Von’s worst nightmare by Vonaugh

Vonagh is angry. And with that anger, his chest tightens; his hands fist. He is helpless. He hates feeling helpless.

It started with their arrival here, and grew with the talk of attending a feast. He didn’t want to attend a feast. In fact, he would want to be anyplace but at a feast. He had not mentioned to Rylyrr yet, but he had started the ritual known as Selds d’lil Im or Vow of the Heart. It was a ritual of lovers, and the first part of it begins with the male fasting for 5 days. It was going to be a surprise. So, when he found himself seated in front of the rows of food, it was with a heavy heart that he had to break his vow and eat. The food was grand, naturally. But to him it was a curse; a sign that his love is doomed. If he couldn’t get through the first few nights of Selds d’lil Im, how would his love survive true trials? So, he ate everything set in front of him with little more than a pathetic glance in the direction of his lover. If he did not, he would most likely be skewered for insolence, or worse – for loving another man. Trying to put on the best show for the Matron, Rylyrr’s Grandmother, he drinks the wine and enjoys himself, commenting on the exotic but sterile architecture rather than anyone in the room. Some of the servants had heard of him, and with them he chats and passes away the time.

The night was worse, if that was possible. After having watch Rylyrr play the part of the Elderboy of another house and Grandelderboy of this one, and having to watch the growing advances from that red haired witch that showed an interest in him, he is eventually taken to his own room. It is plain and overheated. There is a sauna in the small round back chamber. To top it off, the servants had thought he was in need of one, for it is already roaring. The hot dry rocks are roasting the room, and a pail of water sits beside them, ready for him to steam up the chamber.

He didn’t need heated rocks and buckets of water to steam. He was furious. This vithing sucked! He hated it here. He hated Rylyrr’s Grandmother. He hated the Priestess and he hated this over hot room.

The simplistic mental reassurances from his lover just don’t seem enough right now. He wants to be held and to be taken someplace open and cool. Someplace away from oppressive women and stuffy responsibilities. And even after feeling the promises to do that soon, it isn’t enough. He can’t help but shake this feeling that we are both doomed. And when he gets a feeling like this in his stomach, he can’t let it go. So all it takes is a second of hesitation in Rylyrr’s thoughts to fuel the panic that had already taken hold. There was a woman at his door! He knew it! He would go there and tear her vithing head off! And then we would HAVE to leave and never ever come back!!

Storming to the door, his fingers wrap around the handle, but it is too late. A gentle rapping on his door signals another woman has come to doom us both.

He steps away from the door, clutching his hand to his chest. If he doesn’t answer it, it will not be real. His heart was thundering, knocking its own way out of his ears. It could be that he heard just his heart.

Waiting…thud thud… thud thud… waiting… thud thud … thud thud… KNOCK

The knock almost sends him rocketing through the ceiling. Oh shit… Doom was on the other side! He almost screams to Rylyrr, << NO!! NO! This can’t be happening! >>

There was a time in which the young artist enjoyed women; there had been some in his short life. He was a celebrity, and much to the chagrin of many of the warrior men who tried to gain the eye of a woman, he had no problem finding a date. But that was before Rylyrr and before Yas’anon. Rylyrr, he loves, but that was not enough. He is drow, after all, and lust rules in their hearts, while love rarely shows. Yas’anon though, tortured him in the most humiliating ways. One doesn’t just get over that. And while Vonagh has done a good job of not dwelling in what occurred, the result was an intense fear of all things female.

He can’t open the door. He knows who is there, and he can’t open it. But a sharp command from Rylyrr to obey the summons has him jumping, his fingers grabbing at the knob once more. He throws it open and finds…

One of the servants that had recognized him in the banquet hall.

She was pretty, her hair tied up in two braids on either side of her head. They looped outward and then the strands feathered out from there like a playful fan. Her eyes were almost pink in color, and her cheeks had been painted with a similar hue. She wore a dress of simple silk, in cream and brown colors. She was taller than him not by much, only a few inches, and for some reason it made her seem all the more friendly.

