Freed from a future of slavery, the veil of deception has been pulled from Erys Wynthae’s eyes. Brought to terms with the extent of her betrayal, Erys must make a choice and come to terms with the consequences of both her own actions and what has been done to her. As the night draws on, the once noble Lady may yet lose her mind to it. Through her invitation, ownership of Lord Larson Moore’s estate has changed hands unto a power beyond mortal reckoning that now bears her leash. With its once residents rounded up and caged as specimens for the lich Eliza and her ghoulish companions’ needs, the unliving host is free to establish its foothold within the sleeping coastal city.
Under a gibbous moon that shimmers and shines off the coastal waters, Mairport sleeps in peaceful tranquillity. Its streets are quiet but for those coming and going to pubs and inns. A night like any other for the simple, coastal trade city. Above it all, looking down on the city from its hilltop perch, even the Mahtanel Manor is quiet, its lights out and curtains drawn. Beyond its broken gate and shattered doors, not a soul was to be found. Beneath the grandiose halls and extravagant rooms in the manor’s equally as grand basement floor, away from prying eyes and ears, the night was but beginning.
“Who the hell are you people?! I don’t own anything, I’m just a guest! Let me go!” Wrists bound behind his back and jostled by one of Lystra’s associates, Erys knew the voice that now made her skin crawl, pulling the woodland cloak tighter around her naked body as footsteps scraped down the staircase.
“Ah, shut up and move it already!” Gyles. Seeing him shoved the last few steps down – making him stagger and fall flat on his face, his hands bound uselessly behind his back – made Erys feel a little better about the situation, but she would still have preferred to be better dressed for such an occasion, having suffered more than enough bare humiliation before him. The collar about her neck and its chain felt tighter, but there was nothing she could about it all – Lystra had denied her, claiming there was no time, and pulled more firmly on the chain that now bound her to the mythical, unliving Wight.
“Get up! Ah, jeez…” Gyles’ escort – Merith, if she recalled the name correctly, the one with dirty red coloured hair whom had carried her, too – was anything but kind with the insidious man, grabbing him by the scruff of his fine coat to easily drag him the rest of the way before dropping him to his knees in Lystra’s presence. She had stood waiting with folded arms in the middle of the dark, underground chamber, one much larger than the dungeon Erys had occupied.
“So we meet again. It is good to see you so spirited…” Unfolding her arms and reaching down to gently slide her pure white fingers under Gyles’ chin, Lystra beckoned the man up to meet her eyes. At first he seemed confused by the ethereal beauty’s familiarity with him, yet even as Erys watched the pair, wary of yet another betrayal, his face quickly turned to one of horror.
“No… no! Get away from me, monster! All of them…. You, you…” Falling back and moving by scuffing his feet in a mad panic across the hard stone floor, the bound man tried to distance himself from the ethereal noble. Lystra made no attempt to follow, merely standing proud with her arms folded once more, even smiling at the horrified display.
“Killed them? No, well… just the leader. The others are more useful alive, for now. I wonder if the same can be said of you?” Erys felt her stomach freeze, though she couldn’t back away. There was no hand on the leash of her collar, but she felt it all the same, pinning her in place. Lystra had killed someone, and spoke of it so passively? Those dark red eyes turned to Erys, the soft-lipped smile doing nothing to soothe her now.
“What say you, fair Lady of mine, does this one’s life still hold value?” It took a long moment for Erys to realise she was being addressed, even asked for her opinion on the matter from the otherworldly monstrous beauty before her. The collar tightened around her neck, feeling more like a noose.
His life, value? With the adrenaline and fear from what she had suffered gone, Erys no longer had the taste for blood in her mouth, and could only choke under the thought of being quite so disparate over human life. She was no judge, surely had no right to dictate such a thing. Her vision swam, filled with those piercing eyes the colour of life and death. An answer was expected of her, yet breathing alone was difficult, the collar constricting her with a dead chill.
“I don’t… I…” She wanted to flee into the night once more, to find an escape from this madness, yet her body would only move forward towards the undead noble. Lystra’s stunning eyes were shining with amusement, the ethereal lips curled wickedly. Erys’ body staggered and moved of its own volition until she could all but feel the lack of air coming from the Wight’s open mouth against her face.
“Well, before asking that, perhaps I must open your eyes.” A hand was resting on her cheek, slowly tracing down the soft curve of her jaw as it held her gaze upward. The Wight’s fine hair framed that inquisitive face with a golden silk that draped down to touch Erys’ skin, all but enveloping her in the transient beauty.
Held in the grip of those bottomless pools, Erys could do nothing but stare with wide, fearful eyes as Lystra’s chill surrounded and consumed her very soul, seeping deeper until even her vision blurred and faded into a white nothingness.
. . . . . .
“Her name is Erys Wynthae, well-to-do noble of the Linhern Court that’s earned a number of honours. Quite the mediary, it seems.” That unfamiliar voice filled her mind once more, presenting her with conversations she had never heard before. It was Lystra’s voice to reply.
“I see… and she will be betrayed? Has she has grown too powerful, too influential, I wonder…” Vision filled her mind, but not the dark of the dungeon. A rich, vibrant dining hall filled her mind, decorated with bold tapestries of scenes all but forgotten by time. Olvang’s Charge, The Sunrise of Zo’qeth, Madness of Eternity and more Erys could neither recognise nor will her vision to focus upon.
“Correct as always, you keep your mind sharp, Lady Lystra.” Instead, the eyes she saw through focused on the figure at the opposite end of the table. A dashingly beautiful woman with straight black hair that spilled down past her shoulders and unnervingly sharp blood red eyes sitting in pools of pure darkness. Where Lystra’s gaze was soft with the ruby tint, the face she was forced to meet now reminded Erys of a serpent.
“Of course. Naturally, there is more to this story, then. It is not in your nature to call interest in such… clandestine mortal meddling, without good cause.” That her skin was a perfectly human colour and smiling lips a plush red did nothing to alleviate Erys’ fear of the woman across the table. That she knew anything of Erys was more than unsettling. That serpentine smile broke into a bemused grin, a quick laugh slipping from between wickedly curved fangs.
“Hah, ‘Oh no, the humans are not so complex. I merely thought we might gather for company and gossip akin to village stooges’, would that be what you expect to hear?” Those pitch eyes shone with a wicked shine that somehow managed to temper her sarcastic tone with a modicum of respect and bemusement. Lystra only scoffed, sipping from a tall wine glass before her.
“No, we are both much too old to play the village stooges. Do excuse the impatience, continue.” Lystra’s tone in turn was somewhat more guarded and humble than the words that had met Erys’ ear until now. Curiosity warred with her terror.
“Of course, you are not so arrogant as to view human endeavours as nothingness, perhaps it was ill of me to suggest such. She is being sent to negotiate a treaty with Meirport – the Mahtanel trade port city – coercing its allegiance to Linhern through threat of ‘protection’ from the growing revolt. Of course, the nobles who stand to benefit from the coup succeeding have made their own offers. For delivering our dear Ms. Wynthae, Meirport’s allegiance has already been signed off. Sold, for the price of one noble lady.” Spoken in such a conversational tone, Erys’ stomach would have turned if she could feel anything. Lystra’s silence said she was unmoved to the perversion of fate being discussed over the table, leaving her associate to continue.
“I must say, it’s rather insidious. Lord Larson of Meirport has already hired some bandits on the long road beyond Tylfen to ambush and ransack her carriage. They’ll make it seem like a simple robbery and murder, the fair Lady’s body never recovered. Communications between Linhern and Meirport will be forged until it is much too late – a copy of her seal has already been bought from her unwitting servant. She will disappear, the throne of Linhern soon after.” It almost sounded as if the wicked woman was appreciating the cunning of the betrayal, subtle enough to not alert anyone with genuine intent or be truly traced back to whom was involved until it was much too late.
“So if I remove the threat of those bandits, I have free passage into Meirport, I take it.” Once more forced to watch Lystra’s associate twist a wicked smile, Erys felt no less unsettled by the woman whom nodded as she twirled her own tall-necked wine glass, staring down into its viscous red contents.
“Precisely. For appearances, her arrival is expected. On the off chance that… something should go wrong with their plan, she would be welcomed as one would expect. The matter of Linhern’s coup will come in time, yet one thing is certain; Meirport is a target of interest we cannot let lie. If it is to fall to an allegiance, it will be ours – yours.” Outstretching a hand as though offering up the city itself across the table, Lystra’s companion flashed a set of shimmering nails that all but curled like claws as she rose from her seat.
