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Beneath A Starless Sky

Beneath A Starless Sky

by lenatrueshield
19 min read
4.78 (4400 views)
adultfiction
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Dame Aylin is captured by two drow priestesses during a mission to rescue a child. The two priestesses see in the celestial warrior an opportunity they can't pass up.

Contains: Futa Dame Aylin, Drow Female (2), Threesome, Triple Dom Dynamic, Huge Breasts, Huge Cock (24+''), Ass Play, Rimming, Female Masturbation, Titfucking, Vaginal Sex, Using Sex To Power Magic, Fucked On The Floor, Standing Cowgirl, Blowjob, Throatfucking, Swallowing Semen, Cum On Face, Cum On Tits, Cum Bloating, Excessive Semen, Canon Divergence

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"Γ”, She Who Guides, offer your daughter the strength to bring justice to these darkened lands. I humbly beseech thee to bestow upon me your light so that I may dispel the shadows in their hearts."

Aylin straightened, sliding her sword into its scabbard and flexing her wings. They were of little use in the cramped tunnels of the Underdark, but they still made for an intimidating display against less-intelligent foes who would not be deterred by her heavy armour and gleaming blade.

She furrowed her brow, hand gripping the pommel of her weapon nervously as she looked ahead into the small tunnel. Were it not for her ability to see in the dark, granted by her divine lineage, she would have been completely lost in a place where the only natural light was the bioluminescence of fungi or other vegetation. But these were rare, and so she relied on her limited ability to see in the dark.

While she could see in shades of grey for a hundred feet or so, she very well knew that the beasts and foes of this most dangerous realm could sense her from further away, and in ways she could not even begin to comprehend. She knew, too, that there were eyes upon her at all times, belonging to creatures too afraid of taking her on.

Any foe that would challenge her would have to be mighty indeed, or incredibly cunning. Though she feared little, she had heard tales of the vicious nature of the cavernous realm.

Not only were the fauna and flora of the place an ever-looming threat, but the aasimar could feel herself growing increasingly frustrated at her lack of sex. For not only was she one of the most powerful champions of the Church of SelΓ»ne, she was also undoubtedly one of the most hung, for between her legs hung a fat, ever eager she-prick, long as any woman's arm and easily as thick.

The priests and priestesses (mostly the priestesses) of the Church had told her that her cock was a blessing, a tool to spread the light of the Goddess upon FaerΓ»n, but she mostly found herself spreading legs, instead. A smirk formed upon her lips as she recalled her last such conquest. The woman, a buxom Turmishite, had made no qualms about converting to the faith of the Moonmaiden after their brief dalliance.

The sooner she completed her quest, the sooner she would be back to ploughing cunt.

Aylin's armoured boots made little sound as she slowly advanced, ready to draw her blade at a moment's notice.

She had not come here for personal glory, or on some vague quest for justice. She had come to rescue an elven child, captured and taken by a drow raiding party. The clergy had responded immediately to the attack and sent their most powerful weapon to retrieve the youngling.

And while drow were known to be able to cover their tracks and lay waste to pursuers, Aylin had the Moonmaiden to guide her. Or so she hoped, for the light of the moon did not reach the bowels of the earth.

At last, coming upon a structure in the distance, Aylin stepped behind a rock. At the centre of a massive cavern stood a trio of stalagmites that, judging by the illuminated windows, were inhabited. Stone steps had been hewn from them, circling upwards. Though well over two hundred feet away, she could see dark forms moving through those windows while others patrolled its perimeters.

The place was well guarded, she surmised, for few creatures would give their positions away so readily in the Underdark. And while she was no expert on the matter, the grace of those dark forms immediately conjured up images of the dark elves. Perhaps, she thought, these drow still held the child. Or perhaps they could be persuaded to give her the information she needed.

Taking a deep breath, she set forth. She was no coward, but she would not rush headlong into a battle she could not win, especially not when failure meant the possible death of innocents. Stealth was not an option, however, as the sounds of her armour and her large white wings would make such a task impossible. She briefly considered removing her armour, but she would then find herself unprotected, should she be required to face off against the vile elves.

Every step towards the structure felt like it might be her last, as she attempted to move from one stalagmite to the next.

