Oryndoll Thrall Collection

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/49924444.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: Gen, Multi, F/F, F/M, M/M
Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Relationships: humanoids/illithids, original human character/original illithid character,
Original Dungeons & Dragons Character(s)/Original Tiefling
Character(s)
Characters: You, Illithid | Mind Flayer Characters (Dungeons & Dragons), Original
Half-Orc Character(s) (Dungeons & Dragons), Original Tiefling
Character(s) (Dungeons & Dragons), Original human
Additional Tags: squidfucking, mindflayers, Illithids, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, headpats!,
illithid headpats!, tentacle kisses!, Spanking, BDSM, Orgasm Denial,
tiefling horn grabbing, ulitharid dommy mommy, Dream Sex, BGC (BIG
GREEN COCK), GOOD AND CHEAP, Hot Thrall on Thrall Action,
Tentacle Job, Holding Hands, Slutty Outfits, Sigmund Freud is rolling in
his grave and ranting about penis envy, illithid learns about kissing,
sloppy tentacle sucking, From Sex to Love, instant loss 2koma but with
squids, Erotic Dominance Tournament, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleeping
Together, subby squid/dom gnome wife, awkward squid nerd falls in
love, goth wizard gf, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Bathing/Washing,
Hurt/Comfort, True Love, Gay Wizard, Mistakes Into Miracles, BegONE
THOT, buff illithid, Safewords, Goblins, tsundere goblin, Consentacles,
PLAP PLAP PLAP GET PREGNANT, lip envy, Kissing, a pimp named
slisskbax, Sleepy Cuddles, Blushing, Bullying, The tentacle equivalent of
cock & ball torture, Spooky, construct sex, Rough Sex, Now there are
TWO gay wizards, Spells & Enchantments, Dallimeze loves his wife,
Kinky and Sweet, Hentai Half-Orc, Mating Press, Crying, Unthralled,
Cloaca
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-09-07 Updated: 2024-03-28 Words: 332,669 Chapters:
120/?
 Oryndoll Thrall Collection
by Squid_Fuker1

Summary

A growing collection of stories about fornicating with illithids, usually (but won't always be)
set within Oryndoll.
The link contains an index of characters and the chapters they are featured in, in case you
want to follow a particular timeline!
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1MewXspNk6l9SSXJyz56XhsSHd1AxOmM5VNLb_
WDsaKg/edit?usp=sharing
 The Breeding Pen

Today was your favorite day! Breeding day! You started your morning eagerly doing your
chores for your master, Zusrall. Your illithid master glides into the room, seating himself for
breakfast as you bring them their meal. A plate of eggs and brains. You are patient, eating
your own meal quietly while waiting for Zusrall to finish. He can sense your excitement for
the day’s events. You are a human thrall in Oryndoll.

“I have a special surprise for you when we get to the Breeding Pen.” Zusrall’s deep psionic
voice rings temptingly in your mind. Your perk to attention and the small grin on your face
finds itself widening. You know he’s not going to tell you, but you’ve enjoyed all your
master’s other surprises thus far. You wonder what it could be. Maybe he’s finally convinced
Erux to let you have fun with their prize thrall. “You’re not missing out. You don’t even know
that thrall’s name. Erux breeds poor stock anyway.” Your master intrudes into your thoughts.

You chuckle softly out of embarrassment. “Sorry. It’s safe to assume the surprise isn’t that
then… I’ll try not to bother you about that anymore.” You apologize to Zusrall. The illithid
stands from his breakfast, having finished his plate. He gets your leash and collar out of their
storage nook. “Come.” Your master commands. Without hesitation, you move closer to
Zusrall. He gingerly clasps the collar around your neck. “I assure you, after today you won’t
be thinking about that thrall anymore. I have something far better for you.” Zusrall teased.
“No way! Did you get a prize tiefling thrall?!” You ask, getting even more excited. A
laughter resounds in your mind. “Not quite. I think I did even better.” Your master teases.
You wonder what could be even better than that… Your master seems amused by your
curiosity.

Soon your questions would finally have answers when you approach The Breeding Pen. It
was good and cheap for it’s illithid customers. It was free motivation for you. While the
breeding pen does have private rooms for more shy thralls, there is a decent orgy going on in
the main breeding area. There was even a drow woman being bred by human men. Any
thoughts of worshiping Lolth have since been stripped away. As you stare at the scene before
you, feeling more aroused by the moment, Zusrall tugs at your leash to pull you forward. You
are snapped back to attention by the cold iron lightly pressing against your neck. “Come. I
have a far better place than the main pen today.” Your master tells you. You watch your
master curiously as he starts leading you to a dimly lit room. His tendrils writhe in
excitement. Your master’s surprise for you must be very special indeed.

Your eyes scan the faces in the room. There were three of them. All of them were illithids and
acquaintances your master knew. If memory serves you right, their names were Vizaness,
Thesrassk, and Dallimeze. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, my dear thrall, we’re going
to be the ones pleasuring you. You’ve been so good and obedient, I think you deserve a
special reward. A few… Associates of mine wished to accompany me and I simply couldn’t
deny sharing with such good allies.” Zusrall explains. You feel your face flush. You’ve
thought about how your pleasure pleases him since your first trip to The Breeding Pen. You
feel them all probing your mind for a reaction. All of them could sense your answer: Desire.
The desire to please. You also feel a certain shyness. Your cheeks feel hot as you wonder
what will happen next.

Zusrall slowly pulls off your loose robes, as if unwrapping a gift in a careful manner. Then
they are unceremoniously dropped to the floor. When given silent psionic permission, the
others approach. You flash a shy and nervous smile to Vizaness. “So cute…” An almost
feminine voice enters your mind. Vizaness cups your chin with a tentacle. You shiver from
the feeling of Thesrassk’s nails running down your back. “They’re so eager to submit from
just a touch. You’ve gained a fine thrall, Zusrall.” Thesrassk compliments. Dallimeze’s hand
trails down your chest as one of their tentacles caresses your cheek. “I sense this one has
much to offer…”

Your master removes your leash and collar. “On your knees.” Zusrall’s command is the
loudest in your mind above all the other’s voices. You obey without hesitation. You feel
beneath you a soft pad of moss, keeping your knees safe from the hard stone floors.Your
master’s fingertips brush through your hair and across your neck. You close your eyes in bliss
at Zusrall’s touch. They gather a handful of your hair with a calculated, gentle precision and
push your head down. You are bending over, kneeling at their mercy. Your master’s tentacles
and fingertips trail down your entire body which ends with their hands giving a firm squeeze
to your hips. Your master’s touch leaves you wanting more. Zusrall sits upon a nearby chair,
making you kneel before him. “You are a perfect thrall, and I enjoy seeing you kneel before
us.”

Soon you are overtaken by the sensation of several hands and tentacles, slowly exploring
every inch of you. Your mind is slowly getting hazy as your mind is assaulted by lewd
thoughts. “Cute.” “There’s a good spot.” “So obedient…I wonder what will happen if I do
this?” You begin to feel them growing ever bolder. You aren’t sure who is touching what
anymore as you feel a tentacle rubbing between your legs. You feel a jolt of pleasure as you
give into the feeling, looking up at your master with awe and a desire for approval. You
swear you heard a soft moan from him. “Oh yes… Right there.” You begin letting out soft
moans yourself. The thoughts of having sex with humanoid thralls slowly began to fade from
your mind. You needed this. You craved it all along.

As if reacting to your mental confession, the tentacles begin entering you. You grab at your
master’s ankle for anything to hold onto. A mental force beyond your control keeps you
pinned to the floor, yet you have no desire to resist it. The feeling of being trapped only
increases your arousal. You feel an urge to put Zusrall’s tentacle in your mouth. Your master
decides to indulge this urge. The scent of vanilla and garlic fills your nostrils as the tentacle
slowly pushes its way into your mouth. You are soon lost in a world of pleasure. Where one
thought ends and another begins, you can no longer be sure. The illithids themselves seem to
be getting lost in the sensation as well. You begin to shiver and squirm, desperately trying to
drive the tentacles deeper into you. They oblige your every desire, working to bring you
closer to your climax. Zusrall’s eyes roll back. Your mind is bombarded with praise as you
entertain your master and his guests.

Perhaps you merely imagined it, but you swore you could sense them turning shivering and
squirming with you. The thought that you could pleasure anyone with nothing but your raw
emotion had never occurred to you until now. Humanoid partners would never feel the same
again. It felt like one big feedback loop of pleasure which only continued to build. ”Right
there. Don’t stop… Almost there!!” You mentally beg. You hold as still as best you can. Your
voice strains as your entire body trembles. “I’m gonna…!” You whimper, unable to finish
your sentence as you cry out, pleasure washing over you. You’re completely overwhelmed,
writhing against the floor as tentacles suddenly pull themselves from you. You are all in a
pleasured daze. “Thank you, master. This was the best gift I’ve ever received…” You express
your gratitude. “Only the best for my favored thrall.”

Your body shimmers slightly in the dim lighting, covered in illithid slime. You smelled like
them. Your master brings you up to your feet and softly cups his hand under your chin. “Look
at you… You got yourself all dirty.” Zusrall playfully scolds you. You are brought to another
room where two other thralls gently clean you with warm and soapy water. You get dressed
in your loose and revealing robes once more.

There’s a big smile on your face as your master once again puts the collar around your neck.
The smile never left your face as you walk back to your master’s home with him, the
thoughts of what occurred can’t help but replay in your mind. You catch yourself wondering
if you’ll do it again. To which your curiosity is met with “Perhaps we shall do this again, my
favored thrall…”
 Sanctuary
Chapter Summary

Perhaps a smidge shorter than the last story. I hope it's as entertaining to read as it was to
write.

You spend all your time with your illithid master, Addanil. You open doors for him, pick up
items of interest to him, clear his path for him, compliment him on a regular basis. You do all
manner of menial tasks for Addanil. He was so gracious to take you into his dwelling when
your last master was slain by adventurers. Your heroic deed of being able to escape with poor
Yorix’s brain and return it to the Elder Brain was so commendable it caught the attention of a
rather well to do member of the colony, and that happened to be Addanil. You are a personal
thrall in Oryndoll.

You have your own room. Everything in it was provided by Addanil. All you could need or
want was in this room. It was your sanctuary, a place to be alone when Addanil had no need
of you. A comfortable moss mattress was close to a wall. You were given a nice quantity of
soft moss pillows. Your blanket was made from a material found on the surface world. You
think Addanil called it “cotton.” Bundles of dry rations hang low from the ceiling. Addanil
provided a generous assortment of Rothe cheese, Rothe sausages, and ripplebark. Your basin
of drinking water was kept clean and fresh. You have a few changes of clothes, painting
supplies and various curios your master has collected for you as gifts. Most importantly, your
sanctuary had privacy. You could unwind and your master rarely bothered you, leaving you to
your own devices.

You decide you’ll take advantage of the privacy you have and enjoy your own company, if
only for a couple minutes. You take off your clothes, letting them fall to the floor. Gathering
the pillows to brace yourself against the wall, you take a comfortable position. Touching
yourself sensually, you sigh pleasurably as you move your hand to your nether regions. You
begin to pleasure yourself. You never really thought about why you do this, and you don’t
think about much during the act. You’ve always focused solely on the feeling, knowing it
would feel good. You cover your mouth to keep your voice down. Your eyes close as you let
yourself relax even further. You then feel a familiar presence in your mind.

Your eyes shoot open. You never even heard your door open. Addanil is staring at you. You
gasp, grabbing for your blanket to cover yourself. “I-I’m sorry, Addanil.” You mutter,
completely embarrassed at the state your master has caught you in. “I’ll make myself
decent.” Your voice is tinged with shame. "Fear not. You are not being reprimanded. I find
your behavior... Intriguing. I would like to observe this activity." Addanil was such an
analytical being. “You want to watch me?” You ask, taking a deep breath to steel your nerves.
“Yes. Continue…” Addanil commands.

You slowly remove the blanket from your body and lean back once again to attempt to
pleasure yourself. You start to have difficulty relaxing. The pressure to perform for your
master starts to creep to the forefront of your mind. “Does my presence make you…
Uneasy?” Addanil asks. You snap out of your own thoughts. “No, master! Not at all! I’m
just… Shy…” You admitted. Addanil strokes his tentacles thoughtfully. “Shall I assist you?”
He asks. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“That would be very generous of you.” You reply to him. “Lay on your stomach for me.”
Your master instructs. You get comfortable, getting a pillow to prop your head on. You feel
his hand upon your back, slowly rubbing. You tense at first, but soon the edge starts to get
taken off. His other hand rubs your head. You find yourself smiling softly. “That’s it…
Relax… That’s a good thrall.”

Your master’s praise echoes in your mind. Good thrall… Your mind begins to wander. With
your wandering mind, Addanil’s hand wanders lower. “Turn over. I wish to see your face.”
Your master commands. Feeling newly relaxed, you turn over and lay on your back. You
spread your legs. Addanil carefully brings himself between them. They begin to stimulate
you with their hand. “O-oh…” You groan softly. Your legs tense and tremble. You find
yourself staring at the stone ceiling of your room.

“ Hnnnh… A fascinating response…” Your master let out a low growl of pleasure. You
quickly realize he can feel what you feel. This knowledge fills you with excitement. “So that
glass tentacle sculpture on my desk? It’s more than just an art piece…” You made another
confession followed by a soft laugh. Addanil reads your mind to see what you were getting
at. “I hope you clean it regularly.” Addanil shakes his head. “Does it produce a similar
sensation…?” He asks. You realize that your master wants to go even further with this. Who
were you to deny him?

“It’s different, but it feels very good when I’m in the mood for it. Would you like to try it?”
You offer, looking at your master with a soft and trusting smile. Addanil considers your offer
silently. You soon have your answer as their tentacles begin to caress your chest and waist.
You moan softly as his hands continue their work on your lower regions. You close your
eyes, once again fully relaxed. Your pleasure is becoming his pleasure. You share every raw
emotion with him like never before. You feel yourself being entered and you let out a louder
moan. "So thick...! So good!" You squeak, trembling against him. Addanil struggles to pull
the sash off of his robes and stuffs it into your mouth after balling the fabric up. “Shush… We
have neighbors.” Your master softly scolds.

“Mmph! Mmm…” You nod in understanding and moan into the fabric. You want more. You
both need more. You grip the sheets and move your hips against your master’s tentacles. You
grow ever eager to please as you start to work towards your climax. One of Addanil’s
tentacles lightly yet firmly wraps around your neck, pushing your head forward at the base of
your scalp. You’re being forced to look at him. You let out a muffled and long moan,
obediently holding the balled up fabric in your mouth. The moans between the two of you
become more frequent, and emotions flow like liquid within a bottle that is begging for
release. Your voice strains and your eyes roll back. Just a bit more…

As your orgasm washes over you both, Addanil gasps and his tentacles pull away quickly. He
makes a higher pitched gurgling cry he never expected to make. You giggle at his reaction.
“That was a cute noise…” You chuckle after pulling the makeshift gag out of your mouth.
“Oh hush, you… You will mention that to no one.” Addanil tells you, squishing your cheeks
as he looks into your eyes. "I understand. My lips are sealed." You agree. “I didn’t see what
the fuss behind The Breeding Pen was until now… However, I think that I want to keep this to
myself.” It seems as if he didn’t want to share you with anyone. It made you feel… Special.

Your master pats your head. “You are so generous to me, master.” You compliment him as
you lean into his touch. A big smile is on your face until his hand leaves you. “You may now
clean yourself. Please enjoy the rest of your ‘off’ hours. I must contemplate this further.”
Addanil slowly exits your room. You stare at the ceiling as you process what just happened.
You are once again left alone in your sanctuary. For some reason it started to feel empty…
 And They Were Roommates
Chapter Summary

A wizard in Waterdeep found her roommate in the sewers. Cannabis fueled sex ensues.

This one's quite different from the previous two chapters. I had actually been debating
about whether or not to post this as it's own standalone story, but I think I'll just throw it
in with the others to test the waters. It's quite clear that the human in this story is in
charge.

Geddask lives a rather strange life. The dwelling was cool and dark. The furniture in the
illithid artificer’s room and workshop were a combination of pieces gifted to them and
created for them with a Fabricate spell. The walls were plastered with sigils and diagrams to
learn from and study. They were free to work on whatever projects they wished, provided
they could work to afford it. No elder brain would judge their undeclared courses of studying
the arcane. Even the short outings in which the illithid was polymorphed into the form of an
unassuming cat or donning a plague doctor-like disguise that covered their body, referred to
as “a friend” that “doesn’t talk much.” was more freedom than they had ever had before.
They live in Waterdeep on Black Dog Alley, dwelling in the basement of a human wizard
named Madalyn Darkleaf and they were roommates. Geddask glances at the plague doctor
disguise placed neatly upon a mannequin. It was what she was wearing when she met the
illithid, and had been modified since then to fit them.

Thinking back to how it all began, they had wandered into Waterdeep’s sewage tunnels,
seeking refuge after breaking free from the elder brain of Oryndoll. Unfortunately they had
run into a group of adventurers seeking rumors of lost treasures. Their psionics were spent
during the battle and they had been beaten within an inch of their life. By some miracle they
were able to play dead convincingly enough, and they didn’t finish the job. Madalyn was
searching for the Catacombs of Yintros when she came across the pathetic creature.

She had poked them with her staff, causing the creature to hiss in pain. “Please… Have
mercy…” They let out a strained and gurgled plea. It was the first time Geddask had truly felt
fear. “Well… Since you asked so nicely…” The womans’ voice was muffled. The suit she
wore looked like it’s purpose was to protect her from the elements of this dismal place. She
pulled a potion of healing from her belt and left it in front of them. Geddask was cautious.
They couldn’t understand why this strangely dressed woman was being kind to them even
though the illithid hadn’t dominated her mind into doing their bidding.
“Hurry up, or I’ll put you out of your misery. Don’t waste my time.” She threatened. Geddask
didn’t need anymore convincing as they used their tentacles to open the vial and gulp it
down. They remember slowly sitting up, and still being in incredible pain. Madalyn sighed.
“I guess I’ll look for those catacombs some other time… Sit still. I’m going to make it easier
to transport you.” She sounded commanding, and annoyed, but Geddask could sense
curiosity as well. Before they could question what she planned to do, they were suddenly
polymorphed into the harmless form of a kitten and placed within her bag. Geddask had
mewed in protest the entire time, even as the woman began dragging the corpse of a goblin
she had slain earlier in her trek behind her. Her hooded lantern lit up a discreetly marked
section of the wall. The spell Passwall was cast, opening up a passage into an empty
basement. She dispelled the effects of both her spells. Geddask felt humiliation and anger at
how they were treated! “Here. Eat.” Madalyn tossed the goblin’s corpse to the floor before
them.

Back in the present moment, Geddask leans back in their chair. The illithid looked upon that
day with an odd fondness. They knew they could dominate the wizard’s mind any time they
wished, but without a colony, she could never be a thrall. At least, that was the excuse they
gave themselves. Since the day they met, they came to a mutual agreement. Geddask could
live in the basement on the condition that they didn’t draw any unnecessary attention to
Madalyn and that they find a way to pay for their own experiments.

They became an artillerist capable of making useful magic items to fund their projects.
Madalyn would claim a cut of those funds and occasionally request projects for herself. In
exchange, she assisted them in their work, acting as a representative to help them sell their
goods, running errands that an illithid could not do for themselves in a surface world society.
She would cast Passwall so that they could get their source of brains, often with the reminder
that “If you’re not back in two hours, I’ll assume you died and you’re on your own.” She had
even given them a ring of mind shielding to protect them from detection in case an elder
brain got too close to Waterdeep. She would never ask anything about where they found their
meals or what they ate so she could feign plausible deniability if anything went downhill.

Geddask found Madalyn to be a capable wizard herself. No where near the skills of wizards
like Elminster but she had gained knowledge and power, doing well enough to get a decent
two story home all to herself. Thick black curtains were draped over most of the windows at
all times so Geddask could come upstairs anytime they wished without being seen, and
without being bothered by sunlight. They would occasionally peer out of the upper windows,
covering their face while watching people go about their lives. They stand up, taking a break
from a magical firearm they were designing.They silently glide up the stairs to the second
floor. They did not desire companionship often. Madalyn and Geddask did not always agree
with each other, but even their fiercest debates were… Intellectually stimulating. The upper
floors were bathed in the orange glow of sunset.
Geddask gently knocked on her chamber door even though it was slightly ajar. “Is this
important?” Madalyn responds. She was wearing loose silk robes. She had fierce honey
brown eyes. Her long raven hair cascaded halfway down her back, and framed her sharp
features like a portrait. She sat in a large cushioned chair, her legs crossed as if it were a
throne. She held a pipe of smoke monsters in her right hand. “I am about to partake in my
recreational herbs and you know it causes me to be consumed with lust. Unless you’re
willing to lend your assistance, it would be wise to return at a later point in time.” Madalyn
warned her aberrant roommate.

“No, it is not urgent.” Geddask responded. They had tried smoking from her pipe on a
previous day when Madalyn had offered it to them. The experience was awful. It felt as
though their gills were on fire as they choked and sputtered and their slimy skin became
overly moist as if to defend itself from the offending substance. They never really took the
time to observe her thoughts in depth outside of quick glances into her mind. She seemed
calm, affable and vulnerable under the influence of the herb she occasionally partook in.
Geddask had never taken advantage of that state. They were able to rationalize their lack of
dominion over her in various ways. She already provided everything they needed. They had
already conquered her. Geddask deceived themselves. "I apologize, Madalyn, I did not mean
to intrude on your private time. I do not believe my current physiology would allow for that
kind of activity." Geddask sounded reserved.

Madalyn laughs at Geddask as if the illithid were a sweet summer child. “You’ve got two
perfectly functional hands, and four appendages which are capable of completing both fine
and strength-based tasks.” She pointed out. “I’ve done extensive research into your species
after we’ve met, including some less orthodox tomes. Drizzt DoUrden’s Guide to the
Underdark had a rather interesting excerpt.” She teased with a smirk rarely seen on the
normally cold and stoic wizard’s face.

Geddask couldn’t deny that Madalyn had caught their interest. “Tell me about it.”

"In theory if you were to read my thoughts during the act, you'd be able to feel the sensations
that I feel. You would experience everything through me vicariously. Hypothetically
speaking, of course. It would be an interesting experiment to put into practice.” Madalyn
explained. Her neighbors often whispered about her eccentricities in hushed whispers. They
had no idea. Perhaps she was a bit mad to consider fornicating with a mind flayer
“You would open your mind to me? Most individuals would not trust me to peer into their
minds.” Geddask sounded hesitant.

“I am not like most people. It is well within your power to achieve whatever you wish.
You’ve lived in my home for roughly three months. If you were going to harm me or attempt
to turn me into a slave, you would have already done it.” Madalyn points out.
“Metaphorically speaking, we’re both birds with our own gilded cages but perhaps we can
learn to pick our locks.” It sounded as if she were offering some new freedom to Geddask
that they couldn’t perceive without her help once more.

“I see. A most… Interesting proposition. Let us commence this experiment. “ Geddask agrees.
With a snap of her fingers, Madalyn lights the pipe with Prestidigitation. Taking a long drag,
the wizard exhales the smoke into the shape of a dragon. She could feel Geddask watching
her with more than their eyes. “It has been a long time since I have been intimate with
something that wasn’t an Unseen Servant of my own making…” Madalyn admitted,
chuckling softly. Geddask could sense a hint of nervousness mixed with excitement.

“You lack companionship?” Geddask asked. They’d never thought about it before.

“Everyone gets lonely sometimes, don’t they? Some more than others.” She replied. She
inhales once more. This time the smoke morphed into the form of a smoke mephit. A familiar
tingle started to make itself known to Madalyn. The world was starting to lose it’s borders to
Geddask. They focused solely on Madalyn during this strange experience.

“Is it my fault?” The mental walls they’d built around themselves began to falter.

“No. It is a loneliness I have imposed upon myself, before you met me.” Madalyn
explained. On the third and final drag of the pipe, it was an illithid wrapping smokey tendrils
around the wizard before dissipating into thin air. They shared a desire to push away their
anxiety. It disappeared with the smoke. Geddask felt a strange sense of awe at the display.
They felt a warmth they hadn’t felt before. The sensation had two origins. Both from
Madalyn’s enigmatic mind and from something long forgotten within Geddask. “Shall we be
lonely together?” Madalyn asked. Time seemed to slow. The space between them felt
distorted. Madalyn takes the illithid’s hand, leading them to her bed. Standing at the foot of
the bed, she turned to Geddask and leaned in sensually. Her fingers trace over one of his
tentacles before her fingers curl around it in a firm yet warm grip. Geddask feels himself
pulled closer. She presses her lips against their tentacle and Geddask lets out a gasp. They
pull away both in mind and body. The illithid was… blushing! Their silvery white blood left
their face with a pale flush. Madalyn chuckled softly, covering her mouth. “Are you alright,
Geddask?” She asks, putting her hand on his arm reassuringly. Geddask’s tentacles begin to
rise to cover their face.

"Damn you and your strange magics... What have you done to me!? It's... Indescribable. It’s
like electricity and fire running through me." Geddask demands an answer.

“I have cast no spells. If it discomforts you, you may stop at any time. You’re safe.” She
speaks in a soft and comforting voice. Madalyn’s words made them feel as if they would
melt. They uncover their eyes and look at Madalyn. Her loose robes were practically sliding
off her shoulders, exposing more of her chest.

“I would like to proceed.” Geddask manages to calm themselves. They focus on her mind
once more as they reach out slowly and pull her robes down. Madalyn was wearing nothing
underneath. “I never thought the human form could be so beautiful… Every marking and
scar is like a brush stroke upon a canvas.” Their eyes wander to her collar bone which sports
a tattoo of inky black tendrils. It was a magical Coiling Grasp tattoo. “I see you still have my
handiwork on your skin…” Geddask sounded a little bit proud of themselves.

“It’s one of my favorite commissions.” Madalyn smirks. She was starting to blush as well.
Madalyn led the illithid into her bed.

“I truthfully do not know what to do with my hands and tentacles. Will this lack of knowledge
be a significant impairment?” Geddask felt their heart racing and yet time seemingly stood
still as the room began to darken with the dusk.

“That’s alright. We’ll think about it.” She joked, giggling at her own pun. Geddask blinked.

“Ah, yes. Humor… Thank you. It does make my thoughts lighter.” They seemed to appreciate
it, even if they didn’t laugh. Madalyn gently guides his hands and tentacles to her body. She
vividly fantasizes about what they will do with them and Geddask understands without a
single word uttered between them. His tentacles slide around her waist, and across her chest,
sensually tracing the tattoo on her skin. Another was curled around her breast.

“Oooh… That feels strange.” She laughs softly. Geddask blushes and starts to pull away. “I
didn’t tell you to stop.” She teased. Geddask nods, unable to form a single word. Their fourth
tentacle trails lower, rubbing her inner thigh. “Ohhh…” Madalyn moans softly, closing her
eyes. She fantasizes about the illithid holding her hand as they push the tentacle inside of her.
Geddask follows through as if her thoughts were instructions. “Oh, yes! Geddask, you’re
incredible!” She moaned louder, complimenting them. She locked eyes with his solid white
orbs for a moment. They knew they had momentum going now. Madalyn’s eyes rolled back
from the thick tentacle thrusting inside of her soaked slit. Their minds rubbed raw against
each other psionically. Her eyes rolled back. She was baring every raw emotion to them. She
began to feel their emotions as well.
“My heart is racing! Madalyn, this is amazing. You’re amazing! “ The layer of their slime
only grew thicker as they continued.

“I feel you… I really feel you.” Madalyn smiled blissfully as she placed her hand upon his
chest. Their heartbeat pulsed through her like the vibrations of a drum.

Geddask began to whimper, their control of themselves beginning to falter. They couldn’t do
anything other than focus on this strange sensation! They needed more of this! Their pace
became steady as the tip of another tentacle rubs against her clitoris. Madalyn’s mind became
hazy, as if enveloped in a fog of sensation. Then a mischievous thought crossed her mind.
Before Geddask could react to it, she reached out and grabbed the tentacle which was tracing
her tattoo, rubbing it between her thumb and forefinger. “ Madalyn, when you do that I-”
Geddask was cut off as they let out a gooey moan. They both shivered pleasurably, about to
go over the edge. Madalyn plants a firm and impassioned kiss on his tentacle. It sent a shock
of pleasure through the both of them when combined with all the other stimulation. “Oh
FUCK!” Geddask’s eyes widened as Madalyn let out a pleasured cry that broke the soft
sounds of their panting.

The illithid collapses, resting their head against Madalyn’s chest. Geddask was stunned. They
couldn’t move for what seemed like eons. She wraps an arm around them and kisses their
forehead. “Are you certain you didn’t cast a spell on me…?” Geddask stirs, only to turn over
in her bed, allowing themselves to be the little spoon as Madalyn cuddles them.

“I have no components for an enchantment spell. You didn’t do anything you weren’t already
inclined to do.” She assured them.

“Hmm… These results are inconclusive. Perhaps we must perform more experiments in the
future.” Geddask pondered as they closed their eyes, enjoying her warm touch.

“Yes, I agree we should learn more about this. For research, of course.” She smiled.

“Yes… For research. ” Geddask affirmed.

Madalyn patiently waited until they were no longer listening to her thoughts, and the illithid
pulled away from probing her mind to slumber next to her. “I’m glad you’re my roommate,
Geddask. I love you…” She confesses to herself. Perhaps she would one day work up the
courage to say it to them.
 Good Thrall, Bad Thrall
Chapter Summary

An ulitharid has two personal thralls. One of them is a good boy. One of them is a brat
who made her saving throws.

Inspired by Hinu's idea.

She had it all. A fine domicile in The Workshops with a laboratory all to herself. She even
got to oversee and guide the research of other illithids within the Creator Creed. The work
never ended. The Creative Creed worked tirelessly to create and discover new psionic
disciplines, psionic items and technology. She herself had recently discovered a material that
was simultaneously a liquid and a crystal. She was one of Oryndoll’s top Creative Creed
members. Vebeva was one of 270 lucky individuals in the entire city. She was an ulitharid. A
noble illithid.

Vebeva has two personal thralls. Her first was a well groomed human man with auburn hair
and brown eyes goes by the name of Whim. He’s completely loyal and eloquent. He was the
perfect and capable butler. She’d thought about giving him the ceremorphosis treatment but
decided against taking him as an apprentice as she would lose someone to run “surface
errands” for her. In truth, this was merely an excuse to continue enjoying his affable
company. Her second thrall was a new one. She was a tiefling with fair skin, distinct ram-like
horns, long black voluminous hair kept in a ponytail, and she had a thick whip-like tail. Her
name was Natiri and she was a contrast to Whim in many ways. She was a bitchy and
intimidating bodyguard. She had more in common with Vebeva than she did with Whim.

Natiri was new to being a thrall. She was once a fighter on the surface who thought she could
be an adventurer. As such, she was inexperienced with service, much to the chagrin of her
mistress. There was a spark of rebellion in her, which was always quickly doused by the
ulitharid. Vebeva was wondering if she should just sell her off to avoid any further irritation.
She contemplates the day’s duties and future plans, sitting in a bespoke hand carved chair.
The legs were carved to look like tentacles. It had a matching end table next to the window.
She could listen to the ambience of the hustle and bustle of The Workshops. Whim enters the
room. “I’ve cleared your correspondence box for you, mistress. Shall I give your mail to you,
or would you like me to set it aside?” He asked, holding a couple parcels and an envelope.
“Ah, how diligent of you.” Vebeva complimented. “Set the parcels aside, but give me the
message.” She instructs. Whim places the parcels upon a countertop and hands her the
envelope.

“Here you are, mistress. Can I do anything else for you?” Whim asks. Her wish was his
command. “By the way, your tentacle rings look dazzling.” He sneaks in a quick compliment.

“Why thank you, Whim. That will be all for now.” She temporarily dismisses him. She opens
her mail, a small tablet with qualith written on it was inside. She rubs a tendril over the
psionic braille to read it. Another message from Zusrall inquiring about bringing the tiefling
to the Breeding Pen. “How gauche…” She rolled her eyes. These correspondences amused
her greatly. “I haven’t gotten rid of that brat because toying with Zusrall has become quite a
fun little hobby, I must admit.” The ulitharid thinks to herself. She’d been leading Zusrall on
for a couple of weeks. If she could goad that seeker of cheap thrills into making a serious
offer, she’d considered it. Until then, she’d continue to string him along for now. She’d never
even attempted to go to the Breeding Pen. Such a cheap place couldn’t possibly be good, she
reasoned.

She responds with a qualith tablet of her own stating that Natiri still needed more training.
She was a new thrall from the surface. Those were always a little harder to break so it was a
believable excuse. She carefully wraps it in dyed parchment with a wax seal. The purpose of
the covering was to prevent thralls from touching the raised bumps of the qualith directly and
harming their minds accidentally. “Natiri!” She calls for her other thrall who was
maintaining her weapons.

“What!?” Her thrall snapped back mentally. Natiri had always been snappy when pulled
away from a task she was doing, and Vebeva tired of it. The ulitharid’s eyes narrowed.

“Come here.” Although a calm and authoritative demeanor was always projected through her
voice, Vebeva was seething internally. She’d gotten so angry she had actually forgotten what
she had wanted Natiri for in the first place. The tiefling enters the room, an irritated wag of
her tail accidentally knocks over the parcels Whim had so carefully placed. Vebeva made her
irritation more obvious with a soft hiss.

Natiri grabs the parcels, hurrying to put them back up. She straightens herself to look at
Vebeva as she hesitantly moves closer. “How many times have I told you? It’s ‘Yes, Vebeva!’
‘Yes, mistress!’ Not ‘WHAT!?’!”
“Sorry. I was busy. I don’t like being interrupted. I’ll try harder next time.” Natiri responded
casually. Vebeva attempts to dominate the bratty thrall’s mind with her psionics, only to find
that the tiefling has resisted her efforts! “I’m already agreeing to do what you asked. So what
did you need?” Natiri pointed out. Vebeva was livid. It was as if a volcano were boiling over
in her mind.

“I need you to bend over my knee. Now.” Vebeva demands. Natiri’s tail wraps around her leg,
showing nervousness and she slowly complies. Natiri wondered what this towering
aberration would do to her. “It’s time for an attitude adjustment, and apparently your horns
make your skull too thick for psionics. So we’ll do this the hard way.” Her tentacles grasp at
the hem of the tiefling’s pants and yanks them down forcefully. At 8 and a half feet tall,
Vebeva was far taller than Natiri who stood at 6ft tall. “Get your tail out of my way.” She
uses two of her tentacles to pull Natiri’s tail up and restrain it. Two more tentacles wrap
around her waist to hold her in place. Her left hand gets a firm grip on one of her horns,
holding Natiri’s head back. “And so begins this creed’s invention of a new method of
discipline.” Finally her right hand begins to spank Natiri’s exposed bottom.

Natiri cries out as the strikes to her buttocks redden her skin. She squirms, trying so hard to
stay still. Vebeva stops to inspect her handiwork. Natiri finds herself panting, trying to catch
her breath. “I don’t like when you squirm around so much. It makes it very difficult for me to
discipline you. I don’t like it when you make my job difficult.” Vebeva goes right back to
spanking Natiri, ripping away her brief reprieve. Whim was in the other room, listening but
not getting involved unless summoned.

“Oh! FUCK! Ah! HARDER!” Natiri shouted. Vebeva stops when Natiri begged for more.
Her anger was extinguished like a tsunami over a lit candle. The ulitharid was baffled.

“What?”

“Harder! More!” Natiri groaned, not stopping to think about what she was begging for.
Vebeva peers into her rebellious thrall’s mind. She had to find out what was going on right
now. Her eyes widened when she realized this was arousal.

“ How pathetic! You can’t even be punished correctly!” She wraps a tentacle around Natiri’s
arms, binding them together. “Is this how you surface dwellers spend your time? You like
getting spanked?”
“Yeeess!” Natiri cried out in response.

The ulitharid finds herself indulging the tiefling, slapping at the sensitive flesh. Her anger at
her thrall slowly shifted into something else. Was it curiosity? How could they manipulate
this to their advantage? Natiri’s mind was left a confused and aroused mess. “Whim! I have
need of you.” The handsome human man returns to the sitting room.

“Yes, Mistress?”

“Would it please you to be pleasured by this thrall?”

“I would do anything you ask of me.” He assures with a smile. “May I assist in this new
training method?”

Vebeva closes the curtains of her window and releases Natiri. “Yes, you may…” She says
softly to Whim.” Natiri, take off your clothes.” She orders sternly.

“Y-yes, mistress.” Natiri stammers, pulling her clothes off to comply as quickly as possible.
The ulithard squints her eyes in a pleased manner.

“How interesting! You’re already improving. Perhaps you’re not a lost cause after all.” She
then levitates over to Whim, placing her hand upon his shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze.
“You too, please.” She was far more gentle to Whim in her request. He doesn’t resist in the
slightest, getting naked in front of both of them. He folds his clothes neatly before placing
them on the floor. “I just need to satisfy some curiosity I gained after reading Zusrall’s inane
requests.” She vaguely explains. Whim readily lets his mistress probe his mind as she places
her cool hand on his genitals.

“Oh my. How bold…” Whim smiles, sighing softly at her touch. He ends up with a semi soft
erection, slowly growing harder. Whim smirks at Natiri, who has averted her eyes from the
scene unfolding before her. Whim’s grin turns mischievous as he decides to hide his
proverbial hand from Natiri by silently sharing his thoughts with Vebeva. “It would be very
pleasurable if you could get her to pleasure me orally. She can’t talk back to you if her mouth
is occupied.” He suggests.

“This is one of many reasons why you’re my favorite thrall. By the long shot of a cannon.”
Vebeva praises. “Natiri, get on your knees in front of Whim.” To which the tiefling obeys
with far less reluctance. “Stick your tongue out. All the way.” Natiri’s mistress commands.
Natiri looks up at her mistress as she quietly complies. Her face has turned red as Vebeva
grasps her favorite thrall’s hardening member and rubs it against the tiefling’s tongue. “Put it
in your mouth.” She wraps a tentacle around her ponytail, making Natiri bob her head on
Whim’s cock. “That’s it… Now you’re starting to learn your place.”

She had to give Zusrall credit where it was due. Connecting with Whim on such an intimate
level, and using him as a tool to bring a thrall into submission was highly stimulating. He
seemed to enjoy it immensely. She gets behind Whim and traces her fingertips over his chest
intimately. “You’re absolutely brilliant!” Whim manages to whimper. “Th-thank you for
letting me assist you.”

Her tentacles reach over to tease Natiri’s sopping wet pussy. The fascinating tactile sensation
combined with delving deep into Whim’s pleasure causes her to shudder. “You’re most
welcome, Whim. I’m promoting you to head thrall. You’re in charge of making sure Natiri is
obeying my orders, and telling me if she isn’t.” She looks at Natiri with a lustful stare, and
her tentacle pulls the tiefling’s head up by the ponytail. “You’re paying attention, yes?”

“Yes, mistress!” Natiri forces herself to speak more clearly. Satisfied with her answer, Vebesa
pushes Natiri’s head back down on her favorite thrall’s cock. She pulls Whim tighter to her,
embracing him as her favorite thrall gets closer to cumming. Their thoughts of pleasure build
like static, begging for contact. “I’m… Close!” Whim grabs Natiri’s horns, forcing himself
down her throat. She had little warning as the human man released, making her swallow
every drop of his seed. He lets go, leaving the tiefling thrall sputtering and coughing.

Vebeva takes several moments processing what happened. “Oooh… Wow… Whim, that was
perfect service as usual.” She pulls her tentacles away from Natiri leaving her wanting.

“Wh-what about me?” She whined.

“What about you? Only good thralls get to feel good. You haven’t been very good have you?”
Vebeva points out. Natiri looks down, ashamed.

“No, mistress…”

“Chin up, my new thrall. I know you can do it if you try hard enough. I know you’ve got
enough determination to get your reward.” She tries to motivate her thrall. “ And don’t even
think about using your hand to finish later. I WILL know.” She states to thwart any possibility
of disobedience. “Ah yes, I remember what I wanted you for now. Get yourselves cleaned up.
I want you to take my reply to Zusrall.” She commands.
“Certainly, mistress.” Whim picks his clothing up and bows to her before leaving with Natiri
to wash up. Vebeva returns to her seat. She unwraps her qualith tablet and sands away the
bumps to erase the message. She then begins her prompt anew.

“Zusrall, I am sorry to inform you that I have other plans to breed the tiefling thrall you have
been inquiring about. You have my sincerest apologies for any inconvenience this may cause.
-Vebeva”

The correspondence was sealed once again in paper dyed in purple with the Creative Creed’s
seal in wax.
 The Breeding Pen Pt. 2
Chapter Summary

Back at it again at The Breeding Pen!

As Zusrall's thrall, you can't think about anything other than having sex with illithids.
Humanoid partners just aren't cutting it anymore and your master commissions Vizaness'
help to remedy the issue.

It was breeding day once again! You were once again doing your chores, wondering if you
would be treated to the back room again. However, the last two trips to The Breeding Pen
weren't quite as good… You couldn’t stop thinking about his tentacles on you, being wholly
invaded in body and mind by illithids. Your partners couldn’t come close to what Zusrall and
his friends did to you. You were able to finish with your master’s words encouraging you, but
it was never quite the same. You felt a slight anxiousness about today, and kept trying to push
it away.

Zusrall unwrapped the correspondence delivered to him by Vebeva’s thralls, while sipping
from a hot cup of rothe broth. The message he got was not one he wanted to read. The sudden
breakdown of negotiations angered him to the point of smashing the clay cup, spilling broth
upon the floor. You hear the cup smash from the main room you were cleaning. “Master? Are
you alright??” You check on him, seeing the mess on the floor.

“Yes. I am unharmed. How clumsy of me, It appears I have knocked over my broth. Clean this
up and get me another cup.” He assures and then commands you. You nod quietly and get to
work right away, retrieving a broom to sweep up the broken pieces and rags to clean up the
liquid. Zusrall angrily sanded away the tablet’s raised psionic bumps and attempted to
compose himself to write back. It would be considered impolite to not respond to an
ulitharid’s rejection, no matter how angry it made him. He twirls the striator in his tentacle as
he absentmindedly watches you work to make sure you haven’t missed any pieces one might
cut themselves on.

“This is bullshit!” Zusrall thinks to himself. “I’m in the top 50% of all the Nourisher Creed
breeders in Oryndoll! I should have easily been able to-” And then he came to a sudden
realization. It was disappointing but it was also rather funny. “She had to have gotten
‘personally involved’. I can think of no other reason communications would break down so
unceremoniously. Is she planning to breed her own thralls?” He thinks to himself.

You get up to get your master another cup of broth after cleaning up the mess. Zusrall sets to
work on his response.

“I see. It is disappointing news but if you require any advice in these matters, I am a
reputable breeder who can assist. -Zusrall”. For the final two lines of qualith, he added a
mental “wink wink” for emphasis. He rubs his temples. It’s irritating that he wasted weeks of
his time trying to get that damn tiefling for his prize thrall. On top of that he had new
problems…

It was a bit of an open secret that some thralls in The Breeding Pen, yourself included, were
merely for pleasure rather than making new thralls. This normally was not allowed, but
Zusrall and other top breeders were breeding thralls successfully enough that the Elder Brain
chose to ignore the degeneracy in the backrooms, and pretend it didn’t exist. It was a social
taboo for illithids to personally pleasure their thralls and Zusrall was starting to understand
why after you started having “performance issues”. The Elder Brain also chose to feign
ignorance of this, so long as the degenerates of the city performed their duties exceptionally
well.

Zusrall knocks back the rest of his broth. “Come. It’s time for us to go.” He instructed. He
got you a new collar. It was gold to show your status as a prized thrall. You feel proud to
wear it. The stares of others as the symbol of Zusrall’s ownership of you made you feel
important. Unbeknownst to you, you would be going to the back rooms once again.

The only other illithid in the private room this time was Vizaness. “We are here to discuss
your… Performance issues.” Zusrall tells you. You feel your stomach drop, as if your master
had punched you in the gut.

“I-I’m sorry. What can I do better??” You immediately wanted to remedy the problem. You
felt ashamed. You wanted to cry. He pulls your leash, leading you into a chair.

“Sit down and calm yourself. Your shortcomings are not entirely your fault, but we can not
have you failing to please. Erux is starting rumors that they will overtake my position in the
hierarchy of this creed. I will not allow anyone to entertain such stupid ideas.” Your master
explained to you as you were seated. Your breath was shaky as you attempted to soothe
yourself. Vizaness glides over to your master’s side.

“Aww, what’s wrong, Zusrall? Were we too good to your thrall?” Vizaness teases, poking
Zusrall’s cheek. Zusrall looked unamused. “Oh don’t be so surprised, Zusrall. I could have
told you this would happen. It’s not their fault they can’t resist us.” Her tentacles writhe
playfully. Vizaness was a breeder in the top 40% of breeders. Surely she’d know what to do
about this, so Zusrall hoped.

“There is good news.” She begins. “Your prize thrall is… Especially submissive, but they’ll
need some rather intensive training to make their obsession with you more manageable. I
would like my personal thrall to assist. He’s in the next room, getting ready.” Vizaness
explains.You find yourself blushing and your eyes dart between the two of them.

Zusrall felt a pang of anxiety. "Absolutely not! Your thrall is far too rough with many of the
thralls in The Breeding Pen!" Zusrall worried for his prize thrall’s safety. She had a
powerfully built half-orc man named Kalamash as her personal thrall. It was like bringing a
pit bull to a dog park full of chihuahuas. An accident waiting to happen.

“Don’t tell me you doubt my control over my prize thrall! It’s hardly his fault his partners are
a bit sore when he’s done!” Vizaness retorted in a playfully incredulous manner. “I can
ensure your prize thrall’s safety. I wouldn’t want such a cute thrall to be hurt either.
Otherwise, I wouldn’t get to play with them again.” Vizaness attempts to calm Zusrall. Your
master was still unsure. “For you, my training services will be good and cheap.”

“I’m willing to do it. I’ll do whatever it takes to be a better thrall for you, Zusrall. So please
don’t worry about me. I can take it!” You put on a brave face for Zusrall. “I can’t wear this
collar with pride unless I can perform perfectly for you, master.”

Zusrall seems to consider your words. Internally, he was moved by them. “Very well. I will
allow it. If my favored thrall should be in any pain or discomfort, we will cease your training
immediately, Vizaness. Can you agree to these terms?” His mental voice was stern.

“I certainly can. Kalamash might be a bit larger than your brave thrall is used to, so we’ll
have to properly prepare your cute thrall for him. They’ll need to warm up with some
stretching.” Vizaness agrees, explaining how she would ensure your comfort. She pats your
cheek with a tentacle. You blushed from that and placed your hands on your cheeks to hide
their warmth.

“Are you here to tease them or help them?” Zusrall raises a brow.

“I’m getting to that. I can show you a psionic discipline that will allow you to pleasure them
without laying a finger on them. The drawback however, is that you’ll have to focus on them
entirely and you won’t be able to feel any of it yourself. It’s perfect for setting up thralls who
don’t particularly care for each other.” Vizaness explains. “How you managed to be a top
breeder without knowing this technique is honestly a surprise to me. I’m certain you can
climb the ranks even higher by learning this talent.”

Zusrall was now just as curious as you. She begins speaking to Zusrall privately. “Please
observe your thrall’s mind, and feel free to enjoy it.” Vizaness pulls you to your feet by your
hand. She makes you kneel on the floor, looking at your master. She gently removes your
robes. Your mind is in a haze merely from the gentle touch of her fingertips over your neck
and back.

“This telepathic devotion is called Microcosm. Watch as I plunge your thrall into a private
world created from their subconscious fantasies. While you maintain this power, your target's
senses no longer convey stimuli from the real world. Instead, your target’s own mind
overrides their senses and fills in the details of a pleasant fantasy world. Whatever the
fantasy, your adorable thrall believes that they have been physically transported to the world
in question, while in reality your thrall stands mute, unseeing, and unresponsive to the real
world. Take care not to allow your target to believe they are being fed false sensory
information at the moment, or they might break free. However, no outside stimuli can break
them free of the hallucination while it continues. Nothing outside of their fantasies will bring
them back to their senses while you continue to focus on this power. Observe.” Vizaness
explains as she begins to focus on creating the microcosm for you. “ Let us see what fantasies
are in your prize thrall’s mind.”

You witness your master approach you. Vizaness remains behind you. Your master slips a
finger under your collar, pulling your face closer to his. You breathe in his scent deeply.
“Show me your devotion.” He commands. You begin to kiss his tentacles tenderly.

“Please help me stretch so I can be a good thrall for you…” You begged him. “I need to be
perfect for you.” Vizaness uses her hand to stimulate your nether regions.
“Very interesting… My prize thrall has a very vivid imagination.” Zusrall in the real world
blushes a bit as he witnesses you fantasize about kissing him. He pokes you, lightly pulls on
your hair, and lightly slaps your cheek to test out Vizaness’ claims. Your thoughts are not in
the slightest changed by the outside stimuli. You don’t react to any of it. You were in a daze,
but in your mind Zusrall was taking full control of your pleasure. “ Mmnn… Fascinating…”
He watches as Vizaness starts stretching you out in the real world, getting your body ready.
“I had no idea their subconscious could be so arousing.” Zusrall was clearly enjoying the
fantasy that Vizaness helped you create.

In your fantasies, Zusrall is filling you up with his tentacle, slowly going deeper. It felt so
real as the fantasy Vizaness restrained your arms with her tentacles, you eagerly begged your
fantasy Zusrall to make you perfect. “Very good… You’re taking it so well.” The fantasy
Zusrall praises you. Your body begins to tremble, getting close to the edge. Suddenly this
pleasant visage is gently pulled away, like a mother waking her child. You look to see Zusrall
standing over you and Vizaness pulls a thick glass dildo that looks to be about 9 inches out of
you.

“Eh? What?” You feel a bit confused and realize you have been somehow deceived. You
realize you were fantasizing and your master saw you kissing his tentacles! How
embarrassing! You move to cover your face but Zusrall grabs your hands with his tentacles.
A third tentacle cups your chin and forces you to look at him. He was blushing too! Vizaness
had unintentionally edged him as well, but harbored no ill feelings towards her.

“Yes, I think you can be more than a prized thrall. You will learn to be a perfect thrall.” His
words in your mind made your body feel hot. You yearned and ached for more.

“I think you understand now that it’s all for your master’s pleasure. Everything you do is for
Zusrall. Even if you have to pleasure lesser beings to do it. You’ll do anything for your
master, won’t you?” Vizaness teases, her cool fingers touch your hot cheek. She turns your
head to make you look at her. You nodded eagerly. You were too horny to get a word out. “
Oh, Kalamash! Come in to play!” Vizaness calls for her prize thrall. A tall and muscular 6'4"
half orc with black hair in a neat crew cut and piercing blue eyes enters the room. You’ve told
Zusrall before that you thought he was scary. You feel your heart race when he looks at you
and smirks. “Remember, Kalamash. We’re learning to be gentle, so play nice with this one.”
She dominates his mind effortlessly, having control of every aspect of his actions.

“Yes, Vizaness.” Kalamash responds. You are lifted by Zusrall’s levitation and gently placed
onto the private room’s bed. The display of your master’s power starts to calm you as
Kalamash approaches you. The burly half orc brings his head between your legs and begins
to warm you up once again using his mouth. Despite his tusks, he was trained quite skillfully
by Vizaness. You sigh and moan softly, feeling the anxiety start to slip away.

“Such a good boy! You’re being so nice with your playmates! That’s what I like to see.”
Vizaness praises her thrall.

“That’s it… Just relax and take deep breaths. I know you can do this for me.” Zusrall
encourages. You feel a smile creeping onto your face. Kalamash didn’t seem so scary
anymore.

No, he was there to help you please your master. He was there to please you. You think about
reaching out to touch him. Your hands tremble slightly as his tongue finds a sensitive spot
that makes you moan a bit louder.

“You can touch him. He doesn’t bite.” Vizaness encourages you. Without any further
prodding, you place your hand upon his soft and clean hair, rubbing gently. His girthy cock
was fully erect and twitching, eager to get some action. He whimpers softly, looking at you
with expectant eyes. Seems he wasn’t much of a talker. It was actually rather cute to you. You
wanted to get to know Kalamash even better. “Are you ready for him?” Vizaness asks.

“Yes. I told Zusrall I can take it. I refuse to seem like a liar.” You affirm and you lay back for
Kalamash.

“Remember, if it hurts, we’re stopping. I won’t have my prize thrall damaged by a mate of
incompatible size.” Zusrall spoke up with a tinge of concern in his voice.

“It’ll be fine! I’m willing to bet a determined gnome could make it fit with my training.”
Vizaness boasts. “Alright big boy.” Vizaness moves behind her thrall and jerks him off with a
slimy tentacle. Each movement was purposeful in adding extra lubrication to his cock for
you. “I stretched them out for you, but let’s go slow at first.” Vizaness instructed, pulling her
tentacle away. Kalamash pinned you down, pushing you into a mating press position. You
hope your thoughts would please your master and relax as you feel the half orc’s girth fill you
up slowly.

“Oh fuck, that’s a tight fit…” You gasp.

“You okay?” Kalamash speaks up to check on you. You nod in response. The half-orc pulls
all the way out and plunges back in. “Ah!” You moan in surprise, your eyes widened. The
sensation made even Zusrall jolt a little.

“Ah, ah… Nicer, Kalamash. Nicer…’ Vizaness softly scolds.

“Harder, Kalamash! Harder!” You pleaded.

“ Oh my!” Vizaness was surprised. The poor half-orc was confused. He stopped where he
was, but he desperately wanted to plow into you. Zusrall sits in a chair, staring at you in your
predicament.

“Please continue.” He nods, confirming your desires.

With permission to continue, Kalamash begins to go at a steady pace, filling you with every
thrust. “S-so good! Oh gods! ” Your voice squeaks and strains with every moan. You
accepted and loved everything you got. It pleased you knowing it was for Zusrall.

“There are no gods here, no matter how much you deify your master.” Vizaness teased. Her
comment made both you and your master blush. “ See? My thrall is harmless. Such a
gentleman to your thrall isn’t he?”

Zusrall was left shivering slightly as he focused on your pleasure. “He’s doing a fantastic job,
Vizaness. I apologize for my misgivings.” He responds. Vizaness takes a hint and focuses on
her own thrall. Zusrall then takes the time to fill your mind with his praise, as he often did
when he really started to enjoy your pleasure. “Very good. You’re taking every inch in stride.
I’d expect no less of my perfect thrall.” Your master’s praise heightens your arousal. It begins
to build more and more as you look at Kalamash. You reach out to pull him closer and kiss
him passionately.

“Oh…! He really liked that! Look at you two playing so nicely!” Vizaness remarks.

“Thank you… Thank you…” You whispered to your fellow thrall while panting. Thanks to
him, you could make your master happy again. Kalamash moans in response, clearly getting
close to releasing inside you. Vizaness makes him pull out and finishes him off with her
tentacle. The half-orc lets out a low growl as he spills his seed on your stomach and chest.
Vizaness shows off another trick she had up her sleeve as she redirects and thrusts
Kalamash’s orgasm into your mind. You and Zusrall can’t resist making noise as it strikes
you both. It leaves you a panting mess with a big smile on your face. Kalamash sits up to
gently wipe you clean.
“I had fun. I’d like to do this again sometime if I’m allowed to.” Kalamash blushes, smiling
at you.

“I’d like that.” You sit up, returning his smile and look at Zusrall for approval.

“Perhaps we could plan another training session.” Zusrall agreed.

“Your thrall might be a little sore. Take it easy with them today. They’ll need to recover from
their training.” Vizaness helped you to your feet. You walk with just a bit of difficulty,
looking a little embarrassed.

“Hehe… Guess I overdid it a bit, master…” You chuckled softly.

“Such a brave sacrifice.” Zusrall playfully mocks. “What do I owe you, Vizaness?”

“A single mindgate is all I will ask from you. I did say it would be good and cheap.” She
responded. Zusrall pulls a small bottle containing a jarred and jellied eyeball out of his robe
and hands it to her. “We’ll make plans later. I’ll let you take your prize thrall home.” Her
tentacles curl as if she were smirking.

You get dressed and once again don your golden collar. Zusrall hooks the leash to it. You
wave goodbye to Vizaness and Kalamash with a smile on your face. As you walk to your
domicile, you have a smile on your face. You were once again proud to wear your symbol of
a prize thrall. Once home, he leads you to your room. You had a luxurious four poster moss
bed which cost your master quite a decent piece of lore. You had a small library of books,
each personally approved by your master. A stone chair with a cute skull shaped cushion was
in front of your reading nook and desk. You climb into bed and your master pulls your
blanket over you.

You hug a soft toy shaped like a rothe as you look up at him with a smile. “Get some rest.
You’ve earned it.” He tells you. He finds himself thinking about your fantasies of kissing him
once again. He rubs his tentacles in thought at the idea. “I think I will petition for one of my
rest days soon. I must tend to my lesser thralls now. I will see you when I return home.”

“Have a great day at work, master!” You bid him farewell cheerfully, blissfully unaware of
his thoughts. You settle into bed, determined to give him a welcoming home to return to
when you wake up.
 Sanctuary in Tentacled Embrace
Chapter Summary

I had to do my research to see if strap on dildos would have existed in The Forgotten
Realms. Our real world history has court records dating back to the 13th century, so yes
they would have. Source: Puff, Helmut. 2000. "Female Sodomy: The Trial of Katherina
Hetzeldorfer (1477)" in Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies: 30:1, 41-61.

I had a sensible chuckle while writing this.

You sat before your easel, painting another masterpiece for your illithid master, Addanil.
Normally you painted scenes of the Underdark’s mysterious beauty. Your creative process
went as far as using glowing pigments for certain species of bioluminescent fungi and fauna.
Your master sold your works of art to “the other thrall races” as a merchant. The gold from
your endeavors allowed your master to bribe others for lore and information. You didn’t paint
them often, but you could do portraits as well. You were creating a portrait of your master for
the first time. You had spent nearly an hour mixing pigments to get the correct shade of
mauve. The shape of his tentacles seemed to flow effortlessly from your brush. The things
Addanil did to your mind that day were amazing and terrifying all at once.

For weeks, you fantasized about him intruding once more. You started altering your clothing,
slowly making them more pleasant to look at. They were becoming more revealing.You
know for sure he noticed, yet he never said anything. He never made you dress more
modestly either. How much longer would he leave you wanting? You start to paint his
piercing yellow irises, your brush dipped in luminescent paint. They were your favorite color.
The pigments he bought you were the most beautiful gifts you possessed. Addanil colored
your whole world.

At the rate things were going, your ass cheeks would be hanging out. Your bottoms were
short and loose, perhaps for easy access for Addanil. Your shirt was partially open for similar
reasons. You blush at the thought. You would have never thought of dressing like this before.
“Is that me you’re painting?” Addanil asks as he enters your room unannounced. You close
your eyes to appreciate his mental presence. A soft smile forms on your face.

“It is. Do you like it, master?”

“Yes. I love it when you use those luminescent paints. It makes me look awe inspiring and
powerful.” Addanil compliments your work.
“Come to my chamber. I wish to speak with you.” He tells you. Your eyes widen in surprise.
You felt an urgency at his command and hurriedly cleaned off your brush. “Yes, master! I’m
coming!” Your master was also a member of the Possessor Creed. He could have easily been
a member of the Abysmal Creed if he had wanted to. He knew how to torture others
efficiently. You’ve seen him cow rebellious thralls with a mere raise of his hand, yet he was
gentle as a spring breeze to you. He masterfully crafted decorative masks that captured
moments of pure horror in his younger years, yet he kept no such objects in his home
anymore. He chose instead to display artistic sculptures and resonance stones of positive
emotions enabling your creativity.

The sight in Addanil’s room shocked and surprised you. On every wall were several of your
paintings. A fungal forest, great stones and crystals, abstract places from your dreams.Your
dreamscapes made up most of the paintings. “Why are you surprised? Your talents have
brought me much wealth and knowledge. It is inevitable that some of your works would be
priceless.” Your master tells you.

“Thank you. It is an honor to know you enjoy my art.” You bow to him. “Why did you wish
to see me in your room?” You ask. You’ve never been in your master’s room before. He
always made a lesser thrall clean it. Addanil sits on his bed, patting the spot next to him.

“Come. Sit.” He commands gently. You start blushing but without hesitation, you nod and
move to your master’s side, sitting down promptly. “For what purpose are you wearing such
revealing clothing?” He teased you. He knew what was on your mind before you could even
say it. He wanted to hear you say it. “I thought it would look appealing to you…” You
sounded embarrassed.

“Your behavior since our experiment has been very interesting to observe.” He tells you. His
tentacle absentmindedly tugs at your shirt. You bite your lower lip, while holding perfectly
still for him. “You were hoping for further testing, weren’t you?” Addanil points out.

“Yes, master.” You whispered. “Was I being bad?” You asked.

Addanil’s tentacle starts to pull your shirt open teasingly. You never had much confidence in
yourself, so you always tried very hard for your master’s approval. “You’ve only ever
thought about pleasing me. That is not inherently a crime.” Addanil reassures you.
“Although you are getting rather bold with some of your choices…” He pointed out, more
tentacles teasingly tugging at your clothing. Your outfit slowly becomes more disheveled
than before as his slimy tentacles poke, prod and pull.
“I’m sorry… I’ll dress more modestly in public from now on, if that is your desire.” You
sounded ashamed and shy. Your face grows ever redder.

“I like to keep my treasures to myself.” He tells you. Addanil slowly pulls his tentacles away
and from a drawer he produces an outfit even more sexy and revealing than your own. It was
dyed in your favorite color, yellow. It looked like it belonged to a thrall in the breeding pen. It
left little to the imagination. You wondered why Addanil had something like this. “This will
be your new uniform when in my domicile, with the exception of when we have guests over. I
want you to try it on and return to me.”

“Yes, master.” You clutch the outfit in your hands. Your face was beet red from Addanil’s
teasing as you went into your sanctuary to put it on. You were more worked up than you
realized as you put on the outfit. It barely covered you but the accent of fine golden chains fit
perfectly. You waste little time admiring yourself in the mirror because you remembered that
your master was waiting. You return to his chambers. You’ve never felt so naked walking
through his domain. “Is it acceptable, master?” You give a shy smile as you slowly turn to
show him all of you.

“It is satisfactory.” Addanil confirms. He levitates around you, further inspecting the outfit
closely, running his fingers over the golden chains that held the patches of silk fabric
together. “It appears you are ready for another session of experimentation. Sit on my bed.”
Your master commands. You obey without hesitation. Addanil disrobes completely and
begins strapping on a harness of leather, with a finely carved and polished quartz shaft
through the hole in the center. He wore it where his manhood once was as a humanoid,
compensating for what he lacked.

Addanil acquired his “tools” for his “experiments” on you from a recent business trip. He had
left you at home during this trip, instead choosing to take a female drow thrall to pose as a
legitimate business partner to another drow merchant in his stead. He couldn’t be caught dead
purchasing these things. Addanil had eaten the thrall after their business was concluded so
that the evidence of his activities would be disposed of. “Does this look… Silly to you?”
Your master asks. In a rare moment of shyness for Addanil, he sounded unsure. You clasp
your hand over your mouth, failing to stifle a laugh.

“N-not at all!” You tried to assure him.

“You’re laughing…” Addanil points out. You start to feel a little bad about that.
“It doesn’t really matter what I think about it. I will do as you please. Even if it’s silly, scary
or sad, I’ll do it for you. I want to be a good test subject for you.” You smiled at him. “You
helped me last time. Let me help you.” To show your willingness, you climb up further onto
his bed and bend over for him. You grab one of his pillows for added comfort and support,
breathing in his vanilla-garlic scent left behind on it. Addanil mentally noted your eagerness,
and he approached you from behind. His fingers trail over your back. One of his tentacles
grabs the fabric at the crotch of your skimpy outfit and pulls it aside, exposing your intimate
parts to him.

“You are highly aroused. I can sense how your mind slowly empties of all thoughts, except for
the pursuit of pleasure in this state.” Addanil observes . “Lately, your thoughts have become
focused on me. Prior to our experiment, it was like wind howling through an empty cavern…
I want you to focus on me.” Addanil’s tentacles tease your entrance, rubbing against the area
to lubricate it. You let out a soft moan, eagerly grinding against him. So tantalizingly close,
yet it never enters. “Such a needy thrall…” Addanil comments. He gets into position and
grabs your hips firmly, thrusting the polished crystal shaft inside of you to the base. You let
out a loud moan and bite into the pillow.

“You already know what I expect of you. Such a good thrall.” Your master praises, trying to
thrust at an even pace. You let out muffled moans with every motion, yet you can’t stop
fantasizing about his tentacles filling you. They were so precise. So soft… The sensation of
the toy inside you was pleasant as well, but it was also hard and unyielding. You begin
backing up against it, attempting to match his pace. You started to drool on his pillow,
eagerly accepting everything he did. The sound of your flesh against Addanil’s made a sticky
plapping sound. No matter what, you would continue this experiment as long as he wanted to.

Addanil began groaning swears in Undercommon in a gooey voice instead of his usual
mental one due to the physical exertion he was performing combined with zeroing in on your
pleasure and fantasies. After several minutes, his knees begin to shake and he pulls out of
you. You whine from the sudden emptiness. “Having a penis is highly overrated… I don’t
know how the breeding thralls do it.” He pulls the harness off, tossing it aside. He was unsure
if he had wasted a thrall on acquiring that thing.

“In your defense, it’s not like I know either.” You slide out of bed to get your master some
water, handing him a chalice made from a deep gnome’s skull. Addanil greedily gulps it
down. He lets out a satisfied sigh as he sets the chalice aside on a night stand.

“Lay down on your back for me. I would like to recreate that sensation of satisfaction.” Your
master commands. You relax for him, resting your head on the pillow you were using to keep
yourself quiet. You spread your legs for him eagerly. Addanil lays on his left side and wraps
his right leg around yours, holding you firmly in place. His left arm wraps around your
shoulder, propping your head up as he rests his head against your chest. You get comfortable
and return his embrace, wrapping your right arm around his shoulder. “Let us see if we can
achieve any results in this position.”

You were grappled. You weren’t escaping and that was more than alright with you. “I don’t
want to be anywhere else.” You assured him. Your new uniform wasn’t an obstacle to him at
all. Two of Addanil’s tentacles slide over your chest, coiling and tracing over your skin in
sensual patterns. The other two wander lower, sliding down your stomach to a more intimate
destination. You reach for his right hand with your left, your fingers becoming intertwined.
You lean in and kiss his forehead.

“What fascinating behavior… What do you call that?” Addanil paused for a moment..

“I saw it in one of the reference books for my art that you gave me. I don’t remember what it
was called. It just looked nice...” You admitted to him shyly.

“Perhaps we’ll have to dig up that book later. It was indeed pleasant.” Addanil contemplates
as he blushes. He can’t deny you any longer. His tentacles get to work stimulating you down
below. You let out a moan at being entered. You were being skillfully rubbed and penetrated
all at once. You held your master’s hand tenderly as you relaxed in his grip. Addanil knew he
needed to quiet you so his neighbors wouldn’t hear them but he found he didn’t have the
willpower to stop what he was doing. Your master wanted relief as badly as you did.

“Please do that again…” Addanil mentally encourages you to kiss him more. You eagerly
plant more kisses on his forehead, on his cheek, on the ridge of his tentacles above his mouth.
You both moan from some of your kisses. You find yourself overwhelmed with pleasure,
taking deep breaths to relax as your legs shake uncontrollably. Your heart raced as all your
senses were dominated by Addanil. The touch of your union, the vanilla-garlic scent, the
sound of your combined pleasure, the sight of him enjoying every sensation in your body, and
the taste of his slime upon your lips. An idea came to his mind that seemed a bit risky to him.
He moves one of his tentacles from your chest and sticks it into your mouth in an attempt to
quiet your moans. “Hmmnngh…” Addanil groans as you eagerly suck on it. A combination
of illithid slime and your saliva slowly builds in your mouth, making the task especially
sloppy.

At the last moment, Addanil couldn’t care less about being quiet. He pulls the tentacle from
your mouth, a trail of slime and spit connecting to his tentacle breaks off and drips down your
chin. Perhaps he was worried you would choke. Maybe he subconsciously wanted to hear
you cry out. Regardless of the reason, your shared orgasm was inevitable as he made that
same noise you thought was so cute the last time. You smiled blissfully as you laid there
together, stunned for several moments. “I’m sorry, master. I didn’t mean to be so loud…”
You finally speak up.

“It is alright. If anyone asks, I’ll just tell them I was trying out a new torture method on you.”
Your master assured you. “With the way you were yearning for another experiment with me,
it’s technically the truth.” He laughs quietly and gives your thigh a gentle squeeze before
moving to sit up in his bed. “It seems I’ve made quite a mess of you and your new uniform.”
Addanil noticed, looking down at you. It was brand new and it already needed to be washed.
“I think I will need to procure more of these ‘uniforms’. You’ll be washing them frequently as
we conduct further testing.”

You blushed and giggled at the thought of wearing even more skimpy outfits, trying to
imagine what they might look like. “Did you get anything conclusive from this experiment?”
You ask him.

“Yes… This activity seems to have profound stress relieving effects when done to completion.
The pleasure it brings is second only to the pleasure of consuming the brain of an
adventurer.” Addanil tells you. “You have a beautiful mind, my favored thrall.” Addanil
compliments.

“It is all thanks to you. If you were not my muse, it wouldn’t be possible. Thank you for
everything, master.” You return his compliment in kind. He brings the tip of a tentacle to your
lips, which you kiss tenderly. Your master lets out a soft hum of satisfaction.

“Go get yourself and your uniform cleaned up. By the way, when you have finished your
portrait, I would like to display it in the sitting room.” Addanil softly curls his tentacles in
contentment. Your eyes glimmer at that. He would display your art to his guests? Nothing
made you happier. You bow to him with a bright smile on your face, immediately setting to
the tasks he commanded you to do.
 The Breeding Pen Pt.3
Chapter Summary

Zusrall takes the day off and makes you part of his recreation time.

I am suffering from a cold at the time of publishing so I wrote this in a Nyquil fueled
delirium. Hopefully it is still enjoyable.

Today your master, Zusrall, was taking the day off. You wondered what he would do today.
Maybe he’d go to The Succulent Encephalon or The Spinal Tap. Both establishments were
excellent and expensive. You had hoped he would not choose The Spinal Tap, but you would
put on a brave face for Zusrall if he did. The sounds of the bonethriven in that tavern were
foreboding and left you unsettled. Maybe he’d go to the bazaar or enjoy watching dominance
tournaments at the amphitheater. He normally tells you his prior plans, and you found it odd
that he didn’t. You figured you weren’t going to The Breeding Pen today as that was basically
Zusrall’s job, even if the entertainment was good and cheap.

A lesser thrall had prepared breakfast for you today. It was something exciting compared to
the dried rations in your room. Zusrall occasionally liked to try humanoid foods vicariously
through you as the Possessor Creed sometimes imported foods for non-illithids at the only
tavern that served them. Your only attempt at cooking had been a disaster that left you
profusely apologizing for wasting the money he spent on the ingredients, yet he graciously
forgave you.

This time it was deep oysters and white sauce from the Kuo-Toa settlement of Looblishar. It
was served on fresh ripplebark, a favorite of yours. “Thank you for this generous meal,
Master.” You bow your head to him for the rare luxury you were about to enjoy for him. You
gratefully savored every bite. In your mind it was the closest you would ever get to feeling
what he did when feasting upon brains. Even then you knew he was far superior and you
were worlds apart. To Zusrall, it was cute that something so simple as a piece of fungi could
bring you happiness. “So, what are we doing today, Master?” You ask, smiling at him.

“Nothing quite so grand or important today. I think we will be staying in today.” Zusrall
replied. You tilted your head in confusion before a frown of concern spread on your face. He
was highly ambitious and outgoing. The last time he stayed in all day was the day he
purchased you. You were the replacement for a prior thrall. He never told you what
happened, but you were able to help your master out of that dark pit in his mind. Was
something wrong now?

Maybe it was the fact that he needed to take you to the temple of Ilsensine to fix your mind.
The psychic surgery to fix it wasn’t cheap. What Vizaness failed to tell Zusrall is that
repeated exposure to the microcosm would make a thrall lose their grip on reality entirely. It
was a consequence of practicing on you. It was alright with you because you got to spend
time with Kalamash as he confronted her. All Vizaness could tell him is that it wasn’t her
fault that Zusrall couldn’t tell he was hurting you and that he would remain a 50%-er if he
couldn’t be more aware. Thankfully, they hid their telepathic bickering from you as you
enjoyed your time with Kalamash that day.

“There is no need for alarm, my favored thrall. I am well.” Zusrall assures you. “Are you
well?” He asked.

“Yes. I’m better. I know this is real because I wouldn’t fantasize about you feeling hurt or
sad, Master.” You replied logically. You weren’t really sure what he had done to you, but you
forgave him anyway.

“Good…” There was a hint of relief in his voice. “I was thinking we could merely relax
today. It’s just us today.” He finally explains his reasoning. It was that simple?

You nod, silently accepting his answer. Finishing your meal, you clear the table and start
cleaning the dishes. You can’t help but feel like there’s something more. “Is there anything
else on your mind, Master?” You ask him. He’s silent for several moments. “Those fantasies
you had, the ones about kissing me… How would you like to make them a reality?”

His question made your entire body heat up. Your cheeks flushed red. You softly gasped.
“But Master, I thought we were staying in today.” You foolishly point out, thinking that you
were going to The Breeding Pen. Of course, it was logical to you. You’ve never done any
sexual activity in the domicile. Your master forbade it. You weren’t even allowed to
masturbate, no matter how pent up you got thinking about a thrall you enjoyed or the other
illithids. It ensured you were always ready to please.

Your master approaches you from behind as you clean the dishes. Zusrall’s hand firmly
squeezes your butt. “You are correct. I am temporarily suspending my usual house rule.”
Two of his tentacles caress your thighs. The other two tenderly wrap around your waist. “You
still have not answered my question.” His mental voice was sweet and teasing. His tentacles
on your thighs stop just short of touching your most intimate parts. You let out a soft moan as
he teased you.

“I would be honored…” You whispered. You felt so naughty, even with your master’s
permission. The mere thought that he would use you and take you all for himself, left you
unimaginably aroused.

One of his tentacles slips around the back of the golden collar around your neck, pulling it
taut against your throat. “I need you to speak up.” Zusrall wanted you to say it louder. Your
face was beet red as he threatened to push you into a lustful frenzy.

“I would be honored, master!”

“You’re so obedient for me. Such a good and loyal thrall. I think you’ve earned the privilege
of breaking a couple rules today.”

You found it hard to think as you absentmindedly rub a soapy rag on your plate in a circular
motion. You feel a mental command to drop everything you were doing. Zusrall’s tentacle
slides to the front of your collar. He pulls you away from your chore and towards your
chambers. You so desperately wanted to pull off your clothing once inside your room. You
wanted him to ravish you. What Zusrall didn’t tell you is that oysters are a libido increasing
food, and he may have added a little bit of a black market enhancement. Succubus spittle
from a Possessor Creed contact. The deal was good and cheap.

Zusrall pushes you against the wall in your room, pinning your arms up with his hands on
your wrists. “Patience, my thrall. We have plenty of time.” His voice snaps you out of your
thoughts. He didn’t expect the charmed food to have such a profound effect on you. He could
feel the need and desire he instilled in your mind and body, and he seemed to effortlessly
master them both. He released his grip on one of your wrists. His hand cups your chin, tilting
your head up to look at him. You lock eyes with your master. His solid white eyes narrowed,
seeming to study you intently. His thumb slowly slides across your slightly parted lips. His
hand then moves to caress your soft and warm rosy cheek. Time seemed to slow as you bit
your lower lip in anticipation for his next command.

“Kiss me.”

Perhaps it was merely your imagination but you thought there was a hint of desperation in his
command. With your freed hand, you take one of his tentacles and start to kiss it, planting
soft kisses up and down the length of several inches. Zusrall’s breathing starts becoming
heavier. You hoped this was real. If it wasn’t, you didn’t want to wake up. “That’s very
good… It is almost a pity I don’t have lips.”

You knew now for sure that this was real. Never in your wildest fantasies would your master
say something like that. “You are perfect as you are, Master.” You assured him. “I like these
far better.” You hold his tentacle tenderly. Zusrall lets go of your other wrist and pulls off his
robes. He was quite fit for an illithid in the Nourisher Creed. His tentacles begin to undress
you. They slide against your skin in a sensual manner. They skillfully tug and pull away your
robes. He knew that your words were true, but the enjoyment you felt from kissing Kalamash
gnaws at the back of his mind. He privately thinks about dominating a thrall so that he could
feel lips against yours, even if it were vicariously.

Zusrall pushes you onto your bed. He brings himself on top of you, pinning your arms down
once again. His tentacles caress and explore every inch of your body. He’s never explored
you so thoroughly before. His fingers intertwined with yours and he filled your mind with his
desires. They manifested as soft whispers, growing ever careless in their content. “Mine…
You’re mine… My perfect thrall.” Even the constant hum of the Elder Brain grew quieter to
Zusrall compared to the connection you were entering. Your bodies ached for each other.
Zusrall would soon learn why succubus spittle was a black market item.

You both begin to lose yourselves in one another as Zusrall sits up, bringing you with him
with his levitation. You felt weightless in his lap as you cling to him. You kiss him as he
begins filling you and rubbing you with his tentacles. Every sensation both physical and
mental was filled by him. He held you close, resting his slimy forehead against yours. It felt
cool. It felt like comfort to you.

Your mind becomes hazy. Your thoughts become one. You moan and shiver in unison. You
feel yourself sweating as you build up each other's desire. You feel yourself dive deeper into
the connection with Zusrall. Pleasure. Excitement. Exertion. Need. Desire. Understanding.
Trust. Something almost unheard of in the illithid mind appeared. Something only possible
because of you. These were feelings no resonance stone could fulfill. It came suddenly,
without warning, from both your minds in unison.

“I love you!”
The words physically shook Zusrall’s entire being. It ran through you like a current of
electricity. Zusrall dropped you, but you were thankfully no more than a couple inches off of
his lap. Your entire body writhes and shakes as you let out a long and loud moan. You fall
back on your bed, a giggling mess. You couldn’t think of anything to say other than
“Wow…”

No matter how he tried, Zusrall couldn’t say it again. Those three words meant nothing to
Zusrall his whole life. He realized he doesn't know what that phrase meant, yet he felt it. It
was indescribable. Zusrall blushes, growing flustered as he tried to work towards something
he could say. He needed something he could understand. “You…” He panted in a gooey
voice as he was trying to gain his bearings. “You’re the finest thrall I’ve ever owned…” He
finishes his sentence.

“Thank you. I enjoy working hard for your praise, Master.” You tell him modestly. The
intense emotion he felt just now has since cooled, but the embers remained in his mind.
Zusrall gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

“It’s time for us to get cleaned up.” He helps you up from the bed, and you feel his tentacle
give you a playful smack on your bottom which makes you gasp softly. “My rule is back in
effect, so make yourself decent when you are done. I will be resting in my pool on the
balcony.”

“Yes, Master.” You affirmed. You got to work cleaning yourself, gently wiping away the
illithid slime from your body. You think about how this was so much easier when your master
had other thralls washing you. Especially when it comes to washing your back. You look
forward to your next trip to The Breeding Pen. Getting dressed into a clean white linen tunic,
you climb into bed. You pull the blanket over yourself and hug your cherished stuffed deep
rothe doll. It was the first gift your master ever gave you. It was now a little worn. It was
missing one of it’s moonstone button eyes, but all that mattered was that it was from Zusrall.

As you lay there, your mind drifts to one of your favorite daydreams. You wished you were a
powerful adventurer. In your daydreams you were a rogue, an unseen force from the shadows
that would bring your master glory and power. You knew you were little more than a whore
but it was nice to dream sometimes. You slowly drift off with a smile on your face. As you
sleep, Zusrall briefly watches you. He looked at you as if watching a sleeping kitten. His
tentacles curl in contentment before he carefully and quietly closes your door.

If asked, he could simply tell his superiors it was an experiment gone wrong. Perhaps he
might even get a reward for selling out the illithid that sold him the succubus spittle. He
certainly had no plans to use it again, no matter how tempting it was. If he found himself in
trouble, It was the price he would pay, and he would be happy to pay it. He would say the
experience with you was excellent and expensive.
 The Breeding Pen Pt. 4
Chapter Summary

HOT SQUID ON SQUID ACTION

Zusrall starts to warm up to the idea that he has feelings for (you), even if he is still
trying to figure them out.

It was breeding day once again! You almost never took off your golden collar anymore. It
only came off your neck when you slept and when it needed to be cleaned and polished. As
you eagerly ate your food and tended to your master’s daily needs, you wondered who you’d
be entertaining this time.

“Vizaness wishes to meet with me… And yes, Kalamash will be there.” He answers you
before you could even speak. He doesn’t look up from his desk as he sips his deep rothe
broth. He had to attend whether he liked it or not. She was a higher ranking illithid in the
same creed as him. You perk up at the mention of Kalamash. It was a bit of work to make
him fit, but you didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Did something happen between you two? It’s been a while since I saw them…” You asked.

“It is nothing to concern yourself with.” Zusrall replies. You blink slowly at his reply.

“So they did have a falling out.” You think to yourself.

“I heard that.” You jump a bit at that. “We did not have a falling out. Merely a disagreement
of business practices. This meeting is intended to… Resolve that. Preoccupy your mind with
something else.” Zusrall attempts to shift your mind away from the uncomfortable topic.

You let out a hum as you chew through some deep rothe jerky. He stops focusing on your
thoughts as you begin thinking about your solo session with Zusrall. Love? It seemed a little
different from the books your master gave you. Your entire small library of 23 novels were
filled with tragedies and romances. Your master thought they were worthless drivel. He
couldn’t understand the appeal, but they made you happy. The one about the illithid and the
drow was your favorite.
When you finished eating and you cleaned up from breakfast, you eagerly allowed your
master to hook the chain to your collar and lead you to The Breeding Pen. You peeked at the
main pen on your way to the back. A goblin female is becoming the latest experiment in
genetic diversity. Your jaw drops as you witness an ulitharid with two thralls heading towards
a private room. Both have platinum collars. One was a handsome human man and a tiefling
woman with ram-like horns. “Master, isn’t that…?” You point them out.

“Don’t point!” Zusralls scolds. He quickly pulls you to the private room before Vebava could
notice him. “I knew it. I called it. That slut!” He thinks to himself. It looks like Vizaness
hasn’t arrived yet. “She called a meeting and I’m here before her?? How rude…”

“Maybe she got caught up?” You speculate, sitting on the bed in the room.

“It’s called fashionably late.” Vizaness enters soon after with Kalamash. The burly half-orc
perks up and smiles the instant he sees you.

“Remember our recent training. Go help your playmate get ready for you. Zusrall and I must
talk.” She glides over to Zusrall’s side, sitting close to him on a bench in the room. Zusrall
tentacles shyly retreat from her, as he tries to keep them to himself. “Surely you’re not still
mad at me!”

“No… You still should have told me the risks of the microcosm, but you are right that I
should have paid better attention.” Zusrall responds. He watches as Kalamash uses his
mouth to get you worked up. You praise him with shaky breaths and soft moans.

“Everytime I see you, your bond with that thrall is stronger.” Her voice was sweet and
teasing. It made Zusrall’s stomach drop. What did she want? What was she after? “I know
what you want. I suspected it since the day I trained your thrall.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Zusrall glares at her. Vizaness stares at him
blankly.

“I see the way you think about them, Zusrall. Perhaps your bond is getting a little too
strong.” She tells him.

“WHAT!? Ridiculous! I’m starting to think you took my prize thrall’s garbage books as
serious literature!” Zusrall retorts.

“Oh? And you’re not at all the slightest bit jealous of Kalamash? Not even a tiny bit?” She
pushed at his nerves.
“Did you have something important to discuss or did you call me here to spout nonsense and
bully me?” Zusrall was getting angry and worked up.

“I have an interesting proposition. How about some good and cheap fun? A little game if you
will. Something of a dominance tournament in the bedroom. Here’s the twist. We swap
thralls.” She proposes. One of her tentacles reaches out and grabs Zusrall’s tentacle. His
cheeks flushed pale.

“V-vizaness…! This is truly perverse…” His heart raced.

“What’s wrong? Don’t think you can handle Kalamash? Don’t you want to ravish your cute
thrall and make them scream your name?” She teased. His entire face turned pale and he
started to squirm. Vizaness let out a gooey giggle at how his breath hitched. The mental
imagery she imprinted on Zusrall left him gasping softly. She loved how weak it made him.

You and Kalamash briefly stop to look at your masters, wondering what was going on.
“Come on. How can you be a top breeder if you can’t handle this?” She taunted, sliding over
to sit in his lap. “I do like you, you know. I just want what’s best for you, but you’ll never
surpass me like this.” She taunted.

“I already told you-! Fine. You think I’m weak? I’ll show you weakness.” Zusrall says, taking
on her challenge.

“I don’t think they’re paying attention…” Kalamash whispers to you. He’s on top of you,
kissing your neck.

“Don’t mind me. I’m just assuming direct control.” You hear Vizaness in your mind. Your
eyes lock with Kalamash. Your movements were not your own as you caress Kalamash’s
cheek. “Don’t worry. Zusrall is keeping Kalamash company. Let’s see what we can do…”

Zusrall looked down at your face through Kalamash’s eyes. He could kiss you. He could kiss
you right now. “Well? Are you just going to stare?” Your voice comes out though it was not
your words. You willingly took a mental backseat, becoming a spectator in your own
pleasure, you were a little confused, however. Why would he want to dominate Kalamash?
His tentacles were far superior. The answer hit you as Kalamash’s lips meet yours in
passionate fervor. He started kissing you everywhere. Your neck, your shoulder, your
collarbone.
Zusrall had to savor this. It was his one opportunity to kiss you. He took advantage of it
feverishly. It left you breathless. “We top breeders play some very dangerous games with our
thralls... It can be very easy to cherish our favorite things. If you treat them as anything other
than thralls, you might lose control of them. Don't get too attached... We both learned that
lesson the hard way once before. They're just pretty playthings and tools. They will never be
like you and I." Vizaness tells him.

Did you see a frown on Kalamash’s face? Was that Zusrall in emotional pain? His face
becomes stern just as quickly. “I understand your concerns but I am not some low rank
grimlock breeder. I don’t think you really understand the gravity of the position you’ve put
yourself into…” Kalamash moves to pin you down. Zusrall simultaneously had Vizaness
pinned. For just a moment Zusrall could pretend you and he were equals through Kalamash.

He wasn’t sure why that thought entered his head and he didn’t push it away. Vizaness
couldn’t quell this feeling inside him. He would master it. He would wield it as a weapon. He
would prove Vizaness wrong. You were begging him to take you. “Make me understand,
Zusrall.” Vizaness dared him. She squeezes his tentacles with her own, testing to see how far
she could push his concentration. Kalamash and Zusrall both let out a soft moan at her
teasing. He regains his bearings and recovers. Zusrall resumes control and Kalamash thrusts
into your needy hole. Thankfully you were already prepped for entry. You and Vizaness both
let out a cry of pleasure, but her hold on your mind remains firm. You feel your legs
wrapping around Kalamash’s waist. Your hips were moving on their own! “You’ll have to do
better than that!” Vizaness taunted him smugly.

You felt yourself desiring to regain control of your mind. Every thrust was an assault upon
Vizaness’ control. You needed to be close to Zusrall in both body and mind. You felt him
calling to you. He was trying to call you back, whether he meant to or not. Your hands
trembled. “Come to me. I know you want to. I know you can.” His voice echoes in your
mind. You regain control of your hands and pull Kalamash into a passionate kiss, knowing
Zusrall would feel it.

“How dare you!” Vizaness gasps.

“You wanted a dominance game, Vizaness. You got one and you lost.” He pins her down and
squeezes her tentacles in kind to repay her for her teasing.

“Oh FUCK!” She squealed in a high pitched gooey voice.

“Don’t ever doubt my control of my thrall again. They are no mere toy. They are an
instrument of my destiny. You have seen their loyalty.”

Vizaness finds herself shivering on the floor. She was utterly defeated, yet it felt too good to
get out of your thoughts. Meanwhile on the bed Kalamash has pulled out of you. Zusrall
makes him pull you on top, and your master encourages you to ride him. “We are victorious.
Claim your prize, my thrall!” He then returns control of Kalamash’s body to him. You ride
the larger half-orc eagerly. His bucking hips push his girthy cock deep inside you. He moans
under you, with a dazed look of pleasure on his face.

“Kalamash! Sto… I can’t think!” Vizaness whimpers in a gooey voice, slowly losing control.

“Don’t stop! More!” You encouraged

“What’s wrong? Don’t think you can handle Kalamash? Looks like the ravished one is you,
dear rival.” Zusrall taunted.

Their tentacles curled and writhed against one another. You couldn’t tell who’s mind you
were linked to anymore. “Oh fuck! Breed me, Kalamash!” You moaned desperately. Every
movement pushed you closer and closer. Kalamash lets out a barbaric grunt as he fills you
with his seed. Pulling another page out of rival mentor’s book, Zusral directed the half-orc’s
orgasm through you and Vizaness. “Ohhh Yess!!” You cried out. You slowly slide off of
Kalamash when you come out of your pleasant stupor. His seed drips out of you as you lean
over to kiss him.

Vizaness stirs and she giggles softly. “Wow… You sure showed me…” Vizaness admitted
defeat. Zusrall gets off of her and helps her up. “You are worthy of the top 40% after all, and
perhaps even beyond. I’ll put in my recommendation for you. This was a test. You passed.
We’re even now, yes?”

You smile, happy for Zusrall! “Congratulations on your promotion, Master!”

“That was a fun game. Thanks for playing with me.” Kalamash was a good sport about being
on the “losing” team as he cleans you up with gentle care. You softly pat his cheek and give
his soft hair a ruffle.

“Yes. We are even now.” Zusrall agrees. He hooks your leash to your collar once more after
you get dressed.
“I won’t make it so easy for you next time.” Vizaness’ voice had a playful determination to it.

“We shall see.” Zusrall said smugly. “It was a pleasure.” He shakes his fellow illithid’s hand
as if they had done nothing more than play a card game. You and Zusrall then depart. Despite
the fact that you had just spent time with Kalamash, there was a pep in your step.

As soon as the door to Zusrall’s domicile was closed, your master picked you up bridal style.
You were surprised by how he swept you off your feet. He presses his tentacle to your lips
and you kiss him. “I take it I did good today?” You ask.

“You were perfect. I would expect nothing less of a perfect thrall… Thank you.” He responds.
It was the first time he’d ever thanked you for anything. The words in your mind made your
heart flutter.

“You’re welcome. I’m always happy to serve you, Master.” You hold onto him as he brings
you to your bedroom. He gently places you on your bed. You watched him slowly move over
to your stack of books inspecting them. What did he want with those? You thought he didn’t
like them!

“I want you to read one of these… Novellas to me. Perhaps if I could view it from your mind,
I might understand why you like them.” He requests of you. Your eyes widen at his request
and you get a big smile on your face.

“I would be most happy to! Pick anything from the stacks.” You tell him. You sit up, hugging
your stuffed deep rothe doll while waiting for him to choose.

Zusrall inspects the stacks of neatly stacked books when one of them catches his eye.
“Tender Rogue?” He knew about your daydreams so it made sense to him for you to be
drawn to the title. The cover had a beautifully illustrated picture of a human male
swashbuckler at sea. He hangs onto a rope from the ship’s rigging in one hand. His other arm
is wrapped around the waist of a lascivious looking half-elf harlot.

“I actually haven’t read that one yet! It’s about a half-elf woman named Gallahne who wants
to go home to Baldur’s Gate by ship. She sneaks aboard a ship called The Maiden Star
disguised as a cabin boy. She then is forced into intimate servitude by the captain, Stuth
Tarrenflare.” You recall details about the synopsis.
“Interesting… I want you to read this one to me.” Zusrall carefully pulls the book from the
stack and hands it to you. At his command, you release your deep rothe toy and eagerly slide
over to light a candle. You pat the bed next to you, subtly asking him to join you. He hesitates
a moment before floating to your side. You move your pillows so he can rest his head
comfortably. “This bed is almost nicer than my own…”

“Oh, Master. I’m sure that’s not true!” You blush softly at his comment.

“So humble, as a perfect thrall should be.” He gently wraps a tentacle around your arm.

You follow through on his command with a soft smile as you open the book and begin to
read. You read passages describing the rotten luck of the half-elf protagonist in Amn. She had
been robbed at the inn she was staying at and was forced to stay in squalid accommodations.
In a conversation that Gallahne has with a dwarf man named Maggurn, it’s revealed that she
is betrothed to someone else at the start of the tale.

“They wouldna have let ye wed the laddie until ye were eighteen, regardless that he did the
asking two years afore that.” You put on your best dwarven accent to immerse your master
into the story.

“Humanoids have such strange rituals. What is the point of a wedding when you could
simply mate and raise young without it?” Zusrall asked.

“From what I understand… It’s to symbolize the bond between people. A deeper connection.
It’s an emotional union. The characters in these stories make a vow to be together forever.”
You try to explain. Zusrall’s tentacles writhe gently as he ponders what you just told him.
Was it like the connection you formed that day? He needed to learn more. He wanted to
understand. He wanted a window into the world you saw in your stories.

“I see… That is fascinating. Please continue reading.” He instructs.

“Very well, Master.” You clear your throat and begin again.

You read 5 chapters in. Gallahne finally meets her fiance only to find out that in the 6 years
she’s waited to marry him, he married someone else! You gasp. “No! So scandalous!”

“He broke his vow to her so easily? Their bond must not have been as strong as she
thought… I have to know what happens next.” Zusrall tells you to read the next chapter. In
the next chapter, A heartbroken Gallahne tells Maggurn to pawn off a ring given to her by her
father so she can buy passage back home. Zusrall senses your eyes tiring. “This seems like a
good stopping point for now.” Your master allows you to place a bookmark between the
pages. You set the book on your end table and blow out the candle. He pulls you close to
him.

“Master?” You whispered softly in his embrace. His hold made you blush. You couldn’t
figure him out. Why was he doing this?

“I feel comfort when I am close to you. It produces a more intense version of the sensation
you get when you hug that toy I gave you. Let us stay like this… Just for a little while.”
Zusrall explains.

“I feel the same…” Within minutes you realize he had fallen asleep holding you. You debate
on whether or not you should attempt to wake him before you settle upon letting him rest. He
had a big day, he deserved it. You hold perfectly still for him before drifting off yourself.
 Thrall Bride
Chapter Summary

I was listening to oldie's music while writing this. This is not a chapter meant to be taken
seriously. It's absolutely a joke.

“Honey, I’m home!” Dallimeze announced as he entered his domicile.

“Dalli! Darling!” She smiled brightly, cooking a stew on a cauldron. “I made your favorite!
Ripplebark stew!” She cheerfully tells him. She knew he couldn’t taste it, so all the rations
were for her to eat. She shared the flavor with him vicariously when he read her mind.

Her name was Caramyn. She was a rock gnome. Her hair in the style of curled bobs was
orange. Her eyes were emerald green and her tiny form was dainty. When breaking her will
and turning her into a thrall, Caramyn mistakenly believed that she was betrothed and
immediately identified Dallimeze as her husband. He never once tried to fix it with psychic
surgery. It was frankly too embarrassing to explain how badly they fucked up to the elder
brain. Dallimeze had another secret that he knew “fixing her'' would ruin…

Dallimeze took off his boots. She slid a tub of warm water to his favorite chair in the sitting
room, so he could lounge and relax. The illithid floats into the chair, sinking his feet into the
tub with a soft sigh. “I went on down to the brain brokerage and got you a special treat too!”
She gives him his dinner on a tray. A drow’s brain in cerebrospinal fluid.

“Aw, you shouldn’t have!” Dallimeze sounds delighted as he digs into his dinner. She
patiently waits for him to savor the brain before getting herself a bowl of ripplebark stew. “I
do love your cooking. Thank you for sharing it with me.” He uses his taste link psionic
discipline in order to taste the nutty flavor of ripplebark.

“Sooo, how was work, darling?”

“It was swell, Caramyn. Your “Pear of Anguish” device went over swimmingly with the
Abysmal Creed today. Although they did laugh at the name until they saw it in action on a
thrall.” Dallimeze reports. Dallimeze was a member of the Abysmal Creed. He and Caramyn
came up with new torture devices. Caramyn was unusual for a thrall in that one so intelligent
would have been eaten, but Dallimeze took right to her. He also took credit for her work in
public, but the truth was more than half of what was made all came from Caramyn’s mind.
When she wasn’t making torture devices, the rock gnome had a hobby making candles, some
of which are given as gifts to guests.

“And you didn’t go anywhere else after work?” She asks.

“What? Of course not.” Dallimeze responds.

“Oh really?? What’s this then?” She holds up a qualith tablet with an invitation to meet with
Zusrall in the private rooms of The Breeding Pen. Dallimeze’s eyes widened in shock.

“I’ve told you not to touch those! It’s not safe! It could temporarily cause madness in your
mind!” Dallimeze scolded.

“Oh, I’m mad alright! You cheated on me again! How could you!?” Caramyn glared at
Dallimeze. The deranged rock gnome was betrayed again!

“It’s not what you think! I was just testing the merchandise!” Dallimeze waves his arms in a
disarming manner.

“You’re always ‘Just testing’! When are you going to bring home a mate so we can start a
family?!” Caramyn protests.

“You’re the only rock gnome here! I can’t pair you up with a deep gnome! They’re ugly! You
deserve better than ugly babies!” Dallimeze attempts to calm her with flattery.

“I’ll take a human! If I can take your tentacles, I can take a human! But it looks like you
found other places to stick your tentacles!” Caramyn seethes.

“Honey…”

“Don’t you ‘honey’ me!” She grabs her step stool from her washing basin and stomps
towards Dallimeze. She places it at the illithid’s feet, stomps up the stairs and grabs his
tentacles, yanking them down to force him to face level with the gnome.

“Ouch!” Dallimeze cries out with a pathetic gooey voice.

“How many times do I have to tell you that these!” She squeezes his tentacles for emphasis,
causing him to let out a pained gurgle. “Are mine!?” The little gnome growled.
“I’m sorry!”

“That’s not going to work this time!” She lets go of his tentacles and returns to the wash
basin with her step stool. She scrubs the dishes angrily. “I can’t believe my husband is such a
pig!”

“Caramyn! Honey! Please!” He pleads with his thrall to listen to him. He could easily
dominate her mind, yet he chooses not to yet. She had no idea how much it excited him to
beg, plead and look pathetic. Dallimeze always secretly loved the feeling of being helpless
and humiliated. It gave him a retreat from all the expectations placed on him. He knew that if
his colony ever found out this secret, he would surely be exiled. He purposely presented
himself as pathetic, and unfaithful to earn her scorn. The cold shoulder drove him nuts with
adrenaline.

He grovels before her, his tentacles reaching for her ankles. She steps upon the tip of one by
“accident.” causing Dallimeze to hiss. “Oh I’m sorry! Did I step on you by accident??” She
says with a malicious sweetness in her voice. He couldn’t help it anymore. He dominates her
mind. She stops washing the dishes.

“Dominate me!” He knew this was anathema to his entire society. If it was wrong he didn’t
want to be right. She comes down from the step stool and carries it under her arm.

“I’ll fix you once and for all.” She grins, then she grips his tentacle with a free hand and
makes him follow her to the “Torture Lab.” This room of the domicile was filled with all
manner of torture devices, Some were Caramyn’s unfinished projects. Others were devices
meant to hold thralls and torture subjects in uncomfortable and compromising positions. She
yanks him into a kneeling position and slaps a collar and chain around the illithid’s neck. She
then locks the chain to the wall using the step stool to reach where it would hook to.

“You’re such an ungrateful pig! I clean for you, I cook for you, and this is the thanks I get?!
You pervert! What am I going to do with such an unfaithful husband!?” She scolded him. “I
know what to do with you… Let’s see if you can figure it out.” She stands over the illithid
groveling on the floor before her, swinging the keys on her finger before tossing them out of
his reach.
Dallimeze eagerly reads her mind. He gets excited seeing what she thinks about doing to him.
Making him please her. Making him look at her in all her dainty glory. She was small but she
was powerful in his fantasies, in his private life. “Take off your clothes. They need to be
washed anyway. If you want me to keep doing your dishes, sewing your clothes, and helping
you with your projects, you’ll do as I say. You took your vows to me. You’ll do anything for
me,right?” She looks him in the eyes, making him look at her. The truth was, there were no
vows. There was no wedding. It was all in her head and he didn’t have the heart to tell her
otherwise. He didn’t want to.

“Yes. Anything. Anything for you.” He said eagerly.

“Then you’re going to tell me why you keep doing this to me.” She demands.He gulped. He
didn’t expect her to ask him!

“It’s highly embarrassing!”

“Oh please, you’ve already embarrassed yourself enough. Look at you.” She points out. Her
words stunned him. It was true and it only made him lose his inhibitions completely.

“I like it when you get mad at me! It feels good when you call me a pig and hurt me! Oh
Ilsensine’s tentacles, I’m so fucked up!”

Caramyn looked at him for several moments, shocked. “Oh Dalli, why didn’t you say so
earlier, sweetie!? You know I love you! You were making me mad for the attention you
wanted?” Her voice suddenly became tender and loving once more. Dallimeze lets out an
embarrassed whine and nods.

“Oh, darling! You sweet weirdo.” She smooches his forehead. “I’ll do this any time you
want, but first! A few ground rules!”She smirks, sounding serious once more. “No more
Breeding Pen. If we find a mate to start our family I am picking them out. Second of all,
these tentacles are mine! I work all day to keep this house in order for you! I deserve to feel
good too. I don’t like to share.” She tells him.

“Yes, honey…” If he could have this whenever he wanted, he didn’t need such a good and
cheap place anymore. He had a thrall who was excellent and free at home.

Caramyn takes off her underwear, and stuffs them into his mouth. The humiliation of being
treated this way was agonizingly heavenly to Dallimeze. “You know what I want. Get to
work!” She commands. Dallimeze starts wrapping them around her thighs and body. He
practically worshiped her in this position. They slide across every inch of her, teasing all her
erogenous zones. She grabs one of his tentacles and guides it to go inside of her moist slit.

“Oohh yes… That’s right. Who do these tentacles belong to?”

“You!” Dallimeze spits her panties out of his mouth to respond eagerly.

“That’s right!” She moans. “These are mine! You’re mine!” She grinds her clit against
another tentacle. His breathing gets heavier as Dallimeze gets lost in her pleasure. He tugs
against the chain and collar around his neck, enjoying the feeling of the cold iron pressing
against it.

“Yes! Yes, my dear wife! You’re all I need!” Dallimeze allows the gnome to believe her
delusions about him.

“That’s right. Are those thralls prettier than me?” She interrogates him, squeezing another
tentacle roughly with her free hand. She intricately mixes pain and pleasure like a
professional chef.

“N-No!” He lets out a gooey cry, shivering as he works harder to please her.

“Oooh… Can they do what I do to you?” She squeezes once more.

“Noooooo!” He’s left a panting mess from that. He doesn't dare to stop providing pleasure.

“Then you have no more reason to play with thralls… You’re mine… And don’t you forget…
IT!” Her speech gets more and more strained as she reaches her orgasm. Dallimeze dutifully
holds her up with his tentacles to prevent her from falling over. “I still love you…” Caramyn
panted. “Even though you are naughty…” She giggled. She then releases him from the chain
to the wall, causing him to drop to the floor completely. She gets a towel and lovingly wipes
him down. There was an indentation in his neck from the chain. “Oh my, you pulled quite a
bit this time.”

“Ah… Ahah…” A gooey giggle from her lover. “I’m sorry for being such a bad husband…
You won’t tell anyone about this, right?”

“Oh, Dalli, I know how much trouble you’d be in if this got out. They don’t understand you
like I do.” She rests his head in her lap. “But if you ever cheat on me again, I’ll scream it
from the balcony.” The tiny gnome threatened.
“I promise I’ll be a faithful husband!” His tentacles squirm as he tries to assure her. He
couldn’t have that.

“Good. Come on. Let’s get you to bed, dear. I’ll get your clothes cleaned tomorrow.” She
picks up this robes and her slime covered underwear, throwing them into a wicker basket
designated for dirty clothes. She takes off her apron, changing into a tiny silk robe for bed.
Their “marital bed” was the traditional moss bed with a tiny dry moss bed on top so they
could share it comfortably. Dallimeze rested by her side, wrapping a sore tentacle around her
wrist. The wedding dress in her delusions was beautiful. He wished he could marry her for
real.

“Goodnight, honey.” Dallimeze says contently.

“Goodnight, darling.” Caramyn gives his tentacle a smooch as they fall asleep together.
 And They Were More Than Roommates
Chapter Summary

Geddask and Madalyn go on a date.

The plague-doctor like figure aimed their crossbow at the target they set up in Madalyn's
backyard. She kept the fence in good repair. It was shady, with obscuring trees and plants
along the fence line. It was made to keep prying eyes on the street level out. They pull the
trigger. The sigils on it dimly flash as an arcane bolt pierces into the target. Deceptively
delicate mechanical arms automatically reload the string. "Satisfactory." Geddask seems
happy with this first line testing. They return to the house, embracing the darkness of
Madalyn's home. They take off the mask, their tentacles wiggling from their beak shaped
confines.

Madalyn sips their tea in the dark next to a candle in the kitchen. "How'd it go?" She asks.

"The reloading mechanism of the repeating shot crossbow does indeed work, although it
would need a real combat situation to determine durability. " Geddask replies.

"It would be ideal if you never had to use it." Madalyn says. "It's good that you're making
progress. May it never fail you." She says before taking a sip of her tea.

Geddask carefully set their crossbow against the wall. "Thank you." Their eyes turn to
Madalyne. They couldn't get that evening out of their head. The raven haired wizard
enchanted their thoughts as of late. By candle light she looked like a symbol of power in their
eyes. "The weather seemed what one would call lovely." They comment.

Madalyn raised a brow. Since when did Geddask care about the weather? They hated sunny
days! It was why their goggles in their mask were tinted. “Are you doing anything today?"
Geddask asked.

"I've begun scribing a scroll today. Otherwise, no. Did you need to go somewhere?" Madalyn
answers them.
"Madalyn… Could we conduct another 'experiment'?" Geddask asked. Madalyn produces
her pipe from her bag of holding, another thing made by the artificer for her. "Oh, no. Not
that kind of experiment. Not yet." Geddask blushed. Madalyn cocks her head to the side.

"So what exactly are you asking for? Don't beat around the bush." She sounded bored but a
small smile played on her lips.

"Could we… Watch a play at the Pink Flumph theater together?" Geddask asked, poking
their gloved fingers together.

Madalyn sips her tea thoughtfully. "When?"

"This evening." Geddask replies.

"Very well. I shall meet you here this evening."

"Thank you, Madalyn." Geddask picks up their crossbow and hurries to the basement.
Madalyn returns upstairs to continue scribing her scroll of Passwall. It was a gift for Geddask
should he ever need it. She wondered about Geddask’s intentions before deciding that she
was reading too much into it. For the rest of the day the two worked on their own personal
projects until it was time to catch a carriage to the theater.

Geddask was eating a brain from a jar as they waited for her downstairs. Madalyn comes
down in a flowing black dress. She wore make-up consisting of dark red lipstick with black
eyeshadow. Her raven hair was adorned with a silver headband with a crimson jewel.
Geddask stared at her in awe. The jar slips from their grasp. They just barely catch it with a
tentacle.

"You look like a painting…" Geddask says. Madalyn could see that Geddask had gone
through the effort of putting a nicer looking cloak on their disguise and pinning a corsage
made from the back yard flowers. They hurriedly put on their mask to hide their blushing
face.

"You look handsome as well." Madalyn held in a laugh, and barely hid her smile. Geddask
ensures their disguise is in place, they head to the front door, opening it for her. Walking
down to Immar Street, they caught a carriage that would take them to their destination in the
Castle Ward.
Although they were silent the entire time of their trip, they carried on a silent conversation
psionically.

“What possessed you to want to see a play?” Madalyn asked.

“To see what the fuss was about. Believe it or not, I do like to come out of the basement
sometimes… Waterdeep is a far different place than Oryndoll. Our entertainment is savage…
My colony doesn’t have playwrights. The arts are pilfered from everyone else. Our culture is
stolen from others. Waterdeep isn’t like that… Your people craft because they want to. You
don’t have to steal, pillage and bribe to get things of beauty and quality craftsmanship. In
trying to see the big picture, they miss the little details.” Geddask explained their thoughts on
their old home.

“Well when you put it that way… It’s good to get out of the house sometimes too. What play
are we seeing?” The wizard validated Geddask’s point

“The Kiss of the Lamia.” Geddask answers.

Madalyn had heard of this particular play, though she’d never seen it herself, she heard it was
a popular evening show. It was an evening tragic play about a prince from Mulhorand who,
after being banished to a desert and being charmed by a lamia, returned home to reconquer
his kingdom.

Their carriage lets them out at the theater and Madalyn purchases two tickets for the show.
The lobby was decorated with a red carpet and wooden mannequins dressed as characters
from several famous plays. Entrance into the auditorium was granted through two ticket
booths with individual ticket offices one on each side. The interior of the Pink Flumph was lit
by lanterns enchanted with continual flame spells. Within the theater and backstage, the lights
could be dimmed and raised via command words known to the stage managers. Geddask
takes in their surroundings. They’d never seen anything like this before.

“It’s rather grandiose…” He telepathically tells Madalyn.

“At least the seats are comfortable.” She responds, getting herself comfortable.They
patiently waited for the show to begin. About an hour in, when the Mulhorandi prince is
wandering the desert after his exile, Geddask had gotten bored of the play and fallen asleep in
their chair. Madalyn only noticed because she would nudge them when she wanted to
telepathically tell them something and they didn’t immediately respond.

“Geddask…?” She whispered. She gently shook the illithid in disguise.

“I fell asleep.”

Madalyn laughed softly. “We can leave if you want to. You needn’t stay if you’re bored.” she
whispered to them.

“I suppose not every experiment ends in a success.” They say, rising from their seat to leave
with Madalyn. She whispers a few “excuse me”’s to the other patrons.

She pays for a carriage back to her home in Black Dog Alley. She looks at the dusk sky as the
carriage begins to roll to their destination. The leaves were beginning to turn for fall. She
silently allowed Geddask to see the world through her eyes, in the colors she saw it, rather
than their tinted lenses. “I quite like this… Season? Is that what you call them?” Geddask
asks for confirmation.

“Yes. This is Autumn. My favorite season is Winter. The chill keeps everyone inside and the
city is quieter.” Madalyn tells them.

“I think I enjoy the pleasant coolness of this ‘Autumn.’” Geddask says. They contemplate
putting their hand on hers, but they back out before they can commit to it. “The leaves share
the color of your eyes…” He works up the nerve to tell her.

She blushes at his comment. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Yes. Am I doing it correctly?” They ask. Madalyn quietly begins to laugh. “What? What’s
so funny? Did I say something wrong?” Geddask mentally voices concern.

“Oh, no no! Nothing like that.” She waves her hand at him. “It’s just the… Alien yet
analytical manner in which you approach things. It’s funny because it makes you seem so
innocent… Geddask, you’re the only person who manages to make me laugh like this.”
Madalyn admitted.

She places her hand upon theirs. Geddask reaches up to keep their mask in place as their
tentacles wiggle excitedly in the beak of their mask at the contact of her hand. “I’d like to be
more than roommates with you.” She forces her mind to tell him. Her normally pale and
stoic face had rosy cheeks.

“What would that make us?” Geddask asked. They sense the warmth in her cheeks, and the
racing of her heart. Before she could answer they pulled up to their home.

“I’ll tell you inside.” She says. Geddask walks around to help her out of the carriage. She
walks inside with him and closes her door, locking it securely. She takes a deep breath as
Geddask takes off their mask. She suddenly leans in and kisses Geddask’s cheek, leaving a
lipstick mark where her lips had been. Geddask’s face turns pale from blushing as they drop
the mask, letting it fall to the floor. “Lovers…?” She whispers to him in their quiet and dark
home.

“That… Ahem…” Geddask starts with a gooey voice. ”That’s what that feeling is called?
Love? It’s…Fascinating and terrifying and wonderful all at once. Madalyn, you are the only
person who has ever believed in me. The only one who has ever been kind to me. I know you
think yourself cold, foreboding and unlikable…” Geddask agreed.

Madalyn looked embarrassed at Geddask picking up on her low self esteem. “I see someone
intuitive, ingenious, and selfless. You speak of gilded cages… I am no rogue but I have tools
as an artificer that will remove the hinges from the proverbial door to your cage, if you’ll let
me.” They reach for her hand and hold it. She looks at Geddask and nods, allowing them to
pick her up bridal style. The illithid carries her downstairs while levitating to their space in
the basement.

Madalyn holds onto them as she wonders what happens now. “Would you be willing to do
that other experiment now?” Geddask asked.

“I need to get my pipe.” She tells them.

“I’d like you with a clear head this time. If you can’t relax without it, I won’t stop you.”
Geddask gently sets her on her feet in front of their bed. It’s been so long since she’d been
intimate with anyone, including herself without the influence of cannabis. She seems lost in
thought for several moments, before slowly taking off her dress, letting it slip to the floor.
She takes off her headband and sets it aside.

She trusted them of her own volition. Geddask knew now they didn’t need to dominate her.
She was so much more than a thrall could ever give them. She gave them freedom. Geddask
slips out of their shirt as she kisses their tentacles. With each kiss, the walls built around her
heart slowly tear down, stone by stone. The illithid seats her on the bed of moss, created by
Madalyn’s fabricate spell. Geddask kept the moss alive with a driftglobe and by hand
watering it. It smelled earthy and pleasant to her.

Madalyn was eager, nervous and excited for this “experiment”. She gathers their pillows, of
which there were many to choose from, behind her for comfort. Geddask sits on the floor,
bringing their head between her legs. Her pale face flushed red and she gives Geddask a
rarely seen gentle smile. She caresses their cheeks, her warm touch is enchanting to the
illithid. “You cast spells so effortlessly, you aren’t even aware of them. I can only describe
what your touch does to me as magic.”

“I’ve told you before, I’ve cast no spells.” Madalyn laughed softly.

“I’ll never believe you.” Geddask attempts to play along with humor of their own. The cool
air of the basement made the nipples on Madalyn’s perky breasts harder. One of their purple
tentacles snakes its way up her navel. It felt strange even when she was sober. She embraced
the strange sensation of their wet slimy tentacle skillfully teasing her nipples. The wizard let
out a pleased sigh as she began to relax.

“I’ve not felt like this in a long time.” Madalyn admits.

“This is still new to me. You fill my entire existence with new experiences. I hope that we
share many more.” Geddask tells her. She smiles tenderly at their sentimental words. They
were a little more experienced than before. The illithid knew now what to do with their
tentacles. Geddask eagerly grips her thigh. A tentacle wraps around her ankle. The other two
immediately became a writing mass that rubbed at her pussy and plunged inside of her. The
lubrication of his slimy tentacles made everything fit perfectly, like an artificer’s multitool.

“Oh! Geddask!” Madalyn gasped. Her voice raises in pitch. Her eyes rolled back. Geddask
feels their breath hitch, they’re so focused on pleasing the wizard, they can’t say anything.
Their mind slowly empties of all thoughts. Only Madalyn remained on their mind. Her
pleasure was all that mattered in this moment. Every motion chipped away at her mind’s
barriers. She wanted Geddask to rip the door of her metaphorical gilded cage away. The
wizard tenderly grabs the tentacle sliding against her nipples and plants several kisses against
it. She covered it in lipstick stains. Every kiss sent a pulse of pleasure through them both. She
moaned into every kiss, knowing it brought them closer to release.

Geddask stared at her. She was like a dark angel to them. Her pleasurable cries were like
music. She was their muse, and for the moment they were a bard striking every note. They
followed the tune of her moans and the pulse of her heart to something deeper. A connection
that only Madalyn could make with them. No words were uttered. No sound was made.
Everything grew quiet outside of labored shallow breaths. In the place of the walls around
Madalyn’s heart, something new was building up. Soon their forbidden ritual would be
complete.

Madalyn cried out loudly, releasing her pent up feelings that had for years been neglected.
When she regained her bearings, she smiled at the illithid. Geddask's face and tentacles were
covered in lipstick stains as they blissfully rested their head against her thigh. Their tentacles
wrapped around her waist. She wipes away the lipstick with the corner of Geddask's blanket.
It could always be washed later.

"I love you." Madalyn confessed.

"You are… Priceless to me, Madalyn. I do believe I love you too." This whole love thing was
so strange to Geddask. They couldn't rationalize it as anything other than magic, and they
didn't want to break the spell.

She kisses them once more upon their forehead. "Goodnight, Geddask."

"Sleep well, lover. " Geddask hopes they said that correctly. Their mind is at ease when she
flashed them a smile before going upstairs.

Geddask inspects the corner of the blanket she used to wipe away her lipstick. They take a
pair of scissors from their tool drawer and cut the fabric off from the rest of the blanket. They
didn't want to wash it. The bit of fabric was carefully placed in what Geddask called their
"Sentiment Drawer " filled with souvenirs from their outings with Madalyn. With this, they
became more than roommates.
 Punishment and Reward
Chapter Summary

By far the kinkiest, horniest chapter I have written thus far.

Vebeva gets into even more debauchery with her thralls.

Natiri rarely got a moment alone since the day she’d been punished. The privacy curtain to
her bed in her and Whim’s room had been taken away so Whim could “keep an eye on her”.
Worse still, the mistress had taken to teasing Natiri to work her up. Just today she had gotten
so close to relief only for her mistress to cruelly stop. The feel of her tentacles was agonizing
at this rate.

All was quiet in the domicile. Everyone was asleep, except Natiri. Whim slept peacefully in
his luxurious bed, which had blankets made of griffin down imported from the surface. Natiri
was worked up. She had to finish. There’s no way Vebeva would know as long as she was
quiet. She reaches under her blanket which wasn’t nearly as nice as Whim’s and begins to rub
at her soaked folds. She closes her eyes, relaxing at the relief her hand began to give her. “As
long as I can finish without waking up Whim…” Natiri thought to herself. Her breaths
become shallow and labored. She was edging ever closer to relief. So, so close…

“Well, well, well…” Whim’s voice softly teased behind her. Natiri jolted from what she was
doing. He was wearing a fine silk chemise that only further accentuated how spoiled he was.
“I’m telling.” He gives a smug smile.

“You little shit! Don’t you dare!” Natiri hissed at him.

“Oh, she won’t be happy being woken up by your disobedience!” Whim begins to walk
towards the exit of their room to go wake his mistress. Natiri, in a fit of horny rage, tackled
Whim to the floor. The handsome human thrall lets out a distressed yelp for his mistress as
the naked tiefling pulls him into a Half Nelson pin.

“Mistress, help! Mmmph!” Whim’s cries are muffled by her hand. Vebeva groggily levitates
into the doorway, wearing an indigo silk robe that clung to her body. Her tired mind takes in
the scene before her. The tiefling brat was manhandling her precious man servant!
“NATIRI! Release Whim this instant!” It was the angriest she’d ever heard her mistress in her
mind. Her grip immediately released. Her tail moves between her legs like a dog caught
chewing the furniture. Whim crawled out from under the tiefling and he scurried behind his
ulitharid mistress for safety. “Oh dear, my precious Whim… Did she hurt you?” She cups his
face in her large hands, squishing his cheeks lovingly like one does to a pet.

Whim’s shaky breaths become calm as his mistress comforts him. “N-no. I don’t think so. I
caught her touching herself. I was merely trying to enact your will and inform you as you
asked me to, when she pounced on me like a ravenous animal!” Whim explains to Vebeva
what happened. Vebeva turns to look at Natiri and glares at her. She moves to her and yanks
the remorseful tiefling up by her horns, forcing her to stand.

“And what do you have to say for yourself? You… You absolute cretin! How dare you scare
Whim! You could have hurt him!” Vebeva demands an answer and scolds Natiri.

“I’m sorry! I-I’ve just been so pent up! I couldn’t take it anymore!” Natiri whines.

“And on top of that, you interrupted my sleep!” The ulitharid forces Natiri onto her bed and
feels at the tiefling’s pussy with her right hand, noting the slickness of it. She removes her
fingers as a thick string of clear nectar drips from her fingers and forms a slick webbing
between them. Natiri had been highly aroused, indeed. Vebeva looks at it intently. She
wouldn’t admit this out loud, but to prevent further incidents of violence against her favorite
thrall, she realized she would have to allow Natiri some relief in order to keep her aggression
in check.

Right now, however, Vebeva was angry that her favorite thrall had been frightened. “Look at
me.” She commands Natiri. The tiefling sits up and looks at her. With the same hand, Vebeva
delivers a clean slap to Natiri’s left cheek. Natiri turns her head in the direction her mistress
slapped it. She holds still, taking in the sting. “Don’t you EVER touch Whim like that again.
Do I make myself clear?” Vebeva’s voice was cold, dark and authoritative.

“Yes, mistress. I understand…” Natiri muttered. She glances at Whim. He was in the
doorway with that smug smirk on his face. She hated it. She felt Vebeva probing her mind.
She tried to push her feelings of anger towards Whim away but it was too late. Vebeva
catches onto this anger. It looked like no one would be going back to sleep for a while.
“Whim, I think you deserve a reward. I would like you to help me punish this naughty thrall
again.” Her tone towards Whim was warm and eager. The human man’s response was just as
eager.

“Of course, Mistress. It is always a pleasure to serve you and your sharp wit.” He agrees,
sucking up to Vebeva. Natiri rolled her eyes at Whim’s ass kissing. She’d bet he literally
would if his mistresses asked him to. Vebeva looked at Natiri with an unamused expression
before grabbing her by a horn and pulling her into the sitting room. She forces Natiri to sit on
the floor in front of her favorite table and chair set by the window.

“Whim, have a seat. Get comfortable.” She directs him to a chair. It was a treat when he got
to sit in one of his mistress’ favorite chairs, and he took the opportunity eagerly. The
cushioned seats were like clouds to him. He’s grateful for every time he gets to eat his dinner
with her at this table. Poor Natiri had to sit on the floor and she deserved it for being so mean
to him. Vebeva gets seated in the other chair.

“You’ve been a very bad thrall, Natiri. If you don’t straighten up your attitude, I’ll sell you off
as a good and cheap whore to Zusrall. Or maybe Erux will enjoy waving you as a status
symbol before them? Wouldn’t that be amusing, Whim?” She teasingly threatens Natiri.
Whim gives a hearty and smug laugh at his mistress’ imagination.

“Oh ho ho! Could you imagine? Such an exotic thrall owned by middle and low rank
illithids? Although she acts like trash, selling her to Erux would needlessly inflate his ego.”
Whim comments. Vebeva laughs at Whim’s wit and humor.

“Natiri, you have no idea how good you have it here. If you want to stay in my home and
earn my generosity, we’re going to have to work on that attitude. I want you to earn my
forgiveness. Now then… Bow before me and kiss my tentacle.” Vebeva commands, extending
a tendril out.

Natiri blushes as she crawls on all fours to the ulithard. She takes the tentacle into her hand
gently and begins to plant soft kisses upon it. “That’s it… Now lick it.” at her command, the
tiefling licks at her slimy tentacle. The taste was strange and off-putting to her tiefling palette.
She started to gag. “What a baby! How pathetic. You follow directions so poorly.” Vebeva
lamented, glaring down at her. “Perhaps you prefer the taste of Whim’s cock. You do owe him
an apology.”
Her tentacles reach under the table to lift Whim’s chemise up, exposing his semi-hard penis
to Natiri. Whim grew aroused watching the power Vebeva held over Natiri. “ Someone’s
getting excited… Go on, Natiri. Show him how sorry you are. I’m not going to hold your
hand this time, so you better do a good job.” The ulitharid commanded.

Natiri nods and crawls over to Whim. Anything to get the taste out of her mouth. She’d
sooner swallow the human’s cum than taste that again. She brings herself between his legs
and takes his shaft into her mouth. She lets out a muffled groan at her predicament. Whim,
being the perfect butler that he was, gently pulls Natiri’s hair away from her face. He wanted
to see her please him. He sighs pleasurably as the tiefling bobs her head on his cock.

“Much better. You already know what’s expected of you with this task!” Vebeva praised. She
then begins to read into Whim’s senses to feel her dominion over Natiri in all it’s glory.
“That’s right… You’re such a good thrall, Whim… You deserve this for being so brave and
obedient for me.”

His mistress’ praise made his heart flutter. He loved every compliment he got for her. His
dreams of pleasing Vebeva in every way imaginable were coming true, and it was all thanks
to Natiri. In his mind, he was beginning to forgive her for attacking him. He loved being a
tool of discipline. It felt so good to hear compliments from her for a job well done. “I would
like to give you an even better reward, Whim.” Vebeva’s voice has taken on a sultry tone as
she pulls Natiri’s head off his cock. She rises from her chair and pulls Natiri up to her feet by
the horns once again.

The ulitharid bends her tiefling thrall over the table, pressing Natiri’s chest against the flat
and polished wooden surface. Vebeva’s hand firmly pressed on her thrall’s back. She used
four of her tentacles to spread Natiri’s arms over the edges of the table. Her wrists were
pressed to the carved tentacle shaped legs of the table.

“Whim! Please get the rope out of storage and tie her to the table. Get the spreader bar and
my new training flogger as well.” Vebeva commands.

“Yes, mistress!” Whim follows her command to the letter. The rope was of drow
craftsmanship made of spider silk. The spreader bar was a simple wood rod with shackles she
purchased from Dallimeze as a “feeding-stock aid” designed for particularly squirmy meals.
Little did she know that the invention came from Caramyn’s mind. The creative ulitharid had
a new purpose for it in mind.
Whim sets to work tying Natiri’s wrists to the table legs. He hums with satisfaction as he
works, making sure they are secure. He tied her legs to the table's other legs, just above the
knees. Vebeva held her tail firmly in place to stop its movements from smacking her favorite
thrall. Whim had much experience tying knots and ropes. He was once a mere swashbuckler
in Baldur’s Gate who had used his roguish charm to work his way into the service of the
Irlentree family. The servant was captured by illithids when accompanying one of the
family’s adventurous members on an adventure in Southwest Faerun. Now, Whim did not
desire to serve any but his mistress. His gilded cage was the most comfortable place in all of
Toril.

Whim then places the spreader bar on Natiri’s ankles. Vebeva inspects Whim’s handiwork.
“Very good, Whim. However, I can’t help but feel like it needs one little finishing touch… Can
you do something with that tail?” Vebeva gives her feedback to him.

“Ah, how brilliant! Of course I can.” Whim comments. He sets to work tying her tail in a
way that keeps it propped up. He ties strips of rope around her body and tail to hold it in
place. The tip of her tail was over her shoulder and by her face, wiggling pathetically in its
bindings.

“Perfection. I think I’m going to enjoy this.” Vebeva commented. Whim then picks up the
flogger made of deep rothe hide and holds it out for Vebeva to take. “Oh no, my dear thrall.
This is your reward.” Vebeva comments. Whim seemed surprised, his jaw practically
dropped before his lips curled into a sneer. He was like a spoiled noble kid getting the very
present he wanted from mommy and daddy. Natiri squirmed against her bindings. She was
so secured, she achieved nothing with her movements.

“Thank you, Mistress. This is a generous gift! You are most gracious.” He expresses his
gratitude. Whim gently slides the tresses of the leather flogger across her back before
skillfully flicking them to slap at her buttocks. Natiri yelps at the sensation, squirming to no
avail. Vebeva stops Whim for a moment.

“It’s a bit late for so much noise, don’t you think? Shhh…” Vebeva takes the sash of her silk
sleeping robe and turns it into a makeshift gag for Natiri. She then floats behind Whim and
gently pulls his chemise off, leaving him nude. Her robe hangs open as she presses her warm
body against Whim for a moment in a hug from behind. Whim smiles at her affection,
drinking it in before she sits back down, crossing her legs. “You may continue, Whim.” She
gives her favorite thrall permission to resume.
“You’re so lucky you even get to touch such fine things.” Whim says to Natiri, his sneer
never leaving his face. He once again resumes flogging her, teasing her between strikes. He
would occasionally leave her wondering when the next hit was coming. Vebeva found herself
delighted as she watched the display from her seat. It was like a private show as she keyed in
to Whim’s arousal. Mistress and thrall’s desires were feeding into each other as they worked
to make Natiri’s mind a mess.

Natiri found herself moaning, panting and mentally giving in to the stinging sensation. She
tried to speak through the gag, but Vebeva was not bothering to read her mind to figure out
what she meant. “Can you understand what she’s saying, Whim?”

“Not a word, Mistress.” Whim replies. Natiri tries again to make herself heard.

“Mmnph… Mnnn mmmph!” Natiri mumbles, attempting to be understood.

Vebeva and Whim laugh at her together.

“Just some incomprehensible gibberish…” Vebeva mockingly dismisses the tiefling’s

attempts to speak. She rises from her seat, deciding she wanted a piece of the action herself.
“Go around to the front. I’d like to have a hand in her punishment too.” The ulitharid tells
Whim. She rubs a tentacle against Natiri’s moist folds. The tip of it flicks against her clit
teasingly as her mistress delivers the occasional smack to her bottom. Whim holds the
tiefling’s head still as he slaps his cock against her cheek.

“Mm… Aren’t you creative?” Vebeva compliments as she watches him pull the gag out of her
mouth. Natiri eagerly opens her mouth for Whim and he starts to thrust himself balls deep
inside. “That’s right, Natiri. Take it! This is what happens when you mess with my favorite
thrall.” Vebeva gets more and more aroused, finding herself starting to moan softly as Whim
fucked her mouth. She looks down at Natiri’s exposed pussy, noting that the combination of
her slime and Natiri’s nectar was making it drip.

Vebeva pulls away and comes around to Natiri’s field of view with Whim. “I think she’s
ready to be used for breeding purposes, but first… Why don’t you show her how a good thrall
behaves?” She gently caresses his neck and cheeks with her finger tips. The sensation left
him with a blissful smile. He pulls out of Natiri’s mouth and puts the gag back in before
giving their mistress his full attention.

She brings her face close to Whim’s and slides a tentacle across his lips. His facial hair
tickled a little but the way he eagerly kissed and licked her in a sensual manner left Veveba
feeling hot. She could tell how much he adored and craved her. She definitely wanted to get
some private time with him soon. “You taste so good…” Whim groaned. “A shame Natiri has
such commoner tastes. Oh well, It’s not her fault she can’t appreciate it. Tieflings don’t
typically experience the finer things in life.”

“Well I’m glad you have such fine tastes.” Vebeva gives his cheek a gentle pat. “Go ahead,
Whim. Enjoy your reward.” She gently urges him, and she sits down in front of Natiri in her
chair. Whim gets behind Natiri. He grabs her hips firmly and pushes into her, pounding into
her wet cunt mercilessly. Natiri moans into her gag, and the table starts to shake from
Whim’s thrusts. One of Vebeva’s tentacles wraps around Natiri’s horn. Another one snakes
back across the shaking table to fondle Whim’s testicles. She gathers the tiefling’s long hair
into her hands, and wraps it up into a ponytail with a third tentacle. She wanted to see the
look on Natiri’s face as Whim fucked her silly.

“Oh, yes! Just like that… That’s my good thrall!” Vebeva groaned out loud. She slowly
started to lose control with Whim as she shared his pleasure. Vebeva’s praise only drives
Whim further into ecstasy. He wanted her to feel good. He would give her all he had. Natiri,
who had become a drooling and moaning mess at this point, felt heavenly to Whim when
combined with his mistress’ attention.

“Oh, Mistress! Thank you… Thank you so much for this…!” He whimpered. Natiri finally
felt herself edging close to relief once more. She mentally begged them not to stop. Her eyes
rolled back as Whim fucked her senseless. She drools onto the table as she gives in
completely. A loud muffled grunt comes from her as she finally cums. Whim doesn’t stop
pounding her spasming pussy. Natiri starts to squeal, overwhelmed by Whim and Vebeva
using her.

“P-Permission to cum, Mistress? May I?” Whim shakily begs.

“Yes! Yes! Do it!” She eagerly gives him permission in a gooey voice. She fervently wraps
her tentacle around his cock, jerking him off. She starts panting, getting more and more
worked up with Whim. The favorite thrall lets out a long whiny moan as he cums, pushing
the tip inside Natiri.

“Whew…. Whim… Good job… ” Vebeva praises him as she catches her breath, patting his
head with a tentacle. Whim pulls out, leaving Natiri a dripping mess. When Whim gets his
bearings he comes around front and pulls off Natiri’s gag. He leans over, cupping her chin
and licks the taste of his mistress’ slime off the tiefling’s lips. Natiri rolls her eyes. She has
never met a thrall with their head so far up their owner’s ass.

“Now we’re even.” Whim smirks. Vebeva sighed, satisfied that Whim was feeling good now.
“I’m going back to bed. Go ahead and untie her, and please clean up your mess. Natiri, be
nice with Whim. I don’t want any more trouble from you.” Vebeva tells him tiredly, holding
her robe together.

“Of course, Mistress. Have a pleasant rest.” Whim bids her goodnight as he releases Natiri
from her bonds. Whim provides a rare bit of care to Natiri, wiping her clean, and allowing
her to return to bed as he finishes cleaning up. Natiri flops into her bed, closing her eyes. She
feels something soft drape over her several minutes later. She opens her eyes to Whim
sharing one of his soft blankets. “This wasn’t possible without you, so you may borrow
this… For now.” Whim returns to his own bed, falling asleep with a content smile on his
face.

“Smug bastard…” Natiri mumbled, pulling the blanket over herself and finally falling asleep,
relieved.
 And Then They Died
Chapter Summary

What it says on the tin.

I used Geddask as an encounter for my players. This is more or less verbatim what
happened.

Chapter Notes

Author's note: I know they have planeshift on their 5e statblock, I went with their
psionics presented in The Illithiad instead because I thought it was more interesting to
the narrative. They had two different modes of Astral traveling. Source: pg25, 28 The
Illithiad.

Things had gone downhill. Geddask finally ate one too many brains they shouldn’t have, and
adventurers were on their trail. No one should care about a smarter than average rat, right? A
goblin buffet from the Xanathar guild never raised any brows. Even a dung sweeper or two
never aroused suspicion, but no. It was the rats that ratted them out.

She told them many times “If you’re not back in two hours, I’ll assume you died and you’re
on your own.” She began to regret those words as she stared at the pocket watch Geddask
made for her timekeeping needs. The fist sized watch had a raven painted upon it’s face. 1
hour and 45 minutes. Where were they? The wizard’s stomach began to twist itself in knots
as an anxious frown formed on her face. Reluctantly Madalyn reached for her sending stone.
“Where are you?”

“Under Horn Street. Don’t-”

Madalyn’s face scrunched into a panicked expression. She’d told them many times they were
on their own. She would be calling herself a liar today. She didn’t even bother to put on her
“sewer delving suit” as she cast Passwall and burst into a sprint through the sewage tunnels.
She used her staff to vault herself over a flowing of sewage. She barely stuck the landing.
The wizard ran faster than she had in years. She ignores the burning in her lungs, and the
stink of the sewers burning in her nostrils. The sound of her boots echo through the
cavernous tunnels like a desperate drum. She found them.

Three figures stood over a familiar plague-doctor-like figure on the floor. A male gold
dragonborn paladin, A human rogue wearing a cloth mask over her face, and a male sun elf
cleric wearing the holy symbol of Hanali Celanil, a golden heart. The trio was illuminated by
a driftglobe kept by the rogue. They stare at the mage who was darting towards them,
thinking she was being chased by something at first.

“No…” Madalyn gasps. “NO! GET AWAY FROM THEM!” She screams.

“What?” The rogue was so shocked by this lady’s behavior, she jumps back as Madalyn falls
to her knees before them, grasping Geddask’s lifeless body. She cradles them like a martyr.
The dragonborn lets out an awkward “Uhm…”

She chokes and coughs, trying to catch her breath. “No… Come on. Get up. I know you’re
just playing dead…” Madalyn desperately yanks off their mask and uncorks a potion of
health, attempting to pour it into the mouth of her aberrant lover. It was for naught. The fluid
spills down their chest. Geddask drew no breath. “No. No no no… Geddask…” She began to
sob, kissing their forehead in a mad attempt to get them to stir and say anything. Her robes
and hands became smeared in silvery-white blood. She glared at the three adventurers as she
tried to think of a harmful spell that would take them all out. Her strongest fireball in these
tunnels would surely ignite the methane, and kill her too. Her mind was mad with grief.
“You… You stole my laughter!!” She screamed, tears freely falling. “You stole my inventor.
My joy! My partner!” She clutched her dead lover. Her mind flickered between deepest
despair and rage. The desire to see them all in The Nine Hells was conflicted by her desire
not to let Geddask go. She was paralyzed.

“Well now I just feel bad…” The elf, Arendil, spoke up.

“You should feel bad!” Madalyn sobbed loudly.

“Are you serious?? That’s a brain eating monster!!” Jash, the dragonborn paladin, pointed
out. Madalyn was about to scream at Jash before Arendil interjects.

“They’re in love!” Arendil gestures broadly at the scene before them. His goddess was one of
romantic love. The revelation that they just destroyed a couple horrified him! “Hanali forgive
me…”
The rogue, Zinnia, moved her driftglobe closer, illuminating the distraught wizard. “Heeey! I
know you! You’re that weird lady that sold us the driftglobe and- wait that mindflayer is your
business partner!?” She slaps the dragonborn on the back of the head. “Nice going, Jash the
Holy Jackass, you and Arendil killed our magic item vendor! Arendil, fix this mess!” Zinnia
glared at Jash, scolding the two of them. “And worst of all, I have to give back the loot!” She
starts emptying her pockets of Geddask’s belongings.

“Hold up! That’s our only diamond, Arendil!” Jash protested. Zinnia grabbed Jash, making
him look at her while Arendil did his thing. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about Jeryth’s awakened
rats! I want my combusting caltrops, Jash! I’m not trusting another fucking Gondian gnome
after the last time!” Zinnia reveals the reason they were questing in this dismal place.

“D-don’t cry! I can revive them! I have to atone for what I’ve done.” Arendil tells the
sobbing mage. “If their soul is willing, that is…” The sun elf makes a face. He was so heavily
perfumed that Madalyn could smell an amber musk from here. Madalyn’s lip quivers as she
holds Geddask’s corpse close to her, the warmth has faded from them.

“We don’t even know if they have a soul!” The paladin sounds exasperated. If a look could
kill, Madalyn would have struck Jash dead. Geddask had taken to venerating Gond during
their stay in Waterdeep. Since they had no colony, they could not join an elder brain in death.
To comfort them, Madalyn had explained that worshiping a deity was a bit of a great
collective of its own. Gond could claim them within his domain and they would be spared
from the Wall of the Faithless. She had no fear of Geddask being lost for good.

“Well, we’re about to find out.” Arendil says. He approaches Geddask, clutched in their
lover’s arms. They speak a prayer in Elven of true love never dying. If their love is true, they
will return. “Come back, Geddask… Come back…” Madalyn cried, whispering softly. The
cleric touches the diamond to Geddask’s forehead. Their mortal wounds close, they gasp
sharply as the stale air fills their lungs.

“Geddask!” Madalyn gasps. She plants several kisses on their face and tentacles.

“I hate adventurers…” Geddask gurgled weakly.

“Oh Geddask, I hate them too…” She laughed softly through her tears, holding them closely.
Zinnia returned Geddask’s belongings.

“I am so fucking sorry about my companions. For the record, I didn’t do shit to them. I did
not hit them.” Zinnia apologized while throwing her party members under the wagon wheel.
“Sooooo… Can I still get those combusting caltrops?” The rogue concealed an awkward
smile with her cloth facial mask.

“Yes. Yes, Whatever you want. Just keep your feral dragonborn away from me!” Geddask
cowered, holding onto Madalyn. Both Madalyn and the Zinnia glared at Jash, who slinks a bit
at their stares.

“Great! Swell! My companions and I won’t speak a word of this and I’ll tell Jeryth her little
rat problem is dealt with!” Zinnia says enthusiastically. “Shall we meet at the Yawning Portal
within a tenday to finish our business exchange?” She spoke in an awkwardly cheerful
manner. The rogue seemed unphased by the inventor of her gear being a mindflayer. If it
worked, it worked.

Madalyn looked to Geddask, who merely made an uneasy feeling known to the group. “I’ll
appear in their stead.” Madalyn sighed with a shaky breath, finally coming down from her
panic.

“Completely understandable! What, with the whole murdering you thing. Sorry…” Zinnia
once again apologized. “Alright! Goodbye! It’s time to go! We’ve seen enough and the smell
is bothering me! Let’s not stick around to catch Filth Fever!” The rogue grabs Jash by his
arm, pulling the flabbergasted paladin away. Arendil takes one last look at the couple as
Madalyn helps Geddask to their feet.

“I’ll pray to Hanali for you.” Arendil tells them.

Madalyn sighs as the adventurers depart. She holds onto Geddask's arm as she guides them
home. Reaching the point where they had to cross the sewage once more, she wondered if
Geddask could make it in their weakened state.

"Hang onto me." Geddask offered.

"Don't try to impress me with chivalry. " She pouted, poking their tentacle. Geddask rolled
their eyes. They use their levitation on Madalyne, causing her to weightlessly float a few
inches off the ground.

"Fine. Propel yourself across." Geddask knew she could do it. She uses her staff to push
against the floor, shoving herself across. Geddask follows behind, letting her down gently
once they were on the other side together.
"You donkey ! Why didn't you escape into the Astral plane!?" The wizard scolded the
artificer.

“It’s simple. There’s no guarantee that once I find a color pool back to the Prime Material
that it would lead me back here. That is assuming that the warrior frogs did not find me first.
The slimmest possibility that I could die far from you was too much to bear…” Geddask
blushes a bit at their own sentimental thinking.

“I would rather you be lost than dead!” Madalyn shakes her head in disbelief.

“ It would have been far easier for you to recover my body. I know you would have thought of
something. I was correct.” Geddask comments.

“All I did was wail like a child over you…” She looks at them, holding back further tears.
The illithid moves closer, wrapping an arm around her waist in an attempt to comfort her.
Madalyn coughs softly.

“You smell terrible…” She comments. The stink of sewage clung to them, mixing with their
pungently sweet aroma.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Geddask joked in a deadpan manner. They couldn’t have noticed.
Illithids have no olfactory senses of their own. Madalyn smiled softly as she approached their
basement. She had left the passwall open. She didn't care in the moment if a wandering
creature or thief had gotten in. The loss of property was nothing compared to nearly losing
Geddask. After a cursory inspection, they determined that nothing and no one had gotten in
and she dismissed the passage.

“Alright. You know the rules after sewer forays. I’ll set up a bath for you.” She reminded
them. Normally she made Geddask carry their own water, but seeing as they were in no shape
to do so, she panted as she pushed and lugged a 10 gallon bucket to the washroom until she
dumped 50 gallons into a large wooden tub. “Never… Say… I don’t do anything for you…”
She huffed and puffed.

She dropped a strange metallic spherical device into the water, another invention of
Geddask’s. It was a flameless water boiler. It most often used it to warm their bath water. Its
command word was “coquo”. She drops in some scented oil made from jasmine flowers. It
complimented the notes of vanilla in Geddask’s natural scent. She removed the water boiler
once she began to see steam and deactivated it. “It’s ready, Geddask!” She called them from
the washroom. She begins slipping out of her robes, letting them fall from her soft skin and
onto the floor. “Do you mind if I join you? I need to cleanse myself too.” She asks. Her pale
cheeks turned pink.
Geddask could see she was already inviting herself. They wouldn’t complain. The illithid was
sore, weak and tired. They needed Madalyn. “Your presence would be of comfort to me.
Please, by all means.” They agree. Madalyn climbs into the tub, sitting down. Geddask gets
in after her, sitting in front of Madalyn with their back to her. She dunks a clean tankard they
“borrowed” from a local tavern into the warm water, drenching her long raven hair as well as
getting Geddask wet enough to wash them off. She wraps her arms around them, pressing her
chest to their back as she embraces them.

Geddask makes a contented sound as her lips kiss the back of their neck, trailing along their
back and shoulder. The illithid lovingly wraps their tentacles around her arms, relaxing
against her for several moments before allowing her to grab the soap. With no idea how soap
would affect an illithid’s skin, Madalyn had made sure to only order mild soap from the
Aurora’s Whole Realms Catalogue counter. She washes their back for them, cleaning away
the smell of Waterdeep’s sewers. “Geddask… I had a crazy idea. What if we left this city?
What if we went somewhere far away from here? What if we went on an adventure?”
Madalyn pondered.

“You are correct. That is insane. We agreed that we hate adventurers.” Geddask responds.
“Please elaborate.” They at least wanted to know her reasoning. Madalyn presses her breasts
against their soapy back, pouting softly as they organize their thoughts.

“I know that you enjoy this city. I know it’s different from what you knew… I can’t help but
feel like there’s something more out there. Somewhere… I want to give you the world,
Geddask. I want to become stronger so I can build for you a place where we can be together
without living in the shadows. If we fail, I want us to die in a far more scenic location. You
deserve better than to rot in some dismal gutter to be gnawed on by the rats…” Madalyn
bears to them her wishes and hopes for them.

Geddask tries to comprehend why their own death had affected Madalyn so profoundly.
They’ve seen illithids in their old colony become mad with grief at the loss of a personal
thrall. Did thralls feel the same way when they lost a master? Geddask and Madalyn did not
share such a dynamic, so why did she grieve? Why was she in pain?

“You’re saying such beautiful and horrifying things to me. Madalyn… Leaving my colony
was the hardest thing I've ever done. I don't know if I can call anywhere home. Going from
place to place, meeting people and creatures that may or may not wish me harm. It's a
terrifying prospect." They said.
"I know. I've done it before. I hated it." She laughed. "But I wouldn't have met you if I didn't.
It was worth the risk." Madalyn explains as she washes her hair. Geddask turns around to face
her. Their tentacle caresses her cheek and thoughtfully traces the inky tendrils of her coiling
grasp tattoo.

"I did say I wanted to have new experiences with you. We'll start preparing to chart our
journey. I still have an obligation to that rogue to fulfill, so we can't leave until it's complete."
Geddask says. Madalyn rinses off her hair.

“I understand. It was nice of them to offer their silence on what you really are, even if it was
to fulfill their own goals. I suppose we should be grateful…” Madalyn ponders. “I’ll start
seeking out information at The Font of Knowledge. I take it, you’ll be working on procuring
supplies and resources?”

“Yes. You’re quite keen… I can hardly believe I’m pursuing this course of action with you…”
Geddask leaned in, pressing their forehead against hers. Their tentacles wrap around her nude
body as they embrace in the warm water of the tub. The smell of vanilla and jasmine
harmonize as she kisses them. “I already died once. What’s once more with you?”

Madalyn chuckled softly. “Obviously, we’re going to do our best to avoid that fate…” She
helps Geddask rinse the soap from their body completely.

“Should it be,

That we be free,

One-on-One,

Our will be done.”

Madalyne recites the short poem. “You were an aspiring poet?” Geddask asked.

“Once. It didn’t work out.” She bluntly said. Geddask looked at her, blinking slowly. That
seemed to be a common theme in Madalyn’s life. It wasn’t going to continue any longer.
Geddask resolved to make it so.

“We’ll make this work. We’ll show the world how wonderful we are some day.” Geddask
promised. There would be no more loneliness. No more tears today.. They exit the tub, drying
themselves off and they resolved to become adventurers.
 There's Something Strange About That Thrall
Chapter Summary

A succubus tries and fails very badly to get tentacle sex. She instead starts a domino
effect of an illithid merchant embracing magic.

Thanks to That One Gremlin on the Internet, I could not at all take this fiend seriously.

Chapter Notes

This is another no porn chapter. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled smut next
chapter.

Pentarish was a daring succubus. In her home plane within the 570th layer of the Abyss,
Shendilavri, she was a somewhat famous erotica writer. She made dangerous journeys to the
Prime Material for her stories. Her muses became the subjects of extremely scandalous tales.
Over the past 200 years she’s weaved tragedies and degenerate debauchery. Her most famous
work was “Temperance ''. It was about a paladin who took the Oath of Conquest and falls
from grace, becoming a dominant lover, only to lose everything in the very end. The book
had ended up in the library of Candlekeep, making it her proudest achievement.

For her latest project, Pentarish has gone undercover in Oryndoll as a thrall. It would be her
most scandalous work of all. Illithids were famously difficult to seduce. They were powerful,
horrifying, and mysterious. The thought of sexual relations with them would leave a gith
fuming and turn the stomachs of most mortals. The challenge excited her more than anything.
Stories of monsters were her favorite to write, but her anthology about lycanthropes, which
she worked on for half a decade, had begun to become rather stale. It was now time for her to
turn to tentacles.

Her role in this story was a poor innocent woman named Josephine. This persona she’d built
for herself had wide green innocent eyes and fiery warm red hair kept in a bountiful braid.
Pentarish presented her Josephine character as someone demure, naive and vulnerable.
Pentarish’s alias was literally the red-headed stepchild of a noblewoman. A real princess type,
escaping her step mother’s abuse. She had convinced a half-orc bodyguard named Kalamash
to take her to a place where illithids conducted surface raids. She’d tried to have her fun with
him, but he was too sweet and kind for her. He truly had nothing to corrupt. She hadn’t seen
him since they were at the slave suk. That big dumb lug was probably being put to work until
he breaks, so she thought.

With a ring of mind shielding, which she kept invisible on her finger at all times, she hid her
true nature from them. She had the permission for telepathic communication open at all
times. She had a second ring. One of false thoughts that presented whatever lies she wanted
to tell them. They would surely catch on to being unable to read her thoughts without that
second ring. These squid faced beings weren’t stupid, after all. Pentarish knew it would not
be easy to seduce an illithid. Their minds were far more resilient than most mortals. She
never understood why that was. Was the faith in their Elder Brain’s Great Convergence or
whatever they called it that strong? It seemed to her like that big lump of thinking flesh was
merely eating them.

Every thrall had a three tenday guarantee. If a thrall didn’t mesh with an illithid, they had 30
days to return them for a full refund or exchange for a similarly valued thrall, provided the
thrall hadn’t been consumed. She’d tried this stunt 20 years ago and ended up in a feeding
stock. Her soul’s trip to The Abyss was not a fun one, and the illithids at the performance
eatery were likely just as perturbed as her. This time, however, would be different! She did
her due diligence to sneak herself into the Personal Thrall Stall. An advertisement in
Undercommon read “Now Selling Emotional Support Thralls.” Such thralls wore a silver tag
upon their ear, embedded with a resonance stone of whatever feeling the owning illithid
wanted to customize it with.

She had almost been purchased by an ulitharid! That would have been fun to write about, but
it was not meant to be as Vebeva had instead been drawn to an adventuring tiefling with a
resting bitch face. Eventually she ended up with Trezzir, whom she managed to impress by
channeling a frightened and servile demeanor. Then the hard part began. She was in the home
stretch. Trezzir already had another thrall. A male drow named Welvyr who once had
ambitions of being a necromancer. Since illithids abhorred the undead, this was naturally
corrected.

Trezzir’s moral codes were strange as a Possesser Creed illithid. He was someone who
enjoyed putting everything in its proper place. “Josephine’s” attention to detail was attractive
to him. Social deviations were not allowed. However, the illithid also contradicted himself.
They were hypocritical in some respects. Touching the thralls at The Breeding Pen was
against the rules, even if such activities regularly occurred in the private rooms. They never
touched a thrall that hadn’t been touched by somebody else. If they were already “defiled”,
he couldn’t make it any worse. Magic was an abomination, except when that scroll came in
handy one time. He always had a convenient excuse for their perversions to convince himself
he was a model citizen.
Pentarish’s insightful mind had picked up on this flaw quite quickly, but it remained far from
easy to tempt him. She had gotten herself all worked up, fantasizing about those tentacles on
her body. It was torture! She couldn’t even seduce the drow because he was gay! It was the
worst tenday of her life. To be so close to her scandalous goals and have to work so hard for
them! She didn’t even get to go to The Breeding Pen because she “wasn’t a breeding thrall”.
She was instead forced to stay home with Welvyr and organize Trezzir’s storage. She would
certainly be writing a chapter about Josephine being unable to go to a ball because her evil
bitch of a step mother wouldn’t let her.

On the third day, she tried to tempt Trezzir by bending over on all fours to clean the floor.
She made sure to have a “wardrobe malfunction” and show her underwear. She had felt a
tentacle grab at her dress and she was barely containing a grin when Trezzir had merely fixed
it for her, pulling it down to cover her. “I’ll have to buy you pants to work in…” He had
commented, before going about his business. She hid a scowl before forcing herself to smile
at her “Master”. “Oh! How embarrassing, Master! Thank you for being so diligent and
defending my dignity…” She replied. Her ring of false thoughts hid her internal screaming.

On the fifth day she recited a poem she wrote about him. She was successfully stroking his
ego. When the comments she made on his big strong tentacles apparently made him
uncomfortable. He had nearly returned her to the slave suk, but her puppy dog eyes made him
reconsider. Something was off about this slave and he couldn’t place a tentacle on what.

On the seventh day she decided to see if she could get him to catch her masturbating, but
Trezzir instead went to bed, walking right by her room without even so much as looking at
her! What could she possibly do to get him in her pants?! When Pentarish had to really work
to get laid, it made her unbelievably aroused. She couldn’t stop thinking about ideas for her
books, and her facade with her rings was beginning to slip. Even her lies were tinged with the
truth that she wanted those tentacles.

On the ninth day, things were starting to get stranger. She had an idea to tempt him with
power. She liked to use her etherealness to travel freely about the colony. She stole a pair of
spellbooks from newly captured adventurers and hid them in Welvyr’s room where he would
find them. It all came back to Welvyr. Spells he knew how to cast. He could be useful in
defending his master on their trips if he’d let him. If Pentarish couldn’t have her fun, she’d at
least cause a little drama.
“Master, I found weird books in Welvyr’s dresser!” She tattled on the other thrall. Then all
she did was sit back and watch from the doorway. Unfortunately, she would not get the
dramatic scene that wanted. Nobody was any fun around here!

“Where did you get these arcane books??” Trezzir demanded to know. Welvyr cowered
before his master.

“I-I truly don’t know, Master! I really don’t! They just showed up as if out of thin air! It’s the
truth!” He stared at Welvyrn intently. Trezzir sensed no deception from his thrall but if the
spellbooks were not smuggled in by him, how did they get there?

He tucked them away. He was leaving tomorrow for a merchant’s journey. He could simply
throw the books away in the Troglodyte Warrens instead of having to explain this. He knew
the excuse of “I don’t know how they got there!” would not be believable, even if it were
true. On second thought… They were going to Sshamath. He could simply sell the books to
some insufferable wizard. The only good thing about that place was the Dark Weavings
Bazaar. It was a wealth of lore and just about anything one could get their hands on, and if it
wasn’t there, one could hire someone to get it. There was even a portal that they could
conveniently use to return to Oryndoll.

On the start of the tenth day, she attempted one last charm on Trezzir. If this didn’t work, she
was giving up and going home. “Alright, fine! You’ll get some tentacle sex!” Trezzir tells her.
The demure looking woman actually looked shocked! “You’ve been jumping my tentacles
ever since I bought you. You’re not as sneaky as you think you’re being.” They tell her,
sounding annoyed. She was indeed as sneaky as she thought. They had no idea. “We’re going
on a long journey so I’m willing to help you indulge in your fetishes if it will get you to shut
up. I don’t want to hear any begging for tentacles on the road.”

Sticking his tentacles in someone else’s thrall was more than fine, but doing it with his own
thralls seemed like it was more trouble than it was worth. He heard rumors how Zusrall’s
thrall got so addicted to them. He couldn’t stand the idea of any creature clinging to them like
that. Such interactions with thralls often lead to deeper commitments to them. His trips to the
private room were always with someone else’s thrall. It was a mess he could leave for
someone else to clean up when he was done. He wasn’t going to be the one to defile this
thrall either. “We’re going to The Breeding Pen.”

Pentarish smiled brightly. She would finally get to see that famed good and cheap festhall
she’d read about. Trezzir returned to Welvyr who was packing things for their trip to the City
of Dark Weavings.
“Did you hide those spellbooks?” Trezzir asked.

“Y-yes, Master.” He felt ashamed that he had gotten excited to see a spellbook after so long.

“Let him keep one. He looked so happy when he saw it… He could be useful to you.”
Pentarish stirs the metaphorical pot. Trezzir removes one of the books. It was black and
embossed with silver filligree and red gemstones that looked like spiders.

“You wanted to be useful, yes?”

Welvyr looked at his master with wide eyes. “Yes… More than anything.”

“If you can practice your cantrips quietly while I’m gone, you may keep it for this trip ONLY.
Do not tell anyone I let you have this. And NO necromancy.” Trezzir tells him. Welvyr’s eyes
widened. Trezzir had tried to crush his love of magic and nearly succeeded, but this gift was
all he’d ever wanted. He holds back tears and nods enthusiastically, silently agreeing to his
terms. Pentarish has secretly removed and hidden her rings during their exchange.

It was a feeling that Trezzir had never sensed in another creature before. Gratitude… It made
his chest feel strange and heavy. Trezzir pushed the strange emotion away when the meek
drow had gone to his room to quietly practice Prestidigitation. “Come along, Josephine.”

Upon leading her to the festhall, he had to find someone degenerate enough to come to the
backrooms. Dallimeze was there with Caramyn, but he had informed her that they were
looking for a male thrall after a very subtle glare from the gnome.

Zusrall was only interested in sharing their thrall with other illithids and their thralls at this
time. Trezzir was not in the mood for all that. Vizaness wasn’t there today. “Oh for
Malcanthet’s sake. Never mind!” The succubus throws her hands up, revealing her true form.
“You’re all impossible! I’m going home.” She winks into the Ethereal Plane and doesn’t
return.

“What… Am I eligible for a refund for that?? Are we supposed to tell a priest of Ilsensine
about this?” Trezzir blinks in a “did that just happen?” sort of way. “Well that just
happened.”

As the flustered succubus escaped the city, She decided that illithids were a waste of time to
write about. Perhaps her next book would be about weresharks to follow her lycanthropic
book series.

Trezzir returned home after the initial shock wore off. He had Welvyr hide the spellbook
away and conducted a thorough search of “Josephine’s” room. He discovered the two rings
under her pillow. They tucked them away in a pocket. That certainly explained how she got
in and evaded detection. He knew she wasn’t coming back. It was inevitable that two illithids
who were Vigileaters from the intelligence branch had questions for him about the incident.

He was truthfully just as confused as they were. They were careful not to mention the
spellbooks or the rings. He didn’t know the false thralls motives or anything. He managed to
convince them that he didn’t know anything else and they went on their way. The incident
would lead to a city-wide PSA to thoroughly search all new and potential thralls before
taking them into the city.

After demanding a refund be deposited into his Possessor Creed vault, Trezzir finally left the
city far later than he had wanted to. It would be the beginning of a long 24 day journey to
Sshamath. The instant the illithid had returned the spellbook to Welvyr when they were 5
days out, far away from the city limits, Welvyr carried it close to his chest or in a bag at his
side at all times when he wasn’t studying it. The thrall was even sleeping with the book in his
arms. Trezzir couldn’t understand why it was such a precious thing to him.

When they rested on the 6th day of their journey, Welvyr was memorizing the spell for
Lightning Bolt. “Why do you cling to that abominable thing?” He asked. He places a hand
on his shoulder as he glances at the arcane sigils.

Welvyr involuntarily flinches at his master’s touch. He had a long history of being abused at
the hands of female drow. Trezzir quickly removes his hand as a silent apology for scaring
him. “Simple… It’s like your psionics… I-it comes naturally to me. It’s the only thing I can
do right. When I can fry my foes with a lightning bolt, I feel like I’m good enough.” Welvyr
tries to explain.

“Good enough for whom?” Trezzir asked.

“Myself.” He blurted out. “And you of course, master!” He quickly added. Trezzir found
such sentiments odd.

“The spellbook makes you feel… Adequate?” Trezzir pondered his thrall’s response.
“Yes…” Welvyr nervously muttered. “I feel like I can do anything for you with this. Can I
show you something? I need you to do that taste link thing with me.” He looked at his master
expectantly.

“Very well…” Trezzir agreed, linking with his open mind.

“You see, these rations are pretty bland by themselves, right?” The drow takes a bite of some
dried ripplebark. Trezzir’s tentacles scrunch up ever so slightly. Thrall food was so awful!

“I can’t believe you eat this on a daily basis…”

“I-it’s not so bad! Really! B-but I digress. When I do this…” He casts prestidigitation upon
the same piece of ripplebark. It now tasted like a fine black truffle rothe cheese.

“What is that? It’s… Quite delightful.” Trezzir perked up.

“Black Truffle Rothe Cheese. It was my favorite back in Menzoberranzan, back when I
attended Sorcere.”

“I see… Thank you for sharing that with me.” Trezzir sounded reserved as he sat with his
thrall, resting and allowing his thrall time to eat. He drank from his waterskin, thinking about
what he just experienced. A spark of curiosity was lit within his mind. Magic was still an
abomination, except when it made his thrall’s food taste better. He was determined not to run
out of excuses anytime soon. Not until he could figure out these strange emotions he’d been
experiencing.
 Tamed
Chapter Summary

Shout out to Asmodeus Audios for showing up in my Youtube Algorithm and

recommending his videos to me.

https://youtu.be/dmGD9bQib5s
https://youtu.be/sMkOxWhoiNo

“Did you sleep well? You look so adorable.” A deep sultry voice pulsed inside Syllan’s tired
mind.The handsome blond half elf stirs from his sleep. He was inside a cage which was also
his bed. It was padded with soft blankets and pillows. He looks up at Raphraxus, a towering
muscular ulitharid. He was a body tamer. Syllan was no mere thrall. He was a draconic
sorcerer. He was also his guinea pig. His prize and toy.

They were each other’s dirty little secrets. No one else even knew he was there. Syllan could
come and go as he pleased via teleporting. He’d escaped from Oryndoll once before, yet his
first experience with Raphraxus kept him coming back over and over again.

The ulitharid kept him and his magic a secret. In exchange, Raphraxus got to use him as
much as he wanted within his domicile. In truth, they were equally as powerful, but Syllan
loved to lose control, and he was happy to help Raphraxus with his desires.

Body tamers abstained from using psionics. Or so they were supposed to, but in the privacy
of his home, he disproved that the use of psionics made one weak. Syllan’s reactions to him
had become too much to resist. It was like a drug for the powerful aberration. He loved
scanning every thought in his head, feeling how he toyed with the draconic sorcerer as he
played hard to get. Syllan was as much a thrall as Raphraxus was, yet the roles they played
were darkly intimate.

Raphraxus opened the door to his cage. “Are you going to be a good boy and come out of
your cage for me? Or am I going to have to drag you out?” The ulitharid teased. As tempting
as it was to feel his powerful tentacles pull him out of the cage, he decided to be good and
obedient this time. Syllan crawls out on all fours. Raphraxus picked him up off the floor
effortlessly, bringing the sorcerer to his feet. “Are you ready for another test?”
Syllan whimpers, squirming weakly in the ulitharid’s grip. He was selectively mute,
stemming from an anxiety disorder. For years, he only spoke to cast his spells or one on one
with someone he trusted. His anxious condition had ironically improved after meeting
Raphraxus, but he loved to make the ulitharid work to bring him out of his shell.

“I can’t hear you. Can you speak up, darling?” Raphraxus teased. A slightly louder whimper
comes from Syllan. “No? That’s alright. You don’t have to. We both know how much I love it
when you fight it. I'm already in your head. Feel how I writhe inside your skull. From the
left… All the way to the right side of your brain."

Syllan shudders at the tingling sensation, looking at him with wide eyes. He backs away from
him, attempting to get away. He begins to speak the verbal component of a harmful spell.
Syllan knew he could handle it. It was a game of chicken with them. Raphraxus wrapped a
long tentacle around his arm, yanking him closer. He was careful not to grab the ring like
bruise that was still healing on his wrist. He firmly places his hand on the sorcerer's throat.

"Oh no no no. We know better than that. There's no way out of this other than the way where
I let you out." Raphraxus taunts as he stops the spell from being cast. He notes his partner's
racing heartbeat. He was like a scared rabbit. The ulitharid tilts his head to make him look at
him. "Are you alright?" He speaks in a firm yet caring manner.

Syllan nodded. "Yes…" The sorcerer whispered, calming down.

"Do you remember your safe words?" The ulitharid asks. Syllan nods, recalling them.

"Danger, slow. "

"Good… That's my good boy." Raphraxus gently pats Syllan's cheek. He picks the sorcerer up
and places him on a moss bed.

"Now then… Where were we?" His tentacles begin to snake their way up the half elf's legs.
Syllan squirmed against them. In an instant, Raphraxus was on him like a hungry predator,
pinning the squirming man with four of his six tentacles alone. Syllan hears a dark and
seductive laughter in his head. "Do you still think you can overpower me? That's cute. You're
weak. No muscles… I’d almost feel pity for you but I lost that ability a long time ago."
Raphraxus taunts.
The comments on his lack of strength made his mind and his loins tingle. Syllan squirmed
and whimpered even more in his grip. "What's that? I can't understand you, darling. Does it
make it hard to think when I restrain you?" His tendrils slide over patches of green scales on
Syllan's arms. Syllan was silent but his body ached for more. He looked at Raphraxus with
needy lustful eyes. "I'll take your silence as a yes… Now if only you could be more obedient.
Is it really so tempting to fight me?"

"Feels good." Syllan mentally responded. That earned him a chuckle from Raphraxus.

"That's understandable." The ulitharid says. He then leans over the desperate half elf. "But
it's time to say goodbye to these pretty clothes. They've been in my way long enough and
we've got an experiment to conduct." Raphraxus grabs at his tunic and his muscular arms rip
the fabric apart as if it were paper. His pants were miraculously spared the wrath of
Raphraxus, and were slipped off and tossed onto the floor.

Syllan gasps as his clothing was effortlessly pulled off his body. "F-fuck…" He muttered. It
excited him beyond anything another humanoid could do to him. Raphraxus' sheer strength
made him even weaker than he already was.

"I've got something new for you. An alchemist in the Nourisher Creed created this. I was able
to get Vebeva to slip me a discreet sample." He pulls a small 1 ounce jar containing a pink
jelly substance out of his pocket and holds it in front of Syllan to let him get a close look at
it.

"What is it?" Syllan asked mentally. He loved that he didn't have to open his mouth to talk to
Raphraxus. It was so easy and comfortable to communicate. Despite the roles they were
playing, he'd never felt more comfortable with anyone. Unfortunately, Raphraxus wasn’t
going to make it easy.

“Use your voice and maybe I’ll tell you. Here’s a hint. I’m going to have you eat it.” The buff
ulitharid teased. Syllan’s cheeks turned pink. He shifts in place as he works up the nerve to
sate his curiosity. “Wh-what is that? What are we doing with it?” He whispered.

“Hmm… Is that the best you can do?” Raphraxus asks, drinking in the sorcerer’s
embarrassment and arousal. “It’s kind of pathetic but I still cherish you. You’re still mine and
only mine…” His tentacles tighten around the half elf’s legs. “Do you understand?” They
asked. Syllan was so worked up all he could do was enthusiastically nod.

“I expect a yes… Or a no. The choice is yours.” The body tamer tries once again to get him
to use his words a little louder.

“Yes! Yes sir!” Syllan pushes himself to speak up.

“Good boy! I’ll reward you with the knowledge you seek… And more.” Raphraxus praised.
“Well they call this an aphrodisiac if you know what that means.” He explained. Syllan
actually didn’t know what that was.

Raphraxus picked up on his lack of knowledge quickly. “It’s supposed to make you perform
more and finish with a ‘bigger bang’ If you know what I mean. The point is, after you eat this,
I’m going to use you.” The ulitharid attempts to drive the point home. “Do you know what’s
going to happen now?”

“Yes.” Syllan whispered. He panted softly, getting completely worked up.

“Good. And do you know why?”

“Yes, Raphraxus.”

“You even said my name. Even better.” The ulitharid praises him. ”I noticed you stopped
squirming so much. I think it’s time to get our little experiment underway.” He removes the
lid from the jar and slathers the strange pink jelly onto one of his tentacles. “Say ‘Aah’…” He
commanded, holding the slathered tentacle in front of Syllan’s face. The half-elf hesitates for
only a moment before opening his mouth, letting Raphraxus’ tentacle slide against his tongue
and down his throat.

“That’s it… Suck it all off.” He thrusts his tentacle in and out of the half elf’s mouth to make
sure he gets it all. Syllan savors the sweet taste of it, sucking it clean. The ulitharid inspects
his tentacle after pulling it out of his mouth. “Not a bit left. Very good.” He praised Syllan.
The blond half elf is plunged deeper into his lustful daze as he feels a slick tentacle finally
give him the attention he’d been waiting for. It skillfully wraps around his shaft, coiling and
pumping it.

Syllan let out a soft moan. Within a few minutes, his moans became more frequent and a little
louder than usual. “Raph… What was in that stuff?” The half-elf asks a bit more confidently.
He was slowly coming out of his shell.
“Hm… I’m not sure.”

Syllan’s eyes widened a bit. He just ate some unknown substance!? “What do you mean you
don’t know!?”

Raphraxus gives him a hearty laugh in his mind. “I’m just messing with you. I think they said
it was ‘Essence of goblin pheromones’? Whatever that means. I guess Erux and his goblin
farm turned out to be useful for more than just staple food after all.”

“Goblin??” He couldn’t believe he just ate something like that.

“Are you complaining? Because I’ll be sure to correct that if you are.” Raphraxus teasingly
threatened, inching his tentacles away.

“Th-that won’t be necessary!” Syllan blurted out, giving a shy smile.

“That’s what I thought.” Raphraxus says with a seductive smugness. Eager to demonstrate
his power, he picks the half elf up. He was practically weightless in his arms and tentacles.
His arms were restrained behind his back by a single tentacle coiled around both of them.

“You don’t mind trying new and strange experiments, as long as you’ve got your big
muscular aberration to help you.” He mentally cooed to his weaker partner. Syllan became
completely erect in his grip. His cheeks were red.

“Use me…” Syllan whispered. He squirmed against a slimy tentacle teasing his ass, and
desperately tried to buck against the tentacle on his cock.

“ Mmn… You’ll have to speak up to get what you want. Just a little bit louder for me?
Please.” Raphraxus wanted his partner to let go completely. He wanted to see how much he
could please him. He wanted to make him beg a little for it.

“Use me!” Syllan pushes himself to say. He would get his reward as he felt Raphraxus filling
him with a tentacle. Whimpers turned to moans as he gave in to Raphraxus completely. The
ulitharid gave a content growl, rubbing a tentacle against his lips to let him lick and kiss it.

“Yes… Give in. I know how you love to lose control. How you beg for me to take it from
you.” Raphraxus was growing more worked up himself. “The way your legs tremble is so
cute…” The ulitharid’s breaths become heavier as he clings to the sorcerer. He knew what
made him tick. Every facet of Syllan’s desires was like a gem under his examination.
“Bend me over. Push my face into the pillow. Make me scream.” Syllan begged.

“ Ah…. Ah… This concoction has made you quite bold… I’m so proud of you.” Raphraxus
praised him between soft gurgled moans. “But you still need to say the magic words…” He
reminded him.

“Please! Please! Please do it! I want it!” He begged.

“Good boy… That’s my good boy.” He effortlessly uses his forbidden telekinesis to help him
change positions. He puts him on the bed and bends him over. He then grabs a handful of his
hair, pushing his head into a moss pillow. Syllan clings to it, moaning louder into it as
Raphraxus thrusts his tentacle inside of him roughly, his natural slime acting as a lubricant.

It was effortless to them now. The ulitharid truthfully loved seeing him ask for what he
wanted, to come out of his comfort zone and feel safe doing so. Treating the sorcerer, a thrall
race, as an equal worthy of love and safety was an abomination in his society. Raphraxus
didn’t care. This was their private time. Their sanctuary. Even his own personal thrall, a
middle aged dwarf woman of 180 years named Ormebela Goldfury, was denied entry into
this place.

Syllan drooled on the pillow, loving every second of this. The aphrodisiac clouded his mind
but he felt comfortable to be as loud as he wanted to. “I love turning your mind into my
personal little playground. Nothing can top the feeling I get from you.” Raphraxus admitted.
Even the pleasure of eating brains couldn’t reduce the excitement he felt, waiting for the next
time he’d see Syllan.

The half elf whimpers at his words. He was getting close. Raphraxus positioned his tentacles
to catch everything he would release. “Go ahead. Let it out!” He quickly gave him
permission to cum. Raphraxus’ tentacles spasm with Syllan’s release as the half elf cried out
into the pillow. He slowly pulls his tentacles away, inspecting his tentacles. He saw the seed
of the draconic bloodline dripping from them. “A very satisfactory result, wouldn’t you
say?”

Syllan flops onto the bed, rolling over onto his back. He smiles widely and gives Raphraxus a
thumbs up as the ulitharid cleans himself off. “You’ll have to wash my smell off yourself
when you get back to where you were…” He cleaned Syllan off as best he could.
“I’m not worried about it. My party just thinks it’s some weird fragrance I wear.” He laughed.
“I even made a fake bottle to fool them with Prestidigitation.” Syllan revealed. Raphraxus
chuckled.

“Smart boy… I wish you didn’t have to go.” He lays beside him, wrapping a toned arm
around Syllan.

“I wish you could come with me. I’d take you if you wanted me to.”

“Oh, Syllan… You know I can’t do that. It’s not safe for you here, and it’s not safe for me in
the world above. This… Temporary sanctuary is more than enough. I cherish each and every
hour we share together.” Raphraxus looked at him fondly. Syllan wraps his arms around the
ulitharid’s beefy arm.

“I’ll keep getting stronger. I’ll be strong enough to protect you one day. I promise. Then, I’ll
never have to leave again.” Syllan looked up at him, a bittersweet smile on his face.

“I want you to succeed, my little dragon… Give me one last kiss before you go.” He pulls
Syllan closer to his face. The half elf eagerly plants a loving kiss upon his forehead.

“I’ll do my best to see you again within a tenday. You know I’ll come back, no matter the
cost.” Syllan assured him.

He planted several more kisses on the ulitharid’s face before gently pulling away and casting
the teleport spell. Now he just had to think of another convenient excuse to explain his 8 hour
disappearance.

When Raphraxus exits his private room, Ormebela gives him a knowing smile. “Oh, stop
that.”

“I didn’t say anything, Master.” The dwarven lady smirks. “But since you brought it up, he
seems nice…”

“Yes, he is… Remember not to mention him to anyone else.” He reminded her, a tinge of
paranoia in his mind.

“My lips are sealed.” She reassured him. Raphraxus leans against the private room’s door,
sighing softly as he locks it back up. He couldn’t wait to see that sorcerer again.
 The Farmer and His Goblins
Chapter Summary

A chapter that introduces Erux and his goblin farm, as well as his thralls.
Everyone's been talking mad shit about him. May as well write about him.

Erux owned Ilduro, one of the city of Oryndoll’s many cavernous farm neighborhoods
surrounding the city above where the thralls were kept and bred. It was kept secluded away
from the warring tribes of other races that would inevitably try to mess with this supply of
thralls, not that violence really occurred due to the illithid masters quashing such thoughts
between the thrall races that hated each other.

Erux simply didn’t want the stink of troglodyte around his goblins. The tren hated warm
blooded creatures and Erux didn’t want the stupid beasts bothering his thralls. The duergar’s
sour moods would inevitably ruin their brains, making it taste depressingly gamey. The
farmer was very selective in what races interacted with his thralls. The only exotic surface
livestock he really allowed near them for social intermixing was a small tribe of his neighbor,
Tallexa, and her humans.

Tallexa’s farm was nice but far more quaint than his, as she had only started it the year
before. She was something of a pupil to Erux by virtue of simply being newer than him to
farming. Like everyone else, she’d likely begin to think she was too good for Erux and his
“starter thralls”. Until then, they were friendly acquaintances. He had actually purchased a
few of her thralls as farm hands for his own farm due to their tame demeanor. He was
selective, only purchasing thralls that would be less likely to harm his livestock physically
and emotionally.

Most of the goblins here were bred specifically for food, but a few were trained for jobs that
only small creatures could do, such as getting into small spaces. A few were even trained to
disable traps, and other rogue-like activities. These specialized goblins were on rare
occasions purchased by the Tamer Creed.

Erux’s daily routine first consisted of making sure his personal thralls were taken care of.
Erux had three of them, all goblin females. Malva, Quil and Ril. Malva had come from a
surface raid, owned by a human slaver. He had quickly discovered that poor Malva had been
sterilized and violated by her human master. Now she had a hypersexual fixation with
breeding that she could never achieve. Erux took her to The Breeding Pen even if she’d never
get pregnant just to make her feel happy. She also acted as a surrogate mother for any goblin
rejected by their parent. She admittedly made a wonderful mother. He never told anyone
about her lack of fertility, but he had a feeling everyone also knew and chose not to say
anything. His logic was that he’d just get one thrall.

It was good and cheap. How bad could one goblin be? After she started having fitful sleep, he
remembered that goblins sleep in piles, so of course he had to get her a friend! Goblins were
social and tribal creatures! It’s inhumane to not have at least two. That’s when he purchased
Quil. Quil revealed that she had a twin sister so of course he had to take in Ril as well.
Separating siblings would be too cruel! What if Quil and Malva get sick of eachother? They
needed a third wheel!

Well, he already had three. He may as well get one for each tentacle! He was in the process of
getting a fourth one from his own stock, but hadn’t found one yet that would mesh with the
social dynamics of his current personal thralls.

Malva was highly affectionate, coming a long way from the frightened little goblin she was.
Erux worked hard to make sure she got excellent and expensive psionic treatment for her.
Quil had a harsher personality. She'll occasionally bite at his tentacles and hands one moment
and the next she'll want to be picked up while pretending to hate it. Her sister Ril was far
more shy and demure. She needed far more reassuring than her sister, whom she was quite
close to. She was recently made pregnant from his cross breeding experiment. He wasn't sure
if the father was the human or the half elf, but he had been hoping it was the half elf.

He had wanted to use the back rooms for her, but such a privilege was only reserved for the
top 50%. He knew hard work would let him get there soon. He couldn't believe Zusrall had
gotten promoted over him! He figured Vizaness was simply being nepotistic.

"It's breakfast time! Come and get it!" Erux announced. The three goblins rush out into the
sitting room, clambering over each other to get fresh ripplebark, moss, and fish. Erux
chuckles. "Settle down. There's plenty. Don't push your sister, Quil. She's newly pregnant
now." He gently separates them and simultaneously gives them each a bowl of fresh food,
held in his tentacles.
Malva felt jealous at the news that her fellow thrall would be having babies but she took the
food graciously, giving his tentacle a smooch. "Thank you, master!" She said, earning her a
gentle headpat with the tentacle.

Quil greedily pounces, scratching the tentacle that feeds her. "No." Erux gently scolds,
earning her a spritz to the face with a glass spray bottle of water.

"Ack!" Quil recoils from the cold water and digs into her food. Ril gently takes her food,
carefully pulling it from Erux to her. "Hey! How come she gets more fish!?" Quil peeks at
her sister's bowl.

"Because she needs more nutrients for the offspring." Erux tells her.

"I wanna go to The Breeding Pen too!" She was originally hesitant to breed but it looks like
Erux found her motivation.

"Very well then. I'll take you today." Wanting to strike while her good mood remained.

He looked at Malva, noting her jealousy. "Don't look so sad. I'll do something special with
you later." He privately tells her. The frowning goblin slowly starts to smile. "That's my
treasured thrall."

In addition to some human thralls as staff, everything was kept in line by a few other illithids.
This particular farm had 6 other illithids. They all ranged between the ages of 10 at the
youngest to 25 at the oldest. Most were adolescents of the Nourisher Creed learning how to
handle and raise thralls. Most interning illithids came to either Erux's farm or to a kobold
farm on the other side of the city.

"I'll be back in a couple hours. Master has work to do. And Malva? Be good and stay out of
the male caverns!" He tells his prize thralls. They basically had free roam of the farm for the
most part. Erux set to work training the hires, as well as making sure the thralls knew what
was expected of them. The youngest illithid, Usgara, was merely receiving education on the
subject. They weren't ready to be hands on with the thralls for at least another 5 years.
Keggin, Tesok, and Zusk were all 15 year olds learning to tame thralls. They helped keep the
goblins in line and kept the males from injuring each other. Oglex, the 19 year old, kept the
human thralls in line, and the only other adult among them, Largidussk, was second in
command to help them when Erux wasn't there.
After helping Largidussk gather a fresh batch of thralls for the market, he calls for his prize
thralls and puts a chain onto Quil's collar. "Hmph…" she pouts. "I can walk by myself!"

"Then start walking if you want all that extra fish." Erux teased. "Don't make me carry you
again. I'll tell everyone what a big baby you are."

Quil blushed. "You wouldn't dare!"

"You really think I won't?"

Quil whimpers and moves forward, matching her master's pace. "I-it's not like you're
embarrassing me or anything!" She grumbles.

"Of course not." Erux chuckles.

Erux takes her to The Breeding Pen. This was actually Quil's first time breeding. She blushes
watching the other thralls in the main pen while trying to pretend it didn't arouse her so much.
Erux squats to eye level with her. "Do any of them catch your eye?"

"Hmm. That one!" She points at Kalamash with Zusrall's thrall. Erux laughs.

"That one is too big for you!" Erux wasn't about to destroy his virgin thrall. "His owner might
have a different thrall you can play with. Why don't we ask her?" Vizaness was at least the
more helpful of the festhall's "entertainment providers" and breeding consultants.

Erux approaches Vizaness. "Ah, the goblin farmer returns yet again." She notices. "With a
spicier goblin… Or so she likes to think." She teases Quil.

"It's her first time breeding but she definitely seems to lean towards taller mates… Could you
bring us to the back so I can better ensure her comfort?" Erux asks for his favor.

"I can't do that. You're of an insufficient ra-" She tries to deny him but she's cut off by Erux.

"Please don't fuck with me. I know you're lying because the rules state that a higher ranking
staff can accompany a lower ranking illithid, thus waiving the 50% breeder requirement. I
saw you and Zusrall bring Thesrassk's low rank ass in there. What do I have to bribe you
with??" Erux called her out on her bullshit.

He knew he would never be able to get into the Noble's Section or anything like that but
Vizaness could help him if he could grease her palms a bit. "Alright, alright. I suppose there
is one thing I want. Get me more of that aphrodisiac. About 8 ounces will do it." She agreed
smugly. She leads the two of them to a private room. "She is cute… In a feral sort of way."
She moves a tentacle to inspect the goblin.

“I’m still training her not to bite.” Erux warned. “Be good. Stay still. She has to do this if
you want to mate…” He reassuringly puts a hand on her shoulder.

“Charming…” She tells him sarcastically. Vizaness proceeds cautiously and removes the
goblin’s clothes, inspecting her for any signs of transmissible disease. “You keep your goblins
pretty clean, I’ll give you that much…”

Quil started blushing at being handled like this. It felt funny. “Quil, if you get scared or
uncomfortable, you can let me know and we’ll stop.” Erux assured her.

“I-I’m not scared! I’m a brave goblin!” She denied.

“The bravest goblin.” Erux patted her head, causing the blush on her cheeks to worsen.

“We have a male drow named Izzven here. We could see how she likes him. He’s a gentle
lover for first timers.” Vizaness offers. “Casber rents him out for a good and cheap rate.
They’re certainly here now. I can go retrieve that thrall for you.”

Erux deposits the payment of a mindgate into Vizaness’ hand. That sounded perfect. Vizaness
leaves the room and after a few minutes of bickering with Casber about making his thrall
fuck a lowly goblin and Vizaness hissing that she was promised eight ounces of aphrodisiac,
she finally returned with the drow. Unlike his master, Izzven did not at all mind that his
partner was a goblin. Quil found her partner equally as attractive, and was becoming nervous
about what she was supposed to be doing! She’s seen what male goblins do with females
before but she couldn’t wrap her head around someone so tall and handsome doing things
like that to her.

“It’s alright. I’m right here, Quil.” Erux calmly reassures her. Izzven guides her onto the
bed.
“Just relax. I’ll take care of everything for you.” Izzven’s words are like honey. She got
butterflies in her stomach as she laid back against the bed. Erux sits next to her to keep an eye
on her as Izzven gets to work. She turns into a blushing mess just from him kissing her. She
wasn’t a bad kisser, however. She had plenty of “practice” with Malva. Her make out session
with the drow left her breathless.

“Mind if I read your mind?” Erux asked.

“D-don’t! Embarrassing!” Quil whimpered. Erux gave her a gentle pat on the head.

“That’s alright. Just enjoy yourself.” Erux accepted. Vizaness was surprised.

“I don’t mind if you want to observe my thoughts.” Izzven tells Erux. Vizaness already was.

“You let your thrall tell you no?? You know you could easily make her do what you want.”
She privately tells Erux.

“She’s just as likely to change her mind later. I need her first time to be pleasant, even if it’s
without me. I know her very well.” Erux assures her. He then decides to take up Izzven’s
offer. Izzven gently puts a hand between her legs to inspect how aroused she was. He gently
rubs at her clitoris to relax and arouse her further.

“Hnnmmn… Give… Give it now!” She moans by the time he had her legs trembling. Izzven
helps her get on top. Vizaness was preparing him with her tentacles the entire time. “So this
is what goes on in the back rooms.” Erux teased. He had a feeling but honestly, he didn’t
mind at all. He secretly did these things with Malva in his own home after all.

“If you and your business partner, Ellimol’s aphrodisiac gets any results, you might be back
room material after all, Erux. Some of us Nourishers want to see if increasing the libido of
certain thrall races will improve their fertility. And even if it doesn’t it might have other
uses.” Vizaness explains, with the temptation of him finally joining the back room tier. It’s
what he’d been working towards for years. This was only a taste of things to come.

Izzven brings Quil on top of him, allowing her full control of the situation. She tries to
imitate what she saw the other goblins doing. Apparently wild breeding sex was a lot more
than she could handle as she let out a pained whimper. Hearing his thrall’s discomfort, Erux
instinctively grabs her, pulling her up a bit. “Slow down, you silly goblin! You can’t start off
that hard… Are you alright?” Erux holds her close, holding her just over the tip of Izzven’s
penis.
“Gn…! I’m fine!” She pouted, embarrassed by her mistake. “That hurt…” she admitted.

“I bet it did… Do you want my help?” Her master offers. Quil blushes and holds onto one of
his tentacles with her left hand. Her right hand holds the illithid’s hand on her waist tightly.

“M-maybe… Only because you’re offering! I could totally do it myself i-if I really wanted
to! I just need a little adjustment is all…” The stubborn goblin reluctantly accepts him into
her mind.

She slowly relaxes as Erux eases her back onto Izzven’s cock. A tentacle stimulates her
clitoris as his arms help her adapt to the sensation of being entered. “Better…” She muttered
through shaky breaths.

“You’re doing so well…” Izzven praises between shaky moans. He’s enjoying the tight
goblin immensely while absentmindedly stroking Vizaness’ tentacles.

“B-but he’s doing it f-for meee…” She whined. She didn’t really see herself as all that great
right now.

“And you’re taking it so well.” Erux praises. “I can let go if you want me to.” He offered.

“D-don’t s-s-stop…” She told her master with shaky breaths.

“See? I told you she’d change her mind.” Erux truly did know his thralls.

“How amusing…” Vizaness observes, before teasingly sliding the tip of a slimy tentacle over
the drow’s ear, working Izzven up even more. His face flushed as the elven erogenous zone
was stimulated.

“A-ah! Vizaness, th-that’s going to make me cum…!” He bites his lower lip, his breathing
gets heavier.

“I know. That’s the point, you handsome toy… Cum for me.” She started teasing both of his
ears which caused Izzven’s head to empty as his face turned redder. He involuntarily bucks
his hips into Quil. Every thrust filled the goblin up, making her moan louder as she was at the
mercy of Erux’s tentacle and Izzven’s cock.

“Fuck! Yes! Breed me!” Quil begged, a lewd smile was on her face as she started to drool.
She was losing control of herself and she loved it! Erux held onto her tightly, his tentacles
dripping all over her. She couldn’t care less that her master was making her all messy. She
gets excited at the sound of Izzven’s voice straining. Erux forces her to take his cock balls
deep and she feels his seed squirting inside her. Vizaness groans pleasurably at how powerful
his orgasm was.

The mere sensation was enough to finally push Quil and Erux over the edge. She writhes on
Izzven’s cock, riding out her orgasm with Erux. He finally releases her, allowing her to slide
off of the drow and flop onto the bed. She giggled in her afterglow as she laid next to Izzven.
Erux helps her up and cleans her off himself, something most illithids in this festhall didn’t
do for their thralls. Usually they were taken care of by other thralls. “I’m so proud of you.
You did very well.” Erux praised.

“I’ll definitely get into contact with Ellimol as soon as possible for you, Vizaness. Compared
to how special you made her first time for us, it was excellent for the price.” Erux happily
agreed to their earlier terms. “I can’t thank you enough. I’ll be sure to keep you informed if
this attempt at breeding was a success.”

“It was surprisingly a pleasure, Erux. I know we top breeders engage in ribbing you quite a
bit…” She stops just short of outright saying she was wrong about him. Erux looks at her to
finish her sentence. “Don’t give up, alright? Your stock is cheap but good. Zusrall’s just being
a nonce when he says you breed poor stock. Don’t listen to him.”

“I appreciate your kind words, Vizaness.” Erux picks up Quil and carries her. On the way
home, he stops by the market, buying his favored thralls some new toys. He allows Quil to
pick out a kaleidoscope imported from the surface realms of Calimshan. He of course has to
get three because if they don’t all get the same thing, they will inevitably argue over who got
what. He also buys some dried and salted fish from the bazaar “Don’t tell Malva or your
sister, but here’s a treat… Take it gently. ” He reminds her, holding it in front of her. She
hesitates a moment before sticking her mouth onto the fish and gently pulling it out of his
hand.

Quil happily eats her fish, savoring the treat all the way home as Erux carried her home in his
arms.
 Catering To Your Every Whim
Chapter Summary

Vebeva has some one on one time with her favorite thrall.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-6WCqppQbs

Whim begins his day washing his face, and styling his hair and trimming his beard. He
always made sure to keep himself sharp and presentable, as the prize thrall of an ulitharid had
many important duties. He kept her budget, his charm was used to help her interact with
those of lesser status. One of his most important duties was hosting. Greeting guests, and
serving food and drink. He was even given the responsibility of training Natiri, making sure
the tiefling knew how to polish and care for Vebeva’s favorite art pieces and objects… And
telling his mistress if she didn’t.

Whim was a man of many skills, able to competently handle all of Vebeva’s unpredictable
needs of her home and laboratory. Maintaining her finances, speaking to guests on her behalf,
and arranging all of her social events was all within his abilities. He could even cook, and
unlike most thralls in Oryndoll, he always ate fresh food. Nothing was ever dried for
preservation. Vebeva loved to taste link with Whim for the taste of fine wine and cheese. He
even got to taste sweets which he personally crafted. Honeycake was his mistress’ favorite.
Giving his mistress a vicarious experience of luxury pleased him greatly. Natiri was allowed
a bite or two and Vebeva delighted in watching Whim make her earn every morsel.

The ulitharid sits at her favorite table, reading Ellimol’s updates on their latest alchemy
project in qualith. Vebeva was hoping to collaborate with them for her own personal needs.
She was certain her own experience with brewing potions could increase the potency of
whatever product they were making. She had even offered Natiri as a test subject in her
response. That would surely get their attention. She carefully wraps her correspondence in
parchment, sealed with her own personal seal of wax.

“Natiri.” She called for her least favorite thrall.

“Wh- I mean, yes, Vebava?” Natiri caught herself. It was an improvement so she would let it
slide for now.
“I have a correspondence to deliver to Ellimol. Take it to them. When you return, Whim and I
will be in a…” The ulitharid looks over at Whim, admiring his butt as he polishes a silver
ewer. “ Private meeting in my chambers. Do NOT bother me if you value your life. Just
quietly do whatever you want when you return. I really don’t care.” She instructed the tiefling
mentally.

“Alright, I got it. I mean, yes mistress!” Natiri wasn't going to argue against getting a break.

Vebeva would eat Natiri’s brain without hesitation if she had to choose between her two
thralls but she was starting to become… Important to Whim whether he knew it or not. Thus,
she subconsciously started to grow on her too. She watches Natiri leave to complete her task.
Once Vebeva was certain she was gone, she quietly floats behind Whim.

"Whim, I have immediate need of you in my chambers." She tenderly wrapped her tentacle
around his platinum collar, tugging him away from his duties. Whim gives her that charming
smile as he carefully puts down a silver spoon. He cleaned her chamber once a week and
gave it a deep top to bottom cleaning once every three months. He would often find himself
sniffing at her bedding and clothes, taking in her scent before he washed them.

She'd caught him doing that once before, but he was able to gracefully convince her that he
was merely checking if it was clean or not. She thought his embarrassment was merely due to
him looking a little less than dignified in his methods. She truly had no idea how deep his
obsession with her ran.

Getting to kiss her recently felt heavenly to him. Vebeva only got a taste of how much he
adored her. She dominated his thoughts to his very core. No matter how far away he was, his
thoughts were of her. His last "deployment" on the surface which lead to Natiri's acquisition
was his hardest, yet he dutifully deceived the tiefling with honeyed words and lies. He didn't
regret it in the slightest as he followed Vebeva to her chambers.

"Whim… How would you like a personal reward just for you?" She asks him. He looks up at
her, a smile on his face.

"I would graciously accept anything you give me, Mistress. You are most generous, grand
and wise." He complimented her. "What reward does the mistress find befitting of her loyal
servant?" He was curious and eager.

"Me." She laughs softly at how his cheeks turned pink. "More specifically a pleasant
experience between yourself and I. Would you like that, Whim?" She probes his mind for
more.

"Yes! I would love nothing more. I'd cherish the memory forever." He tells her, putting great
care into sounding graceful and dashing. His mind was screaming for her. He felt a tingle in
his loins, and heat in his face. He truly meant it when he said he'd do anything for her. No
matter the cost, he would dutifully and happily serve.

"Very good, Whim. It's just you and I." She caresses his cheek. She wraps a tentacle around
his hand and leads him to her large moss bed. She laid out a silk blanket for him to keep
himself dry. Her room was lit for him by glowing fungus which gave off a purple and
romantic lighting.

Whim wanted to give her a sensual performance. He'd give her a strip tease she'd never
forget. He started taking off his shirt in a tantalizing manner. His display of passion was
clearly working because she pulled him close, getting a firm grip on his butt.

"Mmm… I love a lady who knows what she wants." He complimented. Whim gingerly takes
a tentacle in his hand, kissing it.

"Oh ho ho, such a gentleman." She flirted back, wrapping her tentacles around his chest and
waist. The sensation felt so good to Whim. It was all he ever wanted.

"Such a good boy…" Her praise whispers in his mind. She tenderly wraps a tentacle around
his neck, rubbing the tip of it against his lips. He eagerly delivers gentle licks and kisses to it,
letting his senses get taken over by her. She gives him a sultry and eager whimper. He was so
handsome. So perfect and beautiful. The way he looked at her with lustful eyes filled her with
a feeling no other being gave her before. She pulls him into bed, using her tentacle as a leash
to lead him.

“Mmmn, yes. I’m your perfect and capable servant, Mistress.” He climbs into bed. “I can be
your dog. You know I’ll sit, beg and roll over for you.” He practically prostrated himself
before her.

“You know so many more tricks than a mere dog.” Vebeva praised. She slips out of her robes
and pulls him into her lap. “Just relax and enjoy your reward. You don’t have to think about
anything other than feeling good.” She holds him close to her warm body and pulls off his
pants with her tentacles. She tenderly cradles him in her arms.
“You’re so kind and generous.” He praised, leaning against her chest as she was far taller
than him. Whim closes his eyes as the ulithard’s delicate long and clawed fingers trail up and
down his stomach and chest. The handsome butler was in pure bliss. He doesn’t bother
breaking out of his bliss, moaning softly as he accepts her tentacles wrapping around him
once more. Two tentacles bring his wrists together before a single tentacle holds them
together in front of his chest. A pair of tentacles manage to tie a ribbon of silk over his eyes.
It was not at all an easy trick to learn and she had definitely practiced it beforehand.

It made him feel like the captive prize of a conqueror. “Oh, fuck…” Whim gasped. She could
feel how worked up he was getting from being blindfolded and loosely restrained by her.

“Did you forget how to use your words? It’s alright. I don’t blame you.”

“You leave me breathless and thoughtless, Mistress.” He tells her. He finally feels the
ministrations of her tentacles on his genitals, letting out a pleased and surprised moan. “Oh
mistress… My dear Vebeva.” He bucks against her coiling tentacle. She meets his
movements eagerly, pumping his erection with her slick tentacle. Natiri’s warmth couldn’t
compare, but he did appreciate her. Without her, he wouldn’t have this. His hard work paid
off and now he could finally have his mistress all to himself.

She found herself getting more and more aroused, whimpering at his thoughts of having her
all to himself. It was morphing into a strange urge for her. The elder brain’s hum grows
quieter as she looks at his face. A connection she’d never felt before with anyone started to
form and she wanted to dive deeper into it. She started moaning with him, slipping into it.
She tries to pull back a little, she needed to know more before she gave in completely.
“Whim… What is this…? It feels…”

“You can truly feel it…? How deeply I love you, Vebeva!” He gasps softly between pleased
whimpers. Those words shake her to her core.

“ Oh Whim… So this is love! It’s incredible! I desire to feel it more!” She continues pumping
his erection. She watched his blissful blindfolded face. She felt a strange desire to kiss him.
She wished it could be so with every fiber of her being. She knew it was odd yet she couldn’t
push the thought away.

Curse Zusrall! It was all his fault! If he hadn’t pestered her with his ridiculous and hilarious
requests, she wouldn’t have held onto Natiri long enough to feel this unscratchable itch. She
settles for a tentacle against his lips. “Kiss me to your heart’s desire, Whim.” She tells him, to
which he eagerly obliges.

Natiri returned to hear impassioned moans and slick squishing noises from Vebeva’s
chambers. She rolls her eyes and quietly returns to her room to engage in her own hobby,
whittling wood. Vebeva constantly belittled her “primitive little carvings” but Natiri didn’t
care as long as she let her do her hobby. She wraps herself in Whim’s blanket. She hated his
smug face, his pompous perfectly styled hair and the dumb posh voice, yet she pulled the
blanket tighter to her.

As Natiri loathed, her mistress and the head thrall loved. They loved deeply and completely.
Whim relaxed in her grip, holding her tentacle between his bound hands and kissing it
lovingly. “It’s alright if you want to make a mess. I want you to… Oh fuck, Whim, make a
mess!” She loses herself completely to the feelings they shared. Whim obeyed her every
desire as he let the feeling build up. His back arches. This moment was made just for them.
Just as he thinks he can take it no longer, he releases all over her tentacle. He feels her hands
tremble as she holds him tightly. He couldn’t see her, but he knew she enjoyed it. He’s left
panting and sweating as he affectionately leans against her.

Vebeva removes his blindfold and lovingly strokes his cheek with a tentacle. “Would it be
permissible to stay here, just a little longer?” He asked his beloved mistress.

She wipes her cum drenched tentacle off using his pants. It isn’t as if he couldn’t wash them.
He had a clean pair to change into. She then silently answers his question by using
telekinesis to place him onto the blanket and holding him close to her. She couldn’t speak. He
left her wordless, yet Whim could feel warmth. They didn’t need words at the moment.

When she finally came out of her daze, she allowed Whim to carry on with his duties. He
would have to first get changed. “No other thrall could ever come before you, my precious
Whim… May the gift we have shared stay with you through your duties.” She spoke warmly.

“It shall. Thank you, Mistress.” He bowed graciously to her, after neatly gathering his
clothes. Natiri had quirked an eyebrow as he entered the room in the buff with a big smile on
his face. He smelled like her even after he had cleaned himself up and changed his clothes.

While Whim was getting freshened up, Vebeva wrote a qualith tablet to Zusrall. She would
have Whim deliver it.
“I have a rather unorthodox request. Meet me at The Breeding Pen, you peon. I can get you
into a Noble’s Room and… I’ll let your prize thrall play with Natiri as compensation.
Unfortunately, you’re the only one who can answer some queries I have and it’s YOUR fault I
have them! - Vebeva”
 Is it Weird to Want to Kiss Your Thrall?
Chapter Summary

Shout out to Gremlin for DMing me this meme.

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/ITJu6fTn3r4

Vebeva wants to know the answer to the titular question

Today you heard laughter from your master, Zusrall’s, office. “My dear thrall! You simply
have to hear this!” Zusrall called for you, apparently wishing to share whatever had
delighted him so much. He recounts Vebeva’s note to you, and you smile widely and begin to
snicker too.

“Your fault?? Whatever did you do, Master?” You asked with a grin.

“I haven’t the faintest conclusion how she deduced fault in me, or for what, but I think I have
some educated guesses…” Zusrall responded to you. “So… Did you still want that prize
tiefling thrall?” He asked.

“Hmm… I think you’re far better than any thrall, Master, but I certainly wouldn’t complain
about spending time with Natiri.” You give him a smile. You wouldn’t pry into his dealings
with Vebeva. She was a noble. To even ask seemed well above your station. You did
however, get the feeling that today would be a good day.

You eagerly completed your chores for your master, making sure everything was in its proper
place so you could wear your leash. You didn’t need it. You’d happily walk beside him
without it. You could never dream of running away from him, but the weight of that chain
made you feel safe. It was as if you’d never be far from him and he’d keep you close. You
wanted to hold his hand so badly and lean on his arm, but in public, Zusrall kept you at a
distance. He thought his bond with you was scandalous, though he found himself walking
close to you. You were happy to keep it your secret if it meant he got to hold you close in the
domicile.

Today in the main pen among the various thralls, a nervous male stout halfling was being
teased by three goblins. He was a blushing and confused mess as one was tugging at his
clothes and begging him to let her suck his cock, the second was calling him a baby for
whimpering so much, and the third was very politely asking if she could kiss him. He seemed
quite fond of the shy one as he gave in to her, causing the three goblins to pounce on him as
he kissed her.

You thought that scene was rather amusing and arousing before your master gently tugs you
along. He flashes Vebeva's seal of approval to the door man with a smug air. The bouncer
was a large and imposing ceremorph made from an ettin. They shift aside, allowing you and
Zusrall to enter the caverns. You whistle, clearly impressed by your surroundings. Fine foods
you've never tasted, and every indulgence imaginable for a thrall was here.

Only thralls wearing platinum collars were here. You even saw the Festhall's current owner,
an ulitharid named Slisskbax, showing off his rare female aasimar who simply went by the
name Angel. He and Vebeva were comparing thralls. She had an adamantine collar. Slisskbax
notices you and you shy away from his gaze.

"Was the bouncer simply looking the other way and you got lost?" He teased Zusrall.

"It was I who invited him." Vebeva informed him as she was comparing the tiefling's bust size
to the aasimar.

"Ah, leave it to the new member to bring a 50%-er into the fold. It's okay you didn't know any
better so I'll let it slide." Slisskbax allows this.

"Top 40% now… " Zusrall corrected him.

"Oh, that's right! You got a promotion! Congratulations." Slisskbax's praise came across as
insincere but he did at least acknowledge your master's proper place. "Well, I'll leave you to
it." Slisskbax goes back to auctioning off some personal time with his favored thrall.

Vebeva quietly leads Zusrall and you to a private and lavishly decorated room. It had one
secret closely guarded by Slisskbax. These rooms were entirely discreet. It was shielded from
all mental intrusion from outside. Not even the elder brain could hear what was thought in
these rooms. It was perfect for Vebeva's needs. Whim and Natiri were enjoying deep oysters
with a sauce made from the latest experimental aphrodisiac.

Vebeva offered you a share, and you eat it as the ulitharid discussed her needs with Zusrall.
"Please enlighten me as to what I am at fault for." Zusrall requests. He was admittedly a bit
nervous. In a rare moment of embarrassment, Vebeva started to blush.

"I ended up sensing a… Deep connection with Whim when we… Got intimate and I…" She
looks at Zusrall, who's tentacles have curled and scrunched in a manner like one really trying
not to laugh.

"It's not funny!" She snapped. "Is it weird to want to kiss your Thrall?" She came out and
asked. The tension in the room was immediately sucked out for Zusrall. Someone else felt the
same way he did? A noble at that?

"I thought so at first… It feels quite natural now after what you just told me." Zusrall tells
her. “You can indulge this urge by taking complete control of another thrall. You should
however, take care to only pick thralls that can enjoy each other already for the best
experience." He explained. "Far easier if you don't have to force what you want."

Vebeva seemed to be in thought for a moment. "Could I borrow your thrall for a couple
minutes?"

You blush at the thought of being taken for a ride by the ulitharid. You had no complaints,
however. The human man was just as pretty as the tiefling to you. If it was alright with
Zusrall, you'd be happy to make a good impression.

"Hmm. Well they're alright with it. May I test out your tiefling? I have to ensure their…
Compatibility with my thrall." Zusrall agrees.

"Do what you like with her. She seems to enjoy it when I punish her… It's frustrating."
Vebeva agreed. All she wanted was to kiss Whim. She'd let Zusrall put his tentacles all over
Natiri for that. It seemed to be a good and cheap price.

"Oh? You like it rough, do you?" He looks to Natiri. He wraps a tentacle around her neck and
pins her to the luxuriously large bed. The tiefling's tail began to wag involuntarily as the
oysters worked to heighten her excitement. Your jaw drops as you watch your master
dominate the prize thrall. Natiri was left speechless.
"Master, it's really arousing to see you dominate from this angle…" You sheepishly admit.

"Vebeva, if I may offer a suggestion?" He privately offers his advice to the ulitharid.

"I'm listening… ?" She allows him to continue.

"Try shifting your perspective. It seems strange, but think like your thrall. Everything is give
and take when you want an obedient thrall. Watch this." He pulls Natiri over his lap and
starts spanking her while lightly choking her. She hisses, trying to hold in her cries and
moans to no avail.

"Do you read her mind while doing this?" He asked her. The illithid probing her mind only
aroused Natiri more and left her a cussing, moaning mess.

“Why would I bother doing something like that!? Why should I feel my thrall's pain?" Vebeva
laughed.

"It is required for you to fully understand my advice. It will not harm you." He tells her.
Vebeva hides her reluctance before focusing on her thrall’s mind.

"I'm not afraid, you pe-ON!" She squeaked in surprise as he spanked Natiri mid sentence.
Whim looked at his mistress with concern.

"What are you doing!?" Whim cried out in disbelief that someone could do that to his
mistress. Vebeva holds onto Whim's arm.

"Settle down. I'm fine… Just surprised." She regains her composure but her tentacles writhe
as she tries so hard not to admit to enjoying Natiri's state of mind.

Then Zusrall pulls away completely. Natiri whined, wanting more. "See how desperate she's
getting? Try treating your punishments as rewards. In other words for some thralls, any
attention is good attention. Ignore her when she misbehaves. That will be very hard to master
but I know an ulitharid can do it. Give her what she wants only when she gives you what you
want. Be consistent, clear and concise."
"You made it seem so simple. How interesting… Natiri, do you want Zusrall to keep
dominating you?" Vebeva asked.

"Yes, mistress! More, please!" Her tail wags as she bends over on all fours. Zusrall secretly
thought she was adorable like this. It was a bit saddening to him how little Vebeva seemed to
value her. "She called me mistress without hesitation. Zusrall, that's incredible! Please
continue training her. I think I'll be borrowing your thrall now." Vebeva seemed quite pleased
with Natiri's improving behavior. “Alright, Whim. You and I are going to be trying something
new…” She tells her favorite thrall.

You feel Vebeva taking control of you. “They are… Certainly above average but since it’s
you assuming control, they’re perfect.” Whim tells his mistress. Vebeva uses your hands to
cup his face and passionately press her lips against his, thankfully shutting the smug butler
up. Whim eagerly returns the kisses.

“What a little asshole!” Zusrall thinks to himself. He’s pulled out of his thoughts of anger at
this pompous thrall calling his favored thrall less than perfect by Natiri grinding her wet
pussy against one of his tentacles. He gets a firm grip on her horn with a tentacle. The
tentacle she was grinding against slips into her pussy, and thrusts roughly. He spanked her as
he used her.

“What do we say?” He asked her.

“Thank you!” Natiri moaned.

“Thank you…?” He delivers another smack to her ass.

“Sir!” She corrects herself.

“What are you thanking me for?” He pushes her for more.

“Thank you for fucking me, sir!” Natiri panted.

You find yourself giving in, listening to Zusrall play with the thrall you wanted to play with.
Before you knew it, your lips traveled down Whim’s body, trailing down his navel and you
ended up between his legs. “Mistress will take care of everything…” Your own voice comes
out of your mouth in a sultry tone that wasn’t yours. “My perfect thrall. My precious Whim.”

“Oh, mistress… You really needn’t put yourself there for me…” Whim actually felt humbled
for once. He couldn’t imagine her controlling a thrall to even pretend to put herself in a
submissive position! He didn’t deserve all that. “Surely, I’m not that special, Mistress.” He
covered his mouth in surprise as his cheeks turned pink.

“You are that special to me.” Your voice through Vebeva’s will assured him. You feel your
lips wrapping around his cock. Your head bobs up and down on his hard shaft.

“Oh, my…” Whim muttered. Vebeva finally releases her control of you as she brings herself
behind Whim to hold him close.

Although you had complete control of yourself, you couldn’t seem to stop servicing Whim
with your mouth. Your submissive nature truly had the better of you. “That’s a good prized
thrall. So dutiful. I’ll certainly be leaving a good review of your master if you can help Whim
finish.” You feel her voice in your mind praising you.

“Mm… Mistress, I want to finish on their face.” He placed his hand on your head as his
other hand held onto one of her tentacles. “They’d be so lucky to have their face painted by a
platinum thrall, don’t you think?”

