The Sable Masquerade

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.

*****

Marethil, aspiring drow matriarch and part-time queenmaker of the underground realms, looked curiously at the stranger in the appealingly minimalist mask. "So what should I call you?"

"Toranel."

That was so obviously a surface-dweller name that Marethil nearly doubled over at the humor in the pseudonym. "Toranel! I like your style, friend. Call me Sapphire. Is this your first time?"

"It is."

"Oh, you've a lot to experience here tonight. Welcome to the Masquerade!"

In years past, some long-dead matriarch of the drow had gotten tired of the constant power struggles and had started the tradition of meeting peacefully - relatively peacefully, they were drow after all and some amount of backstabbing was cultural - for a night of anonymous debauchery and excess. Since then the celebration had grown until its revels became known as a bacchanal of legendary proportions, the Sable Masquerade.

"You'll want to be careful, first-timer," Marethil noted conversationally to her new friend. "I remember when I was like you are now. It's pretty relaxing, actually, to just hang back and watch. The masks help too, although," she giggled, "just because we're wearing 'em doesn't mean we can't get in trouble. I remember last year, there was this one mistress, we caught her with - ah, you had to be there, it was hilarious."

The stranger calling herself Toranel nodded. "I'm sure."

"Your mask is really unique. I like it." Marethil had decorated her own with the gems that she loved best, sapphires sparkling in a deep blue sheen with the dim light of the underground city. It wasn't the most decadent example of drow fashion by a long shot, so her new friend's simple mask fascinated her. While her own sapphire-spangled mask left her mouth and jawline bare (for they were beautiful, Marethil thought, and she made that small concession to vanity), the angular, minimalist mask that the stranger wore was more of a full-face sort of affair. Straightforward in design, and it suited the atmosphere of the Masquerade very well.

"Thank you." The stranger tugged on the leash in her hand, and Marethil noticed for the first time the slave that was accompanying her.

"Oh." Marethil's breath caught in her throat. "What's her name?"

At the end of the leash was the most beautiful elf girl she'd ever seen. The drow were familiar with slaves from the surface, of course. What they didn't acquire through raiding, they took through trading, but as far as she knew there were still far more drow in the underground than any other civilized race, excepting maybe the vicious dwarves, and so to Marethil the elf was charmingly exotic.

"Her name is Aldrisa."

"Mm." Marethil wasn't paying much attention. She was more interested in letting her eyes run up and down the elf girl's body. Like most slaves at the Masquerade, Aldrisa was completely naked save her collar and the leash that ran to the hand of her mistress. What set her apart from the other slaves, at least the ones that Marethil had seen thus far, was her shock of bright red hair.

It occurred to Marethil that she probably had a thing for redheads.

"So," she said coyly, "my dear friend 'Toranel,' would you be willing to share?"

The red-haired slave blushed adorably at those words, though she looked to be already flustered by the intoxicating incense that suffused the Masquerade. Her mistress nodded. "Of course. You're more than welcome to play with Aldrisa here."

"Come with me. I have a private room just over this way." On a whim, Marethil reached out to possessively stroke the elf girl's ears before she started towards the room that she'd reserved at the start of the festivities.

For a second, the redheaded elf seemed to hesitate, but her mistress tugged at the leash and she trotted obediently along.

---

Toranel, I hope you know what you're doing.

It had seemed like the chance of a lifetime for an outlaw like herself. Get in, loot some jewelry from any drow that partied too hard to see straight, and get out. No risk, no fun, as they say. Of course, they needed appropriate disguises, and Aldrisa had known exactly what she was getting into when she drew up the plans. That's why she brought Toranel, her trusted second-in-command. Someone who could be relied upon to be sensible while the boss indulged some submissive fantasies.

Such as, for example, being made to kneel with her face between the thighs of a drow mistress who was thoroughly enjoying the dutiful labors of her tongue.

"Oooh," the drow sighed. "Your slave really knows her place."

Toranel - who, brazenly, had given her

own name

as a pseudonym for the night - was no doubt smirking underneath her disguise. "Thank you," she said to the drow in the sapphire mask. "I've made sure to train her well." She punctuated that remark with a slap to Aldrisa's ass, almost certainly just to hear her slightly muffled yelp.

"Mmm." The drow gently pulled her head away. "That's enough for now, pet."