“A remote township beyond ties to a crown in the shadow of a revolt, Linhern will have no militia to spare it… I see, a perfect ground to cultivate the snow. Eliza will be pleased.” Rising in kind, Lystra’s voice never changed from that rather guarded, stoic flat, despite how pleased for the arrangement she seemed. The pair met midway, Lystra’s ivory fingers taking to the offered hand without hesitation in what looked like a deal with the devil, sealing their plan and twisting Erys’ fate.
“How you handle it is at your discretion, my daughter is already arranging for the Avghouls to be smuggled in by sea. They will move by night, and await your invitation. I will expect to hear of grand results from yours.” With that devilish visage filling her mind, the vision faded and blurred to a much more comforting blank of white. It was not over, but it was good to be away from that unsettling presence that had set its eyes upon her.
. . . . . .
Whence light and focus returned, Erys looked upon a landscape of wilderness too nondescript to remember, yet knew it must be the road to Meirport, for down it rattled an all too familiar carriage. In the middle of that road knelt a wounded man, doubled over and clenching his side, hand bloodied and face pale.
“Gods, man, what happened?” Pulling the carriage to a hard stop, the finely dressed man driving jumped down to check on the wounded traveller. Somewhere in her gut, Erys remembered what happened next. With the carriage stopped and driver gone, bandits rushed out from the forest and foliage at the roadside to invade it and drag Erys out by force.
The ‘wounded traveller’ dragged their driver down and knocked him out in short order as muffled screams and scuffs filled the secluded country road. For a wonder, even Gyles fought the assailants, but was overwhelmed as easily as Erys had been, all three bound, gagged and hooded in short order. With them out of the way, Eliza – the one Erys now realised had not always been her carriage driver – hopped up into the seat, cracking the reigns to drive the spooked horses and carriage away to a more private location as their captives were carried off into the forest.
Erys wasn’t sure why she needed to see this, yet as the scene shifted once more, she could tell these were her own memories, as though a veil was being lifted from her mind. Yes, she remembered waking to the tormented scream of a man she did not know, and the first time she laid eyes upon Lystra’s pearlescent body.
Naked but for the necklace swinging from around her neck, the ethereal woman seemed to glow with an eerie light. Even in its dishevelled state, her silken hair that spilled down around her face held magnificence as she sat, knelt over the source of that waking scream. Between those perfectly smooth legs and under the supple curve of her behind lay a man near as pale as she, on a rather crude bed pallet.
Hunched over him, Lystra was hushing through pursed lips as his image faded, an unnatural ice-blue glow in her pupils, framed by emboldened red rings, fixated on his own wavering eyes. While one hand rested on his chest, the other covered his mouth with what seemed to be a single finger, silencing off the cry, but that was not all. From those hands, a shimmering wisp of blue extended, forming the shape of larger, incorporeal hands that curled like talons sunk into the man’s chest and face.
Erys remembered having wanted to scream, but finding no voice for it. Aside her, similarly bound at wrist an ankle, Gyles had put more vigour into trying, managing little more than a muffled whimper. It was yet enough to garner Lystra’s attention. Fear had all but consumed Erys, yet the spectral being simply raised the hand from the now silent man’s face, pressing that single finger to her curled lips to usher silence from they, too. Erys had fainted in that moment, leaving no further memory to recall but the comforting dark of escape.
Later, once she had regained consciousness, the bandits to have captured them returned to that room – a simplistic hollow of rock in some secluded cavern – and untied them both. It was only then Erys noticed their eyes all bore the same unnerving blue glow as Lystra had, and seemed to act under her will. Brought to their now decently dressed Queen, introductions were made, with an assurance of there being no need for fear.
She had saved her from a much worse fate, and would see Erys back on her journey soon. With formalities settled, Lystra had taken Gyles cheeks in her hand, lifting him up as those ethereal claws and piercing eyes bored into his mind, weaving her will unto him. When the same was done to Erys – restrained by Lystra’s bandit puppets – even these memories fuzzed and faded into blank nothingness, as though having fainted once more.
Sickeningly, Erys understood what had happened. She had not chosen Lystra’s salvation, but had been chosen and moved as a pawn from the very start, carrying out Lystra’s plan as was guided unto. It was the Wight whom had chosen her.
“I’ll make this simple, not because I think you a simple man, but because time is money, friend. Your Mistress has been sold off and owns nothing – yourself included. Now you weren’t part of the deal, but I can appreciate a good man’s worth. Join me and you’ll live a good, free life.” Sound and sight flooded back into her mind, the vision now far beyond her memories. Stood in a private room away from eyes and ears all except Lystra’s incorporeal reach, Larson was making an offer to her estranged servant.
“And the alternative…” As droll a tone as ever, Gyles’ gaze was fixed with a wary focus and measured expression that gave away as little as he was always prone to do. In response, Larson gave an equally indifferent shrug.
“I either ship you off too or simply kill you, whichever is less costly. I mean no offense, loose ends are bad for business, and you already have no name for anyone to miss. Covering your tracks is much simpler than the fair Lady’s. This is an opportunity you would be wise not to pass up.” Threats delivered on a silvered tongue as compliments were often the most effective. Erys knew that, yet still couldn’t help but feel queasy over what she now bore witness to. Larson was holding out a simple riding crop for horses as if a peace offering, in one hand, his other rested over the hilt of an ornate dagger at his side. Even without having already felt Gyles’ decision in her skin, she knew what he would come to decide.
“What is this…” Glancing first to the gilded dagger before quickly taking up the crop, Gyles looked over it inquisitively. Larson just laughed as he clapped his hands, happy for the other man to take up his more peaceful offer.
“Hah, that’s right, horses aren’t much of a thing in Linhern, are they? Think of it as a motivating tool. You look a strong lad with a good arm, so I’d like you to take care of stock.” Erys didn’t need to hear it to know she was that ‘stock’. The vision faded, and the blankness with it. Those bold red eyes marked with the faint hue of a wispy blue filled her world once more.
“The path is clear once more, this choice is yours alone.” Brought back to the here and now, Erys saw both the woman whom held her cheek and what had become of Gyles in a new light. He had been innocent, yet guilty… innocent, swept up in circumstance, much like she was, yet therein lied the difference. She had been chosen by another. Chosen by those who would betray her, chosen by those who would be her salvation. He had been innocence in his inadequacy, yet chose guilt.
Erys’ mind swam with a dark chill. What did that make of him, what did it make of her? Did she have the right to pass judgement for what he had become? Of course… she was of the nobility, power chosen unto power beyond reckoning, above the woes of peasants who had sought to drag her down. Erys’ gaze fluttered from her former servant to the ethereal noble aside her. She was more, chosen. Lystra had chosen and made her more. Holding the Wight’s gaze, something inside the noble lady finally broke, and fell away.
“Keep him. He has more value in service alive than dead.” The choice would be her own, even if it was her last. Death may have been a mercy, but Erys felt neither mercy nor empathy. If she was to serve under a power beyond mortals, then he would not be free from it all now. He had chosen life once, and now so would she. Lystra smiled happily, her soft fingers gently sliding from Erys’ face as she turned to nod at her occupied companion, busy nibbling on Gyles ear and grabbing his crotch after having pulled him to his feet and pinned him against the wall, now.
“You heard her, Merith. Take him away.” Waving a hand as though dismissively passing judgement, Lystra watched and waited for her companion to comply. Quickly pulling her lips off his earlobe, Merith laughed happily, drawing a simple black back from a pocket to shove over his head, yanking the draw string tight.
“Gagh, no! Just kill me, you damned bitch! I didn’t give you over to monsters, Where’s your humanity?! You betray us all to damnation!” Screaming into the masking hood and struggling uselessly as he was dragged away by the far more powerful ghoul, Gyles’ words left a sickly feel in Erys’ twisting mouth. With this, he would be gone from her sight, as likely never to be seen again.
If she held her peace, this was her farewell. Well, it was better it end this way. Erys closed her eyes to block out this parting image. Within a moment, he was gone, dragged deeper into the expansive basement dungeon through an iron door on scuffing feet, leaving only cold silence.
“You’ve done well, Erys.” It was Lystra’s gentle hand on her back that eased the tension she still felt, leaving her to look up at the ethereal beauty, wondering if it were truly alright to allow such a being to calm her. There was no resisting the soothing caress of those fingers down her spine though, quickly leaving her with little more than the fatigue that had been fended off by all the excitement and stress of the night.