“Mmmn… As long as you clean them up when you’re done.” Vebeva tells him. “Some people
can’t appreciate fine art.” She crudely jokes, looking at Zusrall who was trying not to glare at
Whim. You soon find yourself completely pushed out of the action between the two of them
as Vebeva pushes you out of the way with her tentacles and takes Whim all for herself.
Zusrall rolls his eyes at the two of them. They forgot all about you.

“Come, I’ll take care of you.” Zusrall calls you over. You shyly introduce yourself to Natiri.
She’s so pretty to you, it was intimidating. “Don’t be shy. Natiri, show them how nice you
are.” Zusrall secretly wondered why Vebeva even bothered having a second thrall if she only
really cared about Whim. He had no idea that it was because of Natiri that she had gotten so
close to Whim in the first place.

Natiri obliges her temporary master and kisses your lips. Softly at first but her kisses grow
more and more passionate. Zusralls tentacles work on pleasuring you both at the same time.
You cling to her. You’re kissing her neck. “Oh fuck… Master, you're so good!” You groaned.
You ignored Whim and Vebeva as you heard the smug butler finish in his mistress’ tentacles.
She didn’t forget about what Whim originally wanted as she rubbed the messy tentacle
against your face.
Zusrall was about to get mad at the sheer disrespect for his thrall until you started licking it
eagerly. “Oh ho ho! You actually do have a fine thrall, Zusrall.” She complimented
genuinely. Natiri found herself reaching her limits.

“Please, can I cum? Please…” She begged.

“For asking so nicely, yes you may.” Zusrall affirmed. Natiri shivered, holding you tight. You
held her tail out of the way so it wouldn’t smack your master as she moaned loudly against
your chest. As she panted softly, a small smile on her face from getting relief she so
desperately needed, you allowed your master to pull you close to him. You let Natiri rest on
the bed. It was your turn.

You closed your eyes, searching for the bond you two shared that one day. “No one else
matters right now…” You mentally tell him, breathing in his vanilla-garlic scent. His
tentacles and thoughts left you with a feeling that transcended your body. You got it now. You
both understood why Vebeva and Whim had abandoned you for each other. No one else
mattered at this moment. You lovingly kiss his tentacles as you focus your mind solely on
him and the feeling you shared. You found that deep bond. Vebeva found her face getting hot
as she observed what was going through your minds and she quickly withdrew from your
thoughts.

She couldn’t explain why, but it was if she were intruding upon something she shouldn’t look
at. You felt it building up, and you were both rocked to your very core as you cried out
pleasurably. It was the best feeling you’ve ever felt in your life. You were so glad to feel it
again.

“Fascinating… You felt this ‘love’ emotion too.” Vebeva privately tells Zusrall. Zusrall blinks
in confusion.

“I’m still figuring that out.” Zusrall admitted. “Wait… Is that what you were blaming me
for?? How is that MY fault?” Zusrall wiggled a tentacle in a confused manner.

“Yes! If you hadn’t sent those inane requests I- You know what? It doesn’t matter how! It’s all
your fault!” She takes a deep breath, her cheeks turning pale as she blushes. “Thank you…
For your assistance.”

Zusrall was confused by her rather erratic behavior. “You’re welcome?”

As the ulitharid and Zusrall mentally bickered, you cleaned Natiri up, giving her a gentle
smile. “Thank you. I hope you had fun.” You gently tell her.
“I did. Thanks…” She gives you a shy and rarely seen smile. Whim also keeps his promise to
Vebeva. He turns your face towards him. He licks your lips to enjoy the taste of his mistress’
slime. You blushed at this bizarre attachment to his mistress before he wipes your face clean
with a damp and clean rag.

Zusrall hooks your chain to your collar. “I suppose if you wished for more training services,
they are good and cheap from myself or Vizaness.” Zusrall informed Vebeva.

“Well I won’t be ruling you out. You certainly surprised me.” She admitted to thinking little
of him, but her perceptions had since changed.

After leaving the Noble’s Area you hear Zusrall’s voice in your mind.

“Damn nobles…”

You quietly wheezed and giggled. “It was… Interesting?? Uhm… I don’t know what was in
those oysters but it still hasn’t worn off completely…” You blushed, realizing you were still
rather aroused.

“Still??” Zusrall was surprised you were ready to go so soon.

“I know. I’m sorry! I just know your rules at home and I know I’m probably being a pain in
your butt…” You poke your fingers together. “You can ignore it if you want. I’ll get over it.”
You looked down at the floor albeit a little shamefully.

“Alright, one more time…” He gives you a gentle headpat before leading you into a private
top breeder room. Today was a good day, indeed.
 Sanctuary away from Sancturary
Chapter Summary

You begin your journey to Sshamath with Addanil.

Time to put the monster in monster fucking.

Chapter Notes

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hmRPECd9Yig

A reference for what (you)r flute sounds like.

Addanil was a merchant sponsored by the Possessor Creed. The importation of goods from
other cities was a very profitable venture. The thralls in the farms above were responsible for
producing many mundane goods, but lizardfolk had a limit to the quality of their work, the
human artisans were few and Duergar made things of durable quality but of plain appearance.
Oryndoll sent far fewer merchants outside of its walls than other communities, but The City
of Dark Weavings and its bazaar was a place to get surface goods and lore that they ordinarily
could not procure. It was how Addanil acquired all the supplies of which you painted with.
You were an artistic soul.

You had many artistic talents which thus far had been nourished by your master. When Yorix
owned you before their untimely death at the hands of adventurers, you wrote poems and
sonnets. You taught yourself how to paint. You even began to dabble in the geometric art so
favored by illithids, but you were still learning to imprint your emotions on the canvas. For
now, Addanil sold your other works to “The Thrall Races”.

Secretly, you were also a bard. Your magic songs served him well and now it served Addanil
on his journeys in the underdark. As far as anyone else knew, you simply knew how to play
an instrument. Your instrument and arcane focus was an end-blown flute carved from
zurkhwood. It was tuned to the minor pentatonic scale. It has an expressive and breathy
timbre. The sound was quietly evocative which your master found to be highly meditative.
This time you got to join your master on one of these business trips instead of being left
home to care for the domicile. The last trip he took left you anxious, wondering if he’d come
back. You knew these journeys were dangerous. To lose Addanil with no way to bring his
brain home kept you up, unable to sleep. Addanil couldn’t bear to make you feel that way
again, even if he never said it out loud.

Addanil’s main business was importing gemstones, jewelry and artistically crafted objects,
but despite handling such expensive items, much of his wealth went into the Posessor Creed’s
vaults. Still, you had a comfortable existence and the two of you were never without. The
return from the trade missions resulted in your and your master heading to the bazaar to sell
your goods. You even helped your master weave eloquent words to help other illithids see the
value of the goods you sell.

You were eagerly packing your things, going over a checklist to make sure you both had
everything. You packed the rations for both yourself and the two quaggoths that would be
pulling your master’s cart. You packed his belongings and your’s, making sure he had
everything you both needed, including your diplomat’s pack. It even came with perfume
made from a surface flower called daffodil. You saw a painting of them once. That yellow
color was marvelous.

Your personal gear was all provided by Addanil. You change out of your “Domicile
Uniform” and into your mercantile gear. You wore leather armor, crafted from the hide of a
hook horror. Its shoulder’s maintained the creature’s intimidating elbow spikes. You had to
admit that lizardfolk did indeed have some creativity.

Your weapons consisted of a light crossbow. You called it “Expressive.” The foregrip and
stock of the weapon, made from polished zurkhwood, was delicately painted by your own
hand with filigrees shaped like tentacles, and covered with a clear coat to protect the look of
your art when you used it. You had a dagger of duergar construction. It was sturdy and plain.
You called it “Dependable”. It looked like it needed that name because it wasn’t pretty like
your other weapons. Your last weapon was a magical drowcraft rapier with an elegant black
handguard which you called “Piercing Elegance.”

Addanil had pondered why you bothered to give names to your weapons. They were mere
objects. It is not as if they could answer to those names. You explained that it was the same
reason that sailors named ships. It was a source of pride. Everything he gifted you was
worthy of being cherished. You took pride in using these weapons on his behalf. He thought
it strange but touching that you cared for his gifts in ways that only you could understand.
For your personal entertainment, you also brought along a pad of parchment and graphite for
drawing. “I would like you to pack one additional thing.” Addanil tells you.

“Yes, Master?” You turned to see him holding your “uniform” and blushed. “Oh my... You
want me to wear that? Outside of the domicile?” You covered your face with your hands.

“If we can get a room at the inn, it will be as good as a home away from home.”

You couldn’t believe how bold he had gotten with his “experiments” but you carefully pack it
away anyway.

You unfortunately had to go through the troglodyte tunnels above to leave the city and take
the caverns and tunnels to Sshamath. You had a rather creative and unorthodox solution to the
problem. You would take his tentacle and hold it against your nose in order to drown out the
smell. He himself had no way of knowing how unpleasant the creatures were until you
showed him through your own senses. He allowed you to hold onto him for your own
comfort, even if it looked rather odd. It was admittedly endearing to him.

In the quaggoth drawn cart, Addanil pulls you close to him. You smile softly, feeling secure
and comforted in his embrace. “Would you like your mind to go somewhere else for a
while?” He asks.

“Yes, please.” You nodded as you leaned against him. Focusing his psionics, he created a
microcosm for you. You knew nothing he made was real, but you were happy to explore the
paintings of your mind. To you, your mind became a space where you and he could create a
paradise.

You close your eyes and when you open them, you are in a forest glade, haphazardly dotted
and filled with yellow daffodils. There was sunlight and warmth. You couldn’t really
remember what clouds looked like, but you know the sky was the most vibrant shade of blue
you’d ever seen. The colors of your mind were like a mental painting. You could shift and
weave them to anything you desired in your thoughts. You kneel before the daffodils in the
glade, gently plucking some from the grass, cool to your touch beneath you. You weave the
stems and flowers into a ring, and Addanil is curiously watching you in your fantasies.

You turn to your master and place the crown of daffodils upon his head. “What’s this?” He
asked, amused by your behavior.

“A crown for the king.” You replied. He was your muse and master. He was the emperor of
the realm you made together in your mind. You would be his minstrel and his knight, forever.
You lean in to kiss him. You close your eyes when you open them, you find yourself staring
face to face with Addanil. The smell of Troglodyte is gone completely. There is only Addanil
as he gently holds your head to face him, and in the dark you plant a loving kiss just above
his mouth and between his tentacles.

“You are… Beautiful.” He tells you. He was blushing, his cheeks becoming pale against his
mauve complexion. You looked at him with a tender smile and rosy cheeks.

“As are you, my masterful muse.” You tell him.

Addanil had never been so touched to be described that way. “This emotion is fascinating. It
is exhilarating and warm… Yet, if I were to put a name to it, I find that it eludes me. Do you
know what it is?”

It felt familiar but you could not remember that word. It was on the tip of your tongue. Why
couldn’t you remember it? As if sensing your frustration at being unable to recall what this
emotion was called, Addanil gently patted your head with his tentacle. “It is alright. Perhaps
in time it will come to you. Until then, we can simply call this… Our bond.”

Those words made your heart flutter. Knowing you had a special bond with your master.
Traveling until the quaggoths couldn’t carry your cart any further for the day, your master
helps you down from the cart. You set up your sleeping rolls and your bags in a decently
level area and in the center of your camp, you took a minute to cast Tiny Hut. The dome of
immovable force surrounds you and Addanil. Despite the name of the spell, it was quite
large, with a roof that was 10’ tall and able to hold nearly a dozen other people. Despite the
abundance of space, the two quaggoths were not allowed in your dome. They had to stay
outside and guard the cart. It was a luxury only you and Addanil got to enjoy. It was a small
sanctuary that prevented the beasts and stupider denizens of the underdark from getting in.
You could sleep without worrying about a monster bothering you or your master. You lit the
dome in a dim yellow light, commanding it to slowly fade in so that your master’s eyes could
adjust.

“It has been some time since I have heard one of your performances. Please play your flute
for me.” Addanil commands of you.

“I would be honored to, Master.” You smile, holding the flute to your lips. You begin to play.
The melody of the flute echoes through the caverns, in a pleasantly mysterious tone. Addanil
was enthralled by the melody. Soft and dim yellow light illuminates your features tenderly,
making you appear serene as you perform the piece for Addanil. Sometimes he would have
you play it for half an hour or longer. You didn’t mind in the slightest. You found it just as
meditative as he did. Since you were outside of your home, you both knew that the longer
you played, the more likely you would be to attract unwanted attention. Thus after just a few
minutes, you stopped playing, carefully putting the flute away in your belongings.

When you turn to move into your bed roll, you find your master sliding it closer to his.
You’ve never slept so close to him before, but with the feeling you got when you were close
together, you couldn’t blame him. You crawl into your bed roll and let out a little yawn as
you cover yourself up. You feel your master’s tentacle lazily wrapping around your arm and
wrist. You were both tired from 10 hours of traveling through the underdark, even if it was
the quaggoths doing most of the work. Being ever alert for danger left you tired. You were
too tired to even attempt one of the many “experiments” you’ve been doing with Addanil, but
this was perhaps not the best place to do it anyway.

There would be plenty of time to get it out of your system when you got to Sshamath. You
close your eyes and slowly drift off after commanding the lights to go dark. You awake a few
hours later to the sound of a scuffle. You couldn’t leave the tiny hut, because the spell would
end the instant you did. Not unless he was in trouble were you to leave your tiny hut.
“Master!?” You sit up, looking out of the tiny hut. It was hard to see but you saw his
silhouette dumping a corpse behind some stalagmites.

“Nothing to worry about, my dear thrall. Just a lost orog.” He tells you, having finished
eating the brain of the underdark orc.

“Did they hurt you?” You ask. It was another one of your duties to heal his wounds on these
dangerous outings.

“I did not suffer significant resistance, no.” Addanil reassures you. He returns to the tiny hut.
You sleepily grab for a cloth towel made from the fibers of fungus. He squats beside you as
you command the dome to once again make a dim light. You pour clean water into a bowl
and gently clean the blood from his tentacles. When finished, you toss out the dirty water and
rag. Not a spot nor spec was left as you ensured he looked perfect. You tiredly kiss his
forehead and lay back down, darkening the dome of your tiny hut.

Addanil’s hand reaches for your own, holding it tenderly in the dark. “I don’t know what I
would do without you.” Addanil tells you. Your mind is once again at ease. You hold his hand
close to your chest, cherishing its warmth. “I’ll always be by your side, master. Till the very
end.”
The two of you slowly drift off, finally resting after a long day.
 Thrall Family Planning
Chapter Summary

Vebeva learns about safewords after teasing the absolute shit out of Dallimeze.

Caramyn was on the hunt for a mate. The delusional gnome wanted to start a family with her
illithid “husband”. She’d been to the breeding pen a few times but they did not find a male
thrall they both approved of during their initial trips. She was shrewd in her mating
preferences as gnomes didn’t get many chances to mate. That’s when she remembered him.
The handsome human man with the platinum collar. She had to have that one. The two of
them had business dealings recently with Vebeva. The interaction seemed positive. Surely
they could get a rapport going.

She was folding laundry, with a small pout on her face. “Honey, don’t look so sad! They had
another gnome there!” Dallimeze tried to cheer her up. He was drinking a nice glass of
cerebrospinal fluid.

“That was a forest gnome and that was a female. You’re not ‘testing merchandise’ again!”
Caramyn snapped.

“Uh… Right. I understand you want the best, but we can’t afford to be too picky if you don’t
want to wait another decade… What about one of Erux’s goblins?” He jokes. The joke
earned him a bar of soap tossed at his head, which went wide and missed him. “Sorry! Sorry!
That was a poor joke…”

Nothing the gnome threw had ever actually hit him. She was purposeful in making sure of
that.

Caramyn sighed. “I know what I want, Dalli.” She tells him. “We just have to figure out how
to get it. That human with the platinum collar we saw. I want that one! He’s perfect!” She
tells him. Dallimeze does a spit take, choking on his drink.

“Honey! That’s a noble’s thrall! We can’t- Oh no no no, we’re not good en- What I mean to
say is that- Caramyn, please! We can’t!” He couldn’t even process his thoughts properly.
“Why not? The worst she can say is no. She can’t be all that bad. Zusrall exchanged
correspondences with her.” She tells him. Caramyn had seen their thralls exchanging notes on
a prior shopping trip. She freely went to the markets for her husband while he worked and all
she had to do when questioned by a vigileater was show the brand on her wrist. When
touched by a tentacle, the raised bumps showed the rock gnome's status as a thrall and who
she belonged to. They always sent her on her way when she said she was buying something
for their home for "her Dearest Dalli."

"But…" He knew when Caramyn was set on wanting something, she was stubborn as a
dwarf. She'd pushed him to the point of needing to shift her mind away from an undesirable
end before. It was a dangerous and exciting game to see how far she could control him.

"Dalli. Sweetie…" She moved over to him, gesturing that she wanted him to pick her up.
Dallimeze picks up the gnome, holding her in his arms. “You said you’d do anything for me.
I know you’re not forgetful.” She grabs one of his tentacles and firmly squeezes it in her tiny
hands. Dallimeze lets out a whimper. He was starting to blush. The flesh was soft, supple,
moist and rubbery in her fingers. She enjoyed the tactile sensation combined with his
whimpers as she handled his tentacle like a stress ball.

“You remember that promise, don’t you?” She pushes him. She felt more comfortable than
ever, now that they had a safe word in place. It was ‘Fire’.

“Honey, I’m… Nervous!” He tells her. “Ulitharids are scary to me! She’s way out of my le-”
Mid sentence, Caramyn took a tentacle into her mouth, and bit down hard enough to leave the
indents of her teeth upon the flesh, but nothing that would leave permanent marks or break
the skin. The sensation made Dallimeze cry out. He actually moaned from it.

“Aaagh! Yes! I remember! I remember! Of course I do!” He whimpered with a gooey voice.

“That’s right. You’re the only one here who can write in qualith, so I need you to be a good
husband and help your wife. You’re the one who wanted me to have the most beautiful
babies.” She reminded him. “So unless you’ve found a way to put little squids in me without
sticking a tadpole in my skull, you’re going to help me.” She demanded. Dallimeze was left
catching his breath from her aggressive demands.

“Yes, honey…” He carries Caramyn to their table, where the rock gnome manages the home’s
finances and Dallimeze tucked away his qualith tablets. He pulls out a blank one and his
striator and stares for a moment. “This is embarrassing but I’m not even sure where to
start…” Dallimeze tells her. Their interactions left his head clouded. Caramyn would have
marched herself straight to Vebeva’s domicile, but she knew that interacting with a noble
simply wasn’t done that way. Even if one were to request entry, the personal thrall is the
middle man between the visitors and the ulitharid. The only exceptions to this were members
of the Elder Concord, creed-masters, other ulitharids and other high offices in the community.
The written request was to ensure nothing was lost in translation between the two parties.

Caramyn climbs into his lap and sits with him. “Just be simple and respectful. I know your
brain gets all dumb when I’m teasing you, but I know you can do it.” She tells him. “Hmm…
Try this.” She mentally tells him what to say.

“Most Magnificent Vebeva, I would like to negotiate breeding my thrall Caramyn with your
eloquent prize thrall, Whim. For your consideration, please accept this artfully crafted
candle set created by Caramyn as a gift. -Dallimeze of the Abysmal Creed"

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" Caramyn pats his thigh before sliding out of his lap to
pick a candle she thinks Vebeva would like. "This one's a safe bet, yes?" Caramyn looks to
Dallimeze for his opinion.

"Your candle making skills are impeccable." Dallimeze compliments her. They were three
jewel toned dodecahedrons in the colors of jade, amethyst and quartz. Caramyn knew she
was an ulitharid of elegant taste. He looks at her other candles. There was a skull shaped
candle with a wax brain. When lit, the pink wax would melt through the eye sockets. His
fellow Abysmal Creed illithids loved those. She had some fat cylindrical crimson ones she
made recently.

"Those are for us to play with later." She grins at him.

"Oh my… Caramyn, you're quite creative, indeed…" His tentacles writhe in arousal at the
thought of hot wax on his skin while she kept him restrained in one of her bondage
contraptions. She was so wonderfully horrible to him. He felt himself slipping into
infatuation, before snapping out of it. He clears his throat, trying to get his mind together.

"Right then. Let us deliver this… Together." Dallimeze was trying so hard to be brave for
Caramyn. He couldn’t look like a wuss in front of Vebeva. His heart was racing as he
attempted to gather his thoughts. They made the journey to The Workshops. As they walk,
Caramyn tugs at his robes to tell him something mentally.

“You’re alright, Dalli. Just get into your work mindset. This is just another job. You can use
our safe word if you get scared along the way and we’ll go home. I won’t hate you for it. I’m
right here with you.” Her mental voice was tender and loving. Dallimeze feels himself relax a
little bit. His expression becomes more stoic. When he was doing his job as a local torturer to
get information out of captured humanoids, he presented himself as cold and merciless to his
victims. When no one was privy to his thoughts, he liked to fantasize about Caramyn by his
side, assisting him. If he were to bring Caramyn to work, they would know the truth about
him. They would know that he was a pathetic imposter and the gnome was his muse and
mastermind behind half of his work.

His hand shakes a bit before he knocks on the door to Vebeva’s large domicile. The
handsome thrall butler, Whim, answers the door mere moments later. “We would like to
request an audience with Vebeva.” Dallimeze says emotionlessly, handing him the wrapped
qualith tablet and gift. He could do this. He’s talked to her before. He had pride when selling
his wife’s crafts to Vebeva. He could do this! He mentally psyches himself up.

“Hold please!” Whim requests cheerfully, leaving them at the door after closing it softly. He
returns to Vebeva in her laboratory. Natiri was assisting her, but Vebeva found the tiefling
incompetent at scientific method. That damnable tail! She wanted to cut it off for the rate at
which it knocked things over!

“I’m sorry!” Natiri whined, her tail wrapped around her leg. She expected a spanking, a slap,
any expression of rage! It never came.Vebeva took a deep breath, offering not so much as a
harsh word or an insult.

“Please just go to your room for a while.” The ulitharid says calmly. Natiri was genuinely
trying this time. She sulks off to her room and sobs into her pillow. Vebeva sighed. “Stop
crying. There is no logical reason for you to cry. You know that sound is upsetting to Whim.
Take a break and we’ll try again later.” The ulitharid made a somewhat awkward attempt at
calming the tiefling down. Zusrall was correct. This was really difficult. Natiri wipes her
tears, trying to stop herself from crying.

Vebeva looks at Whim, who had frowned at Natiri’s cries. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.
It’s alright. What do you need, my dearest thrall?” She speaks to him reassuringly.
Whim snaps himself out of his feelings. He hated hearing people crying. It was the one
empathetic response he retained even after becoming a thrall.

“You have guests at the door, mistress. It’s Dallimeze and Caramyn.” He hands Vebeva their
message. She carefully unwraps it. What could they possibly want? She rubs a tentacle over
the tablet. Her eyes widened and she snickered. It was one of many, many, breeding requests
for Whim.

“Oh, what a lovely gift! You’re quite popular, Whim. It seems you’ve caught the gnome’s
attention. What do you say?” Whim almost automatically rejected any thrall that wasn’t a
fellow platinum thrall, but truthfully the gnome was rather cute. He did like her, even if he
couldn’t place his finger on why. Whim found himself quite attracted to dominant
personalities. Even Caramyn’s attempt at pretending to be a mere thrall couldn’t wholly
escape his notice.

“I think we could humor them if you wish. I must first assure Natiri’s wailing does not
destroy the mood of the negotiations.” He agrees. “Shall I let them in and leave you to
discuss the terms?” He asks.

“Hmm… Yes, you may allow them entry.” She tells Whim, and she elegantly sets herself up
in the sitting room. She crosses her legs in her favorite chair as if it were a throne. She was
wearing leather heeled boots. They give her an air of authority and grace. She poses herself
dramatically, holding a chalice in her hand. Whim returns to the door, allowing a nervous
Dallimeze and patient Caramyn into their home. “May I take your cloak, honored guest?”
Whim offers. He hangs it up on the rack in the entryway when Dallimeze hands it to him. He
then sneaks into their bedroom to quietly comfort Natiri. Dallimeze and Caramyn enter the
sitting room.

“Welcome to my domicile, peons!” Vebeva greeted. Dallimeze felt a familiar tingle at the
sight. Being called a peon didn't help. He pushes the feeling back. This was Caramyn's
moment. This wasn't about him. Caramyn bows to her as if she were royalty.

"Thank you for granting us an audience with your gracious presence." The gnome humbly
greeted her.

"Yes, it is most generous of you. I apologize for the sudden request, I'm sure you get
inundated." He tells her. Vebeva's tentacles wriggle in amusement at his deference.
"Oh ho ho ho! How right you are! I'm honestly surprised however. Gnomes are so famously
difficult to breed. She's a fine specimen, but you're no Nourisher. Why go through the
trouble?" She asked him. Caramyn smiled and covered her blushing cheeks at being called a
fine specimen.

"You're too kind! Hehe…" Caramyn takes it in stride.

"She was expressing a strong desire to breed. Why wouldn't I encourage such a delicious
rarity to birth fine thralls?" Dallimeze answers competently. Vebeva decides to poke some
fun at him.

"Oh? Your thrall says jump and you ask how high?" She joked. The joke caught him off
guard.

"Of course not! I don't appreciate such jokes. She may indulge this desire because I allow her
to." He feels his face get hot and his heart race as he gets defensive. Caramyn reaches up to
grab his hand and keep him grounded.

Vebeva laughs louder. "None of you peons know how to take a joke. It's hilarious, watching
you get all pale. Your heart feels like it could burst from its chest." She teased him further.
“You Abysmal cretins aren’t immune to embarrassment?”

He wanted to crawl into a hole. She made him feel small. Smaller than Caramyn. Caramyn
squeezed his hand, begging him mentally to hold it together! He shuts her out. Vebeva
catches onto this quickly. It was at this point that Whim enters the room and quietly stands by
his mistress.

“I am unable to process your sense of humor.” He tells her.

“Of course your comparatively smaller mind wouldn’t get it. It’s only natural. Don’t twist
your tentacles in a knot over it, Dalli.” She teased him with his pet name.

“I would like to politely request that you cease calling me that!” His face becomes paler.

“Oh? Only your thrall is allowed to give you a pet name? Are you her pet?”

“No!!” He vehemently denied. He couldn’t use the safeword. Not here. It was too late! She’d
only make fun of him more! “You just make me nervous! Your high status is like a dagger
over my heart! It terrifies me!” It was the truth, and it was the only way he could think to
save some face.

She saw his deception, but it was a good one. A very good one indeed. She wanted to push
him on it and make him squirm further. This mental tug of war was at an equal standstill.
She’d push him over the edge. She loved toying with these perverts. No one got to have
Whim unless they were worthy. “Oh ho, you disgusting little liar.”

Dallimeze froze. He couldn’t think of a comeback to her accusation. He blew it. He fucking
blew it! “He’s a pig and a liar, but I’m his wife! He’s doing his best for me because he loves
me!” Caramyn snapped. He keels over to the floor, he wished to die! He would surely die and
Caramyn would be eaten before him!

Vebeva’s eyes widened. “Wife??” She was confused. “OHHHHHHH-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-

ho! That is RICH! Oh! Oh my! You truly are pathetic! You were playing house with your
thrall?! That’s what this is about!?” She physically began to wheeze. Whim started to laugh
with her. Dallimeze lets out a gurgled whimper.

“Oh, Mistress, this is gold- Nay, platinum entertainment!” Whim chimed in. After several
moments of uproarious laughter, Vebeva floats over to him. “Mmn. You are a disgusting little
freak, but that’s alright.” She puts her boot over one of his tentacles, delicately pinning it to
the floor. He completely loses it and moans.

“Oh fuck!” He cried out in a gooey voice. Vebeva hadn’t expected that reaction. She quickly
recoils from him in shock. She couldn’t believe it. Such a disgustingly weak illithid needed to
be ejected from the colony immediately and yet…

“Dalli!” Caramyn snapped. “Bad! How dare you get horny! Only I’m supposed to make you
feel that way!” The gnome yanks the offending tentacle up and slaps it hard with both the
palm and the backhand.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Dallimeze cried out. Vebeva and Whim stared at this interaction.
Even Natiri was peeking into the room with an expression of disbelief. Then Vebeva’s
tentacles curled in delighted amusement. It was odd, but seeing Caramyn dominate this
pathetic illithid was extremely funny. There was a hint of arousal at the situation as well.
“Oh… I think I like you.” She tells the gnome.

“Huh?” Caramyn looks up at Vebeva, grasping Dallimeze’s tentacle with a vacant look.

“It’s such a shame that you’re a thrall, Caramyn. In some other hypothetical situation I feel
like we could have been… What’s that silly little word you humanoids use? Friends.” Vebeva
admitted. “Are you certain you wish to settle for birthing thralls? I could give you the gift of
ceremorphosis instead. It wouldn’t be wasted on you, unlike your pathetic spouse.” Vebeva
offered. She truly did like Caramyn. She was a fine thrall. She would make a reasonably fine
member of the colony. Caramyn smiles softly. Her voice becomes gentle.

“Your offer is most generous. Anyone would be lucky to leap at such an opportunity.
Unfortunately, I am unable to accept it. Yes, my husband is pathetic, but I love him very
much. Our bond is very important to me. I want nothing more than to give him a family he
can cherish.” She tells Vebeva with all her heart.

“I love you too, Caramyn! I’m so glad I married you!” Dallimeze cried. If he was going to be
exiled here, he wanted it to be the last thing he ever said to her. Vebeva could tell that the
gnome was absolutely delusional and just as sick as Dallimeze was. It was… Highly
amusing! It was the most entertainment she’d ever had in years! She wasn’t going to let this
drama go to waste!

She could see why Whim liked Caramyn. She was a perfect mate for Whim. She was a lady
who knew what she wanted. “That’s alright, Caramyn. You’re still young. The age range for
ceremorphosis is far more generous for gnomes than it is for most other thrall races. Should
you change your mind in the next 100 years, I am willing to wait. Do not worry about
Dallimeze’s citizenship in this colony. Your husband does not offend me. You clearly have a
very good handle on him. I will warn you however, that you should hold your tongue better if
you wish to be a shield for him in the future.” Vebeva says with a gracious and oddly mature
attitude.

She turns to Dallimeze. “Get off the floor. You’re sliming up my tiles, you peon!” She shoos
him away from the floor with her tentacles. Her voice was surprisingly playful. Dallimeze
was slowly recovering from the dread he had felt as he moved himself away from the floor.
“Natiri, don’t just stand there in the archway. Please clean up the floor.” Natiri figured she
had to have been in a good mood because she even said please!

“Y-yes, mistress!” She gathered cleaning supplies and got to work immediately.
Caramyn was truthfully still worried for Dallimeze.

“Is there smoke or fire?” She asked him.

“Smoke… Actually the entire structure has been razed and there’s nothing but embers left.”
Dallimeze answered, picking her up for comfort.

“What's with that odd phrasing? Why are you speaking in code?” Vebeva asked.

“It’s our safewords.” Caramyn says. “Since Dalli likes me to do things that can hurt and
overwhelm him, it lets him easily tell me his emotional state so I can adjust accordingly. Fire
means we stop. Smoke means we slow down and I can adjust to his needs.” She explained.
“Oh Dalli, I wish you said ‘Fire’ sooner. I’m sorry that I failed to keep you safe… I'm so, so
sorry…” Caramyn nuzzled him lovingly.

Vebeva watched their affectionate display. It reminded her of the bond she had with Whim.
She gently wrapped a tentacle around his waist, and ran her fingers through his hair. This was
fascinating.

“What happens after the safe word is used and you cease the activity?” She asks.

“Aftercare! I cheer Dalli up by giving him some cold water. Any booboos get treated, and
messes are cleaned up. I talk to him and give him lots of hugs and cuddles! He tells me what
he needs and I do it for him until he’s happy again.” Caramyn eagerly explains. Vebeva
pondered this while looking at Natiri, who was cleaning the floor thoroughly. Could her
training of Natiri benefit from that? She had “similar interests” to Dallimeze, after all. She
couldn’t believe she didn’t understand it earlier! Whim’s perfect performance came from his
complete and loyal trust in her. Give and take… She finally understood what Zusrall was
talking about!

“I see… That’s very interesting. Take your… Husband home and perform your ‘aftercare’. If
you still desire to breed with Whim, come to the Breeding Pen tomorrow.” Using telekinesis,
she gives Caramyn her seal of approval for the Noble’s Section. “I’m giving that to your
thrall because you honestly don’t deserve it, Dallimeze. You are merely lucky to have such a
fine and useful thrall. Show it to the guard. They’ll let you in.” She tells them. Dallimeze
blushed and groaned in a ‘You’re going to get me in trouble with the misses!’ kind of way.
“And don’t keep us waiting.”
Whim shows the two to the door, giving them a cordial goodbye. Once the door was shut,
Vebeva turned her attention to Natiri. “The floor is spotless… A perfect job, Natiri.” That
was the first time Vebeva had praised her for anything since she got here! Her eyes watered,
she felt like crying. “Oh… No… I told you not to do that. Why are you doing that?”

“I don’t know, Mistress.” Her heart swelled with anxiety. Things felt different ever since she
spent time with Zusrall. Her mistress was acting strangely. Why wouldn’t she yell at her?
Why didn’t she call her a brat? A demon? Everyone else in her life did. She had nothing left
to fight against. The silence was more deafening than the anger and hate. Vebeva picks the
tiefling up off of the floor, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Pick a safeword. It can be anything as long as you can remember it.”

“Mango!” Natiri blurted out. The delivery of that random word made Vebeva giggle.

“Very well. Whim!”

The human butler snaps to attention.

“When Natiri uses her safeword, you are to provide for her wellbeing. Do you understand
your duty?” She instructed him.

“Yes, Mistress. I do.”

“Very good. Now, Natiri. I want you to actually use it when you need it. Don’t try to tough it
out like that… Pathetic creature that came to visit us.” She was firm in reminding her. Natiri
had toughed it out her entire life. She frantically wiped at her eyes, trying to keep tears from
falling.

“I-I’m not crying. I just have dust in my eyes!” She lied.

“There…? There…?” Vebeva awkwardly patted her with a tentacle .

“M-mango…” She muttered. Vebeva was impressed that she was at least following
directions.

Whim came up behind Natiri and gently ushered her to their room. He wrapped his blanket
around her and hugged her from behind. “Come now, you’re a big girl… Don’t make me
grab life by the horns.” Whim teased, reaching up for her horns and holding onto them.
“C-Come on, Whim… You’re not funny.” She lied, trying to hold in a laugh.

“She’s not pitying you, you know. Everything she does is for a purpose. She knows you’re
strong. You clear her path even better than I can.” Whim says. He was admitting he wasn’t
perfect?! This couldn’t be real.

“Did you just say I do something better than you?? Please pinch me. I must be dreaming…”
She was in disbelief. Whim grabs at her cheek, pinching it between his thumb and index
finger. “Ow!”

“I assure you that you’re perfectly awake.” Whim smirks.

Vebeva was pleased that Whim was performing his new duty so well. “I’m returning to my
laboratory for a while. When you are finished, please continue your duties.” She informed
them from the doorway.

“With pleasure, Mistress.” Whim gives her a charming little salute.

“Yes, Mistress.” Natiri hugged the blanket tight to herself.

At only 25 years old, Vebeva realized that she still had much to learn. She would have taken
that goblin farm internship, had she not thought she was too good for it. The second best time
to learn such lessons was now.
 Pet Projects
Chapter Summary

We get a look into Ellimol's exploits.

TW: Minor body horror involving eyes, non-consensual voyeurism

Chapter Notes

I don't know why this squid has a German accent. They just do.
Also this particular nimblewright was based on the way cooler 3.5e statblock. Much
appreciation for Waterdeep: Dragon Heist for introducing them to me though.

Ellimol was an unusual illithid. They actually had membership within two creeds, Nourisher
and Creative. The purpose of such rare members of the community was to bridge the gap
between creeds. The duties were doubled for them as they were expected to complete projects
for both creeds. The Creative Creed was among one of the more demanding in the colony.
For those that could work under pressure, the payoff was just as good. The purpose of
illithids like him was to bridge gaps between colonies, ensuring collaborative efforts that
ended in unique solutions. The Creative Creed saw the most collaboration while the Abysmal
Creed saw the least.

Ellimol’s recent pet projects involved the use of a recently captured half goblin woman. The
tomboyish spitfire, Keegan, was the child of a goblin woman who didn’t want her and an
eccentric human Gondian man who taught her everything she knew about invention and the
application of arcane skills to objects. She had a Nimblewright named Run Like The Wind,
or Wind for short. The construct was gifted to her by her father. The construct’s rebellious
mind was just barely kept in check by threats. Wind’s mind was searching for an exit they
could safely take with Keegan, but most frustrating of all was that she didn’t want to leave!

Keegan wasn’t a thrall but between the domination and the experimental aphrodisiacs, she
was in a state of near total compliance for now. There was something highly erotic about the
illithid to her. They awakened fetishes she didn’t even know she had. Regardless, Ellimol
didn’t plan to keep her for too much longer. She was slowly stirring from her slumber for
their last experiment.
“Egar! Secure zem!” Ellimol tells his creepy nothic thrall.

“Yes, Master.” The nothic replies with a hissing gargled voice.

Keegan’s eyes opened and she tried to move. She realized she was strapped to his surgical
table. She couldn’t move! This was it! He was going to eat her!

“Oh gee. Oh fuck…” Keegan started to panic. Run Like The Wind was nowhere to be seen,
being kept in a holding cell for more dangerous test subjects. They were certainly persistent
and Ellimol didn’t want the “insolent thing” attacking him during this “procedure.” Keegan’s
steel defender, which had not been rebuilt since her capture, was enough trouble on its own.

“Oh no no, mein vulgar test subject. Delicious as zat vould be, our final round of testing does
not include making a meal of you.” Ellimol laughed. Strange surgical tools she couldn’t
describe were on a tray, being diligently held by the nothic lab assistant. “One final test, and
zen you get to go home. Provided zat you sit shtill and be good, ya?”

“Y-yeah, sure! Do what you need to do, El!” She smiled nervously.

“Good. Zat’s a good girl. Zis shouldn’t hurt a bit.” Ellimol reassures her. Keegan couldn’t
explain why but that accent did things to her. He turns to Egar and privately tells him “Zis
might hurt a bit.”

Ellimol used Keegan for two different projects. The first was for the aphrodisiac for the
Nourisher Creed’s thrall breeding projects, of which it was profoundly successful. The creed-
master himself, A Breeder Named Slisskbax, had personally praised him for it. The final
project they had was with Vebeva’s discovery of liquid crystals. Within the illithid’s study,
they had set up a single rectangular screen mounted securely to the wall in front of their desk.
It was constructed of two sealed panes of quartz, psionic circuitry, and copper wires. All of
the parts were housed within a sleek zurkhwood cabinet. It took many months to construct
this device, as creating psionic circuitry was a difficult task. This was a complex seal, made
to connect with another creature’s senses and display it on the screen. It took Ellimol eight
months of working with Vebeva in her laboratory.

They didn’t particularly care for her personal thralls, and the recent indulgence of Whim’s
obsessions was gross, but the young ulitharid showed promise and Ellimol respected her
dedication to perfection. “Uck… Vat is wrong wiz zee young ones zese days?” They would
think to themselves when Vebeva cuddled up to Whim. Regardless, Ellimol would soon get a
break from her with this. “Egar! Vatch zee screen und tell me ven an image appears!”
“Yes, Master!” The nothic nimbly crawls into the study, looking up at the screen with one
large and unblinking eye. Ellimol pulls some thick leather and moisture wicking gloves onto
their four fingered hands. They did not enjoy touching thralls unless they were eating them.
Even then, the germaphobic illithid thoroughly washed their hands and tentacles after a meal
with mild soap and water.

“Now zen, let us begin to practice science !” Ellimol patted Keegan’s head with a gloved
hand, ruffling her short black hair. The touch further put her at ease. The things she would let
this squid faced mad scientist do to her…

“Vat is zee obsession wiz mein tentacles? I’m not shticking zem anywhere near your genitals.
It’s filzy in zere!” Ellimol dismisses her fantasies quickly. “Thrall races… Ha ha ha .” They
shake their head, expressing how silly they thought Keegan was to their personal thrall.
Keegan blushed at being rejected again. They placed a device on the half goblin’s face that
held her eyelids open.

“Should I be awake for this, El?” Keegan asked.

“Vell, no. Probably not, but since you are, can you turn your head zis vay?” The illithid
drops a few drops of a special eye drop formula into her eyes which numbed them. They
didn’t need her squirming around too much. They then get to work with the strange devices,
which would implant an unseen psionic link to the screen. There was a slight burning
sensation.

“I-I thought you said this wouldn’t hurt…” Her eyes watered a bit.

“I said zat it shouldn’t hurt, not zat it vouldn’t. Don’t be such a baby… You’re a big girl, ya?”
They delicately work with their tentacles as they reassuringly pet the half goblin woman. If
this worked, it would be foolproof! No cleric would be unable to undo what they did. The
only way to remove this connection was psionic surgery, or to destroy the screen connected
to it.

“Master! It’s working! It’s working!” Egar announces. He jumps up and down in place like a
chimpanzee with excitement.

“Is zee image clear!?” Ellimol asks. Their tentacles wiggle with glee that their experiment
was finally coming to fruition.

“Yes, Master!” Egar hisses in a pleased tone.

Ellimol begins to laugh maniacally. Keegan joins in with worried laughter of her own.
Ellimol had to see this. They eagerly glide into their study and look upon the screen. The
image quality flickered slightly. The colors were muted, only being half as saturated as what
Keegan’s eyes truly saw but color could still be clearly discerned. “Zat looks good. A bit dull
but it vill do.” They were pleased with the results as they saw Keegan looking at them and
Egar through the archway of the door on the screen. She would be the perfect observer of the
surface world on their behalf, and it required no effort on her part.

“Zat vans’t so bad, vas it?” They return to the room they kept Keegan. “Now zen… How
about we conduct your favorite experiment one last time? Vee deserve it after zee progress
vee have made here.” Ellimol actually greatly enjoyed observing the thoughts of pleasured
thralls, even if they didn’t want to touch them directly. Keegan so far has been their favorite.
The effect that construct had on Keegan was an incredible source of dopamine, endorphins
and oxytocin. All three of those chemicals were something that underdark denizens often
lacked. The only other source of these chemicals were, of course, from eating brains.

Ellimol retrieves an applicator syringe from their surgical tools, filled with that experimental
and sweet pink jelly. Keegan opens her mouth, wrapping her lips around the rounded tip of
the applicator. Her consensual enthusiasm was silently apparent as the jelly filled her mouth
and she swallowed it all. “Egar! Release her and go retrieve zee construct!” Ellimol
commanded.

“Yes, Master! It wants to play again… Ehehe…” Egar found the situation amusing, but he
wasn’t sticking around to watch. Once the aberrant cretin’s tasks were complete, he would
retreat into his room, staying until the “experiment” was complete.

The illithid scientist admitted to themselves that they would miss Keegan. Their next pet
project would be to make a simulated replica of Run Like The Wind’s abilities and get in
contact with The Breeding Pen’s employees. Ellimol would then try to leverage their
invention for a good and cheap price in exchange for access into the back rooms.

Wind wanted to stab the nothic’s eye out upon being released from their confines, but they
had been disarmed. That did not stop him from attempting to slug the cowardly creature with
their fist. They were easily distracted by Egar’s insistence that Keegan was fine and pointed
out the room she was in while dodging and cowering. Wind’s rapiers were mounted on the
wall by the door as if they were trophies. The furious construct stared at Ellimol with a
metallic mustached face that stayed in a static and stoic expression. Keegan was indeed fine
and unharmed as she stood next to the surgical table
“Hey, uh, Wind…” Keegan was blushing. “Could we do ‘sex’…? Again? Please?” She
sheepishly begged. Run Like The Wind slaps their palm against their face, making a dull
metallic tapping sound.

“This is the third time you have initiated this activity within a 24 hour period! We are
currently in an unsafe location. Are you certain you wish to proceed?” He asked. Wind and
Keegan had done this many times before their capture. It wasn’t anything new. With no
nerves like a flesh and blood creature, or psionics like an illithid, the construct did not get
physical satisfaction from it, but in most circumstances they did get an emotional satisfaction
from making Keegan smile.

“C’mon, Wind! I neeeed it! Please??” Keegan insisted, clasping her hands together in an
apologetic and pleading manner. Run Like The Wind could not say no to that face. The water
elemental inside them ran through them like a rushing stream. It was to them as a rapid heart
rate to a living creature.

“Very well, with the caveat that I will not honor further requests for this activity until we are
in a safe location.” Wind tells her in a posh and somewhat metallic accent.

“Ooh, zis better be good.” Ellimol gets themself seated in a chair which was bolted to the
floor in the corner. The first time they did this, they lost control of their levitation’s elevation
and crashed to the floor on their butt with a thud. They would joke that the sensation really
elevated their mood.

Wind prepares himself, “Assuming the position” by pulling off his tunic and tabard. The
construct secures a leather harness, with a shaft of fine polished quartz in the center. This was
a “new addition”. Ellimol purchased this little piece of controversial contraband from
Addanil for a good and cheap deal. They were initially put off when Addanil admitted it was
“lightly used” but the merchant insisted that it had been thoroughly sanitized. Just to be sure,
Ellimol had treated it once more with several alchemical disinfectants when they brought it
home. They weren’t going to keep it for the next thrall or guinea pig.

Normally the nimblewright simply used their hands to pleasure Keegan. It had gotten to the
point where she told Wind that her own hands just couldn’t cut it anymore, and it became a
regular activity between them ever since. It took some practice, but Wind quickly got the
hang of this “new tool”. He couldn’t feel it physically, but the intent behind every hug, kiss
and cuddle was enough for them. They loved the attention they got every time the 4 '4'’ half-
goblin woman had them bend down to get cleaned up. Keegan effortlessly and eagerly pulls
off her clothes. She didn’t mind that this weird scientist wanted to watch in the slightest. The
nimblewright picks her up and places her on the surgical table. Her legs hang off the edge.
Keegan brings her knees up and holds her legs in place for her partner. She’s biting her lower
lip in anticipation.

Ellimol began to relax in the chair. They eagerly watched Keegan lose herself to lust. They
would also miss that nimblewright. Wind’s golden luster was beautiful. If they could own
something like that, they would have taken it instantly, but the brave construct resisted every
effort of the illithid’s domination thus far. Such a rebellious thrall would be dangerous. They
would have to figure out how to make their own. Ellimol was a very patient illithid.
Observing the world through Keegan’s eyes would allow them to learn their secrets in due
time. This was of course assuming that Keegan and Run Like The Wind made it to the
surface in one piece. To help ensure their survival, a psionic seal that granted immunity to
non-magical fire was placed upon the construct’s back.

Wind uses his hand to get her ready for him. He skillfully rubs at her clitoris with his hand.
Keegan kept his hands in excellent condition at all times, assuring that he was able to
perform in top condition. She closes her eyes, moaning softly. It wasn’t taking much to work
her up at all.

Ellimol purred pleasurably. “Oh ya, zat’s it… I vant to feel you command ze raw power of
metal und masterful sculpting.” They got more invested into the half goblin’s thoughts,
beginning to talk dirty to Keegan.

“More…” Keegan tells Run Like The Wind. The construct slowly enters the half goblin
woman carefully with the harness’ rod to the best of his ability. Their movements were a bit
jerky and remained slightly unpracticed. Her body shook irregularly, making her gasp with
surprise until she adjusted to the feeling.

Ellimol moaned as well, gripping their chair in an attempt to stay grounded. It was the most
euphoric they’d ever felt in quite some time. Perhaps it was the aphrodisiac working on their
test subject. No, they knew what it was. It was all the months of stress working under
Vebeva. Ellimol would soon have relief from it all. They were victorious, and now they
would enjoy themself.

Wind noticed that every time he did this to Keegan, their illithid captor would be stunned for
several moments. They forgot to lock the door! That would be their chance to escape! Little
did Run Like The Wind know, Ellimol had wanted them to escape. They even notified a few
vigileaters to “chase” them for a convincing show. Not that they would ever be able to catch
up to the nimblewright.

Ellimol admired the glorious speed that the golden construct displayed, even when a rapier
was pointed at their neck in the blink of an eye. Egar’s surprisingly fast thinking and insight
helped the illithid learn that they could stun the construct with the lit end of a torch just in
time. Now for one last time, Ellimol would admire the raw speed and power of such a
gorgeous construct.

“Oh yes! Fuck yes, Wind!” Keegan moaned. She wraps her legs around her metallic partner.
She was completely soaked and needy. “Hard! Pound me! M-make me scream!” She begged.
As much as Wind wanted to escape, Keegan’s safety came first in all circumstances.

“This is not an advisable course of action. Do you still wish to proceed?” Run Like The Wind
checks in with her to confirm.

“Yes, yes yes yes! Please!” Keegan begged. The construct acknowledged her enthusiastic
begging. Wind’s thrust moved with a speed beyond what many humanoids could achieve at a
sustained rate. Every single thrust shook Keegan’s petite body. She smiles widely, laughing,
gasping and moaning with a strained voice. She was losing control of herself rapidly. Ellimol
squirmed and shivered in their seat. The illithid’s tentacles writhed with arousal. They
couldn’t figure out what to do with them and they couldn’t care less.

“A-agh..! Zis is… Zese results are wunderbar!” Ellimol couldn’t think. They could barely
speak. It was an assault on their willpower and their mind. They loved every second of it.
Wind tuned the illithid out for now. If this was how they had to defeat the monster, then so be
it. They looked down at Keegan intently, waiting for that one sound that would be their cue to
flee. What Keegan called an orgasm. As they were pounding his owner’s needy hole
mercilessly, he wondered, could he also grab her clothing quickly enough? He certainly
could if he had cast Haste on himself. Where would they go once they got out? Wind
supposed they would just have to figure out which way was up. Any moment now…

Keegan’s choked squeals soon gave way to a loud cry which left the illithid curling their toes
and tentacles in a flash of ecstasy before releasing all that pent up frustration and lust. They
slumped in the chair, completely stunned and unable to move. Run Like The Wind had less
than a minute before their captor would come to. They hadn’t even bother to take off the
harness as they casted haste then they bundled her clothes up, and shoved them into the half-
goblin’s arms. He picked up the half-goblin, slinging her over his shoulder. He swung open
the unlocked door, and grabbed his rapiers in his other hand. It was in the moment that the
construct’s new nickname would become Run Like Hell as they bolted out of the door. The
protrusion from the harness on his hips jiggled rigidly as he ran. For some reason they
couldn’t explain, the knowledge of an exit was in his mind, temporarily placed there by
Ellimol with a post-hypnotic suggestion that he would eventually forget.

“Oh nooo, zey are getting away. Shtop zem…” Ellimol told the conveniently placed
vigileaters with a sarcastic tone and winked at them. They made a feigned attempt at chasing
down the escapees, but it really wasn’t a fair competition in the first place. He was leagues
ahead of them. Illithids and non-illithid visitors, who were mostly involved in an illicit brain
trade, to the city found themselves trying not to get run over by the speeding 500 lbs of metal
and masonry. A well hidden tunnel that required climbing straight up was found. With Run
Like the Wind’s sheer speed, he could clear it.

“Hold on to me.” The construct tells their owner.

The naked half goblin grips the construct for dear life and he uses his momentum to jump up
the sides of the tunneled wall. The secret tunnel, normally only usable by illithids, or other
medium creatures that could feather fall or levitate, led straight into a grimlock farm. Any
grimlock stupid enough to fall in became a passively easy meal. It was what the locals called
natural selection.

After getting past grimlocks, only needing to give one a flying kick to the face, they were
home free into the tunnels of the Underdark, never to be seen in Oryndoll again. Ellimol had
seen everything through Keegan’s eyes. They were practically infatuated with the construct’s
agility, speed and power as they watched the screen eagerly.

Once they were sure they were not in immediate danger, Ellimol reported to Vebeva, eager to
share their findings.
 Why Shouldn't I Keep It?
Chapter Summary

Trezzir begins casting spells. The wizards are gayer than ever.

Trezzir and Welvyr remained on the road. They were merely a tenday away from Sshamath.
Welvyr’s magic had already proven quite useful during the journey thus far. That simple little
trick, Prestidigitation, was so versatile. Welvyr was able to use it to clean his master’s robes,
instantly light and snuff out small campfires, and entertain himself with harmless sensory
effects, and more. The possibilities were endless. Welvyr had taken to casting a new spell
called “Unseen Servant”, which allowed Welvyr to complete his menial tasks without ever
actually doing them himself! Imagine what one could do with all that multi-tasking?

The illithid merchant was impressed. He had to get a taste of this power. He opened up the
other spellbook. His tentacles wiggled in frustration when he realized he couldn’t understand
it at all! It was knowledge he didn’t know. Lore he didn’t possess was unacceptable. It was an
even bigger abomination than the spells themselves. “Welvyr!” He called to his drow thrall.

“Yes, Master!” The drow man snaps to attention. “H-how can I assist you?”

“I would like to… Understand this spellbook. Can you teach me how to read it?” Trezzir tells
him.

Welvyr gasps. “Of… Of course! It would be an honor!” He smiled brightly. His master
wanted to understand magic?! It made him so joyful, it brought a tear to his eye. “Please
allow me to take a look. You can tell a lot about a student of the arcane from their
spellbook.”

Trezzir scooted over, sitting next to Welvyr so they could read the book between them. The
book was a discreet thing. It had a mostly unadorned leather cover. Embossed on the lower
right corner were the initials “D.L.”. He noted that his thrall sounded confident, eager and
excited when speaking of magic. He was… Happy. Welvyr initially flips through the pages.
“Ah, this student was a recent enchanter… Rather plain looking book for someone like that.”

“Enchanter?” Trezzir asked.

“Ah, yes. Many wizards specialize in a single school of magic. Spells fall into one of the
following types. Abjuration, Conjuration, Divination, Enchantment, Evocation, Illusions, N-
necromancy, And Transmutation.” He explains, stuttering over Necromancy. “Enchantment
spells allow one to charm and beguile other creatures in various ways.” He noticed a slip of
paper had fallen out of the book and picked it up to read it. It was in Common, which he was
loath to learn but now was glad he had.

“Oh, they even had a wishlist of spells they wished to purchase next… Crown of Madness…
That one brings back memories! You would have loved to see my teacher cast it upon our
more rebellious slaves. The victim of that spell has no choice but to attack their fellow allies
at your command.” Welvyr was smiling at the memory.

“Such power is in the grasp of the thrall races?” He sounded horrified and somewhat
disgusted.

“It could be yours…” Welvyr thought. He realized the illithid had heard that as Trezzir
silently stared at him. He was so embarrassed and horrified to have thought that. He knew
how his master felt about magic yet he thought it anyway. “I-I’m sorry. I… I just thought
that- that…”

As the poor nervous wreck of a drow tried to explain himself, Trezzir gives his thrall’s hand a
gentle squeeze in his efforts to calm him. He didn’t understand it, but it worked quite well
when his anxious thrall was close to having a breakdown.

“Listen to me. You don’t have to look, just listen…” He tells the drow. Welvyr closes his eyes,
trying to slow his breathing so he could listen to his master. “You might have come to a…
Rather tempting conclusion. If you are wrong, it is of no consequence. I would like you to
continue analyzing this book’s contents. I must know what one wielding this would be capable
of.”

Welvyr calms himself, focusing on the task his master gave him. “Ah, yes. Where was I?
Ooh, Prestidigitation. Many great wizards were made from that practice spell. Fire bolt, a
classic evocation…” He was in higher spirits. "Oh, Friends. We called that the 'head start'
spell because you have one minute to start running. The charm works on any creature but
makes them hostile once the duration has run its course. Don't bother with that one unless
you can ensure your escape."
Trezzir listened intently as he went over the cantrips. There were 8 more spells. Charm
Person, Magic Missile, Mage Armor, Shield, Sleep, Hideous Laughter, Floating Disc and Ice
Knife. The illithid realized then that he had his tentacle wrapped around his thrall's forearm
the entire time. He slowly pulls away. "How exactly does one cast a spell?" He distracts
himself from the heat in his cheeks.

"Every spell has components to it. They are Verbal, Somatic and Material. Depending on the
spell, it may require only one component or a combination of all three or anything in
between. You have no means to cast spells with Material components at this time, but I do."
Welvyr begins to explain the basics. Trezzir wondered what he was using to cast spells with
material components and made this curiosity known to the wizard.

"An arcane focus. It replaces the need to fiddle with a component pouch, provided the
component is not too expensive." He lifts up the crystal around his neck by its leather cord. It
was the ugliest sample of smoky quartz Trezzir had ever seen. He thought that rock was
merely a dumb little trinket! "I-if you wanted to try, you can have it." Welvyr blushed, feeling
bad that he hid that from his master.

"Do I need it to cast Prestidigitation?" Trezzir asked.

"No. The components of this spell are verbal and somatic."

"Then keep your ugly secret stone for now. Will I have to use my physical voice?" Trezzir
rejects his offer. He probably needed it more as the thrall was more skilled than him in this
regard.

"Yes… but I promise to only laugh if you cast Hideous Laughter! You won't sound
undignified. Casting is an art of manipulating the unseen force of The Weave. It's quite
similar to your psionics in that way. Imperceptible and malleable." Welvyr assured his master
that he wouldn't look silly.

Trezzir stared at the cantrip in the spellbook intently as Welvyr instructed him on how to cast
it. He'd seen it many times already. He pointed at Welvyr's rations while casting the spell. The
drow curiously took a small nibble to see what his master had done. His eyes widened at the
taste of black truffle to the cheese!

"Master! You're… A savant! Your potential is dizzying! You could surpass me in no time!"
Welvyr smiled widely. True to his word, he didn't laugh. His master learned so quickly! His
heart swelled with pride and joy. This was no mere flattery. He meant every word with
sincere enthusiasm. He’d never seen anyone grasp magic so quickly.

Trezzir's tentacles curled smugly. Of course he could grasp the knowledge with ease! He was
a superior mind after all, but he still had work to do in order to gain true understanding.
"Perhaps we should hold these books until we near our return to Oryndoll. After all, why
not? Why shouldn't I gain more knowledge?" Trezzir moved his goalposts once again.

"I will guide and assist you in any way I can, Master." Welvyr agreed to aid him.

"You are a very capable teacher…" Trezzir's compliment made the drow blush.

"Oh, Master, you embarrass me!" Welvyr covers his face shyly.

"It is true. I would not have been able to learn without you."

"Th-thank you… It's my pleasure." Welvyr forces himself to humbly accept his master's
compliment.

"Should you change your mind about my 'ugly secret stone', I will happily hand it over." He
smiled softly. There was a hint of playfulness in his voice, but he wanted Trezzir to know he
would do his best for him. Trezzir studied the spells. Even if he couldn’t cast some of them,
he was able to familiarize himself with some of them. With Welvyr’s help, he was able to
perfectly visualize how one would cast them.

They went on their way to Sshamath. As they traveled, they came across some narrower 12ft
high tunnels with smaller ones interspersed between them. Welvyr and Trezzir noticed the
bones of a serpentine creature slither out of view into a tunnel. An evil hissing and laughter
taunted them telepathically. “Well, well… Another merchant comes to die!” They came
across the patrols of Nasmi, Terror of the Dark Weavings Tunnels. Nasmi was a bone naga,
and ever since a cave-in destroyed her lair, she stalked these tunnels, terrifying merchants of
all races. Nasmi’s favorite victims were illithids. Their psionics were utterly useless against
the undead, and the fear they felt towards the untamable, brainless beings left the aberrations
trembling and running back to Oryndoll if they were unlucky enough to get caught in her
patrols.

They feared creatures like Nasmi so much, that it was thought by many illithids that undead
beings existed solely to thwart their goals. “Damnable creature…” The illithid whimpered in
a gooey voice. Trezzir trembled. He hid behind Welvyr, tugging at his sleeve to gesture for
them to run. Welvyr stood firm. This would be a true test of his master’s power.
“It’s too late to run. It’s not immune to your magic. Use your spells. I believe in you.” Welvyr
whispered confidently. The water in his waterskin could indeed serve as the component for
the Ice Knife. He could use Fire Bolt or Magic Missile. Welvyr was completely unafraid and
unphased by the bone naga’s threats. He waited for the creature to slither out of a tunnel.

“Sie Confrigo Fulmen!” Welvyr blasted a lightning bolt at Nasmi, displaying a never before
seen bravery in the nervous wreck of a thrall. It just barely grazes the creature’s bones,
crackling over them. Nasmi wasn’t expecting a spell like that. The insolence of the drow
angered her. Her cold eyes glowed with a spectral malice. With a shaky hand, Trezzir pours
some water onto his fingertips from the waterskin and flings a shard of ice at the Bone Naga.

He’d missed his shot! He was shaking too much to aim! That’s when the shard exploded on
the rocks behind her, catching Nasmi in the back bones, further chipping away at her. It
barely seemed to do anything “Inssolent illithid!” Her spectral voice hissed in his mind.
“Two can play that game. Sie Confrigo Fulmen! ”

“Get down!” Welvyr warned. His warning came too late. The lightning bolt blasted through
them both.The drow wizard and Trezzir were wracked with pain, a lightning shaped scar
spread through Welvyr’s chest. He had taken the brunt of the blow for his master, clutching
his chest in pain.

“WELVYR!!” Trezzir screamed for his thrall. He was terrified. He would lose his personal
thrall to an undead. Welvyr only wanted to be good enough. His abominable magic was the
only thing that brought him joy and in trying to impress his master, he feared it would kill
them.

Welvyr knew if they stayed together they would both surely perish. “Split up!” He told him,
running to the left. “Medeis Ballistas!” It was his strongest Magic Missile! The darts pelted
the bone naga, making Nasmi hiss. The sheer force of the darts broke off a few ribs. It clearly
was an effective attack!

Any other illithid in this situation would have left their personal thrall to die. They would run
to their community, and grieve for the lost thrall who bravely defended them so they could
get away. They would live with the trauma of losing their personal thrall to an undead and
never leave the safety of their city walls again. Something different happened in Trezzir’s
mind. It was like a lever was pulled and the fight or flight response was firmly pushed into
fight. Trezzir would not run away. He dashed towards the bone naga, and levitated to reach
their face as they reared up.

In a gooey battle cry, the verbal component was said with clear and desperate purpose.
“Medeis Ballistas!” His outstretched hand flung the magic missiles straight into the undead
creature’s mouth. Nasmi would taunt no one ever again as the force blasted apart her skull
into spectacular shards! The bone naga’s remains topple to the ground. The wizard and his
master apprentice were victorious.

Trezzir looked at the creature’s remains and then down at his hands in disbelief. Had he really
done that? “Well then… That was quite exhilarating, wasn’t it?” Welvyr nervously chuckled.
He was literally quite shocked.

“You…” Trezzir started. He regains his bearings, shaking his head. That lightning bolt really
hurt! “That was stupid!! I would slap you if you weren’t already injured! We could have died!
When I tell you to run, you run!” The illithid scolds his thrall. Trezzir was trembling. His
tentacles became gooey and slimey as he started to cry.

“By all means, g-go ahead.” Welvyr coughs. “I’m just a little charred and scarred. You
deserved better than to die with your back turned, you know… We both wouldn’t have made
it and you know it.” He stumbles over to the remains and picks up some of the bones. “These
bones are in excellent condition, Master. You did well in separating them from their owner.”

“What do you want those for?!” Trezzir was worried he was about to do some necromancy.

“When powdered, they’re a substitution for Protection From Good. The spell could keep you
safe from those that call themselves heroes.”

Trezzir was touched, surprised, and overwhelmed all at once.

“You’re the one who almost died and you’re still thinking about protecting me!” The illithid
sobbed. The adrenaline rush made it impossible for him to contain the intense emotions he
felt.

Welvyr tucks away the bone naga’s bones and approached Trezzir with a small frown. He
takes his master’s hand in his and gives it a reassuring squeeze, just like he would do for him.
“It was through the power and knowledge you gained that you were able to defeat your fears.
You are so intelligent, brave and adaptable. My belief in you was not misplaced.” Welvyr
began to cry silently with Trezzir, the tears gently roll down his dark cheeks.
Welvyr was right. They were both alive. They had prevailed even if the lesson was painful.
He had defeated an undead capable of using horrible and powerful magic! It was thanks to
this abominable power that they had survived. “Let me see your injuries…” Trezzir tells him.
Welvyr sighs. He looks ashamed as he pulls up his tunic to show him the damage to him.
Trezzir cringes as the lightning shaped scar sprawling over his chest. There were several
other scars left from past abuse in Menzoberranzan that Trezzir had never bothered to look at
before. “Welvyr… How can you stand like this!?”

“I’m used to it, I suppose…” Welvyr answers. The answer broke Trezzir’s heart. He was a
thrall and yet even most thralls never put themselves through so much pain willingly. He
offered his arm for the drow to hang onto for support. They still had a little ways to go before
they could safely rest. The two find a secure looking little cave and move to tuck themselves
into it. They’ve been to this cave before on their trips. Welvyr would be a look-out for his
master in past occasions.

“No. You need to rest…” Trezzir tells him. “I have an idea…” He rubs his cloak against the
ground, covering it in dust and dirt. He then hangs it up, nailing it to the low ceiling of this
little hole in the wall with pitons. To anyone glancing at it, it would just look like a mere
indentation in the wall. To anyone foolish enough to investigate it, they would get a face full
of tentacles. Trezzir made sure Welvyr sat on the inside behind the homemade camp. In the
cramped quarters their bedrolls were squished together. The illithid gave Welvyr his own
extra pillows that he had used for his own comfort. Welvyr needed them more right now. A
tentacle wrapped around the drow’s wrist brand reminded him that he owned him. A good
owner took care of their things, right?

Trezzir needed to take care of his thrall. He needed to take care Welvyr. “M-master… I’m
fine. Really. You needn’t sacrifice your luxuries…” He insisted.

“They’re mine. I will do with them what I please…” He tells Welvyr stubbornly.

“A-as you wish, Master… I take it you really don’t want to practice magic anymore.” He
frowned.

That confidence that Welvy had earlier was slowly fading. Trezzir couldn’t explain why, but
when Welvyr was dealing with arcane matters, the eagerness in which he shared his
knowledge made him feel a gentle warmth. It was as if the drow’s zeal was contagious. “I
never said that. I just need you to rest. You were severely injured from that encounter… I need
you, Welvyr. I can’t complete this journey without you.”
Welvyr’s hand holds his tentacle as he sits up on the pillows and bedroll. “You’ll always have
my promise to try…” He whispered, slowly drifting off into his elven trance. He wouldn’t be
able to pull away now. Trezzir knew that Welvyr needed to complete his trance undisturbed
to receive its benefits. He slowly settles into his bedroll, allowing the drow to hold onto his
tentacle for comfort. It was hard to sleep. Trezzir’s mind ruminated on everything that had
happened today. He truly had defeated what he feared most with Welvyr’s help. It was a close
call. One wrong move and another lightning bolt and they both would have been dead.

Together, they would live another day. This horrible force called “The Weave” perplexed him
as much as it had terrified him. He still had another month to learn more. If he was as fast a
learner as Welvyr said he was, surely… He would understand by then… He pulled his
spellbook close with a spare tentacle and stuffed it under his pillow.

Trezzir finally drifted off after three hours of adrenaline fueled pondering.
 Thrall Family Planning Pt. 2
Chapter Summary

Vebeva and Dallimeze take their thralls to The Breeding Pen to meet up.
Is Vebeva's harsh and cruel demeanor beginning to soften?

Dallimeze and Caramyn were preparing to meet with Vebeva once again. The Noble’s
Section was the most exclusive place in The Breeding Pen. Dallimeze had been nervous. He
was trying his best to look presentable for such a prestigious place so as not to embarrass
Caramyn or Vebeva. “Do these robes look… Dignified enough?” He realized he didn’t even
know what looking dignified meant anymore. He had given all of his dignity to Caramyn
over a year ago.

“Here. Let me help you, Dalli.” Caramyn was in high spirits as she helped him get dressed
up. She used a step stool to help him adjust a sash on his waist. "You look so handsome." She
complimented. "Are you nervous?" She asks him.

"No! Not at all!" He tried to lie and put on a brave face. "I'm terrified…" The truth quickly
comes behind it. He couldn't hide his feelings from her. Not after Vebeva's assault upon his
psyche.

"Oh, Dalli. It's fine to be scared. I want you to feel comfortable using your safewords any
time. No matter what, your loving wife will be there for you." She tells him. "The hard part is
over. Now the fun part happens! Hehehe… I got a little surprise for you." She giggled and
stepped down from the stool in front of him. Dallimeze looked down at her curiously.

Caramyn lifted her tunic up over her chest to reveal strappy leather underwear, custom made
for a gnome. She was the spitting image of a tiny dominatrix. He had no jaw to drop, but his
tentacles all went limp in awe. His cheeks turned pale as he stared. "This does make me feel
better…" Dallimeze admitted. His fear turned to eagerness in an instant. The sight of his
beautiful wife in that outfit activated his neurons.
Caramyn smirks at his reaction before pulling her tunic back down. "I knew that would cheer
you up." She tells him. "Now lean down here so I can fix your hat."

Meanwhile at Vebeva's residence…

The ulitharid was in a good mood. Her research was finally bearing results, although she
found Ellimol's obsession with that screen's images to be strange and perverse. She would
need to find out more about their goals, but the way he looked at that construct was off-
putting to the point that she told him to go touch lichen. She needed to pull the plug on his
funding soon. It was getting to be a drain on the vaults.

But today wasn't about that freak. Today was all about Whim. Caramyn wasn't a platinum
thrall but she was exotic and a high quality prize thrall. A Breeder Named Slisskbax would
surely be impressed. Whim had been grooming himself to be as presentable as possible. The
rogue was even able to very carefully shave himself down below. She was admittedly
impressed by his dedication and skill to the task.

She watched Natiri clean the domicile with a feather duster. She wore an apron over a beige
dress. She was doing a thorough job as Whim had taught her. When her wretched tail wasn't
making a mess of things, she had to admit it was rather cute. "Excellent work, Natiri. Since
you've been doing such a good job lately, I hired Zusrall and his thrall to watch over you
while I breed Whim." She informed her now less hated thrall. "Would you like that?" She
asks.

She blushed as her tail started to wag ever so slightly, like a nervous but hopeful dog. "Yes,
Mistress. Thank you." She says softly.

"Good girl." Vebeva tells her. Those words made Natiri's heart race. She couldn't explain
why. "Don't worry. I'll make sure Zusrall treats you like a bad girl." She teased.

"Oh fuck…" Natiri gasps softly. Her reaction made Vebeva chuckle. The tiefling really wasn't
so bad after all… She recently realized that her tiefling thrall had feelings and she had been
hurting them. She wouldn't make Whim upset in her own home by making Natiri cry if she
could avoid it.

"I know we got off on the wrong foot, Natiri, but I do notice your efforts. You are becoming…
Important to us. Keep up the good work." She tells her in the most sincere way the prideful
aberration could muster.
"Th-thank you." She smiles shyly. The praise was nearly too much for her but she accepted
it.

"Whim, darling, are you nearly finished? We'll be late if you take much longer." Vebeva
checks on her favorite thrall. Whim exits the room in the finest garb a thrall could own.
Vebeva was infatuated.

"Is it satisfactory, Mistress?" He asks, and gives her a charming smile.

"Look how cleaned up and perfect you look! So eager to breed for your mistress!" Vebeva
praised, lovingly squishing his cheeks with her hands, and presses the tip of a tentacle to his
lips. "Come along, Natiri. You can finish that later." She encourages the tiefling to join them,
gently ushering her along with her tentacles. Natiri allows herself to be pulled away from her
duties as they shuffle out the door of the domicile.

Vebeva had ended up a bit late, arriving at the same time as Caramyn and Dallimeze to The
Breeding Pen. “Thank you for your patience, Caramyn. Whim wanted to make sure he was
especially presentable for you today.” She tells the gnome. She acknowledges Dallimeze
only to tell him “If you embarrass me in here, it will be the last thing you ever do!”

“I’ll be good! I swear!” Dallimeze tells her. Vebeva found herself highly amused by his
response. Pathetic creature that he was, at least he knew his place. Vebeva turns her attention
to Natiri as she handed her off to Zusrall. His thrall was “working” but he’d be able to keep
Natiri company.

One of her tentacles gives her butt a cheeky slap. “Have fun.” She tells her. Natiri blushes at
that.

“She’ll be in good hands… And tentacles.” Zusrall jokes with her before taking Natiri with
him to the back rooms. Vebeva accompanies Dallimeze and Caramyn past the ettin
ceremorph door guard. A Breeder Named Slisskbax inspects the “goods” that the ulitharid
brought this time.

“Damn! A Breeder Named Slisskbax has seen everything now! An Abysmal Creed flayer with
good taste.” The ulitharid festhall owner comments. Dallimeze felt a little smug at that,
taking the ulitharid's backhanded compliment in stride. Of course he had good taste!
Caramyn was the best gnome in the whole colony! “Are you actually breeding thralls this
time, Vebeva? You know we charge an exorbitant fee ‘for fun’.” A Breeder Named Slisskbax
reminds her.

“Actually, yes. Caramyn is intending to breed with Whim. I’ve already paid extra for the
oyster special. Its effects on gnomes must be documented, after all!” Vebeva confirms.

“Excellent! Second door to the left. Leave your payment at the door, my dear Vebeva. You’ll
get the good and cheap rate.” The festhall’s owner tells her. Vebeva leads Caramyn, Whim
and Dallimeze into the room and closes the door behind her. She seats herself on a luxurious
chaise, settling in. There were foods in here that Caramyn hadn’t seen in such a long time in
her life before a thrall. Dallimeze was impressed by the opulence of it all.

“Is it really okay for me to eat this food, Vebeva?” Caramyn asked. She couldn’t believe a
thrall could eat anything so luxurious. Even her own cooking seemed to pale to this. There
was wine, black truffle rothe cheese, deep oysters in sauce and figs from Amn.

“I paid for it, so don’t waste it.” Vebeva tells her rather bluntly.

“Honey… You deserve this. After everything you’ve done for me, how can you not think you
deserve to be pampered? Won’t you taste it? For me?” Dallimeze encourages her to enjoy
herself, implying he would like to link with her sense of taste.

Caramyn actually didn’t care for the figs, but the oysters and cheese were delicious to her.
Whim didn’t mind at all. It only meant there was more for him. “By the way. This room is
entirely sealed from all intrusion. Dallimeze, if your thrall wife turns you into a pathetic
mess, no one but I will know.” Vebeva teased him. Dallimeze’s cheeks turned completely
white. Vebeva was an enigma to him. Did she enjoy teasing him and working him up?

“Oh… I see… That’s very… Interesting…” Dallimeze responded.

“Oh, please. It’s not like that, you peon. I simply derive amusement from watching Caramyn
take control. It’s so ridiculous!” Vebeva laughed. Dallimeze’s tentacles wriggled at her
teasing.

Despite her denial, The ulitharid enjoyed toying with others beneath her station, even if they
were illithids. She poked holes in the pride of others. She picked at their insecurities with
keen precision. She pushed their nerves because she knew only the best to serve her purposes
would be molded from it, but somewhere deep down in her toxic heart, there was love and
warmth. Only Whim had felt this love before, but unbeknownst to the ulitharid, it was slowly
beginning to spread to everything that Whim touched and cared for.

Dallimeze tells Vebeva this next part privately as their thralls indulged in the fine food.
“Maybe so. I know I’m not joining the Elder Brain in death. I know I’ll probably be exiled or
worse some day. I know our marriage is a lie, but I willingly delude myself. Until then, every
single day I spend with Caramyn is… Exquisite. I don’t want a place in The Great Collective
if my memories with her can not be a part of it.”

Vebeva was shocked at his confession. “You love her… You really love her. You love her in a
very fucked up way, but I suppose I could understand how you came to that conclusion. Don’t
ever say that outside of this room ever again.” To Dallimeze’s surprise, she didn’t reject his
confession. She acknowledged it. He silently agreed to never talk about it again. They had a
mutual understanding that they loved their thralls deeply.

“Why don’t we get them ready to breed?” Vebeva suggests to Dallimeze.

“I think you just want an excuse to put your tentacles all over your thrall.” The illithid teased
the ulitharid. She took his teasing in good spirits. He’d caught her. She couldn’t deny it.

“Well how else will he be properly prepared? I’m sure with the way she squeezes your
tentacles, she’s especially tight.” Vebeva teases back. She floats behind Whim and begins
undressing him.

“Do you want your Mistress to get you ready?” She asks him tenderly. Whim nodded eagerly
as he was chewing the last bite of his food.

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you so much.” He mentally replied his gratitude to avoid talking with
food in his mouth. When he swallows, he gently takes one of her tentacles in his hand. He
plants loving kisses up and down the length of it. Vebeva starts to embrace her favored thrall.
Her tentacles squeeze at his thighs, his waist, and chest. “I do enjoy how smooth you feel
here…” Vebeva compliments his earlier body grooming as she massages his cock and balls.

“Oh, that’s a good idea! Dalli! Come here!” Caramyn commands. Dallimeze moves over to
her eagerly, reading her mind. His tentacles poked together shyly as he took off his robes. He
was nervous to be seen like this in front of Vebeva. Caramyn pulls off her tunic, revealing
her outfit to Whim and Vebeva. She stands on the bed and grabs him by his tentacle roughly,
causing her illithid husband to groan. The pathetic illithid truly lost his shame as Caramyn
took ownership over his tentacles. “You know what I need. Get me nice and wet. Get me
ready for that dick, Dalli.” She grinds herself against his tentacles in a lewd manner before
she pulls him into the large bed with her, Vebeva and Whim.

“Y-yes, honey!” Dallimeze gets on all fours and pulls at her underwear with his tenatacles,
eagerly sliding them against her pussy. He carefully and obediently gets her warmed up to
take her human mate.

“Oh ho ho ho! Are you kneeling before your thrall all the time, Dallimeze? I bet it’s your
favorite place to be, isn’t it, you pathetic peon?” Vebeva teased. She enjoyed watching this
far more than she’d ever admit. Her arousal stemmed from Whim, who loved seeing the
dominant woman take what she wanted.

“I’d be here all day if I could…” Dallimeze admitted, eagerly taking in his wife’s pleasure.

“Mm… Whim, are you enjoying this entertainment?” Vebeva asks her thrall.

“I most certainly am, Mistress. If you like the look of that leather, maybe we could get Natiri
fitted for a nice harness?” Whim makes dirty small talk with the ulitharid.

“I love the way you think. This is why you’re the head thrall.” She praised him. She pushes
the tip of a tentacle into his mouth, and he eagerly sucks on it. Vebeva moans softly, mentally
calling him a good boy. The praise only heightened his pleasure.

Vebeva had a private thought that she kept to herself. “I’d never thought about it before but
we both love our thralls quite deeply… Of course, I’d never look like that pathetic peon and
his gnome, but the connections we have with our thralls are similar…”

“I think she’s ready.” Dallimeze snaps her out of her thoughts and he helps Caramyn pull off
her underwear.

“I need it now!” Caramyn demanded. It was clear the experiment was a success with gnomes
as well. Vebeva slowly pulls her tentacles away. The highly aroused human man was more
ready than ever to breed with Caramyn. He gives Vebeva one last kiss before licking his
slimy lips.

Vebeva positions Whim to lay down on his back. In a kinkier turn, her tentacles pinned his
arms above his head. He was at their mercy and he loved it. “Oh, yes, Mistress! Make me
your breeding boy!” He groans.
“Oh my, today’s dosage was especially effective…” Vebeva blushed. As Caramyn got on top
of Whim, she gently holds the gnome back with her tentacles for a moment. “I would like to
remind you that Whim doesn’t enjoy pain. If you have the urge to hurt something, take it out
on your husband.”

Caramyn nodded eagerly and Dallimeze was faithfully right behind her, wrapping his
tentacles around her tiny body. He’d be right there to take it. “Yes, that’s it. Dalli knows these
are mine, doesn’t he?” She teased. He was intentionally silent. “ Doesn’t he?” She squeezed
tightly.

“Yes, Honey!!” He let out a gooey cry.

“That’s what I thought.” Caramyn smirks. Dallimeze helps her get into position and slides
whim’s cock inside of her. She didn’t have to work all that hard. Her husband helped her keep
a steady rhythm going.

“O-oh fuck! It’s almost as good as you, Mistress! Almost… So tight…” Whim started to
moan and whimper pleasurably. He bucks his hips into the orange haired house thrall,
knowing it was all to please Vebeva. If it were Dallimeze saying that about her, she would
have done far more than slapped him, but she understood that Whim was just so far up his
mistress’ ass, he couldn’t help himself.

“Oh ho ho! That’s quite a high compliment for your partner!” Vebeva laughed. She moans
and whimpers with him, taking in everything. “The sounds you make are so cute…
Remember to make sure you cum deep inside this time.”

Caramyn was taking Whim quite well, and his mistress’ reminder combined with the
aphrodisiacs only sent his mind into a pleasured frenzy. Despite the fact that he was balls
deep inside of the rock gnome, Whim’s thoughts were firmly on his mistress and the pleasure
this activity brought her. Dallimeze and Caramyn found themselves in a similar situation.
Dallimeze held her lovingly as a tentacle teased her clitoris. Whim was merely a means to an
end to them.

“M-make me cum! Make me cum, Dalli! A-ah! Ahh…” Caramyn was close as Dallimeze
intently pushed her over the edge. They cried out pleasurably together. His tentacles lost their
hold on her and he kept her firmly in place with his hands.
Vebeva released Whim's arms, allowing him to grab Caramyn's hips. He would follow his
mistress' instructions to the letter. His eyes squeezed shut as her praise resounded in his mind.
"Good boy. Good boy!" Vebeva encouraged. He groaned pleasurably immediately after the
phrase, releasing everything he had to give inside of Caramyn.

Whim was euphoric, closing his eyes with a big dumb grin on his face. Dallimeze lifted
Caramyn off of Whim to inspect the butler's handiwork. "Is it satisfactory?" Whim asks,
wiping the sweat from his brow. Whim's seed was slowly dripping out of the tight rock
gnome.

"It's perfect. Thank you. Both of you." Dallimeze held his thrall wife close. "I can't wait to
help you pick out baby names, honey. I love you so much… " He tenderly pressed his
forehead against hers.

"Naturally! I'd expect nothing less of Whim." She genuinely thought he was the best thrall in
Oryndoll. Her tentacle catches his dripping seed and pushed it back inside of Caramyn.

"Oh my…" The gnome gasps softly. Dallimeze chuckled at the display.

"We have to make extra sure you get it all, honey." He knew a gnome would need all the help
she could get.

Vebeva wipes her tentacles off on a clean towel that Whim brought to her. He truly thought of
everything! She playfully tosses the towel at Dallimeze. He never saw it coming as it landed
and stuck to his face. He pulls it away from his face. "A lady really shouldn't toss her cum
rags at people…" His cheeks were pale.

"You only qualify as 'people' because of your prize thrall." Vebeva teasingly insulted him.
The insult made him blush harder. They didn't at all deny the implication he was nothing
without Caramyn. Vebeva's tentacles curled smugly before she turned her attention to
Caramyn. "Today was a pleasure. Whim and I will be waiting for Zusrall to finish up with my
other thrall. While this was excellent, it's also expensive. Please take your husband home."

Vebeva was not so subtle in telling them to get out because they were costing her money, but
Caramyn was gracious in response. She pulls on her clothes with a smile on her face. "Dalli,
carry me home. I can't quite walk right." She tells him. Her husband picks her up without
argument, irregardless of whether there was any truth to her claims or not.

After the duo was gone and Whim had cleaned everything up, Vebeva and Whim return to the
Noble Section's lobby to mingle with Ornydoll's upper crust. "Mistress, may I request that
you check in with Natiri? As head thrall, knowing her status is entirely my responsibility,
yes?" He requested.

"Oh yes, I did say that, didn't I?" Vebeva mentally checked in with Natiri. It was well within
the ulitharid's ability to communicate with anyone around her within two miles of herself.

"Fine. Perfect, even. Thank you." Natiri responded. She was currently taking a bath. It was
the first time Vebeva had ever cared to know how she felt. It made her… Happy? For Vebeva,
there was an odd comfort in knowing she was well cared for that the ulitharid couldn't place
her tentacle on. She relays Natiri's condition to Whim, ruffling his hair lovingly.

What Natiri didn't reveal is that Kalamash kept her company and had gone a little overboard.
Vizaness was nervously making sure she was thoroughly cleaned out of fear Vebeva would
strangle the breeder. "Vizaness, I swear… You're lucky Kalamash was sterilized. We'd be dead
if this tiefling had green skinned offspring! How could you lose control of your thrall like
that!?" Zusrall scolded his fellow breeder.

"It's hardly my fault! I had no way of knowing our experimental aphrodisiac would be so
potent on those of orcish heritage! You weren't trying to stop him either!" Vizaness retorts,
her face turning to a paler hue. It felt far too good to even try to stop them. "Everything is
fiiiine! We merely need to make a warning label or something! Besides, it's not like Natiri is
complaining." She points out the tiefling's wagging tail as she's cleaned up by two other drow
thralls.

The two breeders acted as if nothing wild had happened after Natiri was cleaned up and
returned to Vebeva, but Natiri hadn't smiled so much in a long time. Both of Vebeva's thralls
were in high spirits the whole way home.

Meanwhile in an illithid domicile, the smell of ripplebark stew, lovingly cooked by an

illithid's deranged gnome wife, filled the air. "Your cooking is far better than anything in the
Noble's Section, Caramyn." The equally deranged husband complimented his wife.
 Natiri's Play Date
Chapter Summary

What happened while Zusrall and Vizaness were thrall-sitting Natiri?

“Have fun.” Her mistress told her after delivering a playful slap to her rear. Natiri blushes,
the tiefling’s tail wagging slightly beneath her dress. She was a little disappointed that
Zusrall’s thrall wouldn’t be there, but Zusrall himself just seemed to understand her.

“Even though my favored thrall will not be there to keep you company, I was able to get a
good acquaintance and her thrall to join us. I think you’ll like them. My thrall was actually
jealous that you get to spend time with their favorite playmate.” Zusrall hints at what's to
come. Natiri cocked her head to the side curiously. It had to have been really good to make
another thrall jealous!

Once taken into the back room, Vizaness and Kalamash were waiting. Zusrall introduces her
to them. “Oh, she’s adorable!” Vizaness compliments. Kalamash frowned and tugged at his
mistress's robes. “Yes, what is it?” She privately asks him.

“I don’t think I want to play with a devil… She’s scary looking…” He whispered to her.
Vizaness’ eyes widened at Kalamash ever having such prejudice! He seemed so innocent!
“Kalamash, you can’t just call tieflings devils! It’s not only unacceptable for you to refuse
based on race, it’s not even a correct assumption!” She scolded him. Kalamash looked
ashamed at what he just said. His life on the surface had unfortunately given the half-orc
some biases not entirely born out of malice, but of ignorance.

“He won’t participate?” Zusrall was very careful to hide the rejection from Natiri as he
pulled her attention to him. Zusrall teasingly lifts up her dress with a tentacle. She wasn’t
wearing underwear under that dress.

“He will. Please just excuse us for a moment. Why don’t we conduct some more testing of our
new product, hm?” She replied.

“You’re assuming you can arouse him enough to push past his previously held biases? An
interesting theory, Vizaness. By all means, go ahead.” Zusrall allows them to go into the next
room to prepare.

“No underwear?” Zusrall delivers a smack to her buttocks. Natiri yelps. Her tail lifts up
instinctively. He grabs her by the horn and pulls her into his lap on the bed.

“Where’d they go?” She asks.

“They’ll be back soon. I just need to ask… How’s Vebeva treating you?” He had to know if
he had any impact since their training session. Natiri’s face becomes a small pout.

“She’s… Actually been nicer? She doesn’t yell. She doesn’t call me names. She hasn’t pulled
my tail or spanked me. She actually called me a good girl today…” She tells him.

“Why do I sense such uncertainty and anxiety in your mind?” Zusrall asks her.

“Because I don’t know how to handle it. When people are nice to me… It feels wrong! It’s
like I’m a fraud and I don’t deserve it.” Natiri reveals. Behind the bratty exterior was a
tiefling with strong imposter syndrome and self loathing. He turned her over and sat her up in
his lap to make her look at him.

“Do you have a logical reason for feeling that way?” He couldn’t believe such a high value
thrall could hate themselves. Platinum thralls were generally almost as smug as their high
class owners.

“I…” Natiri started to think about it. Zusrall began to probe her thoughts, hoping to guide her
to the conclusion. Natiri somehow understood that he was trying to help her. “I’ve only ever
been good at fighting. Killing, hunting, destroying my enemies. It’s all I was ever good for. If
I can’t look tough for my mistress, then what good am I?” She revealed.

“One who sees failure in everything they do becomes a self fulfilling prophecy, Natiri. You
may be a prize thrall, but you only have as much value as you are willing to give yourself.”
Zusrall tells her. Zusrall strokes his tentacles in thought as Natiri processes his words.
“Perhaps I have something that may aid you…” Zusrall produces something from his pocket.
It was a pendant. An egg shaped gold locket with geometric patterns to be precise. He opens
it up to reveal a tiny resonance stone and he makes her hold onto it.

The little egg shaped piece of agate, half the length of a copper piece, gave her feelings of a
sense of duty. A duty to be a good thrall for her mistress. A duty to please and learn new
skills to aid her. "Whenever you have feelings of worthlessness, hold that and remember your
purpose, Natiri." He instructed. He allows her to process the emotion for only a moment
longer.

"Zusrall, you better get her ready now. I don't think he can wait too long…" Vizaness
mentally warned him. The aphrodisiac must have had a profound effect on Kalamash and he
was admittedly worried. He gently takes the stone from Natiri and puts it back in its locket.

"Now then, it's time to give you what you really came here for. Your punishment." He teased.
He bends Natiri over on the bed. A small smile starts to form on her face.

"I've been a bad thrall…" She bends over eagerly, her tail wags. "Please punish me!" She
begged in a sultry tone.

"A bad thrall who says please and thank you?" He chuckled. "That's funny, but since you
asked so nicely…" He grabbed a flogger he had hidden from her view and she yelped with
surprise when it struck her rear.

"Oh, fuck!!" She was pleasantly surprised by its sting. He began to strike at her backside
while teasing her pussy with two of his tentacles. The other two had a firm grip on her tail.
He had to be careful not to hit his own tentacles by mistake but Natiri's reactions made it all
worth it. Whim seemed well endowed enough when he last saw that smug bastard. He hoped
Natiri wouldn't have too much trouble with Kalamash.

Natiri felt more free than ever to enjoy herself and she wasn't judged for it. She eagerly gives
into it all. The freedom to feel pain and pleasure. "Thank you, sir! May I have another?" She
requests more punishment, to which Zusrall indulged her.

As Zusrall worked her up, Vizaness returned with the half orc. She kept him barely under
control as she stroked his raging hard erection with a tentacle.

Kalamash whimpered in a needy manner. "Are you ready for Kalamash?" Zusrall asks, ready
to use physical discipline on the half-orc should Vizaness prove unable to control him. He
really didn't seem sure about this. He could tell how pent up the half-orc was. The thought of
him roughing her up was exciting to Natiri. "He's more gentle than he looks… I hope. It's not
in his nature to hurt others… Not on purpose, at least." Zusrall explains.

"Does she look scary like this?" Vizaness asks her thrall. Zusrall kept Natiri bent over. He
moved in front of her holding her tail out of the way as he wrapped a tentacle around her
neck. She feels Zusrall once again probing her mind. He'd need to monitor for any signs of
pain or discomfort, after all.

"Mnn... No, mistress…" He groaned. He whines when she pulls her tentacle away. "Please
don't stop!" He begged her.

"Oh, no. You owe Natiri an apology for keeping her waiting and being so mean. Show her
how sorry you are by letting her make you feel good." Vizaness makes it clear she won't help
him finish. Tiefling holes is all he would get.

Kalamash didn't need to be told twice. He approaches Natiri from behind. He grabs her hips
for support and pushes himself deep inside her. Natiri moans as the half-orc fills her. She
knew she was tough! She could take it! She then felt Vizaness' presence in her mind as well.
Natiri wasn't in pain at all. The power of Kalamash's thrusts left them all shaken. The
tiefling's eyes rolled back as she seemed to enjoy the rough treatment.

Zusrall was right. His thrall would have been jealous! "Oh! Fuu…! Natiri, are you alright?!
How are you taking this!?" Zusrall cried out in a gooey voice before he pulled out of her
thoughts. It was too intense. He settled for reading Kalamash's thoughts only to find he was
more relentlessly horny than ever. It was an interesting observation. Vizaness remains in
Natiri's thoughts. Feeling Kalamash's raw power left the illithid trembling and slowly floating
to the floor.

Natiri laughed at Zusrall's reaction between moans. "So… Good!! Don't make him stop!
Please, please keep going!" She gripped the bed as every thrust shook her.

"Thank you… Thank you, Natiri…" Kalamash moaned as his flesh slapped against Natiri's.
She wasn't scary at all anymore. She felt really good! He didn't get many repeat mates he
liked because many people were scared of him. It made him feel good when his mates begged
for him. He didn't have to wonder if he was hurting them by accident. He was so happy he
could make them feel good.

“Good boy! You’re being… Nngh- nice! So proud of you!” Vizaness praised.
He lets out a loud grunt. Without warning he found himself filling her moist sex with his
seed. He pulls out and Natiri flops onto her back, a giggling mess. "Dammit… Vizaness, you
weren't supposed to let him make a mess inside! Vebeva explicitly said she wanted her back in
pristine condition!" Zusrall laments.

"Oops…?" Was the only defense Vizaness could come up with. Kalamash however, wasn't
finished. He pinned Natiri down into a mating press and continued his “rampage”.

"A-ah! Kalamash!" Zusrall blushed, unwilling to pull himself from the half-orc's sensations.
"Vizaness, control your thrall!!“ He pleaded.

"Oh fuck! The view from here is too good!" Vizaness watched them eagerly, sitting on the
floor with her back against the wall. She could see Natiri's tail wagging energetically. The
tiefling pulled Kalamash into a passionate kiss that broke Zusrall's will to stop them.
Kalamash especially loved being kissed. It made him feel truly wanted by his partner.

Vizaness was a whimpering gooey voiced mess. She couldn’t even form a coherent sentence
anymore. “Ah… Ahh! Kalam-AAH! Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” Vizaness’ eyes rolled back as she
lost control of herself and her thrall.

“D-dammit… J-just one more and that’s it!” Zusrall tried to put his foot down on all this.
With the sound of his gooey voice, he didn’t even take himself seriously. If they couldn’t
have Natiri cleaned up in time, they’d surely be in trouble. He moves around them to get a
good look at the view Vizaness was seeing. “ Hmm… Yes, I see. That is a very convincing
argument.” Zusrall nods in agreement as he watches Natiri’s tail wag excitedly. The half
orc’s cum was dripping out of her and onto the base of her tail.

“Mmn! Forgive me! I’m such a bad, depraved thrall!” Natiri moaned. She knew she wasn’t
supposed to get so messy but she loved it! She wrapped her legs around the half-orc pulling
him in deep. The attention only made the poor half-orc groan as he squirted deep inside of
her. A few more weak thrusts left him feeling sensitive and overstimulated.

“Th-that’s enough! S-stop!” Zusrall begged. Kalamash finally pulls out of Natiri and flopped
onto the bed, panting hard. He was sweating as his soaked shaft twitched from all the
stimulation to it.
“Sorry…” Kalamash sheepishly apologized. Did he do something bad again? He knew he
had to help clean up his partner but he needed to lay down for a minute.

“You’re alright, Kalamash. It wasn’t your fault.” Vizaness assured him. “Did you have
fun?”

“Uh-huh… You were right. She’s really nice.” He says, finally forcing himself to sit up. He
got Natiri some water to drink and gulped some down himself. As Natiri sipped her water,
Kalamash cleaned her up the best he could. “Uh-oh. I made a really big mess…” He
admitted.

“It’s fine. You both need a bath anyway.” Vizaness does well at hiding her nervousness as she
imagined the ulitharid getting very scary with her and Zusrall. Only at The Breeding Pen did
thralls get such a nice bathing experience. Many thralls just had a basin, soap and a rag. The
bath attendant thralls had the job of making sure the water, fed by a hot spring, was kept
clean. They also had the job of making sure that the prize thralls were cleaned after working.

Natiri was gently washed, accounting for the fact that she was a bit sore after what was done
with her. She smiled, her tail wagging slightly as two attractive drow men cared for and
pampered her. She was blissfully unaware of Vizaness and Zusrall’s psionic bickering.
Zusrall was soon reunited with his thrall, giving their cleaned thrall a headpat with a tentacle.
After Natiri was dried off, she pulled on her dress. In her apron, she found the locket. Natiri
looks at it thoughtfully before she clasps the chain of the pendant around her neck,
remembering Zusrall’s words.

She met back up with her mistress and Whim and she gave Zusrall and his thrall a small little
wave goodbye. As they walk home, Vebeva’s watchful eyes catch sight of the pendant.
“Where did you get that?” She asked her tiefling thrall.

“Oh, uh, Zusrall gave it to me.” She moves closer to the ulitharid, taking it off her neck and
giving it to her so she could inspect it closer. “He… Told me if I felt bad about myself, I
should hold the stone inside… That it could help me be a better thrall.” She admitted.

Vebeva gently takes it and opens the locket to touch the resonance stone. How funny! This
was a resonance stone for a newborn illithid! Zusrall really gave her one of his “Baby
Stones”! “How thoughtful…” She says with warm amusement, closing the locket and
handing it back to Natiri. Perhaps that peon was a little bit less of a peon than other peons.
 Sanctuary Taken
Chapter Summary

Addanil loses his thrall as he knows them.

I was crying while writing this so that's my excuse for any typos.

You and Addanil were 3 days away from Sshamath. The City of Dark Weavings was one of
your favorite places to visit. On particularly successful trips, Addanil would even take you to
the finest tavern in the city, Lukhorn’s Gullet. Gloura’s Wings was another place you got to
visit from time to time. He didn’t see the appeal of the festhall but he knew that you did.
However, when Addanil awoke, the tiny hut was dispelled, the quaggoths were dead and he
had pulled a dart of the coated with drow sleeping poison from one of his tentacles. Worst of
all, his thrall was gone! He never saw it coming. He didn’t even perceive it at all. Stabbed
into the back of one of the quaggoths was a letter, pinned with a dagger clearly made by
drow. He groggily grabbed the note in a panic and read it. It was written in Undercommon.

“Dear Addanil,

After you ate the brain of my dearest Chalynda and took her from me exactly one year ago, I
have resolved to ensure that there is nothing you can possess that I can not take away. I have
taken your prize thrall. By the time I am finished with them, they will no longer be a thrall. I
will liberate their mind so that you can never have them again. They will hate you when they
see the truth about you. You’ll never retrieve them from The City of Dark Weavings.

Yours hatefully, Minzeria.”

Addadil felt a dread in his heart. He couldn’t waste any time. He had to get his prize thrall
back. He didn’t care what it cost. He didn’t care if he died trying. Addanil needed his painter.
He needed you by his side for his world to be right again. He started off in the direction of
The City of Dark Weavings.

You were in a strange place. Your captor was Minzeria, a drow priestess of Lolth. With the
gag in your mouth, you couldn't speak. Your body was bound in spider silk. You started to
cry, wondering what would happen to you.
"Now, now… There's no need for tears, scared little thrall. I am merely liberating some
property from an old foe. You are in Sshamath. You are safe in the Web of the Spider Queen."
She had used Word of Recall to bring you here. The damned wizard she was with charmed
you. They tricked you into being willing to come with them. In addition to the wizard, there
were two assassins who dealt with the quaggoth thralls. You only started to scream and cry
more desperately. This was a bad dream. It was all a bad dream and you'd wake up next to
Addanil. The priestess began casting spells upon you.

Heal, Regeneration, Greater Restoration. You had a memory. You remembered Yorix. He
captured you. He watched you paint. He became enamored with your music. Yorix wanted
you as his prize. You were one inch too short for ceremorphosis. In a sick twist of fate, you
became the aspiring poet's personal thrall.

You had been misled into believing you were meeting a lover who spoke to you in dreams.
How foolish you were. Every mishap in your life was because you were tricked. You started
to feel like a buffoon. The gag was pulled from your mouth. "What are you doing to me!?
Why are you showing me this!?" You cried.

"I am merely pulling away the illusions in your mind." The priestess responded. "You don't
really believe that Addanil cares for you, do you? He'll get a new thrall now that you are
gone. You’re only a thrall, my dear bard." The priestess says.

"No!! You're wrong!" You protested. The things he told you… How could a liar say such
things? Minzeria was undoing your thralldom bit by bit. You weren’t able to accept it.

“Those with a real bond see each other as equals. Do not delude yourself. Addanil sees you
as a pretty plaything at best. You could never be his equal.” The priestess tells you. You do
the only thing you could think to do. You spit in her face.

“What does a priestess of Lolth know of loyalty?!” You growled at the priestess. Minzeria
steps back. She held back from using the whip she kept at her side.

“I knew it once… It was love… Addanil took it from me. Took her from me. Now I’ve stolen
from them. You will know what kind of creature they are by the time I am finished.” Her
voice was cold, and intentionally calm. Your eyes widened. That’s what that word was! “Take
them away for now…”
Despite your protests, and your confinement which left you being kept under close watch,
they never tried to harm you. You were released from your bonds and confined to a priestess’
sleeping quarters. You learned that it had belonged to Chalyndra. It hadn’t been touched since
by the head priestess Minzeria. You wondered what Addanil was doing. Was he alright? Was
he safe? Did he truly care?

Your captors left you with a warm meal of mushroom steaks but you couldn’t work up the
nerve to eat. Within the room was a bed with black spider silk bedding, smooth to the touch.
A wardrobe with a stained glass spider door which held her old clothes. Black candles were
lit with deep purple light with continual flame spells. It was fully furnished. She was able to
decorate it anyway she pleased. Unlike the paintings you filled your room with, Chandalyn
never had to ask to decorate her room to her tastes.

On the second day…

After using his mindblast to clear a nest of hapless grey oozes, came across Welvyr and
Trezzir. How he managed to catch up to them was a surprise, but even more of a surprise was
that Trezzir was practicing his magic, casting Firebolt at a poor rothe that had gotten trapped
in a hole. “What the hell are you doing!?” It was one thing for his thrall to cast spells with
their flute, but to engage in such a practice themselves… Trezzir was the most anti-magic
illithid he knew!

“Oh… Shit… It’s all that damnable succubi’s fault! She tempted me with power! I’m sorry!
Please don’t tell the Encephilithid!” Trezzir tried to make an excuse. Addanil just stared at
him as Welvyr cowers behind his master. Addanil pinched the bridge of where his nose once
was.

“Heretic or not, I have no time for this! My personal thrall was kidnapped by that wretched
priestess Minzeria! I’ll deal with you later!” Addanil had other priorities than a rogue illithid
right now.

“Oh no! They were so nice!” Welvyr lamented about the missing thrall. Your master and
Trezzir were neighbors and Welvyr considered you a friend.

Addanil stormed off. Welvyr looked at Trezzir, desperate to help Addanil.

“No… No! Don’t look at me like that, Welvyr! I’m not getting involved!” Trezzir warned his
thrall.
“But Minzeria is a powerful priestess! He’ll be slaughtered!” Welvyr frowned.

“That’s Addanil’s own fault. He should have kept their thrall safer… If he can’t keep his
property by his side, he doesn’t deserve to have it.” Trezzir said coldly.

“And you would agree if someone said the same to you?” Welvyr pointed out.

Trezzir’s tentacle’s writhed in annoyance at his thrall. “Fine, you reckless lout, but he owes
me significantly for this!”

“Addanil, wait up!” Welvyr calls out, catching up to the desperate illithid. The three of them
would be able to come up with a plan. On the condition that Addanil not speak a word of
what he witnessed Trezzir doing, and that the merchant give him back everything he spent
plus interest of 25%

In Sshamath, your hunger strike didn’t last much longer. You finally eat after you end up with
a headache from a lack of food. You spent all night crying your eyes out into the silk sheets.
The second round of spells left you wondering if he actually cared. If he would really come
to save you. You no longer felt like the citizens of this city should be under the control of
your glorious illithid masters. They didn’t seem all that great now. You retained hope against
hope that your master would find you. He would fix everything…

On the morning of the third day…

You remembered everything. The illithids changed who you were to your very core. Oddly
enough, Yorix chose to keep many of the skills you once had prior to becoming a thrall. You
remembered how to paint, but after your ordeal you weren’t sure you ever wanted to pick up
a brush again. In addition to playing the flute, you remembered how to play an ‘Ud. You used
to be able to sing beautifully. You used to write your own songs. You were impulsive,
unbridled and certainly far from subservient. You were stubborn and given to flights of
fancy. You were normal once again.

You were angry, cringing at the things you said to Addanil. The clothes he made you wear!
He used you! Minzeria was successful in her goals. You never wanted to see the illithid
again. “I just want to go home, Minzeria. I’m sorry Addanil did that to you.” You never even
felt the urge to say “My Master” anymore.

“I am finally able to move on, thanks to you, bard. We kept your belongings so you can sell
them to buy passage to the surface from an adventuring party.” The priestess tells you. You
had no money but perhaps your drowcraft rapier would be enough. You wouldn’t be needing
it back on the surface anyway. You frowned at the tentacles you painted on your crossbow
before making your way to the marketplace to see about hiring adventurers.

At the same time, Addanil was on a frantic search for you in the city. Welvyr had taught
Trezzier how to magically alter his appearance. Without the need of a voice box to disguise
his voice anymore, Trezzier gave it to Addanil at a “Good and cheap” discount. That, and a
hat of disguise from The Genie’s Wish depleted much of his savings. The only thing Addanil
had left was some gems to sell.

Addanil had threatened to eat the shopkeeper to get such a good deal, only to find out from
their investigations that the thrall wasn’t even at the temple anymore! They were finding the
first adventuring party out of here! They weren’t even a thrall anymore.

“Well that was a waste of time. You almost ate that shop keeper’s brain for no reason.”
Trezzir tells Addanil. “I’ll see you back at the inn. You better have my money when you get
back from the bazaar. Come on, Welvyr. They’re gone and so are we.” The mind flayer
arcanist wraps his tentacle around his arm, gently pulling him to the inn. Welvyr looked at
Addanil sadly as they were pulled away towards the inn. Addanil was left a broken illithid.
Who the hell did Trezzir think he was making demands like that?! Somehow he found the
will despite his grief to bring himself and what little he could carry to the bazaar.

He saw you, desperately trying to trade your belongings for passage to the surface.
Unfortunately for you, a poor bard giving away all their few worldly possessions for freedom
to the surface was not compelling enough for the marketplace to care. “You…” Addanil took
off his hat of disguise to reveal himself to you. He came back! This was terrible! He came
back! He was going to take you back to Oryndoll!

You make a run for it. Through the bazaar, you intended to lose him. Why was he so
stubborn!? You couldn’t shake him! He’d chased you into a small cavern just outside of the
bazaar. “STAY BACK!” You yelled, aiming your crossbow at him. It was loaded. “I’ll shoot!
Stay away from me!” You knew it wouldn’t deter him, but you were desperate never to end
up in that situation again.

“Please… Don’t do this. Just put the crossbow down. I was so scared. I was so worried about
your safety!” Addanil pleaded. You stiffened up. You held the stock of the crossbow tight to
your shoulder. Three adventurers were nosy enough to investigate what had transpired in the
bazaar trail behind in order to watch the standoff. A female halfling wizard, a male half-elf
bard, and a human male cleric of Tempus.

“I’m fine, and I’ll be even better without you!” Your finger twitches, sending a crossbow bolt
flying at Addanil. It stuck firmly in Addanil’s shoulder. He gasped at the pain.

“You… You shot me…” His heart broke. He started to cry. “We had a bond! How could you
shoot me!?” Addanil’s voice grew more desperate, and lacked its usual gooeyness due to the
voice box. The cleric slowly raised his mace at the scene.

“Not yet! This is getting good!” The half-elf whispered. The wizard rolls her eyes.

“You didn’t love me! You loved the idea of me! You loved the personality your colony
constructed for me! You don’t know anything about me!” You yelled at Addanil. You were
beginning to cry too. You started reloading the crossbow. The way he held you. The vision of
the forest glade. It was all a delusion! A lie you told yourself. There’s no way he actually
loved you!

“Your favorite color is yellow… Your favorite flowers are daffodils.” He tells you.

“Stop it…” You whispered, the tears rolling down your cheeks. You couldn’t bear to look at
those pained yellow eyes.

“You create the most beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed…” He was becoming a dripping
mess. Why was he crying? Why wasn’t he mind blasting you into submission? What was
wrong with him?! He could have taken what he wanted from you.

“I would never harm you. You know that, right?!” He moved closer to you. You fired your
crossbow again, the bolt bounced off the breastplate under his robes.

“You used me! I was just a plaything for you! You could never love the real me! I never want
to paint again… I never want to see that color ever again!” You dropped the crossbow and
drew your rapier. You intended to throw yourself on the blade. If you couldn’t be free in this
prime material, you’d be free in whatever plane you deserved. In a surprising show of agility,
Addanil reaches for the rapier with his tentacles. His efforts left the blade slicing through it,
cutting one of his tentacles a foot shorter, but you were spared.

Addanil held you tight to him, sobbing. You felt yourself too weak to push him away. You
sobbed in his embrace. “I don’t care what the truth is! I want to face it with you! I still feel
our bond, even as the proverbial seams are ripping away. If I can’t be your muse... If we’ll
never make things of beauty again… Then paint with my blood and agony…”He tells you.
One of his intact tentacles takes your dagger from its sheath and places it into your hand. He
guides your hand to his neck. Addanil couldn’t live without you. He’d rather die. He’d gone
mad with grief. “I love you. Now, then and forever…”

Your hand shook. Despite the anger, pain and humiliation you felt before, you couldn’t do it.
Your hands and clothes are dripping with the illithid’s slime. You couldn’t kill him, no matter
how it hurt. The half-elf bard had decided he’d seen enough and decided to make things more
interesting.

“You were looking for a way out of here, right?” The bard speaks up, making his presence
known.

“What are you doing, Panparin!?” The halfling wizard groaned.

“Oh boy, not another one of his ‘spicing things up’ routines…” The cleric of Tempus seemed
defeated and used to this.

Addanil glared at the intruder, ready to hit him with a mind blast. He tossed you a scroll,
which you managed to catch. “Teleportation. It’ll take you anywhere. You’ve got a choice.
Are you taking your slimy friend with you, or leaving ‘em in the dust?” Panparin proposes.
This would be the ultimate material for his next play for sure!

You looked at the scroll then back at Addanil. “You wanted to face the truth?” You ask
Addanil.

“Yes. Let me learn about the real you…” He takes a dry corner of his cloak, using it to wipe
your tears away. You used the scroll given to you by the bard. You weren’t sure why, but you
think of the glade with the blooming daffodils. You didn’t care where as long as it was away
from here. You thought it would bring you home. Suddenly you arrived in a bright location
with Addanil. You don’t have time to process your surroundings because Addanil hisses with
annoyance.

“Augh! Damnable sunlight! Where are we?!” He demanded to know. He couldn’t see further
than 15ft in front of him in this lighting! It didn’t cause him any actual pain but it was very
annoying.

“A glade.” You tell him.

“A glade where!?” He hissed.

“I… Actually, I don't know!” You admitted casually. He pulled the voice box off.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW!?” Addanil’s voice yelled in your mind.

“Exactly what I said. If you’re already complaining, you can find your own way back to
Oryndoll.” You told him. If he was going to stick around, you would have to figure out where
you actually were and get your bearings. You realize you have placed Addanil and yourself in
a possibly dangerous position.

Addanil groaned and started cleaning himself up and placed his hat of disguise back on his
head. His illusory appearance was that of a human man with black hair, and a long beard that
was intended to hide his tentacles. He took on the appearance of a hard working merchant in
his late 30s or early 40s. He had thick eyebrows and stern brown eyes. He took in his
surroundings to the best of his abilities. He noticed the daffodils. Were they still your favorite
flowers after all? He started picking them until he had a small bouquet. You pondered why he
was doing that. He tied them together with a string from his bag.

“You still like these, right…?” He handed them to you. You gently take them into your hands.
Gods above, he really did love you… It was actually kind of cute, the attention to detail he
put in his disguise. He puts the voice box back on. He silently wonders how badly he’d
messed up by doing this, ending up in gods only knows where for love…

“I do. It’s a start… I’m still mad at you though! How would you like it if someone made you
prance around in outfits like that?!” You ask. You begin imagining Addanil in the “domicile
uniform” to drive the point home.

Addanil’s pale cheeks were hidden by the illusion. His human appearance didn’t blush. “I get
it! It’s embarrassing! Stop that!” Addanil held his “beard” to keep the illusion in place. You
snicker at his reaction.

“We need to think of a name to call you cause Addanil definitely isn’t a human name. It
could probably pass as elvish but elves don’t grow beards. Hue… Hue Mahn.” You playfully
suggest. Addanil makes his illusory face look thoroughly unamused. He sighed.

“Ames. Just call me Ames.” He tells you.

“Ames what? You need a last name. Most humans have surnames.” You pointed out to him.
His eyes dart around as he thinks of inspiration.

“Ames… Glade… Ames Brightglade.” He settles on.

“Well I suppose that’s as good a name as ever. Let’s at least figure out where the hell we are
then.” You tell him. You take one of the daffodils, tucking it behind your ear. “First we have
to figure out which direction is North… I don’t know how to do that, but you know how to
do cartography so good luck!”

Addanil sighed. “Of course… We just have to stay put until nightfall. If the sky is clear, I can
figure it out from there. Please tell me you still remember how to make your Tiny Hut.”

“I do…” Within a minute a dome of force was around the two of you. Addanil had lost his
bedroll back in Sshamath. He had forgotten about it, but he doesn’t find the grass terribly
uncomfortable. The illithid felt more tired than he had realized when he laid down, propping
the hat over his eyes. He used his bag as a pillow. He rested further away from you. There
was no Elder Brain nearby. No one else besides you, and he was afraid to reach out to you.
He felt himself getting lonely, as he became stuck in his own worries. Your bond with him
felt different than before. It was weaker. It was like getting to know a different person almost.
You go through your belongings. He tips his hat to look at you as you rummage through your
bag. You pulled out that horribly skimpy yellow and gold chained outfit he had you pack
away. Your face turned red.

“I don’t want to see you wearing that anymore… That’s for thralls. You’re not a thrall
anymore.”

“Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t wear?” You asked him. Addanil’s tentacles
wiggled in frustration.

“Now you’re just being contrarian!” He jolts up into a sitting position and points at you in an
accusatory manner. He’s right. You were fucking with him.

“Hey, it got you to stop moping.” You try not to let a small smile form on your face.

“I’m serious. I noticed how… Degraded you felt at the memory of wearing that. I told you I
would never hurt you. I meant it…”

Looking at the sky through the dome of your tiny hut, it was more vivid than you
remembered.

“Why did you take me with you? You had no logical reason to do that…” Addanil asked.

“And you had no logical reason to come with me, but you did.” You tell him. Addanil was all
you knew for better or worse.
“ Touché…”
 The Breeding Pen Pt.5: When Trash Becomes Treasure
Chapter Summary

Zusrall makes you read more trash. Things get spicy from there.

Your master had become completely enthralled by the book you were reading as of late.
Every day he made you read. You’d honestly gotten into voicing the characters out loud for
him. Your dwarven accent for Maggurn amused him. Reading time was your favorite time of
the day. You were grateful your illithid masters blessed you with the ability to read. It not
only helped Zusrall decipher lore written in the language of Common in the comfort of his
own domicile, it had brought you closer together. He even bought you some new pillows for
your bed so you could sit together comfortably.

This was definitely a little bit of a slow burn. Stuth Tarrenflare deduced at least ten chapters
ago that Gallahne was not a young cabin boy. It was driving you nuts that he wasn’t acting on
it! “Oh, come on! He even has Gallahne sleeping in his cabin and he’s still pretending she’s a
cabin boy??” You grew flustered at the words on the page.

“Stuth seems to be taking the patient approach in this conquest. I can certainly respect that.

Finally in the 20th chapter, you read the chapter mentally with a hand clasped over your
mouth. Gallahne admitted to the captain that “He made her ill” and he replied with an
indignant “I beg your pardon!” When he caught her trying to sniff his cologne. He demanded
to know the “cabin boy’s” symptoms.

“ ‘...It’s just this strange sea sickness I feel. I’m short of breath and I get so warm, but I’m
sure it’s not a fever. I become weak, like my strength is just draining away.’ Stuth just stared,
disbelieving what he heard. Did the half-elf wench really not know what she was
describing?” You read mentally, and then Stuth realized he had every “symptom” she had!
When Stuth assured Gallahne that he “had the cure” and sent the “cabin boy” to bed, you
started to fan yourself with your hand.

Zusrall’s tentacles scrunched and wiggled in amusement as he softly laughed at your reaction.
“Keep it together! I need you to read the next chapter.” He teased you. Perhaps like Stuth
trying to seduce Gallahne, Zusrall enjoyed watching you squirm as you read this book. You
knew this well, or so you thought.

You always ended up with a warm feeling reading these books that you couldn’t satisfy in
your home due to your Master’s rules. You always left those raunchier chapters for the times
when you were about to go to The Breeding Pen. You learned that lesson the hard way after
the first book your master purchased.

He senses your reluctance to turn the page. “A-are you certain you wish for me to read the
next chapter, Master? It may have undesirable consequences…” You felt butterflies in your
stomach as you tried to warn him. He reaches over with his hand and turns the page.

“I believe I was clear, was I not?”

His insistence to continue left you feeling like Gallahne in the story. Nevertheless, you took a
deep breath and attempted to steel yourself. Stuth claimed he could not sleep. You continued
reading mentally. Stuth wanted Gallahne to read him a book.

“Read it out loud.” Zusrall tells you. Your cheeks turned red and your face felt hot. You
continued out loud. Stuth had tricked Gallahne into reading erotica! The half-elf woman in
the story slammed the book shut, and so too did you shut your book.

“You read this drivel all the time. Don’t tell me you’ve developed a sudden prudishness…”
Zusrall teased. “Keep reading.”

“A-ah… No, master! It’s just-” You stammered. You had to keep going. You had to hold it
together.

“The parallels between this story and us isn’t lost to you at all, is it?” Zusrall pointed out,
wrapping a tentacle around your arm as if to urge you to continue. You spend little time
appreciating the coincidental nature of this book’s contents. You open the book once more to
the page you were on.

“‘It’s called erotica. Don’t tell me you’ve never read such garbage before?’” You held back a
laugh at that line. When Gallahne is unwilling to continue reading the book, Captain Stuth
claims he has a headache and that in order to aid him, Gallahne has to massage his temples.
“Oh suuuure, Captain.” You giggled sarcastically. A smug smile was on your face. You saw
the captain’s womanizing tricks from a mile away. The heat never left your cheeks, but the
nervousness died down until you described their kiss. It was only a kiss, yet it sent your mind
in a daze. Stuth finally revealed to Gallahne that he knew about her ruse the entire time as he
pinned her to the bed. You saw it coming yet it made you feel hot anyway. Zusrall could
sense everything you were feeling while reading this.

You’ve never had to read something like this aloud before. It made you stutter and your voice
was reduced to a soft mumble. You feel his hand stroking your inner thigh. The mere
sensation of your master’s hand sent a shock right through you. All it took was a touch to
send your mind reeling. What about his rules?! It all seemed so contradictory yet he told you
to keep reading. You would obey, no matter how worked up you got.

The explicit descriptions you read of how Stuth kissed Gallahne was making Zusrall’s skin
flush pale. You didn’t notice just how much the words on the page had affected him until you
felt a warm tentacle caress your cheek sensually. You dutifully continue to read as you feel
your body react warmly to the lustful text on the pages.

“‘Captain?’ she got out between kisses.

‘Hmmm?’

‘You’re making love to me?’

‘Oh, yes, my daring rogue.’

‘Do you really think you should?’

‘Absolutely. It’s the cure, after all.’” You continue to read the next paragraph, trying to push
ahead through your master’s touches. How badly you wanted to obey him.

“You have my permission to proceed, Captain…” You read the line before the characters in
your story would proceed to make love, but you would not be able to continue anymore.
Zusrall wouldn’t let you. He turned your head to face him. One of his tentacles pulled the
book from your hands and carelessly set it aside. You could feel his sheer desire as you
looked at him. He wanted you to kiss him.

He leaned in as your hands cupped his cheeks. Your lips pressed against his face. You closed
your eyes, letting out a soft hum as you kissed him. You kissed his cheeks and trailed your
lips down his tentacles. You felt his bliss and burning need with every kiss. Without words,
you felt his rawest emotions. It excites you. You couldn’t deny that your master’s urges for
your passion made you feel hot. It wasn’t just illithids you came to desire…

You wanted him. You couldn’t have just him nearly as much as you liked to. Ever since that
day when he had you all to himself, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Should you really
be having these thoughts within your domicile? He brings himself in front of you. You
gasped as he pulled you into a lying position on your back and pinned you down by your
wrists. You looked up at him before looking away shyly as he brought himself between your
legs.

“Oh, Master! Forgive me for breaking your rules like this…” You squeaked.

“To hell with the rules! I think I’m feeling ill. I need your cure.” He tells you. There was a
lustful desperation in his voice.

“I'll be your medicine. Take me, Master!” You begged. You lightly squirmed beneath Zusrall
as you mentally begged him to ravage you. He roughly pulls open your robes, revealing your
body to him.

His tentacles were quickly on you. One of them pressed against your lips. You open your
mouth allowing it to enter. You suck sweetly on his tentacle, moaning softly as you taste him.
Any remaining apprehension faded away as he released your wrists. One of his tentacles
slipped into your hand so you could hold him. His hands caress you intimately. You feel his
nails trail down your chest, move to your hips and over your thighs. You watched your master
pin your legs back, giving him access down below. Despite his rules, you never wore
underwear.

Zusrall had been sneaking peeks at you whenever you had a wardrobe malfunction in the
domicile, and never bothered to correct it long before he ever had his way with you. Now he
had you on a private display just for him once again. You became overwhelmed with
sensation as he completely ravished you. You felt heat and pressure as he entered you. It was
paired with the sensation of being rubbed intimately. You squirmed, eager to meet his
movements with your hips. You moaned into his tentacle as your passion put you in a daze.

He pulled the tentacle from your mouth. Illithid slime dripped down your chin. You grabbed
the sloppy tentacle with your other hand and pressed it against your lips to kiss it. The
tentacle in your hand slithered to wrap around your wrist. It rubbed against the psionic brand
on your wrist. It mentally reminded him that you were his. You belonged to him in mind and
body.
Zusrall however, wasn’t content with mere ownership of you anymore. He wanted to give to
you. You moaned as Zusrall gave you pleasure and shared it with you. The connection
between you deepened once again. Only when you were alone with him, could you fully
focus on him. Every thrust, every touch, and every kiss brought you deeper and deeper. You
grew closer and closer. Closer than the physical limits of reality could allow. You were just a
whore who knew how to read but he made you feel worthy.

When you and Zusrall were like this, you felt your thoughts and his as one again. There was
instant understanding, warmth, and unconditional acceptance of one another. In this moment,
you were equals as the pressure of your passion builds. Your motions became fluid, automatic
and precise with him. Zusrall knew what this was. He didn’t need to ponder it anymore.
Nothing held him back as you shared his urge to say it.

“I love you… I love you!!”

You cried out loudly as you reached your climax with him. His tentacles slowly pull away
and he embraces you, resting his head against your shoulder.

“I love you… I love you…” Was all his stunned mind could think to you.

“I love you too.” You whispered.. You kissed the top of his head as you came down from the
high of your orgasm. When he moved after several moments, you got him a cup of water
from the basin of clean water in your room. He made you drink first before he drank the rest
himself.

You think that you should probably get cleaned and straightened up, but Zusrall grabbed your
arm and pulled you close. “Not yet… Stay with me for just a little longer.” His voice was soft
in your mind. You wouldn’t protest any moment you got to be close to your master. You
treasured this time.

“I understand now why you read that drivel…” He tells you.

“Drivel?” You chuckled. “It sure seemed like gold when I read it to you…” You give him a
small and smug grin.

“Indeed, it was… I look forward to listening to you turn this trash into treasure.” Zusrall
patted your head lovingly with a tentacle.
You rested your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat as you gently traced your fingers
over the veins of his chest. He wrapped his arm around you, a tentacle rested on your head.
“I’ve been thinking about your desires… Perhaps I could be a little more… Flexible with my
rules?”

You looked up at him, curiosity in your mind. You knew you didn’t have to ask him to get an
answer. What did he mean by that?

“I would allow you to indulge on one condition.” He continues his line of thought with you.

“What condition would that be, Master?”

“On the condition that you think of me when you please yourself, of course.”

You smiled shly, your cheeks turning rosy. “Yes. I could agree to that condition.” You
confirmed.

“Uhm… This might seem like a stupid question, but do I need to inform you first?” You
asked. Zusrall laughed at your question.

“That might get bothersome if you end up doing it a lot…”

You blushed, feeling embarrassed by your stupid question. He reassuringly ruffled your hair.

“I might even take you by surprise… You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Your master teased. You
did indeed love your master’s surprises. You felt your cheeks flush.

“Master, are you trying to work me up again?” You playfully pouted.

“That’s entirely your choice, my favored thrall.” Zusrall tilts your head up to face him. “Give
me a kiss before you get cleaned up.”

You sit up and lean in, kissing his cheek lovingly. He then allows you to clean yourself. He
picks up the book which had fallen onto the floor from your intimate activities. “I hope you
remember which page we were on.”
“I’ll put a bookmark in it later. There’s certainly no way I could forget our place after a
reminder like that.” You smirked at your master as you started washing yourself with soap
and a bucket near your water basin. His tentacles curled, clearly amused by your response.

“I’ll hold you to it, my perfect thrall. Sleep well…” Zusrall pulled on his robes. He placed
your stuffed deep rothe doll back on your bed. Its missing eye had a replacement sewn on to
match its old one. When you were cleaned, you climbed into bed, hugging your master’s gift
to you closely. You would sleep very well, indeed.
 I'm Better Than You and So Are My Thralls
Chapter Summary

Ellimol gets absolutely dunked on. Vebeva is beginning to warm up to Natiri even more.

As project lead with a telepathic range of two miles, Vebeva could have easily told Ellimol
the news of their project defunding from the comfort of her own domicile. Any other
ulitharid would have taken such an easy approach but Vebeva enjoyed delivering bad news to
peons in person. She felt that her presence ensured their understanding and compliance. She
actually didn’t have to use qualith tablets at all to reply to any illithid’s inane requests, but
she did because the impatience of lowly peons waiting for a response was delicious to her.

She was truthfully rather aghast when Whim had explained the accounting books to her on
this project. Eight months of work on a crystal screen that could only be attuned to one
creature permanently? 5000 gold!? She had choked on her cerebrospinal fluid which she had
been drinking from a chalice. The creed-master warned her that if she couldn’t get the
spending under control on her research, the liquid crystal project would be permanently
suspended. It was time to pull Ellimol’s funding.

She would have to recoup those losses. She had plenty of alchemical concoctions and
technology deemed acceptable to sell to the thrall races. She would just have to sign up with
the Possessor Creed to send them off with a sponsored merchant. This seemed like a perfect
job to take Natiri to. She liked seeing the tiefling intimidate anyone in their way. It was
something she’d never told Natiri before.

“All you have to do is stand by me and look scary. You can easily accomplish that.” Vebeva
tells her tiefling thrall. She was getting ready to leave with Natiri. “Whim?” She squished his
cheeks and affectionately pressed her tentacle to his lips. “I got you a snack. You can enjoy it
while Mistress is gone. Stay here and mind the domicile, my good boy.”

Whim blushed and smiled when she called him her good boy. “Thank you, Mistress! All shall
be taken care of in your stead.” He assured her. When Vebeva left him at home, he was
meticulous in creating a welcoming atmosphere for her to return to. He would light some
candles, tidy up her correspondence desk, and organize everything. Vebeva especially
enjoyed the candles that Caramyn had recently gifted her. “Take care, Mistress!”
As they were leaving, Vebeva formed two of her tentacles into the shape of a heart for him to
see. The sight made his heart flutter. In response, he formed the shape of a heart with his
hands. Natiri rolled her eyes at that display. The way her mistress treated Whim was
nauseatingly sweet. When they reached Ellimol’s domicile and lab, she was annoyed to find
he couldn’t even be bothered to answer the door himself! The disgusting nothic cretin Egar
did.

“The master is in the study…” Egar tells her. He cowered before her. The presence of the
ulitharid scared him. Natiri made a single intimidating step towards him that sent the nothic
scurrying behind a door, just to send the message home.

Audio was playing from the screen Ellimol was watching. “You can’t use me as your toy any
longer. Keegan, I’m leaving you.” Run Like The Wind’s voice could be heard.

“Wind! Wind, no! You were made for me! You’re my only friend!” Keegan cried.

“That is your own fault, Keegan. You are selfish and childish. We never would have ended up
in the underdark if it weren’t for you pushing me away. I could have saved you but you didn’t
want to be saved. You never once thought about how I felt. You assumed they didn’t matter
because I was created in a workshop. I have emotions and you didn’t care. I’m tired, Keegan.
Goodbye, Keegan.” The construct tells her. Run Like the Wind then runs like the wind,
leaving the half-goblin behind as he rushes in the direction of Assam. He would disguise
himself as a human and join a caravan. If asked about Keegan he would say she was dead.
She was dead to him.

Keegan, who had no hope of catching up to him, only watched as he ran into the distance.
“WIIIND! COME BACK!” She screamed and cried.

“NEIN! NEIN NEIN NEIN NEIN NEIN!” Ellimol yelled at the screen. He threw things from
his desk in a fury. “Run Like Zee Vind! You vere supposed to be zee key to making a perfect
nimblewright! You were perfection!! How could you leave Keegan like zis?!” He didn’t even
notice Vebeva until the middle of his tantrum. He was embarrassed she saw him like that.

She looked entirely disturbed. Her tentacles were scrunched in disgust as her eyes narrowed
at him. “The construction of a nimblewright requires arcane magic and more gold than our
coffers will allow. It’s not happening so get that heretical delusion out of your mind
immediately. I’m here to announce that your funding has gone over budget. We will have to
cease whatever… This is.” She is quick to squash his hopes and dreams. “What a gaudy
waste of gold…” She insulted the construct he was enamored with.
“Maybe vee could have more funding if you didn’t spend so much on zat Vhim creature!” He
wasn’t sure what possessed him to say that but he instantly regretted it. He never saw it
coming. Vebeva backhanded Ellimol so hard, the illithid fell out of the chair and onto the
floor. She nodded, sending a silent command to Natiri. The tiefling drew her mace and
smashed the screen to pieces like a true hired thug. She then ripped the frame from the wall
and threw it to the floor.

Vebeva lifted Ellimol with her telekinesis and wrapped her tentacles around his neck. She
wouldn’t kill him, but she sure as hell would make him squirm. Natiri watched the scene with
a sense of awe.

“Vat are you doing!? Mein vork!” He cried out mentally.

“That I paid for… Let me get one thing straight with you. No common illithid insults my prize
thralls. I’m a noble. I’m better than you. Everything I own is better than you. Everything!
And that includes Whim and Natiri. You’re worth even less to me than the candles in my lair,
you perverse peon!” She drops Ellimol, letting him fall to the floor. “Give me one good
reason why I shouldn’t report you to the creed-master for personally offending me.”

If she could extort something better out of him, she would. “I’ll do anything to earn your
forgiveness! Please!” Ellimol bowed before her on his hands and knees. She slapped him
across the cheek with one of her tentacles.

“Not good enough! Too vague! Try again!” She glared.

“I… I can give you as much of zat aphrodisiac as you vant! Free of charge, of course!” He
offered.

“And…?” She was expecting an apology.

“I’m sorry, Vebeva! You’re right! Mein humble home and I are vorthless compared to you
and yours.” Ellimol prostrated himself before her. Natiri looked to the doorway to see the
cowardly Egar peeking into the room. As soon as her eyes met his single eye, Egar withdrew
from the doorway and fled to his room.

“That’s right. That’s what I thought. I accept your apology. Get off the floor, you pathetic
peon. You will have 2 jars of your product delivered to me once a month for one year.
Perhaps then I will consider commissioning you for business again.” She sets forth her terms
and conditions.
“Yes. Yes I understand. I’m sorry, I don’t know vat came over me. Zat nimblewright vas just a
piece of rebellious junk, after all!” Ellimol was sweating.

“Good… So glad you understand. By the way, my personal finances are none of your
business. It’s all handled and all my accounts are perfectly balanced. You would do well to
watch your tone with me.” She wouldn’t have anyone accusing her of mismanaging her
money. Ellimol could only project a sense of fear in response. In her eyes, Whim could do no
wrong, even on the rare occasions he made a mistake. No one was infallible, afterall.

Whim was her expert accountant. He was her errand boy. He was the caretaker of her
treasures. He ensured the maintenance of her home. When he wasn’t with her, he was the first
face she saw when she returned to her domicile. He was her everything. The rogue was a
thief who had stolen her heart. Of course he deserved the nicest things she could afford to
give him. She would share the world with him if she could. She’d stop at nothing until they
were at the top and he had a place in her grand design.

“Natiri, come. We’re leaving.” She beckoned for her thrall. The tiefling looked at Ellimol
with disdain before following her mistress out of the mad scientist’s domicile. Egar slowly
checked on his master, taking care not to stop on the shattered crystal, when he was sure they
were gone.

“Lower than candles, Master? Well, at least she placed you higher than dirt.” Egar tried to
make light of the situation.

“Shut up, Egar. Just clean up zis mess…” Ellimol grabbed a broom from the corner of the
room and tossed it at his thrall. “I have a stress-induced headache…”

“No one can say you aren’t formidable, Mistress…” Natiri admitted. There was a small smile
on the tiefling’s face. “Did I do a good job?” She asked. She told herself many times she
didn’t care what Vebeva thought, but when using force, she had to look intimidating. It was,
after all, the one thing she thought she was good at.

“You played your role quite well, Natiri. Your ability to cow the other thrall with a single
look was a nice touch. My creed might be slightly upset by the destruction of the invention but
that’s alright. It outlived its usefulness anyway and Ellimol was no longer authorized to keep
it. We’ll just write that off as an… Accident, yes?” Vebeva reviewed her thrall’s performance.

“Right. It just fell when we were disassembling it.” Natiri agreed.

“Oh, yes. My terribly clumsy thrall knocked it to the floor with her tail!” Vebeva added the
finer details to their story. There wasn’t any maliciousness in the story she crafted about
Natiri’s tail causing another disaster. If anything, it was the perfect excuse. “Oh dear, how
could you?” She asked with a playful sarcasm. Natiri didn’t catch onto the sarcasm at first.
Did Vebeva really intend to throw her under the proverbial wagon wheel? “I think I might
have to spank you.” She teased.

Natiri’s tail wagged slightly and she tried not to let it work her up. She heard Vebeva’s
laughter in her mind. “You’re not in trouble, unless you want to be… You’d like that, wouldn’t
you?”

“Yes…” Natiri mentally replied, her cheeks growing pinker.

She seemed to enjoy teasing Natiri, making the tiefling get all worked up. She’d recently
taken to hiring Zusrall to get all that pent up energy out. Even though his services were good
and cheap, she figured she’d save a couple mindgates today and do it herself.

When they returned to her domicile, Whim greeted them at the door. “Welcome home,
Mistress!” He hangs up his mistress’ cloak. He was happy to see her. “I hope that things went
well for you.” He added.

“They did. Thank you for checking in on that. Did my good boy enjoy his snack?” She lightly
pinched his cheeks. She had gotten him some figs to eat while she was gone.

“Yes, Mistress. They were delectable. I collected your correspondences, cleaned the floors,
and scheduled your upcoming appointments for you. I’ve marked them for you within your
memo upon your desk. Please feel free to review it at your earliest leisure, Mistress.” He
speaks professionally.

“Ah, very good! Thank you, Whim. I’ll review the appointments after I ‘punish’ Natiri. Would
you like to join us?” She did air quotes on the word, “punish”. Whim would never pass up
the opportunity to please his mistress.

“I would be delighted to, my dear Vebeva.” He smiled smugly. She grabs Natiri by her horn,
pulling her into the thrall’s quarters.

“Take off your clothes.” Vebeva commanded. Natiri complied, putting away her weapon and
taking eagerly off her armor and clothing. Whim took off his clothes in a graceful manner,
pulling every article off with care and folding them neatly, placing them upon his bed.
To Vebeva, it was oddly satisfying to watch. She pulled Whim close, affectionately wrapping
her tentacles around him. “Hm… You know I do enjoy your creativity. Perhaps you can help
me figure out what to do with her?”

Whim looked at Natiri with a smirk. “I’ve got some ideas, Mistress.” He says, giving his
mistress a mental picture of how this could play out.

“Oh my! How devilish. Go get our ‘training tools’.” She tells him.

“With pleasure, Mistress!”

As Whim goes to retrieve his mistress’ sadistic accouterments, Vebeva commands her tiefling
thrall to approach her to kneel before her. “I am going to enjoy playing with your body. Pay
me your respects by kissing my boots.” She commanded. Natiri crawls to her and begins
kissing the top of her boot. She tenderly held her heel as she tenderly kissed the leather. She
then moves onto the other boot eagerly.

“Do not carelessly let go of my boots. Is that any way to treat your mistress’ feet?”

“No, Mistress…” Natiri blushed.

“Place it gently on the ground. Try again.” Natiri gently kisses her boot and gently places it
against the floor. “That’s better. Good girl… Very good.” She leans in and caresses Natri’s
cheeks while looking her in the eyes. The tiefling’s cheeks heat up at her mistress’ touch and
her gaze practicing piercing hers.

She stared at Vebeva, stunned. Whim quietly entered the room, quietly organizing everything
he brought in so as not to disturb his mistress. He would speak when spoken to. He would act
when told to. “Whim. Bring me the rope.” She tells him. He dutifully presents it to her and
she drapes it over the sturdy wooden beam in which Natiri’s dried rations were hung. The
rations were moved away to prevent their fall to the floor. Since tieflings were carnivorous,
she was fed bone marrow of rothe and jerky. Perhaps Natiri would deserve a fresh and juicy
steak tonight. “Tie her wrists up.”

Whim happily obeyed and Vebeva pulled and secured the rope so that her arms were over her
head. She was trapped. Her mistress could do anything she wanted to her. “Such a fine piece
of meat.” She joked before she turned Natiri around, making her face the wall. Vebeva wraps
a tentacle around her neck and teasingly trails more of her tentacles over Natiri’s body. One
of her tentacles tugs at her tail. Natiri gasps at the tug of her tail.
“I heard a gasp. Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Y-yes mistress!” Natiri bites her lower lip in anticipation. Vebeva takes the flogger from
Whim.

“You are mine. I want you to surrender and relax. I will take care of you. No matter how
much I hurt you, I will not harm you. Do you trust me?” She speaks authoritatively in her
mind. She was surprised by her thrall’s lack of hesitation.

“Yes, Mistress.”

Natiri feels the tresses of the flogger softly trailing down her back. Her mistress’s tentacles
lift her tail up and out of the way. “Stick your ass out for me.”

Natiri bends over as much as her rope bonds will allow her. She yelps pleasurably as she feels
the flogger’s sting. Her reward for obeying her mistress. She beckons Whim closer with a
tentacle as she whipped her tiefling thrall. When he approached, that same tentacle trails
down his neck and sensually down his body until it pleasured his hardened shaft.

“Oh… Thank you, Mistress!” He sighed pleasantly.

“ Mnn… What do we say, Natiri?”

“Thank you for whipping me, Mistress!” Natiri moaned. She shivered, trying so hard to be a
good girl and stay still for her mistress. She was managing so well. Vebeva was impressed.
She makes her tiefling thrall bite down on the leather handle of the flogger. “Don’t you dare
let go of that. Hang onto it.” Vebeva challenged.

Vebeva rubs a tentacle against her exposed pussy, getting it nice and slick. “Whim. Would you
like to use this naughty thrall as your toy?”

“Yes, Mistress. May I?” He asked politely.

“Yes, you may. In fact, please do.”

Whim lines himself up behind Natiri as Vebeva focuses on her sensations. The ulitharid
wrapped her tentacles around him lovingly. “Let me feel you use her…” She tells him.
Realizing that his mistress would feel it made him blush, but without hesitation he obeyed,
roughly plowing into Natiri. Natiri moans into the flogger’s handle, doing her best to obey.
Vebeva had no idea her thrall was so… Sensitive down there! As Whim ravaged Natiri,
Vebeva clung to Whim with her tentacles.
“Oh, yes! Yes, yes yes yes…! Whim! That’s my good boy! Good boy!” Vebeva moaned in a
gooey voice.

His mistress’ praise alone was heavenly. Hearing her pleasure only increased the high he felt.
He panted softly, eagerly bringing pleasure to both his mistress and the thrall under his
purview.

“Th-thank you! Thank you for fucking me!” Natiri moaned. Whim gripped her hips tightly,
the sound of flesh slapping against flesh reverberated in the room. Without really thinking
about it, he slapped Natiri’s ass, causing the both of them to yelp. He was horrified! What has
he done!? He went limp and stopped what he was doing. He panicked! He had to apologize
immediately! Natiri was left hanging and panting.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

Poor Whim’s mind had completely gone static at that. “N-no mistress! I just! I thought I-”

“Hurt me? Oh please…” She gently pressed her tentacle against his lips. He kisses it
lovingly and eagerly. “You’re still my good boy. My precious Whim… You’d know if I was
unhappy with you. Trust me.” She reassured him. She worked to get him erect once more,
tenderly handling him with her tentacles.

“Oh, Mistress. So gracious and kind. How I love you so…” He nuzzled and kissed her
tentacle. Natiri smirked even though she couldn’t see what was happening behind her. It was
funny how much of a big baby he was being just now. She wouldn’t have a chance to laugh
as Whim entered her once more. Vebeva sticks to reading his thoughts this time to prevent
any further mishaps with Whim’s protectiveness of his mistress. He felt comfortable,
knowing he didn’t have to think so hard. He didn’t have to worry. Mistress would take care of
everything.

“Yes… That’s right. I’ll take care of you…” Vebeva moans softly. Natiri tail found itself
wrapping around Whim’s neck as he fucked her silly. Between his mistress and Natiri, he was
stuck in a pleasant trap. He wasn’t leaving until he gave his mistress what she wanted. Natiri
whimpered uncontrollably.

“I’m so close! Please please please! Can I cum, Mistress?!” Natiri begged. Vebeva switches
to her thoughts for a moment. She wanted to feel this.
“Cum for me, Natiri!” Vebeva tells her eagerly. Soon, the two of them cried out, cumming
together. In Vebeva’s daze she made Whim pull out of Natiri and resolved to finish him off
herself with her tentacles. He gives in easily to her.

“Thank you… Thank you, mistress!” He panted. Vebeva held him close, forgetting about
Natiri for the moment. He reaches up, wanting to be picked up by his magnificently tall
mistress. He’d dutifully wash her clothes if he made a mess. She obliges her favorite thrall’s
desire, holding Whim bridal style. He relaxed in her grip. His mind went blank. He
whimpered as his only warning he would finish.

“That’s it… Good boy…”

Those two words were all he needed to go over the edge. His seed squirted all over the
tentacle pleasuring him. She thoughtfully inspected the mess before turning Natiri around
with her other tentacles and rubbing it onto her breasts.

“Consider this… A new mark of your servitude.” Vebeva teased.

“Thank you, Mistress.” Natiri replies. Vebeva gently placed Whim down and untied Natiri.
Whim dutifully cleaned the tiefling up and put everything back in its proper place. Vebeva sat
next to Natiri on her bed. “Whim, when you cook dinner, please give half of that steak to
Natiri. She’s been a very good girl today.”

Natiri perked up at the mention of fresh meat! “Thank you, mistress!” She meant it genuinely.
Vebeva booped Natiri’s nose playfully.

“You’re not so worthless after all…” She told her tiefling thrall.

“You’re… Not so bad either, Mistress.” Natiri’s tail wagged slightly with a hint of
hopefulness.

“Not so bad??” Vebeva sounded indignant. Natiri’s tail nervously wrapped around herself.
“Well… It’s a start. I know you’ll do better.” She lightly patted the tiefling’s cheek with a
tentacle.

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you for believing in me…” Natiri blushed.

Natiri would go to bed with a full stomach. After dinner, she happily curled up with the
blanket Whim gave her. He swore he was only letting her borrow it, but he never took it
back. “Goodnight, Natiri.” He told her from his bed. It was the first time he’d ever bothered.

“Goodnight, Whim… You smug bastard…” She responded.

He smirked to himself settling into bed. He held the rag he used to clean up close to him,
discreetly taking in Vebeva’s scent and pretending he was lying next to his mistress before he
hid it under his pillow and fell asleep.
 Where's My Fucking Money!?
Chapter Summary

Trezzir wants to know where his money is. He starts getting deeper into his studies of
magic and developing a little crush on his thrall.

“Gone?! What do you mean, gone!?” Trezzir had stayed behind in his Inn’s room while
Welvyr searched for information about where Addanil had gone after he never returned. The
Shattered Scepter was an inn with a poor reputation. The first time Trezzir had stayed here,
someone had tried to steal his luggage. They were currently stuck next to a couple that argued
loudly and had even louder hate sex. If only he had a spell that could shut them up!
Unfortunately, it was the only inn with a room available, but fortune would favor them as the
couple next door were also checking out today!

“They’re just gone! I have no idea how or where, but they are gone! They left together. It’s
like they teleported, but I don’t see how that could be.” Welvyr said, unaware that his wild
guess was true. It was a rather unlikely outcome. Trezzir’s tentacles writhed in annoyance.
Addanil wouldn’t be making good on their agreement?

“Are there any spells that can help me figure out where they are?” Trezzir asked.

“Ah, yes! I wasn’t the best at those kinds of magics but you’re definitely looking for magic
from the school of divination. However, if Addanil is still alive, we could find a scroll of the
evocation spell, Sending. Then one could simply ask him where he is.” Welvyr
enthusiastically explained. The drow was drinking a cup of mushroom tea. The inn truly
offered the worst tea.

“Why are you drinking that? It’s terrible!” Trezzir asked, taste linking to try it. Welvyr
replied with a shrug.

“A desire not to waste, I suppose…” He said.

“Alright, so how much will one of these scrolls cost?” Trezzir asked. Welvyr took another sip
of the terrible tea as he searched his memory for a price range. He grimaces slightly.

“Between 100 and 500 gold pieces…? Although it would be an extra fee for ink to copy it to
my spellbook if you wished to learn or have me use it later. Although are we really allowed
to use Possessor Funds for something like that? N-not that I’m questioning you, Master! I’m
j-just looking out for you!” Welvyr got a bit nervous, realizing he might be pushing his
boundaries.

Trezzir was in thought since the unthralling of Addanil's thrall. A wizard couldn't be a slave
in this city. They were first class citizens. Was he breaking the law? Trezzir noticed that the
facade of Welvyr's thrall status was cracking. Thralls did occasionally free themselves, much
to the horror and fear of their illithid masters. If Welvyr would be free, he wanted to ensure a
cordial relationship. He was far from Oryndoll and he knew he likely wasn't going back, no
matter how they tried to lie to themselves. He had to cover his tracks if he didn't want to get
in trouble with the city officials and his thrall.

"It's rather a strange situation isn't it? The student is commanding the teacher…" Trezzir
says. His statement confused Welvyr.

"Master, I don't understand what you're getting at."

"Cease calling me that. You are to address me by my name when we are in this city. We are
just fellow academic pupils of the arcane." Trezzir spoke firmly in crafting their disguise. He
really started to tire of Welvyr's fear of him. He was far more refreshing to speak to when he
didn't stutter. When he… Smiled.

"Very well, Trezzir." Welvyr replied.

"As for your question, tracking a rogue illithid is Possessor Creed business! Especially when
they owe me money!" Trezzir finally answered the drow's question. Welvyr nodded. He
supposed that was a valid reason. They still had goods to offload, but would it be enough?

"I wish you had told me magic was so damned expensive!" Trezzir grumbled.

"In my defense, you never asked, ma- Trezzir." Welvyr quickly corrected himself. Trezzir dug
through his belongings. He found the rings. He had forgotten about them. He could sell those
but… What if they needed them? After all, why shouldn't he keep them?

If he had to travel to get his money, preventing him from falling under the sway of another
elder brain would be important. He placed the ring on his finger and offered the ring of false
thoughts to Trezzir. He knew it would give Trezzir the power to lie to him if he so wished but
he knew that he wasn't the only one in this city capable of detecting thoughts.
“... Trezzir. Is it really alright?" He asked, thinking carefully before he spoke to avoid
slipping up.

"I have deemed it necessary for our protection. Yes. The ring will help you lie better. It will
make it harder for anyone to discern your true status as my thrall. I am your student. Nothing
more." Trezzir tells him. Welvyr put on the ring, beginning to attune to it.

Trezzir dug through his personal belongings and pulled out his brain mate. " This will fetch
more than enough." Trezzir reasoned.

"What!? You can't sell that!" Welvyr protested with a hushed whisper.

"I can and I will."

"Why not just sell the rings…?"

"Because we need them. I just went over that with you…" Trezzir rolled his eyes. Was he
arguing with his thrall?

Welvyr was starting to think this arrangement wouldn't be so temporary. Trezzir decided he
would just ignore that. They went to the market and sold their goods. The brain mate went for
far less than he would have liked but it was still more than enough. He was desperate enough
for coin that he settled for 1100 gold. "I let that go for far too cheap…" He thought. He did
manage to find a scroll of Sending from a wizard. When it came to buying, Trezzir was a
shrewd haggler. He was able to get it and some scribing ink for a combined total of 200 gold
pieces. It was a fair bargain.

He returned to the inn with Welvyr. The couple next door were having one last bout of
getting it out of their system. "Alright. How long will it take for you to copy the spell?" He
asked, trying to ignore the sounds of loud sexual intercourse.

"For a spell of this power? Six hours total."

"Six hours!? What am I supposed to do for six hours!? What could possibly make it take that
long!?"

"I don't know. Take a nap?" He jokingly suggested. "Each wizard has their own 'handwriting'
I have to spend time practicing and deciphering it. I realize now you were able to understand
so fast because you were using my knowledge and understanding of the spells. It might not
be so fast if you were do it yourself…" He explained. It almost felt like a challenge to his
intellect.
"Are you calling me a fraud!?" Trezzir accused.

"No." Welvyr was surprisingly calm. "Merely observing. I've been something of a handicap
to you. If we're to keep up this charade you want to build, you have to copy a spell for
yourself at some point. Of course, as your teacher, I will be here to guide you."

Trezzir blushed. He felt embarrassed. He really didn't know what he was getting himself into
and he'd never admit it. The way Welvyr spoke to him as if they were equals just now… The
loud moans of his neighbors break him out of his thoughts.

"Just a moment. I need to do some volume control." He had earlier discovered a small crack
in the wall. What did troglodytes smell like again? Ah, yes he remembers now… He begins
casting prestidigitation into their neighbor's room, however the stench ends up being more
like muted sewage. Within a couple of minutes he heard

"What's that smell??"

"I don't know but I'm really not in the mood anymore…"

Trezzir curled his tentacles smugly. What a versatile spell, indeed. Welvyr quietly chuckles at
the Illithid's shenanigans. "Where was I? Oh, right. Copy that spell. I won't disturb you. I'll
take that nap… I need it after the day we've had."

Trezzir laid down. This awful inn didn't even have the decency to get them a second bed.
Thankfully, Welvyr was a drow. He could enter his trance… In that squeaky chair. He
couldn't sleep. Even his own thoughts were keeping him up!

"What am I doing with my life? What are these emotions? Why did Welvyr stroke my ego only
to send it plummeting!? No… It's not his fault. He couldn't have known…" Trezzir thought to
himself. He sits up. He couldn't sleep. He picks up his spellbook. Maybe memorizing his
spells would make him feel better.

He was able to memorize the spells he could cast effortlessly with Welvyr's help, it didn't
seem so daunting with his help. It wouldn't hurt to get an arcane focus if he would try to track
Addanil down after all… "Is it possible to get an arcane focus that isn't ugly?"
The question made Welvyr sputter on his tea. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to laugh. I just wasn't
expecting that sentence from you… Yes. An arcane focus can come in a variety of forms.
Mine is a crystal but it could be something else such as a rod, a wand, an orb or a staff." He
explains. "They sell plenty here. There's no right or wrong answer of which one to get. It all
boils down to personal preference." Assuring the illithid he didn't have to think too hard
about that.

The illithid tries to imagine himself with a staff. The ulitharids with their extraction staves
looked so powerful and awesome. He imagined a staff he could do far more than extracting
brains with. How far did he really want to go with this? He knew he couldn't go back to the
way things were. He knew too much already. They'd never accept him. The cantrips were
fixed into his mind. He knew the psychic surgery to remove the knowledge would be painful.
He wasn't a thrall. They couldn't just rebuild his memories. Apparently he did a botched job
on Welvyr too… For some reason he was glad he had.

He finally fell asleep for several hours. Welvyr gently woke Trezzir up with the sound of a
pleasant little bell produced by prestidigitation. "It's ready. I also went out while you were
asleep and got you this…" Welvyr is holding a polished Zurkhwood staff with a brilliant
purple crystal affixed to the top. "I know beauty is subjective but I hope it's adequate…" It
matched Welvyr's eyes.

"It's perfect… Thank you. You didn't have to go out of your way to do this." Trezzir sits up in
bed and takes the staff, thoughtfully looking it over.

"You went out of your way for me when we fought the bone naga." Welvyr pointed out. That
strange feeling was back. It made Trezzir's breath shorten. He felt his heart beat a little faster.
He tries to distract himself from it.

"How does this Sending spell work?"

"Sending is a spell from the school of Evocation. One can send a short message to anyone
that the caster knows. If they know who you are, they'll recognize you as the sender and they
can respond with their own reply, of course. The limitation is that you only get up to 25
words per casting." Welvyr explains. "What would you like the message to say?" He asks.

Trezzir thinks about it. "Trezzir asks; Where are you? Where's my fucking money, Addanil?"
Welvyr chuckled and nodded affirmatively. "Missiculo. Trezzir asks; Where are you?
Where's my fucking money, Addanil?"

Addanil grew annoyed, realizing he was the target of some sort of arcane communication
from Welvyr. He was busy trying to navigate by starlight now that it was finally dark enough!
"I'm broke. I don't know. Some backwater surface forest. Tell Trezzir to cope with it. Stop
bothering me!"

"Ooh. You won't like this…" Welvyr grimaces.

"What?? What did he say!?" Trezzir demanded.

"He said he had no money, he doesn't know where he is but it's on the surface in a forest and
said for you to cope with it…"

"That ungrateful bastard! I can't believe I let you talk me into helping him!" He conveniently
ignored that he basically did nothing for Addanil. He suddenly felt a sense of apprehension
from Welvyr. He'd made his master angry.

He was starting to mentally shut down. He frowned. He ruined his master's day. It was all his
fault! Trezzir sighed and takes the drow's hand in his tentacles.. “No, no, it's not your fault.
Shhh. You only wanted to help your fellow thrall. Welvyr, you're brave to a fault. In hindsight
I thought allying with him would benefit me." He stopped short of saying it was all his own
fault. "We'll figure out what to do. We always have, right?"

Welvyr gives Trezzir's tentacle a gentle squeeze in response. He'd never had anyone tell him
he was brave before. It made the illithid's cheeks pale when he saw that small smile. "R-
right… Perhaps if we give them some time, I can ask Addanil's uh... ex-thrall instead. They
might get their bearings sooner or later! If they don't know then… They must have teleported
and had a mishap!" Welvyr concluded. "They had to have found a portal or acquired a scroll.
That magic is stronger than even my own." The drow wizard ponders.

He looked down, realizing Trezzir was still holding his hand. Trezzir pulled his tentacle away
upon the realization. They both blushed. "Right then… We have some clues…"

"Yes. Clues…"
"You may desire to acquire more magical knowledge if you wish to right this insult against
you." Welvyr tells his illithid pupil. He didn't want this journey to end. He knew his master’s
pettiness could carry him far. "Shall I acquire maps of Surface Faerun?" He asked.

“An excellent idea. Perhaps I should look more into this… Divination magic.”

“Are you perhaps thinking about a school of magic to specialize in…?” Welvyr asked. “I’ve
decided upon Evocation.”

“I honestly never thought I’d get this far…” He held his new staff closely to him. “I know
this will likely be an investment costing more than what I lost but it’s the principal of the
matter, dammit! I at least need to figure out where they are. For now, however, you should get
some rest if you haven't.” Trezzir tells the other wizard.

“By the way. How’s your injury healing up…?”

“It feels better now… It doesn’t hurt quite as much.” Welvyr tells him.

“Good. Go ahead and trance on the bed. It’s probably more comfortable than that chair.” He
scooted over, allowing him some room. The drow sits on the bed, his legs crossed as he
enters his trance to rest. Trezzir went back to sleep, the staff Welvyr bought on his behalf was
clutched in his tentacle.
 Goblins 101 with Erux
Chapter Summary

Erux teaches the young illithid interns about goblins and acquires his fourth goblin!

Shout out to dok33 for the new goblin's name because the host for
fantasynamegenerators.com was down at the time and I didn't want to wait for the site
owner to fix it.

“Greetings once again, young ones! We’ve explained the basics of thrall ownership. Today
we’re going to go over goblins with our youngest recruit. Think of this as a refresher for the
rest of you.” Erux introduces.

Usgara and Keggin listened intently while Tesok and Zusk seemed a bit bored. They already
learned all this! Why do they have to do it again because of Usgara?

“Can anyone tell me why goblins make good thralls?” Erux asked.

“They’re small.” Keggin spoke up.

“Good answer.”

“They have a history of being dominated?” Zusk recalls.

“That’s very true! Goblins are often dominated by creatures larger than themselves.
Especially other goblinoids, like hobgoblins and bugbears! Through this happy coincidence
of evolution, they’ve done much of the work for us!” Erux confirmed.

Erux called for Malva who obediently joined her master’s side in front of the farm home. She
hugged his leg affectionately. She’s done this routine before, being shown off to the newest
thrall farmers and breeders and was used to it. “Goblins usually stand between 3′4″‒3′8″,
however one specimen on the surface was even recorded growing to over 5ft tall! A healthy
weight for your average goblin will be between 40 to 55 lbs.” Erux began explaining the
anatomy of the goblin. “Although, Quil and Ril are pregnant and they’ll be just a bit heavier
soon. Usgara is a bit too young for conversations about that aspect of Thrall Husbandry so
we’ll save that for another time…” Erux laughed.
Keggin had read the minds of goblins during the act and found it quite pleasurable. He did so
on a dare from the other two his age. Tesok and Zusk actually found it rather disgusting but
all three never did it again after a scolding from Erux and a very lengthy conversation about
making sure the goblins were never intentionally harmed. All in all, Keggin seemed the most
promising of his pupils to take up goblin farming.

“Note the broad nose, pointy ears and-” Malva smiles, showing off her pointy sharp little
teeth. “Sharp fangs. Their eyes range in shades between red and yellow, Malva's here are a
nice candle flame orange. Their skin tones are shades of green, yellow, orange and
occasionally deep red. Green is the rarest so naturally my personal thralls are green." Erux
sounded proud describing his thralls.

Usgara raises her hand. "Don't goblins of the same tribe have similar complexions?"

"An astute observation! Yes, this is usually the case. To prevent inbreeding and support a
healthy population, I'll personally purchase or acquire thralls from other tribes so there is
more variation here. Malva here is from the surface." Erux explains.

"Moving on, we must talk about hygiene. This is important for any thrall but for goblins it
must be done like clockwork! Their leathers must be changed no more than once every two
days! The human thralls are responsible for their laundry and it's your job to ensure they
stick to it! If you notice any goblins itching or showing hives or rashes after laundry day, it
means that their clothes must be washed in milder soap." Erux starts.

"How does one wash the goblin, Erux? They seem unruly." Usgara asks.

"That's because they are. I got bit last week! They'll chomp your tentacles clean off! " Zusk
teased the younger illithid. They did have to get some medical attention for a small bite.

Usgara's tentacles wriggled uncomfortably.

"Of course goblins will resort to biting when you scare them!" Erux scolded Zusk. "You
wouldn't like being picked up and dunked in a tub of cold water either!" He turns his
attention to Usgara. " I wash my personal thralls myself once every 3 days with a washcloth
and soap. Many of the goblins have learned to do this themselves without prompting. The
human thralls will normally do this, but since these three are learning, these three have to do
it too.” Erux sounded a little smug. It was Zusk’s least favorite part of the job but Keggin had
no complaints at all. They were all under Erux’s close supervision to prevent any major
injuries or mishaps.
“I'll have the human thralls fill metal tubs with warm water once a tenday. Always check the
temperature. If it's too hot for you, it's too hot for them!" Erux added.

"I love bath time!" Malva says. "Quil hides until Master brings out the treatos." She giggled.

"An excellent point, Malva. Some thralls need to be motivated to take a bath. It may even
require a microcosm for more stubborn goblins. Remember, it's important not to punish
goblins for biting or scratching. It's their natural defense mechanism against scary
situations. It lets you know something is wrong. That's why I tell you young ones to wear
tentacle guards." He looked sharply at Zusk.

Erux's tentacles had many scars from bites and scratches in his younger years. His tentacles
were reflections of the lessons he learned. "Many illithids like the taste of fear but I
personally disagree with that. Terror can make for a delicious meal in an adventurer but it's
not sustainable long term. Constant fear can make thralls susceptible to health issues. It's
true that goblins are shorter lived and breed easily, but you can easily pass those health
issues onto further generations of your tribe, making for worse livestock in the long term. If
one wants terrorized and poorly bred thralls, I'd tell them to go to the kobold farm across the
ring." Erux begins to explain the psychological aspect of his business. He thought the rate of
egg abandonment over there was wasteful and appalling.

"I think I get it! You're not being soft… Quite the opposite! You put in so much effort so they
can be the most nutritious goblins possible!" Usgara observed.

“Now you're starting to get it! It's a common misconception that I am too soft… Which leads
us to addressing misconceptions about goblins!" He picks Malva up as she tugged on his
pants to be held.

"Two major misconceptions are that goblins are inherently stupid and always savage. As you
can see, Malva is an affectionate sweetie. Their emotional intelligence tends to skew slightly
lower than humans due to their fast rate of maturing, but I assure you that overall, they're
just as keen as your average human. Goblin aggression stems from the social factors of their
tribes. They learn from what they experience. They're keen to pick up on the weaknesses of
others." Erux explains. "When handling goblins, be clear, concise, and firm in what you want
from them."

Erux gently puts Malva on the ground. "Sit!"

Malva immediately plops her butt onto the ground. He hooks a chain to her collar.

"Good girl!" He reaches down to pat her head. “Good behaviors should be rewarded with
praise and the occasional treat.”

"Goblins have a lot of energy and so they require a lot of enrichment in their dwellings.
Giving them tasks and training to do within their abilities is highly encouraged. If you have a
lair in need of traps and ambushes, goblins excel at this as it is their natural behavior. Malva
here is very motherly. Her job is to help care for other baby goblins." Erux begins leading his
interns through the farm, commanding Malva to follow them.

They approached a cave of several goblins harvesting moss, tending to it and growing it,
while being watched and helped by a few humans for the heavier lifting. Erux handed some
tinted goggles to his younger pupils to cope with the use of drift globes for light. "Here, our
farm also grows moss used for furnishings and bedding in Oryndoll. The insects that live in
the moss become important for their foraging behaviors as well."

"So they're not just staple food. They also fuel important industries. That's very interesting!"
Usgara remarks.

"This farm is one of the most peaceful in Oryndoll but this place is my favorite." Keggin
admitted.

"We certainly work hard to minimize aggressive behaviors to keep it that way. Males have
those tendencies more than females so we maintain a careful ratio of 10 females for every
male. Enrichment also prevents boredom and unwanted behaviors. Provide goblins with toys
that are mentally stimulating and promote problem solving. Make sure to rotate them to keep
them interested." Erux informed them.

"What is goblin society like?" Usgara asks.

“An excellent question! Goblins are tribal and highly social by nature. If keeping them as
personal thralls you must have at least two. They sleep in piles, you see. They get very
depressed without a companion or two. Wild goblins actually suffer much strife and violence,
sadly. They must steal and pillage for all they need. Even their young aren't spared such
horrors!" Erux says.

"If this is a tribe, does that make you their chief?" Tesok asked.
"I suppose it does."

"The best tribe leader ever!" Malva hugged his leg.

"Aww… Why, thank you!" Erux ruffled her hair.

"Are they difficult to feed?" Usgara asks. "Your tribe is quite sizable at a maintained 230
members."

"The biggest thing to remember is that while goblins are fairly easy to feed due to being
omnivores, you must ensure they have enough food. They will eat each other if they don't
have enough to eat, which could expose them to disease. We're completely self-sustaining
with a wide variety of edible fungus that our goblins can forage for. We have a large pond of
cave fish, which they can fish from and fire beetles that they can raise. We even introduce
rothe and weak monsters for our stronger goblins to hunt." Erux had every aspect of his
operation thought out for the natural needs of a goblin.

"Mmm… Fish." Malva all but drools at the mention of fish.

"Yes, there will be fish at lunch, Malva." Erux assures her.

"Yay! This is why Erux is the best chief!" Malva grows excited.

The illithids all have a chuckle at Malva's comment. "She's adorable. I hope I can have
thralls like yours when I pick my personal thralls!" Keggin compliments.

"When you're of age, I can help you pick from my stock if you decide you want to stay on the
farm." Erux offers.

“All these methods of getting their own food alludes to the fact that goblins require lots of
exercise and socialization. Their exercise routines will depend on their age and
temperament.” He leads his interns to a small agility course on his farm which Largidussk is
overseeing. “Some goblins here receive special training to do specific jobs that the Tamer
Creed can’t do without small and sneaky creatures. This agility training helps goblins get
pent up energy out as well. Quil quite enjoys playing here, but her exercise routine is now
more gentler for now.” Erux says, watching Oglax train the goblins there.
“Play is an important part to the development of many humanoids, and goblins never
outgrow this need. You can motivate your goblins and benefit from their need for
entertainment by turning their training into a game. Such as, who can clear the course the
fastest? Turning it into a friendly wager with a reward is a great way to engage goblins for
their training.” He suggested.

“I get it! You’re using the psychology of positive reinforcement! By showing the goblins that
certain behaviors result in a good outcome, the behaviors you want to see are more likely to
occur!” Usgara commented.

“Precisely! I go out of my way to avoid negative reinforcement such as hitting, yelling or

threatening gestures because they’re 15 times more likely to cause stress in a thrall. These
methods do not correct undesirable behavior. It merely suppresses it. Notice how Malva
walks with me and doesn’t pull on her leash?”

The younger illithids listen to Erux intently and observe him. “When training Malva, I would
give her treats when she kept the leash loose and stayed with me. If she pulled, I stayed still,
stopped walking and didn’t give her any more treats until the leash was loose again. There’s
no need to yank and pull. One just needs patience when dealing with goblins. There’s no need
to hit and hurt them. The wild goblins deal with that enough. We’re certainly better masters
than bugbears and hobgoblins, don’t you think?”

His young pupils seemed to consider this carefully. Erux had studied behavioral sciences for
years on goblins. “Would you rather have a thrall who is only doing something you asked for
so you don’t hurt them? Or one who happily engages with you and offers good behaviors
because they are compelled to by good training?”

The young interns all seemed to be in agreement about the obvious answer. The latter. Erux
watches the goblins in the agility course. One goblin in particular caught his interest. She
climbed, jumped and ran with quiet determination. She was graceful, nimble and seemingly
unaffected by the world around her. Erux had his eye on her for a while.

Her name was Soup. It was a nickname she earned for the soup she made, which she dutifully
made when the ingredients were available once a tenday, and served without so much as a
smile or frown. She was calm, focused, and forward. Yes… Perhaps that’s what his home
needed. “I think that will be all for today! Next time, we’ll talk more about positive
reinforcement and show it in action.” Erux sends them on their way. When they were gone,
he approached Soup, who looked up at him. Her hair was in a long braid. Her face was
emotionless as she looked up at her owner. She was never happy or sad. She was so different
from his other goblins. She was never happy nor sad, excited nor annoyed.

She was a mystery he wanted to solve. “Soup, how would you like to move into my home?”
Erux offered.

“I will do so if that is your wish, Master.” Her voice was a calm monotone. Any other goblin
would have jumped at the chance excitedly. Being in the master’s home was the highest
honor, yet Soup didn’t seem to care either way. Her response was fascinating.

“Yay! Soup is coming to live with us!” Malva seemed excited about this development. “Since
you’re new, I’ll share my fish with you!”

Soup stared blankly at Malva and silently nodded affirmatively. “Finally found your fourth
goblin, hm? When are you getting your fifth?” Largidussk teased.

“No plans to. Four is enough.” Erux told his coworker.

“For now.” Largidussk’s tentacles curled with amusement at his own joke.

“Oh, hush. I’d need to dig out a whole new space if I wanted to support more than four.” He
dismissed his co-workers teasing in good spirits. “Have you eaten lunch yet, Soup?”

She shook her head to indicate that she hadn’t.

“Well, that’s perfect. Let’s go have your first meal in your new home.” Erux tells her. He
gently wrapped a tentacle around her collar to test how she handled being leashed. She
followed him at his pace, sticking close to him without complaint nor enthusiasm. She would
indeed be a very interesting addition to his personal thralls.
 Please Spank Me, Master!
Chapter Summary

Zusrall experiments with impact play on his prized thrall after their jealousy over Natiri
comes to a head. This new training deepens their bond.

I posted this in a bit of a rush before I had to leave so I'll proofread any mistakes later.

It was the first time you’d paid attention to this emotion. It was horrible! Even Kalamash
couldn’t pull you out of it. It was bad enough she got to spend time with him without you!
Watching your master spank Natiri and the pleasure she received from it during this play
date, you couldn’t help but think; That should be me! What was wrong with you? You
shouldn’t be feeling that way! That’s selfish! It feels bad! Your master is just doing his job!
Kalamash can have fun with whoever he wants to!

“Zusrall, I think your thrall really is getting jealous.” Vizaness teased.

Jealous!? He looked into your mind, staring at you. His eyes pierced your very thoughts.

“What? No!” You denied. You tried to push the bad feeling away. You had to be good!
Zusrall stopped what he was doing. It made you swell with anxiety and shame.

“Natiri, I need to take my thrall home. They're having a bit of an emergency. Will you be
alright with Vizaness?” He asked her. Natiri nodded with understanding.

"It's alright. Your thrall comes first." Natiri said.

"I'm fine! Really!" You felt as though you were ruining everything, but Natiri's words did
indeed make you feel a little better. You resisted the idea of going home without making
everyone satisfied. Your reputation as a perfect thrall was at stake!

"Come." Zusrall firmly commanded, snapping you out of your thoughts. You gave Kalamash
a kiss on the cheek goodbye and joined your master. You frowned as he put on the leash
before forcing on a smile to wave goodbye to everyone.

You sighed when you were out of The Breeding Pen. You must have really messed up to be
going home early! Zusrall knew you were hard on yourself even if you had nothing to
apologize for. "You are not in trouble. You're normally in good spirits, but you shouldn't
ignore the negative feelings either. They can be just as important as positive emotions. Stress
responses can serve a purpose in telling us what needs our immediate focus. We're going
home to work that out." Your master explained.

His words instantly began to untangle the string of emotions you felt. He was so wise. "I still
feel bad that you felt the need to stop because of me." You told him. "I asked for a tiefling
and now that I got it, I'm acting like this? I'm ashamed to be so… Ungrateful."

"So what? Vizaness will get half of my payment. It's not as if I was charging much to begin
with." Zusrall didn't care about the mindgates all that much. He offered such a good and
cheap rate to be able to keep Vebeva in his sphere of influence. "She already calls me a peon.
What will she realistically do? Call me an Ultra Peon?"

You snickered at that. Zusrall did know how to lift your mood. "Jealousy is a completely
natural emotion that even thralls can experience. It doesn't make you petulant." He assured
you as he took you inside of his domicile. He picked you up, bridal style and held you in his
lap when he sat on your bed.

"Can you describe that jealousy? Do you know what triggered it?" Your master was trying to
get to the root of the issue.

"Uhm… Well…" You poked your fingers together, thinking about when he was spanking
Natiri. Before you could even form another sentence, your master spoke in your mind.

"You want me to spank you? My, what a naughty thrall you're becoming." He teased.

"Wha-! I know that's for naughty thralls! I'm good right?? I shouldn't-"

Zusrall laughs, caressing your reddened cheek gently. "You want to know what it feels like.
You don't actually have to be bad to get spanked, you know."

You looked at him as if he had just blown your mind. The secrets of the sex thrall universe
were being revealed to you. “I never did those things to you because I never wished to harm
you, my favored thrall. You are experiencing this jealousy because Natiri is receiving a type
of attention that you aren't." He concluded.
He was right. You didn't hate Natiri at all! In fact, you liked her quite a bit. It was what
Zusrall was doing to her that triggered those thoughts. "I'd try anything for you! Please spank
me, Master!" You begged.

"First we need to establish some boundaries for your safety, my prized thrall." Zusrall had
your mind on a proverbial leash, holding it securely before you could proceed. It gave you
pause and you listened to him intently. "Natiri has what Vebeva calls a safe word. A signal
you can easily use to tell me if you feel uncomfortable. You are asking to do things that could
hurt you. Think carefully. This word needs to be something you can remember."

You begin to think about it. "Stuth?"

"Stuth Tarrenflare? The character from Tender Rogue?" He found it immensely amusing but
made sure not to laugh.

"I know it sounds funny but it's the first thing that came to mind." You admitted.

"It's fine! That's a good thing. If it sticks in your mind, that's all that matters. Natiri's is
'mango'." He figured sharing the other thrall's safe word would make you feel less silly.

"What aspect of that activity seemed so appealing to you?" He wanted to find out more. You
lightly hold one of his tentacles as you search your feelings.

"She seemed to like it a lot. The way her tail moves when you dominate her. Her body
language just does things to me. It's aesthetically pleasing? I wish I was that cute…"

Zusrall's eyes widened. "You're just as cute as any platinum thrall! Who put that nonsense in
your head?? Was it Whim!?"

"Me… It was me." You sheepishly admitted.

"Natiri can't read to me like you do in amusing accents and tones. She doesn't fall asleep with
her favorite toy or hum a pleasant tune as they do their chores. They don't kiss me before they
go to bed. In fact, they hate the taste of illithid upon their lips. You're my perfect thrall and
you are adorable." Zusrall was adamant in providing examples of your cuteness.

It was as if a weight had been lifted from you. You hugged Zusrall, feeling lighter. "So do you
still want that spanking?" You master asked, firmly grabbing your butt. You blushed at his
touch.
"Yes, please." You smiled shyly.

“Stand up.” Zusrall commands. You slide off of his lap. He grabs your leash and leads you
into the sitting room. He then releases your chain and sits down in his comfortable chair,
made of deep rothé leather. He takes your hand and drapes you over his lap. Your robes
barely covered your bottom in this position. He gets a grip of your hair close to the scalp,
pulling your head up so he can look at your expression. He didn’t need to see your face to
know how you felt, but the look on your face was priceless. Excitement, curiosity, and
perhaps a hint of nervousness.

He caresses your rear. You feel anticipation as your master touches you. With the mastery he
had over your mind and body, you felt comfortable. As you close your eyes, taking in the
feeling of his hand, he pulls the fabric over your buttocks and lightly spanks you. The
sensation got your attention. He then slowly lifts the fabric and his hand makes contact with
the bare skin. Alternating from side to side, you feel a soft sting. It wasn’t harsh. He wasn’t
laying into you. “Good. You’re doing well.”

The sound of his hand against your flesh softly echoes through the domicile before coming to
a stop. You panted softly, he was working you up. Once again he caressed you with the
addition of one of his tentacles teasing your genitals. You moaned softly, enjoying the
sensation. Your master using his body on you was a better sensation than any other thrall
partner could give. It was the best reward you could receive for being a good thrall. “This sort
of feels like training.” You softly admitted.

“A perfect thrall never stops learning.” Zusrall said. His voice was somewhat smug, but the
wisdom stuck with you. He slowly pulls his tentacle away, tantalizingly running the slimy
tendril over your slowly reddening ass, and warms you up with more light spanking. “I want
you to count each time I spank you now.”

His hand came down hard. “Aaah! One!” You cried out. It slapped again. “Two!”

“Three! Uhh!”

“Four!”

You started to squirm as you whimpered the number five. You groaned the number six.

“Seven… Eight! Nine! Ten!! Aaaah!” You were a panting mess when he stopped after ten.
Your ass was red and warm. Natiri was one one tough tiefling! You didn’t think you could
handle more than this! “Ss-Stuth…!”
“Such a good thrall. You didn’t lose count at all…” He praised you. You smiled. It stung, but
his praise made you feel victorious. You were his perfect thrall. Zusrall gently brings you off
of his lap and to your room. “Lay down on your stomach on your bed.” You did as you were
told without question. “After such a hard lesson, you need your recovery.”

You didn’t see what he was doing as you held onto your pillow for comfort, but you smelled
a very familiar licorice scent. It was crag mushroom lotion. Its medicinal properties were
generally used to help alleviate symptoms of The Ashen in illithids. It immensely helped in
relieving dry, irritated and reddened skin. You’ve used it on your master every time he was
ill. You’ve seen other thralls using it on Natiri after a rough spanking. You felt cool soothing
hands rubbing the lotion into your skin. He was really doing that himself? He really didn’t
have to, but you weren’t complaining! “Thank you, Master. I love you.” You show your
gratitude. Those last three words slipped out so effortlessly.

“I love you too.” He leaned over to pat your head with a tentacle. You feel him gently
massaging it in. You could have fallen asleep to this sensation if he let you. Your arousal
heightens slowly as you feel his tentacles on your thighs and his hands teasingly touching
near your more sensitive spots. “Does my perfect thrall want a reward?”

“Yes, Master. Please?” You eagerly squirm to give him better access to your body.

“You know what else is cute about you?” Zusrall asked. He felt a curiosity in your mind that
yearned for the answer. “The way you submit and beg for me.” His words only increased the
warmth in your loins. He pulled you up to your knees and intimately undressed you from
behind with his tentacles. He was in control of you and your nudity. He wrapped his arm
around your neck. He wasn’t placing any pressure, merely securing you. Your head rested in
the crook of his arm. The vanilla-garlic scent of his body was fresh in your mind. When he
released your nude form, you turned to face him. You kissed him lovingly until he guided you
to lay down on your back in a comfortable position.

“You are a selfless, perfectly subservient thrall.” His praise was in your mind. You felt
yourself bound by a mental command to stay perfectly still. You didn’t fight it. It felt right as
his tentacles intimately caressed you. You relaxed, your mind completely opened to him. Soft
moans escaped you. “That’s it… We’re all that matters right now. No one else matters right
now.”
The worry that you disappointed the others earlier today fades away. All that mattered was
your master’s happiness. It made you happy to serve. It pleased you to serve.

“Oh… Oh, Master...”

You feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into your bond with him, and all felt right with
the world. As he filled you physically and mentally, you were reminded you belonged to him.
No other thrall could change that. He owned your heart, as you had captured his. He was your
master.

You heard him gasp and shudder with you. You felt it. You didn’t need to open your eyes to
know. You weren’t just a whore. You were his whore.

“No matter what, you are mine.”

His words made you weak. You let out a louder moan, getting more and more worked up.
Your legs trembled. There were no words. Only mutual pleasure. Only your master could
cure you of what ailed you. You allowed your orgasm to crash over you like a wave, letting
go of it all.

“Thank you… Thank you, Master!” You laughed softly between labored breaths. He joined
your side, leaning in for you to kiss him and he handed you some cloth to clean yourself. As
you wipe yourself clean, he picked up the book, Tender Rogue. He settled into bed and
handed it to you when you were done.

“So… Now that we’ve got that worked out, do you think you’ll be able to finish that ‘spicy’
chapter?” Zusrall asked, wanting you to continue reading.

“Oh, that’s right! We got distracted from that, didn’t we?” You smiled. You open the book
and begin reading.

In the following chapter, Gallahne went right back to being disgusted with Stuth, returning to
her own bed after having an irrational fit after the characters got into an argument about their
nationalities. The character had an irrational hatred of all things Amnian. It is revealed that
the man Gallahne just had a passionate romp with and lost her virginity to was from Amn.

“I doubt that humanoid women are usually this irrational and hot-tempered, but Gallahne is
certainly one little spitfire… It seems that Stuth has not conquered her yet, after all.” Zusrall
observed.
You laughed softly at this. “I suppose we’ll have to continue reading to find out if he
succeeds, won’t we?”

“How many chapters are in this garbage?”

“Forty-eight, Master.”

“We have plenty of time to find out then.”

You smiled and turned the page, putting on your best voice that you imagined for Gallahne. It
was a rather sassy tone. “Good night, Captain. On second thought, I hope your headache
returns… if you even had one, which I’m beginning to doubt.”

Zusrall laughed at the same time Stuth in the story laughed. The parallels between them made
you laugh. “The next time he got bored, he might just tell her, merely to see what would
happen.” You read aloud.

You turned the page to the next chapter, revealing that Stuth would go on pretending that
Gallahne was still his cabin boy. The half-elf was Stuth’s little secret, just as your bond with
Zusrall was yours. “I heard your prize thrall got jealous.” Vebeva had teased Zusrall and
you. She found it funny. There was no escaping her, even in his own home. You blushed at
that.

“My apologies, Vebeva. I did not intend to-” You started to apologize.

“I didn’t tell you to answer.” She said bluntly. You felt yourself shrink a bit. She could have
easily ignored you. She didn’t even have to listen to you at all. She was purely fucking with
you.

“It’s only natural that working with a platinum thrall, mine may feel threatened. I assure you
it won’t happen again, and I will carry out my obligations to you with utmost care and
professionalism going forward.” Zusrall answered cordially and calmly.

“Good. That’s what I like to hear. I will say that Kalamash is a very interesting thrall.” She
found him to be a nice half-orc specimen, even if they normally weren’t her type. She would
never own such a difficult to control thrall. Vizaness clearly had her hands and tentacles full
with Kalamash, but he did an excellent job of getting Natiri’s pent up energy out. “I’ll see
you next tenday. Let’s hope your prize thrall can keep their feelings in check.” She tells your
master.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m confident I’ve solved that.” Your status as his prize
thrall wasn’t in question in the slightest. When he was confident she was no longer speaking
to him he turned to you. “Vebeva can be such a bitch sometimes!”

You wheezed with laughter at his remark. “Don’t let her hear you think that…” You warned.
“She is such a bad bitch, though! She’s a bit harsh sometimes, but I’m thankful you have her
business. You’ll climb those rankings in no time, master!” You looked on the bright side.

“That is very true, my prize thrall…” Maybe one day, he imagined, he’d have his own
festhall…
 The Training of Whim
Chapter Summary

Vebeva is concerned about Whim's recent spanking incident and asks Caramyn for
advice.

“Good day, Caramyn. How are you faring today?” Vebeva greeted Caramyn from the
comfort of her own home. It wasn’t often she reached out to others so directly and Caramyn
had become a strange exception as of late. The gnome and the ulitharid had begun talking as
if they were friends. The conversations they had were great company when they were bored,
and helped fill her lonely housewife life as Caramyn really only had her own company during
the day when Dallimeze was gone.

“Oh, hello, Vebeva! The ‘pathetic creature’ as you call him, should be home from work
soon.” She found that nickname highly amusing as she mentally replied to Vebeva. “I’m just
reorganizing the Torture Lab. Going through old things. I found a box of restraints you might
like to try! One of them is even from Shou Lung!”

Vebeva was currently being pampered by Whim, getting a nice back massage from him. He
didn’t trust any other thrall to handle his mistress’ relaxation. He wasn’t privy to the
conversation Vebeva was having with Caramyn. “Ooh, that does sound like fun. I should get
Dallimeze to bring you over sometime soon. We could try them on my thralls. I recently
noticed that Whim quite enjoyed being restrained by my tentacles and- You would NOT
believe it. The funniest thing happened in our last play session!”

Caramyn smiled while organizing what things would go in the trash, and which they would
keep. Mostly failed projects they never got around to disposing of. “Ooh, that sounds like
fun! So what happened?” She asked, eager to hear Vebeva’s gossip.

Vebeva recounted how Whim had spanked Natiri while she was linked to her sensation, and
panicked, thinking he had hurt his mistress! “Although I am a little concerned about him in
that situation… Natiri felt quite intense but pleasurable, but I can’t experience it as much as
I’d like if Whim’s protectiveness of me is holding him back.” She had her eyes closed as she
fully relaxed under Whim’s attentive touch.
Caramyn processed her friend’s concern. She knew Vebeva didn’t outwardly consider her a
friend but to the gnome she was her best friend. Far better than a mere friend! “If you’re
seeking advice I would be happy to offer it.” Caramyn couldn’t leave her hanging if Whim
wasn’t performing to his mistress’ desires after all! He was a fine thrall. He deserved to be
the best.

Vebeva turns her focus on Whim for a moment. “That will be all for now, Whim. That was
satisfactory as always.” She tells him. She knew Whim couldn’t hear her conversation but
she wanted him out of the room regardless. He was keen to pick up on her body language,
subtle as it was. She wanted utmost privacy. Whim gives her a clean silk robe to wear which
he hand washed earlier in the day.

“Shall I prepare dinner, Mistress?” Whim asked.

“Yes. Remember, Natiri likes her rothe steak medium rare.”

“Yes, Mistress. Nothing is above your keen observation and attention to detail.” He
complimented her with a smile, leaving to cook the food as requested.

“I was sending Whim to prepare dinner. It’s a shame your peon husband can’t afford fine and
fresh ingredients. He says you’re a fine cook. I’ll make you a friendly wager. If your advice
works, I’ll acquire some trillimac for you.” Vebeva offers up a friendly challenge. Maybe if
that peon would try the finer things in life, he’d be less of a peon.

“You have yourself a deal! Hmm… I’m thinking that because you’ve got a new dynamic in
your home, Whim might not have fully adjusted to it. As we all know, dominance is something
that has to be maintained through constant communication. Our boundaries can shift and
change over time. Basically you have to reassert your dominance sometimes, Vebeva.”
Caramyn tells her as she neatly packs the restraints away in a crate.

“That sounds odd. He’s already wholly loyal to me as a thrall. Please elaborate.” Vebeva
says.

“He associates the sensation he gave to Natiri when he spanked her to hurting you, and you
don’t want him freaking out, right?” Caramyn is trying to get to the root of the issue, framing
it in a way she understands.

“Yes, that’s correct .” Vebeva affirmed.

“You just have to remind him who’s in control. I’m confident it can work in a way that makes
you both happy. You definitely have far more tools in your psychological arsenal than I do.
When it comes to dominating Dalli, I’m a gnome. I’ve got that higher pitched nasally tone
that most people won’t take seriously, so I compensate for that by using my body language
and playing into our size differences. You’ve probably noticed how I’ll have him bring me to
eye level with him or I’ll bring him down to my level. The step stool is my favorite tool.”
Caramyn begins to explain. Vebeva laughs at that last sentence. The mental imagery was
hilarious!

“I’m glad you found that funny.” Caramyn smiled. “ You’re grand and imposing, not just in
size but in mind. You speak firmly and confidently. Try using your authoritative voice on him.
Outside of your innate abilities, you seem to have a strong bond with Whim. You’re the one
individual he trusts unquestionably. If he can’t trust himself, remind him that he can trust
you.” She says while trying to scrub hardened candle wax off the floor from an earlier
“experiment” with Dallimeze.

Vebeva thought about the gnome’s advice carefully. She did notice how Whim seemed shy
and humbled in any situation where he was in control of his pleasure. Everything belonged to
his mistress. He took nothing that wasn’t given to him. He did nothing without permission.
She was in charge. Is that why he felt he didn’t deserve that fellatio from her while puppeting
Zusrall’s thrall? “I see. That’s certainly insightful, Caramyn. Thank you for your advice.” She
said with a warm tone.

“Oh, Dalli’s home! I have to get his soaking tub and his dinner! Would you like to chat
later?” The gnome is setting aside a box of failed experiments for the trash.

“Indeed. This was an enlightening conversation. I’ll share the results of our little wager
later.” Vebeva bid the gnome farewell.

She meditated on how she would enact her new training until Whim informed her it was time
for dinner. In addition to the fresh brain of a derro, which was her favorite thing to eat, Whim
prepared a side of deep rothe tripe for his mistress, marinated in cerebrospinal fluid. The
plating contained green lichen shaped into hearts for decoration. For the rothe steaks, they
were spiced with fire lichen with a side of roasted zurchwood spores drizzled in vegetable oil
from the surface, holding the spores on Natiri’s portion of course. The dessert course was
trillimac pudding, the bread-like fungus making the perfect substitute to use in a bread
pudding recipe.
It was an unusual thing for an illithid to share their dining table with their thrall, but Whim
cherished his spot at the table in the other chair. Natiri had no chair or place at the table for
two, but Vebeva had recently given her a lap desk so that she may sit on the floor closer to
them. It was perhaps more dignified than sending her to her room to eat. She even got a
cushion to sit on now!

Vebeva found the derro’s sense of grandeur to be delicious. After finishing the brain and
starting on her tripe, she looked over at Whim. She began thinking about what Caramyn said
but she lovingly complimented his choice of plating. “Are you enjoying your meal? You’re
making a mess of your dress, Natiri.” Vebeva looked down at her. Natiri blushed and laughed
nervously.

“Sorry, Mistress. Whim’s cooking is just really good!” She admitted. She knew the
compliment would only make Whim more smug but she couldn’t deny it. That spiciness, the
tenderness… It was like an excellent and expensive inn!

“When you are done eating, you will clean your uniform. My thralls must always look clean
and pristine. I don’t want to see a single stain.” She tests out her authoritative voice on Natiri
to build her confidence with Whim. It had been a long time since she spoke to Whim in such
a manner.

“Yes, mistress.” Natiri nodded, slowing herself to eat more neatly.

“Whim, I want to see you in my chambers after dinner.” She tells him in the same tone. He
nearly dropped his fork. He started to blush. She hadn’t spoken to him like that since the first
month she acquired him.

“Yes, Mistress.” He maintains his professional voice, even though the perfect butler’s cheeks
were red. Natiri watched that little exchange curiously. She had no idea what that was about.

Whim worked up the courage to speak up. “May I inquire what you need or desire from me
in your chambers?” He asked, wishing desperately that the heat from his cheeks would go
away. He probably looked like a buffoon to her! In truth, the blush on his embarrassed face
was adorable to her.

“I want to speak to you about the spanking incident.” She tells him. There was no reason
why she couldn’t be up front with her thrall. Natiri thought Whim’s reaction was funny, but
she knew better than to laugh at him.
“I see…” He wasn’t hungry anymore. Gods above! She was calling it an incident! How
would he recover from this!? His face was hot. His eyes were cast down. He knows what he
did wrong.

“Look at me.” The ulitharid commands. He snaps out of his thoughts and looks at her
directly. He was like a dog, eager for the next command. “I will train your hesitance out of
you. Your job is to obey. Do you understand?”

It was just like the time he’d accidentally dropped a tray of rothe stomach on her new dress
by mistake. He wanted so very badly to die for his carelessness that day, but she merely made
him clean it thoroughly and prepare a new meal for her. His fear began to fade. All he had to
do was obey. It sounded so simple when she put it that way. “Yes, Mistress.” He nodded. He
moves to continue eating.

“Leave it.” She tells him. Whim obediently places his fork back down on the table. “Natiri,
clean up the table. Whim, stand up and come with me. Now.” Vebeva commands. Whim
stands from the table and follows close behind his mistress. “Close the door.” Whim obeys
the command. She leads him by his collar with her tentacle and pushes him against the wall.
The human butler gasped softly. She began to undress him. Her hands and tentacles nimbly
pull his clothing from his body until he is nude. His breathing gets a bit heavier as he feels
himself getting aroused.

“When I told you to let me feel you use her, was that a request or an order?” Vebeva asked
him.

“That was an order, Mistress.” Whim answered.

“And did you follow that order, Whim?”

He learned early on that apologizing earned him no favors. Apologies did not fix one’s
mistakes. Only acting on one's remorse to do better could someone be truly sorry. “No,
Mistress.” He sounded disappointed with himself. “Please teach me to do better.”

“That’s what I like to hear… You remember, don’t you? Mistress will…”

“Take care of everything.” Whim finishes her sentence.

“That’s my good boy.” She softly patted his cheek with a tentacle. Vebeva then picked him
up, which had surprised him. It aroused him immensely to feel her power both mentally and
physically. Vebeva carried him to his room. Natiri stared at them as she washed the dishes.
Vebeva placed Whim on his bed. The handsome human butler looked up at his mistress.
“Kneel.” Whim gets on his hands and knees on his bed. “Down.” She gently pushes his head
down, making him bow before her. She snaps her fingers and points to the floor. “By my
side.”

Whim eagerly crawled off of his bed and joined his mistress’ side. She lightly pulled up by
his collar. “Up.” And Whim stood up without hesitation.

“See? You can follow directions just fine.” She makes him sit on the bed and look up at her.
She looked him in his eyes. She felt in her heart she had to tell him this. “I am your mistress.
I am in control even when you are not. You are my favored thrall. We have become bonded.
When you do not trust yourself, you do not trust me.” She felt their connection deepen as she
stared into his eyes. He finally understood why he needed this training. He needed to trust his
mistress to know her own limits. He was trying to protect her from herself when he didn’t
need to.

“I trust you, Mistress.” He thought. She wanted to kiss him. She needed to. Natiri entered to
take off her uniform and clean it. What a perfect opportunity.

“Natiri, I need to borrow your body for a moment.”

“Eh!?” She felt herself strip out of her clothes with movements that weren’t her own. She
walked towards Whim and kissed him passionately. She felt her body heat up at that. Before
she knew it, her tongue was in the butler’s mouth. The butler held her close, kissing her
passionately. Vebeva moaned softly in the throes of her passion for her favored thrall.

Not even mere weeks ago Natiri would have screamed at being made to kiss this horribly
smug simp. She would have bit her own tongue. She would have spit in his face and yet here
she was, wrapping her arms around him. Her desires aligned with Vebeva’s. The taste of fire
lichen remained spicy upon Natiri’s lips. The heat of their passion swelled as the puppeteered
Natiri jerked Whim off. Vebeva caressed her favored thrall lovingly with her tentacles as she
made Natiri push him onto his back and mount him.

“Oh….! Fuck…!” Natiri moaned. Vebeva groaned softly as she made her tiefling thrall ride
him. She sat herself on his bed, getting comfortable. “Good boy…” The ulitharid started to
sweat with the tiefling, shivering lightly as she used Natiri to fuck Whim silly. Natiri looked
at Whim, biting her lower lip in anticipation. Her mistress was in her mind. Their pleasure
became intertwined, but she had to nail the point home with one last show of her authority.
She’s panting softly as she mentally commands Natiri to slide off of Whim. Natiri positioned
her face near his groin and Vebeva made the tiefling kiss his twitching cock. They became
perfectly still. Vebeva released her with the command to stay still.

She followed it to the letter. Her mind then focused on Whim. “Come. Come now.” Her
instruction sounded as though it were meant for a pet. His will instantly shrunk beneath her
overwhelming command. His seed squirted onto the tiefling’s face, dripping down her chin.
Natiri closed her eyes as Whim made a mess on her. Natiri looked unamused by the semen on
her face when all was said and done.

Vebeva uses telekinesis to pull Natiri’s dress towards her outstretched tentacle and wipes her
cum stained face and Whim with it. “Really!?” Natiri groaned.

“What? You have to wash it anyway.” Vebeva laughed. Natiri resisted rolling her eyes.

“Yes, you’re right.” She took her dress and resumed her task of washing it. She looked back
at Whim who was eagerly cuddling with his mistress, sitting in her lap. “Thank you for your
assistance, Natiri…” Whim said softly. He felt immensely better. For some reason, the sight
made Natiri smile.

“You’re welcome, you smug bastard…” She replied with a softer demeanor. She didn’t get to
cum, but Whim offered to take care of her later, if that was permissible with Mistress, of
course.

“She was a good thrall for me. She may be pleased at her discretion.” Vebeva curled her
tentacles around Whim in a contented manner. Maybe Natiri would take him up on the offer,
after all. He didn’t even get to eat the desert he had made, but it didn’t matter. There was
nothing sweeter than Mistress’ love for him.

“I do believe I owe you some trillimac, Caramyn .” Vebeva told her telepathic penpal.

“ I’m so glad that worked out for you! I look forward to sharing recipes with Whim!”
Caramyn replied. The gnome snuggled with her sleeping husband’s tentacles tiredly.

“Were you asleep?” Vebeva asked.

“I was nodding off, but I don’t mind.” Caramyn assured her.

“That’s alright. I’m going to head off to bed myself.” Vebeva gently put Whim down and
patted his head.
“I’m going to rest now. Goodnight, my good boy…” Vebeva pressed her tentacle to his lips.

“Rest well, Mistress.” As soon as she was gone he pulled the blanket she had touched close,
with a soft smile on his face.
 Burning The Candle At Both Ends
Chapter Summary

Caramyn and Dallimeze play with candle wax and restraints as we learn some details
about Caramyn's backstory.

Caramyn had put her candle making station in the most well ventilated part of the domicile.
Anytime the window was opened, one nearby, if they weren't illithid, would smell a greasy
and unpleasant scent from the street. She added a scented oil to the candles during the
creation process that through a happy coincidence, smelled like maple syrup. There was little
need for lighting in an illithid colony. Most lighting was cleanly provided by bioluminescent
fungi and it was merely there for the sake of thralls who had inferior sight in the dark. Her
candles had a tendency to turn ceilings and walls black with the soot they produced, so thralls
like Whim were left with extra cleaning to do when they were burned.

She had little access to beeswax down in Oryndoll so her candles were made of tallow,
rendered herself in a large pot over 6 hour periods. The rothe fat for making tallow was easily
acquired as suey was fed to thralls of lesser status in the upper ring. It was a stinky process
that her husband thankfully could not smell. She just finished making a skull shaped candle
for a new Abysmal Creed illithid as a "graduation" present, which she made using a deep
gnome's skull as a candle mold.

"At least you were good for something, Ms. Crystalfist." She snickered sinisterly to the
remains of her husband's first affair. She was selecting candles for another "torture
experiment" with her husband. She chose candles in crimson and bright yellow. They would
stand out nicely. Dallimeze was getting himself ready. He had a surprise for her. He clasps an
iron collar around his neck. He took it from a prisoner that wasn't needing it anymore. He
was extremely careful not to misplace the key. He'd never live it down if he couldn't get it off.
It wouldn't be fun trying to get his wife to break the lock.

He was shirtless, with a leather harness over his chest. He wore short leather chaps with no
babackside. "Dalli! Are you ready?" Caramyn calls sweetly to him from the sitting room. He
blushes, nervously hoping she'd like it.

"Coming, dear!" Dallimeze takes a deep breath and presents himself to her. Caramyn's jaw
drops. He moves his tentacles to show off the collar he was hiding. She smiled in delightful
surprise.

“Oh, Dalli. What a bold choice, you filthy pig!” She said with a giggle. She grabs the step
stool from her candle station and uses it to reach his tentacles. “Get on your knees! I want a
good look at you!” Caramyn yanks him down to his hands and knees by his tentacles. The
pathetic illithid whimpers as he gets low to the ground. She moves around him, spending
several seconds admiring his assless chaps. “You must really be excited if you’re presenting
yourself to me like this. I’m going to enjoy marking this pretty purple ass up, Dalli.” She
gave him a playful smack. He jolted slightly at that. She was working him up even more.

"You are exquisite, Dalli. Are you ready to play?" She asked with enthusiasm.

"Yes, honey!" He responded with equal enthusiasm. She grabs him by a tentacle, leading her
husband to The Torture Lab. She carried her step stool under her arm. She had everything
ready. A cool cloth, crag mushroom lotion, water in a bucket case she needed to put out a
fire.

“Now, don’t forget your safe words.” She pulled him close to kiss him. He nodded to her, too
excited to even speak.

“I learned my lesson, I swear!” He confirmed

“Good…” She says to him softly. She takes his tentacle to her mouth, lightly biting it. The
sensation made Dallimeze gasp.

“Oh, fuck…!” He whimpered.

She leads him to a restraint device of her own design. The base consisted of a sturdy wooden
post with metal shackles screwed into the base that secured the wrists and ankles. Adjustable
metal bars, arranged in a vice-like configuration, were intended to hold the victim’s head,
waist, and pin their knees to the post.

Dallimeze allowed Caramyn to secure him into the device. She had to use the step stool to
achieve this. When she was done, he was immobilized. He was in a position where his butt
was sticking out. Without heels, one had trouble standing in it without standing on their
tiptoes. She bound his tentacles in a specialized leather sleeve that held them all in place and
was strapped around his head. Dallimeze wiggled as best he could. The only movement he
could muster was to wiggle his rear a few inches to either side. He couldn’t even turn his
head all the way!
He never felt so vulnerable. He couldn’t even wiggle his tentacles enough to get out of his
bondage sleeve! Caramyn truly was an expert torturer. If she were an enemy shielding herself
from psionics, he'd surely be at her mercy! The fantasy only made him more excited. He had
his own personal torturer, and he couldn’t even show her off to his creed. It was such a
crime.

She walked over to the front of the room, grabbing a thin rattan cane from her supply table.
In her other hand, she grabs a leather flogger. She swings the cane so he can hear it swish in
the air as she walks behind him. Dallimeze’s breathing becomes heavier. “Whenever I was
working with someone new in the Shadow Thieves, I liked to find out what kind of noises
they make.” She says with a grin, alluding to her old job as a torturer. All she did was touch
him with the cane and he let out a tiny moan.

“So worked up over that? I’ll give you something to make noise about.” She smacked him
with the cane, causing Dallimeze to squirm and gasp. She picks up her pace, smacking him
repeatedly with it.

“AAaaagh!!” His cries were gooey as he squirmed. It was all he could do and he loved every
second of it! The cane shaped markings on his ass were pale.

“That’s a difficult position, isn’t it? I know what the pain does to you, Dalli.” Caramyn teased
with an evil little giggle. Dallimeze was panting, unable to respond beyond a mumbled yes.
His mind began to feel emptier as she began to hit him with the flogger. Dallimeze felt her
striking him harder. His cries get louder as his ass cheeks become thoroughly pale. On the
final smack, he screamed as she put her all into it. She puts her “tools” aside and gently
caresses his stinging cheeks. “You’re trembling already, Dalli… We’ve only just begun.” She
makes her voice as deep and husky as she can make it. It sounded menacing as a sweet
bubbly woman turning dark.

Using the step stool she releases him from the device, slowly unscrewing the metal bars.
When he’s free and on all fours so she can reach, she takes off the tentacle restraining mask.
His tentacles were dripping. She turns it upside down to let the excess slime drip out. “What
a mess. I’m always cleaning up after you, aren’t I? What am I going to do with you?” The
gnome teased. Dallimeze was a trembling mess.

“Dalli… Focus on me. Talk to me.” She gently caressed his slimy tentacles, checking on
him.
“I feel… Effervescent. You’re amazing with the way you empty my thoughts. More, please!”
Dallimeze tells her. He was so worked up, he couldn’t even think! Caramyn smiled once she
knew her husband was doing well. She’ll have to play with that device again for sure! She
then grabbed his tentacle, leading him over to the wall. She used her step stool to hook his
collar to the chain on the wall.

“Remember these?” She pushes over the box of old restraints she dug up earlier.

“Oh, so that’s where those went!” Dallimeze says casually. “I like the one that keeps my
wrists behind my back the most.” He eagerly gets his arms into position to be restrained.
Caramyn happily obliged him. Just to ensure that he couldn’t stand, she used leather
restraints that kept him kneeling.

“Oh but how will I keep you from floating away from me? I thought of everything, Dalli.
That extra hook in the wall wasn’t there before, was it?” She teased. Climbing the step stool,
she hooked a section of the chain to it. If he were to levitate, he wasn’t going to get very far.

“Oh, Caramyn! You’re wonderfully horrible!” Dallimeze complimented.

She begins lighting the candles she prepared one by one. She would have her own fun while
waiting for the wax to melt. She approaches Dallimeze once more, teasingly undressing in
front of him. She watches as he pathetically tries to reach for her and touch her with his slimy
tentacles. She kicks her leather panties off and they slap against his face. She giggled at him.
“You look so silly like that, Dalli. You really want to touch me that badly?” She teased.

“Yes, Caramyn! Please!”

“Beg for it.”

“Please let me please you, honey!”

“Let me hear your pathetic voice.”

His cheeks turn pale as he begins to grovel as low as the chain will allow him to. “Please!
Please let me worship your body, my lovely wife! My muse of pain and pleasure!” He
pleaded

“Well… Maybe for just a few minutes…” She smirked. She got close to him. She loved the
feeling of his slimy and warm tentacles on her body. He readily moved in at the chance to
pleasure her. He knew all of her erogenous zones by heart. The way she looked so blissful
when he held her with his tentacles.Sometimes she would bite him, mixing pleasure and pain
to intensify both.
“Oooh, yes! Dalli, right there… This is all your tentacles are good for.” She stuffed her
panties in his mouth. “They exist to be my toys. You’re my toy.” She degrades him. “Be a
good toy and fuck me.” She commanded. Dallimeze eagerly entered her with a tentacle, using
another tentacle to rub her clitoris. “Oh, Dalli! You may be pathetic, but you know how to
please your wife.” She started moaning. He felt so good being as slick as he was against her.
She rubbed his slime onto her perky little breasts. She closed her eyes, relaxing in his
embrace of pleasure.

She truthfully wouldn’t mind if Dallimeze had wanted to dominate her in the same way she
dominated him. She liked pain just as much as she loved to give it, but he took on that role all
day. He was content in his submissive role, and she was happy to make him happy. She
rubbed herself against his tentacles, getting closer and closer to cumming. Just when she
thinks she’s about to climax, she slapped his cheek hard. He was completely snapped out of
her thoughts. He sat there stunned as she climaxed… Without him! She just denied him her
orgasm! He was so stunned, her panties dropped out of his mouth. That was the most evil
and cruel thing she had ever done to him… It was so hot!

As she came down from her afterglow she looked at him. He was still as could be. He was
processing what just happened. “Is there smoke or fire?” She asked.

“Smoke. I liked that a lot, but can we agree to it beforehand from now on? I don’t think I’d
like to be taken by surprise by that again.” He replied.

She rubbed his cheek and kissed it.

“Of course, Dalli. Are you ready for the wax?” She asked him after agreeing to his terms. He
nodded eagerly. She uses her bra as a makeshift blindfold. She then picks up a red candle.
“Ah ah. No peeking through my eyes, Dalli…” She wouldn’t move until he stopped reading
her thoughts.

When he was out of her thoughts, she slowly approached him. His tentacles wiggled in
anticipation as she nudged them out of the way. She drips a large amount of wax onto his
chest. He gasped and cried out. Every single drizzle of hot wax sent him screaming and
squirming. On his chest, his thighs, legs and down his back. “You look so pretty, Dalli. What
a nice color on you!” She giggled.

She then grabbed a lead sprinkler. She had no plans to fill this with molten lead or acid. She
was going to use it for wax. Taking a yellow candle she filled the ladle with wax, and after
reattaching the perforated top half of the sphere she grinned as she shook the handle, aiming a
shower of hot wax at his tentacles. The pain was so intense on his sensitive tentacles, aided
only by his heightened senses of everything that had happened thus far, it created a loop right
back to pleasure. His body shook. He cried out in much the way he would have if Caramyn
had let him feel or orgasm. It was mind blowing!

“Did you just…?” She asked.

“I think so….” He panted in a gooey voice. “Honey… What the fuck did you do to my
brain?” He laughed.

“Just showing you my old work skills. A shame my old guild let me go…” He had rearranged
her memories to make her think she had been fired instead of abandoned. It was nicer that
way.

“Those fools don’t know what they’re missing.” He tells her as Caramyn releases his wrists
and takes off his blindfold. She used the step stool to unchain him from the wall. “I’ll cherish
and appreciate you, even if the entire prime were to turn against you.”

Caramyn smiles as she blows out the candles then grabs a cool cloth to carefully clean the
wax off of him. “I love you so much. I’m glad I married you.”

With her tender touch after everything they’d done, his tentacles curled in a content manner.
It didn’t matter if their marriage was built on a lie he’d accidentally constructed. It was real
enough to him. He was determined to wear those proverbial shackles for the rest of his life.
He’d never ever tell her the truth.

“I love you too, Caramyn. My dear wife…” He leaned down to let her clean him up.

After they had both cleaned up, Caramyn grabbed the crag mushroom lotion and took her
husband to bed. He told her where he put the key to his collar and she unlocked it for him,
putting everything on his night stand. The comforting coolness of damp moss on his skin
made him sigh with relief. Caramyn dutifully rubbed his body down with the lotion. Her tiny
hands delicately massaged it in. Her touch had been so gentle and soothing that Dallimeze
fell asleep. “Dalli…?” She whispered. “Are you asleep?” She spoke up a bit louder. He
grunted affirmatively.

She quietly giggled and pulled his blanket over him. He turned onto his side, grabbing
Caramyn’s little blanket with a tentacle as she got into her tiny dry bed on his bed and pulled
it over her.
“That took a lot out of me.” He admitted. “You rip my worries and my stress right out of
me.” He sleepily wrapped his tentacle around her wrist. She smiled at him.

“I think Loviatar guided me to you. I pray every day that the pain I can give you cleanses
you, my love.”

Caramyn was right on the mark, more than she could ever know…
 Looking For Sanctuary
Chapter Summary

(You) and Addanil find the way to civilization and the path to each other's hearts.

You awoke from your slumber, looking up at the sky. It was dark and full of stars… It was
beautiful. You wondered how Addanil would be able to navigate by them. There were so
many! It was like a scene from one of your paintings… It almost made you want to paint
again. You sat up and looked at Addanil. He was dead asleep. His hat of disguise had fallen
off of his head. You could always tell by the way his tentacles twitched. It was like a sleeping
puppy. You still found it cute. If you had to guess, the tears you both shed took a lot out of
him. You frowned thinking about some of the things you said to him before you had
teleported to this place.

