by Sarah Hawke
The drow blew a thin stream of air across Serrane’s bald quim, and the ranger immediately—and uncontrollably—cried into her gag as a shudder of delight rippled through her. Her toes curled, her hands clenched above her head…and her cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“Unbelievable,” Laetharys scoffed. “You may be even more pathetic than my sister’s niskaru pet. At least that girl had to be properly broken in first.”
Serrane squeezed her eyes shut. Hold yourself together! Don’t give this bitch the satisfaction of seeing you like this.
Laetharys snickered. “You’re actually going to get off when Nym’s seed floods into your womb, aren’t you? He usually prefers it when his breeding bitches scream and fight back…I wonder how he’ll react when you start begging for it.”
Don’t listen to her. Don’t think about it. The people of Highwind are still counting on me to get them out of this. I need to stay strong and keep my head…
“I have half a mind to fuck you myself before my sister gets here,” Laetharys said. “But then again, Nym is right: willing partners are never as much fun.”
Without warning, the drow woman slipped one of her gray fingers into Serrane’s quim, and once again the ranger screamed into her gag as a current of carnal electricity coursed through her—
And then she heard the familiar clicking of the Matron Mother’s stiletto heels approaching from the shadows of the corridor. Serrane could barely even turn her head with her leash pulled so taut, but her ears could also make out other footfalls following closely behind Varassa. One set was distinctly feminine, but the other was distinctly not.
It’s him. Oh gods, it’s him.
“Matron Mother,” Laetharys said, kneeling. “The highborn cunt is ready for her next trial, as you instructed.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Serrane watched as Varassa, Solemi, and Nym approached the rack. The half-elf girl kept her distance, but the drow did not. Varassa and Nym sauntered next to Serrane to inspect her restraints more closely.
“Excellent,” the Matron Mother said, nodding. “Priestess Araene said she was barely recognizable after the males spilled upon her.”
“Their accuracy was impressive,” Laetharys agreed. “Though it clearly wasn’t her first time being bathed by so many stems. I wonder if all highborn females are this pathetic.”
“We will find out soon enough,” Varassa said, dragging the tip of her fingernail across Serrane’s taut belly. “Unfortunately, Araene also told me that you disobeyed my orders and struck my slave.”
Laetharys’s cheek twitched. “She spoke out of turn. She needed to be disciplined!”
“My instructions were quite clear, sister. I did not want her damaged in any way.” The Matron Mother placed her palm upon Serrane’s cheek. The drow woman’s touch was surprisingly soft, though there was no mistaking the aura of cold menace behind it. “You are fortunate your condition has left you too weak and pathetic to leave much of a mark.”
Varassa’s hand flashed with Aetheric energy, and Serrane felt the familiar warmth of restorative magic coursing through her cheek.
“What should I have done?” Laetharys asked. “Allowed this darthiir cunt to slander me unchallenged?”
“You should have obeyed my orders, sister,” Varassa replied mildly. “If you couldn’t handle one little highborn slave, it’s no wonder the Spider Queen found you unworthy of channeling her power.”
Laetharys seethed. For a moment, it appeared as though she might actually lash out, but she seemed to catch herself at the last moment and swallow her rage instead. Still, Serrane could see the hatred blazing in the woman’s eyes.
That’s it. All I need to do is figure out a way to exploit her hatred and aggrievement…
“Regardless, the cunt is obviously ready for her final trial,” Varassa said, turning back to Nym. “What do you think, General? Are you ready to claim your prize?”
Nym stepped between Serrane’s splayed legs and rubbed his hands across her smooth calves, a ravenous glint in his red eyes. “Yes, Matron Mother.”
“Then we should get started immediately,” Varassa said. “Prepare him, sister.”
Laetharys’s brow furrowed. “But—”
“On your knees,” Varassa repeated. “Now.”
Just like during the previous trial, Laetharys reluctantly knelt before Nym and began fiddling with his belt and trousers. His large gray stem was already hard and ready by the time her fingers curled around the shaft, and he wasted no time grabbing the back of the woman’s head and forcing his full length down her throat.