“You deserve a proper rest, now. Your room is as it was left, go.” Even with her gentle tone, Lystra spoke as a Mistress did to a servant or pet, something Erys was painfully aware of, for it was a tone she was accustomed to using on others. The collar around her neck felt heavier. It was not going to be taken off even now, it seemed, affirming her place.
“Yes… well then, excuse me.” Even so, there was nothing to defy or resist. She needed rest, and that room had her clothing besides. Obedience was merely conceding to wisdom and grace, not submission and placation. She wanted to be away from the reminder of these dark places and into proper clothing, already.
Slipping away came easier than Erys had expected it to, simply away and gone from the dark and chill basement without incident. That she even left without escort should not have surprised her so, for it was clear the leash was simply longer than to rest at Lystra’s side. There would be no leaving the mansion, nor escape from the fate she had consigned herself and Gyles unto, but that did not matter. She no longer thought to flee and escape it, but be raised to something more in its light.
Up into the mansion proper, through its lit halls and eerie silence, Erys quickly found the room she had been given on arriving. Spacious and as rich as she would have expected, the luxury of the room almost seemed unnatural now. Free to finger the collar and broken chain around her neck, Erys pursed her lips uneasily. She could not have grown accustomed to captivity so quickly. Suitcase and clothing laid out just as it was left, she almost believed it all merely a bad dream.
Dropping the cloak from her shoulders quickly reminded her it was no such thing as the fabric rushed over her highly sensitive nipples. From them hung the all too real reminders, seeming to pull and stretch at her tortured body. Raising a hand part way, Erys stopped herself and shivered. She didn’t want to touch them, not even to try and take the things off. Not now, when the memory was so clear. She wasn’t even sure they would come off so simply, not seeming to have any chink in the elegant design, now that the pins were locked into the balled caps.
Putting them out of mind, Erys shook her head and turned to the suitcase to retrieve her nightgown. Rest would clear her head of the whole matter, and to be in proper, rich clothing would surely make her happy. Feeling her fingers slide over the silken gown within the case, the noble lady certainly felt a rush of spoiled pleasure fill her. A rich purple near black said to resemble the ancient goddess of midnight, she had seen to its tailoring long before the mauve fashion took Linhern.
Burying her face in its softness and drawing on the scent of home, Erys smiled at that faint memory. How proud she was to be ahead of the commoners and peers alike, though none were ever permitted to see it, of course. To be able to make any use of some of the pointless studying of old and tired literature she was put through was vindicating in its own right, regardless of whether one showed others their nightwear.
By all rights, it was a symbol of her noble pride, and a pleasure to slide over her shoulders and down her body. The loose dress to run down her stomach and thighs was tailored to a fine pattern of ensign flowers – splashes of white at the centre of large, soft petals – that left a not quite opaque film to the gown. Resting comfortably over her shoulders, the darker top half slid into place around her bosom with a tailored memory, snugging and supporting the curve with a lace-trimmed finesse to be expected of a noble’s dress.
Smoothing it down and twirling happily, the gown billowed and floated around her body as it brushed below the waist, hugging the soft round of her thighs with its gentle, white fur lining. Turning to the tall stand mirror, Erys marvelled in the fine elegance of it, of how it only hinted at the line of her body beneath its intricate patterns and cloud-like frills. Enamoured and emboldened, Lady Erys Wynthae felt the noble she had been raised to once more, yet something so simple to raise her spirits would as easily crush them. That Lady’s smile soon broke, shrivelling as her face paled.
Neither frilly lace shoulders nor the plunging neckline did anything to cover the sight and feel of that collar squeezing on her neck, its broken chain dangling down like some perverse jewellery. Furthermore, those horseshoe rings on her nipples were embossed in the chest of the gown, distorting its fine pattern and rubbing her with an itch she had hoped to ignore.
There was no ignoring the indecency that ruined the noble sheen of her gown, for they would never allow it. It would all stand testament to how she had been changed, to how she was no longer that innocent noble lady who could comfortably wear such a gown.
The more Erys stared, the more her breasts longed to be touched, squeezed and fondled to ease that tingling pang that throbbed through them. She wanted to touch her nipples, to feel those indecent rings, and despite her better sensibilities, her hands were moving.
Brushing and pressing against her nipple, Erys could feel the bar beneath her soft teat, irrevocable proof that her body had been violated, pierced and marked. It should have sickened Erys to her stomach, yet she could not help but want to touch it more, rolling her finger over the locking bar and pinching the nipple between her fingers until she could feel nothing but that thin string of metal beneath her skin. The sensation made her breath draw sharp and quick.
For a wonder, Erys’ body was rewarding the submission with a sense of pleasure, tingling little pangs of delight rushing through her breasts as her eyes widened. Before she could think better of it, the gown was off a shoulder, exposing her breast and the simple hoop of gold to hang from her now plush nipple. Such an obscene decoration, but she wanted to touch it, to feel what rush of stimulation it would give her.
Brushing up the swell of her breast, Erys’ fingers tepidly nudged at the gold loop, staring at how it pushed her nipple up with the simple motion. This thing truly was a part of her now, and did not bring her pain. Slipping her nail under the smooth metal, the noble lady gasped as she stared into her reflection, for the bar tingled and moved inside as she pushed the hoop up. The more she pressed at the horseshoe, the more that tingling twist raked at her nipple from within.
Perhaps it should have been obvious, but the simple sensation was enough to shake the innocent noble’s mind. Uncertain this was even her body any longer, Erys slid a finger into the hoop, the rest of her hand cupping and squeezing on her breast tenderly as that single finger flexed and pulled outward. The resultant shock of agonized bliss drew a soft moan that dropped Erys to her knees.
Oh, it had felt good, but in such a way that she would never have imagined, tugging and yanking so firmly from within, the jolt of pleasure bloomed from the core of her breast, rather than seeping in slowly through the skin. It was nothing for a proper lady like her to feel, but she could no longer stop tugging and flexing that finger, her whole hand kneading the breast to stoke the little whips of pleasure into the furnace building in her chest. This was what he had done to her, what he had made of her.
“This is what you truly are, Erys. Behind that cold front and turned up nose, you’re no better than a common whore.” Gyles voice against her ear made Erys shudder and gasp, closing her eyes and shaking her head as her finger – now stuck in the horseshoe hoop like a ring of station – waggled and yanked harder, faster and further from the breast, forcing sharp little wails from her throat as she shook.
“No, I’m not! This was your doing, you made me… made…” Fighting those words through ragged gasps was becoming harder by the moment, and she had only been assaulting one of her breasts. The other yet lay beneath the fine silk of her gown, its hardened protrusion and obscene accessory embossed in the fabric so indecently. His dry chuckle filled Erys’ already addled mind with humiliation.
“Me? You were ‘rescued’ before I could do anything more than give you a push. No, you – the one to betray humanity, to forsake freedom, side with monsters and more – you are the one who chose to fall.” It couldn’t be true, but Erys had no words. She had carved out a choice, but not this, surely…
The throbbing haze of pleasure consuming her mind was devouring such concerns before she could give them weight, leaving her all the more distraught for how her blooming desire urged the depraved act onward. This wasn’t who she was, wasn’t what she knew, but did it matter anymore? She had been manipulated and controlled, she was the one to be betrayed and twisted into this vile image. It was not her fault, she could only accept and give herself to it, now.
Those where the thoughts she wished to voice, yet only sharp, whimpering gasps would escape her lips as she stared into the mirror with glazed eyes. Why? Why could she not think straight? When had her other hand gone between her legs, hoisting the gown up to dig into the indecently squelching mess that set sparks off in her stomach? A lady did not make such vile sounds with her body! That was what she had been taught, that she was better than the crass commoners and whores, but there was no stopping it.
A lady did not slide fingers inside herself either, yet she could feel them. One, two and back to one in a clumsy dipping slick that had enthusiasm if nothing else. It was not nearly satisfying enough, but she couldn’t think how better to give in to the unstoppable hunger clouding her mind.
“The only value you have now is as a slave, but you don’t even care anymore, do you? So long as someone’s holding the leash, it’s not your fault.” The collar around her neck felt tighter, heavier. He was right… a body like hers that had been made so indecent and sensitive could no longer be a noble lady that hid from the truth, and she did not care.
The jangling chain bound her to this fate. It was not her fault she had been made this way, that the façade of nobility forced upon her had been torn away. On her knees before a mirror with one hand locked to her nipple ring and the other rubbing furiously between her legs, there was no fighting it. With nothing to her name and such a marked body, she would never be as powerful or unnaturally beautiful as Lady Lystra. It was all she could do to submit and give herself over to what she had become. Gyles laughter filled her head.
