Chapter Text

STEP BROTHER GALE'S STUCK IN A PORTAL!!

By

Lola Pendragon

EXT. GALE’S BALCONY, WATERDEEP - MIDNIGHT

We begin by quickly panning up from the Sea of Swords, following the length of GALE’S TOWER, until at last we see GALE, a slim human of average height, leaning on his balcony. Behind him, with arms crossed, stands TAV, a burly male half-orc, noticeably annoyed.

TAV

(Sighing)

You know why I’m ‘ere, don’t you?

GALE

(Rolling his eyes)

Spare me the lecture, Tav. I already know what you’re going to say.

TAV

Morena is worried—

GALE

—And there it is!

TAV

Look, Wizard. It’s not like I wanna be ‘ere either, forcing your pathetic arse to leave your tower after a whole year of moping–

GALE

(interrupting)

Then why are you here?

GALE turns abruptly to face TAV, irritation clear across his features.

Because I sure as Avernus know that it isn’t out of any care for me!

TAV

You’re right. It’s not.

GALE

Then why? By Elminster’s beard Tav, let us not pretend that you and I have ever held any rapport for each other. Ever since the days of our boyhood, before Blackstaff Academy. I was the nerdy child creating illusions in the library – you were the popular jock that pushed kids like me into lockers. By all means, we don’t have to find any such common interests now, just because we’re…

GALE looks down at his feet, suddenly uncomfortable. TAV also seems uncomfortable, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat, his gaze avoidant.

TAV

(After a pause)

Look. I’m not trying to befriend you for your sake, or mine, or even Morena’s. It’s for me mum. I care about ‘er, Dekarios, and if being married to your mum is what makes ‘er ‘appy, then that’s what makes me ‘appy. And if that means ‘avin to come ‘ere and kick your sorry arse into gear… then that’s what I’m gonna do.

GALE turns away, leaning on the balcony again, his face deep in thought, riddled with guilt.

GALE

You know, it’s quite embarrassing, really… for you to be the one waxing any sort of wisdom. But, then again, I have certainly proved myself to be a most unwise wizard in recent years…

GALE looks up at the sky, as if wishing on a star, his face hopeful.

Perhaps… Perhaps it is finally time for me to return to society. Thank you, Step-Brother. Thank you for–

Suddenly, a portal rips open in the sky, and we see a giant squid-shaped spaceship flying through it – THE NAUTILOID. GALE and TAV look up at it in shock as it begins to soar closer, and closer. Then, without warning, a beam shines down onto the balcony, covering them both in light.

GALE

(Yelling)

BY MYSTRA'S GRACE! WHAT IS HAPPENING?!

Dramatic music begins to play as the light beam ascends them upwards towards the ship, GALE first, followed by TAV. As they rise, their clothes disintegrate, leaving them in the nude. GALE has a hairy chest and his genitals are of standard size with little pubic hair. TAV meanwhile, is even hairier, and his penis is gargantuan and thick with curls. Both men are proudly erect. GALE begins to struggle, trying to fight against the light. However, as he does, his dick becomes even more erect.

TAV

(Yelling)

DON’T STRUGGLE, DEKARIOS! IT WILL ONLY MAKE THINGS HARDER!

GALE

(Moaning)

NNNG- BUT I DON’T THINK I CAN GET MUCH HARDER!

The light cuts out just as the men disappear. We see a portal reopen in the sky, and THE NAUTILOID flies through, leaving Gale’s Tower dark and lonesome.

CUT TO:

INT. THE NAUTILOID, ABOVE AVERNUS - NIGHT

The interior of THE NAUTILOID is dark, red, and alien. We zoom in on an unconscious TAV and GALE in a spooning position, both contained within the same mind flayer pod. Flames rise up from cracks in the floor just as the pod cracks open. TAV opens his eyes, a fierce blush covering his features as he realises that his large, erect member is pressed up against GALE’s hairy bottom.

 

TAV

St-step bro…?

We zoom in even further, focusing on TAV’s penis and GALE’s buttcheek. TAV’s penis becomes slick and shiny as precum spills from its tip, cascading down his considerable length…

Nnnnng!.... Fuck, D-dekarios… Wake up…

…and over GALE’s buttocks. As GALE’s skin moistens, his butt wriggles against TAV’s genitals, the tip of which is getting dangerously close to GALE’s butthole. GALE moans at the sensation, his eyes still closed, though he appears to be slightly rousing from sleep.

GALE

Mmmm… Tav…

TAV flushes as GALE breathes his name, clapping a hand over his mouth as he jumps out of the pod, leaving GALE inside alone. He looks at his surroundings and then down at his monstrous member, his hands quickly reaching down to timidly cover it — though it is a futile attempt, for his penis is much too large to be hidden.

TAV

(urgently)

Dekarios! Wake up!

GALE turns from his side to his back, his hard cock revealed to also be dripping with precum as he faces us fully. He begins writhing around in the pod, his hand reaching down to cup and squeeze his balls. We zoom in on it and hear ambient moans as he touches himself. We pan up to his face, where we see his eyes opening, then zoom out to see both GALE and TAV facing each other with their hands on their dicks.

GALE

T… Tav?

GALE’s hand stills, his neck and face turning red as his eyes glance down at TAV’s hand covering his cock. Then, he looks down at his own penis and jumps from the pod, turning his back to TAV in embarrassment.

GAH! What are you doing?! You can’t simply just walk in on a man right when he’s in the middle of! –

GALE pauses, noticing his surroundings. His face drains of colour.

Oh… By the Gods. We’re on a Mind Flayer ship! We need to get off immediately!