“I doubt he’ll last long inside you,” Varassa whispered to Serrane as she leaned down over the ranger’s head and unfastened the gag. “You’ll only have a few moments to make your choice.”
Serrane gasped and licked at her lips once the gag was free. “Choice? What choice?”
“The same one you’ve had all along, of course: you can either forsake your past life and pledge yourself to me, willingly and completely…or you can spend the rest of your long days as breeding stock for my armies.”
The ranger grimaced as she watched Nym grab the back of Laetharys’s head and relentlessly skull-fuck her—all while keeping his eyes fastened upon the trembling pale flesh of his true prize. With a flick of the Matron Mother’s fingers, he would no doubt cast Laetharys aside and plunge his cock into Serrane’s sopping quim. She could already feel him thrusting, throbbing, and inevitably spilling deep inside her…
“You call that a choice?” the ranger whispered.
“It is the most importance choice a slave can ever make,” Varassa said. “You will serve the Spider Queen either way—the only question is whether you will do so willingly.”
Serrane closed her eyes and swallowed. Her quim was still burning, and for some unfathomable reason, a part of her wanted to feel Nym’s cock inside her. But the path forward here hadn’t changed—she needed to buy herself time, and there was only one way to do that.
“Fine,” she said, swallowing. “I will serve you.”
Varassa smiled. “I had a feeling you would come around eventually. Wonderful.”
Laetharys immediately pulled her mouth from Nym’s cock and wriggled free of his grip. “What?” she gasped, her lips wet with spittle. “She’s lying!”
“Perhaps,” Varassa said with a shrug. “Only time will tell.”
“But this cunt is ripe and ready!” Laetharys protested. “She would say anything to protect her womb!”
The Matron Mother chuckled darkly as she dragged her fingertips across Serrane’s belly again. “That’s precisely why I intend to make her prove her loyalty.”
Laetharys shook her head. “How?”
“Take your position, General,” Varassa ordered.
Nym instantly snapped into action. He shoved Laetharys aside so hard she toppled over, then wedged himself between the ranger’s splayed legs. Serrane gasped when he nudged the tip of his swollen cock against her molten entrance…
“Wait!” the ranger protested, a wave of pure terror crashing over her. “I said I would serve you!”
“You did say that, yes,” Varassa replied coolly. “But I require more than easy promises from my slaves. When I give you an order, I expect you to obey it—eagerly and without hesitation.”
Serrane swallowed so heavily she almost choked. “What do you want me to do?”
“First, I want you to tell me your name.”
“What?”
“Tell me your name!”
“Serrane Starwind.”
“Wrong,” Varassa said, signaling for Nym to nudge the tip inside half an inch. “From now on, your name is ‘Cunt.’ Do you understand?”
Serrane swallowed again, nearly paralyzed by the heat and girth of the cock resting just within her, yearning to penetrate her. Her treacherous quim was desperate for Nym to thrust all the way inside even as her mind screamed at her to say anything—do anything—to stop him. “I understand,” she breathed. “My name is
Cunt.”
“Better, but you forgot to address me properly. I ask you again: what is your name?”
“My name is Cunt, mistress.”
Varassa smiled. “Very good. Now tell me you forsake Highwind and all its people.”
Serrane bit her trembling lip. “I forsake Highwind and all its people.”
“Tell me you forsake your wasted life as a ranger.”
“I forsake my wasted life as a ranger.”
Varassa nodded, and her blue eyes flicked back to Nym. “Now beg the good general here to fuck you in the ass.”
Serrane froze. “What?”
“You didn’t really think it would be that easy, did you?” Varassa asked. “I promised the general a taste of highborn flesh, and he will have it before this night is over. The only question is whether he will spill his seed in your womb…or in your bowels.”
Serrane inhaled sharply and clenched her teeth as the man standing between her legs eased his tip all the way inside her. His red eyes blazed with the feral fury of an enraged beast, and she could feel his entire body trembling as he waited for the Matron Mother’s permission to fully penetrate his prey. He wouldn’t be gentle—he probably didn’t even know how to be gentle. He would relentlessly pound each and every one of her holes with his thick gray stem if given the chance.
