A Drow's Dilemma Ep. 34: Corruption

Author's Note:

A Drow's Dilemma began as a one-on-one roleplaying project and has been converted into a chapter-by-chapter format for weekly posting with the permission and assistance from my partner. It will contain a considerable amount of sexual themes such as femdom, lesbian, straight, 'reverse' rape, BDSM, group sex, romance, and other themes. The main goal of the story, however, is to tell an epic tale of adventures, gods and goddesses, fae, and nymphomaniacs. This episode and every episode to come will be available for free on Literotica for the foreseeable future. All characters that engage in sexual or suggestive situations are mentally and sexually mature: the human equivalent of 18 for their race.

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Episode 34: Corruption

He woke to the sound of a woman's voice - a voice that sang tragic lullabies in an ancient, unwritten language. Even for one who could not understand the secret language, there was no mistaking the heartbreak within the verse. But it was a beautiful heartbreak, a thing that made the world go silent just to catch the half-heard, half-understood words. A slender, delicate hand ran though his dark hair as the woman sang. His head was pillowed on an elegant lap clothed in fabric as soft as gently flowing warm water. While Caleldir had expected to awake comfortably in a woman's arms, the song, gently pulling him from the realm of the unconscious to that of the living, was unexpected. A beautiful surprise, at first. But as his mind floated towards alertness, he realized that something was amiss. That song should not be. He had heard its like before: sung by a diminutive Archmage in the same, mysterious language. This was a fae song indeed, and not one sung by Althaia, the fey that had a right to be singing in the room where he awoke. But though panic welled up in his chest, the magic of the song, literal or not, kept him from feeling too very worried. Logically, he knew that the beauty of the tune should increase, not decrease his worry, but emotionally he was too busy enjoying it to care much.

His eyes fluttered open, and he saw the light and airy bedroom the two of them were currently in. The sun shone through white curtains and interwoven branches. A bed furnished the room, and not much else. It was luxuriously soft and covered by equally soft and warm blankets, which currently covered his naked body. Leaves cast a green shadow that dappled the small room. Other than those shadows, it was bright. Much brighter than the forest he had fallen asleep in.

He looked up at the woman whose lap pillowed his head, and a face as hauntingly lovely as the words the passed her lips. She wasn't quite the unnatural beauty that a nymph would be. No, her face was all the beauty of nature combined into one visage. Her skin was as pale as the bark of a birch tree, and would be easily mistaken for a flawless version of that same material. A cool breeze rose in the room to make curtains gently billow outwards and pull at her light green hair dappled with blossoms so purple they were almost black. Was it hair, or soft leaves that decorated her head? At first glance it was one, and at the next it was the other, the third it was both, only for the process to start over again at the first. Her dress - just a few shades whiter than her skin - billowed softly in the breeze. For just a moment it hugged every curve of her small but perfectly shaped breasts before resting again. In its resting form, it hung loosely from her shoulders and was just sheer enough to see the outline of her body shadowed underneath. This was a dryad. And a full dryad, not a half-blooded child of one, like the diminutive Archmage who fit such a similar description. Quite possibly a relative of hers, in fact. Unbidden, his eyes darted to the rest of her body, as beautiful as her face. Even though by this time Caleldir had had more than his fill of beautiful women, he could not help but find her highly attractive, and he could feel his body responding accordingly.

"Good morning, my love." She said when saw his eyes open. Her words forced the music to stop, which was a heartbreak almost as wrenching as the song itself had been. But a smile blossomed on her full, red lips to lessen the ache of it. "You must have been asleep for an age."

"Good... morning." He said slowly. She had called him 'her love'. That was probably not a good sign. Still, he would give her the benefit of the doubt. With that in mind, he sat up, rubbing the last vestiges of the sleeping poison from his head. "So... Forgive me, but I went to sleep surrounded by my party deep in a basement, and wake up here. I am afraid that I do not understand how. Especially because this does not seem to be a dream, despite you being the sort of person I would expect to see in one."