“Such pretty words, when the simple truth is you want this!” The chain jangled and yanked from its resting place between her breasts to over her shoulder and behind her back, twisting her collar around just as pressure slammed down on her back. Folded down to pressing her stomach against her knees and cheek against the soft carpet, Erys gasped and cried out in shock as the collar tightened against her neck, strangling her with the pressure of being pinned down.
Struggling to see out the corner of her eye into the mirror, Erys could only see her defeated posture at first, smothered into the carpet with that one hand mauling her breast, the other pinned under her chest by how she lay. She couldn’t move but for her gaze. What she saw and soon felt beyond that hand holding her down made Erys’ strained breathing stop cold.
“You want to get messed up so much you’ll have nowhere else to turn, not even any value as product for the Ciras auction block, don’t you? Well, let me oblige you, my lady.” Yanking hard on the chain, Gyles bowed her back and slammed his hips against her thighs in one swift motion, forcing her fingers aside as he entered her with force. Blood splattered and trickled down Erys’ twitching thighs immediately.
It hurt, but she didn’t want it to stop. She couldn’t speak, but she wanted to be hurt more. To be violated and torn apart until nothing but the white haze of pleasure remained. That was how she would be free, by casting off everything that tied her down and giving in to the simplest of desires. It was the only way, and as his rigid presence pistoned into her body, it felt good to escape this way.
Thick and pulsing, it was stirring her insides up and pushing out the tearing pain with each thrust to only leave pleasure in its wake. His grip on the leash was strangling her, but this was what she wanted, to lay so helpless under the wash of dominance to take everything away from her. No titles, no responsibility, power or expectations. Only wanton abandon, stealing even the power to breathe from her.
Gasping weak groans as her head went blank from the lack of air, Erys lay limp under those consuming thrusts. Rubbing back and forth against the carpet, it wasn’t long until her obscene breasts burned with the pressure and friction, the dragging tug of those piercings only worsened the feeling, yet she could no more stop that than anything else.
“Hah, look at you!” Yanking on the chain enough to pull Erys’ breasts up off the floor to swing freely in a moment of relief, her gaze was brought up to stare into the mirror and confront what she’d become. Her eyes dulled and hazy with lust, mouth hanging agape as she struggled for air, she looked nothing like the noble lady she had once been. She could neither face the image nor turn away from it as the rough pistoning rocked her body, sending waves of unimaginable pleasure through her.
“No, haah, it’s not…!” Try as she might, it was difficult enough to breathe, let alone form some weak willed protest to the image before her. Her body thrummed with power and pleasure that blanked out all other thoughts and feelings, overriding the desperation to breathe with the urgency of climax. There was no way to deny it.
“I can’t… c-aagh!” Her words sputtering to choked nothings, the dizzying high brought on by the combination of sex and strangling asphyxiation finally took her. Hips shaking as she gasped out a shattering orgasm, Erys’ sex squirted and gushed around her fingers, spattering her already messy thighs and dampening the carpet beneath her as she rode out that quivering climax. With this, there truly was no turning back, but all she could feel was satisfaction as the once noble lady collapsed face-down into a heap, fatigue finally taking her…
From the open door, the elven Avghoul to have offered her cloak in the first place watched in a quiet astonishment, her long black hair acting as a cowl of shadow over her already pallid skin that consumed the light. She had faith in her Mistress’ design, but to see the lady with so little sexual experience go into such a frenzy, hallucinating enough to believe she was being choked and ravaged whilst forcing four fingers into her virgin body was an impressive sight to behold.
Pushing the door open, she stepped in on silent feet and knelt aside the unconscious human, reaching down to brush the ruffled and messy hair from her face. She would need to report what she had seen to Mistress, but a little indulgent care came first.
Gently pulling the woman’s hand from her reddened folds, the dark haired elf lifted it to her lips. Slowly lapping up the blood that painted those fingers with how viciously she had gone at it, her ethereal eyes glowed with a simple delight. While a virgin’s blood was no different to any other mortal, there was a certain innocence in the taste, mingled with the woman’s juices across each slender finger. Softly tracing her tongue across each digit, kissing the palm and all but nibbling on the sides to clean it, she continued diligently until the Lady’s hand was clean.
Holding the arm up and tracing her tongue down the woman’s wrist where much of the mess had trickled, the ghoulish elf could even feel the rapid beat of Erys’ heart through her veins. Glancing down at the sleeping woman with those luminous red eyes, it was a wonder she was able to sleep at all with such a quickened heart and shallow breaths. With the contagion satiated, it seemed the frenzy of energy was ebbing out to leave only fatigue for pushing the body so hard.
Looking to help, the elf gently lowered Erys’ arm to rest over her stomach before reaching up to press her thin lips to the human woman’s own, closing them off and filling her mouth with a steadier flow of air amidst a tender kiss. Licking and sucking gently, the elf fed on the embrace, cleaning Erys’ lips as she pressed her hand into the woman’s heaving chest, steadying her heart and soothing her body.
Staring down at the sleeper with those bold and bright eyes, the elf smiled as Erys finally began to calm under her, releasing the gentle kiss to turn her gaze downward. Fixing the woman’s nightgown back up over her breast and shoulder carefully, she continued on to the true prize. Gently parting the unconscious woman’s legs, the elf quietly lowered herself down, basking in the overwhelming scent of blood and juices.
Working her tongue first across the soft thigh, the elf lay practically flat against the soft carpet, holding Erys’ thighs steady as she kissed and worked the warm flesh of its delicious mess. Laid out on her back, the sleeping beauty rested indifferently to the roaming tongue that caressed and cleaned her body, drawing ever closer to the sweet folds at the centre of it all.
“Nnh…” It was only then, as the elf’s hunger found her core, that Erys’ sleeping body began to acknowledge and react to her presence, and only slightly. Not one to be deterred, the elven ghoul only gently pressed down on Erys’ thighs to hold them still as she watched the woman restlessly stir. Gently scooping and lapping her tongue against the reddened folds, the elf indulged in the sweet tastes, suckling and squeezing on the roughly treated mounds with a much kinder touch.
In response, Erys’ body twitched and shifted slightly as that roaming tongue found its way into every nook, subtle gasps escaping the sleeping woman’s lips as she lay restless on the carpet. She would not wake from this amount of stimulation, leaving the ghoul to her sensual feast. Through digging licks and pulling suckles, the ashen elf ate and cleaned, leaving Erys’ body to shiver and sigh out reflexively in slumbering pleasure.
Watching her prey carefully, the elf worked her way to a finish with an intimate and delicate touch, kissing the softened mounds once before pulling the woman’s nightgown down and carrying her to the bed. Tucked in under the rich silk sheet, she seemed at peace, and all the more enchanting for it. She would sleep soundly, now.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, the elf reached out to stroke and settle Erys’ hair out of her eyes as she licked her lips clean, smiling quietly. She could see Mistress’ interest in the woman from here, as pretty as any of the Avghouls. One betrayed by all the world around her, with no home to return to, anymore.
“Es’velar, fair Wynthae.” Leaning in, the elf gently placed a kiss to her forehead before slipping off the bed, gathering up the cloak she had draped over the woman before blowing out the room’s lantern light and silently taking her leave. With the door soundly closed, Erys was left to the comforting peace of rest.
Much more than could be said for many of the mansion’s other residents…
“Ahaha, so she broke herself, did she? Poor thing, it must have gotten pent up with being denied that growing urge for so long, certainly since being carried back in. Thank you for the story, Neira.” Sat in the dark of one of the mansion’s dimly lit basements aside a strap-laden operating table, Eliza’s voice was an unnatural high amongst the muffled dark. Aside her knelt the elven Avghoul Neira, now cloaked as all the others were. Surrounded by the muffled groans of captives in the darkest corners, she had come to deliver her report, though had found only Mistress Eliza.
“Yes… she seemed to be choking for a while, but settled once she reached climax.” Recounting what she had witnessed from the door, the normally towering elf kept her head lowered, daring only to fix her luminous eyes upon Eliza’s idly swinging feet and the human girl bound on her knees at the lich’s side whom already held an unfocused and hazy visage.
