by Sarah Hawke
Yet she still held out. Serrane’s face went red as her lungs begged for air, and for a long moment, Varassa wondered if the stubborn bitch would actually suffocate rather than submit. But then her lips suddenly opened, and the Matron Mother plunged the full length of her cock down the highborn’s throat. It was every bit as warm, soft, and tight as a rivvil cunt.
“Yes, there you go,” Varassa cooed. “Swallow your pride…and your destiny.”
She held her cock in place for several more seconds before she finally signaled for Solemi to let go. Serrane sucked in as much air as she could through her nose even as her throat bulged with Varassa’s rigid member.
The Matron Mother only granted the highborn a moment of reprieve before she pushed the phallus in deeper and deeper. The highborn was obviously more experienced than she let on; she quickly relaxed her throat so she didn’t gag, though her helpless gurgles only spurred Varassa to push harder. After grabbing a thick handful of blond hair, she pounded the phallus in and out, in and out, in and out…
“Phraktos, dos phuul ji sseren,” she breathed, reveling in the glory of her conquest. As much as she enjoyed fucking the fresh, unspoiled cunts of her new slaves, there had always been something special about forcing her stem down the throats of her subjects. It was the purest expression of power.
And power was the ultimate offering to the Spider Queen.
Varassa grinned as she felt a climax approaching. Solemi had already crawled back between the highborn’s legs to feast upon her quim, and the sight of the Throne Maiden’s glistening chin was more than enough to push the Matron Mother over the edge. She yanked on Serrane’s hair as she thrust one final time—
“Ultrinnan!” Varassa shouted as she pulled out at the last instant. The magical phallus erupted, spraying Serrane’s face with a thick, viscous volley of searing seed. She barely managed to close her blue eyes before the Matron Mother’s bounty splattered her forehead, nose, and cheeks. By the time the cock was spent, several gooey strands were dangling from the highborn’s chin.
Varassa expected her slave to spit and scowl, but she couldn’t—her body was too busy convulsing from her own climax. The highborn tried and failed to muffle her pitiful whimpers, which made their sweet sound all the more glorious. She may have been stubborn, but she was also clearly a slut. Her inevitable fall would be magnificent indeed.
“Llieh,” Varassa breathed, marveling at how drained she felt after the phallus spent. She beseeched the Spider Queen for a blessing of vigor, and a restoring surge of energy immediately washed over her.
“May I take her now, mistress?” Solemi asked from her knees, her lips and chin still glistening with highborn nectar.
“Patience, my pet,” Varassa said, scooping a strand of seed from Serrane’s cheek and smearing it into her long golden locks. “She must first learn to wear the mark of the Spider Queen with pride, just as you did. As my bounty dries upon her flesh, she will learn to embrace her new role.”
Solemi hungrily eyed the highborn’s pale flesh. “She is especially willful, mistress. She may require additional discipline.”
“And she shall have it, in time,” Varassa said, opening her palm and dispelling the phallus. Her own quim was still slick and ready. “For now, you shall relieve me.”
The niskaru eagerly scuttled around Serrane and brought her tongue to her mistress’s sodden slit. She was every bit as skilled at pleasuring a quim as a cock, and Varassa gently stroked the girl’s platinum hair right in front of the exhausted, seed-splattered slave.
“The Spider Queen has many lessons prepared for our guest,” the Matron Mother said, smiling. “We shall begin again soon.”
2
Humility
Serrane Starwind awakened with a start, and her eyes immediately scoured the darkness for any signs of her captors. She couldn’t believe she had allowed herself to fall asleep in this horrible place—she should have forced herself to stay alert and vigilant.
I also should have forced myself not to climax like a whore when that drow bitch shoved her cock in my mouth.
The ranger snarled in disgust—mostly at herself—as she continued scanning the room. The Matron Mother had extinguished the magical torch before she left, shrouding the entire room in shadow. The only source of light was the faint, ominous violet glow of the crystalline orb clutched in the hands of the statue on the wall. Serrane didn’t hear any breathing, however, which probably meant she was alone. How long had she been unconscious? Her only point of reference was that the semen covering her face and chin had dried.