She tilted that beautiful head. Her strangely colored hair spilled over one shoulder with the motion. That smile remained on her face, but there was a certain... hollow look to her eyes. It was as she remembered a traumatic moment from long ago that had particularly displeased her. She shifted closer to him until she rested on one hand. Her other hand brushed against the bare skin of his back, a feather-touch that was meant to be comforting. "Do not speak of those people, darling, for I have long since rescued you from them." She said in her voice like a sighing of wind through the oaken branches that cradled them. Her lower lip bloomed into a slightly trembling pout as if she were on the verge of crying. Indeed, the liquid green of her eyes shimmered with unspent tears. She looked down at the hand that she leaned against. "Their evils will no longer touch you. They shall sleep for an eternity underground, where they belong."

Caleldir had spent centuries as a ghost, and was even now trapped between life and unlife. There was not much that could unnerve him. But this dryad certainly was doing a good job of getting near to it. She reminded him of Selene at her worst: just barely hanging on to a semblance of sanity, ready to fly off the handle and attack at any moment. However, unlike Selene's former psychosis, the dryad seemed to be a bit more delusional and less... dominatrix-y, if that were a word.

And so it was that Caleldir decided against his first instinct, which was simply to whip out a blade, back out of the room, and throw himself out of the tree they were no doubt inside. No, that might make the woman unstable. Well, more unstable. Instead, he decided to try a more gentle tact. As of yet, she did not seem to mean him any harm. He would be really angry if she had done anything to Ashyr and Selene, though. Her words would at first seem to indicate that she had killed them, but the more literal interpretation, 'sleep', when considered in context of the sleeping poison currently circulating through Caleldir's own body, probably meant that just that: she had caused them to fall asleep. If so, he would have to be careful here, in case he needed the dryad's help to wake them up.

"But this is old news." She said while Caleldir's mind raced. "I have something new to share with you, my love, something that has been on my mind for quite some time now." That is, for almost a thousand years. Her eyes shone with a soft light that could aptly be described as motherly. The tears were fading from her eyes now, replaced by a slight, hopeful smile. "Do you want to hear it?" The wind picked up again for just a moment to reveal a passageway that a curtain had covered. Beyond the bedroom was a similarly brightly lit space that looked like a dining room - if all the furniture had been crafted from branches and leaves. Before the curtain fell back again, there was adequate time to gaze upon an elegantly half-tented cradle complete with mobile and rocking chair beside it.

Closing his eyes, Caleldir resisting his urge to shrink from her touch, to bolt away. "Forgive me, but I do not remember you. Perhaps I have lost that memory. Who are you, and who am I?" Once he gathered whatever it was that the mad dryad was thinking, he would better know how to proceed.

Her eyes softened to what looked like pity. Her hand moved from his back up to his hair to gently message his head. Loss of memory was something she could understand: something that she couldn't be angry with him about. It hurt her a little, though, to hear that he did not remember her. Not that they had ever met in reality, but the creature did not exactly live in reality.

"I am Naliira, a wood elf from the Tree, last of her kind. You are my husband." Her hand moved to caress his face. There was love in her slightly alien eyes. Love and madness. "You were kidnapped and taken from our home. The evil ones made you believe the most terrible things." The tree around them groaned with the sadness and stress of it. Naliira didn't seem to notice. There were tears in her eyes again, this time enough to escape and slide down a beautiful cheekbone. "But as I have said, they cannot harm you any further. You are safe from them now, dearest one.

Caleldir started. He had known a dryad by the name of Naliira long, long ago, but his memories of her were very fuzzy right now, buzzing around in the back of his head where he could not find them. A wood elf? This 'Naliira' was no wood elf. Well, perhaps an elf made out of wood. Yeah, she had gone crazy, and was possibly affecting him with her insanity. That was all there was to it. And part of her madness was believing him to be someone that he was not: her husband. And, supposedly, Ashyr and Selene had kidnapped and brainwashed him. Well, he would not put it past Selene to do such a thing, but he was not about to accept that premise. The dryad was the kidnapper, of course. "I was kidnapped by the drow? That is a tragedy indeed." His tone was artfully neutral. "And they seemed so nice... Well, I hope that you did not cause them any permanent damage. Kidnappers or no, they were nice to me." For the moment, he would play along with her madness. Just until he was able to find a way to escape.

