The Moon Maiden

"Would you give up your vow to Lolth for such a life?"

Sinala looked at him incredulously but did not immediately respond. Indeed, that very pause gave her reason to stop and think for a moment. Did she genuinely care about Lolth? Did she truly cherish the rise to power that Lolth promised through dedication, sacrifice, and wicked deeds?

She shook her head, unable to answer those questions, and thus answering Calafein's question. "Perhaps we have a chance," he said softly, assuming the conversation was over, and he could try to rest. "Our captors return at nightfall. Dawn is presumably soon, so it is best we rest."

"I don't want to rest," she said. He cracked open an eye and looked at the beautiful, strong drow. She was sitting on her haunches, her pleasant breasts defiant upon her chest, nipples poking through the thin fabric of the tunic she had been given. She was looking straight ahead, but her mind was quite distant, he could tell, so he took his time looking over her body. Her legs were shapely and long, but at present they were bound to the floor. Her bottom was firm and round, and the way she arched her back when she stretched it was alluring, to say the least.

He felt himself stirring and hated the timing.

Then he imagined the powerful priestess, bound to the floor, forced into a position of submission before him, her mouth parted and her eyes looking up at him longingly...

"Calafein," Sinala said, and he realized she had caught on to him. His cock had grown in his pants and was quite apparent. "Why?"

He didn't need to consider the question, or the answer that came out. He had been considering it for days now. "You aren't like the others. I see a kindred spirit in you, one that longs to break free from the chains imposed by the matriarchy of Menzoberranzan and the rule of Lolth. That has made you infinitely more appealing and desirable."

"I am a priestess of Lolth," she said, but there was no conviction in her voice.

"As you say, but I do not think you believe that, not anymore. Perhaps you never truly did, and she thought to sway you fully to her service by granting you greater and greater magic. But you are Sinala, of no House but your own, as I am simply Calafein. We are not like our kind. We are different."

"Yes," she said, a bit breathlessly, for Calafein had risen to his knees, his body nigh hers and his hands on her face. He kissed her then, deeply and passionately, and Sinala nearly wept as she felt decades of indoctrination beginning to unravel, just as he unraveled the passion knotting her loins.

Calafein rose up before her, his manhood directly before her face, and she couldn't help but lick her lips in anticipation. He untied his pants and they fell before him, his hard, chiseled warrior's body bare before her and the pristine obsidian shaft of his manhood bobbed free before her. He stroked her cheek with one hand, and she opened her mouth, taking the head of his cock inside.

He groaned softly as her red irises beamed up at him, locking stares as she slicked him with her saliva and began to take more and more of his shaft into her mouth. The taste was rich, salty and sweet on her tongue, as was his musk. She moaned around him as she swallowed more and more of his shaft, each venture down the length going further and further until she could take no more.

Calafein combed his obsidian hands through her silken white hair as she massaged his cock with her mouth, her hands straining at the restraints binding her wrists to her waist. She was eager to wrap her hands around his shaft, he knew. He could see it in her eyes, previously, the delight she felt when holding his hard cock.

He grinned, knowing how frustrated she must be, and slowly pulled away from her mouth. He leaned down, kissed her lips. She tried to lunge for him, to kiss him back with fervor, but he pulled away yet again, walking around behind her. She watched him with knowing eyes and was already leaning forward. Try as she might, she couldn't keep from dropping her face and shoulders on the hard floor but took consolation in the fact that her round, soft bottom was properly up in the air for Calafein.

He admired the shape and swell of her hips, his hands combing over the flesh, nails raking the soft skin as he knelt behind her. Originally, he meant to simply sheath himself inside her, rutting away until he could fulfill his desire with her body. But he did not, distracted by her beautiful posterior and the inviting cleft amidst it.

He spread her open, strong, skilled hands prying pliant flesh apart, revealing the nexus of her sex and the dark star resting above it, pristine and welcoming. He kissed at the top of her cleft, peppering a slow descent before his tongue danced out along her puckered anus. It was just a quick swirl, but Sinala gasped loudly in response.

Calafein pressed on, his tongue swirling a decadent vortex around her anus. He could feel the muscle relaxing beneath his tongue, and the dark elf pressed his tongue against the hole more firmly. The flesh parted, and Sinala whimpered. Calafein managed to suppress a distracting grin as he swiveled his tongue inside her anus, teasing the tender flesh.