I used to play this game with Julian. He would mark his territory by covering my whole body, and I would let it dry until morning. What would he say if he knew that a part of me enjoyed being tied up by my enemies? What would he think if he saw how hard I came when that drow bitch fucked my throat?
Serrane snarled and tugged at her restraints. The leash had been removed from her collar, but she was still suspended face-down in midair, unable to move or rotate her head more than a few inches in any direction. Her arms were locked behind her back and her legs were splayed open wide, and no amount of struggling helped free them. She didn’t understand how simple webs could be this strong. She was bound, naked, and completely at the mercy of her captors.
And a part of me loves it.
Grimacing, the ranger forced herself to take a deep breath and reach out to the Aether. She could still feel its power suffusing the room, but every time she tried to shape it into a spell, the magic fizzled at her fingertips. Somehow, the webs were sapping away her strength. Perhaps the statue was imbuing them with power…
After a few more failed attempts, Serrane finally gave up. Her sorcery wouldn’t save her here, especially without her bow to focus her power. Her only real chance was to hold out as long as possible for Julian to rescue her. The thought of being a damsel in distress made her nauseous, but the truth was unavoidable. He and his surviving knights were undoubtedly searching for her already, and they wouldn’t stop until they found her.
Or died in the attempt.
Serrane’s stomach sank at the thought. After six months of bloody struggle against the drow occupation, the resistance was no closer to victory. In fact, things were far worse than they had ever been. The Matron Mother’s slave armies outnumbered the resistance fighters a hundred to one, and the dark elf priestesses seemed completely unaffected by the Shattering. How could the Spider Queen still grant them power when all the other gods had fallen silent? Was she responsible for this cataclysm somehow?
The ranger was still hanging helplessly in place when she heard a sudden thud just outside the door behind her left shoulder. The sound repeated a second and then a third time, and Serrane swore she heard a stifled gasp before everything went silent.
Frowning, she craned her neck to look at the door. When nothing else happened for almost a minute, she started to wonder if she had imagined the whole thing…but then she heard metal scraping on metal, almost like someone was trying to pick the lock.
Her heart raced in her chest. Had the resistance found her already? It seemed impossible—the Black Palace was the most heavily guarded building in the entire city these days. But why else would someone be trying to break in?
Serrane held her breath as the scraping grew louder and louder. Eventually there was a loud click, and when the door burst open, a familiar figure stormed into the room.
“Julian!” Serrane called out. “Oh, thank the gods…”
He rushed over to her so quickly that his movements were little more than a blur in the darkness. His face was covered in blond stubble and smeared with dirt, but she had never seen a more beautiful sight in her whole life.
“Escar’s mercy,” he gasped, placing his hands around the sides of her head and dropping to a knee in front of her. “When I heard you’d been captured, I feared the worst…”
He leaned in and kissed her. The faint, dying embers of hope flickering inside her roared back to life, and for a single
perfect moment she could almost forget that the world had fallen to pieces around them.
“How in the bloody hell did you get in here?” Serrane asked. “The guards—”
“I’ll explain later,” Julian said. “Right now, we need to get you out of here.”
He drew a dagger from his belt and rose to inspect the webs around her shoulders for any sign of a weak spot. He was clad in the purple-black leather armor of the Matron Mother’s slave soldiers; the resistance had stolen dozens of similar suits over the past few months. Still, that didn’t explain how he could have possibly gotten past so many drow warriors. Slave soldiers weren’t allowed inside the Black Palace, otherwise the resistance would have been able to embed spies here months ago…
“Gods, what did they do you?” Julian breathed, his fingers hovering above the dried seed splattered across her face.
“The Matron Mother will pay for her depravities,” Serrane hissed.
“And you didn’t fight back?”
Serrane glared at him. “Of course I did!”