Was it really all his fault? It’s not as if he personally reshaped your memories. What would
you have been turned into if he had been the one to get you instead of Yorix? Would you still
be a painter? Would you have still loved art and music? Could he truly love who you really
are? Did it really matter now?

You couldn’t be alone with your thoughts anymore. You had places to be. You weren’t sure,
but it was anywhere but here. “Psst… Addanil…” You whisper. No response. You nervously
reach out and gently squeeze his tentacle. “Come on. We’re losing starlight. Get up.” You
said softly. That got his attention. He looked at you and slowly pulled his tentacle from your
hand. You couldn’t see him blushing all that well in the dark, but you felt the heat from his
tentacle as he pulled away. He gets up, placing the hat of disguise back on his head.

“Right… I’m going to get to the top of a tree so I can look for some sort of landmark as
well.” You watch him move towards the treeline of the glade.

“How will you tell which way is north?” You asked him.

“It’s simple once you know what you’re looking for… Would you allow me to show you?” He
reached for your wrist in the dark with his hand. He knew he’d need to refrain from using his
tentacles in front of other humanoids if he were to maintain a convincing disguise. There was
no better time than now to practice.
Your wrist where his brand once was is smooth. His heart felt heavy in the absence of it. How
could your bond with him persist when you didn’t belong to him anymore? “You plan to
carry me up there? Well, alright, but you’ll never hear the end of it if you drop me.” You tell
him.

“You catch on faster than ever…” He replied. You gasped in surprise as he pulled you close.
You held onto him, his scent was still distinct, unmasked by his illusion. Sweet with a zing,
reminiscent of maple syrup. He levitates from branch to branch effortlessly. He deposited you
upon a sturdy crux of branches, and looked up to the sky. “The sky has recognizable
arrangements of stars called constellations. Once you see them, you’ll know them. The one
we are looking for is called The Crown of the North. The surface thrall races-”

“You know you can’t call people that anymore, right? You’ll out yourself or look weird at
best.” You interrupted him.

Addanil rolled his eyes. “The surface people call it Mystra’s Star Circle.” He corrects
himself. His eyes find it easily. He decides to practice using his voice box once more. “There
it is.” He pointed it out to you. You see a circular formation in the sky. “The star at the top of
the crown indicates the direction of the North.”

You looked where he directed. You did indeed see a circle. In fact, you couldn’t’ unsee it
once you did.

Addanil saw nothing but trees for miles around until he noticed a stream of smoke, south of
them. “I see smoke. About 166 yards to the south of us….” Addanil pointed out.

“It could be a camp! We’re saved!” You smiled.

“Of fed. Or doomed. That could be anything from goblins to adventurers.” Addanil pointed
out the possible dangers to you, not wanting you to get your hopes up.

Addanil picked you up bridal style and carefully descended from the tree. “Did you see
anything else?” You asked. He quickly shushes you.

“Don’t move… We’re being watched…” He is staring at the treeline to the north of the glade.
You saw the creepiest figure you’d ever seen in the dark. It had the head of a stag and the
body of a man. He stood silent and upright, watching you and Addanil. You slowly reached
for your rapier, only to discover it was gone! The sunlight destroyed the drowcraft weapon!
What a lousy time to be disarmed with only an unloaded crossbow, a flute and a dagger to aid
you.
Perhaps, you thought, this was some sort of guardian. You grabbed Addanil’s arm mentally
pleading with him not to threaten it. You weren’t sure if he was listening. “We mean no harm!
We are merely lost travelers seeking to leave this place!” You tell the strange being. Maybe
the imposing creature was an avatar of Silvanus, or his servant. You could only guess. With
that, almost as if it were satisfied with your answer, it ran into the trees. Addanil cautiously
moved forward after it had gone. He could find no sign of it nor sense it.

You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “So. Are we heading north or
south?” You ask Addanil.

“I’ll take my chances with the camp over whatever that was…” Addanil’s illusory face was in
a tight lipped grimace.

“That’s a very good call.” You agreed, nodding nervously. You stuck close to the merchant as
you began navigating your way towards the direction Addanil saw the smoke in. In your way,
about 200ft in was a 10ft wall of razorvine, which seemed to have no easy way around.

“I could carry you over…” Addanil softly offered.

“I guess it can’t be helped.” You averted your gaze from him as you allowed him to lift you
bridal style.

Being held like this felt strange. It was like you were getting to know him all over again even
though you knew him well. He treated you so differently since you became unthralled. You
wished you could ask him what was on his mind. He barely touched your thoughts since you
got here. Maybe he was just focused on getting out of here. “Addanil?” You softly
whispered. He found a safe spot to place you.

“Yes?” He slowly placed you down. Your eyes were cast down.

“I uh… Sorry about some of the things I said to you earlier…” You told him.

“Which part, specifically? The part about being better without me or the part where you said I
don’t actually love you? Or was it the part where you said you were just a plaything to me?”
Addanil asked. There was an obvious tone of hurt in his voice. He couldn’t suppress it if he
tried.

You frowned at his questions. He looked into your mind as you stood there in the dark
clinging to the wilting daffodil from earlier. Despite it being Fall, those flowers bloomed as if
it were Spring in that glade. What was he sensing? Guilt? Remorse? What was it? He
couldn’t place it.
“Some of those things I said might not have been… Entirely true. My judgment was clouded
by pain. I’m not sure what’s true, but for the parts that are, I forgive you. I have to if we’re
going to make it through this.” You tell him softly.

“You apologize for your words, but not for shooting me with a crossbow? That really hurt,
you know!” Addanil sounded baffled as he scolded you.

“Well, I suppose I should be sorry for that too…” You pouted.

“You suppose?!” He hissed in disbelief. “You suppose. What an interesting alignment of

priorities…” He muttered, shaking his head.

“Focus. You’re the only one who knows where we’re going.” You reminded him.

“Of course I am…” He sighed. He led you along. You started to smell smoke. You heard the
crackle of a fire. He made sure his hat was on securely as they approached. “Stay still. I’ll see
what we’re dealing with.” He mentally commanded. He was certainly a bit sneakier than you.
He approached the camp, using the thick foliage to hide himself.

“Three humanoids. A halfling, a human and a half-elf. They appear to be hunters.” They had
slain a displacer beast earlier in the day, and the remains were at the edge of their camp. You
supposed now would be a good time to say hello. You loaded your crossbow in case they
were hostile. They heard that.

“Who’s there!? Show yourselves!” The human man of Calishite descent grabbed his bow.
Addanil winced. You decided to play the role of the lost person in distress and Addanil
caught onto your train of thought.

“Wait! Don’t shoot!” Addanil called out. “We’re people!” He came out with his hands up.

“Who the bloody hell are you? Where’d you come from?” The halfling asks. You came up
behind him stumbling from the bush.

“Oh thank the gods…” You muttered, unloading the crossbow. “I was worried you were
goblins or something…”

“I am Ames Brightglade. This is… My partner.” Addanil introduced himself by his alias. You
speak on, putting on a convincingly pitious performance.

“We suffered a teleportation mishap from a scroll. We don’t know where we are. We were
robbed by elves! We barely escaped with our lives!” You pleaded with the hunters for help.
“Damn, there’s knife eared spear throwers in these woods now too?” The human man asked.

“Aseir! Tavoril’s mother is a wild elf!” The halfling, Bilban, snapped.

“Oh, shit. No offense, Tavoril.” He sheepishly apologized to his half-elf companion.

“Spear thrower is just fine. There’s no need to add knife-eared to it…” The half elf
grumbled.

“Your casual racial micro transgressions aside, how do we get out of here? Where’s the
nearest civilization?” Addanil asked.

“You don’t wish to stay in our camp? Your traveling companion looks like they need some
rest. They can have some of our sausages if they’re hungry” Tavoril flirted with you. Addanil
didn’t like the way the half-elf looked at you. You were oblivious.

“I haven’t eaten anything in hours. I would appreciate some rations.” You answered, thinking
more about food than the company of these strangers. Addanil moves close to you and wraps
his arm around your waist affectionately. It made you blush. It was a subtle show that the
young man was not to touch you. You wondered what the hell he was doing, but you didn’t
push him away. Did he catch onto something you hadn’t?

“Yes, I errantly ate the last of our rations earlier in the day. I haven’t anything of value to
repay your generosity but anything edible would be highly appreciated. We would like to exit
this forest post haste.” Addanil says. You were disappointed when there were not, in fact, any
sausages to be had. Just some quith-pa, but the dried fruit balls were sweet and delicious
regardless.

“As for how to get out of here, I guess we can’t stop you if you want to keep going through
the woods. You’ve already gotten this far in one piece.” Bilban says. He offered Addanil a
couple torches. “Why do you smell like butter pads??” He was caught off by Addanil’s scent.

“Oh, That’s just his favorite scent from the perfumery of our home! It’s called… What was it
again? Maple Dreams!” You thought of a lie on the spot.

“Is he bathing in it or something?” The halfling quirked a brow.

“Oh, he’s basically obsessed with it!” You laughed.

“It’s an expertly crafted scent, no?” Addanil added on to try and sell your lie.
“A strange choice but I suppose it’s not bad. Who am I to judge? Anyway, keep going south.
You’ll find the trail markers on the trees. You should reach the hamlet of Selpt by first light.
There’s an inn there called Tattercloaks. Someone might be able to help you there.” Bilban
accepts your bizarre explanation and tells you how to go on your way.

“Thank you! You three have been so helpful!” You gave a warm smile. You held onto
Addanil’s arm as you walked away with him into the forest away from their camp. As soon as
you were far away and out of earshot, you turned to him. “What was that about??” You asked
him.

“The half-elf was attempting to offer you a different kind of sausage. I did not take kindly to
that.” He replied mentally to you.

“Oh my… Were you jealous??” Your eyes widened in realization.

“No! Why would I be jealous? It’s not like you’re my thrall. We’re just business partners.”
He lied. You didn’t buy it for a second.

“Don’t lie to me, ‘Mr.Brightglade’. It’s not very healthy.” You called him out on it.

He audibly grumbled. “I was… I’ve no right to be. You are not mine anymore.” He was
having a hard time trying to sort out his own emotions.

It was starting to drizzle. It had become cloudy. “You have a right to think and feel what you
want. I can’t tell you how to feel. That’s your choice.” You told him.

“That’s the problem…” He said.

“Come on, talk to me. I can’t work with you unless we’re on the same page.” You needed to
reach out.

“I can’t put it into words.”

“Show me.” Your request was thoughtless and you didn’t know what you would see. You had
no reason to suspect he would dominate you again if you put down your guard. Deep down,
you still trusted him. You opened your mind. You were hit with a deluge of emotion from
him. Shame, loneliness, fear, uncertainty. As you walked out of the forest, into the clearing,
his words became clear.

“I miss you…”
You suddenly felt your eyes well up with tears, but through your will, you refused to let them
fall. The sky decided it would cry for you. It began to pour. Addanil’s torch was quickly put
out within minutes. You were both soaked. Addanil could see the road. The cool touch of
early rain upon your skin sobered your thoughts and cleared them. It was a temperate rain,
neither warm nor cold. It washed away everything. You could have cast another Tiny Hut, but
you were so much closer to your goal. With no idea how much longer the rain would last, you
and Addanil silently agreed to push on. At least the things in your bag would remain dry.

As you jogged along the muddy road, you saw the silhouette of buildings in the distance. You
found Selpt! Your shoes were muddy. Addanil levitated a few inches off the ground, holding
your hand to catch you in case you slipped. You found the humble inn called Tattercloaks.
Your entry wasn’t quiet or subtle as you closed the door behind you, panting from your jog in
the rain. You both were soaked from head to toe, dripping all over the floor. The innkeeper
groggily awoke from her bedroll behind the counter.

“Apologies for the intrusion at this hour in such dreary weather… Is there a room available?”
You asked, approaching the counter. “We were waylaid by bandits. We desperately need
shelter.” You looked at her with sad eyes. Your soaked clothing and disheveled wet hair made
you look like an abandoned kitten to her.

“There’s a room upstairs, last door on the left. It’s only got one bed though…” She handed
you the key.

“That’s fine. We couldn’t possibly accept your hospitality for free.” You protested softly. “We
managed to save some wealth that they didn’t take, though all we have is gemstones. Would
you please accept it?”

“I’ve got no complaints.” The middle aged human woman admitted. “How much is it
worth?”

“One moment, please.” You returned to Addanil, in his human disguise standing near the
door. Addanil had lied to everyone about being broke and having nothing. You knew he was.
“This malachite is appraised at 10 gold pieces.” Addanil said to you, making sure the
innkeeper heard him. He placed it into your palm to give to the innkeep.

The innkeeper seemed an honest woman and in exchange he gave you 9 gold pieces and 8
silver pieces as your change. It was only 2 silver pieces to stay for the day. “If you want to
dry your clothing, I’ll get you some clean robes. Just a moment, dear.” She entered a storage
room and came out with two spare robes. They weren’t particularly fancy, but they wouldn’t
be naked while their clothing dried. “Just leave your clothes in front of your door. I’ll dry
them by the hearth.” She offered.

“Thank you so much. I’m so sorry for tracking mud into your inn…” You took off your
boots, upon realizing what a mess you were making!

“Oh, don’t worry about it. A little scrubbing will get that right up. Go ahead and get some
rest.” She assured you and “Ames.” She bought your story about being robbed hook line and
sinker. It was a good and cheap little inn.

You needed to get out of these wet clothes the instant you were in the safety of the room. It
didn’t matter if he was in the room. It’s not like he hadn’t seen it before. You pulled off your
clothing, plopping them in a wet heap just outside the door. “You’re going to catch a cold like
that… Come on. Hand them over.”

Seeing you nude again after everything that happened… How could you get undressed in
front of him so easily!? He started to blush at your demand for his clothing. “It’s not like you
haven’t seen it before.” You tell him as he averts his gaze. He reluctantly strips down, but
kept his hat of disguise hung up on a hook, and you plop everything outside of your door in a
sopping wet pile. Shutting the door and locking it, you looked at him. He was close to you,
remaining behind the door to ensure no one would see him.

The realization of your nakedness was starting to settle in. Your cheeks were red. His face
was pale. He missed you? How could that be? “I’m right here, you silly fool. Stop pulling
away from me.” You impulsively pulled his tentacle to your lips and kissed it. He gasped
softly. You pulled him straight into your thoughts. He embraced you and your kisses grew
more and more passionate. He purred pleasurably when you licked his tentacle. He brought
you to the bed, pulling you into his lap. You straddled him, holding onto his shoulders. He’s
wasting no time marking you with his scent as his tentacles slide across your chest and wrap
around your waist. He held you steady as you took one of his tentacles and began to suck on
it.

You moaned softly on it. He couldn’t think. Your thoughts were like a blaze in his mind and
body. It kept him warm. You lean back, grinding yourself against an eager tentacle. Should he
really be doing this? He slowly pulled his tentacle from your mouth. His slime dripped down
your chin. “Don’t stop. Don’t think. You need this. We need this…” You whispered.

Addanil was in no state to argue with that logic.

He doubled down on his efforts, entering you with his tentacles. You moaned softly as he
filled you. He pushed his tentacle back into your whimpering mouth. You threw your head
back, squeaking as he filled you up. To think the spark of your kiss caused a blaze like this. It
only grew hotter and hotter as your pleasure built up. His tentacle in your mouth pulled out to
lightly wrap around your neck. Your eyes rolled back. You shared a state of bliss in which
nothing else mattered right now.

You became quiet, breathing deeply as your body trembled against his. You let out a strained
grunt, failing to keep your voice down as you climaxed together. You still found that noise he
made to be cute… You brought yourself off of him, laying next to him in bed. He settled into
bed, staring at the ceiling. Did that really just happen? “You perplex me…You’re
unaccountable.” He turns his head to look at you.

“You said you didn’t care what the truth was. Did you mean it, even if you can’t figure it out
so easily?” You asked. You knew illithids were frustrated by minds they couldn’t master. By
things they couldn’t understand.

“I did.” He didn’t hesitate to answer. “I knew what I was asking for wouldn’t be easy… I only
hope I can succeed. My survival may depend upon it.”

He was at least honest, albeit it sounded a bit cold. You couldn’t fault him for that.

“As long as you’re willing to work with me, I’ll do the same for you… Deal?” You
proposed.

“I believe we have an agreement.” He replied.

 And Then Plans Formed
Chapter Summary

Madalyn hears an interesting rumor from Zinnia that may be the key to them leaving
Waterdeep.
Geddask and Madalyn eat soup.

Overall a very wholesome chapter, I hope.

Madalyn entered The Yawning Portal, keeping an eye out for her client. Geddask’s
combusting caltrops were finished and they were quite satisfied with the results. When
dumped from their dispenser, the lighting mechanism would automatically light the wicks,
and over the course of up to 16 seconds, they start to sparkle. The sudden light effect throws
off foes and can set fire to things. They were honestly one of their favorite inventions to work
on. Zinnia approached Madalyn, waving her over to her table in the corner. “Hey! Over here!
Madalyn, was it?” The rogue had a bright smile on her face.

The wizard seated herself at the table. It was just Zinnia. “Don’t worry, Jash isn’t here to
spout any stupid comments. Arendil is keeping him out of trouble." The rogue assured her.
"You got my order?"

"I do. Geddask was quite pleased with the results." Madalyn responds. She pulls out the
launching device and bag of 100 caltrops. Zinnia whistled in an impressed manner.

"So what's that for?" She pointed to the boxy looking crossbow.

"Well rather than light one at a time, Geddask wanted you to be able to use them as caltrops.
It does the lighting for you in batches of 20." Madalyn explains. "It has an 80% success
rate… In other words, some of them might be duds, or simply fail to spark. If they don't, they
still work as normal caltrops." Madalyn felt it important to cover any drawbacks to avoid an
angry customer later.

"That's fine. I knew I was asking for something experimental. I have a hunch your lover
knows what they're doing. They seem capable." Zinnia winked. Madalyn chuckled a bit
awkwardly. She couldn't believe the rogue was so casual about it. Maybe there were more
people like that.

"Yes, they can certainly put their mind to anything they seek to achieve." She subtly played
along. Zinnia gave her the agreed upon payment. 75 gold.

"Anyway! I got them a little something extra. Consider it a tip. It's under the table." Zinnia
says. Madalyn notices a burlap sack. She picks it up and discreetly looks at it's contents. A
pickled brain!? She quickly closes it.

"Where did you get this??" The wizard whispered.

"Don't worry about it!" Zinnia replied cheerfully.

"I'm very worried about it. Is this 'Ethically sourced'?" She pushed for an answer.

"Yes. Some random drow from Undermountain. Nothing to worry about." The rogue said.
"It's my way of supporting a local business."

"One hell of a show of support." Madalyn gave a bemused smile. "Geddask and I are thinking
about moving…" She softly announced.

"It's our fault, isn't it?" Zinnia frowned.

"Your party's actions were the catalyst but let's not delude ourselves here. It probably would
have happened eventually." The wizard admitted. She didn't want her beating herself up over
it. "I just want to go somewhere where Geddask can… Be themselves. They deserve better. I
want to give them freedom." She hoped the rogue could understand.

"That's certainly a feeling… It reads like one of Arendil's romance novels about runaway
elven lovers." Zinnia smirked. No wonder he was so fast to pity Madalyn. "I heard an
interesting rumor that you might find useful."

Madalyn perked up. "There are said to be ships in this city's very harbor that sail the stars. I
think it was called Spelljammer? I haven't a clue what could possibly be out there, so it's an
unknown frontier to me. I also don't know which ship it is or if it actually exists. I heard the
harbor workers mention it once on a job at the docks." Zinnia shares what she knows.
"I see… How willing would you be to investigate? I'll give you 100 gold for information.
Half up front for accepting." Madalyn proposed.

"A full refund for this plus profit? Hell yes, I'd be dumb not to accept." Zinnia said. "I'm sure
Arendil would have no problem helping you out either. He's good at asking the right
questions." She assured the wizard.

"Thank you for being so open minded about all this. It means a lot." Madalyn said. She didn't
keep many people close to her. Maybe adventuring into the unknown wouldn't be so bad.

"Don't worry about it. Do you want me to stop by your home when I've gathered your
information?" The rogue asked. "Don't worry. I'll be sure to knock." She joked.

"That would be fine. With the caveat the dragonborn is not invited." Madalyn confirmed. "He
really traumatized Geddask to the point of nightmares." The wizard frowned.

"That bad?? I'm so sorry. Jash tends to have that effect on his foes. When they live that is…"
Zinnia apologized. Sharing a bed with Geddask has been a very interesting challenge for
Madalyn. They were still finding the balance of keeping her dry and keeping him
moisturized.

"I hope to speak with you again soon. Thanks for the… Extra payment. I think they'll
appreciate it." Madalyn bid farewell to the rogue. She quickly returned home, eager to
discuss her new knowledge with Geddask.

She returned to her darkened home, loit only by sparsely placed continual flame spells. The
air smelled like chicken soup. Had Geddask found her recipe and decided to make it? They
weren't on the ground floor so she peeked downstairs to see them at their work table, making
some caltrops for themselves.

"I've returned." She announced. "I may have made a deal without consulting you."

"Gond's hammer, Madalyn, what did you get up to??" Geddask asked. "What did you do with
our money?"

They asked, reading her thoughts briefly.

"I merely paid for the seeking of information. Do you know anything about Spelljammer?
Ships that sail the stars?" She asks.

“It sounds vaguely familiar… My people once traveled the multiverse in flying ships called
nautiloids. Do you have evidence to suggest that a similar vessel visits the harbor?” They
pondered.

“I don’t think Zinnia was pulling my leg. She heard about it from dockworkers.” Madalyn
replies.

“So you think leaving Toril entirely is the best course of action? It all sounds like a radical
conclusion…” Geddask sounded unsure. “We have no idea what’s out there.”

“Maybe not, but where’s your sense of wonder? Aren’t you at least the slightest bit curious?”
She asked.

“First you say you want to give me the world, now you want to give me the stars and beyond
too.” They were utterly bemused by how quickly this was snowballing into something
unexpected.

“You’re unsure… It was kind of stupid to chase wild rumors, wasn’t it?” She frowned. She
started to feel anxious. Was she pushing them too hard? What if they had nothing to show for
her search for information?

“We never agreed on where we would go. You merely said ‘Somewhere far away’. I can’t
fault your line of thinking at all, as that is indeed, very far away.” Geddask tells her. They
stood from their work bench and pulled her into a hug. “I’d sail away with you, but how am I
going to get anything to eat? It’s not like I can treat the crew like a buffet…” Geddask stood
back, rubbing the back of their head shyly.

“Oh! That’s right! Uh, Zinnia gave me this…” She pulled out the pickled brain from its
burlap sack. “She said don’t worry about it!” Madalyn laughed.

“Then I won’t worry about it. Speaking of food…” Their tentacles curled as if in an amused
smile. “I’m unsure if you noticed but I made your favorite soup. I hope I did it correctly. I’ve
never cooked before.” They fiddled with their tentacles as they spoke.

“I smelled it when I entered… It smells wonderful, Geddask. Did you follow the recipe?”
She confirmed.

“To the letter.”

“Then it should taste fine.” She chuckled. “I appreciate it.” She kissed their cheek. They
never bothered to try the foods that humanoids tasted. In Oryndoll they’d always thought
themselves above such comforts. They didn’t need them.
Madalyn changed that perception. Life was becoming one big experiment for them. “Would
you mind if I joined you for dinner?” Geddask asked. It wasn’t as if they couldn’t eat
chicken. It had plenty of protein for them. They had to supplement their bodies with
something between eating brains. She had usually gone to the butcher for various animal
organs which she swore she fed to her “pet cat”.

“I wouldn’t mind… I’m actually curious. If we should share the sensation of touch, what else
could we end up sharing?” Madalyn pondered. Geddask caught on to her train of thought.

“One could postulate that we could link in other ways? I’d be willing to test that theory for
evidence.” They agreed to be part of this experiment. The two of them went upstairs and
Madalyn went into her kitchen where the soup was kept warm in a cauldron. She got two
wooden bowls, filling them with soup from a ladle. She made sure that Geddask’s bowl had
plenty of chicken in it. When she returned to the dining room, she finds that Geddask had lit a
candle.

“Setting a romantic atmosphere, Geddask?” Madalyn teased.

“I thought you’d appreciate a little more light.” They blushed. Just because they lived their
life in darkness, it didn’t mean that Madalyn had to. Her human eyes weren’t like theirs. She
sacrificed so much light in her life for them.

“Madalyn. Why did you rescue me on the day that we met?” They asked. They had to
understand why she would go so far for them. They’ve only known each other for a handful
of months.

Madalyn paused after placing down the bowls of soup. “Hmm…” She’s thinking about it.
“Honestly? Curiosity. My life was horribly boring…” She admitted.

“Because you were bored??” Geddask’s tentacles wriggled in confusion, before settling in a
stoic pose. “My hypothesis that humans will pack bond with nearly anything just gained new
evidence…”

“I guess you have a point…” Madalyn sits down. “You don’t look at a fluffy little kitten and
feel an urge to hold it?”

“Not really, no.” Geddask admitted. “I feel many urges with you, however…” They
admitted.
“I don’t think it’s hard to guess what those urges are…” Madalyn smirked. Geddask covered
their face with their tentacles at her lewd joke. They couldn’t speak for several moments.

“Would you please try the soup now…?” They finally spoke. If she kept teasing them, they
wouldn’t be able to eat.

“Alright. I’ll stop teasing you.” She smiled softly. She takes a spoonful of her soup and tries
it. “You did quite well. It’s good. A bit salty though.”

“The recipe said salt to taste! I didn’t know how much one would need to taste…” Geddask
laughed awkwardly. “I just made an educated guess!”

“Can you taste it?” Madalyn asked.

“I do. How would one describe it? It’s pleasant. Warm…”

“Savory?” Madalyn finishes that thought for them.

“Yes. One could make that association.” Geddask agreed. They looked at their bowl. How
were they going to eat it without making a mess? They take their bowl in their tentacles and
begin to suck the liquid and chicken out of the bowl. Madalyn giggled at their unique
method.

“What?” They stared at her, wondering why she was laughing.

“Nothing… It’s just… Oddly cute.” She blushed, turning her eyes away to keep them from
getting uncomfortable with her staring.

“Not only will humans pack bond with nearly anything, they will find a way to perceive it as
‘cute’ as well…” Geddask mused. Madalyn continued eating her soup.

“I suppose I can’t deny that…” She thought about all the things she found cute about them.
She knew full well they could hear her. The way they perceived everything with analytical
wonder. The way Geddask’s tentacles wiggled when they took off their mask and when they
hummed a song in the bath.

“I do not fully understand this concept yet, but it brings me comfort to know that you find my
presence to be ‘cute’...” They put their now empty bowl down.

“What do I make you feel?” Madalyn asked.

“Warmth. Awe. Bemusement. This ‘love’ emotion is hard to describe but it’s… A pronounced
feeling above all else.” They replied.

Madalyn reaches her hand across the table and holds onto the illithid’s hand. “No matter what
happens, You’re no longer on your own. Let my magic be your shield and shelter. I want to
be your safety.” She wouldn’t leave them to die alone again.

No one had ever said such things to them and yet it was a touching sentiment.

“And I shall be your joy and laughter.”

 Trezzir Gets Schooled
Chapter Summary

Magic lessons go awry.

“I have to go to a school of magic??” Trezzir’s tentacles writhed in uncertainty at being in an

academic setting among the thrall races.

“Students get free room and board if it’s available. In addition, spells from your chosen
school cost half as much. It will be harder to learn stronger spells or skills until you pick a
school to enroll with.” Welvyr informed.

“Well I won’t say no to free and discounted… Anything is better than this shoddy inn.”
Trezzir pondered. Welvyr grinned.

“That’s the merchant’s spirit! Shall I briefly explain what each school of magic deals with to
help you make an informed decision?” Welvyr informed.

Trezzir stroked his tentacles thoughtfully. “It wouldn’t hurt to know more. You explained
enchantment and it sounded fascinating. I’ve seen the power of evocation by our own hands
as well.”

“There aren’t any bad choices. Except transmutation. Unless you want to turn a block of
wood into silver and scurry out of town before you get caught. All the rest will offer what
you desire. Evocation is the blunt hammer of magic. It’s neither subtle nor elegant. At times
imprecise, but when many problems are nails…” He starts off.

“It suits you, Welvyr. It is indeed a powerful tool.” Trezzir agreed.

“Abjuration focuses on magic that banishes, protects and blocks. If you wish to delay the
inevitable rather than making a positive assertion of your power, then it works fine for what it
does. I personally couldn’t see myself cowering behind wards.” Welvyr says.

“Even after the injury you almost died from?” Trezzir asked. Would things have been
different if he could have protected Welvyr?

“I tire of living my life in fear.” Welvyr said bluntly. In fear of what? Was Trezzir one of
those fears?
“What of Divination?” Trezzir asked to keep the lesson going.

“The skills of a diviner are sought by royalty and commoners alike. One in this school
masters spells of discernment, remote viewing, supernatural knowledge, and foresight. You’ll
never be caught unaware of who or what is in a room if you use those spells efficiently.”

“That does sound very appealing…” Trezzir admitted. “What of the next school?”

"Since you know of evocation and enchantments, Illusions deal with spells that befuddle the
mind and can make the impossible seem real. Unlike a microcosm, while impressive, you can
control more fully what your audience perceives. It deals in deception. Ah, but I don't recall
your spellbook having illusions…" Welvyr explained.

"I'll consider it an investment then." Trezzir says.

"From what you said of transmutation, it's a school of altering the state of matter?"

"How quickly you catch on! That's correct! Spells such as Polymorph are transmutation
spells." Welvyr affirmed.

"I think you forgot one. Conjuration, I believe?"

"I think I would like to show you rather than tell. You seem to be a great visual and hands-on
learner. Could you move by the bed?" The drow offers.

"You're going to cast it on me??" The illithid's eyes widened.

"It's how males in Sorcere learned many spells. I will not harm you. Have I done you wrong
thus far? Will you extend your trust to me as your teacher?" Welvyr asked.

Aside from the fear he experienced with the bone naga, Trezzir had no reason to doubt the
drow wizard. They'd been making progress so far. He moved to stand by the side of the bed,
facing Welvyr with his back towards the bedding.

"This won't hurt?" Trezzir asked.

"I actually found it… Enjoyable when I partook in this lesson. You'll feel no pain, I assure
you. Please stay perfectly still. You may close your eyes if you find yourself too anxious. I'll
count to three so you won't be caught unaware." Welvyr reassured Trezzir. The illithid closes
his eyes, taking his advice.

"Alright. I'm ready."

"One… Two… Three! Sie Vlixem Atsu." Welvyr had cast Web! Trezzir found himself
firmly stuck to the bed. He wiggled his body trying to release himself, to no avail.

"Ack!" He gurgled in surprise. Drow and webs… Of course.

"Conjuration deals strictly with the creation and summoning of matter and creatures, such as
this web, from the weave. Web is perfect for capturing weak and small creatures." Welvyr
explained. "Are you unharmed?" He asked.

"I am not hurt. I hope you're not calling me weak because these webs are remarkably
strong!" The truth was that Trezzir's efforts were indeed pitiful. "How long does this spell
last… ?"

"I wouldn’t dream of it, Trezzir. This spell lasts up to an hour if I focus on it." Welvyr replied.
He moved closer to inspect his handiwork. The way Trezzir squirmed against the bonds
pitifully awakened a feeling in him he'd forgotten. It was far more enjoyable than he
remembered. He was glad his robes were so loose.

His breathing was getting slightly heavier as he continued his lesson. "Some spells require
you to concentrate on them to keep their magic active. If you fail to maintain your
concentration, the spell ends. You can't concentrate on two spells at once, and getting injured
while concentrating on a spell has a chance of breaking your concentration.”

Trezzir felt vulnerable in this state. Stuck and unable to move. Trapped by his own thrall. “Is
this another test you drow go through?” What was on Welvyr's mind? Did he have to try and
break his concentration? He looked into his thoughts, unsure if he'd encounter a lie from his
ring or not.

“Something like that.” Welvyr replied. He doesn’t bother to hide his arousal. It was a feeling
Trezzir recognized well. It was an open secret that Zusrall and Vizaness among others had a
reputation for giving more well to do illithids in the colony hierarchy “personal access” to
their prize thralls. Zusrall’s thrall especially had an eagerness for being used by illithids.

Trezzir’s face turned pale. His cheeks started to feel warm. “ Welvyr…! I can’t defile you!”
He protested against those thoughts. “You’re my teacher! You’re…” He trailed off. For some
reason he was struggling to say the word “thrall”. Was he the one being defiled instead? How
could that be? That’s impossible!
“Defile? Is that what you call your sexual activities at The Breeding Pen? It’s alright if
someone else used them first? How unhealthy…” His own thrall was preaching to him about
his recreational habits?! “After everything that was done to me by my peers, I don’t meet
your definition of defilement? Is my mind not broken enough for you to fuck?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Trezzir’s cheeks turned practically white from blushing.

“If you want me to release you, all you have to do is ask.” Welvyr reminded him.

“I know that!” Trezzir snapped.

“So you stayed still and listened to me like a good student of your own volition…” Welvyr
teased.

Trezzir grumbled. “What do you even know about healthy relationships?” He turned his head
to look at the drow wizard.

“I suppose not much… I thought we could unravel that mystery together.” Welvyr never
released his hold on that spell. "You aren't defiling me, Trezzir. You’re redeeming me."

Trezzir silently reached for Welvyr with his tentacles. The drow wizard carefully and nimbly
brought himself on top of Trezzir, straddling the illithid. It was clear he’d been subject to this
spell often with the way he navigated himself to avoid getting stuck. He allowed one of
Trezzir’s tentacles to slide into his hand. His fingers deftly traced over the soft and moist
texture before he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Oh fuck…” Trezzir gasped in a soft gooey voice.

“Oh? Is that an erogenous zone for you?” Welvyr gave a smug smile. “Let’s see if you can
guess where mine are. Let’s see if the student can break the teacher’s concentration.” He
challenged, slowly releasing his grip on Trezzir. “I’ll make this test a little easier for you,
since you’re in a bit of a… Sticky situation.” He joked.

Welvyr pulled off his robes and removed his loincloth, taking care not to get them stuck in
the webbing. The drow was completely nude on top of him. Trezzir tried to remember where
it felt good to touch the thralls he’d spent time with. He had the horrific realization that he
hadn’t really been paying attention at all! His mind went blank and he couldn't remember!
His tentacles made an unsteady advance toward Welvyr. Why was he so nervous!? “It’s
alright, Trezzir. This won’t count towards your final grade” He placed both his hands on
Trezzir’s tentacles, genty pulling two of them to his body. Trezzir realized Welvyr wasn’t
wearing the ring of false thoughts. When did he take it off? All his honest thoughts were open
to him.
“Do you really want this, Welvyr?” He felt like he had to ask. He wasn’t sure why.

“You’re the only one who ever asked… I do.” Welvyr affirmed.

There was nothing left to hold Trezzir back. From his bound position he started paying
attention to where his tentacles were going. He lightly traced his tentacles over the lightning
scar on Welvyr’s chest. At least it didn’t hurt anymore. Welvyr boldly took one of Trezzir’s
tentacles and began to sensually lick it. Trezzir moaned softly. The only thrall he had brave
enough to do that was Zusrall’s! Welvyr takes one of his pupil’s tentacles, slowly guiding it to
his ear. Trezzir never knew elven ears were sensitive but knew from his thoughts what the
drow wanted. He gently used his tentacle to experiment with the sensation until he found
himself massaging Welvyr.

The drow sighed blissfully at the sensation. It wasn’t as strange as he thought it would feel. It
was slick but warm. Try as he might to maintain concentration on the webbing, he couldn’t
and the webbing faded. He found himself on top of Trezzir, against his bare slimy skin.
“Awwh…” He whined playfully. “I was hoping my will power would have been just a bit
stronger. I’ll have to work on that.”

The idea that Welvyr would try harder to keep him bound made his entire face pale. “What a
strange sensation this is… Why do you enjoy being bound?” Trezzir boldly asked.

“Simple, really… Nobody expects much of you when you’re bound. It made me feel safe
once… It just feels good.“ He admitted. Safe… He wanted Welvyr to feel safe.

“Do you want me to restrain you?” Trezzir asked.

“I’d like that very much.” Welvyr responded. When his master was asleep, he would
stealthily and loosely tie his wrists together and masturbate. Trezzir had never once caught
him.

“Do you still have that rope in your bag? Show me how to tie knots.” He did indeed have that
same rope he kept in his room “for storage”. Welvyr slides off of Trezzir and retrieves the
rope. He handed it to him eagerly and allowed him to read his mind to heed his mental
instructions.

“You’re so good at giving directions…” Trezzir praised. He was doing a fine job of tying him
up. Soon, Welvyr was in a basic rope harness with his hands behind his back. He pulled
Welvyr back into his lap, keeping a link with his thoughts to make sure he was comfortable.
He remembered now that thralls usually liked it when he touched the places between their
legs. What was the word for this organ again? “Would you mind if I touched your penis?”

It was the most alien manner in which he’d ever been asked a question. It was certainly a
sentence he’d never heard before. “By all means, go ahead.” He encouraged. The perception
of a tentacle holding onto the rope in the back for extra security only heightened his arousal.
He invited and accepted the sensation of a tentacle wrapping around his cock. The urge to
call him master was getting further and further away. He remembered well that he wanted to
be called by name. There wasn’t a better opportunity than now to practice. “Oh, Trezzir…
Trezzir, that feels…”

“So good…” The illithid finished his sentence for him. Welvyr shivered and relaxed in the
illithid’s grip. He was bound and secured. He had nothing left to think about but pleasure.

“You really are a hands-on learner, Trezzir. It looks like our lesson has changed subjects.
Keep going and you’ll get some extra credit.” Welvyr teased. Was it normal to desire
impressing one’s thrall? Trezzir decided he didn’t care. He wanted that extra credit, even if it
was seemingly meaningless.

Trezzir continued his ministrations, holding onto the drow. He pressed a tentacle against his
lips, allowing him to kiss, lick and suck on it. “Hrrgh… Someone has a bit of an oral fixation,
don’t they? ” Trezzir teased. Welvyr gave a muffled “mhm”, nodding eagerly as they sucked
on it.

Trezzir felt his fellow wizard’s pleasure building up. He wasn’t defiling him. He was going to
please Welvyr. No one else could compare. It was the single best experience of this illithid’s
life. He stroked him eagerly, focusing on stimulating Welvyr in mind and body. He’d never
worked someone up to this point on his own before. He’d never been the one to cause his
partner to cum. All he had to do was keep going. It felt so simple with his teacher’s guidance.
Their breaths became shaky. Welvyr could normally keep this part so quiet, no one would
ever hear, but this time his orgasm was intense. His voice strained in a soft squeak until it
grew in volume to a muffled cry of pleasure. His seed shot onto Trezzir’s stomach. He leaned
against Trezzir who held him close as his tentacles untied him.

“That was… Certainly enlightening.” Trezzir said, sounding dazed.

“You’ll earn excellent marks from me.” Welvyr smirked before kissing their cheek.
“When you’re ready, we’ll go to your chosen school and get you enrolled. I have no doubt
you’ll succeed.” The drow wizard assured him. He couldn’t explain why, but Welvyr’s praise
for him felt genuine. It was as if he wasn’t merely saying it because he was a thrall… It truly
made him feel good.

“Thank you. In no small part thanks to you.” Trezzir held onto the drow wizard, not wanting
to immediately let go. It was a satisfaction he’d never had before. He made Welvyr feel
loved.
 I Want to Stay With You
Chapter Summary

Raphraxus makes a hasty decision for love.

Raphraxus felt the warm sensation of humanoid hands on his tentacles, trying to wake him.
Without hesitation he pulled it close, wrapping his arms and tentacles around the visitor in a
full body hug. He wore no shirt to bed, wearing loose comfortable pants. “Syllan…”

“I hope I’m not ruining your sleep.” The half-elf mentally replied.

“You’re worth losing sleep over… You couldn’t sleep either, could you?” Raphraxus gently
placed a pillow under his lover’s head and pulled the blanket over them.

“No… I missed you too much.” Syllan admitted.

“Syllan, we talked about this… You need a full night’s rest. Your party won’t like it if you’re
not able to help them.” Syllan softly scolded him.

“It’s fine. We’ve stopped over in Reddansyr. Which means I have plenty of time.”

“I know. You know I’ve been scrying on you. I’ve heard that town contains good sources of
lore for such people like yourself.” He commented. “ I think I know how to get you to sleep.”
Raphraxus teased.

“Hm?” Syllan made a soft noise of curiosity. Raphraxus pulled away the covers. Feeling
more awake, he pinned the half-elf down, teasingly tugging at his clothes with his tentacles.
Syllan gasped softly.

“You left me waiting for you for days… You know what I intend to do. Don’t play coy. I know
you too well. I can sense your every move before you even make it.” Raphraxus’ voice in his
mind was dark and sultry.

Syllan gave Raphraxus his best struggle. He loved the feeling of tugging against his tentacles,
trying to get free. The feeling of being trapped and helpless under the ulitharid’s powerful
form worked him up. “I’ll be sure to wear you out. It doesn’t seem like you can put up much
of an effort anyway.” Raphraxus teased. “You know what I want from you.”
Raphraxus wanted him to beg for it with his voice. “Please…” Syllan whispered.

“I can’t hear you. Speak up, darling.”

Syllan felt powerful tentacles tightening around his arms and pulling up his tunic. Maybe he
could find the strength and courage to be just a bit louder for him.

"Please! Bloody hell, you're such a tease!" Syllan groaned. His tentacles were as dexterous as
they were strong. He begins pulling Syllan's clothes from his body. He was wearing loose
robes with nothing underneath.

"Good boy… That wasn't so hard, was it?" Raphraxus praised. "You look so cute like this.
Trembling, naked and helpless…" The way the ulitharid spoke to him like a predator to prey
only further excited Syllan. "I know exactly what makes you tick. What makes your brain
release its endorphins…"

Syllan squirmed, trying to get Raphraxus to touch him more. He was hard. He ached with
need. He also knew Raphraxus needed his sleep. They'd only move forward if he was a good
boy and used his words. "You're the only one who can now." He admitted softly.

The first time they met, Syllan escaped because Raphraxus decided to play with his food. As
soon as he learned to teleport, he returned even at the risk of being eaten or worse. They'd
been keeping each other a secret ever since. "Oh really? Well, no surprise there." Raphraxus
chuckled. The sorcerer would get exactly what he desired. Raphraxus’ tentacles began
touching him intimately, preparing him for what was to come. Syllan whimpered and moaned
softly, feeling slimy warmth coiling around his member and teasingly entering him. “You
don’t have anymore of that goblin jelly stuff do you…?” Syllan mentally asked him.

“I do not. Even if I did, you’d never go to sleep if I gave it to you. Come now. You can work
up the nerve to speak to me. I know you can.” Raphraxus replied, encouraging him.

Syllan squirmed against him. Raphraxus was pushing him to be more vocal. "Wh-what if you
make me too noisy? Aren't you worried about waking Ormebela up?" He whimpers.

"Not at all. She can sleep through anything. It's a blessing and a curse." Raphraxus
responded. Much to his chagrin, the dwarf only woke up when she was ready to be woken.
“Do you want to be noisy? I won’t judge you.” Raphraxus was the only being in his life that
knew everything about him, and cherished him despite his flaws. Sure, he had friendship in
his adventuring party, but no one has the allure that Raphraxus had to him. None of them
knew who he really was. Syllan looked at the powerful aberration holding him and nodded
eagerly. “Yes. Make me noisy… Please.” Syllan softly pleaded.

He pulled Syllan into a piledriver position, using his tentacles to help secure the half elf
comfortably. "Oh, shit…" Syllan gasps.

“Be careful what you wish for… I’m in a very generous mood to give it to you.” Raphraxus
began pushing his girthy and thick tentacle inside of Syllan. He grunts pleasurably as Syllan
moaned. A tentacle grabbed Syllan’s wrist, pulling his hand to his cock.

“Play with yourself. You don’t expect me to do everything myself, do you? Let loose. Feel
good.” Raphraxus’ demands made his body feel hot. Syllan caved to them instantly and
began stroking himself as Raphraxus used him. Nothing held him back any longer. “Oh,
Raph… Gods above! You’re amazing!” Syllan groaned. Every thrust pushed away his
anxieties, his worries and fears. After hard days on the road, he finally got to let go.

“I know, my good boy… Hah… Rrgh… I know… But I couldn’t do it without you.” He
wanted to remind him just how special he truly was. He was no thrall. He was worthy, no
matter how much he played into the sorcerer’s degradation kink.

“Oh fuck! More!” His other hand was holding onto one of his tentacles, squeezing it gently
as he felt it pulse and slide against his palm. The sounds of heavy breathing fervent desire
filled the room.

“I’m getting close! I’m getting close, Raphraxus!” Syllan’s voice grew desperate. One last
anxious thread that needed to be cut away.

“Then come.”

At his suggestion, Syllan exploded, splattering his seed all over his own chest. “Ohh fuuuck!
Oh fuck!” His eyes rolled back. Raphraxus’ grip began to loosen as they shared their orgasm.
Raphraxus slowed to a stop. He gently set Syllan down. He looked around for something to
use to clean up before he settled on pulling off his own pants and using them to clean Syllan
off. He was too sleepy to get anything else.

He tosses the pants to the floor. “Would you… Like to sleep with me this time? If I can’t stay
awake, then I would like you to rest with me.”
“I’m too worn out to crawl into the cage anyway.” Syllan laughed. Raphraxus pulled Syllan’s
blanket out of his cage so he could comfortably lay on it and stay dry. He picks Syllan up,
holding him in his arms, he uses his tentacles to lay out the blanket.

Syllan lovingly kisses his cheek as Raphraxus sets him down once more. He levitated himself
into bed and pulled the blanket back over them. “Is Yar’rel being nicer to you? I’ll eat her if
she’s not.” Raphraxus makes idle pillow talk with the half elf.

“Don’t make jokes like that. I’ll make her be mean to me just so you’ll be with me…” Syllan
pouted playfully.

“Who said I was joking…?”

“She keeps trying to throw away my fake cologne.” He laughed. “You stink like ghaik! Stop
wearing that!” He tries to imitate her harsh voice in a mocking manner. Raphraxus loved
hearing his voice. He’d keep him talking as long as he could stay awake.

“The human wizard seems like a good if reclusive friend to you. I’m glad you have someone
who treats you well when I can’t…”

“Phoebe? Yeah. She’s nice…” Syllan yawned. The two allowed themselves to drift deeper
into sleep as they held each other close…

After several hours, Raphraxus was once again awakened by Syllan. “It’s time for me to
go…” Syllan told him softly. Raphraxus could sense his sadness. He sat up and held him
close, letting Syllan kiss him softly. “I’ll see you soon. Instans E- ” Before Syllan could
finish speaking the spell, Raphraxus pushed a tentacle against his lips.

“Wait!”

“But you have to-”

“I don’t give a damn about them. Take me with you!”

“...Are you…Really?? You mean it?”

“If you ask again, I’ll change my mind.”

“You should probably put some pants on first. I don’t think we should leave Ormebela behind
either…” Syllan pointed out.
“... Those are both very good points, but if she’s not awake, she’s getting left behind.”
Raphraxus rushed to get a clean pair of pants on.

Syllan picked up the dirty pair of pants and tucked them away. It was best to leave as little
evidence behind as possible. “Ormebela, Get up. We’re leaving. If you’re not dressed in 5
minutes, you’re getting left behind.” Raphraxus tells his thrall. Ormebela was already awake.
“Where are we going?”

“... Reddansyr.” He replied, taking his most absolute necessities, including a couple of
preserved brains, and wrapped them up in Syllan’s blanket as a hobo sack, tied around his
extraction staff. Ormebela joined Raphraxus and Syllan into the sitting room.

“This is crazy, Raphraxus. Don’t beg me for help if ye get slain by the frog!”

“I’ll protect you…” Syllan looked at Raphraxus. He wanted to stay with him more than
anything, even if he knew it would be risky.

“I would rather die with you than live without you.” Raphraxus couldn’t handle Syllan’s
absence any longer. He began to feel like a thrall to his own colony. The 10 minutes a day he
scried upon him weren’t enough anymore.

That was all Syllan needed to hear. He knew Raphraxus truly wanted this. Thankfully he was
able to get his own room at the Giant’s Folly, so if his adventuring fellows didn’t think to
pester him for some reason, they would have time to adjust and think of a plan.

“Instans Eo Secta!”

Despite the sunlight filtering into the room, Raphraxus wouldn’t show that it bothered him.
They had to think of their next plan of action. He knew there’d be hell to pay for what he’d
just done. For the price, it was excellent and expensive.
 Tentacle Soup
Chapter Summary

Erux gets to know Soup more intimately.

Quil and Ril weren’t familiar with Soup, so before getting their food to eat, Erux would first
have to introduce her to his personal tribe members. He hoped the twins wouldn’t reject her.
Quil had food aggression issues and a new goblin encroaching on her space could be a
detriment to a pregnant goblin. A goblin able to cook however, might counteract this. Erux
and Malva led Soup into their home. She looked around. It was cavernous but cozy. Erux’s
home had resonance stones that made his home feel welcoming, especially to a goblin. The
resonance stones had been made by Erux himself. One felt safety and satiation here.

Quil and Ril immediately noticed the new goblin and approached them. “Quil, Ril. This is
Soup. She’s going to live with us now.” Erux introduced her.

“She makes yummy soup!” Malva quipped. Ril loved soup on the rare chances she got to eat
it.

“I don’t like soup!” Quil grumbled. “The food! Not the goblin!” She quickly clarified.

“I can make stew too, and rothe. I made biscuits once. The humans showed me how.” Soup
tells Quil. All of Soup’s cooking skills were taught to her by humans. Erux had a feeling
Tellexa’s humans would be a good influence on his tribe. They were picking up skills they
otherwise wouldn’t!

“That sounds good but can you make fish?” Quil asks.

“I can learn.” Soup replied. She could learn anything her master tried to teach her. Quil seems
satisfied with this new tribe member for now. Whether the newbie would be allowed in the
sleeping pile or not could be a different story. Even if she didn’t immediately allow Soup in,
the fact that Quil hasn’t immediately dismissed her was a good sign. There was a definite
hierarchy in the social ladder of his goblins even if Erux loved them all equally. Quil was the
one taking charge most often, with Ril, her demure sister at the bottom. It would be
interesting to see where Soup ended up.
“Speaking of fish, it’s time for lunch!” Erux announced. Quil quickly and eagerly moves to
sit down for lunch. One would think she’d have gotten into the food stores all day, but
quickly learned from an example that goblins that steal food go “to market” sooner than
most. Ril moved to sit at a more calm pace. “C’mon, Soup!” Malva took her hand and
eagerly helped her find a spot to sit in the sitting room with them.

"Thank you for being so nice to your fellow tribe member, Malva!" Erux praised, patting her
head with a tentacle. She smiled at her master's affection. "We have plenty to eat. No need to
worry. " He tells Quil. He heads to the larder, filling their bowls with rations. Normally they
were dried with the exception of the mushrooms and lichen, he had a personally cultivated
shelf of ripplebark which grew on the wall. The fish was dried and salted as he did not know
how to cook fresh fish.

That may change with Soup around. He started growing sweet potatoes in the moss farm last
year. The fiber in them proved beneficial to pregnant goblins, and the tribe started baking
them in clay pots over fire. He himself didn't care for their natural sweetness when taste
linking with his goblins but the tribe loved them. They also kept well in his larder and he
added the raw vegetables to their bowls in slices. Soon he had a bowl in each tentacle and
returned to feed his goblins.

"Remember, Quil. Gentle." He slowly gave the goblin her bowl first. "Gentle." He repeated.
Quil grabbed the bowl but manages not to scratch him. "Good girl!" He praised her.

"Hmph…" Quil seemingly dismissed his praise while blushing. He then fed everyone else.

"Uhm…" Ril looks at her bowl unsure.

"Is something wrong with your food?" Erux asked the shy goblin. "It's alright. You can tell
me."

"No… I uhm… The orange thing is yucky. I'll still eat it if I need to…" Ril softly spoke up
about the sweet potatoes.

"It's alright. You don't have to eat it. You can give it to someone else." The illithid gave her a
gentle reassuring Pat.

"That's because it's raw." Soup said bluntly. "It usually tastes better cooked." She informed
Ril. Although it sounded like cold criticism, he could tell Soup meant nothing bad by it. He
made a mental note to retrieve her cooking supplies later. If he wanted his goblins to get their
nutrients, he couldn't force them to eat food they hated. Such stress would be bad for the
development of the child.

"I'll eat it if you don't want it!" Malva volunteers, holding her bowl out for Ril to deposit the
unwanted vegetables. Ril dumped her sweet potato slices into Malva's bowl before starting to
eat her mushrooms.

"Perhaps I need to go shopping for extra supplies. I can send for your things, but is there
anything you need for cooking?" Erux asked Soup.

"Sometimes humans use what they call spices on their food. Fire lichen and funguswood are
common ones I use. They told me about one called garlic too." She explained, with the
vaguest hint of wanting to experiment.

"I'll see what I can do about that last one. I can acquire the other two with ease." Erux
confirmed. When they finished eating, the illithid showed Soup their new home.

The goblins had everything they needed and wanted. Surfaces they could safely climb on,
tons of blankets to turn into "forts" and tunnels, dried rations to snack on outside of meal
times. Erux's favorite way to give them enrichment was to hide treats in simple puzzle boxes
for his goblins to find. Soup managed to find one of these boxes when exploring and opened
it with ease. She gave the piece of jerky to Quil, seemingly uninterested in the reward.

"Do you have anything more challenging, master?" Soup asked. Erux blinked in surprise.
They usually never figured it out that fast!

"If you like puzzles, I’ll see what I can make for you." Erux replied. It looked like this goblin
would need more intellectually stimulating enrichment to keep from getting bored.

"Would you like to join me in shopping for your spices?" He asked her. Soup had never been
into the city proper before. He needed to see how she'd handle such an environment if he was
going to take her on trips.

"If you require my assistance, I will join you." She speaks in that soft monotone, indicating
neither excitement nor disappointment.

"Oh boy! Walk!" Malva perked up.

"Sorry, I'm only taking Soup this time. You got to walk with me through the whole farm
today." Erux gently told her. "We're going to buy stuff so Soup can make yummy food." He
didn't want to deal with wrangling four goblins just yet. He had to work his way up to
managing that.

Malva didn't need a leash, but the twins did. Ril and Quil were easily distracted. The one time
he tried to go leashless, Ril got lost and ended up crying her little eyes out. Quil would go
after anything that interested her and needed to be guided away from it. Malva would be little
to no problem, but if something happened with Soup, he’d need to keep his attention on the
new goblin. He grabbed the fourth chain from the wall and hooked it to her collar.

“There… Not too heavy, is it?” He opted for a lighter chain. Soup’s biggest flaw was that she
wasn’t strong at all. Far weaker than the average goblin, Soup is someone who could easily
be overpowered by even other goblins, but males found her cold and stoic approach to be
unattractive and off putting.

“It’s not uncomfortable, Master.” The stoic goblin confirmed. She once again walked with
her master at his pace, even jogging to keep up in testing her. He’d seen how fast she could
run. If she needed to run away from trouble, he was confident she couldn’t be caught. He
admired her gracefulness. At the market she did a very good job, not grabbing things she
shouldn’t grab, no accidentally tripping him, no needing to be nudged along or picked up.

Tallexa had a business partnership with a local possessor creed illithid named Len. They fire
lichen grown by Tallexa’s human thralls to the only non-illithid tavern in town, The Skull
Cap, but it was sold in small quantities to be used by more culinary thralls.

“How many goblins are there now in your collection? 11? 12?” Len joked.

“4. I haven’t lost count yet. This is Soup.” Erux introduced her.

“Rather scrawny looking, isn’t she…” Len commented, not thinking much of the goblin.

Erux picks Soup up, holding her defensively. Soup didn’t protest being picked up. “She’s
from my Rogue stock. Her breed isn’t meant for heavy lifting or manual labor. She’s a
specialist.”

“Oh, well excuse my lack of knowledge, goblin farmer.” Len chuckled from their banter.
“Anyway, did you need something? I’m about to close up my stand for the day.”
He bought fire lichen and funguswood. They had a spice called arispeg imported from the
surface and decided to buy that too. There was no garlic however.

“I commissioned an acquisition for that. We sent the caravans out earlier in the month. We
sent 2 to Sshamath. They should return in about a tenday and a half. Trezzir was assigned to
my request.” Poor Len had no idea that his shipment would be arriving never.

“Let me know if your shipment arrives. I added sweet potatoes to supplement my girl’s diets,
but Soup is the only one who can possibly make it palatable to them.” Erux lamented that he
couldn’t acquire what Soup wanted so easily.

“I’ll send you a tablet if I get it.” Len assured him.

Len noticed when they walked away he was still carrying that goblin. “That illithid sure loves
their goblins…”

Erux looked to see if he could get anything for his goblins from the remaining stalls but he
didn’t see anything of interest this time. “So… Are there any particular types of puzzles you
like?” Erux asked, trying to make small talk with Soup. He wanted to get to know her better.
“Logic puzzles. Especially of the truth or lie type. Math puzzles, riddles, and cryptograms.”
She replied. Cryptograms were of course taught to his rogues for the tamer creed, but math
puzzles and logic puzzles were a bit more advanced than the average goblin usually played
with.

“That’s quite fascinating. Let’s see if you can solve this one…” He offers up a puzzle for her
to solve. “ You arrive at a fork in the road and must choose the correct path to make it to your
destination. Standing at the fork are a duergar and a derro. The duergar will always tell the
truth. The derro will always lie. What do you ask to determine the correct path?”

“What path would the other person tell me to choose?” She replied.

“You heard that one already?” Erux asked. She nodded. The idea of making more difficult
puzzles for a goblin to solve actually seemed rather fun to him. Zusrall could go bite rocks.
He didn’t have a thrall capable of doing logic puzzles. Sure, his thrall could read, but they
wasted that skill on reading garbage erotica books. “Poor stock my ass.” Erux thought
smugly.

When he returned, he put the herbs away, storing them in a dry spot in the larder. He had one
last test to perform on his new goblin. Goblins were not at all very private creatures. They
were nude around each other all the time. They weren’t at all shy about breeding in front of
each other, which often led to more breeding. When he first started raising goblins, he was
surprised by the high rate of bisexuality among them. Erux had taken Soup into his chambers
to see if he could get some one-on-one time with her. He wouldn’t force her if she rejected
him.

“This is the part where we do it, right?” She asked in a blunt monotone. She wasn’t stupid.
She’d heard plenty of speculation from the “Erux Fan Club” about the kind of things they
wish the illithid would do to them. The group of goblins, mostly females and a few males,
had all wished they could be in his personal harem. The males would never be picked and
Soup knew this. They were pretty upset when she informed them of this.

Her response made his eyes widen in surprise. “What gave you that idea?” All his other
thralls were oblivious to his advances until he acted on them. He knew he wasn’t being all
that subtle, but he didn’t normally have to be with goblins.

“You’ve got me in your room alone. You’re either going to eat me or pleasure me, and I don’t
think it’s the former.” She said, beginning to pull off her clothing anyway.

“Only if you want to do that...” He told her. She was certainly insightful. It caught him off
guard.

“I want to.”

He was perplexed by her. No enthusiasm. No fear. No outward disgust or arousal. Yet he

sensed in her mind curiosity. There was also a suppressed feeling he couldn’t discern yet. She
felt rejection just as anyone else could. She wanted to feel wanted too.

“I haven’t done this before.” She admitted. She climbed up onto his bed and sat down,
looking up at him.

She wondered what Erux’s penis looked like. Did it look weird? Was it a big tentacle? Erux
chuckled at her thoughts. “There’s nothing there.” He pulled down his pants to show her his
completely smooth crotch.

“I see.” She immediately accepted the fact. “I suppose that makes more sense than what I
thought about.” She quickly had an understanding of what would happen. She allowed him to
pull her into his lap. Her back was turned to him and she accepted the feeling of tentacles
and his hands on her body.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle with you.” He assured her. She didn’t see how it mattered. He
was the master. He could have done anything he wanted to her.

She didn’t make much sound, but he could feel her arousal slowly starting to build. His
fingers gently teased the nipples of her perky breasts. She’d seen other goblins women use
their mouths on the males. She wondered if she could do something similar. She grabs one of
his tentacles and starts to lick it. It felt like she was right where she was supposed to be right
now. One of Erux’s hands gently rubbed her head.

“That’s it… Good girl.” Erux praised.

“Feels strange…” Her cheeks were slowly taking on a pink color.

“In a bad or good way?” Erux checked in with her.

“Don’t stop. Keep going.” She wasn’t sure but she didn’t want it to end. He figured that was
as close as he would get to her expressing much of an opinion either way. He began rubbing a
tentacle against her sex.

She may be practically expressionless and emotionally cool, but her body couldn’t deceive
him. He felt the butterflies in her stomach. He felt the slick wetness between her legs. He
slowly pushed it in. Her entire body felt hot at the sensation and she gasped softly. She
silently grabbed his hand and guided it to her clitoris.

“Is this really your first time?” Erux teased. He obliged her desires, rubbing her as he slowly
filled her with gentle thrusts. Goblins adjusted pretty well due to their natural libidos. Soup
didn’t seem all that different in that regard.

“No one has ever tried it with me...” She admitted. That was genuinely surprising to him.
Erux thought she was fantastic. It just didn’t seem right. If no one else would cherish her, he
would.

He began to slowly move faster. Her stoic expression was being undone. Her jaw dropped as
she started squirting on his tentacle. He shivered pleasurably as he elicited soft moans from
her. She couldn’t stop dripping on his tentacle as it plunged deeper and harder inside her.
“Feels good…!” She moaned softly. Who knew she was hiding such a pleasurable
experience? It was quiet, but sustained. He didn’t care if it made a mess. He was happy to
keep going until she had her fill. Her whimpers grew in volume. She clung to his tentacles.
Her grip was so weak and gentle, it couldn’t possibly hurt him. Erux trembled as he clung to
her. The sound that came out of her was the cutest little squeak he’d ever heard when she
came. He wasn’t much louder as he let out a soft grunt.

If it got out to the public he was having sex with his livestock, the goblin farmer would be
looked down upon more than he already was. Each and every goblin in his home knew that
this was a secret and to never ever tell the “fan club” about it. This knowledge was silently
imparted into Soup’s mind as well. He gently sat her down on the bed and changed his
clothes. When he moved to clean Soup up, he saw the first smile he’d ever seen on her face!
It was a small and gentle smile.

“Thank you, Master.” She looked at him, with the softest hint of warmth in her voice.

“I’m glad you enjoyed that.” Erux replied as he wiped her clean with a washcloth and warm
water. He didn’t use soap for the purposes of keeping his scent on her for now. If she smelled
like him, the others would be more likely to accept her into the sleeping pile. Soup didn’t
bother to put her clothes back on as she left the room to see her bedroom.

“She has been marked by the chief!” Malva knew immediately.

“Congratulations.” Ril smiled, applauding softly.

“Welcome to our special tribe, Soup!” Quil said. Erux’s plan worked like a charm. Soup was
going to fit right in.
 Mistress Will Take Care of Everything
Chapter Summary

What happens when a prize thrall becomes sick?

Whim felt terrible. His nose was stuffy, his head hurt. His entire body ached! He thought that
the derro they brought in for dinner several days ago might have had the sniffles. He must
have gotten careless in cleaning it up. Natiri thankfully hadn’t caught the illness he had. If
she did, she certainly wasn’t feeling the effects that he was. He could normally push through
when he was ill to at least do some light work, but everything hurt and he was tired.

“Whim? Shouldn’t you be waking up by now? You need to wake up.” Vebeva entered his
room to see he’s still in bed. Natiri informed Vebeva that he hadn’t gotten up. The tiefling
thought it was odd he was being so lazy.

“I’m sorry… I don’t feel well…” Whim whimpered. She tapped into his senses as he forced
himself to sit up. She could feel how his muscles ached as he moved.

“Whim… That feels awful! Lay back down…” She quickly floated to him, gently placing a
tentacle against his forehead. “ Goodness! You’re burning up!”

“I… I’ll be fine! I just need to-” He couldn’t not serve his mistress! He had no excuse!

“No. You are staying right here.” The ulitharid insisted. “Natiri! Get one of my blankets out
of my room. He needs a fresh blanket. He’s sweating excessively.” She instructed her tiefling
thrall. Misstress sounded worried. He wasn’t just being lazy then.

“Yes, mistress.” She moves to get a clean blanket. In the meantime, Vebeva pulled off his
clothes. She didn’t want him in those drenched clothes while he was ill. She uses her
telekinesis to scoop him a clean cup of water from his drinking basin.

“Don’t move. Mistress will take care of you…” She propped him up in her lap to drink. He
tiredly sips the water she gave him. He softly whined, leaning into her embrace. “All you
need to do is rest. That’s your only duty right now.” She says. She took the blanket from
Natiri and wrapped Whim in it. “It’s quite cool and breathable…” She assured him.
Natiri had gotten the one off her bed as she didn’t know where the spare ones were kept.
Although his nose was stuffed, he smelled her scent faintly on it. He was surrounded by it
and it brought him comfort. She couldn’t even be mad at Natiri for grabbing the wrong
blanket. It was what he needed after all. “Make sure those fabrics get cleaned today.” She
was serious about making sure he had clean and comfortable bedding.

“Gee… Poor Whim…” Even Natiri felt bad for him. He looked so weak and pathetic in her
arms.

“Do you think you can eat something, Whim?”

“I’ll try for you, Mistress.” He responded honestly. She tried to think back to what Whim
would do for her when she was sick. It had been a while. She was rarely as sick as Whim was
right now. Unlike those common mind flayers, she easily shrugged off most illnesses. Whim
occasionally became ill just as any other human but he hadn’t been this sick before. If he had,
he hid it very well for her sake.

“I know I’m making you juggle tasks like a clown but can you manage to heat up some rothe
broth? Surely, Whim taught you how to cook something.” He certainly wasn’t getting better
on an empty stomach.

“I got you. I know how to make stew.” Natiri confirmed with determination. She left the
room to get cooking. Now wasn’t the time to worry about feeling useless. She held Zusrall’s
gift close to her chest when she was out of sight. She had a duty to help Whim recover. From
that tiny resonance stone, she gave herself the determination to act. She was needed now
more than ever.

What if she couldn’t do it? What if she needed help? Whim was worried it wouldn’t be done
properly without him! “Let me worry about Natiri right now. Nobody needs anything from
you at this moment except for you to rest and heal. You’re my good boy, and good boys stay
in bed when they are sick.” She tells him. Getting a cloth, she dampens it with water and
gently wiped his face with it.

It seemed like the kind of thing a servant should do for their master. It didn’t at all feel
appropriate to Whim. “M-mistress, are you certain you should be doing this for me?” He
asked. “I’m your servant. I should be-” He is cut off by her shushing him with the rag.

“Resting. You should be resting.” She finishes that sentence. “Do not be embarrassed.
There’s nothing wrong with me doing this. Your mistress will take care of you.”
“I love you so much… So kind to me. So generous… I’d do anything for you.” Whim closed
his eyes. His whole head hurt. He felt a sharp pain in his sinuses. His neck at the base of his
skull was in constant dull pain. He wanted to sleep but he hurt all over. On top of it all, he
was feeling chills.

“I know you would, Whim. My precious thrall…” She softly ran her fingers through his hair.
She remembered the lotion that he would use during his massages and on the rare occasions
her skin was dry from The Ashen. His skin wasn’t dry. It was actually quite clammy, but
perhaps he would appreciate the sensation of touch. She gently put him down. “I’ll be right
back.”

Natiri wouldn’t know where it was so she got it herself. A jar of crag mushroom lotion.
Whim tiredly looked at her with curiosity when she returned. Her long delicate fingers
scooped the lotion out of the jar and spread it into her palm. She rubbed her hands together to
warm it up. Her tentacles gently pulled back the blankets to reveal his bare chest as she
started to rub it in. Whim found the scent to be pleasant. He associated it with pleasing his
mistress.

But he was a thrall. He didn’t deserve a massage from his mistress. This dynamic was all
wrong! “M-mistress… You embarrass me…”

“Shush. I don’t want to hear a peep out of you unless it’s to express appreciation or need.
That’s an order.” She commanded. Whim’s anxiousness was practically ripped from him at
her command. He closed his eyes, allowing her to touch him. He let out a soft and contented
sigh.

“That’s it… Good boy. Just relax for your mistress.” She praised him. She used the tips of
two of her tentacles to massage his temples. He was slowly sinking into bliss and relaxation.
He smiled softly at her praise. “Everything seems to hurt but it’s in your head more than
anything…” She gently massaged his face, moving her tentacles in small circular motions.
She continued rubbing his chest with her hands. Her long nails weren’t at all sharp or
unpleasant. “I know I’m getting your face all slimy, but you don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all, Mistress.” Whim replied softly. She could make him as slimy as she wanted to.
Any touch from his mistress could never be repulsive to him. “I reached out to the clergy of
Ilsensine. They’re sending a priest that can help you feel a little bit better so you can get
some rest.” The perks of having a two mile telepathic range were immeasurable.

Unfortunately, priests of Ilsensine were not exactly of the healing variety. All they had to
offer was thoughts and prayers to a sick and wounded creature like Whim. It would, however,
be just enough to ease his pain. She would be paying extra to have medicine brought to him.
Whim disliked the medicine, but he knew he had to take it.

Natiri returned with the stew. “I put fire lichen in it. It might help clear his stuffy nose.” She
informed them. Natiri put some rothe chunks in it and sweet potatoes from Erux’s farm.
Natiri hated the damn things but Vebeva had purchased a bag because Whim informed her
that he enjoyed them. She made sure everything was cut into manageable and easy to chew
chunks.

Vebeva used her tentacles to prop him up. Natiri perhaps added more than he would normally
care for but it was savory, spicy and slightly sweet as he ate a chunk of sweet potato. He
coughed slightly. “It’s a bit spicy.”

“Shit. I’m sorry…” Natiri apologized.

“Don’t worry about it. I need this to clear my sinuses.” He took another spoonful as Vebeva
fed it to him. It honestly didn’t taste bad.

“Good boy. Eat as much as you can for me.You need the energy.” Vebeva encouraged.

Her encouragement was clearly working. Whim was eating with a little more gusto now. The
sooner he got better, the sooner he could return to serving her. He’d endure this spicy stew for
her, even as his mouth burned and his nose was beginning to run. “Natiri, get him a
handkerchief.”

Whim gently blew his nose when Natiri retrieved what her mistress requested. “Ugh. You
must think I’m so disgusting like this…” He pouted.

“No. Never.” She reassured him, while making Natiri immediately wash the handkerchief he
just used. “Please keep eating if you can.” She has another spoonful of stew. When she had
put the spoon in his mouth there was a gentle knock at the door. “Oh, they’re here! Natiri,
keep feeding Whim. I have to get the door.” Vebeva gave Whim a gentle pat on the head with
a tentacle.

“It’s alright, Whim. We’ve got you…” Natiri spoke softly to him.

A priest of Ilsensine named Tuooks was at the door. “Greetings, Vebeva. Where is the thrall
that requires treatment?” They saw no point in wasting such care on a non-illithid but
Vebeva was paying a premium for it so they didn’t care. Vebeva led the illithid to Whim’s
room. Of course it was Whim. They rolled their eyes at the sight of the pampered human.
They then said a half hearted prayer and forced him to drink a most unpleasant elixir. Whim’s
stomach turned at the medicine. It was horrible going down. Natiri gave the cringing human
man some water to wash out the taste.

“Alright. I’m done.” Tuooks held out their tentacle for payment. Vebeva handed them 5
mindgates. Tuooks wouldn’t have done it for any cheaper. As long as it made Whim feel
better, no price was too high. When the priest left, Vebeva quickly returned to her favored
thrall’s side. She gently squished his cheeks as she scanned his thoughts.

“Aww… My precious thrall, I know that medicine was repugnant to you. You were such a
good boy for taking it.” She squishes his cheeks. “And you finished your stew! I’m so proud
of you!” She praised him. Seeing that smile on his face made it worth it. “I’ll help you get
back to sleep. You need your rest.”

Vebeva begins running her fingers through his hair, brushing it softly. She telepathically
brings positive affirmations into his mind. “You always do your very best, and now your
mind and body are set to rest. You always do your very best, and now your mind and body are
set to rest. You always do your very best, and now your mind and body are set to rest.” She
tucked him in using her tentacles. She repeats each affirmation to him three times. “Sleep
comes easily to you as you quiet your mind and relax your muscles.” The ulitharid allows
him to hold onto a tentacle. “Your rest will rejuvenate you, and tomorrow will be a new
day.”

“You are loved and protected by me always. You are safe. You will heal.” She says to him.
She created a microcosm for him to get lost in until he slept. Whim fantasized about his
mistress carrying him to bed with her and letting him sleep next to her. Surely her company
would cure him. He was drifting deeper into slumber. She was surprised but nevertheless,
today she would indulge him.

She wrapped the stunned man up in the blanket and instructed Natiri to carry his pillows to
her room. She pulled him close, hugging the swaddled man with her arms and tentacles while
Natiri draped another blanket over her mistress’ legs. She focused on providing the
microcosm to Whim until he had eased into unconsciousness.

“Caramyn, I regret to inform you that I’ll have to cancel lunch. You’ll have to indulge
without me. Whim became quite ill today and my thoughts are devoted to ensuring his
recovery.” Vebeva’s idea of having lunch with a friend was taste linking with Caramyn from
the comfort of her domicile.

“Oh dear! I hope he’ll be alright! You and him have my well wishes! I know some home
remedies if you need any help.” She offered.

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’ve got him fed, hydrated and medicated. I just got him back to sleep.
I’ll keep you updated so you won’t have to worry. I’m certain he’ll be alright.” Vebeva
responded.

“Can Natiri handle his duties on top of hers?” Caramyn asked.

“Oh no, not at all!” Vebeva said with an amused tone. “It doesn’t matter. Toril will not cease
turning. The world can wait patiently for Whim to recover. There is nothing pressing that can
not wait.” She would carve through mountains for him to make it so. His peaceful expression
on his face as he slept melted her cold heart.

“That’s a great way of looking at it. One time when I was sick, Dalli, bless his heart, put me
in his foot soaking tub! I had the chills so bad, it was the only thing he could think to do to
warm me up!” Caramyn giggled.

“Don’t tell me funny stories like that! I might wake Whim up!” Vebeva stifled a giggle.
Stories of Dallimeze’s stumbling and pathetic exploits were hilarious to her.

“Sorry. I’ve got to get this trillimac out of the pan, so I won’t keep you. Dalli’s home today so
I can share it with him.” Caramyn replied mentally with a smile.

“We’ll catch up later.” Vebeva bid farewell to Caramyn.

She spent the next several minutes canceling appointments and obligations. This is where she
needed to be right now. “When Whim wakes up, you will be the one to care for all of his
needs and desires until he is better. He is not to lift a finger to do any work today.” Vebeva
tells Natiri.

“Yes, Mistress.” She replied without hesitation. Normally she would have rolled her eyes but
she had to admit that Whim did indeed work hard. This was the one time they truly needed
her.

Vebeva monitored his thoughts as he slept. All was calm. As he slipped into REM sleep an
hour later, he had a dream in which the three of them were at a table large enough for all of
them. For some reason, Vebeva had given him a platinum coin. Humanoid dreams were so
nonsensical. Most of them weren’t able to lucid dream, or pursue the vastness of their
knowledge in their sleep. Even still, some illithid scholars believed that meaning could be
garnered from the seemingly pointless visions that humanoids had in their dreams.

All that mattered to the ulitharid is that Whim was safe, calm, and not in any pain. Maybe she
should consider buying a new table. She saw a nice dining set at the market the other day.
Perhaps it was still there…
 Thrall Turnabout
Chapter Summary

Dallimeze and Caramyn switch roles and he dominates his wife.

TW: mild description of gore for an illithid's meal.

“Dalli, Vebeva had to cancel lunch.” Caramyn announced to her husband, disappointment at
the situation in her voice.

“Oh no, honey! What happened??” Dallimeze looked up from his embroidery hoop. He
found the repetitive motions of putting dyed mushroom fibers through thin cloth to be
relaxing, though he was embarrassed by his craft so he never told anyone. If anyone asked, it
was all Caramyn’s handiwork.

“Whim got sick. I hope he gets better!” She replied. Dallimeze actually had no reason to
dislike Whim. Sure he was proud, but he had every right to be when he was so beloved by an
ulitharid. He felt much of the same pride from winning Caramyn’s affections so he
understood the human butler perfectly.

“Aww, I hope so too.” He replied. His current pattern was a geometric skull with an
embellishment of black roses with a white rose in the center of that embellishment. Roses
were a flower that Caramyn liked. Especially black roses.

Caramyn came over to take a look at what he was making. He lifted her into his lap so she
could see better. “That’s so pretty, Dalli! I wish everyone could appreciate this as much as I
do.” She complimented it. Dallimeze was afraid that others would tease and make fun of him
for his art. While he normally liked to be degraded, this was a private part of his life. It would
hurt to have it torn apart by anyone. He might even be accused of partialism! Ilsensine’s
Tentacles that would surely destroy him.

“Why thank you, Caramyn. Are you still going to eat your lunch? Wouldn’t want it to get
cold, right?” He checked in on making sure she got to eat her freshly cooked food.

“Oh, yes! Would you like to join me?” Caramyn offered.

“I would never turn down an opportunity to try my wife’s cooking.” Dallimeze accepted. He
set his embroidery down on an end table and moved to join her in the sitting room. For
Dallimeze, Caramyn prepared the heart of a lizardfolk with the intestines wrapped around it
in the shape of a heart. When the entire plate was viewed it read “Le ♥ nehel” in Deep
Speech. It meant "I love you." The Espruar script was written in a thick sauce made of
cerebral spinal fluid. In deep speech, the word replaced by the heart was “thiramin”. It meant
love. It was a very rarely used word, but one hearing it could feel raw affection.

“Oh, Caramyn! You spoil me!” Dallimeze blushed at the romantic display. How she knew
deep speech was a mystery to most. Even most shadow thieves didn’t question it. Carmyn’s
version of events were altered. She was part of an illicit brain trade. It was how they met.
That much was true. What she didn’t remember is that things fell through between her boss
and the illithids. She was the payment.

For herself, Caramyn cooked trillimac pods. “I’m glad you like it, Dalli!” She blushed,
smiling at her husband’s praise. She used her step stool to climb into her chair and Dallimeze
gave her the food she made for herself.

“I’m thinking about getting a temporary housekeeping thrall for when your pregnancy
progresses. Not anytime soon, of course. Merely to take care of your needs until the child is
born.” Dallimeze said.

Perhaps a bit of jealousy still lingered in her mind. “Well… It has to be a male deep gnome or
a halfling!” She insisted. Both were races that Dallimeze didn’t particularly find attractive.
She bit him hard once for thinking about an orog woman dominating him.

“I vowed to be a good and faithful husband. I fully understand your distrust in this regard. If
it pleases you I would get on my own hands and knees to scrub the floors.” He reassured her.
“In fact… Oh geez…” He fanned himself imagining his wife forcing him to clean. Caramyn
giggled at his imagination.

“Oh, I’ll be keeping that one in mind, Dalli.” She teased. She then decides to try her trillimac
pods when Dallimeze taste linked with her.

“That is delectable, Caramyn! You’re quite possibly the best chef in the entire city.” His
tentacles curled contentedly. “Don’t humanoids often end up craving certain foods when
pregnant? I hope you don’t end up craving trillimac. We’ll end up destitute!” He joked.
“I guess you’ll just have to beg Vebeva for more.” Caramyn teased him. His face slowly
blushed pale.

“That’s not funny…” He gurgled, hiding his face with his tentacles. “You shouldn’t tease me
while I’m trying to eat. I’ll end up withering away!”

“I’m sorry, Dalli. I’ll let you eat first.” She continued eating her meal until she was done.
“This did turn out quite nice.” She commented. “I’ll have to ask Whim for his recipe for that
pudding.”

“Have you ever… Thought about switching roles?” Caramyn asked. Dallimeze was surprised
by her question.

“Me? Taking charge?” He was always technically in charge but… To actually act like it?
“No, I can’t say that I have… I couldn’t inflict any pain on you though. Especially not until
our child is born. It’s not safe.”

“I would be readily accepting of anything done to me in any other scenario but I agree. A
child is unable to receive the gift of Loviatar’s pain.” His wife agreed. “That isn’t to say that
you need to hurt me to dominate me.” Caramyn pointed out. “We could try a more gentle
approach?” She suggested. His tentacles slowly writhed thoughtfully. Anyone else he would
have rejected quickly but he would have tried anything for her at least once. The idea of
gentle domination made him curious. Perhaps a bit of dirty talk could help him figure out
what she wanted.

“Does the idea of me pinning you down and using you for my pleasure appeal to you?”
Dallimeze asks.

“Oh my…” She blushed. “I think it does.”

“You dirty little vixen…” He teased her. He gently took her plate from her and set it aside. He
picked her up and placed her against the table of his office. He pinned her down with his
tentacles. “Look what you do to me, Caramyn. You’ve been very naughty, teasing me during
lunch like that.” He was going to make her give him pleasure for that. “You can use my safe
words if you need to. Just remember, I’m going to get what I want from you eventually…” He
wanted to make sure she felt safe because this was just as new to him as it was to her.

“Such a good wife…” Dallimeze praised. “To have and to hold.” He ripped her plain little
dark dress apart, exposing her body to him. Caramyn grew excited at the aggressive display.
Dallimeze lowered his mouth until his teeth were gently grazing against her shoulder.
Caramyn knew he would never hurt her but the sensation made her gasp pleasurably
regardless.

“Oh fuck…! That feels fantastic, Dalli…” She gasped. He placed his hand on her throat.

“You’ll address me by my full name when we play like this.” He corrected her.

“Yes, Dallimeze!” Caramyn smiled. She switched roles so easily. She really was his wife. She
was perfect in every way to him. She was just as cute in a submissive role as she was a
dominant one.

His mouth was trailing down her tiny body in soft wet kisses. He was taking great care not to
hurt her. He held both of her wrists together with a single tentacle in order to free up one of
his tentacles. “I think I’ll be taking what I want now… I think you recall well when you stole
your orgasm from me last time.” He tells her what he’s going to do next. “Yes, you remember
very well. Can you imagine what I’m going to do to you?” Dallimeze asked.

“You’re going to use me, aren’t you?” He was getting her all worked up. His tentacles snaked
up her legs.

“Is that a hint of shyness I’m sensing?” Dallimeze teased. “Are you too embarrassed to go
into specifics? How am I going to use you?” He asked. His light psychological bullying was
making her face red. He’d found her one weakness! The look on her face was adorable. Was
it really alright to hold this kind of power over her?

“Shall I continue to enlighten you?” He asked, smoothly asking for her permission. It was
like he was a different illithid. So this was his work persona? She enjoyed it just as much as
the shy pathetic illithid he brought home. She loved each and every part of him.

She nodded. “Yes, Dalli!” The hand at her throat tightened ever so slightly. “Dallimeze!” She
corrected herself. Two of his tentacles spread her legs apart further. She gasped as she felt a
warm and slick tentacle sliding across her smooth and perfectly shaven pussy.

“You’ve turned yourself into the perfect spouse for me. The care you place into every detail
is… Exquisite.”

She squirmed against his tentacle, eagerly trying to please herself with it. “Already at my
mercy, are we? Has all the fight left that tiny little body so soon?” He placed his thumb
against her lips, to which she lightly bites down on it. “There’s my little spitfire… I could turn
your very mind into my play thing. Would you open your mind to me, my dearest Caramyn?”
She panted softly as he teased her. He leaned close and started whispering to her in Deep
Speech. “Le l' tharanak ymg' ah mghlirgh thiramin syha'h.” For eternity he promised to be her
faithful husband. “Nehel ah ya nilgh'ri fhtagn nog mgleth. Le ahor't lill fhtagn quen c' uaahll
aestar.” She was his every dream come true. He could not wait for the reality they would
build together.

She felt his warmth. His desire in his words. Her mind whispered back, as they slipped
further into pleasure and need for one and other. “Nehel ah ya faen. mgepah'ehye syha'h.”
Dallimeze was her life. They were bound eternally.

“Le thiramin nehel.” He loved her. She felt his love upon every word. She was filled with it
as he entered her. He loved her and everything he gave her. Pleasure, pain, frustration, denial,
joy. With Caramyn it all mixed into one. Their minds were intertwining. They pulled each
other’s strings. Like a tensegrity sculpture, one supported the other in a tense dance yet never
broke.

He was certainly going to pull her strings. He entered her with his free tentacle and started
rubbing her clitoris with his hand. “Oh! Oh fuck…! Dallimeze!” Caramyn moaned. Her eyes
rolled back as she squirmed against him. She seemed more sensitive when in a helpless
position like this. He almost couldn’t take it. She was intense even when submitting to him.
He couldn’t help but start moaning too. “I fucking love your smell on me so much…” She
confessed.

“Oh yes… No one will doubt you’re mine by the time I’m done marking you.” Dallimeze’s
voice dripped with need. “ You can’t keep your pleasure from me this time. There is no
escape.” Caramyn didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Oh yes! Take it from me! Take my pleasure! Take my pain. Take everything!” She begged.

“You’ve already given me everything I ever wanted. Let me give you what you desire. If being
my cute little toy is your wish, I’ll grant it. I’ll give you everything you desire. Come. Accept
my gift.”

Caramyn practically came instantly at that. “Oh!!” She cried out. Dallimeze slowly pulled out
of her and his tentacle rested on her. For a moment. His grip on her body never loosened.

“You know I think you deserve a little payback from last time.” His voice took on a
mischievous tone and he began rubbing her throbbing clit with his tentacle. She was being
overstimulated. It was so sensitive, and he had pulled out of her mind. “Eep! D-dal..!
Dalliiii!” She couldn’t even form a complete sentence let alone say his whole name. She tried
to close her legs reflexively.

“Eek! Mercy! Mercy! Fire!!” She cried. Dallimeze pulled away at the use of the safe word.
She was giggling when he stopped.

“Are you alright, honey?” He asked her.

“Ehehe… Yes. That was really… Enlightening. It was so provocative when you got your
revenge on me for slapping you last time.” She complimented him.

“Was it weird when I used my mouth?” He asked.

“You’re the only illithid brave enough to kiss their thrall with their own mouth that I know of.
Yes, it was weird but I liked it. You’re my sweet weirdo.” She pulled him in by his tentacle,
leading him into a loving kiss on his cheek. “Did you like dominating me gently?” She
asked.

“It’s not something I could do very often, but I certainly enjoyed it because it was what you
wanted.” Her husband admitted honestly.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” He gently wiped her dry and picked her up to clean the table. “
We made quite a mess of things haven’t we?” His voice was warm and loving. “You’re the
best treat after lunch that one could ask for.”

“Oh, you!” She blushed, covering her cheeks. She smiled brightly.

“Apologies for destroying your dress. I’ll buy you a new one. ” He got her some fresh and
clean clothes to wear.

“That old thing? Don’t worry about it, sweetie.” She wasn’t at all bothered by its destruction.

“Ah, then that means you needed a new one anyway. Do you want another one in dark
blue?” He remembered it was her favorite color. It made her bright orange hair pop and stand
out.

“Yes please!” It always cost extra to get her clothes in that color. It was worth every expense
to make her feel pretty.

“I thought of names for our child.” She tells him. He grabbed the dishes from lunch with his
tentacles as he held her close. He’d take care of it this time.
“Oh?”

“Xovyn if it’s a boy.”

“That’s a great one. I like it. It sounds almost illithid in nature.” He complimented.

“If it’s a girl, let's call her Rosiwyn.” She suggested.

“It’s as beautiful as you are, honey.” He hugged her. His tentacles began washing the dishes
in the basin.

“You know you don’t have to do that, sweetie. I can do that.”

“I know. I want to. It’s training for later. I can’t expect you to do this stuff when you get closer
to giving birth to our child.” He had a convenient excuse to submit to her even more. He was
actually somewhat envious of Whim. He got to freely serve his lover, but when his thrall
became heavily pregnant, he’d have an excuse. He would get to be the kind of subservient
lover he wished he could be.

“You’re just looking for an excuse to look even more pathetic.” She teased. “That’s fine
though. You’re my perfectly pathetic husband.”

“I am yours and you are mine. Forever bound by fate.” Perhaps, even more heretically, he
was warming up to the idea of a goddess guarding their union.
 Sometimes Sanctuary Can Be Found in Adventure
Chapter Summary

Gathering rumors, you decide to seek lost treasure to help Addanil with your financial
problems.

Chapter Notes

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMjGHhhGuCU

So the reader knows what the flute piece sounded like!

Addanil grumbled as he opened his eyes. Sunlight was filtering into their room. He’d fallen
asleep with you after your passionate and impromptu romp in the sheets. Damnable
sunlight… And yet your face within its brightness stood out to him. He gently stroked your
face with his hand. “Mmn… Bright…” You muttered. So you two really did do that. You sat
up in bed, stretching loudly. Addanil wrapped his tentacle around your waist in a sleepy hug.

“You did that of your own volition… Why?” He asked you. He couldn’t imagine that a non-
thrall would willingly lay with an illithid and yet you pounced on him like a tiger.

“I think I missed you too.” You whispered to him. You sleepily kissed him and he embraced
you as your warm lips touched his face. The two of you jumped slightly at the knock on your
door.

“Are you awake? Your clothes are dry. I’ll just leave them right here!” The nice lady from
earlier was on the other side. Addanil hissed.

“Make my heart jump right out of my chest, why don’t you!?” You heard his voice in your
mind. You snickered softly.

“Yes, we’re awake. Thank you so much!” You said cheerfully.

“It’s getting close to noon! If you want breakfast at The Bucket and Basilisk, you’ll have to
hurry! It’s right across the street.” The innkeeper informed you.
“Thank you once again!” You called back to her.

“Are you hungry?” You asked him. “I know you haven’t eaten since we came here.” You
squeezed his hand. It was your signal that you needed to tell him something mentally.

“When was the last time you ate a brain?”

Addanil puts his voice box on. “I am indeed quite hungry.” He tells you out loud. “That
damn priestess killed my quaggoths. I took the liberty of eating one of their brains 4 days
ago.” He finishes mentally. He still needed to eat and drink supplementary foods when he
wasn’t eating brains. He was probably thirsty and hungry after the chase he sent himself on to
find you.

“You can go for some eggs, right? Sunny side up?” You asked. “You know, with the yolk all
soft?”

“I can try.” Addanil rarely ate eggs but when he did get them, he ate them raw. The eggs
usually came from a flightless underdark bird called a diatryma. “Wait… You’re not seriously
considering making me go to a tavern…” He grumbled.

“You’re capable of acting normal for a few minutes, ‘Ames’. Just be calm.” You tell him.
“Besides, I’m also concerned with gathering information. Taverns are a classic spot for local
rumors and where a bard can do a little busking. We’re in a hamlet so I doubt I’ll get much in
the latter regard.” You explained your reasoning.

“The ability to gain information is admittedly alluring. Alright. I will go to this tavern with
you.” Addanil nodded. You retrieved your clothes and the two of you started getting dressed.
He found himself sneaking glances at you. He couldn't take his eyes off of you for long. After
you were dressed, you gave his hand a squeeze.

"If you need to look through my eyes to see better, you can. I won't leave you blind." You
offered.

"I would appreciate that…" Addanil responded. He never asked for your help yet you were
offering it freely and willingly. He'd even seen personal thralls reject orders from illithids that
were not their personal master. That damn pampered thrall belonging to Vebeva was a great
source of annoyance and she merely laughed at him saying that 'He was just following
protocol, peon!'. That griffin down blanket import was his most annoying job ever.
Now here you were, no longer his thrall and concerned with him being able to see
comfortably. "You know, you should say 'Thank you' when someone does something nice for
you." You snapped him from his thoughts. "You want to fit in, right? Practicing etiquette is a
great way to do that." You tell him. The eye of his illusory face rolled.

"I'll keep that in mind…" He muttered. He made sure his hat was secured as you left to go to
the tavern which was quite literally across the street. The muddy tracks you left on the floor
had already been cleaned.

The Bucket and Basilisk was a fair and cheap tavern. Nothing to write home about. You and
Addanil found a table towards the back of the dining area where he could turn his back to the
other patrons. It was fairly busy as the only tavern.

A cheerful teenage human was taking your order. There was no menu at this place. "We'll
have water to drink. He'll get two sunny side eggs, hold the biscuits and do you have
sausage?" You started ordering.

"We still have some indeed! You're just in time!" The tavern boy confirmed.

"Great! He'll get sausage too. I'll have sausage, sunny side eggs and biscuits." You finished
ordering.

The tavern boy moved to call into the kitchen. "Hey pa! Two sunshine specials! Dippin' style
on the eggs, hold the dippin' bread on one."

It's been ages since you were in a tavern. The place was busy. Addanil was fidgeting with the
sash on his robes. He was nervous.

"How am I going to eat??" He asked you.

"With your mouth?" You replied jokingly. His illusory face glared at you. "What's the
problem?" You at least should figure out what is bothering him.

"You know where my mouth is… It'll look like I'm putting food in my beard! It'll look strange!
They're going to know!"

You softly snorted at the mental imagery. "It's not amusing!" He snapped.

"But it is… They're not going to find out what you are… I'll distract them so you can eat
quickly without anyone noticing." You told him.
"There's at least a dozen and half people in here!" He sounded worried.

"And I'll ensure their eyes are off of you. Try to trust me? Please?" You looked at him with
that pleading face. He looked rather defeated. He had to put his trust in you to get his food…
"When we get our food, I'll play for the patrons. I don't see any other bard in here so it should
be easy enough."

You actually had no idea, but you weren't about to admit that. You took out you sketch pad
and opened it. You blushed at the sketches of Addanil you made and quickly flipped the
page.

"Shopping list… Ames, we have to acquire new gear." You speak to him absentmindedly.
You were going to make a list. "I need a new weapon. You'll need clothes and…" His scent
reminds you of last night. "Maybe some perfume or something I don't know but we need to
obfuscate that." You start writing this down with graphite.

"How are you expecting to pay for all this, hm? Do I look like I'm made of coin?" Addanil
asked.

"Oh, don't act so poor, Ames. I know you've got a couple more gems. That lady gave us some
coins too." You rolled your eyes. "We'll work if we must." You were determined.

"Work??" He looked disgusted at the idea of such drudgery.

The tavern boy brings your food to the table. "Two sunshine specials! Enjoy!" He
announced.

"Thank you!" You hand him a silver piece. "Keep the change, boy." Addanil glares at you
when you give him a tip. "Don't be so fucking stingy…" You whispered to him. "A little
generosity goes a long way. Now if you don't mind…" You stand from the table and move
across the tavern. You tell the patrons the tale of the stag-headed apparition you encountered
in the dark last night.

“We were being watched! I alone stepped forth. ‘We mean no harm! We merely seek passage
through your woods, guardian!’ I pleaded. And then as spry as the deer it imitated, it bounded
off, never seen again.” You begin to play a haunting melody on your flute, inspired by your
encounter.
The patrons begin to watch you with curiosity and awe. Addanil turns to his plate, using his
fork to suck his food into his mouth. Within less than a minute, the meal is gone, as if it had
never been there. "That is the most stressful meal I've ever had but it is done… Thank you."
Addanil mentally tells you. Your performance did not earn you any coin but it did its
intended purpose. You sit down to begin eating your food.

"Gee, you sure were hungry!" You joked. Addanil's illusory face expressed unamusement.
"Well at least you didn't get any on you. The food is honestly kind of not great but it's food…
These sausages are cold. Ugh." You expressed displeasure. "And would you stop looking so
grumpy?"

Addanil forces the illusioned human face to smile. It was uncanny. "Never mind…" You
muttered. “I’m going to go talk to the barkeep. I’m not eating the rest of this stuff so we’ll
take it with us. You can have it for later. These biscuits are as dry as your sense of humor.”
You made a face, sticking your tongue out. You apparently had slightly more expensive
tastes.

“Good afternoon, sir. My companion, Ames and I, are from out of town. We’re a bit turned
around and have little idea what’s in the area. Could you tell us a little bit about this hamlet
please?” You introduced yourself and asked for more information.

“Ah, yes. Malorie told us about you two. Waylaid by elves? That’s terrible!” The barkeeper
expressed his condolences. “I didn’t think the wild elves had come so far north. You’re in
Selpt. After the rest of the settlements in Suldamma were razed, we’re what’s left. Plenty of
farms around here. Just across the River Scelptar to the south, you’ll reach the town of
Dapplegate. It’s certainly a bigger settlement than this one. If you head east, you’ll eventually
reach Blackbarn. I’ve heard Blackbarn is cursed! I’ll stay here in my non-cursed hamlet.
Thank you very much.” The barkeep tells you of the surrounding settlements.

He didn’t seem very knowledgeable about the surrounding cities. When asked how it was
cursed, he couldn’t answer. “Any rumors concerning this town? Perhaps of the more
adventurous variety?” You asked the barkeeper with a sly smile.

“Someone as pretty as you crawling around in dungeons? I’d never have guessed! Well, this
used to be a small town called Scelptar. I’ve heard a legend that the High Dukes of Scelptar
fled into the underways of these castles with their treasures. Unless the High Dukes survived
the passage and made it elsewhere, their treasures might still be down there.” Addanil was
listening to the entire conversation through your own perception.

“That’s fascinating! Do you know where one might find these castles?” You asked.

“Follow the road east. It’s easy to miss. The castles are nothing but toppled stones and ruins
now. I’ll warn you. Those tunnels are said to be full of monsters and probably lead into the
Underdark.” The barkeeper informed you.

“Thanks for the warning. What other shops are around here?” You asked him.

“We have a wagonmaker called Trauneth’s Conveyences. They do repairs too. Maurdren is
our local blacksmith. Delvar Yuncharr’s who you want for general goods. He’s at Yuncharr’s
Usefuls.” The barkeeper tells you.

“Thank you, I hope you have a great day, sir!” You bid farewell to him cheerfully. You
returned to Addanil who simply won’t stop fidgeting. On you way across to your room, you
saw the hunters from last night filing into the tavern to celebrate. You gave them a friendly
wave and returned to your room with Addanil in tow.

“So… Hidden treasure?” You wondered aloud to him. Once the door was shut and the
windows shuttered, Addanil removed his hat.

“That may or may not even exist.” He said pessimistically.

“If there’s passages to the Underdark, they’d be of interest to you…” You pondered.

“They would, but I know that’s not what you want. To return to the dark with me…” Addanil
pointed out. You were surprised to hear him say that.

“You are light. You are sunshine and warmth. I saw it in your face this morning.” He told
you.

“Do you know where you are yet? Addanil owes Trezzir money. Are you still with him?” It
was another sending from Welvyer to you.

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell you, but we’re really far away. I don’t want to be involved
with your squabbles over money.” You recognized the voice as Welvyr and replied
accordingly.
“You owe Trezzir money?? They’re pestering me over it and asking where we are.” You
frown.

“Yes… He did spend some coin to help me find you…” Addanil sounded embarrassed and
regretful that they’re involving you.

“Addanil? Where are you?” Welvyr sent one last sending to Addanil.

“The Border Kingdoms. Never ever contact my partner again. If you ever find me and make it
here, I’ll pay you. Until then, fuck off!” Addanil replied sternly.

“I’ll make sure they don’t bother you ever again. I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Addanil
said. “Whether this treasure is real or not, I suppose it’s worth investigating. There might be
something of value down there. Or there might be certain doom. Either way, we can’t sit
around and do nothing…” He pondered.

“Maybe I can get us some pity discounts. After all, we were robbed, right?” You whispered.
He was surprised just how cunning and devious your mind could be.

“Yes, we haven’t much left… We’re just merchants trying to get back on our feet…” Addanil
agreed.

“First we’ll acquire our wagon and a horse. Well shit, we’d need someone to watch the horse
while we’re dungeon delving… And we’ll need a helpful guide to lead the way!” You
pondered. “What if we recruited those hunters?” You suggested.

“Absolutely not! I don’t want that sleazy Tavoril near you!” He protested into his voice box.

“A gross liar he is, indeed.” You admitted. “He could be useful if we send him in front. We’ll
know there’s monsters before they even see us.” You tell him.

Addanil’s eyes widened before his tentacles curled smugly. “The halfling can watch our
things and the human can protect the rear. We’ll of course have to give them a fair cut should
their assistance lead us to wealth.”

“What? Why??” He asked, baffled. They wouldn’t have to pay them at all if they were doing
it themselves!

“I don’t want you dominating any minds in this hamlet. Word gets around fast in small
settlements like this. I’m only thinking about your safety…” You whispered insistently.
“Fine…” He crossed his arms, grumbling. You knew better than him about what surface
settlements were like.

“Stay here. I’ll see if the hunters are still there. I’ll have them meet us at the tavern tomorrow
morning."

You decided to head back across the dirt road to the tavern. You were in luck. The hunters
were still there. “Good afternoon, gentleman! I wanted to thank you so much for helping us
find our way!” You tell them.

“It’s no trouble at all!” Bilban greeted. “Glad you made it!”

“I was actually wondering. Do you know anything about the ruined castles east of Selpt?”
You asked them.

“You want to go ruin delving, do you?” Tavoril asked, smirking as he looked at you. He
wished he could delve into your ruins.

“Perhaps, if you’ll show me the way… If the treasure does indeed exist, you’ll all get a cut.
We need some brave and capable monster hunters to help us.” You tried to appeal to the half
elf first.

“Count me in!” Tavoril responded.

“You didn’t even discuss it with us!” Aseir groaned.

“They’re probably desperate to recoup their losses. It wouldn’t be right to let them and the
merchant go in there alone.” Bilban agreed with Tavoril. “Besides, we’ll be getting paid even
if there’s no treasure. The monsters we slay might hold some value.” He said.

“I understand dungeon delving isn’t something most people can do. We are also going to
purchase a horse and wagon, and we’ll need someone to ensure it isn’t stolen or attacked. We
can pay you for guarding.” You negotiated. It sounded like easy pay to the Calishite man.
“Alright. You have yourself a deal.” Aseir agreed.

“Wonderful!” You smiled brightly. “We will meet you here tomorrow morning. We only have
a couple gemstones left so we’re using the last of our funds to prepare. Otherwise, I would
have paid you up front…” You lamented about your finances.
“It’s alright. I understand.” Bilban said in a sympathetic tone. “We’re flattered you thought of
coming to us for help! We’ll see you tomorrow.” He said. You practically skipped back to the
inn to tell Addanil the good news.

“They’re so cute...” Tavoril commented after you left.

“Stop!” Bilban slapped his leg. “They have a boyfriend!” The halfling scolded.

“I can still admire from afar! It’s not bad to look…” Tavoril pouted.

You returned to your room. “They’re in!” You pumped your fist excitedly.

“That’s great but how are you going to start explaining my ‘weird power’ If we do need to
fight?” Addanil asked.

“You think humans can’t use psionics too? I’ll just tell them you’re a psion if they ask. It’s
not that weird. Humans don’t use psionics often but they’re capable of it.”

“Well that’s news to me!”

“You’re probably going to learn a lot of things up here. Get your hat on. We’re going
shopping.” After he situated his disguise, you tugged on his wrist, eager to get the day’s task
down. “We’re going to meet them at the tavern tomorrow.” You tell him.

“Excuse me, could we rent the room for another night?” You ask Malorie, the innkeeper. You
placed two more silver pieces on the counter.

“Of course. Just try not to wake our other guests this time, you little scamp!” She teased you.
You blushed and covered your face at that.

“My apologies… We’ll be more mindful.”

“Curses…” You heard in your mind from Addanil. How embarrassing. Malorie giggled at
your reaction.

You grabbed Addanil’s hand and headed out of Tattercloaks. You had a long day ahead of
you.
 I Want to Stay With You Pt.2
Chapter Summary

Raphraxus meets Syllan's party. No wonder Syllan smelled like ghaik!

“Well… I guess the only course of action is to introduce you to everybody. They’re supposed
to be my friends, right? If I can’t lean on them, who can I trust?” Syllan sounded nervous.
Raphraxus also wonders what he got himself into. Ormebela just moved into the corner of the
room to hopefully avoid whatever spells or weapons were flung her master’s way.

“You’re not going to help me?!” He looked at the dwarf.

“You didn’t give me a chance to pack any weapons. Don’t you trust the lad?” She protested.
“Go on. Lean on yer shining knight.” She said sarcastically.

Syllan forgot to lock the door. “Havin’ fun without us are ya?” The half orc bard, Zarimm,
opened it hastily, thinking that he had a prostitute or something only to see a big buff
ulitharid staring at him. The half orc’s jaw dropped. He stared for several moments. He tried
to shut it quietly and slowly but Yar’rel caught him by surprise and burst in.

“I KNEW IT! I knew you smelled like ghaik! You’ve been fornicating with a mind flayer!”
Yar’rel sounded absolutely disgusted.

“Uh, actually Raphraxus is an ulitharid and you’re having sex with a crusty lich, you
necrophile! Sit the hell down.” Syllan retorted, bringing himself between Raphraxus and
Yar’rel. It was the most confident anyone in his party had heard Syllan speak

“He’s not crusty! And he can cast Magnificent Mansion which is far more useful than-”
Yar’rel was cut off by the bard.

“No one wants to hear about your weird wizard sexy time, Yar’rel. Why can’t you two have
normal fetishes?” Zarimm groaned.

“Yes, we know. You’re really into asses. You’re so normal.” Syllan rolled his eyes.

A short human wizard with her brown hair in a messy bun closes and locks the door. “What
the fuck is going on? Can we address the aberration in the room?” Phoebe asked.
Syllan poked his fingers together shyly. “Th-this is my boyfriend, Raphraxus… He decided
he wanted to leave Oryndoll and uh, here we are…?” He squeaked.

A collective groan from the party. “There is literally a thrall right there!” Yar’rel points to the
dwarf.

“So?? We’ll pay her. There. Not a slave anymore. She’s a servant.” Zarimm said. It seemed
simple in the bard’s mind!

“It’s really not that simple…” Phoebe clarified. “If you’re going to stay here, you can’t be
enslaving people.” She looked up at Raphraxus. His tentacles poked together nervously. “If
she wants to work for us after we get her mind back in order, then we’ll hire her. Did you two
think any of this through?” The wizard asked.

“Of course-” Raphraxus began.

“Absolutely not.” Syllan interrupted.

“I’m starting to think you’re enjoying talking a little too much…” Raphraxus was starting to
blush. “I’m stupid and Raphraxus was in the heat of the moment. Please help us.” Syllan
admitted.

“You’re not stupid. Do not degrade yourself just because your intellect is not as vast as
mine.” Raphraxus tried not to let Syllan put himself down this time.

“Okay. That answers that. Everyone be calm for 10 minutes. I need to cast Private Sanctum.
If you left without so much as a goodbye, every Ulitharid and Mind Flayer Psion will be
scrying to try to find you. I don’t want those kinds of eyes on us.” Phoebe explained.

“You’re going to bring a whole colony on our heads! You fool!” Yar’rel hissed. She moved to
pounce at Syllan. She wanted to strangle him! Raphraxus easily pushed her back with
telekinesis. To prevent her from casting spells he quickly restrained her in a light chokehold.
With a thick tentacle over her mouth, she wouldn't be using any verbal components.

Syllan had trained him well. He winced as the angry githyanki bit him. "Tear into me all you
want. You will not harm Syllan even if I lose all my tentacles." His grip never loosened nor
tightened. "There's not an ounce of muscle between you four, is there?" Raphraxus asked
Syllan. He was remarkably calm for having his most sensitive parts being chewed into. He
was purposefully calm to keep things from escalating.
"Let's not get mad and cause commotion, be at ease, calm your emotion." Zarimm made
calming hand movements at the warlock githyanki as he cast Calm Emotions. Yar'rel's teeth
stopped sinking into the ulitharid's flesh and Raphraxus released her.

"The colony will not come down on our heads if we use precautions… They've got at least a
couple hundred ulitharids. They'll eventually stop missing this one." Phoebe said. She'd done
her research after meeting Syllan.

"Where are we keeping this thing?? How are we hiding it?" Zarimm asked.

"He's not a thing or an animal!" Syllan snapped.

"Alright squid fucker, I'll respect his pronouns as long as he respects my brain." The half orc
responds.

"I brought a couple of brains. I'll be fine for a couple months." Raphraxus said. "Syllan's
visits to me were completely of his own free will. I do not force him to return to me. That is
why I wanted to stay with him." He assured the bard.

"The only person who knew the lad was in the colony was me!" Ormebela spoke up, once she
was sure there would be no bloodbath.

"Sorry for ignoring you." Zarimm apologized. "And who might you be?"

"Ormebela. I clean up his other messes. This one's all him though." She introduces herself.

"I refuse to believe that you used no mind tricks!" Yar'rel tells Raphraxus.

"Does mind blowing sex count as a trick?" Syllan thought. "You have your weird
relationship. Let me have mine." He tells her.

"Who are you and what the hell have you done with Syllan?" Yar'rel asked.

"I've been trying to improve his confidence. Don't you think he deserves to speak freely?"
Raphraxus shared his honest thoughts. Yar'rel looked conflicted.

"You get to live. For now. Don't you try anything." She tells the ulitharid.

"I could have easily snapped you like a twig, yet I did not." Raphaxus pointed out. "Just get
your undead abomination to kill me if I'm that much of a problem for you. He apparently
spoils you as it is." He rolled his eyes.

"He does not spoil me! I worked hard for my power!" Yar'rel growled.

"Oh, we're considering sexual favors to be work now?" Raphraxus teased.

Zarimm and Syllan laughed as Yar'rel's cheeks turned pink. "Alright, he's funny, but what
about feeding him after his supply runs out?" Zarimm asked.

"We're adventurers. It's not hard for us to meet intelligent things that want to kill us." Phoebe
points out.

"That's the fucking truth." Zarimm agreed. The private sanctum finally spread to cover the
room completely.

"The spell is ready. It will last for a day. You can't leave this room if you want to remain
hidden. We need to buy time to figure out what we are doing." Phoebe told Raphraxus. "What
creed did you belong to anyway?"

"I was a tamer…" He replied.

"Aren't they supposed to refrain from using psionics…?"

Raphraxus blushed at her question. "Well, yes, but- You're not my creed-master. I don't have
to answer that!" He crossed his arms defiantly.

"You were doing it anyway." She smirked.

"He could be useful. The three of us combined can't lift a piece of parchment." Zarimm
joked.

"We don't need this ghaik! Phoebe has her big hand spell." Yar'rel argues.

"Bigby's Hand." Phoebe corrected her.

"And?? It'll be like having two of 'em!" Zarimm debated. "Wait… What are your parents
going to say, Syllan!? They seem so… Normal!" The half-orc had to know.

"Look at my green scales. Does it look like my ancestors made good decisions?" Syllan
asked in a deadpan manner. "Hey wait! Zarimm you're a genius!" He smiled.
"No he's not." Raphraxus said bluntly. Phoebe snorted at that.

"What I meant is that he gave me an idea. Smartass." Syllan shook his head.

"Oh boy, they're getting ideas now, Raphraxus. Ye best watch out!" Ormebela quipped
sarcastically.

"My mom's got an Amulet of Proof against Detection and Location back from when a creepy
wizard was stalking her. Maybe we can get her to let us borrow it!" Syllan suggests.

"Slow down… Meeting your family? Syllan, what if they reject us?" Raphraxus loved Syllan.
Depriving him of his family felt wrong.

"You left your whole colony behind for me! If we have to face the consequences alone, I'll do
it." Syllan said.

"You don't have to be alone, Syllan. You have my spells." Phoebe encouraged.

"And my song!" Zarimm added. They all looked at Yar'rel.

"You'll get my tolerance…" She said. It was good enough!

"My mother's really nice but if she rejects me I've got my big strong aberration with me."
Syllan hugged Raphraxus.

"Bleh. We'll never be rid of ghaik stink now…" Yar'rel grumbled.

"Oh, like your lover smells any better! He smells ancient." Syllan stuck his tongue out at her.

"He does smell like really old books." The bard agreed.

"Well maybe I like old books!" Yar'rel pouted.

"So that's our plan? Visit your folks and hope they don't lose it? I guess if worse comes to
worse and Zarimm can't work his charms…" Phoebe ponders.

"I've got it! We can disguise him! Yeah… If you arrange your tentacles just riiight I can make
you look like a goliath with big tiddies!" Zarimm grinned.

"No." Raphraxus didn't like that idea. Ormebela was snickering.

"I might die if ye did that!"

"Look, the only thing I got for magical disguise is Seeming and Polymorph. So unless you
want to be a horse or something…" Zarimm offered the only options he can think of.

"What if we just put him in clothes that hide his features?" Phoebe asked. "We can touch it up
with illusions. Less work that way."

"Oh. Right." The bard felt silly.

"So it's settled. Syllan, the three of us will shop for clothes to disguise your boyfriend.
Ormebela is coming with us. You'll stay with Raphraxus and make sure no one sees him.
While we're at it we should probably think of a new city to go to.” Phoebe put together the
plan. “The further we’re away from Oryndoll, the better. I’m thinking of Baldur's Gate.”

“I’m a bard so I have to ask. Does he really Baldur your Gate?” Zarimm asked.

“I never sleep through it when he does.” Ormebela answered for them. Syllan’s face turned
red. He thought he’d done a good job at being quiet! At least quiet enough not to bother
Ormebela. Raphraxus hugged him close. Syllan’s earlier bravado was dashed by his
embarrassment.

“Do you want me to eat him?” Raphraxus asked.

“N-no!” Syllan stammered. “That’s just him… Could you just go already, please??” Syllan
asked Zarimm.

“Oh, damn. It’s like that, huh?” Zarimm asked.

“I’ve seen the forbidden room.” Ormebela teased.

“Leeeeave!” Syllan whined. Phoebe makes sure the coast is clear before getting everyone out
of the room.

“We’ll uh, be back in a couple hours. I’ll put an arcane lock on this for extra security.” The
wizard tells them.

“I’ll hang a sock on the door for you!” Zarimm joked.

Once they were gone, Syllan flopped onto his bed, covering his face. Raphraxus moved his
hands from his face, gently pinning his arms down. “Raphraxus…” Syllan was so
embarrassed, he couldn’t look him in the eye.

“You know your blushing cheeks look even cuter in this light.” The aberration softly teased
him. Syllan grew quiet again. He couldn’t think quite right when Raphraxus handled him like
this. “So you made more than a little noise. Who cares?” He pulled Syllan into his lap and
held him close. “I love hearing your voice, no matter what. I’ll beat whoever has a problem
with it to death.”

Syllan started to smile softly. “It doesn’t matter what other people think of you. You’re far
braver than you know. You’re loyal, resilient and adventurous. I could not ask for a better
companion in this strange phase of my life.” Raphraxus praised him. “I’m proud of you for
using your words to defend me. You did very well today.”

Syllan was never one to take compliments well. He could never believe it was genuine for
himself. When Raphraxus’ voice filled his mind, he knew it was true. He wasn’t like most
Ulitharids. He wasn’t spiteful. He loved Syllan as an equal. Raphraxus wanted him to
succeed. Syllan wanted so badly for him to succeed with him.

“It’s thanks to you, I could.” Syllan said softly. “You’re my courage.”

“And you’re my cute little dragon.” Raphraxus teased. “More like a pseudodragon in
strength but…” He laughed darkly at Syllan’s blushing. “I truly do love you.” He pressed his
tentacle against Syllan’s lips. The shy sorcerer kissed his tentacle lovingly. “You’re my
courage too…”
 A Tried & True Tethered Method
Chapter Summary

Zusrall tries something new with (you).

You’d been undergoing some new training from Zusrall. You loved when he taught you new
things. You’ve been taking your spankings like a good thrall, but right now you were sitting
in his lap in his leather chair. You were continuing your reading of Tender Rogue for your
master. He wanted to find out what happened next, and you were just as eager to find out as
well. Gallahne would not be getting her own quarters after all. “You’re the only cabin boy
I’ve got. You put yourself in that position, so you’ll stay in it until I tell you otherwise. Or
have you also forgotten that I’m captain around here?” You read the line. You subconsciously
imagined Stuth’s lines in Zusrall’s voice in your mind. He started to laugh.

“Why are you reading Stuth’s dialogue in my voice? Am I your captain?” Your master teased
you.

“I can’t help it, master! The association has become too strong!” You blushed.

“I shall be your captain. It amuses me.” He permitted you to continue reading. A scandalous
bombshell was dropped in chapter 23. Gallahne mentioned that Stuth was old enough to be
her father. Stuth revealed he had a son of 18 years. Stuth had a son!? He was previously
married!?

“Whaaaaaaat? Nooo! The author can’t just drop details like that on me!” You were surprised.

“Stuth doesn’t hide his secrets all that well, does he?” Zusrall commented. You were
giggling and continued to read.

“He was in his prime. How dare the wench call him old?” You snorted at that line. "How old
are you, Master?"

"Young enough to see you into old age." He replied.

"But old enough to be my father?" You asked teasingly.

"I'm only 39! Illithid lifespans are 25% longer than human life spans. Don't you dare call me
old!" He sounded incredulous at your teasing.
You tried and failed to do the math, attempting to count on your fingers. You weren't good at
math. He grabbed your wrists with his tentacles as if to subtly scold you.

"I'm sorry. I was just curious. I don't care how old you are, Master." You assured him you
meant nothing by it. You would have loved him even if he were a thousand years old.

"In a hypothetical situation where I were your father, I would have been 20 years old." He
decided to sate your curiosity, if only to put the topic to rest.

You never knew your father. Most thralls born in Oryndoll didn't unless they came from
prestigious breeding such as the platinum thralls. Whim likely belonged on at least one
pedigree record, you figured. You haven't seen your mother since you were 10. You began
training for the breeding stock at 18. Besides reading, it was the only thing you were really
good at. You weren't personal stock but he quickly felt a connection to you as if you could
somehow mend the grief over his lost personal thrall. He never talked about them to you.

You worked hard to earn that golden collar. He felt you deserved it, even if you'd likely never
end up on a pedigree. You dutifully finish the chapter in which Gallahne begins to feel just a
bit guilty for hurting Stuth's pride at the end. In the next chapter, Stuth offers the half-elf
wench some brandy. You knew what alcohol was from your books and peeking into the Skull
Cup, but you'd never tasted it or truly understood what being under it's influence was like.
Zusrall never allowed you to try such intoxicants, and you never asked.

Gallahne was 22 years old, a few years older than you. She preferred a drink called Zzar to
brandy. You knew little of either. Stuth just so conveniently happened to have a bottle. In
their passionate, argumentative banter, Zusrall thought of it as a mental tug of war between
the two main characters. The battle of wills fascinated him. You narrated as Stuth challenges
Gallahne to a game of dragonchess. Zusrall had taught you how to play but he always beat
you at the game. Against anyone else who couldn't read your moves before you made them,
you were sure you could win.

It seemed like Stuth would win but her mere presence and the conversation about their
destinations distracted him and she won. He also served as a distraction for her, dressed in a
silk robe that made him look tantalizing to her. Maybe you'd have to try such tricks the next
time you played dragonchess. "Don't even think about it." Zusrall playfully scolded you. "If
you tried such charms on me, I think I'd have to spank you." He teased. His words sent a
shiver up your spine. It moved up your neck, to the base of your scalp until you let out a
sharp breath.
"Phew…" You found yourself blushing. Your master felt a smug sense of satisfaction at the
effect he had on you.

Seeing if Stuth could tame the bratty half-elf was indeed an interesting tale to Zusrall. Every
time Stuth seemed so close to conquering Gallahne, she seemed to elude him. It was
frustratingly entertaining. "It kind of seems like they're conquering each other. I know I
worded that strangely but even when Gallahne is mad at Stuth, she so far can't seem to stop
thinking about him."

"So they're equals in will power? Fascinating." Zusrall thought about your analysis of the
book. "Speaking of distractions… I'd like to take you to the Breeding Pen. I arranged to meet
with Vizaness and her thrall." Today was his day off. You can't remember the last time you
went there on an off day. " Purely for pleasure today."

"Did you want to kiss me again?" You asked. You smiled with rosy cheeks. You loved
helping him fulfill his fantasies. The eagerness with which he made Kalamash kiss you left
you breathless.

"Yes. We'll be trying something new as well." He informed you. "Go retrieve your leash." He
commands. You set the book aside with its bookmark and get out of your master's lap. You
get your leash and immediately return to him with it. He could sense the curiosity in your
mind. “Patience, my prize thrall. You’ll know soon enough.”

You couldn’t hide your excitement as a smile formed on your lips. Was it another surprise?
What could it be? You stayed perfectly still as he hooked the chain leash to your collar. It was
so strong and secure. He always kept a good grip on it. No matter how distracted your
excitable mind got, he always put you back where you belonged. Right by his side. He found
your reaction amusing and adorable. You were so familiar with the leash, you could follow
him at even the slightest tug. It was as if you were in sync, the chain was a tether between
you and him.

Outside of The Breeding Pen was an illithid trying to drag a dwarf into the caverns. The
stubborn dwarf woman pouts, making her cheeks look particularly chubby as the collar
pushed against her face. To get the thrall moving once more, the illithid successfully
dominates her mind. Zusrall shook his head at the scene. “A rather pathetic display.” Zusrall
lamented to you. “Are you here for training services?” He asked the less experienced
illithid.
“Yes…” They seemed somewhat embarrassed that an older illithid was looking down on
them.

“Just a tip from me: Constantly using domination is fine! If you want a gibbering, drooling
moron with a broken mind, good for little more than guard fodder. I hope you pay attention.”
Zusrall held his head up high as he walked away with you into the Breeding Pen . You
followed him easily, not turning to look back at the dwarf and their master.

“You’re doing a good job, showing off your obedience.” Zusrall’s praise makes you smile. “I
really hope that isn’t their first personal thrall. Dwarves are a famously stubborn thrall race.
I’m surprised they were able to get them to the entrance…” He commented to you
absentmindedly.

“I’m sure you’d have that thrall in obedient form in no time, Master!” You complimented.
“You’re a great trainer!” You smiled when being his personal cheerleader. It felt genuine to
you. Zusrall patted your head. If no one else appreciated him, you did.

Vizaness was actually on time for once! “You’re late, Zusrall. I think I’ll have to charge you
extra for my time! Look how antsy poor Kalamash is!”

“I don’t believe I owe you a single mindgate! I was merely collecting interest on your
tardiness!” Zusrall replied.

“Hmph… Very well. I suppose we will call that debt repaid then.” She graciously conceded.
“As long as you’re paying, you can indulge in your weird lip service fetish as much as you
like. I find it’s quite a motivating reward for Kalamash as well.” She regarded him smugly.

“Oh. I’m the weird one. You lost a dominance game in under two minutes of being kissed.
You can barely control your prize thrall once he gets his hands on another thrall! I think you
quite like losing yourself to him, don’t you?” Zusrall teased. Vizaness’ eyes widened. Her
face turned pale.

“I assure you, I have perfect control over Kalamash! Is my name Dallimeze?!” She snapped.
Zusrall made her feel weak. She once had a crush on him, but she had no chance. She’d lost
out to a thrall and she knew it. She didn’t know if she could handle the truth that Zusrall had
caught onto.

“Mhm… Sure you do.” He said sarcastically

“Oh, like you could do any better. You’ve felt what he does to his playmates.” Vizaness
debated.
“I suppose I can’t entirely blame you. The fact you could even stay in Natiri’s thoughts is a
marvel of its own.” He conceded. She had her own strengths, not that he’d openly admit
them.

You wonder why your master hadn’t taken you off your leash yet. You watched him
expectantly. “Ah, We’ve kept our thralls waiting long enough, haven’t we?” He commented
at Vizaness. “We’re leaving the leash on this time. I’ll be taking over for a little bit,
Kalamash. Are you ready?” Zusrall asked him.

Kalamash nodded eagerly. Oh boy! Smooching time! It was his favorite foreplay activity and
Zusrall helped him indulge it. He loved not having to think as he got the attention he craved.
Something was a little bit different as Zusrall handed him your leash. “What are we doing
with this?” He mentally asked Zusrall.

“Just trying something new…” Zusrall told him. Kalamash’s arm pulled you in close by the
leash, and the half-orc’s lips pressed against yours. You gasped softly in surprise, then
eagerly kissed him. You felt Vizaness observing your mind.

“Oh my, I think they like this new method, Zusrall.” Vizaness pointed out. Zusrall uses
Kalamash to kiss you passionately.You allow his tongue entry into your mouth. It didn’t taste
as good as Zusrall’s tentacles but you didn’t protest against making him happy. It certainly
wasn’t an unpleasant experience. You were kissed until you were a panting mess. He then
pulled you to the bed.

“Get on your hands and knees.” Zusrall’s voice in your mind compelled you. You obey
without hesitation, climbing onto the bed and facing Kalamash. Kalamash’s arm pulls you
down towards his hardened erection. You instantly submit, eagerly sucking the half-orc’s
cock. The half-orc’s hand firmly held your head, encouraging you to bob your head on his
member. Zusrall purred approvingly. “That’s a good thrall…” Kalamash’s other hand was
holding the leash.

Vizaness was finding herself incredibly turned on, wanting to further add to your pleasure.
The way Zusrall controlled thralls was an art form to her. She gently ran her fingers through
your hair, keeping it out of your face. You were sinking deeper into bliss at her touch.
Kalamash moaned softly as your lips eagerly wrapped around his cock. Few were brave
enough to try that. One of his nicknames among thralls and illithids alike was “Choking
Hazard”.
“Let’s see how much you can take…” Zusrall challenged. You knew what he intended to do.
You attempted your very best to brace for it. He tugged the leash, stuffing the entire length
down your throat. Vizaness squirmed upon feeling you gag. “Stuth!” You thought. You were
pulled back, a trail of spit drips down your chin as you catch your breath. Vizaness gasped.
“An earnest effort.” Zusrall praised.

“You could have warned me it would be like that!” Vizaness blushes.

“If you didn’t do your research beforehand, that’s your own fault.” Zusrall smugly teased.

“Are you alright?” Kalamash asked you.

“Yes. I’m fine.” You reassured him. “You’re such a big guy.” You giggled softly before
giving his hard cock a kiss. Kalamash’s cock twitched at the sight and sensation of your lips
on it.

“Hnnnhhhh!” Your Master purred more loudly from the sensation. It sounded like he really
enjoyed that. You kissed it some more. Kalamash came on your face. He couldn’t help
himself. It was if Zusrall’s immense pleasure at your actions compelled him to. Kalamash
sighed pleasantly.

“S-sorry…” Kalamash apologized. Zusrall released his hold on the half-orc, allowing him to
clean your face up.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” You give him a smile. “It’s my pleasure to make you feel good!
You can cum wherever you want, as much as you want.” You assured him. You still wanted
to test Kalamash out with that new aphrodisiac going around, but it was in such demand, your
master never got the chance.

“Thank you. That was really nice.” He sat back, relaxing.

“Do you want me to use you now?” He asked you.

“Yes, Master! I need it so very badly. Pretty please.” You begged. Zusrall took your leash and
moved behind you. You bend over for him. Meanwhile Vizaness pushes Kalamash down and
drapes herself over him. Her tentacle reaches out, stroking his sensitive cock. When he
wasn’t leaving the minds of other thralls a mess, she loved making him whimper. In his mind,
when she lost control he was making her feel “really really good.” He was doing a good job
when she couldn’t think because that was his way of feeling good.

You would soon be reaching that state yourself as Zusrall pulled your leash as he entered you
from behind. It didn’t take long before you were starting to drool. The pressure of the collar
against your neck reminded you that your master was always near. “No matter who you
please or where you roam, I’ll put you back where you belong. Right. By. My. Side.” His
voice practically vibrated in your mind.

“Oh, fuck!” You bit your lower lip and backed against his tentacles eagerly. There was
nowhere else you wanted to be.

“That’s my perfect thrall.” He praised. Your needy hole was slimy and dripping. The sound
of his tentacles squelching in and out of you was like music to your ears. Your legs shook.
You felt that familiar sensation building up. You propped your head up with your elbows,
resting your chin in your palms. An eager smile spread on your face. You tuned everything
out except for him and the feeling of the collar tugged against your neck. Your master in your
mind and body was always enough to bring you over the edge with him.

You cum, pressing your face against the bed. Your master made a deeply pleased growl as
you reached your climax. He releases his hold on the leash and you roll onto your back to
look up at him. “That was really nice…” You sit up as Kalamash cleans you off for him.
“You did great too.” You ruffled the half-orc’s hair. He smiled at your praise, blushing
lightly.

“Alright, maybe I do like Kalamash’s raw power. Is that so bad?” Vizaness admitted. He
didn’t get to hold that over her head if she wasn’t allowing herself to be embarrassed by it.
“You certainly weren’t complaining… ” She teased. Kalamash was the closest she’d ever get
to Zusrall. She’d learned to be alright with that. Nothing could break the ties Zusrall had to
you.
 Stupid Feelings
Chapter Summary

Vebeva finally gets to explore her thrall's pleasure. Vizaness becomes her latest bullying
victim. Will she break? hot squid on squid action ensues.

The colony was finally catching wind that Raphraxus was missing. The Encephalithid was
doing what it did best. Working with the Elder Concord to sweep everything under the rug. If
it could convince the colony that Raphraxus never existed in the first place, that would be
most ideal! The ulitharids it contacted to scry and find him all said the same thing. “It’s like
he’s not even there!”

They all had their own speculation. “The investigation revealed signs of Chronic Thrall
Dependency but that doesn’t explain how they disappeared in such a complete manner.” A
Breeder Named Slisskbax pondered.

“You think the dwarf and Raphraxus planeshifted? He’s so massive, somebody would have
seen him!” The Encephalithid debated.

“I didn’t think they were like that… Oh well. I heard a rumor that he was using his psionics
as a body tamer. Good riddance! Perhaps you could use psions to seal his home up with
Stone Shape. It’d be like he was never here!” Vebeva suggested. She did give him that
sample of aphrodisiac but she wasn't about to mention that.

“An excellent idea, Vebeva!” The Encephalithid loved that idea! The truth was likely worse
than the speculation and the mystery. Perhaps there was no need to get to the bottom of it.
Just seal the rabbit hole up and don’t look down.

"Is there anything else you require or do you and the elder concord have it from here?"
Vebeva asked.

"That will be all for now. Remember we will be practicing discretion." The Encephilithid tells
them. Despite her seeming laziness, The Encephilithid considered Vebeva a great leader.
After all, a clever leader can get things done without lifting so much as a tentacle. Vebeva
was excellent at organizing and getting others to do her work for her so she could focus on
her research and living well. She was young but full of promise to lead her own colony.
It wasn't ignorant to her dealings with Dallimeze and Caramyn and the sooner that freak was
out of it's city, the better. It was tired of getting headaches caused by it's hatred of that
deranged lunatic, a fact which it hid well from the colony. "I need another massage… Go get
my drow males." The Encephilithid lamented.

Vebeva was glad that it was taken care of. She had an appointment with Vizaness today. She
was Zusrall's closest coworker yet she hadn't been to the Noble's Section yet. She was in a
generous mood because she had her own curiosity to satisfy. She would finally be getting to
feel an orgasm from Natiri. Whim would be staying home this time. He was feeling much
better but just to ensure that he got no other thralls sick, he was to remain in quarantine. It
was probably for the best. She adored Whim. She would surely be drawn to him and
distracted from her attempt again.

"Remember to stay hydrated and take breaks if you start to feel tired again." She reminded
her favorite thrall. She didn't want him working harder than he was ready to.

"Yes, Mistress. I'll be sure to care for myself." He blushed at being reminded to practice self
care. He immediately filled a cup with drinking water. He took a sip to please her. He wanted
to follow orders after all.

"That's my good boy, taking such good care of yourself!" She praised him. She patted his
head with a tentacle.

"Have a pleasant day, Mistress! Should your furniture order arrive while you're away, I'll
ensure the peons don't scuff up your floors." He said. She was expecting a new set of chairs
and a table.

"I can always count on your vigilance." She complimented him.

"No detail is too small or great for my marvelous mistress. Shall I prepare your pool on the
balcony when you return?" He asked. All of the heavy lifting was done by lizardmen. Whim
just got to boss them around. It wasn't a job she had to worry about him exerting himself
over.

"That would be wonderful, Whim. So thoughtful!" She accepted. Natiri wondered just how
much time they'd waste kissing each other's asses. She was excited to see Kalamash again.

She stood by the door, putting on her own leash. Her tail was wagging impatiently. Vebeva
bid farewell to Whim. "And don't forget to eat!" She gave him one last reminder. He was just
getting his appetite back from his illness. She moved to Natiri, unhooking the leash. "You can
walk with me without that, yes?" She wrapped it up and hung it up. Natiri looked surprised
but nodded. "So much lighter that way, isn't it?" Vebeva knew her tiefling thrall wasn't going
anywhere. Even when she was bratty, she wasn't annoying or easily distracted when walking.
She once nearly punted one of Erux's goblins for touching her silk robes. Natiri was far better
than that even at her worst.

Natiri was well behaved, sticking with her just as Whim would have. It was strangely nice
not being on the leash. It was as if a weight had been lifted off of her. "You ordered new
furniture, mistress?" Natiri tried to make small talk with her mistress.

"Indeed. I think you might like it. I got you something too. It's a surprise." She confirmed.
The mistress got her a present? She was initially cautious.

“Thank you, Mistress. I’m sure it will be nice.” She forced herself to show appreciation.

Vebeva met with Vizaness and brought her to the Noble’s Section. A Breeder Named
Slisskbax was in the lobby, lecturing a newly adult ulitharid on The Nature of The Thrall.
“You see my dear Rylux, nothing you perceive here exists without the thrall. Even our great
Encephalithid was once a humble thrall. The instinct between thralls to procreate not only
feeds us and allows us to create new colony members, It also fuels many important industries
such as my very own!” A Breeder Named Slisskbax had acquired it from its previous owner
and greatly expanded upon its caverns so that it could house his own menagerie of exotic
thralls. When he acquired the festhall, the place was quite literally just a pen.

“So you don’t believe in placing Illithids over thralls?” Rylux asked.

“I don’t think that’s a sentiment that A Breeder Named Slisskbax can acquiesce in. Don’t get
me wrong! A Breeder Named Slisskbax will put a lot of things over a thrall! Knowledge?
Always. Brand new robes over a thrall? Absolutely! I’d eat my rarest thrall just to sit in an
elder brain’s place! But flayers? Oh no! A Breeder Named Slisskbax won’t do a damn thing
for the flayers! Unless the flayer wants to climb that hierarchy and get those mindgates, the
flayer won’t get a damn thing! That sounds like some Darkener Creed shit to me!” A Breeder
Named Slisskbax iterated.

The festhall’s owner noticed Vizaness and Vebeva. “Speaking of climbing that hierarchy,
welcome to the fold, Vizaness!” He didn’t look down on her nearly as much as he had the
likes of Zusrall or Erux. Vizaness was once one of his very own thralls. Her host was a sun
elf from his exotic menagerie. This was the first time She’d ever been to the Noble’s Section.
Not even her host had been in here.

“Thank you, A Breeder Named Slisskbax. It is an honor.” She said humbly. She made sure to
say the whole name. He hated it when it was shortened to Slisskbax.
“Your room’s ready. At least, it better be , or me and my new thrall are going to have a little
discussion about tardiness!” A Breeder Named Slisskbax straightened his robes. “You let me
know if it’s not.”

The room was indeed cleaned and prepared. Vizaness was quietly impressed. She couldn’t
believe Zusrall got to experience this before her! Up until recently she had been his superior.
“I didn’t see Zusrall with you when I arrived.” Vebeva noted.

“We’re coworkers not conjoined twins.” Vizaness chuckled.

“Coworkers that play with each other’s thralls. What a strange professional relationship.”
Vebeva teased. “Is that some kind of Nourisher Creed social trend?” She asked, taking a
frosted crystal wine glass of chilled water into her hand. It had golden filigree around the rim.
Ilsensine’s tentacles! The opulence was off the charts!

Vizaness’ cheeks grew slightly pale. “There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun
sometimes, right?” She asked. Kalamash made sure Natiri got as many oysters as she wanted
first. He was a gentleman and made sure that his partner ate as much as they wanted first
before he got anything.

“That’s valid. After all, that’s why we’re here. So what do you think of that peon, Zusrall?”
She decided to make small talk. To look out for her weaknesses, see what she could poke and
prod at. The minds of thralls were malleable in most cases, but illithids were far more fun to
pick apart.

Vizaness knew the kind of games Vebeva liked to play. She’d heard stories. She called every
common illithid a peon unless they were a member of the Elder Concord or somehow of a
higher station than her. “He’s… A good acquaintance.” She settled on answering. Vebeva
sensed a hint of uncertainty.

“It seems like you know him quite well actually!” She teased. Vizaness was wise to what the
ulitharid was trying to do. Vebeva liked to make the “peons” struggle to hold onto their
secrets. Vizaness wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. “I did like him… Once quite a bit. So
what? It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel the same and he never will.” She admitted.

Vebeva was surprised by her forwardness. She wasn’t sure how to process it. Vizaness saw no
sense in hiding it. The ulitharid would find out anyway. No better place than this psionically
protected room to admit it. There was a hint of melancholy in her feelings. Feelings
unrequited. “Is this what you do with everyone you bring back here? Does it amuse you to
break others down? I suppose we all have our hobbies.” Vizaness pondered.
If she were angry about this, she showed it as little more than a ripple upon a pond. “You’re
cranky because you caught feelings for Zusrall, aren’t you?” Vizaness sounded smug. Her
childish teasing was enough to rip her heart out. She turned away from their thralls so
Kalamash wouldn’t see her distress.

“You insatiable tormentor!” Her eyes welled up with tears. Her face was getting increasingly
slimier.

“Are you crying??” Vebeva blinked in surprise. It was the first time she’d ever felt guilt. She
knew this feeling well. Whim felt it on the rare occasion when he made a mistake. She poked
at something she shouldn’t have. Vizaness pushed Vebeva out of her thoughts.

“I don’t like your games. They wound me.” Vizaness held back from breaking down
completely.

“ Vizaness, calm down.” The ulitharid pushed her way back into Vizaness’ mind, like a
proverbial salesman sticking their foot into the door.

“All this talk of bonds and I can’t seem to understand any of it! It makes me feel inferior!
What the hell does a thrall have that I don’t?” Vizaness couldn’t calm down. She was alright
with her current situation until Vebeva came to tear it all down!

“What unique question you pose! You’re thinking about this too hard. Lacking another peon’s
affections doesn’t mean you are lacking in qualities worthy of recognition. I wouldn’t tolerate
your presence if you did.” Vebeva wrapped one of her tentacles around Vizaness’. It’s length
was twice that of the illithid’s. Vizaness’ face grew hot as it squeezed and coiled around her
own.

“Using my own tricks against me…” Vizaness realized what had happened. She ended up
driving Zusrall and his thrall even closer that day during her dominance game. “You want to
know what the funny part is? That damned thrall came from my stock. They exist because of
me.” She admitted. Vebeva started to laugh.

“That is funny! You do indeed breed fine stock, Vizaness.” She complimented her. And then it
hit her. Perhaps she didn’t have to be sad after all. In a way, part of her was always with him.
Her work created something that Zusrall loved so much and so dearly that he wanted to kiss
it. It didn’t have to be a bad thing after all.

“Uhm… Mistress… Is it alright to start now…?” Kalamash asked. He was blushing as Natiri
was kissing him, touching him sensually and getting him all worked up. She nodded to him.
“Well then… Are you sure you’ll be able to handle what Kalamash can do? The results with
our aphrodisiac on him have been rather intense.” It was Vizaness’ turn to tease back. She
knew most illithids couldn’t handle the things Kalamash did to them.

“Oh, please. Falling off is for peons…” Vebeva rolled her eyes.

“You want to make a friendly wager on that? Whoever drops out last wins?” Vizaness
challenged.

“Challenge accepted.” Vebeva couldn’t back down, but she did gain a modicum of respect
for Vizaness. Anyone who could stand up to her bullying was someone worth keeping
around. It meant they were strong. Whether they shed tears or not didn’t matter. Vebeva and
Vizaness observed her mind as she worked her charms on Kalamash. She wished she could
get him to rough her up, but knew that wasn’t his nature, and that she would still enjoy
herself.

“Not as tough as he looks, is he?” Vebeva mused.

“I can’t believe people have the gall to call my big boy a hazard! He wouldn’t hurt a fly! Not
on purpose anyway.” Vizaness agreed. Kalamash was far too nice to do the rougher things
Natiri liked. The idea of spanking or hitting someone scared him. He had become so strong
that he could afford to be gentle once upon a time in his surface life. Vizaness couldn’t even
force him to do such things. He cried like a baby the one time she made him attack an
insolent duergar. He was a shield, not a blade.

“Could you… Kiss me down there, please? It feels really nice...” Kalamash shyly asked her.
His cheeks had turned red. He really liked it when Zusrall’s thrall did it. Natiri had to admit
the way he asked so politely was really cute.

“Sure thing.” She smirked at him. She teased the half-orc, trailing her kisses down his body.
When she finally gave him what he wanted, his erection throbbed at the mere touch of her
lips. He let out a soft and needy whimper.

“Half-orcs normally aren’t my type but he’s certainly…” Vebeva thought.

“Adorable?” Vizaness asked.

“Precious!” Vebeva giggled.

Natiri was getting to feel especially needy herself. She felt her mistress’ tentacle rubbing
against her soaked sex. Her tiefling thrall perhaps had an itch that could only be scratched by
her. The ulitharid reaches for her hair with another tentacle, gathering it into a ponytail and
giving a firm tug. Did Vebeva just hear a gasp from Vizaness? She pushed Natiri’s head down
on the half-orc’s thick shaft. Vebeva knew what her thrall could take. She was well prepared
for it. Natiri took every inch down her throat. Vizaness, let out a surprised gurgle!

She knew what the last time felt clear in her mind and it startled her! “You’re making some
awfully strange noises back there. Are you alright?” Vebeva teased, releasing Natiri so she
could breathe. Vizaness didn’t give up that easily! “It’ll take more than that to make me give
up. This is far from my first rodeo with your thrall. Like it or not, I know the playing field
better than you do.” Her tentacles curled smugly.

“I’ll straighten out those smug tentacles of yours, I’m sure.” Vebeva threatened. Her threat
however, wasn’t at all mean spirited. It was genuinely playful. “Come now, Natiri. Quit
teasing him. Take what you want. Don’t keep us waiting.” Vebeva knew the tiefling couldn’t
hold out much longer without becoming frustrated.

Natiri laid back, positioning herself for him. Her wagging tail showed her eagerness. “Come
on. Let’s make your mistress feel really really good.” She grinned at him. Kalamash eagerly
pinned her down and entered her. As his pace picked up, she started to pant. She kissed him
softly as he thrusted into her.

Vebeva’s breathing became a little harder. “I’m surprised you don’t breed this one!”

“His sterility can easily be undone. It is a temporary measure as orcs are not currently on
our breeding agenda. Our military fulfillment are focused on goblins right now of all things if
you can believe that!” Vizaness responded. “ And we’re just getting started here…” Vizaness
teased her opponent. “Harder, Kalamash.” Vizaness commanded. As Natiri’s moans grew in
volume with the slapping of flesh against flesh, Vebeva and Vizaness let out gurgled
whimpers of their own. Vizaness loved her thrall’s raw power as he reduced other thralls into
empty headed bliss.

Vebeva thought Vizaness’ confidence was cute, but she had to remind her that the Noble’s
Section belonged to nobles. She pinned Vizaness to the bed by her wrists. Her tentacles
intertwined with hers. If she was going to fight against her, she had two extra tentacles to put
the common illithid in her place. Her fifth tentacle wrapped around all four of her tentacles,
completely restraining them. The last one wrapped around her neck loosely to let her know
who was boss. Vizaness didn’t even try to fight it, yet she didn’t withdraw from the tiefling’s
mind. She gasped at the ulitharid’s aggressive gesture. It still wasn’t enough to make the
Illithid withdraw from Natiri’s mind. The illithid let out a high pitched purr of pleasure.
Natiri moaned louder as Vizaness moved the sensation into Natiri’s mind. Vebeva’s tentacles
loosened ever so slightly. “Stubborn brat…” Vebeva gasped. She often found her gooey voice
to be completely undignified but in private company who were in a lower position than her,
she couldn’t care less. Vizaness was trembling under her, gripping onto Vebeva’s tentacles in
kind.

“You’re almost there…!” Vizaness encouraged Vebeva to hold on just a bit more.

Kalamash was trying to endure but hearing everyone feel so good only pushed him closer to
cumming. Natiri was enthusiastically begging for it. She knew her mistress wasn’t in a
position to stop her.

He knew he wasn't done with her. The half-orc grunted as he began filling her with orcish
cum. Natiri felt his hot semen shooting into her and he wasn’t stopping. “I’m gonna cum!!”
Natiri cried out. Vebeva mentally begged her to. In her attempt to try and hold on, she pinned
Vizaness down completely. The ulitharid towered over her in one last push to outlast her
opponent, but it was to no avail. She growled deeply and her tentacles released their grip on
Vizaness. She slowly brought herself besides Vizaness, sitting up next to her as she watched
the thralls. She finally found out what the fuss was about. It was certainly different than
Whim’s pleasure, but she neither preferred nor liked it any less. She would even be willing to
say the experience was lovely. She then looked down at Vizaness to see her continue to
tremble and moan. She wasn’t observing Natiri’s thoughts! She lost their little game!

“Wait just a damn minute! You tricked me!” Vebeva yelled at Vizaness. All Vizaness could do
was laugh. She let out gurgled laughter uncontrollably. She simply couldn’t help it. Her head
was too empty to do anything else! She overcame Vebeva’s bullying, and her thrall was busy
marking hers, completely unrestrained. Vizaness was euphoric. Vebeva wondered what the
hell was wrong with her and peered into her mind. Vizaness didn’t resist in the slightest. She
invited the ulitharid right in.

Vebeva found herself gripping the sheets of the bed. “Aaahgh..!” She started laughing too,
slamming her fist against the firm moss. “Oh, fuuuuck!” Vebeva hissed. She pulled away.
That was far too intense! “Alright, you show off.” The ulitharid sharply flicked her finger
against one of Vizaness’ tentacles.

“Ouch…!” Vizaness softly yelped. That snapped out of her pleased daze.

“I suppose I can’t call you a peon anymore. By all accounts, you’re more like a squire.”
Vebeva conceded reluctantly.
“Oh my, A promotion! How generous.” Vizaness giggled. Vebeva ignored the thralls. She had
her fill so she would just wait patiently for them to finish.

“You want to know what your biggest flaw is? You attach your value to others. Always
comparing yourself, always coveting approval. I’m starting to believe that your host had a
father complex.” Vebeva commented to her.

“Are you accusing me of partialism!?” Vizaness was thoroughly offended.

“Oh please. There’s no actual evidence to support the existence of an adversary. Partialism is
just some boogeyman used to scare young mind flayers. A paranoid hysteria that convinces
weak illithids that they’re broken. Grow up and get out of your stupid feelings.” She
dismissed Vizaness’ defensive question.

“You know, you have more in common with Dallimeze than you do with Zusrall.” Vebeva
couldn’t help but get one last jab at her.

“Now you’re just being rude to get under my skin!” Vizaness’ tentacles writhed in agitation
at her insult.

“My, my, jumping to all kinds of conclusions, aren’t we? I merely observed that you seemed
to enjoy knowing your place… Trust me, you’re not nearly so pathetic. On the contrary. Even
when you bent, you didn’t break. You won your little bet.” The ulitharid deflected her
accusation and complimented her.

“He couldn’t take my teasing. He let me step on his tentacle and it turned him on! Ugh! My
boots will NEVER be clean!” She revealed to Vizaness.

“No way! You’re yanking my tentacles!” Vizaness gasped.

“His thrall apparently does that to him all the time.”

“Why is he still here in this colony after that!?” The illithid asked.

“Simple really. His thrall is carrying Whim’s offspring. It would be detrimental to remove
Dallimeze. Also, his thrall is hilarious.” Vebeva answered. She conveniently omitted the fact
that the breeding came after the tentacle stepping. She truthfully didn’t hate him as much as
she initially did. When he was raw and honest about his feelings for Caramyn, she might
have had a twinge of respect for him. “You’re only going to get ahead by taking what you
want. I don’t want to see you turn into one of those sideliners that get by hanging onto
someone else. You’re better than that.”

Vizaness seemed to ponder her words carefully. “Thank you… That's very kind of you to
say.” She’d take the compliment.
Vebeva looked away from her, not wanting to hear the sappiness in her mind. “Natiri, you’re
such a mess. What am I going to do with you?” She sighed. Kalamash had done his best to
clean her up, but she was looking a bit disheveled. Her hair was a mess and had her mistress’
slime in it. “Go get a bath.” Natiri obeyed without any hesitation. “And don’t take eons to
get clean this time!”

Natiri was sure to make sure her bath was as brief as possible so her mistress could return
home. Upon their return, Whim greeted them at the door enthusiastically. “Welcome home,
Mistress!” He looked a bit sweaty but had a broad smile on his face. “Your delivery arrived!”
He has thoroughly cleaned the floor after the lizardmen had been in the domicile, which is
why he had worked up a sweat. It was a larger round table. Whim set up a centerpiece of
glowing fungi. One of the chairs was made specifically for someone with a tail. “I believe
this is your seat.” He pulled the chair out for Natiri.

Natiri looked up at her mistress, her jaw dropped and she pointed at herself silently as if to
say ‘For me??’. She felt a compulsion to hug her mistress but figured that might be
inappropriate, pushing the desire out of her mind.

“Come here…” Vebeva wrapped an arm around her, pulling the tiefling to her side. Natiri
blushed as she wrapped her arms around Vebeva. For the first time, she felt a sense of
belonging. Natiri’s dinner would be at the table from now on.
 Run Away Together
Chapter Summary

This chapter introduces a gnome ceremorph who meets Run Like The Wind.
The two vagabond runaways are hiding their true identities from the world! Strange
birds of a feather flock together.

Dess was a gnome ceremorph who had recently broken free from their elder brain. They had
been kidnapped and quite literally carried off by renegade duergar who had broken free
themselves. They had decided to take their revenge on the small ceremorph. The slaver had
become enslaved. As fate would have it, a blur of metal and a tall looking goblin pushed
through the camp their bullies had made. The chaos served as the perfect distraction for the
small ceremorph to slip away with what little belongings they could scavenge from the dead.
They had managed to hide from sight thus far but they were horribly lost.

Dess made it to the surface realms. They knew they should have turned back to find a way
back to Oryndoll but there was something fascinating about this place. Dess was an Ariser
Creed ceremorph. Long had they dreamed about learning lore from the surface directly. They
saw stars. They had never seen them before, yet they remembered them. It was beautiful. The
tall grasses of the plains tickled their skin and they had to levitate to avoid the itchy sensation
on their tentacles. They were entranced by their surroundings for over an hour before they
remembered that they still weren’t safe. They knew the surface world people hated and feared
beings like them.

They traveled northeast until they saw a farmhouse in the distance. There were clothes hung
up to dry in the cool night air. There was a dirt road. They were getting closer to a settlement.
They looked at the clothing left on the line. The owners of this home had a child that was just
their size. Their dark robes with the skull on the front would surely cause alarm in a human
mind! They knew stealing was generally considered unacceptable, but they had no choice in
the matter. They cautiously approached and levitated up to the clothesline, pulling down a
pair of trousers and a tunic. The farmer’s hat, which was propped against a post, could be
useful too. Maybe they could turn the cape of their cloak into a mask to hide their tentacles?
No. No one would buy that, would they? They moved away from the farmhouse door. They
pondered what to do. They were also hungry.
Dess couldn’t kill a farmer! Humanoid societies are delicate ecosystems! The loss of a farmer
could result in a loss of food for the community that would have an irreparable chain effect!
Dess’ understanding of surface society came from information gathered by other illithids.
Their creed was a minor faction in Oryndoll. It was small like them. There was perhaps a bit
of whimsical fascination in learning about surface world cultures. When Vebeva granted them
permission to interview Whim once, it was the greatest experience Dess had ever
experienced. They had probably only gotten so close to Vebeva in the first place because they
were able to use flattery to get in her good graces.

Dess pondered what they should do. Perhaps just a peek into a surface dwelling wouldn’t
hurt. “No… No, Dess. Don’t do that. That’s a bad idea. Terrible! What’s wrong with you?
That’s trespassing!” They scolded themselves mentally. Maybe they had some other edible
livestock on this farm. Certain animals of high enough intellect could sustain an illithid. Pigs,
Dogs, Bears and perhaps even monkeys could feed him. Even a crow was reasonably
intelligent enough to be a snack if they could catch it. They found a pig pen! They just had to
sneak in and mindblast one of them.

They glide towards the gate of the pen to see a big sow with 5 piglets. He couldn’t deprive
the young ones of their mother! “Curses!” They hissed softly at their bad luck!

That sound was all it took to attract the attention of a dog nearly twice their size! The massive
sheepdog growled menacingly. Dess at least thought it was a dog. The ceremorph thought
they had less fur. It looked more like an angry cloud as it lunged for them! In a panic the
illithid hit the animal with their mind blast. Unfortunately for Dress, the brave dog was
unphased. Dess let out a screech as he narrowly levitated away from the dog's maw. He had
to silence this creature. Dess wrapped their tentacles around the dog's snapping head and bit
down on its skull. It didn't make so much of a yipe as Dess, overcome by their hunger,
consumed its brain quickly.

It was no Ilduro Farm goblin, but it was enough. He learned from the simple creature that the
dog was pack bonded to the humans living in the farm. The young son of the couple living
here seemed to enjoy the dog's company. Its purpose was to protect the livestock. Dess saw a
torch light in the distance! The farmer was coming! “Cy!? What is it boy!?” The farmer was
whistling, calling for his dog. There was silence in response. Dess wasn’t sticking around and
fled before the farmer could find them. Once they thought they were far enough away, they
dived into some tall grass to prepare their disguise.

This grass sure was itchy! When he was changed, the gnome ceremorph’s tentacles were
covered by their old cloak, repurposed into a scarf. Underneath their scarf was their voice
box, which they managed to hide from their kidnappers. It was acquired in the hopes he
would one day talk to humanoids from the surface! The tunic was brown and covered his
arms nicely. A straw hat on their head would protect their eyes from the sun, and cover their
bald purple head. He moved back to the road, hoping their disguise was good enough and
began walking.

Dawn was breaking over the Shining Planes. The road was rough and wide. A caravan was
approaching from behind. It looked like the merchant caravans that came into Oryndoll but
instead of quaggoths it was pulled by big quadrupedal creatures with pretty manes! He
remembered these were horses! Oddly it looked like no one was driving. It was being pulled
by a living unseen servant. “Hello! Wait!” They chased after the caravan with their tiny little
legs. The caravan didn’t stop. “Waaait!” Dess cried out. They tripped and fell. “Oof….”

When they lifted their head, adjusting their scarf, a fully armored warrior in golden armor
was holding their hand out to them. The caravan was moving on without them. They couldn’t
see their face behind that elegant helmet that hid their facial features. “That was a nasty fall.
Need a hand?” They asked. Their voice was slightly metallic, like one speaking in a suit of
armor. Run Like The Wind offered to protect the caravan for passage to Assam. Their
magnificent metallic mustachioed face was interchangeable. To anyone looking at him now,
he was just a fully armored mercenary.

Dess looked up at the golden knightley figure with awe as they slowly reached for their hand
and allowed them to bring him to his feet. “Oh! You’re getting left behind!” Dess pointed
out.

“I can catch up.” The warrior assured Dess. They squat to allow the gnome sized figure to
climb onto his back. “If you don’t mind holding on, that is. Hop on!” Wind invited them.

“Haha… Alright then…?” They hesitate for only a moment, holding onto their hat with one
hand. Run Like The Wind starts off after the caravan “Woah!” He was surprised at the speed
at which this person could move! When they reached the caravan, a human woman slapped
Wind in the face with a broom.

“I told you to leave ‘em!” She yelled. The broom did little to phase the disguised construct
other than push his head back a bit. “I told you before not to bring strangers into my caravan!
Get out!” She scolded. A stranger traveling alone at this hour? It was suspicious!

“I’m sorry??” Dess was confused about why she was so hostile. “I’m just lost! You’re the
first people I’ve seen in days!” He tried to persuade the woman as they slid down from the
metal stranger who had picked them up.

“Why did you hire me to defend you if you don’t trust me to do that?” Wind pointed out.
“I’m not leaving someone by themselves on the road at this hour. That’s rude!” They
protested.

“Fine, but you’re responsible for keeping an eye on them. We’ll be pulling into Assam this
morning.” The cantankerous woman tells him.

Run Like the Wind sits at the back of the wagon with their legs hanging over the side and
Dess joins them. “So… What’s your name and how’d you end up out here?” Run Like The
Wind asked the pint sized stranger. The ceremorph’s big round brown eyes widened. What
was a humanoid sounding name?!

“Des…mond! Desmond! You can call me Dess as a nickname, though!” The ceremorph
replied. They nailed it! “I was captured by duergar!” It was technically the truth. Was a lie by
omission still a lie? “They were horrible to me but I managed to get away and now I’m here.
What’s your name?” ‘Desmond’ asked.

“Winnnnfred! Yes, it’s Winnfred.” Wind introduced themselves under a fake name.
“Mercenary for hire.”

“She said we were going to Assam? I know where we are now!” Dess nodded
enthusiastically.

“I actually don’t know anything about the town. I’ve never been there before.” Run Like The
Wind Admitted.

“Would you like me to recount my knowledge to you?” Dess offered.

“Sure.” Wind agreed. It could be useful to know about where they are going.

“Assam was founded in 715 DR by the cities of Lheshayl and Ormath. The city was founded
as a neutral ground, assuring peace between the two cities. It is a small city without walls, yet
despite the appearance of lacking defenses, it has endured to this very day! The Shining
Planes have a long, bloody history of centuries of conflicts. For three centuries, Assam and
its founding cities were locked in fierce battles with tribes of centaurs and thri-kreen. It was
once even attacked by drow in 1367 DR, which were successfully repelled by mercenaries
hired by a wealthy Ormath trader. Assam is a town of merchants and trade. One of the city’s
main exports is horses. Magnificent creatures, aren’t they?” Dess began to ramble.

Wind didn’t feel one way or the other about horses. He could move just as fast as a riding
horse. “I suppose they’re alright.” Wind looked down at what he assumed was a gnome.
Their round brown eyes were a bit larger than normal, but they were oddly pretty to Wind.
The ceremorph was sneaking quick peeks into the construct’s mind the entire time, reading
his surface thoughts. He couldn’t learn much this way, but poking around much deeper would
surely arouse suspicion. He figured out that this person was using a fake name for some
reason. They had one thing in common. They were both trying to get somewhere. The final
destination was unknown. Dess caught onto Wind’s thoughts about their eyes and looked
away shyly.

They had to do something about that or simply not make eye contact with people going
forward. “Sooooo, what brings you to Assam? Looking for work?” Dess asked.

“Yes. I’m looking into jobs that require travel.” Wind confirms.

“I see. I actually don’t know where to go right now, but traveling sounds worthwhile." Dess
admits. "Why are you traveling?"

"I…" Wind wondered how much he should reveal. "Bad breakup. I don't want my former
lover to find me." He admitted. Humanoid drama! What an interesting specimen!

"I'm sorry. Sometimes these relationship failures can put people in danger… Are they
dangerous to you?" Dess asked with concern.

"I don't think they would hurt me. I just don't want to deal with them anymore." Wind said.
They thought briefly of Keegan, feeling pure disgust.

It made Dess feel slightly nauseous from how deep that disgust for his ex lover went. "Ooh…
That seems rough…" Dess consoled them. He didn’t have much experience with love
himself. If Dess did have a lover when they were a gnome, they certainly didn’t remember.

“I guess you had it rough too after escaping from a situation like that.” Wind said. All Dess
had was a pick he was too weak to use. He planned to sell it for a little gold. The gray
dwarves forced him to dig for their own spiteful amusement. Dess was not strong enough to
effectively use it as a weapon. He had his voice box, the clothes on their back, and a bag to
carry things in.

“Yes, it was frightening. I thought I would die!” Dess admitted.

“Since we’re both aimless wanderers without much, would it interest you to stick together for
a bit? I can at least afford to buy you a room at a local inn.” Run Like the Wind offered. He
felt bad for the gnome. He didn’t want them stuck in the elements with no coin or shelter.
“A surface inn!? How exciting! I suppose this means we’re running away together.” Dess
was easily impressed. He then blushed realizing what he just said. He wondered how such
places differed from inns of the Underdark. He stayed out of The Skull Cup. He was
discouraged from going in there because it was wrong to “cavort with the untamed thralls”.

“Wow, your burrow must have been pretty deep underground!” Wind pondered.

“Yes… I’m from Turmish actually.” They were pretty sure that was their home country. He
could not tell if Winnfred was suspicious of them, and they felt their little heart race for a
moment.

“I was cre- born in Raven’s Bluff in Vesperin.” Wind caught their own little slip up. Their
surface thoughts were “Please don’t look at me like that!”

“I see! That’s a human country right? I don’t know much about it.” Dess tried to help this
individual feel at ease. The golden warrior was hiding secrets too, but it would be absolutely
rude to ask!

“Yes. It’s a place where very rich people rule. The Golden Lords are the people with the most
money and influence.” Wind explained. Dess never understood why shiny metal discs and
sparkly stones were so important to humanoid society. They traded these things for goods and
services endlessly. Dess wanted to try engaging in commerce to see what the fuss was about.

“I know people from my home who put a lot of value on money. It doesn’t make much sense
to me. Is it because people find gems and gold pretty? I guess you like pretty things because
you’re covered in it!” Dess pondered.

He had to hide what he was. To do so otherwise would be to lose his freedom. To do so

otherwise would be to be treated as a thing. After his experience in Oryndoll, he vowed never
again. This person was strange, but they didn’t seem unfriendly. They were excitable, affable
and pleasant to speak with. He knew he was just as strange. A couple of odd fellows going
who knows where. Dess similarly wanted to stick close to the only creature that had been
kind to him thus far. They just had to ensure they didn’t scare them off. How hard could it be
to pretend? Illithids were quite good at lying and Dess should be no exception.

A wheezing laugh like a tiny kettle comes out Wind. “Haha, you caught me…” They actually
did not care that much about money at all. It’s just what they had, but they did enjoy pretty
things. The hair of a noble woman, the gracefulness of a dancer, pristine furs and mirrors.
“What things do you find pretty?” He asked. The sky took on a golden hue. “That.” Dess
pointed at the sky. “I’m happy to see it again…”
 And Then They Found Relief
Chapter Summary

Geddask is worried about the future. They need some relief for their stress.

Madalyn and Geddask had been packing things up, ready to leave at a moment’s notice. What
would they do with the house? The furniture? They likely had no time to sell it! Madalyn was
hoping she could entrust the house to those adventurers. They wouldn’t think anything was
strange about Geddask’s bedding at least. They had a mental checklist of everything they had
put in their Bag of Holding, including many of their portable inventions. They’d picked up
everything and moved once before when they had left Oryndoll but to do it all over again
after getting so comfortable in Waterdeep left the illithid feeling stressed.

No matter how much they told themselves it would be alright and that Madalyn would be
with them, Geddask had a fear of the unknown. Their initial arrival in Waterdeep’s sewers
left them feeling constantly in peril. Geddask and Madalyn might soon find themselves in a
situation neither of them knew anything about. Packing things away only made this feeling
worse. Geddask needed some relief. The illithid picked up the scrap of cloth from their
sentiment drawer and stared at it. They needed Madalyn.

They floated upstairs to find her reading a book in her sitting room. The fireplace was lit,
casting an orange and warm glow through the darkened room. She sat nude upon an
oversized and plush chaise lounge. She was reading a book about Elminster’s journey to
Myth Drannor. A soft blanket of fleece was pulled over her legs.

Geddask blushed at the sight of her. The illithid stared at her for a good couple of minutes,
enchanted by her before making their presence known to her mentally. “You’ve been staring
at me for quite a while, Geddask.” She teased. A soft smile played on her lips. “What do you
require?” She asked. She knew they were there the entire time and never said anything. How
embarrassing!

“I seek your company. I desire comfort…” Their mental voice was a hushed tone, like a
shameful criminal seeking to purchase illegal contraband. Illithids postured themselves in
high esteem. Admissions of emotional hurt were a sign of weakness. Relying on someone
else was a difficult task for many illithids. Geddask was no exception even if they lacked the
xenophobic tendencies of their kin.
“What shall I do to comfort you? I understand if this transition has been difficult for you.”
She asked. There was no judgment in her mind against them. They felt pure understanding
from her.

“I want to obscure these feelings for a while… I’d like to dampen them with endorphins.
Would you be willing to get your pipe of smoke monsters? I want to lose myself in you for a
couple of hours.” Geddask elaborated.

“That’s such a long winded way to ask for sex.” She giggled softly. Before they could retreat
into a shell of shame, she accepted. “I’ll go get my pipe. Come. Sit and get comfortable. I’ll
take care of you.” She patted the chaise and put her book away. Geddask pulled off their shirt
and joined her on the chaise. She takes her blanket, draping it over her lover. It felt like a soft
hug.

“I fully agree that you need some thorough stress relief. Wait here. I’ll be back to put that
mind of yours at ease.” She traced a single finger along a tentacle. Her fingernails were black
with Calishite henna. She elegantly lifted her hand and softly booped where their nose would
have been. The naked wizard headed up to her room to gather her things. Her pipe, her
cannabis, and her jasmine oil. She chills a cup of clean water with prestidigitation for
hydration.

She returned to Geddask’s side downstairs, having packed her pipe with her recreational
herbs. “Alright. Here we go.” She lights the pipe with prestidigitation, inhaling deeply.
Geddask genuinely wondered how she was able to inhale the smoke without choking on it.

“How can you inhale this? Doesn’t it burn your lungs?” Geddask asked.

“I suppose I grew used to it.” She replied mentally to them.

“A merchant back in Oryndoll once told me that you never truly know a road until you walk
it twice. I suppose I could give it one more chance.” Geddask mused. Madalyn exhaled the
smoke into the shape of a snickering goblin.

“By all means, go ahead.” She smiled mischievously. She wasn’t going to try and stop them.
She handed the pipe to them, lighting it. Geddask inhaled. Smoke flowed from their gills and
mouth before they began sputtering and coughing harshly. There was no improvement from
last time at all! Madalyn gave them some water.

“Why did you let me do that again??” They gurgled. She pressed her forehead against
Geddask’s.
“You are free. You are your own individual. I’ll never take your ability to choose away from
you.” She whispered into his mind.

“If I wanted to stay, would you be disappointed in me?” Geddask proposed a hypothetical
question. Madalyn took another drag of her pipe, forming the smoke into a flumph.

“No. My idealized version of you, is one that deserves understanding, tolerance and…
Love.” She replied. Lately, speaking with them in this manner has become easier than ever.

“I think much the same of you, Madalyn.” Geddask felt the herbs starting to take hold of
Madalyn’s mind. He could at least enjoy the experience vicariously. Madalyn inhaled once
more, once again making the shape of the illithid, embracing her in smoking tendrils.

Madalyn slid herself behind Geddask and took the bottle of jasmine oil into her hand. “I think
a massage might help release your tension further. Let me help you relax.” She whispers.
They blushed at the thought of that. Geddask never had such an experience. They were never
good enough in their colony to have the priviledge, but they once wondered what it was like
to have their own drow masseuse. Those fantasies were long extinguished but Madalyn lit
that spark in their memories. Geddask was worthy to her.

“Do what you must. I trust you.” Geddask allowed her to rub her warm scented hands against
the back of their head. Her fingertips were gentle. Her palms pressed against the illithid’s
head in small circles.

Her efforts were rewarded with a pleasant sensation tingling in her scalp. It felt like they were
massaging her brain in return for her kindness. “Does that feel good?” The wizard asked.
She knew that it did. She just wanted to hear them say it. Geddask purred. Their anxiety was
being stripped away by her touch.

“Exquisite…” Geddask confirmed. Madalyn’s hands moved lower and she felt the warmth of
her hands upon her own back.

“You have a bit of soreness in your left shoulder.” She felt their pain as if it were her own and
focused on massaging that spot, kneading the tenderness away.

“I didn’t know you were a cleric. Your touch is divine, Madalyn.” Geddask joked. Madalyn
softly chuckled at his pun.

“Did you want to stay in Waterdeep?” She asked them mentally.

“The only place I want to be is by your side. Wherever that is.” Geddask responded. They
turned to face their wizard lover. The illithid’s tentacles trail over her skin. Coiling and
grasping over every inch of her. They felt her arousal build with every touch. The teasing
manner in which they rubbed at her thighs left her soaked. They held her left hand with their
right, intertwining their fingers. A tentacle boldly wrapped around her wrist and pulled her
right hand to her moist sex. Geddask wanted her to pleasure herself for them. In sync with the
illithid, she happily indulged them. Her deft fingers began to work at her moist folds.

She closed her eyes, taking in Geddask’s scent. She sighed softly, relaxing completely in their
slimy embrace. There were no thoughts in Geddask’s mind except for Madalyn. She was the
perfect distraction. The very same tentacle entered her. They grew ever closer. Their minds
were starting to overlap. “Oh… Oh, love… Geddask.” She moaned. Geddask’s breathing
grew heavier as they rubbed a tentacle against her lips. She kissed and licked it eagerly. The
taste of illithid was quite pleasant to her. It was beginning to rain outside, and the pitter patter
against the window, combined with the crackling fireplace further added to the relaxed static
of their high minds.

No more pain. No more stress. Love was one thing they could be certain of. She was in
Geddask’s mind, a replacement for everything they’d ever had in Oryndoll and more. Their
connection was far sturdier than a resonance stone. More dynamic than the relationship
between master and thrall. Deeper than the lowest cavern in Oryndoll. Their minds pressed
together. Like non-newtonian fluids, they began to meld as the pressure they exerted
loosened. Two minds sharing one goal, one desire, one love.

Their movements became automatic. Madalyn’s lust filled and foggy state was no detriment
to Geddask. They’d become lost in her as they desired. No words. No perception of the
physical world around them. They felt pleasure rushing towards them. Madalyn cried out
loudly for several seconds as Geddask gurgled pleasurably. Relief at last.

Madalyn pulled them close, letting Geddask rest their head on her chest. She pulled the
blanket up over them, letting them feel its softness. Geddask hugged Madalyn with their arms
and tentacles. “I think that’s exactly what I needed. Thank you.” Geddask sighed dreamily.
They could take a nap right here.

“You’re welcome. You worry so much. Always worried about saying the wrong thing, or
doing the wrong thing. Even if there’s no where on Toril you belong, it’s statistically
impossible that there’s no place in the multiverse for us. I’ll continue honing my
manipulation of the weave and carve such a place out for you if I must. You deserve it.” She
kissed their forehead.

“I do?” They asked.

“I won’t let anyone tell you that you don’t. Not even yourself.” She affirmed.
Geddask thought about what Madalyn said. It made them feel emotionally warm and
comforted. They slowly sat up. “Do you want me to get you some chicken soup? I added less
salt this time.” Geddask offered. They sensed the high wizard’s desire for food.

“That would be nice.” Madalyn sits up, waiting for them to return to her from the kitchen
with a full bowl of soup and a wooden spoon. They hand it to her in their tentacle. She takes
it and eagerly begins to eat. “It’s just right.” She smiled.

Geddask was proud that their recipe had improved. They were completely comfortable and
relaxed. Their mind felt like a new and clean slate. Madalyn’s attention was pulled to a knock
at the door. Geddask takes the bowl from her, allowing her to throw on a robe to answer the
door. The illithid promptly hid out of sight. Madalyn cracked open the door to see who it was.
It was Zinnia. “Greetings. Have you gathered the information?” Madalyn asked.

“Yep! Jash is actually the one who figured it out, believe it or not! It’s a ship called The
Dwarven Lady, but they’re leaving. They’re expecting you but, if you want to board you
better do it soon!” Zinnia revealed. “And when I say soon, I mean you only have until dusk to
decide.” She emphasized.

“I see… Come in.” Madalyn invited the rogue in and shut the door behind her. “You heard
that, Geddask?”

“I did…” They confirmed. They peeked around the wall, looking at Zinnia nervously.

Madalyn grabs Geddask’s hands, reassuringly squeezing them. “You don’t have to do this
alone.” She assured them. “We can figure this out together.”

“I’ll get my disguise on. The essentials are already packed.” Geddask rushed to grab
everything. Madalyn snorted at their eagerness.

“So… What are you doing with your property?” Zinnia pondered.

“If your party needed a base of operations… I was hoping you would take over. Provided you
don’t destroy it, of course! I will eventually come back to check!” Madalyn offered to
Zinnia.

“I think that would be agreeable. It would be nice to have some peace and quiet.” Zinnia had
been staying in The Yawning Portal up until now. “Don’t worry. I won’t use your house for
anything shady or wild orgies.” Zinnia joked, giggling at her own humor. Madalyn called to
Geddask downstairs. Arendil, on the other hand might end up doing the latter…
“I’m showing Zinnia around! So you don’t have to rush!” Madalyn yelled down to them. “So
the basement is where Geddask was staying. Make sure you water the moss once a week and
nourish it with the drift globe daily for 8 hours. You can take off the panels on the windows if
you desire. They were installed for Geddask’s comfort and privacy. The garden needs
watered once every two weeks. I have a decanter of endless water for that purpose. Do not
steal or sell it. ” She began giving Zinnia the terms of her staying.

“I’m a thief, not a looter! I won’t take everything not nailed to the floor…” The rogue
laughed. “I promise you won’t come back to an empty and gutted home.” She assured
Madalyn. She whistled at the comfortable looking sitting room.

Madalyn seemed satisfied even if Zinnia’s statement was a bit contradictory. “We have a full
bathing room. You’ll have to buy your own soap. Geddask packed it all away. The kitchen
comes with a cauldron. Upstairs are two bedrooms, a privy and a study. There’s a small spare
room you can shove Jash into.” She finished her tour. Zinnia snickered at Madalyn’s
comment about the spare room. The rogue could see from her decorative choices that the
wizard cared quite a bit about Geddask.

“Help yourself to some soup.” Madalyn offered.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Zinnia accepted. Madalyn brought her bowl of soup to the dining room.
She was going to finish her dinner at least before she left Black Dog Alley. Zinnia served her
own bowl and joined Madalyn in the dining room.

“This is pretty good!” Zinnia complimented.

“Thank you… I made it.” Geddask mentioned as they returned upstairs.

“Illithids know how to cook too?” Zinnia was surprised.

“No. I just followed the recipe.” Geddask denied having their own talent in culinary arts.
“Following directions is not difficult for most people.”

“Give yourself a little more credit than that, Geddask.” Madalyn smiled. Zinnia thought this
strange and sappy couple was straight out of one of Arendil’s books. “It looks like you’ve
made up your mind.” Madalyn pointed out.

“I have… I might not know what is going to happen, or where we’re going, but you were
there from the start when I came to this city.” Geddask tells her. She gave them new found
confidence. She relieved them of their fear.
 Alive!
Chapter Summary

Ellimol becomes a dad and does a better job than Victor Frankenstein.

If Ellimol couldn’t have his perfect construct, he resolved that he would become his perfect
construct. The illithid had a side project he had been working on for years. The Encephilithid
had put his work in low priority. When Ellimol ranted about how “Vee could take over zee
vorld wiz an army of subservient steel soldiers!”, it was admittedly intrigued. It, however,
learned that Ellimol wanted to test this strange experiment on himself.

Ellimol would be using psionic circuitry to transfer his consciousness into a body of metal.
The Encephalithid foresaw all kinds of ways such an experiment could go wrong. It could
simply not work. Ellimol could die. The damn things could go rogue and destroy them! After
all, there would be sapient beings inside and they would be made further durable shells made
of duergar made steel.

The one thing that was good about his contract with that towering thrall obsessed bitch being
over is that he finally got to work on this project again! He eagerly and carefully removed it
from storage. Since it had been gathering dust, he gave this metallic construct a good
cleaning by hand. It had the face of an illithid. Its skin was steel, polished to perfection. The
eyes were round crystal orbs, lovingly crafted himself. It had four slots to place psychic
reservoirs in its chest. It had two filled. Ellimol wiped their rag over a tentacle. This face was
beautiful. The tentacles were fully functional and even had tinkering tools and drills built in!
It was both utilitarian and useful for torturing poor humanoids.

It was taller than Ellimol and sleek. The torso sported two sets of arms. Ellimol had always
been envious of the six tentacles that ulitharids had, but none of them had four arms! It was
capable of dispensing experimental gas, created by Vebeva as a riot control weapon. It could
grapple and stab at the same time. He felt himself growing giddy and excited as he washed
the dust from the metal muscular frame.

Egar was scurrying about, getting tools at his master's command. The nothic did not like their
master very much, but they certainly wanted no harm to come to Ellimol. What if this
experiment killed their master? What would become of them? Ellimol was surprisingly not
offended by Egar's worries. They did sometimes bring up important considerations.

Ellimol had been developing the psionic circuitry for this experiment for 6 years. He was
using cranium rats for the initial tests. At first the rats would simply die with nothing to show
for his tiny clockwork rat. When he'd perfected the transfer 2 or 3 years in, the physical
bodies died after one week in the metal bodies and the metal body's consciousness died soon
after that. He concluded that the union of flesh and metal could not be permanent. He spent
the remaining 3 years figuring out how to reverse the transfer.

His final tiny test subject had gone insane. Something about a hoard being incomplete
without them. The cranium rat kept demanding to return to its hoard "inside the metal". This
rat only left the metal body to eat and nourish its physical form. Ellimol concluded that
perhaps using dozens of cranium rats left fragments of consciousness behind but they weren't
strong enough to move the body on their own. The test subjects were to be terminated last
year. Ellimol couldn't bear to destroy their own work, so Egar was instructed to release the
metal rat into the ring caverns above. He figured it would die naturally.

It was apparently doing well for an entire year thus far. Through his secret research, he
figured out how to keep the construct alive and functioning. One full psychic reservoir per
month was all it needed. The metal rat secretly appeared from time to time for repairs to its
body. Ellimol happily obliged every time. It was his pet project. He even gave it a name. The
Mini Encephalithid, due to its collective consciousness of being several cranium rats in one.
Ellimol was sure that the real Encephalithid might be offended by such a comparison but it
was truly a term of endearment to Ellimol.

Ellimol finished cleaning the metal construct thoroughly. He never experimented with putting
a consciousness inside of it before. Keegan had volunteered but the nimblewright had gone
ballistic at the offer. Besides, this body wasn't for some humanoid to put their grubby oily
fingers all over. It was for Ellimol. It was made for him. He was going to place his own
consciousness within. He finally finished implanting the psionic circuitry.

"Mein creation is complete! Today is zee day, Egar. Vee vill be making history!" Ellimol
clenched his fist victoriously. A device with copper pipes had two helmets. One on each end
connecting to the other. The insides of the helmets were coated with his own psionically
active mucus. The inactive construct was placed in one end. He made sure the contact points
were secure.
Egar was nervously pacing as their master was securing his head into the other helmet.
"Egar! Pull zee lever!" Ellimol commanded his aberrant servant. Egar thought this was
insane but followed through, approaching the device, he firmly pulled the lever down. A
bright flash and loud buzzing emitted from the strange device. Egar jumped back, averting
his eye and covering his ears.

When he was brave enough to turn around, Egar caught sight of the metal aberration staring
at their four metal hands. "It verked… Ohoho! I am perfection! I'm a genius!!" Ellimol was in
his own creation, piloting it with his own mind! His movements were slightly stiffer than his
own body but they remained as precise. He stood, attempting to levitate out of habit. He was
only able to get a couple inches off of the ground.

"Ooh, zis body is a bit heavier zan I'm used to…" Ellimol noted.

"It does weigh 500lbs., Master." Egar pointed out.

"Get zee mirror!" He had to see what he looked like through his eyes. He perfectly replicated
the visual senses of an illithid. Egar rolled the body length mirror out of the storage room and
into the main room. Ellimol turned to look at himself.

The mirror remained in storage because he hated to look at himself. He truthfully found
himself ugly. He didn't have Addanil's deep mauve color, or Vebeva's elegance. He was
constantly envious of other illithids for possessing qualities he lacked. When he saw his
metallic form in the mirror, he felt beautiful. He felt perfect. He was safe from filth and pain
and harm. Ellimol moved closer, touching his reflection.

His metal fingertips tapped the reflective surface. His sensation of touch significantly muted
but he was aware that he was touching the mirror. His tentacles could serve as a sort of
collision detection apparatus in a crowd when they were fully extended. His palm touched
that of his reflection's. He was entranced by his creation. He felt for the first time, true
appreciation and self love. Despite his artificial body, he felt alive. He admired his new form
for seven whole minutes. "Master? Are you well?" Egar finally asked.

"Wunderbar, mein one-eyed assistant!" If he had lips to smile with, he'd have the biggest grin.
"Now zen… Vee have tests to conduct!" Ellimol would test how his construct eyes handle
light. His dexterity and strength would be tested too. He found from his initial testing that he
would theoretically be able to carry, lift, push and pull nearly twice his biological body's
carrying capacity and he was pleased that his predictions were correct. Those weights
certainly weren't easy for the thralls to carry to his lab! He was able to pick them up with
ease. Just one of these constructs could do the work of multiple thralls. Ellimol could give
those body tamers a run for their mindgates. No gith could call him frail like this.

His dexterity tests, consisting of catching objects tossed by his thrall, were a surprise. His
dexterity had been slightly hampered by his metal limbs. It was less of a detriment than
Ellimol predicted it would be. He had fully expected his range of motion to decrease more
than what it had. After marking his initial results, he reluctantly had Egar return him to his
body. He then felt a sense of curiosity. It came from inside the construct. Ellimol tried his
best to act normal. He couldn't ignore it.

"Zere is someone else in zere." Ellimol said.

Egar's single eye widened. "Master, this is strange. I don't know if we should continue…"
They muttered.

"Who are you? Who am I?" The voice was neither masculine or feminine. The pitch was
neither high nor deep. It was purely telepathic.

"It's not old… Zis being is new if zat makes sense. Mein God Brain… I may have just created
an artificial sentience!" Ellimol grew ever excited. It was a consciousness. They asked
questions. They had sentience. It was like that golden construct. It was better than the
nimblewright. It was his own creation. He loved them.

"My dear construct, My name is Ellimol. I created you. I suppose you need a name too. I
can't keep calling you 'construct.'" Ellimol reasoned that this was his. They were an extension
of him. It would be wrong to treat them as lower than a thrall.

"Why?" The new presence asked.

"Names have power! To keep calling you an object would remove zat power." Ellimol
explained.

"What is my name?" They asked. They sure asked a lot of questions!

"What about Curiosity? Do you like it?" Ellimol thought the name fit.

"Can you call me Curio? The one-eyed creature seems to think I am rare and unusual." Curio
it was. Ellimol nodded in agreement. "Why can't I move?" Curio asked.
"I don't know yet. I vas able to move your limbs just fine." Ellimol wondered if Curio simply
wasn't powerful enough like the fragments of the cranium rats' collective consciousness. He
moved closer to inspect them . "Zee one-eyed creature is named Egar. Zey are my assistant."
Ellimol explained. They gently lifted one of the metallic tentacles with their hand. The
tentacle wrapped around his hand. They felt an overwhelming pang of joy.

"Oh, Curio! You grabbed my hand! I'm so proud! You can do zis." He wrapped his tentacles
around their arms to try and get Curio to move. "One foot in front of zee other." Ellimol
encouraged. Curio had to do it for themselves. They were too heavy for Ellimol and Egar to
move with their combined efforts. They lurched forward, with a cautious step. Then another
and another until they were in the center of the room.

"Yes… Yes! Zey're aliiiive!!" Ellimol cackled madly. Egar just stared. This was weird…

"What is my purpose? Why was I made?" Curio asked.

"A good question. Originally, you vere designed to remove zee veakness of zee flesh as a new
body. I did not expect you to become a fully sapient being, but it vas a happy accident."
Ellimol was honest. He wasn't at all upset that the construct was a being with their own
thoughts.

"Since I created you, I guess zat makes me your father." Ellimol pondered.

"I am your child? Am I a son, a daughter or something else?” It seemed this new lifeform
had fragments of Ellimol’s collective knowledge.

“Zat is not for me to decide. Gender is a social construct. You have to decide vat it is for
yourself.” Ellimol answered. Curio was silent for several seconds.

“I don’t know what I want to be yet.” Curio answered.

“Zat is fine, my child. No one is born knowing everyzing. Not even me. You vill learn
knowledge over time, Curio. Just like learning to valk!” Ellimol encouraged.

“You’re certainly accepting parenthood so readily, Master, but others may not be so
loving…” Egar mused. Being in the construct body was an amazing experience, but
transferring himself into Curio’s body again may cause harm to both of their minds. He
couldn’t risk it with a mind so new to existing.
“We have verk to do in order to convince zem. I can prove Curio is useful to our colony. I just
need more time. Their knowledge needs to be refined. Zey need to know more before zey are
ready to interact viz zee vorld outside of our domicile.” Ellimol was determined to be a
supportive influence and mold them into a model citizen of Oryndoll. “I must collect all
available information on parenting.”

Egar only knew about the basic care of humanoid children. A big metallic illithid was far
removed from his knowledge. “We have our work cut out for us, Master.” Egar wondered
what shenanigans his master would get up to next.
 Investing In Sanctuary
Chapter Summary

You and Addanil go shopping and have philosophical discussions about feelings.

Chapter Notes

https://youtu.be/brRIZ-skZSs
A video of the lute piece the bard has played.

The skies were clear and blue, contrasted against yellow and orange Autumn leaves as you
held Addanil’s hand to head out to the shops. The most important investment would be the
wagon and the horses. “This wagon costs 35… The two draft horses to pull us will cost
100… That would only leave us with 25 gold pieces and 6 silver pieces once I trade in these
gemstones for it. That’s barely enough, isn’t it?” Addanil lamented. That probably didn’t
even cover a trip to the many goods trader. What about food? What if there’s no treasure?
How would you two survive? You went ahead and paid for the horses. You squeezed
Addanil’s hand. “I have an idea.”

“Excuse me Mr. Trauneth, we’re in dire straits and we’re making an expedition to the
dungeons under Selpt. Would it be possible for you to let us simply borrow the wagon and
repay you in full once our expedition to the ruins has turned up the treasure we seek?” You
pleaded with the owner of this wagon maker.

“Sorry. No can do. If you don’t come back, I’m out of a wagon! The horses we sell here come
from the local farmer so I only make a commission for selling them.” Trauneth told you.
Addanil made his face look stern.

“Really? You’re going to make my partner cry after the terrifying ordeal we suffered? I know
you heard our tale at The Bucket and Basilisk this morning!” Addanil chided.

Right on cue, your face begins to scrunch and you sniffle. “Oh, Ames… It’s all my fault,
Ames! If you hadn’t thrown your bag at the elves to save me…” Genuine tears started to well
up in your eyes. “None of this would have happened! I’m so sorry!” You sniffled louder and
covered your face, beginning to sob. Addanil knew you could cry on cue. He was glad you
still remembered how. He immediately moved to “comfort” you, wrapping his arms around
you..

“There, there. It’s not your fault, love.” He pressed your sobbing face against his chest and
glared at Trauneth. “Look what you’ve done! Are you proud of yourself? You’ve stained their
beautiful face with tears!” Addanil scolded the wagon maker harshly.

“Oh… Oh, gee. Listen, I can accept a down payment of 10 gold pieces, and then you can pay
me the rest upon your return. That’s the best I can do.” Trauneth offered.

You sniffled and wiped away your tears. “That sounds fair, sir. Can we agree to that?” You
pouted at Addanil.

“Yes, that does indeed sound fair.” Addanil agreed. “It’s going to be alright. We’ll get back
on our feet. We always have, right?” He looked at you lovingly to further sell the
performance, but he genuinely meant every word.

“That’s right…” You started to smile at him. Trading in your gemstones for the wagon and
horses, and putting them in a stable and adding one day of feed…

“We’re left with 49 gold.” You scratch it down in your accounting parchment. “So next is the
blacksmith, yes?”

“I’ve heard Maurdren’s prices are low, so it will hopefully be a less stressful endeavor.”
Addanil remarks.

“Ah, but have you not heard the phrase you get what you pay for, Ames?” You pointed out.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong with a good deal?” He asked.

“Well there’s likely a reason their wares are cheap… We’ll have to see what we’re working
with when we get there.” You pointed out. No one had ever cheated Addanil before. They
were too afraid to, but these people assumed he’s just a human. He was no terrifying monster
who could eat one’s brain for dealing in bad faith.

Maurdren Brunhelm was a half-dwarf who ran the forge out of his own home. His wares
were sold out of an old barn. There was mostly farm equipment, tools and horse shoes for
sale. Addanil and you looked at the weapons upon the wall. They had three short swords that
were of crude quality. “Don’t you have anything... Better?” Addanil asked. You deserved an
elegant rapier! You should be piercing your enemies with a fine pointed blade!
“Ames! Just because it’s not high coin work, you don’t have to say it like that! You’re being
rude!” You scolded him. Addanil was flabbergasted by your scolding.

“Well excuse me for wanting you to defend yourself with something serviceable!” Addanil
argued with you.

“I’m sorry! He just really cares. Please don’t take it personally.” You gave the blacksmith a
nervous smile. Addanil’s comment didn’t put a damper on Maurdren’s enthusiasm at all.

“It’s alright! I understand my stuff might not be for travelers like yourself. I set up just last
year here and I’m practicing to become a better smith all by myself! I learned the basics back
in my clan.” The man’s jovial mood wasn’t at all damaged. He never could please his father,
yet it didn’t stop him.

“I’m sure you’ll only get better with practice! Don’t give up!” You encouraged the
blacksmith.

“Well we don’t have time to wait for them to improve so one of these blades will have to
do…” Addanil lamented. You squeezed his hand.

“Gods above, I swear I’ll leave this shop if you don’t behave, and then I’ll be stabbing gods
only knows what with a dagger!” You threatened mentally.

“Don’t you dare act so petulant about your safety!” Addanil responded. “Just pick one and
let’s go.” Addanil audibly sighed.

“This one looks cute.” It was a rough iron sword with a wooden handle, a basic square
pommel and the handguard was twisted up into two whimsical curls.

“Thank you! That one is my newest one. It’s more experimental than my other forays in
weapon making.” Maurdren commented. You tested the weight in your hand.

“You know the balance on this blade actually isn’t bad.” You complimented. It would do for
now. Addanil would have haggled the price down even further, but he thought it might agitate
you further. He paid the blacksmith in full, bringing your total gold down to 43. You asked
for directions to Yuncharr’s Usefuls. This little hamlet really was closely knit together as you
once again didn’t have to go far to find it. You held Addanil’s hand as you left, squeezing
softly. “You shouldn’t insult people like that. It can hurt their feelings!” You told him.

“Why should I care about the feelings of those beneath us?” Addanil asked. “I think your
recent attitude is hurting my feelings!” He tried to play your words against you.
“Think about it this way. The wagonmaker wouldn’t have given us that deal if he didn’t care
about our feelings.” You start to explain.

“It was a clever manipulation on our part, but you’re losing me.” Addanil admits.

“One reaps what they sow. You’re in a different world up here. People remember how you
treated them. One of these days we might end up in a situation where we can’t manipulate, lie
or fight our way out of it! In the surface world, how you treat someone can influence their
willingness to aid you. I’m trying to set you up for success!” You explained.

“Elaborate further.” He gathered that you meant no harm to him but he still didn’t quite get
it.

“ You just can’t be mean to others. They might take it out on you. Need I remind you it took
Ilsensine itself to stop your city’s duergar uprising thousands of years ago?” You recalled.

“How did you learn of that?” Addanil was shocked by your knowledge of his people’s
history.

“It came to me in a dream.” You lied to mess with him. “I’m kidding. Just because you don’t
write down your history, it doesn’t mean that other people didn’t.” You smirked and tapped
your head, showing you remembered what you read once.

“You tell me to care for others yet I must hide behind an illusory mask and you still lie to
cover for me. These people do not sound as though they care about my feelings.” He
attempted to pick apart your moral philosophies.

“I know you’re capable of love, empathy and complexities beyond what others understand.
Your people however, have a very negative reputation. People form opinions based on what
they know and learn. They can be slow to change these perceptions. They may do cruel things
because of them. There are indeed people who will hate you no matter what. It isn’t fair that
they can afford to be careless and you can’t, is it?” You felt your words strike a chord with
him.

“When we pick our allies, we should treat them the way we wish to be treated. I hope the way
you want to be treated is with understanding, patience and love. There are people who would
see reason to care about you too. I can’t be the only one in this prime material who does.
That’s improbable.” You look up at a building’s sign that reads “Yuncharr’s Usefuls”. This
was the place! Addanil allowed you to bring him inside, as he was processing what you told
him. He’d never heard anything so deep from a humanoid mind before. He definitely needed
time to ponder on it.
You found yourselves in a labyrinth of new and used goods all crammed together. It was
almost impossible to figure out what to find! Delvar Yuncharr, a stout fellow, greeted you.
“Welcome to Yuncharr’s Usefuls! Lookin’ for anything in particular or just lookin’?” He
asked.

“Hmm… Well if you have a complete dungeoneer’s pack that would be immensely useful. If
not, we’ll settle for some rope.” You requested.

“No dungeoneer’s packs, but we got plenty of rope! All kinds of ropes! Silk rope, hemp rope,
even rope from Maztican cotton!” Delvar was pulling ropes from various racks.

“Uh… Just hemp is fine.” You tell him, not wanting him to trouble himself. You wondered
how this stuff hadn’t toppled on top of him and buried him alive!

“You’re looking for dungeoneering stuff, right? You’re probably planning to head down into
those caverns at the ruined castles, huh? You know no one’s found that treasure yet as far as I
know. They say that there was a plot within the household staff of the High Dukes to
assassinate them and they fled with everything they own down into the depths of their castle!
Can’t imagine they made it somewhere else considering those tunnels supposedly lead to the
Underdark…” He started yammering on and you politely nodded your head with the
occasional ‘mhm’ and comment.

Addanil wandered off while he was talking and managed to find a crowbar and a backpack.
He then saw in the corner a painter’s easel, a few canvases and some paints stowed away in
the corner. Addanil disregarded Delvar and tugged on your arm and led you through the
labyrinth of goods. You felt strange seeing it. To paint again after it had led you so deep into a
trap… “Don’t we have more important things to buy?” You asked Addanil.

“I merely wanted to see if you still liked to paint.” Addanil said.

“Perhaps if we return successfully from our trip, I could try again.” You were willing to try
again for him.

“I don’t-” His mental message to you is cut off by Delvar.

“Those painting supplies are brand new! I guess the person who sold it at a loss to me tried
something new and it didn’t work out for ‘em. Someone’s trash is someone else’s treasure,
right?” Delvar commented on that merchandise.

“Could you please stop talking? I would prefer to shop in silence.” Addanil bluntly
requested.

“My apologies, sir, I’ll wait at the front. Just yell if you need anything.” He shuffled
awkwardly away from you.
“Well, at least you said please…” You thought.

“I don’t want you to paint because you think it’s what I want. I have never told you what or
when to paint. I have no reason to start now.” Addanil tells you. “Your art is spontaneous.
It’s natural to you. It can never be forced.” He said.

“Well… We don’t have any room in the wagon for it right now, but if it’s still here, then yes.
I’ll try it again.” You tell him. Your eyes caught sight of something else among everything.
An instrument! You slowly pull a dusty lute from a shelf and wipe the dust away by hand.
You remembered this too. It was like something out of your childhood! Your grandfather’s
lute, lovingly restored for you when no one else wanted it. Despite the dust this one has
gathered, it looked to be in good condition. You blow hard to clear away more dust, sending
it flying into the air. Addanil let out an ugly sounding cough.

“Can you not do that? It’s agitating my gills!” Addanil warned.

“Sorry!” You whispered an apology. You peak around the corner of a crammed display.
“Delvar, can I try this lute out? I promise I know how to play it, so I won’t hurt your ears
with its sound.” You asked the shopkeep.

“Oh, but won’t that disturb your partner’s silence?” Delvar was obviously a little hurt by
Addanil.

“I’m sorry about him. We had a stressful ordeal before coming here. We lost much of what
we owned when we were robbed by elves in the Junderwood. He’s just cranky and tired.”
You apologized for Addanil’s behavior.

“Cranky!? Who are you calling cranky?” Addanil protested mentally.

“By all means, go ahead!” Delvar gave you permission to play with the merchandise. You
made sure the strings were properly tuned and you plucked them into a pleasant galliard. A
lively dance in triple time for two people, including complicated turns and steps.

Addanil realized he has never danced before. The concept was wholly alien to him, yet he felt
curiosity and was absorbed into the melody you played. It was different from the flute Yorix
made for you. It was lively and jovial. It was light. Just like you. “How much is this?” You
asked Delvar.

“30 gold pieces.” The shopkeeper tells you.

“What!? That’s nearly all our remaining gold when combined with everything else! It’s nice
but not ‘30 gold’ nice!” Addanil expressed a desire for you to put it back. You held the lute
tight to your chest and looked at him with those big sad eyes.
“Pleaaase? Pretty please? What if my flute breaks or gets lost? You can’t expect a bard to be
without a backup focus, can you? And it sounds so pretty! I really really want it!” You
begged and pleaded, making sure to pout. Addanil couldn’t resist that face.

“Fine! Fine, you win, but this brings us down to only 7 gold pieces, so don’t ask for anything
else!” He relented.

“Thank you! You’re the best! Maybe I can make that money back by playing in taverns.” You
smiled brightly. You paid for your things, but as Delvar inspected your lute he decided to
offer a slight discount for a slight scuff. He knocked 10 gold off of the price of the lute,
bringing your total gold to 17 pieces. You knew there was barely anything wrong with it, but
Addanil wasn’t complaining about spending less money.

Addanil couldn’t help but stare at your smiling face in the bright light of the Autumn sun.
“Can we go back to our room for a bit? I have a headache. Maybe I need more sleep.”
Addanil admitted. You looked at him.

“Are you alright?” You asked.

“I’ll be fine. I just need to decompress. This situation is a lot to take in.” He assured you. You
got your horses and your wagon situated at the hamlet’s small stable and returned to
Tattercloaks.

“I see you went shopping!” Malorie noticed your new lute. “Maybe you could play at The
Bucket And Basilisk later this evening!” She suggested.

“That’s a great idea! I’ll definitely consider it.” You tell the friendly innkeeper. You go
upstairs with Addanil and lock the door. Once safely inside, Addanil took off his cloak and
his hat, settling onto the bed.

“You and I have so many differences… It is difficult for me to speak with the surface people.
They’re often… Annoying. I could conquer these simple villagers and take what I want yet
you insist I must trade fairly with them.” He said.

“It is the only way I can think to maintain discretion. If people start acting weird and
brainwashed, someone’s going to notice.” You told him. “Remember, your safety is my
priority, but if you want us to end up on the receiving end of an adventuring party’s wrath
then by all means, do what you please.” You reminded him.
“It’s just… Nerve wracking. How many times will I have to scarf down my food in a busy
tavern and hope no one sees me? I honestly didn’t expect appearances to be so hard to keep
up.” He confided in you. Addanil could indeed kill many people in this hamlet by himself if
he so desired. He could kill you. He was powerful, greedy, and terrifying and yet you knew
better. You saw beyond all of that. You saw someone who was scared. Someone who wanted
success. Someone who wanted to love.

“Addanil, I assure you, you’re doing fine in that regard…” You whispered and joined him in
bed. You gently took one of his tentacles in your hand, allowing it to wrap around it. “There
are plenty of humans that are grumpy as dwarves.” You giggled.

“I am not that cantankerous! You take that back!” Addanil whined. You giggled even more.
“Alright, maybe you’re not dwarf levels of grump. You’re still being grumpy.” You teased.

“I apologize if my behavior embarrassed you. You’ve only been trying to negotiate for me
and I’ve been treating everyone like a drow matron treats males on a good day.” He
apologized. You thought that was quite mature of him.

“You were being kind of a bitch.” You softly agreed.

“You’re not supposed to agree like that!” Addanil hissed. You smirked at him.

“Look at me. Tomorrow will be a better day.” You pulled the blanket over him.

“But today is only halfway done…” Addanil said.

“You can stay here all day if you need to. It’s alright to take all the time you need. I know
I’ve been asking a lot of you. I’m proud of you.” You whispered.

Addanil couldn’t imagine what reason you’d have to be proud of him. No one had ever been
proud of him before. He’s done good work for his creed, and it was acknowledged, but those
things were expected of him. They were his duty to his colony.

“What is there to be proud of?” Addanil asked.

“You’re holding it together better than you know. Some people just break under pressure.
You’ve always been a bit prickly when you’re stressed. I guess ending up in an unfamiliar
place hiding who and what you are is as stressful as it gets.” You said.

“I know we’re in an inn but… Would the tiny hut help you feel safe?” You offered.
“It no longer brings me comfort. That sense of safety was violated when I first lost you…”
Addanil admitted.

“The likelihood of a drow priestess wanting to kidnap me again, all the way out here is slim
unless you somehow ate multiple drow women that worship Lolth from all over Toril.” You
joked.

“Proceed.” They pulled the blanket over their tentacles. You spend the ten minutes it takes to
cast your spell. The opaque dome with a darkened inside appears around your bed.

“Do you still feel safe with me?” Addanil asked. Why on Toril was he asking a question like
that? Did he need reassurance? You came closer to him and pulled his blanket over you,
making him share it with you. You feel his warm tentacles softly wrap around you.

“Does this answer your question? Would someone who felt unsafe do this?” You asked. You
lazily kissed one of his tentacles. Perhaps you needed another nap too… You both barely
slept 5 hours today. It was no wonder Addanil was in a less than pleasant mood.

Addanil held you close. This was the safest he’d felt all day.
 Self Control (Or Lack Thereof)
Chapter Summary

Raphraxus becomes bored and a game of draughts becomes much more interesting.

Raphraxus had begun exploring every inch of the room, making sure to stay away from the
windows. He couldn’t be caught peeking out of them. “It’s rather dull, isn’t it? And I have to
stay here for 24 whole hours?” Raphraxus lamented.

“Sorry, Raph. You know any normal humanoid will think you’re scary. They’re not as strong
as you are, and we really don’t want to cause a scene.” Syllan frowned.

“I guess that would be bad, considering the average humanoid has more muscle than your
combined party.” He teased Syllan.

“Let’s see… I guess we have to think of something for you to do… Oh! We have a draughts
board in here!” Syllan suggested. “Do you know how to play?” He asked.

“Know how to play? It's just baby's first planar dragonchess. Of course I know how to play."
Raphraxus affirmed.

"Planar… Dragonchess?" Syllan quirked a brow.

"Well standard dragonchess has 3 boards… Planar dragonchess consists of 21, sometimes 22
boards all arranged in circular wheels. 16 boards on the outside represent the outer planes.
Four inside that circle represent the elements and the center is the prime material." He
started to explain. This was mind boggling to Syllan.

"Wait, what about the 22nd board?" Syllan asks.

"The optional board! The Astral Board can be included when you really want to be a
pompous jerk and further complicate things. That addition came from The Encephilithid
brilliant mind…" Raphraxus' compliment about his elder brain was entirely sarcastic.

"You actually play that nightmarish nonsense??" Syllan couldn't imagine what the rules of
such a game looked like.

"Hahaha! No. I'll let you in on a little secret. I don't know how to play any better than you do.
It is a game mostly played among the Elder Concord. Unsurprisingly, The Encephalithid is
the city champion. It has never lost a tournament." Raphraxus thought it would be a game
someone like Dallimeze could have some aptitude at because it was torture to play.

Syllan didn't have to imagine the "prize" one would win for actually beating The
Encephilithid. It would probably insist that the victory didn't count because of some obscure
rule. "Did you want to play some draughts?" Syllan asked, taking out the board.

"Why not? I promise not to cheat by reading your mind. I don't think I'll have to." Raphraxus
accepted. He usually played fairly. Cheating at dragonchess by reading your opponent's mind
was generally discouraged, even against an individual of a thrall race. One was expected to
win with their own intellect. They set up the board on a small table in the room and began to
play. Raphraxus took the red stones and syllan took white.

At first Syllan was starting strong, taking several of his opponent's pieces. "I thought you
didn't need to cheat." Syllan smirked.

"I'm admittedly a little rusty. I have not played in years." Raphraxus wasn't afraid to say. "I
wouldn't be so smug about my lack of practice. The game isn't over until you have claimed all
my pieces." He reminds Syllan. The two of them continued moving pieces. Raphraxus took
his turns far more quickly. He started capturing pieces too. At the end of the game, Raphraxus
managed to win with 2 pieces remaining.

"You almost had me! If you want to play another round, I won't be letting my guard down."
He crossed his arms smugly. He knew Raphraxus hadn't cheated to win and that he'd be going
first. The ulitharid was no joke of an opponent! He decided to humor him since he was
bored.

"Alright. One more round." Syllan challenged him.

They once again set up the pieces. To Syllan's surprise, Raphraxus was taking his pieces far
more easily. "Like I said, I don't need to cheat to win." He said after capturing three of
Syllan's pieces. This game was effortless to him.

"The game's not over until you claim all the pieces." Syllan reminded him. If he couldn't beat
Raphraxus with skill, maybe he could distract the ulitharid into making a mistake! It sure was
warm in here. Syllan loosened his robes significantly, showing off his bare chest.
The buff ulitharid didn't need to read the sorcerer's mind to know what he was trying to do.
He laughed darkly in Syllan's mind. "That's cute…" He makes his move and reaches over the
table with a tentacle. It wrapped around Syllan’s neck. His grip was firm enough to hold the
half-elf in place without cutting off his air supply or circulation. Syllan gasped, his cheeks
turning pink at his lover's grasp. "You certainly love playing dangerous games. Sometimes
you forget that two can play such games." Raphraxus teased. Syllan stuttered, unable to come
up with a clever response. "We technically have all day but do you really want to make me
wait? Well? Go on. Make your move." He sensually taunted him.

Syllan stared at the board until he realized his plan had worked! Raphraxus made an error
thanks to the sorcerer’s salacious display and he was able to jump over two of his pieces with
one of his own. Raphraxus' eyes widened when he realized what had happened. He knew
what Syllan was doing and he still fell for the trap! That slutty little sorcerer duped him! He
gave Syllan an amused laugh. "You won't be getting away with that again." He assured him.
He reached a few tentacles under the table. They wrapped around his waist and one of them
snaked their way into his pants. Syllan whimpered softly.

"Aww, Raph, that's not fair!" He whined. He feels the warm slickness of the tentacle against
his hardening shaft.

"Rules for me but not for thee? You started playing dirty first." He pointed out while looking
at the board. He considers his next move more carefully and takes it. He resisted looking into
Syllan's mind, no matter how cute those pathetic little noises were. Syllan made his move
without a word. His face was turning red.

"Hmm. What to do? What to do?" Raphraxus took his sweet time taking his move as he
stroked Syllan's manhood. In one last attempt to distract him, Syllan licked the ulitharid's
tentacle around his neck. "If you want to play a different game, you'll have to finish this one.
I'll accept your surrender." He softly bullied the sorcerer, lightly slapping a fourth tentacle
against his cheek. "You want to give in, don't you?"

Those words in his mind were driving him crazy! Of course he wanted to give in! He couldn't
give in yet. He wanted to be stubborn. He made a move, completely at random. "You're not
even paying attention! Are we too stubborn to give up?" Raphraxus teased. Syllan nodded at
his question.

"Well then…" Raphraxus pulled his tentacles away from Syllan. "You don't get to cum until
we're done. You'll be left yearning if we can't finish before your friends return." He
threatened. The threat of being blue-balled was more than enough to break Syllan’s
willpower. He couldn’t get his words out and he was trying so hard! All that came out was
flustered whimpers. He pulled off his clothing right there when he couldn’t find his words.

“Are you surrendering?” Raphraxus asked, a tone of amusement in his voice. “You know
what I want. Use your words…” He teased.

“F-fuck… Yes! You win!” Syllan admitted defeat.

“I think I’ll accept my prize now.” Raphaxus rose from his seat and moved to Syllan. He
effortlessly picked up the needy half-elf, bringing him over his shoulder.

“Oh, shit…” Syllan gasped. It was incredibly arousing to him when Raphraxus moved him
like this. Whenever he was tired of walking, he found himself fantasizing about the buff
ulitharid carrying him. He placed Syllan onto the bed and pinned him down.

“You know you did this to yourself. ” Raphraxus was growing as insatiable as Syllan as he
entered the sorcerer’s mind.

“It takes two, Raphraxus.” Syllan mentally replied, pointing out that the aberration was just
as dirty as him.

“I suppose neither of us can really control ourselves around each other, can we? This is the
longest I’ve ever gotten to share your company…” Raphraxus mused.

“I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’m all yours.” Syllan’s voice was soft yet clear in
telling him that. He gave in to the ulitharid completely. He had no time to be stubborn if he
wanted to finish.

“Oh, you’re all mine, are you? How’d you like me to mark you and make it official? It’s not
like we have to hide our love from your party anymore.” He projected his naughty thoughts
into Syllan’s mind.

“Yes. Please.” Syllan whimpered. Raphraxus brought his mouth on Syllan’s shoulder. The
half-elf let out an unrestrained moan. Raphraxus was very careful not to draw blood, but his
teeth left effortless indents into his flesh. “Oh, fuck! Mark me! Make me yours!” Syllan
moans. He couldn’t be bothered to be quiet now. He was giving up control and finally letting
go for Raphraxus.

He remembered the first time Raphraxus bit him. It was the day that they met. The aberration
was going for the sorcerer’s head. Syllan squirmed just in time and Raphraxus missed. His
mouth planted against his neck, yet he never tore into his flesh. It was the very first time a
ceremorph had ever turned him on. After the half-elf’s escape, he was left confused for
months about why Syllan felt that way. Raphraxus was glad that Syllan survived and returned
to him in order to satisfy those questions. Raphraxus now could never imagine consuming the
sorcerer’s mind. His companionship was far more valuable to him.

Raphraxus growled sensually against his ear. His own body became hot from Syllan’s lust.
He left more marks on the half-elf’s chest and side. Each marking made Syllan moan. The
aberration looked over his handiwork. He knew the marks would eventually disappear with
little evidence of having ever been there. Raphraxus wanted the sight of them etched into his
mind forever. He softly traced his tentacles over the marks. Syllan whimpered needily at his
touch.

