Wrath of the Spider Queen Ch. 01

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.

*****

1

Conquest

"Our soldiers have completed their raid on the old Duskwatch tunnels, mistress. Yet another resistance cell has been annihilated."

Varassa Hu'nate, Matron Mother of Vel'shannar and High Priestess of the Spider Queen, smiled as she brought yet another glass of azure wine to her lips. "Were there any survivors?"

"Several, mistress," Commander Sabal said, his red eyes glimmering with pride as he knelt before her. "My men are holding the prisoners in the Citadel dungeon. They await your—"

"Slaves."

Sabal paused. "Mistress?"

"They are not my 'prisoners,' foolish male. They are my slaves."

"Y-yes, mistress," Sabal stuttered. "I apologize for misspeaking."

Varassa held out her hand, and one of her acolytes immediately rushed over to snatch the empty glass. "My mother would have punished you for such an error, Commander. A tongue that slips, no matter how slightly, cannot be trusted with secrets—and a tongue that cannot be trusted with secrets serves no purpose whatsoever. Wouldn't you agree?"

Sabal flinched ever so slightly. "Yes, mistress. I promise, it will not happen again."

Varassa allowed the uncomfortable silence to linger for several seconds. She wasn't actually going to punish him for such a trivial mistake, of course. One of the former Matron Mother's many failures had been her overreliance on overt brutality rather than the much more subtle nuances of fear. It was one of innumerable reasons Varassa had been able to overthrow the old regime and claim control of Vel'shannar. As long as she castrated a truly disobedient or incompetent male every now and then, the others would serve her faithfully and without question.

Varassa smiled slyly as she glanced about her new throne room. Six months ago, this building had been the seat of power in Highwind, but the artificers and slaves had shaped and molded it into a stronghold worthy of their Matron Mother. From the outside, the Black Palace looked like a giant spider nestled at the heart of the city; from the inside, it looked almost identical to the Spire of Sovereignty in Vel'shannar. The very thought of living on the surface—even for a short time—was utterly repulsive, but her ever-expanding empire needed her leadership. How the pathetic rivvin had ever survived on their own remained a mystery.

She glanced over at the new slaves chained to the chamber's eastern wall. There were nine of them in total, all female and all trembling with dread. Varassa's acolytes had stripped and collared the rivvin before forcing them to their knees in preparation for the Matron Mother's judgment. Some of them had been part of a resistance cell, while others were common thieves. Their male accomplices had been executed on the spot, naturally, but the females would make excellent breeding stock in the harems of her gifted warriors like Sabal.

Assuming he told her what she wanted to hear.

"You needn't worry yourself yet, Commander," Varassa said eventually. "You have served me well, and for that you shall be rewarded."

"Thank you, Matron Mother," Sabal said, the tension slowly draining from his face. "I live to serve you—and through you, the Spider Queen."

"Yes, of course you do," Varassa drawled just enough to express the proper contempt for his presence. "What of the Ranger-General? Did you find her during your raid?"

Sabal nodded. "We did, Matron Mother. The highborn ranger is alive...and unspoiled, as you demanded."

Varassa's smile returned. After all this time, the last prize of Highwind was finally hers for the taking...

"Where is she now?" Varassa asked.

"General Nym wished to drag her through the streets so the rivvin could see her broken and defeated," Sabal said. "He planned to bring her here next. He said you would need time to prepare a proper welcome."

Varassa rubbed her hands together in anticipation. She had been waiting for this day ever since she had first ordered her armies to attack Highwind. The initial siege had ended quite quickly—the bizarre magical cataclysm that had thrown Vel'shannar into chaos a year ago had also left the surface world virtually defenseless. The Duskwatch, the Knights of the Silver Fist, even the Mage's Guild—they had all crumbled in the wake of this "Shattering." Vel'shannar's victory had been swift and total.

Except for one annoying and doggedly persistent darthiir cunt. Serrane Starwind, Highwind's former Ranger-General, had spent the last six months organizing a rebellion against the drow. She had never succeeded, obviously, but she had prevented Varassa from asserting full control...until now. At long last, the highborn bitch had finally been caught.

And Varassa was going to revel in her conquest.