TAV

(pleasantly surprised)

Really? Get off? Well, Dekarios, I hadn’t pegged you to be so forward as that, but – I mean, if you want me to peg you…

GALE turns abruptly to face TAV, his face bright red.

GALE

(Stuttering)

Wh-what? N-no, you fool! I meant we have to get off the ship!

TAV

(covering his disappointment)

O-oh. Right. Yeah.

GALE

Why on Abeir-Toril did you think I wanted you to peg me?

TAV

Well, because…

TAV points to GALE’s johnson, and we zoom in momentarily to witness that it is, indeed, still quite erect. GALE quickly covers it with his hands in embarassment.

GALE

(Babbling)

Oh, right, yes… It must be a side-effect of the Mind Flayer’s abduction method. Quite intelligent, really, to render us at our most stupid by suddenly increasing our testosterone level. However, they failed to account for one thing, and that is that I am a wizard of considerable talent and skill!

TAV

What’s that gotta do with anythin’?

GALE

Because, dear Step Brother, my horniness only adds to my connection to the Weave! In fact, some might say that it is the very source of my power -- should you perchance upon any of my former classmates at the academy. How else would it have been possible for me to seduce the Goddess of Magic herself?

GALE begins channelling his magic. As he does so, the orb scar on his chest begins glowing blue, as well as his penis.

(Breathlessly)

Y-yes… I can feel it… I can feel a direct line to the Weave below us! It may be possible to teleport us from this ship to the ground below, but gods, it’s difficult! If only I could just get… Just a little bit harder!

The NAUTILOID shakes and GALE falls. TAV reacts quickly, lunging forward and catching GALE just before he’s about to hit the ground. Their faces are dangerously close, barely inches away from each other. Both men blush as they stare into each other’s eyes.

TAV

D-dekarios… 'ave you always been so…

TAV pauses and looks down, his pupils dilated. We follow his gaze, panning down until, at last, we see the men’s penises – their tips touching and GALE’s cock glowing a softer, warmer light. We pan back up to their faces, flushed with pleasure.

We... We can't! We're step brothers now! But... Ahh... But it feels so good!

We zoom in again on the men's cocks, lightly bouncing against each other as they flex from their horniness.

GALE

I know... But it's a life of death situation, here. It's the only way, brother...

GALE closes his eyes.

Now! Quickly, you fool! K-kiss me…

TAV gulps and closes his eyes as he leans in closer to GALE. Their lips are about to touch when THE NAUTILOID shakes again, even more violently now, and dramatic music plays as we pan out just in time to see the men suddenly thrust into the air as the ship begins plummeting. TAV’s back hits the ceiling with a grunt, followed by GALE, who lands forward-facing on top of him, pinning him. We momentarily zoom in to discover that – due to his positioning – the entirety of their hard penises are touching.

TAV

BAHGTRU, GRUUMSH, LUTHIC! WHAT IS HAPPENING?! ~ NNNNGGG…

TAV looks down, his eyes widening as he notices his penis brushing alongside GALE’s. He slowly moves his hips, grinding against GALE, who is also moaning.

Oh… Oh GODS… GALE…

He slaps GALE’s arse as his herculean hardness starts grinding against him even faster, precum spilling from them both. The sound of their balls slapping against each other’s echoes loudly through the ship.

GALE

(moaning)

YES! OOOOH YES!! That’s it, step brother! Just a, just a little more, and I’ll be able to… AAAH!!!....

GALE’s penis glows a bright electric blue once again, so bright that it eventually fills the whole screen until we can see nothing but the light. The music crescendos as we hear both men panting heavily, almost close to climax, right before we hear the sound of an explosion. Then, the light begins to dim, until we see…

CUT TO:

EXT. CORRUPTED PORTAL, OUTSIDE - MORNING

… TAV’s unconscious, still nude form laying beside a CORRUPTED PORTAL. He wakes up with a groan and props himself up onto his elbows, looking at the portal.

 

TAV

D-Dekarios? Where are you? What ‘appened?

TAV stands up and inspects the portal closer, just as a hand unexpectedly reaches out from it, causing him to jump back.

GALE

(voiceover)

Tav? Is that you?

TAV

(relieved)

Dekarios! You’re alright! I mean, uh, not that I care… But uh… anyway… what ‘appened?

GALE

My magic worked! I was able to teleport us to safety, but it would seem I, uh, managed to get myself a little bit stuck. I don’t suppose you could help me, step brother?

TAV pauses for a moment before nodding, strongly grasping GALE’s hand. He attempts to pull him from the portal, grunting heavily, but is unable to budge him.

TAV

ARRG! Stupid bloody portal! Bro, you’re too stuck!

GALE

Oh bother. If that’s the case, I’ll have to use my magic again, which means I have to be… Say, step-brother… I don’t suppose…

GALE’s hand disappears from view and we see TAV looking confused. We zoom in on the portal anticipatorily and raunchy music begins to play, just as GALE’s naked posterior seductively emerges from where his hand had been.

… You and I could finish what we started?

TAV’s face flushes and his mouth curls into a wry smile as we pan down to see that his pulsating phallus is enormously erect, bouncing as he flexes his thigh muscles. The sexy-porn music grows louder as he roughly grabs GALE’s hips and slowly inserts his kingkong cock into his gaping anus. The men moan and whimper as we move closer to the action, with TAV’s donkey dick thrusting increasingly faster, the squelching of his efforts harmonic with the ‘bow-ka-bow’ backdrop.

(panting)

Oh Step-Bro!! I’m s-so close!

TAV

(panting)

Don’t you d-dare Dekarios! Not until I’ve… nnnng… finished!