"I have not touched them." Well, except when she disentangled their limbs from Caleldir. The line of conversation actually seemed to start irritating her. The tree groaned again in warning, and a dark look passed her face. "Please, let's not speak of the past. You are here now, and that's all that matters." She pled with him, the tears now running along her perfect jawline and dripping onto her lap.

That skin-crawling feeling that Caleldir had had ever since waking up was becoming more and more justified as time went by. The darkness in her face, combined with the way that the tree around them groaned with her wrath, well, it was disturbing. This was no ordinary dryad, Caleldir could feel. She was something a bit more... powerful. And old. Oh. Was not there that ruin about the rotting dryad that ruled over a grove of ever dying never dead trees? Well, he had just found her. And he should have known who she was, but he could not remember. At least Ashyr and Selene were safe. They would break out of the spell and come looking for him. All he needed to do was escape and go find them. Despite the crawling feeling under his skin, Caleldir was far from heartless, and when he noticed the tears flowing down the woman's face, he melted a little. Carefully, he brushed one of them away. "I am sorry to bring up things that hurt you so."

He was letting her change the subject. With that happy thought to focus on, the tree stopped groaning. The sadness melted from her face as if it had not even been there. "Don't you want to hear the wonderful notion I've had? It will make everything better."

The sudden change in emotion took him by surprise, but he quickly recovered. "Of course I would like to hear that notion, Naliira." Stifling down his unease, he fixed Naliira with a quiet smile, waiting for her to tell her what she so desired.

Naliira looked down then, and a blush actually formed on her face. It was only slightly unnatural-looking, as if the skin itself changed color instead of blood vessels underneath expanding to show the red of blood. Her hand fell from his head to her own stomach. Her fingers pressed against the soft cloth of her dress, pale mingled with white just a layer of cloth away from smooth flesh. "I've decided that I'm ready-" She paused, and embarrassed smile grew was odd grace across her rosy lips. It was as beautiful as any other smiling expression she'd made. "I want to have a baby." Just her eyes rose to look at him through heavy eyelashes to see how he reacted to her declaration. Leaves that had been creating soft susurrations in the wind halted like a breath held in anticipation. This was clearly of vast importance to the dryad who thought she was a mundane elf. It was something that she had poured all her hopes and aspirations into for the majority of her lonely life.

As she spoke, the smile froze on his face. Oh no. Not this again. He was trying to stay faithful to the two drow, but the universe kept conspiring against him. He had to escape now rather than later. "Errr..." He said, the words refusing to leave his throat. He composed himself. "I am afraid that you are quite mad, my dear. I am not your husband, and I am not going to give you children. You are delusional and have stolen me away from my actual mates. I am sorry, but I must bid you farewell." With that, he executed a mad dash for the curtained door and out into the living quarters. Aside from the nursery, It was a blackened, diseased place covered in dust and odd purple pustules. But it looked as if those unseen rooms had been exactly like that for centuries - perhaps even over a thousand years. No one had been in that part of the tree for very long time.

Unfortunately for Caleldir, his response to her declaration was just about the last thing that Naliira wanted to hear. There was a moment of absolute heartbreak in her eyes, the look of hopes and dreams crushed by someone she trusted more than anyone else in the world. Then all goodness fled from her visage as she looked up at the man who dashed away from her. It didn't do him much good to run that way. The only way off of the tree was through the tree itself. There was a balcony where one could look out upon the rotted forest, but it was loosely caged with the branches of the oak tree that cradled them. Not that he could have even gotten that far. Another sound ripped from the old oak tree, though this time it was more of a scream than a groan. Hard branches whipped out to grasp at Caleldir's limbs and torso with near bone-breaking strength. The whole living and dining room became completely cast in shadow until the room was reduced to dark shades of green and purple.

In the meantime, the dryad rose from her reclined position on her bed. She walked with stalking purpose into the next room where Caleldir had run. As she passed through the threshold between bedroom and dining room, half of her snarling face seemed to melt and bubble. That half became demonic, though it still had a sort of wicked loveliness about it that did not altogether clash with the pale side of her face. It was her hair that changed the most. Its material shifted, blackened, rotted. And yet tears flowed down her face from eyes that held more pain than any creature should really have to endure.