Sinala was straining at her restraints, her tender drow flesh threatening to tear at the binds holding her. Calafein rose up, his hard obsidian cock pressing against her bottom. She wiggled impishly, and Calafein could see in his mind the priestess biting her lower lip in anticipation. He began to press in, feeling how slick Sinala's anus was. It seemed there were some magic tricks that their captors did not deign worth their efforts to counter.

The drow woman moaned in her throat, stretching to accommodate the weapons master as his large cock filled her anus. Calafein gripped her firm hips as they started to lean back into him, squeezing the soft flesh and feeling her supple musculature beneath his sensitive fingertips. The sensation was thrilling. Her asshole was tight around his manhood, groping at his hard flesh as he worked himself in and out. Magical, glinting liquid glistened on his length and around her anus, conjured by the priestess.

Sinala moaned again, spittle dripping from her agape mouth to pool beneath her face on the floor. Calafein began thrusting into her intently, his hips smacking into hers with audible thuds. He could feel the moisture of her vulva spattering on his heavy sack as they collided with each thrust.

Suddenly, Calafein felt a thrill of pleasure rushing through him. He recognized the magic for what it was, but it caught him off guard and was not able to fend off the rush of orgasmic bliss. His sack twitched and his cock convulsed as torrents of magically coaxed seed rushed through him. Calafein's head fell back in uncontrollable bliss, his entire body shuddering as he grunted, gripping Sinala's bottom hard.

Sinala moaned, wiggling her bottom as she enjoyed the rush of warmth flowing into her. She, too, enjoyed the magically conjured orgasm, as it was her own magic that had pushed Calafein over the edge. Her body shivered, her moans musical as she pushed back against the twitching manhood impaling her ass.

"Why?" Calafein asked, still struggling to regain control. "We had only just begun!"

"So you never forget how good I can make you feel," Sinala purred. Calafein withdrew and watched Sinala's asshole slowly close after he left her. He licked his lips then sat back on his haunches.

"I could never," he assured her.

However, Sinala felt doubt that her carnal gifts would sustain Calafein's attachment to her.

More than his companionship and affection, Sinala didn't want to be alone on the surface—or when she returned to Menzoberranzan, if that was to be her fate. She needed Calafein, for now, but she knew Calafein could fend for himself. Moreover, their captors seemed to trust the male, and she feared that they would not trust her.

If she could secure Calafein's loyalty, then the two of them would be a formidable force on the surface wherever their path took them. If that meant the two of them remained continuous lovers, then that was a fortune she would not turn her back on.

She valued his lovemaking, but not more than her life and her safety, both of which would be in jeopardy alone on the surface.

The two drow spent the rest of that evening in relative silence, both of them contemplating their future. The sky in the east had begun to lighten into a steel gray, and pink began to burn at the horizon. Calafein hoped the damning sun wouldn't be too much on his unprotected eyes, and he could sense the panic building in his partner. Sinala was visibly uncomfortable, her hands nearly trembling with uncertainty and agitation.

When the sun finally burst forth, a brilliant orb of scintillating brightness that set the sky ablaze, the two drow huddled close, foreheads touching.

"How will we survive in this world?" Sinala asked.

Calafein didn't know what to say. There was too much uncertainty, yet.

A voice spared him, masculine and strong. "Join the moon-lovers," the man said. Calafein looked over to see a giant of a man, a heavy blade resting on his shoulder. He was all muscle, meat and hair abounding, and his grin was almost playful. "They've been taking in your ilk for years. Drow like you filter in from all over. Either you find a change of heart, or you go east, to wherever the other renegades made a home."

Sinala spat. "Houseless males. Forsaken females. Brigands and cretins of low standing, all. I would sooner die."

The big man let his blade slap across his palm suggestively. "That can be arranged."

"Easy," Calafein said, standing. He was unhindered, unlike Sinala, and interposed himself between the human and the priestess, though the cell they inhabited protected them well enough.

"Ah, I heard about this. Drow females and their pet males, always willing to bleed out so the priestess can go on her wicked way," the man said. "My women would never need hide behind my sword."