Cool fingers caressed her face, brushing at her cheek, as the drow mistress gazed down at her with something like kindness. "You know," the drow breathed, "you're an absolutely marvelous creature."

Toranel had wandered off and thus did not see Aldrisa squirm under the compliment. Instead, she was inspecting some of the toys on display. "Hey, Sapphire," she called out to the drow, pointing to a set of heavy metal implements, "what're these?"

"Hm?" The drow looked up. "Oh, those are for special occasions and particularly recalcitrant males. I had them made custom. You've got good taste," she said, grinning. "Now that I think about it," she continued, looking down at Aldrisa, "there's a few things I'd like to see this one wearing." She patted the elf girl's head one last time before getting up. "Stay here for a bit, girl. I need to fetch some things."

Aldrisa had arrived at the Masquerade wearing a humiliatingly large phallic gag, something she'd chosen specifically because it would help her blend in with the depraved festivities and

absolutely no other reason

. The drow calling herself Sapphire had removed it in order to better enjoy her sapphic attentions, leaving only the slave collar. Now, after bustling around her shelves and crates of toys, she selected a dark red ball gag and fastened it in place, cooing delightedly. Accompanying it were nipple clamps of delicately wrought gold, featuring small gemstones - rubies? - dangling from tiny chains. Muttering something about matching hair colors, the drow finally decided on a set of pigments from a makeup kit which she then began applying to Aldrisa's face.

"And a touch here...there we go." Triumphantly, Sapphire grabbed a mirror and spun it around. "Look what an improvement I have wrought, my girl."

Aldrisa couldn't stop staring at herself. She looked like a whore. A very refined whore, to be fair. The drow's skilled hand had very expertly, very subtly enhanced her features. Her eyelashes were a bit darker than she remembered, more lustrous. The rest of her face was lightly touched. Due to her line of work, Aldrisa herself never really bothered with cosmetics, so it was hard for her to identify the specific flourishes that the drow had made beyond the most basic aspects of the foundation. It didn't help that the scents of the Masquerade, all heady incense and naked eroticism, were driving her to distraction.

What she definitely noticed was the lipstick, a brilliant shade of red that managed to complement both the ball gag and her own red hair. It was beautiful, and it made her look like a high-class courtesan, the sort who might be invited to society events by a wealthy noble but who would nonetheless end the night getting fucked silly in her customer's bed.

"So beautiful," the drow murmured. She turned to Toranel. "I'll buy her. Name a price."

Suddenly alert, Aldrisa flashed a warning look at her second-in-command, who, to her credit, responded immediately. "She's not for sale," Toranel calmly replied.

"I have gold." The drow hefted a clinking purse. "Or perhaps you would like something else?"

Toranel strolled over to where Aldrisa still knelt in front of the mirror, seemingly lost in thought. "Hmmm." A hand absently reached out to stroke her hair while her second-in-command considered the offer.

Toranel, you fool. Don't do anything stupid.

"Here's an alternative proposition." Toranel's hand had drifted so that she could fondle Aldrisa's pointed elfin ear. "To hell with the price. You make her cum ten times in as many minutes, and she's yours for free."

What?!

"Oh, a challenge!" The drow's eyes practically sparkled with glee. "The conditions?"

"It has to be you who makes her climax, of course. No bringing in a team of orcs to help. Although," her voice took on a mischievous bent, "there's nothing stopping you from doing that ten minutes from now. If you succeed."

"My friend, you've got yourself a deal. Let's get her prepared for the contest..."

Several positions were considered and rejected. Aldrisa finally found herself restrained on her back atop what appeared to be a specially designed bench with cuffs near the floor for her hands and feet. Arms above her head, legs spread, back arched, and every inch of her body exposed, the overall effect was one of complete helplessness. Her collar, too, was secured so that she could barely raise her head to see the drow rummaging through a nondescript chest.

"Found it." A crystal vial was now in the drow's hand, sloshing with some thin purple liquid. "I call it the Fool's Pleasure, bought it off some alchemist. This," the drow twirled the delicate vessel between her fingers, "isn't an aphrodisiac in the usual sense, it doesn't actually create lust, though one of the side effects of long-term use is increased sensitivity. Helpfully for our contest, the elixir simply decreases the amount of time needed to achieve climax." She sauntered back to where Aldrisa lay bound. "I typically use it to punish my male slaves when I'm feeling bored...although I'm sure it'll do nicely for this one." Pausing, she turned to Toranel. "This would be an acceptable aid for me, I hope? Not disqualifying?"