She was not the face of doom he had expected.

Backpedaling into the room, he opens the door wide, “Is there something I can do for you?” He searches for her name, “Luadria?”

She smiles gently and enters, “Nau. I .. I am embarrassed to admit this.. but I just wanted to speak with you a bit longer. I’m still surprised to have met you, Vonagh Noluonin. I never ever thought I’d meet such an amazing artist.” She glances around.

Vonagh shuts the door, and locks it. He would move a chest in front of it if it didn’t mean he was then trapped in this sauna with a woman.

She gives him a crossways look, “Is something wrong?”

Vonagh frowns, his back was to the door, “Tell me why you are really here.” To Rylyrr, he informs him of where he is, and who was here. << A servant girl, she was at the feast. Her name is Luadria, and I think she is a fan. It doesn’t make sense, Ry. I don’t trust her. >>

Pulling her hands from around her back, she presents him with a box, bright red and wrapped in a ribbon, tiny bits of shell were tied atop it decoratively. “I thought you might like some V’tawss Ssinjini.”

Von’s mismatched eyes lower eagerly to the box upon hearing of the contents. He loves those candies. They were a delicacy that only the twisted drow could enjoy. The centers were created from a precise mixture of jellied roth hooves mixed with honey vodka, then covered with a silken coating of crushed llalra beetle chitin that had been blended with milk and sugar and condensed over a low fire. They were seductive and smooth, like a tiny orgasm in your mouth. They were also expensive; sugar was not easy to acquire in Vvrock’uvin.

Even though the young artist’s mouth waters at the prospect, he thinks it made her even more suspicious. “Nau, maybe we should go for a walk and talk?” If she did just want to talk, she should be more than happy to see him in public, that way she had proof they had been together. All he can think of is the doom hidden in her sweet pink eyes.

Her smile grows as she places the box down on the corner of his bed. “I don’t want to go out and walk.” Sauntering over to the rocks that were busy heating up the room, her hips sway seductively so that her silken skirts slide open along her side, revealing her long smooth thigh. “In fact, I rather enjoy it in here….. alone.”

Vonagh’s eyes widen in surprise, the doom swelling in his heart. He now has a better clue to why she was here. He is in a sticky situation. Drow women aren’t easily dissuaded once they have a man in view. He stammers, deliberately trying to make himself look as unattractive as possible, “Look, um.. Luadria.. I.. think you’re prett… uh.. um.. lovely.. and all that.. but it has been a long day.. and,” he yawns wide, making sure to stretch upwards cartoonishly wide, “I’m just so very tired.. You know … how far away Olath Xal is.. and that.. so. .. we can just .. talk tomorrow, xas?”

She doesn’t look back at him; she just reaches forward and scoops the small silver cup free from the bucket of water. Stretching forward, she upturns the cup and lets the water dribble bewitchingly over the stones. The water instantly hisses and steams as it touches the hot earth. It fills the chamber with billowing humidity.

Vonagh continues, “Yah, thanks, I wanted to relax alone, you know, until I went to sleep, because… like I said… it’s been a long day.” He finds the moisture stifling, dizzying and suffocating. His head swims in the heat. His hand once more curls around the handle of the door behind him.

Reaching back, her sleeve droops off her shoulder, falling low enough to reveal more of her creamy dark skin and the top swell of her breast. She turns and lifts her hands up into her hair, pulling a comb free. Her braids cascade damply down her shoulders like thick icy cords. And then she is close, moving before Von can open the door. Her sultry hands land on his shoulders, her voice steams with hot, sexual desire, “Vonagh, relax; let me massage your shoulders. That’s it. I just want to talk and help you relax.” Her nimble fingers are skillful and dexterous, working deeply into his knotted, solid muscles.

Vonagh is frozen, her hands did feel wonderful, and as they continue to slide up his shoulders and down again, he felt looser. It has been a long time since a woman’s hand had touched with him with kindness.