“Hmm? Oh, that’s normal.” Eliza explained cheerfully, reaching down to grasp the girl’s hair and pull her head up so she could point and trace a finger up the side of her neck. “On first contact, it’s shown to agitate and put tension on muscles like a fever, pressures her throat enough to restrict breathing.” Surely enough, following Eliza’s gesture, Neira could easily see thick blotches of red around the serving girl’s strained neck. Pursing her lips, the ashen elf turned her gaze away in a simple show of restraint. Had she not recently fed, the temptation to sink into the embossed tendons of the girl’s neck that stood out with each strained breath could have been a struggle.
“From there, it thickens the blood, sending the heart into a panic. Feels like you could float away, right, Anna?” The girl on her knees could only fearfully nod, enough of her mind intact to understand the change was not normal. Eliza only chuckled and released her head, ruffling and patting it affectionately.
“It won’t kill her, if you’re worried about that. The intensity will come and go as it fights through her body, conditioning it into acceptance before rewarding with the simplest and most satisfying release. With every cycle, its hold grows stronger until it has seeded control over body and mind, leaving another ghoul under our command.” Raking her fingers through Anna’s mussy hair, Eliza delighted in the chance to explain some brief points of the design that had brought them to Meirport.
“I see… where is Mistress Lystra?” It was not unlike the pair to be apart, but the kneeling elf had hoped to find the other for this report too, now understanding the Lady’s vested interest in the noble whom had granted them access. Eliza smiled, lifting her foot to press against Neira’s chin, forcing her gaze up along the smooth dusk of her bare leg.
“Curious, hmm? She’s dealing with the man who shot this idiot.” Swinging her hand to slap something on the table, Irena groaned and stirred under the restraints. “I shouldn’t think we’ll see him again, but you’re better off waiting than interrupting her fun, I’d say.” Explaining the situation with a mild tone of caution, Eliza smiled as she pulled her foot up, pressing the toes against Neira’s lips for the Avghoul to kiss in reverence before flicking them up, pressing the sole against the timelessly beautiful elven face.
“Yef, Mifless.” To be muffled against that smooth curve was no reason for the elf to ignore the proper form of things, which happily bemused Eliza. The obedience of others – those physically larger and stronger especially – did always please her greatly. To have the proud and powerful serve a being half their height was a delight, to have the vainglorious broken was something worth unliving for.
“Good. I know you’re no fool but if you’re one to ask, you must miss her. True, it may have been some time since we all shared company but intruding right now may not be the best course.” Pushing her foot against Neira’s face playfully, Eliza moved to stand, waving for the taller elf to rise in kind as she smoothed down the simple garb of her stained operating gown. Giving Irena one last glance over, Eliza sighed and slipped away through the repurposed basement. On a table nearby lay a clutter of alchemical purpose gathered around a single oil-lit flame.
“I know, since you’re at a loss, you can help me out while I patch Irena up. Bring Anna over for me, would you?” Waving back without turning, Eliza checked a number of vials by the light, grinding a mortar and pistil before dashing the fine white dust into a flask that steamed over the flame.
Standing near twice as tall as the busy lich, Neira turned her gaze back to the girl on her knees, noticing a chain dangling from her collared neck. Much like the one Erys sported, this one was not broken, and led to a small leather hoop, hitched to the side of the operating table. Picking it up, Neira gave a testing tug on the leash, expecting the hazy-eyed girl to rise and walk aside her, yet Anna only drug her knees across the floor as she responded to the guidance near autonomously.
Strange. Neira could not decide whether the girl merely chose not to work her legs and crawl as an animal beneath her betters, or if the affliction had disabled the now limp ligaments. The elven Avghoul could no better relate through experience, for none of their turnings had been under the influence of this new contagion.
A crash of glass tore Neira’s thoughts from such concerns, her body moving with an unnatural burst of speed and power before thought had time to flare flared within her mind. With the leash dropped, the fallen Eliza now filled the elf’s arms, curled up and shivering unnaturally. Sheltering her in a cloaked tent of darkness, Neira’s mind caught up to her body’s reflexive action, bringing a burst of panic with it.
“Mistress, what happened?! Are you hurt?” She had fallen, collapsed into a heap that had only been saved from cracking into the hard floor by the Neira’s catch. Shrouded under the elf’s blooming cloak, little more than those vividly glowing eyes showed to Eliza as she tried to steady her ragged breathing and calm down.
“Haagh… Sa’teth’s damned blood I wish she wouldn’t do that when she knows some of us are working… I’m fine, thank you, Neira.” Grumbling under her hoarse breath, Eliza’s assurance came with as much weight as the diminutive lich herself did – which was not much at all. Embarrassingly, Neira then realised that even if Eliza had struck the floor, she was as likely to merely bounce and float back up like a feather. No, that was perhaps too whimsical, and falling damage aside, it did not address just what had caused Mistress to lose herself in the first place. Had fumes from her concoction backfired and damaged her senses?
“You don’t look fine, Mistress…” Still shivering and somewhat short of breath, Eliza only truly looked unwell from her flustered countenance, something that was enough to leave the Avghoul concerned. Eliza’s eyes narrowed as she twisted only a slight smile, reaching up to grab and squeeze the tip of Neira’s knifed ear. Her reaction was as lively as any living elf, for the nerves did not cease to function.
“Aah! M-Mistress, no… why…” Eliza knew just how sensitive the tips of an elf’s ears were. Often considered private places and erogenous zones between lovers, some cultures decorated or covered them in modesty as other races did for breasts and waists. A measure of composure and smugness had returned to Eliza’s smile as she twisted and squeezed on that tip, crippling the overbearing elf.
“Hmm…? What’s the matter, Neira? You don’t look well all of a sudden…” The simple, knowing curl of Eliza’s words was enough to give Neira chills – she knew what she was doing. “Come on, you can speak up if there’s something wrong, loud and clear…” Gritting her teeth against the sharp rush of pleasure being sent directly into her mind through that pointed tip, Neira could only hold tighter to brace against the sensual torture. Speaking of how having such a place touched felt was beyond even Neira’s unliving modesty and comfort, and she knew better than to speak up against her Mistress besides.
As quickly as it had begun, the torment ended on a soft note of laughter.
“You can put me down now, Neira.” Put across in such a belittling tone made the elf feel smaller than the girl relegated to her knees behind them, she unwound her arms from the lich and lowered her head in shame, until she was smaller than Anna.
“Oh, stop that, at least sit up.” Nudging her foot into the elf’s black hair, Eliza crossed her arms and glared down at the prostrating fool with her sharp violet eyes. Leaning back against the table, it was just as well Neira wasn’t watching, giving her a moment to steady those uneven legs and balance before the flustered elf rose to sit, rubbing at her ear with a sorry look about her face.
“Learned your lesson, hmm? Well, I’m sure you meant well but the sea air must have gotten to your head if you think something down here could endanger a homunculus body. No, I’m fine. Lystra thought it a good time to filter a spirit through the phylactery. She knows how debilitating it feels to be touched there… it is not something to speak of, understood?” With her words trailing off, only to bear down as cold daggers for threats, Eliza hugged herself against the gentle aftershocks of feedback tingling through her body. Whilst her body had its own senses, stimulating the anchor of her soul that held the lich in a state of immortality was quite another.
Neira knew those things, and felt ashamed of herself again in retrospect. It truly had been too long they had been away for her to forget how Mistress Eliza functioned in that heartbeat of panic. Mistress Lystra in turn must truly be busy if she was doing that to the little lich from whichever room she occupied. Neira knew better than to press the issue now though, and only lowered her head.
“Well, nevermind that, I’ll have words with Lystra about making me drop vials later. Nothing important broke or hit the floor, so you can bring Anna over, now.” Reminded of her initial task, Neira lit up and nodded, turning and rising on working legs, she was reminded she held that perk over Eliza’s subject of interest, and would prefer to stay that way. Dragging herself across the cold stone obediently, Anna sat on tucked in feet, making Neira stare dubiously once more.
“If you’re curious about something, ask.” A tone drier and lacking patience, Eliza was carefully pouring a viscous white into one of the vials from the heated flask with a long rod for guidance. Following it with drips of other colours and finally a cork to seal the viscous concoction beginning to react and bubble within, the tiny woman looked up to Neira expectantly.
“Ah… well, her legs, Mistress…?” For as awkward as the question may be, its context was easy enough, leaving Eliza to snort a quick laugh and smile.
“Hah, interesting, aren’t they? The symptoms seem to take hold differently in each case, beyond the core detail. Where this Lady Erys may hallucinate into her frenzy, with Anna here, it has taken over her legs. In due time, both will give over to the mindless, carnal frenzy of a ghoul with no treatment…” Treatment seemed the important point from the lich’s smiling lips, and one an Avghoul – preserved from that simple lust – could appreciate. Was that what she had been working on at the table, then?