“Are you alright, Syllan?” Raphraxus checked in with him. He panted softly as he lovingly
rubbed Syllan’s cheek with a tentacle. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t sending his lover’s
mind into an anxious space.

“Perfect…” He whispered. He held the tentacle rubbing against his cheek and planted several
kisses on it.

“Good boy. That’s my good boy.” Raphraxus praised. Syllan felt his body being
telekinetically pulled into place. He’s pushed onto his back. His arms are pinned above his
head and his legs are spread. Syllan pathetically squirms against his telekinetic bonds.

“Oh fuck. Use me before they get back.” Syllan begged. His face was red.

“I’m glad you’re using your words but you’re forgetting to use the magic ones…” Raphraxus
playfully scolded. Syllan panted in lustful frustration.

“Please… Please fuck me!”

“Say my name.” He worked the lustful sorcerer up even more.

“P-please fuck me, Raphraxus!” Syllan pleaded. Raphraxus pushes the tentacle Syllan was
kissing into his mouth and the sorcerer eagerly sucks on it.

“That’s it. Good boy. You don’t have to say another word. Not unless you want to.”
Raphraxus praised, satisfied with Syllan’s begging. He had a feeling Syllan wouldn’t be
saying much of anything coherent soon anyway.

The ulitharid’s powerful tentacles further secure him, tightening around his arms and legs.
Even if Syllan managed to break his concentration on telekinesis, he wasn’t going anywhere.
He was completely immobilized. Syllan’s member twitched as his remaining two tentacles
began to lubricate Syllan. “I think I’ll try something new. Let’s see if you can take two
tentacles.” He wanted to at least warn Syllan before doing it, so the half-elf wouldn’t get an
unpleasant surprise. Syllan didn’t put up the slightest effort to stop him. He wanted him to try
it.

Raphraxus eased his slippery tentacles inside, alternating his thrusts between them. It was so
tight! The pressure felt immensely good on his tentacles. He refrains from going quite so
deep. He didn’t want to completely ruin Syllan but he could tell the sorcerer was enjoying
this. The ulitharid pulls their tentacle from his mouth, sensing an overwhelming urge to
speak. Syllan’s eyes rolled back. He couldn’t hold back his moans. “G-Gods, Raph! Don’t
stop!” He started to moan, completely unrestrained. He simply couldn’t control himself.

Raphraxus was happy to let him lose control. He didn’t care who heard them. It was an Inn,
after all. They probably heard noises like this all the time. Maybe the sound of tentacles
filling a sorcerer were a bit foreign but the thought of having sex with a creature like
Raphraxus didn’t enter most people’s minds.

Raphraxus lost concentration on his telekinesis several moments ago but Syllan didn’t even
seem to notice. The tentacle that was in Syllan’s mouth leaves a slimy trail as it slides down
his body to stroke the sorcerer’s cock. His moans became completely unrestrained. “So this is
what you’re really like when you don’t hold back. I have to say I’m a fan.” Raphraxus was
starting to moan softly. He had to hold back because he knew he’d sound strange and alien to
any observer. It was a soft role reversal between them. He knew Syllan was close. He held
Syllan’s hands. Their fingers intertwined as the sorcerer reached his limits. Syllan’s back
arched as he came all over his own stomach. He finished with a loud whimper that the
ulitharid considered adorable.

Raphraxus slowly released him and pulled away. “I’d cuddle with you, but I should probably
get you cleaned up first.”

“Eh. Just use your other pants. I brought them along. You know. To hide the evidence…”
Syllan blushed at that last sentence. Raphraxus laughed at the fact that he had even thought to
do that.

“Thanks. I appreciate you.” He took the pants out of Syllan’s bag and wiped his lover clean,
though Syllan still very much smelled like him.

There was a knock at the door, causing them both to jump. “Hey! Syllan! We’re back! Let us
in!” Zarimm called.
“J-just a minute!” Syllan stammered.

“Hah! I knew it! You owe me 10 gold, Phoebe!” Zarimm laughed.

“You don’t know anything!” Syllan denied, his face turning red.

“No one cares. Except Yar’rel. Just make yourself decent.” Phoebe said.

Syllan scrambled to put on his clothes. He made Raphraxus hide so no one would see him
when he opened the door. “The Ghaik smell is even worse…” Yar’rel muttered. “Phoebe
definitely owes Zarimm 10 gold.” She remarked. Syllan covered his face. “Really!? My
draughts board!?” She was upset that the ghaik had touched her pieces!

“It’s not your draughts board.” Phoebe corrected.

“I paid for it! It’s mine!” The githyanki protested.

“You bought it for all of us to play with! Stop being fucking rude, Yar’rel.” Zarimm pointed
out.

“Tsk’va!” Yar’rel grumbled and crossed her arms.

“We have more important things to worry about right now.” Phoebe focused their efforts after
making sure the door was locked. The next step was to get Raphraxus’ disguise together and
figure out how the hell they were going to explain this to Syllan’s parents.
 Bonded
Chapter Summary

Vizaness awakes from a nightmare and Kalamash comforts her.

Vizaness was having a fitful sleep. “... cranky because you caught feelings for Zusrall, aren’t
you?”

She was having a horrible nightmare about her own feelings. “You’re better than that.”
Vebeva never meant to mess with her head this badly, but just when she was getting over not
knowing what this “Bond” stuff was about, the ulitharid made these concerns rear their ugly
heads once again. Ugly heads that the illithid couldn’t simply bite into.

“Love?! A flayer doesn’t have any time for love! Get the cage now, bitch!” A Breeder Named
Slissbax yelled. The echo of a slap cracked through her dreams, flashing through her
dreamscape like lightning.

“Go away!” Vizaness shut the troubling voices out. Her dreamscape became dark, deep blue
and sorrowful. Her pain became jagged, growing closer in the form of thorns on dark navy
vines that threatened to cut her. She escaped it, fleeing into a dripping cave. In the cave she
saw her host. An elven woman of bronzed skin and beautiful golden blonde hair, lovingly
kissing Zusrall. She remembered what she looked like before the tadpole like it was
yesterday.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Zusrall’s thrall. They looked at her apologetically.
“You can’t have that bond. You have to find your own, Vizaness.” The thrall told her.

“What am I even looking for?! I don’t understand! How will I know?” She turned to look at
Zusrall once more and his thrall was with him. They were walking away from her as Zusrall
held their leash. Vizaness woke up crying. When she realized she was drenched in her own
slime from her bad dream, she grew angry with herself. “Grow up, Vizaness! You’re not a
child! Crying from your dreams is for children!” Vizaness clearly internalized Vebeva’s
words. Her self scolding was interrupted by Kalamash.
“Mistress? Are you alright? I felt sadness from you…” The half-orc stumbled in wearing
nothing. He’d always slept naked and was so concerned for his mistress, he didn’t bother to
throw anything on! She blushed slightly at her thrall’s immodesty.

“I’m fine… Wait, what do you mean, you felt it??” She realized immediately that the
powerful emotion of her bad dream had woken her thrall up!

“Sometimes when you have bad dreams, I feel them…” Kalamash admitted. The realization
made her begin sobbing. She had so little control over herself that anyone could feel the
emotional content of her dreams!?

Childish. Undisciplined. Irresponsible. Foolish. Inane. Fatuous. Stupid. All of these were
words Vizaness thought about herself because she’d been called them by someone at some
point. Every failure and every perception of a flaw brought them bubbling to the surface of
her mind in a cruel chant. She was pulled out of her darkened feelings and into Kalamash’s
arms. He didn’t care that she was dripping all over him.

“You don’t sound fine…” Kalamash pointed out.

“I’m not… I lied…” She weakly admitted.

Kalamash left her side for a moment. He returned quickly with his blanket. She was confused
about why he had brought that until he started wiping her face with it.

“Kalamash…” She weakly laughed through her tears. “You could have gotten a towel…”

“Uhm. It’s extra big for a really big cry…” In his sleepy state it was all he could think to
grab.

“Oh, Kalamash…” She hugged him tiredly.

“I know I’m not as smart as you and I don’t understand a lot of stuff but if you want to talk
about any feelings, I can listen…” Kalamash offered. Vizaness thought about his words.
Should she really be telling him this? Would he even get it?

“Have you ever… Loved someone?” She asked.

“Of course! My mother and my father. Miss Surkin at the orphanage… She was really nice.”
He said.

“He was an orphan? Well that explains how he became an adventurer…” She thought to
herself. “I meant, love as in… You know…” She shyly made a heart with her tentacles to try
and illustrate her point. “Like your mother loved your father.”

“Oh!” Kalamash felt silly. “I, uh, liked people before, but I never asked anyone… The one
time I did, it really hurt. Josephine seemed pretty and nice but she was actually really mean
the day before we came here…” He frowned. “But I’m not sad about it anymore because
people here are nice to me.” He assured her.

He did understand. He understood unrequited love even if he didn’t even know how to spell
“unrequited”.

“I feel sad because I fell in love with someone who loves someone else…” She softly
admitted. Kalamash’s slower mind didn’t catch on that it was Zusrall.

“I know what that feels like… Were they mean to you?” He frowned, concerned that
someone was hurting his mistress.

“No. They weren’t mean to me.” She assured him, wrapping a tentacle around his wrist,
feeling the brand of a prized thrall upon it. “You’re so soft…” She commented.

“I am?” He flexes and feels his muscles. “But I do 7 sets of 9 reps of my exercises every
morning!” He started to think his muscles weren’t sculpted and firm enough! Vizaness
laughed at his remarks. “Wh-what’s so funny…? I don’t get it.” He asked.

“You’re emotionally soft. Not physically.” She could tell he still didn’t get it. She was hinting
that he was too nice. “You’re… Really nice.” She leaned in to be held once more.

“I think you’re really nice too, Mistress.” Kalamash smiled softly. He was indeed a softy. She
didn't even eat live meals in front of him anymore because they made him sad. He didn't hate
her for it because he knew she had no choice. Kalamash personally refused to eat anything
capable of feeling pain. "Josephine" had cruelly ruined crabs for him when she informed him
that they were boiled alive and it hurt the entire time they were cooking. Oysters at least
couldn't feel pain, his mistress assured him. He got much of his protein from eggs, and his
mistress was kind enough to accommodate his more vegetarian preferences.

"Do you want to sleep in my bed in case you have another bad dream?" Kalamash offered.
He'd be able to hug her if she got sad again. He was just a pretty plaything. She said it
herself. That didn't stop him from wanting to help her feel better. She caught onto this
immediately as she peered into his mind. He didn’t want to be a mere tool. He wanted to be
more.
A Breeder Named Slisskbax constantly warned her about the dangers of Chronic Thrall
Dependency. Taking naps in the thrall's bed was a sign of the disorder according to the
ulitharid. This was her domicile. She'll go where she damn well pleases in it! What did
someone who backhanded their thralls know about her and Kalamash anyway??

She wrapped her tentacles around him gently. "Yes. Please." She let him carry her bridal style
as she hugged his blanket. Kalamash brought the tired illithid to his bed, setting her down
gently. He only had that one blanket, and he shared it with her. His warm naked body was
close to her. Her hand brushed against his manhood. He figured that her touch was an
accident. She only touched him like that when they were at The Breeding Pen. She pulled her
hand away, blushing at the thoughts she was thinking. She couldn't sleep. Not yet. Not until
her curiosity was satisfied. She had to try one last time to understand.

“Kalamash… I still can’t sleep.” She lamented.

“Mn… Can I fix it?” He asked.

“Maybe? ...What makes you feel loved?” She asked.

Kalamash blushed in response to her question. “Uhm… When I get kisses…” He answered.
No wonder Zusrall wanted to kiss his thrall so badly. “And uhm. When you teach me to make
other thralls feel good.” His face slowly turned redder. “When you call me a good boy. The
others… They say I cause problems sometimes, but you always stand up for me. You know
more than them. You give me a chance when no one else does.” He looked her directly in the
eyes as told her that last bit.

She slowly reached her clawed hands up, touching his cheeks. He was nearly two feet taller
than her, but then again, She was a short illithid at only 5’ 3’’ft tall. Almost instinctively,
Kalamash rested his forehead against hers. It was a strange feeling to Kalamash. It was nearly
overwhelming. He gives in to it completely. It was warm and it was seeking something. What
was she looking for? It finally became obvious to the oblivious half-orc. He pulled her into a
passionate kiss. Vizaness gasped softly. Her chest heaved upon the realization that he loved
her. It wasn’t just Zusrall frowning on the day that he first kissed his thrall. It was Kalamash
too… Those words she’d said came back to bite her.

“Oh, Kalamash… I’m such a fool…” She brought herself into his lap. She was silently
encouraging him to kiss her more, to which he obliged. “My bond… It was here the entire
time and I pushed it away. I pushed you away.” She realized.

“But I’m right here. What can I do to make you feel better? I don’t want you being mean to
yourself anymore.” Kalamash wrapped his arms around her. He’d stay up as long as it took to
make her feel better. It was his job to protect her too, even from herself.

Vizaness pokes her tentacles together. “Let’s try to feel good with just the two of us. It helps
the bad feelings go away.” She knew he wasn’t very intelligent. Her telepathic explanations
were often simplified for him to understand. She leaned back in his lap and started rubbing
his semi-erect member with a tentacle. She lets out soft little purrs as his cock hardens in her
grip.

“Do you like that, my good boy?” She asked him sweetly. She knew he did, but she wanted
to hear him say it. She wanted to dive deeper into the feeling she’d found. She wanted him.

“Yes… So good! Amazing!” He’d never had his mistress all to himself before.

Sure, the other thralls were nice and he really liked some of them, but he’d often fantasized
about what Zusrall had. Despite the half-orc’s lack of insight, he was perfectly aware that he
was merely a conduit for Zusrall to express his love to his thrall in ways the illithid couldn’t.
It felt good to help Zusrall and make everyone happy, but his mistress deserved to have that
“special someone” if she wanted it. He wanted to be special to her.

He was never forced to mate with the thralls that were mean to him. Vizaness never allowed
it, occasionally stating “As per our policy, A Breeding Pen Employee can refuse breeding
services for any reason!” Vizaness could and often did protect him more than she realized. In
kind, his mere presence was often enough to scare away any threat, like a woman keeping a
large dog at her side.

She was focusing on his mind, practically meditating upon it. His mind was a simple place.
There was almost nothing he could hide from her. She could no longer deny looking at it. His
thoughts were often frankly stupid and naive but she’d found it occasionally endearing. Two
of her tentacles wrapped around his wrists. She wanted to make him feel special. Their minds
grew closer.

She sleepily laid back on the bed and brought her thighs together. “Try using my thighs.” She
told him. It wasn’t a command. Her tone was closer to that of someone wanting to try
something new. Kalamash gripped her thighs and began thrusting his long girthy shaft
between them. Her experiment was working remarkably well. Her slimy body was the perfect
lubricant. Vizaness panted and moaned softly. “Oh, that works nicely…” She definitely
couldn’t sleep now. Every thrust was shaking her body. The sound of flesh slapping against
flesh made a wet plapping sound.
She used a third tentacle, snaking it between her thighs. It started coiling like a sleeve around
his cock as he thrust, ensuring every single inch of his cock would be pleased at all times.
Vizaness’ eyes rolled back. Her voice gradually became gooier with each passing moment.
“Oh fuck! Kala maa… So good! Don’t stop!” She squeaked. She stroked her fingertips
against her free tentacle, pleasuring her own erogenous zone like she would if she still had
breasts.

Kalamash fully understood that his pleasure made his mistress feel good. He could feel her in
his head. She just normally preferred to be in the thoughts of his partners. She loved feeling
what he did to them, and made sure he didn’t hurt them by accident. Truthfully, many of his
partners actually enjoyed Kalamash quite a bit once they got to know him. Many simply
didn’t give him the chance. It was their masters that feared him most, getting absorbed into
the fears of their prized thralls. Afterall, who would know better about breeding thralls than
the thralls?

Vizaness gave him that chance. Their minds connected like yin and yang. She was his yin.
She was his charm, his wisdom, she knew everything that he didn’t and concealed him from
the horrors of the world around him. He was her yang. He was her lost innocence. He was her
shield, her strength, and her tireless champion at a moment’s notice. Their minds pulled
together along with the friction of every thrust bringing him closer to the edge.

She smelled of pure vanilla to him. She’d followed A Breeder Named Slisskbax’s example in
the past, backhanding a thrall for daring to lick her. Kalamash was a gentleman and always
waited until he was given permission. Despite his lack of common sense, her boundaries
were always clear to him. Instinctively she sensed his desire, and reached her free tentacle to
his lips. He leaned in to lick and suck it. He eagerly accepted her offer. Anyone else would
have made her feel violated but with him… With him it was gentle and warm and sweet.

Her whole body felt hot, mimicking and reacting to the stimuli Kalamash felt. She gave into
him fully and completely, letting out gooey moans as he grew more and more worked up. The
sounds of slippery wet flesh being slapped by rough and powerful orcish thrusting grew
louder in her domicile. Perhaps Vebeva was right about her having something in common
with Dallimeze and it felt too good for her to care. He emptied her worried mind and filled it
with his love and pleasure. She looked up at his face in the darkened room, drinking in his
blissful state.
She felt herself relax, sinking deeper and deeper. She bound her own legs together at the
knees with her tentacle and reached out for his hands with her own. She used her tentacles to
pull his hands to hers and grasped them tightly. She let out gurgled whimpers. All she felt
was him. All she could perceive was him. Their connection linked like a mobius strip. One
loop. One side. Two becoming a gradient of one. She arched her back, shivering as she felt
his seed splattering onto her stomach. The feeling of his semen marking her was immensely
pleasurable as she rubbed it in with her tentacles.

She loved the way the cum of thralls made her skin feel when it was cleaned away. She took
any excuse imaginable to “accidentally” get caught in the crossfire when she was at The
Breeding Pen and training male thralls. She once fantasized about several thralls making use
of her body and wisely kept it to herself. Now she had Kalamash to fulfill her needs
unrestrained. She giggled from the rush of endorphins, laying there with her tentacles in
curled contentment.

Kalamash made sure to get a clean rag to clean his mistress off with as he gently cleaned her.
Unlike Zusrall’s thrall, Kalamash was almost never denied his urges. Unless he was working,
he was able to masturbate during his off hours as much as he pleased. He never told her this,
but she knew he liked to pretend the lotion on his hand was her tentacle. “I think I’ll be able
to sleep now.” Vizaness tells him. Her cheeks were pale as she blushed.

“I’m happy about that. Can I kiss you again?” Kalamash asked. “Your face looks like the
moon when you blush. It’s pretty…”

She levitated to meet his lips, wrapping her arms and tentacles around him tenderly. The
spark of their new bond spread through them warmly as he kissed her. It was there all along.
It was merely hidden from view like a new moon. Vizaness only needed to manually turn its
phase to see it in all its pale and silver beauty.
 The Masks Come Off
Chapter Summary

Dess and Wind reveal the truth to eachother.

Early in the morning, the caravan made its way into Assam. “Looks like this is our stop!
Thanks!” Run Like The Wind calls to the caravan owner as he helps Dess out of the caravan.

“Whatever. Good luck getting to wherever you’re going after this. The closest inn is The
Roadway Inn, right here on the main street.” She tells them. In order to afford to stay at the
inn, Dess sold the war pick he scavenged from a duergar to the merchant who brought them
to this town for 5 gold. She must have felt bad about his situation, because she gave him full
retail price when she normally would have only given him 2 or 3 gold. He seemed strangely
excited to trade with her.

Dess was over the moon that he got to engage in what the Possessors called “commerce”.
The coins he was given were pressed with a circle of six tiny stars on one side. “Where were
these coins minted?” Dess inspected them thoughtfully. “Winnfred” thought it was a strange
question for a gnome from Turmish to ask.

“They’re Amnian Danters.” Wind responded. “Their electrum pieces are called centaurs.
Silver pieces are called taran and copper pieces are called fander. Platinum pieces are called
roldons.” He explained. “I know the exchange rates of those coins if it ever becomes
relevant.”

“Fascinating! You sound like a reliable person in commerce!” Dess complimented. He was
genuinely fascinated learning about foreign currency. In truth, Keegan was the source of his
knowledge, but he didn’t feel like bringing her up again.

“Keep those coins tucked away and safe. You don’t want someone to snatch them from you.”
Wind warned him.

“People would do that? Just steal money right from someone’s hand??” Dess asks. “I guess it
makes sense since commerce is so important to people on- in this land.” He corrected
himself.
“If you have a lot of coins, it’s best to spread them out and not keep them all in one place.
That way if a few get snatched, you haven’t lost everything.” Wind gave some advice. He
couldn’t believe how sheltered this gnome seemed. He couldn’t leave this stranger alone! He
would surely be taken advantage of or worse! Dess often knew when someone didn’t mean
him well, and he fully understood the concept of stealing. He simply never thought anyone
would be that bold.

They made their way to The Roadway Inn. The floor of the entry room was quite dusty from
the merchants kicking up dirt from outside. The innkeeper was a middle aged shield dwarf
woman. “Welcome to The Roadway Inn. Not often we get folks that look like adventurers
through here. We have three rooms left if you’re staying.” She tells them.

“How much is a room?” Wind asked.

“3 gold.” The dwarven woman answered. They could only afford one room. Damn, Keegan!
She had all the money and Wind didn’t even think to grab a single coin.

“We can only afford one room.” Dess pointed out.

“It’s not a big deal. I’m not tired. It’s more for your rest anyway.” Wind said. They paid for
the room. Unlike the lobby of the inn, the room was actually clean, even if the
accommodations were simple. There were two beds in the room. At least it had that going for
it. Dess inspected the bed. There wasn’t a single patch of moss to be found! What was this
strange material? What was this yellow straw like material? It was indeed straw but Dess had
never seen it before. It looked like it was topped with fur. He wished he could take off a glove
to feel it! Maybe if he pulled the blanket over himself… He started to crawl into the bed. He
was quite tired…

“You sleep with your hat on?” Wind asked him, sitting on the bed. Dess froze in place.

“Nooo! That would be silly! Who sleeps with their hat on??” Dess chuckled nervously. “You
aren’t taking your armor off?” Dess asked.

“...No.” Wind responded. He realized they were both hiding something, but should he bring it
up or mind his own business? It was too strange not to think about it!

“I’ll share my secret if you share yours first.” Dess offered. If he was going to travel with
him, it would probably be better to be honest.

“What makes you think I’m hiding a secret? You’re the one acting weird!” Wind asked,
deflecting. Dess picked up a sense of dread from the stranger.
“Take it easy… I’m not going to tell anyone your secret.” Dess tried to calm them down.
“I’m hiding secrets of my own…” He decided to take a chance and speak to him
telepathically.

“Not again… I ditched Keegan so if that freak is looking for her, I don’t know or care where
she is!” Wind doesn’t mask his disappointment of dealing with yet another mindflayer, but he
makes no move to harm them.

“Ouch. That’s rude. I don’t even know who this Keegan person is! Is that your former lover?”
Dess sounded hurt by Wind’s words.

“Ah, geeze. You’re right. I’m sorry. I guess I’d be really hurt if someone said ‘Ew, a
nimblewright!’” Wind covered his non-existent mouth after realizing what he just said.

“Ah, so that’s why you were able to disguise yourself as a gallant knight! Don’t worry. I
haven’t been to Oryndoll in weeks so I’m not privy to whatever happened back there. I’m
more interested in social sciences than technology. I’m an anthropologist!” Dess slowly
pulled off his disguise.

“Well… Since our masks are coming off, here’s mine.” Wind shows off his handsomely
crafted golden face that was hiding within the built in helmet. He stared at Wind. “Woaaah….
Can I touch your face, please?” Dess asked, looking at the construct with those big round and
pretty eyes.

A tiny bit of steam came out of his ears. What a weird request, but the way this tiny illithid
made it was oddly adorable to him. “Alright, but only a little bit. Just don’t try to pry
anything off.” Run Like The Wind never had anyone appreciate his features up close since
the day he was made. Not even Keegan looked at him that closely. Dess slowly levitated to
get eye level with him and lightly touched his face, admiring the carving of his mustache and
beard. Even his eyebrows were sculpted intricately! “The level of detail is astounding! What
gemstone are these eyes made of?” He made sure not to poke him in the eyes. Even if the
construct couldn’t feel it, that would be rude!

“I think they were black garnets.” Wind responded to his question. “ I hope you’re not going
to be anything like Ellimol.” He thought.

“That illithid gives me the willies! He’s gross and weird!” Dess responded to his thoughts.
He knew about his Nourisher Creed project. He heard about the things that go on at The
Breeding Pen and he didn’t care to participate in any of it. He firmly believed that the
purpose of sexual activity was for procreation. Illithids didn’t procreate so he saw no reason
to do it.
Dess’ words brought immense comfort to Wind even if he realized Dess was reading his
thoughts. “So what’s your actual name?” Run Like The Wind asks.

“It really is Dess. Not Desmond. Just Dess. Or Dessy or whatever nickname you deign fit to
give me.” The gnome ceremorph poked their fingers together.

“You’re a terrible liar!” Wind teased. Dess’ tentacles curled to simulate puffed out cheeks in
annoyance.

“No I’m not! You didn’t think it was my real name, so I’d say my deception was perfectly in
place!” Dess denied. “What’s your real name anyway?”

“Run Like The Wind. Wind for short. I know it’s a mouthful. They named me like a damned
horse…” The construct placed a palm to his face.

“It's a pretty name!” Dess audibly insisted. “What’s wrong with being named like a horse?
They’re neat!” He refused to see anything wrong with that, because there wasn’t in his mind.
More steam came out of his ears, and he squealed softly. Dess flinched back a bit.

“I-I-I guess…” He took a moment to calm himself down. “I guess it bothers me because
people treat me like a horse… Like property.” Wind tried to explain. He wasn’t sure a
mindflayer could understand that but he did, very clearly at that.

“You want to be free to do whatever you like, but you feel like such a name enslaves you… If
anything, I think the meaning of those words together is a mantra of freedom in and of itself,
if you choose to believe in it.” Dess sat next to the nimblewright.

“Huh?” Wind was confused on how his name brought him freedom.

“What if we strike it out on our own? Let’s run away from our problems together! We can
spit and shake on it! Well maybe not spit. That would be gross and you can’t even actually
spit anyway…” He proposed, going on a bit of a tangent.

The construct extended a golden hand to Dess. The gnome ceremorph took it in both his
hands and shook it enthusiastically. “So were you really from Turmish?” Wind asked.

“Well… I personally wasn’t. My host was. Xorhun was a nice town… I wonder if Mother
still lives there. I suppose it doesn’t matter now. I can’t go back looking like this." Dess
shared.

“I can empathize. I’ll probably never see my creator again. I could go back, but I don't want
to explain that I ditched Keegan in the middle of a field and that she is dead to me. He’s my
ex lover’s father.” He explained.
“Wait. Doesn’t that technically make you her brother!? That’s so disgusting! Keegan should
be ashamed of herself for taking advantage of you like that!” Dess hated this woman and he
never even met her! He had a rather naive view of the situation.

“I uh, didn’t think about it like that? I’m a construct. It’s not like we share flesh and blood.”
Wind muttered.

“Does your creator know she was dating you?” Dess had no idea what exactly Keegan had
done with him but if he knew the truth, he would probably eat her.

“No. Our relationship started after we left to go adventuring and it ended after we escaped
Oryndoll and returned to the surface. If it was wrong, then it’s over now so it doesn’t matter.”
Wind told Dess.

“It made you feel bad. I felt it when you first mentioned her. Of course it was wrong because
you hated her so much, it made me sick!” Dess admitted to reading his earlier thoughts. “I’ll
go out of my way not to make you feel that way as long as we stick together, however long
you want that to be.” Dess wanted to let him know he would at least respect the construct.

“Thanks…” Wind wasn’t sure what else to say. Not even Keegan talked to him that way. No
one ever talked to him about his feelings before. “Say, aren’t you really tired from all that
running you did? You’re barely staying afloat…” Wind pointed out.

Dess was wobbling a bit. “Oh gee, are you a mind reader too?” He joked before he yawned.
His tentacles stretched as he yawned. He climbed into bed. It was no moss but it was still
comfortable. “I wish I could stay awake to talk to you longer… You’re the most interesting
individual I’ve ever met…” Dess yawned once again.

“I’ll still be here when you wake up. I don’t need to sleep, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Wind assured him. Someone needed to keep him safe and he was the only one who could. He
hadn’t done anything wrong. Dess’ only crime was being strange and perhaps a bit too
excited about humanoid culture. “I think you’re interesting too.”
 Sanctuary in A Tavern
Chapter Summary

You go to the tavern to do some busking and get some dinner. You can't hold your
alcohol.

You decided to take Malorie’s advice. You could play some music at the tavern and get some
dinner. “I’m going next door to the Bucket and Basilisk. Do you want to come with me or do
you want to stay here?" You wanted to give him the choice. You’d been dragging him around
all day. Addanil was practicing in a mirror to make it look like his food was going into his
illusioned mouth but no matter how he tried, it didn’t quite look natural.

“You never were very good at sleight of hand tricks.” You smirked.

“I have a dilemma. That tavern’s seating is too… Open, but I don’t want to let you out of my
sight again. The thought causes me anxiety.” He aired his worries to you.

“You think something bad will happen to me again?” You frowned as you questioned him. He
looked at you, shame in his eyes and a frown on his illusioned human face at the fears he
held. You approached him and pressed your forehead to his.

“Addanil…” You softly whispered his name and spoke soothingly to his mind. “You’re going
to be alright. We are going to be fine. You’re catastrophizing things. Think about it. Nobody
here wishes me harm and what would realistically be the worst case scenario if you somehow
got found out? Everybody runs for the hills while we flee out of town and don new disguises?
If anyone were stupid enough to attack you, I wouldn't allow them to live long enough to
touch you. Obviously, we don’t want to cause a scene, but it doesn’t have to be all doom and
gloom. You’re safe at this moment.” You told him.

“Very well. I trust you. I will remain here. I need to craft a convincing backstory for myself if
people start asking questions about my life in small talk. I need to lie about what homeland I
hail from so I need to get my story straight.” He reasoned.

“Hm…” Your creative mind gets to work as you slowly pull your face away from his.
“You’re a merchant from Amn and… uh. Your mother Alize was a bureaucrat who fell in
love with a criminal named… Fenix! I don’t know, pet smuggling or something was his
crime. Maybe they didn’t talk about it. You lived in a small house after your mother lost
much of her wealth and your father died in combat over a disagreement over gambling in a
tavern.” You begin coming up with a clever backstory.

“I suppose I do look Amnian enough, hm?” He looked at the complexion of his human
disguise in the mirror.

“And then you were accused of kidnapping when you and your lover eloped! And then we
ran away together and ended up here.” You couldn’t resist throwing a juicy bit in there.

“Are we drawing from life experience? Does that not hit too close to home for you?” He
asked.

“In every good lie is a kernel of truth.” You replied.

“I can certainly work with that.” Addanil acknowledged. He felt how excitable your mind
got when it was crafting stories and tall tales. It was endearing to him. “I will be fine. Bring
back something you think will be edible for me.”

You gave him a loving kiss on one of his tentacles and smiled. “I’ll be back later.” You
headed down the stairs and across the street to the tavern. There were a few familiar faces
there for dinner among a few strangers. Bilban, Delvar and Maurdren were there. You waved
to Bilban and decided to set yourself up in the tavern to play your lute, with the barkeeper’s
permission that is. You had an empty tankard with a piece of parchment which read “Ale
Fund”.

“Is the merchant making you earn your dinner?” Delvar jokes.

“No. Don’t be silly!” You chuckled. “Ames had a headache so he’s laying down. He gave me
the money to feed myself. Thank you very much!” You tell him, playfully sticking your
tongue out at him. You begin to play your lute with a happy melody that made Bilban decide
that it needed a friend. He pulled out his tin whistle and began to play too, bringing a cheerful
atmosphere to the small tavern. Patrons clapped along to make a beat to your song. The
patrons began to occasionally place money into your tankard.

Within the half an hour or so that you played for the patrons, you gained 16 copper pieces
and a silver bell without a clapper. You gave an amused smile at the little trinket. It was cute
even if it was useless. Maurdren left it in there “as a souvenir”. You saw him eating bangers
and mash before he left. At some point during your performance, Addanil had come in. He
must have been sneaky because you never even noticed him enter!
“Well look who woke up!” You teased him.

“I was hungry. You’ll be glad to know I was able to get my own food just fine.” Addanil
mentally informed you. He was being especially sneaky! You decided to order some bangers
and mash for yourself, and you decided you would actually get some ale as well. It’s been
years since you had a drink, dammit! You deserved to have a little fun too.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to drink alcohol?” Addanil asked you audibly.

“You’re not my father. I’ll drink what I want.” You told him defiantly.

“If you say so…” Addanil rolled his eyes.

Bilban climbed up into a spare chair at your table. “Thanks for the duet, Bilban.” You told
him.

“It was no problem at all. What’s a little fun before going on a dangerous journey?” Bilban
smiled. “After all, nothing in life is guaranteed. Not even living, so we should do it to the
fullest, right?” Bilban shared a bit of his life philosophy.

“An idiotic and macabre philosophy.” Addanil mentally told you. You ignored him.

“People have different ways of coping with the trials of adventuring. Yours are as valid as
anyone else’s.” You told Bilban, ever so subtly scolding Addanil for his close minded view.

You showed Addanil the money you made. Copper pieces were as good as dirt to Addanil but
at least you were able to spend them on something here. It wasn’t bad for some little hamlet
surrounded by farms.

“That must be this entire settlement’s treasury.” He mentally joked with dry wit to you.
“That’s… good work...” He tried to say something nice audibly.

You snickered. “Thanks. If I save up enough I’ll buy a mansion.” You joked with him.

“Who on Toril put that useless bell in there?” He mentally asked.

“Maurdren.” You replied.

“Of course it was Maurdren…” He said. You were brought your bangers and mash. You dig
in eagerly, biting into the sausage covered in onion gravy. For once it was hot and fresh and it
was delicious! “Finally some good fucking food…” You whispered.
For once you see a smile on Addanil’s illusory face as he held back a laugh.

“Oh no. You had the misfortune of eating a late breakfast. If you get in here too close to
highsun to get breakfast, just forget about it. They don’t even reheat it.” Bilban said.

“A late warning but one that is appreciated.” You told him between bites of your food.
“You’ll have to forgive me for stuffing my face instead of talking.” You apologized, washing
your food down with your ale.

“So… How long have you lived in Selpt?” Addanil tried to make small talk with the halfling.
You were surprised he was actually trying to socialize with these people, but you welcomed
the change of attitude.

“I’ve actually only lived here for about a year. I came all the way from Halruua.” He
responded.

“I’ve never heard of that place.” You admitted.

“It’s a nation to the south of here, although I had thought it destroyed during the Spellplague.
It’s known for magic, electrum mines and wine.” Addanil informed you.

“Actually it was in another world called Abeir! It just recently came back to Toril about a
decade ago? Put right back where it belongs like a puzzle piece. Once it was returned, I
decided to travel and see the world.” Bilban explained how he got to this little hamlet. “I
settled on hunting monsters in Jundarwood for now. Tavoril was born here. Aseir’s family
were immigrants from Calimshan that decided to settle down.” He gave a bit of background
on the others in his hunting party.

“A whole country brought to another world? That sounds terrifying.” Addanil couldn’t
imagine such a thing.

“I was born in Abeir long after it happened. I’m only 48, so I guess it was just reality to me.”
Bilban was nonchalant about the entire thing.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” The merchant asked.

“Not at all! We face down all kinds of beasts in Jundarwood. What’s something with a few
more teeth and eyes?” Bilban didn’t seem frightened at all. The halfling’s mindset was
completely alien to Addanil. Where did a creature so small get so much bravado from?

You only had one tankard of ale yet your body felt heavier. You reached across the table to
hold Addanil’s hand. “Ames, I don’t think I hold my liquor very well. I’m already tipsy.” You
giggled.

“I told you so…” Addanil sighed. “Are you alright? Let’s get you to bed.” He offered.

“Only if we get to snuggle.” You smiled shyly and poked your fingers together.

Addanil did think that your request was cute.

“Alright but nothing more. You’re already drunk.” He agreed.

“Yes, Ad-daddy.” You giggled. You nearly slipped up and it was the only thing you could
think to say to correct yourself.

It took everything in him not to face palm. “No more drinks for you… Well this was a
pleasant conversation. We’ll see you in the morning, Bilban.” He starts escorting you out of
the tavern back to the inn. He was silent as he brought you to your room. His face was pale
the entire time under that illusion.

“Really?! First you almost use my real name and then you decide to correct yourself by
calling me daddy!?” He took off his hat once the door was locked. His face was pale and
nearly pure white.

“I’m sorry! I panicked!” You were laughing.

“Alcohol is dangerous to our safety because you clearly can’t handle it! And I’m not your
daddy!” He snapped.

“So does this mean no cuddles?” You looked at him, pouting sadly. He couldn’t believe you
were serious about that. He sighed.

“Get changed into your night clothes…” Addanil’s command sounded defeated. He started
changing into a chemise to go to sleep in. It’s not as if your inhibitions and common sense
were all there right now. He couldn’t truly be angry with you.

You weren’t so drunk that you couldn’t get changed, but the task did feel a bit more difficult.
Your night clothes were light and airy. Their purchase brought your total gold down to 15
pieces. He tried not to let every purchase make you feel like a drain on his finances, but he’d
never had so little money in his life. If this treasure hunt didn’t work out, he’d need to find
some goods to move and that sounded like drudgery. He worked hard to get into where he
was in his creed and now it all seemed flushed down the waste tunnels.

He was pulled from his pessimistic thoughts when you climbed into bed and stretched your
arms out for him to join you. Addanil climbed into bed, draping the blanket over you. He
held you close, having far more on his mind. “I realized that you’re right about something. I
never bothered to learn anything about you beyond what I perceived passively.” He admitted
to you. “Could you tell me about yourself? Tell me your lore.”

You were pleasantly surprised and you rested your head against his chest. “I was born in
Tethyr. My home city was Riatavin. My father was descended from a troupe of bards and my
mother did just about any odd job she could get her hands on until she somehow ended up
inheriting some land in a bet. We became a minor noble family. We were well off enough like
we were back in Oryndoll. Not blindingly wealthy or anything. Just enough to enjoy some of
the finer things. I remember now that I had siblings." You started.

"It's not uncommon for memories of family and friends to become erased or changed entirely
during the enthralling process. It reduces the likelihood of rebellion." Addanil said. You
frowned when he said that.

"That's sad because they were nice people. I'll probably never see them again. I don't really
deserve to though." You lamented.

"Why would you say such a critical thing about yourself?" Addanil asked, stroking your
cheek with a tentacle.

"It has to do with how I ended up in Oryndoll…" You muttered. "My town has an
organization dedicated to psionics so when Yorix came to me in my dreams as a handsome
and wealthy man, I thought nothing of it when we began exchanging letters. His handwriting
and prose were beautiful. He liked my paintings."

"As anyone with good taste should." Addanil agreed. You smiled just a bit at the
compliment.

"He wanted to marry me. He asked me to meet him in Assam. It was a trap. The guards of my
carriage were no match for the raiding party. People died because of my stupidity and I
became Yorix's conquest." Recounting the memory was painful to you, but you refused to
cry. He never once thought about how surface thralls felt. After all, they were just livestock,
right?

"You are not stupid for falling prey to Yorix's manipulation. I probably shouldn't be happy
about it, but if it never happened, I would never have met you." He assured you that you did
nothing wrong. "You're a far braver person than me. I would have left his brain to rot in the
dank cavern he died in." He lovingly ran his fingers through your hair. "You impressed me the
moment I grew aware of your existence. I drained nearly the entirety of my vault in the
bidding to purchase you." He informed you. The bidding was indeed quite fierce.
"Well we know how that investment turned out…" You softly chuckled.

"It was worth every copper. Tell me about your siblings." He wanted to know more about
you.

"I'm the middle child. I have two sisters. My eldest sister, Arveene, became a glassblower and
my younger sister, Jhessail… Well she's the black sheep of my family. We don't talk about
her. She fell in with the city's criminals." You recounted.

"If we were to find a way to contact your family, would you want to?" He proposed a
hypothetical question. You thought about it as intensely as you could in your tipsy state.

"I'd at least want them to know I'm alive, even if I never saw them again. Gods above. Could
you imagine me introducing you to my family?" You giggled.

"Greetings mother and father! This is Ames Brightglade who is absolutely a normal human
merchant and nothing more!" Addanil joked. "Your father is a bard. He probably wouldn't be
hostile at the mere sight of me." He seemed to tease at the idea of meeting your family. You
laughed quietly.

"You're likely not far off the mark. My poor mother would probably faint." You smiled. Your
mind was beginning to drift off to sleep.

Most illithids thought that the entire universe was theirs to bring to heel and that the thralls
who resisted them simply didn't know any better. You were different. Despite no longer
owning you, you willingly traveled with him. Despite your occasional defiance, you were
willing to work with him as if you were an advisor to him. You still loved him despite
everything.

"We can put contacting your family among our goals. Perhaps as your magic improves, we
can figure something out. We're quite a ways away from Tethyr. I don't see us going in that
direction anytime soon." Addanil offered. He knew that familial bonds were important to
many races, even if he had none of his own. You were far from unworthy of your family's or
anyone's love. He wanted you to know that.

"Thank you." You mumbled. He gently brought your head to your pillow and tucked you in
comfortably.

"Rest well, love. You'll need your energy for tomorrow."

Addanil wasn't tired enough to sleep yet. After you had fallen asleep, he decided to try
scrying on Trezzir to see what that annoying debt collector was up to. He was able to get a
clear image of the illithid… Having sexual relations with his thrall. "Augh!" His disgusted
reaction woke you up. He was horrified yet he couldn't look away!

"What?? What's wrong?" You struggled to lift your head.

"Sorry I just- I'm scrying on Trezzir and- He's doing that experiment on his thrall!" He finally
stops scrying.

"What experiment?" You didn't catch on in your sleepy state. Addanil makes a loop with a
tentacle and pushes another tentacle through it to gesture that he meant intercourse. You
chuckled.

“Sounds like a good anti-scrying measure. I had a feeling they'd end up together. Good for
them." You pulled the blanket back up and laid down.

"Why were they using rope? What is the purpose of restraining his thrall?" Addanil asked.
You tiredly pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Some people just like being tied up." You answered.

"I see… Do you like being tied up?" He asked. You laughed at his question.

"I don't know. I've never done it before. I heard it's popular with drow as an erotic art form
called orbbcress. The common term is webbing." You replied with a yawn on that little trivia
bit.

"They're quite literally fucking around instead of securing their spice shipment. Well that's
two merchants that won't be coming back to Oryndoll. I caught him practicing magic yet he's
worried about my affairs. The audacity!" He ranted.

"I'm begging you to let me sleep…" You groaned.

"I apologize for waking you." Addanil settled into bed. He missed his moss dearly. This dry
bedding would end up being hell on his skin sooner or later. "I need to buy some lotion or
some sort of moisturizer…" He thought to himself.
 Caught in the Crossfire
Chapter Summary

Vizaness gets in a gangbang with her thralls.

Oceana would become Vizaness’ first ever platinum thrall. She would be the latest addition to
The Breeding Pen’s thralls and her rarity alone was enough to bring her wealthier clientele.
Someone like Erux wouldn’t be able to afford her. Oceana is a water genasi born from the
human stock that A Breeder Named Slisskbax gave to Vizaness as an inheritance upon her
coming of age. Her bright teal skin had iridescent patches of fish-like scales. Her long silvery
hair flowed and swept like a wave. She was dressed in flowing and revealing dresses. She
smelled of sea salt spray on a summer day.

Aside from Kalamash, she was Vizaness’ pride and joy and if things went well during her
initiation, she would either keep her as a new personal thrall or sell her for immense wealth.
She wasn’t sure which she would do yet but she would cross that bridge when she got to it. In
addition to Kalamash, Vizaness selected three male thralls to assist her. Presmer was a young
human man who had turned 18 last month and was eager to lose his virginity. Elzaphir was a
drow male who was Vizaness’ masseuse and deserved a reward for working so hard. Valdren
was an older hobgoblin man of 30. Vizaness selected the hobgoblin for his stamina as he had
sired at least 10% of the hobgoblin population of her menagerie alone.

"Are you excited for today, Oceana?" Vizaness asked. She was gently brushing her thrall's
gorgeously long hair. The prized thrall was wearing nothing but fine golden bangles shaped
like grasping tentacles. Vizaness’ gentle touch and the occasional grazing of her fingertips
against her skin was immaculately relaxing to Oceana. "All your knowledge will finally be put
into practice." She pointed out.

"I'm a little bit nervous but overall, yes." Her smile was gentle as a calm sea.

"That's alright. You know I'll be right there to help you. You're my rarest thrall. I won't let
anything bad happen to you. You took your nararoot, yes?" She was more strict about
breeding than some illithids. She knew who fathered which thrall down to an exact science
because of her careful breeding.
"It tasted rather unpleasant, but yes." Oceana replied.

"That's my good girl. I know you'll make me proud." Her mistress praised her. Oceana felt
herself practically melting from her praise. Vizaness thought her emotional response to be
interesting, to say the least. Her slight nervousness was perfect. It was an excuse for Vizaness
to get up close and personal with the thralls.

"Before we begin, you wanted know to which caste you belonged in, right?" Vizaness asked
her. She and Zusrall didn't actually pay much attention to the caste system of the thralls. They
believed it only represented a thrall's perceived market value. Zusrall's thrall was proof that
one could gain value and it wasn't the end all be all. It was entirely based on factors such as
rarity and how exotic they were, skill set, breeding and sometimes just plain nepotism
compared to the illithid's own standing in the colony. Vizaness knew damn well Whim only
had a platinum collar because Vebeva put it there for no reason other than liking him.

Oceana nodded. "Yes, please." She whispered politely. Vizaness handed Oceana a polished
zurchwood box. She gasped upon opening it. "Platinum!?" The water genasi's jaw dropped.
Vizaness giggled at her reaction.

"Your surprise is adorable but unwarranted. You're my rarest and prettiest thrall. It is
inevitable that you would deserve such high honors." The breeder wanted Oceana to be proud
of her value. The genasi smiled brightly as Vizaness placed the collar on her neck.

"Are you ready? Let's not keep the others waiting." She hooked her leash to Oceana's collar.
Leading her out of the ready room, she brought Oceana into the back room where the male
thralls were waiting. Presmer was nervous. Kalamash had done his best to talk him through it
but Valdran thought it funny to tease him.

"A platinum thrall, mistress?" Elzaphir asked. "That's awfully generous of you." The drow
smirked. He, Kalamash and Valdran all had gold collars while Presmer had an iron collar.
Presmer was in awe. Was he really good enough for this?

"Well of course my top performers deserve a special treat… and perhaps Presmer needs some
motivation." She looked at the shy human directly. Presmer began to blush.

“How are we doing this? Are we lining up or is it a free for all?” Valdran asked. “I’m good
with letting the newbie go first!”

“What a fantastic idea. Come, Presmer. We won’t bite you.” Vizaness beckoned him closer
with a come hither motion. Presmer approached Oceana, finding it hard to make eye contact
with her. “Since this is your first time, I’ll help you out a little, Oceana.” She slides her
tentacle across the water genasi’s palm and she instinctively grabbed it. “Ooh, you catch on
fast…” She started breathing a little heavier as she began getting her thrall’s hand slick and
slimy with her tentacle.

“Pull off your loin cloth.” His mistress commanded. Presmer obeyed without hesitation when
Vizaness made Oceana get on her knees. The water genasi started sliding her lubricated hand
over the human’s shaft. Even though it was just someone else’s hand, it felt far better than his
own! “Well done, Oceana.” Vizaness patted her head with a tentacle. She started to smile at
the attention she was getting. Presmer was whimpering softly at the touch of a platinum
thrall. Vizaness cupped his chin with another tentacle. The anxiety of performing for a
platinum thrall combined with his mistress touching him made him ejaculate in only a
minute. Valdran’s earlier teasing apparently got to him as his seed spilled onto Oceana’s
chest.

“I-I’m sorry…” Presmer looked ashamed.

“Hah! Classic rookie mistake! You got too psyched out!” Valdran teased.

“That can happen to anyone. It’s happened to me a couple of times.” Kalamash tried to help
Presmer feel better. The sight of the human’s spunk on her platinum thrall was admittedly
very appealing.

“Oh, like you’ve never had any blunders, Valdran. It’s alright, Presmer. Perhaps you just
need a little extra training. Everyone has off days.” She kneeled behind Oceana and began
rubbing the cum in with her tentacles. She couldn't help herself. They were her thralls
anyway. She could touch them as she pleased. Vizaness probed into Oceana’s thoughts as she
did this. If she had that kind of effect on Presmer with just a hand, she wondered what kind of
results she would get with this.

Oceana’s body warmed up at her touch. “Mistress…” She moaned softly. She boldly pulled
one of her mistress’ tentacles between her legs.

“Oh my… But you’re already soaked down here!” Vizaness’ face was slowly turning pale.

“Oh, I hadn’t noticed.” Oceana gave a knowing smirk to the other thralls. The sight of his
mistress’ tentacles in action had always turned Kalamash on immensely, even when she was
using them on other thralls.

“You naughty girl! I’m half tempted to break you in with Kalamash you little vixen!”
Vizaness teased her.
“Woah! You get entertainment like this for free, Kalamash? You lucky son of a bitch…” The
hobgoblin said.

“Hey! My mother was not a bitch!” Kalamash disagreed!

“He’s just talking shit as a joke.” Presmer explained. “He’s not actually saying anything bad
about your mom.”

“I don’t get it but it doesn’t sound very nice.” Kalamash said. Elzaphir whispered to Valdran.

“You have to remember that Mistress’ favorite is the stupid one.” The drow quietly
snickered.

“Ah, I’m sorry, friend! I’m sure your mother was a nice lady!” Valdran apologized, easily
convincing the half-orc to forgive him.

“Valdran, behave yourself or I’ll put you in the chastity cage again.” Vizaness threatened
playfully. Despite her tone it wasn’t a joke.

“Oh uh! Sorry, mistress!” Valdran laughed nervously. “That won’t be necessary!” Picking on
Kalamash was always a dangerous game for thralls. Elzaphir rolled his eyes at Valdran and
approached his mistress and Oceana. Kalamash watched, slowly stroking himself. He was
often nervous about hurting someone when they were new to this. Valdran was working
himself back up as well.

The drow kissed Oceana tenderly and trailed his lips down to her breasts. He “accidentally”
licked the tentacle cupping the water genasi’s breast. Vizaness let out a soft purr of approval.
“My apologies mistress but I must say you taste phenomenal. May I continue?” Elzaphir’s
curiosity was sated and he wanted more.

“Alright but only a little bit…” Vizaness blushed. “And don’t bite.” She didn’t expect the
thralls to favor her instead. This was supposed to be Oceana's initiation. Yet she wondered
who was initiating who at this point! Elzaphir licked her tentacle more eagerly to get more
soft moans and purrs in response. Presmer was growing once again aroused by the cute
sounds his mistress was making. However, this was Oceana’s initiation and he couldn’t leave
her hanging.

“Could you please spread her legs for me, Mistress?” Elzaphir requested.

“I have a better idea in mind.” She assured her thrall. Vizaness lifted Oceana up with
levitation and easily pulled her to the bed.

“Mistress, your power is so exciting!” Oceana flattered her. She loved being posed so
effortlessly by her mistress. She wanted nothing more than to please her. Vizaness pulled
Oceana into bending over on the bed with her leash.

“Come and get it!” She playfully smacked her eager thrall on the rear, eliciting a soft gasp
from the genasi. She then brought herself in front of Oceana. Elzaphir gently took Vizaness’
tentacle into his mouth, sucking on it sweetly. He slowly started pushing himself into Oceana,
using his free hand to control how deeply he entered her. Oceana whimpered as she was
carefully being initiated. She was well aware that her pleasure also belonged to her mistress.
She grabbed Vizaness’ thigh. The illithid started breathing heavier once again.

Once Oceana gained more confidence, she started backing up against the drow’s cock. Her
soaked pussy easily took him deeply. Vizaness started moaning. She couldn’t pull herself
away from her thrall and yet the other thralls seemed to enjoy it as well. “Mistress, can I try
again, please?” Presmer shyly asked. Vizaness was glad to see Presmer was up to try again
and beckoned him over. She brought him to his knees in front of Oceana.

“Just relax.” She told him. She loosely wrapped a tentacle around his cock and encouraged
him to put it in Oceana’s mouth.

Oceana eagerly sucked and licked both the combination of Presmer’s cock and her mistress’
tentacle. “Mmngh… Y-yes…” She moaned in a gooey voice. Kalamash shyly approached
and Vizaness grabbed his cock with her tentacle out of habit. He wouldn’t complain about his
mistress’ attention in the slightest and softly thanked her. She realized poor Valdran was
feeling left out! She bends over, bringing her thighs together for him. “There’s room for one
more here.” She winked at him. Valdran came up behind her. He’d honestly never thought of
using his mistress like this before but she was offering! He begins trying to rub himself
against her. It was perfectly smooth but warm and slippery. He eagerly grabbed her hips and
began to thrust his cock between her legs. “Geez, Kalamash… You sure are a lucky man…”
He mumbled.

Presmer was a whimpering mess and Vizaness took a moment to feel his sensations. He left
her completely overstimulated.

“Oh yes!” Her eyes rolled back as she made a slimy mess of everyone else.

“C-cumming…” Kalamash muttered a warning. Kalamash brought his cock close to her face,
compelled by a mental desire for it. Vizaness switched to his thoughts. She wanted to feel
every bit of it. She closed her eyes, moaning out loud as Kalamash’s cum splattered onto her
face. It’s warmth felt heavenly to her.

“Good boy!” She praised him. “Good boy…!” She became a whimpering, shaking mess as
she returned to Presmer’s thoughts. She couldn’t think. She could barely form coherent
sentences from it all.
Oceana pulled Presmer’s cock out of her mouth and Vizaness stroked it in her place. She
could barely think as Valdran’s thrusts between her thighs shook her body. “Do you want
Elzaphir’s cum too?” Oceana asked in a panting voice.

“Yes! Yes! Give it to me!” She begged.

Elzaphir pulled himself out of Oceana and Vizaness wrapped her tentacle around his waist to
pull him closer. She wanted to do something really depraved. She made him cum in her open
mouth, swallowing every bit that managed to land in it.

“If you were thirsty, I could have gotten you some water.” Elzaphir joked. Presmer came
again in a weaker burst on his mistress’ tentacle and she finally released him. Vizaness
couldn’t even bring herself to pull away from Valdran as he firmly held her hips. She felt the
warmth of his semen within a couple of minutes, flooding between her legs. “V-val…” She
muttered. He slowed himself. “You alright down there, Mistress?” He asked.

Vizaness giggled as she caught her breath. She pulled away from him and laid down on her
back. “Never better… Now clean me up.” No one was sure who she was issuing that
command to, so they all scrambled for towels, soap and water. Kalamash hugged her as
Oceana gently wiped her face clean. Presmer was cleaning her chest and Elzaphir washed her
tentacles. “I think you all need bathing too.” She noticed. It was almost too intense, but
everyone’s care for her made her tentacles curl in contentment.

“You passed your initiation and exceeded my expectations spectacularly. You have earned
that collar. Wear it proudly.” Vizaness tells Oceana.

“Thank you, Mistress. I shall cherish this forever.” Oceana smiled at her.

Vizaness knew for sure she’d be keeping this platinum thrall. She just had to make
preparations to bring her into her domicile…
 Mom, Dad, This is My Boyfriend
Chapter Summary

Raphraxus meets his in laws.

Syllan and his party were fussing over Raphraxus’ disguise. “His tentacles are so long. I hope
this covers them.” Zarrim muttered.

“It wasn’t easy to find clothing in his size. It’s hard to find clothes for giants.” Phoebe said.
“How tall are you?” She asked the ulitharid.

“9 ft. tall. Right on the dot.” They responded.

“Hey, Phoebe, at least he can reach books from the top shelf.” Syllan joked. By the time they
were done, Raphraxus looked like a tall man in a wide brimmed dark hat, who’s features
were obscured.

“I can still do my Seeming idea…” Zarimm offered.

“I’ll bite you. Don’t test me.” Raphraxus threatened at the thought of looking like a
massively busty goliath woman.

“It would probably be an improvement if we could get you to stop smelling like ghaik.”
Yar’rel mused. Syllan was snickering.

“By the way, you owe us 300 gold. That’s how much it cost us to unthrall your thrall, ghaik.”
Yar’rel pointed out, explaining the dwarf’s absence.

“Do I look like I’m made of money!?” Raphraxus protested.

“Yar’rel we’re not exactly strapped for coin…” Phoebe pointed out.

“It’s the principal of the matter!” Yar’rel says. “He has to pay for his actions if I’m not
allowed to kill him!”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t think to bring any material wealth… I kind of have to agree with
Yar’rel on this one.” Phoebe looked a little disappointed at Raphraxus.

“What about that Calishite war mask you brought? The one made of gold.” Syllan asked.

“It’s worth over double what she’s asking!” Raphraxus held his bag close.
“So? We’ll just give you back the change.” Zarimm pointed out.

“You’re just going to let your friends rob me!?” He asked Syllan.

“It’s not robbing. It’s apparently a time consuming process to fix what your colony did to
Ormebela. That doesn’t even include helping her get back home or anything.” Syllan
shrugged with an apologetic grimace on his face.

“Oh, fine! Take it!” He pulled the golden mask out of his bag and tossed it to Yar’rel. She
fumbled with it but managed to keep it from clattering to the floor.

"Sorry… So now that we know this works we have to figure out how to deal with my
parents." Syllan apologized to Raphraxus before setting his mind on their next task. "Maybe I
should just be honest with them. They're going to find out anyway." Syllan pondered. He was
nervous about it.

"You don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, Syllan." Raphraxus tried to
comfort the half-elf.

"I do if I want to protect you." Syllan looked at his lover.

"There's always other options. We can think of them together." He assured him.

"You're part of my life, Raphraxus. I love my family but I'm not ditching you for anything! I
want to do this even if it scares me." The sorcerer assured the buff ulitharid.

"He's got us backing you guys up! It'll be fiiine!" Zarimm added.

"Very well. It feels strange leaving my fate in the hands of others but Syllan knows his parents
better than I do. I trust him." Raphraxus feared rejection as much as Syllan did, but he
couldn't admit it.

The party decided to wait out several hours in the safety of the private sanctum spell. Phoebe
said she would cast it again once they went to Syllan's home in Cedarspoke within the
Gulthmere Forest. Syllan held Raphraxus' hand as he spoke the verbal component of
Teleport. The group ended up in front of a two story cottage with hedges in the front yard.

Syllan took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He knew he couldn't dally. It had been a
couple of months since he last visited. The door opened to reveal a pleasant wood elf woman
with tawny brown hair. "Syllan!" She hugged him. "Welcome home!"
"Hello, mother." Syllan said softly.

"Greetings Valora! Did you do something with your hair? You look nice." Zarimm tried to
flatter her to lighten the mood. She gave everyone in the party a light hug except for the
incredibly tall stranger.

"Oh, did you make a new friend? Who's this?" He asked.

"That's what we need to talk to you about. May we come in?" Phoebe opened up.

"Yes. Come inside!" Syllan's mother was confused. Were they in some sort of trouble?
Phoebe immediately began setting up another Private Sanctum.

"What have you crazy kids gotten up to this time?" A stern looking elf asked. He had long
blonde hair and wore regal emerald green silk robes. A youthful Chondathan human woman
wearing round glasses and Forest green hair was with him. She wore an earthy toned dress
with a leather messenger bag over her shoulder.

"Oh goodie! Great Grandfather Ardocronth and Great Nan Bathilde are here!" Syllan smiled
nervously.

"Don't be rude, boy! Give your ancestors a hug!" The elf scolded Syllan.

"Aw, it's a start, dear. He didn't speak a word when we met him last decade." Bathilde gave
Syllan a hug.

"Uh. So this is the origin of my scales…" Syllan awkwardly hugged the elf, who was actually
a 700 year old green dragon.

"That's a dragon!?" Raphraxus asked Syllan privately.

"Yes. Just be respectful." He mentally responded.

"So why is the wizard casting Private Sanctum?" The dragon in elven form asked.

“S-Sorry. I’m about to get to that. Mom, where’s dad?” Syllan asked. A blond human man
with a basketful of turnips walks in.

“Honey! You should see the size of these turnips! Oh, hello Syllan! Glad to see you and your
friends are doing well!” His father, Ordan Veg, greeted the group. Syllan’s heart was
practically pounding out of his chest.
“I… I have something to tell you and I…” Syllan started.

“Come on, Syllan. You can do this.” Raphraxus encouraged.

“You all have to promise not to get mad, scream, sling spells or breathe poisonous chlorine
gas.” Syllan wanted their word on it before he would say anything else.

“That’s oddly specific.” Ardocronth joked, knowing damn well why Syllan said that. “But
you have my word.”

“Syllan, what is this about?” His mother asked.

“You have to promise first!” Syllan demanded.

“Alright. You’re scaring me, but we promise.” She held her husband’s hand.

“This is Raphraxus.” He holds the aberration’s gloved hand. “He’s my boyfriend…” He

blushed.

“That’s great son, but why would that make us upset?” His father asked Syllan.

“Oh boy, here we go…” Phoebe muttered as the Private Sanctum activated.

“He’s not exactly humanoid…” Syllan looked up at him and nodded.

“Be not afraid.” Raphraxus slowly removed his disguise.

“With all due respect, this is the scariest moment of my life.” Ordan said.

“Oh, Ordan! I knew we shouldn’t have let him go adventuring! Now he’s a thrall!” Valora
cried.

“Tsk’va! Valora, do you think I am weak enough to let your son become a ghaik’s thrall?!”
Yar’rel snapped. “Unfortunately for me, Syllan brought the ghaik to our inn of his own free
will!” The githyanki corrected her companion’s mother. “And Phoebe is far too smart to fall
for ghaik mind tricks.” She added, hyping up her friend.

“Gee. Thank you for your support, Yar’rel.” Raphraxus said in a sarcastic tone.

“Syllan said you had an Amulet of Proof Against Detection and Location. We need it to hide
Raphraxus from his colony. He doesn’t want to be found by them.” Phoebe explained. That
was enough to convince his family that he wasn’t part of a colony.

“Yes, I still have it.” Valora didn’t need it anymore. If it would keep her son safe, she’d give
it to them. She left to go find it.
“So… I guess your son’s not having any offspring.” Ardocronth told Ordan, sounding
disappointed. Raphraxus coughed. He could hear Syllan screaming internally.

“What? Like adoption doesn’t count?” Zarimm asked.

“It doesn’t in my case. Bathilde went through a lot to create your bloodline, Syllan! Oh well.
At least we still have your sister…” The green dragon sighed.

“Oh, Ardocronth. You’re so stuck in tradition.” Bathilde giggled. She didn’t mind at all that
Syllan would be less likely to continue her husband’s draconic bloodline.

“I still haven’t laid any eggs yet…” Raphraxus pointed out.

“NO!” Everyone yelled. Raphraxus flinched at everyone’s reaction.

“Sorry. He’s only trying to help.” Syllan apologized for him.

“He’s not helping.” Yar’rel said bluntly. Valora returned with the amulet, giving it to Syllan
because she was frankly too nervous to give it to the very buff ulitharid. Syllan then hands it
to Raphraxus.

“Thank you. This means a lot.” He hugs his mom.

“So uh… How did you two meet?” Syllan’s father asked.

“It’s probably best not to be too honest about that.” Raphraxus privately told Syllan. “While
he had originally been captured by my colony, I have to say he instead captured my
interest…” Raphraxus said. It was technically the truth without mentioning the less pleasant
parts. “We’d been seeing each other for a while after he learned to teleport, actually. He
would use his ring of mind shielding to hide himself from my colony to spend time with me.”
He wrapped his arm around Syllan. “He could barely say a word to me the first time he
teleported straight into my lair.” Raphraxus reminisced.

“He’s been helping me be less shy about talking…” Syllan sheepishly said.

“All at the cost of smelling ghaik everywhere I go.” Yar’rel said. “He tried to tell me it was
some weird perfume he was wearing.” She rolled her eyes.

“Is it bad that I was actually going to ask which perfumery you purchased that scent from?”
Ardocronth muttered. Raphraxus laughed at that.

“Sorry, it’s not for sale.” The ulitharid shrugged.

“Although, if there’s a demand for it, we could make back our money from that cleric visit
and you’d get to keep your mask!” Zarimm said.

“You have terrible ideas. Stop sharing them.” Raphraxus told the bard.

“I fully agree with the ghaik on this.” Yar’rel would leave her party if she had to participate
in such an odd business proposal. Syllan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“As you can see, Raphraxus fits right in.” Phoebe commented to Syllan’s family.

“Raphraxus left his colony behind to be with me. I don’t expect you to attend a wedding or
anything. I just want him to be treated with respect.” Syllan didn’t expect his parents to like
his choices. He had prepared for the worst case scenario. The sorcerer would be stuck for
eight hours with his family if it all went to the nine hells in a handbasket. It was the clearest
his family had ever heard him speak.

“Raphraxus… What are your intentions for our son?” Ordan worked up the courage to ask.

“I intend to see him confident and successful in all he sets out to accomplish. I intend to
protect him from harm and to stand with him against his troubles.” Raphraxus answered
honestly. “Many people assume I am an emotionless monster, but your son makes me love on
such an intensity that no metaphor could ever express it. I’m grateful he gave me that chance
to feel it. Whether you accept me or not, I will cherish him as long as he desires my
companionship.” He expressed his intent of loving him regardless of his parents’ approval.
Yar’rel resisted the urge to say anything.

“He got this from your side of the family, for sure.” Ordan tells his wife. He sat down to
process all of this.

“What are you planning to do next?” Bathilde asked them.

“I’ve already thought of that. We’re going to Baldur’s gate until this all blows over.” Phoebe
explained. “The further we are from Oryndoll, the safer it is for everyone.” She explained.
Raphraxus thought that things would have been easier if he had instead been born as a
dragon. He didn’t have the psionic ability to bring everyone with him via planeshift to
somewhere else and he wouldn’t deprive Syllan of his friends and family. Their journey
wouldn’t be easy, but Raphraxus resolved to do it for him.

“Can we stay the night?” Syllan asked. They had no reason to be afraid of Raphraxus while
there was an actual dragon in their home.
“Your room will always be there for you no matter what.” His mother assured him.
“Although your great grandfather and nan have already claimed the guest room…” She
lamented.

“We can set up our tents in the yard. We’re used to camping out, Mrs. V!” Zarimm actually
loved camping out in nature. “Besides, Cedarspoke is such a beautiful little city, sleeping
outside doesn’t seem all that bad.”

“Finally a breath of fresh air…” Yar’rel sighed.

“Thanks, mom!” Syllan ignored Yar’rel’s comment and led Raphraxus to his room upstairs.
Raphraxus spoke to Yar’rel mentally as they got settled in to attune to the amulet.

“Thank you for not saying anything rude while I was baring my emotions back there. I know
it took a lot of restraint.” Raphraxus expressed his genuine gratefulness.

“Tsk’va… I only tolerate you for him. You know what he has on his side should you ever
harm him.” Yar’rel mentally replied.
 Enrollment
Chapter Summary

Trezzir speaks with the headmaster of his new school and begins to further his path into
the study of the arcane.

“So, have you decided how you’ll proceed with your studies?” Welvyr asked the gifted yet
novice arcanist. “I’m certain you’ll be gifted at whatever you do.” The drow mage
encouraged Trezzir.

“I have indeed.” Trezzir was packing their things away. “I would like to enroll in The School
of Illusion and Phantasm.” Trezzir said.

“A fine choice! Illusion is complex, open-ended and highly flexible as a school of magic.
You’re good at thinking on your feet and embody those qualities quite well. It will be an
excellent way for you to connect with The Weave.” Welvyr agreed.

“I will ensure that your faith in me is well placed.” Trezzir said. Externally he expressed a
cool calmness, but Welvyr’s praise was leaving his heart melting as he held the staff Welvyr
purchased for him. His grip on it was firm and confident.

They had one more night in The Shattered Scepter on the off chance that they were rejected
by his school of choice. Welvyr already did his part of enrolling into his chosen school of
evocation by himself, but the teacher wasn’t ready to leave his student to his own devices yet.
"I'm sure that you're well aware, but the college masters are the most powerful wizards in the
entire city." Welvyr reminds Trezzir.

"I will show the utmost decorum, Welvyr." Trezzir gave his hand a gentle and reassuring
squeeze. They arranged a meeting with Felyndiira T’orgh. The truth is she had been replaced
by Mergos Zauth, a male drow, decades ago.

This particular drow replaced the old master of Illusion back in 1425 DR. At 167 years old,
he had converted to Shar after the War of the Spider Queen.

He was using an illusion to make himself look like Felyndiira T'orgh, the school’s previous
master, when he met with them. It was a little joke that he liked to play on new visitors to the
school. Even though it had been nearly 100 years since T’orgh was replaced, Mergos’ ruse
was the first test of entry. Welvyr had been fooled by it but Trezzir instantly pointed out the
illusion when “she” sat down.
“That is not Felyndiira. It’s an illusion, Welvyr.” He was blunt in revealing this ruse. “Who
are you and why are you pretending to be the master of this school?” Trezzir inquired of the
drow man.

“When our prospective student is an illithid, I suppose it’s no surprise you figured it out so
easily.” Mergos dispelled his illusion. “I am the true master of this school. I’m Mergos Zauth.
Felyndiira… Retired back in 1425. You passed your first test with flying colors. We haven’t
had an illithid enroll with us in nearly 60 years. Trezzir, was it?” The master of illusions
mused.

His true appearance was a gray skinned drow man with short white hair. His red eyes had a
glint of mischief in them and the smug smile of someone who confidently knew they had
great power. The illithid nodded to confirm his identity. "A fine display of the power of
illusion. My companion quite readily believed it." Trezzir complimented. Welvyr blushed,
being embarrassed that he had fallen for such a simple ruse. "Welvyr is an evoker but he has
been assisting me in my early studies." He explains.

"May I inspect your spellbooks? I need to see what we're working with thus far." Mergos
requests. Trezzir and Welvyr briefly looked at each other before placing their spellbooks
upon the master illusionist's desk. He flipped through them thoughtfully. It took everything in
Trezzir not to probe his thoughts. The suspense was killing him.

"Welvyr, your spellbook is certainly consistent with a male drow from Sorcere but it appears
your studies are only half complete." Mergos commented on Welvyr's spellbook first. Welvyr
felt his cheeks burning.

"The uhm… Gap in my education is because I did not get the privilege of graduating."
Welvyr noticed the symbol of Shar on a ring he wore. The seemingly plain black and purple
ringed disc was obvious to him. He was no follower of Lolth. "I'm a homosexual." He
muttered.

"Ah, a victim of Lolth's close mindedness." Mergos nodded in understanding. "Better not get
caught by the evocation master unless you want her to watch." He smirked. Welvyr blushed,
clearing his throat to change the subject.

"I can assure you however, that Trezzir is quite gifted. He will be valuable to your school."
Welvyr praised his illithid companion. "We slew a bone naga on the way to Sshamath even
though it was his first ever application of magic in combat! In fact, he cast the killing spell of
Magic Missile even though he'd only seen me cast it once in the heat of that battle." Welvyr
recounted.
"I was unable to master those spells without his help, of course. His confidence with the
arcane is inspiring." Trezzir wanted to give credit where it was due. With the way Trezzir
spoke of Welvyr, Mergos had little reason to suspect that the drow was a thrall.

"I noticed you don't have a single illusion spell in this book. Where did you acquire it and
what made you decide to choose this school?" The illusionist asked.

"Welvyr made the educated guess that it came from an inexperienced enchanter. I smuggled it
out of Oryndoll with me. What started as mere curiosity became a quest for greater
understanding. I suppose you could say he sold me on this school. We agreed it would suit me
well." Trezzir answered.

"Oryndoll, hm? You must be a merchant. I hope you weren't here to acquire slaves because
we rely on Oryndoll's patronage. They'll stop sending merchants if too many go rogue…"
Mergos would refuse to teach the illithid anything if his stay would have greater
consequences.

"No. I was on a consignment to acquire spices from the surface realms. I'm certain someone
else will pick that up." Trezzir answered. "A couple of missing merchants is an unfortunate
reality of our dangerous missions."

"About Welvyr… He's not your thrall, is he?" Mergos asked. He had to make sure. Trezzir
didn't even get a chance to answer.

"No." Welvyr answered without hesitation. "We have a unique partnership…" He hinted.
Trezzir's face slowly turned pale. Although he knew Welvyr was wearing his ring of false
thoughts, he had answered so confidently, even he was wondering if it was really a lie. "He
asked me to teach him to wield magic and I obliged. He's been a delight to teach." He
smirked to drive the point home.

The idea of treating Welvyr as a fellow pupil had started to grow more and more appealing to
him. His tentacles wriggled as his cheeks burned white. He didn't think anyone's praise could
make him feel this way. "I see… Well the rules of our school's dormitories is that you may
not have visitors from another school so you'll have to 'congregate' elsewhere." Mergos
knowingly smirked. “We have a room available in Z’orr’bauth. Have you scribed any of your
own spells yet?”

“No, but I know I can manage. I’ve observed Welvyr copying Sending into his spellbook.”
Trezzir answered.
“You fell asleep in the middle of it.” Welvyr teasingly poked him.

“What was I supposed to do for six hours?!” Trezzir wriggled a tentacle in embarrassed
indignation at him.

Mergos returned their spellbooks to them. “I’ll retrieve your first homework assignment.” He
opened a small unassuming trinket box on his desk which had an even smaller chest made of
silver and decorated with tiny opals. Holding the tiny chest, he spoke arcane words. “ Arca
Absconditum.” A 3ft by 2ft by 2ft chest, which was a perfect replica of the tiny ornate chest
appeared. Trezzir was surprised and impressed! He’d never seen or heard of a spell like that
before!

“What magic is that? It certainly seems useful against thieves.” He asked either of the drow
men in particular. Welvyr did not know.

“Secret Chest and it most certainly is useful.” He unlocked that chest and began perusing
through his labeled bags of holding on the chest’s tiered shelves.

“How does it work?” Trezzir asked.

“The spell hides the chest and its contents on the Ethereal Plane. The replica chest is used to
call it into the prime and send it back to the Ethereal.” Mergos could sense the illithid’s
interest in learning from his school.

“That’s conjuration, isn’t it?” Trezzir tried to apply the basic knowledge Welvyr had shared.

“That’s right!” Welvyr affirmed with a genuine smile. “He’s been studying for less than a
month and is already applying his knowledge!” He sounded proud of Trezzir. The illithid
knew he was merely borrowing Welvyr’s knowledge. The way they linked when he learned
from the drow was much like having his own personal brain mate on arcane matters. He
didn’t regret selling his brain mate at all. Welvyr was a true advisor and confidant.

He removes two labeled bags of holding but Trezzir could not read the parchment tags as
they appeared in a nonsense script he didn’t comprehend.

“Illusory script! A nice touch.” Welvyr pointed out. Trezzir was impressed by the lengths this
man went to secure his things. Maybe magic wasn’t so abominable after all.

“Even learning the basics of the Art is a long and arduous process. You must have a strong
connection with the weave.” Mergos muses. Or perhaps that connection was through Welvyr.
The illusionist was curious where this illithid’s purported miraculous aptitude came from. He
wanted to test out his little hypothesis.
“Before I give you the assignment, I would like to try to affix some knowledge into your
mind.” Mergos offered.

“I would gladly accept it if you’re opening your mind to me.” Trezzir thought nothing of it
and psionically reached out into his mind. Mergos’ mind was uninitiated to an illithid probing
his thoughts, despite his decades of study. It felt as if the doors to his mind were being pushed
open effortlessly. Mergos was taken aback by it.

“This sensation may be startling to the uninitiated. Focus on what you wish to show me.”
Trezzir tried to refocus his mind. Mergos silently focused on teaching Trezzir how to cast the
cantrip Minor Illusion. With a wave of his hand, Mergos creates the illusion of a goblin
suspended within the fist sized magical clear stones that this city sold its slaves in within the
slave market.

Trezzir understood what was expected of him. He was expected to create an illusion as well.
He knew Mergos was still holding something back from him, and that the illusionist wanted
to see if he could figure it out for himself. With conviction and instant understanding, he
confidently conjured the image of a golden bell, softly ringing with the same pleasant tone
that Welvyr’s illusion had awakened him with. Unlike Welvyr, Trezzir’s unimpeded mind
created both the image and sound. Mergos mentally shut the link between himself and
Trezzir. “How fascinating! You do indeed learn quite quickly.” He smirked.

“I am glad that you are able to perceive my potential.” Trezzir’s tentacles proudly writhed
smugly.

“Of course he does. Anyone would be a fool not to.” Welvyr said confidently. “But you still
have much more to learn.” He added, so as not to overly inflated his companion’s ego. From
one of the bags of holding, Mergos pulled a 4ft long bookcase of scrolls from the bag. Trezzir
blinked in bemusement.

“Ah. Here we are! Your homework assignment. Distort Value.” Mergos handed him the
scroll. “Copy that to your spellbook.” He instructed Trezzir.

“I know that spell’s effects quite well. You’d be surprised how many people are stupid enough
to try and cheat an illithid.” He would never admit that he actually had gotten tricked by that
spell. The reprimanding he got from his creed master still stung to this very day. To actually
wield this spell and inflict the same pain upon others after all these years felt rather bitter to
him. If he had higher standards, he would have refused the spell entirely but free was free. He
took it and tucked it away in his belongings.
From the other bag, Mergos produced a key with a chain that had a wooden placard with the
number ‘116’ written on it. "This is your dormitory key. Move in at your earliest leisure." He
told his new student. "You better ask the divination students to cast Locate Object if you lose
it because replacement keys cost coin." Mergos warned. He began placing everything back in
its proper containers.

"Oh please. I've never misplaced anything in my life." Trezzir rolled his eyes.

“I’ll hold you to it, then.” Mergos said. Only simple minded creatures lost sight of their
things and goals. His goals had simply changed. He never imagined he could defeat a
powerful undead like a bone naga before. Going back to Oryndoll no longer seemed an
option to Trezzir. He had growing ambitions separate from The Encephalithid. Lugging
around spices for the enjoyment of thralls and their masters was drudgery. He never saw the
appeal. Most of them didn’t know how to use them properly anyway.

“This certainly was an interesting meeting. We’ll see if you can live up to that potential.”
Mergos bid them farewell.

“I still have a room at the Shattered Scepter. Would it be acceptable to report to my dormitory
tomorrow? I have a couple loose ends to tie up.” He wanted to spend time with Welvyr
before parting from him. He did say he would be there to guide him through his first spell
copying, after all.

“I did say at your earliest leisure. I’m your headmaster, but I’m not your elder brain. I trust
you’ll figure out what you need to do.” Mergos assured him. “Your syllabus will be in your
room. Please be sure to read it.”

“Very well. Thank you for your acceptance. I look forward to learning from your school.”
Trezzir gave a slight bow to the master illusionist.

“And we’ll be looking forward to aiding you in your studies.” Mergos bid them farewell. He
would personally be looking forward to it.
 Endurance Training
Chapter Summary

Vizaness trains Presmer on the art of lasting longer.

Presmer was to report for “extra training” today. He’d wondered if he’d done a bad job his
first time. He knew if he couldn’t do a good job as a breeding thrall, he might end up in one
of those auctions. Or worse, he might become entertainment at The Succulent Encephelon.
Vizaness, however, never ate her own stock. Her go to meal was goblins from Erux’s farm
and the occasional human from Tallexa’s small farm but her favorite treat was derro brains.

If he was lucky, he’d be sold to Erux as a farm hand. Vizaness had more sway, having made it
to the top 30% of breeders with the appraisal of Oceana. If she could breed Oceana
successfully, she might climb even higher. Presmer was getting himself ready, making
himself look cleaned up. “Are you nervous about training?” Valdran asked.

“Come on, Valdran, give me a break…” Presmer groaned.

“Ah, don’t worry about it so much!” Valdran gave him a hearty pat on the back. “Look, I
know I give you a hard time sometimes, but it’s only ‘cause I’m trying to toughen you up!”
Valdran confided. “It’s just training. If you can’t trust her to teach you, then you’re really in
trouble.” The hobgoblin smirked. “You've got this.”

Presmer nodded, keeping a neutral expression. He then patiently waited for his mistress to
come collect him from his menagerie. The menagerie thralls had little privacy outside of
hygiene and sleeping quarters. They were kept on display in large cages for the amusement of
other illithids until they were sold for various purposes. Vizaness’ menagerie mostly served
as performance meals, personal thralls/drow masseuses, gladiators and of course breeding
stock. They were used to illithids observing their daily lives. The men and women were kept
in separate housing. They had comfortable furniture consisting of cushions, moss rugs,
bioluminescent fungi and mirrors. Each large cage had a sign in qualith in front of it that read
“DO NOT TEASE THE THRALLS.”

Vizaness retrieved Presmer from the menagerie. “How’s my newly initiated breeding thrall?”
She asked sweetly, ruffling his dark hair. Presmer blushed at her affection.
“I’m fine, Mistress.” He muttered softly. He remembers the advice Valdran gave him. He had
to trust her. “I’ll do my best for you.” He forced a small smile onto his face.

“How cute. I’m sure you will.” She teasingly ran a tentacle over the back of his neck.
Presmer gasped softly from her touch. She led him down some stairs inside a circular chasm
that leads down into The Breeding Pen. She had his leash, levitating beside him.

She took her thrall to one of the backrooms of the festhall. He'd never been here before. On
his way in, he looked at the masterfully done carvings of humanoids in sexual poses on the
walls, made to appeal to the humanoid gaze. He knew what kind of training he was in for. He
couldn't stop thinking about her tentacles on him. Oceana was quite attractive but the sight of
his mistress’ tentacles rubbing his semen into the water genasi’s breasts completely ruined his
ability to think for hours.

“Oh my, I didn’t think I had such a strong impact on you.” She teased once they were in the
room. There was no one else here. It was just Presmer and her.

“I-I’m sorry, Mistress!” He apologized. Vizaness giggled.

“What are you sorry for? Why are you apologizing?” She teasingly interrogated him.

“I don’t know…” He places his hands on his head as if that would somehow stop her from
getting into his mind.

“You think you’re being bad and naughty, don’t you?” She floated closer to him and removed
his collar. She traced her clawed fingertips across the right side of his neck. Presmer closed
his eyes and gasped softly. “Hehe! You’re so sensitive.” She remarked. “I suppose I should
get to the point before you explode.”

Presmer was unable to say anything. What could he say? His body felt like it was on fire and
he knew his robes weren’t hiding his slowly growing erection at all.

“Think of today’s training as a little lecture. I’m going to teach you how to go longer without
cumming. It’s easy. All you have to do is relax, let me in that anxious little mind of yours and
listen to me.” She explained. “You can do that, right?”

“Yes, Mistress.” He affirmed. “But uhm. Where’s my training partner?” He found it odd that
Kalamash wasn’t here at least.

“Kalamash is busy helping my platinum thrall move into her new quarters. Someone has to
move furniture. You’re so silly! I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out sooner.” She told him.
“F-figure out what?” He asked

She laughed. “No wonder you and Kalamash are friends. You’re almost as oblivious.” She
said. “You’re currently staring at your training partner with lustful intent! Take off those
robes so we can get started.” Her tentacles curled smugly as one of them beckoned him
closer. Presmer removed his robes immediately without a moment’s hesitation.

“Your enthusiasm is adorable.” She lifted him with levitation and grabbed his hand to pull
him to the bed. The weightlessness of his body as she pulled him to her was interesting. It
was actually kind of fun! He often wished he could do that as effortlessly as she does. She
made him lay down comfortably on the moss. “Have you heard of edging?” She asked him.

“No, Mistress. I can’t say that I have.” He wondered what they were going to do as he looked
up at her curiously.

“I’ll touch you like I did last time, but we’ll stop just before you cum. I’ll be in your thoughts
so you don’t have to think about it. All you have to do is relax.” Upon the word ‘relax’ he felt
a tingle in the back of his neck. He opened his mind to her, letting her in. His mind was not as
simple of a place as Kalamash’s but none of the doors were locked. His anxiety was like a
puzzle box which she was easily solving. He willingly gave up the hints to the puzzle as she
ran her fingers through his hair.

“I want to be good enough.” He thought.

“You already are good enough but I can make you perfect.” She whispered temptingly to his
mind.

“Make me perfect, please.” He softly begged.

“Very well.” Without further ado, she wrapped her tentacle around his cock. It quickly
hardens in her slippery grasp. “Mmn… So eager. That’s so much better, isn’t it?” She could
feel how much he wanted her touch. Her fingertips running softly over his chest only further
enhanced his pleasure.

“Uh-huh… Unnh… “ His moans were soft. His body trembled slightly and he started to
sweat. Their breaths combined grew shaky and then she suddenly stopped. “A-augh…!” His
cock throbbed slightly from the absence of her tentacle. Her tentacles began to slowly drip
onto his cock, stomach and chest.

“M-mistress…!” He whimpered, holding onto the fabric of her dark robes.

“Shhh… This is harder for me than it is for you. Relax for me.” She took off her robes and
held him close in the spooning position so he could feel her warm body against him.
“According to our Nourisher Creed researchers, edging can increase the intensity of orgasm
in some thralls. It’s so simple, you can do this training by yourself when you masturbate…”
She started selling him on the benefits of this “training”. She trailed her fingers over his arm
as she spoke to him.

“I’m too shy to do that in front of the others… Even in the sleeping quarters.” He admitted.
He didn’t see how Elzaphir could masturbate and not even bother trying to hide what he’s
doing. The shameless drow even propositioned him, but he was far too embarrassed to go
through with it when Valdran told them to shut up and let him sleep.

“Elzaphir doesn’t let anything stop him from pursuing pleasure, does he?” She commented
on his memories. “You try so hard to be good…” She reached over him with her tentacle,
teasingly touching the tip of her tentacle to the tip of his cock.

“Can I be a little bit naughty? Can I cum on you, please? I know you like that…” He tries
talking dirty to her. Vizaness was impressed by his improving confidence. She found it
adorable.

“I like the way you think. Of course you may.” She affirmed. “When I allow you to. Sit
tight.” She added. She pulled him up and made him sit in her lap. She gave him permission
to enjoy himself. Her tentacles squeezed his thighs and she held him close, stroking her
fingernails down his back.

“This training can help you last longer. You know your mistress just wants to help you. All
you have to do is listen to me.” She wrapped a tentacle around his hand, lubricating his palm.
“Start stroking yourself for me. Nice and slow…” She commanded. He started to obey her.
He was rewarded with a soft moan from his mistress. “Take your time. There’s no rush. When
you rush to please, you ironically hold yourself back.” She advised him. He lifted one of her
tentacles to his mouth with a free hand. He could feel her desire mingling with his. He boldly
took her tentacle into his mouth, sucking on it softly. “Oh yes… Good boy!” Her praise
sounded gooey. She tries to keep her composure.

“I know your mind is slowly emptying of all its thoughts but I want to know more about what
you like. Try focusing on recounting the last time.” She tried to shift his mind to make the
puzzle of his thoughts easier to look at until it could form a full picture. “You can stop to give
yourself a moment if you need to.” She assured him. Immediately the first thing he thought of
was her tentacles all over Oceana. “Mmmn…” She moaned softly before slowly pulling her
tentacle out of Presmer’s mouth. A trail of spit and slime dripped down his chin.

She wrapped her tentacles around him. Two of them held him securely by his waist and chest,
making him lean back a little in her lap. Another tentacle pulled his right hand away from his
cock and wrapped around his wrist. Her final tentacle cupped his chin tenderly and stroked
his warm cheek. He could feel her appreciating the warmth of his skin. He felt the surge of an
oncoming orgasm, beaten back by his mistress grabbing his neck with her tentacle and
flicking his cock with her fingertip.

“Ah!” He yelped at being struck. Even if it wasn’t hard or damaging, the attack on his
sensitive shaft sent a shockwave through him. He felt her jump with him. He knew she felt
that too, yet she remained ever firm in holding him.

“You almost came from just my touch. I don’t know whether to be flattered or to invite
Valdran here to degrade you.” She giggled.

“D-didn’t that hurt you too?” He showed concern for her even as she teased him.

“One never gains without pain, especially when training thralls. I’ve learned to own and
master it.” She seemed unbothered. He found her resolve and ability to keep him on edge
impressive. He felt his body burning for more. He wanted to master himself for her. She
eased her grip on his neck and began teasingly stroking his cock with her fingertips. “Did
you know that most humanoids are right handed?” She gave him that little bit of trivia while
gently gliding her nails over his erect member.

“N-no, Mistress.” He answered, allowing her to distract him.

“Illithids, however, are almost entirely ambidextrous.” She began using both her hands,
lubricating his cock with her slime as she stroked it. She elicited the cutest squeaks out of
him.

“A-am… Ambidex…?” He tried to pronounce the word and he couldn’t even form it. He
didn’t even know what it meant.

“A good effort.” She teased. “Am.Bi.Dex.Trous.” She mentally sounded it out for him. Her
breathing grew heavier as she started to slip deeper into his pleasure, trying not to fall to his
desire to cum. “It means I can use my left and my right hand in equal measure. You can’t
seem to appreciate how difficult this is, speaking to you while playing with you…”

Presmer whimpered and gasped. Every time he neared the edge, she pulled him back.

“Too good! You’re too good!” He was starting to get the hang of this, playing into her
distraction method, letting himself be pulled and released in a constant motion. He stared at
her with wide lusty eyes. “You’re so pretty…” He gave her a smile. His compliment slowly
undid her resolve, making her whimper with him. The squelching sound of her hands
stroking him was audibly apparent.

She felt herself melting with him. “C-cum when you want to. I’m ready!” She encouraged
him. Presmer felt more intense than he ever had before.
“Aah! Oh ff-” Presmer moaned and squeaked softly.

“ Cum for me! ” She demanded. Presmer’s entire being obeyed her command with
obsequious compulsion. His whole body convulsed in his mistress’ tentacled embrace.

“Oh, God-Brain!!” She cried out. She moaned as several ropes of warm human cum
splattered onto her tentacles, chest and stomach. She laid back, turning into a giggling mess
for several moments. Presmer panted heavily from the relief he felt. He smiled, loving the
way she laughed. He found himself lying on the moss. Despite his unsteady legs, he grabbed
a cloth to gently clean her with. She allowed him to clean her, wiping away excess slime and
semen.

“Normally you’d be getting a bath before you returned to your menagerie but I want
everyone to know what a good job you did.” She lightly patted his cheek. “You want them to
know how well you did, don’t you?”

He blushed, giving her a shy smile. “Yes, mistress. Your praise means everything to me.” He
humbly told her. He wanted to end up in the clique that Valdran called “Vizaness’ Golden
Boys”, also often called “Her Golden Boys”.

“I think I have ideas for your career prospects. I think you’ll fit right in at The Breeding Pen.
Perhaps not as a breeding thrall but there are plenty of options for you.” She started putting
her robes back on. Presmer smiled genuinely at her comment.

“Wow! Really!? That would be great!” He was happy to do any job she told him to do. He
was grateful for any opportunity she could give him to serve her.

“Of course.” She booped his nose. “I’d love to stay and cuddle but I have to make sure
Kalamash didn’t break anything while I was gone. I’m sure it’s fine but sometimes Kalamash
has a tendency to try and shove square pegs into round holes, if you catch my drift. You know
how he is.” She signaled her desire to leave now.

“Yes, I get it. Thank you anyway. I liked spending time with you.” He pulled on his robes.
She placed his iron collar around his neck and began leading him back to his menagerie. He
had trouble walking up the stairs. His legs were sore.

“I-I’m coming I’m just-” He tried to explain.

She lifted him once more with her levitation. “Don’t worry. It’s not the first time I’ve had to
carry a thrall up these stairs.” She began walking up the steps while focusing on pulling him
along. “And it certainly won’t be the last.” She teased. Once at his menagerie she deposited
him into it, unhooking his chain. “Rest well, Presmer. You earned it, you cute little newbie.”
She bid him farewell with a pat on the head from her tentacle.
“Y-you too…” He awkwardly waved as she shut the qualith locked door to his menagerie. He
wobbled his way over to a vacant pile of cushions and flopped down into it with a sigh.
Valdran found him and approached him.

“How’d it go?” The hobgoblin asked him. Elzaphir came over too out of curiosity.

“Great. I’m a bit tired but it was… Really nice.” He smirked.

“You smell like her. She must have really liked you!” Elzaphir noted.

“Wait, really?” Valdran leaned in a bit closer to Presmer, sniffing the air. “Well I’ll be
damned. What was your extra training anyway?”

“Uh. It was this thing she called edging? She trained me herself.” Presmer answered.

“Good ol’ endurance training!” Valdran smirked. “You got her all to yourself too!? I guess
that makes you like an honorary Golden Boy!” The hobgoblin mused.

“He can’t officially call himself one of Her Golden Boys until he has one of these.” Elzaphir
reminded him, a smug smile was on the drow’s face as he pointed to his golden collar.

“True. We can’t welcome you to our little club prematurely.” Valdran smirked as he made a
subtle joke about Presmer’s performance.

“I’m sure you’ll earn your golden collar soon enough.” Elzaphir encouraged. Valdran tossed a
blanket onto Presmer, allowing him to take a nap.
 The New Hire
Chapter Summary

Srebral owns the Skull Cup. A miserable illithid in a dead end job inn management job
buys a new employee from Vizaness' menagerie. He gets more than he bargained for
when he signs the sales contract.

Srebral was looking for a new waitress after the last one got “fired”. As fine as they were as
meals, he was tired of replacing cheap auction thralls every 6 months. His business couldn’t
afford the expense of the “employee turnover”. He arranged a meeting with Vizaness to buy
one of her thralls directly. It was more expensive than the auctions, but he’d heard good
things about her thralls being good for hospitality jobs.

“Come on, Maybelle! We're going to be late!” Tarasa, a half-drow woman, told the human.
Maybelle finished brushing her short brown hair kept in a simple and cute bob. Her mistress
had it freshly cut recently. One of the mistress’ female thralls would be going to a new
master. She heard that the work was tough but the hours were good and the thralls that
Srebral owned got to have a couple drinks after work. They even got as much sick leave as
they needed. “Almost done!” Maybelle lightly dusted powered blush upon her cheeks and
moved from the vanity to join Tarasa.

They headed into a private little sales hall with at least a dozen other thrall women. Most of
them were human like Maybelle, with a couple of hobgoblins and Tarasa thrown in. A
vigileater was in the room, quietly observing the sale as well as keeping the thralls in line if
any were to step out of it. Vizaness entered with Srebral. He owned the Skull Cup, so the new
waitress would be serving the “free range thralls” as Vizaness often called them. “I selected
these particular thralls because I thought they would best serve your purposes. These are
thralls with high tenacity, endurance and a real drive for people pleasing.” Vizaness
introduced Srebral to the thralls for sale. “Of course, if none of these fine ladies are to your
liking, you're free to peruse my entire stock.” She said.

“Fine ladies? None of them have gold collars.” Srebral scoffed.

“Just because they haven't been officially appraised, it doesn't mean that they can't gain
value. I've never been wrong in finding the right thrall for a customer!” She's quick to defend
herself. “You're looking for a waitress, yes? I assure you that each and every one of these
ladies are suited to serve.” She told him calmly. She privately thought he was an asshole.

Srebral decided to look over them. His attention was drawn to Maybelle. How could he not
look at her? She had the most ample bosom he'd ever seen on a humanoid and wide hips. Her
smile was welcoming and warm as she shyly made eye contact with him. She was charming
in a rustic sort of way. “Tell me about that one.” He requested of Vizaness. There's a hint of
smugness in her reply.

“I had a feeling you'd be drawn to her. I think I'll let my thralls sell themselves.” She nodded
to the human woman. Maybelle bowed to him.

“A pleasure to meet you! My name is Maybelle. I'm 23 years old. I can do basic mathematics.
I have 5 years of experience as a bathing attendant so I can provide the most attentive service
to your customers.” She happily introduced herself.

“Can you handle crowds?” He asked.

“Certainly! I work one of the busier shifts. I'm willing to pick up new skills!” She said with
enthusiasm.

“Do you like working with others?”

“Sure! My favorite part is teaching newer people the ropes.” Maybelle answers. An employee
that could train others was a big incentive.

“I must add she does a great job. You can't deny she also has certain… Assets which give her
the appearance of a comely tavern wench.” Vizaness added.

Srebral had never thought about his thralls in a sexual manner before, but he couldn't deny
she had an appeal to the humanoid gaze. That damn smile was getting to him and he couldn't
figure out why it appealed to him. He’d never experienced happiness a single day in his life.
“Why should I purchase you?” He asked.

“If you allow me to call you Master, I'll do my very best to help make your tavern the best it
can be! If I can satisfy you, then that's how I know I did my job.” Maybelle smiled warmly.

“This one.” He didn't even bother with the other thralls. He wanted her.

“Fantastic! Just sign here please.” Vizaness handed him a qualith tablet and striator. It was a
contract of sale. Srebral wisely read it over, rubbing his tentacles over the qualith. “I have to
give the thrall back if I no longer want them!? What kind of anti-consumer nonsense is
this?!” He glared at her.

“You will be compensated for the thrall’s current appraised value but for no less than you
purchased her for. I know how you are with your cheap auction thralls, Srebral and frankly I
feel I have to avoid some risk with this contract. Do you have any idea how hard it is to breed
thralls with massive mammaries like that!? She’s simply too unique to end up in your mouth.”
Vizaness explained, clearly valuing thralls far more than he did.

“I do not eat my thralls that often!” Srebral protested. Vizaness squinted her eyes at him and
curled her tentacles in teasing disbelief.

“Do you really believe that statement?” She asked him rhetorically. “My menagerie doesn’t
provide thralls for just anyone. You’re paying for a higher than average quality thrall here.
Surely you can see the value of keeping them alive for more than a few months. If you don’t
like my terms, you’re more than welcome to shop elsewhere. Perhaps one of Erux’s goblins
would be more to your liking in that case.” She subtly insulted his tastes to nudge him into
buying. He looked at Maybelle. She knew he was hesitating to sign the contract.

“I promise to be the best I can be for you!” Maybelle gave him a determined smile. He took
the bait hook, line and sinker.

“Fine! I’ll sign it but only because you were recommended to me.” Srebral signed the
contract with the striator, stating that he has agreed to the contract’s terms. The other thralls
were returned to the menagerie. Maybelle took one last look at her fellow thralls as they
departed and the mindgates were exchanged. She realized it was probably the last time she’d
ever see them. It wasn’t like she had many friends. She usually kept to herself, never really
connecting to other people.

“Come on, Maybelle.” Srebral told her.

“Yes, uh… What is your preferred form of address?” Maybelle wanted to be sure. She’d
never been owned by anyone else before.

“Master, sir? Whatever you prefer. I don’t care.” He’d never had anyone ask him that before.

“Yes, sir!” She approached him. She was confused when he started walking off without her
leash. “Sir? You forgot your complimentary leash!” She followed him anyway. Vizaness had
the leash in her hand.

“Don’t need it.” Srebral said bluntly.

“Very well. If you ever require additional training services. Not just for this thrall, but for any
thrall, I can wholly recommend Zusrall’s services to you, but Maybelle is quite well behaved
and obedient. She shouldn’t give you any trouble.” Vizaness assured Srebral.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He responded and took Maybe with him down into the lower city.
Maybelle never left her menagerie without a leash before. She felt horribly naked without it
as she followed him. Her breasts jiggled with every step down the stairs.

“Sooo, how long have you owned the Skull Cup?” She tries to make small talk with her new
master.

“Five years. The last owner joined the Great Collective.” He said.

“Oh. It’s sad that they died, but good for them that they got to join The Encephalithid.”
Maybelle commented. “And it means you get to own a whole building! That’s impressive!”
Her compliment was enthusiastic and genuine.

“Yay. Lucky me…” She seemed completely oblivious to his sarcasm. Owning The Skull Cup
was something of a dead end job. He barely ever interacted with the guests unless it was to
make someone bothersome disappear. It was an easy job and it was so dull, but at least he
could afford the occasional trip to the Succulent Encephelon. He hadn’t been there in a few
months, having saved up for the more expensive thrall that ended up being Maybelle.

Something was odd about this thrall to him. He’d never met anyone that was so jovial…
They entered The Skull Cup. It was not a good nor cheap inn. The quality was merely fair
and the pricing was moderate. A mediocre business for a mediocre illithid. The chef was a
hobgoblin woman in her early 40s. Srebral tried to offer food to his customers as well, but the
menu was limited. There were exactly three things on the menu. Ripplebark stew with coarse
zurchwood bread, baked potato, and mushroom steaks. In addition to the vigileaters, their
agents and the guests, the bartender was a tall and buff orc woman named Shelura. Her
yellow eyes looked at Maybelle with indifference. There was a thin drow woman. She had
white shoulder length hair, pink eyes, and a mischievous narrow gaze. If her chest were
compared to Maybelle’s, it was readily apparent that Maybelle had mountains while Brilanna
had a barren field.

Srebral took Maybelle to the employee’s cavern of the inn. There were a handful of small
bedrooms for his employee thralls, and a communal wash room. Each room was 8ft by 8ft
with a small closet. Maybelle’s room was completely undecorated save for a moss bed with
basic bedding on it. “I get my own room!?” She asked with the brightest smile.
“Yes… You’ll be able to save up to decorate it later…” Her happiness was unexpected but he
supposed it was a welcome change of pace. Brilanna handed him some clothing and returned
to her job. “Anyway. Here’s your uniform. Put it on. I need to make sure it fits…” He tossed
them to Maybelle and ushered her into her room, gently shutting the door.

The human woman took off her thrall robes. She put on a burgundy colored dress and a
corset. The dress exposed her shoulders and a significant portion of her chest, showing a fair
amount of cleavage. Maybelle looked down at her chest, her breasts squished together in the
confines of the fabric. She exited her room and looked up at her master. “Uhm, is this fitting
correctly? I don’t know if this is the right size.”

“That’s the biggest uniform we have so it’s as good as we’re going to get for now. As long as
you’re not naked, I don’t care.” Srebral rolled his eyes.

“If you say so, sir.” She wasn’t being sarcastic. He could tell that much.

“Shelura will get you settled in. I’m going back to my office. You start now.” Srebral told her.

“Yes, sir!” She gives him a little salute and walks off with that smile on her face.

“What the hells is she smiling about?” He thought to himself, and why was it so strange to
him?

The job seemed simple enough. Her responsibilities included cleaning the rooms, cleaning
and setting the tables, taking orders, bringing food and drink. Maybelle started off taking
orders and bringing customers their drinks. Midway through her shift, her breasts
accidentally knocked over one of the skull cups as she tried to reach over to take a customer’s
plate, spilling Darklake Stout all over the table and a duergar man’s pants! She gasped at her
mistake, quickly picking the cup up. “Oh, I’m so sorry, sir!” She immediately took out a rag
and began cleaning the duergar’s pants. Her breasts were close to his face as she leaned over
the stout man to clean him up.

“I guess I can forgive ye this time, lass…” He blushed through his stern look as she moved to
clean the table. “I’ll go ahead and get you another one, free of charge!” She smiled
apologetically. Maybelle moved to the bar to get another ale.

“Nice job, Thunder Tits!” Brilanna taunted the new hire.

“It’s Maybelle and thanks! I’ll be sure to clean the dishes with that washboard you call a
chest!” Maybelle smiled smugly.
“They are not that flat! You take that back!” Brilanna covered her virtually non-existent
mounds with her hands.

“If your chest were a geographical feature, it would be a level plot of land.” Maybelle
smirked.

“Ooh, savage! My coin’s on the buxom lass!” The duergar could see a cat fight coming from
miles away.

“Ladies! My office. Now!!” Srebral commanded. Maybelle and Brilanna jumped at the voice
in their minds.

“C-coming, Master!” Brilanna stammered. As she walked with Maybelle to the office, she
hissed at the new employee. “This is your fault!” She harshly whispered.

“You started it…” Maybelle mumbled.

“I don’t care who started it! I’ll finish it! Kiss and make up before I send you both to the
menagerie!” Srebral scolded them. Maybelle passionately kissed Brilanna without hesitation.
The drow woman was flabbergasted as this woman’s breasts were pressed against her chest.
She let out a confused little noise as the kiss completely shut her mind down! That was her
first kiss and it was stolen by some random airhead. Her entire body felt warm from
Maybell’s kiss.

“I said make up! Not make out!” Srebral’s face began growing pale. What the hell was
wrong with this thrall!? What the hell was that feeling he felt from Brilanna and why did he
want to feel more?

“But you also said to kiss…” She pulled away from Brilanna, who was breathless.

“Y-you weren’t supposed to actually kiss me!” Brilanna whined.

“I wasn’t?” Maybelle asked.

“No! It’s an expression! I guess that was on me. I didn’t know you take things literally. I want
you two to see me after your shifts.” Srebral’s tentacles writhed in frustration. Well, at least
she was willing and eager to please. “Stop goofing off, and get back to work!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Yes, Master!” The two women went back to work. Brilanna couldn’t even look at Maybelle
for the rest of her shift. Maybelle was a bit anxious. She had just gotten here today and she
was already getting in trouble. She spent the rest of the day wondering if she’d be taken to
Zusrall for a spanking. She heard that naughty thralls were taken to him, though she likely
took those rumors literally at face value. After their shift, the two of them reported back to
Srebral as he commanded. He made them shut and lock the door.

“Alright, what do you two have to say for yourselves?” Srebral asked in his usual grumpy
tone.

“I want to apologize for comparing Brilanna’s chest to things that are flat…” Maybelle
thought starting off with an apology was a good idea.

“Sorry that your new nickname is Thunder Tits.” Brilanna rolled her eyes. Srebral’s eyes
narrowed at Brilanna. Maybelle took it in stride, laughing softly at her new name.

“If I were a gnome, I’d add it to my name.” Maybelle teased.

“I want you to kiss again.” Srebral’s commanded as he forced himself to share that thought.

“Just to clarify, you meant actual-” Maybelle was cut off by her master.

“Yes!”

“Well alright then!” Maybelle once again obeyed, pressing her lips to Brilanna's.

Brilanna glanced at her master with wide eyes. She could feel him in her head. He was
getting much more than a mere taste of her feelings as Brilanna did her best to kiss her
coworker back. Maybelle slowly pulled away after what felt like an eternity to them. “Did
you want me to do more?” She offered.

“More…?” Srebral asked. “Explain.”

“Sometimes I was used to make people at my mistress’ job feel good.” Maybelle explained.
Srebral never felt “good” in his life. Everything was simply enough. He wanted to try feeling
good for once.

“Show me more.” He demanded.

Brilanna wasn't going to let herself be embarrassed by herself. She yanked Maybelle's dress
down, exposing her breasts to her master.

“Oh my…You can touch them if you want to. I don't mind.” She smiled softly. Brilanna
couldn't believe this!

“Does it feel good to touch them?” Srebral asked.

“I like it when I'm touched here.” Maybelle points to her nipples.

“M-master! I've never done this before!” Brilanna felt her hands moving on their own to
remove her clothing. Srebral could feel his drow thrall's insecurity over her chest.

“I don't care about your small breasts, Brilanna…” Srebral mentally undressed the senior
thrall in front of the new hire. Her face felt hot as her clothes fell to the floor.

“I'm sorry I made you feel bad. You're actually really pretty. You have beautiful eyes.”
Maybelle figured out she was still hurt from earlier. “Let me make it up to you?”

“W-well… Fine! But you better do a good job!” Brilanna had little idea of what would
happen but she wanted to save face. Srebral was just as clueless but curious. She found
herself moaning softly as Maybelle teased her nipples with her mouth and hands. Srebral let
out a sound he hadn't before. A purr of pleasure.

“Master, are you alright?” Brilanna asked. He couldn't answer because he didn't know!
Maybelle wasn't at all concerned.

“That means you're making him feel good! We should keep going if he wants us to.” That
damn smile returned to Maybelle's face.

“Keep going.” He insists. Maybelle reached her hand between the drow's legs. She was
absolutely soaked from just that bit of teasing.

“Sit down and get comfy. I'll take care of you and master.” Maybelle softly spoke to her. The
human woman had Brilanna spread her legs in one of the chairs. Maybelle got on her knees.
Sticking her face between her dark legs, she teasingly rubbed and kissed the drow’s inner
thighs. She had quite a bit of experience with this from her fellow thralls. Srebral gasped at
the same time as his drow thrall when the human woman began to lick at her wet sex,
flicking her tongue lightly against her clitoris.

“Ooh…” Brilanna let out a soft blown out breath. She started to squirm a bit in her chair,
leaning into this pleasant feeling.

As this went on, it felt completely alien to Srebral. It was a whole range of emotion he’d
never felt before. Out of curiosity, he switched to observing his new thrall’s thoughts.
Maybelle was starting to get aroused herself but she was a servant first and foremost. She
could always pleasure herself in her room if she needed to.

“Brilanna you need to give Maybelle an actual apology. Switch places!” Srebral
commanded. Brilanna’s face flushed. She was most silent when she lacked confidence.
Maybelle wiped her wet face with her apron.
“It’s alright, sir. I forgave her hours ago.” Maybelle assured him. “I honestly prefer
tentacles…” She said softly. Srebral’s eyes widened from her confession.

“I… I see…” He couldn’t believe what he ended up buying!

He realized he didn’t care for being in Brilanna’s thoughts and he knew why once he was in
Maybelle’s head. The senior employee needed more confidence in exploring these strange
new feelings. Confidence only Maybelle seemed to have. When he wanted a job done right,
he often ended up doing it himself. “Brilanna, if you want to leave, you’re dismissed for the
day.” Srebral allowed the drow to put her clothes back on and leave.

“Goodnight, Master…” Brilanna bid him farewell and quietly left the room.

“If you tell anyone about this, you’re fired!” He threatened. He was ashamed to let anyone
know he had even tried to do this.

He looked to Maybelle when they were alone. “Alright, it seems Vizaness omitted a few
details about you…” He said, rubbing his temples. He knew damn well Vizaness would just
mock him for “not asking the right questions” or something like that.

“Am I not to your liking, sir?” Maybelle asked with a small frown. She wanted very much to
be liked by him. She wanted to be the best thrall she could be for him.

“I don’t hate you! You’re just really different… Take off your clothes and sit on my desk in
front of me.” He tried to push forward. He was overthinking things. He knew he was
overthinking things as the naked human obediently sat herself on his desk.

“It’s alright. You can touch me as much or as little as you want and I won’t tell anyone.” She
smiled at him with that warm reassuring smile. He reached out, grabbing her breasts. They
didn’t even fit in his hands! They were so soft and squishy. He could see himself touching
them just for the tactile sensation.

“Oh, Tentacled Lord. They’re huge!”

Maybelle giggled at his comment. “I get that a lot.” She blushed. “Do you want me to kiss
you too?” She asked.

“You can certainly try.” He allowed her to take one of his tentacles into her hand as she
softly planted kisses on it. He felt himself ease up. He released tension he never knew he was
even holding onto. He purred once more, louder than before. Maybelle was the reason why
he was feeling… Good. He’d never realized how touch starved he was. No one had ever
touched him so kindly in his life.
There was a knock on his office door. He hissed at the disturbance. “What!?” He sounded
annoyed, being pulled out of his new found bliss.

“I guess if you don’t want your money, I’ll just pocket it.” Shelura joked.

“Give me a minute! I’m in a meeting!” He mentally groaned. “Get dressed. Go ahead and
get settled into your room…” He told Maybelle. The human woman quickly pulled on her
clothes.

“If you want to try again, I’m always available whenever you want.” She quietly told him.
She gave him one last kiss on the cheek and he rubbed where her lips had touched. “See you
tomorrow, sir!” She enthusiastically bid him farewell. She opened the door allowing her orc
coworker in.

“See you tomorrow, Maybelle…” Srebral sounded a bit dazed as she left him.
 House Husband
Chapter Summary

Dallimeze does all his wife's chores for the day.

Dallimeze had the day off from work but he wouldn’t be resting today. He awoke from the
sound of a nail clattering into a metal pan. It was Caramyn’s homemade candle clock, which
after burning for a set amount of time, would melt until the nail it contained fell loose and hit
the metal pan beneath it. “Good morning, honey.” Dallimeze gently wrapped his tentacles
around her in a hug. He picked her up so she could blow out the candle.

“Good morning, Dalli!” Caramyn eagerly greeted her husband. Today Dallimeze would be
undergoing a new training they were trying. His wife was remaining heavily resistant to
hiring a new house servant. He wouldn't push the issue while she was pregnant, knowing her
hormones may fluctuate her moods.

At least that was the excuse he would give to anyone who asked. Today he would be doing all
of Caramyn’s chores. Her small size already made certain jobs harder. He didn't want her
climbing ladders or step stools when she grew closer to giving birth. “Before we do anything
else, we have to get you into uniform.” The gnome winked at him after he put her down
gently.

“Uniform?” Dallimeze asked. Caramyn retrieved his collar from his secret nightstand
drawer. She looked at him with a smirk.

“Don't worry. I'll make sure you don't leave the house while wearing it.” She assured him.
Dallimeze knelt down onto the floor so she could put it on him. He couldn't get a word out as
he moved his tentacles out of her way. His breath hitched softly as she clasped and locked it
around his neck. She revealed another surprise. She made him wear nothing but an apron to
complete his uniform. “Now you're ready to be my house husband!” She smiled.

“Thank you. You always remember the most important details.” His cheeks were pale and his
tentacles writhed. It was too early for him to be feeling like this.

“We just woke up! No pleasure until you finish your chores!” She giggled at him.

“So what's first?” His mind was already going blank from her teasing.
“You have to make breakfast! Don't worry. I'll tell you what to do so you don't mess it up.”
She got him on track.

She brought him to the hearth and made him clean out yesterday's zurchwood. The ash stuck
to his tentacles as he cleaned, which he had to wash off. He found the job annoying and
difficult but after he put in the new logs, lit them and waited for the blaze to get hot enough,
he began to cook rothe sausage and eggs. The pathetic illithid had managed to burn his
tentacle in the course of cooking.

“It's alright. I burn myself too sometimes. Let's get that burn treated.” She lovingly assured
him. She got him some crag mushroom lotion to slather onto the minor burn. “The pain lets
us know we're alive. Even if you scream like a drowning little girl.” She teased him.

“I can see why most of your meals are stews.” He admits.

“Don't tell me you're giving up already. Do I have to whip you into shape?” Caramyn had that
wonderfully mischievous glint in her eyes.

“It would certainly be motivating…” Dallimeze chuckled. “I should see about getting you
some new pans for cooking. I’d give you a bigger kitchen if I could…” He commented as he
practically sucked down his breakfast. They already discussed the addition of a new room for
the baby. If he had been lucky enough to be an Ulitharid, he was sure Caramyn would have
the finest things a thrall could have. He envied Whim. He got to serve his mistress in ways
Dallimeze wished he could serve his partner and he got the fine things he felt that Caramyn
deserved. Yet even in their comparably humble home, Caramyn indulged his true desires to
the very best of her abilities and he was grateful.

Then he had to water the moss on his bed and leave Caramyn's bed near the hearth to dry.
That was a far easier job. It was admittedly harder for Caramyn due to her size. At least he
didn't have to wash the bedding today.

“Now you have to clean the Torture Lab. You brought home fresh food for me to season so
we left a huge mess in there.” Caramyn left that mess specifically for him to clean up.

If it were up to him, he'd gladly accept Caramyn's more sadistic tendencies upon his own
flesh. If any lasting marks were discovered, he feared exile from his colony. As a
compromise, he occasionally brought home a live meal for Caramyn to torment to her heart's
delight. He loved to taste the fresh fear and pain she imprinted on the brains of his meals.
Now he was expected to get down on his hands and knees and scrub the floors. The
“leftovers” had already been disposed of, but the rest of Caramyn's “culinary artistry” needed
to be scrubbed from the floors.

“The best way to clean up blood is using cool water. The stains tend to set if you use hot
water. The lye I use to make our cleaning soap might irritate your skin so put on some gloves
to protect your hands.” Caramyn gave him her advice and protective gloves in his size, which
he put on. “Other than that, you can scrub as hard as you need to. These aren't exactly our
nice floors.” She made it sound so simple. Dallimeze noticed her reach for one of their
floggers.

“Oh my. What are we doing with that?” Dallimeze grew excited at the idea of his wife hitting
him if he didn't do a good job.

“Don't worry about what I'm doing. Get cleaning!” She commanded. She whipped the back
of one of his thighs with the flogger, causing him to yelp.

“Yes, honey!”

He immediately got on his hands and knees, scrubbing the floor as thoroughly as he could.
Humanoid blood looked rather ugly to him once it dried. He knew it was messed up beyond
belief, but he would have gladly let her spill his instead, but he foresaw no way that the
circumstances would allow for that to happen. She loved how shiny and “pretty” illithid
blood was. He scrubbed, rinsed and dried the floor in a repetitive cycle until he thought he
was done. It was more work than he gave Caramyn credit for. He was actually starting to
work up a bit of a sweat. He wiped his forehead and moved to stand but jolted when he felt
the sting of the flogger upon his buttocks. “You missed a spot.” Caramyn gave him a
saccharine giggle. He let out a gurgled whine at her teasing.

“Sorry, honey! Could you point it out?” He asked her.

“Right by the leg of the table, sweetie.” She helped him. He cleaned the spot he missed. He
felt another strike upon his backside, letting out a moan.

“What was that one for??” He looked back at her, his face flushed.

“Sorry. I was feeling a little bit cheeky.” She jokes.

“I guess I can't blame you since it's right there. May I have another?” Dallimeze temptingly
wiggled his butt, hoping for another smack. She indulged him once more, making sure not to
overdo it.

“Dalli… You still have chores to do.” She reminded him. “You'll never get it all done on your
knees.”
“Would you blame me if I tried?” He asked, getting a laugh out of Caramyn.

“You'd look awfully silly washing the dishes like that.” She responded.

“Ah, yes. An excellent point.” Dallimeze agreed in good spirits. He finished cleaning the
Torture Lab thoroughly before his wife brought him some water to drink for a job well done.
He practically chugged it down. He had always appreciated everything she did for him, but
doing the work she did for himself made him appreciate it that much more.

Next on the agenda was sweeping and dusting. Dallimeze figured out that he could multitask
by holding the broom in his tentacles and dusting at the same time. He had to use his
tentacles, since the broom was sized for a gnome to use and wasn’t intended to be used by a
5’8’’ aberration. Caramyn looked genuinely impressed! “Ooh, I should have you do this even
after I give birth! You’re so efficient!” She complimented. Dallimeze felt his heart swell at
her compliment.

“Do you mean that?” He asked. The idea that he could serve her like this well after she gave
birth made him happy.

“I won’t say no if you want to help. It’ll be hard to wrangle both my step stool and a kid.”
She agreed.

“I played a part in the creation of our offspring. I should take some responsibility for it too.”
He lovingly patted her head with a tentacle. Even though the resulting child wouldn't be
biologically his, he was eager to help his thrall wife raise them.

“Do you want me to teach you how to make my ripplebark stew?” She asked. Dallimeze
looked at her the same way he had when she first called herself his wife. His mind rapidly
shifted through bewilderment, then contemplation, acceptance then love.

“It would be an honor.” He responded. He eagerly put away the broom, dust pan and feather
duster. Then he helped his wife set up the cauldron just as enthusiastically. Caramyn
instructed him to gather the following items from the larder. Ripplebark, rothe steak, broth,
salt, the last of the garlic cloves until the caravans could deliver more, and potatoes.

“Let me cut the ingredients that need to be diced. I don’t want you to lop off a tentacle by
accident.” Caramyn says.

“You know they grow back, right? It takes a few months but losing them isn’t life altering.”
He assured her.
“Do you really want to explain to your friends at work that you lost a tentacle trying to cook
for your wife?” She wanted to make sure he wouldn’t get made fun of or worse.

“I suppose you’re right… They would never understand. They don’t understand me like you
do.” He allowed Caramyn to get the step stool to cut the rothe, potatoes and garlic cloves and
ripplebark for him.

“This typically takes all day to cook and it’s ready when you get home. Go ahead and put
everything into the pot. After four hours, indicated by the candle clock, you’ll take out a few
cups of the stew, going heavy on the potatoes and puree it. That’s what helps to thicken it up.
Stir it every once in a while.” She instructed.

“It’s so simple yet comforting.” He could truly never tire of it, even though Caramyn ate it
almost every day.

“My bed tends to be dry by now. At this point I take a small nap or I’ll do one of my hobbies
for a bit.” She tells him. “Sometimes I take naps in your chair because it smells like you.”
She shyly admitted.

“You could sleep in my lap while I do my embroidery, if you’d like…” Dallimeze gently
poked his tentacles together.

“I’d like that.” Caramyn smiled, covering her cheeks with her hands. Dallimeze retrieved his
embroidery project and threads. He took off his apron and draped a thick blanket of wool
over his lap. He picked her up, wrapping her in the blanket and securing her comfortably with
his tentacles.

He was working on a partially finished image of a skull with fungi growing out of it. “You
sure do love your skulls.” Caramyn commented as Dallimeze began pulling his thread
through the shape of the mushroom cap.

“Well the mind is everything so it’s only natural we’d be drawn to the one thing that holds it
in place.” He chuckled softly. “I think I’m most drawn to these designs because of the way
you look at them.” He told her. Caramyn hugged one of his tentacles as she listened to the
soft sounds of string being pulled through cloth. Every time he finished one of his
embroidery projects, Caramyn hung it up on one of the walls of their home. He may have
looked completely pathetic, wearing nothing but a collar while doing embroidery, but in this
moment to the gnome in his lap he was everything.

He still had more chores to do. He had to do the laundry, finish the stew and wash the day’s
dishes. For now, however, he found himself mentally basking in her warmth and comfort. He
quietly pulled colored thread through fabric and he would continue for the entirety of her nap.
The pain she gave him only made the love that much sweeter. He was proud to be her house
husband.
 Happy Birthday
Chapter Summary

It's Vebeva's Birthday!

One small problem.
Mind Flayers don't celebrate their birthdays.

Whim always treated his mistress to breakfast in bed. Diatryma eggs made into an omelette.
The plating had a cerebrospinal fluid sauce which read “Happy Birthday!” with a little heart
at the bottom of the exclamation point. She couldn’t actually read common and so she asked
Whim what it said. “It says ‘Happy Birthday.’” He smiled.

“Birthday? Whim, what on Toril is a birthday? Is this some kind of peon joke I’m too grand
to understand?” She was confused looking down at the message. Whim grew rather
embarrassed when he realized illithids didn’t celebrate their birthdays. His smile quickly
dropped as he felt completely stupid and awkward for his attempt. She couldn't understand
why he felt so ashamed.

Natiri peeked in from outside the door. “Told you it was a dumb idea, Whim. No one has ever
celebrated my birthday either so I get why you think it's weird, Mistress.” She tried to
empathize with Vebeva but it only made Whim feel worse.

“My apologies, Mistress. A birthday is the celebration of the anniversary of one's birth,
typically observed with the giving of gifts and special treatment of the individual. I deeply
apologize if my application of humanoid traditions to your life made you uncomfortable. I
merely wished to celebrate the 26th year of your grand existence.” He tried to explain. His
eyes were shamefully cast down.

Vebeva gently cupped his chin with a tentacle, making him look at her. It wasn't her intention
at all to crush his enthusiasm for her. “While I do not understand the humanoid obsession
with the passage of time and anniversaries, I will allow you to celebrate this ‘birthday’ as
you call it.” She found this situation to be strange but if Whim wanted to spoil her, who was
she to say no? She trusted him not to give her an unpleasant surprise.

“Natiri, Don't tell Whim his ideas are intellectually inferior. It hurts his feelings.” Vebeva
scolded her tiefling thrall.

“S-sorry, Mistress.” She apologized. Vebeva actually found it rather adorable that Whim had
placed so much importance on even the most insignificant details about her. He was like a
puppy in the way he admired her.

The ulitharid ate her breakfast, savoring the sauce he had used to write on the eggs which had
the tang of a male drow's servitude that accompanied the warm texture of the cooked food in
an interesting combination of comfort food and psionic satience. “Even when I can't taste the
food you cook, you find a way to make it a pleasurable experience. If you ran a tavern, it
would be excellent and expensive.” Vebeva complimented her favorite thrall.

“Oh, such high praise!” He was genuinely happy to hear that. “I do have quite the treat for
you at dinner. We recently captured a derro that believes he is nobility. I have convinced him
that he will be an honored guest in your home. While he will indeed get a very fine last meal,
I think you'll find his sense of self importance to be quite delicious.” Whim smiled slyly.

“That does sound delightful.” Vebeva remarked. She allowed Whim to clean her face and
take away the dishes. She then got out of bed and changed into her day robes. She then went
to her lab for the day. She had her work of directing the projects of the illithids under her, and
presenting new ideas to the creed master for approval or rejection. Of course she made sure to
remind Ellimol that he “better have her delivery”. She didn't even care all that much about
the product. She just wanted to extort him for the fun of it. Although it would occasionally be
very fun to use on Whim, the Nourisher Creed was also offering her a discount at The
Breeding Pen if she could recreate it herself. She then went through her correspondences.

Speaking of breeding, she threw yet another breeding request for Whim into a collection of
qualith tablets pathetically begging for much of the same, although one such tablet stood out
to her. Vizaness now had a platinum thrall of her own, did she?

“That's interesting. I’ll have to ask Whim about that one later.” She thinks to herself. Vebeva
wanted to talk to Caramyn. Maybe she knew more about this strange birthday topic than she
did.

“Caramyn, I have a somewhat silly question. Are you busy?” Vebeva opened up with.
Caramyn was sitting in her chair eating the dinner that her husband had cooked.

“I’m just eating dinner! The usual. I can talk.” The gnome responded. She gently let
Dallimeze know Vebeva was talking to her.

“May I try it?” Vebeva was curious since Dallimeze raved about it.

“By all means, go ahead!” Caramyn encouraged. Vebeva taste linked with her and didn’t like
it at all.
“UGH! It tastes like peon food!! No wonder your husband likes it so much!” Vebeva quietly
gagged. Dallimeze, who had been listening, grew incensed.

“IT’S NOT PEON FOOD! IT’S COMFORT FOOD!!” Dallimeze yelled into Caramyn’s
mind so Vebeva would hear it. Vebeva laughed which only made Dallimeze angrier. He was
practically turning pale in the face.

“Oh, it seems I struck the nerves of a nosy pathetic peon.” Vebeva remarked. Caramyn was
comparably calmer.

“He gets really mad when anyone doesn’t like my cooking. It’s not as good today because we
didn’t have as much garlic as I would have liked.” She explained.

“Ah, yes the spice shortage. If you ask me, I don’t think that Trezzir is coming back… Let’s
just say we’ll deal with his insubordination if he ever leaves the safety of that city’s caverns.”
Vebeva reveals. Caramyn gasped.

“He went rogue??” The gnome asked in disbelief.

“You didn’t hear that from me!” Vebeva said innocently. “We do have other spice shipments
on the way and I have plenty of garlic to spare. I can have some sent to you free of charge…
If Dallimeze admits he likes to eat peon food!” She teased him. She knew he was still
listening. At this point he was visibly shaking. He wanted his wife to have the best. His pride
came last no matter how much it hurt.

“I… like to eat… Peon food.” He forced himself to say, following it up with several
expletives directed at no one in particular. Vebeva laughed out loud in her lab. This was the
best birthday ever so far!

Caramyn figured she didn’t contact her just to make Dallimeze angry. The illithid had
wrapped his tentacles around a moss stuffed pillow, biting into it while screeching. “What
was your question?” She asked her ulitharid friend, ignoring her husband’s tantrum in order
to remain cordial. She wasn’t offended that Vebeva had far different tastes.

“Oh, yes… My question. Do you ever observe birthdays in your home? Whim is attempting to
celebrate this seemingly insignificant event and I’m trying to understand it.” Vebeva asked.

“Dalli remembers my birthday because he knows what happens when he doesn’t.” She
smirked. “And it’s only fair that I remember his. I get him the best fresh brain I can find! His
ceremorphosis was completed on Mirtul 25th. I was born on Eleasis 6th.” She said. Vebeva
realized she didn’t even know when her own thralls were born. Did it actually matter that
much to them? Was she making Whim upset without knowing it?
“Natiri said that no one has ever celebrated her birthday. Why do you suppose that is?” The
ulitharid asked her gnomish friend.

“Sometimes humanoids without any close friends or family don’t get their birthdays
celebrated.” Caramyn speculated. Natiri didn’t seem bothered by the fact, but when Caramyn
put it like that, Vebeva wondered if her tiefling thrall was simply just used to it.

“We don’t celebrate our birthdays as the past bears no importance, yet you humanoids put
such a strange emphasis on it. I don’t get it. What is the significance of birthdays in your
surface culture?” Vebeva asked.

“It marks another year of growth. It lets most humanoids reflect on their lessons learned and
to appreciate all that they have been and currently are. I think Whim just wants to celebrate
your life and the memories he has with you.” Caramyn tried her best to answer.

“That is so adorable!” Vebeva was genuinely moved. “This has been a rather enlightening
conversation. I’ll let you get back to… Whatever the pathetic creature is doing to your
furniture. Good day!” By the time Vebeva ended her communication, the enraged illithid
ripped a hole into the pillow with his teeth.

“Oh Dalli, what am I going to do with you? Now we have to buy a new matching set!”
Caramyn playfully scolded him.

Vebeva’s attention was pulled away from her work when Whim informed her that her
“special guest” would be arriving soon.

“I suppose I should make myself more presentable then.” Vebeva went to her room and
decided that since it was a special occasion, she should wear something special from her
wardrobe. She put on a black spider silk dress with a high slit up the legs and a halter cut on
the chest. The outfit had flowing sleeves and a dramatically flared red collar. She decided to
wear her silver tentacle rings to complete the look.

Whim knew she owned such a dress but had never seen her in it before. He’d often imagined
what she’d look like in it. His jaw dropped as he looked at her with awe. Even Natiri found
herself staring at her mistress. Whim nearly dropped the tray he was holding. “Ahem… You
look absolutely exquisite, Mistress.” Whim had the derro seated at the table using some of his
own books to prop the shorter humanoid up. Natiri was seated in her chair as well. “This is
Sir Ranis of, uh. Where did you say you were from?” Whim tried to play into the derro’s
delusions.

“I already told you! Sluidia. You’d think an ulitharid’s servants would have better
memories!” Sir Ranis mentioned a kingdom and place that didn’t exist in the course of
insulting Whim indirectly.
“Ah, yes. My apologies, sire.” Whim feigned incompetence. “Here’s our first course. Pickled
trillimac with garlic.” Whim dutifully serves the plates. “And for the lady’s birthday, fresh
minotaur tongue in cerebrospinal fluid.”

Natiri was digging in. Even though she was carnivorous, these were savory! “You’ve really
outdone yourself if you’ve got me eating mushrooms, Whim!” Natiri complemented her
fellow thrall. Sir Ranis however, was far from impressed.

“Disgusting! I thought this would be fine dining, but instead you present me with a pile of
mushrooms! How insulting!” He scoffed.

“Take Natiri and move. I’m eating him now.” Vebeva told Whim. No one got away with
insulting Whim, even to hold up the pretense of whatever delicious delusion they were
cooking up. Whim immediately pulled Natiri’s chair back, any mess made be damned. Natiri
took the entire plate with her, eating off of it nonchalantly as her mistress mind blasted the
derro.

“Damn, he didn’t even last a full course.” Natiri commented. Sir Ranis was stunned as
Vebeva effortlessly pulled him away from the table. With her extraction staff, she effortlessly
extracted his brain. This ensured less of a mess to clean up before devouring his brain whole.

“What a fool, but his arrogance is delicious.” Vebeva savored the memories of her meal.
“You did well, Whim. I believe you deserve the spot of honored guest instead.” She carefully
cleared away Whim’s books from the seat, horror novels that he enjoyed reading and set them
aside. She then seated herself in her chair once more. The thralls could clean up after dinner.

“I am most appreciative, mistress. Please allow me to bring out the second course so I may
join you.” Whim bowed and excused himself before returning with the next dish. “Deep rothe
tartare with fire lichen garnish.” Whim introduced the next culinary masterpiece. Natiri didn’t
even care that it was raw.

“Who knew that one could make raw meat taste so elegant?” Vebeva complimented. She was
taste linking with Natiri, making sure she didn’t scarf this one down. Her palette seemed best
suited to savoring meat.

“I know, right? If nothing else, the food is one of the greatest perks of being your thrall,
Mistress. You’ve got a damn fine cook!” Natiri was in good spirits.

“Finally, someone with good taste.” Vebeva commented. “You’ve got something else on your
mind, don’t you?” Natiri was hiding something and she wanted to know what.
“I uh… Made you a present for your birthday anyway. I mean you’ll probably think it’s dumb
but uh…” Natiri started to blush. Vebeva still wanted to see it. Natiri took a small zurkhwood
carving out of her apron pocket. It was the basic shape of an ulitharid. Vebeva started to
giggle as she inspected it. Natiri blushed.

“It’s really cute! I truly mean that. In fact, I think I’ll display it with my candles.” She lightly
caressed Natiri’s cheek with a tentacle, feeling it’s warmth. Natiri gave a shy smile.

“I’m glad you like it, Mistress.” She humbly accepted her mistress’ praise. Her tail wags
slightly.

Whim retrieved everyone’s dishes when they were finished in order to bring out dessert,
which Natiri had no interest in eating. There was only enough for Whim to eat with Vebeva
taste linking. It was one of the smallest cakes she'd ever seen.

“I have something very special for you for dessert, Mistress. Chocolate cake. Made from
imported Maztican cocoa and sugar. Made fresh just for you.” Whim was quite proud to
unveil a tiny cake that looked more like a sample.

“Whim, how much did this cake cost?” Vebeva asked. Whim smiled nervously.

“While no cost is too great for my mistress, I promise to never ever put you in financial ruin!
That simply will not do.” He finely dodged the question.

“Whim.” She insisted.

“30 gold.” He took a bite quickly while she was taste linked with him.

“That is delectable! It certainly tastes like the gold that it cost…” She complimented. “Don’t
do that again without permission.” She bluntly added after he finished the cake.

Whim blushed out of embarrassment. “Yes, Mistress.” He affirmed. His mistress moved over
to him, wrapping her tentacle around her thrall’s collar.

“I think I want you in my chambers now.” Vebeva whispered with lustful intent into his mind.
“Natiri, I’d like you to clean up from dinner, please.” She motioned to the dead derro on the
floor. Natiri solemnly nodded at the grim job she was tasked with.

“Yes, Mistress.” She responded.

Vebeva led Whim into her chambers and she closed the door behind them.He felt her
controlling his every movement, making him take his clothing off. He was willingly allowing
himself to become her little puppet. He was her toy for her to play with. She slowly took off
her dress in front of him, not wanting to get it completely slimy. He was thankful for every
chance he got to please her, especially on her birthday. She brought him to her bed and set
him among soft pillows and silky blankets. “Oh, Happy birthday, indeed.” He smirked.

“You are my greatest gift of all, Whim.” Vebeva presses her forehead to Whim’s. His mind
feels warmth. Their bond feels more effortless with every time they enter it. He smiles as he
gives into the feeling. “My favored thrall. My love…” Her words were felt in his chest as he
lovingly kissed her forehead.

She laid him down, towering over him as she pulled his lower half into her lap. He loosely
wrapped his legs around her waist. Her tentacles teasingly caressed his thighs and chest. She
restrained his arms to his sides but he wasn’t fighting it in the slightest. He loved the smell
and feeling of being marked by her. He loved belonging to her. He loved everything she was,
is, and will be. He loved her.

She grabbed his hardening cock with one of her tentacles and skillfully began rubbing it.
Whim closed his eyes, intensifying the feeling of everything that she did to him. The feeling
of her clawed and dainty hands on him sent shivers through him. He started to squirm from it
all, tugging against his tentacled bonds. He was further aroused by the fact that no matter
how he squirmed, she wasn’t letting go. He mentally begged to be used by her. Every part of
him ached for it. “A very good gift, indeed.” Vebeva moaned softly.

Two words. Two words was all he needed to hear. “Good boy.” Those words filled his mind,
repeating like an echo. Whim moaned, bucking his hips against the tentacle pleasuring him.
Wet and slimy noises accompanied shaky breaths from them both. “Good boy. Good boy. G-
good boy! ” Her praise ended in a loud purr that shook him to his core.

“Yes! Oh yes, mistress!” He moaned. Her simple praise undid him as he slowly grew louder
and louder. The pace of the tentacle coiling and pumping his erection grew faster.
“Vebeva…” His voice ended in a squeak. He was close to bursting.

She cried out with him as his semen dribbled all over her tentacle. She milked everything she
could out of him, feeling it’s warmth as she let out soft gurgled moans. In her lust filled daze
she pushes it into his mouth. “Clean me up…” She commanded. Whim happily obliged,
licking up and swallowing every last drop of his own cum from her tentacle. She took note of
how much he seemed to enjoy doing that. “Oh my, did I give you a new kink?” She teased.

“No matter the task. I’m yours to do with as you please.” He smiled softly. He had no shame
in the slightest. He was proud to serve.
“I could not ask for a finer thrall. I am glad you are mine. I love you, Whim.” She laid beside
him, wrapping her tentacles around him loosely in the spooning position as the big spoon.

“I love you too, Mistress. I’m glad we are bonded.” He says. Vebeva realized he probably
loved her for a longer time than she ever really knew, and she was glad she reciprocated. She
had him for a whole year. She acquired him on the anniversary of her ceremorphosis
completion.

“No wonder that particular date was so special to him…” She thought to herself. She felt
silly for not realizing it earlier.

“Do you know yours and Natiri’s birthdays? I’m just curious.” Vebeva asked him.

“Mine is Ches 18th. Natiri’s is Mirtul 22nd.” He informed her. “Were you thinking about
celebrating? I mean you needn’t go through the trouble for us.” He gave a small smile.

“Perhaps yours at least. I don’t know how Natiri would react. I find that when I try to be kind
to her I often feel like I’m wounding her…” She pondered. “Who harmed her?”

“I suppose life in general had been unkind to her, Mistress. Her parents didn’t want her. She
had no home, no friends. I brought her here because no one would miss her.” Whim revealed.
She seemed to process that bit of information for several moments.

“Despite my initial misgivings, I want you to know that she has a home and it is here.” She
tells him. “Would you like to sleep with me? It is a special occasion, after all.” She offered.
Whim had a content smile on his face.

“I think you already know the answer to that, but I would say yes a thousand times for you.”
He smiled.

Vebeva got herself comfortable and prepared to sleep. “Natiri, if you’re tired you can sleep in
Whim’s bed tonight. He’s here with me.” She informed her.

“I haven’t finished cleaning yet, Mistress.” Natiri mentally informed her from another room.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s late. Go to sleep if you want to. It’s not like the mess is going
anywhere.” Vebeva dismissed her from her duties. “Have a pleasant rest.” Vebeva tells her.
Her voice is gentler than its usual firm tone. Natiri smiled softly, before putting down her
cleaning supplies. At least she got the derro corpse out so it wouldn’t stink up the domicile

“Thank you, Mistress… Happy Birthday.”

 And Then They Set Sail
Chapter Summary

Madalyn and Geddask finally get on the damn spelljammer.

Madalyn and Geddask helped their new tenants get settled into their home, without even
being 100% sure that they would have a home to return to. Madalyn and Geddask felt the
finality of it all as she handed the keys off to Zinnia. Madalyn knew there was a possibility
these adventurers could all die and the city would seize their abandoned property, which she
discussed openly with them to get it off her chest.

“Well, if that does happen, home is where the heart is.” Arendil said. “Your home will always
be the place for which you feel the deepest affection, no matter where you are.”

“Home for me is by your side…” Geddask held their lover’s hand. Madalyn smiled. “I don’t
believe we forgot anything, so if you’re ready, we should get going. Thank you. Even though
some of you murdered me.” Geddask said their farewells. Madalyn gave a soft chuckle at that
last line. She was glad Geddask was still here, even if the experience was highly traumatic.

“Goodbye everyone. It’s been a pleasure. For the most part.” Madalyn bid them farewell.

“Good luck on your travels!” Zinnia encouraged. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“I hope so too.” Madalyn gave Geddask’s hand a loving squeeze. They would take a carriage
to the dock ward. They found one at the end of Immar street. Madalyn gave the driver a few
extra coins. “We’re heading to the harbor. Could you take the long way around? A more
scenic route I suppose? We’re leaving Waterdeep and we’d like one last good look at the
city.” Madalyn requested.

“You’ve got it!” The driver confirmed. He’d driven these two weirdos around on a couple of
occasions. He was used to them by now. He almost felt like he was going to miss them.

“Leaving Waterdeep? Where are you heading to?” The driver asked them.

“No idea! On a ship to gods only knows where.” Madalyn admitted.

“Ah, the call of adventure. I was an adventurer once.” The carriage driver admitted.

“Did you take an arrow to the knee or something?” Madalyn asked.

“Wha? No. I retired.” He replied. Madalyn laughed awkwardly at his response. She hugged
Geddask’s arm, allowing them to link with her senses to see the city around them. The bright
yellows, honey browns and oranges and reds matched their lover’s intense eyes. They passed
Trollskull Alley. The little tavern that had a fireball flung at it had been fixed up.
Bookwyrm’s Treasure was a favorite store of Madalyn’s. She’d miss it. All the noble villas
and their fine homes were passed by.

Geddask always thought the residences of the nobles were architecturally beautiful. Madalyn
had a nice home but it was nothing compared to nobility. “I once thought about getting you
some servants so you could be more like the nobles, but we didn’t need the extra eyes on us.
That and slavery is illegal in Waterdeep.” They confessed. Madalyn’s face turned into a soft
frown.

“Keeping slaves is more trouble than it’s worth anyway. I think we can only really trust each
other. I was basically an indentured servant to my former teacher so I can say it leaves a little
bit of a bad taste in my mouth to do the same to another…” Madalyn revealed.

“I did not mean to bring up unpleasant memories. You are absolutely the only one that I need
by my side… I hope we can get far away from your pain. I think this journey is as important
for you as it is for me.” Geddask wrapped their arm around her. She realized she could smell
their distinct scent. How could that be? She coated the entire inside of their suit in nullscent
lotion! She then realized the smell was coming from her. “I should have bathed before
leaving…” She blushed.

“Perhaps, but it’s not as if most people even know what an illithid smells like. You’ll be fine.
It’s not unpleasant is it?” Geddask was trying to assure the wizard.

She settled into their embrace as they passed through the Castle Ward. “No. It’s not
unpleasant in the slightest.” She assured them. It was like sweet garlic bread. It was a bit
strong and strange at first, but Madalyn found that it had become her favorite scent in the
world. When it was paired with jasmine oil it became indescribably pleasant. Her mind
couldn’t place the smell but she enjoyed it and found it comforting and invigorating all at
once. “Well at least, I don’t think anyone would call me stinky…” Madalyn thought with a
smile. She looked at Castle Waterdeep.

“Castle Waterdeep is one of the most majestic buildings I’ve ever seen.” Geddask told
Madalyn. They enjoyed architecture. Especially that of grand buildings.

“It’s so beautiful at sunset, isn’t it?” Madalyn remarked. She realized that she would miss
this city far more than she realized, sewers and all.
“You’re anxious.” Geddask pointed out.

“I guess I’m all talk and bravado…” She smiled sadly.

“You certainly had big brass balls during all the instances you polymorphed me into a cat!”
The illithid teased. Her smile turned warmer at their comment. “Jumping into things
unknown is your strong suit. I find myself growing accustomed to it.” Geddask admitted.

The carriage turned into the Dock Ward, the city’s oldest and most notorious ward. Geddask
didn’t care for this place, filled with brawling drunks and wandering monsters, it was one of
the less safe neighborhoods in the city. It did occasionally have valuable people and resources
to be in contact with. “Remember when those two Black Boar goons tried to jump us that one
night?” Madalyn asked Geddask.

“I remember well. Those pathetic drunks couldn’t even throw a punch. I vividly remember the
sound of your staff cracking over his back and you shouted ‘I’ll replace your blood with
vanilla extract and alphabetize your bones!’” Geddask fondly recalled. Madalyn quietly
laughed at their enthusiastic recollection.

“They must have taken my threat seriously because they sure ran off fast.” Madalyn
smirked.

“I took it seriously. I genuinely could not tell you were bluffing.” Geddask admitted.

“I can assure you, I don’t know a Blood to Vanilla Extract spell.” Madalyn’s smile grew
wider as she tried not to laugh out loud.

This was their stop. They were looking for The Dwarven Lady. Madalyn couldn’t find it over
all these people, but maybe Geddask could… “If I were to turn you into a raven, perhaps you
could literally get a bird’s eye view of the docks and find the ship.” She suggested. Geddask
cupped the beak of their mask between their thumb and index finger in thought.

“Sure. I look enough like one anyway…” They nodded silently. They willingly allowed
Madalyn to turn them into a raven. The illithid turned into a bird perched on Madalyn’s hand,
letting out a low gurgling croak. Geddask thought about the wing movements of birds they
observed before and made an attempt at taking off. They rose into the sky, awkwardly at first
until they soared above the docks.

Geddask found it quickly. It was a galleon just like any other ship. The Dwarven Lady had
the figurehead of a beefy and bearded dwarven maiden, charging into battle with a hammer
and shield. The raven turns and returns to Madalyn’s waiting and outstretched hand and
manages to stick the landing. Madalyn dismissed the polymorph, embracing them to keep
them steady. “I found it!” Geddask’s voice was excited. They grabbed Madalyn’s hand and
started leading her to the ship. “I have to admit, that was… Interesting.” They had to think of
the word they were looking for. Madalyn was surprised Geddask was taking so much
initiative but she was happy to sense them being so excited. They seemed to be having fun.
She smiled as her lover brought her to the ship.

Since Zinnia said the crew was expecting them, getting passage aboard the ship was easy.
They met with a human man named Captain Arnam. He was a mountain of a man, taller than
Geddask. He had thick and wavy copper brown hair. His tan face had an eyepatch over his
left eye and a massive scar running down the same side. His remaining eye was full of zeal
and his smile was large, warm and kind. He had a peg leg made of adamantine.

“Ye must be Madalyn and Geddask.” Captain Arnam greeted.

“Ah, yes. That’s us.” Madalyn softly confirmed. The man had an imposing presence that
seemed scary to Madalyn. Geddask bravely shook his hand. There was no way the captain
would be able to smell them with the nullscent in his suit.

“The lass reeks of far squid.” Arnam smirked.

“Eh?!” Madalyn blushed. Geddask gripped the beak of their mask. The illithid felt the heat
flushing in their face. “Ahaha! I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir!” Madalyn waved
her hands dismissively.

“Geddask’s no humanoid name I’ve ever heard, lass. So why doesn’t yer friend take off their
mask?” The captain requested. Madalyn’s heart sank. She looked like she was going to cry.

“I sense no hostility, Madalyn.” Geddask slowly removed their hat and mask, allowing their
tentacles to wiggle free from their confines.

“No way! You were right, Captain! It’s a mind flayer!” The cabin boy cried. The crew of 19
all hide behind their captain. Geddask reached out with one of their tentacles and wrapped it
around Madalyn’s wrist as he looked at the captain. The wizard holds their tentacle in
response.

“Yar har har! So ye fell in love. No surprise there with the way that ye smelled, lass!” Arnam
gave a hearty laugh.

“Ew! That’s so weird!” The cabin boy said. Children often had a sort of brutal honesty about
them.

“It’s a long story. I don’t care if your crew has anything rude to say about it.” Geddask
boldly told them.
“When’s the last time yer slimy friend ate?” Arnam asked.

“Recently. Geddask said it themselves. It’s not like they can treat the crew like a buffet.”
Madalyn recalled with a smirk.

“I’m not going to eat anyone. I packed extra rations.” Geddask wondered if they somehow
made it worse when they felt disgust from the cabin boy. “How long will it take us to reach
our destination?” The illithid asked.

“5 hours. By the stars, ye don’t even know where we’re going, do ye?” Captain Arnam
smiled smugly.

“I’m embarrassed to say that my knowledge is severely lacking, captain.” Geddask admitted.

“Has the lass ever been on a ship like this?” Geddask could sense Arnam was tact in not
questioning their own sailing experience.

“Neither of us have.” Geddask was honest. The captain laughed boisterously.

“A couple o’ green groundlings who don’t even know where they’re going! I suppose next ye
two will tell me that yer running away together.” Arnam teased them. Madalyn blushed,
feeling defensive at his teasing.

“We’re paying for transportation to wherever you’re going. We’re willing to pay well so if
you don’t want our business, just say so already.” Madalyn said sternly. The crew dare not
say a word.

“How much is it worth to ye, lass?” He smirked. She took a pouch of 500 gold out of her bag
of holding. It would be her initial offer, to see if he would accept it. She was willing to give
just about everything she had if she had to.

“Aye, gold does make the multiverse turn ‘round but ye be a wizard! I want something more
interesting from ye.” Arnam smirked. Madalyn’s eyes widened. He didn’t want money? She
thinks about what other items of value they could have. She wasn’t sure why the thought
occurred to her but her gaze turned to her pouch. She pulled out her pipe of smoke monsters.

“Madalyn! Didn’t you say that was a gift from one of your fellow adventurers?” Geddask
wondered how she could give that up so easily.

“It was, but those people are dead to me now. I don’t need this anymore.” Madalyn tells
them.

“A pipe? I don’t even smoke!” Arnam laughed.

“It’s a pipe of smoke monsters. It is a magical item, so even if you don’t want it, you can sell
it.” She tried to reason. Geddask could tell the captain wouldn’t accept just the pipe. They
had to sacrifice something too.

“I have something too…” Geddask pulled out their heating orb. “When you say the command
word, it just gradually gets hotter. It’s great for boiling water. I’ve used it to warm entire
baths. I’ll write the command word down for you so you don’t forget it. It’s completely
flameless!” The illithid did their best to sell their creation.

“Flameless, ye say? Now that could be useful for our chef in the phlogiston!” Arnam smiled
widely. “Very well. We’ll take yer offerings as payment.” Arnam agreed, collecting the
goods. “We set sail fer the Rock O’ Bral!” He informed them.

“Rock Of Bral? Phlogiston?” Madalyn knew nothing of the life these men lived.

“Ye may be pale as a ghost with clothes black as a void, but yer greener than a seasick
sailor…” Arnam shook his head. “Perhaps it might be better to show rather than tell. Weigh
anchor, boys!” The crew scrambled to get the ship ready to leave the harbor. A spectacled
halfling man who looked to be a fellow wizard sat in what looked to be a throne far larger
than him and within moments the ship began to move and they began to sail out of the
harbor. Geddask peeked out of the portside window.

Geddask realized they didn’t recall seeing a helm on the deck. They then looked at the
halfling wizard seated in the throne. They cast Detect Magic out of curiosity. The throne
radiated with powerful magic. “Is that the helm?” They asked, tilting their head curiously.

“You catch on fast! Helmsman Finoran at your service! Most helms like this require someone
with magical power, normally a wizard like your girlfriend to get a spelljammer to move!”
The halfling man explained. They were moving at 8 knots along the surface of the water.

“And I’m not taking on a squid and a green groundling wizard as crew!” Captain Arnam was
quick to squash any ideas.

“I’ll have you know I’m a capable wizard, but I was not offering my services.” Madalyn
huffed.

“Aye. Glad we’re on the same page.”

“Captain, you haven’t told us where the Rock of Bral is.” Geddask pointed out.

“It be one o’ the Tears O’ Selune.” Captain Arnam replied. “This port has a law that any ship
docking or leaving this port first has to go out into the Trackless Sea. It’s so ye groundlubbers
don’t panic over flying ships from space. We’ll take off once we lose sight o’ the shore about
30 miles out.” He explained.
Geddask thought that the penalties must be really harsh if the sailors were so adamant about
following such an inconvenient law. “So at our current rate of speed which is…” Geddask
was so curious. Their mind was stimulated. Madalyn could tell by the way her lover’s
tentacles writhed, growing ever excited.

“8 knots.” Finoran told them. Geddask’s mind quickly did the calculations.

“So we would be able to fly off in three and a half hours… Well that’s not terribly exciting.”
Geddask sounded disappointed.

“Har har! Ye’ve got an adventurous squid on yer hands, Madalyn!” Arnam found the illithid’s
disappointment at not immediately sailing the stars to be amusing. They were taken down
into the cargo deck, being shown where they could rest for the 5 and a half hour journey.

“Why you put squid near my bunk?!” An orc protested.

“C’mon Bramzakk! You’ll get along great with ‘em!” A goblin man wearing a helmet said.
“Your brain’s so small, it can dodge outta the way if he bites ya!” He joked.

“Geddask is nonbinary.” Madalyn corrected.

“Sorry. If they bite ya.” He nonchalantly corrected himself.

“They also don’t eat junk food.” The raven haired wizard chuckled.

“We only have one spare hammock, so don’t be weird and gross while sharing it!” A stout
male human cleric simply named Doc tossed it to them, interrupting the bickering orc and
goblin.

“I’ll just… Be here. On the floor, in the corner.” Geddask awkwardly curled up on the floor
with their bag, using it as a pillow. “Wake me up when we’re about to leave planetside,
please.” They requested. Bramzakk helped Madalyn set up the hammock, and she sat down
once it was secured.

“Geddask, you look like a wounded animal over there.” Madalyn playfully shook her head.
“If you’re going to look so sad and pathetic, you may as well have some company…” She got
up from her hammock and seated herself next to Geddask on the floor. She pulled the book
she packed out of her bag and began reading to keep herself busy. She allowed the illithid to
wrap a tentacle around her arm. “If you can somehow sleep like that, props to you. I’ll wake
you up later. Don’t feel bad about taking the hammock if you start to get sore.” She offered.

“You didn’t have to give up your comfort for-” Geddask tried to tell Madalyn.
“Shush, or I’ll turn you into something that can’t complain.” She playfully threatened. “I
wanted to.” She insisted.

Madalyn got as comfortable as she could as she got back into her book. They had a long
journey ahead of them as they set sail.
 Punish Me, Master!
Chapter Summary

Zusrall catches (you) breaking his house rules, and in his favorite chair no less!

Today was one of the rare occasions when Zusrall left you alone by yourself. Normally you’d
be spending this time breaking your master’s rules and as far as you knew, he was none the
wiser but ever since he’s decided to be more flexible with his rules, you’d been too shy to
partake. It was always Zusrall encouraging you to masturbate. You’d never done it on your
own before. You made sure you had your chores done before doing anything. A good thrall
did their chores first! Now while the master was away, the thrall would play.

Your master’s chair looked so comfortable. He never let you sit in it unless it was in his lap.
You especially weren’t allowed to pleasure yourself outside of your room, but your master
wasn’t here. How would he know? You sat yourself in his chair. There was one rule you
could easily follow. Think of your master when you pleasure yourself. You slowly removed
your clothes. You’d be done before he got back. You’d clean up any mess you made like it
never even happened. You knew you had to do this quickly and went straight into touching
yourself the instant you found a comfortable position on the large leather chair.

It was practically a throne. It was every bit as comfortable as you imagined it. Your master’s
scent was faintly ingrained into the leather. It only made it easier for you to imagine Zusrall’s
tentacles having their way with you. The memories of the way that he ripped your pleasure
from you like a hungry animal made you quicken your pace eagerly.

Unbeknownst to you, your master had methods of watching you while he was away. The
shield on the wall and its round crystal embedded in it wasn’t just for looks. You never heard
or saw him enter the domicile. He had managed to sneak behind you and wrap your arms in
his tentacles, latching onto them and pulling them away from your most sensitive erogenous
zones. You looked up to see your master staring straight down at you. He was levitating
behind the high back of the chair. You screamed from being so startled.

Your mind was filled with a deep and wicked laugh at your reaction. “Master! You’re home
early!” You gave him a nervous smile. He released your arms and weightlessly brought
himself in front of you.
“Are you having fun being a bad and naughty thrall?” He asked cooly. You couldn’t make
eye contact with him. You looked off to the side. Your cheeks burned as you frowned
shamefully.

“No, Master. I thought about you like you told me to!” You tried to lessen his cold voice by
admitting you were obedient in other aspects.

“It’s all fun and games until you get caught. You know the house rules. Did you think I
wouldn’t find out?” He scolded you. You couldn’t tell just how upset he was or how much
trouble you were in.

You bit your lip as you mentally answered him honestly. “Yes. I thought I could clean up my
mess really well before you got home…” There was no sense in lying to him. He’d figure out
the truth eventually anyway. You found yourself fidgeting in his chair. You couldn’t even
remove your offending presence from his chair because he had blocked your path. Your
master cupped your face in his hands, feeling the heat of embarrassment from your cheeks.
He turned your head, forcing you to look him in the eyes. You felt your breaths become
heavier from the intense stare of his solid white eyes.

“I feel like I’ve been quite lenient with you. What am I going to do with you?” Zusrall asked
sternly. Only one word sprang to your mind. Punishment. You were bad and bad thralls got
punished.

“I don’t know what you’re going to do to me. Are you asking for a suggestion?” You
mumbled.

You’d only ever been punished once in the entire time that he owned you. He tried taking
away your books that day. With nothing to amuse yourself with, you had mentally beaten
yourself up so badly that he himself felt horrible and returned them in mere hours. You don’t
even remember what you had even gotten in trouble for.

Zusrall could sense your apprehension, mixed with a hint of arousal as his tentacle once again
curled around the wrist with your psionic brand. He was playing with your mind in a careful
balancing act to keep you from tumbling into a panic attack. Some thralls were just naturally
predisposed to having anxious minds, and you were no exception. “A brave question, my
prized thrall, but no. It was a rhetorical question.” He responded. He psionically lifted you
from his seat. You gasped softly as he sat down in the leather chair and pulled you into his lap
with a firm tug.

“You enjoyed my seat, didn’t you?” He asked you.

“Yes, Master.” You squeaked. He had a firm grip on you as he positioned you so that your
back was pressed against him. He entered your thoughts. You willingly opened your mind to
him. No matter how anxious you got, you trusted him to make you perfect. He made you
spread your legs for him. You felt your body heating up as his tentacles increasingly
encroached upon your skin. The mere touch of his clawed hands rubbing your inner thighs
was enough to start driving you crazy.

“You’ve been busy breaking my house rules, haven’t you?” He teased you.

“I did my chores first!” You insisted.

“I’ll be checking…” He told you. Before you could even think about arguing that you did
everything he asked, his hand began to stimulate you, touching your most sensitive regions.
You helplessly whimpered as he pleasured you in his lap. “Give me a good reason why I
should let you cum.”

Your sexual frustration was palpable as he tried to elicit an answer from you. “Uhm. Uh…
Uhm. Ah, I uh…” You couldn’t think with him touching you like this. You did all your
chores but that was expected of you! You didn’t think that you “really wanted to cum” was a
good enough reason.

“Try again…” He commanded. You heard him straining to hold in his moans as he teased
you.

“B-because I learned my lesson and I’ll never use your chair again?” It was the best you
could offer. He slowed his pace to an agonizing crawl.

“Such bad behavior from an otherwise perfect thrall. Enjoy yourself as long as you can hold
out, because there will be consequences when I’m through with you.” He held you close with
his free arm and his tentacles.

No matter how you squirmed and begged, you wouldn’t be getting away from him. You felt a
tentacle slide between your legs as the hand that teased you glides over your inner thigh once
more. His tentacle slowly entered you, causing you both to moan softly. You wrapped your
arm around Zusrall’s shoulder, holding onto him for support. You tried to control your
breathing, not wanting to completely lose it over your master’s attention.

You stared at him, trying to keep your wits about you. The longer you put it off, the longer
you’d last without being punished. “We’re putting up a fight, are we? You don’t want to cum
for me?” He teased you.

“Can you blame me for wanting to enjoy you longer?” You asked through shaky breaths.
“I suppose not…” He growled pleasurably as his tentacle plunged deeper into you. Your eyes
rolled back. Your voice strained as you tried to hold back. You grabbed one of his free
tentacles, wanting to put it in your mouth to muffle yourself. He pulled it from your grasp.
“Ah, ah. No. Only good thralls get to taste their master.” He scolded you playfully. You
whined with lustful exasperation.

“You’re in no position to express indignation!” He wrapped the tentacle loosely around your
neck. It was so tantalizingly close to your mouth as the tip cupped your chin. “You want to be
a good thrall, don’t you?” He asked.

“Yes, master!” You whimpered. “I want to be good. You love me when I’m good…” You
were in danger of falling off that precarious mental tightrope your master constructed. He
pulled you close, pressing his forehead to yours. You were pulled back to balance before you
could fall. You were in his embrace. You were his. He conveyed this reminder to you as he
felt at your psionic brand with his tentacle.

“I still love you even when you’re naughty.” He assured you. You kissed him, feeling your
bond strengthen. The love and warmth you felt from him assaulted your very psyche and you
leaned into it eagerly. He pleasured you with both his hand and his tentacle, and you felt your
mind pulled even deeper into his desires. You became a moaning and squirming mess in your
master’s lap. You wanted to cry from how he ripped that last bit of tension you didn’t know
you were holding. You felt pleasure rushing towards you as you quivered in his lap.

“M-master! Not yet! Not yet!” You mentally pleaded. You didn’t want to cum yet! Zusrall let
out a gooey groan. He could have taken what he wanted from you, but it seemed you were a
glutton for a different kind of punishment today.

“Get up.”

You obeyed his stern command. “Bring me your leash.”

You retrieved it from its hook on the door. You weren’t sure why he wanted it. Were you
going somewhere? “Put it on for me.” He commanded from his chair. You hooked the chain
to your collar. You wondered what he was going to do next. You felt him take hold of you.
You brought the matching ottoman he’d rest his feet on after a long day closer to him. He
took hold of your leash with a tentacle before bringing it into his hand. He wordlessly made
you bend over on the piece of furniture.

“Now then… Where were we? You’re still not getting out of your consequences. ” His voice
became teasing once again. You couldn’t turn around to see what he was doing. You were in
the dark and your entire body tensed in anticipation. One of his tentacles playfully smacked
your ass, making a wet slapping sound. You made a soft yelp. You felt him tug the leash,
lightly pulling your collar against your neck. Two of his tentacles wrapped around your
thighs. He noticed his slime slowly dripping out of you. Zusrall made himself comfortable,
appreciating the view before his other two tentacles eagerly rubbed you and entered you. You
gripped onto the edge of the ottoman.

“Oh fuck…! Master!” You moaned as your legs quivered. You already made a mess of his
robes and now you were slowly dripping onto the leather and the floor as you started backing
up against his tentacles to meet his thrusts. At first he controlled your movements but now
you were doing them on your own.

“Whether you’re a good thrall or a bad thrall, you’ll always be my little whore, won’t you?”
His filthy words sent your mind into a lusty daze. Neither of you would be able to think
clearly until you finished.

“Yes, Master! Thank you for using me!” You started to fully give in. “Right there… Make me
cum please!” You begged him.

“Well, since you said please and thank you…” He began working you closer and closer to
your climax. You couldn’t deny him any longer. Zusrall couldn’t even speak but there was an
unspoken praise in his movements and in connection. Your entire beings burned with need as
one. You couldn’t stop it even if you wanted to. Your climax struck like a flying arrow.
Suddenly let out a loud cry of pleasure with your master. An accidental touch to your now
very sensitive body sent you squirming to get away from the overstimulation. Zusrall
dropped the leash. Your hand slipped and you went sliding onto the hard stone floor.

“A-agh…! Are you alright!?” His gooey voice asked. You giggled, unharmed from your
embarrassing little slip. Zusrall sighed with relief as he tried to regain his bearings. He ended
up laughing himself. You stared up at the ceiling for a moment before slowly sitting up. You
were completely covered in his slime and it was dripping out of you. Zusrall couldn’t even
move. He would definitely need a minute.

“I’ll get you something to drink…” You told him. You gave your master a tender smile as you
brought him fresh water to drink from your own basin. He eagerly drank it.

“Now here’s what’s going to happen. You didn’t think I forgot did you?” His tentacles curled
smugly.

“No, I was sure you’d remember.” You poked your fingers together.

“You’re going to clean this mess up and wash my robes. That’s your punishment.” He patted
your head with a tentacle.
“That’s it? You’re not mad?” You asked him. You felt like you got off so easy compared to
the dreadful scenarios you made up in your head.

“Oh please! My name’s not Vebeva!” He laughed. Zusrall pressed a tentacle to your lips
before taking off his robes, leaving them on the floor for you to clean up. “I’m getting in my
balcony tub. You can take the rest of the day off when you’re done cleaning up this mess.” He
informed you.

“Wish I could join you…” You mumbled.

“You’re being punished. Besides, you know we can’t do that outside of the breeding pen.
Could you imagine the stares I’d get?” Zusrall sighed softly. He wished you could too. Those
baths in the back were supposed to only be for thralls but nobody stopped a paying client or
two from getting some attention from some thralls. After all, they were hotsprings and just as
beneficial to the illithids as they were to the thralls.

“I know. It’s just nice to dream sometimes, I guess…” You smiled softly. It was somewhat
bittersweet. “Uhm… I should get cleaning now.” You moved to get your cleaning supplies
and began gathering them.

“That’s my good thrall.” Zusrall praised.

When he was outside, you were gently washing the floor, wiping the seat and the ottoman.
He sure helped you make a mess of it! When you finished, you picked up your own clothes
and put them back on. You would sometimes “borrow” an article of his clothing and slept
with it under your pillow. You always made sure to put it back so he’d never know you stole
it. Who were you trying to fool? Of course he knew. It brought you comfort since you
normally didn’t share the same bed.

You took a sash from his robes and tucked it under your pillow “for safe keeping”. You
dunked the robes in a bucket of water, using a gentler soap on them. Once you thought you’d
sufficiently cleaned them, you rung them out and hung them over the railing of his balcony to
let them dry. “I’ll bring you some clean robes to change into, Master.” You told him warmly.
You made sure the clothing was secured. An illithid living below wouldn't be fond of wet
clothing slapping them in the face. Vizaness’ home was not too far under Zusrall’s.

The deeper one lived in the chasms of the colony, the higher their station was in life as they
were closer to the elder brain. One time you had lost hold of your master’s loincloth and you
were face to face with your unamused neighbor, Vizaness. The way Zusrall laughed while
you practically bowed to apologize to her was a fond and funny memory. You gathered some
clean and fresh clothing for your master and returned to him, placing the neatly folded
clothes onto a small table on the balcony. “Feel free to call me if you need anything else.”
Even though you had been punished, you were smiling in good spirits. Zusrall was pleased
that for once you weren’t beating yourself up over a mistake you made.

“I’ll keep you in mind, my prize thrall.” He acknowledged you warmly.

You went to your room to enjoy your off hours. You began reading a new book. It was called
Blazing Hearts. It was about a hobgoblin war chief and his nemesis, a red dragon. Both are
fighting for the affections of a hot tempered fire genasi woman. Zusrall told you he bought it
because he thought the cover was interesting. The hobgoblin named Chetiin was an
interesting character. He was a talented carpenter that built and designed a stronghold for his
followers. After an hour of reading the exposition chapters, you decided to take a nap.
Blowing out your candle, you settled into bed with your rothe toy, hugging it tightly to you.

As you dozed off, you felt your master’s presence nearby. You looked so precious to him
when you slept. You smiled softly, stirring slightly.

“Thank you for loving me, Master. Even when I’m naughty…” You mentally told him. He
thought it was a strange thing to thank him for.

“I am equally as fortunate to have your companionship.” He levitated into your bed. “What’s
this?” He yanked his sash from under your pillow. You had carelessly left the end sticking
out.

“Oh, uh. Ahaha… It helps me sleep. I’m sorry for stealing your things, Master.” You
apologized sheepishly as you turned to look at him.

“I’ve been aware of your thievery for quite some time.” He confirmed your suspicions that he
already knew. Zusrall found it adorable that you desired his company so much. “I can’t
punish you for desiring my presence.” He settled into your bed. “Since you did such a good
job clearing up your mess, I suppose I can indulge you.” He gently pressed his forehead to
yours. That gentle emotional warmth flowed through you. It was unconditional and enduring.
It was comforting as you sank deeper into a relaxed slumber.

Perhaps your master liked it when you were a little bit bad. Whether good or bad, he loved
you dearly.
 A Private Meeting
Chapter Summary

Srebral decides to take Maybelle up on her offer and discovers a new range of emotion.

Maybelle was adjusting to her new home and job quite well. The human woman handled just
about anything with a smile. She found herself apologizing a lot to customers for the spice
shortage as of late but she didn’t let rude customers bother her. She figured their crankiness
was directed at the situation and not at her. Brilanna had promptly ceased bullying her, but
despite their rooms being next to each other, they didn’t talk much. She learned that the
hobgoblin chef was named Wesmi. Wesmi was a mother of two sons who joined the ranks of
the Tamer Creed. One of them died in the line of duty but her younger son was still alive. She
was a talkative woman with a crass sense of humor.

Shelura was more welcoming despite her intimidating appearance. After work, Maybelle was
going to head back to her room. “Hey! Maybelle! Come have a drink with us!” Shelura
offered. Maybelle smiled brightly at being invited to a social activity! The human approached
the group. “Are you a stout kind of girl or a wine kind of girl?” Shelura asked her. Maybelle
had never even tasted alcohol before.

“I actually have no idea. I think it smells funny though…” Maybelle admitted.

“Just give her one of each then, Shelly!” Wesmi suggested. Brilanna was among the group
sipping their wine delicately.

“You know the boss only lets us have one drink a day, Wesmi.” Shelura said.

“So? Just put half in both drinks to make one drink.” Wesmi reasoned.

“She’s a goodie two shoes. She’s never had a drop in her life! Am I right?” Brilanna teased.

“I don’t see what drinking alcohol has to do with behavior but you’re right.” Maybelle
conceded naively. Shelura poured Maybelle a small sample of each. The wine was called
ripple white wine. She tried the darklake stout and physically cringed from the bitter taste.

Shelura let out a hearty laugh at Maybelle’s reaction. “Wow, that’s really gross!” Maybelle
remarked, sticking out her tongue in disgust. “Sorry…” She gently pushed the glass away
from her.

“Don’t feel bad. Shelura’s the only one of us who can stomach that crap.” Wesmi assured the
human woman. Maybelle then nervously reached for the wineglass and sipped from it. It was
somewhat nutty, somewhat sweet, and pale yellow in color. The smell of it was actually kind
of pleasant. The flavor was subtle yet nuanced. Srebral was locking up his office to go home
for the day.

“This wine is pretty good! Where do we get this one from?” Maybelle liked this one a lot
better. Srebral normally ignored his thralls when they were on their break, but he had to admit
that Maybelle’s compliment did make him feel a bit of pride.

“I actually brewed it myself. I made it in house to save money.” He answered even if

Maybelle wasn’t talking to him.

“You made this? Well done! I’d love to see how you make it some time!” She told him. His
tentacles wiggled when she told him that. No one had ever been interested in his brewing
before.

“Maybe when I brew my next batch, I’ll show you.” Srebral offered. His tentacles curled ever
so slightly.

“Anyway, I’m heading out. See you tomorrow.” He couldn’t let them see his paling face. That
strange feeling in his chest returned and he felt like he had to get away from it.

“Goodnight, sir!” Maybelle cheerfully bid him farewell. The other thralls waited until Srebral
was out of ear shot and gone.

“Did you see how he looked at you, Maybelle?” Shelura asked. “I think he likes you.”

“Really? I sure hope so!” Maybelle smiled. Brilanna blushed, remembering what happened in
the boss’ office. She gulped back the last of her wine.

“How can you sound so naive? It’s super obvious he wants to… You know… With these
massive rothe tits, it’s no surprise…” Brilanna pouted as she poked Maybelle’s chest.

“You don’t have to be jealous. I think you’re pretty the way you are.” Maybelle said.

“I’m not jealous!” Brilanna insisted.

“Chest envy for sure.” Shelura laughed. Wesmi nodded in agreement.

“I am not! Ugh! Forget you jerks! I’m going to bed!” Brilanna stormed off to her room. That
damn new girl and her rothe sized tits.
“Aww… I didn’t mean to make her feel bad.” Maybelle pouted.

“Don’t worry about it, Maybelle. She gets like that at even the slightest bit of teasing.”
Shelura smirked. “Brilanna can dish it out but she can’t take it. She’ll get over it."

Srebral was going straight home. He couldn’t afford to go to the Succulent Encephalon this
month so he’d just go home and go to sleep. Unlike many illithids in Oryndoll, Srebral lived
alone. He never kept a personal thrall for long because he often ended up eating them out of
anger. He stopped bothering with keeping a thrall in his home. It was a resource drain. He
didn’t need anyone pestering him when he came home. He was perfectly content to fall
asleep in the silence of his domicile. These were all things he’d convinced himself of. He had
thralls come in to clean it once in a while, but none of them lived with him.

The illithid kicked off his shoes at the door, pulled off his clothes, leaving them strewn
haphazardly through his domicile. He grabbed a pickled brain from one of the jars in his
larder and scarfed it down. It was a mediocre druegar brain. A poor blacksmith on the daily
grind, living and working until he died. After that relatable experience, he entered his
sleeping chamber and flopped into his bed. His sitting room consisted of a single arm chair.
He had destroyed and replaced it at least once. He had various resonance stones but he felt
like they didn’t really do anything for him. There was a terrarium which he kept pillbugs in.
His sleeping chambers had shelves of knicknacks. Various sculptures of mushrooms, animals
and spheres, all made from different crystals and minerals.

As he pulled the blanket over himself, he found that his thoughts turned to Maybelle. He
sometimes found himself holding his own tentacle before bed. It was a self soothing behavior
he started engaging in months ago. He began imagining her hands on him. Her lips and that
damn smile. A gentle self loving touch became a yearning for more. He’d been trying to
sleep for God-Brain only knows how long. He couldn’t bother her at this time. He was
already home and she was probably asleep. She said “any time”, but there’s no way she
actually meant it, did she? He sighed, sitting up from his bed. Levitating out of the sleeping
chamber, he slowly collected his clothing and put the garments back on. He couldn’t believe
he was thinking about doing this. If anyone asked, he’d just say he forgot something or that
he needed to talk to the new hire. To his surprise, no one said a single word to him. The
“dayshift” ladies were all in their quarters. The “nightshift”consisted of a single bored
duergar named Balrak Wildminder who handled check in at the inn. Balrak was also a
vigileater agent who kept an eye on suspicious patrons. Unbeknownst to the guests that
stayed here, rare as they were, Balrak could read minds.

The grey dwarf merely glanced in Srebral’s direction before going back to silently sweeping
the floor. He never bothered going into a thrall’s room before. He quietly opened the door to
find Maybelle wasn’t asleep at all. She was drawing on the walls with chalk. She had a rather
impressive mural of diatryma birds and a cutesy looking cavvekan. She looked at Srebral.
“Hello, sir. Sorry about the mess. I can clean it up if you want me to.” The illithids at the
menagerie always made her wash away her drawings when she was done.

“No, it’s your room. You can do what you want as long as you don't break anything. Wait,
where did you get the chalk from?” He realized he hadn’t given her any chalk…

“I bought it when you told me and Shelura to buy new plates.” Maybelle answered.

“I didn’t say you could spend my money!” He scolded.

“It’s okay! I spent my own money!” She tried to assure her master.

“Where did you get money from!?” Srebral’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Sometimes the customers give me money ‘cause they like me! They always insist on putting
their coin pouches down my shirt though…” She answered. She gasps as she makes a
realization. “Is that why Brilanna doesn’t get any money?” She asked innocently. The
question blind sided Srebral. “That’s so sad! I should share my money with her. She feels bad
about not having boobs.”

Her conclusion that she should be generous with the money she got because of Brilanna’s
lack of a bosom completely flabbergasted and flustered him. He could not believe he was
thinking of doing this. He closed the door behind him.

“Did you need something? Or did you just want to talk?” She was happy to accommodate.
He could sense how welcoming she was.

“Maybelle… Do you think we could try what we did in my office again?” He worked up the
courage to ask.

“Picking up where we left off? No problem!” She took off her clothes without hesitation.
Srebral’s face turned completely pale. He wasn’t sure what he expected but it wasn’t that! He
slowly approached her. His hands hesitated as they hovered over her breasts. “Nervous?” She
asked. Her face had a gentle care and concern for him written on it.

“Tense…” He admitted. She grabbed his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s alright, sir! I know what to do. I’ll take care of you.” She smiled gently. She climbed
into her bed and patted the moss in front of her. She wanted him to join her.
The concept was completely alien to him but he decided to follow her. He sat on her bed,
facing her. The human woman gently placed her hands on his tentacles. Gentle squeezes and
strokes of his supple and soft flesh instantly made his tension melt away. He closed his eyes,
purring softly on impulse. He found his tentacles wrapping around her arms, wanting more.

“Does that feel good, sir?” Maybelle asked.

“This is wonderful…” He responded. Maybelle began to kiss his coiling tentacles as she
rubbed them. It was like the day’s frustrations were being pulled out of him bit by bit.

“I can touch you some more if you would like me to.” She softly offered. “Sometimes the
illithids at the bath house really liked having their back and chest rubbed.” She could tell he’s
never done anything like this before. She never questioned it. She just wanted to help him
feel good.

Srebral wordlessly removed his shirt. He turned his back to her and sat comfortably. At that
moment he felt so vulnerable. It was strange but the moment her hands began to massage his
back, he felt like he was in a warm bath of emotional comfort. Her hands slowly worked their
way downwards to his lower back. “Ooh… You’ve got a knot here.” Maybelle pointed out.

“I honestly couldn’t tell…” Srebral admitted as she began to work that out.

“Sometimes stress can cause that. You must have been holding onto that for a while if you
didn’t notice.” She whispered. He gently rocked back and forth as he leaned into her touch
pushing against his back. She then hugged him from behind, her breasts pressed against his
back. She lovingly kissed his shoulder and his tentacles curled contently around her arm.

“I know how to help with stress. I’m happy to do it any time you want.” Maybelle offered.

“You’re already working wonders, Maybelle.” Srebral admitted to her. The illithid rubbed his
hand against her thigh. He wanted to try that feeling again. She released her hold on him. He
found himself wrapping his tentacles around her breasts, enjoying the tactile sensation of
them. “Stupid question but how exactly does this work?” He sounded nervous as an obvious
virgin.

“There’s no such thing as a stupid question, sir! I’m happy to explain.” She assured him.

“Could you… Call me by my name when we’re alone?” His face was pale making that
request.

“Of course, Srebral!” She complied with a warm smile as she invited him into her mind. Her
nipples became hard as his tentacles teased them. Maybelle was right. This did feel good. She
smirked as she decided to show him rather than tell. Mental imagery of illithids sticking their
tentacles inside humanoids and touching them with their hands filled Srebral’s mind. He
pulled his tentacles away, panting from seeing just that.

“They stick their tentacles where!?” He covered his face with his tentacles out of
embarrassment. Maybelle softly giggled at his reaction.

“That’s only one of many ways to play. Some illithids aren’t comfy with touching thralls at
all and they’re just as valid. I could touch myself while you read my mind, or you can ease
into it all. There’s no wrong answer as long as it feels good.” She explained.

“Maybe I’ll try that…” He trailed off. He laid down, getting comfortable. “Touch yourself
for me. Please…” There was a soft desperation in his voice. He needed relief. He’d been pent
up since their first encounter, and now that he was getting it, he felt overwhelmed.

Maybelle positioned herself comfortably next to him, propping herself up with her pillows.
“If you need or want anything at all, let me know.” She assured her master. The human
woman fondled her left breast as her right hand moved between her legs, deftly working at
her clitoris. She breathed softly as she started to embrace the feeling.

“Hmm… I could do with a little bit more lubrication. Would you mind terribly if I asked you
to lend a tentacle? Pretty Please?” She shyly smiled. He couldn’t resist that needy voice. He
didn’t even think about whether or not he knew what he was doing. He turned over and
reached his tentacle, encouraging her to move her hand away.

“Perhaps I am a little curious…” Srebral remarked. Maybelle gasped softly when his
tentacle began to rub her sensitive bud.

“Oh yes, just like that…” Maybelle moaned softly, encouraging her master. It wasn’t long
before her legs started to shake. Srebral wondered for a moment if he should stop, but he felt
compelled to continue as Maybelle’s breathing became heavier.

“M-maybelle…” Srebral moaned her name in a gooey voice. He grasped her thigh. He
couldn’t believe how soft she was everywhere. “So soft…”

“Oh yes, Srebral! Hang in there for me!” Maybelle gently held onto one of his tentacles. He
purred from a gentle squeeze. He felt like he was high. He could barely think but he became
daring for the first time in his life.

“Like this…?” Srebral slowly pushed one of his tentacles inside her soaked sex.
“O-on the right t-track..!” Maybelle encouraged, her voice growing shakier. Srebral moaned
as she felt her pussy squeezing his tentacle. He felt his tentacles spasm involuntarily when
Maybelle grabbed that tentacle and began pumping him in and out of herself. His anxiety was
gone, any thoughts of stopping were completely gone.

Through their link she encouraged him mentally. “That’s it! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”
Maybelle mentally begged.

“Can’t stop… I don’t want to stop!” Srebral groaned. His last tentacle gripped one of her
breasts, coiling around one of them and squeezing. Maybelle gently yet firmly rubbed his
tentacle. In the next room over, Brilanna was covering her ears trying to sleep.

“Stupid rothe breasted brat….” The drow grumbled with reddened cheeks.

Maybelle’s eyes rolled back and her breath hitched. Srebral reached his limit. He relinquished
control, self-consciousness, everything in his mind that hurt. He gave it all to Maybelle and in
exchange she gave him relief, confidence and pleasure. Their climax was louder than he
expected and he was left stunned. His gooey voice was faltering. “Mm… Maybelle…” He
weakly draped his tentacles over her. Maybelle was giggling softly as she wrapped her arms
around him.

“That was really nice, Srebral.” She kissed his cheek.

“It was…” Srebral admitted. He wrapped his tentacles around her arm. “Do you…?
Nevermind.” He wondered if his idea was good at all.

“Srebral? You can tell me. I won’t tell.” She tried to encourage him to tell her. He covered his
face lightly with his tentacles.

“Do you want to come to my domicile sometime? I’ll make you dinner. Make dinner for you.
Not turning you into dinner…” He awkwardly asked and clarified.

“You know how to cook? You’re full of surprises.” She smiled. “I’d like that.” She
confessed.

Srebral did indeed know how to cook. He taught Wesmi everything. He never engaged in this
hobby because he had no one to share it with anymore. It was “thrall work” anyway
according to illithids higher than him, but Maybelle made him feel like his hobbies were
amazing gifts. “As soon as my spice shipment comes in. It’s just delayed.” He was certain
that if Trezzir had the gall to show his face in Oryndoll again, he would physically beat that
rogue wizard to death.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll all work out eventually!” She was optimistic. “You’re too smart
not to figure it out.”

“Thanks. I’ve got to leave but that was… Fun.” He slowly pulled away from her but his
tentacles curled happily.

“Goodnight, Srebral.” She was cleaning herself up. “See you tomorrow!” She was
enthusiastic for another day at work!

“Goodnight, Maybelle. See you tomorrow.” He tucked her in and patted her head with a
tentacle. He returned to his domicile with more energy than he normally entered it with.
There was a pep to his step as he walked back to his home.

It was late but when he returned, he pulled out some dusty old tomes to look through later.
Titles such as “Flavors of the Multiverse”, “Underdark Cuisine” and “Boil ‘em, Mash ‘em,
Stick ‘em in a Stew: 30 Best Potato Recipes”. He thought she might like that soup he once
made. He got himself into bed, settling down. For once he went to bed without being
exhausted.

For once Srebral was happy.

 Wreck Me
Chapter Summary

Dallimeze and Caramyn try some new things after he has a bad day at work.

Dallimeze had a bad day at work. Caramyn could always tell, because he entered quietly and
dropped his bag at the door instead of hanging it up. He usually came home in a good mood,
eager for some ripplebark stew and his wife’s attention. So used to bottling that up, his wife
was only just now getting him to open up to her when he was having a bad day. He never
took it out on her, directing his feelings ever inward, as most illithids internalized their
negative emotions.

“Dalli? Did you have a bad day at work?” She asked, getting him his soaking tub ready.

“Fire…” He wondered if it was weird to use that safe word in a non-sexual situation, but she
took it at face value.

“It’s alright. I won’t make you talk about it. I just thought it would make you feel better.” She
assured him. Right on cue he started sharing his pain as soon as he sat in his chair.

“I’ve been in this creed for years and they chose to promote Grosbuks over me!” He sounded
incensed. “They’ve only been at the Vaults of Terror for not even a year! If it wasn’t for the
Creed dinner socials, I wouldn’t fucking work nearly as much as I do. I eat, sleep and shit my
Abysmal Creed devotion. It’s nonsense!” Dallimeze ranted.

Caramyn nodded in understanding, letting him talk. It would give her all the ammunition she
needed to break him down, and strip away that anger. He knew her intent but he couldn’t stop
himself. That fire reduced to smoke.

“I know half of it was all your work but dammit, you deserve some recognition even if it’s
through me! What is my problem? Am I not scary enough?” He started to pick himself apart.

“You’re absolutely pathetic, Dallimeze!” She scolded. The coldness in which she said his
name burned within him, and caused him to let out a blown out breath. “I’m surprised you
even care about being promoted considering how much you love being a bottom bitch at
home. Beneath everyone else is right where you belong, isn’t it?” She teased.
His face started to turn pale. “Look at the hole you left in one of our pillows!” She held up
the damaged pillow as if showing a puppy their bad deeds. “You’re really no better than a
cavveken sometimes. Why should you get promoted?”

“I want to be a better husband and provide for you and our child! I can’t even do that right!”
He confessed. “I haven’t had the time to take you to pick out new ones! You won’t like what I
pick out anyway…” He retorted in a whiny voice.

“Dalli, that’s admittedly really sweet. Seeing you struggle to make me happy is so cute.” She
giggled. “You can’t even go furniture shopping without your wife? Loviatar’s love! You’re
incapable of managing your own home without me!” She smirked at him from her chair. She
was right. He couldn’t cook so he’d only ever eat raw organs and brains without her. He was
just barely passing at most cleaning and chores. He sure as hell had no sense of decorative
taste. He didn’t know the first thing about interior design! Any “normal” illithid might have
gotten angry at being called cute, but his wife’s degrading compliment broke him out of that
tough shell he built around himself all day long.

“I’ll take you shopping tomorrow! I promise!” His tentacles writhed in frustration. He didn’t
want to be aroused! He wanted to be angry! He wanted to bottle it all inside and show it to no
one!

“Oh gee, I want to believe you, but you said that yesterday.”

“Did I…?” His eyes widened in horror. He genuinely didn’t remember making such a
promise.

“You certainly did. Unless you want me to make you remember.” She playfully threatened.
She was really making him go through the trouble of putting his boots back on?!

“God-Brain, damn it! I was so upset about today I completely forgot!” Dallimeze whined. He
levitated out of his foot soaking tub, dried off his feet and pulled on his boots. His gooey
voice was muttering curses in undercommon. Caramyn was able to sell some of her candles
off to a merchant so they could afford to replace the cushions. She recently made a few gold
pieces from the sale of her candles.

The Possessor Creed, with its single vault and small bazaar, were a fairly new addition to the
colony so Dallimeze was able to negotiate a fair rate of half the profits. They had enough to
buy some fabric, even with the marked up prices on surface goods. He’d make his own
pillows just like he did with the last set. It wasn’t hard to lie and say he was making his thrall
do it. “Are you ready to go?” He asked his wife. He had to remind himself mentally over and
over again before leaving not to call Caramyn his wife in public.
“You’re not in uniform.” Caramyn smirked. Dallimeze looked into her mind, confused by
that statement.

“Uniform?? Honey what are you-” His tentacles writhed at what he saw. “Honey! I can’t
wear that in public!” He pleaded in a gooey voice. He backed away from the door nervously
in case anyone passing by would hear.

“Without the collar, no one would see it under your robes.” She suggested. “What’s wrong,
Dalli? Are you such a pathetic pervert that you can’t think normally in leather?” She taunted.

“You really play some dangerous games…” He goes to put on his leather submission outfit
with the backless chaps which he makes sure to securely cover with his robes. He checked
over himself to make sure nothing was obviously sticking out to anyone.

“ No one has to know as long as I don’t think about it, right?” He came back out, hoping it
looked normal.

“Don’t worry. I won’t be that mean. If you think about it, it’ll be your own fault.” She
grinned. Dallimeze took a deep breath putting on his outside persona. It was the mental mask
he showed to the world. Calm, calculated, disciplined. He barely even looked at Caramyn as
she followed him obediently to the bazaar. She was reminded that their marriage was illegal.
She was not to call him her husband. It hurt him to remind her of that every single time.

They made their way to the bazaar. A merchant had ticking fabric in stock. All they had was
fabric in gray with a gray blue stripe down the center. It was mushroom dyed fabric.
Dallimeze’s eyes narrowed at the price, written in qualith. One gold!? 6 months ago it was 9
silver. He sighed. “Pay them for this fabric, thrall. It will be good enough.” He said
dismissively. He then had Caramyn carry the fabric home as well. He tried to think about
work to distract himself on the way home but all it did was anger him once again.

He was angry until he returned home and sat down. He remembered what he was wearing
under his robes. “I can’t believe you made me wear this, Honey!” He covered his face with
his tentacles.

“But Dalli, you wore it so well!” Caramyn teasingly praised him from her chair. “You know
you liked it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have put it on for me.” She taunted. “It’s who you
really are underneath that cold scary mask you show everyone else.” She wasn’t even an
illithid and she was able to get into his head so exquisitely. The fear that everyone would find
out what he was was relieved the instant he was in his domicile. The more she teased him, the
more her seat seemed like a throne. “Tell me what you are, Dalli.” She wanted to hear him
say it. Vebeva forcing him to say he liked eating peasant food gave her some ideas. “With
your voice and kneel before me!” She added.

His face turned pale. He got up from his seat and got on his hands and knees before her. “I’m
pathetic. I’m a horrible, lousy husband. I’m a burden and I’m no good for anything.” He
made his gooey voice as loud as he possibly could. It was barely above a whisper as he
kneels low before her chair. Caramyn convincingly feigns a disappointed expression.

“Is that the best you can do?” She scolded. She gracefully slides out of her seat. She nudges
her boot against his tentacle, threatening to step on it but merely putting pressure. “I suppose
it’s hard for a member of such a proud race to submit…” She grabbed one of his tentacles.
“Yet you let me do whatever I want with you. You’re truly very special, aren’t you?" She
mocked him before bringing his tentacle to her mouth and lightly biting it.

Dallimeze groaned as his wife’s teeth sunk into the supple flesh of his tentacle and panted
softly when she released him. “Can I take off my robes?” He asked. “Please?” He added
quickly. With Caramyn, it was alright to be pathetic. He was safe to be as weak as he wanted
to be. He got to shed that mask he was forced to wear all day. He was an illithid who loved
and cherished his wife. He knew it made him disgusting to his society and yet Caramyn
embraced every part of him.

“No.” She laughed. “You’ll let me pull them off of you.” She instructed. She began pulling at
the sashes that secured his robes in place, loosening them until she pulled them away. She
used one of them as a blind fold, covering his eyes with it. Dallimeze obediently allowed his
wife to pull away his robes, cooperating with her to help her get them off of him. Taking
away his ability to see made him feel so vulnerable.

“Honey, can we try something new?” He worked up the courage to ask. He felt a playful
smack on his bottom that made him jump.

“What is it, Dalli?” She asked.

“How do I put this?” He poked his fingers together. She smacked him harder a few times to
make him spit it out. “Aagh! Fuck my ass! I want you to fuck my ass!” He confessed in his
gooey voice. He whimpered at the way she made him tell her.

“That’s really weird, isn’t it?” He revealed his self consciousness. He didn’t even bother to
read her mind. The suspense of waiting for her to tell him made his heart race and further
excited him. Even if she rejected him, it was a win-win for him.
“Well… That’s quite a confession, Dalli.” She quietly laughed at him. “The cloaca is a highly
sensitive part of an illithid.” She gripped at the slimy skin of his rear, grazing near the hole
without touching it. She was testing him. “I’ll have to admit, you’re pretty brave if you want
me to touch it.” Caramyn praised. “Or you’re so aroused, I’ve made you completely stupid!”
She laughed.

“I’m not hearing any reconsideration so I guess I’ll bring you to the torture lab. Get up.” She
held onto one of his tentacles. He trusted her to guide him, as she tugged him along by the
tentacle. Even then, he had managed to bump into the wall, making a blind embarrassing fool
of himself. “Aw, you poor baby! You look so helpless!” Caramyn’s saccharine voice teased.
“Do you want me to restrain you so you can’t get away?” She asked.

“Yes! Yes, please!” His tentacles wiggled enthusiastically.

“Look through my eyes, Dalli.” She commanded. When he focused on her thoughts and
senses, he saw through her senses. She was looking straight at the restraint device she used
when they had experimented with wax play. The step stool was already there. She was
planning this!

“Oh, you! You’re so sneaky” He eagerly started putting himself into the restraints for her,
letting her secure him into the vice-like configuration of metal bars. She came up with a name
for this device. The Bondage Post. This time she added small platforms so he could rest his
feet a little more comfortably. She didn’t bother restraining his tentacles this time. She
wanted to see his reactions.

“I honestly thought you’d never ask for this.” She smirked as she moved to her box of unused
“tools”. She took out what looked to be a wand made of steel. It had a steel ball at the end of
it, about 30 millimeters in diameter. It looked like a tool one would use to perform a cavity
search.

Dallimeze stopped looking through his wife’s eyes. The suspense of not knowing when she’d
strike only further excited him. He heard the soft creak of the step stool behind him and he
tensed up. He gasps as he feels the cold metal press against his entrance. He let out a pathetic
gooey whimper as it entered him. “Haaaah…! C-Caramyn!” He squirmed against the cold
feeling entering him.

“All I did was stick it in and you’re already starting to go crazy…” She pointed out. “Smoke
or fire?” She checked in on him.

“Ice cold…” He purred. “So good… More! Give me more!”

“You’ll have to beg a little better than that Dalli.” She teasingly tugged on the wand.

“Please please please please! Wreck me! Please!” He enthusiastically begged. His tentacles
were growing even more moist from this treatment. He was practically seeing stars as she
started thrusting the wand in and out of him. Loud purrs and moans came from her husband
as his tentacles writhed uncontrollably.

“Yes! Thank you! Thank you!” His gooey voice gradually became less and less intelligible to
her. His tentacles began to drip onto the floor. He couldn’t even pull the blindfold off because
his tentacles were quivering involuntarily.

“You look so helpless like this. You love being my helpless husband, don’t you, Dalli?” She
pulled the wand out of him so he could answer. He panted, catching his breath.

“Yes!” He was so needy, he couldn’t think about anything else but pleasing his wife to reach
his own climax. He projected this need into her mind. It was powerful, and overwhelming.
She barely resisted being pushed into a lustful daze herself. To Caramyn’s surprise, he was
able to reach his tentacles to the screws keeping his head in place and started loosening
them.

“Gee, Dalli! Alright! Alright!” She laughed. “Let me get you out of there.” She offered. She
slowly removed him from the bondage post. Dallimeze’s tentacles were slimier than she’d
ever seen them. She couldn’t resist wanting to feel them all over her any longer. Dallimeze
practically pounced on her. He couldn’t even wait for her to take her clothes off. She felt his
tentacles snake their way under her dress. There was a visible silhouette of them coiling
around her small perky breasts and wrapping around her body under the deep navy fabric.
“Oh, yes. Take me, Dalli! Use me like a monster!” Caramyn encouraged. This would be the
perfect way for Dallimeze to dominate her if he ever wanted to again. She found she loved it
when her clothes were ruined, messed up, or otherwise destroyed by him.

Caramyn let him pull down her underwear and she found herself eagerly grinding herself
against him. She felt the fabric of her dress growing wetter and starting to cling to her in the
spots where his tentacles frequented most. He carefully pinned her to the cold stone floor
with his arms above her head, towering over her. She did say to use her, after all. Who was he
to disobey his wife? He entered her with surprising gentleness. The writhing mass teased her
clitoris, working to bring them to climax. It all felt like one warm wet mass. Caramyn was
quickly turned into a quivering mess. She gasped as she felt the tip of a third tentacle entering
her rear.

“J-just the tip! Ju-just…!” She loved it just as much as he did. “Oh, fuck! Dalli…” She
quickly had one of the more powerful orgasms she’d ever had. She practically screamed
under him and Dallimeze cried out in unison. The illithid collapsed beside his wife, slowly
pulling his tentacles away.

“Whew… Loviatar’s love…” Caramyn laid there, just as stunned as him.

“We sure did make a mess.” He helped her pull off her wet dress. He finally pulled away his
blindfold. “I can see my handiwork dripping out of you.”

“Eheheh…” Caramyn giggled softly. “You know, it’s actually really nice when you hold me
down.” She admitted. Dallimeze laughed.

“Of course I know you like it. I’m in your head every single time.” He laughed. He held her
close, allowing her to kiss him. He then carried her and gathered a bucket of water, a linen
rag and gentle soap. He held everything in his tentacles as he returned to the torture lab and
started cleaning his wife and himself off. He finally took off the leather outfit.

“Do you want me to wash our clothes?” He asked.

“If you want to. Don’t worry about the leather. I’ll take care of that.” Caramyn knew how to
care for the material better than Dallimeze did. She allowed him to wash her thoroughly. His
touch was gentle and loving.

“Who cares about that stupid promotion anyway? None of them have a wife as good as you.”
Dallimeze finally felt better. She pressed her forehead to his, sending him a tender message.

“Le thiramin nehel.”

 A New Mind's Development
Chapter Summary

Some father and child bonding time! Ellimol teaches Curio how to handle small
animals.

Chapter Notes

Writing German accents is hard.

Ellimol found himself gathering as much knowledge as he could on molding his construct
child, Curio, into a model member of Oryndoll’s society. He wasn’t sure how much of this he
could really apply to a 500 pound, 6’5’’ metallic illithid but he vowed to adapt as best as he
could. When the creed-master of the Creative Creed, Trallazave, came to visit, the ulitharid
that led the creed was highly impressed!

Trallazave was watching the construct play with a tessellation puzzle on the floor. Ellimol
would have a small desk delivered soon so that Curio would have a space to themselves, even
in their small lab. The challenge was finding a chair sturdy enough to hold their metallic
form. “I have to admit they’re quite impressive, Ellimol. They certainly are on par with the
mental development of a newborn illithid. Curio is undoubtedly sapient.” The creed-master
complimented. “I fully agree that their mental development will determine their usefulness to
our colony but should your experiment succeed it would open up all kinds of possibilities. I
will allow you to continue this experiment. It’s quite fascinating.” The ulitharid’s tentacles
writhed in excitement at the possibilities this new construct could bring.

“Danke, Creed-Master Trallazave!” Ellimol was pleased to hear that the creed-master
thought that his creation had potential! “I know it seems odd zat I’ve been gaining child
rearing knowledge for such a unique being, but considering zey have such a childlike wonder
about zee vorld around zem… I had to get vhat I could because zey are no normal newborn.”
He explained his odd choice of lore to the creed-master.
“It doesn’t seem to be a detriment. They’re already expressing creativity at an exponentially
increasing rate.” Trallazave noted. “I want detailed reports about the construct’s progress.”
Trallazave ordered.

“I vill most certainly keep you updated. I’m just as excited as you are to see how zey grow in
mental capacity. Zey have great potential and I’m most glad zat you agree.” Ellimol
wholeheartedly complied. Curio was arranging the puzzle pieces into a structured pattern.
The pieces were five simple shapes composed of four squares each in distinct shades of blue,
green, red and yellow. Curio also had another set of 72 triangles in a variety of sizes and
colors. They were even tackling difficult puzzles given to them by Ellimol with a good
outlook. The hardest puzzles had no words and no clues about what the puzzle was even
about. It often took Curio several hours to figure out what was being asked of them but they
weren’t giving up.

Some of the puzzles didn’t have solutions at all, which was at times frustrating to Curio.
Teaching Curio to cope with unanswerable questions was important to their father. Ellimol
had a method in which if it was too hard, Curio could solve a simpler puzzle in order to get a
hint to the harder puzzle. Since the construct didn’t sleep, their mind needed near constant
engagement outside of the four hours they were stationary. “Oh, and one more thing. I’m
sorry your funding and project with Vebeva didn’t entirely work out.” Trallazave knew he had
“personally offended her”, much to Ellimol’s embarrassment. “We all know that Whim is
quite spoiled but let’s keep our thoughts to ourselves on that matter.” The creed-master
reminded him.

“A-ah, ya… She made zat perfectly clear.” He nodded.

“I look forward to hearing from you. Despite how busy you are, your years of labor are
finally bearing some fruit. Farewell.” Trallazave left Ellimol’s small lab, seemingly happy
with what they saw. Ellimol closed the door behind the creed-master gently.

“Good news, mein child! Zee creed-master likes you!” Ellimol’s tentacles wiggled excitedly.

“I'm glad, father. Being approved of feels nice.” Curio responded. Ellimol only hoped he
wouldn't have to teach his creation about rejection anytime soon. He wanted to do everything
in his power to prevent that.

Although Ellimol was an adult illithid, watching Curio play with puzzles that he had as a
young illithid brought back fond memories. His construct child was taking after him and his
early hobbies. He liked puzzles as well, but was too busy these days to engage with them.
Ellimol had an entire curriculum planned which consisted of science, mathematics, and most
importantly, socialization. Curio seemed to respond positively to doing science experiments
with their creator. They were especially fascinated by physics.
Curio's drive for learning was refreshing to the illithid. Having a mind to mold was different
than dominating one but it was a challenge he willingly embraced. Egar found Curio's near
ceaseless questions to be exhausting and often defaulted to “ask your father.” when trying to
do his own tasks.

“Curio, I need your assistance. Could you put away your puzzle pieces?” Ellimol asked.

“Of course, father. Are we doing another experiment?” Curio began gathering the pieces
from the floor and putting them back in their zurkhwood storage box. The construct stood up
from the floor and neatly put the box up on a shelf.

“Nein. Vee are doing verk.” Ellimol clarified. “I conduct many tests on rats. Remember zee
tank I brought in a few days ago?”

Curio nodded subtly. “I do. I remember you told me not to touch them.” Curio recalls.

“Ya. Zat is because zey needed a few days to adjust to zeir new enclosure. Being carried into
mein lab vas very stressful for zem. Today, I am going to teach you how to properly handle
our test subjects.” Ellimol explained. The purpose of this test was for Ellimol to ensure that
Curio was capable of handling the smallest of creatures gently. The illithid wanted to avoid
any unfortunate accidents on bigger creatures. Curio’s metallic tentacles flexed in
anticipation, eager to learn a new skill.

Despite Ellimol’s aversion to filth and touching other creatures, rats were the one notable
exception for him. Ellimol adored rats. He wished he could keep the creatures as pets after
his experiments, but since they were Creative Creed property, he had to give them back or
euthanize them when he was finished. “Rats are creatures that bond wiz zeir owners. Zey
love to be handled. Rats can even be trained to do a variety of tricks, und unlike other filzy
creatures, zey are actually quite clean and frequently groom zemselves!” Ellimol happily
shared his enthusiasm for these small furry rodents with his metallic child. Curio observed
one of the rats curiously poking their furry little head out of hiding.

“Cute!” Curio pointed out. They were already sharing their father’s enjoyment of these
animals.

Ellimol’s tentacles curled, pleased to see that Curio was enthusiastic. “Now, even zough rats
are so clean, vee should clean our hands und tentacles before und after vee handle zem.
Egar! Get zee soap und vater.” Ellimol cautioned their child on the necessity of cleanliness
before commanding his thrall to get the materials they would need for this experiment. Egar
was quick to follow his master’s order as his owner was a clean freak. Surprisingly, rats were
the only living beings which the illithid didn’t use gloves or other barriers to touch. There
were three rats in this particular enclosure.

Ellimol first gently scrubbed Curio’s hands and tentacles clean. He didn’t want any foreign
dirt from the floor getting into the enclosure, even if he made Egar routinely sanitize
everything in his lab. Much of the thrall's duties included cleaning when he wasn't assisting
his master. Ellimol then washed his own hands and tentacles. Ellimol had once gotten so ill
during a severe case of The Ashen, that even when his psionics recovered, he ended up with a
permanent paler purple hue to his skin. The illithid had gained a strong fear of pathogens ever
since. He rarely left his lab because of it.

“First vee have to examine zee rats because I need to ensure zat zey are all zee same sex. Zey
don’t do a good job at it at zee biolabs.” Ellimol decided to lead by example, putting a treat
in his hand and placing it into the tank. The curious rat scurried over and climbed into his
hand for the treat, allowing Ellimol to pick it up with both hands. “Make sure to use two
hands ven handling rats. Zey need to feel safe and stable to trust you.” Ellimol explained. He
then baby talks to the rat in a gooey voice while gently petting it with a finger.

“Who’s a cute little test subject?? It’s you! Ya it is!” Ellimol praised the rodent.

He could sense curiosity about the subject in his construct child's mind. “zee biology behind
zee topic is quite complex und it is not something zat I'm entirely well versed in. Sex is zee
trait zat determines vether a sexually reproducing organism produces male or female
gametes. Vee vant to ensure zey are all zee same sex so vee don't end up vith baby rats.” He
tried his best to explain. The number of times he's been bitten by an unexpected mother
protecting their young were too many to count so he always took the time to double check
they did it correctly.

“Are illithids sexually reproducing organisms?” Curio asked. Egar snickered at the
construct's question. “Did I say something funny?” Curio sounded slightly concerned.

“Zere is no such zhing as a stupid question, mein child. No, vee are asexually reproducing
organisms. Mind flayers lay eggs in zee brine pool zat houses our elder brain. I've already
laid mein eggs. Mind flayers lay eggs once or twice during zeir lives.” Ellimol explained. He
allowed the rat to get comfortable in his hands.

“Some of them act like sexually reproducing organisms.” Egar muttered.

“Egar! Zat is not an appropriate zhing to say in front of Curio!” Ellimol scolded. Egar
flinched and went back to cleaning. Curio tilted their head wondering what that was about.
“I'll explain it to you ven you are much older. You are too young to know about zat right
now.” He said. Curio seemed satisfied with not knowing for now. “Let's begin by examining
zis one.” Ellimol begins to instruct Curio on what to do.

“Hold zee rat gently but firmly around zee shoulders viz a tentacle. Zis prevents zee rat from
struggling or biting. Support zee hind quarters und veight viz your hand. Small animals are
fragile und you are very capable of breaking bones so you must be very careful. Many
creatures are capable of feeling pain and rats are no exception.” Ellimol begins. Curio had
another question.

“What is pain?” The construct asked. They could not feel pain. They could in theory
simulate it by linking to their father, but Ellimol would not inflict such a feeling upon their
child unless absolutely necessary for the greater good of their development.

“Pain is a distressing feeling often caused by intense or damaging stimuli. It’s unpleasant to
flesh und blood creatures like me or zese rats, so you should try to avoid causing pain to our
test subjects by not squeezing too hard.” Ellimol explained. Curio now understood that pain
was bad.

When Curio’s body was intended for Ellimol, he had tiny pressure plates within the hands
and tentacles that would have allowed him to get an idea of how hard he was squeezing
something. They worked quite well, so he had little reason to worry about his child, but a
reminder didn’t hurt. “To restrain a rat for sexing, gently tilt zee rat backwards, continuing to
hold und support zee animal’s body. Place your zhumb und index finger of zee hand
supporting zee hind quarters on zee medial aspect of each hindleg. As seen here. Zis rat is
male. In a male rat, large testes are visible. Zee anal-genital distance is long compared to a
female. Female rats have visible nipples and males do not.” Ellimol explained. He then
gently put the rat down, giving it a gentle pet for being a good test subject during their
examination.

“What makes the illithids in the biolabs inadequate at this task?” Curio asked.

"Male rats are able to retract zeir testicles, particularly if zey are younger animals or if zey
are cold, frightened or unwell. It is an evolutionary defense mechanism in order to protect
zeir reproductive organs. Zis can cause someone less attentive zan me to mistakenly identify a
male rat as female.” Ellimol explained. If it weren’t for his fear of disease, he would have
worked with the rats in the biolabs. He loved learning about the psychology experiments they
did and wished he could participate more directly.
Curio’s father helped them examine the next rat. The illithid held his breath, ready to stop the
construct if he heard any distress from the animal. To Ellimol’s surprise, Curio mimicked him
perfectly. They were able to pick the next rat up as gently as he had. The rat seemed to take
right to Curio and they followed their father’s instructions to the letter. “This is another male,
right?” Curio asked for affirmation.

“Ya! Vell done, mein child! I picked a time ven zey would be sleepy so zey would be easier to
examine, so let’s put zem down so zey can go back to sleep, ya?” Ellimol had explained that
sleep was important to the cognitive health of other creatures very early on so that Curio
would not disturb him or Egar when they were trying to rest. Curio obliged and put the rat
down as gently as they had picked them up. Ellimol would examine the final rat, which put
up no fight at all to being picked up. This one seemed quite well socialized already and even
better still, it was male like all the other ones. “One last zhing to remember. Never pick a rat
up by zee tail. Rats are capable of degloving zeir tails as a defense mechanism. Zat kind of
injury leaves zee exposed area open to infection.” Ellimol explained.

“I understand. I do not wish to cause pain or illness to the rats. I will be very careful with
them.” Curio affirmed.

Ellimol thoroughly washed his hands and Curio’s after putting the rats in their enclosure. He
was very proud of Curio’s performance during this test and was considering giving the
construct more responsibilities as they grew in understanding of the world around them.

“If you vould like to go back to playing viz your puzzles, you may do so. I appreciate your
assistance. You did very vell, mein child.” Ellimol gave Curio a gentle pat on the shoulder
with a tentacle.

“I think I will. Thank you, father.” Curio figured they might tackle some of those difficult
wordless problems again. Ellimol had to document the results of this test and he retreated to
his study. He called this experiment “A New Mind’s Development.”
 We Actually Have to be Quiet This Time
Chapter Summary

Raphraxus can't seem to keep his tentacles off of Syllan prior to eating dinner with the
in-laws.