GALE

(whimpering)

Y-you always were s-such a bully!

TAV growls, slapping GALE’s hip, causing him to cry out. Then, throwing his head back in pleasure, TAV makes one final thrust before pulling his mammoth manhood out of GALE’s hole and cumming over his cheeks.

TAV

(cumming)

OH BR-BROTHER…

Having orgasmed, TAV’s knees buckle and he falls into a kneel, eagerly sticking his tongue into GALE’s rectum, swirling it around as his tusks stab at GALE’s skin. We close up on GALE’s arse as it begins to shake, and we hear GALE’s pleasure.

GALE

(cumming)

THAT’S – THAT’S IT – I – AAAH!

As we hear GALE cum, he is suddenly thrown from the portal, knocking TAV back and landing on his face, his tongue still inside his hole. We zoom in on his supple schlong jizzing bountiful cum directly at us. He pants as he finishes and the music begins to die down, turning romantic as GALE rolls off TAV so that the two are lying beside each other.

Ah… You did it! By the gods, I haven’t orgasmed like that since… Well... Ever!

TAV

(smirking)

Heh. Well, I wasn’t popular at school for nuthin’.

GALE

I - I see…

The two look at each other, unsure of what to do next. They both laugh.

To think… All this past year that I spent in seclusion, even missing our mothers’ wedding… I…

GALE blushes, his face moving shyly closer to TAV’s, eyes flickering to his mouth. TAV smiles at him and closes the gap between them, planting a soft kiss on GALE’s lips.

TAV

Ya know, Dekarios… Maybe it ain’t so bad ‘avin you as a brother after all.

GALE

Quite. Maybe let’s not tell our mothers though… just yet.

The romantic music crescendos as TAV pulls GALE tighter into a romantic kiss. We pan out and upwards as it swells, until we see a distant NAUTILOID gliding through the blue skies. Zooming in closer…

INT. NAUTILOID

 

… We see a nude mind flayer piloting the ship, with several naked people of all different races partying behind him. He looks at us and winks, just before we pan away…

EXT. OUTSIDE

 

… And see a portal in the shape of a heart opening in the sky. The NAUTILOID flies through it, disappearing in a cloud of electric blue smoke, also heart shaped. The second verse of the song 'Hey Brother' by Avicii plays, and we fade to black.

FIN.

Chapter Text

This is utterly mortifying and downright embarrassing… and you just can’t help but keep laughing. 

Since the end of the battle of Baldur’s Gate, most of your party has gone their separate ways. Halsin went back to the ex-shadowlands, Gale went back to Waterdeep to start his new and exciting career change from ex bond to professor and lastly, Wyll and Karlach will make the rare appearance when they can from Avernus. 

So, it left your merry band with Astarion, Shadowheart, and Lae’zel. And as everyone had agreed from the last dungeon expedition, the party needs a wizard, and it so happens that you know one close by. 

Rolan and adventuring with your gang was taking some getting used too. Lae’zel and Rolan were already adjusted to each other from her relationship with Cal. Astarion and Shadowheart, on the other hand, were not making it easy on him. Maybe that’s why he’s been acting so nervous and putting himself between you and dangerous traps so often. Maybe he’s trying to prove himself to them? Or maybe he’s trying to show himself a worthy hero…

Eh, who knows. 

But now it seems all those heroic deeds have led him here, the mighty Archwizard of Ramazths Tower Rolan stuck face down ass up in a chest. You try to hold in your laughter at the irritated thumping of his tail, but it’s a losing battle. 

Walking over to him, you kick the heel of his boot, alerting him of your presence. When he feels the kick, he lets out a startled yelp. 

“Looks like someone has been greedy…”

His audible groan is hilarious as you stare at his ass, “Just get me out of this damned chest!”

He irritatedly yells as you keep giggling and watching his tail flick and coil erratically. Walking around him, you inspect his oh-so-dire situation. Rolan’s front half is buried in the golden ornate chest, but you can hear him quite well. Odd.

“Is it a mimic?”

“Thankfully, no, I would hate for a creature like that to drool and bite on me.” 

“....what kind of creature would you let do that?” you say quickly.

“What?” 

“What…” you try to deflect your weird perviness. 

“Just get me out!” he finally bites out and kicks his feet in something like a tantrum. 

You roll your eyes and kick the heel of his boots again, “Alright. Alright, keep your tighty whities on.”

Reaching down to grab his hips and pull, but then there’s a sudden chill that passes through you, making you shiver. You don’t think about it long before your orbs are going back to Rolan’s shapely gluteus maximus. And as you linger on the mound, the chill passes through you again. You’re starting to think you should have brought your cloak. 

Then a voice…

“Fuck him…” -Um, excuse me?

You withdraw your hands to your chest and look around. Was that real? Or in your mind? 

“This is totally real!” - Well, that answers that… 

Taking a step back, you look around the room where you both reside. The art on the walls is faded and cracked, but as you look past the grime and overgrowth, you start to see the utter debauchery that decorates it. Sex, in every way and every form. Front, back, side to side, flips, and some poses you can’t even begin to describe. 

It’s all so….horny….

As soon as the thought of horny crosses your mind, three ghosts suddenly appear before you. They are beautifully translucent and almost misty in appearance; their clothes are of the style of the ancients, loosely draped and flowing on their bodies. Their appearance takes your breath away, and Rolan is none the wiser…

“Oh, wise spirits! Please excuse our intrusion! We shall-” 

“Fuck him.” 

Your sentence is cut short, and you look at the beautiful apparitions perplexed.

