It's Not Black & White Ch. 01

With a roar, he moved forward, hands poised to grab her.

It was easy to whirl beneath the move and deliver a high kick to his temple. He's still standing after that? Impressive. She delivered a second, the man clearly dazed. A third. Supporting herself on the table, she leapt with her legs in the air, caught him by the neck between her legs, rolled and ended atop him, legs firmly clenched around his thick throat. His thick hair and the back of his head was pressed between her naked legs.

He gasped and fought for air.

"No no." She murmured. "You will choke now, slave." She felt a familiar thrill at the prospect, her sex reacting both to the stimulation between her legs from his head and the situation and potential taking of life. She put both hands above his mouth and pressed down, feeling him struggle for breath.

When he was about to pass out, she sighed. No. A gift from mother. It would not do to kill him in the bath. At least, not...yet. Giving it another moment, she let go, disentangling her legs and sliding back on the floor.

"Agk!" He gasped for air and coughed.

Viara rose, and traced a hand along the opening of her slit, trembling faintly at the sexual thrill and wetness she found. Had he been drow, she would have mated with him there and then, perhaps killed him after.

Yet, only a slave.

"Well, slave?"

He turned and regarded her. His eyes were bloodshot and he had a few more bruises added to the older ones. "Aren't...you going...to kill me?"

"Mistress." She added sternly. "No. Not today. Do you see why i do not fear you?

He swallowed, then inclined his head. "You are...quick." He admitted. "Mistress. Very quick."

"Faster than most, slave." She grinned. "Unlike my sisters, I am no priestess or book-reading mage. I train as a warrior -- though not with the weapons I expect you know. Other, smaller weapons. And speed." She waved at him. "Stand."

He stood slowly, though he still trembled and supported himself against the wall

"You should thank me for not taking your life, slave."

Haern swallowed. "I...thank you, mistress."

Annoyance flashed, but she pushed it down. He likely doesn't know. "Kneel." She motioned in front of her.

Only brief hesitation before he knelt.

She lifted her left foot. "You may kiss my foot in gratitude, slave."

His eyes shot up, meeting hers in wide outrage.

"What? You think I jest? Thank me -- or perhaps I will reconsider letting you live!"

It was another moment before he leaned down and planted a kiss atop her slim foot.

She revelled in the power and thrill. For a moment, the mix of still-present sexual desire and the battle had her wanting to order him to perform with his tongue, perhaps his fingers. Rivvil male slave. Instead, she gave his chin a firm push after a few more moments. "Good. Now -- you may wash my back and shoulders as I bathe -- carefully." She added the last part as she climbed back into the pool.

He regarded her coldly before taking the sponge.

Viara leaned back in the tub and let him wash her. It was clear he was as untrained as she'd feared. His hands moved with amateurish attention, as though he was scrubbing grime from a peasant, as opposed to allowing a drow noble-born to luxuriate in a bath. When he lifted her arm as though he was washing a beast, she raised her free hand. "Stop, slave. Lolth, you truly are abhorrent at this."

Haern looked mutely at her.

She turned, half-rising in the pool. "You are servicing and making certain a drow noble is relaxing, at ease, and feeling her station -- not cleaning fleas and filth off one of your deranged, Rivvil spawn. Hold out your hand. With the sponge. Good. Now dip it in the oil there -- just a few drops. Here. On my shoulder."

He moved the sponge and began wiping.

"Slower." She instructed. "Move in circles." She exhaled, shaking her head. "Is this how you washed your companion? Criminal." She murmured. "There. Better. Use more force -- not that much. Just a little. The oil should be brought into the skin, but without crushing the sponge against the skin." She exhaled. "We drow are...apt at living life to the fullest. In every way. Move the sponge. That is enough." She turned, lifting her elbows on the edge of the pool and indicated her arms with her head. "Now the arms, and my chest."

He began working her arms with the oily sponge.

She exhaled in enjoyment. It was always more pleasurable when a slave used the sponge. Only when he was still wiping her arms after a few minutes did she watch him. "Well enough. Now my chest, slave."

He held the sponge and swallowed, at least not averting his eyes from her naked breasts, neck and stomach. "You are not massaging me, slave -- and even if you were, that would be your duty as well." She made her voice cold "You think me ugly, slave?" Her undertone indicated what she would do.