"Bring her to me as soon as General Nym finishes his parade," Varassa said. "I will question her personally."

"Yes, Matron Mother," Sabal said. "Your will shall be done."

He bowed his head, and Varassa let him linger at her feet for almost a minute before she finally gave him permission to stand. "As a reward for your service, you may claim any female you wish," she said, gesturing to the naked rivvil slaves.

Sabal glanced across the room, his red eyes lighting up as he hungrily considered his choices. Several of the thieves whimpered when he strode up to them, but the resistance fighters had more backbone—they averted their eyes and clenched their teeth in a futile attempt to steel themselves for the inevitable. They were all fresh and unbroken, though that would change soon enough.

"This one," Sabal said, squeezing the nipples of a buxom, dark-haired farmgirl. A frightened sob slipped past her lips, thick with despair.

"Very well," Varassa agreed. "You may keep her until moonrise tomorrow, but I expect her to return undamaged."

The commander grinned as he took the girl's leash from the acolytes. Tears were already streaming down her cheeks, but that would only make Sabal want her more.

"Is she ripe?" he asked eagerly.

"Quite. Plant your seed quickly, Commander, and she shall be yours forever."

Sabal's eyes lit up again, and he dragged the girl out of the chamber so quickly she could barely keep up. Her pathetic whimpers echoed off the walls and sent a visible ripple of terror through the remaining slaves.

Varassa chuckled softly as she finally uncrossed her long, leather-sheathed legs. She sauntered across the chamber, her stiletto heels clicking on the black marble floor with every step. She rarely wore her armor indoors anymore; her silken top cradled her breasts but left her stomach and back bare. The mere sight of her flawless gray flesh surely drove her servants wild, as did the sleek sash dangling from her waist and between her legs. It wasn't as though she needed the protection of actual armor—her magic was more powerful than the hardest adamantine breastplate.

"Leave us," she ordered the acolytes. "And summon my Throne Maiden."

"Yes, Matron Mother," the acolytes replied in near unison as they hauled the other slaves out by their collars. Once they were gone, Varassa finally threw back her head and laughed.

Yet again, she had been victorious. Yet again, the Spider Queen had rewarded her loyal service.

A year ago, none of this had seemed possible. Varassa had still been the First Daughter, and the rule of the former Matron Mother had been absolute. But then the Shattering had befallen the Underworld, and every drow priestess had lost their ability to channel the power of the Spider Queen. The infighting had been instant and brutal. Many of the males had rebelled, and some had even joined forces with the slaves. Female sovereignty itself had been challenged, as preposterous as that seemed, and Vel'shannar had almost fallen.

But Varassa had never lost faith. Along with General Nym, she had rallied a large enough force to kill the Matron Mother and subdue the uprising—at which point the Spider Queen's power had miraculously returned. No one understood precisely what had happened, and the Dark Goddess had never revealed why she had only restored magic to a few of her priestesses. Perhaps she remained weakened somehow, or perhaps she was simply rationing her power more carefully.

Whatever the case, only one thing truly mattered: Varassa was now the unquestioned ruler of Vel'shannar, and in time she would be the unquestioned ruler of the surface as well. Highwind would merely be the first of many rivvil settlements to fall. Vorsalos, Silver Falls, even Nelu'Thalas—soon the Spider Queen's armies would crush them all.

Varassa was still contemplating the possibilities when the illusory wall behind her throne shimmered. The spell concealed a secret passage known only to her most trusted advisors, and a moment later, her Throne Maiden materialized from the deep shadows as if she were a specter rather than a flesh-and-blood woman.

"You summoned me, Matron Mother?" she asked, head bowed.

"Yes, I did," Varassa said. "The intelligence you gathered on the Ranger-General's resistance cell proved accurate. Commander Sabal just informed me that his men raided the Duskwatch tunnels and destroyed most of the rebels. You have done well, my precious niskaru cunt."

As always, Solemi beamed at the slightest praise from her mistress. Varassa sometimes found it difficult to believe just how much this half-elven mongrel had changed over the years. When the girl had first been captured, she had been little more than an amusing toy, but now...now she was something else entirely. As Throne Maiden to the Matron Mother, Solemi wielded enormous power over all the other slaves, and if not for the mixed blood polluting her veins, she would have made an excellent priestess herself.

