ways that Tsabdrin himself had taught her with bow and blade. But the Oreads were doing far, far more. The earth-nymphs moved with shocking speed and overwhelming power. Their leaps into the air had enough force to send shockwaves around them. They were launching punches that shattered stone, performing kicks that smashed craters in the ground, and hurling boulders the size of small hills at the overwhelming force that converged upon them.

Nekaia, however, was tending to a grievously wounded red-haired human with visibly mechanical limbs. Said human attempted to struggle to her feet as he approached.

"Are... are you the one they call Tsabdrin of Duskhaven?" the redheaded human gasped with a voice that came more from machine than breath.

"Y-yes. I've heard about you," Tsabdrin responded. He didn't even try to search his mind for her name; he desperately wanted to fight. The drow resisted the urge only because this woman clearly had something critically important to say.

In the background, an allosaur leaped through the air to tackle a manticore to the ground. Its mate flanked it and together they tore it to pieces. Tsabdrin got the vague sense that his animal companions were enjoying themselves despite the mild terror they felt. He was glad they were confident in the homestead's abilities because he wasn't sure they could handle all this.

The redheaded human let out a long breath and slumped back down so Nekaia could continue treating her wounds. "I'm Cieraela," she stated. "I have a message for Ashyr and Caleldir. Tell them that the Empress of Souls has returned!"

"Who?" asked Nekaia. "I have never heard of her!"

"The succubi will know," Cieraela winced. "Tsabdrin, you have to run, before the Empress sees you! Once she catches the smell of your soul, it is over."

Tsabdrin glanced back at the fighting nymphs, his eyes wild. "I can't just leave them! The Empress of Souls? Is she going to kill them and destroy our lands? My livestock!"

"You cannot beat her," Cieraela said in despair. "None of us can. She is too powerful. Our only hope is to warn the others so they are prepared for her when she arrives. It is too late for your nymphs: she has the scent of their souls."

"Will she hurt them?" he asked again with more intensity. "I was told one of them is pregnant." He glanced over to Nekaia, wondering if she was the one. "I can't leave if I know The Empress will hurt her."

He didn't like the idea of the others getting hurt either but saw the logic in needing to warn Ashyr.

"Who told you one of us was pregnant?" Nekaia asked, her expression oddly neutral for the usually animated Naiad.

"The Empress will take their souls, then puppet their bodies to attack others." Cieraela gestured at the horde of creatures unnaturally jerking around, including the Wendigo that Ornia was currently in a stalemate with. "If you do not run now, she will do the same to you. The rest of us here are already doomed. She already put the Soul Trap on me."

"She did not Soul Trap us!" Nekaia said dubiously.

"No, but she did put a soul trace on the other three," Cieraela said despairingly. "I suppose you could still escape, Nekaia. But the others cannot."

"Oh, no..." Nekaia said, her neutral expression going to dread. "But... but Phaile is..." She looked back to Tsabdrin, confirming his fears.

"Shit," Tsabdrin swore under his breath. He had the irrational urge to stand and join the fray until everything stopped moving. His more rational mind knew that to save his daughter, he had to run away.

"Nekaia, let's go. Ashyr and Caleldir will save your sister and her unborn," Tsabdrin said as he took the young nymph by the hand. "Thank you, Cieraela. We'll carry your message."

"But... but..." Nekaia let out a long breath. "Yes. Yes. We have to run."

Cieraela stood up fully, her mechanical arm transforming into a blade. When she spoke, her voice was even more mechanical. "Biological Override Completed. This unit will distract designated hostile entity: Empress of Souls."

Over on the field, Olyrei had joined Ornia in the wendigo fight, and the two Oreads had punched the creature literal miles into the sky. It seemed to decompose in purple mist.

Then, the ground in front of Tsabdin and Nekaia exploded as a meteor covered in purple flame slammed into the earth, leaving a crater. In the center of the crater stood a twelve-foot-tall purple-skinned succubus in an over-the-top outfit that had more spikes than coverage. She carried a staff with a purple orb on top of it that radiated crushing power.