Her eyes looked up to the dark forms above, searching for signs that she might have been spotted. The patrols continued moving as they had before, and there seemed to be no unusual activity. By some miracle of the Moonmaiden, she had not yet been spotted. Brimming with confidence, the divine warrior stepped to one of the dark iron doors at the base of the smallest of the three buildings that made up the stalagmite-complex.

The door itself had, as was typical of the drow, a spider motif upon it. The paladin inspected the door and saw no traps. And, so, she pushed it open slowly, making sure to make as little noise as possible. She slipped inside and closed the heavy door behind her. The interior was surprisingly warm, though the room itself had little of note within, save for a table and chair in a corner. Two exits, one to her left and to her right, led to more dimly lit passageways.

With little to differentiate the two passageways, and with little time to spare, she turned right.

No sooner had she begun walking down the passage than she heard the opening of a door, merely ten feet from her. She had not seen the door and cursed herself for it. From it emerged a male drow, the swords upon the slender figure's waist immediately confirming his status as a fighter among the dark elves. His red eyes immediately spotted her, and he began unsheathing the deadly looking blades.

Aylin did not hesitate, drawing her own weapon immediately and closing the distance between her and the elf. His two swords came up in a cross, blocking Aylin's downward slash. Sparks flew as the blades met, and the elf stepped back to regain his footing, nearly losing his balance from the sheer power behind the paladin's attack.

The grey-skinned male quickly looked around, and Aylin knew he was considering flight. She also knew that she would not be able to catch up to him, for her wings were of little use in the small corridors of the drow outpost. And so he disengaged from the parry, spinning about the surprised woman with the legendary speed of his kind. Sharp though his blades may have been, however, his strikes only meet the mithral of her plate armour, bouncing off harmlessly.

Aylin grinned and brought her wing down upon him, trapping the elven warrior against her own body. Surprised, the male could not prepare an adequate defence against the move, and found himself completely helpless against the crushing power of that single, white-feathered wing. The paladin could feel him struggling against her, and heard the clattering of his blades as they fell to the floor.

Giving one final squeeze, she heard the snapping of bone and the elf's lifeless form fell upon the ground next to her. She offered his soul a quick prayer before moving on, worried that the sounds of that brief encounter may have alerted nearby occupants.

Her legs carried her up a flight of stone stairs before she came upon another metal door. She opened the door, finding herself upon a bridge connecting the first structure to the second, larger one. A feminine figure, clad in dark robes, standing at the centre of the bridge. A wicked grin upon her lips, she pushed her hands outwards, with thumbs touching. The drow's fingertips seemed to burst into flame as a sheet of white-hot fire surged forth, towards Aylin.

The angelic warrior clenched her teeth and brought forth one of her wings to protect herself, blocking much of the spell. The heat of that spell was such, however, that she could feel her feathers being singed by the powerful spell.

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"Are you all that they sent against us? Are you truly the best that the surface filth can send after us?" the drow said, her mocking words followed by maniacal laughter.

When at last the spell ended and the flames subsided, Aylin pulled her wing back. And though the feathers upon it were blackened, the woman herself remained relatively unharmed. She briefly considered replying, but chose instead to move forward, rapidly closing the distance between her and the spellcaster.

Seeing the unfazed warrior approaching her, the drow was suddenly seized by panic, attempting desperately to cast another spell.

Aylin now stood a mere ten feet from her target, moving quickly and decisively.

Her fingers moved as quickly as they could, weaving her incantation as best she could, and she might have been able to finish the spellwork, had it not been for the fact that her words came out as nothing more than gargling blood. The woman's red eyes widened, and she clutched at her throat, realizing how Aylin had already slashed her neck.

"You will harm no other innocents," spat the aasimar, stepping over the drow as she fell to her knees, then sideways, tumbling off the bridge, to her doom. Aylin only heard the thump of her limp body hitting the ground, well over a hundred feet below.

The door on the other side of the bridge lay unlocked, and Aylin stepped inside. The drow had been prepared, and hadn't seemed surprised by her presence. There remained very little time to find the child, she knew, if they hadn't already been taken away.