Her pink eyes are bright, and she smiles genuinely. Her voice is gentle and charming when she asks, “So what is it like living in Olath Xal?”

Vonagh’s hot skin drips with sweat, his head swims in the heat, “It is not bad. It is different than Vvrock’uvin. It is a city of power and a city of misfits.”

She purrs whimsically, “A city of misfits?” While Vonagh is distracted in thought, she reaches down his torso and lifts off his shirt. The stifling heat had already soaked through the tight undershirt, and its removal lets his skin breathe. For the moment, it felt good, less suffocating.

Vonagh nods, his head feels loopy, “Xas. It is hard to describe, but the Matron is not like any other Matron I have known. She tolerates the differences in people, and she uses them to her advantage. So, someone like me, who has a variety of skills, can grow and work in an important position and I’m not tossed out on my ass just because my eyes are mismatched.”

She looks from his crimson eye to his caramel one, “And just what do you do, Vonagh Noluonin?”

Vonagh is feeling hotter by the second, his head was swimming, “Oh, I’m … Artist.. and Seer.” He smiles drunkenly, his eyes drift to the stones, the source of his sudden abandonment. The drug she added to the water had been fast working, and even as he sees his approaching demise, he is powerless to do anything but answer, “Their Little Dreamer. I see things. But they have to tell me what I see. I black out a lot.”

She seems interested in this, “Is that so? What types of things have you seen?” Even though the Little Dreamer was under her control, she takes a moment to appraise his tight body. He is cute, small and tight. Muscles were well defined and ripple under her press, and he has those sweet dimples that crown his belly button, those tight indentations always made her knees weak.

Vonagh shrugs and his head falls back against the door with a soaked thud, “Things.. future events… battles.. blessings of Lolth.”

Her hands freeze, “Blessings? Why would you be shown blessings, male?”

He doesn’t notice the darker tone in her voice, “I don’t know why. I don’t know how.”

Using a natural pause to think, she lifts off her shirt, “Would you like to touch me?” Her breasts were round and small, perfect. She hones her body well, keeping it perfectly conditioned like she keeps her blades flawlessly sharp.

Vonagh shakes his head, “I don’t think I would.”

Her hands slide down his pectorals to his abdomen and her fingers hook under his low slung belt. “Why not?”

He wavers against the door, “I’ve a lover. I don’t want another. I really don’t like women.” Rivulets of sweat drip down his ebon skin like tiny sorrowful streams of captured heat.

She glares, “You what?”

He mumbles on despite her tone. “I was going to perform Selds d’lil Im for Rylyrr. I’m his lover. We are there for each other.”

She releases him to step over to the box on the bed. A disgusted glance in his direction assures her that he is just standing there like a stoned statue. Her unapproving glare turns to a dark smile as she tugs open the ribbon, inside the box she lifts free one of the small shell-shaped candies and then returns. Placing it on his lips, she whispers thickly, “Have a bite.”

He opens his mouth and then bites the offering. The decadent candy had already started to melt in the heat, tiny drops of moisture clung to the delicious morsel. The instant it passes his lips, it dissolves delicately and cascades into each of its finespun components. He doesn’t even have to chew, he drinks down the orgasmic sweetness, and it fills his belly with a heat that surpasses the steam in the chamber. She purrs triumphantly, “See, that’s a good boy. Have something and I have something for you.” Leaning forward, her breasts rub against his chest and she wraps her lips affectionately around his. She would have her fun first, slow and smooth, just like the candy.

Her fingers wrap around his belt, she tugs at the primitive buckle, finding nothing but frustration as the latch refuses to slip. Vonagh laughs drunkenly at her fumbling. His laughter is delicate and slurred and just light enough to make her laugh too. When he steps forward suddenly, his reeling balance tumbles into her shoulders. She grabs him and twists, his belt opens and together they sprawl into the bed.