Syllan shut the door behind him after letting Raphraxus in. “So… What do you think of my
family?” Syllan asked.

“They’re… Interesting? I knew you had great power in your family but I didn’t think I would
get to meet the source of it!” Raphraxus admitted with a jovial tone to their voice. “Your
parents seem like tolerant people, even if they were a little apprehensive about me. I think I
like your family.” Raphraxus said. Raphraxus looked around the room. It was clearly
decorated with love and care. The ceiling was painted with leaves, flowers and birds.

“My mom painted the ceiling.” Syllan said with a smile.

“Elves are renowned for their art and your mother is no exception. It’s beautiful.” Raphraxus
complimented. The room was lit by a chandelier which had a continual light spell cast on it.
That was a gift from his grandfather. The light was warm without being too bright. The
curtains and the bedding were green, matching the color of Syllan’s scales. “It’s so… You.”
Raphraxus absentmindedly started looking through drawers.

“You’re really nosy, aren’t you?” Syllan pointed out his behavior.

“I don’t have a nose.” Raphraxus pointed out. He was merely playing coy.

“You know what I meant!” Syllan groaned. Raphraxus laughed in response.

“What? Is there something you don’t want me to see?” Raphraxus teased. “I suppose I’m
rather inquisitive. Before I met you, I was actually trying to become a vigileater. I didn’t win
the election, of course.” Raphraxus revealed.

“Those are your security officers, right? Which branch were you trying to get elected to?”
Syllan asked.

“Military Offense and Defense.” The ulitharid responded.

“That sounds about right.” Syllan smirked, allowing the prying aberration to snoop through
his things. To his knowledge, he didn’t have anything to hide.

A gentle knock on the door was followed by his father’s voice. “Syllan?”

“Yes?” Syllan responded.

“So uh, does your uh, boyfriend eat anything other than brains for dinner? I don’t think we
can accommodate his diet.” Ordan inquired.

“He doesn’t have to eat only humanoid brains! He can also eat livers, hearts and other organs
from animals… Ask Great Grandfather. He can figure it out.” Syllan offered his advice. His
father was a vegetarian so the consumption of other creatures wasn't Ordan's culinary forte. A
dragon, however, probably knew how to feed Raphraxus.

“Alright then, son!” Ordan laughed a bit nervously. “Ardocronth brought a deer in for dinner
earlier today. I'm sure it'll be fine. Does he have any uh, preferences?” Ordan pondered
aloud.

“Not really. I actually can't taste without linking to your son's senses anyway. I'm sure your
cooking will be nourishing either way.” Raphraxus responded. Ordan was a bit startled by the
voice in his mind, and the concept of tasting food through someone else was strange but he
would accept it for Syllan.

“Alright. We'll get started on dinner!” Ordan announced.

“Thanks, dad!” Syllan expressed his appreciation.

“Your father thinks I'm a freak.” Raphraxus told Syllan.

“Mom said he got that way around great grandfather too. He'll get used to you. Dad never
went adventuring or anything. He's a florist.” Syllan explained.

“Your mother fell in love with a commoner? How scandalous!” Raphraxus was surprised.

“Grandpa and Grandma on my mom's side stopped talking to her over it.” Syllan revealed.

“But the massive green dragon is fine with it?” Raphraxus mused.

“I think that's partially because of me. That, and Great Nan insists on visiting us once per
decade.” The half-elf explained.
“I think I can guess who the conqueror of that relationship is…” Raphraxus joked. The
thought of a petite human woman forcing a powerful dragon to visit the in-laws was funny to
him. The aberration noticed an unmarked wooden box about 10 inches by 5 inches by 3
inches. He curiously opened it and what greeted him was a leather collar and a strap on dildo
made of glass. It was green and looked much like a vine but it was almost tentacle-like in
shape. Raphraxus pulled the sexual paraphernalia out of the box, holding the dildo by a strap.
“Care to explain this?” His tentacles curled and flexed at the golden opportunity to tease
Syllan.

“Ack!” Syllan’s face slowly started turning red. He could only answer mentally. “I swear I
forgot about that! I haven't looked at that in years! My former girlfriend made that. I was
embarrassed about getting caught throwing it away! So I just kind of buried it…” Syllan tried
to explain.

“Is it a sore subject?” Raphraxus asked. As much as he enjoyed embarrassing and teasing
Syllan for his reactions, he didn't want to actually hurt his feelings.

“I went adventuring and she didn't want to come with me so we just grew apart. It wasn't an
ugly breakup.” Syllan assured his lover.

“So…. I guess glass wasn’t the only thing she was blowing.” Raphraxus joked.

“Other way around…” Syllan’s face turned completely red, admitting he always gave oral
and never received.

“I knew you had strong submissive tendencies but this certainly explains a lot of things!”
Raphraxus teased. “I have to wonder what would happen if I used this…” Raphraxus’
tentacles curled smugly as he stared at Syllan.

“Aww geeze… Raph…” Syllan whispered. “Come on. Don’t look at me like that…”

“How long do you suppose we’ll have before dinner is served?” Raphraxus asked.

“I-I don’t know… Maybe 45 minutes? An hour?” He responded quietly. Raphraxus was
trying to gauge if Syllan thought they would have enough time.

“You seem to think that’s enough time, with some to spare?” Raphraxus continued his
proposition.

“Well… Alright, but we actually have to be quiet this time.” Syllan muttered, softly biting his
lip. Raphraxus pulled Syllan close with his tentacles and toned arms. Syllan gasped softly. He
was often surprised by how much reach Raphraxus had with his tentacles.

“Oh come on, you should be used to this by now.” He playfully scolded Syllan.

“Maybe I don’t want to get used to it.” Syllan thought.

“Well that’s a rather bold thought. Let’s see how bold you are when I put this on you.”
Raphraxus placed the leather collar on Syllan’s neck, making sure it was loose enough to slip
a tentacle under. The collar had scalloped edges with metallic button embellishments that
looked like large suns surrounded by circles of stars. Syllan felt his loins stir in his pants just
from that. “If I knew you enjoyed collars so much, I would have gotten you one made of gold,
but these sort of things are for thralls. I’m surprised you like it so much.” Raphraxus
pondered.

“I don’t know why I like it. I just do…” Syllan muttered.

“It makes you feel safe and loved, doesn’t it?” Raphraxus tenderly rubbed a tentacle against
Syllan’s lips. The half-elf licked and kissed his tentacle. Perhaps it wasn’t merely about
ownership. It wasn’t something the ulitharid had considered before, but he accepted and
embraced it.

“That sounds about right.” Syllan agreed softly.

Raphraxus figured the bed wouldn’t hold up to what they were about to do. He noticed a
large bear skin rug spread across the floor. That would do. Syllan allowed Raphraxus to lay
him down on the rug and pull off his clothing with his tentacles. He cooperated with the
tentacles tugging at his clothes, helping his lover to take them off. The ulitharid then pulled
off his own robes. “Turn over for me.” He grabbed a pillow from Syllan’s bed with
telekinesis so he could get comfortable. Syllan propped himself up with the pillow, holding
onto it tightly. He eagerly bent over for his large aberrant lover. Raphraxus puts the harness
onto himself and begins rubbing his tentacles on the glass dildo to lubricate it.

“Raph. You’re going to destroy me…” There wasn’t any fear in Syllan’s thoughts or tone. It
was actually quite eager. Raphraxus’ dark laughter resounded in his mind.

“It doesn’t sound like you’re complaining. You want me to use you.” Raphraxus pointed out.
He knelt behind Syllan and wrapped his tentacles around his waist and thighs. Syllan tensed
in anticipation and sighed pleasurably when he felt warm and wet tentacles caressing his
manhood and rubbing against his ass. Raphraxus slowly entered him and the half elf pressed
his face against the pillow, whimpering softly.

“Mmph…!”

Raphraxus sharply exhaled from Syllan's pleasure. Perhaps being quiet was more of a
challenge that they both thought. “We're barely getting started and you're already making
noise. What am I going to do with you?” He teased Syllan. He wrapped two of his tentacles
around Syllan's mouth and neck, making sure that he could breathe comfortably in the
process. “Bite down as hard as you need to. You know I can take it.”

Syllan nodded silently in understanding to the best of his ability. Raphraxus wondered to
himself if he even really knew how to do this. With their size differences, it wouldn't be easy.
He towered over Syllan. Playing humanoid was an extra challenge he hadn't considered when
he could easily overcome it with his tentacles. He continued pushing a tentacle into Syllan at
an agonizingly slow pace. Was there any harm in admitting he didn't know? “I'm having
difficulty working out the logistics of this. Do you have any suggestions?” Raphraxus asked
his partner. Syllan laid prone on his stomach. The thought of Raphraxus towering over him,
restraining him with the sheer force of his body and tentacles excited the sorcerer.

“An excellent suggestion…” Raphraxus praised Syllan. He decided to just go for it.
Raphraxus slowly entered the half-elf with the toy. “No wonder you could take me so easily.
You had prior training. I can't believe you were able to hide that from me.” He started out
awkwardly at first, trying to get a feel for it. He knew he had the strength and stamina to
practice until he got it right. Syllan began to softly bite down on his tentacle, eliciting a
growling purr from the aberration. The half-elf’s eyes rolled back, and Raphraxus shared in
his enjoyment of this rough treatment. “Look at the primal things you make me do…”
Raphraxus lustfully taunted his lover.

“Mmmph!? Me!? It was… your… Idea!” Syllan was struggling to think between muffled
moans.

“Who put those ideas there?” Raphraxus pointed out.

Syllan bit down a bit harder on the supple and slimy flesh in his mouth. There was only one
thought in his mind that proved the ulitharid's point. “Harder!” He begged. Raphraxus
obliged, quickening his pace. Every thrust emptied Syllan's mind. He realized he was starting
to drool on his lover's tentacle and couldn't stop himself. Raphraxus was starting to lose
control of himself as well. His tentacled grip tightened on Syllan, wrapping around his arms
and chest. His tentacles were dripping, marking the sorcerer as his. The sorcerer felt the buff
ulitharid’s breath against him. Yar'rel was sure to get upset by the smell of vanilla and garlic
but Raphraxus couldn't be bothered to care. The wet slapping of flesh against flesh grew
more audible.

Their minds tugged at one another, and Raphraxus was getting sucked into Syllan's
thoughtless desire for pleasure. Even if he acted like he was in charge, Raphraxus knew well
that they influenced each other. The aberration leaned into it, giving up the mental tug of war
that they played. He let Syllan pull him in. If he'd been foolish enough to use the bed, it
probably would have been broken by now.
Syllan was completely at the mercy of the aberration using him. He gripped the rug, letting
out muffled whimpers as he grew desperate for relief. Raphraxus wrapped a tentacle around
his shaft to keep Syllan from making a complete mess of the rug. At least illithid slime was
fairly easy to clean from most surfaces and the scent dissipated within a few hours.

“Cum for me, little dragon… Give it to me!” Raphraxus’ gooey voice grew desperate and
demanding. He held Syllan close to him, and picked up the pillow, biting into it to muffle
himself.

Syllan let out a muffled whine, releasing into the tentacle coiled around his cock. The way
Raphraxus growled as he shared his orgasm only deepened his pleasure. He slowly pulled out
of Syllan and pulled him into a hug. Syllan kissed the ulitharid's forehead tenderly and leaned
against him. Raphraxus removed the strap on harness, sliding it off of him as he stood. He
carried Syllan to the bed and gently set him down. The aberration tried spooning with him to
see if he could even fit on the bed.

“I had a feeling I wouldn't fit…” He said. The only way he could fit was by curling up, which
left virtually no room for Syllan.

“Damn. Don't worry. We'll figure something out. Even if I have to sleep on the floor with
you.” Syllan assured him. Raphraxus noticed Syllan's bite mark on one of his tentacles.

“Oh, you did get a bit of retribution here, didn't you?” He chuckled. With a towel, he started
to dry Syllan off.

“Aw gee, I didn't hurt you did I?” Syllan asked.

“Not at all! Yar'rel did worse than this.” Raphraxus ruffled his blond hair. Syllan sat up and
held his lover's hand.

“We should see about getting you some extra blankets.” Syllan suggested. Raphraxus helped
Syllan out of the cramped bed. The two of them pulled their clothes on and went downstairs.
He went to the backyard where his friends were setting up their tents. The aberration stayed
inside so no outsiders would see him. “Raphraxus can't fit in my bed. Do we have any extra
blankets?” Syllan asked.

“As usual, I think of everything.” Phoebe smirked. “We bought your boyfriend a large bed
roll.” She said.

“Here! Catch!” Zarimm got his attention and tossed it to him. Unfortunately, Zarimm could
not throw it very far, and Syllan’s attempt to catch it was equally as pathetic. Syllan
awkwardly walked over to pick it up off the ground. Raphraxus genuinely wondered how
these people have managed to survive thus far.

Syllan walked back inside with the bedroll and handed it to Raphraxus. “Don’t call attention
to it. Act normal… You forgot to take off your collar.” Raphraxus pointed out. Syllan’s face
turned red.

“You let me walk out with it on purpose!” Syllan mentally accused.

“You can think what you want, but I assure you it wasn’t intentional! Besides, everyone seems
to think it’s some kind of fashion statement! Nobody cares that you’re wearing it!” Raphraxus
playfully poked his cheek. “It does look really good on you…” He admitted.

“Thanks…” Syllan thought shyly. If no one was none the wiser, he saw no reason he couldn’t
keep it on.

Raphraxus’ bed roll was set up next to Syllan’s bed so that Raphraxus could at least hold
Syllan’s hand with a tentacle while they slept. “It almost feels like a microcosm, Syllan. The
thought of waking up with you and staying with you. Is this real?” He pondered. He then felt
a pinching sensation on his tentacle. “Ouch! What did you do that for!?” Raphraxus glared at
Syllan.

“I-it’s a human thing! Y-you haven’t heard the phrase uh, ‘Pinch me, I’m dreaming’?” Syllan
waved his arms defensively.

“No…? I certainly didn’t ask you to pinch me! Although, I think I understand why… If it were
a microcosm, I wouldn’t have felt that. Thank you.” His tentacles curled gently.

“Syllan! Dinner!” Ordan called upstairs.

“Coming!” Syllan acknowledged. “Are you coming to join us?” Syllan held Raphraxus’
hand. “I’d like you to be a part of my family…” He smiled.

“Will they be alright with it?” Raphraxus asked, allowing Syllan to lead him along by the
hand.

“Raphraxus, I started sneezing chlorine gas as a child and you think they can’t handle you?”
He smirked.

“I suppose you make a good point…” Raphraxus and Syllan seated themselves across from
Great Grandfather Ardocronth and Great Nan Bathilde. Yar’rel was going to sit closer to
Syllan but upon smelling the smell of ghaik, she reconsidered and sat as far away from him
as she could. Phoebe volunteered instead. There were deer steaks for those that ate meat and
for the vegetarians, roasted turnips and mushrooms. Raphraxus’ plate consisted of the deer’s
liver, cooked and topped with onions.

“Dad, I told you, he’s carnivorous! He can’t eat onions.” Syllan pointed out.

“It’s fine. They have no nutritional value but they are harmless to me. He was only trying to
make me feel included. Thank you, Ordan.” Raphraxus gracefully handled it. Mind Flayers
almost never used silverware but he knew that he wouldn’t fit in if he didn’t.

“Do you want to taste mine?” Syllan offered. He was eating some deer steak.

“I don’t see why not.” Raphraxus formed a taste link with Syllan. It was unfortunately
overcooked. “I prefer my meat on the more rare side…” He lamented.

“Sorry, Raphraxus. I cooked that a bit longer than I wanted to.” Ordan smiled nervously.

“Can I try yours?” Syllan asked. Raphraxus slid his plate closer to Syllan. He stabbed a bite
with his fork and gave it a try. It was deliciously flavorful and tender to both of them. “Dad,
this is really good!”

“Your cooking is superb, Mr. Veg.” Raphraxus complimented.

“Thank you. He seems quite polite, Syllan. I’m sorry for doubting your judge of character,
son.” Ordan relented.

Zarimm interrupted. “Don’t get me wrong, we’re all weirdos here, but Syllan’s got a good
head on his shoulders. We all make sure that it stays there.” He grinned. Syllan glanced at
Ardocronth and he had the most disappointed expression on his face imaginable. His Great
Grandfather had a deep frown before pinching the bridge of his nose and subtly shaking his
head. Raphraxus’ tentacles subtly twitched under the table as he tried not to laugh. Out of
nervousness or foolhardiness, he couldn’t be sure.

“Oh no! He knows what that collar is!” Raphraxus glanced back at Ardocronth and the
dragon in elven form made eye contact with Raphraxus as he started eating his plate.

“Oh, Ardy!” Bathilde lightly slapped his arm. “Stop that! You’ll literally eat them out of
house and home!”

“It sure is nice having the family together for dinner again…” Valora absentmindedly
commented.

“I know you can read my thoughts! If you ruin that boy’s life, I’m going to hunt you to the
ends of whatever cavern you cram yourself into!” He threatened mentally.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, sir. I hope to be his most precious treasure. He is more important to
me than my own colony. That is far from an easy thing for anyone to achieve.” Raphraxus
responded calmly. A small puff of green smoke flared from Ardoconth’s nostrils of his elven
disguise.

“I will hold you to that.” The green dragon promised.

“You reserve the right to do what you must, should I do something so foolish.” Raphraxus
shared his plate with Syllan, eating from the same plate. He wouldn’t hide his feelings for
Syllan from anyone ever again. He didn’t have to be quiet anymore.
 The Path to Gold
Chapter Summary

Vizaness has a threesome with her thralls while Oceana gets off on watching. Presmer's
future as an escort is uncertain but hopeful.

Vizaness was impressed with Presmer's performance in her last training with him. Although
he lacked endurance, the way he reacted to illithids was a big indicator that the human would
make an excellent personal escort if she could mold his confidence. It was a secret service
that they offered to illithids that were curious about experiencing pleasure with a thrall more
directly, but didn’t want to touch their own thralls. Maybelle would have ended up as a
personal escort but she loved keeping busy. It's not as if being a bath attendant stopped her
from being “socialized”.

She'd been keeping tabs on Maybelle and was pleased that she seemed to be getting along
very well with Srebral. It was only a matter of time before she'd get a glowing review from
him. Her assessments in pairing thralls to new masters were almost never wrong. Despite his
unglamorous position at the Skull Cup, Vizaness could recognize that it was an important one
that allowed the vigileaters to gather intelligence from the free range thralls. Srebral was on
the verge of an exile if he couldn't keep a personal thrall without eating them out of stress or
anger.

The colony didn't need to scramble to fill his position on top of the spice shortage. It was all
the thralls were talking about. In order to prevent a riot, the elder concord encouraged the
ulitharids to aquiesce and donate the supplies they had. She imagined Vebeva was most
unhappy of all, but today wasn't about that spoiled bully, or anyone else. In order to be
accepted as a personal escort, Presmer needed to gain the approval of A Breeder Named
Slisskbax. The festhall owner and creed-master was the largest hurdle to getting new escorts
added to the roster. He was highly discerning and his rejection would be damaging to her
very ego.

Oceana was already proving to be a valuable thrall in giving advice in these matters. The
water genasi reasoned that if Presmer were able to handle Kalamash, the human would be
able to handle nearly anything thrown at him. Vizaness wasn't sure how true that was, but it
probably wouldn't hurt to test that theory. Oceana herself proved to be someone who
appreciates beauty. She was an artist who painted in the medium of water color paint. She
was also interested in maintaining her own beauty, a hobby which Vizaness found to be more
expensive than she thought, but she considered it an investment.

Vizaness also learned that Oceana was a voyeur. She of course would participate to please her
mistress, but she loved watching more than anything. Oceana was a young woman with
plenty of time left in her prime breeding years. Why shouldn't Vizaness take her time to find
the perfect mate for her? No law said she couldn't have her fun with her prize thrall in the
meantime. Her “unique perspective” was interesting to Vizaness when she wasn't busy
putting her tentacles on her. Vizaness would bring her along since it was her idea.

“Presmer, Vizaness wants you for another training session. She's got you training with
Kalamash today.” Valdran informed him. “Good luck! It was nice knowing you!” He joked
with a sneer. Presmer looked positively anxious.

“Don't tell him that!” Elzaphir scolded the hobgoblin. “Presmer, I've taken him before. He's
really not unpleasant. Valdran's just messing with you again. Our mistress would never allow
you to come to harm.” The drow reassured him.

“I'm a ladies man and top breeding stock! You'll never catch me under that big lug willingly.”
Valdran said. “Seriously though, good luck, honorary Golden Boy.” He slapped Presmer on
the back. “You're a braver man than me…” He muttered.

“Th-thanks…” Presmer acknowledged. He got himself ready. Vizaness didn't bother grabbing
his leash this time.

“It's good to see you again, Presmer!” Vizaness greeted him enthusiastically, ruffling his
hair. Presmer blushed, smiling softly.

“I'm happy to see you too, Mistress.” He looked at Kalamash and Oceana.

“Hi, Presmer!” Kalamash gave him a friendly smile.

Oceana leaned in close. “We're going to have so much fun.” She whispered with a
mischievous grin. Presmer’s face grew redder from the platinum thrall’s words.

“Nervous?” Vizaness asked.

“No, Mistress!” Presmer denied.

“You should know you can’t lie to me.” She giggled. She rubbed her tentacle against his lips.
He felt a compulsion to lick it and his mistress pulled away before he could. “Not yet.” She
teased him. Presmer felt himself growing excited at the prospect of her pleasuring him. He
followed her eagerly to the Breeding Pen’s back rooms.

Vizaness lightly pinched the human’s warm cheek. “There’s no pressure if Kalamash isn't
your cup of tea. All I ask is that you relax and do your best for me. Oceana’s merely here to
observe. You’ll get my help again.” Vizaness worked on calming his anxious mind. As she
spoke, she undressed him with her hands and tentacles. Oceana got herself comfortable in a
chaise lounge, watching them. “Take off my robes, Presmer.” Vizaness commanded. The
human didn’t hesitate to obey her command, carefully removing the fabric from her. He
folded it up neatly and set it aside. “Well done!” She praised Presmer. She looked to see
Kalamash had wasted no time pulling off his clothes and getting into the moss bed.

She brought Presmer into bed with her and gently levitated into Kalamash’s lap. He eagerly
embraced her, kissing her chest and shoulder lovingly. Presmer followed his lead and she
embraced her thralls, laughing with a soft gooey voice. Their hands were all over her, rubbing
her back and thighs. She leaned into it, resting her head on Kalamash’s shoulder as she
reached down and started jerking off Presmer. “Kalamash really likes kisses.” She gave
Presmer a hint. The human man leans in and kisses Kalamash on the lips. Their kiss quickly
became passionate as Kalamash held his mistress close. This was already off to a great start.
Oceana slowly began to touch herself, enjoying the passionate scenery.

If she could show Presmer that he had nothing to fear from Kalamash, she could get him to
do nearly anything. “Kalamash… Would you like Presmer to kiss you down there?” She
asked temptingly.

“Uh-huh…” He agreed.

“You know… Kalamash is so big, we could share.” She suggested. “You won’t be able to take
it all anyway. Not without training, of course.” She encouraged Kalamash to lay back as she
brought herself to his side and coiled her tentacle around his member. Presmer slowly took
the tip of the half-orc’s cock into his mouth, looking at his mistress for approval. She purred
with pleasure as she linked to her favorite thrall’s thoughts. “Good boy…” She praised.
Kalamash ran his fingers through Presmer’s hair. She moaned softly as she tapped into
Kalamash’s senses. The sensation of the tentacle paired with Presmer’s mouth slowly taking
him deeper gave the half-orc a sense of bliss. He gagged himself on Kalamash’s cock trying
to take as much as he could. “I love sharing with you.” She giggled. Presmer gave a shy
smile in response.

“Don’t worry. Elzaphir can train you in the art of deepthroating. Some illithids really like to
stick their tentacles down there so you’re going to need it.” She advised him.
“You think I could be an escort? Like Kalamash?” Presmer was surprised! Such things in
Oryndoll were tolerated behind closed doors. Not something to be spoken about openly by
the illithids but the thralls in the escort positions often held it in high regard. It was quite a
prestigious position for a thrall to be in.

“Oh, you’ve definitely got the enthusiasm for it. Your willingness to learn is apparent to me.
If you stick to your training regimen, you’ll be serving illithids in no time.” Vizaness said.

“He’s really cute, Mistress. I think he can make it to gold.” Oceana adds. She was taking her
time, not wanting to finish too early.

Vizaness’ confidence in him only helped Presmer relax more. “Now, I know Kalamash looks
intimidating, but that’s why I’m going to help you. You just need a bit of warm up stretching.”
She keeps Kalamash occupied by slowly stroking him with one tentacle, while another one of
her tentacles snaked it’s way to Presmur’s ass, rubbing against the entrance. He felt her
probing into his thoughts, checking for any discomfort. “O-oh…!” It was surprising, but it
felt a lot like the time he let Elzaphir lick him there. It was incredibly pleasant.

“You have a little experience after all? Well we’re off to a good start.” Vizaness’ breathing
grew a bit heavier with his.

“Do uh… Illithids like this too?” Presmer asked. He reasoned that they had to have
something there. How else did they go to the bathroom?

“A good question… Most normally don’t because it’s really sensitive. The cloaca should
never ever be touched without explicit permission! It’s a good way for a thrall to get injured
or worse.” Vizaness warned. “Although… A rare few really like it. Kalamash, do you think
you could touch me there, gently?” She instructed Kalamash. She wanted to give it a try and
although she liked Presmer, she trusted Kalamash more. Kalamash reached over with his
hand, gently rubbing the area. She let out a purr that turned into a gooey moan. “That’s so
good…!” She slowly started pushing her tentacle into Presmer, and retreated at the first sign
of discomfort, going back to rubbing. The mix of pain and pleasure made it hard for her to
focus, but she was keyed into Presmer’s boundaries.

“If it hurts, or feels… Uncomfortable- hnnh! Let me know…” She felt herself getting slimier
as she stroked Kalamash faster. It was exactly what Presmer needed to be sufficiently
lubricated. Kalamash slowly stuck his finger in, thrusting the tip of it in and out of his
mistress. “Eep!” She involuntarily pushed herself deeper into Presmer, causing him to cry
out.

“Fuck!” She whimpered in a gooey voice. She hadn’t meant to hurt him but as she pulled
back it started to feel really good for both of them. “S-stop! Mercy!” She begged Kalamash,
who promptly obeyed.
“Sorry, Mistress. Did I hurt you?” Kalamash asked as she caught her breath.

“Oh no, I’m fine! I just needed a little break.” She pulled herself out of Presmer slowly.
“And how’s our trainee doing?” She pressed her forehead to his, giving him a comforting
nudge.

“Pretty good. I know you didn’t mean to startle me like that.” He had no ill feelings towards
her at all. He was starting to feel good once again as she stroked his semi-soft member back
into hardness.

“I think I want to try something new… Kalamash is far too big for this job but you might be
just right.” Vizaness said. Presmer was confused at first. She looked at Oceana. “I hope
you’re enjoying the experimental performance.” Her tentacles curled.

“I very much am.” She moaned softly as she watched them intently, rubbing herself more
vigorously. Vizaness propped her butt up with some pillows and laid back, spreading her
legs.

“I want you to try putting your cock inside me. Go very slowly. I’ve never done this before…
Kalamash, you can try fucking Presmer if he’ll let you.” Their mistress instructed. Vizaness
didnt’ want Kalamash to feel left out, after all. Presmer’s movements were awkward at first
but Vizaness used her tentacles to guide him. She gasped as he slowly filled her up. She
whimpered and purred as he laid on top of his mistress, kissing her tentacles passionately.
“Mmnh…” Vizaness’ purred approvingly.

“F-feels good. You’re so soft…” Presmer held her as he kissed her neck. Vizaness giggled in
a gooey voice as she held him gently.

Kalamash smiled as he prepared to enter Presmer from behind. He was still nice and slippery
from Vizaness’ attention. The two of them began moaning in unison as Kalamash slid his
girthy cock inside of the human man. He started to thrust and it didn’t take long for Vizaness
to tell him to go harder. The half-orc’s thrusts pushed the human man’s cock deeper inside of
her. “Oh f-fuck! Oh God-Brain yes!!” She began losing control of herself as she wrapped her
tentacles around Presmer. Presmer began thrusting on his own volition, sandwiched between
his mistress and Kalamash, there was no escape. She grabbed Presmer’s ass, giving a firm
squeeze to the human’s cheeks. “Oh yes!” She started to laugh. Her pleased giggles became
unintelligible gurgled noises.

Presmer loved the reactions he was getting out of her. He reached behind him, grabbing
Kalamash’s firm and toned ass. He subtly invited him deeper. “F-fuck me! Fuck me please!”
He begged.
“Yes!!” Vizaness’ mind reverberated with pure pleasure and need. Kalamash pushed Presmer
down and pounded his needy hole. Vizaness let out shaky, high pitched moans which gave
way to more laughter. She quickly became a dripping mess as she was pinned beneath both of
her thralls. She felt him getting close. “Pull out!” She commanded. She didn’t think it would
be fun to have to clean herself out. Kalamash pulled him back, continuing to pound into him
while Vizaness eagerly pumped his cock with her tentacle. Presmer let out a loud and long
moan as he spilled his load onto his mistress’ stomach.

Kalamash continued using Presmer as Vizaness laid there shivering pleasurably. “K-
kalamaa…!” She couldn’t get him to stop even if she wanted to. As long as Presmer was
enjoying himself, she was too. She heard Oceana orgasm, squirting onto the chaise. “C-cum
in me! Cum in me!” Presmer begged Kalamash. Vizaness finally pulled herself out of
Presmer’s thoughts when she felt the half-orc filling her thrall’s ass with his cum. Relief at
last…

“You’re lucky that it's made of leather!” Vizaness playfully scolded Oceana. “You know
you’re cleaning this mess up, right? You’re technically on duty so I have to make you do
something.” She levitated herself between Kalamash and Presmer, settling in between them.
She hugged Kalamash and wrapped two of her tentacles around Presmer’s arm as he spooned
her. The qualith locked door opened and Zusrall showed up with his thrall.

“Enjoying your pretty playthings, Vizaness?” Zusrall smugly asked.

“This room was clearly marked as occupied!” Vizaness’ face turned pale as she peeked up
from her little cuddle pile of thralls.

“And? I knew it was you who reserved it. I didn’t think you’d care if I took a little peek at
what you were up to.” Zusrall mentioned.

“If you must know, I’m training Presmer!” She said.

“Oh yes. It sure sounded like it was going well. My thrall could hear you quite well.” Zusrall
teased her. Vizaness squealed softly.

“I don’t see what you’re trying to gain out of getting a rise out of me… I have to be hands on
when trying to add a new thrall to the escort roster. That could be the sound of a satisfied
customer in the future!” She reasoned. His thrall didn’t seem to think anything of it. They
looked at Oceana who was cleaning up her mess on the chaise.

“Your new platinum thrall is really pretty!” They complimented her. Oceana smiled at the
thrall’s compliment as she offered towels to Presmer, Vizaness and Kalamash.
“Why, thank you. At least you know how to recognize prestige.” Vizaness’ tentacles curled
contently.

“Of course they do. They came from your stock. Not that I can fault them. It’s true that you
have a fine menagerie.” Zusral admitted.

“Your appreciation is appreciated.” Vizaness replied. She started pulling on her robes. It
was hypocritical to poke fun at her and he knew it. His own menagerie wasn’t as large as
hers, but it was highly exotic. He got his humble start with grimlocks and he had acquired a
small menagerie of 11 halflings one year ago. He didn’t feel one way or the other about them.
They were merely a status symbol. They were simple enough to keep happy as long as they
were fed and had comfortable accommodations. The spice shortage was affecting his
menagerie negatively.

There was a 12th halfling he never spoke about. Her name was Fengrace. He almost sold off
his stock entirely because of her absence when he lost her to a tragic and unfortunate accident
with an experimental slaad egg. He would have never gotten through his grieving without the
thrall that Vizaness sold to him on a generous employee discount. It never dawned on him
that she had a genuine desire to help him. She hid how she truly felt too well from him. It
didn’t matter anymore. She had all the love she could ask for from her thralls and she
intended to continue training her thralls to become as valuable as they could be.

“Trying to set Presmer on the path to gold?” Zusrall asked.

“Indeed! He's progressing quite nicely.” She responded.

“Should you require assistance, I am of course always available. You are, after all, once
again my superior.” He reminded her.

“As I said. I'm not going to let you surpass me that easily.” She spoke to him as a friendly
rival. Even though Zusrall never reciprocated her unrequited feelings, he did consider her a
close ally. “I may require your services soon. You know A Breeder Named Slisskbax can be
rather rough with the thralls he tests for the roster… Let's meet up soon to figure out
Presmer's hard limits.”

“I can certainly work with him. How do you feel about that, Presmer?” Zusrall asked him.
Presmer hugged his mistress, hiding his face behind her. Zusrall chuckled softly. “Despite
some rumors you may have heard, I’m not going to spank you. Not unless you want me to.”
Zusrall’s words put the shy thrall at ease. “He’s got his work cut out for him. If impact play is
out then I’ll have to hope he’s fine with our creed-master’s other ‘preferences’.” He
speculated. “We’ll reconvene soon. If you think he has what it takes, then there’s no reason
not to try and shape his potential.”

“ So glad you agree.” Vizaness ruffled Presmer’s hair lovingly. “You did very well, Presmer.
You lasted so much longer today!” She praised him. Presmer smiled, blushing at her
compliment.

“Thank you. I want to do my best for you.” He admitted.

“He definitely has the makings of a praise kink. That’s an encouraging sign.” Zusrall noted.
He bid Vizaness a warm farewell, leaving her on a good note despite his initial intrusion. As a
final reminder for Presmer, she rubbed her tentacle against his wrist, marking him for when
he returned to his menagerie.

“You’re going to make your other golden boys jealous at this rate!” Oceana joked.

“That’s why I’ve been including them in his training.” Vizaness pointed out.

“How clever! I wish I was as smart as you, Mistress.” Oceana was quite good at flattering her
mistress.

“Oh, you! Such a charmer! I think Vebeva would like you quite a bit.” She was confident she
could get Oceana added to a pedigree if Vebeva doesn’t think she’s too good to answer her,
that is… Zusrall had to negotiate for weeks to even get her business. Perhaps she would get
lucky enough to get a response soon…
 Homework
Chapter Summary

Trezzir copies a spell while putting up with distractions from Welvyr. Trezzir is starting
to come to the realization that his thrall is not a thrall anymore and is growing to be okay
with that.

It would be Trezzir's first time copying a spell for himself. His tentacles writhed anxiously as
he started to make the return to his room at the inn. What was he so nervous about? He knew
Welvyr would help him if he needed it, but what good would it do him if the drow held his
hand the entire time? Was he overthinking again?

“Trezzir? Trezzir!” Welvyr got the new wizard’s attention.

“Yes?”

“You’re fidgeting again. What’s on your mind?” Welvyr asked.

“It would be a waste of time to dissect it, because it is time I do not have.” Trezzir tried to
downplay his questions and concerns by putting the task he set out to achieve above himself.

“This is a city of drow. You think my people lack patience? We’ve all the time in the world.”
Welvyr assured him.

“I’m thinking about the consequences of my actions and the events I have possibly set into
motion within the machinations of the universe.” Trezzir explained.

“That’s quite broad. I suppose things such as dealing with your fellow students, and if any of
your old colony members come through town are all very concerning things to think about. I
don’t have enough information yet to answer those questions, but you think on your feet.
You’ll be fine.” Welvyr speculated.

“Not without you, I don’t…” They admitted. Welvyr was so stunned by that admission, he
couldn’t even respond to it out loud.

“Trezzir, what do you mean by that?” He frowned as his cheeks started to feel warm.

“ You’ve been by my side through the passage of 13 years. It is difficult to imagine doing
anything without you.” He elaborated.
“ Ah, you’re worried about having to separate into our own dormitories…” Welvyr
concluded.

“Yes…” Trezzir admitted.

Welvyr thought about holding his hand but thought better of it in public.

“I think that I have been benefiting from the time that we have spent together on this journey,
but I can’t seem to understand how. I’ve been having strange feelings about you. They aren’t
unpleasant emotions. Simply difficult for me to process…” He admitted. There wasn’t anyone
here to read his thoughts. No one could as long as he wore that ring. He felt safe telling these
things to Welvyr.

“Can you try to describe this feeling?” Welvyr had his suspicions but didn’t want to guess
incorrectly.

“Longing. Anticipation… Heightened arousal.” The illithid hesitated on that last bit. Welvyr
looked at him blinking several times before he finally cracked a smile.

“What?? What’s that look for?!” He scanned Welvyr's thoughts.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Welvyr smirked and was clearly lying yet he couldn’t get to the bottom of
it because of that damn ring of false thoughts!

“Don’t lie to me about this!” Trezzir’s tentacles writhed in annoyance as they entered their
inn.

“I’ll tell you when we get to our room.” Welvyr mentally replied with a smug grin. Trezzir
didn’t think withholding information from him was very funny, but he waits until they’re in
their room for the drow to explain himself.

“Gods, I think you might be infatuated with me.” Welvyr whispered after locking the door.

“As you are with me…” Trezzir pointed out. Welvyr took off his ring of false thoughts in
front of Trezzir.

“I have been enjoying our time together.” Welvyr admitted. “You kept me by your side even
when I turned out to be an inept masseur. Thank you...” He smiled softly, looking at the
illithid with hopeful eyes.

“Can I touch you once more for a moment?” Trezzir asked.

“Of course.” He gave his permission. Trezzir gently touched his cheeks with his hands and
lightly wrapped his tentacles around Welvyr. He leaned in and pressed his forehead to that of
his partner. Thrall was no longer the correct word to describe the drow. Welvyr was becoming
a person separate from him, yet a mutual connection remained as they felt themselves
discovering something deeper and more powerful. Trezzir felt that he was only beginning to
scratch the surface of it. His clawed fingertips lightly brushed against one of his ears. Welvyr
sighed pleasurably.

“I merely wished to explore this unique bond more in depth before we part ways.” Trezzir
confessed.

“You have to do your assignment first…” Welvyr reminded him. He gently kissed the
illithid’s forehead. “Work first. Play later. The sooner you get done, the more time we have
for whatever we wish to do.” He responsibly reasoned. Trezzir grumbled, knowing that
Welvyr was right. He slowly pulled himself away from the drow and settled at the desk,
getting out his inks.

“As you know, studying a new spell can take time. You have to decipher Mergos’ unique
system of notation, practice and experiment until you understand it, and transcribe it within
your spellbook using your own notation. The more powerful the spell, the longer it takes.
This is a simple spell. It shouldn’t take you more than a couple of hours.” Welvyr explained.
He studied the scroll intently. To his surprise, this didn’t seem as hard as he thought it would
be. He wondered why Mergos had such a spell in the first place.

Perhaps he would find out in due time. One could do all kinds of shady things with such a
spell. He would know. He was a victim of fraud because of this damn spell, and it only
required a verbal component? He understood Mergos’ notation but he struggled with
practicing the verbal component as most illithids did. Gurgled swears came from him. “There
has to be a way to do this without speaking the verbal components!”

“None that I am currently aware of, but I’ll be on the lookout for knowledge that is relevant
to you. You performed quite well under pressure against the bone naga we faced…”

“Of course I did! There’s no room for error when one is about to die!” Trezzir responded.
Welvyr placed his hand on the illithid’s shoulder and looked down at the scroll.

“Focus and sound it out. You can overcome this obstacle. I know you can.” Welvyr
encouraged him.

Trezzir found himself tempted to get Welvyr’s help once again, but to his shock and
frustration, Welvyr managed to shut him out! He couldn’t live in denial anymore. It was scary
and humiliating to think he couldn't control Welvyr to solve this problem. Welvyr knew well
that the illithid hated it even if he made no outward show of his turmoil. “I’m doing this for
your own good, Trezzir. It will stunt your development if you turn to my mind every time you
find a hurdle in your learning. I only want what is best for you.” Welvyr explained. “You can
take your frustration out on me when you're done.” He added in a sultry tone.

Trezzir's tentacles twitched at his proposal. “I most certainly will… You're proving to be a
great distraction.”

“Casting spells during sexual acts is actually a great way to practice concentration.” Welvyr
smirked.

“Welvyr, please. I'm trying to focus.” Trezzir's face began to pale.

“Then focus!” Welvyr laughed. “The only one stopping you is you.”

“No, it's definitely your fault!” Trezzir argued.

“Well if you say so, we'll test that theory.” Welvyr sat on their bed and decided he would
occupy his mind with a book he'd bought. Tales about a drow highwayman's dastardly
escapades on the surface as he robbed terrified people at night.

Maybe it wasn't entirely Welvyr's fault. He was still struggling. “Varia… Valorum? No…”

“I struggled with that sending spell too. Don't beat yourself up.” Welvyr reminded him. “I
don't know that spell so I'd be as much help as you anyway.” He pointed out.

“Varia… Valorem!” Trezzir was starting to figure it out. “Are you causing problems for me
on purpose?” He asked the drow.

“On purpose with purpose.” Welvyr replied honestly.

“And what purpose could your frankly bratty behavior be serving?” Trezzir inquired.

“Schools of the arcane are a very cutthroat place to be. You already know that true allies are
few and far between, but there's no elder brain to keep them in line. They aren't illithids, but
these are minds that are nearly equal or are equal to yours. They can manipulate you as well.
Don't let your guard down.” He explained.

“You're explaining mind games to a mind flayer.” Trezzir said bluntly.

“I suppose there are similarities when you scratch the surface.” Welvyr smirked. Trezzir
didn't know the half of it. Sshamath was already a better place than Menzoberranzan but that
didn't mean it was wholly safe. Trezzir was the only being he could trust in this cruel world.
He was the only one who had ever been kind to him. Welvyr was the only creature that
Trezzir had ever been kind to.

“Welvyr, I'd like to borrow your arcane focus for a minute.” Trezzir said. Welvyr couldn't
imagine why he wanted his “ugly secret stone” since Distort Value only required a verbal
component, but he complied and handed it to him anyway.

“Varia valorem.” He thought he had the pronunciation down by now and over the next
minute the color and luster of the smoky quartz began to shift until the illusion made it look
like a more valuable smoky amethyst.

“Was it really that unpleasant to look at?” Welvyr chuckled.

“It was merely the first thing I thought of. It is an improvement, no?” Trezzir was actually
quite proud of that. He set it aside and immediately began copying the spell into his own
book.

“Do you also get a feeling of motivation when you get a breakthrough?” Welvyr asked.

“Now that you mention it, I do.” Trezzir replied. It was closer to a high. It was like his first
successful sale. The relief of coming home and adding money to The Vault made Trezzir feel
like he accomplished something. He was in the home stretch and he wouldn't stop scribing
until he was done. He could see why Welvyr enjoyed this so much. Welvyr ceased pestering
him, allowing him to finish. Most mind flayer arcanists used qualith in the notation of their
spells, but it hadn't even occurred to Trezzir that he could use a striator. No one he learned
from was using qualith, after all. His quill strokes in Undercommon were said to be quite
elegant, so his spell notation ended up being just as beautiful to look at. Calligraphy was not
something he engaged in often and unbeknownst to Trezzir, it was a stray remnant of his
host.

“What are you reading?” Trezzir asked, allowing the ink in his spell book to dry before
closing it.

“A compilation of the Nightshade Bandit. It was a series of chapbooks detailing the titular
bandit's escapades. I never got to finish reading it.” He explained.

“Finishing up old loose ends?” Trezzir asked.

“It sounds silly but I used to fantasize about being a surface noble kidnapped by the
Nightshade Bandit.” He admitted, hoping the illithid wouldn't judge him harshly.

“I'm assuming this ties in with your bondage kink?” Trezzir asked.

“Hah! Literally…” Welvyr nodded.

“I could be your kidnapper…” Trezzir told him.

“Oh my! Are you suggesting that we roleplay?” Welvyr asked.

“Would you like that?”

“How bold… I'd love to try it.” He softly admitted. Trezzir remembered from experimenting
with escort thralls that each master had ground rules regarding their thralls that were not to be
broken. For Zusrall's thrall, illithids were not allowed to put their mouths on them at all. In
general, causing psychological harm to the escorts was highly discouraged.

“Is there anything you want me to avoid doing?” Trezzir asked.

“Don’t strike or otherwise harm me intentionally. You know… Bad memories. Threatening to
do so is alright with me in the context of a fantasy, and I might say something along the lines
of ‘Oh no, please don’t!’ if I get invested in the role, but please don’t actually do it…”
Welvyr responded.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. No one gets to harm you without being marked for death ever again.
We’ll destroy anyone who dares.” Trezzir meant every word. Thrall or not, it no longer
mattered. Welvyr was his and nobody messed with what belonged to Trezzir.

Welvyr eagerly got the rope from his bag and handed it to Trezzir.

“Now what do we have here?” Trezzir teased. Welvyr gave in instantly as the illithid began
to control his body, forcing him to kneel. Trezzir used his sash as a gag. “Can’t have our
prize casting spells now, can we?”

“Why, yessh, dis is a fery effective way do pwevent the casding of spell.” Welvyr tried to
speak. Trezzir found his attempt humorous.

“You may as well not even bother. You sound quite silly.” He undressed the kneeling thrall
completely, pulling his robes off of him and rifling through his pockets. “And besides your
spellbook, not a thing of value on you. What a pity. I guess you’ll have to do.” Trezzir began
tying the drow up. Welvyr attempted to pull himself out of Trezzir’s control, wanting to resist
in order to be a troublesome “victim” for his partner, but he found that besides a little bit of
wiggling, he couldn’t really move.

“Who are you kidding? You want to be here, don't you? Otherwise you could have easily
escaped this mental bond.” Trezzir teased as the rope slowly bound the drow more securely.
His cock started to become erect from the situation he’d put himself in. “Well perhaps you do
have something of value.” One of his tentacles began to snake its way around his waist and
down between his legs before it teasingly slid against his shaft. “You don’t mind if I use it, do
you?” Trezzir asked. Welvyr moaned softly into the gag. He found himself bucking his hips
against the tentacle touching him, eager for more as he replied to his question mentally. He’d
broken free of his master’s control and hadn’t even noticed. He didn’t want to.

“Take whatever you want from me! Use me…” His cheeks flushed with warmth at the dirty
things he was thinking.

“Patience. I’m almost done tying you up.” Trezzir teasingly rubbed the tip of his tentacle
against the tip of his cock. Welvyr moaned, loving the way his tentacles felt on him. Trezzir
purred softly against his ear, sending his mind deeper into lustful desire. When he had
finished, Welvyr’s arms were tied firmly behind his back but he still had the use of his legs.
Trezzir forced him to stand before bringing him over to the bend, making him bend over on
it. This was a disreputable and terrible inn anyway. Who cares if they made a mess of the
bedding?

Welvyr was on his knees, his face against the rothe fur bedding. He knew he wouldn’t be
getting away. He couldn’t squirm very far and he loved the feeling of helplessness, but the
reality was that he was given the choice to relinquish his control. He willingly gave it to
Trezzir. He tensed up, eagerly anticipating his touch. When the illithid’s tentacles wrapped
around his thighs and his cock, he moaned softly. Trezzir remembered that Casber’s thrall,
Izzven, was quite fond of him putting his tentacles inside of him. Thinking back on it,
perhaps he had always been subconsciously thinking of Welvyr. He most frequently
requested that thrall out of any other.

“I haven’t done a cavity search yet.” Trezzir teased Welvyr, rubbing his tentacle against his
entrance while stroking his erection with his tentacle. His moans were muffled as he wiggled
his ass temptingly.

“Oh nooo, whatever will I do?” Welvyr mentally responded with playful sarcasm. Trezzir
slowly pushed the tip of his fourth tentacle in. Welvyr gave no protest, inviting in the feeling
and all that came with it. The illithid pulled him up to his knees and he tried to bounce on the
tentacle, overcome with a desire for more.

“Hhrnngh… So cooperative.” Trezzir praised. “Although I’m still not satisfied…” He

wouldn't be satisfied until Welvyr was. He moved his tentacles from his thighs and began to
rub them against his body. His right hand sensually traced along the edge of his ear.

Welvyr shivered pleasurably. His thoughts emptied as he moaned into the makeshift gag. He
was begging Trezzir to make him cum. No thrall was this intensely eager for him. Of course
they enjoyed him. It was the only way he could enjoy them in kind, but Welvyr was different.
Welvyr was special. Welvyr was getting closer to the edge of what he could take and Trezzir
eagerly kept up his pace as he felt their bodies heating up together. He released on the
bedding, splattering the fur with his cum. A long muffled cry of pleasure came from the drow
in unison with the illithid’s gurgled groan of relief. He tiredly pulled Welvyr’s gag down with
a tentacle.

“Are you doing alright?” Trezzir asked.

“Ah… Ahah… My shoulder’s admittedly a bit stiff. Do you think you could untie me?” He
slowly came down from his afterglow. Trezzir obliged and held Welvyr close, massaging his
shoulder. “This is supposed to be the other way around…”

“That would be true in Oryndoll, but we aren’t there, are we? You’re worth keeping around.
You’ve proven that four times over in this month alone.” Trezzir reassured him.

Welvyer kissed his tentacle, planting several kisses on it.

“And you’re worth being around… I’m starting to think that this isn’t just some lie we’re
telling everyone… I think I love you. Is it wrong for me to feel this way?” Welvyr sounded
vaguely afraid of the things he was saying. It was as if he were admitting to a heinous crime
of which he felt guilty.

“No. I do not think it is wrong. This activity causes a lot of positive emotions to manifest.
Attachment to the source of that pleasure is only natural.” Trezzir told him.

“There’s more to it, isn’t there? I’m not very good at being a thrall either, am I?” Welvyr
couldn’t understand why Trezzir kept him around when he wasn’t good for much of anything
other than his heretical magical knowledge.

“You’re a terrible thrall. You’re the worst accountant I’ve ever met!” Trezzir dryly joked.

“Oh wow, thanks!” Welvyr laughed.

“And you’re a fine companion. I love your smile. I love the enthusiasm you speak of magic
with. I hope your presence will grace me during my studies.” Trezzir admitted.

“It shall. We have a saying among drow. One can do whatever they please, as long as they
don’t get caught.” Welvyr assured him. He would see him again at any cost.

“How devious… I love the way you think.” Trezzir held him, telling himself that he wanted to
stay “just a little bit longer” like this.
 Let's Talk
Chapter Summary

Dess and Run Like the Wind discuss plans, beliefs and horses.

Dess awoke in a darkened room. He was confused for a moment as it had been dawn when he
went to sleep. He looked at the window to see that Run Like the Wind had put a blanket over
the window to protect his eyes.

“Good afternoon.” Run Like the Wind had greeted him. He was right where he had been
when Dess fell asleep, with a plate of eggs. “You can eat eggs, right? I got you breakfast.”
Wind offered. Dess held his hands out for the plate and eagerly slurped them down. The eggs
were cold because Wind couldn’t, or rather wouldn’t, wake him but the gnome ceremorph
didn’t care in the slightest.

He softly thanked him in a gooey voice in Gnomish. He had taken off his voice box before
bed. Dess was moved by Wind’s kindness.

“Sorry, I don’t understand Gnomish.” The construct apologized. “Wait, is that what you
actually sound like?” Wind asked.

“Eep!” He scrambled for his voice box and put it back on. “Sorry. I forgot I took that off.”
Dess apologized.

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s fine.” Wind truthfully thought it was adorable, but he didn’t
want to further embarrass him.

“Too late. I already heard everything.” Dess giggled. “I’m just glad you’re not scared of
me.”

“Why would I be? It’s not like you can eat me.” Wind bluntly pointed out.

“I can sense you have a lot of questions. You’ve been holding onto them for hours, haven’t
you?” Dess stretched before he slowly rolled out from under the covers.

“What made you so fascinated with human cultures?” He'd been wanting to ask.

“I started learning about surface cultures when I joined the Ariser Creed. Since humans are
the most common race on the surface, they have a wider variety of lore to learn! Elves are a
close second but I think that's because there were a lot of elves in my host's hometown.” Dess
admitted.

“Those guys that want to take over the surface? You don't act like a conqueror…” Wind
admitted.

“Oh, no! My interest was purely academic! In order for my research to lack any skewed
results, I firmly believe that illithids should rule subtly without being disruptive. Humans
should be free to develop their culture as stifling it kills new ideas. ” Dess told him.

“I don't think illithids should be ruling anyone.” Wind said bluntly.

“I definitely don't agree with everything my colony does… The Abysmal Creed shouldn't be
tolerated at all but the Encephalithid thinks that people should be afraid of us. It's sad because
humans will pack bond with anything! There's no need to terrorize them and make them hate
us. They get in their own way sometimes. Even their thralls are scary!” Dess ranted. He heard
rumors that a deranged gnome makes candles out of another thrall's skull. Caramyn terrified
him even more than her master.

“Uh… Did you have any thralls?” Wind nervously asked.

“One. A grimlock named Bargos. He… Didn't make it. He tried to defend me from the
duergar.” Dess’ voice took on a sad tone.

“Oh… I'm sorry for your loss? Listen, owning other people is illegal in many places on the
surface, so you can't turn anyone into a thrall. Do you understand?” Wind wanted to make
that perfectly clear.

“Was Keegan breaking the law?” Dess asked. Run Like the Wind was silent for several
moments, as if the truth pained him.

“No. I am not considered people.” The nimblewright answered.

“Simply for being built instead of born? You're a sentient being with their own thoughts!
That's like saying thralls aren't people. It's incorrect.” Dess firmly thought that Wind was a
person. “I feel like personhood has different meanings to different people. I bet there are
people who don't see me as a person either, so don't feel bad.” Dess tried to comfort him.

“Wait, don’t change the subject. You have to promise not to turn anyone into a thrall if I’m
going to travel with you.” Wind pushed the ceremorph for compliance.
“Turning someone into a thrall requires great psionic power. It would not be beneficial for me
to expend so much energy on a task like that. Especially not by myself. I will not turn anyone
into a thrall while on the surface.” Dess answered.

“I won’t return to the Underdark. Ever. If that’s a course of action you want to pursue, you’ll
have to do it alone.” Wind was making his boundaries clear.

“Can you show me why?” Dess asked.

“Show you?” Wind was confused by Dess’ request.

“With your memories.” Dess clarified. If Wind had a more expressive face it would have
twisted into a frown. Dess felt uncertainty and discomfort from the construct. “You don’t
have to show me if it’s unpleasant.” Dess wouldn't force the issue.

“It is discomforting but I will show you anyway. I need to show you so you can understand.”
Wind told him. He showed him the inside of the lab. He remembered what Keegan made him
do in front of Ellimol. Dess’ tentacles cringed in disgust.

“Alright! That’s enough! I get it!” Dess pulled himself away from Wind’s thoughts. He had
never regretted looking into someone’s memories so much. “You didn’t deserve that.” The
gnome ceremorph muttered. He was now starting to see why Wind felt so strongly about
insisting he doesn’t thrall anyone. Dess could never imagine treating any creature that way.
Dess hated when thralls were misused and abused.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” Run Like the Wind told the gnome ceremorph. Dess was
a 21 year old gnome ceremorph. He was fairly new to adulthood. Although he meant no
harm, it seemed to Wind that Dess could be capable of doing terrible things because it’s how
he grew up. It felt like a compelling reason to protect him. Not just from others but himself.

“I don’t know why you feel so compelled to protect me. I swear I didn’t do anything to make
you feel that way.” Dess’ cheeks started to pale. It was such a strange feeling.

“Friend shaped.” Wind blurted out.

“What??” Dess asked, his tentacles wriggled in confusion.

“You are… You know… Small and friend shaped…” Wind laughed nervously. He couldn’t
tell what Dess thought about that.

No one had ever described Dess in such a way. He’d been told from a young age that illithids
didn’t have any friends. How could he be friend shaped? “Thanks? I think you’re friend
shaped too…” Dess couldn’t really process what was happening. Surface dwellers were such
strange people, but he figured it was perhaps some new slang that he wasn’t privy to. Was
saying it back some kind of social custom?

“So… I suppose we have to figure out what we’re doing next. These humanoids sure care an
awful lot about money so we should probably think of a way to get more. You said you were
a mercenary for hire. Can you think of anywhere we could find some work?” Dess pondered.

“I’m pretty sure I was lying. I want to go back to Raven’s Bluff. Besides you and she who
shall not be named, my creator is the only person I actually know. I don’t know if I can
expect good things to happen if I do.” Run Like the Wind said. “Maybe we would be safer
legging it on the road. I move fast enough and I never get tired. We’d only need one tent. The
less we’re around people, the better.” The nimblewright felt especially protective of
themselves and didn’t want Dess to frighten anyone by accident.

Wind tapped their golden bearded chin before lifting their finger in an a-ha gesture. “I’ve got
one other thing I can sell to ensure we can get supplies.” The construct said. He pulled out a
locket. It was made of gold and had intricate filigree and the symbol of Gond on it. “She gave
it to me. I don’t want it anymore.” Wind explained.

“Well, I suppose selling it is more useful than tossing it into the nearest river.” Dess said.

“I’ve been tempted.” Wind admitted. So it was decided that the duo would set out from their
inn, sell the locket and purchase camping supplies. After donning their disguises, they
checked out of their inn. They would have only been able to afford to stay for one more night
anyway with the coin they currently had.

“Stay close to me and don’t wander off.” Wind said. It was impossible for Dess to find a
merchant in all these people. The sights and sounds of a busy town with caravans moving up
and down the road were too much to focus on. He held onto Run Like the Wind’s cloak so
that he would not get lost.

“We can discuss certain matters privately through my mental connection, provided no one is
reading our minds, which is statistically unlikely.” Dess told him mentally. He felt discomfort
from Wind. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He apologized.

“I’ll just have to get used to it.” Wind said.

“You can also reply mentally.” Dess pointed out.

“Right… It’s just a secure form of communication. I get it. It’s just weird having someone else
in my head, but I know you aren’t doing anything bad.” Wind confirmed.

“I prefer to speak so I will keep this to a minimum, but I needed to ask if you knew the way
back to Raven’s Bluff with more insights than you can openly discuss.” Dess gently explained
his reasoning for talking to him like this.

“I do.” Wind responded. He gently nudged Dess out of the road so he wouldn’t be hit by a
passing caravan. “Before Keegan set out to go adventuring, my creator had me study maps of
the entirety of Faerun and major cities. I remember them all.” Wind admitted. He thought of
the map and Dess saw it in vivid detail.

“You have an eidetic memory! That's fantastic! It's as good as a physical map!” Dess
sounded impressed. Wind didn't know what eidetic meant but he mapped out the route they
would take.

“South until we cut east through Hlondeth, all the way to the capital of Turmish where we
will find a ship to take us north across the Sea of Fallen Stars.” Wind explained.

“My host's homeland…” Dess accidentally thought to Wind.

“Do we need to take another route?” Wind asked.

“No. You have chosen the most efficient available route. I’ll be fine! Really!” Dess assured
the construct. Wind was able to find a merchant willing to take his locket. The middle aged
half elf man's original offer was 15 gold pieces. Dess heard about a thing called haggling
from an illithid named Addanil once. He knew the locket was worth more than that.

“This man just went through a very horrific break up! He has to sell off his former lover's gift
to survive and I know for a fact this piece of jewelry is worth nearly twice your offer!” Dess
spoke up. “She practically cleaned him out!” Dess tried to appeal to the merchant's sympathy.
Wind figured out quickly what he was trying to do.

“My friend here escaped from duergar slavers recently. He doesn't have much himself. I need
to buy camp supplies for the trek home.” Wind added.

“Sorry to hear that. Most I can do is 20.” The merchant tells them. “I've got some adventuring
gear for sale too. What do you need?” He offered.

“One tent, two water skins, tinderbox, mess kit…” Wind started listing off their needs. Dess
peeked into the merchant’s thoughts.

“Only one tent? They're like that, huh?” The merchant thought at the mention of only buying
one tent. Dess wondered what he meant but knew he couldn't ask him.
“Oh! And a bedroll of course.” Wind mentioned.

“They're sharing a bedroll!? It’s really like that…” The merchant thought. Dess didn't see
what the big deal was.

He knew that many humanoids shared their sleeping areas with other creatures. Illithid
scholars like himself determined that it was such a common social behavior that thralls would
sometimes desire to sleep in the beds of their masters. “I’ve got all that in stock. I'll make you
a deal. 5 gold for everything and I'll throw in a blanket and backpack too.” The merchant
offered.

“That sounds fair.” Run Like the Wind accepted. This merchant was good. He managed to get
away with giving them his original offer for the locket but they did get a small discount in
kind, even if it only amounted to saving a single gold piece. Haggling was a bit harder than
Dess thought. What was more fascinating was the thoughts of the merchant. He felt
compelled to ask Wind about that later.

Goods and coin were exchanged and Wind loaded everything up in the backpack and hoisted
it onto his back. “I'm carnivorous so we need to find a butcher next. I do eat things other
than brains…” Dess mentally told him.

“When was your last brain? I'm not worried about my head but we do need to take that into
account.” Wind replied.

“Less than a day ago. A dog on a farm. I need at least one brain per month to stay healthy.”
Dess answered honestly. “I had intended to eat one of their pigs but they only had one sow
and the dog attacked me.” He felt guilty for depriving the family of its guardian and
companion. Wind got directions to a butcher from the merchant.

“I don't really care where you got it from as long as we don't get in trouble over it. Killing
livestock is risky, so let's only resort to that if we have no other choice.” Wind mentally told
him. Dess once again held onto his cloak as they walked. “You're kind of clingy, aren't you?”

“My eyes are impaired in this light. My visibility is reduced. It makes me feel safe to hold
onto your cloak but I will cease doing it if this bothers you.” Dess explained with an
apologetic tone.

“It's alright. You can hold onto it if you want to.” Wind softly assured him.
The challenge of feeding meat to any ceremorph was keeping things fresh. The best they
could do was sausage and jars of pickled beef heart. Eggs could be rolled up in a bag of oats
for safe transporting. They got enough food for 5 days. Wind thought about hunting animals
for food. How hard could it be? He could run as fast as many animals.

“Should we get a hunting trap or something too?” Dess mentally asked.

“I'm not a mule. I'm already carrying enough stuff.” Wind disagreed. “Unless there is
something pressing, let's make our way to Ormath.” He didn't want to give Keegan a chance
to catch up with him if he could help it. Dess nodded and followed him out of the city. They
walked on the side of the road as caravans passed them in both directions, going in and out of
Assam.

They walked past farms and fields of tall golden grass. The sky was the most vibrant shade of
blue that Dess had ever seen. The air was cool but not unpleasantly so with a light breeze.
“That one merchant had interesting thoughts about us that I couldn't make sense of.” Dess
said once they were out of earshot of people.

“What kind of thoughts? He didn’t think we looked out of place, did he?” Run Like the Wind
Asked.

“No, it wasn’t anything like that. He made the assumption that we were sharing the bedroll
and said it was ‘like that’. Is there great cultural significance to sharing a bedroll?” Dess
pondered. There it was again. The steam coming from his head.

“Must you eavesdrop on everyone’s private thoughts?” Wind softly scolded him.

“I can’t help it! Everyone and everything is just too interesting!” Dess whined.

“I don’t really know how to begin explaining it to you. It’s embarrassing. That merchant must
have thought we were… You know… Having relations.”

“Oh, God-Brain, no!” Dess laughed.

“I bought those things so you could rest comfortably and safely without anyone seeing what
you are.” Wind said. “It’s not much shelter but it’s better than nothing if it rains, right?”

“I don’t think it would bother me if it rained.” Dess admitted. “I’ve always wondered what it
would be like to get caught in the rain on the surface.” He confessed.

“I too wonder what rain feels like.” Run Like the Wind admitted.
The two of them had only been walking for two hours before Dess complained that he was
tired.

“If anyone catches you floating, it’s going to look weird, unless you can think of some really
clever lie.” Wind sighed. It didn’t help that Wind was walking slower in order for Dess to
keep up. “Come on, I’ll carry you.” He helped the gnome ceremorph get seated on his
shoulders and continued on his way. The nimblerwright walked faster than he had before.
Dess knew he should be grateful that a creature was willing to serve him, but it was strange.
It felt like an odd mix of pity and adoration. He’d never felt that emotion from any creature
before.

“I know I keep proving myself useless, but please don’t pity me. I already get treated like a
child by my colony even though I’m an adult.” Dess requested.

“Do you want me to put you down then?” Wind asked. He hadn’t meant to hurt his pride.

“I never said that! Just don’t feel sorry for me.” The gnome ceremorph protested being put
down. He couldn’t make up his mind!

“Alright, alright. I won’t feel sorry for you. Trust me, I’m well aware that you’re anything but
harmless. But you’re out of place, like me. I’ve always felt at home around people that didn’t
fit in…” Wind tried to assure him. For him, Keegan was that person. Being a half goblin only
got Keegan slightly more respect than being a full blooded goblin was.

As much as he hated her at the moment, the thought that something bad may have happened
to her because of his abandonment gnawed at his consciousness for only a moment. Was he
wrong? No. Keegan did not care if her actions put them in danger in the first place. Dess
started to sense some anger building within Run Like the Wind. “Friend? Are you alright?”
Dess asked, attempting to snap him out of it. Was it alright to call him friend?

“Huh? Yes. I’m fine.” Wind snapped to attention. “I will be.”

“Hey, I know! What if I distract you with more local lore?” Dess suggested.

“Actually… Can you tell me what you know about horses?” Wind requested. Maybe he could
talk himself out. It wasn’t as if he had an unpleasant voice. It was sort of funny to listen to.
Wind enjoyed hearing it.

“Of course. The horse, also known by it’s scientific name of equus ferus caballus, is a
domesticated animal most often used by humanoids for riding, pulling carts and work. It is
said that some of the best trained horses in all of Toril come from the elven house of House
Korianthil in Evermeet. The breed most common bred in the shining plains are plainsteeds!
This breed is also common in Hlondeth and Riatavin.” Dess continued to ramble about his
knowledge of these creatures and Wind paid attention to every word. “Can I tell you
something silly?” The gnome ceremorph asked.

“Sure. Don’t get upset if I laugh.” Wind said.

“I’ve always wanted to see a unicorn.” Dess confessed.

“I don’t see why that’s silly. Did your colony say it was?” Wind didn’t see what was so
funny.

“They thought my fascination with horses was pointless so I didn't bring it up to anyone else.
I got so excited because you were the only person to ever ask.” Dess admitted. “We both
escaped from people who weren’t very kind to us…” He realized.

“Thank you for being kind to me.” Dess told him, looking up at the fiery orange clouds of
sunset. The sky was taking on a deeper hue of blue. If Wind looked to the west, when the sun
shone just right, his black garnet eyes shimmered faintly through the eye slots of his helmet.

“And you to me…”

 Dinner Date
Chapter Summary

Maybelle has a dinner date with Srebral. Things get a bit spicy.

Srebral seemed to be in quite the good mood today. The spice shortage was finally over and
he bought as much garlic as he could get his slimy hands on. He was in such a good mood, he
hadn’t even gotten mad that Maybelle was initially withholding coin from him.

“Just so you know, the income you make from tips is considered to be my income. I have to
keep track of it for the taxes. I know you didn’t know, so I’m going to let it slide. Just make
sure you keep records of it…” Srebral told her.

“Thank you for being so patient with me. I hope I didn’t cause any problems for you.” She
replied.

“Not at all. Say, I have an idea. Why don’t you give me the money you make for safe keeping?
We can save it up to do something nice for your co-workers or buy something new for the
inn!” Srebral was trying to nudge her away from keeping money on her person. Thralls
weren’t supposed to have their own money. It wasn’t natural.

“That sounds like a great idea, sir! I’ll be sure to keep accurate records for you!” She replied.
Srebral was relieved how easily that was taken care of.

“I'll be leaving early to start making dinner. I left something for you in your room. Please
change into it at the end of your shift. I'll have another pick you up and bring you to my
domicile.” Srebral told her.

“Yes, sir!” Maybelle gave him a little salute. Srebral found it adorable and he couldn't place
why.

She went about her duties, serving food to guests, cleaning and occasionally striking up short
friendly conversations with guests. Despite what a dim place the Underdark could be, it had
its little lights in the dark. Meanwhile, Brilanna was gossiping with Wesmi. “You should see
the dress he's going to make her wear… I'm starting to think he likes seeing those rothe tits of
hers. He never cooked a special dinner for any of us…” She muttered.

“Maybelle talked about saving up to do something for all of us. Maybe you should let her
borrow your cosmetics. The way I see it is it'll be better for all of us if he likes Maybelle so
much. He's already in a good mood today and I don't think it's just the spice shipment.”
Wesmi said. “I don't know what she did to him but it's working.”

“She had sex with him. I heard the noises from her room.” Brilanna whispered.

Wesmi smiled smugly. “Called it. Shelura and I had a little bet. Guess who has to wash dishes
for a week?” She quietly snickered to herself as she finished up an order from the limited
menu. She hands the tray to Brilanna to take out to a customer. She had to admit she didn't
have much of a reason to hate Maybelle. She was just naive and overly bubbly but Brilanna
could tell the human woman meant well. How the hell did she get roped into doing her
makeup for her? She didn't even get a chance to say no. Srebral probably wouldn't even care.
He never commented on it when she wore it. It's not like she wanted him to notice or
anything. She kept her interactions with Maybelle strictly business related during their shift.

When the ladies were done for the evening Maybelle returned to her room to put on the dress.
It was a plain light pink dress with puffed sleeves. The cut was similar to her tavern uniform.
When she pulled it on, she found that her cleavage was just as deep as that of her uniform.
“Hm… This one doesn’t fit quite right either…” She naively pondered. Brilanna was leaning
in the doorway of Maybelle’s room.

“You realize he did it on purpose, right?” Brilanna pointed out.

“Ah, I guess he likes this look because the customers like it so much.” Maybelle concluded.

“These rothe tits of yours are all anyone can focus on!” Brilanna pouted, poking her chest.

“I’m sorry? Did I do something wrong? It kind of seems like you don’t like me very much…”
Maybelle pointed out.

“I never said that! Don’t put words in my mouth!” Brilanna huffed. “I’m doing your makeup
for your dinner so just sit still and be quiet! And I’m only doing this because Wesmi asked
me to.” The drow told her in a bossy tone.

“Uh… Alright then.” Maybelle sat still, not saying a single word to Brilanna as she
requested.

Brilanna didn’t have much that would suit a human complexion, but she would do the best
with what she had. The silence between them soon grew awkward. “You know, if you learned
how to do this properly you could be really cute…” Brilanna quipped as she rubbed some
moisturizing crag mushroom lotion onto her face. “I guess you already have pretty good skin.
Where’d he purchase you from?” She asked softly, trying to get Maybelle to at least say
something to her.

“The menageries. The one Vizaness owns.” Maybelle answered.

“I don’t know who that is.” Brilanna told her.

“She works at The Breeding Pen. She has a lot of humans and hobgoblins. She has a few
drow too.” Maybelle said. None of the drow were as flat chested as Brilanna but the human
woman thought better about bringing that up.

Brilanna looked over at Wesmi who was watching Brilanna do Maybelle’s makeup. “Wesmi!
How am I supposed to do her makeup with you staring at me? It’s weird. Haven’t you heard
of boundaries?” She scolded the middle aged hobgoblin woman.

“Just making sure you’re not making her look like a clown.” Wesmi joked.

“Why did you ask me to do it if you didn’t trust me? Ugh.” Brilanna rolled her eyes as Wesmi
went back to whatever she was doing.

“Close your eyes for a moment… Did you hear about the night shift thrall that got fired
recently?” Brilanna whispered as she started to apply a pink mineral powder to the human’s
eyelids. Maybelle gasped softly in disbelief.

“No, what happened?” Maybelle asked.

“You didn’t hear about it? Let me tell you about it. I heard from Shelura who heard from
Wesmi that he got into a physical fight with a guest.” Brilanna shared.

“What happens when they get fired?” Maybelle asked.

“Master eats them.” Brilanna placed her hand upon the top of her head, lightly squeezing for
emphasis to mimic her master’s maw. “Just do your work and he won’t get mad. I never see
him with his personal thrall anymore. I think he ate that one too…” She whispered. “He gets
extra bitey when he’s angry but you didn’t hear that from me.”

Maybelle couldn’t figure out what could cause an illithid to get angry enough to eat their
personal thralls, but figured it wise not to say anything to him about it. “Don’t worry, my lips
are sealed.” Maybelle assured her.

“I don’t know why I’m wasting my lip paste on you because it’s just going to come off when
you eat, but it won’t look right if I don’t finish what I started.” Brilanna said as she began
painting a nude pink cream onto the human’s lips. “This rouge is a bit dark but if I only use a
little bit…” Brilanna softly blended it onto Maybelle’s cheeks. “Your cheeks are kind of
chubby. They’re kind of cute though…” The drow’s cheeks were a bit rosy as well.
Maybelle couldn’t figure out what Brilanna’s issue was. First she seems to hate Maybelle and
the next moment she’s calling her cute. It seemed like a backhanded compliment but her tone
betrayed her. “Thank you for helping me.” Maybelle smiled softly. Brilanna rolled her eyes.

“Don’t say I never did anything nice for you.” Brilanna replied. Maybelle came to the front
of the building to wait to be escorted. She hadn’t expected to be literally picked up by a
lizardfolk man that entered the inn. She was carried out over the lizardfolk’s shoulder.

“Uh. Bye! Have a good night!” Maybelle waved at her co-workers.

“Well… That just happened.” Shelura blinked.

“Ah, she’ll be fine.” Wesmi said.

“I sure hope you’re right.” Shelura said. Maybelle allowed herself to be carried off without
protest. She watched the features of the caverns and illithids pass her by until she ended up in
front of a mostly unadorned door, save for the qualith which marked it as Srebral’s dwelling.
The qualith was also used to lock and unlock his door.

“Master! Delivery!” The lizard man announced outside. Srebral opened the door to see
Maybelle’s underwear under her dress facing him as the lizard man held her over his shoulder
like a captured maiden.

“Why are you carrying her like that!? She can walk, you know!” Srebral sounded
exasperated.

“You said to pick her up.” The delivery thrall told him. “What shall I do with her? She’s a
little heavy…”

“Put her down!” Srebral commanded. The lizard man complied and her feet finally touched
the ground.

“Hello, sir!” Maybelle greeted.

Srebral guided her inside and gave the lizardman a mindgate to bring back to his owner as the
delivery fee. “Damn lizardfolk couriers. They always take everything literally… Makes me
wonder why we bother to ceremorph them.” He rolled his eyes. Maybelle looked around his
domicile. It was rather plain looking. He managed to get a second chair. The centerpiece was
made of glowing fungi. She thought they were pretty. He picked the brightest ones he could
for her human eyes. “You look exquisite, Maybelle.” He complimented her.

“Thank you, Srebral! Are those new robes? You look handsome in them!” Maybelle noticed.

“They are! Thank you for noticing.” Internally, Srebral felt a pang of joy when she called him
handsome. “Come. Have a seat.” The illithid pulled out a chair for her. Maybelle makes
herself comfortable and sits down in the chair, scooting up to the table.
“Our first course is creamy potato soup and garlic sporebread.” Srebral served her a bowl of
the soup. He sat on the other side of the table with only a glass of water.

“You’re not eating anything, sir?” Maybelle asked with a puzzled look on her face.

“I already ate.” He wasn’t going to eat in front of her. He thought that would have been rude.
Although he was curious about what she thought of his cooking. “Have you ever entered a
taste link with an illithid before?” Srebral asked.

“I can’t say that I have.” Maybelle answered honestly. “What’s that?”

“Illithids can’t taste food in the way that you do. In humanoids, taste is often strongly linked
to the olfactory senses. Your sense of smell. Since we can’t smell anything we generally can’t
taste anything… To put it simply, I can taste what you taste if you open your mind to me.”
Srebral explained.

“I think I get it. Go right ahead. I don’t mind!” She invited him in. She eagerly took a sip of
the soup once she felt him observing her. “Mmm! This is good!” She began eating eagerly.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten!” Maybelle complimented.

“I’m elated that you like it, Maybelle." Srebral thought it probably wasn’t a very high bar to
clear. “You should consider selling this at the tavern! I had no idea sporebread could be so
soft. This meal is simple but comforting.” She complimented him.

“You really think people would buy it?” He asked.

“I’d eat it every day if given the chance.” She told him honestly. Her words struck a chord
with him.

“You know, this is in fact quite delicious. That’s a great idea, Maybelle! I’ll share this recipe
with Wesmi.” His tentacles found themselves curling contentedly. He noticed as Maybelle
ate, a few drops of soup had spilled onto her chest. He found himself staring at her cleavage
for several moments before handing her a handkerchief to clean herself.

“Oh, thank you!” Maybelle took it and wiped it up. “I’ve always been a little clumsy.” She
giggled. He cleared the bowl away when she was finished and brought on the second course.

“The next course is breast short ribs.”

“Did you mean braised, sir?” Maybelle asked.

“What did I say…?” He asked.

“Breast short ribs.” Maybelle answered.

“Would you like some nip- ripple white wine?” The illithid looked away from her chest, and
reached for a wine bottle with his tentacle.

“Yes, please!” She accepted. He poured the wine into a chalice far less macabre than the cups
made from skulls at his inn. It was a brass chalice with the design of grapes on the vine. She
sipped it and Srebral knew she truly enjoyed it. The braised short ribs were on top of mashed
potatoes, allowing the juices of the ribs to mingle with the potatoes. She decides to tell him
her review mentally because she couldn’t stop eating! “The rothe is so tender! The potatoes
taste like a completely different dish. You have a real talent for this!” Maybelle thought
cheerfully as she ate. Srebral bashfully rubbed the back of his head.

“They must be feeding you crap in the menagerie!” Srebral downplayed her compliments a
bit.

“Compared to your cooking, it’s certainly true.” Maybelle agreed. “Did you bring me up here
to try out some new menu items?” She teased.

That hadn’t been his intention at all, but her ideas were a happy coincidence. “Your insights
are becoming important to me.” It couldn’t possibly be the fact that she stroked his ego,
right? She leaned in closer. Her breasts rested on the table barely covered by her dress.
Something long buried was stirring within him. He tried to distract himself by bringing her
the final course of the meal.

“What’s this?” Maybelle asked. She didn’t even know what a dessert was!

“Sporebreast pudding.”

“Sporebreast?” Maybelle giggled.

“Sporebread! God-Brain dammit…”

Maybelle took a bite of the dessert. A bit plain but it was delicately sweet. “Brilanna told me
these were distracting. I guess she was right.” She looked down at her breasts, grabbing and
jiggling them slightly. Srebral’s face turned pale. Would it be wrong to use the thrall for fun?
For no other reason than to just feel good? He didn’t have the excuse of stress relief on his
side this time. He didn’t have the excuse of curiosity anymore. There was nothing he could
hide behind. “Oh well. I guess it can’t be helped.” The human woman said. He wanted to put
her on the table and use her right there. “You know, you don’t have to be stressed to want to
feel good, right?” She asked.

“Take off your clothes.” He commanded. Maybelle stood from her seat, wordlessly
complying with his command. She placed her dress upon her chair. Srebral approached her,
pushing plates and silverware out of the way. He made her face him and forced her to sit on
the table.

“Srebral? Are you alright?” She asked.

“No. Not until I have you.” He admitted. Maybelle responded to his depraved and tangled
thoughts with a soft embrace. She lovingly kissed one of his tentacles. Tension that he didn’t
even know he was holding onto began to melt away. She was like a drug to him and her
gentle touch left him high. His tentacles coiled and grabbed at her breasts. Their squishy and
soft tactile sensation was immensely satisfying to him. He laid her down. He wanted to see
every curve. Her nipples were hard as he teased them with his tentacles. Maybelle moaned
softly, reacting with growing need and desire.

“Mmnnn… I think this meal just became spicy!” Maybelle teased. Srebral spread her legs
with his hands, pinning her thick thighs back.

“Just marking what belongs to me. Is that so bad?” The illithid began rubbing a tentacle
against her pussy, teasingly flicking the tip of it against her clitoris.

“No, Sir.” She smiled at him, biting her lower lip softly. It wasn’t wrong to have a new and
private recreational activity. He worked hard to get this thrall, and best of all, she wanted him
too.

She relaxed as he pushed a tentacle into her mouth and another one inside her moist sex at the
same time. Maybelle let out a pleased and muffled moan. The last of her lip color rubbed off
onto his tentacle. No words were exchanged as she guided him subconsciously. Their desires,
their minds and their bodies connected. She was his greatest conquest. She was wonderful.
She was everything he never knew he needed. Her whole body squirmed and trembled. His
pleased purrs resonated through her mind.

“Maybelle…” Srebral moaned her name in a soft gooey voice. Her name was pleasant to his
very perception. “Hhhrrngh… Maybelle!” He pulled his tentacle from her mouth. He smelled
of sauteed onions and she didn't mind in the slightest. He felt acceptance on a scale that no
other creature had ever given him.

“Oh, yes! Srebral!” The trembling human woman moaned her master's name with a shaky
voice. She gripped the edge of the table. As his tentacles pleasured her she was practically
melting as he wrapped his tentacle around her arm, encouraging her to let go. She held his
tentacle, letting the slimy appendage writhe in the palm of her hand. Their combined fluids
dripped onto the table and onto the floor. Her moans grew louder in volume as their
inhibitions loosened.
Srebral had never connected with another creature the way he connected to Maybelle. He
wanted to reach out and touch her in the way she touched him. The slick squelching noises of
his tentacles rubbing and plunging into her was accompanying the sounds they made. “So
close…!” Maybelle thinks. He wanted her close to him. He wanted her comfort, her touch,
her smile. He wanted her .

Her body tenses and she feels the heat in her face build. They reach their limits and Srebral
gave one final push, driving his psyche into hers. Maybelle had never felt anything like it, but
she knew immediately what she had to do. She pushed back. The friction created between
them was like a spark that caused an explosion. The sound that Srebral made was
undignified. A gurgled cry matched her’s in volume. He leaned over on Maybelle, resting his
head against her stomach. His tentacles weakly wrapped around her as the two of them
caught their breath.

“Wow. Oh wow!.. Whew…” Maybelle had a bright smile on her face, giggling softly. She
placed her hand on the back of his head. After basking in the warmth of her gentle touch for
several moments, he slowly pulled himself away from her, inspecting the mess they left.

“Oh my Tentacled Lord… Let me get you cleaned up.” Srebral offered. His tentacles curled
as he got her a towel and wiped her off, gently wiping between her legs. He helped her down
from the table. “Don’t worry about the mess. I’ll get it later.” He assured her. He looked at
the door that opened up to the bedroom of his last personal thrall, before he went to change
his robes.

Was he really thinking about moving Maybelle into his domicile? This thrall was good. His
connection with her was too good. How long would it last before he inevitably destroyed this
too? There were consequences for his actions if he did. He’d not only financially ruin himself
if he did, he’d destroy himself. He didn’t want to hurt Maybelle. He’d already been through
two personal thralls. Would the third time really be the charm?

He thought better of it when he realized he didn’t even have a blanket for her. Maybelle
began pulling on her clothes and tried to fix her hair. “I’ll bring you back to your room.” He
told her. He was in clean robes. She wouldn’t allow him to be alone with his thoughts as she
walked back to the Skull Cup with him. “Thanks for bringing me home. The trip with the
lizardman was a little rough.” She told him.

“I should have considered that he would take my command literally… At least he didn’t hurt
you, right?” He checked.

“I feel great!” She smiled. “I think you could seriously put those recipes on the menu and
they’d be popular.” Maybelle genuinely believed it.
“Hm… There would be no harm in trying.” Srebral nodded. “Maybelle, would you like to do
this more regularly?” He asked. Everything told him he shouldn't get attached but the way
that they connected felt like a tether between them.

“You blew my mind, hehe! I'd like that.” Maybelle responded. Srebral didn't know what
Maybelle did to him, but he liked it a lot and he couldn't get enough. He finally noticed the
pink smudge on his tentacle, and his face lightly paled.

“Forgot to clean your makeup off my tentacle…” He pointed out. Maybelle took the edge of
her dress and wiped it off for him. “Thanks…” He didn’t tell her to do that. She didn’t have
to do that.

“I can show you how I make my wine next time. I remember you saying you were interested.”
He said.

“I would love to see how you do it. It’s really good. The Darklake Stout is kind of nasty to
me, but I’m sure someone likes it. Otherwise it wouldn’t be on the menu.” She was happy to
learn how he made his wine.

“That’s because Darklake Stout is made for the duergar. They don’t usually have good taste.”
He bluntly said. Speaking of duergar, he ignored the night shift thrall as he brought Maybelle
back to her room. His other thralls were in the “break room”, a designated communal area
where his thralls could socialize after work. The ladies often liked to play card games and
dice games after work. They would sometimes play with the guests as well if they had
nothing better to do.

“I suppose this is goodnight…” Srebral told her. Maybelle unexpectedly gave him a tight
hug. His tentacles wiggled as she nuzzled him.

“Goodnight, sir!” She cheerfully bid him farewell. He’s shocked at the emotional warmth he
felt from her as he slowly and gently returned her embrace. Brilanna and Wesmi were
peeking at them from the doorway of the break room, and they weren’t slick at all in hiding
their nosiness.

“Ladies! Do we have a staring problem?” He glared at them.

“No, boss!” Wesmi responded. Brilanna hastily went back to her cards.

“It is what it is. They already know. Brilanna’s such a gossip, but it makes her a valuable
asset to the vigileater agents.” Srebral relented.
“Goodnight, Maybelle. See you tomorrow.” He patted her head with a tentacle when she
released him and went on his way. Maybelle retreated into her room and changed her clothes
into the comfortable robes she arrived in. She decided to see what her co-workers were up to
when she finished.

“Hello!” Maybelle approached the group who were playing poker with the cards.

“Smells like it went well…” Brilanna mentioned.

“It did, actually. He wants to show me how he makes his wine soon, and we might get some
new menu items!” Maybelle announced.

“You mad lass…” Shelura grinned.

“Srebral never showed us how to make wine and I’ve been here longer than both you and
Shelura!” Brilanna sounded jealous.

“Why are you complaining? If we get to eat something other than potatoes or mushrooms,
I’m all for it.” Wesmi rolled her eyes at the drow. The hobgoblin woman was tiring of the
same stuff every day.

“Uh. It’s more potatoes, but it’s really really good! I promise. Also we might get some more
meat on the menu. Maybe. No promises.” Maybelle said.

“Finally!” Shelura said. Her orcish appetite for some protein might be sated!

“You know how to play poker?” Wesmi asked. Maybelle shook her head.

“I know how to play Whist and Old Wizard, but not poker.” Maybelle responded.

“That’s alright. Pull up a chair and we’ll teach you. You can teach us Old Wizard to repay
us.” Wesmi invited her. Maybelle eagerly joined them at the fourth seat, seating herself
between Shelura and Brilanna.

“Damn. You really do smell like him.” Shelura noticed. Maybelle bashfully smiled, her
cheeks turning pink.

“So anyway… The object of the game is to make the best five card hand using the standard
poker hand rankings…” Wesmi began explaining. Maybelle listened intently, learning how to
play. She loved working for Srebral and making friends with the others.

She loved it here. She vowed to do her best every day for the illithid that gave her more
companionship than she could have ever thought possible.
 Leaving Sanctuary
Chapter Summary

Addanil and the gang finally goes to the dungeon! (you) have a heart to heart with him
in your microcosm on the way.

Morning came. The light was not as harsh as yesterday’s morning. Addanil felt the gentle
touch of your warm hand against his cheek and instinctively curled a tentacle around your
wrist. He felt well rested as he leaned in and silently pressed his forehead to yours. “Good
morning.” He greeted you. It was a good morning indeed. The sky was overcast. You kissed
him softly.

“Good morning, love.” You spoke softly. The room was chilly and the bed was temptingly
comfortable, as if its warmth begged to hold you there. Addanil embraced you, enjoying your
warmth for just a moment longer.

“Damnable cold. It’s freezing in here. Bring me my clothes. I don’t want to get out of bed.”
He commanded.

“Say please.” You told him.

“What??” Addanil was confused.

“You have to say please when asking people to do something for you. It’s an important part
of surface etiquette.” You explained.

“That sounds completely pointless, but please bring me my clothes…” He rolled his eyes.
You slide out of bed, the cold wooden floor creaks softly under your bare feet. You collect his
clothing, but you don’t immediately hand them to him.

“And what do we say after someone does something for you?” You reminded him.

“Thank you…” He grumbled. You allow him to take his belongings from your hands. You
start getting changed into your travel gear as well. Once Addanil had his disguise secured,
you decided to meet the monster hunters at the tavern across the street. This was a quaint
little hamlet. You were actually rather enjoying it here even if you knew you wouldn’t be
staying here for long.
Bilban, Tavoril and Aseir weren’t here at the Bucket and Basilisk yet. “They better not have
decided to abandon us.” Addanil grumbled through his voice box.

“They’ll be here. The half elf is wrapped around my finger. The chances of them not showing
up are slim.” You said quietly.

“I did not need that reminder.” Addanil said. You sit down at a table. Your request for sausage
was met with a “Sorry, we’re sold out.”

“Dammit… Alright, I’ll just take the eggs…” You relented. “I actually hate it here. I just
want a good breakfast sausage.” You whispered to Addanil. Addanil softly chuckled.

“Maybe you’ll have better luck in the next settlement we travel to.” His illusory face had a
soft smile on it.

Bilban was the first to arrive. “Don’t bother ordering sausage. They don’t have any.” You told
him when he approached your table.

“Well that’s no way to start the morning!” Bilban sounded disappointed. At least there was
hot tea to be had and it was decent. By the time Tavoril arrived, you and Bilban were already
eating breakfast.

“Hey, Addanil, how come you’re not getting anything?” Bilban asked.

“I already ate because I don’t like the food here. We’re accustomed to richer tastes.” The
illithid in human disguise lied in such a blunt manner, it couldn’t be perceived as false.

“I guess beggars can be choosers.” Tavoril smiled and shook his head.

“Where’s Aseir?” Bilban asked Tavoril.

“Taking his sweet time as usual. I told him we’d leave without him if he didn’t get up.”
Tavoril replied.

“He’s always so inconsiderate of other people’s time…” Bilban sighed.

“Let’s be honest. The only reason you’re here first is for breakfast.” Tavoril poked a bit of fun
at the halfling.

“Because the food is best when it’s fresh! That’s a perfectly valid motivator!” Bilban said.
“There’s no sausage by the way.” Bilban added.
“Damn!” Tavoril groaned. He looked briefly at you. “I’d put my sausage in the bard...” He
thought to himself. It took everything in Addanil not to make his face glare intensely at
Tavoril. “Well at least you look bright eyed and bushy tailed!” He tells you. “Hopefully Aseir
shows his face soon.” The half-elf hoped.

“Well the early bird gets the worm, after all!” Addanil gave a cheerful grin. He reaches for
your hand on the table and holds it. “Isn’t that right, songbird?” He thought of a pet name for
you on the spot. You blushed at his nickname.

“Yes! The first ones there get the best opportunities!” You wondered what this sudden
affection was all about.

“If the half-elf touches you, I’m cracking his skull open with such excessive violence, I will be
using his skull fragments to scoop up the cerebral viscera.” He mentally told you, keeping a
smile on his face. You smiled nervously. Aseir finally showed up, without even apologizing
for keeping everyone else waiting.

“Ah, good! Everyone is already here!” Aseir said.

“That’s because you’re late.” Bilban said.

“They said in the morning. Not the crack of dawn!” Aseir argued.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here we can pile into the wagon and get going.” Addanil said.

“You’re going to make me leave on an empty stomach?” Aseir sounded offended.

“Don’t bother. There’s no sausage. It’s quith pa for you, friend.” Tavoril told him.

“What do you mean there’s no sausage? Ugh…” Aseir groaned in annoyance, pulling his
cloak back on. “You know, the fact that you’re smelling like butter pads doesn’t help.” Aseir
looked at “Ames”.

“I’m sorry??” Addanil sounded baffled. “You should have used the time you were making us
wait to eat.” He said. Tavoril chuckled at Addanil’s comment and handed his hand made
rations to Aseir.

“Come on. Let’s get going.” Tavoril encouraged his hungry friend.

Everyone got into the wagon and Addanil got the horses to move. They were stupider beasts
than quaggoths but regardless of the reduced intellect of his beasts of burden, he had no
trouble commanding them. You sat at the front of the wagon with him, leaning against him
for warmth. He wrapped his cloak around you and you felt yourself dozing off from how
comfortable you were in his embrace. “Shh. They’re falling asleep again. We woke up quite
early.” Addanil told the group. Despite the chill in the air, Addanil took off his cloak,
allowing you to use it as a blanket as you curled up and rested your head on his lap. You
never felt so safe to take a nap when you were in the Underdark.

“So, Ames, what made you decide to go dungeon delving for financial gain?” Bilban asked
Addanil quietly.

“Desperation.” He answered honestly. “Sure we had a couple things we could have sold but
one actually needs goods to trade and barter to be a merchant. I wasn’t willing to ask my
partner to sell off things that were sentimental to them.” Addanil said. “What got you three
into hunting monsters?” He asked them. He had only hoped they wouldn’t see him as prey in
the near future.

“When we take our hides to Dapplegate, the pay is good. Sure, it’s risky but it’s good work.”
Aseir said.

“I learned how to hunt from my mother.” Tavoril explained.

“Did the old man yell at you about this job?” Bilban asked. Tavoril’s father often yelled at
him when he got hurt.

“I didn’t tell him. I don’t need my parents arguing over it. He can yell at me when we’re
done.” Tavoril said.

“As for me, I guess I do it for the thrill. Most halflings would rather be safe and cozy, but I
never really fit in. I’d rather be in trouble than bored.” Bilban said. Addanil found Bilban’s
reasoning most perplexing of all. Who would willingly put themselves in danger for fun?
This bizarre halfling apparently would. It was idiotic to the illithid, but hopefully he would
prove himself to be a useful idiot.

Unfortunately for Addanil, Tavoril was the only person of the group who actually knew the
exact location of these ruins, so he had to tolerate him for the time being. He looked down at
you resting peacefully. He had to exercise restraint to not reach out and touch your hair with a
tentacle. “You’re still cold.” He pointed out.

“A bit…” You replied mentally.

“Would you want me to take your mind elsewhere for a bit? If you would allow it of
course…” He offered. He was giving you a choice? It occurred to you that he had always
given you the choice. You simply took the offer every time. You felt ashamed that the
priestess was able to put such horrid ideas in your head about Addanil’s character.
“All I need is a yes or no.” He tells you.

“Yes please.” You wrap his cloak tighter to you.

You were once again in the glade of daffodils. It was warm. Everything was lush and green.
The sky was a vibrant shade of blue. Addanil was in the glade, not as Ames but as himself.
There was a canvas on an easel in the middle of the glade. There was a cup of paintbrushes
but no paint. You didn’t need it. Your mind provided all the colors you needed. Addanil
taught you a year ago how to make them flow from your brush at your own whim. You still
remembered how to do it.

Your brush didn’t have a spec of paint on it, yet as it touched the canvas, it began turning
yellow and green and blue, blending together in a strangely colored sky of whimsy. The sky
changes to the whim of your canvas.

“What are you painting?” Addanil asked.

“Just experimenting with things…” You replied.

“You’re still upset about your actions at our reunion… I’ve forgiven you. I hold no ill feelings
towards you.” He assured you. He began to pick daffodils, trying to remember how you made
them into a crown.

“You may have started our… Intimate activities, but I encouraged you. It’s unlikely you
would have known to do any of those things if I didn’t desire them. I was tricked again, by
someone who didn’t even have psionics. How embarrassing…” You pouted softly.

You remembered now that you were the first person to kiss him. He didn’t even know what it
was. The drow priestess convinced you it was all an act. Lies and manipulation. You know it
wasn’t true now. “No matter what lies we tell to others, I will never attempt to deceive you.
You have my vow.” Addanil swore his honesty to you. You were adding the trees.

“I know that now…” You looked at what he was doing. He was weaving the daffodils into a
small wreath shape. What was he doing that for? You decided to leave him to it as you went
back to painting. To the canvas you began to add mushrooms. The caps were orange with
magenta undersides. The large mushrooms began to appear around the glade.

“Would you keep encouraging me? Would you continue pulling me into your fantasies and
desires?” Addanil asked you.

“I would be lying if I said no.” You admitted. “That sound you make when we finish is still
cute.” You softly teased him.
“I don’t know about cute…” He was blushing underneath his illusion outside of your
microcosm.

“I’m glad you let me hear it.” You tell him. You started adding soft floating orbs of light to
the painting, manifesting them into your surroundings. “You know, your euphemism for
fornication is kind of cute too. I like the way you call it an experiment.” You admitted to
him.

“Well I suppose it is better to be cute than hideous…” Addanil relented.

“I apologize if this personal question offends you. Have you ever conducted such experiments
with Yorix?” Addanil asked.

“No. He was disgusted by it. He told me that I was defiling myself. I had to wait until after
he’d gone to sleep so he wouldn’t catch me masturbating.” You made a face as you tried to
figure out what to do with the canvas.

“So that’s why my presence startled you the first time. You thought I would admonish you…
I’m of the firm opinion that Yorix was disgusting. You’re beautiful, even in your most primal
moments.” Addanil comforted you with the knowledge that you didn’t have to be ashamed.
Never again would he let anyone make you feel that way.

You turned to face him. He placed a crown of daffodils upon your head. “For my
songbird…” He cupped your chin, gently rubbing his thumb against your cheek.

“I couldn’t ask for a more handsome muse.” You whispered. You leaned in and softly kissed
his forehead. He embraced you in his arms and tentacles.

“I hate to do this, but It’s time to get up. We’re here…” He told you. You’re pulled from his
pleasant and warm embrace as you’re gently shaken by Addanil. You opened your eyes and
felt the cool air on your face. You sat up and stretched.

This place really was easy to miss. It was nothing but toppled ruins, robbed of almost all its
building stones. The way in wasn’t readily apparent. “Alright, Tavoril. How are we getting
in?” Addanil asked the half-elf.

“The entrance isn’t actually in either of the castles.” Tavoril explained. “I went snooping
around a while back. I found a well. It had a secret shelter inside. There were tunnels leading
deeper but I didn’t go poking around in them.” He said.

“A wise decision. Otherwise you might not be here to tell us about it.” Addanil said.
Aseir began to set up camp. “How long should I wait here?” Aseir asked.

“If these tunnels go as deep as the citizens of your hamlet believe they do, we might be down
there for a while. If we aren't back with an update by tomorrow, go back and inform your
friends and family.” Addanil said, giving a generous educated guess. Tavoril led the
remainder of the group to the well beyond where the courtyard of the two castles used to be.

“This is the place.” Tavoril peered into the well. There was a ladder leading down inside. The
half-elf listened intently for any signs of movement. It was silent.

“Sounds clear.” Tavoril started to climb down into the well, paused a few feet down, and
immediately climbed back up.

“What's wrong?” Bilban asked.

“There's a small rust monster nest down there.” Tavoril said.

“Surely we can exterminate them.” Addanil says.

“They're normally docile but they might swarm the bard for their dagger or their new sword.”
Tavoril said.

“And they might eat anything we come out with if it's ferrous, assuming we can get past
them.” Addanil grumbled.

“They weren't there before.” Tavoril said.

“Somebody must be feeding them.” Addanil reasoned.

“Well there's an interesting thought.” Bilban said.

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Ames?” You asked Addanil.

“Bait and strike?” Addanil’s illusory face had a smirk.

“Bait and strike.” You confirmed.

“I thought the saying goes bait and switch?” Bilban pondered aloud.

“You'll see what I mean.” You left them in suspense.

“Go get your mess kits from camp.” Addanil told him. “Please.” He quickly added. You
smiled, so proud that he was learning! “Don't look so smug about it…” He mentally told you.
Your smile only became even more smug.
Bilban returned to Aseir, getting the mess kits from the camp supplies. The halfling merely
explained to the Calishite man that he needed “rust monster bait”. Aseir gave him a confused
shrug and let Bilban take what he needed.

“How many do you think are down there, Tavoril?” Addanil asked.

“I saw four. Could be more. I didn't stick around long enough to get a good look.” Tavoril
guessed to the best of his knowledge.

They waited for Bilban to return with the mess kits. You took them and began tying them all
together with the rope you bought from Yuncharr’s Usefuls. It was obvious to Bilban and
Addanil you didn’t really know what you were doing. “That won’t work. Allow me…”
Addanil took the knot you were attempting away from you and tied them together in a far
more efficient way, tying all four of them together like one big carrot on a stick. “You were
always terrible at tying knots.” He privately told you.

“Show off…” You stuck your tongue out at him.

Addanil began lowering the rope into the well, seeing if the tin could get their attention. The
rope was just long enough for the mess kits to touch the ground. You peered down the well,
lute in hand and ready to cast. He then yanks the rope out of reach at the sight of an antennae.
Sure enough, all four rust monsters began clambering over each other to get at the tin as
Addnil pulled the mess kits up. “Now!” Addanil signaled. And so you sang.

“In this place, a shroud that staggers, come forth now my cloud of daggers.” You chanted
with elegant melody. The air below was filled with spinning daggers in the space where the
rust monsters were trying to get their tasty meal.

The rust monsters tried to scurry away from the daggers slicing into them but it was too late.
The daggers sliced into the creatures as they fled from the source of their pain and within
moments they stopped moving. “Looks like the rust has turned to dust.” You smirked.

“That was terrible!” Addanil groaned. Bilban shook his head while Tavoril laughed at your
pun. You shrugged with a grin on your face as Addanil pulled up the rope. After returning the
mess kits to the camp, You, Addanil and the rangers headed down into the well. Tavoril
pointed out what looked like a tunnel going deeper.

“This is it. I haven’t gone any further than this.” Tavoril said.

“With any luck, we can reach our destination and return…” You hoped.
“We’ve got our wits and strength. Probability is not the ultimate deciding factor.” Addanil
said.

“A little good luck never hurts!” Bilban said. You steeled yourself, peering into the darkness
of the tunnel. Addanil placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Remember. No amount of coin is worth your life. I’ll protect you at all costs…” He mentally
confided in you. As much as Addanil complained about your finances, he’d resort to more
savage acts of stealing and pillaging if it meant keeping you safe.

“I know you would, but wouldn’t it be riveting if we succeeded?” You asked Addanil.

“It is admittedly an alluring prospect. It is also a dangerous one, so stay close to me.” It was
time to enter the dungeon.
 A Breeder Named Slisskbax's Test
Chapter Summary

A Breeder Named Slisskbax tests out Vizaness' proposed escort thrall. Will Presmer pass
his test?

Today was the day. Presmer would be tested to see if he could become an escort or not.
Elzaphir was not only a masseur, he was also a skilled barber. He was making sure that
Presmer looked pristine and attractive. Valdran didn’t even have a smart remark or a joke to
tease Presmer with this time. He knew how important this was to Vizaness. Presmer knew he
was expected to be placed in a sexual position with the creed-master himself. He was nervous
but something about the situation was also exciting as well. He would be the third thrall from
Vizaness’ menagerie to be approved escorts if he succeeded. He would earn his gold collar.
He wanted nothing more than to be a Golden Boy that Vizaness could show off.

“You’ve got this, Presmer. You’ve just got to remember our mistress’ training. You’ll be
fine!” Valdran assured him. “Kalamash and Elzaphir went through the test and passed.” It
wasn't impossible. Valdran wanted him to know that. Elzaphir was styling Presmer's hair into
a textured quiff with a high hold.

“It's true that he can be rather rough. If you could still walk after dealing with Kalamash, you
can handle A Breeder Named Slisskbax. No matter what you must never ever shorten his
name. You must say the whole thing. A Breeder Named Slisskbax.” The drow reminded
Presmer.

“Vizaness told me that too.” Presmer confirmed. “It's such a weird name.”

“Sir and Creed-Master are acceptable forms of addressing him if you are too worked up to
say it right.” Elzaphir informed him to take off the pressure.

The drow ran a zurkhwood comb through the human's hair as he styled it. “What got you
through it?” Presmer asked.

“Lie back and think of Vizaness. Just do what he tells you to do and remember to make our
mistress proud.” Elzaphir said. “He had me give him a massage… Let's just say he was quite
reinvigorated by the time he was done with me. I honestly wish I could do it again but he
never spends time with the same thrall twice.” Elzaphir recounted.
“How come he never uses the same thrall twice?” Presmer asked.

“I think it's another one of his peculiarities.” Elzaphir answered.

“I could never pass his test because I think his fellow Creed-Master, Selessk, is too fine. He'd
probably get mad.” Valdran chuckled.

“Really!? She's so scary!” Presmer remarked.

“You're a lover, not a fighter. She'd never even glance your way, Valdran.” Elzaphir smirked.

“A man can dream, can't he?” Valdran saw nothing wrong with a harmless fantasy. He knew
her adamantine thrall, a hobgoblin champion, could easily kick his ass.

“Oh, to be a silent observer of their erotic dominance tournaments.” Valdran sighed

wistfully.

“The what tournaments?” Presmer asked, surprised by that combination of words strung
together.

“Right! You and Vizaness won the middle rank endurance title once, didn't you?” Elzaphir
asked the hobgoblin.

“Twice!” Valdran beamed proudly. “So you know standard dominance tournaments?” He
asked Presmer.

“Of course. One of your sons was a gladiator before they put a tadpole in him, wasn't he?”
The human confirmed. Presmer had observed tournaments when he was younger but he
wasn't able to make the cut to be a participant.

“He sure was! Ceremorphed last year. I hope he makes a fine Tamer.” Valdran confirmed.
Dominance tournaments in other cities are strictly to the death, but in Oryndoll, there is a less
lethal variant for illithids that don't believe in wanton wastefulness of thralls. “Unarmed and
armed tournaments are the two main categories of dominance tournament, along with
whatever the competitors agree on. Anything from no holds barred to first strike and anything
in between.” Valdran explained. “Erotic dominance is a much more private sport played in
The Breeding Pen, but it's just as competitive. There's two main variants of these duels. The
first is endurance, where the riding illithids try to push their opponent out of the headspace of
the opposing thrall. The ‘combatants’ can get additional points for dominating their
opponent, but it isn’t necessary to win. This is our mistress’ home turf. She often employs the
‘outlast strategy’.” Valdran explains.

“And the other one?” Presmer asked.

“It's like your standard unarmed dominance tournament but the combatants are naked.
Typically wrestling only, unless the riders agree to go harder. The participants are often
covered in oil. The winner gets to top the loser. The creed-masters apparently like to play this
variant. I heard they're tied 5 for 5.” Valdran shared.

“Don't let A Breeder Named Slisskbax hear you root for his opponent. He'll backhand you
into next week.” Elzaphir playfully warned.

“No kidding.” He whispered.

“He won't slap me, right?” Presmer asked nervously as Elzaphir was finishing his haircut.

“He might? Depends on his mood honestly.” Elzaphir said. “He slapped me but it wasn't
traumatic. Is it odd that I liked it? I thanked him…” The drow admits, laughing sheepishly.

“Yes. You're our resident freak.” Valdran said bluntly. “You'll do fine, Presmer. Mistress
wouldn't have bothered if she thought you didn't have a snowball’s chance in Avernus.”
Valdran said. Elzaphir handed a mirror to the human man so he could inspect himself.

Presmer started to smile at his reflection. “Elzaphir, you outdid yourself.” He complimented.
“I really like how it turned out.”

“I told you I was a man of many skills.” Elzaphir smiled smugly. Valdran took a closer look.

“It's not bad… I'll do your chores for a day if you'll trim my hair.” Valdran offers.

“Hm… It's a deal.” The drow agrees. Vizaness came to pick Presmer up from the menagerie.
She had Oceana and Kalamash with her. She would be leaving Kalamash in her menagerie.
Despite the half-orc’s lack of intelligence or social aptitude, he and Elzaphir liked to
occasionally spend time together. It was Elzaphir’s reward for working so hard, and
Kalamash got a massage out of it. Elzaphir often gave massages to other thralls in exchange
for favors as well.

“Oh my! Look how handsome you are!” The illithid gushed over the human thrall. She
squished his cheeks with her hands, and she felt the warmth of his cheeks on her fingers.
“You did an excellent job, Elzaphir.” She praised the drow. “I hope you haven’t been teasing
Presmer again, Valdran.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the hobgoblin. Elzaphir went
into the resting caverns with Kalamash, away from prying eyes and minds.

“N-no, Mistress! I was simply explaining the complexities of erotic dominance tournaments
to Presmer!” Valdran swore.

“Ah, there’s no thrall in my menagerie more educated on the subject than you.” Her tentacles
curled happily. “Come along, Presmer.” She encouraged him to follow her. He stayed close
to her on his trip to the breeding pen. Vizaness would be taking the opportunity to meet with
Vebeva to introduce her platinum thrall to Whim while Presmer was taking his test. It was
quite convenient scheduling on Whim’s part.

“Presmer, I won’t be able to come back with you for this.” Vizaness told him. She felt a pang
of anxiety from Presmer and turned to look at him. “Oh, don’t look at me with those sad
eyes… Have some confidence in yourself! You’re doing this for the honor of my menagerie. I
know you won’t let me down.” She expressed her faith in him. She had to. If he failed her,
she’d be devastated. She never told him this. She refused to put any more pressure on him
than she was already putting on herself.

“I can’t leave you frowning.” She gently booped his nose with her tentacle, and tickled his
side a little. Presmer giggled at her touch.

“Alright, Alright!” Presmer squirmed, grinning at her.

“There’s a smile from my cute thrall!” She ceased tickling him upon seeing him smile. She
didn’t have to wait long for Vebeva to arrive. She was quite the punctual ulitharid. In truth,
she was only ever on time for anything due to Whim.

“What a beautiful platinum thrall. You’ve kept her hair in such fine condition.” Vebeva
complimented.

It was rare for Vebeva to give a genuine compliment to someone. The praise pulled Vizaness
from her anxious mind. “Why thank you! It’s quite encouraging that my years of breeding
thralls had such a hidden gem. There was some interesting heritage in my inheritance.” She
told Vizaness. Oceana bows to Vebeva, impressing her further.

“And who’s this young man? He’s rather cute…” Vebeva looks directly at Presmer. He kept
his eyes cast down.

“This one is Presmer. He’s being interviewed to become an escort.” Vizaness said.

“Seems to be a shy one, isn’t he? I’m sure someone will find that adorable.” Vebeva
commented. She personally preferred thralls that would not only enthusiastically obey her,
but would do so competently.

“I really hope that someone is the creed-master…” Vizaness admitted.

A Breeder Named Slisskbax finally arrived to take Presmer off Vizaness’ hands. “This
scrawny looking thrall must be Presmer.” He didn’t sound very excited on first impressions.
Presmer gulped.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, A Breeder Named Slisskbax.” Presmer told him, bowing to him.

“Ooh. Proper form of address. I’ll have to give you points for that.” A Breeder Named
Slisskbax curled his tentacles in satisfaction.

“Go on, Presmer! Make me proud!” Vizaness encouraged. Presmer followed A Breeder
Named Slisskbax to his domicile, which was below the festhall. What Presmer immediately
noticed was that this place was far larger than the domicile an illithid showed him mentally
when he asked what an illithid’s home looks like.

“It’s one of the many perks of being an Elder Concord member.” The ulitharid sounded
smug. The domicile was opulently decorated. Painted portraits of himself were hung on the
walls. There had to have been at least four of them. They passed by the exercise room. Angel,
his blond haired aasimar thrall, was kickboxing. The hobgoblin training her could barely
keep up!

“Angel, you are in rare form.” A Breeder Named Slisskbax complimented her.

“Thank you, Master!” She turned to meet his gaze. “Ack!” Angel gets smacked across the
face by the hobgoblin.

“Don’t get distracted!” The hobgoblin trainer yelled at her. Angel proceeded to start directing
her attacks at the hobgoblin.

A Breeder Named Slisskbax ignores the hobgoblin man’s cries for mercy. He pulled Presmer
along to his personal chambers. It was just as opulent as the rest of the domicile. The moss
bed in the middle of the room was large enough for two ulitharids. Little did Presmer know,
he was standing in an arena. The large bedroom was the hosting ground for the Erotic
Dominance High Rank Championships.

Presmer wondered what to do. Should he disrobe now, or wait until he was commanded to?
The creed-master had other ideas. His 8ft long tentacles coiled and grasped at the fabric of his
robes. A Breeder Named Slisskbax tugs at the fabric. He uses his hands to roughly begin to
tear it apart as the tentacles effortlessly finish the job. “You won’t be needing any modesty
right now.” The festhall’s owner told him.

“Oh, fuck…” Presmer whispered. He was beginning to feel a familiar warmth and tingling in
his loins. He pivoted from anxious to aroused. He quickly realized that this was the highest
honor any thrall could be bestowed. This was his one in a lifetime chance to please the creed-
master. All he had to do was obey and take whatever he dished out.
He would have pushed Presmer onto the bed, if it weren’t for the fact that the thrall had
already gotten the memo. He eagerly climbed up. “How do you want to do this, sir?” Presmer
asked, sitting on the cool moss. It was practically luxurious. It was the softest pillow moss
ever cultivated in Oryndoll. This was a huge improvement from the anxious thrall he had in
his chambers a moment ago.

“A very astute question, Presmer.” A Breeder Named Slisskbax approached him. Presmer
felt himself pushed down onto his back even though no appendage of the ulitharid had
touched him. He’d never felt such a powerful presence in his mind and he felt absolutely
powerless to stop it. He didn’t want to stop it.

“You’re going to do whatever the hell I want you to do.” A Breeder Named Slisskbax was
very clear in what the thrall’s purpose was. Presmer felt his own hands moving on their own
accord, they gripped at his own throat. Presmer realized he was lightly choking himself and
the creed-master was making him do it. His cock started growing erect from the ulitharid’s
show of power over him.

“Yes, sir!” Presmer eagerly agreed.

“Say my name.” The creed-master commanded.

“A Breeder Named Slisskbax.” Presmer panted his name. His hands released his throat,
freeing him from the pressure he felt.

“Good boy.” The creed-master praised. The praise only made him all the more eager to
please.

A Breeder Named Slisskbax disrobed, using the fine silk sash to tie Presmer’s hands behind
his back in a secure arm tie. He then pulled the helpless human into his lap, wrapping his
tentacles around him. Presmer enjoyed the feeling of being marked by him. He was
comfortably wrapped in a warm and wet embrace that began rubbing his erection. Tentacles
coiled around his chest and legs. He shivered, unable to so much as squirm in his grip. He
was held perfectly still as he accepted his position. He opened his mouth to receive a tentacle,
moaning as he sucked on it.

The creed-master had to admit that not even Kalamash was this eager. It’s why the half-orc’s
main purpose was to train other thralls and help them get their pent up energy out, but thralls
like Presmer could fetch a high price with the right buyer. Even Elzaphir needed a bit of
coaxing but he gave such an incredible massage that he was able to pass with flying colors.
He noted that Presmer’s brain had flipped like a switch the instant he started to place the
human into submission. The creed-master purred approvingly. “You know your place quite
well…” He commented.
Presmer’s thoughts increasingly hurdled into servitude. “I want to be used. I need to be
used!” He mentally begged for it. A Breeder Named Slisskbax decided to test those claims,
pushing the tentacle in his mouth down his throat. He pulled back once he felt Presmer gag,
letting the human breathe. He desperately licked it even as he caught his breath. He
remembered his training with Elzaphir.

“Looked to be about 9 inches… That’s decent.” He found it harder to think because he was
tapping into Presmer’s lust. The human’s whimpery moans grew louder. Presmer knew he
didn’t have to worry about anything. The creed-master knew what he needed from him. He
knew how to get it. It was inevitable that he would be a good toy for his illithid masters and
he welcomed it.

A Breeder Named Slisskbax pumped Presmer’s erection at a steady pace. Presmer closed his
eyes. His toes curled as he grew ever closer. He didn’t even worry about cumming too soon.
He would cum when the creed-master said he could cum. Not a moment later or sooner.
“Very good… Angel! My chambers, now.” He called for his adamantine thrall. The aasimar
beauty rushed to her master without hesitation. “Assume the cum receptacle position.” She
kneels before him and Presmer. A Breeder Named Slisskbax used a tentacle to smoothly push
Angel’s head down on Presmer’s cock, sliding his other tentacle away from it in a smooth
transition.

Presmer let out a strained whimper letting out a high pitched grunt as he filled the adamantine
thrall’s mouth with his semen. She eagerly swallowed every drop. Presmer was gently pulled
onto the moss, laying on his side with a big dumb smile on his face. “Wow…” Presmer was
left weak by the ordeal.

“Angel, untie this thrall.” He commanded. For nearly half a minute, he was too stunned to do
it himself. As his bonds loosened, Presmer tiredly rolled onto his back, looking up at the
ceiling.

“Stay.” The creed-master ordered him. Presmer got comfortable, taking in the luminous paint
on the ceiling. It was a circular mandela with purple and blue glowing tessellations. He
studied the pattern of interconnected lines and diamonds.

He sat up when the creed-master returned and A Breeder Named Slisskbax was holding
something behind his back with a tentacle. In his hand, he had fresh robes, which he tossed to
the human thrall. Presmer caught the garment and put it on. The ulitharid unlocked the collar
around his neck. He revealed a golden collar. “I believe this is yours.” He put it on the
thrall’s neck. “Welcome aboard, Presmer. We’ll make arrangements for your introduction to
your new job post haste!” He announced.
Presmer smiled brightly. “Thank you, A Breeder Named Slisskbax! It’s an honor to serve!”
He enthusiastically bowed to him.

“Vizaness, I am returning your thrall to you.” He informed her from the comfort of his
domicile. He failed to mention the results, leaving her in suspense. He directed Presmer to
return to his mistress. Presmer knew he had made her proud and he couldn’t wait to show off
his new collar.

He was officially a Golden Boy.

 Meet and Greet
Chapter Summary

While Presmer is being tested by the creed master, Vizaness and Vebeva catch up.
Vizaness challenged Vebeva to a rematch.

After Presmer was handed off to the creed-master, Vebeva and Vizaness entered the private
noble’s room. Oceana had never seen such an opulent space before. “Are you impressed?”
Vebeva asked.

“Yes. It is a great honor to meet you and Whim.” She bows courteously.

“Make yourselves comfortable. I’d like to chat with Vizaness before we begin.” The ulitharid
encouraged them. Oceana and Whim would get to speak and get to know each other while
indulging in the finest foods that thralls in the city could eat.

“I’m glad that your prize thrall is once again in good health. Truth be told, some of us
breeders were quite concerned when he fell ill.” Vizaness said.

“I’m sure you were. I get an average of 12 breeding requests monthly, so you’ll have to
forgive me if your qualith tablet got mixed in with those of the peons.” She apologized half-
heartedly.

“Well I’m glad you considered it.” Vizaness responded.

“It’s not often we get requests from worthy thralls, but when you revealed you had such a
rare thrall, we simply had to look at what you were offering. A meet and greet if you will.”
The ulitharid checked in on her thrall socializing Vizaness’. They seemed to be getting along
quite well, and Vebeva had a few suspicions about why they got along so well.

“Although… I do have to wonder why you sent those requests while your thrall was still
using nararoot. Did you merely wish to show off?” She teased the illithid. Vizaness’ face
turned pale.

“Damn… I knew you’d go digging, but I thought I buried my activities well enough.”
Vizaness admitted.

“Oh ho ho ho! I should be angry with you for wasting my time, but honestly? I get it. I had
planned to breed Natiri until I realized I thoroughly dislike the sound of crying newborn
thralls. Besides, Natiri does not desire motherhood. Tieflings apparently have high rates of
child abandonment and to imagine one of Whim’s offspring being rejected by their mother…
Let’s just say I’m not encouraging Whim to contribute to any statistics.” Vebeva understood
where Vizaness was coming from. The illithid’s rigid posture relaxed, releasing a breath she
didn’t know she was holding.

”What’s got you so anxious?” Vebeva asked. She could cut the tension with a blade.

“I’m fine. I always get this way when introducing a new thrall to A Breeder Named
Slisskbax.” Vizaness said.

“Aww, how cute. You’re older than me and you still get antsy to please your creed master?”
Vebeva teasingly wrapped a tentacle around one of Vizaness’ tentacles. Her cheeks felt hot at
her teasing.

“Wanting to impress your creed-master is a perfectly normal thing to want to achieve!”

Vizaness squeezed back, her face growing completely pale.

“I’ll share a little wisdom with you since I’m in a generous mood. Do not borrow grief from
the future, Vizaness. If you worry and it goes poorly, then you’ve punished yourself twice. If
you worry and it goes well, then you’ve suffered once, but completely needlessly. If you don’t
worry and it goes well, then you can move on without hurting yourself in the first place.”
Vebeva told her. Vizaness relaxed, the building warmth in her cheeks slowly releasing.

“Hadn’t thought of it like that…” Vizaness pondered.

“Of course you didn’t, squire.” The ulitharid teased. “So I heard you sold Srebral a new
thrall. How’s that mediocre peon doing?” She asked to further distract her from her anxiety.

“Yes. He selected Maybelle. She seems to be doing well. I want to check in with him
personally at some point. He knows he’ll be penalized harshly if he consumes this one.”
Vizaness said. Vebeva released her hold on Vizaness.

“You’re kidding! The one with the large chest? Didn’t you say you weren’t going to sell her?”
Vebeva asked. Zusrall had liked that thrall quite a bit, but he understood that Srebral needed a
personal thrall if he was to continue functioning in their colony. She was rather charming.

“I said I wouldn't sell her to just anybody. I’m an expert matchmaker in finding compatible
personal thralls for my clients. Maybelle happened to be what I thought he needed. In fact,
he’s probably got his tentacles all over her already.” Vizaness’ eyes squinted smugly.

“You and I both know that these intimate activities with our thralls are exhilarating and at
times these connections can be…” She looked at Whim fondly. “deeply personal, but why go
through the trouble of instilling such primal emotions in your clients?” Vebeva asked.
“It’s simple really. It gets us more business. Patronage such as yours is greatly appreciated.
Every creed needs thralls and therefore, we are one of the most influential creeds in Oryndoll.
It’s a good and cheap way of extending a rapport to other creeds.” Vizaness explained.

“Delightfully devilish, Vizaness. I do suppose there is value to be gleaned from your services
and Zusrall’s. I have a better relationship with my personal thralls than I ever thought
possible. I am creating a psionic seal for Whim.” She admitted.

“I’m surprised you haven't already done so.” Vizaness was sure he would have had one
already. Such seals allowed the illithid that made them to know a thrall’s mental status,
location and health of a thrall. It used to denote individuals of great importance to the mind
flayer they belonged to.

“I’ve only had him for a year. Of course I wasn’t going to count my proverbial eggs before
they hatched. He has become deeply important to me.” Vebeva admitted. Whim had
impressed her more than any other thrall she’d ever had. She could never find one she agreed
with until she took an expedition on a surface raid and that thrall happened to be Whim. “Did
you ever figure out that bond nonsense you were blubbering about?” She asked.

Such seals were a significant investment of time to make. Vizaness knew Zusrall was making
a psionic seal for his thrall as well. Maybe she should make one for Kalamash… “I did,
actually. Thank you very much.” Her tentacles curled smugly.

“It’s Kalamash, isn’t it?” Vebeva had a strong sense of their closeness. Vizaness covers her
face with her tentacles shyly.

“Yes.” Vizaness admitted. “Although I care for all my Golden Boys quite a bit.”

“Elzaphir is quite a treat but I still prefer Whim’s touch.”

“Of course you do. So… How about a rematch?” Vizaness challenged the ulitharid.

“I think the sport of Erotic Dominance Tournaments is stupid.” Vebeva said. Vizaness started
to laugh.

“Why? Because I beat you in a casual game that doesn’t count for anything? Don’t tell me
you find the two time middle rank champion to be intimidating!” She taunted. Vizaness had
won ranked places in these tournaments six times. 1st place twice, 2nd place twice and 3rd
place twice.

“Oh, you little brat! You’re on!” Vebeva had great difficulty turning down challenges.
“Whim. I’d like to borrow you for a moment. I’ve got a dominance score to settle with
Vizaness.” Vebeva said. She never told him about the game she played with Vizaness but he
willingly allowed his mistress to take control.

“Of course. My mind and body are at your everlasting disposal.” He allowed her in. Oceana
smirked when Vizaness took control.

“Ooh, is this a dominance game, Mistress?” She asked.

“Consider this a practice round.” Vizaness told her platinum thrall.

“Would it be acceptable for me to be privy to this game’s rules?” Whim inquired. The two
thralls move to the bed and begin undressing. He found himself starting to get excited to
serve.

“You never did explain in detail.” Vebeva remarked.

“I thought my sport was stupid.” Vizaness teased. “The thralls don’t need to know the rules
since they aren’t in control, but I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. The rules are simple.
We’ll play the endurance variant like last time. However, in this game we’ll be riding our own
thralls. That is the usual tournament format. Whoever “falls off” first, loses.” She explained.

All this talk of variants, ranks, and formats was strange to Vebeva. It was like listening to that
gnome ceremorph ramble about horses. She frankly didn’t care. “It’s a game of few rules but
one of them is to not fight dirty by discomforting the opponent’s thrall. It’s a tactic that is
likely to cause fights between illithids and ruin the experience of the observers. Zusrall saw a
physical altercation one year. Three fouls and you’re disqualified.” She threw in a bit of
gossip with her explanation.

“Seems simple enough.” Vebeva remarked. She wanted to know how the hell she managed to
lose such a simple game.

Oceana began kissing Whim. His lips traveled from her lips to her neck. The human butler
enjoyed the water genasi’s company but wished he was kissing his mistress instead.

“Whim, those are such distracting thoughts!” Vebeva blushed.

“Can you blame me?” Whim asked mentally. “You’re magnificent, Mistress.”

“I’ll make the playing field more level for you this time, since you’re new to this game.”
Vizaness announced. Oceana pushed Whim down and aligned herself so that each thrall’s
mouth was near the other’s genitals.
“Nice. Our thralls are of compatible heights.” Vizaness’ tentacles curled smugly. Oceana
obediently opens her mouth as her mistress starts making her bob her head up and down on
the human’s hardening shaft. Vebeva let out a frustrated groan. “You don’t have to be on top
to win. That’s a common misconception among beginners.” Vizaness assured her.

“Whim, I hope you know how to do this…” Vebeva told him.

“I’ve got you covered, Mistress.” Whim bolstered her confidence. It was strangely pleasant.
It wasn’t your usual domination. It was as if they were moving together as one. Oceana
moaned as Whim’s tongue worked its way between her moist folds. The water genasi
fantasizes about her mistress’ tentacle teasing her. Vizaness found herself distracted
momentarily by her thrall’s thoughts. She moves Oceana’s hand to begin jerking off the thrall
beneath her.

Soft gooey moans started to come out of the illithid’s mouth. “I’ll admit, she’s good.” Whim
thought. His breath began to hitch. “But you’re far superior…” He greatly enjoyed her slick
tentacles. She shouldn’t discourage him from praising her, but it was such a distraction. Or
was it? Her head was swimming. The urge to touch her prized thrall was growing. Oceana
shivered at Whim’s licking. It was too much! She couldn’t focus.

“It’s too sensitive!” She groaned. Vizaness knew that perhaps this thrall wouldn’t be a good
fit for erotic dominance tournaments. She’d never last like this. She moved Oceana away
from Whim’s mouth and further onto the bed. She bent over, presenting herself to him.

“Please… Please fuck me!” Oceana begged. Vebeva wondered what it would be like to
dominate a thrall like this.

“Our foe is weak! Let us strike now!” Vebeva encouraged. Whim moved behind the water
genasi and felt himself pushing deep inside of her.

“Oh, yes… Whim…!” Vebeva groaned in a gooey voice. “You put in a lot of effort for
this…” She noted. His hips were moving on their own.

“A-anything for you.” He reached out and pulled Oceana’s long luxurious hair. The act
elicited a gasp from Vizaness. Oceana liked that a lot more than the illithid was expecting.

“Mmph! Use meee!” Oceana begged. She was doing this to make her mistress feel good. She
was going to play along to the best of her ability. She began backing up against him, taking
him more roughly. Vebeva gave control of his hips back to Whim. The way he used Natiri
was proof of his competence. “Ah! Ah! I-! Ahn! Yes! Fuck!” Oceana’s broken cries of
pleasure accompanied her mistress’ whimpers.
“Good boy!” She felt on top of the world right now, putting the other thrall in their place.
Her teamwork with Whim naturally caused her to gravitate to her favored thrall.

She approached him, giving into her urges. Her tentacles embraced her thrall. She could feel
Whim’s pleasure increase considerably from her touch. “Oh yes…!” Whim hissed softly. Her
praise and touch put him into a daze as he pounded Oceana. His movements felt automatic,
pushing through his exertion with eagerness. Vizaness giggled through her moans.

“You're n-not- Supposed to touch- Your thrall in a duel! Disqualified! Ah!” Vizaness
announced.

Vebeva glared at Vizaness. “You…! You can't win by omitting a rule!” She argued. Whim
slowed his pace, ready to act on his mistress’ command. He couldn't allow anyone to
besmirch Vebeva’s honor. Not even an illithid.

“True… I think we'll call this a draw then.” Vizaness partially conceded.

“Whim. Harder.” Vebeva commanded. The human butler went back to treating Oceana
roughly.

“Mmph! Your thrall is good but you won't outdo me with brute force!” Vizaness taunted.

“Perhaps not…” Vebeva conceded. She forcibly pulled Vizaness towards her with
telekinesis. “But I can play mind games just fine.” She restrains the smaller illithid with her
tentacles and Vizaness let out a gurgled shout.

“Shut up. I'm not going to hurt you, squire. Whim, cum on this insolent brat.” She
commanded.

Vizaness’ face turned pale.

“Are you in distress, Mistress?” Oceana asked.

“Oh no. You're threatening me with a good time. How terrible…” Vizaness said sarcastically.
Whim pulled out of the water genasi and promptly obeyed his mistress.

“Filthy little freak…” Vebeva muttered.

“I'll service him myself.” Vizaness attempted to further annoy the ulitharid. Vebeva pushed
the illithid onto her hands and knees.
“By all means, go ahead. I won't tell. Although it should be no surprise that one who spends
their days around whores acts like one.” She said. Oceana watched this erotic aggression
with interest. “Well? Go on. You weren't bluffing were you?”

“May I join in?” Oceana asked, not wanting her mistress to be humiliated alone.

Whim felt amusement and a questioning feeling from his mistress. He responded mentally
with confirmation. “Sure. Go for it, Oceana.” There wasn't a single thought of whatever had
been making Vizaness anxious. She'd successfully been distracted. Oceana sucked on his
cock while Vizaness coiled her tentacles around his balls and the base of his shaft. Vebeva
once again embraced her favored thrall. Every other sensation came secondary, even as
Vizaness entered his mind. He lovingly kissed Vebeva’s tentacle, his mind slowly turning into
warm static.

“That's my good boy. Show them who's boss…” Vebeva praised. Her breathing grew heavier
as she pulled his mind against her's.

“I'll always fight for your honor. I love you.” He panted.

“I adore you, Whim.” Vebeva admitted in a rare moment of tenderness. She had no shame
saying this in front of Vizaness. As far as she was concerned, they all had secrets.

Oceana pulled back and had a mischievous grin on her face. When she thought Whim was
close, she reached over, slowly pushing her index finger into Vizaness’ cloaca. She gasped
loudly. Oceana began to finger her. “Oh God-Brain! Yes! Yesyesyessss!” She pushes her
overwhelming pleasure into Whim's mind.

“Mmm-!! Aaugh!! Aaah…!” He practically exploded on the illithid's face, coating her in his
semen.

Whim fell back into his mistress’ embrace, spent and euphoric. “Wow… I don't know what
happened but that was… Swell.” Vebeva laid back, holding her thrall close to her.

“Yes… Oceana, don't you EVER do that without permission again… But that was good.”
Vizaness was trying to regain her bearings.

“You know you loved it.” Vebeva's tentacles curled around her favored thrall in a tender hug.
“My precious Whim enjoyed himself immensely.” She pressed her forehead against his. Whim
smiled brightly, kissing her face softly.
“Vizaness, I am returning your thrall to you.” Vizaness heard A Breeder Named Slisskbax
inform her. Vizaness shot up from where she was laying. “Oceana, clean me up! Hurry!
Presmer's coming!” She hurriedly put her robes on. Oceana wiped her face clean with a
towel. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck…” She anxiously said. She opened the door when Presmer arrived
and saw him wearing a gold collar.

She stopped in her tracks and stared. She pulled him into a tight hug, pulling him into the
room and spinning with him. “Yes!! I knew you could do it! Welcome to The Golden Boys!”
Vizaness cheered.

“See? You had no reason to suffer.” Vebeva sat up and started pulling on her clothes. “I still
think erotic dominance duels are stupid.” She told Vizaness.

“Well thank you for playing my stupid game with me… It helped.” Vizaness felt much better.

“I suppose it was a win-win?” Vebeva pondered.

“Isn't that just a draw by another name?” Vizaness asked teasingly.

“Don't push your luck.” The ulitharid said firmly.

“A win-win it is.” The illithid concedes.

“Those robes look slightly different… Did something happen to them?” She asked Presmer.
He poked his fingers together.

“The creed-master ripped them. Don't worry. He didn't hurt me.” Presmer assured his
mistress. She seems satisfied.

“Come, my thralls! We must celebrate!” Vizaness was going to treat her Golden Boys to a
feast. It was the perfect excuse to check in on Srebral. Food from The Skull Cup for all of her
Golden Boys and Oceana. She just had to gather the rest of her Golden Boys from the
menagerie.

Today's meet and greet went quite well.

 Insecurity
Chapter Summary

Vizaness stops by The Skull Cup to see how Srebral is getting along with Maybelle. She
gives him an interesting proposal.

Srebral was looking down at Maybelle on his table. She was in that pink dress, but something
was very wrong. She looked up at him with terror and fear. He felt a presence and looked at
the doorway of his domicile. Brilanna was standing in the doorway, staring at him. He
couldn’t see her facial features. She said nothing. He looked down at Maybelle who had a
hole in her skull. “B-bu-but… But I….” He could only stammer and shake.

His eyes shot open. “What the fuck…?” He hated having nightmares like that. It wasn’t even
the first time he’d had dreams like that. Nightmares about Brilanna waiting to clean up his
messes. He hated it! He didn’t want to hurt Maybelle. He had no desire to harm her. When his
dreams weren’t mundane and unmemorable, they were terrifying. He kept his night terrors to
himself. He worried he’d be seen as a loon if he talked about his own mind scaring him in his
sleep.

He dragged himself out of bed and threw on his robes. He was used to the lonely silence of
his domicile. He gathered his own breakfast, putting in no effort to crack a raw diatryma egg
into his mouth. Today he was going to introduce those new menu items so he had no time to
ruminate on that nightmare. He brought himself to the Skull Cup. He saw Maybelle getting
her apron on for work in the back. “Good morning, sir!” She greeted him. He returned her
greeting with a brief hug. It wasn’t a big deal. The other employees had already seen her hug
him. Maybelle wasn’t sure why he had hugged her but she was happy. It wasn’t often she got
hugged by anyone.

“I made a new sign for our soup! Do you like it?” Maybelle eagerly held up a small
chalkboard which had a drawing of a tiny potato with a smiling face stirring a big pot of
potato soup. It read in Undercommon “Try our loaded potato soup and garlic sporebread!”
and “Limited time braised short ribs!”

Srebral stared at the drawing for several moments. The drawing seemed a bit childish to him,
but she seemed to be really happy about it. “I can erase it if you want something else.”
Maybelle said. Brilanna had told her it was cute.

“It’s fine. Go ahead and put it out front.” He couldn’t bear to crush her enthusiasm. Maybelle
smiled brightly at his approval.

“Yes, sir!” Maybelle happily obeyed, placing the new promotional sign out front.

Maybelle spent her day selling the customers on the new menu items, enthusiastically telling
the guests how good the recipes were. She had even eaten a cup of it on her lunch break with
Wesmi, who had enjoyed it as much as she did. “You really outdid yourself, Maybelle.”
Wesmi complimented.

“Oh, but I didn’t do anything, really. Srebral’s the one that made the recipe.” Maybelle said.

“And would he have put it on the menu without you? It’s been a long time since he played
around with new recipes here. We haven’t had a special in months…” Wesmi admitted.
“Whatever you did, keep up the good work.” The hobgoblin gave her a soft smile.

“You’re welcome! I’m glad I could help.” Maybelle sipped her soup.

She wasn’t sure what it was she had actually done other than be kind to Srebral, but she was
happy to be doing a good job. Unfortunately, Brilanna didn’t really like the soup but at least
she enjoyed the garlic sporebread. The drow entered the break room. “Hey! Rothe tits!
There’s someone here to see you.” She told Maybelle. The human woman blinked in surprise.
She’d never had a visitor before. She slurped down the rest of her soup and headed out to the
main tavern area. She was pleased to see who it was! It was Vizaness and her Golden Boys!
She knew Kalamash and Presmer by name. She thought that Kalamash was such a sweetie at
the bath house.

Thralls did not eat in The Skull Cup often but every once in a while an illithid brought their
thrall in as a treat. “Vizaness! Hello! And is that a gold collar on Presmer?? Congratulations!
Oceana! I always knew you’d be platinum!” Maybelle greeted them brightly. Vizaness was
glad to see she was in high spirits. “Oh, but if you’re ordering, I’m actually on break right
now. Brilanna can help you!” She waved over the drow. Vizaness thought the two women
were like night and day. Brilanna didn’t smile as much as Maybelle. She’d never seen a drow
so flat chested!

“I’m actually here to speak with your master. Enjoy the rest of your break.” Vizaness allowed
her to go back to her break.

“Welcome to The Skull Cup. What can I get for you? Would you like to try one of our
specials today?” Brilanna asked with less enthusiasm than Maybelle would have.
“You boys go ahead and get whatever you want. In moderation. That means no getting drunk
on the stout, Valdran.” Vizaness tells them.

“I’ll be good, Mistress! Honest!” The hobgoblin promised.

“I’ll hold you to it.” She said, leaving her thralls to enjoy their lunch. Srebral came out of the
kitchen to meet her. He was the head chef while Wesmi was on break, keeping the other
cooks in line. “Cooking? Isn’t that thrall work?” She asked

“I’m the only one besides Wesmi who knows what the hell they’re doing. My employees need
their meal breaks to perform properly.” He sounded like he could snap at the slightest
provocation from her.

“Oh, the kitchen won’t fall apart in the few minutes I’m talking to you. Surely your remaining
thralls aren’t wholly incompetent. How else would they have survived this long?” She tried
to calm him down, but it implied that his short staffing is his own fault.

“What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?” Srebral was exasperated with her quite
quickly.

“Can we talk in your office?” Vizaness asked.

“Fine. Whatever. Come on.” He pokes his head into the kitchen. “I’m going into a meeting.
Margur! I swear to God-Brain if you burn one more plate of ribs you’re fired!!” He informed
the cooks and then yelled at a lizardfolk.

He led Vizaness to his office. “Is it normal for breeders to bother their clients after a
purchase?” Srebral asked.

“There’s no need to be so suspicious of me. I was just treating my thralls to a meal for their
hard work. Presmer got appraised and placed within a new job recently and surely that’s
worthy of a reward…” Vizaness said with an innocent tone. “Although curiosity is nagging
at me. How are you and Maybelle getting along? Do you like her?” She asked.

He wasn’t sure how to answer that question in words. His mind felt like tangled knots. “She’s
perfect…” He settled on. Why was she here? Did she really think he ate her brain already?
They were probably taking bets at the breeding pen.

“You don’t sound very pleased about that. It’s technically none of my business since we’re not
in the same creed but you’re worrying me.” Vizaness says.

“I’m fine!” Srebral insisted.

“The state of your staffing says otherwise…” The breeder pointed out.
“I don’t want to hurt Maybelle!” He let that thought slip. Try as he might to hold onto tightly
and keep it in, it burst from his psyche like an overstuffed bag of holding. “I have nightmares
about it! About losing my temper and eating thralls in a fit of rage. About her looking at me
like she’s scared of me!” He wasn’t sure if he should have said any of that. He couldn’t take it
back. Vizaness looked at him, slowly blinking as she processed that.

“You’ve already become intimately familiar with her, haven’t you?” She asked smugly.

“Well-! It wasn’t my fault! She got into an argument with Brilanna and I told them to kiss and
make up and she took it literally! And then- Wait, what does this have to do with anything!?”
His face began flushing pale.

“Sir, I’ve bred thralls with libidos so immense, you’d think they were bards. I work in a
festhall. I’m not judging where you stick your tentacles in private company.” Vizaness
assured him that she didn’t care.

“But why are you asking?” Srebral put his face in his hands.

“You’re not going to hurt Maybelle.” Her tentacles curled softly as if smiling. She sat herself
on his desk.

“How are you so sure? You don’t know me!” Srebral’s tentacles writhed in frustration.

“If I reveal all my secrets at once, it won’t be of any value to you.” She teased. “It’s easier to
show you. You, Me, Maybelle and Kalamash. I’ll take you to the back rooms any time you
like.” She offered.

“You’re a pervert!” He sounded disgusted.

“Oh, and you aren’t? Having a thrall carry her in that low cut dress through the rings? You
need to be a bit more discreet, fungus brain.” Vizaness told him. “The pot is calling the kettle
black, no?”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that…” He insisted, covering his face with his tentacles.

“Suuuure it wasn’t.” Vizaness giggled. “You aren’t obligated to do anything, but it’s very
obvious to me that you have very deep rooted issues with stress. I’m offering you new avenues
to do something about it.” Vizaness was slyly selling him on her services.

“Maybelle’s already helping me with my stress. Thank you very much!” Srebral tried to reject
her offer.
“Oh, I’m sure she is. Yet here you are frightened that you’re going to bring it all crashing
down… You can’t let yourself be satisfied. Your creative mind always seems to find a new
source of anxiety.” Vizaness pointed out.

He wanted to be angry but he instead felt resignation. “God-Brain dammit, you’re right…”
He rubbed his face. “But how’s that big lug out there going to help and why do you even
care??” Srebral asked.

“Kalamash is capable of doing things that you can’t. For some reason a lot of illithids in
these types of ‘intimate bonds’ seem to desire to kiss their thralls. A thrall can do that
because we don’t have lips. Also some thralls quite enjoy how well endowed he is. So unless
you can manifest a penis out of thin air, I don’t think you’ll be pinning her into a mating press
anytime soon.” She answered his first question.

“Vizaness! That’s filthy!” Srebral’s face turned pale. Vizaness got off of his desk and leaned
over it to get a good look at him.

“You thought about it, didn’t you?” She teased. “You can tell me. I practice utmost
discreteness. I never even publicly disclosed that I sold her to you in the first place.” She
assured him.

“It’s really dumb but sometimes I pretend in my mind that she’s my captive and that I get to
have my way with her…” His cheeks burned with shame.

“Sexual roleplay? That’s such a fun and creative fetish. Kalamash is totally into the whole
orc warchief with a harem thing. He knows it’s all pretend and he doesn’t take it seriously, but
he enjoys it all the same. I think he might be a good fit for you.” Vizaness seemed
enthusiastic. He had nothing to be ashamed of.

The depths of Vizaness’ sexual knowledge was surprising to him, but then again he had
equally useless culinary knowledge. Who was he to judge? The fact that she didn’t even seem
to care and was actually excited about what he said was all the more surprising. “As for your
other question… While your position in our colony isn’t the most glamorous it certainly
serves a purpose. As you said, you’re the only one who is experienced in the innkeeping and
tavern business. You run a fair inn despite your bouts of being… Hangry?” She explained.

“Hangry??”

“A portmanteau I learned from my thralls. It means to be bad-tempered or irritable as a

result of hunger, and you definitely show signs of stress eating.” She pointed out. “We can
not afford to place an illithid of lesser experience in your position at this time, so when you
reached out to me to purchase a thrall I did my research into you and took it upon myself to
find a thrall that would aid you with stress management.” She admitted. She wanted the good
of her community first and foremost and if Srebral had to establish a bond with Maybelle to
do it, it would be done.

“So you’re trying to sell me additional ‘services’ and wrapping it up in a bow of concern and
care.” Srebral said.

“I won’t lie that I do gain financial benefits and knowledge from my actions. I don’t run a
charity, but it’s good and cheap entertainment if for some reason you can’t afford a trip to the
Succulent Encephalon.” She began selling him on this. “That isn’t to say that I don’t care
about where Maybelle fits into all this. Most of my thralls are bred for the entertainment of
other illithids in this city. Whether it be gladiators, performance eating or more private
entertainment. However, I’ve found that those that become personal thralls are special
individuals.” She could tell that Srebral was infatuated with her.

“Maybelle is honestly a delight.” Srebral admitted. “She’s nice to all the customers. She loves
to learn new skills. She takes an interest in my brewing. She’s a bit loud sometimes and naive
but she makes me feel like there’s a point to all this. She makes me feel good about myself.”
He said. “She wouldn’t like me nearly as much if she knew what a monster I really am. Why
the fuck am I having nightmares about her brain being eaten and Brilanna coming to clean
up my mess?” He had no idea that Maybelle already knew.

“Srebral, she’s a thrall. Of course she knows. I think you’re just giving yourself stress
nightmares.” Vizaness idly picked up one of the figures on his desk with a tentacle,
inspecting it as they spoke. It was a mouse made of green aventurine. It was a resonance
stone that radiated feelings of decisiveness. “This one’s cute. Who made this?” She asked.

“I did… I didn’t imprint the feeling on it, I just carved it.” He admitted.

“I want one. I’ll commission you to make me one. I’ll give you two mindgates from human
sages and your first trip to The Breeding Pen, should you choose to accept it, will be
completely free of charge.” She offered. It was an interesting proposal, and he found himself
sucked into negotiating with her.

“I don’t have any aventurine on hand right now. I mostly work with ornamental stones. I’ll
make you two of them if you’re willing to settle for a cheaper stone. Any particular colors you
want?” He gave a counter offer.

“Either a bright red or a violet blue.” She requested.

“I’ve got plenty of fluorite in both colors. It also carves pretty well.” He manifested an image
of it in his mind from memory.

“That is rather pretty!” Vizaness remarked. “For the second stone, feel free to take whatever
artistic liberties you wish. I’ll turn them into new resonance stones. You have a deal. I
suppose I should get back out there and make sure Valdran is behaving himself.” Her
tentacles curled with contentment.

“Yes… See you around.” He bid her farewell. Maybelle was right at the door when Vizaness
opened it.

“Oh, excuse me!” She was startled. She moved aside to allow Vizaness to leave. “Sir, we just
ran out of onions.” Maybelle announced.

“Did you check the cellar?” Srebral asked.

“Yes, sir. Wesmi showed me where it’s supposed to be kept.” She confirmed.

“Alright. Tell Shelura to take you to the market and get some more.” He produces a coin
pouch from a lockbox and looks away sheepishly as he presses the pouch down into her
cleavage, hiding it from sight.

Vizaness quietly giggled at the display. “What?? There’s no safer place to put money! She
can’t lose it and no one can steal it.” Srebral argued. “I thought you were leaving.”

“Fair enough…” She had that smug look on her face. “See you around.” She winked at him
before going back out to join her thralls.

“I’ll be right back with those onions, sir! Our new offerings are so popular, we’ve already
gone through almost more than half a pot with Vizaness’ table alone! Those guys must have
eaten enough to feed ten men.” Maybelle remarked, pleased that his new offerings were
going over so well with the customers.

“Thank you, Maybelle. Hurry back. Brilanna needs help upstairs when you get back.” He
gave her a gentle head pat and sent her on her way. He wouldn’t talk to her about his
conversation with Vizaness during work hours. It wasn’t the time for that.

As Maybelle was leaving Vizaness was shocked at how much her Golden Boys had ordered,
and they were eating all of it. “Whaaaaaaat!? Kalamash, how did you manage to eat three
bowls?!” She hadn’t expected her Golden Boys to run up a tab of 5 gold pieces. That was
nearly half a mindgate! She was certain she kept Kalamash well fed. How could he have
eaten three bowls!?
“It was yummy…” Kalamash had a content smile on his face, patting his stomach. Nearly
everyone had more than one dish in front of them. Even Presmer.

“Sorry, Mistress. We asked for seconds…” Presmer said.

“The new food is so good, we couldn’t help but to eat like kings!” Valdran said.

“I guess boys will be boys, Mistress.” Oceana smiled, shaking her head.

“You did say we could get whatever we wanted, Mistress.” Elzaphir pointed out and took a
sip of his wine. Oceana was the only one that hadn’t eaten in excess.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” She resigned. It was her fault for not setting more boundaries, but
her thralls were so happy, she couldn’t be mad about it.

“Alright, everyone pack it in. It’s time to go home!” Vizaness begrudgingly paid the tab, and
brought her thralls home. It was a small price to pay if she could get Srebral’s patronage.
Maybe there was something Maybelle could do about his insecurity.
 The Chief's Harem
Chapter Summary

Erux has an orgy with his goblins after they find his porn stash.

Soup’s introduction into the tribe had been a bit rockier than Erux anticipated. It wasn’t that
the goblin was particularly disliked by the others, but her emotionally cool demeanor and
vastly different interests meant she had little in common with the other goblins. She often
slept on the edge of the sleeping pile, but Ril liked her quite a bit for being a good listener.
Quil liked her cooking and Malva was just affectionate in general to others. Her higher
intelligence meant that Erux could trust her with more complex chores while he was away
such as cooking and cleaning his chambers.

There was a chore chart on parchment posted in plain sight with writing and included
pictograms because Malva couldn’t read. It had been recently updated to include Soup’s
chores. Tasks such as clearing out trash, putting clothes away, cleaning bedding and washing
dishes were all included. They even occasionally helped with chores around the farm as
needed. Goblins were generally famous for poor hygiene but Erux had encouraged his
goblins through positive reinforcement to maintain a relatively clean, if somewhat chaotic
household.

Each goblin had a slowly growing wardrobe with their names embroidered on each piece of
clothing so no one would fight over who owned what. Erux would often ask himself how
much clothes a goblin needed but would often be tempted by a dress he thought would look
cute on one of his thralls. Soup didn’t seem to care either way what her master picked out,
but she had a few outfits all the same. Soup was often tasked with washing the clothes and
Malva would fold them. The bedding and floors were Quil’s jobs. The dishes and trash were
Ril’s job. Malva also helped on the farm. At the end of the tenday, if they did all their chores,
they got to choose from a set list of rewards.

Today they would clean Erux’s chambers together. Soup started dusting and Quil began
cleaning the floors. She was small enough to fit under his bed which hadn’t been cleaned in
some time. Ril and Malva began gathering their master’s clothes for washing. Under the bed,
Quil discovered a zurkhwood box. Having just a little peek inside wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t
locked or anything. She took off the lid and was surprised by what she found!
“Woah! The chief’s secret box!” Quil exclaimed in a hushed tone.

“We’re not supposed to be going through Erux’s things.” Soup informed them. Ril looked
over curiously and her face reddened at what she saw. Pornographic drawings of goblins on
parchment and books titled “Hot Goblin Girls” Volumes 1 through 6. The books were
translated into Undercommon.

“What’s that say?” Malva asked. She couldn’t read the titles of the book.

“Hot Goblin Girls. It appears to be a set of erotica novels.” Soup said emotionlessly,
unphased by the contents of the box. The humans occasionally smuggled in the odd filthy
book or two in as entertainment. The adult goblins that could read would share it amongst
themselves or read it to the other grown up goblins that couldn’t read.

Quil flipped open the first volume. “We do not have time to read. We were told to clean.”
Soup told her.

“It won’t take long to read a few pages! I just wanna take a peek!” Quil protested.

“If you say so…” Soup went back to doing what she was supposed to. It didn’t take long for
the book to reveal its smut. A human courier was kidnapped by goblin warriors and the
leader insisted that he would marry her.

“This is juicy!” Quil whispered when after 6 pages, the goblins began to have their way with
him. Over the next couple of pages, the leader was giving a sloppy blowjob to the captured
human until she swallowed his seed.

“Heheh… This kind of reminds me of what we did with that halfling.” Quil smirked. She had
to read just a little bit more. There were dozens of artistic depictions of goblin women in
lewd poses, and goblins enthusiastically breeding with other races like humans and elves.
There was even a particularly scandalous one featuring a dwarf and a goblin, in which the
dwarf was bending the goblin over and having sexual congress with her in the doggy style
position. It was a very rare find as far as goblin porn went. A notable one featured a goblin
being “attacked” by Evard’s Black Tentacles.

Soon, everyone except Soup was huddled over the box of pornographic material. Quil had
read 11 pages of the book before Erux was standing in the doorway. He was completely
mortified that they were looking at his smut! His tentacles twitched as his cheeks flushed
pale. Soup looked at him blankly. None of the other goblins even noticed him. “Woah, the
chief has really good taste…” Malva looked.
Malva’s comment threw his mind for a loop, from embarrassment to arousal. “Master is
here…” Soup said. Ril and Malva squeaked, rushing to go back to their chores. Quil
scrambled to put everything back in the box and shove it back under the bed.

“I-it’s not like it turned me on or anything!” Quil lied and started scrubbing the floor more
vigorously.

“Typical Quil, always getting into things…” Erux should have figured she’d find it
eventually. She got into nearly everything that wasn’t locked. He thought such a boring
looking box wouldn’t have appealed to her.

“You know not to tell anyone what was in that box, right?” He asked them.

“Yes, Chief Erux.” They all said in unison. The other illithids didn’t understand them. The
elder brain was the big chief and they think the love their chief shows them is disgusting.
They all solemnly swore to protect their chief by telling no one what they did. Not even the
other farmers knew how depraved he really was.

“Perhaps letting you take a little break wouldn’t hurt…” He pondered. The most he’d ever
done was have the twins in a threesome. He’s had fantasies about having an orgy but in order
for it to be an orgy, one needed at least five people. All four of them would have to agree to it
in order to fulfill his fantasies. “Does anyone want to join their chief for a little fun?” He
asked, making his sexual intent clear to them. Soup knew that they were unlikely to get any
work done at this rate. She was the first to start undressing. She wasn’t shy at all about
initiating things in front of the others. She brought herself up onto her master’s bed.

Erux wasn’t surprised Soup had taken the initiative considering how forward she had been
during their first encounter. Malva eagerly followed along, stripping down and joining Soup
on the bed. Erux began to disrobe in a far more calm and casual manner than his goblins.

“M-master wants all of us? At the same time?” Ril asked.

“If you would be so kind as to join us, yes.” Erux teasingly tugged at her dress with a
tentacle, lifting it up to expose her genitals. “No panties again, Ril? You sure do like going
commando.” He picked her up, teasingly sliding a tentacle between her thighs.

“Mmn! Master!” She gasped. “But don’t I have to finish my cleaning first…?” She loved it
when he had his way with her. She often acted embarrassed by these acts, but Erux saw it for
what it really was.

“We have plenty of time, Ril.” Erux assured her. He placed her on the bed and Malva began
kissing her passionately. Soup began to undress the shy goblin, who didn’t protest in the
slightest. Ril remained standing on the moss mattress. She was actually quite wet from
looking at her master’s pornographic art.

Erux’s 4ft long tentacles could easily pleasure all of his goblins. If his tentacles weren’t made
for pleasing goblins, why did they fit so perfectly? Soup lays down in front of her master,
letting a tentacle rub against her vulva. She grinds herself against it panting softly. Malva
kissed Ril’s neck as a third tentacle reached around and slowly eased it’s way into Malva’s
tight little ass. Malva let out a moan as she held onto Ril, shuddering pleasurably.

Quil was started to feel left out as she watched the scene before her. She stared with a flushed
face. She didn’t mean to make everyone horny. It just kind of happened! “Well? You’re the
one who started all this. Do you want to join us?” Erux prodded her for a response. Quil’s
face was deceptively grumpy.

“W-Well… Alright, but only because everyone else is already doing it!” She haphazardly
took off her clothes and hopped into bed, completing the orgy.

“Remember. No biting. The others don’t like that.” Erux reminded her. Erux’s tentacle was a
bit thicker than the drow she lost her virginity to, so she’d been nervous to take it. She was
encouraged to get on top of Soup. She felt the pressure of a tentacle slowly pushing in. She
whimpered from just the little bit she was taking.

“Are you alright down there, Quil?” Erux asked.

“Mmnh… Fine!” She tried to take him deeper but her master’s tentacle wouldn’t moved
seamlessly with her thrusts, keeping it in place and earning him a frustrated whine from her.

“Geeze, slow down, Quil! You don’t want a repeat of last time…” Erux reminded her. He
truthfully didn’t know who to focus on first! He found himself rapidly switching between
their minds like a sage flipping through pages.

While he was distracted with Quil, Ril got on her knees and started licking Malva’s dripping
cunt. Malva was in heaven being filled with her master, but Ril’s hot and wet tongue on top
of it all turned her into a whimpering mess. “Ah! Yess! Right there!” Malva moaned. For a
moment he thought he would settle on Malva’s sensations, but the moans and desires of all
his goblins were tempting. She certainly was enjoying herself! Soon the chief’s purrs joined
the chorus of panting and moaning. He had no idea how difficult it would be to please four
goblins at once. Quil’s needy moans got to him.
“So impatient…” He pulled his tentacle away and she whined from its absence. “I think I’ll
teach you to do something new to keep yourself occupied…” Quil felt herself moving on her
own as she straddled Soup, pinning her legs back. The sensation was strange at first! It was a
little scary! “It’s alright. I won’t do anything bad to you.” He releases his control of her,
holding her hand. “Are you alright?” He asked her. Quil quietly nodded. She wasn’t aware
the chief could do something like that, but deep down she knew she trusted him.

He graciously kept her and her sister together when any other illithid might not have cared
about separating them. He kept them fed. He kept them safe. He kept them happy. She had no
reason to doubt him. “Now move your hips back and forth.” He instructed. Quil did as he
said and the two goblin’s pussies started rubbing against one another. It took her several
moments to get a good rhythm down but soon her tribbing was bearing pleasurable results.
Quil started moaning as she rode the other goblin. She was even managing to elicit moans
from the normally icy cold goblin beneath her.

“Hrrrrgh… Good girl…” Erux reached out and lightly smacked Ril on the bottom, making
her moan a bit louder. Ril was rubbing her clitoris as her master filled her pussy with a
tentacle and Malva held her face against her wet pussy that was dripping all over her chin. Ril
felt that familiar build up and knew she wouldn’t last much longer.

“M-master! Cumming… I’m close!” She warned him. Erux eagerly switched to her mind and
the sensation of him entering her thoughts to feel her cum made the shy goblin cum far
louder than she normally would. “Ooohhh!”

Goblins had a very short refractory period. They could easily orgasm two or three times
before they were completely satisfied. Erux knew this going in. He knew well that this would
not be a short break, even if he lied to himself. He pushed himself to keep going. He’d
trained himself well on each individual goblin in his personal tribe. While Ril recovered, he
removed his tentacle from Ril’s moist sex and pushed it into Malva, penetrating her with
double the tentacles. He pulled her close with his arm and she clung tightly to him.

“Oh! Oh, Chief Erux! We love you!” Malva cried out.

“I love you too! All of you…!” He let out gurgled moans as he pressed his forehead against
the affectionate goblin who kissed his face lovingly over and over. He noticed Quil was
getting close and focused on her next. She loudly grunted as she felt Soup squirting with a
soft squeak.

“Oh, shit!” Erux cried out with a gooey voice. He held Malva close, coming to rest on his
side. His tentacles stopped moving, resting inside of the goblin he was holding. This was the
hardest he had ever pushed himself. He weakly tried to keep going. He’d never been able to
hold the link through more than two orgasms, which was an achievement in and of itself
when many illithids could only handle one.

However, the chief couldn’t look like a chump in front of the whole harem! Sexual prowess
was quite valued in his tribe. “Don’t worry, Chief! We’ve got you.” Malva assured him. The
goblins worked together to roll him onto his back. He slowly pulled his tentacles from her.
His slime slowly dripped out of the goblin’s holes in thick globs. Soup retrieved some fresh
water for him. Ril brought his head into her lap, gently holding him as Soup rehydrated him.

“C’mon, Chief! One more!” Quil encouraged him.

Malva straddled her master’s chest, rubbing her sex against his tentacles. He started to react
to her movements and aching desire to cum. He couldn’t leave Malva hanging. Not unless he
was absolutely spent. His tentacles slide against her wantonly. Two of his tentacles hold her
upright and embrace her. “One more. One more!” He repeated.

“Mmmn!” Malva let out a strained groan.

“Come on…” Erux encouraged her.

“Nnn!”

“Be a good girl and cum for your chief!” He commanded. She wanted to be so good for him.
She worked herself up, feeling like she was about to burst.

“AAHN!” Malva came hard, feeling her clitoris throb. She panted, sharing her master’s
exhaustion.

Erux carefully pulled her into his right arm and held her close. Soup let him hold her in his
other arm. The twin sisters decided to join in on the cuddle pile as well, and they draped
themselves over him. He held them in his tentacles. The tired illithid realized this was the
first time he’d ever been in a goblin sleeping pile. He knew the goblins still had to finish
cleaning, but he didn’t have the willpower to get up or tell them to get back to work. He’d
never felt so comfortable. It was like one big hug.

“Maybe just a quick nap…” Erux said. Soup had one of her rare small smiles on her face.

“We’re not getting anything done today, are we?” She asked.
“Maybe not, but I don’t have anything important to do today. I guess this room can wait until
later.” Erux closed his eyes. The companionship of his harem was too warm and inviting to
rouse himself from. Erux slept peacefully with his harem of goblins for well over 45
minutes.

When Soup awoke, she pulled on her clothes and once again began cleaning as if nothing had
happened. Erux tiredly reached for the goblin who had left the cuddle pile before opening his
eyes to see she had gone back to her chores. Soup was certainly dedicated if nothing else. He
gently shook the other goblin women awake. “Alright. Break time’s over.” He groggily sat up
and he stretched with a yawn that briefly exposed his sharp maw. The illithid lazily levitated
out of bed and pulled his robes back on.

“It’s lunch time!” Malva pointed out.

“So it would seem.” Erux said. They really weren’t getting this task done today. Erux had
completely given up. “But after lunch, no more distractions!”

“Yes, Chief Erux.” Malva giggled. Erux’s tentacles curled happily as he patted her head with
his hand.

Today the chief would put a little bit of extra food in everyone’s bowl’s.
 It's Late. Shouldn't You Be Asleep?
Chapter Summary

(you) keep your master up too late by being horny. Zusrall is subtly encouraging his
thrall to gradually become a bigger brat.

You were eagerly finishing up the final chapter of Tender Rogue with your master. The two
protagonists, Gallahne, the half elf rogue and Stuth Tarrenflare, the human swashbuckler,
were getting married! You read the pages aloud.

“‘Stuth…Stuth, tell me again.’

‘I love you, my daring rogue.’

‘When?’

‘When what?’

‘When did you know?’ His mouth came back to hers for a long, deeply stirring kiss before he
replied.

‘I’ve always known, my dear. Why do you think I married you?’ Carefully, hating to mention
it at a moment like this, she reminded him, ‘You were forced to marry me.’ One kiss, one
grin, and he said, 'I forced your family to force me, Gallahne. There is a difference.’” You
read.

It was funny that it was all deliberate because Gallahne’s brothers had even beaten him up
and Stuth told her that it was “the price one pays to get what he wants”. Zusrall laid beside
you on your bed, wrapping his tentacles around your arm. His eyes were closed contently like
a cat as you read to him. You found yourself thinking about controversial questions. What
price had he paid for you?

“The numerical value of the mindgates exchanged in your acquisition is of no importance.

You are priceless to me.” Zusrall told you. “This marriage ritual serves no purpose in illithid
society, but the familial politics at play are certainly… Fascinating.” Zusrall noted. You were
often happy when the characters in these books got married and were happy to be together in
the end.
“Do illithids have anything similar? You know, for their favorite thralls…?” You found
yourself blushing, covering your face with the book from the silly inquiries you had.

He pulled the book from your hands and pressed his forehead to yours. “You are of special
importance to me and I believe I have found an approximation… Do you know about psionic
seals?” He asked.

“No, master. I can’t say that I do.” You admitted. Most thralls didn’t.

“I could imprint a tattoo of psionic circuitry upon your flesh. I would always know where you
were, how you were feeling and know if you were well. Would you like that?” He proposed.
The thought that you would always be on his mind made you happy. You kissed him.

“Yes.” You whispered, kissing him once more.

“Unfortunately, you’ll have to be patient. Such a seal takes years to construct. Psionic
circuitry is a great investment of time which requires three months for even the most basic of
configurations.” He informed you. You blinked in surprise. What could possibly make it
take so long? You didn’t really understand any of this stuff as it was far above what you
understood. You simply accepted that he knew far more than you did and didn’t question it
further.

“I have a gift for you in the meantime.” His voice had a hint of warmth to it. “Stay.” He
commanded. You obediently sat on your bed as you watched your master leave your room
with interest. You waited for him to return, which took about a minute. “Close your eyes.”
He told you. You closed your eyes with a smile on your face, wondering what it could be.
You felt a cool band around your wrist. “You may open them.”

You looked down to see a gold bracelet designed to look like a coiling tentacle on your wrist.
“Master…!” You gasped, smiling brightly. “I love it!” You traced your finger over the coiling
metal. You leaned over to hug him, nuzzling your face against his chest. The inside of the
bracelet had an engraving that read “From a master to their favored thrall.” He put his hand
on your shoulder, his tentacles gently patted your head.

“Master, can I sleep with you again? Pleeaaase?” You looked up at him with hopeful eyes. It
had been a while since you shared a bed with your master. You loved his presence but he
never fell asleep in your bed on purpose. He knew he should tell you no. He should put you
to bed and return to his chambers. A Breeder Named Slisskbax never said anything about the
thrall sleeping in his bed however. He only mentioned sleeping in the thrall’s bed.
“Alright. Grab your blankets and pillows. Come with me.” Zusrall conceded. You bundle
your blankets together and carry them in your arms as you follow Zusrall to his chambers.
You loved cleaning this room, because you got to look through all the knickknacks and
treasures he’d collected. There were books in languages you didn’t know containing
biographies and scientific journals about the evolution of humanoids and their behavior. All
were things you would have to look at a dictionary in order to barely grasp. An elegant rapier,
a trophy taken from an elf, was displayed on his wall. He didn’t know how to wield it, but he
imagined you as his daring rogue. Vizaness knew someone who knew a thing or two about
fencing…

Your master took a blanket from you and laid it out on a portion of his bed. Your other
blanket would be used to cover yourself. You stripped out of your clothing. You often slept in
the nude and your master knew this well. You happily climbed into his bed, pulling your
other blanket on top of you. “Ah! I forgot my rothe doll, Master.” You pointed out. You’ve
never ever slept without it.

“Go ahead and retrieve it.” Zusrall gave you permission to get it as he settled into his damp
moss bed. You hurry to get your stuffed rothe doll. When you return with it and climb back
into bed, you hug it tightly. To him, you looked absolutely precious.

You leaned over and kissed him before settling down. You had gotten into the habit of giving
him a kiss before he went to bed. His tentacles curled with content. “Rest well…” His tired
mind told you.

“You too.” You whispered. You closed your eyes and got comfortable trying to sleep. You
often daydreamed before actually falling asleep. Sometimes you unfortunately end up waking
yourself up even more with your own imagination.

You fantasized about marrying Zusrall. You had an idea of what a wedding was from your
books, but the rites varied greatly from region to region and faith to faith. You knew the God-
Brain would never answer your lowly prayers and silly fantasies. You looked at the bracelet
on your wrist. This was your engagement. That seal would be your wedding. You just had to
wait. It was good enough if it meant you got to be with him for your whole life. Your mind
turned to wondering if your master would consummate your love with pleasure, just like in
your books.

Then you realized you were aroused, imagining your master’s tentacles on your body. You
imagined him bonding with you, sharing the warmth of your love for each other. You
couldn’t fall asleep like this. You started feeling needy. You were pretty sure your master was
asleep. You didn’t feel him in your mind, and he never commented on your thoughts, which
you knew were absolutely dumb. Despite it all, your hand moved lower, beginning to touch
yourself as you laid on your side. Masturbating right next to your sleeping master felt
naughty and risky. There was a certain thrill to it.

If you got caught, would he punish you? You had even naughtier thoughts about him
spanking you. The more you touched yourself, the more depraved your thoughts became.
Your breathing becomes shaky as your movements grow more desperate. You began thinking
of creative “punishments”, such as making you do chores around the domicile in the nude.

“That’s an interesting thought…” Your master tells you. You gasped, surprised he was still
awake! Or perhaps even worse, you probably woke him up! “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be
asleep?”

“Uh…” You tried to think of a good excuse.

“Yes, you should be…” He said. You knew it was past your bedtime.

“S-sorry. I couldn’t help it when I started thinking about you.” You answered.

“Do you think flattery will convince me to let you finish?” Zusrall asked. Your eyes widened
at his question.

“I’m hopeful…” You admitted. He chuckled at your audacity. “Sorry for being such a needy
whore…” You apologized, poking your fingers together.

“I suppose it can’t be helped…” Your master lamented. His connection to your mind was
weak in his tired state, but nevertheless he turned you to lie on your back, resting his head
against your chest. Two of his tentacles dutifully worked at pleasuring your nether regions.
His touch was slick and skillful as ever. Your breath grew shaky as you wrapped an arm
around him. You relaxed, allowing your master to take care of you.

“You know you’ll still be punished for this. Good thralls go to sleep on time.” He told you.

“I know I’m being naughty.” You whimpered. “You like it, don’t you?” You boldly asked
him. Why else would he be touching you like this, despite your bad behavior?

“My, how bratty... Where did you learn such puerile behavior?” One of his tentacles loosely
wraps around your neck as he doubles down on his efforts. You couldn’t answer. You didn’t
know how to. Or perhaps you didn’t want to. You whined and whimpered in his grasp.
As good as his touch felt, it wasn’t complete without your master firmly fixed into your
mind, probing at the pathways and corridors of your thoughts. It was if you were
subconsciously daring him to force open your mental doors and search for the answer. Your
daring words and disobedient silence roused him from his slumber. He wrapped his leg
around yours, pinning you securely in place. You wouldn’t be getting out of this until he got
an answer or your orgasm. Preferably both. You wanted him to force the answers out of you.

You left your mind open just a crack for him to force it open. As he plunged into your
psyche, your lip quivered involuntarily as if you were shivering. He purred loudly and you
felt the vibration of it in your core. “Oh, fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck…!” You whispered. You
squirmed against his tentacles desperately trying to stimulate yourself to orgasm. You were
only somewhat correct. He didn’t just like this. He loved it.

Putting bratty thralls in their place had become a favorite activity of Zusrall’s. Prior to his
activities with you, he’d never been so hands on. He would command more aggressive thralls
to dominate misbehaving thralls and loved seeing how they ended up begging for more. How
their minds begged to serve by the time they were finished with them. Natiri only
emboldened him, encouraging him to act on these impulses directly. He saw no need to put
you in your place until now because you’d been so well behaved. He showed you these
memories as he pushed his way into your mind. Your will to hold onto your secrets loosened.

Such disobedience would have angered and frustrated any illithid, but Zusrall grew aroused.
His frustration was the best kind and you wanted to irritate him until you both couldn’t take it
anymore. Zusrall realized this was a mutual influence. Perhaps Vizaness’ fatuous infatuation
with her thralls left an impact on all of them. There was more to it than that. He encouraged
you to act this way. He held you close, even when you broke his rules. He loved you despite
it all.

He needed to put your mind back in line, just as he did each and every time your confidence
faltered. This time was different. This time you wanted to be put in your place. You no longer
feared losing your place as his prize thrall. He’d put you back right where you belong. He
always did. He said so himself when he held you by the leash. Your legs were shaking.

“Right where I belong.” You thought. You belonged. “Here.” You kissed his forehead. “And
here.” You kissed his cheek. “And here.” You thought, kissing the ridge where his tentacles
met his face. You laid back, taking one of his spare tentacles into your hand with eagerness.
“And here…” You sloppily licked and kissed it, taking in his scent and taste. The tentacle
around your neck loosens, rubbing its warm slime against your cheek as it caresses you.
Frustration gave way to what seemed like mindless indulgence on the surface. You closed
your eyes. You couldn’t focus on perceiving the physical world outside of yourself and him
any longer. The sounds of your master’s groans and purrs gave you goosebumps. You were
pulled deeper than you ever thought possible. You felt like you were underwater and yet you
could breathe. It was warm. Your eyes opened. You were embracing Zusrall and he embraced
you. You couldn't tell which way was up, surrounded by greenish light which faded to bluish
purple and changed again to reddish pink and cycled through.

You twirled together as you floated freely. Your understanding was mutual, communicated in
an instant. He enjoyed you unconditionally. The dancing of your minds felt eternal. Perhaps
he did enjoy a little disobedience, because he would always put you right where you
belonged. By his side. “Right here…” Zusrall pressed his forehead against yours. You closed
your eyes tightly. Your entire body heats up and you realize you were diving deeper. His face
flushed completely pale as yours turned beet red. Just when you think you can’t take
anymore, your eyes snap open. You cum loudly with him, crying out alongside his gurgled
voice.

You laid there for several moments, unable to move with a big smile on your face. The heat
left your face you panted softly. “That was amazing…” You stared at the ceiling. He pulled
you close, making you rest your head against his chest.

“It was… Fascinating… You better not start the ‘I can’t have sex with humanoid partners
because my Master is too good’ phase again.” Zusrall was quick to put his foot down on
that. You laughed softly.

“It’s true that you’re the best, but I know how much you love kissing me.” You smiled,
listening to his beating heart slowly come to rest.

Kalamash still remained a lot of fun to play with, even if he couldn’t do the things your
master did. “So who do you like kissing better? Izzven or Kalamash?” Zusrall pondered.

“Hmm… Izzven is quite a sensual kisser. I feel like he portrays your intent in a very… Poetic
sort of way. You’d think Kalamash’s tusks would get in the way and he’s a bit sloppy. He’s a
bit like an overjoyed cavveken pup. It’s really cute! I think they’re both great in their own
way.” You gave an analytical review. “But this guy right here is my favorite.” You tiredly
kissed him.

“Aren’t you going to clean yourself up?” He asked.

“Too tired…” You mumbled.

“Damn it, I can’t even be bothered to make you clean up…” He closed his eyes. You slowly
passed out with his tentacle wrapped around your wrist, as if to match the bracelet on your
other wrist…

“Wake up.” Your master sounded groggy and tired. A tentacle plopped against your face like
a mass of wet spaghetti. You couldn’t have slept more than 4 or 5 hours.

“Uugh… I’m coming, master…” You slowly pushed yourself up. You realized you were
sticky and gooey from partially dried illithid slime. “Oh gee, what a mess…”

“Mhmm. Guess who’s washing their blankets?” Zusrall rhetorically asked.

“Me… Do I get to clean myself first?” You asked.

“You have to clean yourself up anyway, so you may as well.” He said. You rolled out of bed
with a yawn and gathered up your messy bedding. Even though you were dead tired it was
well worth it.

Your master stared at you when you thought that. “I don’t plan on pulling that stunt again…
Anytime soon.”

“Do I need to put my rules back in effect?” He teasingly threatened.

“No, Master!” You stuffed your blushing face into your blankets to hide it from him and head
to your room.

You plopped the dirty bedding onto your bed and started washing yourself off with soap and
water in a bucket, you were finding the slimy substance in places you didn’t even know you
had! Last night was a blur. A really wonderful blur.

“You’re going to bed early tonight.” He told you as he helped you clean your back. You had
no arguments with that.

“I guess I’m sleeping alone for a while, huh?” You asked with a slight frown.

“I never said that. Someone has to make sure you go to sleep on time, but if you keep
misbehaving like that, I might have to borrow one of Vizaness’ chastity devices.” He
threatened to deny you.

“I guess it wouldn’t do any good to show up to work so tired.” You laughed nervously. “I’ll
go to bed on time from now on…” You tell him.
“That’s right. You need your energy.” Your master handed you a towel to dry yourself.

“So… What exactly was that earlier?” You asked him as you dried your hair. He blushed
recalling that.

“I am… Unsure what happened. I… We might be able to recreate it, but I can not make any
guarantees. It was incredibly interesting, but I would never be able to ask anyone any
questions about it.” Zusrall told you honestly.

“I see. Well if it never happens again, I’m really glad I got to feel it with you…” You smiled
as you finished patting yourself dry.

“As am I… Even if you caused me to lose precious sleep!” He ruffled your clean and damp
hair with his hand. You flashed him an apologetic smile. “Get dressed and finish your
chores.”

“Yes, Master.” You nodded and hopped to it. Hopefully eating breakfast while you work will
wake you up. Your master would definitely be taking a nap today.
 The Wealth Manager
Chapter Summary

Introducing a new illithid that works long hours for his creed, but will 63 year old
Edorengu learn some new things when a younger co-worker introduces him to a new
form of entertainment?

Edorengu was an illithid belonging to the recently created Possessor Creed. He had the
important task of wealth management. He came to Oryndoll with his creed-master, an
ulitharid named Aphrayaozu, and a small group of others about three years ago. Their colony
in the Sword Coast had been destroyed by githyanki raiders and they arrived in the city as
refugees. The dying elder brain of their colony had chosen some nutcase named Extremiton
to lead the remainder of the colony and the incensed surviving creed-masters split from the
colony, going their own separate ways.

When the possessors came to Oryndoll, they were surprised that they had no Possessor Creed
or vaults in which to hoard wealth! They seemed to have few merchants as well. Where the
possessors saw barren desolation, Aphrayaozu saw opportunity. His silver wits and decades
of mercantile experience were able to convince The Encephalithid that because they lived
under such highly mercantile cities in the Shining Plains meant that wealth was a very
important element in securing dominance of the realms above them. In addition, Sshamath,
abominable city of magic that it was, was a valuable source of resources and slaves waiting to
be exploited.

After an entire year of currying favor with the city’s leaders, The Elder Concord allowed the
shrewd merchants to install a vault within the city. What started as a small creed with only 11
members has since doubled to 27. While they remained the smallest creed in the city, even
smaller than the Ariser Creed, they were starting to see promise in their new home. Although
he had a fair amount of seniority under his belt, having served his creed for 40 years, he
worked many hours. 9 hours a day, 9 days out of the tenday, resting on every tenth day.

Edorengu’s job consisted of assisting clients in various tasks, such as registering personal
vaults, negotiating merchant sponsorships, loans, payments, market advising, and investing.
One of his thralls, a tzakandi named Anraje, was responsible for processing transactions and
recording them accurately. She looked like a normal lizardfolk with the exception of two
tentacles sprouting from her head like writhing twintails. Although she was by his side for
many hours, she was not a personal thrall and dwelt within the creed’s vaults as an additional
guard when her master was not working.

His job could easily be considered dull by many. It wasn’t nearly as exciting as that of the
merchants who got to travel, but the 63 year old illithid had experienced enough excitement
for one lifetime. He was perfectly content with his safe existence and it was a duty he was
proud to serve. Somebody had to do it. He didn’t have much at home anyway, besides a
grumpy duergar maid to keep his home in order while he was at work. Her name was
Brylwyn Barrenfall and she loved the solitude that her master’s long work hours gave her.

After work, Edorengu would often find entertainment with his closest acquaintances, who
were also fellow creed members. Their names were Renkebux at 48 years old and Ursulude, a
27 year old illithid apprentice full of youthful zeal. Even his recreation revolved around
work. Creed dinners at the Succulent Encephalon and drinks at The Spinal Tap were common
events. Even the dragonchess club were all meant to curry favor with superiors and invest in
business partnerships. These outings were expensive and excellent, but his companions
occasionally enjoyed the good and cheap entertainment of The Breeding Pen.

Renkebux had a 23 year old orc woman named Ootah as his personal thrall. They were able
to bribe Vizaness to let them and their friends into the back. Renkebux would then pick a
high quality prize thrall to mate with Ootah and read their minds. Although Ootah and
Renkebux had a good relationship, only Ursulude had recently and secretly been hands on
with a thrall. They knew that it was a taboo. They knew their creed master did such things in
private because he would send them to purchase a thrall or two for him once or twice a year.
The creed-master didn’t at all mind their pleasure trips to the festhall as long as they weren’t
open about it. After all, he was young once too. Now he was a dirty 170 year old ulitharid.
Aphrayaozu had an entire harem of attractive women before the githyanki attacked. He was
unable to save any of them when they fled three years ago.

Today was an absolute headache for Edorengu, dealing with the fallout of when two of their
merchants didn’t return. One of them had somehow ended up over 1000 miles away and the
other fancied himself a wizard. They didn’t have to deal with this shit up in the North Dark…
At least they had some reliable merchants who were able to end the spice shortage crisis.
They had to jump through hoops to sponsor another merchant envoy, but they clinched it. The
illithid took off his spectacles and rubbed the deep teal skin of his face tiredly after the deal
was sealed. “Don’t worry, boss! If Trezzir ever showed his face back here again, I’ll rip his
tentacles right off his face!” Anraje growled. Edorengu yawned.
“I’m sure you will, Anraje…” He stood from his desk, putting everything away and locking it
up securely. He left the keys with Anraje and smoothed out his robes. They were sleek, black
and lended a professional looking fit to the illithid. He was expected to look absolutely
pristine in his role. No tatters or tears to be found. Everything had to look like new. “Alright,
I’m heading out. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, boss!” Anraje bid him farewell. All they did was crunch numbers all day
and guard the vaults all night, but they were glad to have a safe place to live again after the
trauma of losing their colony. Ursulude approached him, patting on the back.

“Nice work on getting that sponsorship today!” He complimented. Edorengu was actually
attempting to get promoted to Head of Sponsorships, so he was pleased when his work was
noticed.

“Why thank you, Ursulude. I heard you secured a small loan with the Ariser Creed.”
Edorengu said.

“I did! We should go out to celebrate! How about The Breeding Pen? My treat.” Ursulude
was a newer creed member who couldn’t pay for the more expensive outings all the time, but
he had a hopeful zeal that Edorengu once had and admired.

“Sure. I could use the stress relief after cleaning up Trezzir and Addanil’s mess. It’s a God-
Brain damned shame. Addanil was a fine merchant.” Edorengu laments.

“Agreed, but honestly? Fuck Trezzir. Good riddance.” The younger illithid said.

Edorengu’s tentacles wiggled as if quietly laughing. “At least I got a cut of his personal vault
when I closed his account.” Edorengu disliked Trezzir as much as his co-worker did. “Isn’t
Renkebux coming with us?” He asked.

“No. He went home. Said he had to catch up on sleep.” Ursulude replied. Why were they
going to The Breeding Pen if they had no thrall to breed? Edorengu expressed confusion.
“You’ll see…” His co-worker’s tentacles curled smugly. Edorengu’s eyes widened.

“You don’t mean…?” The older illithid asked.

“I do. Trust me. You won’t regret it.” Ursulude said.

“I don’t know…” Edorengu sounded uncertain.

“Sure, you can go straight back home if you want to. More for me.” Ursulude shrugged. It
made him wonder what he was missing out on.

“Oh, why not? Sure…” Edorengu honestly had no idea what to expect.
The two of them made their way to The Breeding Pen. Ursulude was vague and secretive,
refusing to go into any specifics, merely telling him that it would be “worth every mindgate”.
They met with Casber in one of the back rooms as Vizaness was busy with another client.
“Welcome back! I see you’re without your companion and his orc woman. Did you return for
the ‘personal touch’ experience?” Casber asked, welcoming them warmly. They were well
acquainted with Casber as his thrall Izzven was quite a popular pick with them.

Edorengu blinked in surprise. He couldn’t believe he was thinking of doing something like
this.

“Yes. It’s Rengu’s first time.” His co-worker called him by his nickname.

“What a coincidence. We just got a new escort today. A first timer for a first timer? He comes
from Vizaness’ stock and of course we’re offering a special discount to help get him settled
in.” Casber offered. Ursulude didn’t really care either way, and looked to Edorengu for his
opinion.

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to be introduced…” Edorengu agreed to at least meet this new
thrall.

“I’ll go get him for you. One moment, please.” Casber left them alone in the room, sitting on
a large couch, and he went to the escort’s quarters. Presmer was lucky and had gotten one of
the coveted top bunks when he wasn’t being displayed in his mistress’ menagerie for the
purposes of socialization and showing off his gold collar. “Presmer, you’ve got your first
job.” Casber informed him. Elzaphir gave him an encouraging slap on the rear.

“You’ve got this, Presmer.” Elzaphir smiled.

“Th-thanks...” The human blushed. Casber hooked a leash to his collar and began leading
him back to his waiting clients.

Casber didn’t tell the thralls anything about their clients unless they asked. If he was as good
as A Breeder Named Slisskbax said he was, he could handle it. Casber sensed curiosity in
Presmer’s mind. He liked to let the thralls get to know their clients more personally by
talking to them. Their escorts often came to know their clients by name, and the illithids that
used their services in secret were often elated when the escorts remembered details about
them and made them feel good about themselves in ways that their own thralls couldn’t.

Every once in a while a customer liked a thrall so much, they purchased them outright for a
nice tidy sum, often ranging between 55 and 111 mindgates. Some of the rarest thralls went
for as much as 555 mindgates, and values could climb even higher when auctions were
involved! There was a record breaking purchase of a drow masseur worth 598 mindgates.

Casber brought in what looked to be a skinny young Tethyrian man. He had soft looking
brown hair, youthful green eyes and a shy smile. “This is Presmer. He came from Vizaness’
menagerie. What this Tethyrian human lacks in experience, I assure you he makes up for with
a strong willingness to learn.” Casber introduced him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you two.” He bowed. He never expected his first job to be two
illithids at once! That was two more tentacles than A Breeder Named Slisskbax had! He
found himself rather excited at the prospect. “May I join you?” He asked. If the thrall wasn’t
to their liking, he would be sent back and they would take their pick from another thrall.

“Please have a seat.” Edorengu patted the space between them. Presmer sat between them.
He had his hands in his lap, blushing softly.

“I’ll leave you three alone, but should you need any assistance, you only need to ring that
bell and Izzven will appear to assist you with anything you need or desire at all.” Casber
said.

“This should be good for now. Thanks, Casber!” Ursulude said, paying the festhall worker
two mindgates. He could tell that Edorengu liked the way this thrall looked. He saw the way
that Edorengu appreciated the aesthetic appearance of his own thrall, a rock gnome man
named Benjamer Tumblestone, whom Ursulude let go home to sleep.

“I’m Edorengu.”

“You can call him Rengu for short.” Ursulude teased.

“No, you can’t. Don’t listen to him.” His co-worker gave an unamused look, causing
Ursulude to chuckle. “That’s Ursulude.” He introduced himself and his associate. He had no
idea what he was supposed to be doing. He had a vague idea but was it too soon to start
undressing him?

“So what do you two do in your creed?” Presmer decided to make small talk to ease the
tension.

“Wealth management. We’re responsible for managing the flow of money and treasure in
Oryndoll and allocating those resources, as well as marketplace data, merchant sponsors,
loans, financial advising… That sort of thing.” Edorengu said.
“We won’t bore you with the details.” Ursulude said. “We’re off the clock, so we’re here to
have fun…” He moved the human’s hands out of his lap and lifted Presmer’s robes up. Seems
like the younger illithid didn’t want to waste any time. Presmer wasn’t wearing anything
under his white, loose robes. Instinctively Presmer reached out and grabbed Edorengu’s hand.
The inexperienced illithid blushed at his touch, but held the thrall’s hand as if to comfort him.
He could feel the human’s lust and his tentacles writhed as he felt the warmth in his own face
and chest. Edorengu slowly took off his spectacles and set them aside.

Presmer’s mind was nervous at first but slowly grew more at ease as he held the hand of the
illithid to his left. Ursulude smelled of wild onions but Edorengu was indescribable. It was
both vanilla like his mistress and garlic like A Breeder Named Slisskbax. It was strange and
yet he kept sniffing it. It was sort of like Zusrall but the notes of vanilla were prominent. It
was warmer.

“You think I smell strange?” Edorengu asked.

“Yes but I think I like it…” He admitted. He blushed, hoping he hadn’t offended his client.

“Go ahead. Senior employees first.” Ursulude winked, encouraging his senior employee to
handle the thrall.

“Should I use my hand or my tentacles?” He asked Presmer.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, sir.” Presmer said. Ursulude pulled off his robes and
then began disrobing himself.

“You might want to take off your robes first.” Ursulude suggested to his co-worker.

“Ah… Right…” Edorengu was blushing. He felt completely out of his element and yet he was
growing curious. Perhaps he was even excited as he took off his robes. He brought himself to
sit by Presmer once more and reached out to fondle the human.

Presmer was showing him with his thoughts how he liked to be touched. It was a connection
he didn’t get from merely watching someone else. Ursulude gently caressed Presmer’s neck
and face with his hand while touching his chest with his tentacles. The human’s cock quickly
became hard in Edorengu’s grasp as he pumped the human’s erection. Presmer looked
Edorengu in the eyes. “C-can I kiss you?” He shyly asked. Edorengu knew what a kiss was
even if he had never been kissed. He had no lips, but he figured this thrall had to know what
he was doing.

“Sure…” He gave him permission, not really knowing what to expect. Presmer grasped one
of his tentacles, kissing it. He couldn’t get enough of that strange scent. It was such a strange
sensation to Edorengu but it was oddly pleasant. The two of them began purring softly.

“I think he likes you, Rengu.” Ursulude pointed out. “Try sticking one of your tentacles in his
mouth.”

“That sounds odd and unsafe…” Edorengu muttered. Presmer could sense his uncertainty.

“A lot of illithids like having their tentacles sucked on. I won’t bite you.” Presmer informed
him with a playful smile. “I like doing it. It feels good.” He assured his client, panting softly
as they both touched him. Edorengu reluctantly pressed a tentacle against his lips. Presmer
licked it and gently took it into his mouth. The human moaned softly as the illithid slowly
thrust it in and out of his mouth.

“Hrrrrnnngh! Oh my! That does feel good…” Edorengu admitted. He let out a louder purr of
approval.

“Good boy…” Ursulude praised him. He could feel how his co-worker’s praise further
chipped away at Presmer’s inhibitions.

It only made Ursulude more bold. “Hold him in your lap. I want to try something.” He said.
The apprentice hasn’t steered him wrong thus far. Edorengu was curious and slowly pulled
his tentacle from Presmer’s mouth. Presmer brought himself into Edorengu’s lap, straddling
the illithid and facing him. Ursulude got on the floor beneath them, intending to stick his
tentacles inside Presmer. “Wh-what are you doing!? They defecate from there!” Edorengu
was shocked.

“It feels really good. Please. Please use me. Please…” Presmer begged. The human’s needy
begging slowly started sucking Edorengu back in. Could such a strange act really be that
good?

“Relax, Rengu. They keep these thralls really clean.” Ursulude said. He gripped the human’s
ass cheeks, spreading them slightly to inspect him. “Besides, the bath attendants will clean
us up when we’re done.” He started rubbing a slick and dripping tentacle against his
entrance, making Presmer gasp softly. Another tentacle reaches around, wrapping around his
cock. Presmer caressed Edorengu’s face and tentacles, causing the illithid to close his eyes in
bliss. Observing was fun, but he loved the attention he was getting. It was like the stress of
his work day melted away.

His reluctance completely stripped away when Ursulude entered Presmer, purring as the
human clung to him. Presmer buried his face in the crook of Edorengu’s neck, kissing him
eagerly. Edorengu embraced him, softly running his clawed fingers down his back. Gooey
moans began to emanate from the illithids using Presmer for their pleasure. The human’s
whimpers were actually quite adorable. The illithid below Presmer was moving his tentacles
more roughly, pushing him to his limits. “He’s cute, isn’t he?” Ursulude asked.

“Very…!” Edorengu’s toes curled as he felt that familiar sensation of a thrall getting close to
orgasming. He boldly grabbed Presmer’s butt, holding him tightly.

“Almost there…!” Ursulude continued pleasuring the human with his tentacles, gurgling and
purring desperately.

Presmer found himself addicted to smelling that scent. He couldn’t describe why. It was
overwhelming at first but once it settled on the nose it was warm, pleasant, comforting. He
held onto the illithid tightly, shivering as he came to the edge. Edorengu's blunt nail scratched
against Presmer’s back, leaving red marks on his skin as he grasped the human tightly. He
never broke the skin, but the sensation made Presmer gasp. He came on Edorengu’s stomach,
rubbing himself against the illithid’s slimy skin as he rode out his orgasm. “OH! Oh
goodness!” Edorengu gurgled. Ursulude’s voice strains as he tenses up, unable to move until
he slowly pulls his tentacles away from Presmer. The human tiredly hugged him and gave
Edorengu one last soft kiss on his forehead.

“Sorry about the mess… I’ll clean that up.” Presmer said, sliding off of Edorengu. He got a
soft and damp rag to wipe up his semen from the illithid’s stomach. Ursulude could tell this
thrall was more drawn to Edorengu than him, and he was more than alright with that. He had
set out to impress his superior and had achieved exactly that. Ursulude encouraged Presmer
to lay down. His head rested in his lap and his legs were draped over Edorengu’s. He knew
humanoids generally didn’t like the way he smelled, so he handed Presmer the rag with his
senior co-worker’s scent.

“The sensation of touch is honestly something remarkable, isn’t it?” Ursulude gently stroked
Presmer’s face and chest with his hand. Presmer reaches out, using his hands to gently stroke
their tentacles, touching both illithids softly. He looked up at the ceiling, spacing out as he
enjoyed them paying attention to him. Edorengu locked eyes with Presmer as he stroked his
legs softly. Edorengu had never realized how touch starved he was until Presmer had smiled
at him.

“Yes… It’s quite relaxing…” Edorengu agreed.

“My mistress once told me that illithids were mostly ambidextrous. It’s no wonder that you
can make elegance look so effortless.” Presmer whispered. He thought he could fall asleep
like this if they’d let him. He was in a state of bliss that easily compared to Elzaphir’s touch.

“How charming…” Edorengu complimented.

“So. What do you think? Was I right?” Ursulude asked.

“Yes, I suppose you were right. I can see why the creed-master trusts your judgment on
picking thralls for his own collection.” Edorengu was merely responsible for transporting
those thralls, and Renkebux was the one sent to negotiate pricing.

Presmer enjoyed this mutual bliss for as long as he could. Warm silent praise made his scalp
tingle as his eyes closed. Just when he was about to drift off, Ursulude gently shook him.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep on us.” He chuckled. Presmer slowly sat up and stretched.

“Thank you for choosing me. It was a lot of fun.” He smiled softly, he found himself glancing
at Edorengu as he put his spectacles back on. Those green eyes stuck out to the middle aged
illithid.

Izzven took Presmer back to get cleaned up when they announced they were finished with
him. They had paid an extra mindgate to bribe their way into the bathing area. The hot
springs were relaxing. Edorengu noticed that the thrall with the large breasts that Aphrayaozu
wanted to purchase wasn’t here. Maybe she had the day off? Either way, he didn’t think it
pertinent to ask about her right now. He relaxed as a blonde woman massaged the tension out
of his back and shoulders.

When they were cleaned and got dressed in their robes once again, they went their separate
ways. “See you next tenday!” Ursulude waved a tentacle as they parted.

“See you next tenday.” Edorengu gave a tired farewell but his tentacles curled with content.
By the time he returned home, his thrall maid had already fallen asleep. He sometimes went
days without ever interacting with her. Brylwyn did not hate her master, but she definitely
valued her solitude.

“Mmn… Master, is that you?” She mumbled. If it was a home intruder, she was too tired to
care.

“Yes, it’s just me. You can go back to sleep if you want.” He said. He took off his robes and
hung it up for the maid to clean in the morning. He then entered his chambers and climbed
into bed, thinking about that thrall. He definitely wanted to see that thrall again.

Tomorrow was his day off and he would most assuredly rest well.
 Dancing in the Rain
Chapter Summary

Dess and Wind set up camp and enjoy a rainy night.

Though the journey on foot was long, Run Like the Wind had made good time being able to
move far faster than the average humanoid. They had walked halfway to Ormath, but it was a
better time than ever to get some rest for his traveling companion. The skies were dark,
cloudy and starless. Run Like the Wind suspected that it might rain soon. Half the time, his
hunch was right. “We’re going to pull over to set up camp.” Wind informed Dess.

“That sounds like a good idea. It’s hard to sleep on your shoulders. I might fall off!” Dess
said. Wind veered off of the road and moved to a nice level patch of land away from prying
eyes on the road. He pulled the tent out of his pack and handed it to Dess. “Can you set up
my tent for me?” Dess asked Wind.

“Do it yourself. I’m not your thrall.” Wind didn’t feel like enduring servitude from anyone
anymore.

“Right… Sorry…” Dess pulled down his scarf, allowing his tentacles to be free of their
confines. Try as he might, he never set up a tent before. The thing ended up looking more like
a pathetic lean-to that could topple at any moment. Wind looked at the gnome ceremorph’s
handiwork, feeling pity.

“Gond’s bells. This creature really is helpless without me…” Wind thought. “Here… I’ll help
you.” He relented, watching the gnome ceremorph struggle with the shelter that would be
more than twice his height.

Wind approaches, helping him lift the tent into place. “Go ahead and put that pole right
there…” Wind helped him figure out how to set it up. “There we go! Now it's shaping up!”
With the nimblewright’s help, the tent looked as it should. He then reached for his tinderbox
when he realized he had nothing to burn. “Damn. I didn't think to gather any firewood… Oh
well. The blanket should keep you warm enough.”
Dess got the bedroll out of the bag. He could do that much by himself and set up his own bed
inside the tent. “Thanks for your help.” Dess said, settling down into the bedroll.

“You’re welcome.” Wind said. He started to feel a little bad for how he responded to him
earlier.

“I forgive you. After the ordeal you went through, I suppose I can’t really blame you for
being a bit touchy when people ask you to do stuff.” Dess tried to see it from his point of
view.

“It’s still no excuse for me to get short with you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Run Like
the Wind said as he entered the tent with him. He sat on the ground, close to the entrance of
the tent.

“We’re both navigating an unfamiliar situation. All we can do is our best to cope. It’s nicer
that you’re choosing to help me instead of being forced to. It’s less work that way… I was
told I wasn’t very good at dominating thralls either.” Dess revealed. “Sure, I could make
thralls do what I wanted about as well as any other illithid, but it was so much easier when I
could just ask.” Dess would have rather convinced people to assist him than force them.
Wind realized he shouldn’t be mean to this stranger, even if he was strange. There was a
certain innocence about Dess that was admittedly refreshing.

“Yes, it is nicer to ask instead of forcing people to do what you want.” Run Like the Wind
agreed. “You should only dominate other creatures as a last resort to protect ourselves.” He
suggested. It wasn’t ideal but if they were under attack, they could convince someone not to
harm them. The ceremorph’s psychic abilities could be a tool. Wind didn’t think that it was
inherently good or evil. It was how that tool was used that mattered.

“I agree. I think I prefer to observe humanoids in their natural state of being. Their thoughts
so far have been fascinating!” Dess said. It made sense to Wind that he enjoyed observing
how humans behaved, given his studies of anthropology.

“I guess it’s a little easier to talk to people when you can figure out what they’re thinking.”
Wind kept his eyes on the world outside the tent, looking for any movement. “Shh… Dess.
Come here.” Wind whispered. He beckoned the gnome ceremorph over. Dess slowly crawled
out of his bedroll and levitated over to him. He had his blanket wrapped around himself.

“There’s bison.” He mentally pointed out the creatures to him in the distance, grazing on
some grass and moving along the plains. The two of them could see them just fine in the
dark. They were massive. Far bigger than he actually thought they were!
“Bison are sacred animals to the wemics of the shining plains. Hippogriffs are one of their
few natural predators. These wild animals are often hunted for food by the inhabitants of this
land. The city of Ormath actually has a thriving industry in salted bison meat!” Dess
informed.

“You sure do know a lot about the local area for having never been up here.” Wind said.

“I gathered every bit of knowledge I could when I was in the Ariser Creed. Knowing about
what was above us was part of the curriculum.” Dess explained. “Of course, I found the
topics so alluring, I wanted to learn everything I could.” His tentacles curled happily. He
hugs the blanket tighter to themself.

“What things do you want to learn or like to learn about?” Dess wondered quietly.

“Hm… Everytime me and Keegan were in a tavern, my eyes were always drawn to the
person playing the lute… Not that I was ever given formal lessons or anything.” Wind
whispered.

“Well you’re free now, so you can learn whatever you set your mind to! I think lutes sound
nice.” Dess encouraged him.

“That’s true… One thing I liked doing back when I lived in Raven’s Bluff was making
dioramas and miniature scenes. Yes, I liked playing with dolls. Haha…” Wind sounded a
little embarrassed. “I knew a gnome who made all these teeny tiny props and pieces of
furniture. As you can imagine, those things weren’t easy to transport, so I had to leave them
all behind…” He explained.

“That sounds so cute! What an interesting hobby.” Dess excitedly whispered. He noticed that
Run Like the Wind seemed a little sad, as if he had missed his old hobbies. “Don’t worry. I’m
sure we’ll find new things you like doing.” The gnome ceremorph tried to cheer him up. “I
like learning and people watching.” He had settled back into his bedroll when he was done
watching the bison.

“I don’t know if there’s much that I can teach you, but I can at least keep watch for you in
here. It’s not as if I need to sleep.” Wind said.

“On the contrary. I don’t think you need to be a sage in order for people to learn things from
you…” Dess said. He buried himself into the bedding, leaving only the top of their head and
their tentacles sticking out. His short and stubby 1ft long tentacles grasped the blanket.
“For instance, there’s plenty of myths and legends of people learning what not to do from
other people.” Dess said with a yawn. Run Like the Wind found that comment mildly
humorous. If his facial features could move, he would have cracked a smile.

“Goodnight, Dess.” Wind said. He briefly looked over at Dess who was trying to sleep. He
was like a weird kitten. It was oddly adorable to see how cozy he was.

“Goodnight.” Dess replied.

Dess found himself tossing and turning. Dess had considered getting some moss at some
point and stuffing it into his bedroll or something. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was difficult
to sleep in such unfamiliar material. He then heard the strangest sound. It started off lightly
then gradually grew a bit harder. It sounded like their tent was being pelted with something!
“What is that?? Are we under attack!?” Dess sat up. Run Like the Wind laughed at his
question, wheezing like a kettle.

“No! It’s just rain! You don’t know what rain is?” Wind seemed to find Dess’ reaction silly
and funny.

“Of course I know what precipitation is!” Dess sounded embarrassed. “I’ve just never heard
what it sounded like, that's all!” He climbed out of his bedroll again to take a look. It started
to pour. “I’ve always wondered what it felt like…”

“I have as well.” Wind admitted. Dess took off his clothes, not wanting them to get
completely soaked. It would take them hours to dry if he let them get wet. He cautiously
stepped outside of the tent, allowing himself to be drenched by the rain.

It felt ethereal! It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever experienced! He thought about Wind
saying he had wanted to feel it too, but he knew he couldn’t. Not with the body he was born
in. He had no nerve endings. The nimblewright had no real sense of sensation, and yet Dess
wanted desperately to share this incredible experience with him. “Can I try something
experimental with you? I think I can help you feel this, maybe? I’ll stop immediately if it
makes you uncomfortable.” Dess offered.

Wind stared at him, wondering how he could possibly help him feel the rain. With his weird
mind powers? The promise to respect his comfort meant a lot to Run Like the Wind. It was
enough to convince him to try. Wind took off his boots, hat and tabard, and stepped out into
the rain with him.
“So how exactly does this work?” Wind asked. He wasn’t entirely sure what to expect.

“Just keep an open mind, friend. I promise I won’t hurt you.” He first began probing the
nimblewright’s thoughts. Curiosity. Cautious optimism. A faint sense of wonder. “Imagine
that the rain is a symphony and that each individual raindrop is a performer, and everything
they fall upon is an instrument.” Dess tells him. He attempted to deepen that link, sharing his
sensations with Wind.

It was extremely strange. He’d never felt anything in his life before. It freaked him out a
little, as if he wanted to jump out of his body. Dess floated up to give Wind’s hand a gentle
and reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. You’re safe. Are you alright?” He felt Dess holding his
metallic hand. Steam started coming from the top of his head. Wind couldn’t form any words
as he stared at those big eyes looking at him with care he hadn’t seen in a long time. He
merely nodded.

He was alright. He was safe. He was part of a natural symphony and it was overwhelmingly
beautiful. “Dess… This is…”

“Amazing, right!?” His tentacles wiggled as he looked at him with those wide big eyes.
Wind felt the rarest emotions an illithid could feel. Dess was overjoyed that his little
experiment had worked and that he could enjoy the rain with someone who ordinarily
couldn’t feel it.

Wind reciprocated with Dess, gently holding onto the gnome ceremorph’s slimy hand. They
walked around their camp, seeing how the rain made everything wet. They found a puddle
and the urge to jump in it was too strong for Dess to resist. Wind held onto his hand as he
firmly landed square into the puddle, splashing water onto Run Like the Wind’s legs. If
anyone from his colony had seen him acting like this, he probably would have been
admonished for acting so childish, yet Wind found his gurgled giggles to be one of the cutest
sounds he’d ever heard as he splashed in the puddle.

No one was around to judge them. No one was here to hurt them or force them to do anything
against their will. Dess floated close to Wind once more, drawn to him through the link they
formed. “Thank you for humoring me. It means a lot…” The gnome ceremorph locked eyes
with him. There was a strange sense of emotional magnetism between them.

“You’re welcome…” Wind said. Slowly, the ceremorph leaned in, pressing his forehead
against the nimblewright’s. He thought he knew love before with Keegan, but this was a
spark. It was warm. It was acceptance. It was freedom. It was so indescribably kind, soft and
beautiful that Wind was overwhelmed.
Dess pulled away as he felt his eyes swell with tears. It wasn’t a sad feeling. It was a joy he’d
never felt before. It was too much to handle right now. He let out a blown out breath.
“Whew… That was really something!”

“Yes… It was… Nice…” Wind tried to find his words. He felt at rest once again. He no
longer felt the rain as it started to slow. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” Wind said. He
would be thinking about that for quite a while.

“Let’s get you dried off.” Dess said. He didn’t want any part of him to rot or rust from the
moisture.

Wind nodded in agreement, following him back to the tent. Dess used his spare robes to start
drying off Wind’s most critical parts that were most likely to be damaged. Wind had pulled
his dry clothes back on and returned to guarding the entrance of the tent. Dess tiredly draped
his warm blanket over himself as he snuggled into his dry bedroll. His tentacles were curling
and he found himself chrring softly. He didn’t regret coming to the surface. This was better
than any goal or plan his creed had ever made.

“What was that?” Wind asked.

“I caught an illithid doing that with their thrall once. They seemed really embarrassed when I
asked them about it but they said that it was some sort of gesture of trust. I wanted to show
you that I trusted you.” Dess blushed, burying himself in his blankets to hide his face.
Dallimeze thought he was being sneaky one day, showing affection to his wife, only to be
caught by the gnome ceremorph. Much to their relief, Dess hadn’t cared and was merely
curious.

“I wonder why they were so high strung about it…” The gnome ceremorph pondered.

“Because your people are less emotionally healthy than my ex girlfriend? No offense. They
don’t exactly seem to see other people as more than livestock. They don’t even seem to like
each other half the time!” Wind speculated.

“None taken. It’s hard to get them to work together. It’s kind of sad because we could achieve
so much more if they did.” Dess said. “I wonder if they even care that I’m gone.”

“They didn’t deserve you anyway…” Wind said.

“She didn’t deserve you either.” Dess said.

“Thank you… Goodnight, Dess. For real this time.” Wind said. The gnome ceremorph’s eyes
squinted in happiness. The rain gave way to clear skies. Wind left the flap to the tent open to
get a good look at the sky. Selune was full, its cool pale light made his golden body seem to
gleam and softly glow. He looked like a knight in shining armor to Dess. The night time
symphony became full of swaying grasses, soft wind and crickets. The gnome ceremorph
finally closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
 Tenth Day Leisure
Chapter Summary

Edorengu can't get enough of Presmer and goes back to The Breeding Pen the very next
day to be alone with him.

“So… How did your first gig go? Who was it?” Vizaness was curious for hours, wanting to
catch up with her Golden Boy after his first time servicing an illithid.

“I actually want to know too!” Elzaphir was curious.

“You sure are nosy, Elzaphir…” Presmer chuckled at the drow. Vizaness booped the drow’s
nose.

“Of course I want to know!” Elzaphir giggled. “We’re happy for you. Also we like to know
about the clients. Milo keeps detailed notes on our clients and everything.” Elzaphir referred
to a ghostwise halfling who gave particular care in remembering the festhall’s clients.

“Possessor Creed illithids. Edorengu and Ursulude.” Presmer remembered.

“Renkebux wasn’t with them this time, hm? They are somewhat regular customers. They give
us good business.” Vizaness says.

“I know you’re usually secretive about our clients, Mistress. Is there anything you’re allowed
to tell me about them?” Presmer asked.

“Their creed-master comes in for massages on rare occasions, but he doesn’t do anything
sexual with the thralls here. He buys female thralls once a year. I think he’s slowly rebuilding
his retinue of personal thralls. Basically, they’re the boss’ closest confidants and his wealth
of knowledge and money makes them important customers, even if they are of the smallest
creed. They’re refugees from a destroyed colony up north.” Vizaness said, stressing the
importance of treating these customers well.

“They lost everything? That’s so sad…” Presmer frowned.

“Yes. The gith are our greatest foes, and their tale reminds us that we must be vigilant
against their attacks on our communities.” Vizaness solemnly nodded. “However, I firmly
believe people like you can help heal that pain and stress.” She said.
She knew her beliefs were not widely held by many illithids, and that the few who used the
festhalls secret services were pretty much the only ones who agreed with her. Despite that,
she knew her experiences with Kalamash and her other thralls were anecdotal evidence of her
theories. She certainly enjoyed the dominion she had over them but the attention they gave
her was practically healing. She knew her work was important for her colony even if most
didn’t think so.

“So… What did they do with you?” Vizaness asked, squinting her eyes mischievously.
Presmer blushed, poking his fingers together.

“Too shy to say?” Elzaphir teased. “You can do all that but you can’t describe it?”