“The relaxant symptom is simply strengthening its hold on her body in the same way Lady Erys collapsed to the floor and sleep after she took herself to orgasm. There’s nothing wrong with Anna’s legs, but having come to an understanding that her place is to serve beneath me, she needs not stand above, and so may relax her hard-worked body. Here, open.” Checking over the unbroken vial Eliza had been shaking throughout her explanation, the lich uncorked it to let out a thick white haze. Leaning forward and tepidly opening her mouth on command, Anna stared up with that placid, obedient glaze, sticking her tongue out expectantly for the lich standing over her. For all the girl’s mind may have been dulled by the contagion, it seemed a servant’s submission was ingrained into her being.
Tipping the vial from on high, Eliza smiled as the thick liquid poured out, splashing over Anna’s tongue and lips as it filled her inviting mouth. Dashes of it hit the girl’s nose as she shivered and moved her head to swallow, splashing down off her cheek and dribbling down her pulsing neck. The clumsy girl sat with her eyes closed, but Neira doubted she would care if any of it did get in her eyes, and Eliza’s delivery hardly left much room for finesse and care. The whole thing left a mess of Anna’s pale face that seemed intentional, and was soon over.
“There… I’ll need the fool to walk eventually, and I want to keep her mind intact, so that should still and mutate the contagion’s growth without killing it outright.” Scooping a drip of the thick white off Anna’s chin to paste across her welcoming tongue, Eliza explained what she had done to Neira, who nodded thoughtfully. Beneath them, the incapacitated girl’s breath was growing increasingly ragged by the second.
“She will become an Avghoul, then?” It was unlike the way they had been turned and raised, but this whole ordeal was different, leaving Neira full of questions and wonder. Patting Anna’s head as the mixture seeped into her skin and faded away, Eliza hummed thoughtfully.
“Something like that, yes… not quite as dignified as those touched by the ess of Zoltei’ar, she will still be little more than a ghoul to our will, but my work requires assistance more focused than what will come to the masses, and you were quite happy to oblige my offer of employment, weren’t you, Anna?” Smiling down at the sitting girl, Eliza turned back to the table to place the half-emptied vial back in a rack, snuffing out the open flame with a simple wave of her hand. Licking at her lips and struggling to breathe, Anna shook as much as she nodded.
“Nnmh… y-yes, Mistress…” Ah, so she could talk, Neira thought, though of course – if Mistress Eliza intended to keep her in a clear enough state of mind, retaining speech would be expected. Even so, the seeming stages of her transformation was intriguing to the Avghoul.
“Such a good girl, yes… well, now that it’s settling in her, take her through there and give her something to feed on. Take one for yourself if you like, there’s no shortage – thanks to your hard work. Just hook her leash to the wall next to whatever she’s settles on. I still have work to do, especially patching up Irena, so she’s in your hands.” Pointing down the dungeon to a metal door at the far wall, shrouded in a haze of darkness, Eliza was already occupying herself with a thick tome at the far end of the table, flicking through its musty pages. Broken glass yet littered the table and floor, but Neira had already had her reminder to not butt into the lich’s workings. A glass cut would not even register on that unliving body, nor the transient soul that used it.
“Yes, Mistress… thank you.” Tugging gently on Anna’s leash, the girl quickly responded, crawling after the much taller elf with use of all her limbs now. Very curious indeed, but if it proved to facilitate their needs, Neira was content to lead and leave the fine details of Eliza’s medicine to the lich herself. With their Mistress behind them, the closer the pair came to the door they had been waved off to, the more a strange sound tickled Neira’s sensitive ears through it. The door looked thick, with no window or gap in its seal beyond keyhole and hinges, yet an obscene air ebbed from its cracks and seams. One of flesh, that tickled her hunger.
Finally reaching and pulling open the thick door, Neira’s senses were assaulted with the full force of what she had suspected. Guttural moans of both pleasure and agony wafted out of the conjoining chamber, indistinguishable squelches and slaps of skin joining them. In this room without light, the first of their captive subjects – the manor’s prior residents – were kept.
As many men as women occupied the room, chained to the walls, across blocks or free to roam and feast on lust as they pleased. Those so uninhibited were amongst the first and most receptive to the turning, much like Anna beside her. The crawling servant now mewled and panted with a base hunger as her clouded eyes wandered the dark, able to see as clearly as the elf through what little light filled the room.
Taking up a burst of initiative, it was Anna’s turn to pull on the leash, snapping Neira out of the stunned daze she’d fallen in on seeing the room first hand. It had not been a full night and yet their foothold within the mansion was so firmly set. She and her sisters had worked hard to gather the residents before any might escape, but to see the first seeds of progress sewn so readily was impressive.
Moving into the room on the leash’s eager guidance, Neira couldn’t help but admire the carnal array to surround her. Those freed held the same unliving light in their eyes that her sisters and Anna was growing to hold, each greedily bearing down on those still bound with their lust.
Some sat at the crotch of the one bound, fighting for room to lap and slurp at all the other had to offer. Others held them up, one girl’s ankles even touched her wrists with how she was pinned up and ravaged by a considerably muscular man. Neira hadn’t met him.
Those bound were not all resistant to the attention, as often bucking and grinding back against the assault under wailing moans of bliss as they too were taken and turned by the grip of lust turning their minds, but they had not been freed. Whilst many of those whom had took to the easy prey offered up to them, some took to one another in where ever there was room to.
Ignoring them all, it was a fresher body Anna was focused on moving towards. A man bound and masked at the back of the room, his arms high above his head and legs spread wide in iron that bolted him to the wall. Aside for those restraints and mask, he stood naked before them, struggling uselessly in the bondage as the decadent cacophony washed over him.
He seemed familiar, though Neira could not place it with the mask over his face, and any would look familiar after a night of rounding up the mansion’s residents. Putting it out of her mind, the elf was shocked as the leash yanked her with force, righting herself and reigning back to leave the ravenous Anna’s mouth inches from his half-erected cock. She would not be goaded and dragged around by a mere ghoul not even fully turned, even if it was Mistress Eliza’s new pet.
“Tch, this the one you want? Where’s your manners? I know you can speak…” Flustered at being so unbalanced by the lowly servant, Neira yanked back on the leash, moving a foot forward to press and rub her boot between Anna’s bent legs. That earned a whining mewl as the single-minded servant squirmed and struggled against her leash, pushing firmly at the leather boot.
“Ngah… yes, him… pah… please.” Ignoring how she was choking herself on the collar, Anna tugged and pulled incessantly, the scent of a ripe, free man likely going straight to her head and sending her into a frenzy. Neira clucked her tongue and smiled a touch, pulling her boot back and slacking the leash.
“That’s better…” Satisfied with the girl’s obedience, Neira stepped forward, freeing Anna to lunge the rest of the way down against his crotch. Watching her go at him was a sight to behold – with no aid of her hands, Anna had twisted her tongue around and pulled the man’s cock into her eager maw within a single fluid motion, sucking greedily enough to thicken it, pulling blood pressure and arousal into him.
Even standing aside the ghoul, hitching her leash to the wall, Neira could see the girth at the base of his shaft pulsing and growing with each lurid slurp. Painfully aware of Anna’s presence, the man only redoubled his struggling, groaning out as his cock repeatedly bulged out the girl’s cheeks and nudged the back of her throat with each erratic motion.
Pressing one hand against his thigh to stop him struggling so much Anna grabbed his balls firmly with the other as if to squeeze the cum out of them as she worked, lidding and closing her viscerally glowing eyes to savour her feast. Sat on her knees before him, the girl had completely forgotten Neira existed. Instead, she focused solely on savouring each little crevice and ridge around her tongue ran free to explore and find, suckling and drinking in his taste hungrily whilst her fingers rolled and squeezed on his balls feverishly.
Well, better to leave her to it then. Leashed to his side like the animal she’d become again, Anna was not going to be going anywhere regardless, and attempting to pull her off now would as likely injure the man who stood as her station for service. Putting that aside, Eliza’s torment had stoked the hunger in Neira, and the next man along had peaked the elf’s curiosity with that sense of familiarity Anna must have sensed in the one she now pushed down her throat. He too was free, ripe for the taking and hooded in much the same way as all along the wall were.
Walking over to him and stroking her fingers across his chest, Neira wondered if she might pin whom he was without taking the cowl off his head. A slender, broad chest passed under her gentle fingers, raking up to a refined collar and neck line that quickly vanished into the dark hood.