Lifting up her skirts, she climbs over him, her knees on either side of his damp, hot body. All it takes is a tug downward and his pants drift just low enough to free his growing rod. His hands land on her bare thighs and he can feel a rush of naked heat settle atop his crotch. She slides up him and down again, working his hardening member between her neatherlips. The candy wasn’t working as fast as she would like it to work; she wanted him erect by now. Tossing her head back, her soggy braids flop back over her shoulder and she sings, “Come on, Little Dreamer, Tell me more about Olath Xal and your visions.”

Vonagh can barely hear her through the wavering haze in front of his eyes. And yet somehow, his mouth moves and words spill out of their own accord. He doesn’t know what he says, but with every breath, she seems more pleased with the information she gets. Eventually words stop, and his head droops to the side. His eyes fail in focusing on anything save for the throbbing need that was growing in his belly. The candy had been hot, and its sexual magic spread down his veins like magma. It swam through his mind and through his crotch and made everything in his world a hot, moist, beautiful thing.

As the candy works its magic, the room quickly fills with the sounds of grunts and gasps, of bodies rubbing against one another in a frustrated need to experience extreme pleasure and not getting it fast enough. Time swirls about; passing unknown, all that mattered to the pair was need, heat, and pleasure.

Their cries grow louder, the motions faster and harder as they announce together the arrival of their simultaneous breathless peak. Suddenly, she screams and reaches into her hair, “XAS!!!!” And her body clinches down on his. Von’s eyes open, just in time to see the dirk plunging down toward his throat. His hands latch around her wrist, forcing the stroke to the side. He can’t stop her momentum, but he can redirect the blow. The pick dives deeply into his shoulder. With a sickening yank, the knife slurps free from his gripping flesh, and only then does he scream, though not in pleasure but in agony. Blood rushes to fill the hole, running in an endless black stream down his chest.

The woman’s face contorts from intense pleasure to insane madness as she tries again to strike at the man beneath her. She grips him with her thighs and inner muscles, knowing he is so close to orgasm that he could be distracted by the rippling along his swollen manhood.

The attempt is futile, survival is at stake. Rather than give in to bliss, he fights back. Hands that were still wrapped around her wrist suddenly erupt with flickering flame.

She screams and shoves herself away; she did not know he was a fire user. Falling back from his lurch, she lands ungracefully on the sweaty floor. Her feet slip on the slick stones as she pushes herself back, “You abomination!” She spits.

Vonagh’s crimson and caramel eyes narrow at the bitch that tried to kill him. Bitch. Woman. With every beating of his heart, he wants back in her, but knows she would only try to kill him again. Fear and anger throb through his veins; the heat continues to surge throughout his body, and with a single breathless thought, he wishes she were dead.

She feels it first, a burning heat centered inside her belly. It swells before she even knows what is about to happen. And then her whole body erupts with explosive flames. The fireball blasts through her, around her, and then is sucked back into her in a huge concussive blast so hot that it melts metal, chars skin, and evaporates the humidity out of the air.

For a moment, all he can do is glare at the dead body of the assassin on the floor. She still twitches; her hair smolders, her skin black as coal and sizzling. Even her eyes were scorching in their sockets and blood was bubbling from her mouth, he knew she was dead or soon would be. And despite the cold chill of what he had done, the heat was spreading rapidly through his chest and belly anew, desire.. need… burning… hot… need. His right hand was barely responsive; the dirk had punctured directly below the joint. Dark blood continues to rush from the wound, but he couldn’t think about that now. He had to warn Rylyrr. Scooping up all of his belongings, he shoves everything he could grab, including his clothes into his pouch. Shirt, pants, items that had fallen out were pushed into the magical pouch, gobbled up by the extra-dimensional pocket. Oh he was so vithing hot… he glances over again at the woman’s dead body.. she wouldn’t know. NO! Goddess, that was just disgusting to think about. Reaching into the pouch he finds a small rod, something Rylyrr had given him. It would take him directly to his lover, from any place on the planet. Cupping it tightly, he thinks of the activation command and the room of death dissolves around him …

Sat, Dec 3rd – 0:05AM