He shook his head. "No. Mistress."

"So wash."

He washed.

After a few moments, she sighed. Always a better sensation and relaxing when someone serviced her -- even a slave. She allowed him to rub the oil into her breasts, her stomach and her torso below her neck. When her fingers brushed her nipples, she felt her sex react and ground her teeth. It had been a moon's turn since she'd taken a male into her bed. She'd met her peers a few times, but what they did with one another could hardly be called a substitute, though it was pleasing dalliances with a power component -- especially with Xelara, who's temper in that regard matched her own.

"Well enough" She waved him away at last, her body awash in the sensation of relaxation mingled with sexual thrill, her nerves on edge and her nipples stiff as she looked down at herself. She noted the male glancing at her, noticed also the bulge between his legs and smiled to herself. Her sister might have castrated a human at such a reaction simply to teach him a lesson. For her, she found it amusing.

"I guess you do not find me ugly at all then, hm?" She murmured, not really expecting an answer.

"I...it is only a reaction. I apologize, mistress".

She turned her head and watched him. "Tell me something, slave. Do you surfacers truly spend your time in shame over your nakedness?"

He pursed his lips. "We do not...walk around in the nude. Or...see one another as such, unless married."

"So how do your males - you - learn to please and perform?"

"With our companions."

It was her turn to frown. That would mean they come...unskilled? Surely not. Yet watching him and how he'd reacted to her, she could believe it. "Every drow male learns to please at a proper age." She rose and held out both hands to her sides. "Else he might offend his betters. Towel."

He did not answer, and looked part-thoughtful, part-horrified.

"Towel, slave!" She barked.

"...Yes, mistress." He quickly retrieved the fluffy, cream-colored cloth and handed it to her.

She looked at him, and her expression must have been something different. "You are my slave. Towel my body dry." She enunciated as though explaining something to an infant who had not yet learned to levitate.

Haern actually flushed slightly and began wordlessly wiping the water and oil from her skin, moving from her shoulders down to her feet.

"Do not miss any areas." She reminded him, when he circled around her stomach and sex as though the touch would spark a flame in the cloth.

He hesitated, then began drying and rubbing with perhaps more force than was strictly necessary.

She gave a pleased noise and reached down, pinching one nipple, then the other and shivered slightly. I really need to see if one of the soldiers will serve as a servant, at least at times.

When dry, she moved out into the main chamber and motioned him to follow. "I have no further need of you this night. You will go to your room. I will call on you when i want your services."

Haern looked at her soberly and bowed his head. "Yes...mistress. I see." He turned and, seemingly almost like an afterthought, he said "Good night."

Viara frowned. Good what? Good night? She glanced at his back. Some sort of Rivvil saying? Of course the night was good. Why say it? She almost opened her mouth to ask, but then decided against further wasting of time with a slave.

She dressed in her sheer nightgown and climbed into the large, circular bed overlooking the sleeping portion of her chambers. The pillows were stuffed with Diatryma down, and the blanket was as soft and smooth as water against her skin. Her bed, with her doors locked and slave locked in, was one of the few times in her existence when she allowed herself to...relax somewhat, and feel perhaps slightly safe.

Her fingers traced down between her legs. Watch me, Lolth. Look at your daughter. She was no priestess, but took enjoyment in what she considered to be intimate communication with her deity.

With sudden force, she drove two fingers inside herself, curling them. Her eyes shot open at the mixture of pain and pleasure, and she bit her lower lip.

Oh... Needlessly, for certainly Lolth could see her through the thin fabric of sheets, she pushed back the blanket and spread her legs, raising her lower body from the bed as though her goddess was truly watching from above. Witness me, beloved goddess.

She began teasing, then slowly thrusting her fingers to ever-increasing sensations of wetness and ease as her body lubricated. "Hnnn!" She murmured, shuddering. Her friends were always amused at how loud she could be.

"Well, spiders take you." she murmured, her eyes closed. Sometimes with her eyes closed, in the throes of passion, she would swear she could feel the attention of Lolth itself - though, after the fact, her rational mind explained it through the powerful waves of orgasm.

"Harder..." Obeying herself, she increased the pace and tried thrusting deeper, clenching her eyes closed as it hurt. "It... hurts..." She murmured, her other hand coming to her chest, quickly taking one nipple between two fingers and twisting it. "Ah! So good! More!" She exclaimed, shivering, and feeling her cunt grow wetter still.