They continue, “Fuck the wizard… fuck him so our divine souls can return to the Outer planes… please young hero… fuck him…”

Lack of better words, you stare at them, baffled. Then, realization starts to hit you. This isn’t an abandoned dungeon, this is a forgotten temple, the temple of horniness!

You look at the spirits of the ghost of the long-forgotten gods; then you look back at Rolan’s ass… his lovely ass and long tail you just want to yank on. Then you pause. 

“Wait? I’m horny often; how are you and this temple ‘forgotten.’”

The gods looked at each other before answering, “There was a party foul at one of the temple orgies, so people just kept their horny at home, no longer praising us, thus our predicament.”

Another good speaks up after the first, “But you, you and your deep lust for the sexy wizard. It’s our chance to move from this realm… please, surrender to your desires. Yank that tail and fuck him… We also see his desires for you; now is the time.”

No longer do you want to fuck Rolan; you need to fuck him. For the gods! With a new resolve, you nod toward the gods of horny in acceptance. They bow their heads and dissipate for your privacy. It’s about to get explicit and intimate. 

With a confident flourish, you turn on your heels back to that ass. Now, what do you do first? Grab his hips and pull him out? Now, that’s just boring; we can do that in due time. Slap his ass and grope him?  Perhaps that is a tad too aggressive…. But there is one idea….

With a confident hand, you reach down, ignoring Rolan’s insistent whining, and take a firm, commanding hold onto his long, simi-thick tail and give the textured appendage a rough yank. As soon as you grabbed his tail, you heard Rolan’s breath catch, but then when you pulled? Oh, you have never heard a man moan so beautifully in your life; even though you two are in the temple of horniness, the sound he let out was sinful. 

“Rolan… was that a moan? Do you have no shame?” 

You can only hear his shivering breath before he gasps his next words… “I-if…y-y-you do that again… I will surely bust all over.” 

You lick your lips twice at the sight of his trembling tail, “Well, we can’t have that just yet… now, can we?” 

You hear a seductive growl, and you know your sexy wizard is right where you want him. You grasp his thrumming tail with both hands and hear a muffled moan crying out to the gods. If only he knew…

Stroking both your hands up his tail, you reach his back, and you’re slowly, painfully slowly, splaying your hands on his lower back and dragging your palms and nails to his sexy, narrow hips. Suddenly, you grab his hips in a bruising grip, causing a sharp whine to rip from Rolan’s throat, and you pull hard. With your mighty strength! (and possible helpful aid by horny gods), you pull Rolan from the chest! You two fumble and twist with a flourish, with your body rubbing and twisting all over each other till finally, in what felt like slow motion, you two fall to the ground, that is conveniently covered in lush leaves and soft flowers. (thank you horny gods). You are pinned underneath Rolan’s hard body, as he stares deep into your eyes. You both are still panting from the pull and inevitable fall. 

Rolan smiles, flashing his sharp teeth down at you, “How the tables do turn, eh?”

Not going to stand for his cockiness, you reach your hand to where Rolan’s tail is coiling around your thigh and pull again, “Don’t get cocky.” 

Rolan throws his head back in utter bliss, and you take the chance to lean up and lick the column of his throat, tasting his salty, sweet sweat on your taste buds. It only spurs him on more, losing his chestnut hair from its elaborate design, he shakes his hair loose till the soft, wavy locks frame his striking face. Your jaw drops at his beauty and you lick and suck on his neck more. 

Rolan hums and purs in your lips praise before his parting from you to  stare in your lust blown eyes.

“So naughty,” he enunciates, and you feel your toes curl.

Finally, in desperate hunger, your two crash your mouths together. It’s a fever of tongues and teeth and you fight for dominance. Somewhere in your devouring of one another, your clothes were stripped away conveniently from each other as your need for each other’s skin to finally touch. If only you knew pulling on Rolan’s tail would flip a switch in Rolan so quickly, you would have done it months ago.  But you shouldn’t think of regrets now; you need to be in the now. And now is telling you to spread your legs and roll your hips into him till he can finally calm your heat. Your pussy sloppy wet and desperately needy.

Rolan looks down at you with lidded glowing orbs, one hand pressed right next to your head while the other starts to work on his pebbling member. His hand starts off in slow tugs that get faster and faster the more you kiss along his body.

The moment is intense, as your core gets even slicker in anticipation. Then, Rolan pushes it further: “You must understand that I completely adore you.” 

It’s all so intense; it’s all laid bare, your desire for one another. You pause your reverent kissing and look deeply into his luminescent eyes.  

“Ditto” 

Rolan groans at your confession and drives his leaking tip through your slippery folds. It’s so hot it almost burns. Actually, it’s definitely burning a bit, but the heat is a welcomed one to your needy pussy. The warm pain mixes in a hot pleasure that makes your whole body quake. Then his tip catches on your entrance, and you’re squirming for more; both of you can’t take it anymore. It's then Rolan succumbs to his want and sinks into you. You relish in the feeling of him slipping through your begging entrance. Rolan lets off a slow hiss as he sinks in slowly, letting you feel every ridge reforming your insides to his cock as he goes deeper, slowly. Oh so painly, deliciously, slowly…. Okay maybe he can pick up the pace a tad you are not that damned sensitive. 

You wrap your legs around his textured waist and you dig your heels into his buttcheeks, giving him the encouragement he needs to bottom out faster and bully into you harder.

The splitting of your pussy is mind-numbing, and you can’t help crying out, “AH-ahhhhh~.”