Yes, she could recall capturing a young man with such physique, leaving the ghoulish elf to smile darkly as her eyes and fingers wandered back down his naked body. She hadn’t had the opportunity to see him like this, but when he had tried to ambush her from behind a door, she’d gotten a good feel of his body when she twisted and wrested him to the ground.
“Oh, I know you…” Gently curling her fingers around his shaft to slowly squeeze and stroke, Neira leant in against him as she whispered in that husky tone. Her other hand caressed his thigh and side as he shivered and muffled a weak groan through the masking hood. He may not recognise her the same way, but there was no doubt. This body was one she had captured personally. A much more thorough feel of him as a reward for her work was long overdue, now.
“Shh… don’t be afraid, you’ll be taken good care of.” Continuing to pour her sweet words into his ear, at least letting him know a more stable mind than those around him had come, Neira left the mask on him to keep the senses he didn’t need dull, the ones she was toying with sharp. To see him squirm in the bondage this way as all the sweeter for how brave he’d previously tried to seem. Those slender elven fingers slid delicately across his thickening shaft, dancing lightly over the sensitive tip as he came to attention.
“See, that’s better…” Given the right nudge, he was as helpless to the ghoulish hunger overtaking his mind as all the others. To have the feel of his warmth and pulsing life in her hands was a simple delight that could only be found in the flesh, and something Neira desired more of as her own hunger descended upon him. Glancing over to Anna’s vicious suckling and kneading, Neira decided to begin in the same vein – if with much more finesse and control.
Sliding down to sit alongside her ghoulish sister before the bound man, Neira had a much better view of that throbbing girth her fingers teased and toyed with. Leaving him to squirm and struggle in the bondage, Neira focused on that throbbing length alone, the rest of his being no longer relevant. The simple yet overwhelming scent of him was already tickling her sensitive nose and getting into her head enough to fan the fire, leaving her eyes to flash and glow bright with hunger in the dark.
Neira had much more control over her greed than the one aside her, however, and merely licked her tongue out along the underside in a slow, testing draw as she tidied strands of her long black back over the long ridge of her elven ear with her free hand. The man’s hips bucked once, though Neira already doubted it was any longer in a show of resistance, smiling quietly as she squeezed down on the base, rubbing her thumb along the underside as she held him upright. She’d make him feel it, and enjoy taking her time with satisfying her desires – he wasn’t going anywhere anyway.
Aside her, Anna was not quite so certain hers would not somehow get away. Her grip held tight, kneading on his balls as she firmly pressed the man back into the wall. Barely any sound of resistance flowed from her gorged throat as she bobbed her head down on the hard length with a constant, fluid rhythm. Neira had to wonder, as she flicked her tongue against the underside of her own prize, exactly what drove Anna’s frenzy. Was it from keeping her own mind – bridging a human longing with unbridled freedom – or was this was simply a show of the contagion’s power over the humans.
Perhaps it was merely a more progressed stage, and those unburdened would eventually become even more ferocious in their desires, little more than servant husks to their Mistresses’ will. What an interesting thing to see unfurl over this city, Neira thought, as she closed her smooth, elven lips down around the head of the cock she’d been toying with, sucking it slowly into her mouth as she returned her focus solely to her own pleasure for the time being.
The sound of his strained groans as her supple kiss ran down the shaft filled her pointed ears with a sweet music, leaving her to wriggle her pallid tongue playfully and squeeze on him with gentle swallowing motions to wring more of it out. The bittersweet taste of him filling her mouth as that warmth seeped into her cold lips was a thing to savour, soothing Neira’s hunger as it trickled down her throat, filling her being with the sweet warmth of life.
Gently sliding her fingers down the shaft to press into the firm base of his crotch and lidding her eyes down, she could get lost in enjoying this moment. Everything, from the pulsing beat of his heart that raced through his veins to the heady sharpness of the taste that could only come from down here filled the elven ghoul with a sense of satisfaction. The feel of it urged her to drag him deeper into her mouth, sliding her soft lips back and forth to make the passage slicker and smoother for him.
Before long, a good half of his throbbing shaft glistened in the dark under her luminous gaze. Neira’s technique left each plunge to glide softly through her mouth that gripped, sucked and drained the boy’s resistance while filling her with that satisfyingly masculine taste. It was only when the back of her throat pinched and pressed down on his tip that she stopped, eyes fluttering back into focus.
Her nose was almost touching his crotch, the pulsing girth filling her mouth to the brim wonderfully. Angling and tilting her head back to look up at how he’d stopped struggling to simply languish in the pleasure she gave, Neira squeezed on the length with all her mouth before slowly pulling back. With precum spattering over her tongue, that bitter musk filled her mouth to watering, but she could show much more restraint than Anna.
Pulling off with a soft gasp left strands of saliva on the now fully erected shaft before Neira’s glowing eyes. Giving Anna one last cursory glance showed a completely different scene, her hands now hugging around her prey’s waist and reaching up behind the balls. Neira could see one hand firmly grabbing his ass cheek, and knew just where the other was for the pumping motion her arm was vigorously working. It seemed she had at least enough presence of mind to know how to work his body for more.
It reminded Neira of Lady Erys’ frenzy, if directed onto another. She could admire the charm in it, Anna would certainly be rewarded with more than she, but something more refined suited her needs, right now. Turning her gaze back to the boy before her, Neira rose, gently rubbing his slick member against her leather-clad thigh as she loomed over him from on high. He could not see, but even with a crooked knee and bowed head, the slender elf stood a good head taller than the boy chained to the wall for her convenience.
The return of stimulation left him to shiver and groan through the mask, but the ashen Neira only smiled down at his helpless situation. Coiling an arm around his neck to grab his head, pulling it aside, Neira brushed her lips against where his ear would be. Incessantly teasing his shaft with those delicate elven fingers, she whispered in the husky tone that spoke as clearly of her own needs as tormenting and denying his.
“You want it, don’t you? All the way inside, all around you…” It was all he could do to groan and nod vigorously through the masking hood, leaving Neira to laugh softly in his ear. Curling a slender leg around his waist to trace down the back of his thigh, the wicked elf licked her lips to savour the texture and taste she’d been enjoying as her fingers traced up and down that desperate shaft.
“What if I don’t… I could just leave you here.” A vigorous shaking of the head and pleading groan met another soft chuckle. “You’ll make it good for me too then, won’t you?” A much more agreeable nodding, his only struggle was to get more of her attention on his twitching girth, now. Smirking contently, Neira shifted her hips, guiding him as much with her fingers as the leg hooked around his waist towards the crutch of her leather leggings where the overlapping folds could part way for a secret little pocket. A nudge left and right was all it took for him to be guided past that stiff wall of leathery resistance, the much softer kiss of her mounds greeting the tip of him.
“Haah, right there, feel it? So close… hnn, so big…” Wriggling against it and teasing the boy with gently pressing her hips down on it just a little, caressing it with her gently giving folds, Neira gasped and breathed sultry moans into his ear. Knowing he could neither see nor act to push deeper, she was free to play with his senses as much as she wished, grinning at how he moaned and squirmed in the bondage so desperately.
Gently adjusting her position, the tall elf was able to place the leg she’d hooked around his waist back on the ground, giving her a note of stability to raise the other. Lifting and hooking the other around his waist to focus her centre on him, the nimble Avghoul held her arm around his neck for balance as she steadied, lowering her weight into her hips. More restrained than Anna as she may be, there were limits to patience even for the unliving elf, and toying with him had warmed her up to the hunger more than enough.
“I’m putting it in.” Whispered in that husky tone, the warning was near as good as the soft squelch of those lips wrapping around his agonised length in one smooth plunge down, the filling penetration finally giving Neira what she desired. Gasping in delight as her hips smacked straight down to the base, Neira squeezed on his thighs with her entwined legs, putting both arms around his neck for support as she snuggled in, all but held in place by that rod of blissful heat at her core.
Not to be outdone or let his bindings hold him back any longer, her lustful captive sprang to life, jutting and thrusting his hips forward to spear and shove deeper into her, smacking against Neira’s crotch as he moaned through the hood. His eager thrust shook the all but hanging elf, pushing the air from her lungs in a quick gasp of pleasure as she laughed and clung tighter around him.