“Are you certain?” Julian asked, his lip twisting in disgust. “I know you better than anyone. You probably liked it, didn’t you?”
“What?” she stammered. “Julian, cut me down!”
“Why? We both know you prefer it this way,” he said, placing his hands upon the webs binding her arms. “Trapped and powerless, completely at the mercy of your captors…deep down, this is all you’ve ever really wanted.”
Serrane’s mouth went dry. She couldn’t even muster the will to speak. What in the hell was he doing? What in the hell was he saying?
“You’ll be happier if you just admit the truth,” Julian said, sliding the dagger back into its sheath at his belt. “You’ve always longed for a life of simple, obedient submission, and this is your chance to finally embrace it.”
A cold tingle rippled down the length of Serrane’s spine. “You aren’t Julian.”
“Does it matter?” he asked. “I’m here to rescue you from your true bondage—the lies you’ve always told yourself.”
He smiled down at her, and his entire face began to change. His stubble receded, his hair grew out, and he shrank almost a foot. Soon, Serrane was staring at a topless half-elven woman with green eyes and a wicked grin on her lips.
“Good morning, cunt,” Solemi said. “I hope you don’t mind me entertaining myself.”
Serrane closed her eyes and swallowed the bitter lump in her throat. She should have known that the drow wouldn’t settle for mere physical torture—they would try and assault her mind as well. She needed to be ready for anything.
“I have only seen your Knight-Captain from a distance a handful of times,” the half-elf girl said, snickering. “I’m pleased I was still able to weave a convincing illusion.”
Serrane took a deep breath and ordered herself to remain calm. She still remembered hearing the news about Solemi’s disappearance a few years ago. Evidently, the half-elf and a local farmboy had been snatched up by the drow somewhere outside of Riverbend. By all accounts, the girl had been sweet and charming once, but apparently years of being crushed beneath the heel of a drow priestess had warped her mind.
The same thing could happen to me if I’m not careful.
“I’m surprised your mistress allows you to weave magic unsupervised,” Serrane said.
Solemi snorted. “That’s because you don’t know anything about her. She has always nurtured my talents. Magic is power, and power is everything in Vel’shannar.”
The ranger pursed her lips as her body continued swaying helplessly in the webs. There had to be some way she could turn this situation to her advantage. Perhaps she could get through to this girl somehow, especially without the Matron Mother looming over her shoulder.
“If you untie me, we could sneak out of here before anyone knows we’re gone,” Serrane said. “I still know this building well…we could easily escape.”
Solemi arched one of her platinum eyebrows. “And why would I possibly want to do that?”
“Don’t you want to see your family again?”
“The only family I need is here,” the girl said, gesturing toward the statue to their right. “I serve the Matron Mother, and through her, the Spider Queen.”
Serrane sighed. She had known this wouldn’t be easy, but it was still her only real chance. There had to be some way to get through to this girl…
“I realize this must all be very overwhelming for you, and I can’t even begin to imagine the torments you must have endured in the Underworld,” Serrane said. “But things don’t have to be this way. You can still return to—”
“Oh, you are adorable!” Solemi chuckled as she sauntered forward on her stiletto heels. “You honestly believe you can ‘save’ me, don’t you?”
“What I think is that you’re confused. But I promise, once we get you back to your family, we can—”
Solemi threw back her head and laughed. It was sweet and wicked all at once, and a dark shiver skittered down Serrane’s spine.
“The mistress will definitely want to keep you around, cunt,” the half-elf said, placing her hand upon the ranger’s seed-covered cheek. “Breaking you will be a true delight. But one day soon, you will understand the truth. You will eagerly kneel before your new mistress…and you will know power and pleasure beyond your wildest fantasies.”
Solemi patted Serrane’s cheek twice before she shuffled over to one of the dressers veiled in shadows along the western wall. Her hand dipped into the top shelf and returned holding another leash. It was significantly shorter than the one she had used yesterday, and the girl wasted no time fastening it to the small metal ring on the front of Serrane’s collar.