Stepping inside the second, central structure, Aylin looked around, groaning in frustration at the four doors ahead of her, none of them offering any obvious indication as to what lay beyond. Her heart sank briefly at the thought that, perhaps, the child had already been taken elsewhere. There were so few of the hated dark elves here... Perhaps they had already moved on.

Yet, she could not let that possibility deter her. And so she charged on, pushing the door in front of her with her foot. The force of that single push sent the door swinging against the wall, and Aylin rushed into the room. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the small elven child chained to the other side of the room.

"Help me..." pleaded the waifish, fair-skinned girl, big blue eyes staring up at Aylin.

The paladin smiled reassuringly, sliding her blade into her scabbard. "Worry not, child. You are safe now," she said reassuringly, voice soft and comforting.

The child nodded in response.

She walked over to the child, taking a brief look about the room. With no obvious threat immediately visible to her, Aylin knelt next to the child to inspect the chains. Despite the small number of enemies she had encountered, she still felt as though some evil was nearby. Her eyes briefly moved to the child, noting how she did not seem to have any bruises on her, though the chains did appear to have cut into her wrists.

"What is your name?" the armoured woman asked as she gripped the chains firmly at the centre, testing them with a few small tugs.

"Miela," came the shy, nervous response.

"Well, Miela, I need you to be brave for me. Can you do that?"

The child nodded.

"I'm going to break these chains so we can leave. Then, I'm going to bring you back to..." she hesitated. The girl's parents were no more, she knew. "I'm going to bring you home."

"I-I'll try."

Aylin nodded, and her hands began glowing with divine light, the golden glow of her power filling the room with its warmth. As that divine power coalesced within her being, Aylin felt a surge of strength, and, gripping the chains, tore them from the wall with a single, powerful tug.

Miela stumbled slightly but managed to keep her footing.

"One down," Aylin said, offering the child a kind smile before quickly doing the same thing to the other chain, the rattling din of that shattering echoing throughout the room and, most likely, beyond it.

"Honestly, surface trash is so predictable..." Miela said, turning her head to Aylin. The voice that came from that small form was no longer that of a child but rather that of a mature, seductive woman.

Gasping, Aylin stared at Miela, seeing how the girl's expressive blue eyes had turned into red pits of malice. The girl's skin took on a grey tone and the paladin could only watch, awestruck, as her limbs lengthened. The aasimar thought to grab her blade, but as her fingers tried to grasp for the weapon, she felt the impact of something soft upon her.

Her eyes looked down in shock to see that she had been blasted with a thick wad of spider silk, and laughter from another woman came from behind her. "Oh, I would have waited longer to spring the trap upon her, Shri."

Aylin couldn't move her neck to see who had appeared behind her. There had been no door there, she knew. Invisibility, perhaps?

"All it cost us were two polymorphed

iblith,

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" the woman said as her shape took on that of a tall,

extremely

feminine drow priestess. "We can find more. Time, however, is not on our side. The caravan with the rest of the..." she eyed Aylin for a moment and decided such words would be better suited for a private conversation. "Either way, the little fly has been caught in our web. We can't leave her here, especially after she went through so much just to find us..."

Though the two spoke in their own dialect of the elven tongue, which Aylin

could

understand, she did not quite understand the word used, spoken in the dialect of the drow, though she did understand its context and the loathing behind it. It was clear to her now that the two lives she'd taken had not been drow, and she cursed herself for it.

The recently transformed dark elf stood with a smug grin over Aylin, staring down at her, proud of the trap she'd sprung on the powerful warrior. The elf was tall and strikingly beautiful, with outrageous curves that strained against the black robes she wore. The aasimar couldn't help but glance at that overflowing cleavage, and she felt a lustful stirring in her loins. Her eyes quickly moved back up to the priestess's glowering gaze.

"You are right, of course, but shouldn't the fun last just a little bit longer?" the other voice said, obviously quite close behind Aylin. The paladin had been struggling against the unbreakable webs that held her, to no avail. Even her wings had been caught in the spell. She could feel a single delicate hand upon her shoulder and the tip of something sharp and cold against the nape of her neck.

Coldly, the buxom drow spoke, "Put the wand away, Val." The tone of her voice made it clear that she would brook no argument. The woman's pure white hair, collected in a tight bun, made her look all the more serious. "I appreciate these games as much as you do, but we are expected, and you know our dear mother will not tolerate tardiness."