"If you will not cooperate, I will take it from you, husband." Her voice was like a wailing gale across the forest; terrible, dangerous, and incredibly angry.

Barely able to breath, he looked out over the tree, now showing its true, corrupted colors. His eyes darted to Naliira, stalking forward, her face a mask of strangely beautiful decay. He swallowed. The mixture of wrath and sadness was terrifying. "I am not your husband!" He gasped out. "You are mad! I try to keep telling you! I am not yours; I belong to the women that you stole me from! I cannot give you what you want, so let me go!" Manifesting a dagger in his hand, he attempted to stab himself. As a ghost he could easily escape from her. Normally, he would be more cautious about using his trump card, but Goelon Duvainor would not harm a dryad, no matter how mad she be.

Surprise made her eyes widen she she saw the dagger manifest in his hand. Was he... was he going to try to kill her? With that? But no, something was different. It looked as if he was trying to stab himself. Terror flashed in her eyes to mix with the intense pain that made her eyes shine with tears. Her spider-like hands reached forward as if to stop him, but the branches of the oak tree acted first to curl around Caleldir's wrist before he could do any damage to himself. Branches forced his arms together above his head to prevent him from pulling the same trick. Then the almost impossibly strong vinelike branches forced Caleldir to his knees in front of Naliira with his arms still safely above his head.

"You would kill yourself before staying here with me?" She also fell to her knees, apparently unable to stand under the weight of that realization. Her hair seemed to curl and reach toward Caleldir of its own volition.

"I am not killing myself." Caleldir protested. "I am a ghost: and I can make myself more powerful through actions that would kill most mortals." Not that he really expected her to believe him. "I was doing this long before I met Ashyr and Selene. They are probably very worried about me..." he said regretfully.

"Darling, fight that control those evil women have over your mind." She pleaded. "It is you who are mad." A mottled hand came up to caress the side of his jaw. Her own face followed her reach soon after to press a desperate kiss against his lips, one that he couldn't return. Her appearance hadn't gone back to as he first saw her, but she at least seemed less angry and more hurt. "I will show to you my love that you may remember me."

Without additional warning or provocation, her features flipped from incredibly sad back to incredibly angry. "You will give me what I want whether you want to or not." She hissed the words, and almost spat as she spoke. The branches around his torso loosened a little to better allow him to breathe. They moved temporarily out of her hand's way as it traced the line of his collarbone and caressed down the centerline of his chest. Her other hand reached behind her to unclasp a few things at the back of her neck. Then she shrugged out of her dress until it was a pool of pure white that slid like a waterfall from her breasts and down the slope of her knees. Her body proved to be as mottled as her face, but it was absolutely lovely in form. Lovely and terrifying.

His pity vanished when her bipolar kicked in, and she returned to unhinged and furious. "You can force my body." He said in defiance. "But my mind still belongs to Ashyr." And Selene, he supposed. But despite his defiance, his eyes trailed down her body, drinking in her nude form. Great. It would be easier to resist these women if they did not end up invariably being so damned beautiful, partly demonic or not. Dryads and Nymphs were sister races, that was true (through dryads averaged smaller breasts and narrower hips), and as Naliira's tree continued to writhe around him, his mind flashed back to Althaia doing a similar thing that one time that they had had sex while he was conscious. This situation seemed to be heading the same way, actually. That thought caused Caleldir manhood to begin to rise up. Which was a betrayal. Only Ashyr, Selene, and maybe, maybe Althaia for him. Not this woman, beautiful as she was.

"Then I will force your body until your mind inevitably follows." She responded in that same hissing voice. "I will not be denied." Her hand finally fell to his manhood. Those lithe fingers wrapped around his shaft with a gentleness that juxtaposed with rough strength of the oaken branches holding him in place. Those branches pulled his legs apart just enough to give her hand more room on his sex. It rubbed up and down, her fingers lowering on occasion to gently roll his package against soft fingertips. She leaned forward as she did this to press mouth to his neck and breasts against his chest. Leaves rustled in the wind like a lusty sigh. The feel of his body seemed to calm both tree and dryad. It didn't make the branches loosen any further on him, however.