As you moan, you swear you hear the distant hums, then one sharp yes of praise that you know isn’t Rolan because he’s grunting and too busy rutting to speak. It must be those damned horny spirits acting as voyeurs. You go to roll your eyes at them, but then Rolan’s thick length hits that sweet spot in you as he’s reaching the hilt, and you’re now rolling your eyes for an entirely new reason. 

The feeling of his cock so deep in your wet velvet walls is making you preen. Then you feel him pulling back, and your breath evaporates from your lungs, making you silently scream at the sensual drag of the now slicken ridges of his cock move against you. He reaches to his tip before his orbs darken, and he slams back into you, making your body arch and quiver in a  scream.

Rolan digs his nails in as he hushes you licking against your sweating body as he fucks you roughly with reckless abandon. His hips alternated from rolling into you slowly slamming into you rough. The whole thing has you transforming into a needy thing, sounding like a whore in a brothel. Both your sex being so greedy for one another. 

Rolan starts rambling in infernal as he keeps banging into you hard, completely rocking your body past what you thought were your limits. Finally, Rolan leans back down as your body is building to that white-hot pleasure, and you hear his voice purring in your ear, 

“That’s my girl, sucking me in and clamping down. You’re close, aren’t you?”

All you can do is moan and shake your head, yes, like a mad woman. Your approval makes him more excited and his cock throb, as he fucks you even more relentlessly; it’s almost like he’s trying to break you. You dare to move your hips along with him making it his turn to scream like a star, you will be damned to be bested, so you put in some hip work. As the pace builds, so does the sweat building on your bodies, mingling together as the droplets cascade down to where you two touch. The smell of sex in the air is intoxicating, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass married with the wet squelching and panting. It's all so naughty and makes your pearl of nerves throb as his body rubs on your clit with every slide your eyes cross.. The sounds of the spirits are slowly dissipating as you two get closer to your erotic highs. The rough fucking in their temple seeming to be enough to satiate them to the outer realm.  

During your passion Rolan’s hot mouth finds and wraps around your perked nipple in a wet suck, then a sharp bite has you in awe in sexual relive. His tongue sliding on your sensitive skin making hot tears of yes roll from your eyes. Gods he must be a mind reader to know this would drive you mad. 

“I-I- ’m going to c-cum!” you scream sexily. 

Rolan unlatches and moans with you as he presses his cheek to yours, “Me TOOOOO!” 

Rolan’s cock throbbing and shuddering finally pushes you both off the cliff; you’re squirting on his hard length, screaming in pleasure and you make a messily messy mess. Rolan releases his hot seed deep within your bullied cunt; it causes warmth to overtake you from the inside as he moans loudly and shudders. Rolan holds still over you as his balls empty themselves as your greedy pussy milks him dry. 

Thoroughly emptied, Rolan crashes down on top of you as his cock stays buried in you; (both of you praying for a possible second wind later…) you tangle your hands in his soft locks and you cuddle him closer. During your twos come down from your highs, you look up from Rolan and see the three spirits smiling at you two and giving you a bow before fading away. 

Part of you finds them odd, but the other part of you knows they are the reason Rolan was stuck in that chest in the first place and helped you to literally COME together. It’s all so poetic. 

Thank you gods of horiness, though you may not be on this plan any more, but you will never be forgotten.   

Rolan looks up at you and gives you a curious smile before he turns his head to where you are staring, “What are you looking at?” 

You hum, “oh nothing… but I think I have new gods I would like to pray to and I will need your help giving them proper reverence, are you interested?” 

Rolan smiles, “I’ve never been a religious man but if it leads to me getting you like this more often I am more than willing.”

You smile and give him a quick kiss, “We are taking the chest with us… and fucking on it next…” 

Rolan groans, “Oh? Promise?” 

Chapter Text

“– and I still don’t know what she meant by that”, grumbled Lae’zel while wiping off apple sauce off of Xan’s chin.

The silence in the room remained intact for suspiciously long time after she finished speaking. Finally Lae’zel turned around and squinted in suspicion at the people around the table, Xan’s dripping bib still in hand.

Every eye in the room was trained on her. Rion and Jord were clearly struggling to contain their laughter; Minsc clenched his jaw in the same effort.Varrl’s grin had fallen off his face the minute she turned around, and now his gaze was flicking back and forth between Lae’zel and Rion.

Even the High Harper herself couldn’t hide how the corners of her mouth twitched in amusement. Leaning back into her seat at the head of the table, she calmly set aside her cutlery, and interlaced her fingers below her chin.

“Lae’zel, humor me. Would you please repeat, in detail, what the young Lathanderian told you.”

Lae’zel clicked her tongue in irritation, but relented. “She said, ‘maybe I should worship here more often, if it means I get to be saved and see you in a wet shirt’. I really don’t know why–” She paused, because a disastrous hunch was materialising in her mind. “Tsk’va.”

“Ah, now she’s got it.”, Jord drily deduced.

Rion was full on cackling. “Aren’t we lucky that Gith lay eggs! If Xan hadn’t hatched from one we could’ve waited long for you to– ” Jaheira’s warning glare silenced her.

Although Lae’zel was seething, her cheeks ablaze with humiliation, she contained herself. It was immensely gratious, letting Lae’zel and her two charges from Creche Y’llek stay in Elerrathin’s Home after the fall of Netherbrain; But even Jaheira would have her limits, if Lae’zel were to give Rion a piece of her mind the way she wanted to.

Not to mention what effect that would have on Varrl. He hadn’t spoken a word since the bickering had started in earnest, and was still paying far too close attention to where Lae’zel’s hand were for her comfort.

