Out of the Shadows, Part 9
You carefully peer out through the tent flap, scanning the surrounding forest before glancing back to Belan. "We need to take care of the rest of these drow before we can do anything about your friends," you say. "Khaytala and Relis are out there standing by, and Verika might be joining them any minute. Still... I'm hoping we can do this without unnecessary bloodshed."
Belan glances down at the naked, unconscious priestess still draped over him, clearly understanding what you mean by that. He licks his lips... then nods in agreement. He pulls out of her, rolling her off of him in a tumble of limbs.
Then, after throwing his robes back on, he hurries over to a corner of the tent where the priestess has several of her belongings stashed, and picks through the pile for a few seconds. Soon he unwraps a long roll of cloth and retrieves a mage's staff from it, one of three. Evidently the priestess claimed the valuable items as spoils from the captives.
Once he has his staff back in hand, he walks over to you. "What do you want me to do?"
You give him an appraising look, then nod toward the staff. "First, what spells can you cast with that thing? How much have you learned from your teacher?"
"Mostly healing spells," Belan explains. "And a few other simple cantrips for day-to-day life. Cooking, cleaning, nothing that would be worth anything in a fight. But... I do know some illusions! Like making someone blend into their surroundings a bit better. It's still a long way from a true invisibility spell, but it does help my father a lot when I go hunting with him. And... and I also know a basic lightning dart spell for self-defense." Then his face falls. "Not that it did much good against them."
Hardly surprising. Mage or no, he's far from combat-seasoned, and tagging an elite drow warrior in the heat of battle would be impressive, even for a veteran. "Don't worry," you encourage him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "That kind of magic will be more than useful in the right situation. For right now, though, stay here and keep your head down. This next part I need to do alone. It's going to depend on them not getting suspicious."
You shapeshift from your elf form into an exact duplicate of the priestess. Belan's eyes do widen a little at the sight... but you're pretty sure he'd already figured out that you're more than you appear to be.
The remaining spellcasters are your first targets. You approach one of them, a slender, mousy thing whose white hair is cropped short in a cute little cut. She's watching the approach to the camp anxiously from behind a tree, her own staff gripped tight in her hands. No doubt remembering the carnage that Verika inflicted on them in their first ambush.
You slip in behind her, mimicking the priestess' voice. "Come with me," you whisper imperiously. "Now. Quickly and quietly. There is an urgent matter that needs attending if our trap is to succeed."
The sorceress blinks at you, confused. But she doesn't dare protest. That fear of sadistic reprisal commanded by the woman whose face you're wearing makes your task almost too easy. You lead her off like a lamb to the slaughter, into a more discreet part of the forest where you won't be disturbed. Where no one can save her.
Once you have her where you want her, you move quickly. You start by invading her personal space with a saucy sway of your hips, pushing her back until she's pinned against a tree. "Y-your Eminence...?" she squeaks, swallowing hard at the sudden turn of events. "You Eminence, I... I..."
But you cut her off with a searing kiss, your tongue invading her mouth as your hands slide beneath her garments. You don't have time to play around, and you ramp up the aphrodisiac hard from the beginning. She moans back into your kiss, putting up a weak, reflexive struggle as she tries to understand what is going on. She realizes something is wrong... even if it's already far too late for her.
Soon she's kissing back, embracing the person she thinks is her leader, the heady rush of pleasure overwhelming her caution. You rip away her skimpy clothes, your hands mauling her modest breasts. Then your hands slide down her warm, well-toned back to grip her ass, hoisting her up and pinning her against the tree while she continues to kiss you. At the same time—unnoticed by your prey—your lower regions shift. Restoring a part of your anatomy that the priestess definitely did not possess.
The sorceress is in the middle of a delighted little sigh when you impale her on your cock.
Her eyes go wide with incomprehension, but you don't give her even a moment to collect her thoughts, fucking her hard against the tree while you clamp a hand tight over her mouth. Again and again your shaft penetrates her, her hips still bucking despite herself. Then, with little more point to hiding it, you allow the rest of your transformation to end, the priestess' features shifting into those of a demon, inches away from the drow's own face.