“It’s alright. You can show me.” Vizaness giggled. Presmer nodded, opening his mind and
showing her his memories. From Ursulude’s eagerness, to Edorengu’s nervousness and
subsequent enjoyment of him. “Oh my! It looks like they left quite an impression on you!”
Vizaness’ tentacles curled, pleased with what she saw. “I knew you would make me proud.”
She praised. She loved it when the first timers had a great time and it was even better when
they chose her thralls to do it. “Enjoy the rest of your day, my Golden Boys. I’m now eligible
to challenge the high tier Erotic Dominance League. Kalamash and I have training to do.”
She excused herself.

“Best of luck, Mistress!” Elzaphir would be cheering her on.

“Wow. The high tier… I’m surprised she didn’t pick Oceana as her champion.” Presmer
pondered.

“Apparently she’s a bit too much of a wild card.” Elzaphir chuckled. “She can’t keep her
thoughts off our mistress and get her head in the game.” The drow was privy to the results of
her casual games.

Meanwhile in Edorengu’s domicile, he slept for an hour more than usual. Brylwyn made him
breakfast consisting of a halfling’s brain with a spread of deep sturgeon caviar. It was a rare
and nutritious comfort meal for him. He either stayed home and relaxed, went to watch a
gladiator match, or went to the market on his day off. Today however, he couldn’t stop
thinking about that thrall. Presmer… That name stuck in his mind. He had to see him again.
Preferably without the meddling of his younger co-worker. Not that it was an unpleasurable
experience. He just would have liked to get to know them a little bit better before sticking
their tentacles on him.
“What are you doing today, Master?” Brylwyn asked him.

“I think I’ll go out today…” He said. She noticed her master seemed to be lost in thought. It
wasn’t often she cared to ask, but she’d never seen him like this. He looked strangely happier
than usual.

“Something on your mind, Master?” She asked. He’d never told her what he did when he
went out with his co-workers, but he knew he could trust her to keep it a secret.

“I... Met a thrall at The Breeding Pen…” He blushed. Brylwyn knew quite well what went
on there. She’d also heard about Aphrayaozu’s wild parties back in their home colony though
Edorengu had never attended any of them.

“Alright, my curiosity is sated. You don’t need to tell me anymore.” The duergar decided she
didn’t need to know anymore.

“Very well, then. I’ll say no more.” Edorengu’s tentacles writhed in amusement. He went to
his room and changed into his casual robes. Even the clothes he wore when he wasn’t
working were in pristine condition. Even off the job, he was a representative of his creed.
They were black and made of silk. The duergar maid was cleaning up the table from
breakfast.

“Have a good day, Master.” She told him as she watched him leave.

“You as well, Brylwyn,” He left his domicile, making his way to the breeding pen. He hoped
none of his co-workers would see him going there, but much to his relief, he had made it
unbothered. He probably wouldn’t have worked up the courage to go if anyone from work
began to question him. He got Zusrall to take him into the back, asking to see Vizaness.

Zusrall decided to tease Vizaness by pestering her with the new client instead of dealing with
him himself. “You better have a good reason for bothering me during my training!” Her
tentacles curled inward as if she were pouting as she glared at him.

“Cranky because I stopped you from cumming, aren’t you?” Zusrall teased. She grabbed a
pillow and threw it at him. It slapped him square in the face. “Edorengu wants your new
Golden Boy again.” He said, picking the moss stuffed pillow off of the floor.

“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “Why didn’t you say so earlier!?” She threw on her robe to make
herself look presentable. Zusrall’s tentacles curled mirthfully at her reaction. “Tell him I’ll go
get him. He’s not busy right now.” She said. “I’ll be right back, Kalamash.” Vizaness gently
pressed her forehead against the half-orc’s. Kalamash smiled at her attention. He obediently
waited for her, like a well trained dog told to stay put.
Zusrall was once again of a lower rank than her, so he had to listen to her even if he did
occasionally like to tease her. He returned to find Edorengu a room, informing him that
Vizaness was retrieving the thrall he requested. He had his own thrall prepare the room for
him. The thrall carried in a tray of clean towels, additional lubricants, and water. Zusrall also
snuck in a little bit of Presmer’s favorite snack which consisted of fresh ripplebark with a fire
lichen spread. “Your payment, please?” The thrall asked, holding out their hand. Edorengu
handed over 3 mindgates, which the thrall would dutifully give to Zusrall. “Have fun,
honored guest!” They bowed to him, leaving the room.

Vizaness retrieved Presmer from the escort’s quarters. “You made quite an impression on one
of our customers last night. He already wants to see you again.” Vizaness informed him.

“Which one?” He asked. He enjoyed them both quite a bit but the illithid with the spectacles
really stood out to him.

“Edorengu.” She informed him. Presmer found himself eager to see that illithid again.
“Looks like you enjoyed his company as well.” She said. Presmer blushed at her comment.

Vizaness led him into the room where Edorengu was waiting. “My apologies for keeping you
waiting. I was in the middle of training one of my thralls.” Vizaness said. Presmer smiled
softly at Edorengu.

“That’s quite alright.” He accepted her apology. The only person who had ever seemed
happy to see him was Anraje, but Presmer’s smile was different. There was more warmth
behind it than he’d ever perceived.

“I’ll leave you two alone. Enjoy yourself!” Vizaness encouraged before she left the room.
This room had a large and comfortable moss bed, and Presmer sat on it next to Edorengu.
He’d had sex with this thrall before. Why was he still so shy!?

“I guess I’m not very brave without Ursulude to move things along, am I?” Edorengu
pointed out. “Most of us aren’t taught about these things… It’s terrifying.” The wealth
manager admitted.

“We can take it slowly. We’ve got time.” Presmer tried to calm him. He places his hand on
the illithid’s. “I feel a little shy too, but it’s nice to see you again.” He admitted.

Edorengu brought himself further onto the bed and patted the pillow next to him for Presmer
to join him. He took off his spectacles, setting them aside. Presmer got comfortable, laying
down next to him.
“So… Besides your job… Do you have any hobbies?” Edorengu asked. His maid surprisingly
enjoyed making jewelry. It was a hobby that brought a little bit of extra income into his home
and she was able to create designs appealing to illithids. Presmer’s eyes lit up at his question.
No one had ever asked before.

“I’m good at sewing! I don’t get to do it very often but embroidery is a lot of fun. I like
learning facts about fungi too. I think they’re neat!” Presmer shared.

“I too enjoy arts but mine are of the more temporary variety. It is called bonseki. It originates
from a pair of islands far beyond the trackless sea called Wa and Kozukura. It is the art of
recreating the natural world with white sand and stones on a black tray.” Edorengu
explained. He focused his thoughts on showing Presmer an example. White sand was
arranged on a black tray to look like a mushroom forest.

“That’s so pretty!” Presmer sounded like he was in awe.

“What’s your favorite fungus?” Edorengu asked.

“Glowcaps. The orange ones just seem so warm.” Presmer turned onto his side. “Are you
alright with me touching you?” He asked the illithid.

“Yes.” It felt practically instinctive as Presmer gently grasped his tentacle, inviting him into
his mind.

“There’s no rush. No pressure.” Presmer said softly, remembering his mistress’ lessons. “You
can enjoy me however you please. Well… Almost. You’d be banned permanently if you ate
me.” He chuckled.

His high spirits surrounding his dark joke was strangely refreshing to Edorengu. Presmer’s
mind was calm and comforting. The way this thrall handled his nervousness was a kind of
elegance all its own. There were no expectations. Only an open mind to connect with as he
pleased. Edorengu reached out and slowly caressed him. Clawed fingers trailed from his
cheek, down his neck and shoulder, before rubbing over his arm. His tentacles began to
embrace him gently. Presmer sat up and turned himself to face Edorengu. He wanted to try
something he’d seen his mistress do with Kalamash. He gently took Edorengu’s head in his
hands and pressed his forehead against the illithid’s.

The result was warmth, not just on a physical level, but on an emotional one. Ursulude had
been correct. The sensation of touch was remarkable. Edorengu felt like a piece of psionic
circuitry and every touch was a connection that completed it. Presmer began kissing one of
his tentacles, trailing along its length delicately as it wrapped around his left arm. Edorengu
purred approvingly. His right hand was holding Edorengu’s hand. “Do customers normally
do this?” Edorengu asked.
“Elzaphir says they normally don’t, but that his favorites are the ones who do. If it feels good,
that’s all that matters. I’ll do everything I can to make you feel good.” Presmer responded.

“You’re doing an excellent job.” Edorengu praised him. His tentacles slowly became more
adventurous, snaking his way under Presmer’s robes. Presmer eagerly took them off,
encouraging Edorengu to join him in his nudity. Edorengu readily obliged. He wanted the
illithid to explore his body to his heart’s content. As much or as little as Edorengu wanted,
Presmer was simply happy to be shown affection. Edorengu wanted more and Presmer
responded, leaning into his desire.

They connected once more. Edorengu pinned the human down, pressing his forehead against
him as his tentacles grasped, rubbed and marked him. One of them gently coiled around
Presmer’s manhood and their breathing quickened. He purred again. That garlic vanilla scent
had once again become comforting and warm on Presmer’s nostrils. Presmer wrapped his
arms around Edorengu without a care in the slightest that he was getting ever slimier from
him.

The urge to call him by his nickname was strong. He thought it was cute but he tried to fight
back the urge. “I suppose you can call me that when we’re alone…” The illithid conceded.

“Th-thank you…” Presmer smiled. Everything felt like a compulsion to Presmer and he
wanted to give in to all of it. His mistress made him feel good, but Edorengu brought out a
feeling he’d never felt before. He softly whimpered, giving in to the feelings.

“Ah… Rengu…!” He softly moaned. Edorengu shivered pleasurably, bringing the human
into his lap. Presmer laid there, his torso on the bed. He stroked Edorengu’s tentacles on his
body. His jaw dropped, his breath hitched, squirming softly in his lap. He felt himself
sweating as their bodies heated up. Their touch became constant, completing the circuit of
their mind. Neurons activated in rapid reciprocation.

“Presmer… Oh, Presmer! You’re exquisite!” Edorengu had never felt anything like it. Last
time was phenomenal, but this was far more intimate than he could have ever expected.
Presmer was surrounded by that scent. He would happily be marked by it every day.

Edorengu’s passionate praise sent his mind deeper into the connection. Presmer was going to
please him. He was going to give him what he wanted. He let out the cutest strained whimper
Edorengu had ever heard as he grew close to cumming. Edorengu joined him with an
undignified gurgled sound of his own as he felt the human’s semen dribble onto his tentacle.
After several moments, he gently pulled himself free, getting a towel to wipe off his
tentacles.

“They left you some snacks here. Would you like them?” Edorengu asked. He chugged one of
the goblets of water for himself. Presmer sat up with a big smile on his face.

“Yes, please!” He said. Presmer seemed to radiate happiness when the act was done. He
loved that smile. He brought over the ripplebark to him. “Oh, nice! They got my favorite!”
Presmer seemed elated.

“Ripplebark? Good to know.” Edorengu said. He hoped they didn’t charge extra for that…

“Do you want to try it?” Presmer asked. Edorengu had never taste linked with a thrall before,
but he saw no harm in trying. He nodded softly peering into his mind as he bit into his
mushrooms.

“What a fascinating flavor! It’s delicious, Presmer!” He quite enjoyed sharing it with him.

“You could eat that as often as you wanted if you lived with me…” Edorengu said.

“That would be nice…” Presmer said. He was oblivious to what Edorengu was hinting at.
Edorengu had been looking to purchase a second thrall for his home, wondering if his current
thrall was depressed being by herself. He now knew that he wanted someone to come home
to.

“I could make that a reality, if your mistress will allow it.” He said. “Would you like that?”
He asked. His eyes widened. He’d have a room all his own? Just like Kalamash?

“I think I would.” Presmer smiled. “B-but if she says no for some reason, you can see me
anytime you want.” Presmer didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he wanted to see him more.
Edorengu pulled on his robes and put on his spectacles, making sure he looked presentable.
He called for Vizaness and made his intent to buy clear to her. Vizaness was ecstatic and
deeply surprised that Presmer had such a strong impression on him.

“What’s your offer?” Vizaness asked.

“50 mindgates, kept in my home. I can pay you immediately if you'll follow me.” He offered.
Same day payment? That was even better!

“You’ve got yourself a deal!” Vizaness shook his hand on it. Vizaness called Kalamash to
come with her and encouraged Presmer to pack up his few belongings. They packed his
sewing supplies, a couple changes of clothes, and embroidery cloth and hoops. Presmer could
hardly believe this was really happening. He felt like he was in a dream. He didn’t even get to
say goodbye to Elzaphir. Vizaness was not under any circumstances allowed to sell that
thrall. The drow masseur was creed property.

The trip to Edorengu’s domicile felt like a blur with the overwhelming realization that his life
would be completely different now. The mindgates were exchanged and just like that, the
leash was handed off to Edorengu. “I knew you’d make me proud, Presmer. Nice work,
Golden Boy.” Vizaness told him, her tentacles curling from a successful transaction. She left
him with Edorengu, eager to celebrate at The Succulent Encephalon. Maybe she’d rub her
little victory in Zusrall’s face by inviting him to come long.

Edorengu led Presmer inside, showing him to a room gently lit with orange glowcaps
growing from Zurkhwood Logs, a stone desk and chair in which to store his things with a
matching wardrobe. The moss bed was smaller than the ones in the back rooms, but it was
the biggest he’d ever sleep in. The pillow moss looked very soft. It was the coziest space he’d
ever seen and it was his. Tears welled up in Presmer’s eyes and he started to cry.

“What’s wrong!?” Edorengu couldn’t figure out why he was crying! What could have moved
him to such extreme emotion?

“Master! I love it!” He cried, hugging Edorengu tightly. The maid watched this blubbering
human hug her master with extreme confusion. Presmer’s tears were of joy… He had never
felt such gratitude from another being in his life. He knew that he’d made a good purchase.

Edorengu softly hugged him. “Welcome home, Presmer.” He said to his new thrall.
 Fantasy Fulfillment
Chapter Summary

Srebral takes Maybelle to The Breeding Pen and finds the experience to be rather
therapeutic.

Srebral couldn’t believe he was considering such a perverse offer from Vizaness and yet he
started to wonder what it would feel like to kiss Maybelle like she kissed him. His thoughts
were a mess. He started having dirty thoughts about Maybelle being bent over before him,
submissively begging for him. He imagined what it would look like, taking control of
Kalamash and-

“We got the onions, sir!” Maybelle announced. She was holding a sack of onions. “There’s
red onions and yellow onions, right? Did I get the right ones?” She asked. Srebral forgot to
tell her what kind of onions to get but thankfully she had gotten yellow onions.

He inspected the goods she and Shelura brought. “Yes. These are perfect. I’ll show you how
to peel them.” He wanted to train her in more aspects of his business to make her the best
employee he could. “It can be frustrating to get the skin off of these things, but they’re one of
my favorite vegetables to work with.” He grabbed an onion from the bag and placed it on a
cutting board. Maybelle watched him attentively as he cut it in half with a knife. “So first, we
cut it in half… Long ways, right through the stem and root end.” He then cut off the stem
ends. “We want to leave the root ends intact and cut off our stem ends. Then we peel off that
first layer. Don’t be afraid to peel the layer under it if you have to.” He begins peeling, and
Maybelle does her best to follow along with her own onion.

“Now here’s why we leave that root end on. I’ll slice long ways, and that root end keeps it all
together! When you start chopping, it all stays together instead of falling apart!” He chopped
the onion into fine pieces.

“Oh! So that’s how Wesmi makes it look so effortless!” Maybelle smiled. She carefully
chopped her onion, turning it into tiny chunks.

“You’ve got it! Did you know there’s actually quite a few varieties of onions?” He decided to
reward her with a fun fact.

“No! Tell me about them?” She took a genuine interest in the subject.
“Well yellow onions are your all around onion that you can use for just about anything!
They’re slightly sweeter than the Amnian onion.” He started sharing his knowledge.

“I notice when they’re cooked, they smell a lot like you. It smells nice.” She smiles. Srebral
blushed at her compliment. He was aware he smelled like cooking onions but no one had
ever told him that they liked it.

“Red onions have a very sharp flavor so thankfully you didn’t buy the red ones. Those are
more for pickling and salads. Sweet onions however are my favorite for caramelizing.
Shelura likes them so much, she’ll eat them raw. They don’t keep as well as other onions, so I
don’t get them very often. Pearl onions are also highly versatile, but they’re a pain in the ass
to peel. The trick I showed you doesn’t work on them.” He rambled about the properties of
onions.

Wesmi would be using the onions in more of their newest soup, which had proved quite
popular from the start. Srebral had to give Vizaness credit where it was due. Maybelle had
excellent taste. Her human palette was great for experimenting with a wide variety of
ingredients and flavors. Perhaps he would even try to teach her how to cook complete meals
soon. He still had to teach her how to make his wine. The smile on her face warmed his heart.
“Wow, I had no idea onions were so complex!” Maybelle said. To her, he was able to make
even the most mundane things seem fascinating. “I guess you could say they have layers!”
She joked.

Srebal’s tentacles wiggled in amusement at her pun. “Maybelle! That was terrible!” Wesmi
was cracking a smile anyway.

When no one else was looking she kissed his cheek. Srebral knew she was thinking about
doing that and allowed it. His tentacles curled softly as he rubbed the spot where she kissed
him. “I’ll see you after work.” He told her. Maybelle winked at him as she returned to work.
He was looking forward to talking to her after hours.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Every third night the ladies played games with each other,
usually with talis cards. Other games that they played included traitor’s heads, draughts and
the gnomish dice game of Yahootz. Srebral never joined them for these games. Maybelle was
changing into her comfortable white robes. Srebral knocked on her door. “Come in!” she
said. He opened the door to see her changing. “Ah!” Srebral let out a surprised noise when he
walked in on the nude human putting on her robes.

“Is something wrong, sir?” Maybelle asked.

“No! I just wasn’t expecting you to be naked…” He answered.

“You’ve already seen it all before but I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.” She said.
“It’s fine! It’s fine…” Srebral’s tentacles waved dismissively. His face flushed pale.

“Say, did you want to join us for game night?” She asked. He’d never been invited before. He
cursed his luck. He had forgotten it was game night. He could speak to her mentally in
private while they played… Would they even want him at the table? What the fuck was he
thinking? They were his thralls! Of course he could invite himself. Maybelle looked up at
him with a welcoming smile.

“Alright, alright. I suppose I can stay and play a game or two…” He would try to humor
her.

“Yay!” Maybelle hugs him. “Hey, everyone! Our boss wants to play too!” She held his hand
as she came into the break room with him.

None of them seemed hostile to him joining. Today they were playing Yahootz. “The rules of
this game are simple. All you need is five six-sided dice, paper, quill and ink. Roll the dice up
to 3 times and try to build a set to gain points on your scorecard. Shelura made the
scorecards! The finer details will be explained as we go.” Maybelle explained.

Shelura went first, getting five ones on her turn. “Yahootz!” She exclaimed.

“A yahootz is a set of the same 5 numbers. It's worth 50 points!” Maybelle explained. Around
the table they went, taking turns. Srebral was able to pick up the concept quickly. He
privately speaks to Maybelle mentally.

“Vizaness made me an… Interesting proposition, Maybelle.” He started.

Maybelle subtly looked at him. “What was it?” She mentally asked as Brilanna took her
turn.

“The back rooms with her and Kalamash?” He proposed.

“I've never done anything with him but I like him. He's nice. I'm willing to give it a try.” She
responded, smiling.

He tried not to blush. She caught on quickly.

“Want to go after this? ” He asked.

“Oh my, how bold! Sure.” Maybelle responded, giving him a barely concealed smirk. Wesmi
took her turn, getting three fours. Maybelle felt rather mischievous having this private
conversation. They were speaking so casually of sex in front of everyone with their minds
and none of the others had any idea. There was something rather exciting about it to her.
Srebral had to make a conscious effort to appear calm for the rest of the game. The players
rolled dice until they added up their points at the end. Wesmi had won the game! It had only
taken Srebral one round before he wanted to play a different kind of game with Maybelle.

The rest of them already knew he was involved with her and that they should never tell
anyone about it. “Excuse us, ladies.” Srebral instructed Maybelle to come with him. He
didn’t like to interrupt Maybelle during her social activities. He knew she didn’t have any real
friends at the menagerie. She deserved people who wanted her around like he did. If she
hadn’t expressed such a willingness to indulge him, he would have waited until another time.

“See you all tomorrow! Bye!” Maybelle cheerfully waved goodbye to them. Wesmi and
Brilanna both had a strong suspicion about what the two of them would be doing. Brilanna
remained silent.

“Goodnight you two! Have a good one.” Wesmi smirked.

“See you around!” Shelura waved.

Maybelle followed him to The Breeding Pen, wishing she could ask him more about this, but
she knew this wasn’t the time to ask. She had to wait until they got there to satisfy her
curiosity. Srebral had one half of Vizaness’ payment. He was still thinking about what to do
for the other carving, but he thought he had a good idea of what to do. Vizaness made good
on her promise to bring him to the back rooms when he gave her a carved mouse made of red
fluorite. She thought that it was adorable! “I hope the other one you make is just as cute.”
She held it in her tentacle, admiring it. “Now then… Shall we talk ‘business’?” She leaned
against Kalamash as she levitated, clearly very drawn to this thrall.

She showed Kalamash affection that he wished he could show Maybelle more openly. His
questions were for Maybelle. “I’m going to take over Kalamash for this. Is there anything
that you don’t want me to do?” Srebral asked Maybelle. He gently put his hand on her
shoulder.

“Kalamash is something of a gentle giant, so it’s best not to be too rough with me to keep him
from getting upset.” Maybelle recalled from the times she’d seen him at the bath area. “Don’t
be surprised if Vizaness wants to join in.” She said with a smirk.

Srebral looked at Vizaness with surprise. Kalamash rubbed the back of his head bashfully.
“What? You can’t expect me not to have fun too. I did get you in here for a good and cheap
rate, after all!” She said.

“Are you alright with that, Maybelle?” He asked.

“Mhm! She taught me a lot of what I know.” Maybelle admitted.

“Oh… Was any of that hands on…?” He asked, blushing. He knew other illithids had put
their tentacles on her. He didn’t see it as a bad thing. How else would she have known how to
do the things that she does to him?

“Surprisingly, no.” Maybelle replied.

“Surprisingly??” Both illithids asked in unison. Maybelle giggled in response. Vizaness

knew damn well why she said that.

It seemed rather touch and go for Srebral. Kalamash knew the deal and eagerly allowed the
illithid to take control of him. Vizaness took on a more passive role in feeling Maybelle’s
sensations. Maybelle stripped out of her robes. She gave Kalamash a soft smile. She was so
beautiful to Srebral. He had to have her and he decided to test out Kalamash’s raw strength
by sweeping her off of her feet. Maybelle let out a surprised noise, laughing softly. He held
her bridal style. Maybelle leaned in to kiss his lips. Srebral could feel his eagerness
intertwining with Kalamash’s. He was glad they were on the same page. Their kisses turned
passionate. Vizaness felt Maybelle’s excitement and her breathing quickened.

Maybelle was placed on the moss bed. Srebral made Kalamash kiss, lick and suck on her
ample bosom. Her nipples became hard and she sighed pleasurably from the attention he was
giving her. “I had a feeling that would become your favorite feature.” Vizaness commented
to Srebral.

“Can you blame me? They’re so soft. Honestly they make really good pillows and they’re
nice to squeeze…” He admitted. Maybelle ran her fingers through Kalamash’s hair.

“Can I try?” Vizaness asked.

“Sure.” Srebral gave her permission. Vizaness approached Maybelle, reaching out and
squeezing her breasts with her hands. Her large breasts didn’t even fit in her hands!

“Oooh. There is an appeal to this tactile sensation.” Vizaness began teasing her with her
tentacles. Maybelle gently stroked one of her free tentacles in response.

Kalamash had a mental suggestion for Srebral. “Could you put my face between her legs? I
can use my mouth to make them feel good.” He requested. Srebral wanted to hear her moans.
They were the cutest sound. He obliged the half-orc’s request and Kalamash began licking
Maybelle’s wet folds.

“O-oh! That feels f-funny!” Maybelle whimpered softly. Vizaness saw it coming and her
tentacles still twitched in response.

“Should I stop?” Srebral asked Maybelle.

“No! Keep going!” Maybelle and Vizaness thought in unison.

Maybelle soon felt her legs trembling as she moaned from both the tentacles on her tits and
the half-orc pleasuring her pussy. Vizaness was purring with approval, sticking a tentacle into
Maybelle’s mouth. She sucked on it eagerly, her moans becoming muffled. Soon, Kalamash’s
needs became too much to ignore. “Can you bend over for me, Maybelle?” Srebal asked.
Vizaness levitated Maybelle and flipped her over, before elegantly setting her down.
Maybelle adjusted the position of her legs as she bent over for him. She wiggled her butt
temptingly with a grin on her face.

Srebral had an awkward time at controlling Kalamash’s limbs at first. “I can help.”
Kalamash offered. He relinquished some of his control, allowing Kalamash to slowly push
his cock into Maybelle.

“So tight…!” Kalamash gasps. Srebral made a soft gurgled whimper as he made Kalamash
grip her hips and thrust into her harder in response to her moans.

“Oh fuck! Oh yes! Take me, Master!” Maybelle eagerly took every inch, backing up against
the half orc’s thick cock. Vizaness got even bolder, moving back to reach her tentacles around
Kalamash’s balls. She playfully smacks one of the human’s buttcheeks and Maybelle lets out
a moan. “Oooh…!” She gurgled. “I can see why she was so popular…” Vizaness remarks.

Srebral brought himself in front of Maybelle, letting Kalamash take over for a moment. He
takes Maybelle’s hand, holding it. One of his tentacles cups her chin tenderly. Maybelle held
his hand looking at him for approval. “Am I being a good stress reliever?” She asked
fervently. Srebral’s purrs told her she was.

“You’re perfect! So soft… So pretty. I’m so glad… That you’re mine!” Srebral praised. She
kissed one of his tentacles eagerly.

“Ah! Yes! I’m yours…” She moaned. “I love being your favorite thrall!” Normally such a
statement would have been seen as arrogant but they both mutually knew it was true.

Kalamash grunted as he filled her with his seed. Maybelle kept going, backing against
Kalamash’s twitching cock. “A-ah shit! M-maybelle!” Srebral gurgled.
“Don’t worry. He’s sterile.” Vizaness assured her customer. Maybelle pulled herself off of his
cock, letting his seed drip out of her. Vizaness rubbed a tentacle against her dripping pussy.
“Oh my… She still wants more! What do you say? Want to go for round two, Srebral?”
Vizaness offers.

Maybelle rolled onto her back. Vizaness psionically lifted her up and used a couple of moss
pillows to give her some more leverage. Kalamash began rubbing his cock against her pussy,
rubbing eagerly without sticking it in. “Hrrnhh…!” Srebral purred as he felt drawn to
Maybelle’s mind. She whimpered at the sensations bombarding her. She reached up, mentally
begging for Srebral. Srebal leaned into her desire, allowing her to pull him close and press his
forehead against hers. It made him nervous at first and then there was a spark, and then
warmth, then comfort. It accompanied the pleasure she felt and they felt drawn into one
another. Vizaness used one of her tentacles to guide Kalamash’s cock back inside of
Maybelle.

Srebral began marking her with his tentacles once more, sliding them over her nipples and
getting her large breasts completely slimy. Vizaness teased her clit and massaged Kalamash’s
balls with her tentacles. Their thoughts emptied. Only feelings remained between them.
Maybelle relaxes, holding onto Srebral’s hand. She closed her eyes, sinking deep into the
feelings she felt. “Good boy! Keep going!” Vizaness praised her thrall. Maybelle couldn’t
even form a coherent thought outside of filthy thoughts of being filled with cum and covered
in illithid slime, all to please her master. These thoughts persisted in her psyche almost
intrusively. Each and every thought and feeling was accepted. Srebral pushed into her mind
deeper and more aggressively, daring her to push back once more. Raw thoughts pushed
against raw thoughts. Pure emotion. A pure connection.

Maybelle felt her inner walls spasm on Kalamash’s cock. She cried out, unable to stay quiet
no matter how she tried. Vizaness pulled his cock out of Maybelle, letting him cover her
tentacles in his cum.

Srebral’s tentacles twitched as he collapsed, resting his head on Maybelle’s chest. He was
surprised that Vizaness had such tastes, but to each their own he supposed. He felt
indifference towards her incredibly salacious actions. Vizaness laid down on her back, telling
Kalamash to clean her up. “So. Did we learn something new?” Vizaness privately asked
Srebral as her thrall cleaned the cum off of her tentacles.

“I honestly have no fucking clue…” Srebral responded, but he did enjoy himself immensely.

“I don’t think you have to worry about hurting Maybelle. It’s obvious you care deeply about
her feelings. She cares about yours too.” Vizaness’ tentacles curled contently as she cuddled
with Kalamash.
Maybelle tiredly wrapped an arm around him and kissed the top of his head. She planted
several loving kisses on him. Maybe he would get that bedding for the spare room after all…
 Space is the Place
Chapter Summary

Geddask and Madalyn finally get into space, and learn more about this place!

Madalyn was mentally reading the book she brought with her for entertainment to Geddask
as they patiently waited for the ship to get out into the Trackless Sea. One of her arms was
wrapped around Geddask as they used a tentacle to turn the page. One of the crew, a 14 year
old boy, was staring into the room with the youngest cabin boy, an 11 year old. Despite
Madalyn’s stern appearance, she didn’t hate children at all. In fact, she had once thought
about having some of her own. Maybe she and Geddask could adopt? She fondly
remembered one of the neighbor kids and his friends demanding to see her cat. The cat in
question was actually Geddask and she had polymorphed him once more simply to let the
kids play with him.

She’s quite sure their parents told them not to bother them ever again because they never
came around again. She looked at the kids sneaking peeks at them and whispering. “They
aren’t going to bite you. Mind Flayers don’t eat children.” She assured them. “They aren’t
ripe.” She joked.

“Don’t tell them that!” Geddask lightly slapped her arm with a tentacle.

“If you have any questions, I’m happy to answer them.” She offered. Most people found the
incessant questioning of children to be annoying but Madalyn knew it was simply the way
that they learned about the world around them.

“How many brains have you eaten?” The older boy asked.

“A mind flayer must eat a minimum of 1 brain per month or they will starve. I have
consumed at least 430 brains in my lifetime.” Geddask answered honestly.

“Woah…” The boys seemed strangely impressed with such a high number.

“Geddask was eating criminals that did their business in the city sewers and the occasional
monster.” Madalyn clarified.
The children began to ask questions in rapid succession. "Can you float? If you do, why
aren't you floating? What's floating like? Did you not like it?" They asked. Geddask was
bemused by the string of queries.

“Yes, I can float. I do not feel like floating right now. I suppose you would consider the
sensation to be weightlessness. As for whether I liked it or not, I never really thought about it.
It comes as naturally to me as walking does to you.” They did their best to answer.

"Are you slimy? Why are you slimy? Is it because you are fish-like? Do you need much
water? You look like a fish I saw once at the market, are you related to some kind of fish?"
They asked. Madalyn chuckled softly at their questioning.

“We drink water just like you do, but I’m no fish! Although mind flayers do have gills. My
psychic powers come from my slime.” They started to explain.

“Does that mean you can breathe underwater?” The older boy asked.

“No. Not anymore. They’re from when I was a tadpole. When we’re ‘babies’ we look like frog
tadpoles and the first decade of our lives is spent in a brine pool. The gills were so we could
breathe.” Geddask tries to explain in more simplistic terms for the child to understand.

“How do you breathe now?” The younger boy asked.

“Through my mouth.” Geddask replied.

“Quit bothering them!” The helmet wearing goblin scolded them. “Don’t you still have
chores to do??” He tried to get them to leave.

“Uh, right! Eheheh…” The younger boy ran off with the older boy.

“It really wasn’t a bother to us at all.” Geddask insisted. “Their curious minds were a
welcome distraction.” They admitted.

“What? You thinking about adopting a kid or something?” The goblin asked.

“Well how else would we have kids if we wanted to?” Madalyn asked. Geddask stared at the
goblin.

“Please stop having that thought process immediately.” Geddask firmly requested of him. “I
suppose anything is possible. Madalyn has a soft spot for children.” They replied.

“Oy! Lass and far squid! We be leavin’ planetside soon!” Captain Arnam announced.
Geddask perked their head up and eagerly levitated up to one of the portside windows.
“Wait up, Geddask!” Madalyn called after them. “Come on, move over and let me see too.”

“Well… Look at that. We’re really flying…” The illithid sounded like they were dazed.

“Are you alright, Geddask?” Madalyn asked.

“I don’t know if I like heights very much after all…” They said. “I’ll be fine. I know that the
sense of dread I am feeling is purely irrational.” Geddask said calmly, despite the reality of
leaving their entire planet setting in. It was different when they were flying as a Raven,
because they were in control. They felt a lack of control over the situation.

Madalyn reached for their hand and reassuringly squeezed it. “You made it this far… What’s
a little farther?” Madalyn asked. Geddask leaned in and gently pressed their forehead against
hers. The illithid placed a tentacle on her shoulder.

“I can manage that. For you.” They said. Over the next half an hour, the ship began climbing
above the clouds. Geddask saw clouds for miles around. If a massive dragon or something
decided to attack, how screwed would they be? Geddask pushed the unpleasant intrusive
thought out of their head. They had looked out the window enough for now.

“How long does it take a spelljammer to leave Toril?” Geddask decided to ask the
helmsman.

“The estimated time it takes for a spelljammer to leave a planet depends upon the size of the
planet. Planets generally fall through size class A through J. While a size A planet may take
only mere minutes to leave, a size J planet can take a day and a half. Toril is a size class E
planet. These planets usually take 1 hour, provided the weather is favorable like it is now.”
Finoran answered.

“I wonder what traveling in space looks like…” Geddask pondered.

“This baby can move a lot faster than this!” Finoran said. “Once we leave the atmosphere, we
can attain what’s called ‘spelljamming speed’. We can cover 100 million miles in a day!”

Geddask never imagined they could cover such a distance, even if Madalyn learned how to
teleport! “It’s mind boggling to think about how big the place we live in really is…” Madalyn
said.

“This isn’t even half of it! We’ve been to whole other worlds, lass.” Captain Arnam said.

“I’m familiar with the concept of the multiverse although I did not have going to completely
different realms in mind when Madalyn said we should go somewhere far away.” Geddask
looked at Madalyn.
“I guess it kind of got out of hand, hm?” Madalyn averted her eyes, shyly smiling.

“A bit, but I’m going to assume that’s because neither of us know anything about what we’re
doing…” Geddask said.

“We have left Toril’s atmosphere!” Finoran announced.

“Come on deck with me, you two. There’s somethin’ I want ye to see.” Arnam said. The two
of them curiously followed the captain onto the deck. Geddask’s tentacles went limp. If they
had a jaw it would have dropped. Madalyn was in awe. They could see their entire planet
from here, floating in the inky void of Wildspace. The sight brought a tear to the wizard’s
eye.

“A new sailor never forgets the view o’ their home planet.” Captain Arnam told them. His
voice had a hint of warm nostalgia to it.

“Captain, did you come from this planet?” Geddask asked.

“Nay. I came from Oerth of the Greyspace crystal sphere.” Arnam replied.

“Crystal Sphere?” Madalyn asked.

“Every planetary system in the multiverse is surrounded by a crystalline shell which looks
like dark ceramic but it be unbreakable!” Captain Arnam explained.

“So how do you get out of it?” Geddask asked.

“Finoran just casts a Phase Door spell on it, but there be naturally occurring portals if ye can
find them. Space dragons can come and go through a sphere as they please, as well as The
Spelljammer.” The captain answered.

“Why did you put emphasis on that last bit?” Geddask asked.

“One can’t call themselves a true spacefarer without knowing about the legendary ship! It
looks like a gigantic manta ray and houses an entire city on it’s back. It’s THE ship that gives
it’s name to spelljamming and everything connected to it. I’ve seen it with me own eye once
when I was a lad. I’ve spent me whole life trying to find it again.” The Captain shares a bit of
his own tale.

“I hope you’re successful in your quest.” Madalyn tells him.

“How did you first start traveling in wildspace?” Geddask asked.

“I was a stowaway, not unlike my cabin boy! Har har!” He heartily replied.

“You ran away? That’s relatable. I ran away from my home too…” Geddask said.

“I still visit my mother! What kind of monster doesn’t visit his friends and family?” Arnam
added.

“My parents are dead to me.” Madalyn said bluntly.

“And buried they shall stay out here. No one said family had to be the kin ye were born
with.” The Captain smiled. “Sometimes family are the people we find outside of our own
spheres.”

As they contemplated the captain’s words, they caught sight of a white streak that zoomed
past them. It whinnied as it sped past them. Madalyn swore she saw a pure white horse
leaving a cloud of sparkling stardust in it’s wake.

“Was that a horse?? In space!?” Madalyn blinked in surprise.

“Hurry! Collect the dust! It’s good luck!” The captain urged. Geddask quickly grabbed an
empty bottle from their belt. They always made sure to have an empty bottle on their person.
They managed to scoop some of the floating dust into the bottle.

“What was that creature?” Geddask was curious.

“Ye must be the luckiest groundlings I’ve ever met… That was a comet steed! They’re one o’
the few creatures that can travel at spelljamming speeds… They say that stardust makes them
resistant to magic, not that we’ve ever tried to cast spells on them.” Captain Arnam shared his
knowledge.

“I know someone back in my old colony who would have loved to witness such a creature. I
wish I could tell them about it. I hope they’re doing well.” Geddask lamented.

“Maybe they went on an adventure of their own.” Madalyn tried to cheer them up.

“The probability of that is statistically unlikely, but it is still a comforting thought. Thank
you.” Geddask would never learn just how wrong their assumption was.

Dess was one of the few ceremorphs they actually liked from their colony and they were on
friendly terms. They might have become an Ariser or a Creative creed illithid, had they not
failed so spectacularly to turn anyone into a thrall. “Do ye have any clue what ye be doin’
when we get to port side?” The captain asked them.
“Not in the slightest!” Madalyn boldly admitted.

“Whatever we do, I hope we succeed, or at least fail well enough to try again…” Geddask
pondered.

Madalyn taught them that it was alright to fail. They had her to fall back on. Even when they
failed to survive she was there, despite telling them she wouldn’t be. Perhaps there was such
a thing as failing upwards.

“Geddask, Ye remind me of myself when I was a lad. I suppose the least we can do is show
ye around when we get to Bral.” The captain relented. It wouldn’t be right to leave them
clueless. Bral was a haven for pirates and crime, but it was also one of the most cosmopolitan
places in Realmspace. A couple of groundlings that barely knew anything about wildspace
would have difficulty fitting in.

Geddask wondered what the captain’s motives were. He seemed to be a very guarded man.
His thoughts were hard to read, like someone who wouldn’t give up their secrets until they
wanted to. “That would be kind of you. Thank you.” Geddask thought it was strange but
decided to remain cordial.

“Madalyn, this person is so weird! His mind is practically fortified!” Geddask privately
expressed their concerns to their lover.

“He’s probably using magic to keep people like you from snooping!” Madalyn pointed out.

“I do not snoop! I am merely inquisitive!” Geddask protested.

“Oh, yes. Highly inquisitive.” She rolled her eyes and grinned.

“You know I dislike sarcasm! It’s hard to tell when people are using it.” Geddask scolded.

“You get it just fine with me.” Madalyn retorted. They sure did. Geddask couldn’t deny that.

Geddask reached for Madalyn’s hand, gently grasping it. They pulled her close, pressing their
forehead against hers as the countless stars of space whizzed by. “I think I’m home,
Madalyn…” Geddask told her.

“Welcome home, Geddask.” Madalyn replied with a smile, before leaving a lipstick stain on
the ridge of his tentacles with a kiss.
 Jealousy
Chapter Summary

Valdran is upset that Vizaness chose Kalamash as her partner for the high tier erotic
dominance tournament. Vizaness feels a need to mend his wounded feelings!

Valdran checked the calendar. The thralls often kept these “primitive time keeping devices”
in their dwellings to mark the passage of time. The thralls often used these to remember when
to do important tasks, so illithids like Vizaness didn’t mind their use. It was unobtrusive
visual clutter to them. Some of the more artistic thralls even created visually appealing ones
that had art on them. This particular one had scientific illustrations of fungi. Valdran couldn’t
wait to practice with his mistress for the next erotic dominance tournament! “Training” was
clearly marked on it in the hobgoblin’s handwriting.

“She already chose Kalamash as her champion for the high tier.” Elzaphir informed him.

“W-what?! I thought he was banned from tournament use!” Valdran was shocked.

“They apparently decided that he was fine for the high tier. They must have some really
tough opponents in there…” Elzaphir said.

“B-but I’m a two time champion! Why didn’t she choose me!?” Valdran sounded hurt and
upset. With the way he talked about Selessk, it wasn’t any surprise to Elzaphir.

“Uh… Valdran…?” Elzaphir tried to get the ranting hobgoblin’s attention. Vizaness was right
behind him.

“Why didn’t she even bother to tell me she chose someone else? Even Presmer got alone time
with her and I’ve been serving her for years! It makes me feel like chopped liver sometimes!”
Valdran grumbled.

“Valdran!” Elzaphir snapped.

“What!?” Valdran snapped back.

“Turn around.” Elzaphir smirked. Valdran turned around and yelped when he saw his
mistress.

“Mistress! H-how long have you been there??” He asked nervously.

“Long enough.” She answered with a vague yet innocent tone.

“Can I ask you to forget what you heard? It’s stupid and dumb and I shouldn’t be saying any
of it!” Valdran was clearly ashamed and embarrassed.

Vizaness was originally going to bring Elzaphir back to her place for a massage on her day
off, but the breeder's work was never truly done… She couldn’t leave her best breeding stock
feeling like “chopped liver”. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Valdran.” She said. Valdran sighed.

“I’ll go get the chastity device…” He mumbled.

“I never said you were in trouble!” Her giggles were so cute to her thralls. “Come. We shall
speak privately. Elzaphir, we’ll reschedule that massage.” She commanded Valdran to come
with her.

“You’re not mad…?” He wanted to be sure as he followed her.

“No. Why would I be mad at you merely for having feelings? That would be needlessly
cruel.” She told him. Zusrall’s thrall went through a similar bout of jealousy. If he could
handle it, so could she. She had to admit Zusrall did give good advice, even when he got on
her nerves. She still liked him quite a bit, but it was more tolerable now. She had her favorite
thralls who adored her.

Valdran was relieved she wasn’t upset with him, but he did feel a bit silly as he followed her
to her domicile. He hadn’t been in here since she had her first personal thrall. A human man
who passed away from a mysterious illness. The Golden Boys never brought him up again
because Vizaness never fully recovered from the lack of closure. “Kalamash, can I borrow
your blanket? Valdran and I need to have a little private chat in my chambers.” Vizaness
requested. Kalamash got it without question and handed it to her, albeit a bit sloppily folded
up.

Vizaness’ bed had a generous amount of moss pillows on it. Some of them were dyed pink
and yellow and made to look like abstract shapes. A couple of them were designed to look
like mushrooms. Vizaness spread the blanket onto her bed and levitated into a comfortable
spot on it among her many moss pillows. She mentally encourages him to come into bed with
her. He crawled into the bed and joined his mistress, hugging her and laying his head against
her chest. She started tracing her fingers across the nape of his neck and down his back. She
had to calm him before anything else.

“Talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling. It’s alright.” She was soft and reassuring.
“You don’t owe me anything. I’m just being dumb and jealous. I just thought the erotic
dominance tournaments were… You know… Our thing.” Valdran frowned. “It’s one of the
few times I get to hear your praise. It made me feel special and when you picked
Kalamash…” He trailed off.

“You didn’t feel special anymore?” She asked. Valdran silently nodded. “Oh, Valdran! It
wasn’t my intention to make you feel that way. The only reason I didn’t pick you is because
you’d be obliterated by Selessk’s thrall instantly!” She knew how he lusted after the creed-
master.

Valdran felt embarrassed to hear her say that. “You’re still my favorite!” He buried his face
against her chest, taking in her vanilla scent. She ran her fingers through his short black hair.

“I’m not shaming you for having such fantasies… You know, I didn’t pick Oceana either
because she just can’t get her head in the game.” She revealed to him.

“I know. You’re just doing what you have to do to win. It just kind of hurt that I had to find
out from Elzaphir. I would have rather heard it from you instead of getting all excited and
making myself look silly…” He said. He felt comfortable enough to tell her anything when
she held him like this.

“You’re not foolish or silly looking. Perhaps funny and mischievous, but no one thinks you’re
a fool. I was so caught up in registration and training that I simply didn’t get around to it.”
She had truthfully forgotten to tell him. “Although, I suppose I have been neglecting you a
little…” She conceded. “I could try to make it up to you.” She rolled him onto his back.

“Mmn? How do you plan to do that?” Valdran asked. She began taking off her robes, sliding
them off of her body in a tantalizing manner.

“Oh.” He blushed. “Hell yeah! You know me so well!” He grinned. Vizaness giggled.

“It’s not hard when I can read your thoughts.” She told him.

She straddled the hobgoblin, lifting his robes up with one tentacle. Another tentacle grabs his
hand and pulls it to her thigh. He invited her into his mind as she began rubbing her slick and
smooth crotch against his hardening cock. She wondered if she could experiment while she
was on top of Valdran. She positioned herself to rub her ass against his erect shaft. “I think I
have an idea. Want to try something new?” She asked.

“Your experiments are always fun, Mistress. I’d be right happy to!” He eagerly told her. She
used a tentacle to guide him into her cloaca as she slowly brought him inside of her. She
purred as she started adjusting to him filling her up.
“Oh fuck! Mistress, you feel amazing!” Valdran groaned. He bucked his hips pushing himself
all the way inside. Vizaness let out a gurgled moan of surprise. She had to admit it was a
pleasant surprise. She leaned over putting her clawed hands on his chest. Her tentacles
wrapped around his arms, trailed over his chest and rubbed his cheek.

“I didn’t tell you to move, did I?” She asked in a teasing manner. Valdran gave her a smirk.

“You gave me an invitation. Was I a bit too eager to accept it?” He answered.

She began moving by herself, starting slowly. Her cheeks burned pale. “H-haah..! I can
appreciate… Your enthusiasm!” She admitted. She took him balls deep and started to bounce
up and down on his shaft. Her moans became more frequent as her mind gradually emptied
with Valdran. “You’re perfect for this!” She whimpered in her gooey voice. It was one of the
few things she couldn’t do with Kalamash but Valdran was just as good a fit as Presmer was.
She couldn’t believe she hadn’t done this sooner!

How on Toril did thralls manage to do this?? She’d never exerted this much physical effort
before. She was willing to bear it as long as she could. She reasoned that the exercise was
good training! “Are you holding up, Mistress?” Valdran asked. Vizaness slowed her pace to
catch her breath.

“Never better…” She panted. It did feel really good, even if she was working hard for it.

“Want me to take over?” The hobgoblin offered, pulling off his clothes.

Vizaness’ tentacles poked together, shy to admit she was getting tired after only mere
minutes. Although she had taken an active role with thralls, she wasn’t used to being this
active. “Sure. Why not?” She conceded. She slid off of him and laid down beside him,
getting herself comfortable.

“Just relax. I’ll take good care of you!” Valdran encouraged. Vizaness spread her legs for
him, using one of her pillows for leverage. Valdran slowly and sensually teased her, pressing
the tip of his cock into her cloaca.

“Hmmnngh… Don’t tease meee!” She mentally whined. She wrapped her legs around him to
urge him deeper.

He slowly pushed his shaft deep inside her, making her gasp softly. “I want to enjoy you as
long as I can. Your company is a rare treat for me.” Valdran explained. He wanted to take his
time with her. She had no idea he craved her that much. It was actually kind of sweet. “But if
you insist…” He pinned her down, much to her surprise. He was much more forward than
Presmer. He was far more confident as he began thrusting into her at the rougher pace she
was mentally begging for. She made eye contact with him. Her eyes squinted as if smiling at
him.

“You feel so good…” Valdran groaned. Vizaness wrapped a tentacle tightly around his arm.
She placed a hand on his shoulder as he made love to her.

“You feel good too!” She gurgled. “Y-yes! Yes! Oh, yes!” She started to giggle as he had his
way with her. “So good!” She was getting absolutely lost in his movements. She floated ever
so slightly, unable to contain herself. It was no wonder that Valdran was able to win
dominance tournaments!

Valdran slowed himself to keep himself from cumming. He wasn’t finished with her yet. He
remained deep inside her. Vizaness tried to get her bearings as she gently ran her fingers
through his hair. Valdran leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers. Vizanes found
herself surprised by this gesture, but leaned into it. She held him close, feeling the warmth
from him. She never realized just how much love she was surrounded by. How many
connections had she pushed away because she was raised to believe she shouldn’t have them?
That sharing these experiences with her thralls made her no better than those that had sex
with livestock? Valdran wasn’t a pig, even if he acted like one sometimes.

She wrapped her tentacles around him as he slowly pushed himself deep inside her. He
kisses her forehead. To her, he was more than mere breeding stock. He was joyful, he was
funny, he was quite a charmer. It was no wonder he had a handful of women in the female
menagerie fighting over him! He belonged to Vizaness and she got to have him all to herself
whenever she pleased.

Valdran pulled back, grabbing her thighs and roughly thrusting into her once more. Her back
arched, embracing the feeling of his pleasure combined with the sensation of him using her
before he slowed down once more. “You fucking tease! Come on!” Vizaness laughed. “If you
keep teasing me, I might reconsider that chastity belt…” She playfully threatened.

“My mistress is so cruel…” He sarcastically groaned.

Valdran once again picked up the pace, doing his best to maintain it. “Oh, yes! Right there!
Don’t stop! Don’t you even think about stopping!” She commanded him desperately. Despite
her cute gooey voice, it was a command he obeyed without question. She knew he was
getting close and yet she couldn’t bring herself to make him pull out of her. She did tell him
not to stop, after all. It wouldn’t be right to confuse the poor thrall.
She felt herself spasm on his cock as he squirted his warm and thick load inside of her. “Oh
God-Brain!” She cried out. She liked how that felt a lot more than she wanted to admit. She
couldn’t be mad at the mess he made. It’s not as if he knew any better. It wasn’t in his
training to pull out. That didn’t stop her from complaining. “You’re going to be dripping out
of me for hours. What a mess!” She laid there catching her breath. She couldn’t help but
laugh softly after her complaint.

“So a little bit of me will be with you, even after you take me back to the menagerie.” He
leaned in, kissing her softly once more and pressed his forehead against hers.

“Dammit, that was smooth, Valdran.” She reluctantly complimented him. “Did it help you
feel better?” She asked. He pulled out of her and laid beside her.

“It did… Would you… Keep me in mind for the next erotic dominance tournament? You
don’t have to pick me, I just-” He was cut off by her pressing a tentacle to his lips.

“Valdran, the reason I picked you six years in a row is because of our synergy. Of course I’ll
think of you. How can I forget after experiencing your techniques first hand, hm?” She
hugged him.

“Thank you…” He smiled at her.

“I’m thinking of doing this more often.” Vizaness revealed. “We sure made a mess of
Kalamash’s blanket…” She observed. “Oh, well. I’ll just get Oceana to wash it. Maybe we
can cuddle for just a little longer…?”

“As long as you want to, Mistress.” Valdran closed his eyes and smiled as he snuggled with
her among the soft bedding and pillows.
 Into the Dungeon
Chapter Summary

You, Addanil and friends begin exploring the tunnels under Selpt.

“Alright. We need one of you up front and one of you to cover the rear…” Addanil said.

“I’d cover that rear…” Tavoril thought.

“Tavoril, you go up front. You seem like a reliable scout.” Addanil said.

“Don’t worry! I’ll watch your backs!” Bilban said with enthusiasm. Bilban was alright. At
the very least, he got along well with his Songbird. In order to get into that passageway,
everyone except Bilban had to crouch and crawl through.

“I have a strange request but, can I keep calling you Songbird?” Addanil asked you as he
crawled into the tunnel. You found yourself smiling at his question.

“Of course. It’s a very nice nickname.” You mentally replied to him as you ducked into the
tunnel after him. Addanil offered you his hand, picking you up and Bilban waltzed right in.

“Oh, this is definitely a royal passageway.” Bilban remarked as he looked at the bricks, which
barely had any cracks, however it didn’t take long for the tunnels to look more naturally
hewn the further they went in. The stone paths on the ground were worn down by the passage
of time, having nearly been reclaimed by the earth. You all came to a fork in the tunnel.
Tavoril scouted to the right a little. “The path continues to the left but there’s a small cave this
way. I think I see something sparkling in there.” Tavoril cautiously moved in.

“It’s clear, guys! Looks like some kind of rock deposits?” Tavoril guessed. Addanil came
closer to inspect the minerals. “There’s definitely some flint in here, and I spy some rock
crystal in there. Clear quartz. These deposits are small, but they certainly aren’t worthless.”
Addanil inspected it. You smiled, proud of Addanil’s knowledge of gems and minerals.

“Ames knows a fair bit about gems, since it’s the merchandise we deal in most. If he can get
the tools, he can even cut anything we get a hold of.” You informed them.
“A guild artisan, are you?” Bilban asked.

“Yes. From Amn.” Addanil responded.

“Makes sense. They export a lot of gems. Which city?” Bilban asked. Addanil busily studied
the gemstones to stall answering the question.

“Curses! Which city am I from!? I don’t know anything about Amnian cities!” He mentally
begged you.

“He’s from… Keczulla! A gem mining town!” You recalled.

“That makes a lot of sense!” Bilban said.

“No wonder you only had gemstones on hand when you got here.” Tavoril added. Addanil
“Ames Brightglade” felt relief wash over him when they bought your lie.

“Looks like someone’s been chipping away at the stone here for the flint...” He pointed out
where it looked like the stone had been cleaved. “We’re definitely not alone here, so keep
your eyes peeled…” Addanil warned them. They exited the cavern and continued on the
beaten path. The path soon was lit by a couple of small patches of glowcap that glowed with
a cold radiance.

“Glowcap!” Bilban whispered with excitement. “I haven’t seen these since I was a kid.
They’re delicious!” He said, picking a sample and chewing into it. “They’re still just as
good.”

“Hey! That could be money you’re eating! The trade of them is lucrative back in my
homeland!” Addanil scolded as Bilban was offering you a piece.

“Oh, Ames. You would take anything not nailed down if you could sell it for a copper.” You
smirked, trying a sample. You’d never eaten them before. “Mmm! This is good! I wonder
how it would taste if we roasted it…” You ponder.

“Alright, you can have a little snack. Just don’t eat all of it.” He said. “I’m surprised they’re
growing all the way up here. The soil here must be really nutrient dense…” He privately told
you. Bilban noticed a small hole behind one of the patches of glowcap, and crawled in.

“Just some more mushrooms in here.” Bilban noted before crawling back out. “We could
have ‘em for dinner on the way out!”

They came to a tunnel that opened up into a chasm. There was another tunnel on the other
side, and tunnels down below. On the other side was a rocky outcropping and tangled in
vines below and across from them was a rust monster. “Assassin vine.” Tavoril pointed out
the carnivorous plant.

“Good eye, Tavoril.” You whispered to him. It’s stems were thin and it had gray leaves with
silver veins. “It’s actually kind of pretty, isn’t it?”

“That explains why the mushrooms were growing so well up here. Assassin Vines in the
Underdark have symbiotic relationships to fungi.” Addanil told you.

The plant was preoccupied with its meal and they withdrew to discuss what to do. “If we
want to get through that tunnel on the other side, it might pose a problem.” Bilban said. “We
can outrun it, but we can’t out climb it. Looks like that drop is about 20 feet down.”

“And we can’t just burn it or freeze it. They’re pretty hardy plants.” Tavoril muttered.

Addanil noted the broken rope ladders. This was the way they were supposed to take.

“Well it’s really not that hard…” Addanil said. “We’ll just go over and around.”

“Huh?” Bilban was confused.

“The walls to the right have plenty of hand holds with all the moss and sloped surfaces.
Surely you can climb that while it’s busy eating.” Addanil said. “And if it’s still there on the
way back, we’ll just throw Tavoril at it.” He privately commented to you.

“As for us…” He trusted in your ability to help him lie about his unexplained power. He
swept you off your feet. “Ames…!” You whispered in surprise. You knew what he was
thinking. “Are you sure it’s alright?” You asked.

“It’ll be fine. Just hang on tight.” He levitated across with you. The vine had no idea you
were even near as he retreated into the tunnel across the small chasm.

“What the fuck?? That’s some weird ass magic you’ve got going on…” Tavoril was shocked.

“Are you coming across or are you just going to gawk at me?” Addanil goaded him.

Bilban was far less phased than his friend. “Huh. Well whatever it was, it’s neat and handy!”
Bilban began climbing across. The moss, soft dirt and vegetation provided plenty of hand
holds for the nimble halfling to climb around and the assassin vine ignored the halfling as he
got to the other side. Tavoril made a face of suspicion but he wasn’t going to leave his friend
alone with these strangers. He too climbed across on the path that Bilban took. The assassin
vine briefly reached around to the top of the outcropping as Tavoril touched down, sensing
the vibrations of the half-elf’s feet. Tavoril leapt away and remained completely still,
observing it before the vines slid back down over the outcropping.
“The reason we never mentioned his powers is because of reactions like yours.” You
explained to Tavoril. “He was always psionically sensitive as a boy so when he visited my
home town of Riatavin, he learned how to hone those psionics abilities from the College of
the Eclipse. A lot of people just don’t understand…” You frowned, hugging him. You were
able to sell that lie as if you were selling merchandise and they bought it. Part of it was rooted
in truth. People just wouldn’t understand.

“I can relate to being misunderstood. My parents didn’t like it very much when I left home.”
Bilban tried to be reassuring to them as they walked down the tunnel. The tunnel opened up
to a larger cavernous room. There was a tunnel going north, and off to the left was a
passageway with the same nearly pristine stones as the ones from the entrance. Bilban
stopped Tavoril from moving forward. “I hear voices in there…” You whispered, pointing at
the stone tunnel. Maybe it used to be a rest stop for the fleeing royals? You quietly moved
forward to listen better.

“Have we figured out how we’re going to get rid of that kobold eating plant yet?? We can’t
feed our rust monsters ever since that damn thing moved in!” A fast talking, high pitched and
constricted voice spoke to another. It was almost like yipping. That was definitely the voice
of a kobold.

“Oh goodie. How delicious.” Addanil was already thinking about how he’d preserve a brain
for eating later. You mentally shushed him. The other’s voice was deeper and a bit slower, yet
just as yippy as the last.

“Zavi said she making weed killer with our salt and vinegar. Said big vine won’t know what
hit it!” The other kobold responded.

“Of course it won’t know what hit it! It’s a fucking plant!” The higher pitched voice retorted.
“I just hope she doesn’t try to make us kill it. Now help me go through these books for the
hoard!” The kobold demanded.

“But I can’t read…” The deeper voice pointed out.

“Just dig out anything that’s in one piece! I can read it, numbskull!” The higher pitched voice
scolded.

Peeking into the tunnel, you could see two kobolds. You look at Tavoril and Bilban who were
hiding out behind you. “Two kobolds.” You whispered to them behind you. Tavoril, wanting
to impress you, took aim at one of the kobolds who was reading. Before Addanil could stop
him, his arrow let loose, striking the kobold in the neck. He fell over dead. Addanil nudged
Tavoril out of his way and moved closer to the surviving kobold, who was panicking.
“Serve my will!” Addanil bent the far simpler mind of this kobold to his whims.

“Ah! Yes! What can I do for you, sir? The name’s Mogs!” The kobold said.

“Please move that corpse out of the way.” Addanil requested. Mogs obeyed, dragging the
other kobold’s corpse to a corner of the room.

Well, Addanil wasn’t going to eat that one. It would surely rot before he could get somewhere
private with it. He had no means of preserving brains without a brain canister. Eating pickled
brains didn’t sound all that appealing, but he knew he would have to make do eventually. The
fact that those damn things were so expensive was ridiculous. Addanil thought it was a
conspiracy theory to restrict their use to only the wealthiest illithids.

Bilban made an expression of discomfort when he realized what “Ames” had done.

“I want information without needlessly slaughtering every living creature in my path. So

unless you have methods of interrogation that don’t require necromancy or torture, this
individual is useless to me dead.” He glared at Tavoril. “I’m sick of that half-elf. I wanted the
smarter one…” Addanil privately tells you. You didn’t like it, but you knew Addanil was
willing to do anything he felt was necessary for your success. At least he was saying please…
Tavoril privately thought it was smart to get information from the kobold, not catching on
that Addanil was maybe a little cross with him.

Addanil noticed a few rusty weapons on weapon racks. A spear, a short sword, and a
claymore. “Well I guess this is what you’ve been feeding the rust monsters with. Where did
you get these weapons?” He asked.

“From deeper in. They had lots of rusty metal stuff! Since the people who made this place
aren’t here anymore, we figured they wouldn’t mind if we took ‘em!” Mogs answered. You
decided to take a look at the books. “Maybe a sage would have some interest in vintage
literature…?” You pondered. “Most of them are damaged junk… The Book of Good
Manners. Hey look, Ames! A book for you!” You laughed.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. I’m sure I can get 10 gold pieces for that.” Addanil rolled his eyes. A
book with a green cover called “Music of the Wilderness” caught your eye. You flipped it
open carefully, your eyes briefly scanning the pages.

“This appears to be a poetry book.” You carefully placed it into your bag. You found one
other intact book. “‘Midnight Pleasure’? Oh, don’t mind if I do…” You muttered, stuffing the
book away. Addanil’s illusory face smiled, shaking his head as you tucked the book away.

The only other thing of note in these chambers was a broken bed.
“How many of you are there?” Addanil asked.

“Well there were 12…” Mogs said.

“Sorry about that. Someone was a bit too fast on their bow…” Addanil apologized.

“Ah, it’s fine! They were mean to me anyway! I don’t miss ‘em.” Mogs said. You squeezed
Addanil’s hand.

“Aww, I’m sorry they were mean to you.” You apologized, offering kind words to Mogs.

“Dammit! You can’t eat this guy! I feel bad now!” You thought.

“Who said anything about eating? This one’s brain is too smooth. No thanks to your stupid
admirer trying to impress you.” He sounded disgruntled. Tavoril ruined a perfectly good and
apparently less sympathetic meal.

You were such a bleeding heart to Addanil. There was always that spark of warmth and
kindness in you, even when you were his thrall. He knew he should be seeing it as a
weakness, but he also knew well that if you weren’t so soft, you probably wouldn’t even
bother loving him. It made him desire to give you the best existence he could, wherever you
wanted it to be. The things they found thus far were already a good start. If he played his
hand right, perhaps he would even build you a house. Of course you’d probably demand
some nonsense like having to pay the workers…

“Ames? Love?” You snapped him out of his train of thought. “There’s nothing else in here.
We should keep moving.” You said.

“Ah, yes. Time to delve deeper, I suppose. We’ve already found a few things of interest.
Perhaps we can find more things to add to Yuncharr’s junk pile.” Addanil jokes. Bilban
chuckled at his comment.

“More often than not, that trash ends up being somebody’s treasure.” Bilban said. “I think it’s
just neat to see what shows up in there.”

“We actually did see something we wanted to purchase in there, but didn’t have the coin or
room for it right now. Painter’s supplies. Songbird can paint. They make beautiful pieces that
really move the viewer. We’d be selling those if we still had them, but tragically, they were
all left at home.” Addanil knew he’d never see those paintings ever again. “All I have is the
memory of them but I will always cherish it.” His comments on your art made you smile.
Yorix loved your art too, but there was something about Addanil’s love of your work that felt
raw and genuine.

“It will be alright. I’ll make new paintings so our lives can once again be filled with beautiful
scenes.” You told him.

“Blech…” Mogs seemed grossed out by this lovey dovey couple.

“That’s it. He’s bait for the next carnivorous monster we see! Maybe we’ll offer him to our
viney friend behind us!” Addanil told you. His face was scowling as the group slowly walked
across a natural bridge littered with the bones of 3 skeletons. Two of them were human sized
and one was ogre sized. Suddenly one of the skeletons animated behind Addanil.

“Look out!” You yelled. Addanil turned to see animated bones wielding a rusty shortsword.
He let out an undignified screech and tried to run deeper into the tunnels, when a skeletal
ogre was blocking his path!

“NOPE NOPE NOPE!” Addanil screamed. Seeing no other way away from this horrifying
situation, he leapt from the bridge and levitated as far as he could. Mogs cowardly jumped
into the water below to get away.

The skeletal ogre lurches towards Tavoril, swinging an old great club at the half elf. The
nimble ranger moved aside as the slow undead missed him by a mile. “Ames, it’s not that
hard! Just bash it with a rock or something!” He aimed for the skeleton. “Scopum di
Venator!” Tavoril cast Hunter’s Mark and let his arrow fly, striking the ogre skeleton. Addanil
panicked. What if that thing hurt his songbird?! What could he do?

Bilban gracefully slid into combat in front of you. “Tav! On your six!” He warned the half-
elf. The halfling attacked the skeleton with an ensnaring strike. “ Oppugno Vinea Captum!”
Magical vines spring up around the skeleton, constricting it. As it raised its rusty sword to
retaliate, the animated bones fell to pieces. You rushed in with your short sword, trying to
prevent Tavoril from being harmed by the other humanoid skeleton behind him. You sliced at
it with the cheap shortsword, hacking into the ribs and knocking a couple of them away. The
skeleton turns around, swinging its shortsword and hitting nothing but air as you gracefully
lean back like you were playing limbo.

Addanil’s keen eyes found a rock on the bank under the earthen bridge. He psionically
shaped the stone into a club. “I’m coming, Songbird! Hang on!” He sounded nervous. The
ogre skeleton struck again at Tavoril. Its club barely missed the half-elf, coming a little too
close for comfort.

“Anytime now, Ames!” Tavoril grimaces. He pierced the ogre skeleton with another skillfully
placed arrow.

Bilban nimbly slid his small form past the skeleton and slapped Tavoril on the calf. “Malus
Protectio!” He cast Protection from Evil in an effort to make it harder for the large skeleton to
harm his ally.

“Good thinking, Bilban!” You encouraged him. You attempt to swing for the neck of the
skeleton in front of you. You barely connect, but the cheap iron blade cracks into its bones.
The skeleton’s head was lopped off and it rolled down the bridge and into the water. Without
its head, the rest of the bones collapsed.

Addanil levitated to bring himself onto the bridge. He noticed that the only foe left was that
ogre skeleton. He chucked his stone club at it with the strength that the terrified illithid in
human disguise could muster. His cowardly attack managed to connect with the skeleton,
bashing a hole into its skull. “Aah! Aaaah!” He ran to cower behind you. The ogre skeleton
once again barely misses Tavoril.

“Wow! So courageous…” Tavoril said sarcastically. He draws his shortsword and runs up the
length of its great club. He lands a clean blow, cleaving into it.

Bilban follows it up with a shot to the skull, sticking an arrow into the eye socket! “Chin up,
Ames! We’ve got this!” Bilban cheered.

“In this place, a shroud that staggers, come forth now my cloud of daggers!” You sang. A
Cloud of Daggers was summoned from your song, slicing apart the skeleton and the large bag
of bones fell apart!

“Nice moves!” Tavoril complimented. “And thanks for keeping me from getting bonked,
Bilban.”

“Is it gone…?” Addanil asked nervously.

“Yes, it’s gone… We’re alright.” You told him, smiling sympathetically. Facing undead was a
terrifying ordeal for any illithid. He handled that about as well as he could. Mogs climbed
back up to join your party. He had been hiding under the bridge. Addanil yanked the kobold
up by his leather vest.

“Why didn’t you warn us about the skeletons, you nitwit!?” He yelled.
“They never moved before! I didn’t know they’d get up!” Mogs whined.

“Calm down! Nobody got hurt!” You put your hand on his arms, urging him to put the kobold
down. Addanil took a deep breath and slowly put the kobold down.

“Are there any other bones lying around that I should know about??” Addanil scowled. “I
hate undead!” He whimpered.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been much further than the castle halls.” Mogs answered. Did this
kobold know anything!? How did adventurers manage to pull this crap off!? Tavoril and
Bilban retrieved some of their arrows. Addanil could sense that everyone else’s spirits were
high. You smiled, holding your hand out to him. He moved over to the club he created and
picked it up and tried to steel his nerves.

“I’m fine… I’m fine. I just need a moment.” Addanil said, making it to the other side of the
bridge. Soon they would delve deeper…
 An Audience with a Noble
Chapter Summary

Vebeva invites Caramyn over to her domicile to show off some restraints.

It had been some time since Vebeva had seen Caramyn in person ever since their meeting in
the noble's section of The Breeding Pen. They'd been talking about trying out different
restraints and other devices made to try out on the ulitharid's thralls, but they'd been far too
busy to get around to it. Until now, that is. Caramyn's friendship with Vebeva was a torture all
its own for Dallimeze. Her occasional teasing left his mood swinging between rage,
nervousness and arousal when his wife joined in.

Today, Caramyn insisted that they had to have an audience with Vebeva. Surely, he wouldn't
offend the ulitharid by refusing an invitation to her domicile. Vebeva made sure he would
show up. After all, he didn't want to disappoint his wife, did he?

Dallimeze was putting on his best robes. He had to look presentable. “Should I go with the
red sash or the blue one…?” Dallimeze asked Caramyn.

“Hmm… Blue.” She answered. He knew going to Vebeva's home wouldn't be a normal social
gathering when he saw Caramyn packing various restraints. He saw her holding his favorite
cuffs.

“Oh, uh… Can we leave those here? Those are mine.” He requested.

“I know they are. I'm packing them just in case.” The sadistic gnome smirked. Dallimeze's
cheeks flushed pale.

“Oh gee… Oh…” He said.

“Dalli? Smoke or fire?” Caramyn asked.

“Smoke? I think? The idea of doing that in front of another mind flayer, let alone an
ulitharid… It's scary but also arousing. I'm scared and aroused. Scaroused?” Dallimeze tried
to articulate his thoughts.
“She's well aware how pathetic you are.” Caramyn giggled. “You know one of my biggest
fantasies is humiliating you in front of another mind flayer and Vebeva is the safest way to
fulfill that. However, if it pushes your boundaries too far, you can always use your safe words
or we can purely stick to bullying Natiri.” Even if she enjoyed inflicting pain on her husband,
she always wanted that pain to be his choice to experience.

“It was stimulating when she stepped on my tentacle, but when you slapped me for it, I've
been thinking about it a lot…” Dallimeze confessed. “I'll go in with an open mind. We'll see
what happens. It'd be neat to see if she likes anything else we have.” He started to sound a bit
excited.

“Oh, she definitely hasn't been using her prior purchases for their intended purpose.” She
chuckled.

“But we're not selling those cuffs.” He reminded her.

“Of course not.” She giggled. “I’ve got another surprise I think you’ll like…” She teased. She
revealed that under her dress, she was wearing that set of leather underwear he liked so much.

“You were correct…” Dallimeze conceded. “Are you ready to go?” He asked. She had
successfully convinced him.

“Mhm!” Caramyn affirmed with a smile. Dallimeze took a deep breath, mentally putting
himself in the headspace of his outside persona. It was unlikely to last long in Vebeva's
domain, but Caramyn was right. She was more right than she knew. Caramyn packed up her
bag of “wares” to show off and followed him to her domicile.

Before Dallimeze could even knock on the door to her domicile, Whim opened the door,
warmly welcoming them. “Welcome to Vebeva's residence! May I take your cloak?” Whim
retained a professional demeanor. Dallimeze was surprised that he didn't have to request entry
this time. He handed his cloak to Whim to be hung up.

“Greetings Caramyn and peon!” Vebeva greeted them from her chair.

“A pleasure to see you again, Vebeva!” Caramyn curtsied.

“Natiri, our guests are here.” Vebeva called for her tiefling thrall. Natiri came out of her
room wearing a revealing outfit of a small cloth top and underwear made to be easily torn or
cut away. She knew her mistress might be buying some new “toys” to use on her. She was
willing to let Caramyn demonstrate them on her. After all, if she had the brass balls to
dominate an illithid, she must have been skillful enough to know what she was doing with
her.

“Natiri, fetch our guests some water.” Vebeva commanded her. The tiefling began pouring
some fresh and cool water for them. She invited Caramyn to sit at the table, some of Whim’s
books were used so she could see over the table. Dallimeze lifted her into her seat. Vebeva
joined her on the other side of the table. Dallimeze went to sit in the third chair.

“Nope! That’s Natiri’s chair. Can’t you see her name on it?? Sit on the floor!” Caramyn
scolded. Dallimeze’s face flushed pale at her scolding. He hesitated.

“She’s right, peon. That chair is reserved.” Vebeva’s tentacles curled smugly. Dallimeze
slowly brings himself to the floor, sitting cross legged.

“Oh ho ho ho ho!” Vebeva laughs at him.

“So! Anyway, to kick things off, we have some interesting restraints!” Caramyn said.
Dallimeze handed the pack of restraints off to Caramyn who plopped them on the table. She
began taking them out and putting them on the table. “This one’s from Shou Lung, and this
one’s not actually for sale. I just wanted to show it off.” She began explaining.

“Let me guess. It’s your pathetic husband’s favorite?” Vebeva asked.

“That would be correct.” Caramyn smirked smugly.

“What about that one?” Vebeva pointed to what looked like a mass of long leather straps.

“Ooh, now that one is interesting. It’s meant to restrain someone to a moss mattress.
Unfortunately, Dalli is too much of an escape artist for it.” She said. Dallimeze occasionally
loved being difficult to restrain. It was like an experiment to find efficient ways to hold
someone in place. Natiri brought over their water.

“Natiri. Kneel.” Vebeva commanded. She got on her knees beside Dallimeze. Caramyn
picked up a metal restraint that kept the wrists close together. Natiri held her wrists together
for her and the gnome began closing the restraint. It was a bit small, the locking mechanism
could easily catch her skin.

“Oops! Did I pinch you?” She asked, checking in with Natiri.

“I’m fine, m’am.” Natiri answers. She decides to test how restrictive it is, to find she was
unable to get out of it. Vebeva takes the key and unlocks it.
“I can see where it pinched her. That one’s no good…” Vebeva commented.

Dallimeze begins sneakily trying to read Natiri’s mind. “Mind if I take a peek…?” He asked
her.

“Damn, you’re pathetic. Go ahead.” Natiri mentally replied. Vebeva decided to give the
Shou restraints a try. They were iron leg shackles with three segmented metal bars between
the round closures.

“These are quite articulated. They can make movement mildly painful to prevent the escape
of prisoners. As you can see, it has a unique key with teeth arranged in an x shape so you
can’t pick the locking mechanism so easily. As a safety feature, you can’t close them without
first inserting the key. If you somehow manage to lose the key after that, the only ways to get
it off harmlessly would be a chime of opening or make someone cast the Knock spell.”
Caramyn explained as she closed the shackles around her legs.

“How fascinating. I’m guessing your husband likes this novelty piece quite a bit.” Vebeva
guessed keenly. She made Natiri get up and try to walk in them. She couldn’t succeed in
much more than hobbling. Dallimeze tried to keep his tentacles from writhing as he felt the
locking mechanisms pressing against Natiri’s ankles.

“We actually haven’t gotten around to trying that one.” Caramyn confessed.

“No better time than the present, hm?” Vebeva teased. Dallimeze made a strange gurgled
squeak at her suggestion. His entire face turned pale and he pointed to himself as if to say
“me??”.

Whim was occasionally peeking over at what they were doing. “If I didn’t know better, he’s
probably already experiencing it vicariously…” Whim pointed out. Vebeva’s eyes narrowed
as she stared at Dallimeze intently.

“Oh, God-Brain. You’re pathetic.” Vebeva insults him.

“Well you see- I- Uh…” Dallimeze couldn’t come up with an excuse. Caramyn smugly
smiled and smacked Natiri on the ass. Natiri and Dallimeze both let out a gasp, confirming
Whim’s suspicions.

“I guess he couldn't resist when I brought out those shackles.” Caramyn said. “Should we
make this a double date?” The gnome smirked.

“An interesting proposition.” Vebeva said. The ulitharid crossed her legs in her seat. “I’ve
got plenty of silk rope. I’ve gained an appreciation for the drow art of tying knots.” Vebeva
said.

“Ooh. Can’t say we’ve tried that before. We use metal and leather.” Caramyn admitted.

“Oh Caramyn, the elegance of silk can make even the most pathetic person look more
dignified!” Vebeva says.

“The bar is rather low, isn’t it?” Caramyn giggled. Dallimeze whined at his wife’s words.

“I suppose you’re right.” Vebeva replied. “Join us with your pathetic husband. Natiri.
Come.” She commanded, leading the tiefling into the thralls’ room.

“Dalli… I did bring something for you.” Caramyn teased. She pulled a collar out which she
had been hiding. Vebeva laughed, clearly amused.

“You brought that!?” His tentacles wiggled quickly. How did she smuggle that out!? His
entire face flushed pale.

“You have to put it on if you want to play.” Caramyn said. Dallimeze whined as he knelt next
to his wife, moving his tentacles. “Oh, you want me to put it on?” She asked. He nodded
slowly and she clasped it around his neck. “Now the fun part can begin.” The sadistic gnome
smirked. She grasped one of his tentacles tightly. He whimpered as he followed Caramyn.

In the room, the sturdy zurkhwood beam from which Natiri’s rations were hung had been
cleared off. Vebeva would occasionally repurpose it to tie Natiri up. Vebeva threaded a rope
through 3 metal rings used to hang up rations. “Do you know how to tie knots?” Vebeva
asked Caramyn.

“I sure do! Oh, but I didn’t bring my step stool… Although I’d need a ladder for this job.”
She replied.

“Whim, I need your assistance.” Vebeva requested. Whim immediately appeared without
hesitation.

“How may I assist you, mistress?” Whim asked, eager to serve.

“Please hold Caramyn up so she can restrain the pathetic creature.” She commanded. Whim
carefully brought her into his arms, positioning her so that she could put cuffs on his wrists
and securely tie them to the rope hanging from the ceiling’s beam. Vebeva tied Natiri up on
the other end. To further restrain them, Vebeva and Caramyn tied the two of them together
with a chain connecting their collars and a chain around each of their waists.
The two of them couldn’t move more than two and a half feet from each other.

“When compared side by side, your thrall is actually a couple inches taller than Dalli!”
Caramyn pointed out.

“Damn, Natiri could be using him as a stool!” Vebeva joked. “Oh, now there’s an idea for
later…” She said. Whim brought in floggers, canes, candles and metal wands stuck into a
bowl of ice. All of the tools they would need or want were there.

Both of them grabbed rattan canes. “Did you know I actually used to be a torturer?” Caramyn
told Vebeva.

“You don’t say! No wonder he likes you so much.” The ulitharid sounded pleasantly
surprised.

“Of course! She’s an important Abysmal Creed asset! … They uh, just don’t know it!”
Dallimeze sung his wife’s praises.

“You have to take credit for her work? How abysmal.” Vebeva made a pun. Natiri groaned at
her joke and received a strike to her buttocks from Vebeva for it, making her yelp.

“I thought it was funny.” Dallimeze said.

“You don’t have any lips, so stop kissing ass!” Caramyn giggled. She began striking
Dallimeze with the cane in her hand. Dallimeze cried out and squirmed against his bonds.

“Hey! Stop pulling on me!” Natiri shouted, hanging from the rope and lifting both of her feet
to kick him.

“Ack!” Dallimeze gurgled from the kick.

“Ah, I’m sure he enjoys having his ass kicked by Natiri, but we should avoid leaving visible
bruises.” Caramyn reminded Vebeva. “You'll have to learn to stay still, Dalli!” She said.
Dallimeze whimpered and shivered.

“Sorry! You know I'm squirmy!” Dallimeze said.

“Pathetic. My thrall can stay still.” Vebeva insults him as she whips Natiri with a cane.
Natiri's tail wags, lifted eagerly for Vebeva to strike her buttocks. Natiri moans from her
mistress whipping her.
“Oh, yes! Thank you, mistress!” Natiri moaned.

“And so well trained too.” Vebeva complimented.

“I'm still working on Dalli.” Caramyn joked with a smile on her face. She was an expert at
emptying his mind. “And you were very naughty reading Natiri's mind without my
permission…” Her voice gets darker as she grabs a flogger and lays into him with it.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!! Aaagh! Your handmade work is too good!!” he gurgled. She stopped
to give him a moment. “I couldn't help but appreciate the shackles you made, even on
someone else!” He said.

“Aww… How sweet…” She whipped him once more, making him moan.

“You made some of these?” Vebeva asked.

“Yep! When I lived topside, I had access to a forge. I made all my own cuffs and shackles.”
Caramyn revealed proudly. “I got into the whole candle making hobby when I moved in with
Dalli.” She explained. Vebeva was beginning to wonder if this pathetic peon had really
enthralled her or if she felt so bad for him, she willingly came with him down here.

“How fascinating!” Vebeva remarked. “How’d a peon like you get someone like her?” She
asked, releasing the two of them from the rope holding them to the ceiling.

To spice things up, Caramyn adjusted the shackles on Natiri’s ankles, unlocking them and
shackling the two of them together as if they were in a three legged race. “Oh ho ho! How
entertaining.” Vebeva remarked. She used her telekinesis to tug them towards Natiri’s bed.
Natiri and Dallimeze both made a noise of surprise but managed to move together, stumbling
a little. They were both brought onto the moss bed, bending over next to each other.

“Hmm. We've played with hot. Why don't we try cold this time?” Caramyn suggested. She
pulled the metal rod out of the bowl of ice. Caramyn climbed up on the bed and touched it to
his cloaca to test it out.

“Oh, yes yes yes! Please!” Dallimeze begged for it in a gooey voice.

“Please, what? You'll have to beg better than that!”Caramyn taunted.

“P-please fuck me! Please!” He begged.

“Ugh. You're such a weirdo…” Vebeva shook her head.

“Yes, but he's my weirdo.” Caramyn said, pushing the ice cold wand into his cloaca.
Dallimeze moaned unintelligibly, clearly in bliss.

“Ugh! He's getting slime all over my bed!” Natiri complained. She reached over and tightly
squeezed his tentacle.

“Yes! More!” He cried out. Natiri had a damn good grip. Caramyn giggled.

“You shouldn't be surprised. He loves pain.” Caramyn told her.

“Oh, stop whining. Whim will help you clean it up.” Vebeva began rubbing the tiefling's
pussy with a tentacle. “Speaking of… Whim are you enjoying the show?” She asked. Whim
thought he was being sneaky with his eavesdropping and he blushed when he realized he
wasn't. “Yes, mistress. Would you like me to return to work?” He asked, maintaining a
professional tone.

“You’re always welcome to join us, Whim.” Vebeva’s tentacles curled. Whim took off his
clothes, neatly setting them on his own bed.

He got into the bed, positioning himself behind Natiri and stroking his cock. Vebeva wrapped
her arms and tentacles around him from behind. “That’s my good boy…” She praised. Whim
smiled from her attention. As the human butler entered the tiefling, one of her tentacles
gathered Natiri’s hair into a ponytail and pulled on her hair, lifting her head up. Vebeva
moaned softly as she linked to the sensations of her favored thrall. Vebeva’s praise only
encourages him further. He thrusts roughly into the tiefling’s pussy, pleasuring himself for his
mistress.

Caramyn slowly pulled the cold metal rod out of Dallimeze, leaving him a panting mess. She
unfortunately couldn’t afford to mess her clothing up while she was outside of her domicile,
so she took off her little dark dress. She gets on the bed, moving in front of Dallimeze. “Oh,
what a mess! I’m definitely making you clean this up.” She teased. She took one of his
tentacles and bit into it, leaving indents on the flesh. The excessively aroused illithid needed
relief right now! His tentacles wrapped around the gnome with the clingy neediness of a
puppy.

“You look like you’re practically worshiping her.” Vebeva teased.

“You put your tentacles all over your butler too…” Dallimeze pointed out.

“Why shouldn’t I? I own one of the finest thralls in Oryndoll so he’s technically in a higher
position than you.” Vebeva said smugly.

“A-ah! I cherish every touch, Mistress…” He groaned softly.

“I know you do….” She pressed a tentacle to his lips. She began tuning out the world around
her, focusing more deeply on Whim’s mind. Caramyn was fine with that. She was busy
feeding into Dallimeze’s desperate thoughts. They pulled each other deeper into one
another’s consciousness. Vebeva was too busy with Whim to notice or care. Caramyn closed
her eyes, and she found herself embraced by Dallimeze in a black void.

Suddenly the void was lit up with wispy strings of pulsing yellow light. The trust Dallimeze
had in Caramyn enveloped her like an invisible blanket. Neither of them had any idea what
this was, but they wholeheartedly dove into the unknown together. They felt their desires
intertwine. Yellow wisps braided together, becoming barbed and sharp before tying around
their wrists. It was just like the wedding in Caramyn’s mind with the binding of pain ritual.
They were bound together in mind and body.

“Le thiramin nehel.” One unanimous love through pain and pleasure. One bond. One
thought.

They eagerly consummated their love once more, bonding deeply. They felt their bodies
growing warmer with every movement. The yellow glow grew brighter around them as they
grew closer. It was practically blinding when they climaxed together loudly. Vebeva and
Whim had followed soon after as Caramyn laid there catching her breath, but it didn’t take
long for her to get up and free Dallimeze from his shackles. He flopped onto his side,
completely stunned. “Wow… That was… Amazing…” Dallimeze couldn’t even focus on
speaking telepathically. He tiredly wrapped a tentacle around his wife, unable to even move
for nearly two minutes.

“You’re still cleaning up your mess, peon.” Vebeva pointed out. Caramyn kissed his forehead
and wiped away the excess slime. Whim got cool water for everyone. Caramyn was given
grapes and for Natiri he brought her bone marrow he had prepared earlier in the day.
“Thoughtful as always, Whim.” Vebeva complimented. “Caramyn, I think I’d like to
purchase the cuffs and the bed restraint from you.”
It was a good and cheap deal. Caramyn sold them both to her for only a mindgate. She
sincerely thanked Vebeva for hosting them and would love to do it again some day.
Dallimeze didn’t think he could ask Vebeva about what he experienced with Caramyn.
Something about it felt deeply personal. Something to keep close to him like his embroidery
or the refusal to join his elder brain if Caramyn couldn’t be part of it with him.

Whatever that was, it was the closest he felt to actually marrying her. Although he maintained
a stoic posture all the way home, he was extremely pleased. He would happily come home to
his wife and soon to be child, and enjoy the taste of stew every single day.
 Move-In Day
Chapter Summary

Trezzir moves into his dormitory!

Trezzir was reluctant to get up from his bed and release the hold of his tentacle from
Welvyr’s arm. “Are you nervous?” Welvyr asked.

“No. Of course not.” Trezzir lied. He didn’t want Welvyr to worry about him. He was a
mature illithid. He could handle himself, he hoped. The 33 year old illithid had known
Welvyr since he was 20. It would certainly be different without him by his side at all times.

“I’m nervous.” Welvyr quietly admitted. “After my banishment from Sorcere, I feel
vulnerable entering arcane academia once again.” The drow explained.

“There’s nothing wrong with being nervous. This is so new for both of us.” Trezzir reassured
him. The illithid was filled with a mix of nerves and excitement to start this new chapter of
his life. With enough work, time and investment, he could create spell scrolls and sell those
for money and he wouldn’t have to share a single copper with his creed. The truth is, he had
little respect for the dirty old hedonist that was his creed master.

Trezzir knew well that his coin was going towards buying pleasure slaves for Aphrayaozu’s
opulent domicile. He couldn’t imagine owning a thrall that did nothing other than look pretty
while being pampered and spoiled rotten. Trezzir deemed it wasteful. One could point out his
hypocrisy here as well. It was true that he acquired Welvyr as a status symbol but he would
argue that the drow could at least do menial tasks competently enough. His ineptitude as a
masseur did decrease his market value significantly, but nobody else in his colony had to
know that.

Now he just had to adjust to meeting new people to deal with, and adjust to school life.
Welvyr had been through this once before. “Just try new things at your own pace. Take your
time and don’t feel the need to jump into everything all at once.” Welvyr encouraged him.
“Usually students are assigned a strict move in time and day… It’s strange that Mergos seems
so lax. I wouldn’t fall into a false sense of security.” He noted.

“I was thinking the same thing. Perhaps getting students to drop their guard serves the
purpose of rooting out those who are lazy from those who actually want to learn the material.
A sort of sink or swim mentality.” Trezzir speculated.

They began dressing themselves, getting ready to go to their dormitories. “I suppose that
makes sense. Today is my move-in day as well. I shouldn’t keep the master evoker waiting.”
Welvyr said. Both of their schools were in the northern part of the city, about a mile apart
from each other. The dormitories were located above their respective schools in Z’orr’bauth.
Hundreds of bridges extended from the massive pillar, which stretched from floor to ceiling,
all the way to the surface world. Their inn was only about half a mile away from the pillar.

Before they would leave the room to check out and go to their more permanent residences,
Welvyr tenderly embraces Trezzir. The illithid’s cheeks turned pale as he leaned in and
pressed his forehead against Welvyr’s gently. “I’ve been by your side for over a decade. I’ll
never be far from you. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Welvyr said softly with a gentle
smile. The distance between them was merely a 15 to 20 minute walk.

“I would hope not. I feel as though our bond has been getting stronger.” Trezzir admitted.

He felt emotional warmth that he was reluctant to pull away from, but they had to start the
next chapter of their lives whether they liked it or not. Trezzir had made his moss bed, and
now he had to lie in it. Sshamath was quite a cosmopolitan city for an Underdark settlement.
Perhaps the change would be good for Welvyr. He wanted Welvyr to feel adequate and
confident. “I think that you could be happy here…” Trezzir told Welvyr as they began
walking towards Z’orr’bauth.

“I wish for the very same for you.” Welvyr thought, blushing a bit. Talking to him felt easier
than ever before. “I should let you know this now. One of the most important things you need
to do as a new student is make a budget. I know you’re awful at this, so feel free to meet
with me any time and we’ll go over your finances. Preferably before you’ve spent
everything.” He informed Trezzir.

“Excuse me!? And who taught you how to budget??” Trezzir crossed his arms.

“Aphrayaozu.” Welvyr said bluntly.

“Hmph…” Trezzir sounded indignant. Welvyr was, in fact, quite decent at budgeting. He was
adept at accounting for emergencies and miscellaneous expenses.

“I also won’t be able to tidy your room. You’ll have to purchase another slave from the
bazaar or… Do it yourself…” Welvyr said that last part reluctantly.
“Clean?? Ugh. I’ll just pick up a slave… I think we have enough left over… Or maybe not? I
suppose I should give you some of this to pay for your own expenses.” Trezzir said. He
sounded unsure.

“Well it depends on if you want convenience or if you want to save money for your academic
expenses. You’ve seen me do menial tasks before. Surely you’re not wholly incompetent at
it…” He trailed off. “My gods, you don’t know how to clean at all, do you?” He asked in
disbelief.

“Don’t look at me like that! Maybe you should just let me copy your unseen servant spell…”
Trezzir grumbled, feeling embarrassed.

“You know, that’s actually not a bad idea.” Welvyr agreed. They walked together until they
came to the bridges they needed to split up at. “Well… I guess this is where we part ways for
now. I’ll contact you via Sending.” Welvyr smiled, though he sounded a little nervous to be
away from Trezzir.

“You’ll be fine, Welvyr. You’ve already survived so much more than you should have, and
we’ll get through so much more.” Trezzir encouraged his former thrall. There was no sense in
denying it. Welvyr wasn’t his thrall anymore. They were becoming so much more.

“You’re right. See you soon.” He nodded. The two of them went their separate ways. Trezzir
had no difficulty in finding his dormitory. Number 116. Trezzir unlocked the door and let
himself inside.

All was quiet inside. In the main area was a large sofa. It was a wooden boxy looking thing
with red upholstery and matching satin pillows. It was clearly used but serviceable. There
was a rothe hide rug on the floor. It looked like just about everything else had been moved
out. Decorating wasn’t his top priority, but he hated the way that sofa looked. It was hideous!
He wanted to throw that ugly seat into the garbage. Maybe he could turn around and sell it to
buy something new. He’d keep the rug though. Not a single resonance stone to be found. He
knew how to create them and he knew he could buy the materials to create one. It looked like
everything else had been moved out by the last tenant. It was quite bare.

His exploration took him into the study where he saw Mergos! In his dorm!? “Greetings!”
Mergos greeted him.

“AAH!” Trezzir let out a surprised and gurgled scream. “When did you- How!?” He tried to
form a question. Mergos laughed at the startled illithid.
“Oh, Trezzir. I’m just a simulacrum! I’m not the real Mergos.” They waved their hand
dismissively with a mischievous grin.

“Simu-what?” Trezzir had never heard of such a thing.

“Simulacrum. I’m just a copy of Mergos, made of ice, hair and ruby dust. I’m merely here to
act in accordance with my creator’s wishes. By the way, destruction of myself is a 1500 gold
piece fine in order to replace the material components used to make me. You'll find the
school rules, syllabus, and guides for new students on your bed.” The simulacrum Mergos
told him.

“Well thanks for the welcoming committee.” Trezzir said. Wizards could create subservient
copies of themselves? Trezzir thought bossing around something that looked like himself
would look funny.

“Now as for one of the reasons I’m here, I have some paperwork you need to sign now that
you have arrived.” The fake Mergos pointed out the paperwork on the desk. “We have to go
over the room condition report.” He said. Trezzir sat in the chair, hearing a horrible cracking
sound before it fell apart right under him! Quick on his wits, he levitated to catch himself and
keep from tumbling onto the floor with it. “Oh dear. That chair was in worse condition than I
thought. The forms will have to be updated…” The simulacrum pouted. Trezzir shoved the
broken chair out of his way and stood at the desk.

“Is it permissible to beat the last tenant with the chair legs?” Trezzir asked.

“If you can catch them off campus!” The fake Mergos laughed. “Although I will not divulge
their identity to you. They were going to be your roommate, but they had actually moved out
rather quickly. Lucky you! You get the room all to yourself!” He told Trezzir casually. “Aside
from the furnishings the dormitory hasn’t experienced any serious damages. The illusionists
typically have rooms in better condition than say the evocations wizards.” He went over the
inspection notes. Trezzir could imagine that Welvyr’s room probably had more than a few
scorch marks.

“Anyway, the room gets inspected again when you move out. If we find any damages not
indicated on this form, it may result in a fine. Basically you’re promising to pay for any
damages you cause.” The fake Mergos told him in layman’s terms. “At least the last tenant
didn’t steal the mundane quills and ink.” He took them out for Trezzir to sign the document.
Trezzir signed the document with his name, using a tentacle to hold the quill. Although
illithids were ambidextrous, he found it easier to write clearly and neatly with his tentacles.
“I never expected an illithid to have such pretty penmanship.” The simulacrum complimented
him.

“I prefer the term ‘professional’. I find having good hand writing to be a valuable skill when
dealing with non-illithids.” Trezzir chose his words carefully.

“In Calimshan, they consider calligraphy to be a major art form, equal in cultural importance
to sculpture and painting. ” The fake Mergos told him. The truth was, Trezzir did enjoy
calligraphy. His room had hidden journals and scrolls. Writing for no other reason than to be
written. He most loved writing in Deep Speech. Such things were useless so he shamefully
tucked them away under his bed at home.

He occasionally wrote poetry but he was bad at it. He was well aware these poems were unfit
to read. All the more reason to make sure their writing never saw another pair of eyes. “Is
there anything else you require of me?” Trezzir asked.

“Ah, yes. My creator asked me to check that you did your homework. May I see if you were
able to learn the spell he gave you?” Simulacrum Mergos requested. He pulled a trinket box
out of his pocket. It looked like a giant fire beetle. The spots where the glowing glands were
situated were decorated with tiny faceted cinnabar crystals. Trezzir’s discerning eyes could
tell immediately that it couldn’t have been worth more than 25 gold pieces as an art object.

It was still an interesting piece, regardless of its value. “Varia Valorem!” Within a minute,
Trezzir made the color of the cinnabar a more vivid saturation of color, deepening the red hue
to make it look like rubies. The polish on it became impeccable, making it look like it was
worth twice as much.

“I will be pleased to inform my creator that you finished your homework! Your bedroom was
prepared for your arrival so that we could welcome you to our school. Good day!” The fake
Mergos bowed to Trezzir and excused himself.

“Wait, you forgot your trinket box!” Trezzir pointed out.

“Consider it a housewarming gift.” The simulacrum said before leaving the dormitory.
Trezzir opened it out of curiosity. It was empty.

“Well that was anticlimactic…” Trezzir thought to himself. He closed it and went to their
bedroom. “They really went through the trouble of putting a moss mattress in here for me?”
He thought. He couldn’t figure out why the Master of Illusions was going out of his way for a
new student who was a lesser mageling, but he clearly expected something out of him. Did he
really have that much potential?
He gathered the new student materials left on his bed and settled in to read them. The shelves
were bare. The room had no decoration besides the mattress and bedding, but it was in
pristine condition. He would certainly have to do some shopping soon. He then received a
sending spell from Welvyr.

“Did you find your room? How is it? My roommate is a pyromaniac. How fun…” Welvyr
was using his spells just to check on him. Trezzir thought that was sweet. It didn’t sound like
he enjoyed his accommodations very much.

“My room is nice but in need of furnishings. I have no roommate. It's comfortable enough. If
your roommate causes trouble, I’ll help you out.” Trezzir said. He was fully willing to kill for
Welvyr.

That fight with the bone naga when he was only beginning to learn magic changed him. He
received another sending. It was the last one he could cast for the day.

“Aren’t you lucky? I already miss you. I hope to see you soon.” Welvyr said.

“As do I. Best of luck to you. I love you…” Trezzir wondered if saying that last bit was too
much. He shoved his face into his pillow, wrapping his tentacles around it. His cheeks were
pale.

He pushed the shy thoughts away to the best of his ability and read the rules.

1. Duplicating, altering, lending or borrowing residence keys is strictly prohibited.

2. Residence hall rooms may not be used for business purposes of any nature.
3. Students are prohibited from playing sports or rough-housing in the halls as this may
disrupt the living/learning environment.
4. Musical instruments (both real and illusory) may not be played in the residence halls.
Failure to comply will result in a noise violation.
5. Familiars are the only acceptable pets. Students are responsible for any damages, noise,
messes or mayhem caused by their familiars.
6. Neither the School of Illusion and Phantasm nor The Conclave are responsible if your
property is lost, stolen, or damaged in any way.
7. Violence on campus is prohibited with the exception of sanctioned duels.

It all seemed straightforward enough. Trezzir settled his head against the pillow. This was the
most comfortable bed he had been on in over a month. Perhaps having a nap wouldn’t be
such a bad thing. He still had to become acquainted with his neighbors, his instructors and
other staff, but that was a problem for future Trezzir to worry about.
 Oops! We Went to the Wrong City!
Chapter Summary

After spending the morning in the home of his parents, Syllan accidentally teleports his
party to the wrong location.

Raphraxus awoke in his bedroll on the floor. One of his tentacles was held close by Syllan.
He was so happy that it wasn't merely a dream. It was a bright and sunny morning. The birds
sang their songs. They were sounds that Raphraxus wasn’t used to. He sat up from his bedroll
and gently attempted to wake Syllan. “Mmm… Five more minutes…” The half elf groaned.
The air outside of his blankets was cool. He was warm and comfortable.

“You fell asleep with that collar on.” Raphraxus pointed out, leaning against the bed and
looking at Syllan with dreamy eyes.

“I should probably take this thing off.” Syllan mumbled. “Would be bad if someone else
knew what it was, or worse… Found out what you were and saw me wearing this.” He
blushed. He didn’t want anyone to think he wasn’t with Raphraxus of his own free will. He
chose Raphraxus despite the risks.

“You’ll still wear it for me in private, won’t you?” The ulitharid asked, rubbing a tentacle
against Syllan’s cheek. The half elf gently nuzzled himself against the tentacle.

“Of course.” He smirked as he tiredly pulled off the collar from around his neck.

Raphraxus invited himself into Syllan’s bed, and curled up with him so they could rest
together. “The floor is cold and you’re warm.” He said.

“Can’t argue with that logic…” Syllan was too sleepy to argue with him. The aberration took
up more than half of his bed as Raphraxus held Syllan close.

“I can’t believe you wore that to dinner.” Raphraxus quietly snickered.

“You told me they didn’t know what it was!” Syllan hissed.

“Your friends didn’t.” Raphraxus insisted. “I didn’t tell you to keep it on.” The aberration
pointed out. How on Toril did Ardocronth know? That was a rabbit hole he wasn’t going to
delve into with speculation.
“Maybe I’ll get you something more discreet. Something you’ll look just as good in.”
Raphraxus said.

“Maybe a piece of jewelry.” Syllan suggested. He allowed one of Raphrax’s tentacles to wrap
around his arm. He planted some soft sleepy kisses on his tentacles. A buff arm wrapped
around his waist.

“A good idea…” Despite the collar, he loved that Syllan had complete autonomy over
himself. It was a heretical belief but the fact that Syllan chose to keep coming back to him
made him feel more special than any thrall could.

The ulitharid’s tentacles absentmindedly snaked their way under Syllan’s chemise. “Thank
you for choosing me. You filled in parts of me that I didn’t even know were hollow. Your
bravery is… Inspiring.” Raphraxus admitted.

“Oh, Raph… I’m not brave, just foolish.” Syllan quietly laughed.

“Sometimes there’s very little difference.” Raphraxus responded. Syllan brought himself on
top of Raphraxus, leaning in to press his forehead against his. They basked in the warmth
between them. The thin rays of sunlight filtering into the room were no annoyance to
Raphraxus as long as he could focus on Syllan.

Perhaps it was his green dragon heritage but it seemed like Syllan belonged among greenery.
It had become Raphraxus’ favorite color because it reminded him of his scales. He wanted to
surround himself in it just so he could be closer to Syllan. It wasn’t a very common color in
the Underdark, but on the surface he saw it everywhere. “I forgot to mention this to you, but I
actually can’t see very well at all in your surface world light…” Raphraxus said.

“Does it hurt? I can see about getting you some tinted goggles or something. Phoebe can
help!” Syllan sounded concerned for him.

“Don’t worry. I’m not in any pain or discomfort. That is a good idea though.” Raphraxus
comforted him. “My visibility is severely reduced in this lighting.” He explained.

“Oh, gee. I didn’t think about that. I forgot about how much my eyes hurt when I first
escaped the underdark. Sometimes I would still blind myself teleporting back from your
place.” Syllan recounted. “You lived your whole life down there, so I guess adjusting would
be a lot harder. Do I need to be your seeing eye sorcerer?” He teasingly offered.
“I can link to your sense of sight just like any of your other senses.” Raphraxus said. Syllan
could feel him attempting to link to his mind right now to prove a point. He let him in as he
looked down at the ulitharid while straddling him.

“How do you like this view?” Syllan asked.

“I think you’re on your high horse up there.” Raphraxus easily lifted him and pinned him
down, straddling him in kind. Through Syllan’s point of view, he was now looking up at
Raphraxus. The large aberration had him pinned. “I like this view much better.” He said
smugly.

“A-ah… I was just joking a-around…” Syllan whimpered. “I know I could never top you
unless you let me…” He said.

“That’s just the way you like it, isn’t it?” Raphraxus asked, pinning his arms to the bed with
his tentacles. Syllan’s cheeks turned pink. He whimpered and gave a small nod. He squirmed
under Raphraxus, trying pathetically to get up from under him.

“Getting turned on just from me holding you down? You’re insatiable.” Raphraxus could feel
Syllan growing harder, the bulge in the fabric of his chemise prodded against the crotch of
the ulitharid who was wearing only a loincloth.

“I can’t help it! I’m not used to having you to myself so much…” Syllan mentally told him.

“That’s a valid excuse… You still have to use your words to get what you want.” Raphraxus
said, lightly grinding against Syllan to tease him. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please…” He whispered.

“Please what?" Raphraxus goaded him for more.

“Please help me cum…” Syllan whimpered. It was good enough for now.

He took off his loincloth, levitating slightly to slip it off more effortlessly before letting it
drop to the floor. “I think I want to try something new…” Raphraxus teased. “Would you
mind indulging me?” He asked. He sensed Syllan’s curiosity before he could even ask. “I
want to try you inside me.” He told him.

“Oh fuck, Raph… Do what you want with me.” He groaned softly, biting his lip in
anticipation.
“You’re the only one I trust to do this, so I hope you relish the privilege.” He felt himself
getting worked up along with Syllan.

“H-have you done anything like this before?” Syllan asked. He wanted to make sure his
partner felt comfortable and confident.

“I’ve experimented using my own tentacles. It felt a bit strange but it might feel better with
you.” Raphraxus admitted.

He warmed himself up by rubbing Syllan’s cock with one of his tentacles. The powerful
ulitharid had him pinned down to the bed, holding him completely still. The sorcerer trusted
that his partner could figure this out for himself. The half elf relaxed in his grip, panting
softly as he allowed Raphraxus to carry out his experiment. Raphraxus took a moment to
connect more deeply with Syllan before he slowly guided the tip of his cock inside him. The
combined sensation of how Syllan felt with him was strangely pleasant, he couldn’t help but
let out a gurgled moan.

“Are you doing alright up there?” Syllan checked in with him. Raphraxus silently nodded. It
was like their first time all over again. He took a deep breath as he relaxed. Even though
Syllan couldn’t do anything physically due to the aberration restraining him, Raphraxus still
appreciated the care and concern he had for him. Raphraxus found it difficult to put together
a coherent sentence, but he could take his time with Syllan. He never really took a moment to
appreciate just how comfortable he felt with Syllan. He rubbed a tentacle over the scales of
Syllan’s cheek, taking a moment to meditate on the texture of it.

“Feels a bit like our first time, doesn’t it?” Raphraxus’ cheeks were pale. This was new to
them.

“A bit…” Syllan agreed. Raphraxus slowly took Syllan deeper. His breath grew shaky. Syllan
moaned softly as he felt the slimy walls of Raphraxus’ cloaca clenching around his shaft.

“That’s it. Hold still for me… Just like this.” Raphraxus slowly adjusted to the sensation. He
panted, slowly riding Syllan. While he remained clearly in charge, Raphraxus wondered if it
was obvious he was out of his depth.

He used one of his tentacles to cover Syllan’s eyes and stuck another tentacle into his mouth,
thrusting it into the half elf’s mouth. He closes his eyes, focusing entirely on both of their
sensations. “Hrrnnngh… Syl… Syllan…!” Raphraxus growled quietly as he picked up the
pace. The bed’s wooden frame started to creak softly from his movements. Syllan let out soft
muffled moans as he sucked on the tentacle in his mouth. The two of them were completely
in each other’s raw feelings, getting lost in one another. There wasn’t a single thought in their
heads.

At least, there wasn’t until they heard Valora’s voice, calling up to them from downstairs.
“Syllan! Raphraxus! Breakfast is ready!” She called. Raphraxus let out a groan of annoyance,
pulling his tentacle out of Syllan’s mouth so he could answer.

“Dammit!” Raphraxus hissed. “I didn’t account for that…” He had forgotten what it was like
to be constantly bothered by one’s mother, but when he was a younger ulitharid, his mentors
had put a lot of pressure on him. It wasn’t until he was an adult that he had ever gotten
uninterrupted time to himself.

“We’ll be down in a minute, mother!” Syllan called back. Raphraxus could tell neither of
them were going to finish after that. He slowly pulled himself away from Syllan. “Fuck. I’m
so sorry about that.” Syllan covered his face out of embarrassment.

“It’s alright. I know you’ll make it up to me later.” Raphraxus helped him out of bed and
tossed his clothes to him. Raphraxus pulled on his pants. Syllan cleaned himself up before
pulling on a beige brown tunic and gray wool pants. They then joined Syllan’s family and his
party members downstairs.

A breakfast feast was made for everyone, which contained eggs, venison sausage, elven
bread, and they even went out of their way to get bacon for Zarimm. Great Grandfather
Ardocronth was relieved that Syllan wasn’t wearing that damn collar to the breakfast table.
“Thanks for the food, Mr. and Mrs. V!” Zarimm said. Yar’rel chomped down on a piece of
bacon after dipping it into syrup.

“I also appreciate your hospitality.” Raphraxus politely said. Valora smiled at their
compliments.

“You’re welcome. We weren’t entirely sure what you would eat, Raphraxus, so feel free to
help yourself to anything on the table.” Valora told them. Perhaps she felt the subtle need to
clarify just in case…

“What’s that?” Raphraxus pointed out the crispy strips of meat. He’d never seen anything
like it back in Oryndoll.

“They don’t have bacon in the Underdark? It’s crispified strips of pork.” Zarimm asked.

“Not really. No. I’m also certain that ‘crispified’ is not a word but can I try it?” Raphraxus
asked.
“Sure. Go ahead.” Zarimm put a few pieces on Syllan’s plate since he liked it too. Raphraxus
taste linked with Syllan while swiping a piece for himself from the half elf’s plate.
Raphraxus’ tentacles wiggled a bit as they chewed into their pieces at the same time. Syllan
could instantly tell that he liked it, in tune with their subtle body language. He would
sometimes bring surface world snacks for his aberrant lover to try when he would teleport
into his lair.

“It’s good, right?” Syllan asked.

“This is really good!” Raphraxus’ eyes squinted as he shoved the rest of the strip into his
toothy maw. The aberration also made sure to eat some eggs and sausage as well. At least he
could get some protein. The fork looked quite small in his hand as he attempted to look polite
while eating.

“Syllan, doesn’t your boyfriend have any shirts? Isn’t he cold?” Valora asked.

“Just the one his party bought me. It was hard to find clothes in my size and I kind of forgot
to pack some…” Raphraxus sheepishly admitted, poking his tentacles together. Syllan’s
father spoke up.

“Your aunt Kali’s a seamstress! I can give her his measurements. I-if you have them…”
Ordan offered.

“I wrote them down when we were getting clothes for his disguise.” Phoebe finally spoke up.
She wasn’t much of a talker in the morning until she had her tea and breakfast. She got
Yar’rel to hand off the folded parchment with the numbers. Ordan took a look.

“Nine feet tall??” Ordan asked.

“On the dot.” Phoebe replied.

“Oh please. I’m 19 feet tall when I’m not in this elven guise…” Ardocronth rolled his eyes.

“It’s not a measuring contest, Ardy.” Bathilde held his hand at the table.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell your aunt about the whole mind flayer thing if you don’t want me
to.” Ordan assured his son.

“Thanks. I don’t think I’m ready to tell her yet.” Syllan said softly. He was unsure how aunt
Kali would take it, but he loved his aunt. It would hurt quite a bit if she rejected him because
of Raphraxus. The aberration gave his hand a reassuring squeeze with his own. As much as
Yar’rel didn't want to admit it, she could tell that maybe this ghaik really did care about her
friend.

When everyone had their fill, which was a lot for Great Grandfather Ardocronth resulting in
not a crumb left, Raphraxus got dressed in his disguise. Syllan endured many hugs from his
family and just as many goodbyes. “Your mother and I made you guys some root pies for
lunch.” Ordan told him, giving him some lovingly wrapped rations.

“And if you need anything, don’t be afraid to come home. You’re always welcome here. No
matter who you love.” Valora hugged her son, putting on a brave face. “I pray you’ll take
care of my boy, Raphraxus.” She told the aberration.

“Mother…” Syllan whined, embarrassed by her.

“He shall be cherished and protected by me. My word is my bond.” Raphraxus assured her.
“I can name at least five people who would kill me if I didn’t uphold that promise.” He said.

“I have this book from Baldur’s Gate. This should take us to the city as an associated
object.” Phoebe said. She handed the book off to Syllan. Everyone said their goodbyes to
Syllan’s family before the party gathered into the living room to be teleported.

“Instans Eo Secta!” The five of them ended up by the sea on a city street. The air was chilly.
They noticed a sign that said “Nestaur’s Ropes.” hanging from a shop above.

“‘Scuse me, sir!” Zarimm called out to a stranger, a human man passing by. “Is this Baldur’s
Gate?” He asked them.

“No. This is Waterdeep.” He said bluntly and went on their way.

“Phoebe? How long have you had that book in your possession?” Syllan asked.

“I think I fucked up.” Phoebe said.

“Correction: You know you fucked up.” Raphraxus said privately to them.

“Well. Now what?” Zarimm asked.

“This stinks. I’m calling my patron…” Yar’rel grumbled.

“Do we actually get invited into the Magnificent Mansion this time?” Phoebe asked.
“No way am I inviting… Him!” Yar’rel protested, pointing at Raphraxus. Raphraxus
shrugged.

“I might like exploring this Waterdeep. I might even have fun without you being such a wet
blanket.” Raphraxus said.

“Don’t be that way, Yar’rel! That magic mansion’s so big, you won’t even have to see him!
We’ll stay out of your way!” Syllan pleaded.

“I’d copy the spell off him myself if he wasn’t so weird about me looking at his spell
book…” Phoebe mumbled.

“Grr… Fine, but I’m not responsible for anything that happens to your boyfriend!” Yar’rel
huffed, crossing her arms.

She just had to get in contact and figure out where to meet him. The lich Zhekyl didn’t mind
sharing his magnificent mansion with guests. Yar’rel typically only saw him once a month in
person. Twice if she was considerably lucky. He was slow to trust anyone in his lair and it
would likely be decades before Yar’rel could earn her place with him permanently. Yar’rel
picked up her sending stone, one of her links to him.

“They fucked up the teleport. We're in Waterdeep. Can we meet up? I love you…” She
blushed, whispering that last part. She used that sending stone to tell him she loved him every
day.

"Of course we can, love. Find your way to The Golden Harp. In the Sea Ward. I'll pay for a
room. I love you too." The lich with the other sending stone responded. Yar’rel smiled, which
was something she seemed to rarely do.

“I’ve got us accommodations at The Golden Harp! Let’s go!” The githyanki woman smiled.

“Nice!” Zarimm was psyched to get their bearings. “Now we just have to get directions…”
 You Teleported Into My Lair to Have Sex With Me!?
Chapter Summary

This is a flashback chapter, detailing Syllan's second encounter with Raphraxus, and the
start of their relationship.

Syllan had learned how to teleport recently. As he laid his weary head on his pillow inside of
his camp tent, he began thinking about all the places he could go with this spell. He could go
home to see his parents. He could go to any city he’s been to before. He could go back to any
place he’d been to before. He thought about that ulitharid and his lair. It was the dumbest
thing he’d ever thought about doing. He had touched himself many times thinking about that
aberration pinning him down, but to actually attempt it? That massive muscled mind flayer
was more likely to eat him!

He was a lot stronger than the first time he met him. He could probably take him in a fight.
Maybe. As long as those muscles didn’t break him in half… “I wonder how much he can
lift…” Syllan thought. “Ugh! What is wrong with me!?” He was unable to get the thought of
that ulitharid out of his head for months. He knew he should just go to sleep, but what if he
could do something about these feelings? “Dammit, Syllan. You’re just horny! Just go to
bed!” He scolded himself. The sorcerer pulled the blankets over himself more tightly.

He knew his party wouldn’t approve. He had to lie about where he was going. If he died from
doing this, he knew he would deserve it and it was better if no one knew the truth. It was too
embarrassing. Did that ulitharid ever think about him too? Syllan couldn’t believe he was
thinking about doing this. He got up and walked over the campfire where his party was. “Hey
uh…? I’m going home for a bit… I’ll be back in the morning.” He quietly informed them,
deceiving them.

“Testing out that new spell? Alright. See ya in the morning, Syllan!” Zarimm gave a friendly
wave.

“Bring us back some home cooking!” Phoebe said.

“I’ll try…” Syllan told them. He put emphasis on the word try.

“Instans Eo Secta!” He spoke the verbal component of his teleport spell and ended up in a
dark room dimly lit by glowing fungus. A large bed had a sleeping ulitharid who groggily
awoke. The buff aberration made a gurgled noise of confusion and stared at him for a
moment.

“ You! Came back for revenge, did you?” His deep masculine voice practically rumbled in
Syllan’s mind. He rolled out of bed, wearing nothing but a loincloth as he reached for a
massive sword. The blade was half his height, at least 4 and a half feet long.

“N-no no no no! I just want to talk!” Syllan waved his arms in a disarming manner. The
aberration lowered his sword. “I didn’t mean to wake you up…” He mumbled. The
ulitharid’s tentacles writhed inquisitively. What a strange sorcerer. “I’ve just been so in my
head and I needed to talk to you.” He tried to explain himself. The ulitharid sighed. He had so
many questions.

“At least tell me your name. I already ate very recently so I’m not going to get it out of your
brain that way.” The massive muscled mindflayer held his blade in a more relaxed manner.

“S… S-Syllan…” He responded.

“Nice to meet you, S-Syllan.” The aberration said, making fun of his stutter. “I’m
Raphraxus.” He introduced himself. Syllan thought it was a nice name. He was too shy to
say it. He felt himself freezing up. He didn’t account for his anxiety hitting him now! He
thought he was over this! The aberration poking fun at his speech made him weak. “Start
talking before I reconsider my hospitality.“ Raphraxus threatened.

“I-I… I- Can we sit down??” Syllan asked. Raphraxus wasn’t supposed to use his psionics.
It’s probably why his thrall Ormebela was barely obedient to him. He used his telekinesis to
push Syllan onto his butt on the floor. He grew closer to him, towering over him.

“Well? I’m waiting.” He looked at the trembling sorcerer in front of him.

“A-alright! Alright!” Syllan was trying so hard to push himself to get the words out. “W-
wait, can’t you just read my mind!? It would be so easy…” Syllan pointed out.

“Your head’s just as much of a mess, but this is clearly very important to you. So stop wasting
our time. Use your words.” Raphraxus demanded.

“I… I uh… I think. I’ve been thinking about you. A lot. Ever since we met…” Syllan
started.

“No shit! I almost killed you!” Raphraxus pointed out. He’d been thinking about Syllan too.
When he learned that emotion he sensed that day was lust, he decided against exploring it. He
wouldn’t be caught dead fucking thralls. He had standards to uphold. The Breeding Pen was
no place for him. It wasn’t as if humanoids like the half elf in front of him had perfect control
over their reactions to certain stimuli.

“I know… I know. This is fucking stupid but, I’ve been thinking about you in… A different
way and I thought I was happy maintaining the status quo and not doing anything risky like
that again and I feel like I’m missing out on something…” Syllan anxiously rambled as he sat
on the floor. Raphraxus listened intently. “Something awoke in me when I met you and I’ve
been so scared to tell anyone and now that I have the power talk to you, I feel like I’m
standing on the edge of a cliff. I could either run far away or take a leap of faith and… And…
I want you to be my leap of faith.” He tried to explain. He looked down at the floor,
occasionally trying to force himself to look at Raphraxus.

Raphraxus blushed at his words. Why did that touch him so deeply? He continued letting him
ramble. None of this made any logical sense and yet... “I don’t want to live knowing I never
took the chance. So this is me… Taking the chance. I think. I don’t want to say that I love
you but maybe I could. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m rambling… I’m trying to say. What I mean
is… If- If you… If you have me. If…” He started whimpering. “If you wanted me the way I
wanted you then. Fuck! Why is this so hard to get out??” Syllan grew frustrated with
himself.

“How the fuck did you even get in here?” Raphraxus asked, putting his palm against his face.
It snapped Syllan out of his pathetic whimpering and rambling.

“I teleported, sir… I mean! I-is that your preferred pronoun? Shit…” Syllan worried about
offending the aberration. It was actually kind of cute to Raphraxus.

“I do identify as masculine.” Raphraxus assured him. “So let me get this straight… You
teleported into my lair to have sex with me!?” The towering aberration asked.

Syllan’s face turned red at the question. He went completely silent. Syllan gasped as the
ulitharid picked him up off of the floor. It was all a blur as he was tossed onto the bed. It was
cool and made of moss. “You’re such an anxious mess, you can’t even talk… Do I make you
nervous?” He asked.

“No. I’m always like this!” Syllan mentally admitted, wondering if Raphraxus was listening.

“How’d a weakling like you manage to get so much magical power?” He asked. Syllan
slowly sits up on the bed to look at him.

“I’m in an adventuring party… They don’t know I’m here though!” Syllan assured him.
Being able to talk like this was admittedly very appealing to Syllan. It was so much easier…
“No one knows you’re here…? Literally no one knows that you’re here…” Raphraxus mused.
It was as if something in his mind was clicking. Syllan gulped nervously. His heart was
pounding, and the erection in his pants was obvious. “I’ll admit to being curious. I’ve never
been able to process these kinds of emotions. It’s too… Scandalous for someone like me.
Show me. Show me how to explore this feeling.” Raphraxus commanded. He knew he could
read the sorcerer’s mind but he truthfully had no idea what sexual activity between thralls
even looked like, much less between a humanoid and an ulitharid.

Syllan hesitated for a moment, his mind unsure if he should just throw off his clothes or what.
“Tell me with your words. I want to hear you.” Raphraxus told him.

“I… Damnit, I know I know this…” He whined. “M-make me! Make m-me show you.” He
stammered, bravely trying to push his buttons. Raphraxus caught on to his bratty behavior
and immediately grabbed at his tunic and ripped it in half with his raw strength. Syllan
gasped, realizing what just happened.

“Oh g-gods… How am I going to explain this…?” His face was completely red. His friends
would find out he was lying for sure now! Raphraxus laughed at him.

“You should have thought about that before you challenged me…” He darkly teased. He
lifted Syllan up with his arms and tentacles to inspect him. Tentacles were wrapped around
the half elf’s arms and legs as he supported him with his hands.

“C… Can I see yours…?” Syllan asked.

“My what?” Raphraxus asked.

“Your… Y-you know… Mnn… C-cock…?” He stammered. Raphraxus wheezed with

laughter, dropping him onto the bed.

“You want to have sex with me and you don’t even know a single thing about mind flayer
biology!?” Raphraxus asked, slapping his knee. Syllan had never felt dumber in his entire
life. “ Hah! Haha! Good one!” Raphraxus pulled away his loin cloth to show a completely
smooth crotch. “Who needs such primitive organs anyway? I’ve got 8 fully functional and
dexterous limbs. Your preconceived notions of what’s possible are about to be irreparably
shattered…” Raphraxus confidently told him. Perhaps it was his inhibitions loosening but his
mind was firmly fixed on the half elf’s lust.
“E-experiment with me…? Touch me with them, p-please. I-if you’re reading my mind then,
you’ll know if it feels good, right?” Syllan nervously reasoned. That’s what he was looking
for. Raphraxus had been subtly trying to goad some instruction out of this half elf on what to
do. His face felt hot as he pinned Syllan down. He turned his head, forcing the half elf to look
at him.

“It’s your fault I feel this way, and you interrupted my sleep so it better be worth it…”
Raphraxus growled.

“I… I hope it is too…” He admitted. “G-go lower. Please…” Syllan softly begged. He lightly
grabbed one of his tentacles out of curiosity. The texture of it was indescribable yet distinct.
So soft, slimy, supple and rubbery. He liked it. Raphraxus purred. He’d never made such a
noise before. “Was th-that a good noise…?” Syllan squeaked.

“Yes. It was.” He knew it was a good noise even if he never made it before. “I like that…”
Raphraxus admitted. He trailed a tentacle to his inner thigh, sensing how Syllan got all
worked up, as if begging him to touch his cock.

“What do you humanoids normally do during these… Primal activities?” Raphraxus asked.
Syllan’s mind immediately turned to kissing. “B-but you don't have lips, right…?” Syllan
asked.

“No, but I think I have an acceptable compromise.” Raphraxus put a tentacle to his lips. He
didn’t feel at all threatened by this stranger. If he attacked him with his teeth, it would be the
last thing he ever did. He knew Syllan knew that. Syllan gave the cutest, shy little kiss to it.

“What a polite little intruder you are…” Raphraxus teased. He decided to take the chance
and wrap a coiling tentacle around Syllan’s erect cock. He let out a soft gurgled moan with
Syllan.

“Well that’s interesting…” Raphraxus noted. His cheeks were blushing as he panted softly,
trying to find a good method and pace to stimulate him with.

“S-so good… So good…!” Syllan softly groaned. Raphraxus knew that he was doing just
fine now.

“You like it when I yank this out of your scrambled little mind, don’t you?” Raphraxus liked it
a lot.

“Y-yes! Yes, Raphraxus!” He affirmed. The further they went with this, the more his
inhibitions were undone. His ex couldn’t compare. No one could. It wasn’t just in his body.
He could feel Raphraxus in his very mind, picking apart his anxiety. He practically broke
right through. “Oh, fuck! I’d do anything you want for this. I’ve wanted this so badly…” He
confessed.

“Anything I want, hm…?” Raphraxus asked, a smug curiosity seeping into his words.

“I-I mean I don’t wanna do anything b-bad and I can’t get you brains without my friends
getting suspicious b-but…” Syllan realized what he just said.

“Later. I’m not done with you.” Raphraxus couldn’t even be bothered to think about the
logistics of such an arrangement right now.

“I-it’ll feel really good if you… P-put it in me…” Syllan offered shyly.

“Put what in you? Where?” He knew damn well what Syllan wanted. He just loved making
him say it.

“P-putting a tentacle in… In my. In… Fuck!” He cried out as he felt Raphraxus slowly filling
him with a tentacle. Raphraxus made himself moan as well.

“That does feel really good…” Raphraxus admitted. He pulled Syllan into his lap, continuing
to stroke his cock while plunging into him with a tentacle. Syllan whimpered as he held onto
Raphraxus. He began licking and kissing his tentacles fervently. The scent of the ulitharid
was indescribable to him. It reminded him of his mother’s garlic bread and his grandmother’s
cakes at the same time. It was like home and someplace foreign all at once.

This was so much better to Raphraxus than simply eating the sorcerer’s brain. He wanted to
keep going. He couldn’t stop. Everything in Syllan’s mind was begging him not to. He didn’t
want to stop exploring this half elf’s strange desire for him. There was something liberating
in it for Raphraxus but he couldn’t understand what. The ability to think critically was
becoming hazy. He felt powerful, reducing his escaped meal into a mindless, whimpering…
Mutually pleasurable experience.

Syllan was no thrall. A thrall could never make him feel this way. Syllan was special… He
wasn’t sure how yet, but he felt it. Syllan reached up for him, wanting to kiss his face. He
was certainly brave for someone who could barely speak to him without being anxious.
Raphraxus obliged, continuing his ministrations as he lifted him up higher. Syllan leaned in,
pressing his lips against the ridge of the tentacles above his mouth. He rested his forehead
against Raphraxus’, feeling a tingling in his scalp and faintly through his whole body. He
gasped as he took note of it.
“Thank you… Thank you!” Syllan whimpered. Raphraxus’ body heated up. They both felt
hotter. He couldn’t get a single word out as his movements grew more desperate.

“Right there! Like that!” Syllan mentally begged. It felt like something was building up.
Something was about to happen. Syllan whimpered desperately. Raphraxus growled as the
half elf’s seed splattered onto the aberration’s chest and stomach.

“Oh my Tentacled Lord… Was that supposed to happen…?” Raphraxus asked, looking up at
the ceiling as he laid down next to Syllan on his massive moss bed. The cool dampness of it
felt quite calming to Syllan.

“Uh-huh…” Syllan confirmed, equally as surprised. “That was uh… Really good.
Incredible…”

“I agree… So… Now what happens? I can’t keep you here as a thrall. You’re a sorcerer.
They’d destroy you.” Raphraxus pondered.

“I uh… Have to get a good rest and wait a few hours before I can leave… I can only teleport
once at a time…” Syllan admitted.

“You came in here with no exit plan!? And what if I had wanted to go through with killing
you!?” Raphraxus scolded.

“Die pathetically, I guess…” Syllan mentally responded.

“Are adventurers normally like that?” Raphraxus asked.

“Only the bad ones… Phoebe’s normally the one that keeps me from doing stupid stuff.”
Syllan said.

“So what happened this time??” Raphraxus chuckled.

“I lied and told them that I was visiting home…” Syllan gave him a nervous smile.
Raphraxus wiped the semen from his chest and stomach with the tattered remains of Syllan’s
tunic, before looking over at Syllan and gently cleaning his slime up from him.

“I guess that means if I want to do this again I should help you cover up your errant little
detour… Stay here. I’ll be back.” Raphraxus pulled on his pants and left the room, he
returned a minute later throwing a night robe at him. It had an earthy green color. He also got
him some water to drink which he set down on the end table for Syllan.
“I borrowed that from my thrall. It might be a bit small. She’s a dwarf.” Raphraxus warned
him. Syllan pulled it on. It fit. Barely… It hardly covered his ass. “You look kind of cute in it
at least…” The aberration complimented. It would have to do. It would be obvious if
Raphraxus leant him any of his clothes.

“Uhm… Do mind flayers know how to cook? Or can your thrall cook?” Syllan asked.

“First you sneak into my home to have sex with me and now you’re raiding my larder??”
Raphraxus’ tentacles writhed in amusement at this sorcerer’s big britches.

“Sorry. Phoebe asked for some homemade food because she thinks I’m at my parent’s
house… Y-you don’t have to trouble yourself if you don’t want to…” Syllan looked at him
apologetically. Raphraxus sighed at what a pain in the butt this guy was being, but part of him
wanted him to come back.

“If I do this for you, would you be willing to see me again…?” He asked. Syllan nodded. He
would have done it even if he didn’t want to. “Are you hungry now?” He asked. Syllan shook
his head. “ I only know how to make dwarven food. My thrall doesn’t wake up for anything if
she doesn’t want to so I guess you’re getting bangers and mash when you wake up. I end up
cooking breakfast in this domicile half the time anyway.” He couldn’t complain. He ate a
portion of it too for the extra protein. Ormebela was at least a hard worker after waking up.
His domicile was kept spotless. She was sassy but caring in her own way.

“I guess you need somewhere to sleep too, huh?” Raphraxus thought it would have been rude
to make him sleep on the floor. He supposed sleeping next to him for a little bit wouldn't be
terrible. After all, he wasn’t a thrall. Raphraxus pulled a thin sheet of silk out of his closet. He
often used it as a blanket. “You can stay in my bed, but if you snore, sleepwalk, or talk in your
sleep, I’m kicking you out.” Raphraxus warned, getting comfortable in bed with him.

“I don’t think I do any of those things.” Syllan thought, quietly snickering. He felt so
strangely comfortable falling asleep next to this ulitharid. Raphraxus settled into bed with
him. “I’m glad I took this chance with you…” He whispered to him.

“I am too… But maybe consider picking a less late hour?” Raphraxus lightly bonked him on
the head with a tentacle. He was dead tired.

“S-sorry…” Syllan apologized.

“Perhaps a few hours earlier… However, morning is when I have the most freetime if you
can swing it.” Raphraxus informed him. Syllan yawned.
“I’ll keep that in mind…”H e tiredly mumbled, He turned over, allowing himself to be the
little spoon as Raphraxus draped a tentacle over him. It was the start of a very interesting
relationship…
 The Breakfast Club
Chapter Summary

I didn't mean to make this entire chapter surround about making breakfast, it just kind of
happened.

Maybelle was always happy to see Srebral when he came into work. Today he had actually
come in early and she woke up to him gently waking her. Her eyes lit up the instant she saw
him. “Srebral!” She smiled.

“Shh. Everyone else is still asleep.” Her master told her.

“Oh. Sorry.” She whispered. She sat up from her bed to hug him. Every morning she went out
of her way to hug him and today was no different. She tiredly rubbed her eyes after the initial
excitement faded. He blushed, realizing she wore nothing to bed. She was completely nude as
she hugged him.

“Wow, you are here early… I’m still sleepy.” She admitted with a yawn.

“I apologize for interrupting your sleep. You can go back to bed if you want to, I just wanted
to know if you wanted to help me cook breakfast for everyone.” Srebral offered to teach her
how to cook some more.

“Oh, boy, I sure do!” Maybelle whispered. She sleepily pulled on her clothes. Srebral
patiently waited for her to change and quietly led her to the kitchen.

“I figured you’d be tired from getting up so early, so I got something special imported.”
Coffee was a luxury commodity, and they imported the beans from The Shining Lands. The
beans were already expensive on the surface, but even at a cost of 5 to 8 mindgates it helped
wake Srebral up. Having a caffeine addiction was too expensive. He had already brewed a
cup for her before he had woken her up.

“What’s this weird black drink?” Maybelle asked.

“Coffee. It’s supposed to help wake you up.” Srebral said. Maybelle took a sip before making
a face and putting the cup down.
“Yuck. Well I’m definitely more awake now!” Maybelle said.

“Oh right. Most humans don’t like bitter flavors.” Srebral casually noted. He put a bit of milk
and three spoonfuls of beet sugar into the cup, stirring it up. Maybelle cautiously sipped it,
giving it another chance.

“That’s much better! Thank you.” She smiled softly as she sipped her nice and warm cup of
coffee.

“So what are we making today?” She asked.

“Feywild eggs. It’s more or less just a quiche without a crust.” Srebral said.

“I don’t know what that is.” Maybelle said, smiling apologetically.

“So imagine a pie, but it’s savory and made with eggs and cheese and then you throw in
whatever you want such as meats or vegetables. We’re going do that but without the crust.”
Her master explained.

“Oh! I think I get it.” Maybelle was eager to see what to do. He had one of his old recipe
books open.

“Out of curiosity… Do you know how to read common?” He asked.

“No. I don’t read all that well in general, but I can do algebra.” Maybelle responded.

“I guess I’ll have to teach you at some point. Many of my cookbooks are in common.”
Srebral said.

“I like learning from you.” She confessed. No one had ever told him that before. It made him
feel his mundane skills were worth something.

“So our oven is already lit and ready to go. The recipe calls for 9 eggs, but since these are
diatryma eggs we’re only going to use three.” He cracked them into a bowl, mixed with fire
lichen and salt. “Now we beat it all together.” He gave her a whisk.

“Uhm. Okay…?” She began aggressively slapping the whisk into the mixture.

“Stop! Stop!” Srebral stopped her. Maybelle looked at him confused. “I said beat them, not
beat them up!” He groaned.

“I took what you said literally again, didn’t I?” She looked a little ashamed.
“It’s alright, Maybelle. I’ll show you what I meant.” He gently takes the whisk and bowl
away from her, whisking them in a circular motion until everything is one uniform color and
evenly mixed.

“Oh… That makes a lot more sense.” She chuckled a bit. “I’m silly…”

“You have your moments…” He patted her head with a tentacle.

“So next we’re going to get the skillet and we’ll put our vegetable oil in it and we’ll heat that
until it simmers. That takes about 5 to 10 minutes.” Srebral flipped a small hourglass over.
“Toss me one of those onions.” He instructed. She got one from the bag of onions and tossed
it to him from across the kitchen. He nimbly caught it with a tentacle. He finely chopped it up
while Maybelle enjoyed her coffee. Srebral took a few sips of coffee from his own mug,
made from a gnome’s skull. He did enjoy the pick-me-up that the beverage gave him, even if
he couldn’t taste it.

They quietly enjoyed each other’s company, drinking coffee and waking up. Maybelle had a
soft smile on her face. Srebral found himself wondering what mornings would be like in his
domicile if she lived with him. That smile was becoming the light of his life. Maybe things
would be brighter with her around. He kept an eye on the hourglass. “Oh, it’s time for the
next step!” He set down his coffee and Maybelle joined to watch him cook. “Next we soften
up the onions by cooking them for a few minutes.” While the onions were cooking he handed
Maybelle a grater with a tentacle. “Go ahead and grate up that block of cheese to your
right.” He instructed. Maybelle began grating the cheese over a bowl, letting the shredded
cheese fall into the bowl.

“Like this?” She asked, making sure she was doing it right.

“Perfect!” Srebral confirmed. Once the onions were softened, he poured in the egg mixture,
letting it set for a minute. “Spread the cheese evenly over the eggs. You know, like a blanket.”
He said. Maybelle followed his instructions, sprinkling the cheese over the eggs. “And into
the oven it goes! This takes about 13 to 15 minutes. The center should be set and the frittata
should be puffed.”

“It’s going to turn out so yummy!” Maybelle said.

“Well of course, it’s hard to screw up with eggs! They’re one of the easiest foods to cook
with.” Srebral said. “It was the first thing I learned to cook…” Srebral’s first thrall taught
him how to read the cookbooks. Looking back, was it really worth killing that woman? Did
he really have to do that? The guilt gnawed at the back of his mind when he was alone, every
time he went by those empty thrall’s quarters in his domicile. Thankfully none of his prior
two thralls were killed in his domicile so he didn’t have to worry about it being haunted or
something. Ghost stories about thralls coming back from the dead to haunt illithids had given
him nightmares in the past.

“Thank you for teaching me.” She thanked him with a smile, snapping him out of his
thoughts. Everyone often told him he was stuck in the past. Maybelle made him present and
happy to be there.

“You’re welcome. Why don’t you go see if everyone else is awake? Breakfast will be ready
soon.” He said. Maybelle gave him a kiss on the cheek before going to wake everyone else
up. His tentacles wiggled as she trotted away. He knew Brilanna didn’t really care for eggs,
but she could eat yesterday’s biscuits just fine. He went ahead and reheated them for her and
brought out the rothe butter.

Shelura and Wesmi were awake by now. Brilanna remained asleep. Maybelle poked her head
in and cheerfully knocked on the door. “Wakey, wakey! Eggs and bakey!” She chimed.
Brilanna groaned and threw her pillow at Maybelle, who ducked out of the way. The pillow
slapped Shelura in the face behind her. “Aww, but we made breakfast for everyone!”
Maybelle pouted.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming!” Brilanna groaned. “Shoo! I need to get dressed!”

Maybelle left the room, closing the door behind her. It’s been months since their master took
the time to make breakfast. Shelura and Wesmi were happy to eat something other than soup
and sporebread for breakfast for once. “What did you end up making?” Wesmi asked.

“I think he called it feywild eggs. He said it was like a quiche without the crust? Whatever
that is.” Maybelle responded.

Maybelle returned with her co-workers and Srebral was cutting the finished dish into four
wedges. Brilanna noticed that he had reheated the biscuits for her. “I’ll try a bite of what you
made… Not for any reason or anything!” Brilanna said. Srebral rolled his eyes and served her
the fourth wedge.

“Alright, but I don’t want to hear any complaints if you don’t like it.” Srebral said. Maybelle
eagerly dug into her wedge of feywild eggs with a fork and took a hearty bite.

“Mmm!” She sounded impressed.

“Thank you for breakfast, Master.” Wesmi said.

“Everyone make sure to thank Maybelle too. She helped.” Srebral wanted to make sure she
was properly credited.

Everyone, including Brilanna thanked Maybelle. Maybelle covered her cheeks, bashful at the
compliment. “Aww. It was nothing. Srebral was teaching me to cook.” She said. Brilanna
reluctantly tried it. Her eyes widened. She was seemingly stunned before continuing to eat.

“It’s fine… Alright, I admit it. It’s divine! What the heck did you put in this? I normally hate
eggs.” Brilanna commented.

“The secret ingredient was love!” Maybelle answered. Srebral blushed a bit at her answer.
Wesmi and Shelura giggled like schoolgirls. That was actually really cute…

“In all seriousness it’s eggs, onions, fire lichen, salt and rothe cheddar.” Srebral answered. “I
warmed up some biscuits in case you didn’t like it.”

Everyone else also enjoyed the meal. To Maybelle, even simple things could have a sense of
warmth and wonder to them. Srebral was learning to recapture his love of cooking through
her. “Do you want another cup of coffee, Maybelle?” He asked her.

“No thank you. I’m awake now!” She was wide awake and felt a kick of energy from the first
cup. It’s been ages since any of them got to drink coffee! Wesmi wanted some.

“Can I have it if she doesn’t want it?” Wesmi asked. Srebral passed the coffee press to her
with a tentacle.

“Maybelle, can I ask you a private question?” Srebral asked her.

“Sure! What is it?” Maybelle mentally responded while eating.

“I… Would you…” It was clearly difficult for him to gather his thoughts. “Would you like to
stay in my domicile with me?” He asked. He had gone out and bought new bedding for her to
use after work yesterday. His heart sank when he sensed a conflict in her mind. “What’s
wrong, Maybelle? Did I say something wrong?” He tried to get to the bottom of it.

“Oh no! Nothing’s wrong! It’s just that… I’m torn. I love being near you, but I’m worried that
if I move in, I won’t see my friends so much after work anymore… Seeing how happy
everyone is because I’m working so hard makes me happy too.” She explained. When she
brought it up, Srebral paid attention to his other employees. She was right. Even Brilanna
seemed to be warming up to things. He realized that Maybelle felt like she was choosing
between two things she held dear to her.
“Let’s make a compromise then. You don’t have to choose one or the other exclusively. You
can go between your room here at The Skull Cup and my domicile. Whenever you like.” He
offered. Maybelle blinked in surprise.

“I get two rooms?? Woah! I must be the luckiest thrall in Oryndoll. Not even platinum thralls
get two rooms…” Maybelle commented.

“I haven’t known you for long, but you’ve become special to me.” Srebral confessed.

“You’re special to me too. I’ll stay… With you tonight!” Maybelle reciprocated his feelings.
His heart felt lighter at that. He couldn’t wait to show her the room. He even went through
the trouble of decorating it for her by himself.

“I’m glad. Thank you, Maybelle.” The only thing he had to come home to for a long time
was his terrarium of pill bugs. They were but simple creatures, content to eat the scraps from
his inn. In a way, caring for them made him feel like a benevolent god. Even when he felt like
everything else in his life was going to shit, he still made sure to remove uneaten food and
mist the terrarium every day.

When breakfast was done, the ladies cleaned up and Srebral went to his office as they opened
up for the day. He started the day off going through his correspondences. He was shocked to
see one stamped with the seal of the Possessor Creed. He carefully unwrapped it and rubbed
his tentacles over the qualith tablet to read it. It was from Aphrayaozu. Oh God-Brain! He
found out he purchased Maybelle. It was only a matter of time before the bath house regulars
found out where she was staying… Aphrayaozu had apparently been interested in buying her
and the creed-master believed the sale was made “errantly”.

He was offering to purchase Maybelle for 80 mind gates. That was twice what he had paid!
His tentacles writhed angrily. Aphrayaozu had a lot of nerve to send him this garbage!
Maybelle was his! There was even a contract stating so. He got out his own qualith tablet and
striator and he wrote a simple but firm response.

“Maybelle is not for sale at ANY price.” -Srebral

 Take Me in the Bath
Chapter Summary

This is another flashback chapter, taking place 5 years ago. Maybelle the new bath
attendant gets her cherry popped by a couple of illithids.

Despite it’s name, The Breeding Pen had expanded more than ever under the ownership of A
Breeder Named Slisskbax. A source of hot spring water was found during his expansion of
his caverns in the last decade. Ever since then, the creed-master also owned a place of
relaxation and rejuvenation that illithids gladly lined up and paid for the privilege to use. Hot
baths, massages and other treatments were offered by thralls trained to offer the male drow
experience to anyone. They even had a real male drow, making Elzaphir in high demand, to
the point where illithids often had to wait months in order to get a session with him.

Maybelle had been a bath attendant for two months. The enthusiastic human was genuinely
grateful to have something to do. Vizaness noticed she had started growing depressed in the
menagerie. She needed something to do. She needed a job to feel fulfilled. She loved
interacting with the customers even if it was just to bring them soap or towels.

She worked in the private baths for illithids. Every day she walked past stone signs in
Undercommon that read “THE EMPLOYEE THRALLS ARE NOT SNACKS”. Not that
Maybelle could read all that well. Every day she went to work wearing clean, loose white
robes. The robes left little to the imagination, and generously showed off her cleavage. She
was moved to the private baths because other thralls kept propositioning her in the thrall
baths. Maybelle always turned them down, not wanting to get caught “goofing off on the
job”. Valdran and Izzven were often competing over her and horseplaying in the bath, so
Casber and Vizaness thought it best to move her to prevent their thralls from getting hurt.

Today she was waiting on a couple of clients in a private cavern who were using the private
grotto pool. Karlux was a gnome ceremorph and Kan was his illithid coworker. Both of them
were merchants. The merchants worked well together and when they came home, they spent
their hard earned money to pamper themselves. Where most illithids would attempt to
sabotage each other, Karlux and Kan genuinely believed in mutually benefiting from each
other. One could even go as far as to call them best friends. “She’s pretty cute…” Karlux
mused. “You said you used a thrall before, right?”
“I don’t know if we’re allowed to touch the bath attendants…” Kan warned his short friend.

“Here are your drinks!” She bent over to give them their glasses of cerebrospinal fluid while
they were in the pool. Her ample bosom was practically spilling out of her robes. “Can I get
you anything else?” She asked them, a cheerful smile on her face. Karlux was sitting on a
shallow step in the grotto.

“I mean no offense, sweetheart, but how would you like to join us?” Karlux asked. There was
no harm in asking.

“Oh my…” Maybelle looked towards the entrance of the grotto. “Just so you know, that kind
of company costs extra…” She blushed. Kan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The
rumors about this place were true after all.

“How much extra are we talkin’?” Karlux asked.

“I actually don’t know. I’ve never done it before. I’m new here.” Maybelle answered
honestly.

“We’ve got plenty of mindgates. We can worry about the pricing later. This place is good and
cheap, right, Kan?” Karlux didn’t seem all that concerned about incurring an extra fee.
Maybelle slowly took off her robes in front of them and got into the water with them. It felt
amazing. It was rare that she actually got to enjoy the pools. She never got to enjoy them
during work hours. A mind flayer had never seen her nude before. She gave a shy smile to
them.

She soaked her hair before bringing herself onto the step with Karlux. “Wait, you said you’ve
never done this before. Does that mean you’ve never had an illithid put their tentacles on
you?” Karlux asked. Maybelle shook her head.

“Nope.” She responded simply.

“Hmm… I don’t know if this is a good idea, Karlux.” Kan voices his concerns. It would make
her owner angry to take advantage of a thrall that didn’t know what they were doing. It would
have been wrong to ruin her first time. “Do you understand what we intend to do with you?”
Kan asked her.

“I’m not naming names but I’ve seen thralls with a bit of pent up energy in the baths… I’m
pretty aware of some rumors...” She said.

“Alright… So the most important question is, are you alright with this? We can’t hurt you.”
Kan informed her. “It’s not fun for us if it’s not fun for you.”
“I’d like to try.” She sounded shy, but eager. She felt herself come out of her shell whenever
an illithid took the time to look in her direction or talk to her. It was a rare treat whenever she
got to have entire conversations with them. She had never quite connected with other
humanoids. They mostly ignored her. More than anything she wanted to be noticed.

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s my first time too.” Karlux admitted to help her feel more comfortable.
Kan sat next to Maybelle, putting her between the two mind flayers. He began probing her
thoughts. Maybelle willingly opened her mind for them both. It was an interesting sensation
to her. Kan gently ran his nails down her back. She relaxed at his touch.

“Feels nice…” Maybelle said.

“I’m glad. If for any reason you’re not enjoying yourself, it’s not a reflection of your worth as
a thrall.” Kan said. “No pressure. No wrong answers or thoughts. Just let yourself be…”
Kan encouraged her. Even Karlux felt himself start to relax.

“Damn, are you the thrall whisperer or somethin’?” Karlux commented.

“How would you like me to touch you?” Maybelle asked them.

“You know… I think hugs might be nice… Don’t tell anyone I said that.” Karlux blushed.

“Why? What’s wrong with getting hugs? I think they’re nice too.” Maybelle wondered. She
gave the small aberration a warm hug, pressing them against her chest. Karlux blushed, but
enjoyed the softness of her large breasts. He gave the supple flesh of her ample bosom a
gentle squeeze.

“I agree. You give really nice hugs.” Karlux complimented.

“Self expression can be difficult for some to be comfortable with.” Kan explained. “I like it
when my tentacles are touched.” Kan sounded like the more confident of the two in
unfamiliar situations, but Karlux certainly wasn’t without gusto. The feeling of illithid skin
against her own was fascinating. The water made it seem extra slippery. One of Kan’s
tentacles wrapped loosely around her shoulders as he trailed his fingers down her back.

She trailed her fingers over Kan’s tentacle before softly grasping it. She heard an approving
purr. She’d heard a noise like it before coming from her mistress but she didn’t know exactly
what it was until now. “Just like that. You’re doing well.” Kan praised her.
“It was Karlux, right? Would it be weird if I wanted to smooch the top of your little head…?”
She asked.

Kan snickered at her question. “You’re right, Karlux. She’s adorable.”

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” Karlux encouraged her. Maybelle planted her lips on the top of his
smooth slimy head. He smelled of vanilla. Maybelle didn’t even know what a vanilla bean
was but the smell was sweet and warm to her. Kan was like garlic. The two of them together
were a strange yet addicting combination.

“You’re quite the charmer, Karlux.” Kan playfully complimented his friend. Kan began
teasing her nipples, rubbing them with the tips of his tentacles. Karlux pulled his face from
her breasts.

“Damn! She could suffocate someone with those things!” He commented to his taller friend.

Kan didn’t react to Karlux’s crass comment, even if he thought it was funny. He was focused
on making sure Maybelle was comfortable. “Does that feel good?” He asked her.

“Uh-huh… I think I like it better when you touch them.” She responded. She had
experimented with Tarasa, her fellow half-drow menagerie thrall. It never went beyond
teasing and foreplay and they just kind of never spoke about it again. She felt herself get
warmer at remembering that.

She didn’t want to be teased and forgotten about anymore. “It’s alright, sweetie. We’ll take
good care of you.” Karlux assured her.

“What else do you like?” Kan whispered into her mind.

“When I touch myself… I really like touching myself down there. My clitoris.” She recalled
her anatomy lessons. They guided her to the edge of the grotto pool, bringing her on dry
land.

“Karlux, would you be so kind as to get her some towels?” Kan requested. Karlux got two
folded towels. One to put her butt on and another to rest her head on so it’s not on the stone
floor. Maybelle laid down, attempting to get comfortable.

“Hmm… One more should do it.” Kan said. She moved over as he laid it out for her. That
was much better. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Maybelle expressed her appreciation. She laid down and Karlux got
between her legs.
“Stupid question… What do I do now?” Karlux asked.

“It’s not dumb to ask.” Maybelle assured him.

“It’s a skill that requires practice like any other. Go slow and take your time. It’s different for
everyone.” Kan said.

“I usually just rub my clitoris and rub my nipple with my other hand.” Maybelle described
what an average masturbation session was like for her. Karlux began rubbing her clit with a
tentacle. They were far shorter than his friend’s tentacles, at 9 inches long. His tentacles
barely fit around the average humanoid head. Neither he nor Kan were particularly skilled at
anything individually, but when they worked together, they could accomplish much.

Maybelle relaxed. Her mind let him know when he’d found a good spot and rhythm. It was
amazing, being able to communicate without words. “So good…” She softly moaned. Karlux
let out some soft little purrs as he pleasured Maybelle. She thought it was a really cute noise.
Normally he would have been embarrassed about making such sounds, but it felt too good for
him to care.

He was feeling more adventurous when Maybelle shivered just from his touch. Kan’s
tentacles were on her body, seeking out her erogenous zones with analytical accuracy. The
desire to do more was becoming apparent. She wanted to go all the way with this. “Have you
ever put anything inside yourself such as your fingers?” Kan asked.

“N-no…” Maybelle muttered.

“That’s alright. It just means we need to be a little more gentle with you.” Kan said.

“Do you think you could take over from here?” Karlux was more confident in his friend than
in himself to handle this.

“Of course.” Kan affirmed. The two of them switched places. Karlux rested his head against
her chest. Her breasts were great pillows.

“You can hug me if you want. You know, if you get nervous.” Karlux offered. Maybelle smile
and wrapped her arm around him.

“You’re very huggable.” Maybelle said with a smile.

Kan slowly and gently rubbed a tentacle against her vulva. One of his tentacles wrapped
around her free arm so she could hold onto it for comfort. She gently held it. “Wait. This isn’t
going to hurt, is it?” Karlux asked. He wanted a warning if it would. After all, they were both
linked to her sensations. They would feel it if it did hurt.

“It’s not supposed to. That’s why I’m going slow. A little bit of discomfort at first is normal.
Humans aren’t always good at expressing what they need in unfamiliar situations, so I’m
counting on you to help her check in with me.” Kan explained. His friend’s words helped
Karlux focus less on the what if’s and more on the now. “Here we go…”

Maybelle let out a whimpered moan as she felt the illithid’s tentacle filling her up slowly. He
rubbed her clit with another tentacle, attempting to relax her, but he loved the way she
squeezed him. “Oh fuck…” He gurgled. “Any thrall would have been lucky to have you.” He
complimented her. She laughed softly before it became a moan. The sensation was entirely
foreign to Karlux. He thought it was good, but he had to be sure.

“Are you holding up alright, sweetheart?” He asked her.

“I think s-Oh! Yeess…!” Maybelle moaned. It was a good feeling indeed.

“You’re doing great.” Kan praised her. Karlux nuzzled himself against Maybelle, finding it
hard to think straight. He was content to sit back and relax, letting his friend do all the hard
work. Maybelle held him close.

Her moans grew a little louder, echoing in the cavern. Karlux panted, his breathing becoming
shallow. Strained little squeaks were coming out of his mouth and Maybelle kissed him
softly. Vizaness was watching them from the entrance to the grotto. She wasn’t going to stop
them unless Maybelle showed signs of distress. They already started, so they may as well
finish. Maybelle’s expression was one of bliss. Her jaw dropped as she focused entirely on
the sensation in her body and mind. Karlux slid a tentacle across her neck, tracing a small
trail of slime over it.

It pushed her mind ever deeper into pleasure. Her legs trembled. The gnome ceremorph in her
embrace felt his face growing hot. “Keep doing that! Don’t stop!” Karlux begged Kan.
Maybelle knew she was going to cum if they kept doing this. She didn’t anticipate how hard
she would cum. Maybelle let out a loud grunt that echoed through the grotto. Her cheeks
were red as she hastily covered her mouth. She couldn’t stop herself from giggling.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to be that loud…” Maybelle squeaked.

“Don’t be… That was… Amazing!” Karlux found himself giggling a little. Kan finally
noticed Vizaness and she was floating over the pool with her arms crossed.

“Uh oh… Karlux, I think we might be in trouble.” Kan pointed out.

“I hope you two are planning to pay for the privilege of deflowering my thrall.” Vizaness
said. She had gone looking for Maybelle when she realized the human had been with her
clients a bit longer than she normally should be.

“Haha… Of course, Vizaness! What do we owe you?” Karlux pulled away from Maybelle.
Maybelle sat up and looked at her mistress.

“Maybelle, did you enjoy yourself? Be honest with me.” She asked. Maybelle’s answer would
dictate what Vizaness would charge them.

“It was really good! So much better than using my hand! Kan was really nice to me and did a
good job at helping me through it. Karlux was really cute too.” Maybelle said honestly. “I’d
like to do it again someday.” She confessed.

“Your fee is two mindgates each.” Vizaness told them.

“I got it covered, Kan.” Karlux said, digging four mindgates out of his robe pockets and
handing them Vizaness. Her tentacles curled, satisfied with the end result.

“In the future, please remember that you must inform one of us if you want one of our thralls
to keep you company. This is to ensure that our bathing facilities maintain a clean, efficient
and relaxing environment for everyone.” She puts on her professional tone of voice with
them. “ Maybelle, You are needed in the laundry facilities.” She informed the busty human
who was cleaning herself off.

“Yes, mistress! I hope I didn’t cause any inconvenience.” Maybelle smiled sheepishly.

“You’re not in trouble. Just don’t let anyone else stop you along the way if you can help it.”
Vizaness winked. It honestly wasn’t her fault. She was somewhat impressionable and a
natural people pleaser. Maybelle began drying herself off and putting her dry robes back on.

“Did you find her?” Zusrall asked from outside of the grotto.

“Yes, she’s fine. I swear I can’t leave that thrall alone for a moment! She’s only been in the
private baths for a week and the illithids are on her too!” She leaves the grotto to greet
Zusrall.

“Is she alright?” Zusrall asked. It was the trainer’s job to know if a thrall got hurt on the job,
even if it wasn’t their thrall.

“Oh, I’d say she’s better than alright, if you know what I mean…” Vizaness implied. It
wasn’t difficult for Zusrall to catch on.

“Oh my…” Zusrall muttered.

“I might have to start scheduling some training sessions with you. Fengrace could tag
along.” She offered to let him bring his halfling thrall into the mix. Zusrall was new to the
top 50% of breeders. He thought that taking her up on the offer would help him climb even
higher up the ranks if he could impress her.

“Of course. Just tell me when and where.” Zusrall graciously accepted. As her mistress left
Maybelle behind to continue her duties, the human bowed to the two illithids whom she
pleased.

“Thank you for sharing that experience with me. I hope you’ll be willing to patronize our
bath house in the future!” She said.

“Oh, we’ll definitely visit again. Thanks for putting up with our shenanigans. See you
around!” Karlux said. Maybelle had a pep in her step, a big smile on her face as she made
her way to the laundry facilities.

They would become regular customers for years, even after joining the Possessor Creed when
its refugees arrived two years later.
 Social Studies Lesson: Creeds
Chapter Summary

Ellimol teaches his construct child, Curio, about the various illithid creeds.

As Ellimol worked with their new child to develop their sentience, Curio was given the
responsibility of caring for the rats. The animals became pets which the metallic illithid
shaped construct adored and cared for on a maintained schedule. Curio fed them twice a day
like clockwork with fresh carrots, vegetables, insects, sporebread, and the occasional bit of
cooked meat as a treat. Curio had even named them. It was fascinating behavior to Ellimol.

“Vhy did you give zem names?” Ellimol asked his creation. Any other illithid would likely
have chastised Curio for engaging in such pointless behavior. After all, they are rats and not
sentient creatures, but Ellimol’s question came from a place of curiosity.

“You told me that names have power. I am unsure what power rats have, but I felt it
appropriate to acknowledge it. Their names are Angstrom, Skitter and Nixie.” Curio pointed
them out by name.

“Mein rats vere named zhings like #35 and #242…” Ellimol recalled his experiments. “Ah,
#160 vas zee most adorable little specimen! She vas able to complete mazes!” Ellimol fondly
recalled.

“I am currently training Skitter to hold and carry small objects.” Curio informed their father.
They were already developing their dominion over other creatures! Ellimol couldn’t be
prouder!

“I vould love to see zee progress you make vhen your pets vake up.” They were currently
snoozing soundly in the enclosure, in a pile of moss that was included for enrichment. One
could see them pressed against the glass in the corner of the tank in a cuddle pile.

One of the most important aspects in Curio’s development was making sure that the sentient
construct could learn to interact properly in the society of Ellimol’s colony. “If you are
finished zhen it is time for your social studies lesson, Curio.” Ellimol told them. The metallic
illithid slowly stood up from their chair and went into the main room. These lessons would
have been so much easier if Curio were able to consult their colony’s elder brain. While The
Encephilithid had heard much about Ellimol’s breakthrough, it was currently uninterested in
communicating with the construct directly. It was curious to see just how much potential
Curio had.

Curio was clearly capable of wielding psionics because they could speak telepathically, but
that wasn’t enough to impress The Encephilithid. Newborn illithids could achieve telepathic
communication easily, even if they could only speak to one person at a time. Even a
particularly gifted human could achieve telepathic communication. Curio sat down on a
cushion on the floor while Ellimol wheeled out a chalkboard from storage. At the very least,
Curio was able to read without any further instruction. Their handwriting however, was a bit
messy.

It was nearly identical to Ellimol’s sloppy writing. It was as if it were an inherited trait,
further lending credence to the theory that pieces of Ellimol’s knowledge and his psyche were
imprinted upon Curio from birth. “In our last lesson, vee talked about zee history of our
grand city of Oryndoll. In today’s lesson, vee vill be covering our customs und culture!”

Curio watched and listened to their father intently. “Zee tenets of zee loretaker Creed
dominates much of the culture of Oryndoll. Zee main purpose of our city is to acquire
knowledge no matter how trivial, by stripping it from zee zhrall races. Viz our efforts, all of
Toril vill be reduced to barbarism!” Ellimol began to explain.

“What are creeds, father?” Curio asked.

“Creeds are zee topic of zhis lesson, actually!” Ellimol’s tentacles wiggled, pleased at his
child’s thirst for knowledge. “Creeds are zee recognized factions of mind flayer communities!
Membership in a creed can be very important to a mind flayer. Mind flayers who have
shtrong opinions on a subject or particular philosophies join one of our various creeds. Most
mind flayers only join one creed but I am actually a member of two. It helps keep me busy
since I do not leave mein domicile very often. A rare few are in no creed. Zee owner of our
only inn, Zee Skull Cup, does not belong to a creed.” He started to explain.

Curio wondered why their father didn’t go outside very much but decided that such a
question would derail the current lesson. They decided they would save those questions until
the end.

“What creeds are you a member of? How many creeds are there?” Curio asked.

“I am a member of zee Nourisher und Creative Creeds. Zhere are 14 recognized creeds in all
of Toril’s mind flayer communities. Of zhose 14, Oryndoll now hosts 10 of zhem.” Ellimol
grabbed two pieces of chalk and began writing their names down in Deep Speech with his
hand as well as drawing the creed’s symbol next to it with his tentacles.
“Venerator, Loretaker, Nourisher, Tamer, Creative, Gazherer, Influencer, Abysmal, Ariser,
Possessor.” Ellimol lists the creeds recognized in Oryndoll, organized from the most amount
of influence to the least amount of influence. “As for zee creeds not recognized in Oryndoll…
Vee have Awaiter, Zhorough Biter, Darkener, und Raider.” Ellimol finished writing. “Now
zhen… Shtarting viz our most influential creed!” Ellimol underlined “Venerator”.

“As you know, during zee Time of Troubles, Ilsensine, zee God-Brain, chose our elder brain
as it’s avatar. Every creed-master in the city owns a pair of Tentacle Rings of Ilselsine. It is
firmly believed zhat our city is blessed by zee God-Brain. To put it simply, Venerators are
Ilsensine’s clergy. Vee are zee only city to maintain zis creed for millenia because other
communities are more interested in scientific discovery zhan zhey are in channeling zee
power of a god.” Ellimol was in the former category. He felt that Ilsensine was too apathetic
to serve the community in any long term meaningful way. The great brain only came to guide
them during times of peril to save them from the brink of destruction. He, of course, would
never openly express this opinion to anyone.

The idea of worshiping a deity was currently unknown and foreign to Curio. He seemed
satisfied with his father’s explanation. “Please tell me about the Creative Creed?” Curio
asked.

“The Creative Creed seeks to capitalize on our expanding knowledge base by researching
und creating unique psychic disciplines, psionic items, und new technology. Notable
successes include flying craft, living troop transports, weapons, und ozher unique psionic
items.” Ellimol explained.

“Like me?” The construct asked.

“You are mein greatest creation.” Ellimol told their child. Curio’s metallic tentacles joyfully
wiggled.

“Zee Loretakers advocate a long-term shtrategy of gazhering all forms of information und
slowly depleting information held by ozher races.” Ellimol said.

“Why do they take knowledge away from others?” Curio asked.

“To make our community shtronger und veaken our rivals.” He explained.

“Why?” Curio asked.

“Because it makes us superior to zhreats like Deep Shanatar.” Ellimol answered.

“Were we not the aggressors in the Mindstalker Wars?” Curio pointed out.
“Zhat vas zousands of years ago! Zhey should just get over it already!” Ellimol said. It
wasn’t as if he was around to know what happened, nor did he feel responsible for his city’s
past.

“Moving on…” Ellimol changed the subject. “Zee Nourisher Creed are responsible for all
zhings regarding zhralls. Zhey take care of zhem, organize zhem, keep zhem docile and
ceremorph zhem to make new ceremorphs und mind flayers like yours truly. Zhe Nourisher
Creed owns all of zee menageries in Oryndoll as vell as ozher businesses like Zee Succulent
Encephalon.” He wouldn’t be bringing up The Breeding Pen. Curio didn’t need to know
about things like that yet.

Curio understood from Egar that thralls were the servants and food to illithids. They didn’t
have any further questions. Egar kept the lab and domicile spotless for their father and
assisted Ellimol in his experiments. When the nothic wasn’t performing his duties, Egar liked
to collect minerals and shiny rocks. Some of his favorite pieces were a large palm sized
sample of raw green fluorite and a smooth piece of white satin spar. Curio also took an
interest in his collection and Egar was delighted to show it off to the construct.

“Zee Tamer Creed actually was once much more powerful in Oryndoll, but because zhey
suffered high losses during zee Mindstalker Wars, zhis creed has never regained zee fortune it
once held. Tamers are responsible for our military might, defenses, weaponry und zhrall
soldiers. Zheir joint efforts viz zee Nourisher creed is how our colony acquires lizardfolk und
ceremorphs zhem into Tzakandi.” Ellimol explained.

“What do you do for the Nourisher Creed?” Curio asked. Egar snickered to himself as he
was cleaning the floors.

“Zhat isn’t really important right now.” Ellimol didn’t want to talk about his aphrodisiac
development.

Curio could tell their father wanted to drop the subject. “What of the Gatherers?” They
asked.

“Gazherers deal with immigration. Zhey believe in uniting the various mind flayer
communities as one collective. Zhey have had quite a bit of success, having brought in zee
Possessors from a colony as far north as zee Sword Coast! Almost all mindflayer activity in
Souzhwest Faerun is concentrated here in Oryndoll because of zheir efforts. Visiting mind
flayers have zheir every vhim catered to in zee Halls of Melding and its temporary
residences.” Ellimol said. He did have respect for that creed’s accomplishments, even if their
philosophies didn’t align with his own.
“Do non-illithids ever visit?” Curio asked.

“Sometimes. Zhey have to shtay at zee Skull Cup. Most visitors are people trading
information or are involved in zee brain trade.” Ellimol answered.

“Zee Influencers believe zee best way to obtain knowledge is zhrough indirect means.
Influencers wish to transform zee societies of ozher races by removing important sources of
lore. Zhey are based wizhin zee Pillars of Zhought.” Ellimol said. “Using zee brine pools,
zhey can observe zee surface and plan raids on particular pieces of lore.”

“That just sounds like the Loretaker Creed with extra steps. It seems redundant.” Curio
expressed. Ellimol laughed.

“Zee two creeds are very closely tied togezher.” Ellimol conceded. “Don’t tell zhem zat. It
vill make zhem very upset.” He made sure to warn his child.

“Abysmal means extremely bad; Appalling. Why do we have a creed based around something
like that?” Curio asked.

“I don’t know mein child, but I do not like zhem either. In zee Vaults of Terror, zhey unleash
horrors often beyond humanoid comprehension. Zheir entire creed revolves around
terrorizing and torturing ozher races. Zhey believe zhat fear of mind flayers vill bring
everyone to heel under us. I think zhey are nasty and zheir experiments viz nerve swimmers
are distasteful. I do not vant to talk about zhose freaks!” Ellimol clearly was upset just
thinking about them.

“They sound like they live up to their appalling reputation. I will not ask any further
questions about them.” Curio said.

“Anyway! Enough about zhem… Arisers seek exclusive knowledge from zee surface realms.
One of our sister colonies, Tellectus, vas founded by zhis creed to gain access to and raid zee
great library of Candlekeep. Zhey create all kinds of inventions to make venturing out on zee
sunlit surface easier. Vhile I respect zheir bravery, I am perfectly fine shtaying down here… I
sometimes peruse zheir collections of surface lore and zhat is good enough for me.” The
thought of being on the surface was scary to Ellimol. Think of the horrid diseases one could
contract up there!

“What is the surface like?” Curio asked.

“Very bright. Your eyes can actually handle it vizhout any reduction in visual ability. Mein
can not.” Ellimol responded. It was a feature that made Ellimol’s project of interest to the
Ariser Creed, but Ellimol was reluctant to send his child on any expeditions. Curio wasn’t
ready for it yet.
“Our smallest creed viz only 25 members are zee Possessors.” They had 27 but Ellimol did
not explicitly mention they had lost two this year. “Zhey believe vealth is zee single most
important element in achieving utter dominance. Simply put, zhey zhink having a lot of
currency and material value allows one to buy anyzhing. I don’t know about zhat but, I vill
concede zee sponsored bazaar has improved commerce an access to goods zhat vee
previously haven’t had!” Ellimol had a fair bit of respect for this small and ambitious creed
and wondered what luxuries and marvels their presence could bring to Oryndoll. He wished
them the best in their goals.

“What about the creeds that are not in Oryndoll?” Curio asked.

“Zee Raiders are from Ch’chitl. Zhey are a combination of that city’s Tamer and Possessor
creed but seem like little more zhan bandits to me…” Ellimol didn’t really care about Ch’chitl
and its extremely xenophobic illithids. They didn’t even have any immigration policies for
foreign illithids, and a lot of their choices seemed made out of desperation after their elder
brain died and the cabal of alhoon necromancers took over.

“Awaiters? Zheir whole zhing is zhat zhey take forever to do anyzhing! I believe zhere is a
fine line between careful planning und vasting time.” It took him 6 years to create Curio and
couldn’t imagine dealing with plans that spanned literally decades.

“Zhorough Biters are losers who believe new concepts can only be learned by failing… I vill
concede zhat it took a lot of trial und error to create you und your existence vas not
intentional, but vee von’t tell anyone zhat.” Ellimol said.

“Why not?” Curio asked. They did not understand why it mattered if their birth was on
purpose or not.

“Vee must maintain an appearance of competence und purpose, mein child. It is so ozhers
vill like you better. You can be yourself as much as you like in zee privacy of zhis domicile,
but vee must posture ourselves in certain vays vhen vee leave zhese rooms. Fitting in is
important or vee von’t get anyvhere in life.” Ellimol said. It felt like a cruel thing to say to his
child, but he wanted so desperately to protect Curio from the harm others could inflict on
them.

“I see. I want to be liked, father.” Curio confirmed that they would not tell anyone they were
created accidentally. “And the last creed?” They asked to keep the conversation going.

“Darkeners are a bunch of dummkopfs!” Ellimol laughed. “Zhey vill never ever be taken
seriously in Oryndoll or recognized as a legitimate creed. Zhis is because zhey vant to block
out zee sun because zhey hate zee light so much!” Ellimol thought very little of this creed.
“Father, would that not simply end up killing most of the thralls and life on Toril in
general?” Curio asked.

“It vould, mein child! An astute observation. God-Brain forbid you tell zhem zhat life giving
greenhouses require light to UV operate. Zhey get laughed out of Oryndoll quite quickly, so
vee don’t have to suffer zee psychic damage of zheir idiocy.” Ellimol agreed with Curio,
poking a bit of fun at this creed.

Ellimol erased the writing on the chalkboard and wheeled it back into storage. “Zhat’s all for
today’s lesson! Next time, I vill try to arrange to take you on… A valk outside.” He sounded a
bit nervous about that.

“Why do you almost never leave the domicile, father?” Curio asked.

“Unlike you, vee don’t have metal skin und an immunity to diseases. Some diseases can make
flesh und blood creatures very sick…” He tried to explain.

“You contracted an illness?” Curio asked.

“Ya. I almost died! I vas never zee same. I used to have darker skin zhan zhis… Ugly pale
shade…” Ellimol said.

Curio cocked their head slightly to the side, wondering why their creator would call
themselves ugly. “I do not think you are ugly. I am of a similar color. Am I ugly?” Curio
pondered, looking at their metallic arm. Ellimol was moved by their child’s kind words even
when they were delivered in a robotic monotone.

“Nein. You are not ugly. I should consider mein vords more carefully before I say zhem.”
Ellimol didn’t want his child to learn self loathing from him. It was a bad habit he resolved to
break. “Zhank you for saying zhat I am not ugly… Zee reason I don’t go outside is because I
don’t vant to become sick again. Not like zhat…” He explained his reclusive behavior.

Egar was listening in but staying out of the way to avoid getting his master’s attention. He
truthfully did wish his master’s mental health would improve, if only for the fact that he
probably wouldn’t have to clean so damn much! “I see. I am sorry that happened to you. You
do not have to engage in discomforting activities if you do not want to.” Curio didn’t want
his creator to get hurt again.

“But I must, mein child. For you to mature, grow und learn… Vee all must do zhings zhat
scare us at some point in our lives. I am entrusted viz guiding you in zhose goals. I can
handle it. I just need to prepare proper precautions for going out.” Ellimol would tough it
out for Curio.
It was his duty, not only as Curio’s creator but as their parent.
 Erotic Dominance Tournament: Round 1
Chapter Summary

It's the beginning of the High Tier Erotic Dominance Tournament! Will Vizaness defeat
her first opponent?

Today was the first round of the Erotic Dominance Tournaments! The tournament brackets
each contained between 8 to 16 competitors. The low tier is for less experienced thralls and
Nourisher creed breeders. The Low Tier contained 10 competitors this year. The mid tier is
where things start getting fun. Zusrall and for the last 6 years, Vizaness were on this tier.
Zusrall opted not to participate this year, reducing the number of yearly participants from 12
to 10. Finally, the high tier is a nepotistic gathering of Oryndoll's elites and their degenerate
debauchery. They had 16 competitors.

Compared to Vizaness, all the other competitors are elites. She was feeling like a tadpole out
of the brine pool as she entered the Noble’s Section of The Breeding Pen with Kalamash and
Oceana. Oceana wanted to watch, of course. Vizaness quickly noticed Zusrall among those
joining the spectators. “Zusrall?? What are you doing here? Who invited you?” Vizaness
asked him, approaching him.

“Vebeva invited me.” Zusrall informed her. “What? You don’t want me to watch you
compete?” He asked. Vizaness’ eyes widened.

“She doesn’t even like Erotic Dominance Tournaments. Why is she here?” She asked him.

“She said she wanted to see you lose.” Zusrall said bluntly.

“Oh, I could air out her dirty robes. She does not want to play those kinds of games with
me.” Vizaness told him.

“Ohohoho! Putting words in my mouth are we?” Vebeva came up behind Zusrall, lightly
smacking Zusrall on the head with an elegant fan she had folded up. Zusrall winced at the
sudden reprimanding even if it didn’t actually cause him any harm.

“I said I wanted to see if it was possible for you to lose. There’s a fine line between rooting
for your demise and merely seeing if it’s possible!” Vebeva explained herself in a smug
manner.
“As for me, I’m merely curious to see how the elites compete.” Zusrall explained his reason
for accepting Vebeva’s invitation. As much as he enjoyed teasing her, she had actually beaten
him twice in two prior tournaments in the middle tier. It didn’t take long for them to notice
one of the big competitors. Vizaness saw another tall sharply dressed ulitharid. Her robes
were pristine and almost princely. She was of a deep teal color with a pinkish ombre on her
six tentacles. With her, she had her hobgoblin champion, a beefy red skinned woman named
Shogala the Grand.

“Looks like Selessk is here to settle her tie with our boss…” Vizaness observed her. “They’re
currently tied 5 for 5.” She tells Zusrall. She keeps up the scores more than Zusrall did.

“So their match will likely be the tiebreaker.” Zusrall noted. It was entirely possible for
matches to end in draws after all. It was all subject to the judges. Vizaness felt a bit of
nervousness when Selessk approached her.

“Well, well. The mid tier champion made it to the big league.” Selessk said. “I didn’t know
we let second rate duelists in here.” Selessk taunted, side-eyeing Zusrall.

“I noticed everyone frequently bullies the people I invite. What do you suppose that means?”
Vebeva pondered.

“Every court needs a jester, Vebeva.” Selessk said smugly. Shogala stared Kalamash down,
who was completely oblivious to her intent to intimidate him. Zusrall blushed, clearly
unamused. His thrall knew damn well that this was a superior from Zusrall’s own creed, so he
just had to sit there and take it. If it had been anyone else beneath him, they wouldn’t let
anyone talk to him that way.

“It’s good to see some fresh meat in the arena.” The champion smirked. Kalamash gave her a
warm and kind smile.

“Good luck!” Kalamash held out his hand for her to shake it. Shogala gave it a firmer than
normal squeeze that would make any man whimper but Kalamash seemed unbothered. “You
have a strong grip. My home tribe would like you.” He complimented.

“Try not to lose in the first round, Vizaness. Some of my thralls came from your menagerie so
you better show everyone my purchases were worthy picks.” Selessk said. Vizaness had no
intention of losing the first round. Although her opponent would be randomly chosen, she
absolutely had no intention of losing the first round. Vizaness had been researching her
opponents and their personal thralls.
“Maybe my opponents will actually be challenging for once.” Vizaness’ tentacles curled
smugly, approaching Selessk’s cynical tone with bravado.

“Nice sentiments, but talk is cheap.” Selessk told her. “I hope that you can back it up.” She
taunted before going to mingle with the other guests and competitors. Oceana had hid behind
her mistress, trying to escape Selessk’s notice.

“She’s kind of scary, isn’t she?” Oceana asked.

“Wow. I’m surprised how well you handled that.” Vebeva casually remarked. The mind
games that ulitharids played with their rivals were often more intense than those played by
common illithids.

“You’ve given me plenty of practice.” Vizaness admitted.

“Oh ho ho! So glad I could help.” Vebeva joked. Zusrall wouldn’t openly admit to rooting
for Vizaness. Letting her get an inflated ego wouldn’t do her any good. Like Zusrall, his thrall
was also interested in seeing how the top tier competes.

“Good luck, Kalamash!” They rooted for him. Kalamash thanked them. Although he had
never participated in an erotic dominance tournament, the concept was simple enough. The
more skilled lover wins. He trusted Vizaness unquestionably. He knew his bond with her was
strong. Surely they would be able to put up a good fight.

Vizaness didn’t see all of the competitors present yet. She wondered where everyone else
was.

“We’re expecting the remaining competitors to show up shortly.” A Breeder Named

Slisskbax informed Vizaness.

“Not that it matters. You’ll all lose soon enough.” Selessk chimed in.

“Bold words for someone with an unbroken tie.” A Breeder Named Slisskbax responded. As
everyone else started arriving, the competitors were getting their thralls ready in the private
rooms.

“Are you nervous, Mistress?” Kalamash asked.

“Of course not!” She lied. It wasn’t hard to lie to him. She didn’t want him to worry about
her.
“I’m glad. I feel like we can do anything together.” He held her close. She blushed at the
affection he was giving her.

“Kalamash, no matter what happens…” She had difficulty finding the words. She pressed
her forehead against his. Kalamash closed his eyes, leaning into it. He felt warmth that was
unconditional. Even if they lost she would love him.

“I’ll always give you my best…” Kalamash whispered to her.

“I’ll give you mine as well.” Vizaness promised.

When everyone had arrived, it was announced that the tournament would begin! An illithid
employee helping to organize the tournament was in front of a large hand cranked mechanism
with their personal male drow thrall. There were numbered balls within the machine that
would dispense as the handle was cranked. “The matchups for the first round will be chosen
by lottery! To guarantee fairness, each pair of opponents will be selected at random. You’ve
all been assigned a number 1 through 16! All of the balls are of equal size and weight to
ensure 100% randomness.” They ensured the competitors. “Let us begin with the selection!”
They commanded their thrall to turn the handle, who did so with gusto.

The number 10 ball rolled out of the machine followed by the number 2. “Vizaness VS Svel!”
The announcer called. Next was the number 5 followed by 15. “Slezzimask VS Thegrian!”
The number 12 and 7 rolled out. “Gun VS Adrul!” Next was 11 and 3. “Selessk VS
Vunkeks!” Number 6 and 14 were called. “Treduvekt VS Cusril!” Cusril sighed with relief
that he hadn’t gotten matched up with a creed-master this round. Vunkeks was absolutely
screwed. 8 and 16 were rolled. “Uopheress VS Rezzix!” 4 and 1 were rolled. “Zuphivull Vs
Qhosk! The remaining numbers belong to Kedram and A Breeder Named Slisskbax!” The
announcer finished pairing off the competitors for the first round.

“The competitors must report to the arena rooms immediately.” The announcer got everyone
moving to their rooms. Vebeva was getting seated with her thralls in the observation area.
Thralls were offering snacks and beverages to the spectators. Zusrall was unable to get a front
row seat. Oceana was seated next to Whim to mentally cheer on her mistress. Svel was an
illithid breeder in the top 10% known for favoring elves. Their menagerie boasted a wide
variety of elven varieties including a sea elf from the Sea of Fallen Stars. The champion they
chose was a szarkai drow woman named Eiravel. Her pale alabaster white skin was flawless.

“You’re way out of your league, Vizaness. I’m whole ranks ahead of you!” Svel taunted,
attempting to shake her resolve before the match.
“I’ve seen bigger upsets in these tournaments than you.” Vizaness kept her cool. A lot of the
attendees wondered why she didn’t sign up with the platinum thrall that made her eligible in
the first place. Could a gold thrall really hold up to the platinum thralls?

After everyone was gathered into the arena rooms, the judges of each room announced that
the match would begin now! Kalamash allowed his mistress into his mind. Just as they
practiced. Eiravel was not just an opponent. He needed to make her feel really good if they
wanted to win. Vizaness knew that the easiest erogenous zone to find on any elf was the ears.
She made Kalamash reach for the albino drow’s ears and gently rub the lobes of them.
Eiravel blushed, sighing softly. Before she could reach for his cock in an attempt to start
chipping away at his defenses, Kalamash kissed her passionately.

“Leave it to my mistress to figure out her opponent’s weaknesses.” Oceana quietly

commented with a smug smile.

“The match just started, even if she has proven her aptitude between us. Don’t get too cocky.”
Whim reminded her. Eiravel felt herself reaching down and gently stroking his cock. She
wondered how big it was as it slowly began to harden in her hand. It made her a little
nervous. He wasn’t called Choking Hazard for no reason, and yet there was something
thrilling about it… This was an opponent she’d normally never get to breed with.

Svel found themself curious about what exactly they were up against as well, directing their
thrall to look at it. “Oh my Tentacled Lord…” Svel thought. He knew half-orcs tended to be a
bit larger than the average human but it was the girthiest nine inches he’d ever seen!

“Don’t worry, Master. We can handle this elegantly, right?” Eiravel was so in tune with her
master, she could sense their apprehension. She started to sensually lick the tip of it. Slowly
she starts to take it into her mouth, eliciting a purr of approval from Vizaness. The elf
couldn’t even fit half of it into her mouth but Vizaness had to give her credit for trying.

“I’ve never had anything this big, so please be gentle with me.” She informed Kalamash.

“I hear that a lot. Mistress showed me how to be gentle.” Kalamash told her. Vizaness made
Kalamash pull her into his lap. Eiravel gasped softly, surprised by his strength. Eiravel
personally didn’t care if she won or lost. This was her first ever Erotic Dominance
tournament as well. The adventure of it all was more than enough for her. The elf sensually
pulled him into another kiss.
The sensuality of elves was admittedly appealing to Kalamash even if he embraced more a
wild passion, but they often rejected him both in his surface life and down here in Oryndoll.
Elzaphir was a notable exception. Kalamash teased her, slowly sticking his index and middle
fingers into her pussy to warm her up. His mistress would help him show off just how smooth
he could be. Eiravel and Svel moaned at the same time as his fingers entered her. The pale elf
held onto him. Svel needed to let her get more worked up in order to make this work. “M-
mm! Master, are you daring enough to let me try and take this cock?” Eiravel asked her
master.

Their cheeks flushed pale. Svel didn’t want to look like a wuss in front of everyone! “Aren’t
you going to answer your thrall’s question?” Vizaness taunted.

“Alright, but it’s a foul if you hurt her!” Svel allowed Kalamash to lay their thrall onto her
back. It’s not as if they had the strength to resist if they wanted to, right? They trusted they
could tell if she was in discomfort. They trusted her to know her limits.

Kalamash kissed the pale elf’s lips before slowly pushing his cock halfway inside of her
pussy. Eiravel moaned as Kalamash thrust into her at a gentle pace. “S-so good!” She was
taking right to him. Zusrall’s thrall ended up starting to feel aroused. Watching a thrall try
Kalamash for the first time was always fun.

“You’re absolutely insatiable…” Zusrall playfully scolded them. His tentacles started
wandering to his thrall’s body as they spectated. It wasn’t at all unusual for the spectators to
get a little frisky as well.

Eiravel loved being pleasured by the larger thrall plowing into her. She was determined to
take as much as he was willing to give her. “Oh yes! Give me that big green cock!” She
groaned. It always got Svel so hot and bothered when she talked dirty like that. Svel gurgled
soft swears in Deep Speech. Vizaness purred approvingly as she felt Kalamash pleasuring the
opposing thrall.

“That’s it! Good boy!” Vizaness praised. She was almost jealous of her opponent. She often
entered the minds of other thralls because she so badly wanted Kalamash to use her.

His mistress’ praise combined with the other thrall begging for more made him eager to
please. For Svel, this was the most experimental match they had ever been in, but they
certainly weren’t complaining. “He’s got that elf addicted to him. It’s already over.” Natiri
quietly whispered to Whim. Their mistress had only lost the casual match Whim participated
in because Vizaness failed to tell her all the rules, not that he doubted Kalamash’s endurance.
“Can I cum inside?” Kalamash asked his opponent.

“Yes! Yes! Fill me up!” Eiravel answered before her master could even confirm if it was
alright. Their control of their thrall was slipping as Kalamash picked up the pace. They didn’t
have a problem with Kalamash doing that but, they wouldn’t even get the chance to
strengthen their hold over their thrall. Vizaness and Kalamash moved as one, grabbing her
hips and fucking her senseless. Svel was left a shivvering, purring mess. All they could do
was try to outlast this thrall having their way with their most prized elf.

It was no wonder to the spectators that Kalamash was an escort. It felt too good. Svel was
completely unprepared for the deep and powerful orgasm their thrall would have. They’d
never cum so hard before and they realized their link had broken. Kalamash pulled out and a
thick glob of cum spilled out of the dripping szarkai. “Aah… There’s so much…!” She
giggled.

“Svel has fallen off! The winner is Vizaness!” The judge declared!

“Crap! I lost! How could I lose to a 30%-er amateur with my rarest thrall!?” Svel threw a
small temper tantrum, slapping their tentacle against the moss mattress with a pale face.

Oceana was cheering for her, applauding her victory! “I knew she could do it!”

“She got lucky that her opponent had no experience with… Larger loads…” Vebeva
commented. Eiravel felt a little bad that she caused her master to lose. She crawled over to
check on them.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do better, Master…” She apologized with a pout. Svel looked at their
thrall. They couldn’t stand to see that face looking sad. They leaned in and bumped her
forehead gently with theirs.

“You’re still my greatest treasure, Eiravel.” Svel told her. They slowly got up, getting over
their feelings.

Svel approached his opponent and shook Vizaness’ hand. “In the thirteen years I’ve been
entering tournaments, I must say I have never been thrashed so soundly in the first round.”
Svel has never once lost round one. They had always at least made it to the second round.
Their very first time in the middle tier brought them to first place and they had frequently
gotten third place in the high tier and even made it to second place once.

“If you ever want a private thrashing, you know where to find me. Your thrall would like that,
wouldn’t they?” Vizaness teased.
“We’ll consider it. If you get paired up with Selessk, I'll be sure to watch her crush you.” Svel
embraced the banter. The participating thralls were cleaned up. Kalamash certainly earned a
nice long bath and his favorite snacks. There was a day between rounds to allow the thralls of
the competitors to rest up for the next. Vizaness mingled with Zusrall and Vebeva while
waiting for the results and the next round matchups to be announced.

Her next opponent would either be Slezzimask or Thegrian. A tiefling thrall was working to
update the tournament bracket for everyone to see. Her tentacles curled as she saw herself
move up the bracket. “I doubt the rest of your opponents will be that easy.” Zusrall
commented. He had honestly tuned everything out around him after his thrall had gotten
worked up. The bracket was slowly updating.

Slezzimask had put up a brave effort but Thegrian bested them. Thegrian would be her next
opponent. Thegrian liked surface dwarves, specifically gold dwarves. Their traditional culture
as stalwart warriors and shrewd traders meant that he bred and sold them as merchant
companions, bodyguards and gladiators. Every single thrall he owned had at least a gold
collar. They would be facing a male gold dwarf.

“You have a tough opponent, but Kalamash is just as tough!” Oceana cheered her on.

“Thank you for your kind words, Oceana.” Vizaness said, affectionately running her fingers
through her hair. Vizaness looked at the tournament bracket when it was fully updated. The
announcing illithid got on the stage

“Round 2 will have the following matchups! Vizaness VS Thegrian!” Vizaness gave her
opponent a determined glance. “Adrul VS Selessk!” It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that
Selessk destroyed her first opponent. “Cusril VS Rezzix!” In Treduvekt and Cusril’s match,
they had to go for three rounds before the judges finally declared Cusril the winner.
“Zuphivull VS A Breeder Named Slisskbax!” The announcer finishes announcing the next
round’s competitors. “Congratulations to all the winners!”

“You’re going against one of Oryndoll’s most prestigious breeders of exotic dwarves…”
Zusrall commented. Dwarves were stubborn, often in a way that Zusrall didn’t find fun, but
he respected any breeder who could deal with them.

“Duh? Do you think I went into this tournament without studying my opponents?” Vizaness
rolled her eyes.
“Then you should know that his champion has been siring purebred gold dwarves since
before you were ceremorphed.” That was far from an easy thing to achieve due to the
monogamous nature of most dwarves. It was exceptionally rare to have a dwarf in an erotic
dominance tournament.

“His opponent is male so if that’s supposed to scare me, it doesn’t.” Vizaness said in a
lighthearted tone. She knew her opponent had a lot of experience. She wouldn’t let it scare
her after the promise she and Kalamash made to each other today.

They would give each other their best no matter who they faced.
 What is This? What are We?
Chapter Summary

Karlux and Kan confess their feelings to each other on a sleepy vacation day.

Karlux and Kan had a unique living arrangement in the city of Oryndoll. The two of them
were as thick as thieves their whole lives. They shared the same ceremorphosis date. They
lived in the same domicile well into adulthood. They even shared a personal thrall, a
quaggoth they called Teddi to guard them on their mercantile expeditions. The two of them
were home, enjoying a well earned vacation before they would have to go out into the
Underdark once more. There wouldn't be any more expeditions to Sshamath for several
months after the loss of Addanil.

Karlux and Kan were called by many working class illithids the Merchant Heroes of
Oryndoll. Together, the two of them were able to orchestrate a plan to steal a large spice
shipment. After their wildly successful heist, they were given 10 bonus vacation days as a
reward. The illithids in the Possessor Creed got 15 vacation days per year. Their creed-master
was rather upset over the sale of Maybelle. It was the principal of the matter! Why tell him a
thrall wasn’t for sale if they would end up being sold to someone else later!?

They missed Maybelle too but they would get over it. There were plenty of other nice thralls
at The Breeding Pen. Today, however, the two of them decided they would stay in. Not even
Teddi lifted a finger during their vacations. Their morning started with Karlux waking up in
his bunk. They slept in a bunk moss bed. Their beds were built into carved out alcoves of
equal size. They even had a little reading nook filled with moss and cushions with a little
book shelf built into it. Karlux slept in the top bunk. The gnome ceremorph’s roommate, Kan,
slept on the bottom bunk.

He sleepily rolled out of bed, silently catching himself mid air with his levitation. He left the
bedroom to prepare a warm and simple breakfast for them. Warmed up rothe broth and
diatryma eggs. Their thrall, Teddi, was sound asleep, hugging one of his many stuffed dolls.
Even Teddi would have a helping of egg mixed into his food this morning. “Hey, Kan…
Kan…” Karlux shook him. He could be such a deep sleeper sometimes. “Kan!!” Karlux
lightly slapped his cheek.
“Hrmgh…” Kan woke up and wrapped a tentacle around Karlux, tiredly pulling him into bed
with him and giving him a hug.

“Aw, come on, you big lug! I made breakfast! It’s going to get cold!” Karlux weakly wiggled
in his grasp. His cheeks flushed slightly. Kan released him and levitated out of his bedding,
wearing a silk chemise. Teddi ate his food out of a bowl on the floor while the two mind
flayers ate at the breakfast table together. Karlux had a custom booster seat. Kan was reading
a qualith tablet. A publication he had sent to him every month.

“You’re reading one of those gossip tabs again? You know those things are nothin’ but
defamation and disinformation, right?” Karlux quirked a brow at him.

“I’m well aware that many of the stories written here are often garbage half-truths. I just find
it amusing.” Kan admitted.

“We don’t even know who’s writin’ those things! The publisher’s never been found. I think it’s
some kind of conspiracy to lower the intellect of the illithids that read ‘em!” Karlux said.

“Probably, but you have to admit that stories titled ‘Sex Crazed Debauchery Among The
Nobility!’ certainly might have some plausibility to it based on our own experiences. I don’t
take anything written in this junk at face value.” Kan said.

Karlux thought back to their trips to the private baths. “I’m going to be devastated if anything
happens to Maybelle while she’s in Srebral’s ownership…” Karlux admitted.

“She will be fine. If anyone can fix him, it’s her. She did wonders for our stress levels.” Kan
wasn’t at all worried.

“You’re probably right… I wish our boss would get that through his head. He ranted quite a
bit about the whole thing.” Karlux absentmindedly recalled. “Don’t worry about it. We’re
already working on finding him something new for him to obsess over.” Kan said

“How’d we end up playing matchmaker for some old pervert? I mean it pays well so I’m not
complaining, but it’s just funny how life goes, isn’t it?” Karlux pondered to his friend.

“Great minds think alike.” Kan responded. It wasn’t as if they weren’t a couple of perverts
too. They were actually hoping Aphrayaozu wouldn’t buy her so they could keep sharing her.
They had to find a new thrall for themselves to share.
They liked Elzaphir but getting an appointment with him took far too long for their liking.
"Maybe we should just take the plunge and get an escort instead of a bathing thrall.” Karlux
proposed.

“We could always look into that tomorrow. I’ve got nothing planned.” Kan agreed. After
breakfast, Kan decided he would read something more mentally stimulating than the gossip
tab. He also enjoyed reading intelligently written romance novels. Karlux would often sit
next to him, reading his own book since he often didn’t care for that “mushy crap”. This time,
Karlux decided to give one of his books another chance. It was only fair, because Kan read
one of his books yesterday.

Karlux noticed lately that when they relaxed, reading books together or counting coins or
doing anything really, that they’ve been getting closer. He laid on his side among the pillows
in the reading nook with Kan. He wasn’t really focusing on what his taller roommate was
saying all that much, but the sound of his voice disarmed him. It relaxed him. He was holding
his tentacle close to his chest.

“’You’re here,’ he repeated, taking her hand and drawing it against his chest, right above his
pounding heartbeat. ‘In my heart. Somehow, you crashed your way into it when I wasn’t
looking, but you’re here now, inside. Arabelle, you’re the very life of me.'” Karlux read.

“Kan…? I felt strange when you read that passage…” Karlux admitted. Kan looked at his
friend, concerned he was beginning to feel ill at first.

“Are you alright, my friend?” Kan asked. “Your heart rate is increasing.” He could feel the
thumping of his heart through his tentacle on his chest.

“What is this? What are we to each other?” Karlux boldly asked him. Inside he felt terrified
that he was going too far. He thought a lot about Maybelle’s encouraging words to him over
the past year about being himself since they joined the Possessor Creed.

“What do you want us to be? There’s no wrong answer.” Kan asked with a reassuring tone.

“I’m not very good at this mushy crap… I don’t do feelings. What I mean is I don’t cope with
feelings…” Karlux rambled.

Kan curled up beside him, wrapping his tentacles and arms around him. Karlux’s face turned
white. “Take all the time you need. We’re on vacation.” Kan held Karlux close to him.
They’d been becoming more intimate than ever since starting this vacation. He nuzzled
himself against Kan. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into Kan’s calm vibes.
“What am I to you?” Karlux asked, trying to get a more direct answer.

“My partner. My team mate. My closest friend. You are the pit fiend on my shoulder.” Kan
answered light-heartedly.

“And you’re the deva on mine.” Karlux’s tentacles curled.

“You want to be more than friends…” Kan pointed out.

“Well! I mean, the fact that we’re both frequently fucking the same thrall is bound to make
our brains do wacky things…!” Karlux attempted to show some reason, begging for some
logic to his actions and thoughts.

“You’re normally such a shrewd negotiator, yet here you are already trying to back out.” Kan
gently taunted him, goading him into pushing forward.

“I just… I want what the people in your books have… Sometimes I think about having it with
you.” Karlux never felt more vulnerable in his life.

He got comfortable pulling Karlux into his lap. He picked up the book and resumed reading.

“‘And here is where I hope to stay, Lord Branwynth.’” He resumed. Karlux reached up with
his short tentacles and grasped the book, pulling it from his grip.

“I want to hear it in your own words!” Karlux insisted, his cheeks flushed.

“How about in my own feelings, first?” Kan asked. Karlux allowed Kan to pull him closer to
his face and their foreheads softly touched.

It was warm. It was comforting. It was mutual, soft and growing sensual. Karlux wrapped his
stubby tentacles around Kan’s firmly. Kan’s tentacles were just slightly more than three times
the length of Karlux’s tentacles. He let Kan pull his casual robes off of his shoulders. The
taller mind flayer’s fingers rub down his back gently. Karlux chirred softly at the sensation.

“Your feelings wrap around me like a warm blanket… I thought you’d never ask.” Kan
confessed.

“You… You felt this way the whole time and you didn’t tell me? It would have saved me a lot
of grief if you told me earlier!” Karlux scolded.
“Like you, I also feared rejection… The friendship we share is deeply important to me.” Kan
said.

“Are you kiddin’ me!? Kan, anyone would be lucky to commune with you! Show me more.
Please.” Karlux begged.

“You’re my passion. My fire. My adventure…” Continuing to answer his question.

“You’re my calm. My ice. My refuge…” Karlux began sharing what the other was to him.
Every weakness was covered by the other. Every short coming they had as individuals, they
made up for together.

Everything they built together belonged to one another. Most illithids would eventually
sabotage the other if left to their own devices, but Karlux and Kan were happy sharing
everything they had with one another. They read each other like an open book.

“My love…” They said simultaneously. They found themselves blushing.

“I don’t know how open we can be about this.” Karlux admitted. “It feels deeply personal.”
He voiced his concerns.

“Every moment we have alone feels like our own little headspace sometimes. We can keep
this all to ourselves. It can be our secret treasure.” Kan agreed.

Kan fully embraced this feeling he was sensing. His concerns melted away and his desire for
acceptance was satisfied.

“Let me take away your worries and stress. Let me fill that empty space.” Kan told him
softly. “I know that you would do the same for me.” They had a blanket in their reading nook.
Sometimes Karlux fell asleep to a good book. He liked historical fiction and short stories.

Kan pulled the blanket over them, settling among the cushions with Karlux. “Would you keep
reading to me? I want to fall asleep with your voice in my mind…” Karlux said.

“But we woke up not that long ago.” Kan pointed out.

“I think I woke up too early.” Karlux did get up before everyone to make breakfast, after all.

“That’s valid… Rest as much as you want to.” Kan whispered in his mind. Kan continued
reading, stroking his clawed fingertips gently against his roommate’s back as Karlux rested
with him.

Karlux purred softly, his mind drifting off to the sound of Kan’s voice reading to him. Kan
looked down when he realized he was hearing soft snoring. He placed a bookmark in the
book and wrapped his arms around the sleeping gnome ceremorph. Karlux stirred slightly.

“Love you…” He said tiredly

“I love you too, old friend.” Kan responded.

Two illithids in Oryndoll shared everything together. Their home, their thrall, their wealth
and now their hearts.
 The House Thrall that Misses His Master
Chapter Summary

Presmer gets upset and jealous that his master stays out all night long and leaves him
alone all day.

Presmer was basically pampered living in Edorengu’s domicile. Brylwyn was ordered to get
him anything he wanted. He had ready access to his favorite foods at any time. He got to do
embroidery projects as much as he wanted. Sometimes he found himself working on a pattern
all day long. Every once in a while he would get bored and help the duergar with some small
chores. She wasn’t very talkative to him and he mostly left her alone. As far as the duergar
was concerned, his feelings were Edorengu’s problem. Not hers.

He spent his days mostly by himself and at night, Edorengu would come home to him, but
not all was rosy. Edorengu’s long hours left him staying up, waiting for his master to return.
Sometimes he passed out waiting for him when Edorengu was out with his friends all night
doing God-Brain knows what. It was another one of those nights. Edorengu went to bed
without so much as saying a word to Presmer because the thrall had already passed out.

Presmer awoke to the smell of rothe sausage. He tiredly pulled on his robes. The human
wondered if Edorengu would even bother joining him for breakfast, he slowly ate, looking
tired. Edorengu sat down at the table with him. “Good morning, Presmer.” Edorengu greeted
his new thrall. There was no response from him. “Presmer?” He asked again to no response.
“Cease ignoring me!”

“Why not? You ignore me...” Presmer grumbled. Edorengu’s eyes widened. Brylwyn covered
her mouth at her new roommate’s insolence. He’d only had this thrall for a tenday and he was
already acting up!

“Excuse me!? I work nonstop to give you a comfortable life! You…! You…!” Edorengu was
so incensed he couldn’t even think of an insult. How could he be so ungrateful!?

“Go stand in the corner!” Edorengu commanded him. Somehow Presmer’s will was
stronger.
“No!” He sat in his chair, crossing his arms. “You’re probably too busy to discipline me
yourself anyway…” Presmer glared at him. Edorengu had never felt such anger in years. He
stood from his chair and forced Presmer up with levitation. He dragged Presmer by his collar
into the sitting room. He yanked Presmer’s robes up and draped him over his knee in a
leather chair. He intended to give Presmer a spanking.

He raised his hand, intending to lay into his supple ass cheeks. It hovered, shaking. Why
couldn’t he bring himself to do it? Presmer tensed, shivering and whimpering. He jumped a
little when Edorengu gently rested his hand on his bottom. There had to be a better way than
hitting him. A better way than sending him to Zusrall for training. A better way than scaring
him. “What in the hells am I doing…?” He turned Presmer over in his lap and held him.

“I don’t want to be like this. I can’t. I won’t, but I need you to talk to me, Presmer.” He
noticed Presmer was starting to cry. He wiped the human’s tears away. “Why are you acting
like this?” He sounded calm once more.

“I miss you! You don’t think I get lonely when you’re out all day and night? I don’t care
about things! I want you…” He looked at Edorengu with a sad expression. Edorengu was
taken aback. He knew he should have seen it coming, but this was a huge oversight!

“This is new to me. I’m not used to anyone actually waiting for me when I get home…”
Edorengu embraced his thrall. “I take it Brylwyn hasn’t been the most welcoming either?”
He sighed softly.

“She’s not mean to me… I just think she prefers to be alone, so I try not to bother her too
much.” Presmer said. Presmer’s thoughts were painted with sadness. “I’m sorry I was bad.
Please don’t send me back!” Presmer begged, hugging Edorengu. “You can stay out as late as
you want! I just-” Edorengu cut him off with a tentacle to his lips.

“No, Presmer. It’s my fault for not considering that my thrall could end up with separation
anxiety. I’m sorry I made you feel ignored and unloved.” Edorengu said. “I can’t not work. It
is necessary for our survival, but I will try to come home earlier from now on.” He offered.

“You should be able to hang out with your friends too. It wouldn’t be very nice to keep you
all to myself…” Presmer pouted.

“Perhaps I will keep those outings more scheduled from now on.” Edorengu compromised.

“Today is actually my day off, you know… Would you like to spend it with me?” Edorengu
asked.
“Yes. Please?” Presmer looked at Edorengu with a hopeful smile.

“Alright. But first…” Edorengu grabbed Presmer’s bare ass. “You still have to be punished
for your bad behavior.” He teased his thrall.

“Do you mean actual punishment or… S-Something else?” Presmer asked. His cheeks
flushed, as he sought clarification.

“Well that all depends on whether you’re a good boy for me or not.” His illithid master
answered.

“What happens if I’m naughty?” Presmer asked, straddling his master in the chair. There was
a growing bulge in his robes. He was wearing nothing underneath them.

“Do you really think Vizaness handed you off to me without telling me your weaknesses?”
Edorengu pointed out. Presmer only got harder at the threat of having his psyche used against
him.

“Touché…” Presmer agreed. “I’ll be a good boy for you…” He whispered. Brylwyn just
tuned the two of them out in the kitchen. She didn’t care if their food got cold, but if they
didn’t finish before leaving, she’d be tossing it into the trash.

Edorengu took Presmer into his thrall’s room and shut the door behind them. He directed
Presmer onto his bed, making him get on his knees and started forcefully removing his robes.
The lack of control over his own nudity let Edorengu see that he was incredibly aroused.
“Look at yourself.” He turned Presmer to face a newly installed mirror above the desk that
faced his bed. “Look how naughty your mind is…”

Presmer’s face turned red as he looked at his erection in the mirror. He enjoyed watching his
master do these things to him.

“I can’t help it when you do things like this to me…” Presmer groaned. Edorengu reached for
his cock with a tentacle, wrapping it around the shaft sensually.

“I suppose you can’t be blamed for that…” Edorengu conceded. He never thought he would
ever entertain such thoughts. Presmer ignited a long buried ember within him. It had been a
long time since a thrall had ever made him feel angry, but he was discovering new emotions
as well. Feelings he couldn’t describe. It was warm and passionate. He felt like a younger
illithid. He would admonish anyone calling him old, of course! He still had half his life span
left!
“What are you going to do to me, Master…?” Presmer asked softly. Edorengu bound his arms
behind his back with another tentacle.

“Maybe I’ll tease you and keep you from finishing.” He threatened.

“Wouldn’t you be edging yourself in a way…?” Presmer pointed out.

“No one said I had to link with you to do it.” Edorengu pointed out as he began pumping his
erection.

“Mmph!” He blushed at the realization that Edorengu could, in fact, edge him without
punishing himself at all. It seems like it should be common sense but he never thought about
it. “A-ah..! Rengu…” He whined. He wanted Edorengu in his mind again, but he couldn’t put
it into words. All he could get out was a pathetic whimpering “please”.

“Please? Please what?” Edorengu inches his tentacles away from him to give him a moment
to think.

“I need you. Please. I want you in my mind so bad…” Presmer begged. Being denied his
master’s mental presence only seemed to increase his sexual frustration. “I’ll do whatever
you want.” He pleaded.

“Whatever I want, hm? Here’s what I want from you.” Edorengu made Presmer lie back in
his bed. He moved in close and Presmer let him press his forehead against his. He presses his
lips against his face, kissing him sweetly and gently.

“When you’re feeling bad, I want you to talk to me about it. Can you do that for me?”
Edorengu requested. Presmer was never really taught to talk about his feelings, but Edorengu
was bringing him out of his shell. He was starting to feel comfortable.

“I can. I want to.” Presmer whispered, nodding gently.

“Good. I’m not unreasonable. I will listen to you. We can always negotiate.” Edorengu laid
beside Presmer before linking with his senses.

He could feel Presmer’s relief, his comfort, and his desire for him. He once again began
pleasuring Presmer, using his hand. Presmer’s breaths soon became shaky as he felt his
master’s touch. He relaxed, enjoying it as long as he was allowed to. Edorengu’s pace slowed
to an agonizing crawl.

“Mmn… R-rengu…!” He whined.

“Patience… You’ll get what you want if you’re patient.” Edorengu reminded him. “You said
you would be good.” He teased his needy thrall.

Presmer settled down, allowing himself to calm down. His head began to empty once more as
he felt Edorengu’s pace quicken. “You love this, don’t you?” Edorengu teased.

“It feels like I’m on a leash, being pulled back, but then it becomes euphoric.” Presmer
admitted. Presmer gently stroked one of his master’s tentacles, urging him to sink deeper into
this feeling with him. Edorengu purred approvingly. Presmer quivered, bucking his hips
against his hand. Every time he edged Presmer, their inhibitions loosened more and more.
Edorengu could tell this really wasn’t much of a punishment, but he didn’t care.
Reconnecting with Presmer was all that mattered to him.

Presmer kissed his neck passionately, getting himself completely lost in his comforting
vanilla garlic scent. “Please. Please! Can I cum? Pretty please?” Presmer begged, the need for
relief was clear in his voice. Edorengu was ready to feel him cum. His voice became gooey,
unable to concentrate on projecting his desire into his mind.

“ Oh, yes! Cum for me, Presmer!” Edorengu commanded. Shortly after, Presmer felt himself
explode, squirting cum all over his chest, stomach and his master’s tentacles. He moaned
more loudly than ever felt comfortable with.

“Oh! Oh my goodness! Oh my!” Edorengu sounded like a positively flabbergasted gentleman

as he shared Presmer’s orgasm.

The warmth of it splattering onto his tentacles was rather pleasant. Edorengu slowly reached
for Presmer’s robes and used them to clean himself and Presmer up. He made sure to get him
a couple changes of clothes. Presmer didn’t protest his original robes being used in this
manner. “Are you starting to feel better?” Edorengu asked him.

“Mhm…” Presmer nodded, hugging him.

“Do you think part of your outburst was because you were so pent up?” His master began
analyzing what happened, trying to figure out what made him tick.

Presmer felt a little ashamed at how moody he was. “It’s plausible…” He responded,
blushing a little.

“I don’t mind at all if you masturbate. You’re free to explore your own body.” Edorengu
reassured him.
“I’m… Not used to having so much privacy.” Presmer admitted. Edorengu thought that was a
little sad.

“I want you to be comfortable in my domicile.” Edorengu told him.

“You’re doing a wonderful job, Master…” Presmer whispered before kissing his forehead.
Edorengu’s tentacles curled contently.

“Why don’t you get dressed in your new clothes? We’ll finish our breakfast and then I’ll take
you shopping at the market. We’ll get things for your room.” Edorengu booped his nose with
a tentacle.

One of the outfits he got consisted of an elegant black poet’s shirt and sleek black pants. If
Edorengu was going to take him out into public, he needed to look just as clean and pristine
as he did. He also has a red velvet jerkin he could pair with it if he wanted to. Presmer got
dressed and combed his hair, styling it like Elzaphir taught him to. He had a smile on his
face, feeling much better. “You are exquisite, Presmer.” Edorengu complimented. He looked
at his own messy robes. “I suppose I should change out of my pajamas as well…” He
laughed softly.

Presmer leaned in before he got up to kiss him lovingly. “I’ll cherish every moment today.”
He gave his master a warm smile before returning to his breakfast plate. Even though it was
cold now, he eagerly ate it. Edorengu quickly ate his breakfast before getting changed into his
clean casual robes. He began thinking that he should get Presmer some clothes to make him
presentable enough to bring him to work with him. There wasn’t much he could do other than
menial tasks like fetching drinks, but he thought Presmer might be able to learn. It was
equally likely that Presmer would simply get bored.