"I found you," the woman said in a voice as sultry as it was commanding. Cieraela flung herself at the succubus, only for the Empress to stop her dead with a blast from the orb. Cieraela vanished, and the Empress turned once more towards Tsabdrin and Nekaia.

Tsabdrin swore repeatedly under his breath. The allosaurs, who had already disengaged from battle, sprinted past the drow and nymph. Tsabdrin flung Nekaia onto Tooth just before he grabbed onto Nail. He urged the large dinosaurs forward faster than they had gone in their lives, pumping spells of swiftness into them.

A powerful blast of energy soared over Tsabdrin's head, just missing him. Phaile and the Oreads had attacked the Empress, upsetting her aim. But he heard another blast, and Nekaia gasped.

"She got Phaile!" Nekaia cried. Behind them, the Empress shook off the Oreads and started rapidly closing the gap between herself and Tsabdrin's group.

Nekaia gave Tsabdrin a loving smile, all the panic suddenly gone out from her face. "Sorry we couldn't help you," she said. Then leaped off the allosaur and tackled the Empress. The Oreads caught back up, and the ancient succubus was halted in her tracks.

Tsabdrin bared his teeth while tears of anger and frustration made it difficult for him to see clearly. Fortunately, his animal companions had no such issues. Their only focus was on running. All he had to do now was not stop them; they were buffed and they knew where they were going. But it was hard. So very hard.

He dug his face into Nail's scaly neck and forced himself to think about Ashyr. For once, even she could not dominate his thoughts. All he wanted to do was save his nymphs and his homestead. Ashyr. The only way to do that was to find her.

---

The Empress of Souls stood in the wreckage of what had been Tsabdrin's homestead. It had been a hard fight. Much harder than she had expected. Those Oreads... she grinned. Well, those Oreads would be a fine asset to add to her collection.

The ancient succubus looked into the Orb on her staff. She smiled to see the souls of her most recently vanquished foes still pounding at the clear barrier that kept in the vast mist. The two Oreads and two Naiads were now only tiny, semisolid, wispy figures in the undetailed shapes of their nude selves, bearing neither weapon nor spell.

"Your sacrifice was not entirely in vain, brave nymphs," she whispered, though she knew they could not hear her. "Your drow did manage to escape. Not that warning his allies will save him from my Mistress: the great Varyndaevyrress who released me from my prison."

She laughed and tapped the outside of the orb, which sent Phaile and Nekaia's souls deeper into the mist, causing them to vanish. The Oreads kept trying to break out, though. "It is useless, though your strength of will is commendable," the succubus crooned at the souls who could not hear her. "I know. Once inside, you have to be let out. You can try for five thousand years and not be any closer to escaping. At least you have your friends in there. I had to talk to myself all that time! Still do, silly, silly me!"

The Empress of Souls stretched. "Still, I managed to acquire the soul I needed." She took a deep breath, and blew on the orb, finally sending the figures of the Oreads to be lost in the mist. Then, she rubbed her fingers across the orb in a pulling motion, bringing Cieraela's wispy form to the surface of the swirling fog.

Looking down at the cyborg's soul, the Empress giggled. Cieraela floated around on the edge of the mists looking dazed. Instead of a robotic arm, leg, and eye, her spirit form had the horns and wings of a succubus, in addition to the spade-tipped tail she had before. "Oh, dear! It seems that you really are a succubus. You tried so hard not to be! Not that your sexless master will care one way or the other. He will just want you back."

With that, the Empress pulled Cieraela's soul out of the orb, holding her in her hands like a dazed, wispy pixie. Very gently, she inserted her into another, smaller gemstone, where Cierala's figure took on a sharper hue. No longer wispy, she just looked like a tiny, naked, non-cyborg succubus version of herself. Suddenly more cognizant, Cieraela began to pound on the gemstone from the inside, shouting. "Sorry, darling," the Empress said sympathetically. "You can't escape from there either. And I can't hear you any more than you can hear me. But, at least you can see outside!" The Empress giggled again. "There I go again, talking to myself! Time to deliver this soul to Ceuphaera. We have a demigod thief to recruit."

Spreading her wings, the Empress took off, leaving the ruins of Tsabdrin's homestead behind.