You can see the terror and despair enter her eyes, as—too late—she understands what is actually happening to her. Others might not have understood the full significance, but she's a mage, trained in the occult. She knows full well what it means to take an incubus dick inside her, and she knows she has no prayer of resistance at this point. You can feel her defeated whimper against the palm covering her mouth, and rather than fight, she wraps herself around you even tighter as you plow her against the tree, throwing herself into the act in surrender, making a wordless plea for mercy.
There isn't time for anything fancy or subtle, and these women are too dangerous to play around with. You just pour on the aphrodisiac, until she's nearly blissed out of her mind. "Swear to me," you hiss into her ear, the hand over her mouth glowing with the power of your Corruptive Boon. "Swear to me that you will obey my every command, for the rest of your life."
She nods frantically against your hand. A tear runs down from one eye, yet she's wild with ecstasy as the impossible pleasure crashes against her with each thrust. Satisfied, you release into her, sending her into an orgasm so intense that she slams her head back against the tree she's up against, her every muscle tensing as she tries to pull you deeper into herself. Then she goes limp, and you toss her boneless body to one side, leaving her lying there as you target the next member of the slaving party.
One by one you take them down, moving from one woman to the next with hardly a moment's pause. Their formation—spread out to entrap a stealthy Verika attacking from the outside—is helpless against an enemy attacking from the inside, wearing the face of one of their own, and laying claim to the authority that they're so afraid to cross.
Once you've finished collecting their weary, well-fucked bodies in one place, you order them to travel straight for Kovora and to surrender themselves, without offering any resistance or violence. By then, a few of the more stubborn ones have recovered enough to try and weakly attack you... but when a simple snap of your fingers reduces them to a spasming, drooling, orgasm-wracked heap it really starts to sink in to them just how fucked they really are.
You tell them to give their surrender to Ghazar, the leader of your little band of corrupted, confident that he'll understand what to do. Not that he should have much difficulty. Like you did with the young assassin who targeted Khaytala, you've cranked the lust-inducing effects of your Boon to their absolute limit... and you also order the drow not to give each other any relief over the long, overland trek. By the time they reach Kovora, you expect they'll be just as desperate with need as your first captive was.
Once the drow are dealt with and gone, you and Belan clean yourselves quickly, hiding the evidence of exactly how you accomplished the feat. True to your prediction, his non-combat spells do come in handy; no hands-on cleaning could do as comprehensive a job of removing the effects of your marathon sex session in so short a time as the cleaning charm he draws into the air and directs at both you and himself in turn.
The sight of your true demonic form does shock him. But you give the boy a reassuring grin. "Don't worry," you say, projecting warm camaraderie. "I'm here to help. You said you wanted to save your friends?" At his nod, you continue. "Then trust me. Because I can make it happen. We will save them. And then... maybe then you can show them what you've learned."
You can see the feverish thoughts, the possibilities racing through Belan's head as you continue. "Just be sure not to tell Verika about this," you warn. "Especially what we did with the priestess. She wouldn't understand. Not yet, anyway."
The boy nods vigorously. He clearly has no desire to spread the knowledge of what happened in that tent. Still, with the power of your Boon boiling in his veins, with the experience of losing his virginity fucking an enemy into submission... he doesn't want to turn back either. He's committed to this course now, reaching out for more of the incomparable wonders he so briefly tasted. Following you as his guide and teacher.
Once everything is in order—and you've talked through your next moves—the two of you make your way back through the forest. And, straining your heightened senses, you eventually pick out the sounds of distant, whispered conversation.
"...but what if something went wrong?" That's Verika's anxious voice, and from how the sound is moving she seems to be pacing. "How much longer are we going to wait?"
"Talavar knows what he's doing," comes Khaytala's steady, calm reply. "He's our best shot at pulling this off without the drow hurting any of them. Just have a little faith."