Mother Gith be praised for Xan’s existence in general, but in this moment especially. Entirely unperturbed by the little spat, the hatchling knocked over his bowl of applesauce screeching in delight, only to start chewing on the bowl’s rim. He was covered in fruit mush up to his eyebrows.

Immediately, Lae’zel busied herself to wipe him clean once again, and conversation turned to other matters.

The episode she had recounted at dinner remained forgotten, until Lae’zel laid down to rest.

The sounds of the house slowly died down as its inhabitants settled down for the night, and both Xan’s and Varrl’s breathing grew slow and deep next to her on the bed.

Lae’zel did her best to follow them into slumber, but failed utterly. She told herself it was the heat, or maybe the wound she had sustained that morning – but she knew very well that what was haunting her was not the wound, but the encounter she owed them to.

Finally, she rolled over, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t follow her into her dreams as well.

----

(ding dong she’s wrong lmao)

Early mornings were Lae’zel’s favourite of the shifts she worked down by the sea strand for the Baldur’s Gate Life Guard Service. Jaheira had hooked her up with the job so Lae’zel could get some hours in before the kids awoke and needed her attention. Because, of course, Jaheira had known that there was a job opening to guard the shore from possible Sahuagin attacks before any offers had been posted.

The supervisor, Trobat, was a permanently concerned, wiry little selkie male. Worry had stretched his cheeks and jowels long enough to give him the face of a bloodhound.

But despite his anxiety (“Always keep that silver sword on you! It is imperative!”), there was little to do other than stand tall and look alert, in Lae’zel’s experience – and twenty-two years of military service in K’liir had more than prepared her for that.

Though, of course, there was generally little to look alert at, aside from the occasional fisherman bringing in their haul.

Which meant that the red-robed figure standing by the dock, arms spread wide, stood out like a sore thumb. When they started fussing with their robe’s closure, Lae’zel furrowed her brow and started moving closer.

She dreaded the prospect of having to fish out some naked drunkard who thought an early morning swim was a good idea. Even more though, she dreaded having to explain to Trobat that some fool had drowned and lured in Sahuagin or other necrophages.

The sunrise was almost upon the city. As the sun climbed ever higher, the persons hands worked their way down their garment. Lae’zel quickened her stride, almost breaking into a jog now, silver sword bobbing on her back.

Then, right when the sun broke through the water, the person flung their robe away, and began to declaim dramatically, in a rich, schooled voice, head tipped back in adoration:

“Oh Morninglord!”

The millisecond that followed was one of the longest Lae’zel had ever experienced. The istik’s body positively glowed – every shapely curve of her body bathed by the dawn, as if the light itself couldn’t keep itself from caressing her with its golden rays. She wouldn’t have admitted it even under torture, but in that moment, Lae’zel’s heart tightened as if she’d never seen something so beautiful.

Her heart wasn’t the only muscle that clenched at the sight of the woman’s breasts, but that was besides the point.

Less pleasant was the continuation of the sun worshipper’s litany. Her rich, schooled voice dripped with pathos.

“Oh Morninglord, I welcome you, and honour you this day! I celebrate your light, partaking in your – urghlgl.”

It seemed that Lae’zel wasn’t the only being who’d preferred the less talkative part of the ritual. In that inexcusable moment of istik-breast-induced distraction earlier, Lae’zel had missed the telltale cresting of waves, harbinger of the Sahuagin. Thus, a particularly ugly specimen had yanked the priestess off the pier and was now attempting to draw her under completely, as she screamed bloody murder, sputtering and coughing.

Lae’zel swore under her breath as she sprinted down the strand, silver sword in hand. No matter how grating the istik’s earlier sermon and now her shriek, her drowning was not acceptable.

More monsters jumped from the waters. No matter. Lae’zel had been trained to kill gaikh, but it made no difference that her quarry now was marginally less despicable fish people.

Battle was where Lae’zel excelled. This was what she had been hatched for.

Her sword ripped through one of the monster, guts splattering on the wooden pier, fish stink intensifying. Lae’zel jumped over the slippery blood, cleaving the next Sahuagin’s head clean off – a satisfying splash as it landed in the waves – and tearing her sword into another’s abdomen.

All that stood between her and the priestess was one last beast. It hissed at her through its fangs, foul breath wafting over its victim’s head into Lae’zel’s face. She snarled in retaliation and flung her sword onto the pier, freeing her hands.

She soared through the air and slitted through the waves, reaching her prey in moments.

The Sahuagin turned the priestess so she was between it and its hunter. She was still struggling against it, but growing weaker by the moment.

“H’taka!”, Lae’zel half-panted, half-growled from somewhere deep in her chest, and lunged. The beast threw the naked woman at her to distract her, but she was faster. Her arms and legs tightened around it like a vice, and dropped them both down to the bottom.

Later, she couldn’t say if the fight took seconds or centuries. All she remembered was sharp scales digging into her skin, dagger like teeth tearing into her arms.

The monstrous rattling of the Sahuagin’s throat, in death.

Then, the desperate struggle to the surface.

Long, long moments sucking in air.

Once she had marginally recovered, she looked around for the sun worshipper. She found her only a few arm strokes away, pathetically paddling towards the shore with little success. Her teeth were chattering, her lips blue.

Lae’zel reached her and drew her into the circle of her arms, sharing her own heat with her. As if she had never done anything else, the priestess wrapped her arms around Lae’zel’s neck.

“Thank you”, she declared fervently, still shivering, looking up at Lae’zel. Her eyes were the most piercing amethyst, like the sky right before dawn. Even more distracting was her body, pressing up against Lae’zel’s, her thin shirt doing little to shield her from the softness of the woman’s breasts against her chest.