Val sighed in annoyance, and Aylin felt the wand's pointed tip being removed. "Of course."

Still holding a wand in her hand, Val made her way to her sister's side, red eyes looking down at Aylin. She seemed amused at the sight of the holy warrior, helpless and bound. Her full lips curved into a cruel smirk.

The woman was, undoubtedly, every bit like her sister. Physically, at least. Though, there was to her a playfulness that contrasted sharply with Shri's own stern appearance and demeanour. And while only the most ancient of elves ever showed any actual signs of aging, it was clear to Aylin that Val was the younger of the two, despite them both appearing to have the mature grace of women in their mid-to-late thirties, by human appearances.

Shri reached down, fingers cupping Aylin's chin. Defiantly staring up at her captor, she was of a mind to simply bite those damned fingers off. Yet, as the dark elf's fingers came into her contact with her skin, Aylin felt the burning rage within her dissipate, replaced by an overwhelming urge to lean into the touch. Had a spell been cast upon her? Or was this simply her own touch starved body reacting to the gentle caress?

Val chuckled. "So receptive. Might we keep her as a dog? I'll train her myself. We've got plenty of soldiers in the complex, just waiting for a chance to slit her throat, should she act up."

So it had been a trap, Aylin concluded. They had simply hidden from her, throwing slaves in her direction to bait her further into the complex.

Aylin's eyes wandered to Val, her form just as curvaceous as her sister's, if not more so, though the difference in clothing perhaps made the younger sister's bust appear larger than Shri's. While Shri wore a simple black gown of drow make, with the material tight upon every curve of her form, Val had opted for a similar, though far less modest outfit. The skimpy dress allowed frequent glimpses at her shapely legs, and various strategically placed patches of sheer material drew the eye to the extravagance of her form, as a lacy bustier pushed her phenomenal chest up.

And while both elves had pure white hair, Val's had been collected in a braid that reached down to her waist.

Shri laughed, fingers slowly leaving Aylin's face. "She can't take her eyes off you, sister. No spell needed, she's already yours. I can just feel how much she wants to..." The spellcaster's eyes widened. "She wants to fuck your brains out. Well, now... That is rather curious." She offered Val a sideways glance, her curiosity piqued.

After a brief moment of consideration, Shri nodded towards her sister, and the spider silk holding Aylin fell away, and the angelic warrior realized that with it had gone her armour, leaving her kneeling in naught but her smallclothes.

Both sisters looked down at Aylin, grinning mischievously.

"

Kunith g'aaissthin...

" Shri uttered, staring at the enormous bulge between Aylin's thighs or, rather, that began between her thighs. Even her smallclothes seemed ill-equipped to handle that ashen behemoth, for its head was already peaking from its leg, halfway down her muscular thigh. "The divine pervert cannot avert her gaze. Perhaps she allowed herself to get caught," mused the woman.

Val clapped her hands excitedly. "A wonderful catch!" she exclaimed, kneeling next to Aylin, excitement palpable in every movement. "Though not a very loquacious one."

The aasimar had made no move to escape, for she knew her chances were nonexistent with neither armour nor weapon. Whether she liked it or not, her best chance at survival, and at saving the child, lay with the two elves. An involuntary flex of her cock nearly threatened to tear her smallclothes apart as her eyes once more defied her will, gaze diving into the grey depths of the woman's overflowing cleavage.

Shri snorted derisively. "Perhaps all the blood went to her appendage."

Tentatively, Val reached out, half-expecting the aasimar to throttle her at a moment's notice. Her fingers came into contact with the beautifully defined muscles of her abdomen, gently trailing along that hard, smooth skin until her nails, painted black, found the edge of Aylin's shorts.

The aasimar eyed the drow for a moment and then nodded slowly. Though she had little choice in the matter, her marble pillar wanted nothing more than to bury itself into the elven whores, to make them scream and squirm with pleasure. Oh, they had sprung their trap upon her. That much was true. They did not, however, suspect that they were walking into hers as well, for Aylin had never met a woman whose mind and body could withstand the assault of her alabaster cock.

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