Verika exhales, letting out a breath filled with worry and frustration. You pick up your pace, and soon you're close enough that you can call out to them. "Khaytala! Are you there?"
Immediately the three women race into view, Verika leading the way. She's in much better shape than she was when last you saw her. Her movements have regained their usual cat-like grace and speed, with only the slightest residual weariness visible, even to your eye. It seems the elf cleric's prayers were effective indeed.
When she sees Belan, Verika's face lights up in genuine relief, and she rushes over to wrap the boy in a quick, relived embrace. Then she looks over at you with gratitude. Gratitude that slowly changes to concern. "Wait. Where are the other three?"
"They were already taken when I got there," you say quietly. "Apparently these attackers thought a single hostage was enough to force you to play their game. So they sent the other three captives back ahead of them. Down into the Underworld."
Verika's expression darkens, and she spits out a vicious drow curse. "Of course..." she mutters under her breath, still in the drow tongue. "Of course she would keep a fallback, in case the attempt here failed." Then she looks up at you, pained urgency in her eyes, and speaks in the Nelin tongue once more. "I have to go after them. When you were in their camp... did you happen to see which one of the drow was carrying—?"
"This?" you offer, holding up the wrought-iron loop into view. "I'm not certain... but I'm guessing that this is what you call a 'shadowgate'?"
Now that causes Verika's eyes to widen. "Wait, you got their shadowgate too?" she asks, astonished. "How in the hells did you pull that off?"
Her coal-black eyes lock with your own, evaluating you anew, with a razor-sharp gaze. You get the feeling that before now, she mostly thought of you in relation to Khaytala. The unassuming tiefling lover her friend had fallen for, who might give her happiness or might break her heart. But now she's looking at you.
By taking on the drow encampment single-handed, you've proven yourself a force to be reckoned with in her eyes. More than that, she realizes that you're much more than you were letting on before. It's not antagonistic—not yet—but there is a wariness there that comes with the simple realization that she misjudged you so badly.
The question is how to respond. Fortunately, you discussed this with Belan beforehand, and worked out exactly what to say when this question inevitably came up.
You could play it cagey, and imply that it was a secret ability—though perhaps hinting at a different sort of secret power than what it actually is—and simply not say anything concrete. It's not like Verika doesn't have her own painful secrets that she's clearly loathe to bring up, and you could gently point that out. Such an approach would give Verika the least to go on, with little set in stone that could trip you up.
Still, given how wary she is already, even if you avoid outright mistrust it would almost certainly inflame her curiosity, prompting her to keep a much closer eye on you as she tries to puzzle out what you're hiding and whether or not it's actually a threat. That could create problems... though it could also be used to your advantage as well.
Alternatively, you could claim that you drove them off by using a power from the brand on your palm, and explain that you don't like to advertise it because you have no idea what it is, or why it appeared on you, and suspect that it might be from a malevolent source. That's more or less the truth... except you'd need to spin a tale giving it the power to handle the encampment without the parts that required your incubus nature.
That approach would allow you to explain your powers, without revealing what you actually are. But if you're pretending to be honest and open, it would leave more false details in play about what "really happened" for you—or more likely, Belan—to possibly fumble over in an unguarded moment.
Finally—and most daringly—you could just come clean and admit your incubus nature, though not that you work for Kovora. This would obviously make her deeply distrustful of you and your motives with Khaytala. But it would at least set almost everything out into the open. Probably suicidal in most situations, with how little work you've done on her so far... but in this situation, she's in desperate need of help to save the captives before something awful happens to them.
Such a drastic approach would obviously set you at extreme odds with her. But rivalry and tension aren't so opposed to seduction as one might think, and it could allow you to mount a much more direct campaign of seduction in that context.
Assuming, of course, that your read on her is right, and she really is desperate enough to save the captives that you can convince her not to kill you outright.
So. How do you explain your victory?