Oh, gods. Julian, where are you? Why haven’t you found me?
“Make your choice, darthiir,” Varassa said, leaning down and placing her lips against the highborn’s ear. “Your ass or your cunt…your bowels or your womb.”
Serrane couldn’t move or speak. She was completely paralyzed with dread, as if all her denials about what was happening had finally caught up with her in one singular, horrific moment. She couldn’t stall or delay this any longer.
“Very well,” Varassa said. “Breed her.”
Nym grinned wickedly as he grabbed Serrane’s calves and began to thrust—
“Wait!” the ranger pleaded, shaking her head so hard and so frantically the taut collar nearly choked her. “Fuck my ass.”
The Matron Mother raised a hand for Nym to stop. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“Fuck my ass,” Serrane repeated, more loudly this time.
The corner of Varassa’s mouth curled into a dark grin. “Beg him for it.”
“Fuck my ass, please!”
“Tell him how much you want it inside you.”
“I want your cock inside me!”
“Tell him how much you need his cock inside you.”
“I need your cock inside me!”
“Tell him to fuck you as hard as he can.”
“Fuck my ass as hard as you can!” Serrane shouted. “Please!”
“Good girl,” Varassa said, smiling victoriously. “By all means, General: give her what she wants.”
Nym slowly withdrew the head of his cock from the ranger’s sopping slit and pushed it against her puckered ass instead. Serrane cried out when he brutally thrust the tip inside, and then again when he began forcing his full length deep into her bowels.
“That’s it,” Varassa cooed as she pinched the ranger’s nipples. “Take his stem up your sweet little highborn ass.”
Snarling like a beast, Nym grabbed one of the Serrane’s golden braids with one hand while he smacked the back of her thighs with the other. “Plynn ol jal, darthiir!”
Serrane bit down on her lip so hard she tasted blood, her body jolting against her restraints every time he thrust. The pain was excruciating…right up until it transformed into sheer, unbridled ecstasy. She squealed in delight when Nym buried himself to the hilt, and she nearly blacked out when he began thrusting in earnest. Every erogenous zone in her body seemed to explode simultaneously.
“A lil phraktos,” Laetharys breathed as she slowly returned to her feet. “She’s actually enjoying it!”
“Of course she is,” Varassa said, pinching the ranger’s nipples even harder. “True cunts always do.”
A cascade of shame crashed over Serrane even as her body threatened to climax. How could she possibly be enjoying this? Why was her body betraying her?
What if it isn’t? What if this is who I really am?
“Harder,” Serrane blubbered uncontrollably. “Please, fuck me harder!”
Nym’s face twisted in confusion—he probably wasn’t used to his “lovers” showing genuine enthusiasm—but he released his grip on her hair and allowed her head to slump flat against the rack again. He clutched at the sides of her waist instead, giving him the leverage he needed to pound into her with the relentless fury of an orc barbarian.
“Now that you’ve made your choice, perhaps tomorrow I’ll have him take you in the public square,” Varassa said, her blue eyes glimmering. “The whole city can watch as their Ranger-General begs her conquerors to fuck her ass.”
“Le’thos!” Serrane cried out as her body finally succumbed to euphoria. Her eyes closed, her voice gave out, her toes curled in midair…
And Nym flooded her bowels with his seed. Serrane felt his cock spasm and spurt, and her pelvis bucked and clenched uncontrollably as if she were trying to coax every last drop from his stem. He sneered down at her once he was finally spent, his red eyes filled with the contempt of a warrior who had just thoroughly conquered his opponent.
“Perfect,” Varassa exclaimed with a giddy cackle as she glanced at Solemi. “She will take some work yet, but one day soon she will become a fine Throne Maiden. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Absolutely, mistress,” Solemi said, leaning over the side of the rack and brushing several sweaty locks of braided hair from Serrane’s eyes. “It is her destiny to serve you.”
Laetharys hissed between her teeth. “I don’t understand, sister. What use do you have for another surface cunt?”