Still, Varassa had slowly grown to appreciate Solemi's niskaru heritage in its own way. Her pale skin and willowy limbs revealed her darthiir corruption, while her curvaceous hips and plump breasts were a testament to her rivvil blood. She was topless most of the time these days, though she wore a diaphanous skirt over her ky'ostal nauvith, the magical harness which protected her quim from all the drow males who wished to ravage it. Her long, slender legs were sheathed in heeled black leather boots, and her shoulder-length blond hair had turned platinum over the years as if the Spider Queen herself were trying to give the girl a taste of true dark elven power.

"I have already rewarded Commander Sabal for his efforts," Varassa said, strutting in front of the girl. "But your prize will be far more glorious: you are going to help me tame the resistance leader herself."

Solemi beamed again, but this time her emerald eyes glimmered sadistically as she imagined the possibilities. She could easily be as brutal as any drow, given the opportunity. Her quim was probably soaked already.

Varassa placed her hand on the girl's cheek. Solemi's eyes fluttered shut at the slightest touch of her mistress, and she nuzzled into Varassa's palm with the shameless desperation of a mewling kitten.

If the prisoner weren't already on her way, I'd fuck my niskaru right now. I haven't been inside her in several days. It's hard to believe how much I already miss her warm lips and velvet folds...

"The Ranger-General will be unlike any challenge you have faced before," Varassa said, clearing her throat and withdrawing her hand. "She is strong and stubborn, and her highborn blood undoubtedly teems with misplaced pride. She will resist...and you and I will break her."

"I am honored, mistress," Solemi breathed, her hands and knees already trembling with excitement. "You will not regret placing your faith in me."

"I know," Varassa said, and meant it. "General Nym will return with my new pet soon, and I want my chamber prepared for their arrival."

Solemi nodded. "Everything will be ready in time, mistress, I swear it."

"Good." Varassa turned and sauntered back to her throne. "The Spider Queen has presented us a chance to break a highborn daughter of Nelu'Thalas. It is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity...and I do not intend to squander it."

***

Unlike the rest of the renovated Black Palace, the Matron Mother's new lair was an entirely new addition. The artificers had magically scooped out a large chunk of rock and stone from beneath the original structure, and hundreds of slaves had labored for months to properly sculpt the rooms and passages to Varassa's liking. In addition to the Matron's Mother parlor and adjoining master bedroom, there were three other chambers in total: one for the Throne Maiden, one for General Nym, and one for whichever slave Varassa currently found the most amusing.

If everything went as planned, Serrane Starwind would be occupying that particular spot for some time...

Varassa grinned as she entered her parlor. The lush purple carpet covering the floor had been spun by the driders just a few weeks earlier, as had the blankets draped across the oversized divan. They were the perfect complement to the master-crafted furniture she had liberated from the nobles of Highwind, especially the oaken shelves that were now filled with her favorite toys and torture devices. The circular walls were festooned with paintings depicting Varassa's conquest of Vel'shannar and of Highwind, and the entire room was bathed in dim, purplish light cast by the single ever-burning torch on the sconce above the divan.

However, the true centerpiece was the onyx statue of the Spider Queen looming up against the eastern wall. This particular effigy depicted the Dark Goddess as a full drow rather than a drider, and her overwhelming beauty was a constant reminder of the true power behind the resurgent Drow Empire. The crystalline scrying orb clutched between her hands allowed Varassa to view locations all across Highwind.

Solemi had already made all the necessary preparations to welcome their new guest. A pillory had been placed at the foot of the divan, and a rack had been assembled next to it. Most importantly, the niskaru had laid out several essential implements for easy access, from phalluses to whips to gags to the pau'tharii collar which had once been used to train the Throne Maiden herself. The collection included everything Varassa would need to break even the strongest-willed slave.

Well, almost everything. General Nym, the most powerful male in the Matron Mother's service, would also play an important role. He would be desperate to breed Varassa's new toy as soon as possible.

"I hope the arrangements are to your liking, Matron Mother," Solemi said, kneeling at the foot of the divan. "I have also prepared the slave quarters for an extended guest, should that be necessary."