Toranel shrugged. "Sure, can't see why not." She'd found an hourglass, one of the smaller standardized ones that was in fashion, and was loading it with sand. "Ten minutes isn't that long at all. Go wild."

Dammit, Toranel.

"As you say," the drow chuckled. "Ready?"

Toranel nodded, flipping the timepiece so that the sand flowed down. "Time starts now. Begin."

With one smooth motion, the drow mistress upended the vial, pouring its contents in a steady stream over Aldrisa's nethers. As she poured, her other hand busied itself with working the maddening liquid into the elf girl as she rubbed and caressed with businesslike alacrity.

Having spent hours breathing the intoxicating air, being groped and fondled by dozens of drow, and then finally railroaded into this ridiculous contest, it was about all Aldrisa could do to even stay conscious. The drow's fingers against her already dripping cunt were enough to send her over the edge, and she moaned helplessly as the first shuddering climax was drawn out of her.

"Gnnhh!"

"That's right, darling," the drow cooed, "this stuff works fast. Or do you just love the thought of living with me so much?"

"I dunno," Toranel teased, "she may be a little slut, but I still want to see if you can really get her going. She's taken worse than this, no sweat."

"Really?" Strapped to the table, Aldrisa was screaming into her gag as the drow's fingers sent her crashing into another sudden orgasm. "She's already two down. I'm making good time."

"Mm," the disguised elf shrugged. "You're doing good, Sapphire, but if you go too fast you'll wear her out or she'll get used to it."

"Right, right, of course." The drow paused briefly to gesture at Aldrisa. "It's not so much a thrusting motion, though, so it should keep her up for awhile. See, what you do, it's all in the wrist," she demonstrated for Toranel, "like that. You've got to vary it up a little when they tire, then wait until - there!" The curve of her fingers quirked inside the writhing elf, fingertips questing after the spots of her greatest vulnerability. "Meanwhile, with your other hand, you shouldn't neglect the opportunity," the drow explained, almost like a schoolteacher, "to add another level to your slave's torment." Her free hand came around to rest almost casually across the bound elf's vulva, her thumb tracing circles on her clit.

Aldrisa wanted to just break down and cry. The sensation that she felt most keenly - besides the tantalizing warmth that was now something akin to an inferno - was the distinct impression that she was being pushed to higher and higher peaks, only to be sent hurtling down. She'd experimented before with delayed gratification, knew how it felt to be completely subjugated while her partner exercised complete control over her pleasure. The tightness in her lower torso, the rapid beating of her heart, the eventual release and the inevitable explosive climax...

Now she realized what the elixir, the Fool's Pleasure, was doing to her body. At the end of her frighteningly fast orgasms (like the one that she was having just now, babbling unintelligibly through her ball gag to the drow's amusement), it actually

decreased

her pussy's sensitivity, allowing her to come down as quickly as possible. Then, when her captor stroked her again (the insidious elixir and her natural wetness squishing lewdly), her mind was unclouded by the usual post-orgasm haze, making the sexual torment that much worse.

Aldrisa thought to herself - as much as she could think through the approach of yet another mind-melting climax - that she'd have preferred being kept in a state of constant pleasure rather than being allowed to come down again and again. It made each ascent more earth-shaking than the last, and it was impossible to get used to that drow's fingers.

"Have you been keeping count?" The drow's voice brought her out of her reverie. Toranel made a show of counting on her fingers.

"Six, right?"

"Seven, now." She grinned as Aldrisa was wracked by another devastating orgasm. The drow was clearly getting off to the helpless noises she made. It seemed the drow was confident in her victory, too. The little hourglass was a bit more than halfway empty at this point. "Just three more to go."

Desperate, Aldrisa gazed up at the masked face of her second-in-command.

Please, Toranel. Do something.

The disguised elf seemed to think for a second, then casually reached out to brush against Aldrisa's nipples, her fingertips tracing along the pebble-hard nubs.

What are you doing?

But that wasn't Toranel's real goal. Her fingertips drifted down the elf girl's ribs, then began meandering up along her sides. Aldrisa's breath caught in her throat.