Varassa pinched the ranger’s nipples again, triggering another involuntary shudder through her prone body. Serrane’s breaths were staggered and uneven; every inch of her skin tingled as if she were tethered to a bolt of lightning.
“I can think of several right now,” the Matron Mother said. “Surely your imagination isn’t that poor, sister.”
“I’m serious,” Laetharys insisted. “You’ve had your fun with this bitch and thoroughly humiliated her in the process. Why not put her body to real use? In a few decades, the sorcerers born from her womb could lead our armies into battle against her own people!”
Varassa shrugged. “Our armies will destroy Nelu’Thalas with or without her help.”
“Then at least allow Nym to breed your other cunt,” Laetharys said, jabbing a gray finger at Solemi. “We can strap her to the rack right now!”
Varassa’s face suddenly darkened. “I have made it perfectly clear that my Throne Maidens are not be despoiled under any circumstances. I am the Matron Mother of Vel’shannar and High Priestess of the Spider Queen—I will do whatever I wish with my slaves.”
“I doubt the Spider Queen would approve of wasting such precious resources, especially in her weakened state,” Laetharys protested. “We could—”
Without warning, Solemi lunged forward and backhanded the pregnant drow across the face. “How dare you disparage the power of the Spider Queen!”
The entire dungeon seemed to chill several degrees as Laetharys dabbed the blood from her lips and glared daggers at the half-elven girl. “You aren’t even drow!” she practically screamed. “A mongrel cunt cannot be allowed to—”
“Enough!” Varassa snarled. “I’ve had more than enough of your treacherous tongue for one day, sister. Why don’t we put it to better use?”
The Matron Mother gestured with her shoulder, and Nym finally withdrew his shriveled stem from Serrane’s bowels. The ranger groaned, half in relief and half in disappointment, as the invading cock slid from her body. Nym spun around, grabbed a thick shock of Laetharys’s white hair, and forced her onto her knees between Serrane’s splayed legs.
“If you’re so concerned about wasting the good general’s seed,” Varassa taunted, “perhaps
I shall have you follow him around and clean up after him for the next few days.”
Laetharys hissed. “You can’t—”
Her protests became muffled nonsense when Nym abruptly shoved her head between Serrane’s legs. The ranger could already feel the man’s copious offering seeping from her bowels, and she soon felt the reluctant licks of Laetharys’s tongue scooping it up.
“Much better,” Varassa said. “After all these years, I believe we’ve finally found my sister’s true calling.”
As the Matron Mother’s wicked cackling echoed through the dungeon, Serrane closed her eyes and forced herself to focus beyond the warm wetness of the tongue in her ass. Even though her body kept betraying her, her mind still recognized that this remained her best—and possibly only—chance at escape. Like all monsters, the drow hated one another as much or more than their actual enemies. They would inevitably turn upon themselves, especially when the authority of their leader began to wane. Varassa was powerful, to be sure, but her obvious bond with Solemi was the one crack in her otherwise impenetrable armor.
And don’t forget what Laetharys said—apparently the Spider Queen is weakened after all. There must be some way for the resistance to exploit that…
“You can have her ass again once my sister is finished,” Varassa said. “I shall restore you.”
Nym’s mouth curled into a sinister grin as he slowly stroked his stem. “You honor me, Matron Mother.”
“If she behaves, you and I shall spend tomorrow taking her together. Her cunt belongs to me, but her bowels…well, let’s just say that until her training is complete, they shall be far more communal.”
Leaning forward, Varassa smiled and placed her hand upon Serrane’s cheek. “I trust you don’t have a problem with this arrangement, Cunt?”
Serrane swallowed and shook her head. Her quim was burning so hot that she couldn’t stop thinking about Varassa’s cock slipping inside her, and when she imagined Nym’s stem sliding into her bowels at the same moment…
“No, mistress,” she whimpered. “I’m…I’m ready for you now.”
Chuckling, Varassa dragged her hand all the way down the ranger’s body until the tips of her fingers slipped inside Serrane’s quim. “Yes, you are,” the Matron Mother breathed. “But you will need to learn patience, my pet. Continue to obey me, and the glorious life of a Throne Maiden will eventually be yours.”