"It is not a necessity," Sinala said, "but a mutually beneficial arrangement. I would return the favor, if able, to prolong our existence on this wretched realm."

"That it, Calafein?" the man asked. "A convenient arrangement, for the betterment of both?"

The weapons master glared at the man, but his words cut true. He had felt more toward Sinala than pragmatic gain. He didn't realize his feelings had been so plainly written on his face until the man spoke again.

"Ah, there it is. You two ought to get on the same sheet of parchment," he said, laughing as he strode away.

"What does that mean?" Sinala asked.

Calafein shook his head. "Nothing," he said, more sharply than he had meant. "Let us rest for the day."

They slept for precious few hours before Celise returned for Calafein, flanked by two heavily armored drow warriors with silvered swords in hand and shields on their back. They took Sinala as Calafein walked beside Celise.

"I offer you a choice," Celise said. "Join my ranks, the ranks of Eilistraee, and do good for the goodly peoples of the realms or leave and fend for yourselves in a world unfriendly, at best, to our kind."

"I trade one goddess for another?" Sinala asked. She flinched, expecting reprisal from any of the three drow escorting them to the edge of Bal Sharah. "It is the same life in different clothes. Why would I want that?"

"The alternative is a likely death," Celise said. "Correct, Calafein?"

Calafein looked from Celise to Sinala, then back again. He shook his head. "Sinala and I go together," he said.

"Yet she sees you merely as an instrument for her own survival," Celise said, frowning slightly. "Interesting."

"What is she talking about?" Sinala asked. She sounded as though she were growing agitated. "You know that isn't true."

"Isn't it?" he asked her, stopping the entourage. "'A mutually beneficial arrangement.'"

Sinala would have colored if her skin had not been black as night. "Calafein," she said, stepping toward him. On a nod from Celise, the guards allowed her. "You know that you are more than that. You are not just some male. We have shed blood together countless times. I am one of the few who understands how binding combat is to warriors. Yes, we benefit each other by staying together, but it is more than that."

Celise interrupted. "Decide now," the petite drow said.

Sinala looked to Calafein, and the weapons master grinned at her. "We will take our chances," he said.

Celise scowled, slashed her hand at Sinala and magically severed her bindings. "Go, then, and breach not the boundaries of Bal Sharah again."

With that, the Eilistraeens left them together. Calafein watched the small drow depart, her silver gown flowing behind her. She looked over her shoulder once, and Calafein saw something in her eyes he couldn't quite define.

"She's lovely," Sinala said, sidling up to the weapons master. Victory swelled in her throat, emboldening her. Her hand gripped his bottom. "Perhaps under different circumstances she would have been a fun dalliance for us.

Calafein didn't respond, but the other drow leaned into him, kissing his cheek, then biting his ear. She laughed a throaty laugh, pulling him away from Bal Sharah and into the future.

*****

Celise lashed out in anger when she was alone. Calafein had been chosen by Eilistraee to be her mate. He was meant to be her Moonblade. And he had chosen that slattern! Fuming, Celise grabbed her silver staff, and cool moonlight radiated from its length. It soothed her, and as she closed her eyes and focused on the calming weapon, her anger abated. She licked her lips, doffed her silvery robe, and reclined on the small cot she used as a bed. A small hand slid down her slim, taut abdomen to the silvery white tuft of hair between her thighs. She teased the soft, downy hair for a moment before her small, agile fingers dipped into the cleft.

A hiss of pleasure escaped her dark lips, her mouth parting in the budding bliss. She squeaked a little as her fingertip danced atop her tiny clitoris, biting her lip quickly to dull the sudden, intense pleasure. The drow looked around for a moment, then she firmly shut her eyes and imagined Calafein's nude form hovering over her, hands holding her wrists high above her head as he took her. Her fingers danced on her most sensitive nexus as her imagination created the sensation of the muscular, strong warrior ravishing her, taking her hitherto untouched virginity as she surrendered to his power.

It was a matter of moments before her climax crested, her supple, lithe form arching as taut muscles rippled and relaxed spasmodically. She bit down hard on her lip, and her thighs clenched together as she shivered through the ebbing bliss of her climax.

Celise would not forget about Calafein.