Maybe he could ask Aphrayaozu for advice on how to keep Presmer from feeling so lonely.
He respected his boss’ opinions and he had plenty of personal thralls he kept exclusively at
home. He adjusted his casual robes, making them look perfect. He rejoined Presmer in the
kitchen. Brylwyn was silently cleaning the dishes.

“Do you want to wear the leash or go leashless?” He trusted Presmer to stay with him.

“Leash, please…” He gave a shy smile. He always felt safer with it on. It showed him that
Edorengu didn’t forget about him. He let his master put it on him. Presmer hugged him
tightly once the leash was secured. Edorengu slowly wrapped his arms around him.
"I missed you too." Edorengu confessed. The human had a smile on his face as they set out.
He wouldn’t worry about what tomorrow would bring.

All that mattered was now, and right now, he had the affection of the illithid he missed.
 Going to Ormath
Chapter Summary

Dess and Wind finish the trek to Ormath, after dealing with a little road block.

The morning after the rainy night was clear and chilly. The ground was still wet but Dess was
inside his tent, warm and cozy. He looked at the front of the tent to see that Wind wasn’t
there? The gnome ceremorph sat up and put on his voice box. “Wind?” He quietly called out.
The nimblewright poked his head into the tent.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t leave you.” Run Like the Wind assured him. “I made you breakfast. Or
uh… I tried to.” He said. Dess slowly levitated out of the tent with the blanket wrapped
around him.

“How did you start the fire…?” Dess wondered.

“Well when you went to sleep I went out into the field the bison were in and got some uh…
‘buffalo pies’ and dried them out.” Wind admitted. Dess’ eyes squinted in disgust.

“Ah, yes. The less pleasant part of pioneering… They’re an invaluable resource to the local
tribes here though. Did you wash your hands after?” Dess rambled a bit.

“Yes, of course I washed my hands! Just because I’m immune to nasty stuff, it doesn’t mean
everyone else is.” Wind confirmed.

He handed Dess his mess kit, now filled with slightly burnt eggs. They weren't charred black,
but they were obviously more than a bit brown. “I accidentally stunned myself on the flame.
Nimblewrights are weak to fire. The cold slows me down too, so don’t expect me to move at
my usual speed once winter hits.” Wind couldn’t explain why, but he felt like he could trust
the gnome ceremorph not to use that information against him.

“Ahahaha… Maybe you should let me handle food preparation.” Dess offered.

“Do mind flayers know how to cook?” Run Like the Wind didn’t mean anything bad by it. It
was a genuine question. “It’s fine if you don’t know how to. Keegan was reportedly a terrible
chef. Not that I can eat to judge for myself. I just want to make sure you won’t make yourself
sick.” The construct clarified.
“I never had to start a fire before, but I know how to make some basic human foods. There
was an innkeeper in my colony for our rare non-illithid visitors. They also offered food and
drink. He showed me his surface recipe books written by humans once for my research on
surface culinary traditions.” Dess recounted how happy Srebral was that his knowledge could
be useful to other illithids for once.

“How’d you get them to agree to let you research that? I figured they’d find it as pointless as
I do.” Run Like the Wind wondered.

“I managed to make a convincing argument that better quality food might result in more
docile thralls. Unfortunately, the results were inconclusive. I don’t think they were able to
create a large enough sample size for their study.” Dess said.

“I take it that most of the thralls in your city aren’t very happy people. I guess those duergar
that captured you were just taking their frustrations out on you…” Wind said. The construct
didn’t have any reason to suspect that Dess had done anything to make them attack and
enslave him. If what the ceremorph said was true, they preferred to be as humane as possible.

“They weren’t even my thralls. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Dess said.

“I feel a little bad for killing them, but they chose to get in my way.” Wind said. The
construct tended to deal with threats with efficient violence because it was what he was built
to do.

Dess put his tentacles around the mess kit, sucking up the eggs into his mouth. Whether they
tasted bad or not was irrelevant because he couldn’t taste it anyway. It looked kind of funny
to Wind and he wheezed with a soft laugh. Dess looked up at Wind, finishing off the eggs and
pulling the mess kit from his mouth. “What?? What’s so funny? Did I do something weird?”
Dess asked with concern.

“You’re fine! It’s just… The way you eat things that aren’t brains kind of reminds me of a
bottom feeding fish. It looks a bit silly but it’s not a bad thing.” Wind confessed.

“I remind you of a fish??” Dess laughed. “Which species?”

“Hm… Barbfish. It’s an Amnian river dwelling shark. Its skin is mud colored, tough, and
they’re really slimy. People like to catch them for food. They can grow as big as a horse.”
Run Like the Wind vividly thought about what they looked like with the fleshy barbs that
grew around their mouth to search for food.
“As big as what kind of horse though? Different breeds come in various sizes. Warhorses
typically tend to be the largest breeds while riding horses are smaller.” Dess tried to get
specific.

“I don’t know. Whatever the average height for a horse is, I guess?” Wind shrugged.

The fire was warm and cozy as Dess sat on a log and wrapped his blanket around himself
once more. He felt like he could doze off again, looking serenely peaceful as he closed his
eyes. “Hey, don’t go back to sleep! I need you to help me pack up our camp at least.” Wind
lightly shook him. Dess yawned, his tiny sharp teeth were visible as his tentacles stretched.

“I’m awake… but I’m so cozy…” They slowly opened their eyes and took off the blanket,
realizing that they were naked still.

“Oops. I should put on some clothes too…” He pointed out.

It wasn’t as if the ceremorph had anything indecent to hide, but it protected him from the
elements and they hid him from humans who would be frightened of him. Dess was a bit of a
nudist and would go without any clothing in his own domicile. He loved being free from the
confines of cloth because he found it comfortable. He was told that the clothes his people
wore is what marked them as more than mere barbaric animals. He hated the dark, drab,
foreboding clothing that he wore to fit in. He loved the blue of the sky, the brown of the mud
and earth, but perhaps his new favorite color of all was the glimmering metallic gold of his
companion.

Dess returned to the tent, putting on his disguise clothes. Wind put out the fire before he
helped the gnome ceremorph pack up the tent and their gear. Dess swaddled himself in the
blanket and levitated to get on Run Like the Wind’s shoulders. “We might have to figure out
how to get some money at some point so we can buy some warmer clothes. It’s a bit chilly.”
Dess commented.

“Are you fine in that blanket right now?” Wind asked. He couldn’t feel cold but he knew that
low temperatures were bad without the right precautions to deal with them.

“Yes. I’m warm and comfortable in this.” Dess confirmed.

“Alright. Just don’t go nodding off back there.” Wind said.

“We’re going to Ormath next. What do you know about that city?” Run Like the Wind
wanted to keep his mind engaged with conversation to keep him awake so he wouldn’t go
tumbling off of his shoulders by dozing off.
“Ormath is a far older city than Assam by nearly 600 years! It was established in the Year of
Ironwood, 125. It’s also another major stopping point for merchants and mercenaries.” Dess
began.

“I remember you saying that Assam’s sister cities founded it as a peacekeeping measure,
right?” Wind recalled.

“Yes, I did! Lheshayl and Ormath have fought many bloody battles with each other and the
local tribes! One notable battle took place in 326, the Year of Secret Slaughters when tensions
over grazing rights came to a head. A combined force of thousands of men strong met to do
battle. The bloody conflict lasted an entire week before wemics from the tribe of Tenpaw
drove both combatant forces from the field.” Dess shared his historical knowledge.

“I wonder why they couldn’t have just shared the land. There’s plenty of grass everywhere.
We’re in the plains, but I guess I just don’t get it because I don’t have to eat.” Run Like the
Wind said.

“We actually don’t know who the aggressor in the conflict was officially. Competition over
land is a common cause for conflicts and wars.” Dess said.

“I suppose one side feels backed into a corner and sees aggressive action as the only escape
left.” Wind said.

“Although Ormath’s leaders through the years have a reputation for going to war over the
slightest insult. So it is said anyway.” Dess added.

“We should be in Ormath by the evening.” He informed him. As they trotted along the road
they came across a surly looking dwarf wearing a pink felt cap. On either side of the road
were broken rocky fences. The man was blocking their path. “Hold up! This here’s a toll
road.” The dwarven man said.

“How much does it cost?” Dess asked. Wind slapped his palm against his face, the sound of
metal on metal lightly clinking.

“There is no toll, Dess. They’re trying to rob us.” Wind explained.

“Oh. Please don’t do that, sir. That’s not very nice.” Dess tried to dominate his mind to make
him stand aside. It seemed his polite approach didn’t work.

“I only ask nicely once, lads.” The dwarven bandit warned.

“We’re surrounded, Dess.” Wind informed his companion, pulling the small swaddled
ceremorph off of his shoulders and gently setting him down. Three men were behind the
roadside fences of stone. One of them had a crossbow, one of them had a dagger, another had
a club, and their dwarven leader had a scimitar which he drew from its sheath.

Run Like the Wind moved with lightning fast reflexes, throwing a dagger of his own at the
man with the crossbow. The attack gave the man a superficial wound to his hand, causing
him to fumble with the crossbow and pull the trigger. It would have hit the nimblewright’s
leg if he hadn’t already sprinted towards the dwarf. His rapier elegantly knocks away the
dwarf’s scimitar, sending it flying out of his hand, and the second strike took the hand that
held it. The remaining two bandits rushed at Dess in an attempt to hold him hostage and force
compliance from the golden stranger. Dess was bonked on the head by the man with the club
and out of annoyance, he hit them both with a mind blast. Dess knew the men would not
survive if he put his all into it, and the two men were left stunned.

Dess thought about Wind’s words. Perhaps these men felt like they were backed into a corner
and saw no other way out too. Wind stared at the bandit with the crossbow before
approaching him, dragging the dwarf with him in one hand. “S-stay back!” The bandit
screamed, aiming the light crossbow at him and firing. Wind effortlessly sliced the bolt flying
at him in half with the rapier in his other hand.

“Take your friend to a healer. Maybe you’ll all do better as beggars.” Run Like the Wind
dropped the dwarf at the terrified man’s feet. “Come on, Dess…” Wind picked the blanketed
gnome ceremorph up and held him close.

As he ran away from the injured bandits, he made sure to pick up the dwarf’s scimitar.
Maybe they could get some money for it. It’s not like their attackers needed to play with such
dangerous toys anyway. “Did they hurt you?” Wind asked. He wouldn’t go back to finish the
job, but he needed to know if Dess needed medical attention.

“I took a little bump to the noggin, but I think I’ll be fine. I wasn’t trying to kill them, so I
held back…” Dess admitted. “It’ll probably be bruised but I don’t think I’m severely
injured.”

“I’m glad. I want to avoid you sustaining any serious injuries, because we can’t just go to a
cleric if you get hurt…” Wind sounded concerned, as if he were still mentally fussing over
Dess. Wind continued running until they drew close to Ormath at sunset, a couple of hours
ahead of schedule. He finally stopped, finally feeling safe. Dess adjusted his scarf as Wind
put him down. “I’ll take a look at your head when we get into an inn, but I think this scimitar
I took off of that dwarf might be magic.” Wind said. The hilt of the blade looked like a green
snake. When the dwarf had used it, the eyes of the snake’s head glowed a fierce orange, and
the tongue stuck out of its fanged mouth.
“This must be a Weapon of Warning.” Dess easily identified it. “I don’t know much about
yuan-ti, but if I had to guess, this might have been made in Hlondeth based on the design. It
helps keep the owner of it from being surprised by their attackers.” Dess explained.

“Well that didn’t work out very well for him… I want you to have it. It’s never a bad idea to
keep yourself armed, even if you can use mind powers to defend yourself.” Wind
encouraged. He put the scimitar back in the sheath which he stole from that bandit and
handed it to the gnome ceremorph.

“But I don’t know how to use a blade.” Dess said. He took it anyway.

“I could try to teach you.” Wind offered as they walked into Ormath.

“Well… Alright. Just don’t go as fast as you did in that fight. I’d never keep up!” Dess
accepted his offer.

“Don’t worry. I’ll do my best to slow down for you.” Run Like the Wind told him. He was
already walking slower for his small friend. “For now, let’s just find an inn to rest that weary
head of yours…”

Dess instinctively reached up, holding onto Run Like the Wind’s cloak. Even if his vision
was beginning to improve from the darkening sky, he felt more comfortable in a crowd by his
side, as they began to search for shelter for another day…
 A Demonstration
Chapter Summary

Extremely horny chapter. (You) end up in an orgy with three ulitharids, one of their
thralls and your master.

You were happy for Vizaness that she won her first match! It really ignited a competitive
spark in you. “Master, do you think we could try competing in one of these tournaments?”
You asked him. Zusrall had not entered a tournament ever since he lost his first thrall. That
was back before they banned small folk races from entering due to a few “incidents”. Zusrall
paused to think for a moment.

“I don’t see why not… We held our own quite well in our casual rounds…” Zusrall answered.
He’d never won first place before but maybe he could make it with you. You were still rather
pent up from the match. You didn’t get to finish in all the excitement. The other spectators
looking at you made you feel a bit shy. You could tell some of them really enjoyed
observing.

“You’re still worked up, aren’t you?” He asked you. It was obvious. You nodded quietly.

“I didn’t expect just watching would get me so worked up.” You said.

“Oh, please. You get incredibly aroused just from reading words on paper.” Zusrall teased.
You whined in embarrassed acknowledgement. He was right! Zusrall couldn’t blame you for
being so worked up. The food was laced with their aphrodisiacs. He tried to warn you but
you ate it anyway.

“Don’t try to pretend that you didn’t do this to yourself.” He said.

“I know…” You whined, poking your fingers together. He knew you wouldn’t calm down
until you’ve gotten it out of your system. Now that the match was over, he was thinking
about bringing you home to take care of that. At least, he was until he was approached by
some of the ulitharids. There were three of them. Thegrian, Uopheress and a fellow spectator
named Dazinok.

Dazinok was the Nourisher Creed’s quastor. They honestly couldn’t care less about Selessk
and A Breeder Named Slisskbax’s little tiff as long as the mindgates were flowing and the
books were balanced. They did however, enjoy the drama of it all. It was far more
entertaining than regular dominance tournaments. It was almost better than performance
eating! “Zusrall, was it? Top 40%?”

“Quastor Dazinok! A pleasure to meet you!” Zusrall gave a slight bow to him. “Yes, that
would be me.” Zusrall confirmed. “And this is Uopheress, owner of the Scales Couriers
Service.” The top breeder had trained tzakandi and lizardfolk that promised to be able to
deliver anything, anywhere. Their services were often used locally or to carry supplies to
staged raids. “And Thegrian, Vizaness’ next opponent.” Zusrall recalled who the other two
were in order to show he wasn’t wholly ignorant to the workings of the elite. He spoke as if
he were introducing them to you.

You bowed to show deference to them. “It’s awe inspiring to be in your presence.” You
complimented them. You were wearing elegant but sheer white robes. You may as well have
been naked, but Zusrall assured you that you looked good in it.

“Me and my thrall saw you in the audience. We quite enjoyed your boldness. Vebeva had
informed me that your thrall had actually come from Vizaness’ menagerie.” Dazinok said. He
was accompanied by his halfling thrall named Yesgwen. She had long brown curly hair that
went down the middle of her back.

“So you wanted to see what the fuss was about from my thrall.” Zusrall concluded.

“Well, Vizaness certainly put on a good show! It certainly made me curious.” Dazinok
confirmed.

“As for me...” Thegrian spoke up. “I want to get a feel for what I’m up against. I’m pretty
sure Uopheress just wants a consolation prize.” He teased his fellow competitor who had just
been eliminated.

“Your words wound me, but yes. Although, let’s not pretend that this is merely for research.
You’re just pent up because your opponent couldn’t satisfy your thrall.” Uopheress aired out
Thegrian’s intentions.

Your cheeks flushed at the thought of three ulitharids at once. Sure you had worked a session
or two with Vebeva present but she had never touched you the way she touched Whim.
Zusrall cupped your chin, tilting your head to make you focus on him. “Shall we entertain
them, my prized thrall?” He asked you. You were still really worked up and eager to make a
good impression for your master.
“I would be honored, Master.” You smiled at him, biting your lower lip. You were honestly so
needy, you didn’t really care how you achieved orgasm.

“That’s a good thrall.” Zusrall praised.

“Jolly good!” Dazinok exclaimed. “Let's find a room.”

“Good luck. It’s like a lizardfolk rut in here.” Thegrian jokes. Erotic dominance tournaments
were a bit like a hedonistic festival. It didn’t help that they had been giving out samples of
that aphrodisiac. The tournaments were also a time for the festhall to advertise its products
and services. The high tier attendees had gotten access to the most illicit and explicit
entertainment.

Out of the 12 rooms available, only one of them had absolutely nobody else in it. There was a
considerably large orgy of nine individuals happening in room number six. They had left the
door ajar and you could see 3 ulitharids with their 6 thralls. You were aware that things like
this happened back here, but it was surreal to actually see it. Your master tugged you along
by your collar, snapping you out of your distracted viewing. You were led into the only
empty room available.

You allowed your master to take off your robes, showing your body off to the three ulitharids
in the room. “My Tentacled Lord, they’re really pent up. That makes two of us.” Thegrian
commented. Yesgwen tugs at her master’s robes.

“Does anyone mind if my thrall joins in as well?” Dazinok asked.

“Not at all!” Uopheress says. “It would be interesting to see how they please other thralls.”
She proposed.

“I’ll be focusing on Zusrall’s thrall so I don’t really care.” Thegrian was bluntly honest.

The tiny halfing woman pulled off her clothes. To Zusrall, Yesgwen looked rather similar to
Fengrace, but with you by his side, he was able to remember her with fondness. He never
dreamed he’d ever be in the same room as any of these nobles and he was here with you.
Zusrall, with nothing but his own will compelled you to get on the bed. You wanted to be
perfectly obedient for him, showing everyone what a good thrall you were to earn his praise.
Yesgwen joined you. You’ve never been hands on with a halfling before, despite your master
owning them. You never asked him why that was. It was just the way it was. You got between
her legs and began licking her pussy. You felt your master’s hand running through your hair,
gentle praise in your mind. “Such a good thrall. So eager to please.”
Yesgwen moaned softly as you pleasured her with your mouth. She looked up at her master
and reached out with a grasping hand. She wasn’t very talkative. Dazinok wrapped a tentacle
around her hand to comfort her. Once the halfling had her master’s tentacle in hand, she
began moaning louder and more frequently. You would do whatever it took to please Zusrall.
To make everyone feel good. To get relief for your relentless arousal.

Thegrian was the first to put his tentacles on you. You don’t fight it, feeling the tendrils wrap
around you. You desperately rub your genitals against one of the writhing slimy appendages.
You were pulled up to your knees. Thegrian was holding you by your wrists and wrapping his
tentacles around your thighs, giving them a supple squeeze. Dazinok lifted his thrall up with
telekinesis, positioning the halfling woman so that her pussy was in your face once again.

You continued orally pleasuring Yesgwen without hesitation. “Oh my, they aren’t missing a
beat!” Uopheress commented. You hear the ulitharids and your master starting to purr softly.
Your master’s deep purr was such a distinct sound to you. It was the loudest in your mind.
Yesgwen is very obviously enjoying your performance. “Please fuck me. I want it so bad!”
You moaned.

“Looks like your thrall’s getting impatient.” Dazonik commented.

“They can’t help it. Those samples they were giving out were… Especially potent.” Zusrall
said.

“I can’t help it because I’m your little whore, master.” You boldly declare.

Your words got a sensible chuckle out of Uopheress. “So honest too…” She commented.
Normally your master was respectful when dealing with other thralls, but he started to find
that he loved talking dirty to you. You were pulled onto your back. Dazinok brought his
halfling thrall into his lap and began pleasuring her himself. You couldn’t tell who’s tentacles
were on you anymore as every erogenous zone on your body was stimulated all at once. You
had more tentacles on you than you ever had in your life.

“Yes. You're a good little whore…” Zusrall’s dirty praise sent you deeper into pleasure. You
felt like you were practically drowning. You reached out and grabbed his hand. Even in this
tangled mess of lust and emotion you were inexorably linked to Zusrall.

“I want to cum for you so bad!” You whimper.

You wanted to let them have full exploration of your body. You ached to be the plaything of
these ulitharids so your master could impress them. Uopheress took you up on your
invitation, pushing a tentacle inside you. You moaned loudly as she filled you. She purred
with approval. “Oh my! So tight… Would you believe this is my first time putting my tentacles
on a thrall?” Uopheress seemed impressed.

“That's probably why you lost.” Thegrian bluntly said.

“How dare- Ahn!” Uopheress’ indignation was cut short by your own pleasure in her mind.

“I know my prized thrall like the back of my hand! You need to form a deeper connection with
them if you want to win! As a matter of fact, he's sizing up the competition in the bath right
now.” Thegrian said, sounding rather smug.

Thegrian and Dazinok each put one of their tentacles in your face, eager to see who you'll go
for first. You begin sweetly sucking on Dazinok's tentacle, getting a nice view of Yesgwen
getting fucked silly by her master's other tentacles. Her eyes rolled back as she squeaked,
squirting onto the moss bed’s sheets.

To be fair to Thegrian, you made sure to oblige him as well while Dazinok held his satisfied
thrall in his arms and tentacles. You closed your eyes. You felt like you were in a tub of
sloshing water, pushed in every direction. Every tug, rub and pull on your body made you
tremble.

Every orifice was filled. Every spot that felt good was touched. It was almost too much!
“You're doing wonderful. Focus on me.” You focused not on your master's physical form but
on his mind. Your eyes remained closed as you practically meditated on him. Even with these
powerful minds pressing into yours, you felt like magnetic fluid, slipping through everyone’s
fingers and drawn to him.

He was stability, warmth, desire, love . His will wrapped around yours, twisting, coiling and
grasping. Your will shrunk beneath his, and you begged to cum with every wordless fiber of
your being. You gave your guests what they wanted. You came hard, squirming and gasping.
They left you in a pleasant stupor. You laid on the bed. Practically every inch of you was
covered in slime of mind flayers. You tiredly squeezed your master’s hand, laughing softly.
You were finally and completely satisfied.

“I’ve got my work cut out for me if that’s the kind of loyalty my opponent’s thralls have. I
think I’ll have a worthy opponent!” Thegrian complimented Zusrall. “You think about
entering erotic dominance tournaments with that one?” He asked.
“Funny you say that. I was just thinking about that before our encounter.” Zusrall admitted.

“Oh, yes… Quite the spectacle…” Uopheress was left stunned from the experience. “I
suppose I have room to learn… Your thrall clearly respects you quite a bit.”

“Aww, your thrall’s all tuckered out.” Dazinok pointed out. “Let’s put them to rest. They
certainly earned it, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, I think my perfect thrall has earned a nap.” Zusrall agreed.

You turned your head to face Dazinok and his eyes became an inky void and you lost
consciousness. When you woke up, you were in your own bed. You were holding your rothe
doll and your master was beside you, having fallen asleep with you. You weren’t sure how or
when you got home, but he chose to sleep in your bed? On purpose? You decide against
waking him, laying down beside him as long as you could.

He awoke several minutes after you and softly pressed his forehead against yours. “How did I
get home?” You quietly asked him.

“I carried you.” He answered.

“My hero.” You giggled softly. You kissed his forehead lovingly. “Geeze, that stuff was
strong…”

“We won’t be telling anyone about that.” Zusrall said. It was a trade secret apparently. You
nodded, ensuring your secrecy.

“Did I put on a good demonstration for you, Master?” You asked.

“You were a perfect whore.” He answered. You blushed at his response. He pulled you close.
“I couldn’t ask for a better lover.” He confessed. Your eyes widened on the word “lover”.
You couldn’t adequately express how it made you feel but he felt a surge of joy from you as
you hugged him.

“You’re the best master ever… I love you.” You told him.
 A Star in My Heart
Chapter Summary

Captain Arnam has a secret mindflayer lover.

Captain Arnam was in his quarters. There were still a couple of hours before the ship would
dock in the Rock of Bral. The room featured a four poster bed, a dining table with a decanter
of wine, and various star maps of crystal spheres marked with guesses of the whereabouts of
The Spelljammer. A treasure chest held the crew’s treasury. They were pirate hunters who
took the loot that other pirates stole. They also salvaged things from abandoned ships for
money. The captain had various trinkets and treasures from his trips. The two love birds on
his ship were a couple of odd fellows, but then again, he and his crew all had their
peculiarities. The back of the cabin had large windows through which the captain could view
the vastness of wildspace.

The glass once had to be replaced when an astereater crashed right through his cabin while
they were trying to navigate a large asteroid field known as The Grinder in Greyspace. The
hard headed beholder kin tried to swallow him up! It was how the captain lost his leg. This
trip was thankfully more peaceful, even if their passengers were far from the usual seeking
passage aboard a spelljammer. His ship sure seemed to attract a lot of strange people and
phenomenon. The Dwarven Lady and her crew had a lot of tales to tell.

One of these tales was a tale of love. As the captain peered into the vastness of the stars, a
feminine voice entered his mind. “Heading towards Bral today, Captain?” She asked.
Arnam turned to face her. The illithid had lilac colored skin. Her eyes were like windows to
the universe, sparkling with stars within. Her deep navy dress was sheer, long and flowing. It
was covered with a spreading outpouring of glittering rhinestones that looked like stars,
concentrated near the waist and becoming more sporadic outwards down the dress. She had
two tentacle rings. One was a Ring of the Comet, capable of summoning a comet steed. The
other was a Ring of Shooting Stars.

“Methuselah!” He smiled upon seeing her. “It’s good to see ye again, lass…” He grabbed a
sign and hung it on his door. It read “DO NOT DISTURB OR YOU’LL BE WALKING THE
PLANK!”. He then locked it securely. “Can I get ye some wine? I’ve got yer favorite.” He
offered.
“Still as charming as ever, Captain Arnam.” She levitated into one of his chairs, accepting
his offer. Out of an opaque black bottle, he poured a cool blue shimmering liquid. He poured
it into a pair of narrow champagne flutes she could comfortably drink out of.

“Blue Moon Dragon Sparkling.” Her tentacles curled in delight. The beverage was a rare
treat “You certainly haven’t forgotten how to treat a lady, love.” She takes the glass in her
hand with elegance and toasts him. The drink was based on a legend that when a moon
dragon turned blue, it would bestow a miracle on someone.

“Have yer travels turned up anything interesting?” Captain Arnam asked her. She was a
powerful sorceress with magic from beyond the stars. She could travel the entire multiverse
by herself, drifting through the stars. She no longer needed to eat brains. She lived off of
starlight and heat.

“As a matter of fact, I have. I met some adventurers who were also seeking The Spelljammer.
I may check in with them from time to time to see if they have made any progress. One of
them is a sorcerer like myself, of the same origin.” She said. Methuselah was helping the
captain follow his dream of seeing that ship again.

“So ye have a good hunch about them?” Arnam smirked.

“Indeed. The multiverse works in mysterious ways.” She sipped her wine. It wasn’t about the
taste for her, but rather the aesthetic, but when she taste linked with the captain, it was sweet.
It tasted of frosted sugar and blueberries.

“The passengers of your ship are interesting.” Methuselah noted.

“Ye were invisibly snooping aboard, eh?” Captain Arnam smiled. Methuselah was a naturally
curious being, lacking the xenophobia of her kin. She was a free spirit, seeking knowledge
through the multiverse in the form of connection with others.

“I hope that illithid’s sense of wonder never dies.” She confirmed that she might have been
aboard for a bit longer than they thought.

“My sense of wonder grows every time I see ye.” Arnam flirted with her. Reactions to her
from the sailors of the multiverse were diverse, ranging from awe to disgust. If Methuselah
was in danger, she would simply teleport away, never to bother that crew again. Although she
had the ability to destroy entire ships, she would never unleash her full wrath upon a crew
without significant provocation. The captain was a rare sort. He adored her.
She finishes off the last of her drink, her sparkling eyes squinted at him. ”That isn’t the only
thing that grows, is it, captain?” She giggled. The captain blushed, smiling softly.

“My fondness for ye does as well. As for that other line of thought… Can ye blame me? Yer
beautiful!” The captain didn’t deny it in the slightest. “Would ye like to keep me company at
least until we dock?” He asked.

“I would love nothing more.” Methuselah replied. The captain’s cabin of the Dwarven Lady
was one of the most comfortable places in the multiverse for her to be. She stood from her
seat and gracefully levitated to him. He was a whole foot taller than her. He pulled her close,
kissing her forehead.

“I’ve missed ye, my little galaxy.” He tells her.

“No one sails these stars like you do, Captain.” She allowed him to pull her dress off. It was
set on the chair she was sitting in with care.

The captain stripped down to his underwear, carelessly dropping his clothes on the floor. He
pulled her into bed with him, bringing her on top of him. Her tentacles and fingertips traced
over his many scars as he peppered her face, neck and collar bone with kisses. His powerful
arms embraced her closely, as the two of them took a moment to look at the stars and Toril
growing ever smaller out of his window. “Toril’s a beautiful planet. Ye should give it another
chance some day.” He felt a reluctance to return to that planet from her.

“Someday… Take me to the Sea of Fallen Stars, will you?” She agreed. She was born in
Ch’Chitl. Shunned for her sorcerous power, she fled to Waterdeep and invisibly stowed
herself aboard the Dwarven Lady and had aimlessly wandered the cosmos in search of
adventure and knowledge.

“It be a deal.” He agreed. They once again became an impassioned tangle of limbs and
tentacles. She straddled him and pulled down his underwear, revealing his erect member. She
coiled a tentacle around it tenderly. The tip of her tentacle rubbed against the head of his
cock. He stared into her sparkling eyes.

“Such a view…” She said, briefly looking out the window.

“Not as pretty as ye. Not even close.” He said. Her movements became a bit faster as a bit of
precum dribbled out. She pulled his underwear the rest of the way off and tossed them onto
the floor. He pulled her into another passionate kiss.

“Yer the one that summoned the comet steed, aren’t ye?” He asked.
“I might have put on some extra theatrics for your passengers…” Methuselah replied,
amusement in her glistening eyes.

“That’s cute but ye can’t recharge the ring without wishing…” Arnam reminded her.

“I still have 7 uses.” She said.

“A lucky number.” The captain grinned.

She laid him down, and began very slowly guiding his hard shaft into her cloaca, taking him
slowly and gently as he pressed his forehead to hers. They moaned softly as one and he
embraced her as she rested against him. Her breath hitched as she felt him filling her. “Yer
the softest person in the multiverse.” He mumbled as she slowly moved. “So pretty and kind.
So gentle… A scurvy dog like me is blessed to have ye for even a moment.” He whispered
sweet nothings to the illithid slowly riding him. She whimpered softly as he slowly bucked
his hips into her.

As far as the captain knew, the crew didn’t know about her. When he first discovered her
aboard the ship, he kept her a secret. He let her go on the Rock of Bral and they had gone a
couple years without seeing each other until they had a fateful reunion on the planet of
Garden.

“Your cabin is one of the most comforting places in the multiverse.” She said.

“And what location be number one?” Arnam asked.

“Right here…” She nuzzled her face against his neck, trailing a tentacle over his strong
jawline.

He blushed and cracked a wide smile. She sat up and began bouncing herself on his cock.
The sound of flesh slapping against slimy flesh could be heard. Her tentacles writhed as she
giggled softly.

He soon sat up, embracing her tightly, her legs wrapped around him. They moved as one,
sharing mutual respite and pleasure. “Ye smell so good…” He whispered.

“It’s your favorite flower.” Methuselah replied. She had an unusual scent to her. It was
strong, sweet and heady, not unlike lilacs. She risked losing her ability to wish at all just to
permanently smell like the flowers.

“Another one of yer magic tricks?” He asked. “Ye never smelled unpleasant, ye know.” He
wanted her to know that.
“I suppose I am making you smell like a perfumery. You don’t mind, do you?” She booped his
nose with a clawed fingertip.

“Not one bit.” The captain replied, smoothly bringing himself on top of her and gently
thrusting deep inside. She used one of her tentacles to control the depth of his penetration.
She whimpered and moaned softly, showing a lot of restraint. Methuselah’s tendrils and arms
embraced the captain. Even when she was shunned by her own kind, she found acceptance,
kindness and love in the vast reaches of the universe.

“No matter how far I roam, the path I traced in my mind always leads back to you.” She
traced her fingers over a psionic tattoo on his chest. It matched one over her own, right where
their hearts were. Since she lacked the knowledge to create the circuitry herself, it was
another wish she made so she’d always be able to find him again and he would never wonder
if she was alive and well. He placed a hand on her matching tattoo. She placed her palm
against his. They could feel the pulsing of each other’s hearts.

“You’re so full of joy and life and zeal.” She softly gurgled. He smiled and brought her onto
her side, pulling out of her and getting behind her. He grabbed her onto her hip and pushed
himself back inside of her. He draped his peg leg around her for leverage. She rubbed her
fingers against his thigh gently. She couldn’t help but purr at this point as he laid beside her,
wrapping his toned arm around her in a hug. She clasped his hand in both of hers, holding it
close to her chest.

“O, Captain! My Captain…!” She groaned, laughing softly. Captain Arnam kisses her neck
and shoulder with passionate intent. Their fingers intertwined. Their breaths become labored
and shallow.

“Can I bury my treasure in yer booty?” Captain Arnam asked, feeling himself getting closer
to finishing.

“YES!” She gave an enthusiastic response, before giggling at his cheesy line. Her moans
grew a bit louder, her voice strained, hissing softly to hold them in.

“I’m so close… Don’t hold out on me now, my star!” Arnam encouraged. Perhaps he didn’t
want to keep her a secret any longer. Her face was pale. Her tentacles twitched at his bold
instructions.

“Oh, Arnam, you dandy fool!” She growled sensually. She wrapped a tentacle around his
head, muffling his cries as they came together. She felt warmth filling her, and leaking out as
he slowly pulled out. He remained by her side, holding her close as they gained their
bearings.

“I don’t know about meeting the crew officially… They’ll think you’re a mad man, Arnam…”
Methuselah said.

“They knew that when they signed on to the crew.” He grinned.

She looked out the window at the passing stars as he held her. “I’ll think about it.” She said,
wrapping her tentacles around his arm. “What if they hate me?” Even if she was a powerful
sorceress, she still sought understanding and acceptance.

“Show me any man who hates ye. I’ll throw ‘em overboard.” The captain told her.

“Perhaps later. I can see that the wizard and her illithid companion are influencing this
decision.” She didn’t want to tie up his business with these strangers. She was cautious when
meeting strangers, often disappearing at the first sign of trouble. “Right now all I want is
this…” She relaxed in his arms.

As they relaxed with one and other, he softly recited to her a poem. One of many he’d read.

“The sea hath its pearls,

The heaven hath its stars;

But my heart, my heart,

My heart hath its love.”

"Great are the sea and the heaven;

Yet greater is my heart,

And fairer than pearls and stars

Flashes and beams my love." Methuselah continues the poem.

"Thou little, youthful maiden,

Come unto my great heart;

My heart, and the sea, and the heaven

Are melting away with love!" Arnam finished the poem.
 Welcome to the Rock of Bral
Chapter Summary

Geddask and Madalyn enter the space port of Bral and are thrown into a completely
different culture!

“Land Ho! We are approaching the Rock of Bral!” Finoran announced to the crew throughout
the ship. Methuselah perked her head up and moved to get dressed before she could be
discovered by the crew. She gasped as Arnam grabbed her hand and effortlessly pulled her
close to him.

“At least let me give ye one last kiss before ye go wandering the stars again.” He gently
pleaded. Methuselah blushed, her cheeks turning a dainty shade of white lilac.

“You dandy fool…” Her tentacles curled in a demure manner, covering her cheeks. She floats
up and wraps her arms around him, accepting a loving kiss to her forehead. She was rapidly
calculating how her crew would react to them. How would things change between them?
Maybe she enjoyed the thrill of being a secret.

“C'mon captain! Stop jerkin’ off and get out here!” Speedy Spetz, the helmeted goblin crew
mate yells.

“Can't ye read the sign!?” Captain Arnam yells after releasing Methuselah from his embrace.
She began putting her dress back on.

“No! I can't read Common, Captain!” Speedy replies.

“It says not to disturb me or ye’ll be walkin’ the plank!” The captain said.

“Guess I’ll have to get one written in Goblin too…” The captain grumbled. “I’ll be out there
when I get out there!” Arnam told his crew mate. Methuselah pulled his attention away from
the door, gently turning his head to face hers. She presses her forehead against his.

“How long will you be on Bral?” She asked.

“Three days.” Arnam quietly answered.

“I’ll see you soon.” She promised. She teleported, disappearing into a fading glimmer of
stardust.

The captain pulled on his clothes and exited his cabin. Geddask, out of paranoia, had donned
his disguise again. “Geddask, no one on The Rock cares that you're a mind flayer.” Finoran
said. The concept of being accepted openly as they were was completely foreign to Geddask.

“There’s people from all over the multiverse in this city! From aaracocka to xixchils!” The
youngest cabin boy said excitedly.

“There’s actually a few dozen mind flayers living in the low city.” The halfling helmsman
explained.

Geddask holds onto the beak of their outfit as if contemplating taking it off. They decided to
leave it on for now. “I truthfully don’t enjoy the company of other illithids.” Geddask
admitted.

“Why not?” The cabin boy asked.

“I vastly prefer the company of other races. Even when they are afraid of me, they’ve never
been able to perceive my flaws. Being called a freak or a monster doesn’t bother me all that
much because there’s at least one person who doesn’t think that’s true. Humanoids are often
capable of being kind. Most illithids are not.” Geddask responded. Madalyn frowned at their
last sentence.

“Do you really believe that, Geddask?” She asked them.

“I do. My own experiences in my former colony have shaped this perception. Very few of
them were ever kind to me.” Geddask answered.

“Do you think that you’re a kind person?” Madalyn asked.

“I do not know.” They said.

“I think you’re a kind person, Geddask!” The cabin boy said. Geddask looked down at the
boy, unsure of what evidence this child could have to support his statement.

“What an astute observation.” Madalyn softly smiled. “An unkind person wouldn’t make
soup for me, or create inventions for me.” She said. She leaned in, thinking this part and
hoping they would hear it. “And unkind people don’t save every scrap of cloth with my
lipstick on it.”
Geddask blushed under their mask. They definitely weren’t taking it off for a while. “I will
make note of those anecdotes.” They said as the ship pulled into the harbor. They were joined
by the captain on deck.

“‘All things come to those who wait, and especially to those who wait upon the Rock of
Bral,’ or so the elven saying goes.” The captain said. Geddask looked at the docks, already
overwhelmed, seeing strange creatures they’d never seen before. Vaguely humanoid blobs
that looked like gelatin, brightly colored penguins, something that looked like a mix between
a dragon and a centaur. Madalyn held their hand, leading them along. Bramzakk, their orcish
crewmate was hauling 5 barrels of ale behind them.

Madalyn wasn’t really paying attention to where Geddask was going, just as in awe. The
illithid tripped over a barrel on it’s side, and tripped onto a goblin loading things up. Geddask
gurgled as they landed on the goblin man and upon realizing they were on top of someone,
they sheepishly levitated themselves up and hid behind Madalyn. “Hey! Watch where you’re
goin’, buddy!” The goblin man shouted at them. Madalyn spoke up for them.

“They’re very sorry! We’re new here. We’ve never been in space before…” Madalyn
apologized. A muscular elf picked the goblin up off of the ground.

“Don’t be too hard on them, friend. Groundlings wouldn’t be up here if they ever looked
down!” The elf grinned.

The goblin grumbled something about “frick frackin’ groundlings” and returned to work.
Madalyn gave a nervous smile and wave to the elven dock worker as they were ushered
along.

“Courtesy is king in Bral. Anyone with common sense can make it here. No matter what
wrongs ye feel the need to redress, you’ll draw no sword or cast any spell. So stay yer hands
and don’t poke around in dark alleys.” Captain Arnam told them.

“Seems simple enough. That’s just common sense in any city, isn’t it?” Madalyn observed.

Geddask made sure to pay better attention to their surroundings after that embarrassing little
tumble. Madalyn kept Geddask closer to her, leaning on their arm. “There’s only a few laws
to follow in this city.” Doc, the cleric mentions to them. “No burglary, armed robbery, piracy,
murder, manslaughter, smuggling, treason, theft, provocation and absolutely no arson!” The
cleric tells them.

“So mind yer spells, lass. If ye cast a fireball on Bral, it’d be a miracle if ye don’t get lynched
on the spot. Even starting a fire by accident is 10 years of hard labor for the idiot that started
it.” Captain Arnam warns.
“Noted…” Madalyn said.

“Everything else, you mind your own.” Finoran said. “If you get your pockets picked, that's
your own fault.”

“For serious crimes, ye go to the magistrate in the area it happened in if ye have a problem
with it. Not that there’s any law forcing ye to report it. If ye get convicted of stealing three
times, murder, arson or piracy, the Magistrate’s watch will get ye jettisoned.” Captain Arnam
explains.

“Jettisoned…?” Geddask asked as the group exited Dock Street and entered Dragon Street.

“It’s how they like to execute people. They throw ye right off the rock and send ye straight
into space. Most people die in about 10 or so minutes once they run out of air, but a lucky
few get eaten by the scavvers before they can suffocate.” The captain answered.

“Oh… That’s… Different. Usually heinous undesirables are just quietly never heard from
again back in Waterdeep…” Geddask said as the group turned onto Eel Street. They tucked
into an alleyway alive with music. It was the sounds of a space shanty.

“There’s someone I want ye two to meet!” Captain Arnam grinned. The sign above the
building read “The Laughing Beholder” and featured a smiling blue beholder. They entered
to see a large blue beholder with 11 orange eyes. “Ahoy, Large Luigi! We picked up that
order of Zzar for ye back in Waterdeep.” Arnam greeted. Madalyn and Geddask were
surprised to see a beholder running a tavern and looked at each other as if making sure they
weren’t hallucinating before looking back at the beholder. Bramzakk began unloading the
beholder’s order.

“Oh, nice! Very timely too! Did you pick up a couple new crew mates?” The beholder
telepathically spoke to Arnam as he sat at the main bar. Madalyn and Geddask reluctantly
took a seat with him. The other crewmates took up a big table.

“Nay. They’re just a couple of groundling love birds, running away from Toril.” The captain
grinned.

“Dating illithids sure is becoming a trend lately.” Large Luigi focused his 11 eyes on
Geddask.

“How did you know…?” Geddask mentally squeaked.

“I can smell your friend from here.” The beholder barkeep replied with a laugh. Geddask
took off their mask, seeing no point in hiding. Their face was pale.
Madalyn was blushing a bit herself, but had a small smile. “It’s not as if most people even
know what an illithid smells like.” Madalyn teasingly quotes Geddask.

“I may have made a slight error in judgment based on my available knowledge of surface
humanoids which has proved lacking in this particular situation…” Geddask conceded.

“It’s not as if I knew anymore than you did. I’m just poking fun at you.” She clarified, putting
a hand on their shoulder. They covered their face with their tentacles briefly and decided to
change the subject.

“So… How did a beholder become a bartender?” Geddask asked.

“Well, I used to live on H’catha, a disk shaped world inhabited by beholders like yours truly.
My journey for knowledge changed me and I gained vast knowledge. After my ascent, one of
my eyestalks changed to the detect lie spell instead of the death ray spell that most beholders
have. My fellow beholders didn’t like me very much and I had to flee for my life from my
home world. I got a human run Tradesman ship to take me off of my planet and when I had
worked off my debt to them, they dropped me off here and I opened up a tavern. The citizens
of the city gave me my name.” Large Luigi retold his story.

“I see… Up until now, I was just making inventions in her basement. I also left my home
planet due to prejudice.” Geddask related their experiences to Large Luigi. It was oddly
comforting to them. They never imagined they’d find pleasant conversation with a beholder.
This place was full of surprises and they’d only left their planet about 4 or 5 hours ago!
Madalyn looked at the tavern’s menu. It was full of things she’d never heard of before. It all
seemed so foreign to her. Starfly fruit? Spaham?

“I guess I’ll try the spaham sandwich?” She said, feeling curious and mildly adventurous.
“Wait a minute… I don’t think my money’s any good here, is it?” Madalyn just realized her
currency was foreign.

“It’s fine. I’ll accept your coins as they are. Don’t worry about it. I’ll have that coming right
up!” Large Luigi assured her.

“You ordered without even asking what it is?” Geddask sounded a bit concerned.

“I sure did.” She said confidently.

“Do you know the local history of this city, Large Luigi?” Madalyn asked to occupy herself
while waiting for the mystery food.
“First it was a mind flayer outpost about eight or nine hundred years ago, and then a
beholder nation came in, wiped them all out four or five hundred years ago. Then the
beholders destroyed themselves. Some dwarven miners came in and disappeared without a
trace after that. A real mystery that one was. Nobody came along for several hundred years
until Captain Bral showed up! Bral was a notorious pirate and he needed a hideout. Ignoring
the rumors of “haunted space” in the area, he selected the Rock as an ideal lair. Air and
water were plentiful, and he seeded the topside and underside with trees and crops. The
caverns that form the modern docking caverns were his first home.” Large Luigi began to tell
the tale of his home city.

“So then what happened?” Madalyn was clearly sucked into this little history lesson.
Geddask was trying not to stare at all the patrons, trying to make themselves seem small.
They’d never been in a tavern before. It was all so strange. Captain Arnam handed them a
glass of ale. They’d never drank ale before and cautiously sipped it. It sort of burned, but they
somewhat liked how it tasted when they taste linked with the captain.

“Captain Bral was a charismatic leader and a brilliant tactician! He ended up with an entire
fleet he called the Black Brotherhood. A town built up around his port and more and more
people came. As the saying goes ‘If you build it, they will come.’. And they showed up in
spades! Many of them were rogues and thieves like him but a few were honest merchants and
entrepreneurs as well. The town was an endless revel of lawlessness and unchecked dueling.”
Large Luigi continued the story.

“What happened to Captain Bral?” Madalyn asked, curious to know what happened next,
ignorant to her companion happily drinking ale with the captain.

“The captain himself met a bad end… He took a raid of five ships down to Toril, somewhere
in the Sea of Fallen Stars. His raid was extremely successful and he plundered much loot
from your planet, but when he returned to orbit the Elven Imperial Navy was waiting for him.
Eight Man O Wars attacked his fleet and only one of them escaped. The whereabouts of that
ship is unknown. Bral himself had perished as his vipership, The Starwind, fell in a glorious
blaze back into Toril’s atmosphere! The citizens of the city threw a wild party in his honor
and named the city and the rock after him. For a century the rock remained a pirate’s haven.”
Large Luigi happily told her the tale. Geddask had knocked back the rest of their drink by
this point.

“So how did piracy become illegal?” Madalyn asked.

“All parties have to come to an end sometime. When the majority of the citizens weren’t
pirates any longer, tensions started to rise between shop owners and pirate crews. Most
pirate captains laughed at the ”lubbers’ wailing”. One did not. This was a captain named
Cozar. He sensed that times were changing on the Rock. The days of the pirates were
numbered, and he acted. Cozar systematically and quietly bought every square foot of land
on the Rock. Those who opposed the partitioning of the Rock into lots were simply bought
out, with promises of free leases continued in perpetuity to their descendants. Some powerful
or influential holdouts were granted land ownership privileges, forming the basis of today’s
nobility. In a matter of months, Cozar owned the Rock. Then he evicted all the pirates that
couldn’t produce any legitimate business. People got tired of the endless brawling in their
taverns and sided with Cozar almost unanimously.” Large Luigi answered.

“And then after that?” She asked.

“I think that’s a story for another chapter. Your spaham sandwich is ready.” He
telekinetically brings the plate to her. “You might want to check on your calamari lover.” The
beholder smirked.

“Madalyn I feel funny. My body feels a bit heavy. Have I been poisoned??” Geddask asked.
Madalyn looked at their empty glass and glared at Arnam.

“What did you give them??” She hissed.

“I only gave ‘em a glass of ale to loosen their nerves! I swear! I think yer friend is just a
lightweight.” He answered, drinking a second glass of ale. She lightly slapped Geddask’s
arm.

“You donkey! You haven’t been poisoned, you’re just tipsy!” Madalyn softly scolded them.
“Is this your first time drinking alcohol?” She asked.

“Yes. I think it tasted good but I don’t like this feeling. Can you fix it?” Geddask unsteadily
wrapped a tentacle around her wrist for comfort.

“Hey, Doc!” Madalyn called out to the cleric. “Can you help sober Geddask up? They don’t
like being inebriated.” She explained. Doc got up from his table and came over.

“Sure thing.” He said. The human man placed his hand on the illithid’s back. “Reparatio
minima!” And just like that, the unsteady feeling in their limbs was gone.

“Thank you. That’s better.” Geddask said. They released Madalyn so she could eat her
sandwich. It was some sort of grilled pinkish unidentifiable meat, a generous amount of
properly melted cheese, some sort of secret signature sauce of an orange color, topped with a
fried egg, all neatly contained between two slices of toasted bread. It looked somewhat
dubious to Geddask but Madalyn stared at it for a moment before picking it up and biting into
it.
“Mmm!” It was delicious! “It’s so good!” She covered her mouth, unable to not talk while
eating.

“What kind of meat is that?” Geddask asked the barkeeper.

“Spaham! Giant Space Hamster.” He answered.

“Space hamster…? I guess Minsc’s claims about Boo were right after all.” She shrugs and
continues eating it. Geddask taste linked with Madalyn, but their tentacles scrunched up,
clearly not a fan of it.

“Whatever floats your proverbial boat.” They said.

“Hey can I try some of that starfly fruit too?” Madalyn asked after finishing another eager
bite of her sandwich.

The beholder brought her a small plate with what looked like a white piece of durian pulp.
She drank some water to cleanse her palate and gave that a try. Geddask’s tentacles wiggled
in delight. “That’s so good!” It was sugary, creamy and similar to mangoes.

“It’s a bit too sugary for me, but I can stomach a few more bites for you.” Madalyn smiled.
As they ate their meal, Madalyn had a private question for Geddask.

“Why exactly did you leave your colony?” She asked him mentally. Geddask took a moment
to answer.

“I am willing to tell you when we are alone. It is something that makes me feel great shame.”
Geddask replied. Madalyn nodded understandingly.

“By the way, information from me isn’t free.” Large Luigi informed the two of them. Geddask
blinked at him and began reaching for their coin pouch that they kept secured.

“Oh no, the only currency I take for tales is a tale as well. How did you two meet?” The
beholder wanted to know.

Madalyn smiled. “Well. It all started down in Waterdeep’s sewers…” She began recounting
the tale of the terrified and battered illithid, turned into Toril’s angriest and mewling kitty,
much to the amusement of the sailors around them and a civil beholder barkeeper. Although
the story should be an embarrassing and humiliating tale to any illithid, Geddask’s tentacles
curled in fond remembrance.
A current appreciation for the warmth of companionship grew and a spark of hope for the
future was lit…
 Sleepover at Srebral's
Chapter Summary

Maybelle spends the night in Srebral's domicile.

Srebral had been rather upset by that qualith tablet he received this morning, dwelling on how
angry it made him. He had to stay out of his office in order to calm down. Thankfully,
business had gone well today. Maybelle’s cheerful disposition kept his mood from completely
souring. After all, he was the one who got to take her home tonight. The way she moved
energetically with a smile on her face, lifted his spirits. He didn’t yell at anyone or threaten to
fire them. He was becoming conscious about not appearing too angry in front of Maybelle.
He never wanted to see that smile fade because of him.

When she clocked out she saw that Srebral had bought her another present. He used the tips
she had been receiving in order to buy her another dress. It was earthy green with puffy
cream colored sleeves and a sash tied into a bow upon the waist. It came with a matching
handkerchief embroidered with mushroom designs to tie up her hair. Maybelle put it on. It fit
perfectly! Her massive breasts were properly covered by the clothes she wore. Srebral figured
that maybe she should have at least a few modest things in her wardrobe if she wanted them.

Maybelle twirled around in the dress, admiring the flowing skirt of it, before packing what
little belongings she had and going to Srebral’s office to meet up with him. He was counting
the money and closing up but she could sit and wait patiently while he finished. She knocked
on the door. “It’s just me, sir!” Maybelle announced.

“Come on in! It’s not locked.” Srebral invited her.

Maybelle quietly entered his office with a smile on her face. “What do you think…? Do you
like it?” She asked about the dress, twirling in it to show it off.

“Oh my Tentacled Lord… You’re adorable!” He exclaimed. Maybelle gave a cheerful little
giggle in response. “Is it comfortable? Nothing too tight?” He checked to make sure.

“It’s pretty! I love it!” She confirmed.

“I’m glad… Let me just lock up the safe and we’ll get going.” Srebral instructed.
Maybelle patiently waited for him to finish up, kicking her feet in the chair she was sitting in.
When he finished locking up the safe, she hopped up from her seat to follow him to the
domicile. “What do you want for dinner, Maybelle?” Srebral asked her.

“Hmmm… Potato soup, please!” She requested.

“Alright, I’ve got some empty jars. I’ll fill one up for us to take home.” Srebral agreed. He
dipped into the kitchen, using a ladle to pour some soup into a clean jar. It was still fairly
warm.

He grabbed a couple garlic sporebread rolls as well, wrapping them up and giving them to
Maybelle. All of their old left overs like the stale bread were given to the thralls in the thrall
caverns. Until they were ready to throw it out, the employees could eat the extra uneaten
food. Srebral ensured that waste was minimized. “Yay! Soup!” Maybelle cheered. She’d
eaten the dish practically every day. Srebral was surprised she hadn’t tired of it yet. Perhaps it
really was that good…

Maybelle said goodnight to all her co-workers and walked with Srebral to his domicile. “So
much nicer than being carried around like a sack of onions isn’t it?” He joked. Maybelle
chuckled at his joke.

“I didn’t mind that much. The end results are still the same. I get to be near you. How I got
there doesn’t matter.” She said. Srebral blushed at her comment, his tentacles curled, happy
that she chose to be here.

He unlocked the door to his domicile and let her inside. She hadn’t noticed the terrarium last
time and took a look at it. “What’s in there?” She asked.

“Oh. Those are my pill bugs!” He pulled out some diced onion he brought home and put it
into the enclosure. “Want to see them?” He asked.

“O-oh… I don’t… I don’t like bugs. I’m sure they’re very polite, I just don’t like to touch
them! Uhm. B-but just because I don’t like them, that doesn’t mean they’re not deserving of
respect!” She sounded nervous but tried to remain kind.

“It’s alright, Maybelle. I won’t make you handle them. They can’t get out of the tank.” He
assured her. “They’re harmless and they just eat decaying vegetables.” He calmly told her.
Maybelle cautiously inched closer to the tank to take a look. She could see a single isopod
coming to investigate the onions. It was kind of creepy to her so she backed up, not wanting
to think anything rude about them.
“You’re a braver person than me… I couldn’t be brave enough to feed them.” She admitted.

“Well thanks for humoring me anyway.” Srebral patted her head after closing the tank. He got
a bowl from his cupboard and poured her soup from the jar into it, setting the table for her to
eat dinner. Maybelle happily ate her meal, perhaps eating a bit faster because she was so
excited to see her second room. Srebral took his own dinner into his room, deciding not to eat
it in front of her.

Maybelle was a bit confused about why he seemed so shy about eating in front of her. Her
last owner, Vizaness, wasn’t. Today’s dinner wasn’t the usual dour duergar. It was a goblin
from Erux’s farm. He lived a peaceful life as a moss farmer. He sure got around a lot though.
It was an oddly comfortable and mellow taste. It made him want to make love on damp moss
in a mushroom cave with Maybelle. He blushed pale at what he just thought. Maybe he
should save those as a special treat…

He left his room when he was done, putting the brain jar in the wash basin. “Ready to see
your room, Maybelle?” Srebral asked her.

“Yes, please!” Maybelle hopped up from her seat and put her dishes in the washing basin.

“Without further ado… Behold!” He opened the door. Maybelle’s excitement was becoming
contagious. She covered her mouth, gasping in surprise.

The moss bed was topped with furs and a green linen blanket and fluffy moss pillows and a
comfortable skull shaped cushion. There was also a stuffed doll that looked like an illithid
with black buttons for eyes. Lighting was provided by glowcaps. Her desk was zurkhwood
with a matching chair. Little carved out shelves were stocked with parchment and oil pastels
for her art. There was a container full of chalk in a rainbow of colors! He had decorated it
with some of his crystal carved animals as well. Written on the inner wall was a message in
common in chalk. Maybelle was moved to tears. “It’s so nice! I love it, Srebral!” She hugged
him. He embraced her and grabbed a bit of his robes with a tentacle and wiped her tears.

“Can you tell me what the message on the wall says?” He softly asked her. Maybelle looked
at it. She knew the last bit was her name. “Sound it out.” He reminded her.

“W…Weh. Wehl. Wel.. com eh?” She tried.

“The E at the end is silent. Like in your name.” He reminded her.

“Welcome… Huh… Ho..me?” She said, unsure.

“Uh huh…” He encouraged her.

“Welcome home, Maybelle.” She read it. She hugged him once again, nuzzling her face
against his chest. “Thank you so much.” She once again expressed her gratitude. His
tentacles curled, delighted that she was happy with it.

“You’re welcome, Maybelle.” He told her.

She went inside and set her bag down on the desk. “You can draw on the walls as much as
you want in here too. I got you the parchment and pastels in case you manage to fill them up
with art.” He told her.

“There's so many colors!” Maybelle looked through it all.

“To encourage your creativity. I think your drawings are cute.” Srebral confessed.

“Then I'll be sure to fill everything with my art!” She promised.

She began disrobing in front of him to get ready for bed. “Ah! Wh-why are you getting
naked??” He still wasn't used to that.

“Bed time!” She answered. “Did you need or want some stress relief before bed?” There was
a hint of playfulness in her question. She could tell that she flustered him.

“Sure. What the hell? Let's break in that new bed.” He agreed. Srebral pulled off his clothes,
letting them drop to the floor. He pulled back the bedding, not wanting to make a mess of
what was brand new and clean. Maybelle climbed into bed with him. She started massaging
his back, starting with the base of his skull going down slowly.

He purred, feeling tension he didn't know he was holding melt away. “Oh yes… Your touch is
better than any male drow, Maybelle.” He complimented her.

“I don't know if I'm better than Elzaphir but I appreciate the thought.” Maybelle said.

“I don't need an appointment to see your smile. ” He said. She hummed thoughtfully at his
flirty debate and quietly agreed with it. He radiated the positive feeling as he leaned into it,
and she began to feel a pleasant sensation as if being massaged in return. She worked out any
knots in his back, her touch full of care and gentleness.
When he felt relaxed, he turned to face her “Want to have some fun too?” He asked her.
Maybelle smirked and brought two of his tentacles to her breasts.

“Yes, sir.” She replied in a sultry tone. He gently rubbed his clawed hands against her inner
thigh as his tentacles teased her nipples. She spread her legs more, and a third tentacle
teasingly rubbed her slit which was becoming wetter in a matter of minutes. She moaned
softly, grabbing his free tentacle and sucking on it.

“Oh fuck…” He purred deeply. “It really gets me going when you show me how much you
want it.” He confessed, pushing that tentacle in and out of her mouth and rubbing her vulva
with more enthusiasm. She took his tentacle deep down her throat of her own volition before
pulling the slimy appendage out of her mouth, letting the slime dribble down her chin.

“I know.” Maybelle panted. “That’s why I like doing it so much.” She smiled before giving
his tentacle another lick. Her breasts became slimier as his tentacles squeezed and teased
them.

“Want to try something new?” She asked. She hadn’t steered him wrong yet, so he was
curious.

“Sure. Show me what you want to do.” He was rather glad she had more experience than him,
because he sure as hell wouldn’t have accessed his elder brain’s repository of knowledge for
this, nor would he have had the courage to ask Vizaness.

“Alright so… You would lay down on your back, legs together…” She guided him to get
comfortable, resting his head on her pillows. She straddled him, facing his feet in a reverse
riding position. She then bent over, giving him a good view of her genitals. “Some of the
clients at my old job really liked this position because it gives them nice and easy access to
me while they laid back and relaxed.” Maybelle explained.

“How much would you say you enjoy it?” Srebral asked, putting a hand on her rear and softly
gripping it, taking a moment to appreciate the view. It had to have worked if other illithids
enjoyed it, but he wanted to make sure he was doing things that she didn’t just like, but
loved.

“It’s one of my favorites, along with laying side by side with you. This is basically one of my
go to positions.” Maybelle answered and wiggled her butt temptingly at him. “Go ahead and
experiment!” She enthusiastically encouraged him.
Srebral's tentacles reached out. One began to rub at her clitoris and she eagerly grinded
herself against it, moaning softly. Curiosity was getting the better of him as he moved a
tentacle over her anus, rubbing the tip over the entrance. “Are you alright with me touching
here?” He checked in with her.

“Uh-huh…! I-if you go slow, you can put it in if you want. It felt really good when Zusrall
tried it b-but a lot of illithids think it’s icky so they don’t touch th-ERE!” She moaned louder
as she felt the tip teasing her. She felt her face get hot, and Srebral turned pale with her.

“Oh God-Brain…!” He groaned in a gooey voice. “Maybelle... You’re not icky at all…!
That’s what soap is for. Those nasty idiots should just admit to not washing themselves.” He
assured her that her pleasure was as valid as his. Maybelle giggled a bit at his comment as
she continued her movements, getting more and more into it. She felt completely comfortable
with him and he loved every moment of it. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth as she panted,
eagerly taking it. He moved a third tentacle to her pussy, pressing against the entrance. “Do…
You… Want this too?” He checked in once more.

“Y-yes! Please give it to me! Pretty please??” She whined in a needy tone. Even the way she
begged for him to stimulate her was so cute to him. He couldn’t stop himself from obliging
her. He pushed the tentacle into her tight and wet hole. The way she squeezed his sensitive
tentacles made him purr and moan loudly. She started quivering more and more.

“You’re amazing, Maybelle! You're… So… Cute…! ...Soft…!” His head began to empty,
coherent thoughts becoming hazy. He rubbed her ass cheek, absentmindedly enjoying the
sensation of touch through their link. Thoughts faded to pure emotion. They became deeper
in each other's heads, connection persisting even without facing one another. Their psyches
rubbed against each other, generating a friction of unimaginable pleasure. She felt it raw and
deep, plunging ever deeper. Her face grew hot, before release came hard and loud for them
both. Her inner walls spasmed on his tentacles as she shivered and collapsed against him.

His tentacles went limp, resting inside of her for several moments before he slowly pulled
them out. His slime dripped out of her holes and onto him before she got off of him and
flopped onto her back, a giggling panting mess. “Oh gods… It’s still tingling… Ahaha…
Wow…” She mumbled.

“Wow, indeed. Thanks for sharing that… Let me help you clean up.” He gets up and tosses
his robes to her. “Fuck it. Use that for now. I have to wash it anyway. I’ll get you some soap,
water and a towel.” Srebral said. He left her to wipe herself up with his robes while he got
the supplies to clean up properly.
He returned after a few moments with everything, letting her wash up, and helping her clean
her back. Then he cleaned the bed and remade it. He was tired so he set everything aside to
pick up later. It never occurred to him to make Maybelle clean anything up because he
became used to doing most of it himself. “Can we cuddle?” She asked, climbing back into
her bed.

“Of course, Maybelle.” He climbed into bed with her. “But you know, I might fall asleep here
if I do…” He flirtatiously warned her.

“A Breeder Named Slisskbax said that thralls and illithids shouldn’t sleep in the same bed…”
Maybelle poked her fingers together.

“Slisskbax is a fucking hypocrite. He can take his Chronic Thrall Dependency crap and
shove it up his cloaca…” Srebral grumbled. “Don’t go repeating that to anyone, please.” He
was quick to add. “Is he your master?” He asked.

“No, sir.” Maybelle replied.

“Would you like it if I slept with you tonight?” He asked. Some pimp who wasn't his boss
didn’t get to dictate what he did with his thralls. That was between him and Maybelle.

“Yes! And when you’re not in my bed…” Maybelle hugged the illithid doll. “Little Srebral
can keep me company!” She smiled. He warmly chuckled at her nickname for the toy. She
got comfortable with him, snuggling down into the bedding. Srebral gently rubbed her back
in bed until the two of them became calm and sleepy. “Srebral…?” Maybelle whispered.
Srebral made a questioning gurgling noise. “I feel like the luckiest thrall in the colony… I
love you.” She confessed.

Srebral wrapped a tentacle around the brand of his ownership on her wrist. She was his. No
one would take that from him. “I love you too, Maybelle.” He quietly replied. Even when he
had a thrall in this room in the past, it still somehow felt empty… For the first time, he felt
like he wasn’t alone in his home.
 Well, Shit! We Ended Up in Waterdeep!
Chapter Summary

The party meets up with Yar'rel's lich patron to start getting their bearings.

The first thing they had to do was get directions to this inn known as Golden Harp.
Raphraxus scanned the crowds before settling on a human wizard. She was dressed in a very
fluffy green fleece cloak that looked incredibly warm and comfortable. “She seems like she
might be helpful. Let’s ask her for directions.” Raphraxus pointed the wizard woman out to
the group. Syllan approached her, it was the first time he’d ever approached a stranger
without being a nervous wreck.

“Excuse me, miss…?” He asked. She turned to face them from the stall she was looking at.
They sure were a motley crew to her. They must have been adventurers, especially with that
tall and mysterious stranger with them!

“Yes?” She gave them her attention.

“We uh, just teleported here and we’re kind of lost. Do you know how to get to the Golden
Harp?” He asked. She smiled, happy to give them some help!

“Oh, yes! I know where that is.” She pulled out a map from her bag. “It’s on Skulls Street
just off the high road. That’s in the Sea Ward north of here. You’re currently on the other end
of the city in the Dock Ward. If you follow the road that way, you'll end up on Spices Street,
then follow it north to The Way of the Dragon. You can find a dray that can take you, so you
don’t have to walk it in this cold. Take a dray that rides the high road and ride it all the way to
the second street just before the end of the line, which is the wall that separates the rest of the
city from the Field Ward. The Golden Harp is just a hop and a skip once you get off on Skulls
Street.” She said, giving detailed directions.

“Thank you!” Syllan said.

“By the way, if you plan on staying for more than a tenday, you have to register with a
magister at the harbor, the gates or the city courts. Arcane spellcasters are also required to
register with the Watchful Order of Magists and Protectors so that they can be called upon to
defend the city in times of need.” She informed Syllan.
“I see… Thank you for the information.” Syllan said, returning to his party. “She said we
could find something called a dray to take us to Skulls Street.” Syllan told his party.

“Nice! Let's get going! Wait, what's a dray?” Zarimm asked. Phoebe had the answer to that.

“A dray is a two deck carriage designed to carry multiple people. It's a design employed
exclusively in Waterdeep.” Phoebe said.

The wizard from a moment ago ran up to them. “Oh wait wait! I just remembered! The dray
fare takers only accept coins minted in the city. Do you have any Waterdeep currency?” She
wanted to make sure they could actually board it.

“Uhm… Shit. No…” Syllan mumbled. She handed him a single gold dragon.

“That'll cover you for sure. The fare is between 2 and 4 nibs per person.” She said.

“Thank you kindly, miss!” Syllan smiled. He tried to give her a gold piece in exchange.

“Don’t worry about it. I won’t miss that coin.” She smiled softly, waving her hand
dismissively. “Good luck!” She went back to shopping.

“She was really nice… Good eye, Raph.” Zarimm said.

“What can I say? I've got a sixth sense for people.” He joked privately to them. As they
walked to the street they needed to catch the dray, Raphraxus could tell something was
bothering Syllan. “What's troubling you, Syllan?” he asked the half elf.

“I’ll talk about it more in depth with everyone but… We have a problem. We have to be
registered with the magistrates if we stay more than a tenday. I’m thinking about what we’re
going to do next. If we can even stay here or not. It’s not as if we can be honest about what
you are to most people…” Syllan informed him.

“That is indeed a problem as ulitharids usually are not accepted as citizens in most places. A
rather cruel irony is it not? Only mind flayers can be citizens in Oryndoll but we can't be
citizens pretty much anywhere else…” Raphraxus pondered. “Maybe I can cut a deal like uh,
what's their name… Sangalor! They really didn't deserve all the hate they got from birth.” He
thought.

“Who's that?” Syllan asked.

“About a century ago, Sangalor was a cleric of Oghma who lived in Waterdeep with the
secret permission of the lords. They had some kind of arrangement I guess. When they
spawned in Ch'chitl, they hated Sangalor immediately after they were born. They had a
business uncovering secrets here in Waterdeep.” Raphraxus shared his knowledge. He had
learned more about that particular illithid after accidentally offending a traveler from
Ch’Chitl by merely mentioning that name. He was quite young when he made that mistake.

“Damn, imagine being so hated on the day you were born. That's so fucked up!” Syllan
mentally commented. “I'm sure we'll figure something out. You're special… I'm sure someone
somewhere will appreciate you like I do…” Syllan assured his lover. Raphraxus found
himself completely overwhelmed, holding onto Syllan’s hand and looking through his eyes
by linking senses. Even then he couldn’t really focus. Wagons, carts, horse and pony riders,
carriages, buggies, hire-coaches, and Waterdeep's signature towering drays all surged through
the major road. They weren’t even sure where to start or board!

Thankfully Yar’rel and Syllan were faster to catch on and more attentive. Due to Raphraxus’
height, he had to ride in the dray’s top deck. Syllan gave the fare taker his coin, apologizing
that it was all he had to cover everyone’s fare. The total fare for everyone was 20 nibs, which
is what they called copper pieces and they received 8 silver pieces in return as change. The
aberration felt a little self conscious being next to complete strangers, and avoided making
eye contact with anyone. He held Syllan’s hand for comfort.

Phoebe made note of a bookstore, Barendarr’s World of Words on the way. She seemed
interested in exploring once they got their bearings. “It’s been too long since I’ve been able to
enter a proper bookstore…” Phoebe said.

“We’re not here to vacation, Phoebe.” Yar’rel said.

“I mean we kind of are if you think about it.” Zarimm said. “Besides, checking out a new
place could be interesting!” He proposed. They were basically going into hiding with an
aberration, but who said they couldn’t have fun?

They passed a tavern called The Underdark, which Syllan quietly pointed out to Raphraxus.
“Amusing, but no.” He would be so out of place in a tavern. He thought performance eating
was overrated even in his homeland. His favored form of entertainment was watching
gladiators. He spent quite a bit of time alone back in Oryndoll, holding others at a
comfortable distance. He never really thought about how lonely he’d made himself until he
came to the surface with Syllan.
The pressure from his elders to grow into a powerful Tamer and put his creed back on the
map was strong and the burnout from it all made him into a disappointment to everyone
anyway. Maybe it was better this way. “Syllan…? I’m not really sure who or what I want to
be outside of well… Us… It feels wrong to be so aimless.” Raphraxus confided in Syllan.

“Raph, none of us know what we’re doing with our lives, and that’s alright because life is just
doing stuff until somebody yells at you.” Syllan responded.

“That’s an oversimplification, but you aren’t wrong…” Raphraxus said.

“We’ve figured it out so far… We can do so much together. I just know it. Everyone has
different paths in their lives.” Syllan's thoughts were confident. “I’m glad that our paths got
to cross.” He gave Raphraxus’ hand a reassuring squeeze and leaned against him. Soon,
businesses and commerce gave way to them passing many noble villas. Zarimm whistled,
impressed by all the fancy sights and nobility. It was quite a ride but they made it to Skulls
Street. When they disembarked, they quickly found the Golden Harp.

The inside of the inn was cheery and well lit. A golden magical harp was floating about,
playing a beautiful melody for the patrons. “Yar’rel!” One of the patrons stood up and called
to her. An elderly half elf with white hair and sulfur yellow eyes got up from his seat. He was
wearing black robes and a wide brimmed black hat.

“My love!” She approached the stranger and hugged him. This must have been the lich
Zhekyl in disguise. This was actually only the second time anyone in her party had seen
Zhekyl in person.

She kept her relationship with her patron private for quite some time just like Syllan hid his
relationship to Raphraxus. They had accidentally found out when Phoebe had followed her
one day to find out where she was going off alone. She had until now refused to invite her
party to the magnificent mansion. “Come. The room is already paid for. You must be cold
and stressed.” Zhekyl ushered them to their room, wrapping his arm around Yar’rel.

“You don’t know the half of it. I’ve been smelling ghaik everywhere I go…” She mumbled as
they entered the room.

“I take it that you’re the sorcerer’s boyfriend with the distinct scent.” The lich took off his
hat, revealing his wrinkled and ancient form. Any illithid would have absolutely shit
themselves at the sight of him. Raphraxus stood behind Syllan and gave a polite but nervous
wave.
“Yes. I am the one she calls the ghaik. A pleasure to meet you.” Raphraxus replied, trying to
remain cordial. He couldn’t look like a wimp in front of Syllan!

While this room was quite nice, what would be placed within it would be far nicer. “ Sie
Domum Magnificus!” Zhekyl began to cast the spell. Over the next minute a faintly
shimmering portal began to appear in the center of the room. “Are your friends allowed in?”
Zhekyl asked. “It would probably be rather rude to leave them behind.” He said. Yar’rel
looked at Raphraxus and grumbled. All of her party members looked at her expectantly.

“I suppose…” She frowned.

“Good, because I already designated them as people who can enter.” The lich said, with a soft
wheezy laugh.

He and Yar’rel walked through the portal first. Raphraxus entered with Syllan next, wanting
to seem brave, followed by Zarimm and Phoebe. The inside was clean, fresh and warm. It
was a clean, slightly sweet, yeasty aroma that somehow smelled warm, like they were
inhaling a blanket on a cold winter day. “It smells like baking bread in here.” Zarimm noted.

“Because that’s what I smelled the day I met Yar’rel.” Zhekyl said. They had arrived in a
magnificent foyer.

Everyone had a private bedroom and bath. There was an opulent and well lit dining room,
with a table large enough for everyone in which dinner would be served. There was a stocked
library as well with a cozy fireplace and large cushioned chairs. The staff included 100 near
transparent servants, all of whom looked like attractive members of various humanoids.

“So how did you two meet anyway?” Raphraxus asked the lich.

“We met in the bakery she was working in.” Zhekyl responded.

“Aww, how romantic.” Zarimm complimented.

“Baking bread? What an unlikely career path for a githyanki. How’d you end up doing
that?” He asked her.

“As if I’ll ever tell you, Ghaik!” Yar’rel hissed.

“Such hostility over a simple question…” Raphraxus said. “Is this the racism talking or
something else, Syllan?” He asked.
“No way! I’m not saying anything! She said she’d stab me if I told anyone!” Syllan waved
his arms.

“Now I have to know!” Zarimm said. “Come on! I share my embarrassing stories with you
all the time!” He tried to persuade her into spilling the beans.

“Often against my will.” Yar’rel added.

“Actually, I’m curious too.” Phoebe admitted.

“We’re all friends here, Yar’rel. We won’t make fun of you.” Zarimm said.

“... I’ll still make fun of you for your lack of muscle but will otherwise behave myself.”
Raphraxus added.

“Actually, I’d like to know as well. I’ve known you for over a year and you never really
talked about it, but you can tell me in private if it’s too embarrassing.” Zhekyl said. Yar’rel
blushed, her face turning pink when her patron spoke up.

“I don’t want to say it in front of the ghaik!” She growled.

“That would require me to move two miles away from you.” Raphraxus said. “Besides, I’m
pretty sure your patron would kill me if I used your secrets against you. I don’t even think
Syllan would forgive me.” He pointed out. Yar’rel sighed, being hounded by her party for the
juicy secrets of her past.

“I grew up in a creche like any other githyanki. Killing a mindflayer and bringing their head
back to Vlaakith is a rite of passage for us.” She began to explain.

“I’m well aware.” Raphraxus said.

“I… Failed. I spent my life after that wishing that ghaik had killed me. I couldn’t go back
after that. Too shameful. They would have exiled me anyway. I found a bakery, and started
doing more humble work because I didn’t deserve to call myself a warrior…” She frowned.

“I suppose my presence must have caused a sore spot then… You know, you deserve kudos
just for making it through the training!” The aberration joked.

“Sh-shut up!” Yar’rel held back tears.

“We have one thing in common…” Raphraxus said.

“What could I possibly have in common with a ghaik!?” She hissed.

“We’re both from hyper-militaristic backgrounds that put an absurd amount of pressure on us
to succeed? I felt… Stuck in my colony. Like I wasn’t succeeding as well as everyone wanted
me to. I felt like I was just letting everyone down and getting burnt out. Then Syllan literally
teleported into my life…” Raphraxus admitted, sharing that vulnerable moment with them.

“Just like Zhekyl walked into mine. The strangest old man I’ve ever met.” She smiled fondly.
“We made a pact and I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself.” Yar’rel said.

“Wait. So Syllan lied when he said he was teleporting to his parents?” Phoebe asked.

“Th-this isn’t about me!” Syllan tried to deflect the question.

“You teleported into his lair to have sex with him!?” Zarimm asked out loud. Syllan covered
his face with his hands.

“You’d expect those kinds of shenanigans from the bard…” Zhekyl said.

“You make it sound so trashy!” Syllan whined.

“To be fair, it kind of was, but I have to give him props for his boldness.” Raphraxus’
tentacles curled. “He told me he wanted me to be his leap of faith. It was so cute…” He
wrapped his arms around the embarrassed sorcerer, keeping him from running away. His
tentacles wrapped around his arms pulling Syllan’s hands away from his reddened face.

“And I’m glad I decided to take this leap of faith with you, no matter how hard the landing at
the bottom may be.” Raphraxus said, pressing his forehead to that of his lover’s. Raphraxus
allowed Syllan to wrap his arms around him in a hug.

“Sheesh. It took me and Zhekyl three years to get to third base…” Yar’rel said, ruining
Syllan’s romantic headspace. She got a laugh out of Zarimm and even Phoebe snickered at it.

Raphraxus swept Syllan off his feet. “Alright. That’s enough teasing Syllan for now. Any
more embarrassment, and his origin might change to red dragon.” He said.

“Oh… Hey, sorry if we went too far, buddy.” Zarimm apologized. “Are you alright?” He
asked.

“Mn… Fine… J-ju-just… Need to be… Alone.” Syllan muttered.

“Sorry, Syllan…” Phoebe felt bad for making her friend uncomfortable.
“...If it helps, it made me feel better about my embarrassing story…” Yar’rel tried to help.

“He’ll be alright. I’m just going to take him to a quiet spot to calm down.” Raphraxus took
them to their room.

Their time in Waterdeep was already off to a very interesting start…

 We're Staying at a Nice Inn
Chapter Summary

Run Like the Wind and Dess unwind from their travels at the Inn of Seven Stars. They
start to grow closer.

As the nimblewright and the gnome ceremorph in disguise walked through the streets at a
leisurely pace, shopkeepers were slowly closing up their shops and stalls for the night. Dess
was taking in his surroundings, watching people go about their business. Ormath had a
thorough guard of patrol units that also kept watch of Pikeman's Folly, the road connecting
the city to Lheshayl and Hlondeth. It didn't take very long to find a guard to ask him for
directions.

“Excuse me, sir!” Dess piped up at a human man dressed in his town guard uniform.

“What can I do for you travelers?” The guard turned his attention to them, looking down at
Dess.

“Could you give us some directions please?” He asked.

“What are you looking for?” The human man asked.

“Could you tell us where the inns are?” Dess asked.

“Of course! Both of them are quality establishments. Thunderhoof Lodge is in the South
East, close to Pikeman's Folly. The Bard of Starmantle once stayed there! Here in the North
part of the city, you'll find the Inn of Seven Stars. The candied yams and roast mutton they
offer are delicious too! They offer hot baths and I mean no offense, but it seems like you need
one…” The guard made his recommendations. A bath sounded so good to Dess right now. He
did feel a bit ripe.

“My apologies for any unpleasant odor. I hadn't had a chance to bathe due to extenuating
circumstances. I'll take your advice. By the way, I would like to report an incident.” He said.

“We already handled it, Dess. Besides, I don't think he can do anything about it.” Wind spoke
up.
“What happened? Is there trouble?“ The guard asked.

“We were attacked on the road from Assam by a quartet of bandits.” Dess said.

“Ah… Unfortunately your armored friend is right. We're not consigned to patrol that road.
You'd want to hire a mercenary for that.” The man sounded apologetic.

“Understandable. If you see a dwarf wearing a pink hat who's missing his hand, they're not
nice people and you should keep an eye on them. They might show up for medical care
because my friend cut his hand off.” Dess warned.

“Sounds like he got his just desserts then.” The guard smirked. “We'll keep an eye out.
Thanks for the tip! Anyway, just follow the street that way and take the third right.” He
assured Dess before giving him more complete directions.

“Thanks for your help!” Dess waved goodbye as he and Run Like the Wind made their way
to the Inn of Seven Stars. “What a nice man.” He remarked to Wind.

Run Like the Wind spotted the wooden sign of the inn, with seven painted stars at the bottom.
The entry bell rang pleasantly as the two of them entered the establishment. The horseshoe
shaped bar had locals and travelers alike at it, and people were enjoying roast mutton, potato
stew and candied yams for dinner. Wind approaches the bar to talk to a young human woman
with brown hair in a ponytail and hazel eyes. “Hello. Who would we ask about getting a
room?” Run Like the Wind asked her.

“That would be me. We only have one room left. It’s only got one bed, so we can’t give you
separate accommodations if you want them.” She said.

“We’re fine with that.” Run Like the Wind told her. Dess briefly read her mind out of
curiosity.

“They’re like that, huh?” The innkeeper thought.

“Can we get some roast mutton to our room and do you have any baths at this hour?” Run
like the Wind requested.

“Sure, we can get you two tubs.” She answered.

“Just one is fine.” Wind said.

“Oh, they’re like that! I see…” She thought. “Alright, then! We’ll get you a hot bath going.
Our baths are private, but do keep the noise down.” She winked. “That’ll be 4 gold and the
room is upstairs, third door on the left!” She said.
Run Like the Wind paid the innkeeper, and she gave them the key. They went upstairs to set
their stuff in their room. “Why did that lady wink at you? What keeps making people think
that we are having relations??” Dess mentally questioned Run Like the Wind. Wind’s
expressionless face just stared at Dess silently for a moment.

“I really have no idea…” He replied.

“I don’t mind letting people think what they want. It might make us appear less suspicious.”
Dess reasoned.

A little bit of steam came out of the nimblewright and he covered the sides of his face.
“Right…” He said, setting down his bag of their gear. “I suppose that’s as sound logic as any.
Humanoids are confusing…” Wind agreed. “I don’t mind pretending to be your lover if we
need to as cover.”

“Lover??” It was Dess’ turn to blush. “I don’t really understand humanoid courtship…” Dess
poked his fingers together. “I think you’re supposed to feed me dinner first…”

“Uh… Let me take a look at your head. I need to see your injury…” Wind locked the door
and changed the subject because he was unsure how to respond.

“Oh, right… It is a bit sore…” Dess admitted, taking his hat off. There was a small grey lump
on his head, and the area was bruised a dark grey color.

“I think it might be bruised? It’s greyer than the rest of the skin…” Run Like the Wind said,
guessing.

“Can I link with your sense of sight for a moment to look?” Dess asked. Wind nodded. The
gnome ceremorph might know better than him anyway. Wind wasn’t a healer or trained in
first aid.

“Ooh, there is a nasty little bump on my head. It’s a bit sore but I’m not suffering any
cognitive failures or adverse side effects. I think I just need to take it easy and put something
cold on it for a bit.” Dess said. Wind gently put his hand on the bruise. Keegan once told him
his hands were cold. Maybe it would help. “That’s actually not a bad idea…” Dess giggled
with a gurgled voice. Wind thought it was an immensely cute sound.

“You’ll be alright..?” Wind wanted to make sure.

“You’re fussing over me an awful lot, you know…” Dess blushed. “Seriously, I’m not hurt
that badly. It’s just a little bruise.” The gnome ceremorph assured his traveling companion.

“Alright. Let’s go get you a bath then.” Wind said. He made sure that Dess had his disguise
secured as the two of them left their room and went into the inn’s bathing area. There was a
decently sized wooden tub filled with warm water. Once the door was shut, Wind brought
himself in front of it to keep guard.

“I’ll keep a look out for you to ensure your privacy.” Wind offered.

“Thanks. I appreciate you.” Dess said. He got out of his clothes and levitated into the tub. It
was hot! He made a surprised gurgle.

“Are you alright?” Wind asked.

“Yes, I just have to get used to it.” Dess said. “It's actually really nice…” They relaxed once
they were acclimated.

Dess started washing themselves down with the soap. Neither of them could tell, but it
smelled of roses. He was careful not to rub too hard on his head. “Do you want help washing
your back?” Run Like the Wind asked.

“You don't mind?” Dess asked. He wanted to make sure he wasn't imposing too much or
treating Wind like a servant.

“No, I don't mind.” Run Like the Wind confirms. He took the soap from Dess and rubbed it
against his back.

“I'm already starting to feel better! There's something rejuvenating about a hot bath!” Dess
said. If Run Like the Wind could smile, he would. He was glad that his traveling companion
remained in high spirits even after they had been accosted by bandits. Dess’ tentacles curled
contently as they enjoyed their bath, staying in the tub perhaps a bit longer than he needed
to.

Run Like the Wind let them stay in the tub as long as they wanted to without complaint as
they began discussing what to do next. “So we'll be taking Pikeman's Folly next. That'll lead
us through Hlondeth.” Wind informed them.

“Hlondeth is known for its distinct emerald hued architecture. I don't remember much other
than the fact that everything was pretty. That and the kobolds are slaves.” Dess said.
“Oh. Well gee, that's interesting…” Wind said sarcastically. “Why kobolds specifically?” He
asked.

“Something about an invasion nearly a millennium ago I think.” Dess responded.

“So a thousand years of descendants are paying for the crimes of their ancestors?” Wind
asked.

“Yep! That's more or less the gist of it.” Dess confirmed.

“I guess that's just one of the risks of war…” Wind said. He got Dess a towel and handed it to
him. Dess patted away the excess water and put his disguise back on. Wind picked up Dess’
dinner from the bar on the way and took it up to their room.

“Hopefully this is good enough for you to eat?” Wind hoped, giving him the leg of mutton on
a plate. Dess picked it up with his tentacles, latching around the roasted mutton and tearing
little bits off with his razor sharp teeth. It was so tender and warm!

“This has a very satisfying texture. It makes me wish I could taste it like the humans do.”
Dess was happy to fill his stomach with both his and Wind's plates.

“I never really thought too much about taste.” Wind admitted. “It's not something I need to
do, so it doesn't bother me that I can't if that makes sense.”

Dess nodded their head in understanding as they tore the meat apart. It was the most they had
eaten in several days. “Sorry if I look less than dignified.” The ceremorph mentally
apologized. He knew he was eating like a ravenous animal.

“It's fine. I really don't mind.” Run Like the Wind assured him. It was oddly kind of cute but
he didn't want to make Dess feel self conscious.

He moved to the window and opened it a bit to stick his hand out of it. Dess thought it was
odd behavior. “What are you doing?” He asked.

“Trying to make my hand colder for your bruise.” Wind said. Dess was amused by the
nimblewright's behavior.

“Alright, friend. Thanks for your help.” He went back to tearing into the second bit of
mutton. He wasn't sure how much it would really help, but the effort Wind was putting in to
help him made him feel cared for.
He was glad he was traveling with someone who was so kind to him. Perhaps it was merely
his imagination, but it felt like they had a lot in common. After finishing off the meat, he set
the plates on a small table in the room to take out in the morning. Dess then took his clothes
off to sleep and buried himself within clean sheets and blankets. The way he slept with only
his tentacles sticking out was endearing to Wind.

To Dess’ surprise, Wind climbed into the bed with him, he then gently placed his cool
metallic hand on the bruise on his head. Dess giggles softly. “Thank you, Healer Wind.” He
said with playful sarcasm. He closed his eyes, getting sleepy.

Being on the road was more tiring than he thought, and he wasn't even doing most of the
walking! “You're welcome.” Run Like the Wind said, not catching on to Dess’ sarcasm.

“You know, I technically fed you dinner… Does that mean something?” Wind pointed out.
“Are we ‘going steady’ as they say?” He asked. Dess laughed before wrapping a tentacle
around Wind's metallic wrist.

“I honestly don't know how to answer that question.” Dess admitted.

“Whatever it is, I think you're doing a good job.” He complimented his metal friend. He
closed his eyes, getting comfortable. He slowly drifted off to sleep with his tentacle lazily
wrapped around Wind's wrist, dreaming of their travels on the road…
 Into the Dungeon pt 2.
Chapter Summary

Addanil's dungeon delving takes a strange yet prosperous turn when they bully a young
deep dragon that calls himself a duke.

“Are we ready to go further, Ames?” You asked him. Those skeletons were such inefficient
guardians, it didn't at all seem like a big deal to you. Nobody had gotten even a single
scratch!

“Do we have to?” Addanil thought. “Yes. Onward!” Addanil put on a false show of bravado
before you could answer him.

“So… Mogs, right?” Addanil asked the kobold.

“That's my name! Don't wear it out!” He replied.

“Who's your leader?” Addanil wanted to know.

“Well second in command is Zavi. She's special. Knows magic and can fly. The smartest of
us. That's why she's chief.” Mogs said.

If the chief had someone above them, it was likely a dragon. Kobolds were known for their
subservience to dragons. “And who's at the top? A dragon?” He asked to confirm.

“Zardaug, Duke of the Deep. We give them stuff we take from travelers. The rust monsters
were to make sure that warriors don't follow us down.” Mogs confirmed.

“They must be a young dragon to give themselves such a pompous title.” Addanil thought to
you. “I see. Do you know how old the duke is?” He asked Mogs.

“They are young but smart and strong. They give us lots of mushrooms to eat. We never go
hungry.” Mogs said.

“I was right on the money.” Addanil sounded smug. “A dragon? Wow, how lucky for you.”
He said.
Tavoril looked unsure but Bilban relished the challenge. Addanil sounded confident that your
group and he could handle it. As your group walked further in, they found what looked to be
a buried castle staircase. In the other direction, there was a tunnel that required a bit of
swimming to get through. Of course a dragon wouldn't make getting to it so easy…

“The rest of us live there… The other tunnel leads to our boss. Only Zavi is allowed in the
boss’ lair.” Mogs said.

“I see. Well we would love to entertain the duke. Songbird here is a very talented bard, and
we definitely have some offerings.” Addanil lied. “So are we bringing our diplomacy to the
duke or are we giving Mogs’ tribe a little visit?” He asked the group.

“I don’t feel like massacring this kobold’s entire tribe in front of him yet. I don’t have the
desire to keep this disposable minion docile.” Addanil confided in you.

“I think visiting the duke sounds like a great idea!” You said. “Addanil, that sounds rather
cruel…” You mentally scolded him.

“Alright. Mogs, stay here and don’t tell anyone that we are here.” Addanil commanded.

“You got it!” Mogs saluted Addanil.

“Hope you two know how to swim.” Addanil said as he picked you up bridal style and
levitated through the tunnel to keep you from getting wet. Bilban shrugged and began
swimming through the tunnel. Tavoril, not wanting to be left behind, followed in after the
three of them.

“Cruel as it may be, their brains would be the most ‘ethical’ to acquire if I can get them
without arousing suspicion from the others. They’re bandits. What value do they have to the
civilians they steal from? If anything, we’d be doing the travelers of the road a favor and
make it a little safer for them.” Addanil reasoned.

“I guess it is better than killing an innocent person, but how will you get their brains? It’s not
like we have pickling supplies and normal people don’t walk around with a sack full of
brains!” You argued.

“Those are both very good points. I guess I will have to figure out how to get a brain from
elsewhere…” Addanil lamented.

“Poor Addanil, being denied his favorite snack.” You teased him. He briefly thought of
threatening to drop you into the water below, but he knew both of you would never take it
seriously.
The tunnel led into an even larger cave, with a peaceful stream running through it. It looked
like some attempt at construction had been made here due to there being some paved stones
here as well, but what could have been or what would have been here was anyone’s guess.
Once on dry land, the path of barely paved stones continued further in. There was yet another
empty chamber, which contained nothing but rusty weapons, and to their right was a natural
cavern going even further down.

“Nothing but junk here.” You pointed out. It was best to move on. There wasn’t so much as a
chair or bed.

As you descended, the tunnels began to look more and more natural. The last of the paved
stones gave way to the root system of some ancient tree above. You clamber over some
massive roots as you look for the path forward. The tunnel you followed took you to a drop
ever deeper. It looked to be at least 100 ft. deep. Bilban secured a piton into the earth and tied
his rope to it. “Looks like we’ll be climbing down…” He said. He took Tavoril’s rope and
tied it to his so that they could reach the bottom safely.

Tavoril and Bilban began descending down the rope and Addanil waited until we got near the
bottom before deciding it was safe to follow. “Shall we?” Addanil was offering to take you
down himself. There was something romantic about the way he carried you over all your
obstacles. He wanted to make sure you wouldn’t fall from such a drop. He pulled you close
and held you securely, before descending down into the Underdark. You kissed his cheek as
you glided down to the bottom weightlessly. He blushed underneath his illusion.

Despite his tendency for cantankerous callousness, you knew he was capable of being
thoughtful and sweet. “Your safety has always been at the forefront of my priorities.”
Addanil confessed to you.

“I could tell by the way you rushed in to save me from those scary skeletons.” You mentally
replied, smiling softly.

“I only wish I looked a little less pathetic in that fight…” He admitted.

“Hey! You did a number on that big skeleton! Don’t count yourself out.” You encouraged
him. Addanil’s feet touched the ground and he gently set you down.

“Show off…” Tavoril said to Addanil. Tavoril knew he probably didn’t have a chance against
a magic man who could carry the bard like a princess.
“That’s right, you perverse cur! This is my person…” Addanil thought to himself
triumphantly. They continued into a large cave, filled with glowcap mushrooms and
ripplebark. There were stalactites and stalagmites and a few columns in this large chamber.
An unusually large winged snake clung to the stalactites, well hidden though your eyes
caught the glimpse of its scales.

“Zardaug, we can see you.” Addanil declared. “You won’t catch us by surprise. Give us your
treasure or we’re going to kill you like we destroyed your skeletal minions.” He threatened.
The snake hissed and revealed his true form. A large deep dragon. His solid yellowed eyes
stared at the party, letting out a deep hiss as it moved towards the outcropping of stalagmites
where he hid his hoard. It wore a monocle over one of his eyes. Through it, Zardaug could
see the illithid for what it really was. He knew he was no match for an illithid and its
companions if the kobolds had failed to stop them. What lousy minions!

“Perhaps you would prefer rumors of an even greater treasure than mine?” Zardaug attempted
to buy themselves time to think of what to do. Maybe the others did not know they were
working with a mind flayer…

“I’m listening…” Addanil had no intention of leaving without any money, but they would get
as much information out of the dragon as they could.

“To the south there is a city called Sheirtalar. No one has ever claimed the treasures within
since it partially sunk during the Spellplague. Perhaps you would be more interested in that
than my humble hoard…” Zardaug tried to offer.

“That’s nice to know but one small problem. I already promised to pay these gentlemen. I’m
not leaving without some wealth to show for it.” Addanil said.

“You guys are aware that your greedy companion is a mind flayer, right?” Zardaug threw out
that bombshell. Perhaps he could turn them against the illithid if it hadn’t already turned them
into thralls. Why else would it bother disguising itself as a human? You laughed
uncomfortably.

“Ahaha! What?! No there’s nooooot!” You tried to deny it.

“I never had a chance because you’re a thrall!?” Tavoril cried

“I’m not a thrall you lying sausage promising flirt!” You yelled.

“That does explain the levitating and the strange smell…” Bilban casually said.

“No it doesn’t! Because the dragon is a liar!” You denied hotly.

“Oh, my gem of true seeing is seeing lies? That’s not a hat of disguise??” Zardaug put more
fuel on the proverbial fire.

“Is it true, Ames? Is that even your real name?” Bilban asked. He didn’t seem afraid of
Addanil. His question came from a place of curiosity. Addanil remained silent, unsure what
to say or do. Now was not the time for this!

“He’s taking the treasure!” You shouted. Zardaug was using the drama as a distraction to
gather his hoard and leave! You cast your Cloud of Daggers spell in front of it. “Ames!
Now!” You yelled. Addanil used his telekinesis to start pulling Zardaug towards the slashing
daggers. The young dragon screeched as it flailed.

“Excito Mortuus!” Zardaug cast Animate Dead. The bones of one of his previous meals
animated back to unnatural life into the form of a single humanoid skeleton. He intended to
break the illithid’s concentration by scaring Addanil with what he feared most.

“It’s just a skeleton. Eyes on the prize.” You tell him, inspiring him. Tavoril and Bilban both
shot arrows at the skeleton, effortlessly taking it down before it could do anything substantial.
You whispered a discordant melody. “Hear this song, what you deserve; a painful tune, to
wrack your nerves.” You cast Dissonant Whispers. Although your melody caused the deep
dragon some pain, it made no effort to get away from you. Zardaug’s resolve was stronger
than your song.

Addanil knew well that deep dragons valued their own survival first and foremost. If he
showed no fear, he figured he could convince Zardaug that he was in mortal danger. “This is
the only chance I’m giving you to live. Flee or die.” He approached Zardaug, levitating
menacingly and produced the phantasmal image of an uliatharid to the deed dragon. He
released his telekinesis, allowing Zardaug to flee.

“Well that was easy…” You remarked. "Alright, everyone pack up the goods and grab what
you can carry before he comes back!” You encouraged the group. Tavoril and Bilban looked
at each other before rushing towards the hoard. Addanil kept an eye out for him to return. If
he came back, Addanil would be prepared to try and scare them off again. Addanil grabbed a
small and closed display cabinet of art objects and gemstones. A chest of coins was hoisted
up by you and Tavoril.

“We’ll count and split everything up once we return. As promised, you will receive a fair
portion. Songbird wouldn’t let me do anything less.” Addanil said.
“Damn, right!” You said confidently.

“Are you really a mind flayer?” Bilban asked, questioning his lack of dominance. The bard
definitely wasn’t a thrall. Addanil’s eyes squinted at him in annoyance. The jig was pretty
much up anyway. “Did you know the entire time? You weren’t really robbed by elves, were
you?” Bilban continued his line of questioning to you as you climbed up, bringing the goods
with you. It was at least a couple hundred extra pounds to hoist up with you. Zardaug
thankfully did not return to harass you.

You didn’t sense any hostility from Bilban. He remained affable, but could you trust Tavoril?
“He’s done no wrong to you. I won’t allow you to harm him. Now that you know the truth,
we have no plans to stick around much longer.” You told Tavoril, trying to convince him that
they weren’t a threat. “He is a mind flayer. His true name is Addanil.” You said. He removed
his hat briefly to show them. The deception was over.

“Songbird was my thrall, but no longer. I made a vow to never harm or deceive them. I will
never enthrall them again. We are…” Addanil blushed trying to explain their situation.

“Lovers.” You finished his sentence.

“That’s so weird…” Tavoril grimaces.

“You’re weird! Your thoughts about my partner disgust me! I didn’t even want to bring you
in the first place! It was Songbird’s idea to hire you!” Addanil snapped. Bilban laughed.

“I tried to tell you, Tavoril…” He said.

“Definitely not a thrall.” Bilban nodded. “But it does seem weird to keep traveling with the
guy who enslaved you…” Bilban made a face.

“He wasn’t responsible for that.” You were quick to defend him. “A different mind flayer
captured me from a raid and then he died. Addanil got me second hand from an auction.” You
said. “Then on a mercantile trip, I got kidnapped and unthralled by some Lolth priestess he
pissed off, and then some bard writing his next novel or something gave me a magic scroll to
teleport anywhere I wanted and I decided to take him with me… I was too vague and I ended
up in Jundarwood.” You explained.

“Don’t ask me why they chose to take me. I honestly couldn’t tell you.” Addanil said.

“Wait… If you’re a couple… Does that mean you’re… You know…?” Tavoril started to ask.
“Tavoril so help me, if you finish that thought-!” Addanil growled.

“You can’t even compare.” You bluntly told the half elf. Addanil was surprised by your
honesty.

“Songbird! That’s flattering but perhaps there is a time and place for speaking like that?” He
covered his face with his hands.

“I guess love really is blind. Especially when one loves a bard.” Bilban said, shrugging with a
grin. “I can tell that you do care about them… Wait, it was stupid to come down here! What
if there was a nearby elder brain!? You’d be under it’s sway in no time!” Bilban scolded him.
Addanil looked shocked at the revelation.

“I don’t want that. My Songbird doesn’t want to reside within the Underdark again. I intend
to keep my promises to them.” Addanil said. You felt moved by their resolve to keep you free
and safe.

“You have to get a Ring of Mind Shielding then.” Bilban said. “You won’t find something
like that in our tiny hamlet…”

“What the hell do we say to Aseir about all this??” Tavoril asked.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell him.” You said. “He doesn’t have to know. We’ll just
give him his share and move on.” You tried to convince them. That sounded fair to Bilban.

It was a process to get everything past the watery tunnel, Addanil had to levitate with it all in
multiple trips. It took 5 trips for them to move everything. “So uh… What about the brain
situation? You’re not feeling peckish are you…?” Bilban asked cautiously.

“I ate a brain less than a tenday ago. If I could get a means of pickling brains for later, it
would reduce the need to ‘hunt.’” Addanil said.

“I have pickling supplies…” Bilban said. Tavoril made a face.

“Those kobolds are unfortunately the best choice, and he’d be set for nearly a year…” You
mentioned. “I mean, we left the dragon alive, so his minions will just cause trouble for others.
There’s no way Zardaug won’t plan his revenge.” You crafted an argument for hunting them
down.
“Revenge?? Hah! Maybe in 50 years when the pompous tyke gets older.” Addanil sounded
smug.

“I guess we’re hunting kobolds then...” Bilban said.

“Better them than us or someone else, I guess…” Tavoril said. Tavoril spotted a small lizard
on the cavern wall. Taking out a morsel of food to cast Animal Messenger. “Annuntiatio di
Bestia.” He specified that the lizard would go to their camp and deliver the following
message to Aseir: “We got the goods. Still exploring some unexplored tunnels. See you
soon!”

The lizard scurried off to deliver his message. Addanil stuck close to you. He was unsure
how safe he really was. “I’m sorry I got you roped into a potentially uncomfortable situation.
We meant no harm.” You apologized to them.

“We are only concerned with living together as well as we can.” Addanil said. “Songbird is
right that most people wouldn’t understand. I didn't expect anyone to, which is why we
deceived you. We fully intend to defend each other from attack, but we prefer more peaceful
methods of existing.” He explained.

“If your dad caught wind that our merchant is a mind flayer, he'd probably never let you out
of the house ever again. Let's keep this to ourselves…” Bilban said to his friend.

“Shit. My father might already go ballistic when he finds out I went dungeon delving. That's
a good point…” Tavoril swore his secrecy.

All that was left to do was to stock up Addanil's larder…

 You Take my Breath Away
Chapter Summary

Vebeva and Whim get kinky at the end of the human butler's day off.

Today was a rare day off for Whim. He had a tendency to overwork himself, so Vebeva had
to make sure that he treated himself to some time to decompress and pamper himself. Having
Natiri around made that so much easier. His mistress was working, and Natiri was working in
his stead. There was admittedly not much work to do in the domicile today, so Natiri would
be waiting on Whim. To make today easier on Natiri, he completed any major chores she
would have to do the day before. He started the day with his skin care routine of crag
mushroom lotion and a hot cup of tea. He was wearing a red satin robe that his mistress had
bought him. She always treated his days off as a mini celebration to thank him for all the hard
work he put in for her.

Vebeva had even managed to secure an appointment for Elzaphir to come in and give him a
massage. It took 6 months to get that opening and it was worth every second. Whim had
never felt so relaxed in his entire life. This was one of the many reasons his mistress was the
best in the entire colony to Whim. The two of them frequently went above and beyond to
make each other comfortable and happy, though it wasn’t unusual for Elzaphir to give
massages to other thralls. Particularly generous mind flayers, like Aphrayaozu, would
schedule occasional massages for their prize thralls.

He also got to take a midday nap after lunch, falling asleep with a scrap of cloth that had his
mistress’ scent on it. His mistress remained unaware of this behavior, but she knew he
thought she smelled pleasant. He would have been embarrassed if she found out, since he
attempted to maintain an elegant and professional decorum with her. After dinner, he began
reading a book in bed that he hadn’t had the time to start.

“What Lies in the Dark” was a collection of works by various authors, which included 25
short stories of erotic cosmic horror, a few essays on the sexual aspects of aberrations, and 20
original pieces of original artwork. Whim had always been a fan of the horror genre, and
erotic horror was one that was especially rare to acquire. He was reading one of the essays. It
was titled "Illithid Erotica, Warlock Empowerment, and the New Weird” by Jumor
Hazeshaper. He found it to be quite a thought provoking essay.
Of course, his mistress didn’t exactly know the contents of these tomes, since she couldn’t
read common. Whim’s silver tongue was even able to fool his mistress, and she believed they
were nothing more than horror novels, rather than filth with darker themes. In the next story
he opened, it was about a nymph exploring the eroticism of illithids. He thought the story was
garbage. Sure, the tentacles are immensely arousing, but that was only part of his attraction to
Vebeva.

Vebeva’s presence was an entire experience to Whim. The way she looked and carried herself
and the way every touch was done with purpose. She was authority. She was elegant. When
they were intimate it was intensely sensual. That praise in his mind for a job well done, made
him happy to work hard and diligently for it. His hand slid under his robes, under the blanket.
It didn’t cross his mind whether or not he was allowed to do this. It was his day off, after all.
His eyes scanned the pages once more, and he began fantasizing about his mistress.

He relaxed into his own touch, thinking about her treating him perhaps a bit more roughly
like the nymph in the story. Not hard enough to hurt because he wasn’t partial to being on the
receiving end of pain like Natiri was. The idea of asking her to do such things to him was a
little intimidating, but perhaps he could work up the courage. He found her so attractive when
she flexed her authority.

“Whim, I never pegged you as someone who enjoyed reading filth…” His mistress was in the
doorway of his quarters. He pulled the blanket over his erection, startled by her intrusion.

“Should I dispose of it…?” He asked, his cheeks turning pink.

“Tell me why you enjoy reading this.” She requested, genuinely curious about the thoughts he
was having.

“I find it a little more engaging than standard erotica. I find something raw and honest about
the macabre, the strange and unusual. Stories about mind flayers are obviously my favorite
because I can imagine you in the role instead.” He gave an honest answer.

“How fascinating…” Vebeva remarked.

“I want to understand. Perhaps you would enjoy letting me experiment with you.” She made
known her receptiveness to exploring his desires.

“I am highly honored to indulge your curiosity.” He said and smiled softly at her.
“Pick a safeword.” She told him. If Natiri needed one for this kind of thing, he did too, right?
Whim thought about it for a moment.

“Shock.” He settled on.

“An interesting word association.” Vebeva observed.

She pulled his blanket off of him and picked him up with her telekinesis. Whim held his robe
in place.

“It’s cute that you’re trying to have some modesty. It’s not like everyone in this domicile
hasn’t seen it before.” She teased him. She pinched the sash, tied in a bow and pulled it
undone. She pulled the opened robe off of him, slowly sliding the silky material off of his
body. She looked at the sash, contemplating using it to tie up his wrists. She had an even
better idea.

Vebeva pulled him along with nothing but the sheer power of her mind. Natiri was leaving
Vebeva’s room, after setting it up at her request. She looked at them briefly before going back
to minding her own business. If her mistress wanted her attention she would have asked for
it. She knew she’d be hearing more than a few noises in the next couple of minutes. The
room was lit with the warm glow of orange glowcaps. There were two wine glasses with a
bottle of red wine. Vebeva placed him on her bed before pouring a glass of wine for both him
and herself. She handed him his glass with a tentacle and sat on her bed with him.

“Tell me what you want, my good boy.” She told him. He took a long sip of his wine. It was
an order. He had to follow it, no matter how much it made him blush.

“Would you… Consider choking me just a little? Not hard enough to cut off my circulation or
anything. Oh no, I know you would never wish to harm me…” He trusted her
unconditionally, but this was uncharted territory. No one had ever really asked him what he
wanted out of a sexual encounter before. She gently took the wine glass from him and set it
aside. Vebeva tested the waters wrapping a tentacle around his neck.

“I’ll just figure out what a good amount of pressure is…” He felt her link to his senses. He let
her in to test this out, keeping an open mind as the tentacle slowly tightened around his
throat. She tightened just enough to where he would feel pressure, but maintained the ability
to breathe. He moaned softly from it and Vebeva gently released him. He panted softly when
she released him. His erection showed how much he enjoyed that. “What a fascinating
response. What else do you like?” She inquired.
“I like being restrained. When I can’t move, it’s like I’m right where I belong. It’s strangely
relaxing with you.” He told her.

“I did notice that in our earlier intimate encounters.” Vebeva remarked. “Such as when I
restrained your wrists with my tentacles.” She teasingly wrapped a tentacle around his arm,
snaking it up his forearm.

“Of course…” He lightly gripped the tentacle and pulled it up to his lips, kissing it. “Since
this is an experiment, you may do anything you wish with me. I am always at your beck and
call for anything you desire.” Whim said. He trusted she wouldn’t harm him. He followed her
unquestionably. Vebeva trusted she knew him well enough. Their bond was strong but it had
grown even stronger still as of late. From the start, she’d been impressed by his aptitude.
When she first acquired him, she had plucked him from his hiding spot like he was some sort
of lost puppy. She was charmed by his compliments and personality. She wanted to keep him
largely unchanged because she found him to be pleasing. She wouldn’t even let the thrall
processing employees shave his head because she refused to ruin that precious head of hair.

She purred as he nuzzled a tentacle against his cheek and kissed it. He would practically
worship these appendages if she ordered him to. He would happily do the job that Natiri
wouldn’t. She set down her own glass of wine and her tentacles began to wander. He loved
being the recipient of her affection as he felt a moist warmth slowly caressing and wrapping
around him. “Oh gods, Mistress. You always make rest days the best. You improve
everything.” He softly moaned.

“I could say the same about you, Whim.” Vebeva responded. She didn’t know what she
would do without him. She teasingly trailed her fingertips along his inner thigh. He had kept
his pubic region shaved ever since she told him he liked it. He always wanted to be
presentable to her expectations. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, he found he
was tied down to the bed, with the restraint system she got from Caramyn. He lightly tugged
against his bonds, a little confused at first.

“Oh ho ho ho! I might have played a little bit of a trick on you, but I don’t think you really
mind.” Vebeva confirmed she had altered his perception before cupping his chin with a
tentacle and winking at him. Whim smirked at his mistress.

“My, what a clever and pleasant surprise.” Whim said.

Come what may, he was trapped and he didn't want to be anywhere else. He quickly
understood and embraced his role as her toy. She wrapped a tentacle around his hard cock,
coiling around his erection. “Such a good boy. The thought you put into every detail is
immaculate.” She praised him. He bucked his hips against her touch, his head starting to
empty. He could never get tired of hearing her praise.

“So you want to play harder, hm? Let's play harder.” Vebeva wrapped a tentacle around his
neck, squeezing as she pumped his erection. Whim let out a strained moan. His mistress
moaned in turn, surprised by the strong reaction he had.

“Oh gods, I love it when you use me!” He confessed.

“I know.” She said smugly. She felt his adoration every day. She couldn't believe she didn't
reciprocate it sooner! She released his neck once more to give him a moment.

“H-have to… Tell you… Can't hold it in…” Whim panted. He whimpered, struggling to be
quiet. He was a little embarrassed when Natiri told him how loud he was.

“Don't hold back. I want to hear you. Show me how bad you want it!” She commanded,
squeezing his neck.

“Yes, mistress!” He groaned, happy to obey. He let out an unrestrained moan. The sounds of
slick tentacles against his flesh began to accompany their pleasured sounds.

“Oh, yes! That's my good boy! Give it to me!” Vebeva's voice grew gooey. It's how he knew
he was doing a good job.

His mind became a comfortably intense static. “So… So good! Yes! Oh, yes!” He
whimpered. Moans and fervent affirmations of his mistress’ skills at pleasure were all he
could manage. There wasn't a single thought in his head but bliss. Then he felt the pressure
building, about to burst. “M-may I cum, mistress?” He desperately asked.

“Cum for me!” She demanded it from him with equal desperation. His toes curled and his
back arched. He released his seed all over the tentacle on his cock with a loud groan as she
released the tentacle on his neck. He laid there panting to catch his breath. There wasn't much
else he could really do while tied down.

Vebeva slowly wrapped her tentacles and arms around him in a stunned hug. Slowly but
surely, she undid his restraints. Whim embraced her, resting his face against her chest. “I just
realized I have nothing to clean up with…” She lamented and held up the semen coated
tentacle.

“I'll procure a towel.” Whim said.

“Use your mouth.” She commanded.

He blushed at her bold instructions but nevertheless, he gave her a “Yes, Mistress.” without
hesitation and opened his mouth, letting her push the messy tentacle into his mouth. He
licked and sucked off every last drop of his own cum without complaint.

“That's my good boy. I love you.” She praised. Those last three words made him smile
blissfully.

“I adore you, Mistress. Thank you for allowing me to serve you once again.” Whim
expressed his appreciation.

She lovingly squished his cheeks then leaned in and pressed her forehead against his. “Natiri,
come clean Whim up.” After all, he was all messy from her tentacles.

“Yes, Mistress…” She mentally replied, moving to get a bucket, wash cloth and towel. He
truthfully hadn't been all that annoying to her today. He didn't abuse the position of power he
had over her.

Natiri came in and began wiping the tired human clean. Vebeva gently ran her fingers
through Whim's hair. “You missed a spot.” Vebeva told her, pointing a tentacle at his genitals.
Whim chuckled and smiled smugly at his mistress’ pestering of the tiefling. Natiri rolled her
eyes and carried through with cleaning him thoroughly. There was that stupid smug smile she
expected from him.

“Smug bastard…” Natiri muttered, but there was a hint of affection. Was that a little smile?

“Whim, I just thought of the perfect way to end your day off. I would like to extend an
invitation to sleep with me tonight.” Vebeva offered.

“I humbly and most graciously accept your invitation.” Whim said.

“Natiri, go get his blanket.” Vebeva told her. As the tiefling thrall went to retrieve his soft
griffon down blanket, Vebeva arranged her pillows into a comfortable configuration. She then
encouraged Whim to lay down. Natiri quickly returned with it.
“Here you go.” Natiri tried to hand it over to Whim.

“Tuck him in.” Vebeva said. Whim covered his mouth, holding in a laugh. Natiri sighed and
unfolded the blanket before plopping it onto him.

“Do you want me to give him a goodnight kiss too?” Natiri asked sarcastically.

“Actually, yes.” Vebeva couldn't do it herself, after all. Whim couldn’t help but snicker.
Natiri leaned over, and Whim stole a kiss on the lips.

“Goodnight…” Natiri muttered and blushed. “May I be dismissed, Mistress?” She asked.

“Your duties for the day are complete. You are dismissed.” Vebeva confirmed.

Whim settled down onto the soft moss bed, curling up snugly with his blanket as he laid on
his side. “Goodnight, Mistress.” Whim told her.

“Can I get a goodnight kiss too?” Vebeva asked. Whim rolled over and lovingly kissed her
face.

“As many as you would like, whenever you like.” He whispered. “Even if you asked for a
thousand kisses, I would dutifully count them like stars across your skin.” He softly tells her.

Vebeva blushed at his remark, moved by it. She wrapped a tentacle around his wrist and
gently rubbed her fingertips across his arm. He smiled softly, an expression of bliss on his
face as they slowly drifted off together. A stray thought, a promise full of warmth entered his
subconscious mind.

“One day I will build something great, and I will give you more than a king could give his
lords and ladies…”
 Our New Third Wheel
Chapter Summary

Karlux and Kan end up buying a new personal thrall after a mind blowing experience.

As agreed upon the day before, Karlux and Kan decided they would go back to The Breeding
Pen in order to find what they called their third wheel. For many years it had been the bath
attendant, Maybelle, but since she had been purchased by Srebral, that was no longer
possible. They were, however, happy with the knowledge that she seemed to be doing well at
The Skull Cup. Maybe they’d bring Teddi in as a treat and an excuse to see her some day.
During their trips to The Breeding Pen, they left Teddi at home by hiring an adolescent
illithid named Veddask to thrall sit. The quaggoth had a tendency to get into things and chew
on them when bored. Karlux was livid the one time they got into the reading nook, and Kan
had to calm him down to keep the gnome ceremorph from mind blasting their personal thrall
into oblivion.

They handed Veddask their payment of a mind gate. “Thanks for coming by to watch Teddi
for us. You're a real pal!” Karlux said.

“It's no trouble at all! Teddi is so well behaved, he's honestly a delight. Have a nice day!”
Veddask said.

“You as well! We left a brain in the larder for you as well.” Kan said, bidding the thrall sitter
farewell.

They then left for The Breeding Pen. Although they liked Vizaness’ thralls, they wanted to
see what else was on offer this time. Since they were so used to the same thrall for the past 5
years, they wanted to carefully choose a thrall together. They had at one point wanted to
purchase Maybelle, but since that wasn't negotiable, they settled for visiting. They weren't
expecting to buy a thrall but they weren't ruling anything out. It all depended on whether or
not they could find a thrall they both enjoyed, and if the owner was willing to sell.

They were meeting with an illithid named Kess in the back rooms. Kess is a top breeder that
specializes in creating hybrid thralls. “Greetings! It’s a pleasure to meet the merchant heroes
of Oryndoll and two of our regular clients in person! Are you looking to buy, or simply to try?
What can I help you two with today?” Kess greeted them.
“We’re keeping an open mind about making a purchase, but we’re definitely here for
pleasure as well.” Kan admitted.

“Ah, yes. I suppose none of the other bath attendants have caught your eyes? I assure you
that I have some of the most unique thralls in the city.” Kess bragged. “What kind of thrall
are you looking for specifically?” They asked.

“I know I want someone taller than me.” Karlux said. He wanted someone that gave good
hugs, even if he didn’t think that part out loud.

“Personality-wise, we prefer someone who is open minded, and can handle being around a
wide variety of people, since we are merchants. Someone who handles travel well.” Kan
nodded.

“Do you have a preference for gender?” Kess asked.

“It ultimately doesn’t matter to us as long as we mesh well with them, but female thralls are
desirable.” Kan answered. “Overall, we have no preference in heritage.”

“I think I have the perfect merchant’s companion for you two.” Kess nodded. “Her name is
Kyzara. She's a hybrid of mountain orc and moon elf. She’s very extroverted and people
oriented. She’s 23 and she would very much enjoy traveling. I really think you’re going to like
her.” Kess advertised. “I’ll make you a deal. You can try her out and if you take her home
with you, I’ll waive the back room session fee and I’ll throw in a free bath.” Kess offered.

Kan and Karlux mentally went back and forth, considering the offer. “Sure, we’ll take a
chance and meet her.” Karlux spoke up.

“Excellent! I’ll go get her for you!” Kess’ tentacles curled. Within a few minutes, he returned
with a tall 6’3’’ woman who was more than twice Karlux’s height. She had green skin, and
was visibly toned. Her eyes were blue with golden flecks. Her tusks were small and dainty
and her ears were pointed. Her long black hair went down to the middle of her back.

“Have fun, and don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything!” Kess left them alone.

Karlux stuck close to Kan, suddenly feeling a small bout of shyness. “Good Tentacled Lord,
she looks like she could crack my head between those thighs…” Karlux remarked. Kan held
back a laugh at his remark.

“I’m Kan and this is Karlux. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Kan introduced themselves.
“Oh, hey! I know you guys! Maybelle would talk about you a lot. I have to say, you look
even cuter in person!” Kyzara smiled.
Karlux blushed at her compliment. “Thanks, sweetheart…”

“You uh… Wouldn’t happen to know how she’s doing, would you? We didn’t speak much,
but she was nice.” Kyzara wondered.

“Last we heard, she’s doin’ fine. She’s got a new job at The Skull Cup.” Kan told her.

“Oh, good! I’m happy for her.” Kyzara said. “Anyway, as for why you’re here, I definitely
have some experience with tentacles.” She winked. “How can I serve you?” She asked. This
was far from her first time with illithids in the Possessor Creed. She was recently Ursulude’s
first time being hands on with a thrall.

Meeting someone new was a little awkward for them, but any friend of Maybelle’s was a
friend of theirs. “Kan is a big softie. It’s all those mushy books he reads.” Karlux teased his
taller roommate.

“You like soft, don’t you?” Kan hugged his smaller roommate, causing Karlux’s face to flush
pale.

“R-right in front of the thrall??” Kan asked. Kyzara softly giggled, finding them adorable
and funny.

“If this is someone we want to be around, she has to be someone we can trust with us.” Kan
reasoned. “I promise I’m not airing our business out to harm you.” Kan reassured him.

“You two are a couple?” Kyzara quietly asked.

“We’ve pretty much been a little hive mind our whole lives. We’ve known each other since
ceremorphosis.” Kan answers.

“That’s so sweet!” She thought it was adorable! Karlux’s face turned white, his tentacles
curling as he let out a soft gurgled laugh. “I think there’s something really special about that.”
Her words assured Karlux that she didn’t think they were broken or wrong.

“Karlux enjoys affection quite a bit.” Kan revealed.

“That’s perfect, ‘cause I love giving hugs. I wish you squids would let me do it more often.”
Kyzara grinned.

“Squids…?” Karlux blinked.

“The resemblance is certainly there.” Kan sounded amused. Although an illithid would
likely be offended by such a term, very few things bothered Kan.

“What do you like most about your job?” Kan asked her to get more of a feel for her.

“I think what I like most about my job is when my clients feel like they can express
themselves with me in ways that they can't anywhere else.” She confessed.

“I think I'm ready to jump into this.” Karlux said. “I like your moxie, sweetheart.” He
complimented the elvish orc.

She eagerly took off her clothing and got onto the bed. Kan enjoyed that she seemed eager to
have a good time with them, even if she was quite forward. It made sense to him, since she
was well aware of her taboo role in this establishment.

“I think I like this one too.” Kan admitted. Karlux was the next to disrobe. He floated into the
bed, practically leaping into her arms. She held him close and smooched the top of his head.
Her breasts weren't the pillowy mounds that Maybelle's were but they were still soft. Her hug
was firm and warm. Kan calmly removed his robes and folded them up, before placing them
aside.

The taller mind flayer approached her from behind. He sensually caressed her shoulders and
trailed his tentacles along her skin. Karlux squeezed one of her breasts with his tentacles.
“Hey, I can actually fit my tentacles around ‘em!” Karlux playfully remarked.

“A perfect fit.” Kan chuckled. Kyzara wrapped an arm around Karlux and took one of Kan's
tentacles into her free hand.

“I can see why Maybelle liked you two so much. It almost made some of us escorts jealous.”
She smirked. She kissed and licked the tentacle in her hand, eliciting a purr from Kan. Karlux
could sense from both of them the desire to intensify this pleasant feeling as he teased the
orcish elf’s nipples.

“Who do you want inside you, sweetheart?” Karlux asked her.

“Doesn’t matter to me, but I bet you’d look cute between my legs.” Kyzara answered in a
teasing manner. The gnome ceremorph blushed. Maybelle wasn’t quite this forward.
Kan’s tentacles curled in amusement. “She’s not wrong, you know…” Kan pressed his
forehead against hers. “I’d love to feel what you can do. Don’t worry, I won’t let her crack
your precious little head like an egg.” He jokingly encouraged him. An overall feeling of
desire dominated the space between them. Kan moved over to let her lay down comfortably
and Kyzara spread her legs, letting the gnome ceremorph between them. Kan laid down
beside her and she reached over, gently stroking one of Kan’s tentacles. His tentacles
caressed her, teasing her nipples, and gently stroking her cheek.

Any nervousness that Karlux might have had started melting away as Kan’s gentle touch
relaxed him as well. “Damn. You’re like some kind of savant of good vibes or somethin’.”
Karlux complimented his partner. He brought himself between her thighs and brought his
face close to her moist slit, and began rubbing her clit and vulva. Kan and Karlux both purred
as Kyzara moaned softly.

“Oh, yes… That’s it. You’re a real doll, you know that?” Karlux moaned in his gooey voice.
It was yet another sound he found embarrassing, but in the presence of the two accepting and
loving minds in the room with him, he gave no care or worry.

“M-mmph… Thanks…” Kyzara smirked before her jaw slowly dropped as she got more and
more into it. Karlux slowly slid one of his tentacles inside her. She comfortably took every
inch of his 9 inch tentacles.

“Oh, boy. I’m in for a mess…” He said. Kan placed a tentacle on his head, gently rubbing it.
His heart raced at Kan's touch and his tentacle squirmed within Kyzara’s walls. Kyzara
moaned from the writhing mass on her genitals.

Karlux felt funny. He’d never really thought about it before. Had he ever really lusted for
Kan before? He wasn’t thinking about making himself feel good. He wanted to please Kan.
Kan whimpered and chirred, as if Karlux’s selfless thoughts intensified everything. Everyone
felt a mutual desire to please each other. Karlux eagerly got into his role as the juices of her
green and smooth pussy began to drip onto his face. He didn’t mind. It was always a bit of a
messy job for him.

Kan clung to Kyzara, absentmindedly caressing both her and Karlux. She pressed her
forehead against his, and their breaths mingled. The sweet smell of Karlux was on her chest.
It was faint, yet strangely addicting. “Keep going! Don’t stop!” Kan begged. Kyzara couldn’t
form a single coherent thought. She was in complete bliss, moaning as she quivered. Hearing
Kan beg for more from him combined with the sound and feeling of this thrall enjoying
herself sent his mind to an eager place.
Kyzara’s mind felt like a bridge, bringing them closer together just as Maybelle did. Perhaps
even closer than before. A radiant gradient of soft white, blue and purple shifted in their
minds. They felt their minds connecting and bonding and diving deeper into unconditional
warmth and love. Everything was shared, every ounce of oxytocin, endorphins and
dopamine, surged through them. Their embrace was mental as they felt themselves floating
ever deeper as the pressure built. It was comfortable, sensual, and soft to the point where it
was nearly unbearable!

Kyzara grunted loudly as she came hard, sending a shockwave through the two mind flayers.
Karlux and Kan let out gurgled cries. Kan ended up a purring mess, unable to form a single
thought. Karlux only managed to float a couple of feet forward before collapsing on Kyzara
and wrapping his arms around her. She giggled in the afterglow holding both of them in her
arms.

All Kan could think repeatedly for several moments was “Wow…”

“I don’t know what the fuck that was, but it was amazing… We have to buy this thrall, Kan.”
Karlux proposed.

“Yes… It was… Quite exhilarating. I felt…” Kan was trying to find the word.

“Close…?” Kyzara guessed. Her head was scrambled but she felt it too.

“Bonded…” Karlux admitted, blushing but the heat was slowly leaving his cheeks. “Say?
How’d you like to come live with us? You’d get to travel with us on merchant business.”
Karlux temptingly offered.

“W-wait, really!?” Her eyes widened. She’d always wondered what outside of the city looked
like. “Heck yeah! I’d love that! You two are the best!” She smiled widely and hugged them
tightly.

“It’s settled then.” Kan nodded. After cleaning up and redressing themselves, they called
Kess back.

“We’re firmly decided on purchasing Kyzara. We would like to give you an offer of 75 mind
gates for her.” Kan negotiated. That was an extremely generous offer!

“Hot damn! You’ve got yourselves a deal!” Kess agreed, shaking both of their hands.

“Pack your bags, sweetheart! You’re coming home with us!” Karlux sounded ecstatic.
When the currency was exchanged, bonds deepened and two mind flayers who shared
everything, found yet another experience to share.
 Anger Management Plan
Chapter Summary

Srebral gets a letter that really pisses him off. Can Maybelle help make it better?

Srebral awoke next to Maybelle. His tentacles had remained wrapped around his favored
thrall all night long. She was still asleep. Today was their day off and he didn’t want to wake
her. He saw no way in which moving wouldn’t disturb her, so he dutifully remained still for
nearly an hour. When she realized Srebral was still holding her, she smiled and sleepily
kissed his tentacles. “Good morning, Srebral.” She happily greeted him.

“Good morning, Maybelle.” His tentacles curled when she rolled over to kiss him. He would
stay here all day if she wanted him to. They had nowhere to be today.

On days like this, he used to just sleep all day and occasionally remember to feed himself, but
today he felt like making breakfast. He went out of his way to get more ingredients to treat
her to a hearty meal. “Do you like skillet bucklers?” Srebral asked her. Pancakes were known
by many names on Toril such as skillet bucklers, hin hotcakes, and butter pads.

“Yes! I haven’t had those in a while!” She sounded excited. “Can you teach me how to make
them??” She asked. He chuckled softly. Her joy was contagious.

“Of course. It’s simple, but the ingredients are hard for thralls to come by, so I can see why
you haven’t had them in a while…” He got out of bed and finished cleaning up last night’s
mess. “While I get the ingredients, can you put on your clothes and check my correspondence
box?” He requested.

“Okie dokie, sir!” She rolled out of bed and got her robe out of her bag, slipping it on. There
was just a few tablets inside, which she left on the table for him. She then eagerly joined him
as he got his stove top hot. There was flour, baking powder, sugar, salt, milk, rothe butter and
an egg. He even made his own cinnamon simple syrup last week.

“First we sift all the dry ingredients together, putting in our flour… A few spoonfuls of baking
powder is what makes them fluffy, a bit of sugar to make them just a bit sweet, and just a
pinch of salt.” He started off.

“What's the salt for?” She asked. Wouldn't that make them salty?
“A pinch of salt enhances the other flavors. You won't even notice the salt.” He said.

“Now we make a little well for our milk, egg and melted butter, so we can combine them more
evenly.” He made a hole in the dry ingredients and poured in his wet ingredients.

“That's what helps make it moist, right?” Maybelle observes.

“That's right!” He patted her head with a tentacle. “The egg helps bind the ingredients
together too.” He explains while stirring it.

He scooped the batter onto his hot pan. “Give that a couple minutes…” Maybelle watched it
eagerly.

“Both sides have to be golden brown, right?” She asked.

“Yep! When you see bubbles, and they pop and the edges look set, then it's time to flip. Don't
worry if you mess up the first one. Even pros often mess up their first skillet buckler.” Srebral
assured her. His first one was in fact, darker than he would have liked on one side. “Oops.
That one was left on the skillet too long.” He said.

“Oopsie.” Maybelle didn't seem bothered.

The rest of them turned out acceptable, and he even let Maybelle make one for herself which
turned out decent. He finished the stack off with his cinnamon syrup, and handed the plate off
to Maybelle. She eagerly ate, clearly enjoying the meal. “These are the best skillet bucklers
ever!” She confidently declared. “Thank you, Srebral!” She expressed her gratitude.

He bashfully rubbed the back of his head. He didn't know about the best ever, but they were
the best to her and that's all that mattered. “You’re welcome, Maybelle.” He made eggs for
himself, actually bothering to cook them for once. He sat down with his food, to join her and
read his tablets after scarfing down his eggs.

He saw a new tablet from Aphrayaozu, and it made him livid. Another offer, this time for 200
mindgates. He hissed, making an angry clicking sound. “Srebral…?” Maybelle asked,
looking at him with concern. He got up from the table, and entered his room, slamming the
door shut. She heard the sound of things angrily being rifled through.

“Sir!? What's wrong!?” She slowly reached for the door.

“Not now… Leave me alone right now…” He managed to tell her. She could sense barely
contained rage, and it scared her. Srebral got a tablet of his own, his thoughts raised the lines
onto the tablet from his straitor like angry welts.

“YOU OLD FUCKING CREEP !!! WHAT PART OF “MAYBELLE ISN’T FOR SALE”
DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND!? SHE’S MINE!̏ MINE!
́̈̀
́́̈ ͌̀ ̈̏
M̵̧͂͋͘Í̹̙̔̈ ̴́̈ ́̈̓ ̿ ̅̆̆̍ ̉͠ ̯̖ ̧̡̗̘̼̝ ̱ N̵͗̃͘E ͉̾̈̐ ̸̺̐̋͠
̙̱̰
͉̱̰
̥̟
͓
STOP CONTACTING ME!

STAY AWAY FROM ME AND STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MAYBELLE!!

FUCK YOU!

-Sincerely, Srebral”

Fearful tears welled up in Maybelle's eyes. “Srebral? Is someone about to get fired…?” She
whimpered on the other side of the door. Srebral looked up from his desk. He became
paralyzed with anxiety. She knew the truth. Oh God-Brain, he was doing it again. He was
scaring another thrall. He was making another personal thrall hate him. He was ruining
everything again. Everything was ruined!

Against her master's wishes, she slowly entered when he didn't answer. That fearful look in
his nightmare was staring at him. He couldn't get a word out as she came closer and wrapped
her arms around him. “I know I'm being bad for disobeying you. Can you ever forgive me?”
She softly pleaded, pressing her forehead against his. He felt his anxious heart rate begin to
slow.

“I forgive you… Nobody's being fired.” He finally answered. “Maybelle? Are you afraid of
me?” He asked her.

“No… One of my coworkers said you get bitey when you're mad but I'll just wear a helmet!”
She half joked.
“Brilanna…” He muttered. Looks like the drow waitress did care in her own way. He
couldn't blame her for being worried. “Those kinds of jokes aren't funny. I don't want to bite
you.” He gently scolded her.

“Sorry. I just can't leave you feeling so bad… It makes me sad.” She said. She wasn't afraid
of him. She was afraid for him. Srebral started to feel a little silly for panicking. He put his
angry qualith tablet response away, deciding not to send it right now. He packed up the two
tablets he received from Aphrayaozu. He had to do something about this since he wasn't
taking no for an answer.

“Say, how about we pay Vizaness and Kalamash a visit?” He tried to sound more cheerful.
Maybelle wasn't in the mood to do anything while Srebral still felt bad. She poked her fingers
together shyly.

“Would I be overreaching to ask why you got so mad…?” She questioned. Srebral sighed.

“I need to talk to Vizaness about it. I'll explain after we get there. I promise.” He told her.
Srebral could barely think straight. Maybelle slowly nodded in understanding. It must have
really hurt if he couldn't talk about it.

Vizaness’ home was a decent distance below his. He knew she was home today. She was
below the menageries. Maybelle was anxious the entire trip, wondering what exactly was
wrong. He still seemed so rattled. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Oceana
answered it. “It’s Srebral and-” Srebral let himself in. “Uh excuse me. You can’t just come in
here without being invited…” Oceana said. Vizaness saw him entering.

“Why are you barging into my domicile on my day off?? You better have a good-” Vizaness
was cut off by Srebral wordlessly shoving the qualith tablets into her hands.

“I was just wondering if you had an explanation for this.” He was eerily calm.

She read the tablet offering 200 mindgates for Maybelle from the creed-master of the
Possessor Creed. “Oh no… Oceana, shut the door.” She sounded disappointed. The water
genasi closed the door immediately.

“Oh no!? Why are you saying that like you know something!?” Srebral interrogated his
fellow illithid.

“So, funny story. Aphrayaozu’s representatives attempted to purchase Maybelle last year and
I told them that she wasn’t for sale…” She revealed, her tentacles twisting among themselves
nervously.
“So you sold her to me?? Why did you reject a fucking creed-master, but sold her to some
random mediocre mind flayer like me?!” Srebral was baffled. He couldn’t understand.

“I keep a detailed analysis of every thrall in my menagerie. When my clients come to me

looking for a thrall to purchase, I compare their wants and needs to a complex statistical
algorithm of six major attributes on a 20 point scale. In using such a scoring system, I can
determine a wide variety of things about a thrall. Such as whether a thrall is adequate
enough for their continued contribution to the gene pool of my menagerie or which one
would make the best tavern wenches… In layman's terms, I give my customers what I think
they need most.” Vizaness explained.

“And your analysis determined I needed Maybelle…” Srebral started to calm down.

“Oh, I merely suggested her to you. There were at least a dozen other thralls in that sales
room. You gravitated to her. You ultimately chose her.” Vizaness reminded him.

“Go ahead and read the other tablet. I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of that.” Srebral sounded
sarcastic. Vizaness looked out of curiosity, rubbing her tentacles against the raised lines.

“Sale made errantly!? Excuse me??” The ends of her tentacles curled like balled up fists.
“Alright, I’m admittedly quite miffed. I make no sale errantly! I have a 97.5% success rate in
matching personal thralls to illithids! How dare!” Vizaness ranted.

“I don’t want to leave Srebral!” Maybelle hugged Srebral tightly. “I won’t go! You’ll have to
force me!” Maybelle cried.

“Oh, Sweetie… No one is going to take you away from Srebral.” Vizaness reassured
Maybelle. She took a deep breath, not wanting to work Srebral back up. “Deep breaths…
Deep breaths. Center ourselves… Aaaand breathe….” She calmed herself.

“My problem is, I don’t know how to politely tell him to fuck off and leave me alone! He’s still
a creed-master…” Srebral admitted.

“That is troublesome, but it’s not like he can make you sell… I’m probably somewhat
responsible for this mess, and for that I do apologize. I don’t like the idea of having a creed-
master upset at me anymore than you do, even if his creed is the smallest…” Vizaness
pondered.

Maybelle knew well who Aphrayaozu was. She’d seen him once getting a massage, but she
never personally worked with him, since she wasn’t officially trained to do that sort of work.
Maybelle got a determined look on her face as if she were coming up with a plan. “Maybelle,
I don’t think this is a problem you can fix, but I’ll protect you…” Srebral said.
“I think I can.” She said. “Hear me out. Give him a taste of what he wants. I’ll make him
regret it.” She grinned.

“What?!” Srebral exclaimed.

“Hang on, chef. Let’s see what she’s cooking.” Vizaness was curious, patting Srebral’s arm
lightly.

“Uh… How old is Aphrayaozu?” She asked, trying to gauge his stamina.

“170 I believe. Why?” She answered.

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything…” Srebral says.

“Because we have a secret weapon!” Maybelle said confidently.

“We do??” Srebral asked.

“Where are you going with this?” Vizaness wondered.

“Give me your strongest aphrodisiac. If I wear Aphrayaozu out, maybe he’ll get tired of me
and won’t want me anymore!” Maybelle suggested.

Srebral couldn’t even respond to that idea. Vizaness laughed out loud.

“Uhm… Even if it fails, then by bringing me over to have play dates as a kind of
compromise, you’d be getting into the diplomatic good graces of a creed-master, and that
could help you out socially too, right??” Maybelle said.

“Play dates…?” Srebral mumbled.

“Oh! I didn’t know she was a conflict mediator too! I sold her for too cheap to you!”
Vizaness joked.

“I’d do anything to stay with you. You make my life so wonderful, and I hope I make yours
wonderful too…” Maybelle told him, smiling shyly.

“Oh Maybelle…” Srebral hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry I worried you this morning… I was
supposed to teach you how to make my wine today too…” He lamented.

“You still can, if you want, Sir! It’s not like Aphrayaozu can’t wait a day to get a response
from you…” She wanted to make the ulitharid seem less intimidating to him.
“And uh… Sorry for barging in like a crazy asshole…” He apologized to Vizaness.

“All is forgiven… Hang on, I’ve got something for you.” She ducked into her bed chamber
and emerged with a jar of a pink jelly-like substance. “This is our most potent recipe yet.
Don’t tell anyone that I gave it to you. In exchange, I merely want you to tell me the results.
Make her eat it about an hour before you meet with Aphrayaozu.” She gave him the jar.

“Wait. You want me to give something completely experimental to her??” Srebral sounded
unsure.

“I don’t think she’d give me anything that would hurt me. That would be bad for business,
wouldn’t it?” Maybelle reasoned.

“We have… Limited data, but no reports of adverse side effects thus far.” Vizaness was
honest.

“Maybelle, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to…” Srebral assured her.

“I want to. If he’s bothering you, then facing this head on is the only way I can think to make
him stop!” She affirmed. “Besides, if he can’t finish the job, then you can always jump in and
show him how it’s done…” She smirked. Srebral’s cheeks turned pale. He wasn’t opposed to
rubbing how much Maybelle liked him in that geezer’s face…

“Go get ‘em, Maybelle! Show that old out of town pervert who’s boss!” Vizaness cheered. So
that’s where Maybelle got it from.

“God-Brain dammit. How’d I’d get roped into pimping out my favorite thrall to some rich
old geezer? I would like to live in less interesting times please.” Srebral groaned.

“I for one think you’re my most interesting customer yet.” Vizaness’ tentacles curled. “Never
a dull moment.” She giggled.

“Am I being a pain in the butt, sir?” Maybelle sheepishly asked.

“The only annoying one is Aphrayaozu, but you? Never.” Srebral assured her.

“I don’t see you coming up with a better idea anyway.” Vizaness teased him.

“Hey, I’m not used to this kind of underground subculture of thrall based intimacy!” Srebral
blushed. “Cut me some slack…” He looked Maybelle in the eyes. “I trust you, so we’ll try
this… If you feel uncomfortable or want to stop for any reason, I’ll be right there to keep you
safe.” He knew Maybelle was doing whatever she thought it would take to make her master
happy. Maybelle leaned in and kissed his forehead lovingly.

“Can I get a tablet and a striator off you?” He asked Vizaness. Vizaness nodded and brought
out the stationary to him. He sat down on her cushions and began writing.

‘As per my last tablet, she is not for sale. However, your interest in her is very clearly noted
and I am willing to allow a scheduled visitation if you will allow us as guests into your
domicile. No charge or catch, just give me a day that works for you.

-Best regards, Srebral’

 Why I Left My Colony
Chapter Summary

Geddask reveals to Madalyn why they left Oryndoll before they share an intimate
evening together.

After their meal came the task of finding somewhere to sleep. Preferably somewhere safe and
clean. Sure, Geddask was used to slinking about in sewers, but that didn’t mean they wanted
to sleep in one. Madalyn kept a clean, and comfortable home. The illithid became rather
accustomed to living in surface styled dwellings. They loved seeing all the different people
going about their business. Oryndoll was a dreary place by comparison. They couldn’t see
themselves ever being part of a colony again.

“Captain, where would be one of the better inns to stay?” Geddask asked him.

“We typically pick a couple o’ inns in the Middle City. The low city is more for those down
on their luck.” Arnam replied. “Some of us go to The Golden Helm, and some of us go to
The White Galleon.” He said. The crew’s journey through the city streets saw them pass
many businesses. A maker of heavy ballista and sail makers for spelljammers. Madalyn
quietly pointed out a temple to Gond to Geddask. The shrine was small and rather out of the
way. Geddask wondered if they would even be welcomed at a place like that. It was a far cry
from the House of Inspired Hands back in Waterdeep, a place they thoroughly enjoyed even
if it was in disguise.

Would Gond ever accept them? Did they actually have a soul? “Are you having another
existential crisis?” Madalyn asked quietly, she could tell by the vacant expression in their
eyes.

“Huh…? Just thinking… Maybe a little overthinking.” They admitted. “I never thought
about entering a temple or shrine as, well, me before… Religion remains a complicated topic
for me.” Geddask told her. “You have not harmed me.” They assured her.

At the intersection of Grand Street and Sailmaker street was the Low Magistrate, the busiest
of the three magistrates. The old and rundown building was a pandemonium of shouting,
arguing creatures of a dozen races and grim guardsmen trying to sort out who stabbed whom,
and when. The other side of the intersection contained The Royal Exchequer, where the two
of them could exchange their currency, however they were surprised to learn that the city
doesn’t even mint its own currency, as the crown finds it more profitable to keep its
monopoly on the exchequer.

They eventually came to a charming two story building. They entered into it’s common room.
It wasn’t too busy at this time. There were a dozen and a half people present as the common
room was also a popular tavern. A lizardfolk bard was playing a quiet and relaxing lute
melody. The current owner was a lightfoot halfling man named Belser Warmcrest who was
the grandson of its founder, Ostler Warmcrest.

“Hey, Captain Arnam!” The halfling warmly greeted him. “You’re in luck! All of our rooms
are vacant today, including the lord’s suite.” Belser informed him.

“Well that’s perfect! We’ll take ‘em all!” Captain Arnam replied. The lord’s suite was 5 gold
pieces per night, and a monthly rate of 50. The common rooms were 1 gold piece per night.
For 3 nights, it was 30 gold pieces to rent every room, which the captain happily paid.
Captain Arnam passed out the room keys to his crewmates and gave the lord’s suite key to
Madalyn. They were surprised by his generosity. “Go ahead and get settled in. We’ll give ye
some time alone.” He winked at Madalyn.

Geddask was completely oblivious, not seeing the captain wink at their partner. “Thank you
for being so kind to us. It really means a lot.” They said to him.

“Yes, this has been a lot to take in. Geddask could certainly use some time to…
Decompress…” Madalyn smirked. Madalyn ushered him through a warm and cozy hall. It
had a few seats in case the common room became too full. They went upstairs to their suite,
which had its own private bath, closets and even a small dining table. It was like a home all
its own. They were guaranteed to receive the best service in the entire building.

Madalyn took off her cloak, and slowly began slipping out of her clothing to change into her
night dress. Geddask preferred to sleep nude themselves and they unceremoniously pulled
their suit off, tossing it onto a chair before levitating into the bed. It was surprisingly
comfortable. “Do you feel safe enough to answer my question now?” Madalyn asked
Geddask.

“You won’t judge me for anything I’m about to say?” They wrapped their tentacles around
their pillow for comfort. They had to make sure.

Madalyn finished putting on a black silk chemise and joined them in bed. “You will not
receive harsh thoughts from me. You’ve probably already had enough of that…” She gave
Geddask’s hand a comforting squeeze.

“The truth is, compared to other illithids, my psionics are… Lacking… I can levitate. I can
blast minds, I can share our sensations, but I have never been able to dominate the minds of
others. I am completely unable to create a thrall. Most creatures would think that’s a good
thing, but for me it caused great shame and pain. It is an untenable position for an illithid to
be in.” Geddask confessed. They sounded hurt to admit that they had such a flaw. That they
were anything less than a model mind flayer.

“What happened? What did they do to you?” She softly asked.

“There’s a term for illithids like me. Mind Failure… They called me a mind failure. None of
the skills I had to offer were good enough. I learned about the rare art of being an artificer
from the brain of a dwarven artificer and began to study it. I had always loved inventing and
creating useful items, but my psionics weren’t good enough to create psionic items.
Apparently I was ‘inventing in a corrupt and inferior way’. Yet they had no problem selling
the magic items they stole from others…” Geddask revealed.

They sensed anger from her. Anger that Geddask had been so unjustly hurt by their own
people. She hugged them close. “You are not a failure. The sting of rejection as punishment
for eschewing expectations is common and oft relatable. It’s a universal experience that can
happen to nearly any sentient being. Even to so-called superior beings.” She assured them. “I
know what it’s like… Let’s just say my folks didn’t like magic very much either…” Madalyn
revealed.

“It’s the stupidest thought but when I first met you, I lied to myself. I told myself I could
dominate your mind any time I wanted to. Then the excuse became that I didn’t need to
because you already did everything I needed from you. I kept making excuses for my lack of
dominion because I wanted to make myself feel less weak. I thought if you knew the truth, you
wouldn’t respect me or take me seriously.” Geddask told her.

“I suppose my method of transporting you to my house was rather undignified.” Madalyn

admitted. “I always saw you as an equal. I gave you nothing I would not have given myself. I
hoped you felt the same.” She said.

“When you nursed me back to health, I thought you pitied me, but you never treated me as
incapable or weak. It admittedly confused me.” Geddask said. “With our recent
‘experiments’ and exploration of the world outside, I think I have gained further
understanding.”

“What understanding have you gained?” She asked.

“That people can be wonderful, and that I can partake in rich experiences without dominion
or control over it.” Geddask told her. “There’s something mutually deep about us. We connect
in ways no creature has ever connected with me. You are free thinking, intellectual, and you
eschew traditional norms in such a comforting and seductive manner.”

“We aren’t what others think we’re supposed to be and that’s alright.” Madalyn gently
pressed her forehead to theirs. “I’d rather be myself with you.” She kissed them.

“You’re so unapologetically you. I hope you never apologize for being yourself to anyone…”
Geddask whispered in her mind. They gently caressed her cheek with a tentacle.

“Oh, Geddask. Even if you haven’t dominated another mind, you’ve dominated my heart…”
Madalyn knew that was a cheesy thing to say but she meant it.

“And you’ve thoroughly charmed me.” Geddask’s tentacles curled. “I made you a present…
Would you like me to give it to you?” They informed her.

“Of course. By the way, you’re an amazing inventor. Don’t let anyone tell you that you
aren’t.” Madalyn complimented Geddask. Her words were touching to them as they rolled
over to reach into the bag of holding. They produced a pipe, painted completely black. The
bowl of the pipe was carved to look like the head and wings of a raven. “Geddask, that’s
beautiful!” Madalyn accepted it, inspecting the craftsmanship. “It’s so…”

“It’s so you.” Geddask said. Madalyn nodded in agreement. “I was going to make it magical,
but I didn’t have the time to. It should still work as a mundane pipe.” They told her.

“Magic or not, it’s still charming.” Madalyn loved it. “I did bring my recreational herbs, you
know.” She smirked.

“If you’re offering to conduct another experiment, I would be happy to participate. After all,
we have to test the quality of my work.” Geddask reasoned. Madalyn retrieved the pouch
containing her cannabis and packed the bowl with the pungent herb. With a casting of
prestidigitation, she lit it and inhaled deeply from the brand new pipe.

Madalyn choked on the smoke, coughing harshly. “Oh goodness. Ack… I shouldn’t have
pulled so hard on a new pipe…” She coughed. Then she realized the smell would probably
bother the other patrons and cast prestidigitation to make the air smell of jasmine instead.

“Are you alright?” Geddask asked, handing her a waterskin they packed. Madalyn drank
greedily from it.
“Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.” She assured Geddask. A formless jasmine scented cloud of
smoke wafted about the bedroom. She took a few more puffs, masking the scent with
prestidigitation each time until they could feel that familiar sensation. Their inhibitions were
quickly erased. She took off her chemise and brought herself close to her illithid lover, softly
kissing their tentacles. No sounds other than the muffled sound of a lute downstairs
accompanied the illithid’s purrs.

“I love you just the way you are.” She kissed them once more. Geddask purred more loudly
than before.

“As do I…” They said. Their tentacles traced the coiling tentacle tattoo on her collarbone and
wandered to her breasts. Madalyn gently pulled them down with her. Clawed fingers slowly
and gently rub against her thigh. She spread her legs, accepting the sensation of a tentacle
between them.

Another tentacle pushed into her mouth, wiping away the last of her lipstick as she sucked on
it eagerly. She looked at them. She could always tell Geddask was happy in the most subtle
ways. The way their eyes squinted. She could feel it in her own mind. It was practically
contagious. She shivered pleasurably from their touch. “I notice I’m frequently messing up
your make-up as of late.” Geddask noted.

“Oh, Geddask. You can mess it up as much as you want to.” Madalyn mentally replied.

Geddask rested their head on Madalyn’s shoulder, listening to her breaths grow shaky when
they rubbed her clitoris with their fingers with deft precision. They pulled the tentacle inside
of her out, using their slick fluids as a lubricant before plunging back into her. The two of
them moaned in unison. Their remaining three tentacles wrapped around her tightly as the tip
of one of them teasingly flicked at her right nipple. Madalyn’s hands stimulated her other
nipple and her other arm was gently wrapped around Geddask.

Madalyn relaxed, getting lost in their presence. She didn’t care if everyone knew what they
were doing. She wanted everyone to know how loved Geddask was. How loved she was by
them. Never again would Geddask be forced to crawl around in sewers and live their days in
a dank basement. They belonged by her side just as they were now. Like wisps of white
smoke against a void, their mindspace became hazier.

“Oh, gods! Geddask!” Madalyn moaned their name.

“Madalyn…!” Geddask’s voice grew gooey. The two of them shivered in unison, growing
closer and closer to this experiment’s conclusion. The squelching sounds of the wizard being
filled and rubbed with growing desperation accompanied the soft sounds of the lute.

“Yes… Share this with me!” Madalyn whispered. Geddask closed their eyes, continuing their
movements. They couldn’t stop now. Geddask was losing control and they wanted to let go.
The two of them crashed into a euphoric release that left them seeing stars. They let out a
strained gurgle that became a louder cry in unison with Madalyn’s.

“Oh fuck…” Geddask gasped between breaths. Their tentacles gently pulled away from her
sensitive genitals and slowly curled as they lay beside her. Madalyn had a blissful smile,
unable to move.

“I’d say you created a very successful gift, Geddask.” Madalyn laughed softly.

“Indeed…” They agreed. They were happy she liked it. They slowly got up and went to
check the bath for towels. The vanity had two lamps lit by continual flame spells. The room
had a large copper tub with elegant clawed feet with pipes and a faucet. Geddask had only
heard of such a thing in a noble home. They curiously reached out and turned one with the
common letter H. Clean water came pouring out of the faucet and into the tub.

Madalyn perked her head up at the sound. “Geddask? What’s that sound?” She asked.

“You won’t believe this! Wealthy people water! Look!” Geddask excitedly grabbed her hand
and levitated her, pulling her into the private bath. Madalyn smiled at their excited reaction.

“Huh… Neat.” She sounded amused. Geddask plugged up the tub and let it fill. They then
went over to the wash basin and turned the faucet there, seeing the water pour out.

“Geddask, the innkeeper probably has to pay for those utilities…” Madalyn pointed out.
Geddask turned it off, not wanting to waste resources for their own amusement.

It didn't take them long to figure out how to adjust the temperature of the water in the tub,
and they allowed Madalyn to get in first, before they joined her. The inn even provided its
own soap. It smelled of honey and patchouli.

“Madalyn, I don’t know if Bral is where we’ll stay, but I know for certain that no matter
where we go, it will be a place where our love will endure...”
 Playdate at the Mansion
Chapter Summary

Maybelle has a threesome with Aphrayaozu and Srebral, before mind-cucking

Aphrayaozu.

Aphrayaozu had responded to Srebral’s qualith tablet quite quickly. They agreed to meet up
in half a tenday. The days went by without incident. He wasn’t sad, angry, or nervous.
Maybelle made it seem just like any other job. Just like any other job, Maybelle would tackle
it with a smile and would do her very best for him. She spent the night with him before they
would go in order to make things easier on Srebral. Much to her delighted surprise, he slept
in with her once again.

She made sure to give him some extra stress relief earlier in the tenday, but Srebral insisted
they needed their strength to deal with the creed-master. That didn’t stop him from cuddling
with her though the night. For Maybelle’s breakfast, Srebral made breakfast bars out of oats
and the leftover cinnamon syrup. They would be perfect for the energy she needed to pull off
the stunt they were attempting to do. In addition, she ate every drop of that aphrodisiac. “That
jelly tasted kind of weird.” Maybelle said.

“In a bad way...?” Srebral wanted to make sure she was safe and comfortable.

“No. Just weird. I don’t know how to describe it. It just tastes like it exists.” Maybelle said.

He softly chuckled at her description. “Well, now that you’ve eaten it, there’s no turning back
from those consequences…” He blushed thinking about what this substance would do to her.
He held her close, giving her a soft and comforting touch to her cheek. “No matter what, I’ll
keep you safe. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, I’ll get you out of there.” Srebral was
sure to assure her. Maybelle smiled and hugged him.

“I know you will. That’s why I’ll do my very best for you!” She promised. She dressed
herself in that pink low cut dress her master bought her. She chose to wear it without being
prompted to.

Srebral made sure to time this to the best of his abilities, so that the effects wouldn't hit while
they were walking to Aphrayaozu's domicile. If it worked, she'd start feeling it after they
arrived. Srebral had never so much ever spoken to a creed-master before Aphrayaozu. He
was one of the few illithids without a creed but it was acceptable since he owned a business.
He contributed in his own way.

They made their way to a grand looking carved stone door with elegant tentacles for the
design. It opened before Srebral could even knock. A tzakandi servant in a royal blue tunic
welcomed them. He was one of nine servants that tended to every desire and whim of
Aphrayaozu and his three personal thralls. “Welcome to our domicile, honored guest and
thrall. I will inform Master Aphrayaozu of your arrival.” The tzakandi bowed before taking
his leave. Another servant, a drow male, just as quickly arrived and offered Srebral a brain on
a platter.

“Would you like a complimentary meal?” The servant offered. Srebral was admittedly
curious to see what elites ate but in front of Maybelle…?

“Oh, how generous!” Maybelle subtly advises him to eat it. “You don't want to appear
rude…” She thought, hoping he was listening.

“Don't mind if I do…” Srebral ate the brain. It was a halfling! He'd never eaten such a being
before. It wasn't bad at all. He'd even say it was good but it was certainly very different from
what he was used to. Was it bad that he liked the goblin he ate last tenday just a bit better?
Maybelle looked away, not because it grossed her out or anything but she was trying to
respect his privacy.

Srebral found it funny how they were both trying so hard to keep the other from being
uncomfortable. She was looking at the decor of the lobby. Aphrayaozu's entire domicile
could be what one considered to be avant-garde. White stone, polished tile floors, and warm
glowcap lighting everywhere so that anyone could appreciate the carvings of beautiful nude
humanoid women, illithids and intricately designed pillars. There were art pieces best
appreciated by tentacle touch and eclectic knick knacks from all over Toril throughout the
domicile and the furniture was in pristine condition.

Aphrayaozu glided into the room. He was a deep purple ulitharid, with some visible wrinkles
in his skin. The wrinkles were most prominent around the eyes, which were yellow. He was
wearing a crimson and black hemmed robe paired with comfortable black silk pants and
black leather loafers. Suddenly the gravity of this meeting was smacking Srebral in the face.
He was starting to feel nervous.

Maybelle bowed before the creed-master. “It's an honor to meet you mister creed-master!”
She said.
“What kind of form of address is that!?” Srebral thought to himself, wanting to scream at
Maybelle's embarrassing attempt at being cordial. “It's an honor to be guests in your
domicile. Thank you for accepting us as guests, Aphrayaozu.” Srebral tried to salvage this,
his tentacles wriggling with a bit of uneasiness.

“By all means, thank you for coming over so promptly.” Aphrayaozu said. “And you must be
Maybelle. What a cute dress. It suits you.” The creed-master complimented her. Maybelle
looked up at him with a smile, bouncing a bit and causing her cleavage to jiggle.

“Hehe! Thanks! My master picked it out for me! He buys me pretty dresses sometimes!” She
said. The aphrodisiac was starting to take effect. She wonders how she'll deal with this
without seeming trashy. She didn't think that far ahead.

“Since you're here, how would you like a tour?” Aphrayaozu asked them.

“We would be honored.” Srebral responded.

“Sounds fun! I love your decor.” Maybelle compliments. Srebral knew what was going on.
He was going to try and sway Maybelle’s opinion and try to convince him to sell her again.
Aphrayaozu had another thing coming as their “secret weapon” worked its magic.

This was the most massive domicile Srebral had ever seen. Six sleeping chambers, six baths
with water being heated by any of the nine servants whenever the personal thralls wanted to
bathe. His personal thralls were attractive women. A human, a half drow who was mixed
with goblin, and a rock gnome. Maybelle didn't really pay attention to their names or
anything. She never did much with other women, but she wasn’t opposed to the idea either.
There was a kitchen which Srebral was shocked to see was twice as big as the one at his inn!
This rich geezer even had a stage for private performances!? In the wine cellar, Aphrayaozu
offered Maybelle some wine.

She accepted it. “Srebral makes wine too. It's really good!“ She informed him, making sure to
hype up her master. She took a sip of the deep red alcohol. It was alright, but it was swill
compared to her master's brew. “I mean no offense, but I think I like Master's ripple white
wine better. I'm merely being honest. I was taught that it's bad to lie…” She said. Srebral's
heart fluttered when she said she preferred his wine.

“Oh, really? Perhaps I'll have to try a bottle of your master's wine.” The creed-master said.

“I'll have my best bottle sent to you.” Srebral said. By the end of this tour, Maybelle was so
worked up. She was tugging at her master's robe.
“Yes, Maybelle?” He checked on her. “Oh my goodness!” His face turned white when he
realized just how aroused she was.

“Is she alright?” Aphrayaozu asked, looking into her thoughts. “Oh dear…”

“Uhm. I’m sorry if this is crude, but I’ll be fine! Really! Unless, you wanted to play with
me… I know you wanted to see me and you’ve been looking at me all this time…” She
shifted a bit in place shyly.

“She’s grown quite bold in your ownership, Srebral.” Aphrayaozu sounded amused.

“I didn’t mean for her to! It just kind of happened!” Srebral waved his tentacles dismissively
and covered his face with them. Aphrayaozu gave a wheezy laugh.

“Sounds a lot like my first thrall. You wouldn’t think a shield dwarf would initiate such an act
but she was quite a saucy little vixen…” The old ulitharid reminisced. Aphrayaozu missed
Jynnora dearly. He missed all 12 of the thralls he lost in his old colony so much.

Srebral could tell this was someone who cared for their thralls just by the way the ones he
currently had were pampered. Would Maybelle be happier if he could do things like that for
her…? Maybelle was feeling awfully needy, and it was distracting Srebral from that line of
thought. He lifted up her dress. He could see a visible wet spot in her underwear from how
wet she was. “I don’t suppose you want to help out with this, do you?” Srebral asked, his
tentacles curling awkwardly.

“Let’s bring her to my chambers. We’ll get that taken care of right away for you, Maybelle.”
Aphrayaozu spoke in a comforting tone.

“Th-thank you sir!” She mumbled with a shy smile on her face. “Cheese and crackers,
Srebral! This stuff is really strong!” She thought to Srebral.

“Reading your mind, It’s starting to make me feel pent up as well…” Srebral admitted as they
descended down into the creed-masters room. It was a warmly lit room with a big circular
moss bed in the center. The walls contained carvings of 12 beautiful women of various races.
Unbeknownst to all but himself and his closest creed associates, the artpiece was a
memorial.

Srebral didn’t admire it for very long. The real masterpiece was in front of him. She pulled up
her dress in front of the bed, Aphrayaozu pulled down her underwear, a thick string of her
clear nectar dripping out. “Aww… Poor Maybelle. We made her wait far too long for this.”
Aphrayaozu said. Maybelle gasped softly upon feeling Srebral’s tentacle rubbing her soaked
pussy.
Aphrayaozu’s tentacles teasingly curl around her thighs as the 7’10’’ tall ulitharid pulled off
her dress, leaving her completely nude. With Srebral’s involvement, any nervousness
Maybelle had melted away. She whimpered softly from his touch, dripping all over his
tentacle.

“Oh, we’ll make it up to her, I’m sure…” Srebral said smugly, a tentacle rubbing across her
warm cheek.

“I-I forgive you! Y-you don’t owe me anything!” She giggled. Just the tip of his tentacle
against her clit was making her whimper with pleasure.

“Don’t be so modest… Be honest… You know lying is bad.” Srebral teased her.

‘I want it so bad! I really really want to feel good right now, sir!” Maybelle confessed. “M-
make me feel good, pretty please??” She begged.

“Fuck, she’s so cute, even when she begs for carnal pleasure.” Srebral concedes.

“Especially when she begs for carnal pleasure.” Aphrayaozu added. The two of them
brought her to the bed. Maybelle gave Srebral a tender kiss and licked one of his tentacles
before giving him a smug grin and raising her eyebrows at him subtly. She turned to
Aphrayaozu and took one of his tentacles into her mouth, gently sucking on it and licking it.

“I’ll need a lot more than teasing to be satisfied. Your employees got me addicted to tentacle
sex. Don’t you think you should take responsibility, Mister Creed-Master?” She joked,
giggling softly.

“Maybelle!” Srebral scolded in a gooey voice, his face completely pale. “I did NOT teach her
to be that cheeky!” He swore. Aphrayaozu found it highly amusing.

“Ah, but Karlux and Kan were not my employees at the time of deflowering, so your claim is
null and void.” Aphrayaozu said.

“I continued rendering services to them up until about 5 months ago.” Maybelle said, clearly
showing off years of contract knowledge absorbed second hand over the years of being
exposed to the Possessor Creed illithids.

“You’ve got me there…” He playfully conceded. “I’ll be sure to pay my debt in full.” The
creed-master pulled Maybell into his lap.

“Do you want one of my thralls for extra company?” Aphrayaozu offered.
“I’m new to doing stuff like this. I’m only comfortable with Maybelle right now… Maybe
some other time?” Srebral wasn’t saying no because anything was possible, he was just
wanting to focus on Maybelle.

“That’s perfectly understandable. Some go their whole lives happy with a single thrall.” His
tentacles restrained her arms, spread her legs and teased her breasts. Maybelle looked at
Srebral expectantly.

“I need you too, Master! Pretty please?” She begged. He was sucked into her mind once
again. He couldn’t help but join her. He floated over to her and his tentacles lovingly caressed
her neck, her face and her shoulders. Slowly they wandered lower, she moaned softly as they
once again teased her before she felt one of them filling her up, plunging into her.

“A-aah! Yes! Just like that! Please fuck me, master!” She moaned. “O-oh I’m making such
naughty sounds! Put a tentacle back in my mouth, please?” She pleaded. Aphrayaozu
obliged, muffling her moans with a tentacle. He teased that vacant nipple with one of his
hands.

“I have a feeling you won’t care about what kind of noises you’re making soon…” Srebral
teased Maybelle.

“Dammit! You’re right!” Maybelle’s cheeks turned pink. Her eyes rolled back as she gave in
completely.

No more thoughts were in her head. All she could think about was making her master feel
good. Making him proud for a job well done. She would be a good girl and cum for them.
She relaxed, deeply embracing her sexual servitude to her master. He couldn’t help but coil
one of his tentacles around her free breast. It was too warm and soft not to.

“Good God-Brain, her breasts are amazing, aren’t they?” Srebral asked the creed-master,
through gooey moans.

“She’s a very- Nngh-! Unique thrall! I can’t believe you haven’t appraised her! She could
easily gain.. At least a gold collar.” Aphrayaozu praised. His voice grew gooier as well.

Srebral was right. She didn’t care about the sounds they were making at all. It all felt too
good to stop! Her pussy started squirting all over her master’s tentacles as he teased her
clitoris while thrusting another tentacle in and out of her.

“I’ve never done that before…!” Maybelle’s cheeks turned pink. She normally wasn’t a
squirter. This aphrodisiac must have had some added side effects. Srebral would take note of
that.
“S-sorry for the mess, sir!” Maybelle aplogized to Aphrayaozu.

“Oh, it’s quite alright, dear. That’s what servants are for!” The ulitharid chuckled.

“Can we do it some more, Please?” Maybelle asked.

“Especially needy today, are we?” Srebral continued. He couldn’t wait until the next
Breeding Pen visit to take over Kalamash and fuck her senseless while she’s on this stuff. He
was even willing to pay extra for it.

“Yes, sir! I can’t help it!” She pleaded her innocence, even though it was all her idea in the
first place.

“You know exactly what you’re doing. I think you just wanted an excuse to get my tentacles
on you.” He panted the entire time he was speaking dirty into her mind.

“Can’t help that either! They feel so good!” Maybelle squealed.

“You’re still a good girl for sharing with us.” He praised her. Her legs were shaking. She
squirmed against her tentacled bonds involuntarily as he continued pleasuring her.

“Yes! Yes! I want to be your good girl! I want to be your favorite thrall!” She whimpered.
Her toes curled as she pleaded for him. It sent his mind deeper into her’s. Even with someone
else’s tentacles on her, Maybelle’s thoughts were firmly on making Srebral happy. She felt
warmth in her face as Srebral pressed his forehead against hers. Their breath mingled. “You’ll
always be my favorite…”

“You’re my favorite too!” Maybelle shivered hard, getting very close. She closed her eyes.
Aphrayaozu felt like an observer from the outside looking in. He felt it, but it was somehow
muted to him…

Maybelle and Srebral were embracing each other in a swirling sea of red. It was strange at
first, almost crushing and overwhelming, but her mind’s will gently wrapped around him, like
a blanket and they joyfully twirled together as the color lightened to a soft pink, twinkling
with Maybelle and Srebral’s shared love and desire. She clung to him tightly, her face turned
completely red, and Aphrayaozu pulled his tentacle from her mouth as she was about to burst
before she finally came hard.

She practically screamed, unable to hold it any longer. Srebral collapsed onto the bed,
holding her hand as she rolled out of Aphrayaozu’s lap. Srebral couldn’t think about anything
other than how wonderful that was. The ulitharid’s grip became weak as he laid there, coming
face to face with the carvings of his former lovers above the headboard. Tears were streaming
from his eyes. When Srebral got his bearings he looked at Aphrayaozu.

“Uh… Aphrayaozu…? Are you alright?” He looked a bit nervous at his reaction.

“Oh no! He’s crying! Did I do something bad, sir!?” Maybelle pouted.

“N-no… You did nothing wrong, Maybelle… I’m crying because… You experienced a mind
dance with Srebral…” He explained.

“A what dance??” Srebral asked.

“Oh God-Brain… You Southwest Faerun illithids are more repressed than I thought… ”
Aphrayaozu muttered.

“It’s the most wonderful experience an illithid in love can have…” Aphrayaozu said. “It’s
hard to describe because it’s different for everyone, unique to those involved… After I lost my
thralls, I spent the past three years trying so hard to experience it again. I thought Maybelle
could help me feel what I’ve been missing, but I know now I could never have that with her.
She’s bonded to you.” He explained. The ulitharid slowly sat up.

“That’s why you wanted Maybelle so badly…” Srebral realized. “I have to be honest… Those
letters you sent really pissed me off!” He pointed out.

“I believe I lost sight of what was truly important to me. I apologize if I caused you… And
Maybelle any distress.” Aphrayaozu humbly apologized. Maybelle felt a little bad for him,
but was happy that her plan had worked! She gave him a consolation kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t worry, Aphrayaozu! I know you’ll find your happiness again!” She smiled.

“Thank you for your kind words, Maybelle.” Aphrayaozu’s tentacles softly curled. He
couldn’t be left feeling all that bad about it. He gained some valuable insight out of this entire
experience.

“You’re free to use one of my baths, Srebral. I’ll get the servants to get it ready for you.” The
creed-master said. Srebral thought this creed-master was a total creep and a sleaze, but after
meeting him, all he saw was a heart broken old man desperate for lost love. He really wasn’t
as unkind or as spiteful as he imagined an ulitharid would be… Srebral helped Maybelle up.
She was a bit unsteady on her feet still, but she was fully satisfied.

“Thank you, Srebral, and mister creed-master! I feel much better now!” She smiled.
“You’re supposed to address them by their name…” Srebral softly scolded her, as he took her
upstairs to get bathed.

“It’s fine… Thanks for humoring your elders, Srebral.” Aphrayaozu said. He needed to be
alone with his thoughts for a bit.

“You know, she’s probably right… You’re not so bad after all…” Srebral sounded much
calmer. He couldn’t believe he’d got roped into doing this, but he was glad he had.
 Erotic Dominance Tournament: Round 2
Chapter Summary

Vizaness faces off against Thegrian and his dwarf thrall in the second round of the high
tier erotic dominance tournament!

Today was the 2nd round of the high tier Erotic Dominance Tournament! Vizaness’ opponent
would be Thegrian, a prestigious breeder of gold dwarves. Kalamash would be going against
a male gold dwarf named Argan Emberlight. Vizaness was admittedly nervous. Dwarves
were notorious for their animosity towards those of orcish heritage, and Kalamash had been
the victim of such prejudice in his surface life. A priority for Vizaness was that she wanted to
protect Kalamash from getting his feelings hurt by the other competitor. If for any reason a
competitor didn’t want to compete against a certain opponent, first the judges would
determine why and who was at fault, and if any penalty should be assigned.

One or both competitors were then afforded the opportunity to choose one other thrall and be
given the chance to compete with that thrall for the round. If the competitor could not get
their thrall to cooperate after that, it would be considered a no contest until the judges would
discuss and vote on the winner themselves. Vizaness and Kalamash were getting ready for the
next round. “Are you nervous about your opponent?” Vizaness asked Kalamash.

“Not really. I know you won’t let anyone be mean to me.” He replied. Vizaness gently floated
as she nuzzled against him lovingly.

“That’s right. I won’t let anyone hurt my big strong Golden Boy.” She cooed.

Thankfully, Kalamash wasn’t someone who held grudges for very long. He didn’t get angry
very easily. When he did become angry, it was easy to make him forget about what he was
even mad about in the first place. Just because some dwarves had hurt his feelings in the past,
it didn’t mean that all of them would. His mistress would keep him safe. The remaining
competitors were then called to their arenas. Vebeva was too busy to show up, but she would
be scrying to see who won from the comfort of her lab today. Zusrall, however, had a front
row seat to the event.

“Behave yourself this time.” Zusrall told his thrall. They smiled mischievously as if they had
been caught.
“I can’t help it if watching these matches gets me all worked up, Master. Maybe you
shouldn’t bring such a naughty thrall.” They quietly teased him.

“And leave you home to do God-Brain knows what on my furniture? You’ll just have to wait
until we get home.” He said. “If I catch you touching yourself, I’ll punish you when we get
home.” He threatened. Both of them knew that his threats were only encouraging the
behavior.

“I’ll do my best to be a good thrall.” They gave him a mischievous smile. Oceana was sitting
next to them, not paying attention to their quiet banter.

Argan had tanned skin, amber eyes, black hair and a beard that was long and braided, tied
with bands of gold. “So, yer the lad I’m dealing with. I hope yer better than my last
opponent.” The dwarf taunted.

“I’ll do my best!” Kalamash said. He hadn’t considered doing it with a dwarf before but he
didn’t find Argan unattractive at all.

“You might have gotten lucky with your last opponent, but don’t expect me to go easy on
you.” Thegrian taunted her.

“Oh, please. This isn’t my first tournament. Save your bullying for some newbie.” Vizaness
responded calmly.

What they hadn’t expected was that this dwarf would push the tall half-orc back onto his
back on the moss mattress. Immediately he started fondling Kalamash. He blushed, surprised
that he was willing to touch him like this. The dwarf began stroking Kalamash’s cock.
Argan’s eagerness quickly made his shaft erect. It was the one thing he liked more than
anything. He loved it when his partners clearly wanted his company. He moaned when the
dwarf began licking it. “Focus Kalamash. Deep breaths…” Vizaness encouraged him to slow
down and not get too excited yet. He could feel a soothing presence and embraced it. “Ask
him if he thinks he can take the choking hazard.” Vizaness said, jokingly. Kalamash chuckled
at her joke.

“Mistress wants to know if you can ‘take the choking hazard’...“ Kalamash blushed as he
followed through on her orders with a shy smile. Vizaness thought that maybe challenging
the cocky dwarf would cause their opponents to overestimate their abilities.

“Awful humble aren’t ye?” Argan smirked.

“We’ve trained for this, Vizaness. You wouldn’t believe how hard it was to find a training
partner for him.” Thegrian said confidently.
“Well let’s put that to the test, shall we?” Vizaness challenged. She took control of her thrall,
and Kalamash pushed Argan’s head down. He was taught early on that this kind of behavior
was rude without permission, but the dwarf put up little resistance when the half-orc stuffed
his cock down his throat. It was so far so good until Kalamash bucked his hips involuntarily,
fucking his mouth for several moments. He let out a pleased moan. No one’s ever taken him
like this. Argan let out a muffled cry for air. Vizaness allowed Kalamash to release him so
they wouldn’t incur a foul.

Argan found something incredibly arousing about nearly choking on the half-orc’s cock as he
panted to catch his breath. “Master, shall we show the lad how it’s done?” Argan thought to
Thegrian.

“Agreed… Let’s try and put him in his place.” Thegrian said. Argan began rubbing
lubricating oil, which was provided by a servant thrall, onto his cock.

“Oi, lad…” Argan caught the half-orc off of his guard once again and spread his legs, pinning
them back to give himself some leverage. “I took yer dare. Now how about taking mine?”

“Interesting… He’s actually a bit smaller than Elzaphir. You can take him, Kalamash!”
Vizaness encouraged. She had him training with Elzaphir in case they needed to deal with a
male thrall that they couldn’t handle with brute force so easily due to his more gentle
demeanor. Kalamash simply nodded, willing to take the dwarf. He took a pillow and put it
under himself to give Argan some more leverage. Argan was starting to get into this far more
than he was with his last opponent.

“That’s it, lad…” Argan encouraged, lubricating his ass generously before sliding his cock
inside. Despite his stout size, it wasn’t any smaller than that of an average human’s penis.
Kalamash moaned softly.

“F-feels good…!” Kalamash moaned. Oceana found herself amused by this turn of events,
since she didn’t get to watch Kalamash’s training. Zusrall’s thrall was surprised.

“Woah! Nobody’s ever seen him bottom before!” They gasped. Vizaness purred audibly. She
could tell her Golden Boy was enjoying himself.

“Good boy. I knew you could do it!” She praised him. Maybe they’d enjoy this for just a little
bit…

“Damn, I can’t believe Vebeva is missing this!” Oceana said.

As the dwarf pounded him, Kalamash wanted to stroke his own cock, but his hand wouldn’t
do what he wanted it to. His mistress had him bound by her will alone, exhibiting perfect
control over him despite experiencing his pleasure just as strongly as he was.

“Not yet… Not yet, Kalamash.” She softly reminded him. He stopped resisting immediately,
giving in to her. He was a bit out of his depth but he trusted her. It was just like endurance
training. He felt himself relax. He practically begged for her to use him as she saw fit.

In the audience, Zusrall’s thrall thought their master wasn’t paying attention. They slipped
their hands under their robes. So far so good… For a few seconds before he startled them
with a tentacle wrapped around the collar. “Jeez! You’re so observant, Master!” Their cheeks
flushed.

“I think you’ve earned a spanking when we get home…” Zusrall pulled his thrall’s hands out
of their lap with their own hands, forcing them to stay at their sides.

They grew even more embarrassed when another illithid and their pretty red haired human
thrall were staring at them. The woman whispered something to her master and giggled with
a mischievous look on her face. The illithid began groping their thrall in front of them, as if
to tease the misbehaving thrall even more. They couldn’t look away! “Look all you want.
You’re only making your situation worse, you know.” Zusrall teased them. Their thrall
whined, not expecting other members of the audience to join in on punishing them. “Too bad.
You should have thought about that before disobeying me.” Zusrall sounded smug.

“Your thrall is being especially naughty today! I guess they just can’t help themselves.” The
other illithid close to them told Zusrall.

“Ehehe! Their face is so red, Master! How cute.” The human woman teased. That only made
the thrall’s blush worse. Zusrall’s thrall turned their attention to the arena instead to try and
distract themselves from the pretty lady teasing them. A huge upset was occuring!

“Work with me here, and I’ll let you touch yourself.” Vizaness promised. Kalamash wrapped
his legs around the dwarf and used his raw strength to bring his opponent onto the bed.
Kalamash had managed to bring himself on top of the dwarf, and he was continuing to take
him. “By my fuckin’ beard!” Argan exclaimed. He shivered as Kalamash rode his cock.

“That’s it, Kalamash! Show him how it’s done!” Oceana cheered. Even Zusrall’s thrall was
getting excited to see him on top.
“Sit down.” Zusrall commanded. His thrall plopped their butt onto their seat. The woman
next to them started moaning softly as her and her illithid partner started getting into their
own headspace. “Would your thrall like using my thrall's mouth?” He offered.

“Hm… We think that sounds like a fun idea.” The other illithid said. Zusrall made his thrall
get on their knees and start servicing the red haired woman. They weren't allowed to touch
themselves at all.

Meanwhile, Kalamash was eagerly masturbating as he took Argan balls deep inside him.
“Remember our training… Milk his cock.” Vizaness commanded. Kalamash repeatedly
clenched his ass, making it tight around Argan's cock. Thegrian’s face was pale. Both he and
his thrall were starting to get louder. Argan often took longer than most men to cum, and he
oftentimes was able to outlast his opponents. However, Kalamash was proving to be a worthy
opponent. Argan bucked his hips into Kalamash, swearing while filling him with a thick load
of cum.

Kalamash came hard, squirting semen onto Argan's beard and stomach. He panted as he
continued riding the dwarf and riding out his orgasm. Vizaness giggled pleasurably, loving
the feeling of hot cum lubricating her thrall as she pushed the other illithid out of his sensitive
thrall's mindspace.

“I kinnae best ye, lad! Mercy!” Argan begged.

Kalamash was left a dripping mess as he slowly removed himself from Argan's lap. Although
dwarves could often last and last, they had a longer refractory period than those of orcish
heritage. Kalamash easily would have continued if he were allowed to. “Thegrian has fallen
off! Vizaness is the winner!” One of the judges had announced.

“I'll concede that perhaps your first victory was not just a fluke…” Thegrian said to
Vizaness. “But don't get cocky! There's a good chance your next opponent is Selessk.”
Thegrian said, wanting to keep her ego in check.

“Thank you for your concern.” Vizaness replied with playful sarcasm. “Kalamash and I will
take each challenge as it comes. We're simply doing our best.” She feigned humility. She was
ecstatic to win another round.

“We lost, but I kinnae say ye didn't deserve tha win, lad.” Argan shook Kalamash's hand,
being a good sport.
“Thanks! I had fun.” Kalamash smiled. Zusrall was taking his thrall home. He had
sufficiently teased them enough. Zusrall didn't stay for long after the match.

“No time to stay and chat, but congratulations! I'll check the updated bracket later.” Zusrall
bid Vizaness farewell.

"Nice work, Mistress!" Oceana cheered Vizaness on. "That was so riveting!"

Vizaness sent Kalamash to get cleaned up and pampered while waiting for the bracket to
update.

“The semifinals will have the following matchups! Vizaness VS Selessk! Cusril VS A Breeder
Named Slisskbax! Congratulations to this round's winners!” The announcer called when the
bracket was updated.

"Oh boy... You got a big fight ahead of you, but I believe you'll put up an amazing effort!"
Oceana looked at the bracket.

Going against a creed-master didn't make Vizaness nervous in the slightest. It was as she
said. They'd take each challenge as it came. Selessk was just another challenge. Her next
opponent approached her. "I'll go join Kalamash in the bath, i-if that's alright with you!"
Oceana felt small next to such an important ulitharid. It was a bit overwhelming and scary.

"You are dismissed." Vizaness nodded, allowing her to go.

“Not bad for a middle tier breeder, but you've had your fun. I've got a score to settle with
Slisskbax, so you won't be standing in my way for very long.” Sellesk warned her.

“Taking bets already, are we? You know what they say about tadpoles before
ceremorphosis.” Vizaness said, calmly reminding her not to get overconfident.

“I've never failed to make it to the semifinals, so I'd like to see you try.” Sellesk walked away,
confident she would win.

Her boasting, true as it was, didn't scare Vizaness. The promise Kalamash and her made to do
their best for each other kept her grounded. Maybe she'd reward Kalamash for his victory
today by letting him sleep with her tonight…
 Punishment of a Bratty Thrall
Chapter Summary

Zusrall is punishing (you) for getting handsy with yourself at Vizaness' erotic dominance
match.

You never felt so humiliated and aroused in your whole life. After your master made you
pleasure another thrall in the audience without allowing you to pleasure yourself as well,
your head was a scrambled, lust filled mess. “Can you make it home? Or do I need to punish
you right here?” Your master asked you. The thought of being punished in front of everyone
was too embarrassing! You didn’t want absolutely everyone to know you were being bad.
You wanted to be punished in the comfort and safety of your home.

“Can we go home…?” You asked. Your master hooked his leash to your collar. Instantly, you
began to feel safer.

“Come.” Your master commanded. You followed him wordlessly.

That red haired human waved to you as you left. You cracked a small smile and awkwardly
waved back. You learned her name was Salina and her master’s name was Urbussk. You did
enjoy them, even if they turned you into a flustered mess. Maybe you’d get to play with them
again if you got lucky…

“No time to stay and chat, but congratulations! I'll check the updated bracket later.” Zusrall
bid Vizaness farewell. He walked past her with you in tow. There was a knowing look in
Vizaness’ eyes. You kept your eyes cast down on the walk back to your domicile, doing your
best to hide your arousal. You had trouble thinking about much else in the state you were in.
The instant the door was shut, the tension lessened.

He didn’t take the leash off. “Strip.” He commanded. You pulled your robe down and off
your body without hesitation. He inspected your body and probed your mind, looking at how
aroused you were. “You sure did get pent up…” He noted.

“I learned my lesson, Master!” Your face flushed. You really wanted relief. You gasped as he
pulled you in close to him by your leash. A tentacle cupped your chin, forcing you to look
him in the eyes.
“I decide when you have learned your lesson. Do you understand?” He corrected you.

“Yes, Master…” You whispered. You didn’t think it was possible for you to get any more
aroused than you already were. It made you feel hot when your master took charge and broke
down a bratty thrall. You got the feeling he wanted you to disobey him so he could put you
back in your place.

He led you over to his leather chair. He sat down and pulled you to lay over his lap. Zusrall
did say he was going to spank you. You tensed and gasped softly just from him caressing
your ass, warming you up for your punishment. His tentacles curled, amused at the effect he
had on you. He made good on his promise, striking your butt once. You made a surprised
yelp and he went right back to rubbing his clawed fingertips down your backside.

The anticipation was a powerful tool for Zusrall to use. Every little touch set your mind on
fire. He grabbed your hair, close to the scalp and pulled your head up. “Pay attention to this
lesson or I won't let you cum.” Zusrall threatened.

“I can only promise to try. I can't think so good when I'm like this…” You told him. He
firmly linked to your mind and senses. You let him in easily.

“This will get your attention.” He held you securely and began spanking you more. You
moaned and cried out, gripping onto the leather seat. “ Hrrrngh… This hurts me more than it
does you.” He said.

“Aahn! No it doesn't! You love spanking me!” You protested, calling him out on his lie. He
stopped at that. Did you say something wrong? You felt a spark of anxiety.

“Oh no, you caught me. Now I have to try a new method of discipline.” He teased you
sarcastically. He sensed curiousity in your mind. What would he do now? He had you get up
and revealed that the ottoman was a secret storage box. He pulled out a leather flogger. You
slowly put your hand over your mouth as if to keep your jaw from dropping. You knew what
he was going to do with that. He didn’t even have to tell you what he expected of you. You
got onto the seat of the leather chair, on your knees with your back facing him. You lean
against the back of the chair and stick your ass out for him.

“Like this? Am I in the right spot, Master?” You asked him.

Your master gave an approving growl. “Perfect…” He praised you. He held the flogger in a
tentacle and lightly trailed the tresses of it over your backside. You gasped and jumped a
little, before relaxing once you grew used to the sensation. You then yelped and moaned as
you felt the sudden sting of leather upon your ass.

“One!” You reluctantly started counting.

“Hesitating won’t lessen your punishment.” Zusrall teased you, striking at your buttocks
again.

“Two!” You gasped without hesitation. You started squirming after three.

“Did it hurt?” He asked.

“N-no, Master!” You lied. He knew you were lying to put on a brave face.

“How cute it is when you try to be tough…” He struck again. You groaned the number four.
“But you can be honest with me.” He said. You realized he was giving you time before each
strike. You eagerly stuck your ass back out for number five.

“Five…!” You whimpered.

“If you didn’t want this, you should have listened to your master.” He taunted. You did want
this. You both knew well you wouldn’t have disobeyed him if you didn’t want to be
punished. You diligently took strike number six, steeling yourself for it.

“Six!” You gasped.

“Your ass is looking quite red… Do you think you learned your lesson?” He checked in.

“I don’t know. You tell me.” You smirked. That earned you another strike.

“Seveeen!” You cried, squirming as the sting lingered.

“You’ve got a rather smart mouth on you lately…” He noticed. You didn’t respond after that.
“Nothing to say after that?” He asked.

“S-sorry. If it makes you mad, I’ll stop…” You said earnestly. You stuck your ass back out for
another whipping. He felt your headspace going to an anxious place.

“Hold your tongue in public and we’ll have no problems.” He told you. He secretly loved it
when you talked back to him. You shivered at strike number eight.
“Eight!” You moaned, becoming a panting mess. You always challenged yourself to take at
least ten.

“Why ten specifically?” He asked you.

“That was how many I took the first time you spanked me…” You responded. You felt strike
number nine sting against your ass. “Nine!”

“You don’t need to hold yourself to any standard. You can use your safe word any time you
need to.” Your master reminded you. You nodded in acknowledgement.

“Please, sir. May I have one more?” You kept your ass in position for him. You felt the
flogger crack against your ass. “TEN! Ooohh…” You squirmed, rubbing your hands against
your warmed and reddened ass cheeks.

“I guess we should do something about your aroused state of mind so you can actually reflect
on this lesson…” Zusrall tugged on your leash and you followed him into his chamber. The
damp moss against your butt felt so relieving. You watched him disrobe. Seems he was
worked up as well. “I still love you, even when you’re naughty.” He told you.

“I love you too, Master!” You said. He took off your leash. He pinned you down, spreading
your legs with his hands. He decided he was done teasing you.

“Use me. Make me perfect!” You begged, looking up at him expectantly.

“What an excellent idea, my favored bratty thrall. I think I will.” He said. That nickname
turned your cheeks red. You covered your face, and started moaning as you felt a tentacle on
your genitals. “You like that, don’t you?” He asked. You moved your hands away from your
face and nodded.

“Yes…! I love it!” You confessed. You loved being his personal toy. It was good practice for
his work, so in a way you figured you were helping him.

“I’ll be your perfect bratty thrall!” You told him.

“You’re making good progress.” Zusrall said, plunging a tentacle deep inside you. You
moaned as he filled you up. You relaxed, enjoying the sensation. You reached out for his
hand and he held your hand tightly.

“Th-thank you! Thank you for using me, Master!” You expressed your gratitude. He couldn’t
form a coherent word. He purred, loving how you felt after a punishment. He loved how
receptive you were to pleasure after the light pain and teasing. You definitely had Erotic
Dominance League potential.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. His other tentacles began to sensually tease
your body, rubbing, poking and prodding at your favorite spots to be touched. “Ah! Please. I
want to taste you…” You begged.

“Well… I suppose you learned something from this.” He conceded, sticking his tentacle in
your mouth. You eagerly sucked on it, moaning softly. Soon the thoughts from your head and
his slowly emptied. The communication between your minds became a raw and honest
feeling. A mutual desire to share pleasure and passion. You gave into it all. Your legs
quivered as if the vibrations of his purrs were shaking you to your very core.

Every movement threatened to bring you over the edge. You were barreling towards it. Your
master continued eagerly. Your breaths grew shaky. Your toes curled and you stayed as still
as you could, trembling. He knew you were about to cum. His voice became gooey. “Just a
bit more… Let go for me…” He moaned. He held your hand through it all as you both let out
a loud and long moan, riding out your shared orgasm.

Your master pulled his tentacles away from your genitals, leaving you dripping with illithid
slime. You laid there, tiredly nestled together for a minute or two. “I’ll get you cleaned up.”
He told you. You laid back and relaxed as he wiped you clean with a towel. “I certainly made
you work for it.” Zusrall said.

“I enjoyed it a lot. I think my favorite parts were when you made me pleasure the other thrall
and when you used the leash to dominate me.” You admitted to him.

“How interesting… I love using the leash as a tool for domination. The effect it has on thralls
to physically see and feel my domination of them intensifies everything. I also greatly enjoyed
spanking you.” He said.

“Forgive me if this is a stupid question, but what do you get out of spanking?” You asked out
of curiosity.

“That’s not stupid at all.” Zusrall assured you. “Well for one, I love watching that ass turn
red. Speaking of, let me see it for a moment.” He answered before commanding you to turn
over. You rolled over your stomach, and grabbed one of his pillows to hold. “It’s still a bit
red… Hold still. I’ll take care of that.”
You closed your eyes. The familiar scent of crag mushroom lotion filled the air, and the
cooling lotion was being massaged into your skin by him.”I appreciate you so much…” You
whispered, sinking into a feeling of relaxation. “Ah, I can’t pass out yet. You didn’t tell me
the rest of your reasons…”

“I very much enjoyed it when you kept sticking your ass out for me. The gift of your
submission is precious to me. When you submit to me, your mind and body is open to me. You
give me your trust. I get all your emotions. I do an action, you feel it, and live it. The
emotions distilled through your experience go directly to me thanks to the devotion and
connection we have. When it’s all said and done, I get to feel that release and relaxation.” He
explained.

“How would you describe your experience submitting to me?” He asked, curious about what
you would say.

“Like I don't have to worry about anything. Like I’m loved and unconditionally accepted by
you. When you take care of me like this… It makes everything better.” You softly smiled.
Your master picked you up bridal style, carrying you to your bed. Zusrall gently put you
down, giving you your rothe doll and tucking you in with one of your blankets. He had
recently spoiled you by buying you a second blanket. The truth is, he planned to use the extra
one himself when he chose to sleep in your bed.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked.

“Not at all!” You answered with a smile. You happily moved over to give him plenty of
space. Zusrall took advantage of that second blanket. All according to plan. You rolled over,
tenderly kissing your master.

“We have work tomorrow so you better go to bed. No misbehaving.” He tiredly mumbled.

“I’ll behave… I’m satisfied and sleepy…” You yawned.

“Good…” Zusrall tiredly gave you a headpat with a tentacle. You hugged your rothe doll
with a serene smile and closed your eyes.

Zusrall had a suspicion that Vizaness occasionally slept with Kalamash even if she never
directly admitted it to him. He knew for sure that Vebeva and Whim sometimes shared a bed
since Natiri spilled the beans to him. She confided that Whim made her feel a bit jealous over
it. He simply told her to ignore Whim’s boasting and that good things would come from hard
work and diligence. Of course, he completely made that advice up because he truthfully had
no idea how to handle such a situation.
Overall, it made him feel less self conscious about sharing a bed with you. This domicile was
a place where the two of you could be your authentic selves for each other. In this bed, by
your side, no one could tell him that the bond between himself and you was wrong. Right
now, all you had to do was exist for him to find comfort. He tiredly wrapped a tentacle
around the wrist that held the brand of his ownership, and comfortably drifted off with you.
 A Deep Tissue Massage
Chapter Summary

Vizaness gets a thorough massage from Elzaphir.

Vizaness was finally getting around to getting that massage on her day off as a reward for her
hard earned victory in the last round. She needed to relax in order to prepare her mind and
body for the next round. She had Elzaphir sent to her domicile. When he arrived, she was
wearing a see through lace lounging robe. It was white, made of spider silk and tied at the
waist with a silk sash. Vizaness was always wearing robes that showed off her figure.
Kalamash and Oceana both admired the aesthetics of them as well.

“It’s so good to see you again, Elzaphir! I’ve been so busy with training and the tournament!
I could really use your tension relieving touch.” Vizaness greeted him as she took him back
to her chambers.

“As always, I’ll take good care of you.” Elzaphir assured her. “I’ve missed you too. Out of
everyone I massage, you’re my absolute favorite.” The drow masseur compliments his
mistress. He closed the door, and brought herself onto a massage table she had set up.

“I should certainly hope so.” Her tentacles curled. She laid down on her back, and Elzaphir
sat in a chair just behind her. He began a gentle craniosacral massage. She closed her eyes,
enjoying the gentle sensation of touch on her head, the base of her scalp and her neck.
Elzaphir loved massaging his mistress. He always felt her relaxation, ending up in a state of
bliss himself. These massage sessions typically lasted 60 to 90 minutes. A good chunk of that
time was spent performing a craniosacral massage.

Her tentacles curled, clearly pleased with his touch. She enjoyed the feeling of his hands
upon her head for nearly half an hour, the pleasant sensation being subconsciously reflected
back at him. She couldn’t help it if she tried. She was in absolute bliss. She then removed her
robe, and turned over onto her stomach, ready for him to massage her back. He draped a
clean towel over her butt. The drow then slowly poured warm oil onto her back. She relaxed
as he slowly rubbed it in. She was in good shape, and had very little stress, so she didn’t have
any knots in her back. She purred softly from his touch.
Despite the closeness she recently started having with her thralls, the massages she had
arranged with Elzaphir had never become sexual. It was a purely relaxing affair and Elzaphir
had always acted in a graceful and professional manner. Vizaness was thinking about
changing that today. “It’s been a while since your last massage. Are there any areas you want
me to focus on?” Elzaphir asked.

“As a matter of fact…” Vizaness pulls away the towel, dropping it onto the floor. “I think I
need a deep tissue massage.” She implied that she wanted more than a massage this time.

“I certainly agree… I think I can give you exactly what you need and desire.” Elzaphir slowly
leaned in, delivering soft kisses to the back of her neck and slowly trailing down her body.
She felt herself growing more excited as he eagerly served her every desire effortlessly. She
gasped softly, her cheeks flushing pale as she felt him literally kissing her ass. What was he
doing? She tried to link with his senses, failing to achieve that when she felt his tongue
against her cloaca. “A-ahn!?” She let out a surprised and gooey moan.

He wasn’t entirely sure if she would like that, but she wasn’t telling him to stop. “Are you
alright with this, Mistress?” He asked to make sure. She reached back with her hand, pressing
his head back down to where it was.

“More!” She demanded. Elzaphir wordlessly followed through on his mistress’ command.
She purred as he continued. She was becoming thoroughly worked up, her tentacles
becoming gooier as this went on. She brought herself up to her knees. She needed to link
with him. She wanted him so badly. He kissed and licked her tentacles eagerly, making her
purr and pant. Her need only got more intense when she felt her thrall’s arousal.

“Take off your robes and get in bed with me.” She commanded. She levitated into her bed,
plopping herself into it, and watched him get into bed with her. She immediately began
jerking him off with two of her tentacles. She moaned softly. “Oh God-Brain, you’re such a
fine thrall…” She complimented him. “So fun to play with…” She panted and purred. Her
tentacles began to make slick squelching sounds as she stroked him. She carefully wrapped
her tendrils around his cock, turning them into a slimy and wet sleeve for him. She pumped
her tentacles up and down on his shaft with perfect synchronization.

“Mnn, Mistress… Being one of your Golden Boys is such a privilege and honor!” Elzaphir
softly moaned.

“Hnnh… You earned it! You deserve this reward.” Vizaness was panting. She couldn’t
neglect his testicles either. She gently fondled them with a third tentacle. She wouldn’t admit
it to anyone that she didn’t trust, but she loved the look and feel of humanoid penises. The
way they got hard and throbbed in her grip was pleasing. The overall look of them was often
a natural art form to her, best appreciated by tentacle touch of course. Perhaps it said
something about her subconsciously that she was drawn to decorations with a fungal
aesthetic…

He brought her up to her knees and pressed his forehead against hers. He knew if he came
now, it would be harder for him to finish the job. “Are you ready for your deep tissue
massage, mistress?” He asked her.

“Yes. I want it!” She begged him. She let out an excited squeal and giggled as he picked her
up and put her on her back. She got into position, spreading her legs for him. He rubs his
member against her cloaca, teasing her with it. “This is what you want?” Elzaphir asked,
making sure he had this right.

‘Yes! Yes, please! I need it!” Vizaness begged. She moaned as he slowly filled her. Elzaphir
cautiously and slowly goes balls deep. “Oh fuck!” She gurgled. “You’re filling me up to my
limit...” Her eyes rolled back. She encouraged him to slowly go faster. She began to whimper
as every thrust shook her body. “Oh, God-Brain, that’s so good!” She moaned in a gooey
voice. He pounded her senselessly, turning her into a giggling, whimpering mess. He put a
hand against her neck and her slimy tentacles wrapped around his arm.

“Ah! Fuck! Yes!” Vizaness couldn’t stop herself from losing herself in their mutual pleasure.
Meanwhile the other two thralls of the domicile could hear Vizaness’ cries of pleasure from
outside the room. Oceana stealthily cracked open the door so she could watch what was
going on. Kalamash found himself peeking as well. As much as he enjoyed seeing his
mistress feel good, if she wanted them to watch, he knew she would have left the door
open…

“Mistress wants alone time with Elzaphir.” Kalamash whispered.

“Shh… It’ll be fine…” Oceana offered a whispered protest. She pulled down his pants and
started stroking his cock. He couldn’t narc on her if he couldn’t think. He was already hard
from hearing his mistress’ moans. Oceana’s hand didn’t make it any better, but he was still
determined to keep his mistress comfortable. Oceana ended up with far more than she
bargained for when he picked her up effortlessly and carried her to her room. She covered her
mouth to keep from alerting her mistress.

“Be good…” Kalamash told her.

“Alright, alright… Want to play with ourselves together?” Oceana offered. Kalamash nodded,
taking off his clothes and getting into her bed. He got comfortable among her bedding and
began stroking his cock, letting her watch him play with himself. She sat across from him,
rubbing her clitoris eagerly. Oceana loved being watched by others as much as she enjoyed
watching them. Kalamash knew she was also a bit of an exhibitionist, so this was an
acceptable compromise. With the door open, they could still hear their mistress’ gurgled
moans. It was the perfect background noise for them.

In Vizaness’ chambers, the illithid was a panting mess. She changed position, laying on her
stomach. She raised her hips, inviting the drow to fill her up once more. Vizaness found
something pleasurable about Elzaphir pushing half her body into the moss mattress. She
didn’t have to think, all she had to do was take it. Even in a submissive position, she told
herself she was still in control. After all, she commanded him to do it. Her Golden Boys don’t
do anything she doesn’t tell them to. She felt him lean in, grabbing her hips to pull her in.

“O-oh God-Brain! You’re so deep…!” Vizaness squeaked. All she had to do was relax and
link to Elzaphir. The intense sensation of being fucked senseless by her thrall brought them
both closer to the edge. She was drooling on the pillow that she had shoved her face into. She
couldn’t think and she didn’t want to. Unintelligible praise and affirmations of pleasure
echoed from her mind and mouth.

In Oceana’s room, she inevitably began to get curious about Kalamash. “I’m sooo wet. Want
to feel it with your cock?” The water gensai offered. She wanted to see what the hype was
about. He gulped, staring at her with a reddened face. He nodded silently. He often ended up
completely weak whenever a pretty thrall made offers to him like that. She bent over in front
of him. Kalamash laid back with his legs spread, allowing her to rub her wet pussy against
him.

“Mnn… Be a good boy and stay still. I’ve never had anything so big…” She told him. Her
cheeks were pink. She wasn’t sure what her mistress would think about her doing this with
her favorite thrall unsupervised. Maybe it would be fine as long as she was careful? She was
dripping all over his cock. Water genasi women were often well lubricated, making these rare
and exotic thralls highly desirable mates for other thralls.

Kalamash stayed perfectly still, keeping his hands off of himself. His cock was achingly hard
as he watched her tease him. She gasped as she felt the tip sliding into her. He couldn’t help
himself as he bucked his hip, pushing himself deep inside. “Ohh! Fffuck…!” She hissed,
covering her mouth. Oceana kept going, slowly taking him deeper. Her original plan of
“being careful” was completely thrown into a pit. Hopefully Vizaness wouldn’t be mad at
her. After all, it was an accident. She didn’t mean to take him like this. Who was she kidding?
She knew Vizaness wouldn't buy that excuse at all. He wanted to ask if she was alright, but
he couldn’t even form a single word. It was so similar to his mistress’ tentacles. Kalamash
practically exploded deep inside her tight and wet pussy. Oceana moaned and shivered,
squirting on him as she finally removed herself from him.

Vizaness could hear the noises her thralls were making. Seems her own activities had caused
a bit of a chain reaction in her home this time. The idea that she inspired hedonism in others
only enhanced the pleasure she felt. When Elzaphir pulled out to cum, she eagerly brought
her face close to his cock, closing her eyes. She wanted his cum on her so badly, she couldn’t
even put it into words, but he felt it. He firmly felt it in his mind as he stroked his cock. He
wanted to give it to her just as badly.

The two of them shared Elzaphir’s orgasm. She giggled as she felt his hot semen squirting
onto her face and tentacles. “Ahahaha! Yeeesss! Oh yes… Good boy…” Vizaness groaned in
a gooey voice. “Oh wow, a facial too? What excellent service!” She praised him as his seed
dribbled down her tentacles and onto her chest. She eagerly rubbed it in with her tentacles.
Elzaphir gently cleaned his mistress up. He softly kissed her cheek.

“My mistress deserves the best.” He smiled.

Vizaness gave him a tentacle headpat. She moved to go check on her other thralls, and caught
Kalamash walking out of Oceana's room with a satisfied grin on his face. “Oceana, was he
gentle with you?” She had to make sure she didn't get herself hurt. The water genasi blushed
as Vizaness peeked into her room. He had let her use his pants to clean herself up. “Aw, what
a gentleman.” She teased her.

“He didn't hurt me. I wasn't intending to do that, I just, uh…” Oceana tried to at least come
up with a convincing excuse.

“Oceana, I wasn't ceremorphed yesterday. No one takes Kalamash's dick by accident.” Her
tentacles curled as she shook her head.

“Heheh… Well one thing lead to another and uh…” Oceana rubbed the back of her head with
a shy smile.

“You talked him into it, didn’t you?” Her eyes squinted in amusement.

“I only offered to keep him company. At first…” Oceana said. “I hope you’re not mad at him.
Or me.”
“Oh please, I calculated that you had a 74% chance of engaging in unsupervised sexual
conduct with Kalamash. You honestly had plenty of opportunities. I’m surprised it took you
this long to do it.” Vizaness said analytically.

“Y-you had this down to an exact science??” Oceana asked.

“Ehehe! Of course I did! I know you often prefer to play solo or with illithids as opposed to
with other thralls, but as long as you treat him kindly, I have no problem.” Vizaness
confirmed she wasn’t mad at them.

Elzaphir was once again dressed and exited her room after cleaning up the massage set up.
“Do you require anything else of me, Mistress?” Elzaphir asked her.

“Why yes… How would you like to spend the night?” She asked her drow masseuse.

“Oh no, another privilege that Valdran hasn’t gotten yet!” Oceana joked.

“I’ll have to remedy that. I’ll make it up to him later…” Vizaness’ tentacles curled smugly.

“I would love to, Mistress! Thank you. It feels like a high compliment…” The drow was
genuinely touched. “But uhm… Where will I sleep?” He asked. Would he be sharing a bed
with Kalamash or Oceana? The half-orc’s bed seems large enough…

“With me.” She answered.

“Oh my… Such a high honor…! Thank you!” He smiled. Sharing a bed with his mistress was
something he enjoyed the concept of, but he thought that it was just a silly idea from
Valdran’s wildest fantasies. He wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating. Was this real?

“No, I’m not pranking you.” She assured him.

Later in the night, behind a closed chamber door, the sound of flesh slapping against slimy
flesh and muffled gooey moans reverberated through the domicile. With each thrall’s door
shut, it wasn’t loud enough to disturb her thralls. Oceana ended up having an erotic dream
about illithids watching her have sex with Kalamash. Kalamash held onto a pillow in his
sleep, drooling on it as he rested peacefully. He had a pleasant dream that his mistress was
with him at his old surface home. It was a warm summer dusk, surrounded by fireflies in the
shady backyard…
 Meeting the Neighbors and Going on a Date
Chapter Summary

Trezzir gets to know a couple of his new neighbors before meeting Welvyr to copy a
spell from his spellbook.

Trezzir awoke to the sound of knocking on his door. He groggily groaned and sat up. Another
knock. “I'm coming!” He snapped. He wondered who could be knocking so impatiently. He
opened the door and didn't see anyone. Has he been pranked?

“Down here!” He heard a voice. He looked down to see two identical gnome men, both with
copper brown hair, green eyes and identically groomed moustaches. Oh, great. Gnomes…

“What do you want?” Trezzir asked, barely masking his annoyance.

“Hello, new neighbor!” One of the gnomes greeted Trezzir. “I'm Zildri!”

“I'm his brother Bildri!” The other gnome greeted.

“We're the Coppertwist Twins!” They introduced themselves in unison. Trezzir's eyes
squinted at them with subtle disdain. What was the fastest way to get them to get them to go
away? Trezzir shuts the door in their faces.

His plan did not work. Those two dunderheads didn’t take the hint and knocked again.
“You’re fucking kidding me…” He thinks to himself. He opens the door again. “Don’t you
have anything better to do?” Trezzir asked. He figured eating these two would be frowned
upon, and it would be junk food anyway. He had higher standards for his meals.

“We do!” Bildri said.

“We brought you a gift basket!” Zildri said, holding a wicker basket they didn’t have in their
hands a moment ago, holding it up for him to take it. It contained a journal, stationary, inks
and quills. Some of the inks were even magical inks for spell scribing.

“Thanks, I guess…” Trezzir reluctantly accepted it.

“What’s your name? We can’t keep calling you ‘New Neighbor’ forever!” Zildri asked.
Maybe he could get some information out of these two and save himself some socializing…
If he could tolerate them that is. He decided against it, not wanting to talk to them any more
than he had to. “It’s Trezzir. Now will you go away? I'm still getting settled in. And no, I don’t
want help. I don’t need friends. They disappoint me.” Trezzir replied.

“Aww, gee. That’s too bad.” Bildri pouted.

“Oh well. We’re right across the hall if you change your mind!” Zildri said.

“I won’t but thank you for your consideration…” Trezzir once again shut the door, hoping
they don’t knock again. He waited several moments. The sweet sound of silence graced his
auditory perception and he sighed with relief.

Today, he planned to get some new furniture for his domicile as well as copy that Unseen
Servant spell from Welvyr’s spellbook. He had to get rid of that hideous sofa and replace the
broken chair in the study. And then- Another knock at the door. These two were starting to
annoy him. “I thought I told you to go a-” He yanked open the door, coming face to face
with a red dragonborn. Did they stick him in the diversity dorms or something? “Sorry. I
thought you were the Coppertwist twins again.” Trezzir apologized.

“The twins can be alot to deal with sometimes, but they don’t mean any harm. Sorry for
bothering you. Is Torrelkyn in?” The dragonborn asked.

“Is that who was supposed to be my roommate?” Trezzir asked. “They don’t live here
anymore. And no. I didn’t eat their brain and take their room. They moved out after learning I
would be moving in.” He explained.

“Huh. Didn’t know he was prejudiced. Well, welcome to the neighborhood. The name’s
Hirrathak Linxakasendalor.” The red dragonborn wizard introduced himself.

“I’m not even going to pretend to commit that clan name to memory.” Trezzir admitted. He
was glad that his would-be roommate had left. It meant he got the dormitory all to himself.

“That’s alright. Nobody says or spells it right anyway.” He chuckled. “Alright, I’ll leave you
alone. I live at 120 if you need anything.” Hirrathak said.