"Oh, goddess...I want it. I do this for you. Witness me, watch me. See me. Lady of spiders, I am yours. Mother...of...lusts, bless me. I will...do...anything."

So, it went. The ritual was one she indulged in often. Viara found it eased the worries and stresses of the day, as well as allowing her to focus. And while she knew the folds of her body and sex, the sensitive spots on her body intimately, she found it hard to reach a peak that night.

Several times her hips rose, her sex pushing higher with yearning, as though release lay at the ceiling, pushing and fucking herself with abandonment, only to fall back down, panting and shiny with sweat, yet without having reached a climax.

Finally, she growled, bit her lip, and extricated her fingers from her sex, punching and kicking the soft bed with both her fists and feet.

Vith'os! Vith'ir! Darkness take you! Damnation and demonspawn...She panted, going through the list of curses in her mind. She was still soaked, her fingers shiny with juices and her body slick, but she did not believe she could reach her peak this night.

Sighing, she enveloped her two long fingers in her mouth, suckling them clean and tasting her slightly sweet juices. She held her saliva-slick fingers in front of her face, stretching and curling them. Such a waste. Demon Queen, I am ready. Why do you not release me? I am yours.

"Not listening tonight...." She muttered the unholy thought aloud, then swallowed. Lolth was always listening.

Well, maybe tomorrow. She reached to draw the blanket back up, then paused as her eyes fell on the door to the slave's room.

Unless...He's a slave, but he's, my slave. No one would know. Except for Lolth. A lowly male - he can be used. Subjugated. It would be no different than having him wash me, or dry me. A service as any other, surely. She could almost hear the jeers from her peers - though Lin'set might get amusement out of it. She always spoke of outlandish and perverse fantasies even Viara's friends thought odd.

Just a slave.

Viara rose and opened the slave's door. Instead of finding him asleep, he stood near the opening closed with iron bars overlooking the Deepmere lake outside their residence. By his look at her, he had been doing or thinking of something. Don't care. I want this. I want it now. Now!

"Come, slave. I have a task for you." her voice came out ragged. She didn't wait to see if he followed, but walked back to her bed and lay on her back. "Here." She indicated in front of her, by the feet of the large piece of furniture.

With a guarded look, he approached and knelt slowly by the bed, seeming to take great care not to stare, despite the difficulty it must have posed since she lay down with her legs pulled up, her sex exposed and in the nude.

"You said you had a companion. Service me, slave. Your tongue, only. I have no wish for your dirty fingers upon my skin." When he didn't begin, she looked down at him, frowning. "Slave? I do not want to repeat myself."

"Your...feet, mistress?"

Viara sat up and growled. "No! Not my feet, you ignorant plebian!" She reached and grabbed his hair, forcing his head closer and pulling hard when he resisted. "Here!" She breathed, feeling excitement when his warm breath fell across her sex. "Here! You will service me."

The stare he gave her was one of disgust and affront before he seemed to remember himself.

"You will-..." He is new. He has never...do not kill him.... goddess. Lolth. She struck him - not hard, and with the back of her hand, but a blow that got his attention - and gave his cheek a red mark.

"You are my slave! It is your duty. Many slaves would beg for his boon, to be allowed to serve his mistress in such a fashion. You are being given an honour, you ignorant..." She longed to plant a knife in his eye. Her desire to hurt him, make him bleed, for a moment warred with her primal desire for an orgasm, the two feeding off one another.

"So, find one of them." And there was even chill in his voice.

"-Find-.... I am your mistress. You are my slave. You will do it, or I will-" She took one of her daggers from her nightstand and put it against his neck. "Ask me to be allowed to serve. Or...or I will kill you. Here. Now." The absolute cold in her voice was hard to believe, given the blood pounding between her legs. Something in her eyes must have made him realize the situation. She could see his throat move.

"I... please let me serve, mistress."

"No. More."

"I will...be of good service, mistress. Please."

"No."

"I am your slave. I can serve you well."

"MORE, filth!" Her shout rang out against the warded walls of her chamber.

"Mistress...you are beautiful. Glorious. An obsidian-skinned goddess. I am only your servant, your humble slave, fulfilling your needs. Please..." he moved forward, pressing himself against the knife even as she slowly drew it back. He planted a kiss below her pubic mound, just at the lower end of her stomach, soft, touching her skin with tongue. "Let me..."

