Knots of Intrigue

Story by Searska_GreyRaven on SoFurry

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An older piece I wrote waaaay back when I was into drow.

Knots of Intrigue

By Searska GreyRaven

Forgotten Realms copyright of Wizards of the Coast. I don't own their world, I just play in it from time to time. ;)

Mistress Balithra Noqu'Zotz clicked her tongue at the slaver's merchandise. "You told me you had a werewolf, Phar'zar. Could it be you lied?" she said, arching one snowy eyebrow. Her skin shone like polished obsidian in the dim faerie light. She dropped one ebon hand to her side and ran her long fingertips over the hilt of her snake whip.

"Matron, I would never lie to one such as yourself," he said, giving the whip a wary look before flicking his gaze back to her face. "I kept the werewolf in the back, out of sight. Didn't want it to be seen before I had a chance to talk to you. You aren't the only one in this city who desires the beasts," he said with a wink. "Though I daresay, you are the only one who requests them with such frequency."

A smile, so slight that the bow of her lips still hid her teeth, curved Mistress Balithra's lips. "Show me to the werewolf, slaver," she ordered. Phar'zar bowed gracefully and led her behind the rows of cages, into a back room concealed by a heavy stone door. It was as dark as a starless night inside the cell, but the two drow could see as clear as if it were day.

As he walked, Phar'zar twisted his fingers in subtle motions, building a silent spell. He had to be careful, so very careful, lest she catch on to what he was doing.

He'd watched Mistress Balithra Noqu'Zotz for months now, carefully following her purchases and the spell components she requested, and eventually discovered her true trade. Virgin's blood, leeches, bat fur and rat tails? These were not the components of any of Lolth's holy rituals. These were spell components, items used as foci for mages. The Matron of House Noqu'Zotz was a secret wizard. He was sure of it. She never left the Temple of Lolth during the day (indeed her students claim she spent the entire daylight hours hidden in a private room, praying to the Spider Queen). But it was a façade. She didn't worship during those hours, she practiced the Art Arcane. And while males were allowed to learn such things, females who where not clerics of Lolth were put to death on sight.

But the slaver kept his mouth shut, and plotted. He didn't want one of his most profitable matrons executed. No, Phar'zar had a much more profitable fate in mind for her.

A door carved with arcane runes stood at the end of the hall. Phar'zar approached and pulled an iron key from his pocket. With a flick of his wrist, the lock opened and he bowed, motioning for the Mistress Balithra to enter first. She gave him a haughty expression and brushed past him.

Phar'zar slipped in and slammed the door behind him. The last syllable of his spell passed his lips, and suddenly half a dozen writhing black tentacles burst from the floor. Before Balithra could even gasp in surprise, she was grappled and pulled to her hands and knees.

Laughing gleefully, Phar'zar approached his new captive. "I know all about you, Balithra."

"Mistress Balithra, male," Balithra snarled. Haughty and proud, even as a captive. Drow are nothing, if not proud.

"You don't worship Lolth. You may wear the robes and speak the holy words, but I know you for what you truly are!"

Matron Balithra's eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly hid her shock. "Oh? And what am I, clever little slaver of No House Worth Mentioning?"

"You study the arcane arts, a blasphemy! You are no high priestess, merely a pretender!" he accused, and cupped the female drow's chin between his fingers. "It is good that I found you. The High Priestesses would tear your heart out to appease Lady Lolth. I have a better fate in store for you."

Lady Balithra's crimson eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't dare," she hissed.

"Oh yes. The Jewel Box brothel is willing to pay a handsome fee for female prisoners. Even better, one caught in the demi-form of a beast. One of their new patrons has desires that run to the...exotic." He drew out the word with a hiss.

Phar'zar's form began to warp, his skin rippled and his bones cracked. Fur pushed free of his naked skin, covering him in a thick pelt as black as pitch. The finery of his merchant station melted into the fur and vanished from sight. His mouth stretched, extending gleaming white fangs and a long red tongue. Within moments, a werewolf stood before the captured drow female. He curled his claws, the tips nicking her soft skin but not breaking it.

"I'm going to infect you with my curse, drow bitch, and then I'm going to _vith_you every night until the full moon. The minute you begin to change, I'm going to trap you in that form between, and you will make me a fortune," he growled. His lust stirred, and the tip of his lupine pride emerged from its furred sheath. Mistress Balithra inhaled, preparing to cast, but Phar'zar silenced her with another spell. Her lips felt numb, her tongue thick behind her teeth. She couldn't manage more than a bestial utterance.