“Please, just listen to me,” the ranger said, wincing at the subtle tug on her neck. “You don’t have to be a slave to anyone. You can be free again!”
Solemi’s smile slowly wilted. “Free to do what? Live in fear that some old wizard will discover my sorcery and lock me away? Half-breed farm girls from Riverbend aren’t given the same opportunities as highborn elves from Nelu’Thalas. Do you know how Highwind used to punish illusionists? Your Council would have locked me in the Gray Citadel…or maybe even banished me all the way to the Galespire out east.”
The half-elf shook her head. “I am far freer as the mistress’s slave than I ever was as a sorcerer on the surface. Like I said, the Matron Mother nurtures my gift. Among the drow, no one is forced to apologize for embracing their power.”
Serrane swallowed heavily. “I don’t approve of the way the Guild treats channelers, but it doesn’t matter anymore. After the Shattering, everything is different. If you help me, there’s a chance we could—”
Solemi slapped Serrane across the face. “Save your breath, highborn. You will need it when your throat is bulging with General Nym’s cock.”
Magic crackled at Solemi’s fingertips, and the webs began to twist and writhe around the ranger’s body as they gently lowered her to the floor. Her legs and ankles were soon free, though they kept her arms pinned tightly behind her back.
“The Matron Mother wants you to understand the fate that awaits you should you refuse to cooperate,” Solemi said, grabbing Serrane’s leash and tugging her forward. “Now walk, cunt!”
The girl dragged Serrane across the parlor toward the door. The ranger struggled to free her wrists, but somehow the webs were still preventing her from reaching out to the Aether. All she could do was stumble forward while Solemi led her through the long, shadowy corridors of the Black Palace.
The drow sentries snickered at the naked highborn elf as she was paraded past them. Some reached out to fondle her tits, while others smacked her ass. All of them leered hungrily at Serrane as if she were a piece of meat. If they had paused for even a moment, the men surely would have groped her quim as well.
But thankfully, Solemi pushed forward. When they finally emerged from the palace, the sun was blazing in a cloudless blue sky. The stone steps leading down into the plaza belo
w remained intact, and a crowd of Highwind citizens had gathered along the sides. About a hundred of the Matron Mother’s slave soldiers—the ones who weren’t blinded by daylight—had cordoned off a path for the Throne Maiden to escort the Ranger-General.
“It is time for your people to see their heroine for what she really is,” Solemi said. “A weak, powerless slut covered in the seed of her conqueror. Let the sun bake the Matron Mother’s dominance into your flesh as a reminder of your failure.”
She jerked on the leash so hard that Serrane choked and nearly tripped. As the two of them descended the steps, the crowd fell silent. Other would-be conquerors might have used this opportunity to give a grandiose speech to their new subjects, but the Matron Mother was nowhere to be found. Evidently, she was content to allow fear to do the work for her.
Serrane averted her eyes and stared down at the cobblestone streets as she was pulled forward. Every step was more humiliating than the last. She had never been defeated this thoroughly in a century of battle, and for the first time in her life, she had no idea if she could fight her way out.
Julian is my only hope. He must be out there in the crowd somewhere waiting to strike…
Serrane repeated those words to herself over and over again, but Julian and his surviving knights never appeared. No one tried to rescue her—no one shouted a single word of support from the crowd. The people of Highwind had been so thoroughly terrorized she could feel their despair clinging on the wind. The Ranger-General’s bound, naked body was the final symbol of the resistance’s failure, and the Matron Mother knew it.
After a degrading half-mile march, Serrane and Solemi finally arrived at the steps to the Gray Citadel. For the better part of the last century, the prison had held the most dangerous people in the Northern Reaches, from sorcerers to vampires to lycanthropes. The Mage’s Guild had always insisted that the conditions within were “humane” and “civilized,” though no one had ever truly believed them. Still, it was hard to imagine how much worse things must have been since the Matron Mother converted the whole structure into her personal dungeon.