Oh no. No, no, no -

She managed to bite back the giggles that rose to her throat as Toranel spidered her fingers on her torso. But when those fingers dipped into the hollows of her underarms, she could hold it back no longer as she shrieked, her cry dissolving into wild laughter as Toranel began to tickle her in earnest.

"Ahahahaha!"

"Hey, no fair," the drow objected. "Are you allowed to do that?"

"Why not?" Toranel shrugged her shoulders but kept tickling the bound elf. "Never said I couldn't. Does it matter that much?" Her voice turned mischievous as she addressed the drow mistress. "C'mon, Sapphire, I know a bit of distraction won't stop her from cumming her cute little brains out. You've still got this."

If nothing else, the drow was determined, and without preamble she almost literally dove into Aldrisa's muff, tongue lapping away. Despite Toranel's fingers, the extra stimulus brought yet another rush of heat to her lap as Aldrisa's body gave in to the touch.

"That's eight," Toranel murmured. Her fingers did not stop their devious task.

"Nahahahahaha!" Aldrisa's screams of mirth robbed her of any intelligibility as she howled through the ball gag. "Stahahahaha!"

A small part of her mind, the part that wasn't overloaded with ticklish torture, thought that maybe this was why Toranel had nudged the drow into choosing this position. Arched back, her entire upper body was completely exposed as Toranel's fingers ravaged her.

It was a clever move, albeit a devilish one, because Aldrisa knew well that Toranel was distracting her from the drow's ministrations down below. So long as she was being tickled mercilessly, there was a good chance that she could hold back on cumming. Maybe.

Her restraints clattered as she thrashed about, but whatever craftsman the drow had patronized had done their job well. Not that she had the slightest expectation of escape, but she scrambled for it nonetheless. Toranel's fingers were driving her crazy.

"Yahahahahaha!"

Toranel, please!

She might be able to keep from orgasm, but the new torture was almost worse. Aldrisa was unbelievably ticklish.

"Oops." It took her a moment to realize that the tickling had stopped, as Toranel had raised her fingers from her friend's body. Aldrisa's eyes went wide with horror.

No! You bitch!

With Toranel's fingers no longer distracting her, the building orgasm that had been held at bay swiftly rose to overwhelm her mind. Aldrisa screamed with mingled betrayal and lust as the drow's resolute tongue-fucking melted her resistance, as her body shook with ecstasy one more time.

"That's nine," Toranel whispered into her ear. She didn't even wait until the aftershocks had died down before she started tickling again.

Once more, Aldrisa's body convulsed, limbs flailing as much as they were able, which was very little. The firmly secured cuffs were no closer to giving way and by this point, exhaustion was beginning to slow her frenzied movement.

"You better not cum, Aldrisa," her subordinate murmured again. "Otherwise, you'll be Sapphire's pet."

Toranel!

Her mad laughter leapt to dizzying heights as the fingers scribbled under her arms. She had to hold out. Just a bit more.

Please! I'm...I'm going to lose my mind!

She'd been taken well past the point of hysterics. Several times, she shook with silent laughter as the nonstop torture nearly caused all breath to leave her body. She was nothing more than a ticklish little toy, a helpless little slut who couldn't do a thing to stop it -

And then she felt, feather-light, a kiss on her cheek, and opened her eyes to see Toranel wink before swiftly replacing the mask that she wore.

"Time's up," she said. "Well done, girl."

Relief washed over her, but the end of their contest didn't stop the drow from finishing her off one last time. Her tongue pressed against the side of the elf's clit while her fingers kept working inside of her, deliberately drawing out the length of her climax. Aldrisa's mind went white; she was faintly aware that someone was screaming, and that it was in her voice.

"What a contest!" Fully satisfied, the drow seemed unconcerned with having been beaten as she got to her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Aldrisa, taking deep shuddering breaths as she returned to earth, struggled to focus her eyes on her tormentor.

"That was skillfully played," the drow smirked, "and I thank you, friend, for an entertaining little episode." She nodded to Toranel before leaning close to Aldrisa one more time.

The elf girl's face was streaked with sweat and tears, causing her carefully applied makeup to run disgracefully. In every way, she looked to be a poor whore. But the drow just smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead with an expression of unreserved infatuation.