“Alright, thanks.” Trezzir said with more genuine sincerity than he had for the gnomes. He
didn’t think much of the red dragonborn, but his overall presence seemed harmless and
inoffensive. “Actually, do you know if there are any other unique characters I should be
looking out for?” He was beginning to wonder if he should get a nice little sign or door mat
that read “GO AWAY!” as part of his dormitory’s decor. He had a feeling the Coppertwist
Twins would ignore it anyway, so it was humorously pointless.
“Not out of my dorm at least. Darlene’s a total sweetheart of a human. I’ve never had any
issues with her. I think she’s got some Imaskari lineage. Your neighbor in 118 is a bit of a
snake. She’s a duergar by the name of Lasgwyn. She'll leave you alone as long as you don't
have something she wants. Darlene doesn't like her, but if you're careful about what you say
to her…” Hirrathek began explaining the local dynamics.

“Then she can be useful.” Trezzir reasoned, finishing the dragonborn's line of thought.
Hirrathek nodded.

“Lirven is the sun elf in 119. You probably won't see him much. I barely even talk to the guy.
He keeps to himself. I think he's just focused on doing his work. Darlene says Lirven’s father
sent him to this school after non-drow were allowed permanent residence in 1485.” The
dragonborn said. So this was the non-drow neighborhood… It was starting to make sense
why none of his other neighbors were drow. In a way it was funny that he had unintentionally
chased the last one away.

“Mergos said there was an illithid student here about 60 years ago. Do you know anything
about that?” Trezzir was curious.

“Nope. Whatever school they were a part of probably kept their attendance a secret. Likely
for their own gain.” Hirrathek answered.

“That makes sense… Well thanks for the information. By the way, I'm Trezzir. I am likely to
tolerate your presence should you wish to visit. So long as you don't waste my time, that is.”
Trezzir said. Hirrathek found his blunt honesty amusing.

“See you around, neighbor.” He bid Trezzir farewell.

If anyone else knocked on the door, he resolved to ignore it as he went inside to change into
some clean robes. He thought about perhaps getting some new threads as well. He was
actually quite partial to rich, deep orange hues. He could wear what he wanted now. Sure,
someone might still tell him it was ugly, but he was now within his right to tell them to shut
up and mind their own business. His robes were in serviceable repair, with a couple hastily
sewn together holes here and there. Welvyr had done his best, but he was no tailor. Damn
those Possessor bankers and their perfectly tailored robes… He hated how pampered they
made themselves. He deserved those promotions! He’d been a merchant long before that
creed came to town. His expertise alone should have been enough to get him a higher
position.
He got another sending from Welvyr. "I'll meet you at the quillspires. They're northwest of
Z'orr'bauth. Those hollowed out stalactites hanging from the roof. I love you too." Welvyr
told him via the spell. He put the mental rants about his clothes and his furniture out of his
mind. He blushed at that last bit.

“It’s good to hear your voice again. I am available and would love to see you. I’ll head there
now.” Trezzir replied. His tentacles curled. The reciprocation of his last sending conversation
made his entire being feel lighter.

He grabbed his bag and the staff Welvyr gave him. He headed out of his dormitory in high
spirits, locking the door behind him. Trezzir was someone with a great sense of direction, so
he almost never got turned around or lost. It wasn't at all difficult for him to find The
Quillspires even with Welvyr's somewhat vague directions. He was the first to arrive. Where
was he? 6 minutes later, the drow came running up.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting.” Welvyr apologized.

“It's alright. What kept you?” Trezzir inquired.

“My roommate is a decent cook but he decided to show off with what he called flambe…”
He explained.

“Oh boy… I had a rather exciting morning too. Two of my neighbors are gnomes.” Trezzir
groaned. Welvyr personally had no issue with gnomes and was surprised his master had a
hatred of them, because they're so rarely encountered.

“Why the issue with gnomes?” Welvyr asked.

“Surface gnomes specifically. Their shenanigans and those nasally voices are annoying… I
have no tolerance for it.” Trezzir explains. He had no issue with deep gnomes.

“It's alright. I thoroughly dislike duergar.” Welvyr admitted.

“Oh… I apparently have one of those as a neighbor too. Right next door. It's actually my
people's fault they exist so I apologize on behalf of all illithids.” Trezzir jokingly apologized.

Trezzir held no hatred for the gray dwarves and thought that his city's interactions with them
were often tactical blunders. Any trouble with them was mostly the fault of the illithids, but
they didn't like it very much when that truth was pointed out to them. “Wait, the illithids
made duergar?” Welvyr asked, unaware of that lore. They entered The Quillspires, walking to
a library as they talked.
“Yes. We took perfectly good, hard working dwarves and gave them depression.” Trezzir
simplified generations of cruel and unusual experiments and slavery that turned the gray
dwarves into what they were today. His neighbor was likely a criminal exile. Duergar usually
didn't travel of their own free will.

The two of them found a quiet and out of the way desk to scribe at. Welvyr opened his
spellbook to the spell that Trezzir wanted to copy. “I got these inks from the gnomes. Can you
test it to make sure they didn't tamper with it?” Trezzir requested. He clearly didn't trust their
gift not to have some annoying catch.

“I'm sure it won't ruin your spellbook, but if it does, I'm sure we can think of a fitting
revenge.” Welvyr tried to ease his paranoia.

“Welvyr please… Do this for me?” He couldn't believe he had to ask for him to comfort him.
His stomach was in knots.

“Alright, alright. If it will put your mind at ease.” Welvyr opened the bottle and dipped his
quill into it. His writing when he wasn't taking his time was chicken scratch. It wasn't near as
elegant as Trezzir's penmanship.

“I can't even read that.” Trezzir told him.

“Hence why I write so slowly. I had my fingers smacked with the cane quite a bit over
this…” He said, frowning slightly. It read “May the Ink be fine and serve its purpose.”.
Trezzir looked at the writing and then at Welvyr’s hands. He realized he had no idea how
much pain Welvyr had gone through in his education. Scars that couldn’t be seen, lingering in
his mind. The illithid’s eyes keenly scanned the room. No one else was around. He reached
out and placed his hand over Welvyr’s. His touch was gentle and tender.

His tone was stern. “If anyone ever touches you like that again, I’m eating them.” He meant
it. No one would ever harm Welvyr again and live a full and comfortable life.

“My teachers and tormentors were often one in the same, and they were often far stronger
people than either of us… Not that you’re incapable. I’m just being realistic.” Welvyr said.
The drow never imagined that anyone would want to protect him. Trezzir’s tentacles gently
drooped as his heart sank a bit.

“If I can’t protect you, at least let me comfort you. Try to keep yourself alive so I can share
your burdens.” Trezzir said. Welvyr intertwined his fingers with Trezzir’s. He leaned in,
pressing his forehead against Trezzir’s with tenderness.
“I can do that.” Welvyr mentally promised. “You’re getting distracted from your copying…”
Welvyr pointed out, teasingly poking Trezzir’s tentacle.

“It’s hardly my fault! I had difficulty sleeping without you nearby…” Trezzir confessed as he
began studying Welvyr’s spellbook.

“Does my absence cause you distress?” Welvyr whispered his question.

“It does… However, I am determined to endure for you. You want to continue your studies,
don’t you?” Trezzir asked him.

“I do… I… Don’t want to go back to Oryndoll.” Welvyr confided in the illithid in a hushed
whisper. He felt like he was saying something heinous.

“Nor do I…” Trezzir confessed. Welvyr’s eyes widened. “I can sense your genuine love for
magic. I sense the joy it brings you to intellectually challenge yourself. I can’t bring myself to
extinguish it again. I want to share your joy…” He said. Welvyr’s eyes began to well up with
tears and he quietly began crying. “Welvyr??” He couldn’t figure out why he was crying.

“You’ve caused me so much joy with just your words, I don’t know how to contain it in my
heart. It’s overflowing…” Welvyr sniffled and frantically wiped his tears with the sleeve of
his robe.

“Come on, don’t get tears on our parchment…” Trezzir gave him a gentle headpat with a
tentacle. Welvyr smiled, his cheeks red over the fact that he had cried.

“Right… No more distractions. Your room won’t clean itself.” Welvyr said. He quietly read a
book beside his lover.

Over the course of two hours of study, one of Trezzir’s tentacles had absentmindedly
wrapped itself around Welvyr’s wrist as he read. These emotions felt like a spell all its own
and neither of them wanted to break it…
 Smoke in the Dark
Chapter Summary

Brilanna gets to have some alone time with a vilgileator down on his luck. Lesk is a
morally ambiguous illithid tarnished by his past.

His name was Lesk. Lesk was a vigileator. Specifically, he was the one in charge of
surveilling The Skull Cup. Lesk was an illithid with lousy luck. One day he was staging raids
and going on patrols with his buddies and the next he was demoted to watching some
restaurant. That’s the way the skull crumbles sometimes. Only low ranking vigileators ended
up in this job, and boy had he been feeling low for the past three years. There was always one
thing that picked him up. Always someone, to be exact. To Lesk, Brilanna was a mood
swinging sweetheart. A real affectionate spitfire.

He knew any thought about touching her was wrong. She was a thrall. She belongs to
someone else. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s thrall. It was a commandment often
repeated by the Venerators. Lesk knew he was a miscreant mind flayer and he kept it all to
himself. He was an illithid of many vices. He smoked. He had more than a couple of drinks at
The Spinal Tap from time to time. It was all to take the edge off, he told himself. He stopped
short of resorting to The Breeding Pen. He knew none of the dames there could fix him. They
would just complicate him.

All he could think about was those pink eyes which were always hiding something. What
kind of story would they tell if he could get her to sing like a canary upon a bed of moss?
That flawless dark gray skin, and the way she always put on make-up to try and get a
compliment out of someone tugged at his psyche. No matter how his tentacles writhed near
her when gathering the latest gossip, Lesk never once touched her. He had a lot of restraint
with her. He recently found out that Srebral was possibly having some explicit recreation
with his new thrall, Maybelle. He didn’t want to restrain himself anymore.

Maybelle was what Lesk would call “All Sugar”. She was as sweet as could be. A bit too
sweet for Lesk. He figured any illithid trying to eat her would spit her back out from how
bubbly and happy she was. It’s why she was perfect for Srebral. He had gotten the tip about
Srebral’s activities from his thrall agent Balrak Wildminder. One would think a duergar
would make a bad agent since they tended to mind their own business, but that was precisely
what made the thrall so unsuspecting. All he had to go on was suspicion.
The thing is, he couldn’t get Brilanna to spill the beans to him. It was as if Srebral was
intentionally hiding something, because that wasn’t like her. She would readily tell Lesk
anything that he wanted to know. None of them would open up. Wesmi seemed hostile to
questioning. It was like they had a good thing going and she thought he was going to screw it
all up. Srebral knew he was poking around, which is why he started taking Maybelle home
whenever she wanted to go with him.

Brilanna never asked Maybelle these kinds of questions, but Lesk recently caught her
thinking curious thoughts about what illithid tentacles might have felt like on her skin. That
was the catalyst that broke his resolve. He couldn’t stop thinking about showing her what it
felt like, but she belonged to another illithid. Lesk, however, had always been a risk taker.
They were always calculated, but he learned from his demotion that he was very capable of
miscalculating them.

After three years of restraint, he began thinking about how he would get that hit of dopamine.
He couldn’t do it secretly behind Srebral’s back. The scandal would rock his world so hard,
he would never work in this city again. He didn’t have the mindgates to buy her. Srebral was
so short staffed anyway, he couldn’t afford to sell her. Lesk settled on the riskiest, most
straightforward plan he could think of. He would just ask Srebral.

It took him a full 24 hours to work up the nerve. He lit his pipe as he dropped Balrak off for
the night shift. “Hey, put that out! This is a non-smoking establishment. It's irritating to my
thralls.” Srebral said. Maybelle began to cough and sneezed when she caught a whiff of that
warm, spicy scent of surface imported tobacco. Maybelle was allergic to it. His thralls often
complained to Srebral in private about it, but because Maybelle had an adverse reaction, it
finally moved him to enforce a policy.

“And I have to clean that crap off the walls when it sticks to everything. Seriously, that stuff
kind of stinks…” Brilanna rolled her eyes. The drow went back to her room to change. She
wasn't crazy about it, but she associated the scent with him. There was an odd warmth and
comfort in it when it settled on the nose.

“Sorry…” Lesk put out his pipe, having only managed to take a single drag of it. The heady
smoke drifted about the cavernous tavern area.

“Hey Srebral, can we have a little chat in your office? Got a question for you.” Lesk
requested. What could the vigileator possibly want? It made him a little nervous, but Srebral
brought him into his office anyway.

“I'll just come right out and say this, and I mean no disrespect, but can I borrow Brilanna for
a bit of a roll in the moss?” Lesk asked. Srebral just looked at him, his tentacles becoming
completely still. He blinked several times.

“What!? Lesk, I run an inn, not a brothel! If this is your idea of a joke, it's not funny!”
Srebral told Lesk.

“And what about you and Maybelle? Is that a joke?” Lesk inquired. “It doesn't take a mind
flayer's intellect to put two and two together.” He said. Srebral was growing frustrated,
unable to figure him out. It seemed like blackmail.

“I know you've been poking around so if you're threatening me, you should know I'm not
stable. I will bring you down with me.” Srebral wouldn't be pushed around. He didn't care. Or
perhaps he was bluffing.

The old Srebral would have brought everything crashing down, but it wasn’t hard for Lesk to
notice that his employees, even Brilanna, seemed a bit happier since Maybelle got here. It
wasn’t hard to see that Srebral had been yelling at them far less. “I think you misunderstood
me. I’m not threatening you. I was merely observing that we might have some similar
interests. I’m willing to compensate you.”

He received more confusion from Srebral, who was trying to process what the hell was
happening. Srebral didn’t blame Maybelle for any of this, however, if he had a mindgate for
every time another illithid wanted to have sexual encounters with his thralls indirectly
because of Maybelle, he’d have two mindgates. It wouldn’t be a lot but it was weird that it
has now happened twice. “I think I get it. Mirror neurons are playing a role in this decision…
I’m doing this now you want to too. We really do live in a fuckin’ hive mind, don’t we?”
Srebral shook his head.

Lesk rubbed the back of his head. “Not entirely true. I knew for at least a couple of years that
I thought about her that way, but it’s not right to desire another illithid’s thrall. I just thought
you’d understand.” He answered. Srebral did feel the vaguest sense of empathy for Lesk.
They were both illithids stuck in dead end jobs with emotional problems stemming from a
lack of something in their lives.

“I don't want any compensation, monetary or otherwise. I'm not A Dumbass Named
Slisskbax.” Srebral said.
His derogatory nickname for the Nourisher creed-master was hilarious to Lesk. “Ultimately,
it's up to Brilanna. Let's ask her. I'll let you use the last room at the end of the hall upstairs.
It's pretty discreet.” Srebral offered. He realized he might not have done right by Brilanna all
the time, but he tried with how little he actually knew about stuff like this. Srebral knew she
once had a crush on him, but he didn't feel the same way. Brilanna came to terms with it. She
knew he loved Maybelle.

Srebral called Brilanna into his office. “Well… There's no easy way to say this so I'll be blunt.
Do you want to have sex with Lesk?“ He was indeed very blunt.

“Huh!? What!? I- You-! You're fucking with me! This is a cruel prank!” Her face turned red.
Lesk was equally floored.

“When have I ever played a prank on you?” Srebral asked.

“Well it's never too late to start!” She retorted.

“Good God-Brain! I wouldn't have said it like that!” Lesk scolded. “Brilanna, no, we're not
playing a prank on you… It's entirely your choice. I don't want you to think you have to do
this but I'll be upstairs and you can choose to join me, or you can go back to whatever you
were doing. I don't want to complicate your life or hurt you. If you stay down here, I'll never
bother you again.” Lesk propositioned her in a far more sensitive way. Brilanna didn’t even
know what to say. How was she even supposed to answer? Srebral tossed the keys to Lesk.
The room he had given him was the only locking room in the inn. Lesk quietly left the room
and went upstairs.

Brilanna had her hand over her mouth in disbelief. Her stomach was in knots. “Master, what
the fuck do I do…?” She whispered to Srebral. Srebral shrugged.

“That’s your call.” He told her.

“Why are you alright with this?? Do I mean that little to you?! I know I had my chance with
you and I blew it, but this…” Brilanna’s cheeks were flushed. She couldn’t finish her
thought.

“Brilanna, I never felt that way about you.” Srebral said. She never had a shot with him in
the slightest. “I like you. That’s why your brain’s still in your skull. Honestly, I found your
attempts at getting my attention to be embarrassing. Have some self respect…” He knew he
was being a little bit mean to her. He didn’t feel like letting her down gently. Truthfully her
flat chest was visually unappealing to him too, but he wasn’t cruel enough to tell her that.
“I’ll show you self respect!” She huffed. She was completely embarrassed that she was never
even on his mind. “Am I dismissed?” She growled.

“If he does anything to hurt you, I want you to tell me.” Srebral told her. Just because he
didn’t love her, it didn’t mean he wanted her hurt or that he didn’t care at all. Brilanna’s face
softened slightly.

“I understand…” She muttered.

“Then you’re dismissed.” He allowed her to leave.

She stepped out of his office and into the tavern. She looked at the staircase, then back at the
caverns that lead to her room. She slowly made her way upstairs. She wasn’t sure why.
Maybe she was curious. Maybe she wanted to see what Maybelle liked so much about it. She
slowly opened the door. She entered when she saw him sitting in a chair. He looked at her.
“Go ahead and lock the door.” He instructed. She followed through with it.

“Why me?” She quietly asked.

“You’re beautiful. I like your moxie.” He answered.

“In spite of this flat chest…?” She covered her face a bit.

“You look classy and elegant. I think you look like a doll.” Lesk told her. He rose from his
seat. “I want to make you feel special, and it makes me happy you picked me for that.” He
said. Her guard was slowly starting to lower. “Anytime you want to stop, just tell me.”

When she had Srebral in her thoughts, linking to her senses, it felt strange. She wanted her
first time to be alone with her partner. Just like this. She approached him and silently took off
her clothes in front of him. "D-don’t just stand there and stare at me like that!” She pouted.
His hands gently caressed her face. She closed her eyes and gasped as clawed fingers softly
stroked her pointed ears.

She relaxed in his grip as his tentacles joined in caressing her, teasing her nipples and trailing
over her waist. She was so self conscious about her chest. His touch was somewhat
embarrassing to her. She was so flat. So ugly… How could anyone find her pretty? “Hey!
None of that!” Lesk cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I don’t want to hear any
self loathing.” He firmly told her. “I think every last little bit of you is beautiful.”

“D-don’t say such weird things…” She whimpered.

“You’re not used to it… That’s alright. It won’t sound so strange if you hear it more often.”
Lesk told her. He took off his robes and brought her into bed with him. He laid her down
comfortably on the bed. “Get comfortable…” He told her. She spread her legs for him. “Very
good…” He praised. “Now stay as still as you can for me.” He commanded. It was an
irresistible instruction. She stayed perfectly still for him. A mix of nervousness and
excitement swirled in her mind.

He brought himself between her legs and leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. “This
feels strange…” Brilanna whispered.

“In a good way?” Lesk asked. She hummed softly and nodded. She softly kissed his cheek.

“I-is it alright to kiss you?” She asked. Did illithids like being kissed? Did she do something
weird?

“It’s more than alright…” He assured her. One of his hands wanders to her wet pussy,
rubbing against it.

“Be careful there! N-no one’s ever...!” Her eyes widened. She remained perfectly still for him
regardless.

“I’ll be careful. You’re being so brave and good for me.” Lesk praised her. Her stomach was
in knots and all he did was touch her. He pulled away, giving her mind a moment to rest.
“You’re alright. Take a deep breath. Breathe…” He encouraged her to calm down. Her chest
heaved as she took a deep breath. She pulled him into a passionate kiss to take her mind off
her shyness.

He took the distraction as an opportunity and began rubbing her clitoris. She started to
whimper from his touch, and let out a moan. Lesk purred from her sensations, which he
found to be intense. “Good girl… That’s a good girl.” He whispered in her mind. She
thought it was starting to feel good. She didn’t have to say it for him to know. The stubborn
spitfire of a drow found it hard to admit she was enjoying it, but she couldn’t deceive him.

He rubbed a tentacle against her smooth and soaked vulva. She trembled as he slowly started
to ease himself inside of her. She let out a shaky little moan. Lesk pulled back at the first sign
of discomfort. He continued rubbing her clit as he carefully attempted to break her in for his
tentacles. “Lesk…! I-I’m a virgin!” She gasped. “I was always told to give that to someone
worthy…” Words from her mother that were never erased from her mind even after
enthrallment.
“ Hrrnnh… Am I worthy?” Lesk asked, shivering a bit from her sensations.

“Yes!” She gasped. “Y-yes! Take it!” She groaned. She’d known Lesk for three years. She’d
honestly thought about him before but she always quashed such thoughts from her mind. He
wasn’t her master. Nobody wanted her. She was the cheapest thrall ever sold at the auction.
After she was found to be 10 pounds underweight for ceremorphosis, no illithid found her
appealing enough until Srebral picked her up for the low cost of 2 mindgates. She owed
Srebral her life, but she owed Lesk for making her feel worth something.

She let out a louder moan as Lesk filled her. The finality of it all struck her. She knew he
could feel what he was doing to her, but she only just now began to really realize it. He was
pulling her out of her own head. She lost her virginity to an illithid. One that wasn’t her
master. “I-it’s starting to feel… Good!” She struggled to find her words as he began plunging
into her while using another tentacle to rub her clitoris.

“I’m glad, sweetheart. Just relax…” Lesk worked to draw out her emotions. All she had to
do was be receptive to it. She gave in, holding still as he told her to. When he called her
sweetheart, her resting bitch face turned into a small smile. He’d called her that before, and
she had always ignored it. That was just how he talked to any lady, but now it felt different
somehow. Now it felt personal, and affectionate. Like it was addressed just for her. Lesk
gently pressed his mouth against her shoulder, her neck, and her chest. It was as if he was
doing his best to kiss her. He was extremely careful not to leave any teeth marks or cuts. He
was so gentle, he didn’t leave a single scratch. She moaned from the wet pin prick sensation
against her skin.

Lesk didn’t even think about the implication of marking another illithid’s thrall. She wasn’t
one of those dames or young studs at The Breeding Pen. He knew it was taboo, but God-
Brain damn him, it felt amazing! He knew he was taking away her innocence, ripping out
everything attached with it. Her secret self-loathing, her anger, her hurt. She felt him actively
renovating the space in her mind, replacing everything he took out with a bit of serotonin,
self-worth, and self-love.

She was bound with nothing but his words, enchanted by his voice in her head and she
submitted to all of it. She trembled, getting lost in the sounds of his restrained purring. She
found it rather cute that he was trying so hard to be quiet. The sounds she was causing him to
make, combined with the squelching sounds of his tentacles on her pussy sent her mind
deeper into lust. There was little audible warning that she would cum, but Lesk could feel the
build up in her mind and body. The quieter she got, the closer they were. He eagerly
continued, wanting to bring her to her limit and beyond.
One of his tentacles tightly wrapped around her wrist, writhing into the palm of her hand. She
wrapped her fingers around it gently. It was the wrist with Srebral’s brand of ownership. It
was a reminder he was using another illithid's thrall, but it didn't pull him out of this feeling.
He was grateful to Srebral for letting him feel this. This fair and moderate inn had become
excellent. This experience was more exhilarating than he remembered.

They got what they wanted. His tentacle pulled out of her. She squirted onto the sheets,
cumming with a loud grunt and a moan. She had no idea she could make noises like that.
Lesk made an undignified gurgle, not caring what he sounded like in that moment. Brilanna
whimpered and panted as she came down from her euphoric high. “Damn you! I have to
clean that up now! Apologize for making me work over time!” She scolded him. She thought
about pawning the extra work off on Maybelle but Srebral didn't like it when she did that.

“I don't think you really mind. Besides, almost no one ever uses this room. Srebral only rents
it out to important guests.” He said, his tentacles curling. The famous Volo once stayed in
this room before Srebral owned it. Brilanna sighed.

“I'll just change the sheets and wash the dirty ones tomorrow…”

“You keep the spares in the wardrobe, right? Don't worry about it. I've got it.” Lesk offered.
It was the least he could do.

“Mind if I smoke?” He asked.

“It stinks, but go ahead. It’s on you if my master yells at you.” She said. She watched him
light the pipe as she got dressed. “You know that's bad for you, right?” She pointed out.

“Turns out ceremorphosis doesn't cure nicotine cravings, sweetheart.” Lesk said. He was
well aware. “Can we do this again sometime?” He asked.

She was silent for a moment, before he saw a smile on her face. “I'd like that…” She
admitted quietly. She straightened out her shoulder length white hair which had become
rather disheveled. She looked at him as she reached for the doorknob. “Lesk…?” She got his
attention. He looked at her. “Thank you…”

“I should be saying the same to you. Thanks a lot. I needed that.” Lesk said. She quickly
ducked out of the room. She had to wash off this illithid slime. He smelled faintly of garlic
and tobacco smoke. He smoked so often, the scent of the smoke had clung to him. Now it
was marked upon her skin. He’d done it. He’d crossed the line between accepted behavior
and behavior most of the population would consider an exiling offense. He felt as real as any
of the mind flayers in the elder concord. It was dirty and nasty but he wanted more.
“Ugh… He smells like a spice bazaar next to a kitchen…” Brilanna thought to herself with a
pout. She realized the others would smell it too! She blushed upon this realization. She had to
wash this off now. She made a beeline for the communal washing room. She ran into
Maybelle who was singing a melody to make her voice echo in the cavern.

“Oh! Hi Brilanna!” She was washing herself. Brilanna took a deep breath. It was just
Maybelle. She was totally harmless. Maybelle wouldn’t bully her, right?

Brilanna disrobed and got her own washing basin, rag, and soap. She sat across from
Maybelle. “You smell strange…” Maybelle said after Brilanna started washing herself.

“What?! No I don’t!” Brilanna denied. “You always smell way weirder than I do, onion
girl!”

“Onion girl…?” Maybelle blinked at that nickname. “How do I resemble an onion?” She
asked.

“You smell like them all the time because of Srebral!” Brilanna said.

“I think it smells good. It’s like home cooking… It reminds me of the kitchen we had in the
menagerie. It wasn’t much but Aunt Edith was almost always cooking onions. She would
save up little rations of sugar all year long and make sweet sporebread for us when we were
kids. I mean she wasn’t really my aunt by blood, but more like a communal aunt?” Maybelle
shared her little story.

“So it’s nostalgic for you… My favorite smell is old books. I remember I had access to a
library when I was a child… I liked to read history books.” Brilanna said.

“Oh wow. That’s amazing. I’m still learning how to read!” Maybelle sounded genuinely
impressed. Suddenly Maybelle sneezed. “Achoo! Hey! Wait a minute, I know that smell!
That’s Le-! Mmph!” She realized as Brilanna covered her mouth!

“Not so loud! I don’t want everyone to know!” Brilanna hissed.

“Why?” She asked.

“Because Shelura and Wesmi might make fun of meee…” Brilanna whined.

“They’ve been nice to me so far… I don’t think they’re the type to do something like that, are
they?” Maybelle said.
“I just don’t want to explain myself to them cause they’ll ask a bazillion questions!” Brilanna
pouted.

“I don’t have a bajliion questions, but I guess I got a few…” Maybelle said.

“Ugh! You get three questions and no more!” Brilanna put her foot down. Maybelle took
several minutes to carefully think about her questions, giving some peace and quiet to
Brilanna.

“Are you going to do it again?” She asked. The first question floored Brilanna.

“I don’t know… Maybe? If he wants too…” Brilanna replied.

“Hmm… I see… Does Master know?” Maybelle asked.

“Yes… You won’t believe this, but the mad flayer actually asked our Master for
permission…” Brilanna whispered. Maybelle gasped.

“No way…” She whispered. “And you did it?? Oops. That was number 3…”

“Yes. We did it…” Brilanna nodded and blushed. “I can see why you like it so much now
hehe…”

“Master makes me go into the back when he’s around… I wonder what that’s all about. It’s
kind of weird, isn’t it?” Maybelle observes. Brilanna knew precisely why her master was
doing that. He wanted to protect himself from any illithid being subjected to her thoughts. He
figured Lesk would not be prepared for the thoughts he found in that head of hers.

“It’s because he always smells like that damn pipe.” Brilanna lied.

“I don’t think that’s it…” Maybelle couldn’t believe that.

“Alright, he’d heard rumors about you and our master. Lesk was poking around so he thought
he was protecting you. Turns out that Srebral inspired him instead…” Brilanna rolled her
eyes.

“Oh, I see…” Maybelle nodded. She thought nothing of it. She allowed Brilanna to finish the
rest of her bathing in peace and quiet.

“So… How would you feel about a double playdate sometime?” Maybelle asked.

“Double… Playdate…?” Brilanna blinked in confusion.

“You know… Me, Srebral, Lesk and you.” Maybelle smirked. Brilanna poured the bucket
over her head, rinsing herself completely.

“Ugh! How crass!” She started drying herself off, facing away from Maybelle.

“Uh… Did I say something bad?” Maybelle pouted. Brilanna was tugging on her clothes.

“No! I’ll think about it, alright?” Brilanna was blushing.

“Alright, no pressure! See you tomorrow!” Maybelle smiled.

“See you tomorrow, Maybelle…” Brilanna concealed a smile as she went to her room to
sleep for the night, smelling fresh and clean. Srebral knocked on the bathing room door after
stealthily watching Brilanna return to her room. It was a place he never ever entered without
permission.

"It's just me, Srebral. You can come in." Maybelle affirmed.

"Is she alright?" Srebral asked Maybelle. She nodded.

"I'd say she's even better than alright..." Maybelle said with a smirk.

"Oh boy..." Srebral thought to himself, in an amused tone.

 Erotic Dominance Tournament: Semifinals
Chapter Summary

Vizaness faces off against Selessk, one of the Nourisher Creed's two creed-masters in
the semifinals!

Today was the semifinals of the high tier Erotic Dominance Tournament! Vizaness would be
going up against one of the creed-masters. She was going up against Selessk. If she lost, her
tournament would end here, but she has already proven herself a capable opponent. Oceana
was nervous for this one, since Selessk and her thrall were intimidating to her. She couldn’t
imagine going against Shogala. Good thing Kalamash was dealing with her instead of her.

Assuming that A Breeder Named Slisskbax wins his match, if she won, she’d be going
against the very creed-master that ceremorphed her. Her own boss. Vizaness wasn’t nervous
about him retaliating on the off chance that she did win. He didn’t lose all that often, but she
knew he wasn’t a sore loser. He was actually a surprisingly good sport. Although A Breeder
Named Slisskbax’s opponent, Cusril, mostly bred duergar but his champion in these
tournaments was actually a human woman named Hera. The Creed-Master selected Angel.
To spice things up, the two of them decided on oil wrestling.

Meanwhile in Vizaness and Selessk’s arena, the spectators were getting seated. Vebeva was
sure to show up. She couldn’t miss out on this! She ended up sitting close to Zusrall, with
their thralls between them. “Are you taking bets?” Vebeva asked Zusrall.

“No. I’m not a gambling mind flayer.” Zusrall answered.

“I’ve put 9 mindgates on Vizaness.” Vebeva revealed.

“What makes you so sure she’ll win?” Zusrall asked her.

“She won’t lose because she’s submissive.” Vebeva said. Zusrall sputtered and choked on his
cerebrospinal fluid, before getting out a short laugh. Vebeva’s tentacles curled in satisfaction
at her own joke. He had no comment for that.

She knew Vizaness immensely enjoyed servicing Whim that one time, but Whim didn’t seem
all that keen on dominating another mind flayer, only doing it to appease his mistress. He
didn’t hate it, it was just something he wouldn’t go out of his way to do. He really only felt
comfortable dominating Natiri. Recently, Whim was exploring a bigger taste of his mistress’
domination. Maybe she’d get some inspiration after watching this match…

Quastor Dazinok seated himself behind Zusrall. “We saw your thrall with Urbussk’s last
round. Good show!” The quastor winked.

“Hopefully they behave themselves this round.” Zusrall’s tentacles curled as he stared at you.
Their thrall gave a shy smile and blushed.

“Not to encourage them, but their shenanigans are fun to watch.” Dazinok told him.

“This is their first time spectating a tournament.” Zusrall said.

“Nice excuse. I think they’re just a glutton for punishment.” The quastor teased.

“We’ll have to see how well they behave today.” Zusrall said. Their thrall’s cheeks turned
pink, wondering how he’d punish them this time. They would try to behave this time with
emphasis on trying.

The competitors finally entered the arena. Selessk and Vizaness took their positions. “Well,
you’ve made it this far. Not bad for a mid rank duelist, but I’ve got a date with Slissy, and
you’re in my way. Say goodbye to your winning streak.” Selessk told Vizaness confidently.

“Good luck with that. You’ll have to beat me first.” Vizaness said calmly.

“You ready to lose, Golden Boy?” Shogala, his hobgoblin opponent, taunted. Kalamash
smiled at her bullying.

“No. I promised to do my best.” He replied honestly. Vizaness found his reply to their
challenger to be cute and endearing.

“You better hope his best is good enough.” Selessk taunted.

Shogala the Grand approached her opponent from the side. She wrapped her left arm around
his waist and caressed his face with her right hand. “I have to say, you’re very pretty.”
Shogala complimented him.

“Thank you, Shogala.” Kalamash blushed. She traced a finger over his lips. Her touch was
surprisingly gentle.

Oceana leaned over, whispering to Vebeva. “Selessk’s strategy is the ‘Separation Strategy.’.
She pulls the thrall away from the ‘rider’ through various distraction tactics…” She explains.
“That’s nice. I kind of don’t care though.” Vebeva said bluntly.

“Sorry…” Oceana whispered.

Shogala reached down and began working him up with her hand, stroking his cock. “Let me
see what I’m working with, big boy.” Shogala jeered. Kalamash relaxed as his mistress took
control of his hand. He reached over and began groping her perky breasts.

“I have to make you feel good first. I don’t get to play until you’re ready for me…”
Kalamash remembered his training. Vizaness taught him that it was how he could help avoid
hurting someone by accident. Selessk had to concede that he was trained well.

“That’s right, Kalamash. Good boy!” Vizaness praised.

“You know what would make me feel good?” Shogala asked.

“What?” Kalamash asked naively. Shogala sweeped his legs out from under him. She pushed
him onto his back on the moss. She got on top of him and sat on his face.

“Start licking, Golden boy!” Shogala grinned. To the audience’s surprise, Vizaness’ hold on
her thrall didn’t waver. She made Kalamash grab her thighs and he started licking the
hobgoblin’s pussy eagerly.

Neither of her last two opponents could make her cum, but she’d given them powerful
orgasms. She was working hard for the grand finale. Win or lose, she always had a lot of fun
with Angel. The way she saw it, the more pent up she was, the more energy she’d have to
take out on the aasimar. To her surprise, the half-orc was doing a decent job. She’d boxed
herself into a trap! He was holding her in place. Shogala moaned softly, squirming against
him.

“Hands at your sides!” Shogala ordered. Kalamash had mentally checked out of everything,
taking everything as it came. He felt his hands move away from Shogala’s thighs. Vizaness
made Kalamash obey their domineering opponent of her own will well before Kalamash
could even try to respond. She turned over onto her stomach while remaining straddled over
Kalamash. Shogala began jerking his girthy cock off. “You’re definitely way bigger than my
first opponent…” She casually mentioned. “Do we want to have a little fun with him,
Mistress?” The champion asked Selessk.

Although Selessk never personally touched Shogala, the two of them enjoyed sharing big and
strong male thralls together. They especially loved dominating these men and rewarding their
best warrior thralls. Selessk one day planned to breed Shogala with a worthy thrall. She’d had
her eye on Valdran for a while but she wanted to see how his mistress performed over the
years at her job. He did look rather appealing…

“I don’t know about fun, but we can see how he lasts.” Selessk allowed her thrall to mount
him in a reverse cowgirl position. Shogala guided Kalamash’s cock inside of her and began to
ride him.

“Woah…” Zusrall’s thrall was watching intently before smiling mischievously. “Hey,
Master…” They whisper to him. They tell him their thoughts privately when they had
Zusrall’s attention.

“Reminds me of the time we beat Vizaness in our little dominance game. A shame she’s in the
high tier now. I kind of looked forward to beating her…” They told him.

Zusrall was amused by that. “Are you complaining about having to work hard?” He asked.

“No, master! It’s just a chance to aim even higher!” They said.

“Very good…” Zusrall praised. Selessk moaned with her thrall as she shared those
sensations. Perhaps she was starting to enjoy Kalamash a little too much and she made
Shogala slide off of his cock. She was playing a dangerous game with her thrall.

“Mistress! Can we have just a little bit more??” Shogala mentally pleaded.

“No! We have to focus!” Selessk scolded her thrall. That little disagreement would cost
Selessk. Vizaness took advantage and worked with Kalamash to get from under Shogala and
pin her down on her stomach. Shogala struggled, trying to bring her knees up and bend over.

Selessk felt the exertion of her thrall. She found the situation incredibly arousing. It was
honestly exciting for them to put up a fight. Shogala managed to bend over for him with the
assistance of her mistress’ control. “You’re not hurting, right?” Kalamash asked to make sure.
His mistress was making him be a bit rougher than normal, so he had to check.

“You think I can’t take it!?” Shogala growled.

“I don’t know. Can you?” Kalamash rubbed his hard shaft against her soaked entrance. He
wasn’t trying to be a smart mouth at all. His question came from a place of genuine curiosity.
He slowly shoved himself inside of her and started to thrust at a steadily increasing pace.

“D-does it feel good?” He asked her. Selessk couldn’t hold back her moans and purrs. Her
thrall was getting dicked down despite her best efforts to keep her on top.

“Yes!” Shogala grunted.

Natiri was starting to get aroused watching Kalamash dominate the champion. “Gods, I
would love for him to do that to me again…” She sighed wistfully. Her tail wagged with
excitement at the display and accidentally smacked Whim. Whim grabbed her tail with an
annoyed pout on his face. “Sorry…” She blushed. “M-mistress, I’m really wet watching
this… Can I please touch myself?” She quietly asked.

“Should we make her earn her playtime?” Whim smirked.

“An excellent idea.” Vebeva pulled down her favorite thrall’s pants. “Please Whim. If you do
a good job, I’ll let you cum.” She commanded. Natiri bent over in her seat, and started
sucking his cock without hesitation. Zusrall’s thrall looked over to see Natiri wasn’t wearing
underwear. Her tail had lifted her dress to expose her bare pussy to them.

“Uhm… Am I allowed to touch the other thralls if I can’t touch myself?” Zusrall’s thrall
asked.

“Vebeva, your thralls are being a bad influence on mine.” Zusrall said.

“I gave them permission to be. Hardly my fault your thrall is so distractible.” Vebeva wasn’t
remorseful.

“If you touch her without her permission, you’re getting punished. And not in the fun way.“
Zusrall said. They gulped at that threat.

“Do you want some help there, Natiri?” Zusrall’s thrall asked. Natiri whimpered a “please”,
shaking her ass temptingly. They pushed their fingers into her pussy and began fingering her
as they looked back at the arena. Natiri made soft muffled moans as she stuffed Whim’s cock
into her mouth.

“He’s a formidable foe, Mistress!” Shogala groaned, panting as he roughly pounded her
pussy.

“Don’t you dare give in, Shogala!” Selessk commanded.

“Don’t worry! I can take it!” Shogala didn’t seem worried.

“You know what to do! Show him what we can do!” At that, Shogala tensed her abdominal
muscles, tightening the walls of her pussy around his cock. Vizaness whimpered and made
Kalamash stop what he was doing. “Oh please. I know you don’t have the self restraint to
pull out.” Selessk told Vizaness. Shogala began backing up against his cock, tightening her
muscles in short bursts. Kalamash squeezed his eyes shut.
He wanted to cum so badly, but his mistress didn’t say he could. He groaned, trying so hard
to hold it in. Vizaness made Kalamash grab her hips and he filled her with his seed. “Oh
fuck…” Shogala moaned. “I felt him cumming inside…” She blushed. That was incredibly
arousing to her.

“I refuse to lose…! I still believe in my thrall!” Vizaness was panting. Kalamash’s cock was
twitching. His mind was blank. He wanted more! He wouldn’t stop until this match was over,
regardless of its conclusion. Kalamash shoved Shogala into the mattress and pounded her
roughly. Selessk and Shogala both let out shaky moans as Kalamash had his way with her.

“D-damn! Dammit dammit!” Selessk cried out in a gooey voice. “Curiosity got the better of
meeee!” The creed-master couldn’t throw in the towel yet. Her eyes rolled back and she
shivered pleasurably while her thrall was being drilled senselessly. Only Angel had ever
managed to top her in these tournaments. Shogala had a lust filled grin as she moaned,
unwilling to do anything other than take it.

“Do it again! Fill me up again!” Shogala begged.

Vebeva noticed her thrall was being pleasured by Zusrall’s thrall. “Now I didn’t say your
thrall could touch mine…” To be fair, Zusrall only implied needing the thrall’s permission…

“My apologies. I will punish them for their insolence.” Zusrall pulled their hand away from
Natiri. Vebeva had a pretty good idea of what that punishment would look like.

“I want you to punish them in front of me. Come to my domicile after the match, peon.”
Vebeva’s tentacles writhed mischievously at her suggestion. The thrall blushed at her
declaration.

“Now look at the mess you got into.” Zusrall playfully scolded his thrall.

Selessk gripped the moss on the mattress tightly. She couldn’t do anything other than to try
and bear it. Most illithids would have had their resolve falter at having their thrall being
bullied. They often treated their thralls as an extension of themselves in these tournaments.
Vizaness and Kalamash took it in stride. She couldn’t understand how they were able to do it
so easily! She was beginning not to care either. “Fill me up! Breed me! Cum in me!” Shogala
was moaning all kinds of indecent things, begging for him to cum in her again. The champion
knew he wasn’t fertile right now, but she wanted Kalamash to father her offspring instead of
that insufferable womanizer Valdran.

Selessk was trembling, making strained noises and unable to shut her thrall up!
“Let’s give her what she wants!” Vizaness encouraged in a gooey voice. Shogala had never
cum from penetration alone, but Kalamash was hitting just the right spot as he ravaged her.
She climaxed hard. The spasming of her walls was enough to make him cum again.
Kalamash pushed his cock deep inside of her, squirting another thick load into her. Shogala
laid there, recovering from the merciless pounding she just took with a smile on her face.

“That was fun…” Kalamash panted. He flopped onto the moss, laying back. Neither
competitor were in their thrall’s heads anymore. The judges were rapidly debating among
themselves about who won. The suspense was actually palpable to Vebeva!

“Come on… Come on…” Oceana hoped with bated breath that her mistress won.

“What do you mean the judges don’t know who won yet? Stop wasting my time and make a
decision already!” Selessk sat up, glaring at the judges.

“Via the judges’ votes, the winner is… Vizaness!” The announcer called.

“Yes!!” Oceana cheered.

“Whaaa…!?” Selessk was surprised. “Hmph…”

“It’s not whether you win or lose. It’s how you play the game. For that, it was a great duel.”
Vizaness said, sounding pleased. “Besides, there’s no rule saying you can’t settle the score in
your own time…” Vizaness pointed out.

“I’ll consider it… You better beat Slisskbax for me next round. I won’t tolerate losing to a
loser.” Selessk dramatically glided on her way with her thrall, her dark and airy cloak
billowing behind her.

Vebeva’s tentacles curled in amusement.

“You almost make this seem like a legitimate sport, Vizaness. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to
watch the finals… I can already tell you that A Breeder Named Slisskbax has won.” Vebeva
told her. She got her aroused thralls to stop what they were doing. They would finish their fun
at home, with an extra guest to boot.

Kalamash picked up his mistress and hugged her. “We did it! We won!” He had a big smile
on his face. Vizaness giggled at his enthusiasm.

“Yes we did. I’m so proud of you!” She nuzzled against him lovingly. “We made it to the
finals!” She knew that Angel, her creed-master’s thrall, did intimidate Kalamash so she
needed to spend the next day mentally preparing him to the best of her ability. She promised
to do her best for him to see him through anything this tournament.

“I’m heading home for a little after party. See you next round, squire.” Vebeva bid Vizaness
farewell. Zusrall would be taking her up on her invitation.

“Your skills have carried you this far. Only one more to go.” Zusrall complimented her. “As
for us, my thrall has been very naughty again…”

“The thralls from my stock aren’t naughty! They simply have higher libidos! How else would
they breed so effortlessly?” Vizaness argued.

“If you say so…” Zusrall’s tentacles curled as he tugged his thrall along.

In the main lounge, the bracket was updated already. “The final match will take place
between Vizaness and Slisskbax!” They announced.

“No, that’s ‘A Breeder named Slisskbax.’” The creed-master corrected them.

“That’s what I said- Slisskbax!” The announcer said.

“No, no! It’s A Breeder Named Slisskbax! You say the whole thing!” He said.

“Can we call you Slisskbax for short?” The announcer asked, eliciting some giggles from a
few thralls.

“No, flayer! I’m A Breeder Named Slisskbax! Get off the damn podium! That’s a demotion
right there!” A Breeder Named Slisskbax shooed the announcer away.

“Vizaness, get up here.” The creed-master commanded. He was holding a finely polished
Zurkhwood box in his tentacles. Vizaness blinked, unsure what he wanted but approached
him regardless. “Since you’re facing me in the finals, I want your thrall to look proper.” He
removed the lid of the box, revealing its red velvet lining and a platinum collar for Kalamash
inside. Her eyes widened at the idea that Kalamash would be a platinum thrall. He was no
longer her Golden Boy… She’d have to come up with a new club. Platinum Pals? It seemed a
bit silly but it was cute. It’s not as if Kalamash even knew what the word “paragon” meant.

“Thank you, sir…” Vizaness humbly accepted it and she would put it on her thrall the instant
she could.

“Selessk might be content with losing to a gold thrall, but in my arena, only the most
prestigious are allowed.” A Breeder Named Slisskbax had a pride that wouldn’t allow for
anything less.

“You’re on! It’ll be an honor to face you.” Vizaness said with high spirited humility.

“Let’s see if you can bring that moxie to the match.” A Breeder Named Slisskbax said.

The sight of the platinum collar was sort of bittersweet to her. This was all happening so fast,
but she promised Kalamash that she’d do her best, no matter where their best took them…
 Semifinals Afterparty at Vebeva's
Chapter Summary

(You) get punished for getting handsy with Vebeva's tiefling thrall, Natiri, in the
audience during the semifinals of the Erotic Dominance Tournament. You are brought to
her domicile so she may witness your punishment, but she ends up ignoring you to have
sex with Whim instead.

You’ve done it now. You got your master in trouble with a noble. You kept your eyes on the
ground as you got to Vebeva’s domicile. You’d never seen the inside of an ulitharid’s
domicile before. This place was huge compared to your home! “You know you’re not actually
in trouble, right?” Vebeva clarified. You felt silly but some lingering nervousness buzzed at
the forefront of your quieting mind. “Seriously, what is wrong with you?” She asked once she
brought you into the room her thralls slept in.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know.” You said.

“I’m pretty sure they were just born like that.” Zusrall spoke up. “However…” One of his
tentacles began tugging at your clothes to remove them. You blushed, cooperating with him
to remove your clothing. “I do notice that their recent punishments have somehow improved
their condition.”

“You know, I have noticed a significant improvement in Natiri’s behavior as well.” Vebeva
said. She lovingly squished Whim’s cheeks. “Such a good boy! Do you want to keep
playing?” She affectionately asked him.

“Yes, Mistress.” He smiled. Natiri pulled off her clothes eagerly, dropping them onto the
floor. Vebeva smacked her ass with a tentacle.

“You will not remove your clothing until I tell you to.” Vebeva scolded her.

“Y-yes, Mistress!” She yelped.

“Put them back on.” Vebeva commanded. Natiri sighed as she picked up her dress and put it
back on. “Whim. Show Natiri how to properly disrobe.” Vebeva told him.

“Yes, Mistress.” He gave a smug smile to Natiri and took off his clothes carefully, folding
each piece neatly and setting it aside. You and Zusrall watch this scene with interest.
“You’ve learned well since the start of your training courses.” Zusrall complimented her.

“I’m a Creative Creed member. Of course I’m going to come up with good ideas.” She
sounded smug. “Natiri. Remove your clothing like Whim did.” She instructed. As Natiri
neatly removed her dress and began folding it up, your master made you pick up your
clothes.

“Pick your robe up. Let’s not make a mess of Vebeva’s domicile.” He said. You yelped softly
as his hand lightly smacked your rear when you bent over to pick up your robe.

While Natiri was getting undressed, Whim was instructed to get some gear to make Zusrall’s
task of disciplining his thrall easier. He brought in striking implements, cuffs, and rope.
Vebeva then seated Whim onto his bed and embraced him from behind. “I think your thrall
can start making up for their bad behavior by showing us how sorry they are for getting
handsy with my property.” Vebeva said. “Be a good thrall and use your mouth instead.” She
said.

Zusrall brought you to your knees. Vebeva encouraged Natiri to take advantage. “Go on. I’ll
make sure you get punished too for working them up.” She said. Natiri approached you and
you began using your mouth to pleasure Natiri. You were taught quite in depth about the
secrets of giving good oral sex by your master. It didn’t take long for Natiri to start moaning
as you worked your tongue against her clitoris.

Vebeva was starting to purr, linking with her tiefling thrall’s senses. “You do have a fine
thrall, Zusrall…” Vebeva said, calling him by his name instead of ‘peon’ for once. She
absentmindedly began caressing Whim, who began getting worked up from just her touch.
Natiri was trembling in bliss, trying to continue standing. “What do we say, Natiri?” Vebeva
reminded her.

“Th-thank you! Thank you, sir for making me feel good with your thrall!” Natiri groaned.

“Oh, geeze, she might end up cumming!” Vebeva said. “Let me feel it.” She told Natiri.

“That’s a good thrall. Make her cum.” Zusrall encouraged you. He rubbed the top of your
head with one of his tentacles. Whim tenderly kissed one of his mistress’ tentacles. Vebeva
wrapped another one of her tentacles around the human butler’s hardening shaft. He sighed
softly, smiling as she touched him.

“Thank you, Mistress. I love you, Mistress.” He whispered. He blushed, realizing what he
just said. “A-am I allowed to say that in front of our guests?” Whim asked.
“Always…” Vebeva’s breaths were becoming shaky as her tentacle jerked Whim off. Her
pace was gradually quickening. You could hear the slick squishing noises of slimy tentacles
against flesh over Natiri’s whimpers. Her clear nectar was dripping down your chin as you
were determined to follow through on your master’s orders.

“Oh gods! Oh gods, I’m cumming!!” Natiri cried out. You kept going, eager to be an
obedient thrall. Natiri’s tail was wagging as the tiefling came, moaning loudly as she squirted
onto your face.

“Look at the mess you’re making in Vebeva’s home!” Zusrall teased you. “I think that
deserves a little more than a spanking…” He pulled you up to your feet. “Stay.” He tells you.
He needed to give Vebeva a moment to recover from Natiri’s orgasm. Whim hadn’t managed
to cum, but he was staying still and waiting very patiently for her. Zusrall looked over his
options and picked out a riding crop and white spider silk rope. Natiri was sitting on her bed,
watching to see what Zusrall did to you.

“Natiri, I’d like to use your bed to punish my naughty thrall. Would you like to help me tie
them up?” He asked her. Natiri never had anyone request that she help dominate someone
before. She was curious and nodded. “Yes, sir.” She accepted, stringing the rope through her
headboard so that Zusrall could secure your wrists to it. It reminded you of when your fellow
thralls tied you up. You were just a bunch of young teenagers and they left you behind. For
some reason you can’t remember, you let them do it on a dare.

You were able to escape pretty effortlessly back then, because they’d frankly done a weak job
at it. You don’t remember what happened to them after that. “Remember, you can use your
safe word at any time.” Zusrall reminded you as you were bent over, secured quite well to the
bed. Vebeva’s spreader bar was keeping your legs apart. There was no escaping from this.
Your master was far too competent at tying knots. Your mind was reaching out for him, eager
to take whatever he gave you.

“I’m such a naughty thrall, Master! Please punish me!” You begged in a husky voice.

“Oh, rest assured, I will. You’ve been acting quite filthy today.” Zusrall says. You started
embracing it. The old you would have panicked at being called naughty or getting
disciplined. You weren’t afraid of messing up anymore. You weren’t afraid of being rejected
anymore. Your master loved you. The conclusion of every punishment gave you immense
relief and the affirmation of your master’s love.
You shivered slightly as he trailed the leather tip of the riding crop over your skin. “That’s
why I tied your hands up. You just can’t seem to keep them to yourself today.” He said. You
moaned softly when you felt a slick tentacle between your legs.

“Please don’t be too hard on them, sir. It is my fault they got in trouble.” Natiri had a smug
grin. Vebeva had a tentacle in Whim’s mouth, making him suck on it. He diligently pleased
his mistress, letting her into his mind.

“It’s hardly their fault that they can’t resist my platinum thralls.” Vebeva joined in.

“I’m aware. They were begging to play with Natiri after we spotted you in The Breeding
Pen.” Zusrall teased you. He glanced at Natiri. He knew Vebeva was likely paying more
attention to Whim than to them.

“I’ll wipe that smug grin off your face next tenday.” Zusrall told Natiri.

“Please do.” She mentally replied and smiled. He was right that Vebeva was busying herself
with Whim. She lubricated the palm of his hand with her slimy tentacles.

“Let me feel you please yourself.” She commanded him. He obliged, stroking his cock
slowly to start.

You couldn’t see what was going on as the action was behind you. Your master levitated
around you, trailing the flogger across your skin. “Start counting, whore.” You gasp at the
sting of leather on your ass.

“One!” You whimpered. Another strike of the crop on your back. “Two!” Again on your
back. “Th-three!”

“Let’s try to count higher than ten today.” Zusrall challenged you.

“Yes, Master!” You agreed. Another crack of the crop on your thigh. “Four!” And once again
on your ass. “Oh yes! Five!” You moaned.

“Oh ho ho, maybe my thralls are a bad influence on yours after all!” Vebeva playfully
conceded.

“They have had a lot of exposure to Natiri.” Zusrall pointed out.

“And here’s your reward for being such a good boy.” Vebeva teased Whim. She began
tightening one of her tentacles around his neck. His jaw dropped and he began stroking his
cock faster.

“A-ah! Yes…! I’m your… Good Boy!” He whimpered. His mind started to empty as if her
tentacle were squeezing out every last emotion out of him. He loved it when she made his
head empty like this.

You found yourself starting to enjoy the riding crop after strikes six and seven, which you
dutifully counted. “Mmn… Mistress, watching this is making me want something inside
me… Can I please borrow Whim?” Natiri begged.

“No.” Vebeva replied bluntly as she pulled his hand away from his cock, edging him. His
face was completely red. “Not yet… Be patient. It’s improper for the butler to cum before our
guests.”

“I’ve never heard of any rule like that…” Zusrall said, quite certain she just made that up.

“It never hurts to be a good example.” Whim gave a smile, being in high spirits despite being
denied. You squirmed against your bonds and your efforts were rewarded with the reddening
of your ass from his hand.

“E-eight! Nine! Teeeen!” You squirmed even more, the sting from his hand lingering. You
were eager to follow through on his challenge. You felt his hand rubbing your ass.

“More please! Please punish me more!” You begged. The strikes from the riding crop came
in more rapid succession.

“Eleven! Twelve! Thirteen! Fourteen…!” You stopped being able to count after fifteen.

“You. Lost. COUNT!” He strikes you one last time. The riding crop audibly snapped against
your ass, making you cry out. You were a panting mess.

“I-I’m sorry, Master!” You whined.

“You still did as I told you. You exceeded ten.” Zusrall said. “Now it’s time to help you
absorb this lesson into your mind.” He said. He untied you and you laid on your back next to
Natiri.

“May I join in, sir…?” Natiri asked.

“That’s up to your mistress.” Zusrall teased.

“Do what you want. I’m busy.” Vebeva said, firmly stuck in Whim’s thoughts.

Natiri got on top of you, straddling you. You pulled her into a passionate kiss. You both felt
Zusrall's tentacles skillfully pleasuring you. You moaned through your kisses, feeling him fill
you. “Oh, yes! Thank you for letting me feel good!” Natiri groaned. She kissed your neck,
expressing her gratitude to you too.

“Mmph! Thank you, Master!” You made sure to thank him too. You didn't want to seem like
an ungrateful thrall.

You could hear Whim being turned into a whimpering mess. It sounded like he really wanted
you to cum so his mistress would let him finish. You had to be a good thrall and cum for
them. You become lost in the sound of your master's purrs and Natiri's sultry moans. “That's
it… Give in to it.” Zusrall encouraged you. You trembled under Natiri. Your mind shut
everyone else out but Zusrall. You closed your eyes. You let him take you, ravaging your
senses and precisely stimulating them.

You were grateful and so deeply loved. So deeply loved, valued, and cared for. It was all
building up so intensely. It was all a depraved ritual of affirmation, control and submission.
Nariti pressed her lips against yours. In the heat and passion of her kiss, you came hard,
convulsing under her. She softly laughed with you. You smiled through tired kisses as your
master pulled out of you and Natiri.

Whim was finally allowed to cum in Vebeva’s coiled tentacle. He eagerly licked off the mess
he made without being told to. “Thank you, Mistress. Thank you oh so much.” He panted.
Natiri carefully rolled off of you when you came down from the high of your orgasm.

“So what did we learn?” Your master asked you.

“I think the only thing I'm learning is that it's good to be bad…” You said. You gave him a
slightly nervous smile. Zusrall laughed at your answer before pressing his forehead against
yours.

“I'll always put you right back in your place.” He assured you. You felt a tenderness in his
voice.

“Right where I belong…” You whispered.

“Right here…” He embraced you.

“Right here…?” You placed your hand on his chest, over his heart.

“That is one place you'll always belong.” Your master told you.

“Would you like our guests to stay for dinner? I would be honored to entertain them to the
fullest extent of my talents.” Whim suggested. Zusrall knew the pompous butler would
inevitably brag.

“Oh, we wouldn't want to impose…” Zusrall subtly tried to get out of it.

“It would be a chance to show the peons how Oryndoll's elite eat.” Vebeva said.

“Seriously, Whim's cooking is so good, he had me eating mushrooms! You'll love it.” Natiri
told you.

“Are you hungry?” Zusrall asked. You nodded.

“I'd be honored to try his cooking if you’ll have us.” You told Vebeva.

“Oh ho ho ho! Very good. Natiri, help them clean up this mess while Whim prepares dinner.”
Vebeva commanded her tiefling thrall. Natiri cleaned herself and you up before putting
everything they got out away in its proper place. Zusrall made you clean up the floor and
make Natiri’s bed nice and neat again. Whim made himself look presentable and put his
clothes back on before heading into the kitchen.

Vebeva went to her chambers to change into a different dress. “I must concede that your
services thus far have improved the relationship I have with my personal thralls. Not that it
was bad before, of course!” Vebeva admitted to Zusrall from her room.

“Of course. There’s nothing wrong with seeking deep connections. Our personal thralls are
in a way, extensions of ourselves. It makes sense that we seek connection with those closest to
us.” Zusrall responded.

He was rubbing some crag mushroom lotion onto your skin that Natiri retrieved for him,
rubbing it in with his hands and tentacles along your back and buttocks. You were sitting in
his lap, facing him and letting him hold you. He pressed his forehead to yours. “My
connection to Whim as of late is powerful… Don’t get me wrong, I like Natiri. Whim cares
about her too, but…” Vebeva trailed off. Was it wrong that she didn’t love Natiri as much as
Whim?

“You’re smitten with Whim.” Zusrall observed.

“I hear her thoughts sometimes. She tries to hide those feelings of being lonely from me and
it makes me feel… Bad. Natiri had nothing and had no one when Whim lured her into the
Underdark. Whim and I are all she has.” She revealed.

“That’s why I prefer not to own more than one personal thrall, but I understand my
experiences are not universal in this colony. Vizaness currently has two. Erux had four last I
heard.” He said. He cuddled with you in his lap among some cushions in her lounge. You
held him close.

“Ugh. Don’t remind me. That creature he calls Quil is a feral little demon!” Vebeva didn’t
care for that particular goblin.

“They’re barely disciplined. I know…” Zusrall responded. “ I heard a rumor that

Aphrayaozu had twelve in his old colony.”

“Goodness! Twelve!? I couldn’t imagine…” Vebeva was surprised to hear that.

“Honestly, if it bothers you, try to communicate with her. She tries to hide those feelings from
everyone, but if you can get her alone, you might make some progress.” Zusrall gave his
advice.

“Do you feel as if you’re neglecting her?” He asked.

“Not really, no. Although I probably shouldn’t have denied her today when she was in such a
vulnerable state… I’ll think about how to deal with that.” She observed. “She always feels
better after I take her to The Breeding Pen, so of course I’ll keep our appointment.” The
dress she wore to dinner was a long deep blue and purple dress. The A-Line dress had a
plunging neckline and a high slit.

You couldn’t help but stare at her. She was beautiful in it. Whim nearly burned his turnovers
because he got distracted by her. Vebeva was well known in the colony to be a fashionable
ulitharid. She was a bit of a trendsetter in the Creative Creed, with others trying to emulate
her sense of style.

She took her seat at the table. Unfortunately, you had to sit on the floor since the chairs at the
table were taken up by her, your master and her thralls. Zusrall gave up his guest seat for you.
“Master, you don’t have to do that for me…” You covered your cheeks, blushing.

“It’s not as if I’m eating. There’s no reason for me to take up space.” Zusrall said.
“Apologies for not having another chair. I’m being a terrible host to you peons!” Vebeva
said. She had no reason to have a fifth chair. Dallimeze was forced to sit on the floor.

“That’s alright. I only have enough dining chairs for myself and my favored thrall as well.”
He understood that perfectly. After taking such a harsh punishment, you got to fill your
stomach with food you’ve never seen before. Crayfish and fire lichen dip on warm
sporebread slices, rothe turnovers with sauteed onions and Elturian Gray cheese with white
chocolate dipped wafer cookies for dessert… It was all as delicious as Natiri said it was.

It seemed like your master was making all kinds of social connections thanks to you, and he
was keenly aware of it. He was eager to see how much higher you two could climb from
here…
 The Library
Chapter Summary

Engesk is from the Loretaker creed, but they're unable to dominate the minds of other
creatures! Engesk copes with this great shame because they have an incredible and rare
ability! The ability to teleport. Engesk sets out on dangerous expeditions to find lost
lore, books and scrolls but he meets his match when they discover a secret underdark
library! The stern yuan-ti librarian, Vhondra, is clearly a very powerful woman, and
extracting the knowledge of the library will be a more time consuming task than the
illithid thought. Vhondra is hiding secrets of her own, but will she ever reveal them to
the curious mind reading her books?

Engesk was a Loretaker. They worked hard to contribute to his own city’s wealth of
knowledge, often working by himself to bring back scrolls, books, and knowledge in various
forms. They had one of the greatest flaws an illithid in Oryndoll could have. They couldn’t
create a thrall. What would normally be something that caused an illithid to flee their colony
in shame, Engesk embraced the challenge. They had a psionic ace up their proverbial sleeve.
Engesk was capable of teleporting. Only one other illithid had ever been reported to have
such an ability. Shaun Taunador who hailed from Ch’chitl. Engesk always thought that was a
strange name for an illithid to have.

Engesk’s ability to teleport not only ensured their survival thus far, it also allowed them to
bring anything he got straight home. The daring illithid had been on heists quite a ways from
their home city in Oryndoll. No matter how trivial the knowledge was, if it was rare, Engesk
wanted it. He personally retrieved the entire four book set of the rare cookbooks, “Cookbooks
of the Underdark”. Srebral had donated generously to that expedition. The fragrant fungus pie
is quite a hit when Srebral offers it as a limited time menu item every year now. Little things
like that made the colony a better place and made Engesk’s dangerous journeys worth it for
them.

Engesk was on an expedition today, far from home. They had taken one other illithid with
them to the Chultan Peninsula. This one had a group of Lizardfolk thralls under their control.
Drex was a young adult illithid who was forced to tag along with the thrall-less illithid who
was somehow his superior. They heard rumors of a vast library in The Serpent Deeps. They
aimed to find it. The fungal jungles were dense and they encountered hostile tribes of
troglodytes along the way.
“We've been crawling through this trog infested mess for days! Can we go home yet!?” Drex
complained.

“We don't need to replace any thralls. God-Brain forbid you actually have to rough it to get
any results. We've teleported back to Oryndoll a total of 28 times on this trek, and I was being
generous on 13 of those occasions. Quit complaining and being so prissy!” Engesk argued.
“I swear if you worked half as hard as me, you would be my superior instead…” The senior
Loretaker grumbled.

The lizard men were cutting through thick mushrooms with machetes, clearing a path ahead
for their illithid masters. “Look, I'm just saying that we don't even have conclusive evidence
this library exists! I mean lost knowledge under some far flung jungle…?” Drex wondered if
Engesk had more than a hunch to go on.

“The ancient Sarrukh have been very active in the Chultan Peninsula, surely they have
buried secrets. I want to find them. If you don't care, you can walk home.” Engesk said. Drex
sighed, following the senior Loretaker through the dense fungal jungle.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere, but it’s on you if this trip turns out to be a massive waste of
time.” Drex said.

“Oh, please. I’ve never been wrong about a lead.” Engesk said. That was a flat out lie.
Engesk had been wrong nearly a third of the time. They just managed to live to tell about it.
It took them 3 hours to travel 3 miles into the dense growth of fungus. At least the foraging
was good for their thralls. That’s when they found it. A cavernous structure, covered in
fungus that was a 1 mile high column of stone. Engesk slowly approached the entrance and
peeked inside. It was indeed a library! A vast cavern was filled wall to wall with books, with
shelves beyond to be seen!

“See? I told you I was never wrong! Now we just go in, grab as much as we can carry, and
get out.” Engesk said.

“There’s no way it’s that easy.” Drex said.

“It is! That’s how I got all nine volumes of Elminster’s Ecologies. If anyone shows up, I’ll just
get us out of there. ” Engesk replied.

“Alright, if you say so…” Drex sent his thralls in to start grabbing books. “Hey, isn’t it a little
weird that everything is so well preserved there…?” Drex asked.

Engesk entered, too excited to really notice. Drex entered after him. Something didn’t feel
right. Engesk tried to reply telepathically as an illithid normally does, only to find that Drex
wasn’t responding. Could he not hear them? “Uh… Why isn’t our telepathy working??”
Engesk asked in a gooey voice.

“Oh fuck! This is a dead psionics zone!” Drex realized, much to his horror. They wanted out
of here. They commanded the lizard folk to leave with them when iron bars suddenly came
down. That natural looking entrance was actually a portcullis!

“Would you mind explaining what you think you’re doing??” A stern feminine voice echoed.
A woman who was a yuan-ti pureblood was staring at them with green snake-like eyes
through cat-eye rimmed glasses. Her black hair was in an a-line bob cut. She looked very
unhappy with them. Drex in a panic, commanded his thralls to attack her.

“WHAT?! NO, YOU MORON! STOP!” Engesk yelled. Resorting to violence would surely
doom them!

They were right. “Nox Tenebras Lux!” The yuan-ti woman cast a spell. Darkness was
centered on the illithids. Not even the supreme darkvision of an illithid could see through this
magical darkness. The next thing they knew, they all heard an awfully scary sound. It
sounded like the world’s largest and most pissed off alligator. What they heard next was
coughing and screaming. Toxic spores were filling Engesk’s lungs. Then they heard a
horrible crunching sound. Finally they were smacked across the head and they lost
consciousness.

Their eyes were open for brief glimpses. They saw the yuan-ti woman standing over pools of
blood. They heard ringing in their ears. The corpses of the thralls and Drex were nowhere to
be seen. “God-Brain help me…” They muttered out of desperation, wondering if their tired
prayer would even be answered. “I don’t want to die…” They drifted in and out of
consciousness before passing out…

Engesk awoke on a large circular cushion dyed in bright colors of blue, yellow, orange and
magenta, and filled with moss pillows in the same colors. Their head was no longer
pounding. Their lungs weren’t burning. Miraculously, it didn’t appear as if any of their bones
were broken. They felt their face. They were missing a tentacle. “No… No no no no no…”
They whispered in their gooey voice. They were quietly freaking out over the injury. They’d
never been hurt like that before. It was still hurting! They knew that their tentacle would
grow back over the course of about four months, but now their face was less symmetrical and
it probably looked ugly and, oh God-Brain where were they!?
They quietly crawled out of the soft space they found themselves in. They were surrounded
by more books. They reasoned that they were still in the library. They had to be because they
still couldn’t use their psionics. They quietly walked through the cavernous maze of books,
finding their way back to where the expedition was. They ran into the same stern yuan-ti
woman stocking the books back on the shelves that they had tried to steal.

Engesk tried to make themselves look small, and moved to return to the spot where she put
them. This was her domain. It wasn’t like they could really hide, right? “You still owe me an
explanation.” She said.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me!” Engesk cowered. It was as good a plan B as anything, since
they couldn’t do much else.

They could handle weapons that were light and easy to use such as a dagger or a short sword,
the latter of which they actually had before it was confiscated by their mysterious and
powerful captor. Those skills wouldn’t do them much good here. Their psionics were useless
since they couldn’t use them. “Then you should consider telling me who you are and why
you thought you could so brazenly steal from my library!” The woman’s eyes narrowed at
them.

Their tentacles practically shivered. They were nervous. They tried to teleport. Predictably to
no avail. “M-my name is Engesk. I’m a member of the Loretaker Creed…” They began.

“I actually have little knowledge of illithid culture other than that they’re apparently a bunch
of pilfering lore thieves!” This harsh woman revealed.

“Not all of us steal knowledge! Sometimes we trade for it!” Engesk wouldn’t accept such a
blanket statement. “Kind of like how not all orcs are stupid brutes? Stereotypes come from a
place of ignorance…” Engesk said.

“I don’t know enough people to form such opinions… Very few people come to this library
to chat... Which is how I prefer it.” She said. “Why did you come here?” The woman asked
him.

“I’m a seeker of rare knowledge. Old tomes, scrolls, tablets, whatever… If it’s written and
lost, I find it and bring it back to my colony. I didn’t know anyone was living here, or
actively guarding the books.” Engesk responded. The illithid was not sorry for what they did.
They were merely remorseful that they got caught. They were very sorry now that they had
ended up as this woman’s prisoner.
“So you thought you could just waltz in and take my books.” She looked unamused.

“I’m ashamed to say yes…” Engesk’s deep blue cheeks flushed pale. “Could I at least know
my captor’s name?” They asked sheepishly.

“It’s Vhondra. And yours?” She expected them to return the favor. She continued putting the
tomes away while talking to them.

“Engesk…” They found speaking like this to be somewhat humiliating. They wished they
could get their psionics working again!

“So what do Loretakers do?” She asked.

“They advocate a long-term strategy of gathering all forms of information and slowly
depleting information held by other races. I don’t actually care about that second part. I don’t
think it matters if other races have knowledge as long as we have more.” Engesk said.

“Why?” Vhondra asked.

“To strengthen our community and make our rivals weaker, of course!” Engesk responded.

“So you don’t actually care about the knowledge or reading for its own sake?” She looked
disappointed in Engesk.

“That’s untrue! I love reading more than anything!” The accusation brought tears to their
solid white eyes. “I’ll have you know that I have an extensive personal collection in my
domicile!” Engesk retorted. “Sometimes the books I find make my community a better place
for someone! Otherwise I wouldn’t bother with any of this!” They gave an impassioned
answer. They wouldn’t tolerate being accused of not caring.

She stared at the illithid as if studying them. Engesk wished they knew what she was
thinking! “Please don’t stare at me like that… It’s scaring me!” They whimpered with
pathetic gooey fear. They winced when she cast another spell.

“Sensibilis Cogitatus.” She cast Detect Thoughts. At the forefront of this illithid’s mind was
fear that they would be killed like their companions. “Were you telling the truth?”

“Of course I am! What kind of sociopath lies about something like that!?” They were indeed
being truthful. Engesk then realized she was reading their mind! “Heey! No fair!” They
whined.
“Protecting these books is something I take very seriously, Engesk. I would die to protect
them. I trust you will not test that theory again…” She stared them down.

“No! Of course not! I won’t do it again! I swear!” They waved their remaining three tentacles
and hands dismissively.

“Then if you truly want to learn, then you can cease bothering me and begin reading…”
Vhondra said.

“Huh? Wha??” They were confused. “There’s no way it’s that easy…” Engesk muttered.

“There are some ground rules you must follow! You may copy any tome, but you will NOT
take any of them out of this library! I will know if a single book is missing! Furthermore, if
you damage any book, I will destroy you.” She warned them.

“Did you kill the other illithid?” Engesk nervously asked.

“They did not survive their little stunt.” She confirmed.

“C-can I have his brain? Please? I need to take it back to the elder brain.” Engesk asked.
They did care about making sure Drex became part of the great collective. It was a sad duty
to serve. They were so young… Of course, they would never admit to it being their fault.

“I have a chest of preserving I can put their remains into. Although I expect you to return it.”
She said.

“S-sure! Whatever you want…” They had no idea what this woman was capable of.

“Voluntas Mandatum!” Engesk winced at the casting of another spell. Geas. “You will
refrain from committing any act that would allow you to reveal the location of my lair. The
spell I cast on you will have some very unpleasant and painful consequences if you disobey.
That would include trying to remove it.” She revealed. The illithid got yet another taste of her
power.

“I don’t want any consequences…” Engesk’s tentacles writhed nervously.

“Very good… Now then, if you’re looking for suggestions on what to read, start with A and
work your way down. You won’t find an uncompelling volume in this library. Everything in
here has stood the test of time!” She put the last remaining book in its proper place. “Now if
you’ll excuse me, I have to go back up your dead friend.” She said. Engesk’s tentacles
scrunched up at that sentence. Did she really have to say it that way…?
“Can I have my stuff back? You don’t have to give me my weapon. I just want my journal
and striator…” They sheepishly asked.

Vhondra went around a desk and pulled Engesk’s backpack from under it, confiscating the
sword. “You may have this back when you leave.” She said. When she was gone from the
room, Engesk sat down immediately with their journal, the pages were of thick paper made
from mushrooms. The raised lines of qualith showed up effortlessly on it. They began
frantically writing their thoughts down.

“Bad day. This female yuan-ti is really scary!! For the first time, I actually fear for my life…
Drex is gone. He’s dead. I don’t know how she did it, but she killed them all so quickly. I
couldn’t see anything. I thought I was already dead. Everything seemed to slow down. I think
I’m still alive anyway, unless we were wrong about not having souls… Wait, that's stupid.
Nobody’s ever seen an illithid ghost before….

I always get side tracked when I’m nervous… Anyway…

She’s letting me read her books for motivations I don’t understand. I really should just run
away and never come back to this place ever again, but I can’t let Drex’s death be in vain. I
need to have something substantial to show for this. I can’t go back to my colony with
nothing. This is the only thing that makes me worth something to anyone...”

Well... Guess it was time to pick a book and start reading...

 Well, Shit! We Ended Up in Waterdeep! pt. 2
Chapter Summary

Raphraxus and Syllan have an evening of respite inside the magnificent mansion of
Yar'rel's lich patron, Zhekyl. The past is revealed and the future becomes slightly more
certain.

Raphraxus set Syllan down on their bed. It was big enough for both of them and made of
moss. The decor was natural looking, with stone chairs and glowing mushrooms sprouting
from the wooden walls. “Huh. The lich customized each room? That's rather thoughtful…”
Raphraxus looked around. “Yar'rel's not so bad after all.” He said.

“She can be mean sometimes but I really don't think it's all her fault. She tries.” Syllan said,
hugging a moss pillow.

“Their young are forced to fight each other. Such barbaric rituals can easily turn someone
mean.” Raphraxus revealed more of his knowledge of githyanki.

“I'm glad she got out of there, even if it was hard and painful. She has way nicer people
around her now.” Syllan said.

“The others, what are their stories? If you don't mind sharing. I can always just ask them.”
Raphraxus asked.

“So Zarimm's story is actually pretty spicy… He won't mind me sharing. He wrote songs
about it. So his dad's some aristocrat, and he had an affair with his half-orc mom and she had
three kids with him.” He said.

“Three!? This man had three kids without the spouse finding out!?” Raphraxus was shocked.

“Yes! I had the same reaction. Anyway his dad put them up in a nice big house and he just
gets presents from him twice a year. Once on his birthday and once during Waukeentide. His
brother and sister own a business. They're glass blowers I think?” Syllan recalled.

“So how'd he become a bard?” Raphraxus asked.

“He said he just felt like it. He was with a troupe of entertainers when we met him. He
wanted some entertaining stories to share I guess.” Syllan was calming down from his
embarrassment.
“Do you think he got more than he bargained for with us?” Raphraxus quietly laughed.

Syllan shoved his face into the pillow. “Raph!” He whined. He was smiling despite hiding his
face.

“Alright, so what about Phoebe?” Raphraxus asked to get them back on track.

“Gods, her story is kind of sad. Her mom was a farmer. Dad wasn't in the picture at all. Mom
got captured when she was about 10?” He recalled.

“Yes, I notice many adventurers have absent fathers or are orphans…” Raphraxus
commented.

“She actually became my neighbor when a hedge wizard, Kamia, took her in. She found her
in the forest. Kamia owns our local library back in my hometown.” Syllan said. “I didn't get
to know her until we were older though.” He said. “Kamia wanted her to stay in the library to
continue her studies but Phoebe thought she could learn more by being out in the world.” He
explained why she became a wizard.

“That seems to be a theme with this group. Setting out on a whim to embrace something new
that calls to us. I guess I really do fit in with your group.” Raphraxus noticed. “Is Phoebe
still on good terms with her adoptive guardian?” The aberration asked him as he started
snooping through the room.

“I actually don’t know. She doesn’t talk much about her family or anything. I never asked.
She’s never really talked about herself all that much, but she opens up more over time if she
gets to know you better. Maybe we’ll find out some day.” Syllan told him, sitting up and
watching his aberrant boyfriend snoop through drawers.

“You sure do like snooping, don’t you? It’s like you were made for adventuring.” Syllan
snorted. Raphraxus found a sign in one of the empty drawers. It was in Common and
Undercommon. “DO NOT DISTURB! ELDRITCH RITUAL IN PROGRESS!” it read.
Raphraxus chuckled at it.

“Who knew that a lich could have a sense of humor?” His tentacles curled in amusement as
he showed the sign to Syllan. Syllan blushed at the implication of it, but he had a smile on his
face.

Zarimm knocked on the door. “Hey, Syllan! Dinner is ready!” He called. The party had a
little code system for when they wanted privacy from each other. They always honored it
with the exception of an absolute emergency. A small red ribbon tied upon their tent or their
door knob. Since he saw no such ribbon, he thought nothing of knocking.

“We’ll be there!” Syllan said. He hopped up and opened the door.

“You wouldn’t believe it! Yar’rel gets to eat an entire nine-course banquet all to herself every
month! She was holding out on us!” Zarimm shared.

“Nine courses?? I didn’t know there were anymore than three!” Syllan said.

“A nine course meal typically includes an hors d'oeuvre, soup, appetizer, salad, fish, main
course, palate cleanser, dessert, and mignardise.” Raphraxus explained.

“What the hell is a mignardise? That sounds like some made up rich people word that my real
dad would say.” Zarimm inquired. Syllan actually knew this one from his grandfather.

“It’s this tiny dessert you can eat in a single bite. It’s so you can eat dessert without regretting
it, I guess.” Syllan shrugs.

“I can’t handle anything with dairy in it. I can’t digest that stuff correctly so even if I could
taste it, I shouldn’t eat it.” Raphraxus told them.

“I get it. I end up regretting it every time I eat cheese.” Zarimm said.

“Why do you keep eating it then?” Raphraxus curled a tentacle in confusion. What
masochistic reason did the bard have for putting himself through gastrointestinal discomfort?

“Because it tastes too good.” Zarimm had a pensive expression. He knows what will happen,
but he can’t resist the allure of a good cheddar.

“Humanoids are so frequently willing to harm themselves for the pursuit of pleasure…”
Raphraxus shook his head.

“I can’t argue against that…” Syllan smiled sheepishly.

“That’s why our group looks out for each other! Or we try to anyway. “ Zarimm said. In the
dining room at the large table, Yar’rel and Zhekyl were seated together. Phoebe and Zarimm
sat across from Syllan and Raphraxus. The hors d'oeuvre was bacon jam on small slices of
toasted bread. Raphraxus was taking a spoon, scooping off the jam and eating it.

“So uh, we do have a little bit of a problem. Not with you guys or anything! I mean
Raphraxus will uh… Need our help blending in…” Syllan began to talk to his party.
“It’s that pesky registration law isn’t it?” Phoebe asked.

“Registration?” Zarimm asked. “What? Why do we need to register?”

“If you want to stay longer than a tenday in the City of Splendors, you have to play by the
rules, or don’t get caught breaking them.” Phoebe responded.

“And they’re pretty damn good at catching you. That’s why I keep my business in this city
brief and infrequent. I’m assuming that’s why you were trying to go to Baldur’s Gate
instead.” Zhekyl said.

“Most of us are arcane spellcasters, so we’d have to register with the Watchful Order of
Magists and Protectors.” Syllan said.

“Could you imagine if they unknowingly registered a lich? It would certainly draw too much
attention and a lot of wizards would be out of a job.” Zhekyl laughed.

“There’s no way we can register that hulking ghaik without scaring everyone!” Yar’rel
protested

“Why not?” Zarrim asked.

“Because he’s fucking massive and if anyone sees a single claw or tentacle, there’ll be panic
in the streets!” Yar’rel pointed out.

“We rode a dray and nobody gave a damn.” Zarimm argued.

“I could cast true polymorph on Raphraxus when you find a magister.” Zhekyl had an idea.
“They would think he’s just a goliath.”

“With big tiddies.” Zarimm quickly added. Yar’rel, Phoebe and Syllan were all holding in a
laugh. Phoebe covered her mouth, hiding that she was grinning ear to ear.

“Zarimm, I will make good on that threat to bite you some day!” Raphraxus shook his fist at
him, which caused the rest of the party to snicker.

This was apparently some in-joke that the lich wasn’t privy to and he didn’t want to know.
“However, getting caught after that would be a problem. Assuming you want to stay in this
city longer than a tenday. You still have 9 days to think about it…” He continued.

“It’s possible for a mind flayer to live in Waterdeep! Raphraxus told me about one named
Sangalor?” Syllan brought that up.
“Ah, Sangalor of the Secrets. I’ve never met them but they seemed like an interesting fellow.
Actually I haven’t been to this city since 1371...” Zhekyl recalled. The lich was glad that his
favorite inn was still standing after all these years. A broccoli and mushroom soup was
brought out next.

“In order for you to cut such a deal, you’d have to get in contact with the Lords of Waterdeep.
Easier said than done since they’re all anonymous…” Zhekyl said. Yar’rel made a face,
watching Raphraxus slurp on the entire bowl of soup down by wrapping some of his tentacles
around it.

“Can’t your ghaik lover get better table manners?” Her eyes narrowed.

“You are eating like an animal, buddy.” Zarimm told him.

“Sorry…” Raphraxus put the bowl down trying to use a spoon to the best of his ability.

“Charming…” Zhekyl smirked.

Over the remaining seven courses, the group agreed that while leaving Waterdeep would be
the easiest option, perhaps they could carve some sort of existence out in the city if they
could put their heads together. They all agreed to spend at least a few more days in this city
before coming to a decision. After dinner, Syllan and Raphraxus returned to their room.

“How are you feeling about everything so far?” Syllan checked in on Raphraxus.

“Cautiously optimistic? There’s a certain refreshing elation to being treated like just a fellow
adventurer… Nobody expects me to bring back the lost glory of some stupid creed that
honestly got what it deserved through its incompetence. People just expect us to protect them
or fight some monster or go into some ruins or whatever. Those are easy things to
accomplish.” Raphraxus responded.

“Why the negative view of your colony? I mean I know there’s a lot of reasons but what’s
yours?” Syllan asked.

“Frankly, I don’t give a damn about conquest. I just thought it was my duty to, you know, be a
good soldier and impress my superiors.” Raphraxus got comfortable in bed, pulling off his
clothing and tossing them onto the floor.

“I came along and messed all that up, huh?” Syllan changed into his short chemise that barely
covered him, which Raphraxus had given him as replacement clothing upon their first
meeting.

“I’m glad you did…” Raphraxus pulled up the blanket for Syllan to get into bed. “You still
have that thing?” He asked.

“It’s comfortable. Also it smelled like you when you gave it to me so I kept it…” Syllan
answered as he got into bed next to him, curling up as the little spoon.

“You still look just as cute in it.” Raphraxus complimented him.

“Do you… Still want me to make up for this morning?” Syllan asked. “Might get your mind
off some things…” He hoped. Raphraxus silently got out of bed and grabbed the do not
disturb sign from earlier, placing it on the outside of their door and locking it.

“As a matter of fact, I do…” His tentacles curled smugly. Syllan took off his clothes without
hesitation. Raphraxus easily pinned the sorcerer down with only his tentacles.

“Oh fuck…” Syllan gasped softly, squirming in his grip. He embraced the sensation of
tentacles on his skin, squeezing, sliding and rubbing against his body. He quickly gave in to
Raphraxus. His lips pressed against a tentacle, kissing it eagerly. “Mnn… Do you want to
pick up where we left off?” He asked his powerful lover.

Raphraxus got down on the bed, laying down before pulling Syllan on top of him. “I want to
try with you on top this time.” He suggested.

“Huh…? Me? On top…?” Syllan blushed as a tentacle rubbed under his chin.

“Mm-hmm… Want to give it a try?” Raphraxus asked.

“I-I can do my best…” Syllan answered. Raphraxus wrapped a tentacle around Syllan’s
waist.

“You’re overthinking…” Raphraxus assured him. He rubbed a tentacle against Syllan’s hard
shaft.

Syllan gave into the sensation as he grabbed Raphraxus’ thighs. He let the aberration guide
him, and slowly entered him. They both moaned softly as Syllan filled him. Raphraxus kept
his arms above his head, relaxing himself. He made eye contact with Syllan. “The only time
you get to top me is when I let you. I’m letting you.” Raphraxus could sense Syllan’s
nervousness. He clearly wasn’t used to anything other than submission. Raphraxus snaked
one of his long tentacles to Syllan’s rear, rubbing it against the entrance. “Don’t disappoint
me…” He teased the half-elf.
That teasing was all the motivation Syllan needed. He began thrusting into Raphraxus.
Gurgled moans and purrs accompanied Syllan’s needy whimpers. “That’s it… Just like that!”
Raphraxus encouraged. It was intense. He wondered how he could handle if he started
fucking Syllan too. He pushed that tentacle in, and Syllan became lost in the sensation of
being filled while filling Raphraxus. “S-so good…!” He moaned.

Raphraxus groaned. It was too intense! Syllan could feel their link break off. “A-ah… You
alright? Tell me what you need…” Syllan slowed himself. He felt their link strengthen, once
again in sync. “Go slow like this.” Raphraxus instructed. Syllan kept a slow and sensual
pace. He kissed a tentacle with passion. “ Hrrngh…! Good boy!” Raphraxus praised.

“Oh, fuck…! Raph…!” Syllan squeaked.

“You want me to go harder?” Raphraxus asked. He could sense his yearning for his tentacles.
Syllan nodded.

“Yes!” He mentally responded. Raphraxus slowed himself.

“You know what I want to hear.” Raphraxus teased.

“H-harder please…” Syllan panted, having trouble thinking as Raphaxus overtook his
senses.

“Beg for it.” He purred. Even on the bottom, Syllan made him feel like he was on top of the
world.

“Please fuck me harder! Please! Fuck! I need it!” Syllan begged. The pace of his thrusts were
gradually speeding up.

Raphraxus couldn't help but oblige. They pulled each other deeper towards a pleasant
emptiness. No thought of tomorrow or the next tenday. It was just them right here and now.
Raphraxus felt himself trembling. He was practically melting into the moss mattress with
Syllan as one.

His tentacles embraced Syllan as if he were bracing them both for the conclusion of this
experience. He could feel Syllan's legs quivering, threatening to give out. His tentacles
squeezed his legs, trying to hold them steady. He nudged Syllan out of him, fervently
finishing him off with a tentacle. He felt the warmth of Syllan’s seed splattering onto his abs
as they climaxed together.

Raphraxus pulled Syllan beside him before coming to rest, his tentacles flopping onto the
panting sorcerer.

“I love you so much…” Raphraxus said.

“I love you too.” Syllan kissed him as he cleaned him up. They heard an unpleasant groan
from Zarimm's room. Raphraxus sighed.

“I told him not to eat that cream cheese puff for dessert…” Raphraxus said.

“I know. We all did.” Syllan shook his head. “He'll be alright by the morning. He's just
paying for it now.” He assured Raphraxus.

“Tsk'va, Zarimm! You knew this was going to happen. You're lucky I'm nice enough to bring
you this medicine.” Yar'rel could be heard scolding him. Raphraxus snickered quietly.

“Hey, does your group have a name?” Raphraxus asked Syllan.

“A name…? Never really thought about it…” Syllan said.

“How on Toril did your adventuring group get this far without a distinct company name!?”
Raphraxus was surprised.

“That’s it. I’m making one up for you… I’ve got it. Pretty People That Don’t Lift.”
Raphraxus’ tentacles curled in amusement. Syllan snickered.

“What?? That sounds awfully specific…” The half-elf chuckled.

“That’s what makes it perfect! It’s unique, and attention grabbing…” Raphraxus jokingly
tried to sell him on it.

“And Yar’rel would hate it.” Syllan said. He laid beside Raphraxus. Raphraxus turned onto
his side, trailing his clawed fingers over the patch of dragon scales on Syllan’s arm.

“She’d get used to it.” He replied. “I’m going to start plastering it onto business flyers, just
you wait. I know they have a printing press in this city.” The aberration teased.
“I guess we do need to figure out what we’re going to do here on the Sword Coast if we’re
choosing to stay for a bit…” Syllan said. Raphraxus brought up a good point that they should
stay busy.

Raphraxus pulled the blankets over themselves with his tentacles. Today was the start of a
new phase in their lives. “No matter where we end up, I know it’ll be alright as long as I’m
with you...”
 In the Dog House
Chapter Summary

Caramyn punishes her husband Dallimeze after he doesn't do his chores.

Dallimeze was enjoying his days off from work. He worked six days of the tenday and rested
on the remaining four. It gave him plenty of time to be with Caramyn. Soon in the coming
months, those days off would be dedicated to assisting in child rearing, so he cherished every
moment he had alone with her.

Today his wife went to pick up a brain for him from the market. He could trust her to go by
herself. Every illithid knew she belonged to Dallimeze, and she was a deadly rogue. It was
theorized she would be able to kill an illithid by herself, but she was allowed to roam more
than other thralls because she would willingly defend the colony if it were ever under attack.

Dallimeze looked up from his embroidery when he heard his wife return home. He
reflexively hid his embroidery hoop behind his back out of habit. Just in case someone would
see him in the sitting room with that. He often sent her with some extra money when they had
it to buy some extra things she thought they would like from the bazaar. “Welcome home,
honey!” Dallimeze greeted his wife, taking out the embroidery he was hiding. “What did you
get this time?” He asked.

“I got you something rare today! Stout halfling!” She sounded excited. “Oh, and I ran into
Vebeva while I was out. Natiri got into crochet recently and look what she made us for the
baby’s crib!” The gnome pulled a mobile made of crocheted mushrooms out of the bag she
kept separate from the brain she bought.

“Aww! How adorable! I’ll have to sew something nice for them.” Dallimeze commented.

“Did you sweep and dust while I was gone?” She asked him.

“Oh… Uh… I got so caught up in this, I forgot to.” Dallimeze said. She was bringing
everything in, setting it on the table.

“Did you at least wash the dishes?” Caramyn asked.

“I thought… You wanted to do that…” His tentacles curled nervously.

“Mmhmhm. You were wrong!” She gave him a tense smile.

She calmly went into the bedroom and retrieved his apron and collar. She threw them at him.
“Put on your uniform and go wash the dishes. Now!” She demanded.

“Sure, honey! Let me just put this away…” Dallimeze put down his embroidery.

“You sure do have a funny definition of what ‘now’ means…” Caramyn reaches up, pulling
him out of his chair by a tentacle. Dallimeze let out a gooey yelp and allowed himself to be
pulled onto his hands and knees.

Caramyn drew a dagger from a leather holster she kept under her dress on her outings. “Get
moving or I’ll be having calamari for dinner.” She threatened, holding the dagger close to a
tentacle near his mouth. Dallimeze remained absolutely still. They both knew she wouldn’t
do it. They had extensive conversations about keeping Dallimeze safe from any stigma that
would ruin his life. The mere fantasy was enough to make the masochistic illithid submit.

“Alright! Alright! Whatever you say, honey.” Dallimeze conceded. Caramyn released him
and he began stripping out of his robes and put on the frilly apron.

“Yes. That’s what I thought.” She smirked. Dallimeze levitated over to the washing basin and
began washing up the dishes. The first time they met, she had actually attacked him, thinking
he had intended to eat her. He enjoyed her fiery spirit. He loved having a thrall that could
actually hurt him. He wanted her as a thrall from the start. What he hadn’t expected was that
he would fall so deeply in love with his expert torturer.

“I asked you to do two simple things for me! If you can’t even clean up a simple little mess,
how are you going to help me when this kid is born??” Caramyn scolded him while preparing
dinner.

“I guess children are pretty messy, huh? It’s just us so it’s not that bad now, but it’ll be years
before our child can even begin learning to clean up their own messes.” Dallimeze said.

Caramyn was giving him the cold shoulder, not responding to him, with a stern scowl on her
face.

“Oh God-Brain, it’s so hot when you’re mad at me…” He said. She peeled potatoes more
aggressively.
“I can reconsider that calamari at any time, you know!” She threatened.

“In all seriousness, I know I can be a lousy husband, but if you ever feel overwhelmed with
anything, I’ll be there for you.” Dallimeze told her sincerely. She cracked a smile.

“You took your vows to me so you better be!” Caramyn said.

“Til’ death do us part, right?” He confirmed.

“Til’ death do us part.” She nodded. “I’m still punishing you for not doing your chores!” She
added. Dallimeze covered his face with his tentacles as he flushed pale. It elicited a
saccharine giggle from his wife. “As a matter of fact…” She tossed diced potatoes into the
stew pot. She used her step stool to get the leash off of the wall by the door. Dallimeze had a
difficult time focusing on his task. He knew what she was planning to do with that and he
found himself getting excited for it.

“Finish drying those dishes first.” She reminded him. Dallimeze eagerly finished the chore
that was supposed to do earlier. She snapped her fingers and pointed to her feet. He got on his
hands and knees in front of her. When she hooked the leash to the collar, she found that the
leash awkwardly poked out from between his tentacles. “Hmm…. That does look a little silly,
doesn’t it? Those tentacles are too free. I’ll have to design something more… Thorough.” She
noted.

“I can’t wait to see what that creative mind of yours comes up with.” He complimented his
wife. She led him into the Torture Lab, and there was a new addition to it. A cage made to
hold humanoids. They hadn’t put anyone in it yet.

“I think you should be the one to test out our new cage.” Caramyn suggested. The keys were
kept at gnome height for his wife to easily grab them. She tugged on his leash, pulling him to
his knees.

“Well I suppose I should make sure it’s uh, fit for a captive, right?” Dallimeze crawled into
the cage when Caramyn opened the door. She then smirked as she locked it.

“Are you ready for your punishment now?” She asked.

“Yes.” Dallimeze responded.

“Yes, what?” His wife asked.

“Yes, honey…” He responded.

“Mmn.. That’s perfect. Let me hear you say it again.” She said.

“Yes, honey!” Dallimeze repeated with more enthusiasm. She walked around to the side of
the cage.

“How do you like being locked up in there?” She asked. She reached through the bars,
caressing his shoulder.

“I love it, honey.” Dallimeze responded. He reached through the bars with a tentacle,
wrapping it around her thigh.

She slapped his tentacle, causing him to let out a small gooey yelp and release her. “No, no! I
didn’t say you could touch me yet, you filthy pig!” She wags her finger at him.

“Can I call you Mistress? … I mean! I… I-!” His face turned completely pale realizing what
he just said. He wanted to scream. Did he cross a line? Caramyn gasped, then got a
mischievous smile on her face and laughed at him.

“Damn, Dalli. I knew you were so pathetically submissive but this is a new low for you!” She
giggled. “You want to call me Mistress when we play like this?” She asked.

“If you’re alright with it… but not in front of Vebeva. She might exile me for real.” Dallimeze
was so embarrassed that his wife’s domination made him say something like that. He
admittedly loved debasing himself like that.

“Well, you can’t cheat on me if I am the mistress too… Don’t worry. It’ll be our little secret.”
She pulled off her dress and climbed onto the cage with her step stool, sitting on top of it. She
was in her underwear. “So why don’t you show me how much you want to play by
worshiping your mistress’ body?” She encouraged him.

Dallimeze eagerly reached his tentacles up though the top of the cage. One of them wraps
around her waist. Another one tugs at her underwear, pulling the crotch of the fabric aside.
He rubs a tentacle against her pussy, firmly focusing on her desires. “Oh yes… Right there.”
She praised him, moaning softly. She caresses the tentacle wrapping around her thigh.
Dallimeze closed his eyes, feeling blissfully comfortable servicing his wife.

“On a scale of one to ten, how uncomfortable is that cage? Did I pick out a nice cage?”
Caramyn asked.
“I’d give it an eight. It’s nice and cramped. It’s not easy to move around in here. The bars are
a bit wider than I’d like, but they’re sufficient for holding most humanoid captives.”
Dallimeze gave his honest review. “If we really wanted to add some extra cruelty, we could
wrap barbed wire around the bars to discourage any escape attempts.” He suggested.

“Ooh. I love the way you think!” She giggled. She came down from the top of the cage, his
tentacles leaving a slimy trail where they touched. “Want to get out of there so I can punish
you some more?” She offered.

“Yes, Mistress.” Dallimeze confirmed. Calling her that left him hot and bothered. He couldn’t
believe he was saying that and yet it felt so right.

“I’m starting to think you left these keys here for a reason.” Caramyn smirked. “I’ll be right
back. I have to retrieve something first.” She left the Torture Lab, leaving him there. She
returned with the step stool. “Now then, where were we…?”

“My punishment?” Dallimeze blushed.

“Ah, yes.” She brought the keys down from the wall and unlocked his cage. He crawled out
of the cage and stood up. She picked up the leash, leading him around to the side of the cage.
“Bend over.” She commanded. Dallimeze bent over the cage and Caramyn tied the leash to
the bars, keeping him still. She positioned the step stool so she could get easy access to his
ass.

“I have been waiting to see this all day. I think my lazy husband deserves a spanking.” She
teasingly rubbed his ass. “Do you want me to spank you?” She asked.

“Yes, mistress! I've been a bad husband! Please spank me!” Dallimeze begged. Her small
hand slapped against his ass, eliciting a moan from him. He wrapped his tentacles around the
bars, holding onto them securely.

Caramyn continued spanking him. “Harder, please!” Dallimeze begged.

“You're being really naughty!” Caramyn teased, spanking him harder. Dallimeze moaned
louder, his gooey voice emanating from him. “Stay right there and don’t move.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He stayed perfectly still. She spanked him one last time as she approached a
wall of torture implements, chains, floggers and more. “Hmm… A lot to choose from. What
will I punish you with next?” She took her time looking at everything. She knew he was
reading her thoughts and she was keeping him in suspense.
“The cane. Please?” He suggested.

“I do enjoy seeing the marks on your pretty purple ass, Dalli.” She grinned. She took the cane
down from the wall and slapped the leather tip into the palm of her hand so he could hear it.
She approached him, trailing the tip along his back as she got behind him. “I think you were
made for this, Dalli. You look so cute bent over that cage for me.” She complimented him,
cracking the cane over his ass. “What do we say?”

“Thank you, Mistress!” He piped up.

“That’s right…” Caramyn began striking his ass until it was pale. “I love seeing the marks I
leave behind.” She admitted. She rubbed at his flushed ass, before rubbing her finger over his
cloaca without sticking it in.

“Oh fuck…” Dallimeze groaned. “Please…” He took on a pathetic gooey voice.

“Please what?” Caramyn egged him on. She knew teasing him like this would drive him
crazy.

“Please fuck me, mistress!” He begged.

“Wow. All I did was touch you and you’re already sounding so pathetic.” Caramyn teased.
“Well since you like getting your ass fucked so much, I got you a special surprise…” She
said.

“What did you get me?” He asked. He tried to read her mind but she managed to break off
his mental intrusion. Such a thrall was dangerous but it only excited him.

“It’s not a surprise if you read my mind to see it, silly!” Caramyn untied his leash and
brought over a chair. “I’ll show it to you after I tie you up. Bend over the chair.” She then
unhooked the leash from his collar.

Dallimeze obeyed his wife’s command. She used spider silk rope, which Vebeva loaned to
her, to secure his torso to the seat of the chair. His hands were tied behind his back and his
knees were tied to the legs of the chair. Sure he could levitate to get away, but he’d look very
silly doing it. “We should get one of these chairs bolted to the floor at some point, hm?” She
asked, thinking about that possibility.

“Damn, you think of everything.” Dallimeze’s tentacles wiggled in amusement.

“I’m going to get your surprise now. No peeking!” She informed him. He heard the gnome
getting something out of a drawer and within a moment she came around front, wearing a
strap on harness with a smooth metal dildo in the harness.

“Good God-Brain…” His tentacles went limp, his cheeks turned pale.

“Is it too big for you? I wouldn’t give you anything I couldn’t take.” Caramyn assured him.

“I really want to try it.” He was entranced seeing his wife wearing that.

“Alright, let’s give this a try then. I’m making you clean up any mess you make by the way.”
She smirked. She got the step stool and used it to position herself behind him. She slowly
entered him, testing the waters. The cold metal cock slowly pushing into his cloaca made him
moan. He let out a long purr at that. “Ooh. Someone likes this.”

“It’s perfect…!” Dallimeze responded. She slowly pushed it in all the way. Dallimeze’s
tentacles were squirming of their own accord, starting to drip all over the floor.

She began smoothly thrusting her hips into him. “O-oh fuck! This is perfeeect…!” He
shivered. His thoughts and sounds were slowly becoming unintelligible.

“Look at the mess you’re making! You want to please me so badly, don’t you?” She teased
him.

“Y-yes! Yes, Mistress! Please! Please!” He begged. She pulled out of him, slapping the metal
rod against his ass. “Be patient while I untie you then.” She said, pulling off the harness and
setting it on the floor for now.

“By the way…” She began untying him. “You can ruin this underwear if you want. It’s an old
set.” She informed him. He noticed she quite liked it when he ripped her clothes off or
otherwise got them all slimy. The illithid’s tentacles writhed in anticipation to get relief and
make his wife cum as he felt his bonds loosening. The instant he was free, he wordlessly
picked her up gently and took her to their room. He wanted to do this somewhere softer. He
put her down on the moss mattress and yanked off her panties with two of his tentacles. He
ripped her bra apart with his hands, exposing her small perky breasts.

“Oh my!” She giggled. “Yes, make your wife feel good, you filthy pervert!” She encouraged
him. He was so aroused, he couldn’t focus on talking. He stuffed one of his slimy tentacles in
her mouth, and pinned her arms down with his hands. “Mmph!” Caramyn let out a surprised
and muffled moan.

“I married such a beast!” She thinks, knowing he would hear it.

“You turned me into this.” Dallimeze playfully argued. One of his tendrils snaked around her
waist and squeezed one of her breasts. Another rubbed her clitoris while the remaining tendril
slowly filled her ass.

Loud muffled moans came from Caramyn as she embraced her husband’s tentacles using her.
“ Hrrgh… You’re… Exquisite! You’re… The best wife anyone could ever ask for!” Dallieze
struggled to put his feelings into words as he panted. She squirmed against his tentacles,
shivering as she attempted to help him make her cum.

“You’re the best lousy husband!” She thought, her eyes rolling back.

“Til’ death do us part…” He said. “Le thiramin nehel… Le thirmin nehel!” He loved her.
Dallimeze loved her so much.

Caramyn could feel the overwhelming need and warmth behind every word. Dallimeze took
her small hands into his, holding her down. “Le thiramin nehel…!” Caramyn thought back.
She was about to climax. She eagerly begged for it to happen. The tentacle in her mouth
slipped out, causing illithid slime to dribble down her chin as they climaxed together.
“Aaah…. Fuck…” Caramyn laughed softly.

Dallimeze laid beside her, wrapping his tentacles around his wife. She knew he was stunned
from that. She let him stay there as long as he wanted, gently petting his head. He purred
softly from her affection for several minutes before he finally snapped out of it. “Let’s get
cleaned up. I’ll let you eat dinner before having to clean up the Torture Lab.” She said.
Dallimeze got a towel to wipe up his tentacles and clean up his wife. With as much of a mess
as he made, his slime would be dripping out of her for a while.

She got herself a bowl of stew, and she put Dallimeze’s brain on a nice wide plate before
putting it on the floor. Dallimeze looked at the plate on the floor, his tentacles writhing in a
flustered manner. “Gee, I’m really in the doghouse this time!”

Caramyn giggled. “If you want to eat at the table, you have to do your chores!” She playfully
wagged her finger at him. She got into her seat at the table and began eating her stew.

Dallimeze got on his hands and knees and picked up the halfling brain, stuffing it into his
mouth. “You’ve outdone yourself again, honey! This is delicious! You always pick out the
best brains!” It was so comforting and delicious, he didn’t care that he was on the floor
eating it. Caramyn smiled, watching him eat his dinner.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it, Dalli.” She said, taking a bite of her stew. “Hm… Should I get
onions next week?” She wondered.

“Oooh, we should do deep rothe steak next week too! It was really good when you put the
onions on it! I’ll even help you get the oven ready for it.” He offered. He knew how much of
a pain in the ass it was when he helped her clean it that one day, but he’d put up with it for
that.

“Alright. I’ll see about picking up some steak too.” She nodded.

“I actually forgot I was wearing this apron and collar…” Dallimeze took the apron off and
tossed it into the laundry basket. Caramyn laughed at his realization.

“I was wondering when you were going to notice.” She smirked.

“You do some wonderfully awful things to my mind, Caramyn… I wouldn’t have it any other
way.” He said.

“Every day with you is a gift, Dalli. Thank you for choosing to be my husband.” She smiled.

“You’re the only one I would ever choose to marry.” His tentacles curled. He patted her head
with a tentacle. “I’m going to finish cleaning up my mess now. Do you want anything else?”

“I’m going to bed after cleaning up from dinner. It’s a little silly but, I like it when you tuck
me in…” Saying such things actually embarrassed her a bit, but Dallimeze never judged her
for them.

“Sure thing, honey. I’ll be in as soon as I can.” Dallimeze agreed.

It was true that he would choose to marry her and that she was the only one he would ever be
betrothed to. Even though it was an accident during the enthrallment process, he was very
happy he decided to keep Caramyn in his life. He would do everything in his power to make
that fantasy in her mind feel like a reality…
 Erotic Dominance Tournament: Finals! Vizaness VS A Breeder
Named Slisskbax
Chapter Summary

It's the final match of the high tier Erotic Dominance Tournament! Can Vizaness find the
creed-master's weakness?

“Are you doing alright, Mistress?” Kalamash checked in with her. Today was the finals of the
high tier erotic dominance tournament. She looked up at Kalamash with his platinum collar.

“I’m perfect!” She lied. She was admittedly nervous to be going against her boss. She knew
she wouldn’t be punished for winning. She remembered perhaps a bit more than she let on
about him. She knew he was the one who ceremorphed her. She had been in love with him
when she was a sun elf. Did he ceremorph her because he wanted her to evolve? Or did he
just want her distanced from him?

It wasn’t something she liked to think about. It made her feel broken inside. Like something
was wrong with her. “It’s okay to be nervous. I am.” Kalamash said. How did he figure out
she was lying!? He almost never figures it out! He held her close and she felt herself sink into
his embrace. She didn’t have to worry about impressing her boss anymore. She had
Kalamash, Valdran and Elzaphir. She had all she could ever want right here in the strong
arms of one of her favorite thralls.

“It'll be fine. I remember our promise at the start of this tournament.” Vizaness assured him.
Angel would be a formidable foe. Angel and Shogala regularly went head to head in these
erotic dominance battles, often wrestling with each other in the nude covered in oil.
Kalamash wasn’t fond of something like that, often worried about accidentally hurting the
other thrall, but he did like watching such non-lethal matches. Wrestling was a big sport
among his father’s tribe.

Selessk and A Breeder Named Slisskbax were tied five for five, but thanks to Vizaness,
Selessk would not get to officially settle that score this year. Vebeva sat close to Zusrall in
preparation for the final match. She was on the right of him, and his thrall was kept on the
left away from her thralls. “I’d say there’s no way your thrall can misbehave today, but we’ll
see what trouble they get themselves into today.” She teased. Zusrall wrapped a tentacle
around his thrall’s collar. Oceana was sitting next to Zusrall’s thrall, smirking at them.
“Are we going to behave ourselves today?” Zusrall asked his thrall.

“Weeelll… That depends.” They covered their mouth to hide a mischievous grin.

“Depends!? On what??” Zusrall demanded to know.

“On how the match goes. If it’s too boring or too exciting then I won’t really be thinking
about touching myself… But if someone slips me some of that new aphrodisiac recipe, then I
won’t be able to help myself.” His thrall replied honestly. Zusrall sighed.

“What am I going to do with you?” He shook his head. Uopheress was sitting next to them
and giggled at their answer. Her prized thrall was a brawny gold dragonborn named Ildrex.

“You better watch out, Zusrall. Ildrex gets bored rather easily.” She warned him.

Zusrall had a feeling they’d be getting into trouble again today. Their thrall poked their
fingers together. “I’ll do my very best to be good today! I promise.” They said.

“I’m sure you will.” Zusrall released their collar, his tentacles curling smugly. They knew
they would need to deal with any consequences of their actions if they were a bad thrall.

The remaining competitors were called to the arena. A different announcer from last round
was up hosting. “Welcome everyone, to the finals of the High Tier Erotic Dominance
Tournament! It’s The Breeding Pen’s favorite creed-master, A Breeder Named Slisskbax!”
The announcer enthusiastically began introducing the competitors. “And arriving to
challenge the creed-master is our mind-blowing newcomer, Vizaness!”

Vizaness took a deep breath as she entered the arena, which was really just A Breeder Named
Slisskbax’s bedroom, with Kalamash. “Aww, I was hoping to beat Shogala again!” Angel,
Kalamash’s aasimar opponent, pouted. “Don’t cry if you lose, okay?” Angel taunted
Kalamash. The small vestigial wings on her back flapped a little as she grew eager to knock
these newcomers down a few pegs!

“I won’t. We’re going to do our best.” Kalamash was undisturbed by Angel.

“Best of luck to you, Vizaness.” A Breeder Named Slisskbax said. He was showing good
sportsmanship. It was a stark contrast to the sort of trash talking he would reserve for Selessk.
Unlike Angel, he wasted no words on taunting his opponent.
“Let the final match begin!” The announcer called. Angel went straight into it, kneeling
before him and fondling his genitals. His semi erect shaft was slowly growing harder in her
hands.

Zusrall decided to engage Oceana in some conversation since Vebeva usually didn’t want to
hear about erotic dominance meta from her. “So what’s their usual strategy?” He asked her.

“Angel and A Breeder Named Slisskbax’s whole thing is that Angel really likes crazy,
complex, dangerous and hard to perform positions. She likes making her opponent really
work to please her. This usually leaves their opponents feeling too tired and frustrated to
continue.” Oceana explained.

“We’ve seen Kalamash’s endurance first hand. I think our creed-master has an even match to
contend with.” Zusrall admitted. “And honestly, Vizaness’ libido is as insatiable as her
thralls.” Zusrall noted.

“Like yours isn't?” His thrall snickered.

“Oh, hush. Why do you think I started letting you use your hands at home?” Zusrall said. His
thrall gave a nervous chuckle, poking their fingers together.

Meanwhile, Angel was jerking Kalamash off. He was fully erect in her hand “Wow. You’re as
big as Ildrex… I haven’t gotten to play with him yet, so I guess you can be my practice
round!” Angel grinned.

“Awfully spunky, isn’t she?” Vizaness remarks. “Let’s see how spunky she is with this!”
Vizaness said. Kalamash felt himself gently pressing the tip of his cock against her lips.

“Oh…!” Angel gave the tip of his cock a kiss before taking it into her mouth. She eagerly
began slobbering on the half orc’s cock. Kalamash gripped the back of her head, keeping his
cock in her mouth. Vizaness made him hold her head down, stuffing her cock down his
throat. Vizaness purred, feeling the other thrall taking Kalamash’s cock with ease.

“Damn, she’s pretty well trained!” Vizaness remarks, making Kalamash thrust in and out of
her mouth.

“Of course she is! You thought her kickboxing mentor didn’t have other jobs?” A Breeder
Named Slisskbax remarked. It was a shame he was put in the infirmary from his last stunt,
but Angel helped make it up to him during the hobgoblin’s recovery. Kalamash released her,
allowing her to breathe.

“Hah… More!” She groaned.

“I think you’re worked up enough, Angel. Let’s get down to business, shall we?” A Breeder
Named Slisskbax suggested.

Kalamash grabbed Angel’s head once more, and the aasimar opened her mouth, allowing him
to stuff his cock back into her mouth. She moaned with delight as she sucked on his hard
shaft. She wanted so badly to touch her wet pussy but A Breeder Named Slisskbax held her
hands back through his willpower.

“I do apologize. Kalamash is quite receptive to partners that beg for him.” Vizaness said
smugly, as if she weren’t the one guiding her thrall’s actions. She and Kalamash were
practically moving as one.

A Breeder Named Slisskbax just let it happen. He knew which battles to pick and this wasn't
one of them. Angel would tap out any moment now as long as he didn’t let her please herself
yet. Not even ten seconds later did his prediction come true and she tapped out. A Breeder
Named Slisskbax was left panting softly. “Good tentacled lord! The Choking Hazard really
was a fitting nickname for him! Angel deserves some kudos for that.” A Breeder Named
Slisskbax remarked.

Angel gathered some pillows, propping herself up against the headboard of the bed. “Come
on, this’ll be really fun!” Angel encouraged. Angel laid on her side, bending her arm and leg
to support her lifted body. She raised the second, straight leg and propped it on the half-orc’s
shoulder. Kalamash knelt so that Angel’s bent leg was between his thighs. He grabbed her
raised leg by the shin. He entered her, as the two of them grabbed each other by the hips and
buttocks.

“Angel’s signature play. I know it well.” Vizaness told her thrall. “We’ve got this
Kalamash!”

“Sex position number 476, The Harp! It’s called that ‘cause the receiving partner looks like
they’re being played like a harp! It allows for deep penetration. I hope Angel knows what
she’s doing…” Oceana points out.

“Whuh?? How many are there?!” Zusrall’s thrall asked in shock.

“The breeding manual has 512.” Oceana says.

“Wha?? Is that really true, Master?” The thrall asked their master. Zusrall blushed, rubbing a
finger against his pale cheek.

“Contributions from various breeders, since our Elder Brain doesn’t really like looking at
that kind of thing, or recalling that information. You thralls aren’t really supposed to look at
those manuals. They’re for research and educational purposes, but I suppose there’s not
really any harm in it…” Zusrall answered.

“Let’s start off gentle. Our opponent isn’t used to you yet…” Vizaness told him. Even if this
was a duel, the goal wasn’t to hurt their opponent.

“Ah… Yes, Mistress…” Kalamash softly moaned. Just like Eiravel, he wasn’t putting his all
into it yet.

“A-ahn! He’s so thick, Master!” Angel moaned.

“Hrrngh… If you did your training, there shouldn’t be any problem…” A Breeder Named
Slisskbax said. He knows damn well how Kalamash operates, since he’s the one who
approved his position as an escort. That didn’t stop him from being surprised.

“Psst. Hey Ildrex.” Oceana whispers to him. “Angel said you’re as big as Kalamash. Mind if
we take a look and compare?” She proposed.

“Hmm…” The brawny gold dragonborn thought about it. “Mistress. Mind if I show off to
these two?” He quietly asked Uopheress.

“Go right ahead, my favored thrall.” Uopheress blamed only herself for their loss in the first
round. If he wanted to have fun to make up for it, he should be able to.

Ildrex lifted up his robes, revealing himself to the other thralls. He began stroking himself.
Zusrall’s thrall sheepishly watched. They found themselves stealing glances at it. “Want to
lend a hand?” Oceana whispered to Zusrall’s thrall.

“I want to but I’ll get punished.” They whispered back.

“Did he say you couldn’t use your mouth?” She replied.

“Well, no, but I’m pretty sure I’ll get punished for that too…” They said.

“You really want to, don’t you?” Oceana giggled.

They got their master’s attention, giving them the puppy dog eyes. “Can I play with Ildrex?
Please? Pretty please?” They pouted.

“That face doesn’t work on me, but nice try.” Zusrall said, making them whimper. “If his
mistress is fine with it, then sure.” He relented. At least they held out as long as they could
and asked for permission.
“Thanks, Master!” Their thrall hugged him warmly. They draped over Oceana, reaching out
to feel the texture of the dragonborn’s cock.

“My thralls aren’t the only ones that are a bad influence, it seems.” Vebeva remarked.

“I’ll be telling your mistress about your bad behavior, Oceana.” Zusrall threatened.

“She’ll probably tell you it’s your fault for putting me next to your thrall or something.”
Oceana said, shrugging. She called Zusrall out on his bluff. He didn’t let it show that she was
right.

“She also gave me permission to spank you.” He lied.

“No, I’m sorry, sir!” She catipulated to the threat of being spanked. Zusrall darkly chuckled.

Meanwhile in the arena, Angel was a whimpering mess, her eyes rolling back, but her master
was stubbornly holding on. “Oh fuck, he’s so deep…” She squeaked. “Gods, yes! It’s so
good!” Angel moaned. “I want to feel him cum in me so bad, A Breeder Named Slisskbax!
Please can I be your cum receptacle??” She called her master by his full name to get brownie
points.

“Fuck yes, take it, Angel!” He encouraged her.

Selessk was watching the match from the doorway. She wasn’t even allowed to say anything
to A Breeder Named Slisskbax until after the match was over. Her insults and trash talk
would have to wait until later. “Looks like Slissy’s going to need a better strategy this time.”
She thought to herself, arms crossed as she watched the match.

“He’s incredible, isn’t he?” Shogala sighed dreamily.

“I guess, but I’ve already decided on Valdran as your mate.” Selessk said.

“Don’t suppose I could change your mind?” Shogala asked.

“No.” She said bluntly. “Valdran has bred plenty of worthy warriors! What’s wrong with
Valdran? Are you saying you have a problem with my decision?” Selessk’s eyes narrowed at
her thrall.

“Your choice is logical and tactful. I just find his attempts at trying to breed me to be
pathetic.” Shogala says.

“Perhaps you’d like Kalamash’s company as a reward for putting up with Valdran?” Selessk
attempted to compromise.
“An acceptable payment for my services.” Shogala the grand nodded with a smirk on her
face. “You wanna share him?” She asked her mistress. Her tentacles curled subtly, betraying
the essence of amusement.

“Perhaps… You know my type well.” Selessk responded.

Their attention turned to Kalamash pounding Angel, grunting as his semen filled her pussy.
“Ah… Fuck yes!” Angel smiled as she slowly flopped onto the bed. She slowly sat up after
squirming towards the middle of the bed. “Ready for round two?” She asked Kalamash.

“Are you?” He smirked. He pinned her to the moss, looking down at her to gauge her
reaction.

“Whatever you’ve got, bring it on!” Angel challenged him.

She expected rough, impersonal yet self gratifying sex. What Angel hadn’t prepared for was
wild and passionate. Kalamash kissed her neck. She gasped, not used to it. She didn’t kiss
people very often, but he made her feel starved for it. She pulled him into a passionate kiss
against his lips. A Breeder Named Slisskbax’s face suddenly turned pale. What was that
feeling Angel was feeling!? How was Vizaness able to do this to him again even after he
ceremorphed her!? The feeling only got worse with every kiss. Angel felt her body heating
up, eager for more. He was accidentally sending her lust spiraling out of control!

Angel’s mind was completely empty as he entered her once more. She was wrapping her legs
around him, pulling him deep inside. Angel began to feel harmony in the closeness and
tenderness. A Breeder Named Slisskbax was becoming more and more undone.

“Sex position number 29. Harmony! Wow, what astonishing intimacy!” Oceana
commentates.

“Do you really go out of your way to memorize this stuff…?” Vebeva asked, sounding
unimpressed. Whim was snickering at his mistress’ comment to her.

“Well, yes? This stuff’s an important part of a courtesan’s education!” Oceana says.

“Oh ho ho ho ho! Well, it looks like the squire is on her way to becoming a knight…” Vebeva
remarked in an amused tone.

“Yes! Good boy! Finish her off!” Vizaness mentally cheers. Kalamash continued dutifully as
she moaned with fervent desire. Angel made eye contact with him. There was some sort of
undeniable magnetism between them. She knew she’d probably end up “fighting” with
Shogala over this one. She quivered as he made love to her. A Breeder Named Slisskbax
couldn’t let everyone know how weak these feelings made him. He had to hang on. “A-
aaah!!” She came on his cock, and milked his cum into her divine pussy.

“A Breeder Named Slisskbax has fallen off! Vizaness is the winner!! What an incredible
match!” The announcer declared. As embarrassed as he was, the creed-master still had his
duties to perform, which he knew he had to perform cordially. She knew what had happened
and she shoved the stray memory of her host and the creed-master back into a dark space in
her mind. She won because of her bond with Kalamash. She didn’t need anything else. It
didn’t have to be any deeper than that.

“You have my congratulations, Vizaness. For managing to defeat me, you have earned your
place in the Erotic Dominance hall of fame.” He handed her a jar of mindgates as her prize
money, 20 of them. “Furthermore, Kalamash is now eligible for breeding with high profile
clients, should you choose to reverse his sterilization.” He informed her.

“Don’t get any ideas, Shogala.” Selessk side eyed her thrall.

“Thank you, A Breeder Named Slisskbax.” She humbly accepted her prize. She couldn’t
really think of anything else to say. She allowed herself to be distracted by the audience, only
to see Oceana getting off to Zusrall’s thrall riding Ildrex in their seat, the thrall covering their
mouth to try and keep quiet. Ildrex’s tongue was hanging out of their mouth as he clearly
enjoyed using them. “Really?” Her tentacles curled as she shook her head.

“This is your thrall’s fault this time.” Zusrall said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My thralls are never poorly behaved.” Vizaness
said.

A Breeder Named Slisskbax left for a quieter room to decompress away from everyone.
Angel understood that when her master lost, she was to leave him alone. Her job was to
mingle with the guests and keep them entertained. Selessk waited until he was alone to taunt
him. “Aww, poor Slissy can’t handle getting kissy.” She teased.

“Bitch, what the fuck? You lost too! You lost first so I technically won our little score…”

“You didn’t win either!” Selessk retorted.

“I suppose you would like to settle this later?” A Breeder Named Slisskbax offered.

“Anytime, but it’s going in our official score.” She said.

“You’re on.” A Breeder Named Slisskbax accepted. He wouldn’t let her tease him.
Vizaness got Kalamash to pick Oceana up. “Aww… The post game show was just getting
good, Mistress!” Oceana whined.

“There will be plenty of celebration at my place. You and Vebeva are invited.” Vizaness
invited her closest confidants.

“J-just a bit more… Please…” Zusrall’s thrall pleaded.

“We’ll catch up…” Zusrall accepted.

“Shall I assist in catering, Mistress?” Whim asked.

“What an excellent idea, Whim!” Vebeva said.

There had been something terrifying about confronting those old memories and yet, with
Kalamash, the pain became lighter, and she could do anything with him…
 Returning to Sanctuary
Chapter Summary

After bullying some kobold's and getting a few months worth of brains for Addanil to
eat, the party returns to Selpt victoriously with their treasures!

All that remained was stocking up on brains for Addanil. He’d be set for nearly a year on
their brains if he conserved them. Thankfully, kobolds were his favorite thing to eat, even if
they were pickled. They came across Mogs on their way to pay the rest of the tribe a visit.
“Hey! How’d the meeting with the duke go?” Mogs asked. Addanil could easily kill this lone
kobold but you had wanted him to spare Mogs for whatever reason he couldn’t understand.
The pity in your heart for this morsel was one less meal he would have to eat.

“It went well… So well in fact, that I don’t think he’s coming back anytime soon.” Addanil
planned on scaring this one away.

“Huh?? What!?” Mogs was confused. The illithid’s plan was to scare him away. Addanil
removed his hat, dropping all pretense of being a normal human man to him. Mogs screams
as Addanil stretches his tentacles out, revealing several rows of razor sharp teeth while
hissing. The kobold screams and cowers.

“This is the part where you run away…” You whispered to Mogs. The kobold screamed and
fled deeper into the cavern. Addanil laughed to himself as he watched the kobold swim to
safety.

“There. I spared him at your request. Happy?” Addanil asked you.

“Yes. Thank you.” You said and hugged him.

“Are you really alright with showing me affection in front of other people…?” Addanil
blushed.

“They already know and I don’t care what they think.” You said.

“Eugh…” Tavoril made a face.

“Don’t be rude!” Bilban scolded his half-elf friend.

“I especially don’t care what you think.” You side eyed Tavoril.
“So is it really slimy wh-” Tavoril was cut off by Bilban demanding him to stop.

“Ask a mind flayer and find out.” You chuckled. Addanil slapped his palm against his face.

“We’re wasting time…” He said, trying to get everyone back on track.

“Right… The kobolds. I guess if they are causing problems for travelers, it wouldn’t be a bad
idea to thin them out.” You said. It’s no different than what normal adventurers do so it’s not
like they’ll be using those brains anymore…

Your group returned to the castle chambers that lead to the tribe’s hideout. “These are
kobolds so they will likely have some traps…” Addanil pulled Tavoril back from ascending
the stairs. “Like that one. And that one.” He pointed out a thin, nearly invisible wire that
would cause a dagger tied to a crutch to descend from the ceiling, which was just above a
couple of the first steps which were littered with broken glass to slow down any other beasts
and monsters.

“That could kill somebody…” Bilban said. You gave your dagger to Addanil.

“Stay back. I’m going to set it off.” Addanil warned, moving off to the side and cutting the
string. The crutch swung down, stopping in place when it was perpendicular to the ceiling. It
was clearly made for taller folks. Bilban wouldn’t have been harmed by it, but Tavoril would
have been, if Addanil had let him scout ahead. It was sharp and rusty.

“Damn, Tavoril, that would have gotten you right in the head…” You quietly said. He
approached it, tapping the rusty dagger with his short sword’s hilt. Tavoril stepped over,
showing that the blade would have gotten him right in the neck.

“Crafty, aren’t they?” Addanil observed. It would have been a simple but efficient trap, had
they not been observant enough to see it.

“The broken glass must have been a distraction. Very clever…” Tavoril pointed out. They
slowly moved up the stairs. Broken sections were bridged with long planks.

“Those don’t look like they’ll hold anyone heavier than a kobold or Bilban…” You said,
wondering if it was really safe to cross.

“There’s also the matter of hauling all our stuff topside. I don’t know if we really want to
leave it behind to go hunting.” Tavoril brought up a good point.
“I realize I’m going to be doing most of the heavy lifting here.” Addanil said.

“It’s worth it to scout ahead. The kobolds might have other methods of escaping to the
surface. They’re not stupid beasts. They’re bound to have multiple exit plans, right?” Bilban
reasoned.

“A very astute observation.” Addanil agreed.

“It might be safer for Tavoril to hang back for now while we see what’s going on.” You
suggested.

“Alright. I’ll wait here. I'll take my share and run if I hear Bilban screaming though.” Tavoril
said. The half-elf waited, keeping a vigilant watch at the bottom of the stairs.

Addanil dutifully carried you, levitating over the broken steps, while Bilban carefully crossed
the planks, which held under his light weight. A hallway lead to a castle chamber, perhaps
used for storage. At the end of the hall was a single kobold, grumbling about Mogs being a
layabout. You took aim with your crossbow, shooting them dead before they could react.
“One down…” You muttered. Bilban drew his short sword as you and Addanil quietly
approached.

“There’s someone else in there. I hear them breathing.” Addanil told you. “They’re
cornered.”

You realized they were hiding, waiting to ambush you. Probably on either side of the
archway leading into the room. You nodded to Addanil. You’d take one side, he’d take the
other. You both jumped out to look around the corners, getting the jump on your ambusher.
Another kobold was on Addanil’s side.

“Hello.” Addanil greeted, before killing the unprepared kobold with a mind blast.
“Goodbye.” He said.

You gave Bilban the signal that the room was clear. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself
for the grizzly task you would carry out. You took your short sword, lopping off the heads of
the dead kobolds and stuffing them into a sack. “You’re dealing with brain extraction. I’m not
touching that.” You told him.

“I’ve never asked you to.” Addanil pointed out. They inspected the crates.

“Fourteen crossbow bolts, and six bolts of silk. Nice.” You pack up the goods, stealing them.
You left the room and continued onward. There was yet another room, candle light emanating
from it. You tugged at Addanil’s sleeve and silently pointed out another fine wire. It led to
some kind of manual alarm made out of a metal pot lid that would create a lot of noise,
should anyone too tall attempt to waltz into this room. Addanil ducked and floated into the
room. The obvious brains of this tribe was in this room, a kobold inventor that the tribe called
Drak.

Addanil thought it would be a one and done mind blast, but he was unfortunately wrong. You
rushed in, whispering the discordant melody of Dissonant Whispers. The inventing kobold
grabs a flask from his desk, whirling to splash alchemist fire at you. You move your arm to
shield your face, catching the burning liquid on your sleeve. It was set alight, burning you.

Bilban leapt into action, cutting the kobold inventor’s head off with his short sword. Addanil
swiftly removed his cloak, using it to smother the flames before they could become sizable.
There was a small charred hole in your sleeve. “Songbird! You’re hurt!” Addanil lamented.
“Let me see your arm…”

“It’s just a little burn. Seriously, I’ve hurt myself worse trying to cook.” You tell him. You
give him your arm anyway and he carefully pulls up the burnt sleeve.

Addanil sternly inspected the injury. “Well, it doesn’t look that bad, but it’s definitely a
burn…” He said. “Do you still have that crag mushroom lotion I told you to pack?” He
asked. Your eyes widened in realization.

“Oh yes, I forgot about that. I think if I still have it, it’s at the bottom of my bag.” You quietly
replied.

“In the worst case scenario, I can patch them up with my magic.” Bilban offered.

“Drak, have you seen Mogs I think we have intru-” A winged kobold looked at the group.

“Your bandit party is over, Zavi. I’m here for the leftovers.” Addanil stuffed Drak’s head into
the sack of snacks for later.

“It's time to flee, with a mighty stride; a hasty retreat to run and hide!” Zavi casts Expeditious
Retreat, running back into the tunnels they came from.

“Why are you letting them leave?” You asked.

“I actually don’t feel like eating the sorcerer. I don’t like how arcane casters taste.” He said.
He calmly followed Zavi down the tunnels seeing where they went.
It didn’t take long for the merry chase to lead to an open hatch, that led to the into what was
left of the surface castle above. Zavi was long gone. “Oh, look. The way out.” Addanil put
his hat of disguise back on. You shoved the sack of kobold heads into Addanil’s bag. There’s
no way you were carrying that nasty bloody mess in with your things. It took a while to
collect Tavoril and haul everything up the stairs, but Addanil was satisfied with at least
getting a few months worth of brains. The inventor would be most delicious, and he almost
wanted to eat his brain fresh. He knew he had to conserve what he had to the best of his
ability.

"You sly dog. You were scaring them off to find the exit, weren't you?" You grinned.

"But of course! I am a genius after all..." He lied. You held back a giggle, knowing he was
lying. It just worked out that way.

“You know he did save your bacon with that one trap, even though he doesn’t like you.”
Bilban pointed out as your group brought the last of the treasure.

“I was actually surprised he did that.” You said.

“Oh please, If anyone else in the hamlet found out I was an illithid it would only cast even
more suspicion on me if he didn’t come back alive.” Addanil made an excuse for his
altruism.

“I think I’m rubbing off on you.” You smiled.

“Nonsense…” Addanil blushed. Tavoril was settled on keeping this all a secret. He couldn’t
be that bad if he went out of his way to keep him safe. This mind flayer did seem to care
about their traveling companion quite a bit.

Everything was loaded up into the wagon and Addanil urged the horses along. “Woah! You
guys got quite a pay day! There was a dragon down there??” Aseir was in pleasant disbelief
at their luck.

“We managed to scare it away! Turns out that deep dragons value their lives more than their
hoards.” Bilban said. You stopped a safe distance away from the dungeon, pulling over on the
road.

“Please give us some time to appraise everything and we’ll uphold making sure that everyone
gets a fair share.” You requested.
“Let’s make a picnic of it! I packed sweet nibbles and turnovers.” Bilban offered to share his
food. You picked up a jar containing a preserved illithid tadpole.

“Eugh…” Addanil’s illusory face wore an expression of disgust.

“I’m sure some scholar would think this is interesting, but I kind of want to throw it away…
Anyone want it?” You offered it to someone else.

“No.” Aseir said bluntly.

“Pass…” Tavoril said.

“Not really…?” Bilban grimaced. You threw the jar into the treeline, never to be seen again.

There were some embroidered pillows with designs of wyrmlings on it. “Tavoril can have a
souvenir. Ames doesn’t care too much for selling furnishings and home goods, since it’s
harder to move them.” You said. You open a fine wooden box that you found in the display
cabinet, and inside were two pots of pigments. “Nolzur’s Marvelous Pigments!” You gasped,
recognizing the magic item without fail.

“We’re keeping those.” Addanil quickly said.

“Oh that makes sense. Afterall, our bard is a painter.” Bilban agreed.

“I typically don’t believe in fate, but I do believe in coincidences… Shall we go back to

Yuncharr’s Usefuls for those painting supplies?” Addanil asked you.

You smiled and nodded at the thought of painting again, lightly clutching the closed box to
your chest. Despite everything, you still loved your art, because he loved it with genuine
appreciation. Next, Addanil effortlessly appraised the gemstones. Appraisal was a skill he
was good at, but gemstones were his forte. Four of them were worth 50 gold pieces. Five of
them were worth 100. Of the stones, Addanil kept a lovely blue moonstone and a crimson
coral, shades of red being his favorite color. He gave you a piece of golden amber. Bilban
took a yellow citrine and a piece of amber which had ants trapped within. Tavoril got two
chrysoprase gems in translucent green and Aseir was given a black onyx and an opaque black
jet.

In addition, there was a bag of holding, given to the merchant and his bard. There was also a
scroll. “A scroll of protection from undead.” Bilban said.

“Well that would have been nice to have earlier!” Addanil said.

“Here. You’ll want this more than we will.” Bilban chuckled, giving him the scroll.
Addanil claimed a golden bangle for you and you playfully placed a bronze crown upon his
head. “A crown for the king.” You smiled softly. Addanil thought back fondly to the start of
this journey, to the space in your mind that he brought you to. Both objects were worth a total
of 275 gold pieces.

“Aw, geeze, come on you lovebirds. Finish counting the coins, please.” Aseir requested.
Addanil rolled his eyes.

“R-right…” You said, getting back on track.

There was a total 7143 gold pieces in various coins. Everyone received 45 platinum pieces,
900 gold pieces, 4250 silver pieces, and 1075 copper pieces. “Alright now we’re getting
somewhere!” Addanil’s illusory face had a genuine smile on it. Everything was split up and
everyone gathered what belonged to them.

“Heeey, can you drop me off at my place last?” Tavoril asked. He clearly wanted to keep his
dad from yelling at him as long as possible.

“Best I can do is second.” Addanil said. Tavoril groaned. “Man up and deal with your
problems. You’re a grown man, aren’t you?” Addanil quirked an eyebrow on his illusory
face.

He dropped Aseir off first. Aseir lived with his widowed mother and Tavoril helped him carry
his share of the treasure in since there was a large tapestry in the hoard. Next Addanil
dropped off Tavoril and his things, not sticking around for any potential family drama. Bilban
thankfully lived by himself so they would get all the privacy they needed to pickle the three
brains he had into jars.

“After you complete this task, we’ll be leaving. It’s not safe for us to stay in one place for
long.” Addanil informed him. He began the grizzly task of extracting the brains from their
skulls himself out of their view.

“It takes a day for me to do this, so you might want to stick around just a bit longer.” Bilban
said.

“We greatly appreciate all you’re doing for us, Bilban. Truly, thank you for being so kind to
us.” You told the halfling.

“You’re just people who are doing your best. I can’t fault you for that. Besides, the adventure
was more exciting than the usual trip out of the hamlet. That’s the greatest payment of all to
me.” Bilban smiled.
“I’ll never forget you guys…” You gave him a bitter sweet smile.

“Well, if you don’t mind me tagging along…” Bilban trailed off.

“Okay, but why though?” Addanil asked, genuinely confused.

“I think it’s about time I get back on the road to see new things. That’s all.” Bilban said. Oh
great, now they had someone interested in following them. It was at least better than having a
foe. You looked at Addanil, saying nothing but worried he would be rude.

“Besides myself, you seem to be the closest thing that Songbird has to a friend. If they’re
alright with it, you may join us as long as you respect our privacy…” Addanil relented. He
did like the idea of someone able to help you if you got hurt again.

“I’m not interested in seeing any of that. Nothing to worry about there!” Bilban chuckled.

“I wouldn’t have a problem with it. Bilban seems nice enough. Besides, he’s the only one
who knows how to preserve your meals. As long as we can continue paying him, I think it’s a
beneficial business partnership.” You weighed in. “Welcome to our team!” You extended a
handshake to him.

You bid farewell to Bilban for the day, agreeing to see him tomorrow. Your plans for the rest
of the day consisted of visiting Yuncharr’s Usefuls, getting dinner at the tavern, and turning
in for the night at the inn. Despite the early hurdles you endured, you were thankful that you
had one new friend, new wealth and new hope…
 Just Another Morning in Selpt
Chapter Summary

Sleepy morning sex with Addanil before you leave Selpt for new frontiers.

Addanil awoke with a groan. “Addy? Are you alright?” You mumbled.

“Who’s Addy??” Addanil was confused.

“Well, you gave me a cute nickname so…” You trailed off. Addanil blushed at that
nickname.

“Just don’t call me that in front of Bilban.” He said.

“Aww. Does it embarrass you?” You teased him.

“Of course it does!” He side-eyed you.

“Is it worse than 'Daddy’?” You smirked.

“Oh no, ‘Daddy’ is far worse!” He replied. You giggled quietly. “As for your first question,
I’m quite sore from all that lifting I did yesterday…”

“Damn, I guess we did end up working hard yesterday.” You smiled. “I think it was worth it
though. I think you handled those skeletons really well, all things considered.” You sounded
happy with yourself.

“Well I have a bone to pick with you.” Addanil said. You softly snorted at his pun.

“Oh? What would that be?” You asked, warmth in your voice. Addanil laid back down,
covering up.

“Thanks to your impulsively adventurous spirit, I’m sore and I’m cold and now I don’t want
to get out of bed.” He teasingly blamed you for his plight. He wrapped his arms and tentacles
around you, spooning with you. “And then I had to go shopping immediately afterwards
instead of resting.” During his shopping trip at Yuncharr’s Usefuls, he was able to get you a
new dress shirt and the painter’s supplies. Everything cost him a total of 12 gold pieces.
“No one said you had to come with me.” You pointed out with a smirk. “But I’m glad you
did.” You placed your hand upon his.

“I have no regrets.” He said. Addanil allowed you to turn and face him. You leaned in,
pressing your forehead to his.

“Even if you’re not used to hard labor?” You teased him.

“I guess I could exercise a bit more, but I’m expecting you to train me.” Addanil wasn’t
afraid to admit that he prefers other people to do the hard work for him. He also learned that
crawling around in dungeons was hard work and it would have been made a lot harder
without his help.

“I’ll show you some stretches sometimes.” You winked. Sometimes during your downtime,
you would do nude yoga to stay fit. Addanil had watched you perform what he thought was
some ritual a few times, but you were never aware of it. He was too vexed to ask about it.

“Oh. That’s what you were doing… Exercising.” He accidentally told on himself in his sleepy
state. Your cheeks turned pink when you realized what he was referring to.

“I apologize for attempting to enter your room without knocking. I was just so… Hypnotized
by the sight of you. It was confusing yet entrancing. I couldn’t quite understand how I felt
about it.” He realized it was a violation of your privacy, and you felt his guilt in his tone. You
kissed him and held him reassuringly.

“It’s alright. I’m not angry with you. To be honest, I probably would have invited you to try it
had you made your presence known.” You admitted. You wonder what would have really
happened.

Such what ifs about the past didn’t matter to Addanil. All he cared about was now. Right now
you were his light, his sunshine, his songbird. There was little way he could have
manipulated your heart to feel like this. He didn’t even know what a kiss was! You realized
his tentacles were slowly reaching under your night clothes. “Are you alright with me
initiating this kind of touch?” He asked you.

“Yes.” You whispered. You were still tired but his touch was warm, and lit a comforting
hearth in your loins. “You know this probably won’t help you get out of bed.” You smirked.

“Who cares if we miss mediocre breakfast at the Bucket and Basilisk?” He asked. You pulled
off your clothing, shoving them onto the floor.
“Let’s stay in bed for just a bit longer, then.” You whispered to him in a husky voice.
Addanil’s tentacles and hands grew more adventurous.

He teased your nipples with his hands and tentacles. “You’re so beautiful… I’m so fortunate
to share these experiences with you.” He said. You closed your eyes, sinking ever deeper into
lust. You had forgotten about it, possibly forced to forget it, but you had once wanted to be
intimate with Yorix. The thought no longer crossed your mind. Addanil had nothing but
disgust for the way your former master treated you.

You let Addanil cherish you, giving him access to your loins of your own free will. You were
still sleepy but you wanted him. “I want you…” You made your desire known to him in
breathy whispers.

“Say it again. Let me hear you.” He softly pleaded with you. Hearing your enthusiasm for
his touch caused the warmth within him to swell.

“A-ah… I want you. I want you so badly.” You told him a bit louder. You grabbed one of his
tentacles, guiding it below your waist and to your genitals.

“Actions do speak louder than words...” He began rubbing the tentacle against you. You
found yourself relaxing into it, letting him pleasure you. You gave slow, sleepy kisses and
licks to one of his tentacles. He snapped you out of your pleasured daze with a question. “Do
you want me inside you?” He rubbed a tentacle against your entrance, asking for an
invitation.

You didn’t need to say a single word. Your mind and body all screamed with a resounding
‘Yes’. You let out a moan as he plunged his tentacle into you while continuing to rub against
your sensitive spots. You felt yourself shudder as he filled you, letting out a needy groan. He
could feel how you ached for him. You reached for his hand, holding it as you deepened your
connection to him.

The mind of an illithid was an incomprehensible thing to connect with but the depths of yours
wasn’t without its complexities. You pulled each other even deeper. He noticed that both of
you were tinted gray, floating in a gray aether. It was a slightly warmer, more yellow tint than
simple gray. You were surrounded by suspended splatters of bright color. It was the colors
your love produced. It was a lively green. It was bright yellow. It was ambitiously purple. It
was intelligently and sincerely blue. It was optimistically orange and passionately red.
You rubbed your hand over his chest and kissed a tentacle passionately, leaving a trail of
bright purple on his chest and red upon his tentacle. You both became a canvas for each other
to paint with love. Every touch from Addanil left behind effortless lines, splotches and rings
of color on your body. It was fascinating. It was beautiful. It was exhilarating as your
erogenous zones became the most colorful places on your bodies. He may not be your master
anymore, but he would always be your muse.

Words became color and color became feeling. He pulled your focus deeper onto him. You
couldn’t perceive anything else and you didn’t want to. You felt him coloring your entire
being, and you colored his. His tentacles and your fingertips became paint brushes in an
intimate artistic expression. There wasn’t a care between the two of you. Nobody else was
checked into the inn today but you two and you felt so good.

It was a sensation that was completely unique to the two of you, which couldn’t be replicated
by anyone. The paint of your love and your application of it was incredibly genuine. He
continued, filling you with his love. In return he was filled and painted completely with
yours. Your face grew redder as you came ever closer. It all released at once, cumming hard
with him. He didn’t bother trying to muffle you or himself. “Ah… Ah… Aaah… Holy…
Wow…” You panted as you laid on your back and stared at the ceiling with wide eyes. “What
was that...?” You asked in a daze, a big goofy smile on your face.

Addanil held you close. You were covered in his slime. All the colors of your perception
were once again normal. He was too dazed to respond. You wrapped your arm around him.
You knew he definitely needed to recover from that. “I think it was… Something Yorix called
a mind dance? Something some of the Possessor Creed illithids from the destroyed colony in
the Sword Coast apparently experienced, but I thought he was merely insane when he
mentioned wanting to try to experience that himself.” Addanil said.

“Oh gods! With me?? What a mind failure… What did he think his plan was?? Ew.” You
said. Addanil’s tentacles curled, laughing at your comments on your old owner.

“It was… Wonderful. It's as if my mind, fully stripped free of anxiety, was reset to a positive
equilibrium.” He talked about it.

“I did enjoy it immensely with you. It was…” How could you even describe it?

“You have a beautifully sincere & introspective manner of thought. It was a delight to
comprehend.” Addanil pressed his forehead against yours.
You kissed him one last time before he resorted to using his own night clothes to clean you
up. You cast Prestidigitation to clean them. You peeked out the window to get a gauge of
what time it was. It was still morning. Were you willing to risk a late breakfast at the Bucket
and Basilisk? You flopped back onto the bed, stretching.

“You could get breakfast before we go to Bilban’s home. I’m sure he’ll understand.” Addanil
said.

“And eat cold sausage? I think not. If he’s leaving with us, Bilban might be willing to make
us breakfast, and you can eat without being sneaky.” You reasoned.

“A good point…” He got your clothing for you, handing them to you.

“Thank you.” You wanted to set a good example for him. You fix your hair and cover his
scent on your skin with your perfume. It smelled floral, and light with notes of daffodil,
citrus, honey and moss.

Addanil put on his clothing and hat of disguise. It was a chilly morning. The sky was clear
and there was a gentle breeze. After you packed up your things. Today would be your last
time checking out of Tattercloaks. You returned the key to Malorie, thanking her for her
hospitality. You loaded everything up and took your wagon to Bilban’s house. You knocked
on the door. “Hey, Bilban! Are you awake?” You called. Bilban answered the door after
several moments.

“Good morning! Come on in!” The halfling had a friendly tone as he let you into his home.

He went into his kitchen. He had a basket of three pickled brains in jars, all securely packed.
“Uh… Here’s your meals… Speaking of which, did you have breakfast?” He asked. Addanil
took the basket.

“Nope. I wasn’t risking another mediocre meal…” You said.

“Well you’re in luck! I don’t have any sausage but I do have some honey nut cake!” He put
one on a plate and handed it to you. “I’ve got some bacon for you. I just have to throw some
in the pan for you.”

You took a bite of the cake. “This is pretty good!” You complimented him.

“Thanks! It’s my pa’s recipe!” Bilban replied. He began cooking eggs and bacon for Addanil.
The illithid in human disguise sat at his kitchen table. “So where do you plan on going next?”
He asked, cracking eggs into the pan.
“Do you think Dapplegate would be a good stop?” Addanil asked. He continued using his
voice box with Bilban, even though the halfling knew the truth. He didn’t wish to startle
anyone not used to his telepathic communication.

“Well, it’s not very exciting to adventurers like myself but for merchants like you, it’s one of
the best places you can go. Many of the shops are open all day and all night long.” Bilban
said.

“You could possibly shop when it’s more comfortable for your eyesight.” You said.

“Oh, those coins are already burning a hole in your pocket aren’t they??” Addanil teased you.
Every time you were in a marketplace, you often never failed to want something from the
market and give Addanil some convincing puppy dog eyes. He often capitulated to it.

“There’s no me about it. I only buy necessities. It sounds an awful lot like you want to go
shopping.” He chuckled. You chuckled.

“Maybe I do enjoy a bit of shopping…” You smiled shyly.

Bilban went to his room and returned, tossing you a scroll case. You opened it to reveal a
map of The Border Kingdoms. “Alright, so we’d be taking The Scelptar Road over
Burntbridges, going through Blackbarn and Gallard…” You said.

“It’ll take us about 6 or 7 days to make the journey then. Would be simpler if there was a
bridge between Selpt and Dapplegate, but it looks like the river’s too wide to ford.” Addanil
said.

“I just skipped all that and swam across the Scelptarmouth.” Bilban admitted.

“Are you insane??” Addanil asked.

“You’re a mad lad, Bilban!” You said.

“You know my family asked me the same question. Maybe? Adventuring does require a bit
of risk.” Bilban answered as he plopped Addanil’s breakfast on a plate. “Don’t worry, I won’t
stare at you while you eat.” Bilban assured him as he gave him a fork and his food.

“As long as you don’t do anything stupid to inconvenience us, I guess it’s fine.” Addanil tried
to eat his food as politely as possible.

“I’m not totally suicidal.” Bilban chuckled.

“You know, it’s actually nice, being able to eat again without scarfing it down…” He casually
noted.

“I guess it can be hard to do something as simple as eating when you’re an illithid on the
surface…” Bilban felt a little sorry for him. You were stuffing your face with the honey nut
cake, but you silently wondered if Addanil would be alright.

“It feels strange being pitied. I had to earn everything I’ve ever had. Nobody in the
Underdark hands you anything just because they felt sorry for you.” Addanil said.

“That sounds kind of sad…” Bilban said. Addanil finished his plate.

“That’s just the way a merchant’s life is. Nothing is free. Everything has a cost.” Addanil
said. Bilban didn’t really know if that was true, but didn’t bother to debate philosophy as they
packed their things into the covered wagon.

“Do you have any unfinished business before we leave? I’m not turning around if you forgot
anything.” Addanil warned Bilban.

“I managed to say goodbye to Aseir. Tavoril’s parents were fighting so I didn’t talk much to
him, but I’m going to leave my home to Tavoril.” Bilban said.

Once Addanil was satisfied that everything was taken care of, the trio began heading east
towards new locales and towns unknown.

“Our bond also has a cost, but it’s one I would pay unfathomably many times over…” He
mentally confided in you.

“You’re excellent and expensive. I wouldn't have it any other way.” You responded, leaning
against him as you left Selpt behind…
 Double Playdate
Chapter Summary

Some shameless after work group sex between the innkeeper Srebral, Lesk the
vigileator, Brilanna and Maybelle.

It was the end of another work day. Maybelle hung up her apron and was getting ready to turn
in for the night. “Maybelle? Can I see you in my office for a minute?” Srebral requested.

“Coming, sir!” Maybelle called, going into his office. She shut the door behind her. “What
can I do for you?”

“Maybelle, did you, and I quote, ask Brilanna for a ‘Double Playdate’?” He asked, doing air
quotes with his fingers on the last two words.

“I did. Why?” Maybelle blinked, wondering why this was relevant. Did she make a decision?

Srebral’s cheeks turned pale, blushing at her honesty. He covered his face with his tentacles,
letting out a soft gurgled groan. He takes a deep breath and releases it. “Maybelle, you can’t
say things like that to your coworkers…” He quietly scolded her. With her, his anger was far
subdued. Cool disbelief, mixed with a patience that flowed like a cool early spring creek.

“Why not?” Maybelle tilted her head in confusion. “That’s how we talked at my old job. It
happens more often than you’d think…” Maybelle answered.

“Remind me again? Were you an escort or a bath attendant?” Srebral asked.

“Yes.” Maybelle answered, getting a laugh out of Srebral. “I mean, my official description
says bath attendant but… Well, you get the idea.”

“I see… He said they wanted to if I did…” He revealed.

“Do you want to?” Maybelle asked.

“I don’t know…” He admitted.

“It’s just an idea. You can ignore it if it’s a bad one.” She assured him.
“It’s not bad per se… It’s just shamelessly honest…” His tentacles writhed. Lesk genuinely
thought Srebral knew what he was getting when the innkeeper bought Maybelle, but he was
genuinely and pleasantly surprised by her.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” She asked. Maybelle hadn’t steered him wrong yet. Every
experimental experience with her thus far had felt phenomenal. He felt like he could cut back
and relax sometimes. His stress was lowering considerably.

“Ah, screw it. We can see where this goes…” He said. “Will you be alright though? He
triggers your allergies doesn’t he?” He checked in on her.

“I noticed it’s only when he’s smoking or just recently smoked that pipe. As long as he’s not
putting his tentacles on me, it should be fine. I hope.” She said. “Besides, it’s not a big deal if
we need to stop for whatever reason. Communication is important and mind flayers tend to
be really good at that!” Maybelle said. She wasn’t worried or nervous at all. To Srebral,
Maybelle was such an encouraging force. There was something warm and free about her,
taking life as it came to her. How much faith Maybelle had in him was almost inspiring. It
made him want to do his best to make sure that faith wasn’t misplaced.

“I’m curious though. Why do you want to do this?” Srebral asked her.

“Just wanting to experiment, I suppose…” She blushed, poking her fingers together. He
sensed that she found the question a bit embarrassing.

“With people of the same gender as you?” He tried to get more details out of her.

“Well… Yes. Other girls haven’t always been nice to me. I kind of wonder what it’s like.”
She admitted.

He wondered if this was just Maybelle’s way of coping with some kind of trauma.
“Maybelle, were you bullied?” Srebral asked. Her expression was like a wounded animal
trying to hide its injury.

“A little bit, years ago. It was taken care of. Vizaness found out about it and made them
stop.” She said. She never spoke up for herself? He silently approached her and hugged her
firmly. A small smile crept onto her face as she returned the hug.

“If anyone ever treats you that way again, I want you to tell me.” He said.

“I wouldn’t want anyone to get fired because of me…” She frowned.

“If you get bullied here, please don’t let me find out about it on my own. It would hurt me.”
Srebral wasn’t trying to give her an ultimatum, but he would crunch into the skull of anyone
that hurt his Maybelle. He couldn’t understand why she’d want to spare someone that hurt
her.

“I promise I won’t immediately resort to firing them. I’ll have Shelura beat them up first.” He
said. She knew he was trying his best. She couldn’t help but smile.

“Don’t worry. I’m happy here and everyone is nice to me.” She assured him. She gave him a
loving kiss on his cheek.

“I’m so glad.” Srebral patted her head with a tentacle. It made him feel good to provide an
environment where Maybelle could be treated well. She was loved. He refused to let her feel
anything less than that.

“Well… They’re waiting upstairs for our answer. Do you still want to do this?” Srebral
checked in with her. Maybelle nodded.

“I’m the one who asked, so…” She trailed off. He booped her nose.

“That’s irrelevant to ensuring your comfort.” Srebral said. The two of them went upstairs
together.

Lesk made sure to get his smoke break in earlier. The illithid had tried to kick his tobacco
habit in the past, but he found that he just “got mean and wanted to eat more brains” as he
said when the withdrawal hit. In his low rank, he didn’t want anyone to put up with his
attitude. Acting unpleasant would be a barrier to climbing back up the ladder so he ultimately
decided that he would continue smoking while telling young illithids not to emulate his bad
habits.

Brilanna had been starting to tease Lesk in order to try and bolster her own confidence. “You
can’t touch me until we get an answer! Maybelle won’t be able to play with me if I’m
covered in your slime.” She said, while doing a strip tease in a chair. She had already taken
off her top. She didn’t bother with wearing anything on her virtually non-existent breasts.
She’d been told it made her look boyish by her fellow drow women, but Lesk actually made
her feel like a woman.

“Now, you know I’m a very patient illithid, but I’d waltz into the abyss without hesitation to
get my tentacles on you.” Lesk said.
“Well you’ll have to be a little more patient, won’t you?” She smirked, pulling down her
skirt, revealing her underwear. Srebral opened the door walking in this scene. Brilanna felt
her cheeks warming up.

“Oh, they’re starting without us.” Maybelle pointed out. “Sorry for keeping you waiting.”
She bowed to Lesk. Brilanna was relieved by Maybelle being her typical self, even if she
thought her formal apology was weird.

“I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to hold him off! Did you need Srebral’s help to
haul your tits up the stairs?” She made a playful jab at Maybelle. Maybelle chuckled, taking
off her clothes quickly. She brought her arms under her breasts, holding them as if she were
carrying an armful of apples. She could barely contain them.

“I can carry them just fine.” Maybelle smirked.

Srebral let out a blown out breath, blushing as he locked the door. “Girls, what did I say
about making comments about your co-worker’s breasts?” Srebral asked.

“Not to do it in front of customers.” Brilanna said.

“And not during work time!” Maybelle said.

“Alright. Good. Glad we’re on the same page.” Srebral was a little nervous about this.

“I think Brilanna wants to get acquainted with Maybelle first.” Lesk said.

“W-well I mean those weren’t my exact words but…” Brilanna blushed.

“Alright! I can do that first! I was thinking the same thing.” Maybelle said, and she climbed
onto the bed. “Wow, this bed is so soft…” Maybelle observed. She couldn’t believe it was
alright for her to do this on it. Brilanna blushed as she approached Maybelle, climbing up on
the bed with her.

Maybelle brought herself up to her knees and was surprised when Brilanna took charge,
kissing her hard. Maybelle reciprocated, kissing her in kind. Maybelle reached up, tracing her
fingers over her ear lobe. Brilanna started nipping at her neck, lightly pressing her teeth
against the human woman’s flesh. Maybelle moaned softly before pulling down Brilanna’s
underwear.

“Do you like it when I touch you here?” Maybelle placed her hands on Brilanna’s chest,
gently teasing them with her hands.
“Want to know how you can make up for calling my chest a level plot of land?” She looked
Maybelle in the eyes.

“I think I have a pretty good idea…” Maybelle blushed as she rubbed her thumb over one of
the drow’s hardened nipples. Maybelle kissed Brilanna along her neck and collarbone,
trailing kisses lower until she was sucking on one of her breasts. They both felt their illithid
partners probing into their minds, letting that connection form. It felt so natural to Maybelle.
Brilanna was still getting used to it, but she was sufficiently distracted by Maybelle’s warm
mouth on her nipple.

She found herself able to relax, incredibly aroused by Maybelle practically worshiping her
chest. A purr from Lesk enjoying the sensations she felt betrayed just how much she enjoyed
this. “You like this, don’t you?” Maybelle smirked, continuing to use her mouth on her.

“M-maybe I do…” She said. She began moaning softly. The drow reached between
Maybelle’s legs, feeling the wetness of her crotch. “I guess I still owe you for calling you
Thunder Tits…” She said, rubbing at her moist folds.

“You don’t owe me, but I’m not saying no to a little generosity.” Maybelle smirked. She got
comfortable, laying down on the bed. She spread her legs, exposing herself to Brilanna.

“I believe it was your turn anyway?” She recalled.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s kind of hard to forget.” Brilanna brought her face between Maybelle’s legs.

“She can’t pronounce The Possessor Creed-Master’s name but she can remember that with
complete clarity.” Srebral told Lesk with amusement. Brilanna had never done this before,
but she wasn’t worrying about whether she could do it or not. Maybelle began guiding her
with soft spoken encouragement.

“A-ah! A little gentler please… Oh yes, right there. Perfect…” Maybelle’s pleasure began
making Srebral purr too.

Lesk couldn’t leave himself or Brilanna feeling neglected. Brilanna was looking quite
tempting with the way she was bent over. “Want me to fill in back here?” Lesk asked, his
hands and tentacles inching closer to her, but maintaining their restraint from touching her.
He received a muffled “Uh-huh” in response. His inhibitions were shoved away as he slowly
introduced his touch to her back, her supple ass, her thighs and between her legs. They shared
a deeply primal desire for connection and touch.

“Oh yes… No drow man could ever do what you're doing to me…” Brilanna sighed
pleasurably.
“Illithids just do it better.” Maybelle confidently said between shaky breaths.

“Such wise words.” Srebral said, approaching Maybelle. He got on the bed, gently squeezing
her pillowy soft breasts. Brilanna brought herself to lay next to Maybelle. Brilanna was
someone who preferred to face her partner during sex. She liked to see the one who was
sharing the experience with.

Brilanna practically studied that mauve gray complexion that looked like it came out of the
pages of a broadsheet just starting to run out of ink. His solid white eyes wore a stony look,
hard to read but always searching for something.

Srebral brought himself intimately close to Maybelle, filling in the absence that Brilanna left.
He lay beside her on the right, rubbing her clitoris with his left hand. Maybelle wrapped her
arm around him. Her left hand was gently placed on the back of his head. Their breaths
mingled as she leaned in to softly plant kisses on his head. Every kiss was warm against his
sauteed onion scented skin. It was a refuge against the scent of tobacco laced garlic, and she
allowed herself to go deeper into the perception of her master. His tentacles grasped, rubbed
and teased her breasts and nipples, as they thoroughly enjoyed their connection.

Maybelle’s free hand grasped Brilanna’s. Their fingers intertwined as they shared the one
thing they now had in common. Their moans and whimpers became a chorus of pleasure. “So
good…! So good!” Maybelle whimpered. Brilanna gasped as Lesk pushed a tentacle inside of
her. She then let out a louder whimper from being filled by the vigileator. “Auugh… You’re
making me all messy again!” She complained.

“Want me to stop, sweetheart?” Lesk asked

“I never said that!” Brilanna blushed. “K-keep going! Please…” She quickly added that last
bit.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Lesk plunged his tentacle into her. He sat between her legs,
pulling her torso into his lap. Brilanna became lost in her headspace as two of his tentacles
massaged her chest. The tip of his last tentacle rubbed against her neck as the tip of it teased
one of her pointed ears.

“Being messy is so fun! It makes me feel special when Master helps clean me up…”
Maybelle revealed. Srebral felt a little embarrassed about Maybelle revealing that in front of
Lesk.

“That’s real cute… I was going to offer last time but you flew out of here like a bat out of The
Abyss.” Lesk told Brilanna.
“B-because your pipe smoke is stinky! A-ahh!” Brilanna protested. Her protests stopped
when the tentacle plunging into her picked up the pace. The tentacle touching her face slid
down her body and started rubbing her clit.

“What was that, sweetheart?” His taunt was husky and soft in her mind.

“More…!” She muttered.

Maybelle relaxed deeper into her master’s touch, closing her eyes. Srebral felt mentally
pulled into her. Once again they found themselves in that shimmering pink. The warmth felt
like a submersion into liquid that they could breathe. Injected into it all, like ink, was that
crushing grip of crimson red passion. She felt him pushing in from all sides. She remembered
what she had to do. She pressed her forehead against his. She gave him her love, pushing
back with everything she built up. Love surged from them like a thunderclap, causing her to
practically scream. She whimpered as she came down from the high of her orgasm, holding a
stunned Srebral close to her.

Lesk was so focused on Brilanna that he didn’t even perceive what was going on in Maybelle
and Srebral’s minds. Brilanna wasn’t distracted by Maybelle at all. She was so close, almost
nothing could stop her from finishing. She was gripping Maybelle’s hand tightly. “Cumming!
I’m cumming!” Brilanna moaned. Of course, Lesk already knew that, but the poor broad
wasn’t exactly in total control of herself right now. He let her squirt all over his tentacles,
riding out her orgasm with her. He let out a gurgled moan before pulling out of her and
flopping next to her.

“W-wow…” She stared at the ceiling, smiling a little.

“Good tentacled lord…” Lesk gurgled.

Maybelle had a big goofy smile on her face. “You’re amazing, Srebral…”

“You are too, Maybelle…” Srebral hugged her. Maybelle thought about getting up to get her
master and everyone else some water. They had a jug brought in here earlier. Srebral didn’t
want to let her go. “Don’t get up yet… Not yet…” Srebral softly pleaded.

“Mnn… Thirsty…” Maybelle said.

“I’ll get it for you.” Srebral relented. Taking care of Maybelle after the act did indeed feel
like a bonding experience.

He poured cool water into a skull cup and chugged it down for himself before pouring the
rest into three other cups, one of which he held in his tentacle for Lesk. Maybelle sat up,
accepting her cup of water. “Thank you.” She showed her gratitude. She was used to these
macabre cups by now, but she secretly liked the cups in Srebral’s domicile better.
“Thanks…” Lesk said. “I feel like I’m doing something I shouldn’t be doing, Srebral, but I
don't want to stop.” Lesk confided to his fellow illithid.

“We really do live in a hive mind…” Srebral’s tentacles curled in amusement. When Brilanna
was done with her water, Maybelle leaneed in, giving her a gentle hug.

“Sooo… Did you have fun too?” Maybelle asked her. Brilanna blushed as she slowly
reciprocated her affection.

“I guess you do have some good taste after all, Maybelle.” Brilanna conceded.

“Ah.. Ah… Achoo!” Maybelle managed to cover her face to avoid sneezing on the drow
woman. “Ugh. Even his slime makes me sneeze. I’m sorry Lesk...” Maybelle apologized to
him.

“Don’t worry about it. If people could control having allergies, the concept of them wouldn’t
exist in the first place.” Lesk assured her that it wasn’t her fault.

“Come on... Let’s go get cleaned up.” Brilanna gave her a sympathetic smile, betraying her
annoyed tone.

“Well I guess post sex cuddling between you two is out…” Srebral chuckled. He gently wiped
his excess slime from her chest and between her legs.

“Are you staying here or coming with me tonight?” Srebral asked.

“Mmn… Here tonight, with you tomorrow?” Maybelle proposed.

“Sounds good. I’ll be making a new recipe to try out.” Srebral informed his favorite thrall.

“Oh boy! What is it?” She smiled.

“Spicy rothe cheddar biscuits and mushroom gravy.” Srebral said.

“That sounds yummy! I can’t wait to try it!” Maybelle sounded excited, before covering
another sneeze.

“Oh, right. Maybelle’s also his taste tester for new menu items.” Brilanna informed Lesk as
she started pulling on her clothes.

“So that explains the sudden menu expansion.” Lesk pondered.

“When she told me she’d eat that soup every day, she really meant it. I figured I’d try offering
breakfast at my inn too.” Srebral said.

“Don’t you need more employees for that?” Lesk asked.

“We’d do a soft launch with small batches. Make on demand, you know? I’m sure Maybelle
wouldn’t mind helping out. She wakes up early enough.” He’d work on getting more
employees if the breakfast offerings did well enough.

“Of course I’d be happy to help!” Maybelle gave Srebral a loving goodnight hug and kiss.
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” She began leaving with Brilanna.

“See you tomorrow, Maybelle. I love you…” He told her. She radiated happiness upon
hearing that sentence.

“I love you too!” She thought back with a big smile on her face. The two of them left to wash
up, and a sneeze could be heard from down the hall.

Lesk got dressed. This was a strange thing for him to navigate. He’d never experienced
anything like this with his last thrall. He’d let that moon elf vixen loose on the surface only
for her to come waltzing back into his life, until the fateful day she couldn’t waltz anymore…
“That was an interesting ‘investigation’, Srebral. Thanks for your cooperation.” Lesk said.

The two of them had a mental agreement that whatever happened next was partially up to
their thralls. Neither of them actually cared so long as the connections with their favorite
thralls felt good.

Srebral noticed that Maybelle had forgotten her headband in the room and bid farewell to
Lesk in order to return it to her. He left a sign on the door of the room that read “Close for
Cleaning.” before he went downstairs. “Maybelle, you forgot your-” He saw that she wasn’t
in her room. Her pillows were gone. He went to Brilanna’s room, slowly opening the door a
crack. “Is Maybelle in here?”

“Shh. She’s asleep…” Brilanna whispered. He opened it to look in and saw Maybelle curled
up next to Brillanna who was reading a book in preparation for entering her nightly trance.
The human was clutching her illithid doll she affectionately called Little Srebral. “She said
she’s used to sleeping next to someone because of you.” Brilanna whispered. “I can send her
back to her own bed if you want me to.” She offered.

“No, it’s fine. Let her sleep. You both worked hard today.” Srebral said. The sight of
Maybelle sleeping peacefully and hugging her illithid doll melted his heart. “Make sure she
gets this back.” He hung her mushroom patterned headband up on the inside of the doorknob
before quietly closing the door.

Once Lesk got outside of the inn, he lit up his pipe, the smell of tobacco wafting slowly
through the cavernous air around him. Maybe being in this low rank station had its perks
after all…
 It's Time to Go Outside
Chapter Summary

Ellimol takes his child Curio on a field trip

Ellimol was tired this morning. He'd stayed up entirely too late the night before, trying to
ensure he was completely prepared to leave the domicile and introduce his creation to the
greater colony. He curled up in his safe and cozy moss bed, wanting to stay just a few more
minutes, before drifting off again.

“Father? Father?” The illithid woke up to Curio attempting to wake him.

“Curio? Vat have I said about letting sleeping creatures sleep?” Ellimol reminded his
creation.

“Egar told me to wake you up and that we would be late if you didn’t wake up now. Should I
have ignored his advice?” Curio explained themselves.

“Ah, scheisse… I overslept…” Ellimol grumbled. He sat up in bed, rubbing his tired eyes.
“Alright I’m getting up.” He said. “Did you complete your morning tasks?” He asked.

“Yes, father. I fed the rats and replaced their bedding, properly disposing of the waste and
washing my hands.” Curio said, assuring their creator that they followed their procedures to
the letter.

“Alright. Feel free to preoccupy yourself until I’m ready to go. Vee’ll be going to zee
exposition workshop.” Ellimol explained.

“Exposition…?” Curio tilted their head. Their clear crystal blue eyes glinted subtly.

“It is vhere mind flayers in zee Creative Creed show off zheir new creations.” Ellimol briefly
explained.

“I think I understand the concept now. Thank you, father.” Curio followed through on their
father’s orders, ceasing to pester him for the rest of the morning.
They would try to solve some of those puzzles that Ellimol gave them while their father ate
breakfast, drank a bit of the latest shipment of coffee and prepared the suit that he used for
traversing the filthy outside world. The suit was something of his own creation. It covered his
skin from head to toe, but lacked the tinted lenses of the usual exo suit. It was far lighter as
well. Although it restricted the wearer’s tentacles inside of it, it had efficient breathing filters
that filtered out toxic gasses and airborne illnesses with 90% effectiveness. It was even
resistant to tears and cuts.

When Ellimol was wearing the hazard suit, he was capable of walking through areas of toxic
spores, fumes and pestilence with relative peace of mind. The tests of the filters on his rats
were wildly successful. He didn't like using humanoid test subjects if he could avoid it
because they were “expensive, noisy, and gross”. He went to excessive and elaborate lengths
to sterilize any that he used. The last straw was when a particularly surly duergar spit on him,
causing him days of anxiety. To him, Curio was perfect because they were entirely immune to
all of those nasty things. His child was an artificial life form, incapable of suffering from
physical ailments.

“What is that clothing for?” Curio asked.

“It’s because your father thinks he’ll get some kind of horrible disease if he ventures outside
too far.” Egar said. The nothic resisted the urge to roll his one large eye.

“It is for mein protection. Zee Ashen is highly contagious! Any mind flayer could be carrying
it and not know it until it’s too late!” He had washed himself no less than 6 times when
Vebeva left his domicile after she had slapped him. The Ashen wasn’t a deadly disease, but
Ellimol had been one of the extremely unlucky few to become seriously ill, leading to his
permanently pale skin.

Thanks to Vebeva’s stunt, everyone entering his domicile had to follow new and more
rigorous sterilization procedures. His anxiety turned his domicile into a prison that he tricked
himself into believing was a safe haven. The only thing keeping him in contact with others
was the telepathic network of The Encephalithid and his creeds. He knew he couldn’t keep
Curio confined to this space forever. His colony wouldn't allow it and today was the day he
was being forced to come out.

Ellimol’s little lab and domicile was located in The Workshops. He wasn’t far from the
exposition workshop. It was a couple rings down from below his own home. Curio had never
seen the world beyond the front door. They knew there was more to the world than their
home. Oryndoll was home to thousands of illithids and their thralls, yet so far they had only
seen one other mind flayer, the Creative Creed-Master, Trallazave. Curio knew little of what
went on beyond the city’s walls except that there were thralls without masters that lived
somewhere far away.

Ellimol began going over safety and etiquette rules for going outside with Curio, covering
every possibility that he could think of. “Before vee open zhis door, let’s go over our ground
rules, ya?” Ellimol said.

“Yes, father.” Curio acknowledged.

“When vee are outside of a building, hold mein hand and shtay close to me. I don’t vant you
accidentally getting lost if you get distracted by somezhing interesting.” Ellimol made a point
to explain why certain rules were in effect so that his child could better follow them.
“Number two, don’t touch anyone, zheir zhralls, or zhings vizhout permission. Remember
vhen vee talked about boundaries?” Ellimol reminded Curio.

“I do.” Curio confirmed. Egar had gotten quite upset when Curio went into his room and
touched his rock collection once.

“Finally, every mind flayer in zhis colony is your superior. You must treat zhem vhiz utmost
respect.” Ellimol reminded his child.

“I understand.” Curio acknowledged. Ellimol, with his hazard suit donned, opened the door.
Time seemed to slow for the anxious illithid as he held onto one of Curio’s four metallic
hands and stepped outside. Egar followed behind his master, the hunched nothic was knuckle
walking on all fours like a chimp would.

“You can do this Ellimol. You’ve been outside before… You remember where your destination
is and are not going to have a panic attack!” Ellimol had to remind himself that he was
breathing. He had to focus on something else. He had to get out of his own head.

“Egar, I need a distraction…” Ellimol was letting his vulnerability leak out a little. He knew
he needed help to calm down.

“Try figuring out how your child feels about all this. They might be just as scared as you,
though.” Egar suggested.

“Zhat’s actually a good idea…” Ellimol heeded his thrall’s advice. They focused on probing
the thoughts of Curio. The construct was so focused on everything around them that they
didn’t even notice their father’s intrusion into their thought process. What Ellimol found there
was interesting. Boundless curiosity. Everything was new and interesting. Illithids were able
to effortlessly levitate from place to place. A few were staring at him. An elder slaps a young
apprentice on the hand with a tentacle for pointing.
“Father, some of them appear to be studying me intently. Why are they doing that?” Curio
asked.

“Some minds simply ponder longer on new information, such as vhen encountering
somezhing zhey have never seen before. It is no exaggeration vhen I say zhat you are
completely unique. Notzhing like you exists in Oryndoll or even possibly the entire vorld.”
Ellimol answered honestly.

“Will they form an opinion on me?” Curio asked.

“For better or vorse, ya. I vould like to zhink my fellow mind flayers are not small minded
fools. I hope zhey see mein own genius in you. After all, I made you, so if I’m told you are
flawed, it is an insult to me as well.” Ellimol admitted.

“I will attempt to avoid being insulted in order to protect your honor.” Curio said. Ellimol
thought it was the best course of action to protect Curio even if it felt somewhat selfish.

Their child’s curiosity reminded Ellimol of healthier days. Days when they too enjoyed
exploring their city when he was searching for a creed to join. The Abysmal Creed was the
one he was least interested in, but he was so torn between the Creative Creed and the
Nourisher Creed at the time that he ultimately ended up choosing both. He knew going in that
it would double his work load, but it was a challenge he readily undertook. Maybe
overworking is what compromised his health in the first place? Ellimol’s mind went over
several unpleasant possibilities about his physical condition when he was alone with his
thoughts.

Ellimol was glad that Curio didn’t seem to inherit his anxiety. It gave him an extra reason to
hold it together. It wasn’t simply the fact that Ellimol was obligated to show off his creation.
Vebeva had already gotten a sneak peek via scrying and talking to Trallazave about it. She
was admittedly interested in this project, perhaps partially due to the fact that Curio was
equipped with a weapon that she personally developed.

The day before the exposition, Vebeva had a conversation with him over the telepathic
communication as if nothing had ever happened between them. She firmly agreed that
treating Curio as a newborn ceremorph was the best course of action. She knew of course that
Curio was not an illithid and wouldn’t pretend that the construct was a citizen. The fruits of
her own labor merely hinged on the delicate progression of a child’s mind. This unique
situation made her thankful she rethought her decision to breed Natiri. Parenthood seemed
like a time consuming and exhausting affair that she would inevitably deal with the residual
effects of. At least this “child” could do more than babble, cry and whatever other unpleasant
behaviors small children had.

Perhaps even more fortunate for Ellimol’s anxiety was the fact that Vebeva would not be
attending the panel. She did her bare minimum duty of talking to him prior to it. She barely
even wanted to do that much since he wasn’t even in her department anymore. This place was
simply fascinating to Curio! There were all kinds of unique items here! An illithid named
Qhalex invented what they called an oreator, a striator-like device that translates the written
words of one language into another set language that the user understands, which was usually
Deep Speech or Undercommon.

“Surprised you didn’t find a way to show up indirectly.” Qhalex commented. It was a rare
and unusual sight to see Ellimol not only out of his domicile laboratory but also in public.
“This construct must be your latest creation, I presume?” Qhalex asked.

“Ya. Zhis is mein child, Curio.” Ellimol responded. Curio bowed to Qhalex, giving a polite
greeting.

“Your child??” Elen, a creator of psionic items asked with a laugh. She specialized in crystal
masks, her signature one being a Mask of Dread. The black crystalline mask looked like a
gloaming’s black furry wings and made her eyes glow red when she wanted to scare others
into submission.

“Curio’s sentience originated from fragments of mein psyche und knowledge. Does zhat not
meet zee definition of ‘progeny’?” Ellimol debated.

“I suppose that is not a wholly inaccurate description. It is merely amusing since parenthood
is such a humanoid concept.” Elen said.

“I acknowledge that I am unusual. That is why I chose Curio as my name. It is my purpose to

become a useful tool for the community I live in.” Curio said.

“They’re clearly capable of psionics due to them using telepathy… Have they displayed any
other psionic powers yet?” Elen asked.

“No, but I am also curious about vhat Curio may be capable of in zhat regard. I can begin
testing via zee installation of additional psychic reservoirs if you are villing to donate
towards zhat research.” Ellimol responded.
“I am fueled by psychic reservoirs. I currently have insufficient psionic power to exhibit
psionic disciplines and abilities.” Curio explained. They had tried to think about levitating on
multiple occasions to mimic their father and have failed thus far.

“I would like to see their combat capabilities.” An illithid developer of weapons named
Thaul quipped.

“Ah, zat is unfortunately not fully developed yet. Curio does have one veapon und it is an
irritating gas for dispersing riots. Zhey don’t know how to deploy it yet, nor do I vant zhem to
in zhis enclosed space, ya?” Ellimol wasn’t ready to introduce his practically infant construct
child to combat.

“My hands can grip objects with a force of 200 pounds per square inch. This exceeds the bite
force of the average humanoid by 64.8%.” Curio informed the weapon maker.

“Curio has such fine control over zheir limbs, zhey can handle even zee most delicate of
objects und creatures vizhout breaking zhem. Zee possibilities are endless, from rescue
missions to laboratory assistance.” Ellimol added. Curio pointed a tentacle at the oreator on
display.

“May I try using it, please?” Curio asked.

“Sure. You break it, you buy it.” Qhalex said. Curio gently picked it up as gently as their
creator promised they would. They slide the device over the text, which was in a script they
didn’t recognize. It was a poem written by a human in Elvish. The poor human had
presumably fallen for a nymph who stopped returning his affections. The invention began
translating and reading the text audibly for the listener.

“Oh, Hope! thou soother sweet of human woes!

How shall I lure thee to my haunts forlorn!

For me wilt thou renew the withered rose,

And clear my painful path of pointed thorn?

Ah come, sweet nymph! in smiles and softness drest,

Like the young hours that lead the tender year

Enchantress come! and charm my cares to rest:

Alas! the flatterer flies, and will not hear!

A prey to fear, anxiety, and pain,

Must I a sad existence still deplore?

Lo! the flowers fade, but all the thorns remain,

‘For me the vernal garland blooms no more.’

Come then, ‘pale Misery’s love!’ be thou my cure,

And I will bless thee, who though slow art sure.”

Curio thought the poem was pretty, even if they couldn’t really grasp the meaning behind it.
“Analyzing literature isn’t Curio’s best subject. Curio shtrongly prefers sciences und
mazhematics.” Ellimol explains. Curio wanted to see what else was on display and before
they knew it, the construct’s attention was drawn elsewhere. From hands free shoes for
illithids, to a prototype of a water purifier, new psionic disciplines and various other creative
creations. Egar was keeping an extra eye on Curio as well.

Unfortunately, Ellimol’s suit had one flaw that kept it from being absolutely perfect. It sure
could get hot inside this thing! He had tolerated it as long as he could. He had admittedly
pushed himself harder than he should have for the sake of Curio’s excitement. He endured for
up to an hour outside of his domicile. The event had honestly been a bit of a blur to him,
catching up with other illithids that hadn't seen Ellimol in months. Some of them had even
checked in with the elder brain in the past to ensure Ellimol hadn't died. Now it was time for
their rare glimpse of him to come to an end.

The instant they all got home, Ellimol went into his room, stripping off his hazard suit and
flopping into his bed. “Egar! Vater! I need vater.” Ellimol said. Egar was already on it.

“Father? Are you alright?” Curio asked from outside of his father’s chamber.

“Ya… I’ll be fine. I just need hydration… And to decompress.” Ellimol responded.

“I have to get by you, Curio.” Egar said. Curio moved aside so that Egar could deliver a clean
cup of water, which Ellimol chugged.

“Perhaps we can create something to keep your suit cool or make hydration more
comfortable for you?” Curio suggested. The prospect of inventing new things with his child
sounded quite nice. It would further show Curio’s usefulness to others.

“Vee could look into zhat.” Ellimol agreed.

“I did not appear flawed to anyone today, did I?” Curio asked.
“Nein! Not at all! Elen said you seemed very polite!” He was proud to report.

“I feel happy that I was able to leave a good impression.” Curio said.

For now, Curio remained an oddity in their infancy. Their personality was a mere fragment of
Ellimol’s. What they would become would require possibly years of careful dedication and
development. Even if Curio wasn’t a true illithid, Ellimol saw them as an artificial illithid.
Like any new illithid, Curio needed nurturing and education in order to draw out their true
potential.

Ellimol felt it was his primary responsibility to be that guiding force for his creation. Qhalex
could be a good contact for helping to develop Curio’s weaponry when the time came. Curio
had four arms, they could easily wield melee weapons but he would need someone to train
them. He didn’t know how to use martial weapons so Curio wouldn’t either. Maybe he could
get Curio a Gauntlet of Tyla'zhus for self defense.

Regardless of what the future held, today Ellimol was proud of his child…
 An Unofficial Rematch
Chapter Summary

Selessk shows up unannounced to make good on that challenge to A Breeder Named

Slisskbax

Contains: Hate fucking and choking

Even though Angel had lost the tournament, A Breeder Named Slisskbax wasn’t a sore loser
toward his own thrall. This is a surprising exception, since his views on thralls often causes
him to take a firm hand with them. He doesn’t hesitate to use physical force to discipline
them, even in the public places of Oryndoll. However, his top thrall needed to be in peak
condition for next year’s tournament. Today was her day off. She could take it easy, and
meditate on working harder to win next year’s tournament for her master. Even when she
lost, she had fun and Kalamash was easily one of her new favorite partners on par with
Shogala.

Angel kept quite fit and active, enjoying both martial arts and wrestling, which A Breeder
Named Slisskbax grew fond of spectating as well. For less intense hobbies, she liked to play
chess and variants of it. For her birthday, Shogala had given her a version of the game called
Shogi from a far off land across the Trackless Sea. The hobgoblin told her it was one more
thing she wanted to be able to beat her at.

Much to her delight, her master was willing to play with her today. He was one of the few
people who would. Sometimes she would even beat him on rare occasions. The creed-master
himself was a player of planar dragonchess. Particularly sadistic Elder Concord members,
such as the creed-master of the Abysmal Creed, Quabrivauss, enjoyed making thralls move
the pieces for them on those massive boards, but A Breeder Named Slisskbax was not one of
these members. Today they agreed to play a classic game of chess.

She almost never won, but at least he played fairly. A Breeder Named Slisskbax knew some
illithids liked to cheat against their thralls by reading their thrall’s minds, and he thought
these illithids had little respect for the game. In regular chess, the creed-master could often
beat her in fewer than 10 moves, one time beating her in only 4. She was playing with white
and he was using black. In this first game he beat her in eight moves. “Checkmate.”

“Aww…” Angel pouted.

A Breeder Named Slisskbax had always given her three chances to beat him in a game.
Attempt number one was already a bust. In attempt number two, A Breeder Named Slisskbax
had beaten her in seven moves. “Checkmate. You get one more attempt, Angel.” Her master
reminded her. Angel once again moved all the pieces back to their original squares.

“Pawn to E4.” Angel made an opening move.

“Pawn to C5.” A Breeder Named Slisskbax countered.

“Ah, the Sespechan Defense…” She thinks, moving her knight to F3. The creed-master
moved his knight to C6 in response.

“ stick to basic opening principles -- control the center of the board, develop pieces, and
castle early.” A Breeder Named Slisskbax reminded her.

“Pawn to D4.” She made a move.

“Pawn takes pawn.” A Breeder Named Slisskbax said.

“Knight takes pawn.” Angel countered, taking his piece in response.

“Well played. Knight to F6.” The creed-master moved. Knight to C3, and pawn to D6. She
moves her bishop to C4 and he moves his bishop to D7. For once, Angel was sending him on
a merry chase across the board. They had gotten 23 moves in and they still weren’t done and
his bishop had taken hers. There was an unannounced visitor before they could conclude their
game.

Angel answered the door to see Selessk and Shogala at the door. She was confused about
why they were here unannounced. “Slissy, I'm here for that rematch.” Selessk announced.

“You know damn well it's A Breeder Named Slisskbax! Have some respect for me in my own
damn home!” The ulitharid was clearly annoyed by the demeaning nickname.

“Besides that, Angel is on break for the day!” He tried to turn down his rival's challenge.

“You agreed to our terms of ‘any time’, so unless you plan to count this as a forfeit, maybe
you shouldn't make agreements you won't commit to.” Selessk said. Shogala smirked at
Angel.
“You up for an erotic dominance match or are we going home disappointed?” She asked.
Despite the intense rivalry between the ulitharids that owned them, the rivalry of their thralls
was friendly.

“You know I’m no wuss, Shogala!” Angel affirmed. “That’s up to my master, however…”
She said, giving a pensive smile.

“I remember what I said, Selessk.” A Breeder Named Slisskbax said. It was clear she was
going to be persistent. He realized she was trying to catch him off of his guard during his
downtime to get an easy victory! He couldn’t allow her to get away with that! “I said ‘You’re
on.’”. The festhall owner recalled.

The four of them went to the arena that was A Breeder Named Slisskbax’s bedroom. Angel
and Shogala stripped down to their underwear as their ulitharid owners took their places on
either side of the bed. “After I beat you in wrestling, I’m going to bend you over and pull
your hair. I’ll destroy you!” Shogala playfully threatened. They talked quite aggressively to
each other in these matches.

“We’ll see about that! Don’t talk as if our score isn’t tied.” Angel smirked.

The match began with the two women beginning to wrestle with each other, trying to pin
each other down. This is how he liked his matches, trying to overpower his opponent with
perfect control of his thrall. Showing skill and control over others, through raw strength and
ecstasy. Shogala pinned Angel down, only for the dexterous aasimar monk to wiggle out of
her grasp and get on top. It didn’t take long however for the powerful hobgoblin woman to
pin Angel back down.

As they struggled with each other, their clothes became more disheveled. Shogala’s breasts
were popping out of her bra and Shogala was on top, pinning her down. The opportunity
presented itself to Angel and A Breeder Named Slisskbax used it to make her spank Shogala.
A surprised moan escaped from the hobgoblin and Selessk as their opponents used the
distraction to try and get back on top. The struggle between them and their thralls was a mind
game they played for their entire careers. A Breeder Named Slisskbax as his namesake
described, handled the breeding and acquisition aspect of thrall husbandry. Selessk handled
their close relationship to the Tamer Creed, as well as ceremorphosis efforts. The two of them
wanted to subsume all responsibilities to gain sole control of the creed. However, their own
hubris proved too much of a distraction for this to ever happen.
“Ooh, how cheeky.” Selessk pretended to be unphased, focusing on regaining control.
Shogala leaned in, trying to kiss Angel. Selessk knew it was his weakness now, and A
Breeder Named Slisskbax moved his thrall’s hands to keep Shogala at bay away from his
thrall’s lips.

“Lucky brat… How’d Kalamash’s cock taste, huh?” She playfully taunted her with the round
she lost. The truth is, she was actually a little jealous that Angel got to taste him and she
didn’t.

“Quite nice, actually.” Angel smirked and stuck her tongue out at Shogala. It was as if she
was teasing Shogala to try and kiss her. She had something that Shogala couldn’t have and it
was fun to try and tease her with it.

The two ulitharids were panting along with their thralls even though they were exerting no
physical effort themselves. “What? You don’t want our thralls to kiss?” Selessk teased him.

“No…!” A Breeder Named Slisskbax

“Aww. Poor Slissy can’t handle getting kissy!” She taunted.

He was tired of getting called ‘Slissy’ and being taunted with that childish rhyme. A Breeder
Named Slisskbax had disdain for any attempt to shorten his name but that one was by far the
worst and most embarrassing. He wanted so badly to wipe that subtly smug look off her face
himself.

“You have to stay on your side of the arena. You should know this. You created the rules.”
Selessk reminded him. He allowed Shogala to kiss Angel on the lips, who returned the deep
and unruly passion of it in equal measure. The kiss embarrassed him, making him feel that
strange feeling again. A Breeder Named Slisskbax’s cheeks burned pale but he was going to
take it out on the source of all this frustration. He pushed through that strange feeling with
purpose, spite and an almost irresistible urge of arousal long buried deep.

He glared at Selessk. “ This is my domicile, Selessk. This isn’t an official match, and I’m
rewriting the rules.” He approached her.

“Oh? You’re approaching me?” Selessk stood.

“I can’t teach you a lesson in respect without getting closer.” A Breeder Named Slisskbax
responded.

“Oh ho! Then come as close as you like.” Selessk began to approach him.
Their thralls were too busy to notice what was going on, other than they had free movement
over their limbs again. They decided on a standing sixtynine position in which Shogala was
effortlessly holding Angel up. Angel was in kind licking at the hobgoblin champion’s pussy.
The sensation of their thralls enjoying each other, combined with the excitement of released
exertion only drove them even deeper into this course of action. With building frustration
came arousal. It was likely that Selessk never got the release she needed in that tournament
because she didn’t get the satisfaction of facing her rival creed-master and she had dropped
out before him.

She couldn’t be mad at Vizaness for that so she had no one to blame or focus on but him.
She’d pushed him beyond all the teasing he could take and the two of them began
aggressively intertwining their tentacles. Such shows of aggression are quite rare, usually
occurring between mind flayers of equal rank who can’t reconcile. It was often frowned upon
in a colony, because it was the job of aedileators to handle disputes between illithids. Their
emotions began to metaphorically boil over into one and other.

Frustration mixed with pleasure. Pleasure became desperation and sexual aggression as a
growling purr emanated from A Breeder Named Slisskbax. Selessk leaned into it, her
forehead firmly pressing against his. At a mental standstill, their bodies trembed. Selessk felt
hot. They both knew they were behaving poorly but they couldn’t stop. The pressure
continued to build up as A Breeder Named sensed Shogala pinning Angel down to continue
their mutual cunnilingus. It didn’t help that his thrall was absentmindedly fantasizing about
Kalamash having his way with both her and Shogala.

“Don’t tell me you’re learning to be a sore loser, slissy.” Selessk taunted him, intentionally
whipping him into a deeper frenzy.

“I’ll show you sore!” These damn robes were in his way. He yanked Selessk’s princely
buttoned robes open, biting her shoulder. He retained enough control not to draw blood, but
she was pushing him to his limits. Selessk moaned at the pricking sensation on her skin.
Shogala moaned at the same time, feeling it as well.

Selessk didn’t notice, but A Breeder Named Slisskbax had a suspicion that his rival creed-
master wasn’t controlling the sensations she received or sent between her thrall anymore.
“Two can play that game…” Selessk wrested a tentacle free, wrapping it around his neck and
squeezing. A Breeder Named Slisskbax let out a gurgled moan, finding himself pushed
against the moss mattress. It was much the same sensation he got when he was choking a
thrall to initiate them as an escort. Angel’s eyes rolled back, having much the same reaction
as him. The thralls didn’t stop unless they were told to. Their only job now was to make the
other thrall cum.
The creed-masters grew ever desperate for more. How far could they go before it was too far?
They yanked off each other’s robes with reckless abandon. A Breeder Named Slisskbax
further upped the ante, taking his one free tentacle and sliding it around Selessk’s tall slender
frame, pushing the tip of the slimy appendage into her cloaca. Selessk gasped, apparently not
reaching her limits either. They clung to each other as their thralls tried to outlast each other.
They each dug their clawed fingertips into each other’s backs, leaving pale lines and marks
upon the other’s skin without breaking the skin.

“Say it… Say my name!” A Breeder Named Slisskbax demanded, with an almost guttural
gooey growl.

“T-try harder… Make me!” She was equally losing control of herself. A Breeder Named
Slisskbax drove his tentacle deeper into her. The remaining ten tentacles between them were
a tangled, writhing and angrily aroused mess.

Nobody had ever touched Selessk like this before. It felt so perverse yet she found herself
squirming against her fellow creed-master, taking and giving every sensation like a conduit.

"You glorified whoremaster!" She insulted him.

"You stone cold ogress!" A Breeder Named Slisskbax started to quiver as her tentacle
squeezed at his neck once more. She couldn't think of a verbal rebuttal, and nor could he
think of another insult to add.

Both Angel and Shogala shivered before they climaxed simultaneously. The resulting
orgasms in their thralls led to an intense release for the ulitharids linked to their minds. Both
ulitharids became stunned, unintentionally embracing the other with their tired tentacles as
Selessk collapsed on A Breeder Named Slisskbax. “A-ah… Slisskbax…” Selessk was too
stunned to say the whole thing, even if she wanted to. At least it was a slight improvement…
The festhall owner was the first to come to his senses, pushing Selessk off of him. “Who…
Who won?” He asked the two thralls.

“Uhm… I actually don’t know, Master…” Angel admitted. Shogala was honorable enough
not to claim a victory she didn’t earn, but she was a little afraid to be honest.

“Well it happened at the same time so… I’d venture to say no one won…” Shogala said. All
that for a draw? Selessk sat up, realizing what they just did. Her cheeks were flushing pale.
She normally didn’t act so… Feral… The two ulitharids began putting their robes back on,
trying to process what happened.
“That was… Atrocious.” A Breeder Named Slisskbax said.

“Execrable.” Selessk agreed.

“Filthy.” The festhall owner continued.

“Primal.” His rival creed-master completed a second round of word association.

“Why did it feel so…?” A Breeder Named Slisskbax struggled to find the word.

“Good? Pleasurable? Gratifying?” Selessk guessed.

“Want to do it again next tenday…?” A Breeder Named Slisskbax asked with a cautious
tone.

“Yes.” Selessk responded with frank honesty.

She silently straightened up her robes, making herself look as if nothing had happened. She
got Shogala to clean up and say goodbye to Angel so they could promptly leave this
domicile. She turned to look at her fellow creed-master as Shogala opened his door for her to
leave. “I’ll see you around… A Breeder Named Slisskbax.” She quickly exited, and thought
of a wall of noise to drown out any attempt to gloat. It took considerable effort on her part,
but it worked. It was the psionic version of plugging one’s ears yelling “La la la! I can’t hear
you!”.

“Of course…” A Breeder Named Slisskbax had an unamused look in his eyes. “Well… That
happened. Angel, I do believe we have a chess game to finish.” He said, focusing on literally
anything else.

“Yes, Master!” Angel’s small wings flapped a little as she pulled on her robe and returned to
the chess board.

White king to H1. Black pawn to H5. White queen to E5, Black bishop to A7. Angel moved
her queen to G3. “Checkmate.” She said. The breeder looked at the board. She had indeed
won for once out of several games.

“Well played…” He conceded. Sometimes it was all about the little victories…
 His Mistress' Pet and Plaything
Chapter Summary

Vebeva delves deeper into Whim's psyche to find out more about him and his kinks.

Whim’s private meetings in his mistress’ bed chamber had started to become like clockwork.
At least once a tenday she would request his company. Vebeva held the butler in her lap on
the edge of her moss bed. She merely told him that she was curious about something but not
what it was. She was curious about where his sexual desires came from. What was the seed
that put them there? He leaned against her, gently rubbing his hand against the dark purple
satin of her dress, and opened his mind to her. It felt quite natural to let her in his mind, even
when she was swimming through his most intimate and private memories. She ran her
fingers through his hair flipping through his memories like a book.

Turning a thrall into a thrall wasn’t a perfect process. It was messy without the help of one’s
colony, yet she found there was little she had to alter in the first place. He was already perfect
to suit her needs and desires. This was the first time she decided to closely analyze Whim’s
memories, prodding him with mental suggestions to show her the answers to her questions.
There was nothing he would hide from her. He trusted her with all his secrets, truths and lies.

He grew up in Baldur’s Gate. He was an orphan. He must have been incredibly young when
he lost his parents. Whim, full name Whimberton Creed, was a street kid, raised by an older
tiefling teen who was rather naggy but she gave them food and a place to sleep. He couldn’t
remember the names of people he grew up with. He barely remembered their faces. On the
streets, one learned to be strong or fast or you didn’t get to eat. He got into pickpocketing at
the age of 12 and by 17 he was committing burglary.

After a gig had gone wrong at the age of 19, Whim managed to escape the worst
consequences of it all, avoiding the city guard. Whim knew he wanted a better life, knowing
that being on the streets, he wouldn’t last forever out there. He managed to charm his way
into the Irlentree family. The lady of the family was his meal ticket. He was a servant but he
had a bed that wasn’t on the floor, he had three square meals a day, and he was secretly
stealing whatever baubles those rich merchants wouldn’t have missed anyway. He would give
some of his money to that young tiefling woman who had now become a priestess of Ilmater
and ran an orphanage. She never knew he was stealing to make his donations to her.
“I would never do such a thing to you, Mistress. I take my job as your prized servant with
seriousness and with the highest standards in mind.” He assured her. Although he had done
such things to a past employer, he did want her trust. She had his complete loyalty. “Not
unless you wanted to role play…” He teasingly offered.

“Oh ho ho ho! You little scamp…” She sounded amused as she continued looking through his
memories. “Were you ever caught?” She asked.

“I was… By the lady of the house.” Whim blushed. Vebeva sensed a tinge of shame, as if it
were difficult for him to say what happened next. Perhaps she needed to do something more
to get him to focus on what she wanted. Vebeva gently wrapped a tentacle around his neck.
She pulled down his pants to his knees and her remaining tentacles snake their way under his
shirt. She didn’t want to empty his mind, but perhaps just a little teasing is what she needed.

“Be a good boy and show me what happened…” She commanded. Prior to Lady Irlentree,
his only sexual experience was when one of his friends stole his tiefling caretaker’s
underwear when they were 14, 15 and 13, Whim being the youngest. She beat the living
daylights out of him and all his friends that day.

Whim wanted to be a good boy for his mistress. He gave in, trusting her wholly. “I had an
affair with Lady Irlentree…” He whispered. “She had power over me like you do. Of course,
your power is far greater, Mistress.” He said. The noble woman would make him wear a
collar and act like her personal puppy. He quite enjoyed having her wrapped around his
finger. He had even convinced her to make direct donations to the orphanage herself.

He grew into a notorious flirt who liked to string women along, but in the bed chambers, he
was loyal to the lady.

“Using submission to gain influence? Well that’s fascinating…” Vebeva commented. It

certainly explained a lot of things.

“I have no such ulterior motives for you, my love. If it should be repressed, repress it. If you
want to embrace it, I’m yours no matter what you want me to be.” He said.

“How interesting… Your cock is already hard and I haven't even touched it.” Vebeva noted.
“I am recalling you voicing a desire to and I quote, ‘be my dog.’ and that you would ‘sit, beg
and roll over’ for me.” She reminded him. He felt a tentacle teasing rubbing its tip against his
cock.
Whim blushed at her perfect memory and recall. “Is it weird…?” He asked in a rare moment
of self consciousness. His sex life was deeply private and personal prior to his Mistress’
acquisition of him. His sexual experiences with others were either shameful or a secret.

“Oh ho ho! I didn’t consider that you were serious until I saw that… Whim, if I can tolerate
Dallimeze without having him executed on sight, then even at your most taboo, you are still in
a far more dignified position. You are merely unique with a few admittedly pleasant
surprises.” She assured him.

The ulitharid began to slowly stroke his cock. He cooperated with her and allowed her to take
his clothing off all the way with her other tentacles. “What will you order me to do,
Mistress?” He quietly asked, feeling himself relax.

“I want you to be my good little pet.” Vebeva tells him. “You already have the collar.” She
could feel his breath hitch and his cock twitch against the tentacle wrapped around it.

“I would be honored to, Mistress.” He softly moaned. Whatever it took to please her, he
would do it.

It was obvious to her now how much he loved being held and bound by his mistress. He was
her captive prize, her loyal servant, her plaything, pet and lover. The tip of the tentacle that
was around his neck gently rubbed against his lips and probed his mouth. He found himself
sucking and licking it. When she felt he was sufficiently teased, she released him and made
him stand up. “Pick up your clothes and fold them neatly.” She ordered.

“Yes, Mistress.” Whim followed through, placing the folded clothing upon the desk in her
room.

“Bring me Natiri’s leash. We’ll be borrowing that.” She said.

He felt vulnerable walking though his mistress’ domicile nude to retrieve the leash from near
the door. It hadn’t been used in a while, so it’s not as if Natiri would be missing it. Natiri
wasn’t out there to see him grab it. She was in their room, secretly reading one of his erotica
books to see what he liked about them so much. She heard a rumor Zusrall’s thrall would try
their own hand at writing erotica, so she ended up rather interested. The story was about a
noblewoman in a secret affair with a mind flayer. This noble character was rather unlikable
so she felt nothing resembling pity for her upon her enthrallment resulting in a stroke.

When Whim returned to his mistress’ bed chamber, Vebeva made him stop by the door after
closing it. “Put the leash on the floor.” She instructed. He complied. “Down on your hands
and knees.” Whim blushed, following her train of thought clearly. “I want to see you crawl
to me. Fetch!” She commanded. Whim picked the leash up with his mouth, crawling to her
on his hands and knees. He had to move a bit more slowly and cautiously on these hard and
cold stone floors, but nevertheless he obliged.

She made a mental note to get a rug for the room. Whim was also a skilled interior decorator,
and he knew his mistress’ sense of style very well. Not only would it make things more
comfortable for Whim, the decor would tie the room together anyway. “Good boy, Whim!”
Vebeva praised as she took the leash from him. “Up.” She pointed to the bed. Whim got up
on the bed on all fours, enjoying the softness of the moss beneath him. He always had the
softest pillow moss to sleep on in his own bed, but his mistress’ bed was a paradise to him.

She hooked the leash to his collar. His cock became completely erect from that. “Oh ho ho!
Now I know why you liked picking out Natiri’s leash so much. You were already highly
qualified for the task.” She commented. Whim wiggled his ass, wagging a non-existent tail.
He was a bit envious of Natiri’s tail even if it did sometimes make a mess of things… He was
excited to show his mistress how eager he was. What tricks would she have him perform?

“Speak. Show me how my dog barks.” She commanded. His cheeks were red. He always
found it a little embarrassing when Lady Irlentree made him bark for her, but performing the
undignified act for Vebeva was different… It was an order and he had to follow it. He
whimpered before softly barking.

“W-woof…” He reluctantly barked. She knew he could do better than that.

“Speak!” She reiterated with more force.

“Woof! Bark! Bark!” Whim barked with more enthusiasm.

Natiri heard that from her room and quirked an eyebrow at the sounds Whim was making
before going back to reading. Not only was he a smug bastard, he was apparently a pampered
pup as well. “Good boy… Very good.” Vebeva praised him, running her clawed fingers
through his hair. His arousal was practically palpable at this point. She held onto his leash as
she issued her next command. “Bow.”

Without hesitation, Whim bowed before her, pressing his face and chest against the bed,
leaving his rear up in the air. “Stay.” She commanded, and the human butler remained
perfectly still. Vebeva entered her walk-in closet, past her clothing and towards the back she
selected a spider silk rope dyed purple. When she came out of her closet, she used a tentacle
to tilt his head up, making him look at her as she showed it to him.
“In the art of orbbcress, ropes of this color are reserved for prisoners of high rank and those
of the upper class. This is yours. It is reserved solely for you. Do you understand?” She
explained.

Having something just for him was exciting and it made him feel so good and loved by her.
“Yes, Mistress. Thank you so much! I shall cherish it as it binds me.” He said. She directed
him to lift his calf and she began working on a frog tie, tying his ankle to his thigh. He
eagerly stayed still, whimpering as he felt her tying both of his legs up securely. Within
minutes, his movement was restricted to crawling, kneeling and lying down. She looked
between his legs. Vebeva could see his cock was dripping with precum. He simply couldn’t
help himself.

“Looks like someone’s enjoying himself. I think my pet is ready for his reward, but I have one
last task for you.” Vebeva had his attention.

“A-anything, Mistress. I’ll do anything for you!” He groaned.

“Beg for it.” She commanded.

“Please, make me cum, please! I desire your touch so desperately! My own hands can’t
compare to the feeling of your tentacles! You’re exquisite. No one else can manipulate my
pleasure like you do!” He sang her praises eagerly.

She couldn’t hold back any longer. He let out a soft moan that accompanied her purring as he
felt a slimy tentacle wrapping around his cock, stroking it and he remained bent over on her
bed. “Oh, yes…! You love it when I pet you…” She pointed out. The butler whimpered,
letting her tentacles have their way with him, rubbing against his waist and chest. She used
another one of her tentacles to pull the leash into her hand. She tugged just hard enough for
him to feel the cool platinum metal pressing against his neck.

“T-thank you, Mistress. My love… A-ah…! Thank you. Thank you…!” He whimpered as he
slowly lost complete control of himself. Vebeva practically meditated on milking the helpless
butler, feeling the twitching of his shaft in her tentacle. She wanted more. She needed to be
closer to him. She slipped out of her dress, letting it fall to the floor. Without removing her
tentacle from his member, she got into bed and made him straddle her in her lap, assisting in
placing him with her telekinesis. His eyes rolled back as she tugged at his collar and used a
tentacle to bind both of his arms together behind his back.
“Oh, yes! Yes! Yes! Oohhhh…! I’m yours…” Whim deeply whined through gasping breaths.
Her movements became rougher, as the slicking sound of her tentacle around his shaft
became louder. “My cock is yours… I only use it to please you. Ooh… Mmmnn…!” He
groaned. Vebeva had no concerns about Whim and Natiri sharing a room because Natiri knew
who Whim belonged to. Whim knew Natiri was slowly falling in love with him, but he vastly
preferred his mistress. Whim pulled her deeper into a powerful sensation of lust, loyalty and
love.

She held onto his leash with a shaky hand, Whim closed his eyes and he felt like he was
weightlessly falling into a void. Surrounded by inky blackness. Submission. He was being
loved, embraced from all sides. She was hitting all the right spots. Lit up in the darkness, an
oval shaped halo of purple authority sparked to life, with sides of white and purely honest
love surrounding them.

It was strange but wonderful. Whim couldn’t think much of it other than it was her. It was
him. It was both of them together and he pleaded for her to keep going with little more than
whimpered begging. The ring closed in as Vebeva obliged him. He truly was the perfect
butler. “Good boy…” She groaned in a gooey voice.

“Oh dear…!” Whim groaned.

“Good boy…!” She praised louder. Whim was sweating. He was practically about to burst.
The halo of light closed around them. Whim felt himself cumming, his seed squirting onto
his mistress’ stomach and dribbling all over her tentacle.

He came within her embrace, panting and coming down from the high of his orgasm. Vebeva
held him close, keeping him from falling over. “Oh Vebeva, you’re incredible. No one could
ever compare…” He genuinely complimented her. Vebeva had no idea what happened, but it
was wonderful. Maybe she could ask Caramyn about it later. She seemed to have some
adequate knowledge in these matters.

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Whim…” She held his face in her hands and pressed
her forehead to his. Her tentacles worked to untie him. It took a lot of practice for her to use
them for tying and untying knots, but it made releasing Whim from his bonds far easier and
safer.

“It was a pleasure as always to serve you…” Whim thought back with a smile on his face.
He would have gone straight to cleaning up if it weren’t for the fact that she remained
holding him.
“Natiri, fetch us some water and bring us a towel.” Vebeva commanded. Natiri scrambled to
put the book back in its proper place.

“Yes, Mistress! Coming, Mistress!” Natiri responded.

“Why do you sound so nervous? Are you being naughty?” She teased.

“No! I’m just in my room, reading a book!” She denied.

“Whim didn’t say you could touch his things. If he finds any damage, he’s able to punish you
any way he sees fit.” Vebeva warned her.

Natiri was blushing a bit as she delivered the glasses of water and towel to her mistress.
Whim took the towel, cleaning up his mistress first and then himself. Natiri was dismissed to
go back to doing whatever she was doing. “So… Were you ever caught having that little
affair with Lady Irlentree?” Vebeva was curious.

“By the laundress who then reported it to her husband. When Lord Irlentree caught on to my
affair with the lady, instead of firing me he sent me on the expedition that led me to you in
order to get rid of me. The joke’s on him! His horrid son is dead and I’m here with the finest
ulitharid in the colony.” He said, laughing darkly. Vebeva remembered the delicious
entitlement of that nobleman quite well. The noble was unaware of Whim’s affair with his
mother, but their memories did make Whim seem incredibly interesting to her.

Vebeva held him close, embracing him. “And you’re the finest thrall anyone could ever ask
for.” Vebeva said. Whim knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she loved him. He felt it in her
embrace. It practically radiated from her like geothermal heat penetrating his very psyche. He
smiled, settling into her bed as she held him.

“It’s as you said the day we met. I’ve been chosen to be your favored servant. Have I lived up
to those expectations, Mistress?” He asked.

“You’ve exceeded them, my precious pet.” Her tentacles grabbed the blanket, pulling it over
them. The tenderness of their touch could persist for just a bit longer…
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