“Haah! That’s right, go wild and lose control…” Adjusting his own weight and presence in the bondage to better buck and push his hips into the elf now wrapped around him, it seemed he needed little in way of encouragement. Pulling on the shackles and squirming to get a better footing, Neira’s captive partner bucked his hips up and forward hard, the slick sensation of those walls sliding and squeezing all around his shaft driving him into a lustful frenzy.
Simply riding his newfound passion with sharp gasps of delight, Neira tightened her grip on him greedily. She’d needed this relief more than she had realised. The simple moment of torment Eliza had put her through had served as just enough to take her to the edge, but she hadn’t expected his thrusts to rock her so firmly. Crossing her legs behind his back high enough to lift her feet off the ground, Neira danced and bounced lightly with each insatiable lunge up into her, letting herself go wild in kind.
“Aah, hah, you can do better… give it to me, everything!” Left to her their own little world in the dark corner of the dungeon room, the squelching slaps, creaks of leather and whines of chain intermingled with all those that surrounded them, just as blissfully unaware of anything around them.
Herein was a room for nothing more than freely indulging the carnal hunger blooming from all these planted seeds. Hung suspended on the boy’s body, Neira was sustained only by the constant motion of his own mindless fucking amongst them, and as her world started to turn blank, it was bringing her close.
Unwilling to let it end just yet, the ghoulish elf vented the sensual pressure welling in her body with louder moans, sharper gasps and a tighter grip on her captive. He could neither touch nor see her, but she wouldn’t be beaten in this. Resisting the urge to lose her mind to the pleasure and reach her climax first, Neira flexed her limber legs with each thrust, pulling him back into her faster and harder as she slammed her hips down with all her hanging weight.
Even half a breath’s relaxation to feel that throbbing girth rib and drag out across her folds was snapped back with an equally rapid plunge down. It was maddening how endless his stamina seemed to be, for even bound with his other senses dulled, he was managing to match her every lunge and thrust for passion and hunger alike. Anna aside them watched out the corner of her eye in awe as her cheek bulged with each slurping bob of the head she took, content to drain her feeding choice from on her knees.
For all the man so firmly in Neira’s grip may have had in raw power – his thick cock pounding against her womb with a force that put flutters in her clenching stomach – she yet held the prowess of control over him. She could feel his every thrust and pulsing beat growing more erratic and urgent, drawing closer to that inescapable edge she would feel rush into her before taking her own numbing climax. Staring down at his hooded visage with a burning light in her luminous eyes, Neira all but growled her words.
“Hnn, do it, all of it… now!” Obeying her command was all the bound man could do, tensing and screaming through the gag and hood that masked and silenced him into guttural moans, his back arcing off the stone wall as he pumped all his pent up worth into her being.
Feeling those hot jolts lash against her womb was exactly what Neira had waited and held back for, the prickling bites of pleasure forcing her to quivering shakes of bliss far more rewarding for the restraint. Clenching and hugging around him tighter still, strangled mewls seeped from her throat as her whole body quaked in relief. Around them, the depraved dungeon continued as though nothing had happened, yet time all but halted for Neira in that moment, leaving her to float in the pure white glow of her climax.
She understood, now. This fantastical moment, the breathless sensation that floated through the release of such carnal power was what Mistress wished to bring to the city above. To bind them all to that wonder they could never experience without Her guidance, free from prejudice or difference. All would be one, joined in the flesh under Her unliving gaze. Loyalty would be its own reward for the subjects of Queen Lystra Doreth’s kingdom.
“Wonderful…” Breathing out her reverence in a hushed whisper, Neira slowly began to unwind her legs, gently pulling back and off his yet twitching cock. Slipping free, that magical pocket of leather closed back up, covering her sex and squeezing back down on it snuggly. Reaching down to tug and smooth the folds out properly, that content sense of fullness and warmth would not be escaping her body at all, now.
Stood on those unsteady legs, Neira brushed the long raven hair from her face and back over her pointed ear as she looked him over once more. Pulling on the drawstring of his hood to yank it up to rest over the bridge of his nose, he looked good this way, she thought. With it there, Neira yanked out the ball of cloth blocking his mouth, leaning in to seal his lips with her own instead, her tongue sliding into his mouth aggressively.
Bound as he was, it was all the boy could do to moan into the embrace softly in surprise, squirming in the binds that held him to the wall enough to rub his crotch against the smooth leather of Neira’s thigh. Closing her eyes to enjoy the simple taste of his lips as her tongue twisted around and teased his own, she ignored the press of his body down there and suckled softly on the kiss.
Even caressing his smooth cheek affectionately as she held the kiss, Neira rubbed her softly curved nose against his own. The subtle motion gently lifted the hood until he could almost see before lowering back down on the natural struggle of their lips against one another. Drinking in this simple embrace sated the last of the ghoulish elf’s hunger, and eased her down from the quivering peak into a much more relaxed satisfaction.
“Mmh, good boy…” He had done very well, and she could already taste the Mistress’ grip tightening on his body and mind. The mansion was theirs – free from the duplicity and corruption of mortal greed – and soon the city would follow, breaking its people from the confines of wrath and pride alike.
Well, that would come in time. For now, there were tasks to attend. Pulling away from the boy’s lips with a satisfied sigh, Neira let the hood slip back off his nose and down over his face, leaving him as he was. Looking to Anna, the turning servant seemed happy to torment and suck on the man who’d already plastered her cheeks and chin with the white of his cum, and Neira had no will to wrench her away.
From how he squirmed and groaned, she doubted he had much more to give, now. Well, the chain was long enough that Anna could reach the boy if she was not satisfied, for he still stood hard and ready for another round. Leaning down to simply pat and ruffle the ghoul’s hair, Neira left Anna to her feast, tethered to the wall between the two as she was, and exited the dark holding chamber.
Back in the basement proper, Eliza was focusing intently on the bloodied mess of Irena’s chest, metal clamps holding the wound open so the lich could poke and prod around inside with bloodied tweezers and scalpels. Finally pulling the shot out with a triumphant bark, Eliza dumped the shot in a tray before glancing up to greet Neira through a pair of thick, blood-stained goggles.
“Hah! Well now, you and Anna enjoyed yourselves, hm?” The goggles gave the diminutive lich a bemusing look, their lenses distorting her already corrupted dark violet eyes. That the blood marked her face freshly only made the visage worse. It was all Neira could do to smile and nod, averting her gaze back to the door she had closed behind her.
“Yes, thank you, Mistress. Anna is… seems to still be hungry, it’s alright to leave her?” Clapping her hands and wiping them off on the apron she wore, Eliza was walking between tables to pick out another vial of some white substance as she replied. Nodding assuringly, she waved off the concern as she came back to Irena’s body, strapped down to the operating table from head to toe.
“Oh, yes, yes! I’ll kick her out when she’s had enough but there’s no harm. The more she reinforces the contagion while keeping presence of mind, the better she’ll turn out anyway.” Assured of her methods, Eliza split her focus between Neira and her patient effortlessly, dribbling that white fluid from its vial down a metal rod and directly into the wound, causing Irena to scream into the gagging strap that covered her face, ankles drumming the table violently from beyond the final strap.
The fact that Irena was conscious through her surgery did not bother Neira near as much as that the substance was the first animated reaction to come from her since having taken the shot in the first place. The sight of it left Neira to shy and press her lips despite herself. Effortlessly adjusting her position around the futile jerking her patient made under the binding straps, Eliza only sighed and shook her head.
“Ah stop complaining, it was your own damn fault, so you get to play test subject. See, it’s already healing, right?” Neira had no idea what the lich was speaking of, but somehow dreaded she would come under a similar treatment if she remained for too long. Looking to make a quiet departure and leave the frightening Mistress to her work only seemed to backfire, for as though she could sense the unease in the air, Eliza quickly looked up to the ashen elf through those distorted eyes, snapping her fingers and pointing.
“You! Yes… hah, you should see your face, Neira. No, don’t worry, I’m not going to cut the rest of you open or add anything. It’s too late for you girls to go out and mingle in the town tonight anyway, I’m just giving Irena a little experimental boost. If it sets fire to the pain first, well, that’s just her punishment. Go relax with the others, Lystra will be putting everything in motion soon enough.” Wiping her hands off again, Eliza was already threading a stitching needle and plucking out the clamps from Irena’s chest as she dismissed Neira, turning her attention back fully to the shrunken wound.
Happy to oblige, Neira excused herself on quick and silent elven feet, leaving her sister to be stitched up and tended to by the vastly more experienced lich, and await the next step. The first night may have found success, but only diligence would see the city brought to kneel before its one true Queen, now.
All would come, in time.