"We shall find out soon enough," Varassa said. She leaned over the divan and examined her toys, then slowly traced her fingertip across the enchanted black leather of her latest whip. Her artificers assured her that it could inflict tremendous agony without leaving a single blemish in its wake. A tough, stubborn highborn ranger would make for a perfect test. The Matron Mother's quim tingled when she thought about the delicious darthiir screams echoing off the walls...

She was on the verge of ordering Solemi to kneel and pleasure her when the scrying orb held by the statue suddenly shimmered. Its surface swirled with purple fog for a few moments before it revealed a vision of General Nym and his men entering the plaza surrounding the Black Palace. When they marched up the stairs to the adamantine gate, Varassa finally caught her first glimpse of her new slave.

And the former Ranger-General was every bit as glorious as she had hoped.

Serrane was tall, slender, and pale-skinned like all the so-called highborn of Nelu'Thalas, but her supple, athletic body was a vision of feminine power and perfection. Nym hadn't stripped her just yet; he knew better than to deny his mistress the opportunity. Serrane's leather breastplate was worn and splattered with dried blood, as were her trousers and boots. Her long blond hair was thoroughly disheveled, but she remained defiant despite the gag stuffed in her mouth, the shackles binding her wrists, and the collar clasped around her neck. Her crystal blue eyes blazed with fury, and she snarled every time Nym tugged at her leash.

"She will not be easy to break," Solemi whispered. The niskaru girl's fingers had already begun massaging her quim beneath her diaphanous skirt.

"There is no glory without a suitable challenge," Varassa said. "We shall revel in conquering her."

The Matron Mother slowly uncoiled her whip and cracked it in midair as she waited for her prize. Thankfully, Nym didn't tarry; he left his soldiers on the steps outside while he personally dragged the Ranger-General inside the palace, through its labyrinthine halls, and finally down the stairs to Varassa's lair. He offered his mistress a crisp bow when he arrived, and he jerked the leash forward hard enough that Serrane stumbled and almost fell flat on her face.

"I present to you Serrane Starwind, former Ranger-General of Highwind." Nym said, snickering as he put his hand on the woman's neck and forced her to her knees. "Without her leadership, my men will be able to find and exterminate the last of the resistance cells in a matter of days."

"Well done, General," Varassa said. "Very well done indeed..."

She took a step forward to examine the highborn cunt more closely. Her sinewy limbs, flat stomach, and thick golden mane were even more impressive in person. Varassa was tempted to shear off some of the lustrous locks for her collection, but that, like so many other delights, would just have to wait.

"The entire city is now aware of her defeat," Nym said. "The holdouts will soon lose hope, and your reign will be absolute."

Serrane growled something into her gag, but her words were unintelligible. Nym yanked her collar again nevertheless.

"The Matron Mother did not give you permission to speak, cunt!" he growled.

"No, I most certainly did not," Varassa said coolly. She allowed her whip to drag across the carpet behind her as she slowly circled her new pet. The highborn's wrists were shackled tightly behind her back, and it was tempting to bind her ankles as well. Perhaps later.

"This murderous bitch butchered an entire battalion of my troops during the siege, and she has killed dozens more since," Nym said.

"The survivors are no doubt desperate for vengeance," Varassa mused. "I am tempted to give it to them."

"I would prefer to punish her myself, mistress. She is a sorceress trained by the wardens of Nelu'Thalas. Any children she bears will likely also possess the gift."

"You wish to breed her, then?"

"Yes," Nym said, his red eyes glimmering with lust. "Tonight, if possible."

Serrane's blue eyes widened in horror, and Varassa allowed Nym's threat to linger in the air for several seconds before she bade him to lift the ranger to her feet and hold her steady despite her struggles. Varassa chuckled and placed her gray fingers upon the other woman's toned, pale stomach.

"Hmm...she is quite ripe," Varassa said. "Your seed would almost certainly take root, so long as you plant it within the next few days."

Nym smiled and jerked the leash again. "Then I shall begin immediately."

"Patience, General," Varassa chided. "This cunt may still possess valuable information, and I wish to give her the chance to aid our cause. A highborn slave would make an excellent Throne Maiden, wouldn't you agree?"

"But she deserves punishment! We cannot allow her to—"