Lae’zel made a sound that should have been along the lines of, “yes, it is my duty. Let me bring you to safety” but ended up as “hrngf”. Her mouth stood open.

So did the priestess’, interestingly, as she stared at Lae’zel, transfixed.

Their lips moved closer to one another as if out of their own accord. Now, now, the slick heat of her mouth would envelop Lae’zel’s …

If only her teeth hadn’t begun chattering again in that moment. Unfortunately, it was only her lower incisors that clacked against Lae’zel’s unpleasantly and they both twitched back.

“Let me bring you to shore”, said Lae’zel after a beat.

Tynera – for that was the priestess’ name – recovered uncommonly quickly once Lae’zel got her out of the water and wrapped her back up in her robe. Sipping on the hot tea one of the fishermen who had observed their debacle had brought them, she explained to Lae’zel how she’d ended up there on the pier at sunrise.

“I worship Lathander”, she said.

“Yes, I gathered as much”, Lae’zel answered with more bite than she meant to.

Tynera looked miffed, but not discouraged, and continued her tale.

Apparently she came from the Temple of First Light, a branch of the cult of Lathander mainly consisting of drow (like Tynera) who’d turned their back on Lolth and the Underdark. She and some comrades had come to the city for the annual celebration of the summer solstice, and normally undertook the dawn ritual together. This morning Tynera had decided to perform hers in solitude, down by the shore.

“Unwise, I know that now”, she conceded, and tipped her head in a way that brought her closer to Lae’zel, close enough for her breath to ghost over Lae’zel’s clavicle. “Then again, maybe I should worship here more often, if it means I get to be saved and see you in a wet shirt.”

“Chk. Do not joke about risking your life, cleric”, Lae’zel brushed her off. She had been learning much about this strange world in the past few months, but such a thing was madness even here, surely.

Strangely enough, this made a light in Tynera’s eyes dim. “Right”, she said, and their conversation was cut short soon.

---

Lae’zel woke up with a cramp in her jaw and the memory of strange dreams about lavender eyes and the stink of fish guts, and the glum feeling that she had made a fool of herself.

Through gritted teeth, she asked Jaheira to find out where the clerics from the Temple of First Light were to be found. The High Harper delivered within a day, despite all her usual griping about wasting Harper resources.

And so, Lae’zel found herself tapping a quill against her lip, trying to find the right words for inviting someone to spend the last light of the summer solstice with her.

Finally, she put pen to paper and began,

Dear Tynera,

--- FIN

Chapter Text

Again I am asked to bring a level of refined class to this esteemed production, and again I provide. You are all welcome.

Yours,

Rattopher R Ratt, Esq

The Door

The bouncer held up a magical glass, peering through it to examine Astarion. Behind her, Jaheira—yes that Jaheira—strode past in the strappy underwear borrowed from Lae'zel. Jaheira caught his eye, slapped her freckled and dimpled rump and mouthed, "Look at me. I've still got it."

Astarion huffed out his nose. 

"No. Next," the bouncer said.

"No? No!" Astarion exclaimed. "Why not?"

"Age requirements. You must be at least this old—" the bouncer pointed to a series of portraits of the elderly "—to enter. You're too young."

"Too young! Look at me, darling. I am a vision of maturity. White hair, crows feet, gods, do these nasolabial-lines mean nothing to you?" He waved the enchanted key he'd swiped out of Jaheira's bag and used to cross space and time to arrive at Sharess's Caress. "If anyone deserves to save the world with a night of drunken debauchery it's me!"

"Your time will come," the bouncer said, soberly placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It's just been hard, ever since my boyfriend found out what a cheater I am," Astarion pouted.

"Gale deserves better. He deserves Barcus." She shoved him out of the way. "Next!"

Sharess's Couch

"And how long have you been like this, dear?" Morena Dekarious, mother of the Gale who deserved better, asked. She had passed the age requirements and was thus allowed through the door.

"Two months," Sharess moaned. Deep wrinkles covered the goddess's face, her youthful visage wizened to that of a human who was nearly 70, or an elf who was nearly 700, or even a dragon who was nearly 1900. Very, very old, is the point. She was the reason for this occasion. "I'm disgusting."

"Ah, that is what we are here to disprove," Morena said. "Empirically. Would you like to mingle with the crowd?"

"No," Sharess pouted.

Elminster, the old man who haunted Gale, sighed. He'd spent the last five tendays trying to cheer Sharess up, to show the goddess of pleasure that pleasure didn't have an age limit, but to no avail. Today was his final effort, and she was being such an immortal about it!

"Thou must have an open mind," Withers said.

"Easy for you to say! You're used to being retired!" Sharess moaned. "Look at me! I'm as wrinkly as a forgotten lemon!"

Morena was used to deities and their divine pouts. She poured Sharess more wine.

Last Lay

"Jahiera!"

Two massive dildos crisscrossed over the druid’s back. She whirled at the sight of her name to see a man and a woman entering their blanket fort, the man carrying a box. Spies, from the cultists, no doubt. Vines erupted from the floor and wrapped around them.

"Easy! I bring towels," the man said, holding out a box filled with towels, lubrications, water, snacks, and other important orgy supplies.

"And you?" Jaheira asked the woman.

"Ulma. I hunt monsters. I want to help you in your endeavors to out fuck the undead and the necromancer."

"Qualifications?"

Ulma writhed against the vines until she could spread her legs. "Feel for yourself."

The moment the Harper's soft finger found her softer folds, Ulma looked away, a blush heating her face. Jaheira pulled her close, vines sweeping up Ulma's back and through her hair, teasing and pleasing as deft as fingers, but still the Gur refused to give. 