---

Once Selene took her leave and the voracious cultists had been at least mostly sated, it was back to the horde of nymphs, who once more were not inclined to introduce or talk about themselves: just to tease and moan and sing. The Dryads were pleasant, though domineering, and seemed to be the ones most fond of tying him in their vines. The Naiads were silly and giggly, while the glum Lampads were gloomy, often breaking out into tears over nothing at all. In contrast, the Oreads were strangely solemn, riding him without much expression on their beautiful faces, though their movements were as gracefully enthusiastic as any of the others. The Nereids seemed playfully sadistic, especially fond of teasing and mockery, though not to the extent of the cruel rusalka. The flowery Anthusae were the most cheery of all of them: speaking only in joyous singing rhyme. The Leimoniads did not seem to be entirely all there, dreamily blowing over him like playful breezes. Then there were the eternally drunken, wine-haired Maenads who made Caleldir grateful for his durability, so rough were their debauched affections.

In comparison to the nymphs - who did not seem inclined to carry on a conversation - the pixies were incessant chatterboxes who asked far too many questions and volunteered excessive detail about themselves.

Althaia showed up again soon and occasionally joined her sisters in fucking him, though mostly she just watched and orgasmed whenever she saw him do so.

Time passed, and eventually, an exhausted Caleldir fell asleep to the cooing songs of the oddly motherly Asteriae who gently floated him along their soft caresses, until he could not even tell which of the kind star-nymphs he was inside at any given time.

Used to having sex while asleep, Caleldir slept peacefully despite the continuing nymphomaniac breeding orgy. He dreamt of the tender Asteriae carrying him through a tranquil ocean of stars.

When he awoke, he found himself on top of a couple of giggling Anthusae holding him tightly with their arms and legs while a pixie with emerald-green hair slowly rode him. Around him, the nymph horde continued their orgy, but at a much more sedate pace. Althaia was nowhere to be seen. The pixie atop him opened her large, green eyes and giggled. "Mistress! He is awake!"

"Finally," came an oddly familiar, extremely deep voice. Caleldir looked to where the sound came from and there sat the strangest nymph he had ever seen. She had a posture of queenly arrogance and control that Althaia could not yet even make a pretense at. Her eyes were closed, framed by very long emerald-green hair that had a sheen somewhere between metallic and jeweled. Several flower-haired Anthusae were laying kisses and caresses up and down her body while she stayed regally still, though her heavy breathing betrayed her intense arousal.

"Uh... I have become pretty decent at telling nymph varieties by sight," Caleldir said, his eyes traveling over her milky-pale body. "But... hmm... was your father a dragon?"

The close-eyed nymph laughed, a sound much more like Mirjana's cruel scorn than it resembled any of the other nymphs. "He was. And so was my mother."

Caleldir blinked, then looked around at all the other nymphs. "You are a full dragon, then."

"Regrettably, she is," a rich voice with a playful but annoyed cadence came from nearby. Caleldir glanced over to see one of the Priestesses of Aelsuna he had not yet had sex with: a copper-haired woman who was floating in lotus position while keeping a suspicious eye on the dragon-nymph. "She is one of those accursed Green Dragons, but Aelsuna told us to let her learn from us. We are 'open to all Seekers of Beauty', even if they are damned chromatics."

"Now, now, Ms. Metallic," the close-eyed woman said, her close-lipped smile a bit too large. "It does not do to be rude."

Caleldir opened his mouth to add to the conversation, but the human-sized pixie stopped his words with a deep kiss.

"Rude or not, I am not going to let some damned Green run around and do what she wants. I can't believe nobody has stopped you yet."

The green dragon's smile stayed. "Oh? Are you going to stop me, Ms. Copper? You are barely a young adult. I was an Ancient Wyrm long before Deusterra collapsed. Your posturing means nothing to me."

The copper dragon sniffed and crossed her arms underneath her trim breasts. "Barely a young adult? I am ninety-eight years old. Practically in the adult category."

"Sure," the green dragon laughed cruelly. "You are very scary, little one. Very scary indeed. Besides, does not your goddess value beauty? Which of us is more... beautiful?" The green dragon pushed up her towering breasts and unleashed a powerful wave of Stunning Beauty.