Phar'zar backing up, releasing her from his grip. "Ah-ah, not a word will pass those lips. I can't allow you to dispel my trap now, can I? So, to ensure that you won't be able to suddenly teleport yourself away, I'm going to have to keep that lovely mouth of yours firmly and tightly gagged. And while this spell won't last for more than an hour, I have something that will keep your lips occupied much, much longer."

He stepped around Balithra and unsheathed his dagger. With a sharp flick of his wrist, her spidersilk skirt dropped to the floor, exposing her. She made a sound of surprise and looked over her shoulder. She glared at him, and he laughed, the sound a bass rumble that echoed through the chamber.

"Did you know that the sweat of certain demons can be distilled into a potent drug? The alchemists call it Auril's Tears. It is so powerful, that a few drops administered to the skin will drive one mad with desire." Phar'zar walked to a cabinet on the far side of the room and removed a sapphire phial, stoppered with a crystal. Inside the phial, tiny snowflakes glittered and blew, propelled by some unseen force. He unstopped the tiny bottle and held the thin glass rod over Balithra's exposed back. A single glowing drop filled with swirling white specks shimmered on the tip. Phar'zar flicked the rod with his finger, and the drop fell free, landing on Balithra's skin and forming the image of a snowflake before vanishing.

The moment the drug touched her skin, Balithra shuddered and began to shiver uncontrollably. She writhed in her bonds, the black tentacles struggling to hold her steady.

"Do you feel cold, Mistress? Does it feel like you will never be warm again?" Phar'zar purred. He traced the edge of her pointed ear with his lupine tongue, wrenching a strangled moan from his captive. He flicked his wrist, and one of the idle tentacles undulated against the female's body, rubbing between her legs like an eager cat. Balithra howled, her body twisted, struggling to get closer to the inviting tendril. Phar'zar chuckled, and made a smooth motion with his fingertips. The tentacle slid up her leg and, with a single sharp stab, buried itself between her legs. Balithra screamed, her whole body violently shuddering. The tentacle pulled out slowly, so very slowly, before thrusting into her with another hard stroke. Two more tendrils slithered up her body to cup her breasts and wrap around her thighs. Satisfied that his captive was truly bound, Phar'zar halted the motion of his tentacles. Balithra made a sound of frustration and gave him a pleading look, one so filled with lust that Phar'zar wondered if the Tears had shattered the drowess' mind.

"Please...please, I beg you..." Balithra panted. Phar'zar ran the pad of his paw over the tip of his wolfhood, the tip already dripping clear fluid. His numbing spell must have worn off prematurely. It didn't matter. He pulled back his sheath, exposing his full length. The shaft was slick with his fluids and as red as blood. Balithra's eyes widened as her gaze fell to the base, the place where the canine knot was already forming. The entire length pulsed slightly, getting bigger as she watched.

"Open wide, Mistress," Phar'zar spat. He grabbed the female's hair, pulled her head back, and pressed his breeding tool between her lips. The bound drow female took his length all the way to the knot, and Phar'zar growled with pleasure. She struggled to spit him out, but it only made him harder. His knot swelled until his captive couldn't open wide enough to release him. Her warm lips struggled to get free, driving him closer to the edge. Tongue lolling, Phar'zar thrust harder and harder. He was close, so close, so close--

With a triumphant howl, Phar'zar spilled his seed down the Balithra's throat. She swallowed frantically, her mouth working his pleasure even higher, and he rutted into her mouth as hard and fast as he could. When he was finally spent, he looked down to see her gaze mirroring his own triumph. Suddenly Phar'zar felt as if a pair of needles had been driven into the flesh behind his knot. He howled in surprise and pain, and tried to reel backwards. But he was tied to her, his knot bloated with blood, and he only managed to fall on his backside among his still-weaving tentacles. She pressed him to the floor, her face buried in his crotch, and he felt her swallowing around his shaft, drawing something from the pinpricks behind his knot.

Foolish drow male, to think that you could best a female at this game? whispered a familiar voice in his head.

"Who...what...?" He stammered. His whole body felt like lead. He feebly tried to rise, but fell back prone.

You think me a wizard. I am a vampire, werewolf. And now, you are my thrall. Release me from the tentacles. Balithra ordered. Phar'zar felt his hand go through the motions like a puppet on a string, and the tentacles unwound from the female drow's body. Her voice echoed in his mind, a mocking laugh.

I've been watching you for months, dear Phar'zar. Several nobles are displeased with losing their daughters and sons to your debauchery. It's time the score was settled. Now, my slave, order your tentacles to take you the way you had them take me, Balithra ordered. She spat out the slaver's withering member and grinned at him, baring her fangs. Phar'zar fought it, but his will was too weak and he quickly found himself bound and gagged by his own spell. He was yanked to the floor on all fours, his limbs pulled into the humiliating stance of a bitch in heat.