She inhaled shakily, then withdrew the dagger from his neck, and put the tip to the back of his skull. "Very well. You may.." She inched closer to the edge of the bed, sitting up with her legs spread and with his head between her legs. "Show me." Yes...like that. He can speak properly when he tries.

"Nn..." Viara managed to mute a whimper when his unfamiliar tongue touched her cunt, slowly exploring. The novelty, the thickness, and the texture of his tongue, both rougher and larger than what she was used to, weighed up for the obvious inexperience he had for the task. Slowly, she wrapped her thighs around his neck and head, keeping him in place and putting her free hand in his hair, gripping a fistful of it.

He said something muted and unintelligible, his face pressed against her sex.

"Don't...talk, slave. You're serving your mistress. Until I am pleased, focus...on your...ah.... task." The combined stimulation of his breath and his tongue was pleasant. The feeling of his stubble was something else as well, and she found it thrilled her.

She felt her sex reacting, moist and warm, and leaned back a little. "More...use your tongue, Rivvil. Push it in... between. Find my pleasure. I want.... ah!" He'd stuck his tongue inside her, and he really did have a large tongue compared to what she'd experienced before! She shuddered, her fingernails scraping his scalp. Oh Lolth...much better than my fingers. Rivvil...scum. Serve your mistress. Lolth, see me use this worthless male...

Inexperience was the name of the act, however. It was obvious he'd never done the like, or if he had, his companion hadn't told him what a poor job he'd done.

A wet sound came from between her legs, and she realized he'd again kissed her sex - something she wasn't used to or knew how to react to. Viara shivered. So...large a tongue. Oh yes. She looked down at his head, gently grinding her own lower body against his face. She shifted, making certain that her pearl of Lolth touched his upper lip as he move, and resisted the urge to arch her back the first time it did.

Oh, Lolth, yes!

For minutes, she allowed him to use her tongue as such, then pulled back slightly. "You do not know much, slave..." her voice was strained and ragged, and she could feel sweat pearling her forehead. She wanted more. Viara spread her sex open with fingers and tapped the back of his head. "Close, now. And lick my sex with your tongue. As the beast you are, Rivvil. Lick me." The instruction excited her, and she bit her lower lip in anticipation when he moved forward.

"nnNN!" The sensation was even better than she'd expected - base, constant and unfamiliar in the raw and crude manner in which he did it. Her hands rose on their own volition, clutching the back of his head. "No... stopping. Keep going. Lick me. Taste me, slave. Taste...your...mistress...oh, Lolth!" She exclaimed as a sudden warmth spread along her spine. Her muscles tensed, her arms clutched and she realized she was already about to reach her peak. "I..." She moaned, before realizing her partner was not one of her peers or another drow. She slapped the back of the slave's head, and suddenly the tension throughout her body released. She exhaled with a shudder, pleasure radiating from her sex and thrilling every nerve down to the tips of her toes.

Viara was aware of herself shuddering, grinding her wet slit against his tongue for what seemed a full minute but certainly was not more than half.

"Ah...." her shivers subsided and she fell back on the bed, her chest heaving with heavy panting. Lolth...I have...that was...damnation and demons... She tried to focus her mind and found it harder than expected. A -slave- caused that. A damned slave! She realized that he was still far too close to her, and brought up her foot to kick him.

"Mff!"

"Move, slave! You are done." Her voice was raw. What of...another? Her sex tingled at the prospect of another round, perhaps this time with combined fingers and tongue, but she pressed it down mercilessly. One debasement with a slave is enough.

He grunted. "You could have warned me."

She doubted she'd been supposed to hear that - he was speaking softly - yet she'd heard, and glancing down at him, his face was slick with her fluids. Suddenly both ashamed and enraged - ashamed that the slave had seen her as such, enraged that he dared to speak to her like that after she deigned to offer him the honor of serving her.

"You do not speak to me like that, slave!" She barked, sitting up and rising from the bed. Her legs shook in post-peak unsteadiness and she gripped the edge of the bed. With a push of her foot, she forced him down onto his back, though she suspected his own leaning back had more to do with it than the force of her weakened, trembling leg. She put her foot to his neck and pressed down.