The copper dragon flinched and said nothing.

Once the pixie managed to wring an orgasm out of him, she stopped kissing him and sat up. Caleldir pulled away as best as he could when held down by the flower-nymphs. "You seem extremely familiar, Lady Green. There is something about your smile..."

The dragoness laughed, and her body changed. She shrunk, her green hair turned white, and her milky skin turned charcoal black. She opened her far too large eyes.

It was Vlondae, of course.

"Varas-Vlondae?!" Caleldir gasped. "You... you are... of course. Obviously." He let out a long breath, rage etched across his features. "You took Ashyr and handed her over to her brothers! You sold me to slavers! You-"

"I go by Varynae now," Varynae waved her hand. "My real name is a bit of a mouthful, after all. Anyway, I do feel bad about Ashyr." She gestured at her pixie, who popped off of Caleldir. "But," Varynae said as she took hold of his cock in her soft, enormously strong hand. "She did rape me out of a misplaced sense of vengeance."

Caleldir started to struggle away from Varynae. "No! Stop this!"

"Yes! Stop!" the copper dragon leaped to her feet and rushed towards Varynae. "He does not consent to you!"

"What does that matter?" Varynae asked dryly. "He is public property here." With that, she took him inside her with a moan of intense pleasure, her too-large eyes fluttering with the sensation. "Damn. I was never into sex until I became a nymph. This is fucking amazing. No wonder everyone was excited to have you."

The copper dragon growled and lunged at Varynae, but her human-sized pixie hit her with a spell that turned the priestess pixie-sized and grabbed her. The young copper dragon squeaked but was powerless to escape.

"Shh..." the pixie said gently. "Do not disturb the mistress..."

"Althaia!" Caleldir called out. "There is a-"

Varynae put her hand over his mouth, shaking her head. "Now, now, don't make a scene. Anyway, I did want to apologize for what happened to Ashyr. I thought her brothers would hold her in the Manor, and she would get rescued soon. I never thought they would be so very stupid as to..." She sighed, biting back a moan. Her overwhelming, smugly self-assured demeanor was in tatters as she gave in to the pleasure. "Anyway," she continued, breathing deeply. "I did want to talk to you. If you can control yourself and not call for Mommy Paladin to rescue you from the mean dragon, I will take off my hand."

Caleldir nodded, and Varynae removed her hand. She rode him slowly, clearly not as used to sex as the nymphs and cultists, or even as naturally sensual as the virgin priestesses.

"You could talk to me without my dick inside you," Caleldir fussed. He had briefly considered putting up more of a fight, but once his initial revulsion was passed he decided it was better to milk the dragon for information, and she certainly seemed a lot less guarded while her pussy was milking him. So... so a real attempt at fighting her could wait.

"Perhaps, but I just had to see for myself what all the nymphs saw in you," Varynae moaned. "Fuck me, I am not sure what it is that makes this feel so good. Why is sex with you so intensely desirable? I do not understand! I need, I need to understand! Is it something about your cock? About your divine aura? Is it simply that so many others desire you and the fact that you are wanted makes having you so much better? Such wonderful mystery!" She let out another long breath.

"Why are you a nymph now, Varas," Caleldir said flatly.

"Abanonda Blackdawn," Varynae shivered. "She woke me up to a new form of perfection: beauty. I have to perfect myself. And what is more perfect than a nymph's beauty? But becoming a nymph has had some side effects I have not yet gotten used to. Mostly..." she increased her speed. "This. I always saw sex as a carnal distraction from Enlightenment. But this feels so, so good... so amazing it is a type of perfection in itself..."

"Or maybe your brain is just pleasure-addled," Caleldir suggested. Abanonda? That filled in a gap.

"Perhaps," Varynae shrugged. "But I need to get used to how amazing everything feels in this form." She leaned forward, wrapping her gently but firmly arms around Caleldir with the strength of an ancient dragon in the soft body of a nymph. "I never used to even like feeling my flesh against another's," she said conspiratorially. "Let alone my scales, which lack feeling. I managed to make this skin even stronger than my scales, and yet everything feels so nice."