"A clever thing, this Auril's Tears. If I wasn't undead, it would have worked to perfection. I wonder, what would happen if I used more than a single drop? A werewolf has such a high metabolism...I doubt a single drop will do very much at all," Mistress Balithra glanced at his flagging wolfhood and grinned wider. She opened the phial and dripped three drops on the enthralled werewolf's back. Each one melted into his fur like a wayward snowflake, and with each drop his cock grew harder and longer. By the third drop, he was desperately trying to rub his length against something, anything more solid than air.

"You seem so...distressed, little wolf. Could it be, this drug of yours isn't working?" Mistress Balithra laughed, and trickled three more drops into his fur. Phar'zar howled, lust burning his veins like acid. Balithra bent down and breathed gently across his swollen tip, and his howl turned into a wordless scream. His muscles bunched and his ruff stood on end. Mistress Balithra ran her hand through his fur, smoothing it and scratching her captive behind the ears.

Order your spell to take you, to fill you, until it expires. Balithra ordered Phar'zar. His paw shaking, Phar'zar's hand went through the motions, and as he finished he felt the tip press into his anus. One tentacle pressed against the pointed tip of his engorged wolfhood, inverting as it flowed up his shaft and covered his testicles, and another thrust into him from behind. A third forced itself into his muzzle. Phar'zar's senses were reeling, and he thrust into the tentacle suckling his loins. He writhed and thrashed, trying to increase the friction against the tentacles. The ooze from the tentacle pushed up past the edge of his sheath and sucked until he was harder and longer than he ever thought possible.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mistress Balithra moving her hands. She was chanting something, and just as she uttered the final word of the spell, he knew. She had re-cast the spell, but put some of her own power into the weaving to make the effect permanent. More tentacles sprang up, so many that he couldn't count them. Caressing, stroking, groping, Phar'zar was enveloped in a mass of wriggling tendrils.

Fuck your tentacles, slaver. Fuck them until you can't take it any more! Balithra whispered through his mind. Phar'zar screamed, but it was muffled by tentacles wrapped around his tongue and filling his muzzle. Several more slithered into his backside, filling his bowels and expanding like a knot. The tips writhed inside him, thrusting, pressing, alternately filling and deflating. Thin tendrils wound around his claws and stroked them as if they were an erection. He shuddered violently and moaned as the tentacles increased their attentions. He was so close, so close to orgasm, but he couldn't get that last bit. The answer surfaced through his lust-filled haze--Auril's Tears could bring one to ultimate lust, but it prevented one under its influence from release.

How many drops had she poured on him? He could be trapped on the edge of release for hours. Phar'zar screamed in wordless frustration, desperately thrashing against the hold of the tentacles. More tendrils pressed against his skin, wrapping around his toes, his thighs, his hips, and the ones inside him began to thrust harder, faster, deeper. Another tentacle flowed up the one wrapped around his phallus, twined itself around him. The rippled sensation of something tight and wet pulling at his knot drove every sane thought from his mind. He bucked, his back arching, his claws grasping, tail lashing. His eyes flicked back under their lids until he was certain he could see the back of his skull.

Mistress Balithra Noqu'Zotz stepped around and bent down. The tentacles slowed, and Phar'zar panted heavily, chest heaving. His tongue was still encased in tentacles or it would have been lolling free of his lips. Mistress Balithra ignored him and touched the black ooze with one ebony finger. The ooze shifted to reveal one of Phar'zar's claws. Balithra slipped a ring onto his hand and waved the ooze back in place. She grabbed the scruff of his neck and drew his neck back, whispering into his ear. The tendrils sped up again, the pleasure nearly doubled from the few moments he had been bereft.

"I should kill you, slaver, for your arrogance. But every vampire needs a good thrall to feed on. And I think you'll do quite nicely. The ring will keep you alive without food or water indefinitely. A lovely little piece of work I've been creating. No doubt those components tipped you off to my dabbling. No matter! It was hungry work, and I am...hardly sated." She laughed, and sank her fangs into his throat. Pure ecstasy like lightning arched down his spine, and Phar'zar went limp in his writhing bonds. The tentacles undulated, ripping a strangled moan from him.

Mistress Balithra withdrew, licking the wound to close it. "Ah, lust makes the blood so very sweet." She ran her tongue down her fangs and gave the captive werewolf a cold leer.

"Such a productive visit this was, my dear Phar'zar. I have a feeling I shall have many more with you in the future." With a laugh that echoed through the werewolf's mind, Mistress Balithra left the room, closing the heavy door behind her.

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