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 144: Warned
Deep in a forest where sheer cliff faces punched into the sky during the ancient cataclysm that befell Duesterra, there was a little spot where life was more vibrant than anything around it. This particular cliff was set slightly apart from its kin and overlooked a sunny courtyard to the south. Upon first glance, the carved decorations looked like ancient ruins. Waterfalls tumbled down the cliff and drained into pools and rivers. Emerging from those waters were green plants, fungus, and algae that clung to every stone structure. Wildflowers grew enthusiastically where there weren't huge trees that shaded various portions of dry ground.
Built right into the cliff was a stone structure that looked like an old, forgotten palace built in a style reminiscent of drow architecture. It was framed by two of the larger waterfalls, its steps into the doorway pillowed by rainbow-adorned mists. On closer inspection, none of the carved stone was crumbled or imperfect, though ivy clung to it in many places. Each beautiful depiction of animals, fish, and nude women - not painted, but formed with precious stones inlaid into the walls - were perfectly enhanced by the foliage rather than covered by the climbing plants. Not a piece was missing or looted.
A nude woman threw herself off of the left waterfall, whooping and giggling as she dove gracefully into the pool below. It distracted a furtive figure slinking through the shadow of an old-looking willow tree. He looked over towards the front of the palace to see the second naiad do a flip off of the other waterfall. Their bubbling giggles came together and flowed through the air. The male looking at them for a moment let out a relieved, fond sigh. They would be occupied for a little while longer; they were doing diving contests again. He might be able to do his chores uninterrupted. For once.
Tsabdrin turned his gaze back to where he was going. Hidden in some dense brush was a gate, which he passed through with the pensive look of someone who had done this dozens of times. On the other side was a very different sight from the courtyard. A small bird that the naiads called "chickens" rooted and pecked through the large grassy pasture. Excited bleeting-bellowing came from around an ornate stone building and announced the approach of the hairy, cloven-hoofed animals eager to be milked. In a fenced-off area in the far corner, boars screamed for their breakfast. His raptors screeched in the distance, having heard the commotion.
"Shush, shush!" Tsabdrin whispered in a tight voice. "You'll remind them about me!"
The various animals actually listened to their beastmaster, but they still ran, paced, and wagged their tails eagerly. He ignored them while he walked to a little structure woven out of wood. He reached under a chicken (making impotent, indignant noises) and pulled out the three eggs on which she was sitting. The chickens were marvelous animals: good to eat and layers of delicious eggs year-round. They were the descendants of flocks kept by the people who lived there so long ago, now free to roam wild throughout the land. These ones were small, flighty, and not at all tame. Tsabdrin was only a couple of months into his breeding program to create a meatier, more docile bird. Thankfully, for now, he could use his various magics to keep them tame.
His eggs went into a magical bag specially made for keeping them fresh. He turned his attention to the hairy cloven-hood creatures. Mountain goats, apparently, from the more craggy terrain to the north. They reminded him of the giant antelope that bounded across the plains. His allosaurs used to hunt them. The goats could be brushed out for fiber to make clothing, milked, or eaten. They needed a substantial amount of breeding to be good at any of those, though. And to be tame enough for anyone who wasn't a ranger, druid, or nymph to interact with them. The two heavy-uddered females waddled their way to the breeding stand to let him milk them out.
With a pail full of milk (that he stored with the eggs), he let out the baby goats to join with their mothers. Humming an old song to himself, Tsabdrin pulled out a bowl of scraps from another one of his bags. The boars were the happy recipients of the kitchen waste. These were the standard forest boars that Tsabdrin encountered most places around the surface of Niutitana. These, too, would be the subjects of extensive breeding programs.
Tsabdrin settled cross-legged in the grass and summoned one of the hairy mother goats to him. The drow produced a brush and began running its bristles through the incredibly soft coat. As he collected more and more fiber, the goat dozed off happily. His mind wandered to contemplate his life, as it usually did during this peaceful morning ritual.
He had a lot of work and a lot of plans for the little homestead he had founded with his 'apprentices' after their mission to scout Clachleom had been completed due to the end of the civil war and the alliance between Clachleom and Norahist. These animals were just the beginning. The only obstacle was the constant distraction of being the nymph's personal stud. Consort was a better word for it, he supposed. He was 'owned' by the naiad sisters who happily loaned him out as a party favor for all the guests they had. And there were many. Any nymph passing through towards the Nymph Palace stopped here and enjoyed the homestead's 'hospitality.'
It was what most well-bred drow males could expect from life, so he supposed he couldn't complain that much. House Naiad (or whatever they wanted to call themselves) was massively kinder and gentler than any house he could have hoped to be tied to. It was just... they were far hornier than the drow he would have been expected to serve. And they had the tendency to invite everyone to join the house.
That was how they gained the two Oreads. They turned his pretty cave into a grand palace. That made them a fine addition, he had to admit, though they were very strange. Only spoke in rhyming couplets that only the naiads understood, or occasional laconic phrases. Never showed emotion. The first few times they expressionlessly yanked down his trousers and silently had sex with him was surreal. The naiads assured him that the mountain nymphs were quite fond of him despite their apparent indifference.
Sometimes he complained that he was a mere breeding stud to them... and that may have been true. All four nymphs had been content to immerse themselves in nature and never design anything more. The mansion and stableyard only existed because he gave his nymphs direction, but all that was for his benefit. He longed for someone less... alien. Someone like...
He shook the thought from his head with a sigh. He felt like he had to plan his days around them. Avoid them much of the time so he could accomplish things. Think of ways to harness their energy where there wasn't something he could do on his own. That was how one dealt with the forces of nature. A waterfall was poor companionship; he wanted a partner.
Despite that, he wasn't unhappy. This space he'd carved out of the wilderness was the most wonderful place he'd ever lived. He had purpose, he wasn't being abused, and he got to live his life mostly how he wanted. Loneliness could be overcome. Eventually. Or, perhaps, this was a personality trait of his now? The lonely drow ranger, making the wilderness his home and only companion while the world happened somewhere else.
Tsabdrin scoffed at himself, making the goat next to him twitch and grunt in annoyance.
Suddenly, two hands covered his eyes, and a soft body pressed up against his back.
"Guess who!" a familiar voice giggled, followed by another giggling.
"You are playing tricks again, aren't you, Nekaia?" Tsabdrin said in a mildly amused tone. He would have been more annoyed by their interruption, but he was almost done with morning chores.