Carefully, Jaheira unstrapped a dildo, sliding it into Ulma's sturdy snatch. Slowly, Jaheira worked herself onto it, holding eye contact, intent on seeing who would come first.

"You're not exaggerating your endurance," Jaheira said.

"You're my greatest challenge yet," Ulma admitted, dragging her teeth over her lower lip. "But if I lose to you, it will be under you, between your thighs, where I belong, thanking you for your care—"

Jaheira grunted and moaned her defeat. Pulling her self off she announced, "All clear, Harpers. At ease. We can't be too careful, these days. Who knows what they're doing in Goonrise Tower."

She glared at the dark pillar of pillows across the room. Ulma glared, too.

Golbriath followed her gaze. A lone butt stuck out between the cushions. "They're… mooning you."

"Hmph. We shall see who is the better at this fuckery. Teebs! Chelvin! Summon some vines! It's time to get serious."

The Hatchery

"Oh, excuse me. Excuse me!"

The githyanki guarding—not huddling in, guarding—the corner found themselves cornered by a white haired woman who looked like she said "jolly" unironically and a hobgoblin who would correct someone's use of the word "sapient". "Excuse me. Lady Esther. Charmed, I'm sure. Would you two fine gentlemen happen to have an egg handy?"

One glanced at the other, who hissed, "She is the one I was telling you about."

"Then she is in luck." To Esther, he said, "Voss. You've met Ko’kuu. We do have an egg. We'd be happy to give it to you, but they're…"

He glanced at Ko'kuu, who understood immediately.

"They're very delicate," Ko’kuu lied. "They must be carried to term. Inside of you."

"Inside me?" Esther laughed. "But they're huge!"

"It's for the betterment of the Society," Blurg reminded her.

"You're right. I'll do it!"

The Door

"You're too young," repeated the bouncer, sweeping off the front steps.

Aradin, Barth and Remira all scoffed.

"Thought you needed olds fuckers," Remira said, holding up the notice.

"Aye. Between jobs, we are," Aradin said. "You need an old plowed? We can to it."

"Not even going to charge!" Barth said.

"Not if we can get a sugar daddy out of it," Aradin said.

"Aye. You got any DILFs in there?"

"MILF? DILF? More like GILF!"

"I'm more into EILFs myself," Barth joked, thinking, Elderly I'd Like to Fuck.

"It's pronounced elves," Remira said.

The bouncer held out the broom like a quarterstaff. "Listen, you lot. It's fucking olds by olds, right? Now get." She waved it menacingly.

"OK, broomer," Aradin snorted.

Groves and Sticks

"Go ahead, have a puff," Elwyn said, holding out the roll. Herself and Karrik had sidled up the Okta and Zevlor the moment they saw them.

"What Kagha did to you wasn't right," Karrik said, his hand brushing over Zevlor's tail, then under it. "Let us make it up to you."

Zevlor tried to look stern, but his tail was already rising. He frowned at Okta.

"I want them to make it up to us," Okta admitted. She took the roll from Elwyn and huffed it. 

"Okta!" Zevlor said, his scandalized tone giving way to a smile.

"Remember Elturel, back in 1469?"

"The summer of free love."

"You, looking fresh in your Hellrider armor."

"You, running carts at the festivals. Beads on your horns…"

Okta took a deep puff of the roll, holding it like she did twenty-odd years ago, then pressed her lips to his and breathed out.

Fisting

"Come on, Ulder, arch your back! Engage your core, keep a neutral spine!" Florrick barked.

Ulder adjusted his hips, thighs tense. 

"Keep a side stance, Manip!"

"Aye, Councillor!" The dwarf squared his jaw. 

"Thrust! Retract! Thrust! Come on Kyberos, don't lose the rhythm!"

"Just keep the call going!" panted Kyberos.

"Thrust! Retract! Thrust! That's it, Magnolia, excellent power!"

"I can do this all day!" Magnolia’s fingers clenched around the straps of her harness. At Florrick’s command, she thrust into Kyberos, who thrust into Manip, who thrust into Ulder, who ate out Florrick's puss platter with all the attention he never gave his son.

"And—done!" Florrick said, orgasming with military precision. She rolled out from under Ulder and took  Liara's seat. Ulder lay himself down. Without letting Kyberos's dick slip out of his rear, Manip knelt over the duke and took him in mouth. Magnolia spread her own cheeks so Liara could join their marching line, then Ulder took a deep breath.

He said, "And THRUST!"

Goonrise Tower

Ketheric slumped on his throne, Viconia in his lap, watching his cultists, Kressa and Maghtew, tumble on the ground. Hendly, one of Viconia's men, was strapped into a pillory, his arse shoved through the walls.

"Eveyone can see my balls!" Hendly was saying in playful shame. "Oh, nooo, I'm such a Shar-let, everyone can see my little darkness!"

"Ram your bone into my grave," Kressa ordered. "Oh, fuck me, fuck your Krustine!"

Maghtew rutted against her.

"Yes, my sweet meat, we must entertain our dear general! Beat my pussy black and blue! Harder! Harder, Maghtew!"

"Gesundheit," Ketheric sighed.

"What's the matter, Ketheric?" Viconia drawled. "You have the finest drow on the surface right here. Cleric of your goddess. Yet you dare to be bored?"

Ketheric shrugged.

"Very well. I will reward you this one time. Tell me, Ketheric, what would make you happy?"

Ketheric sighed. "I miss my wife."

The Door

"Bald, see? A sign of wisdom. Maturity!" 

The bouncer signed. 10 years at Lady Felicity's Finishing It School for Statuesque Girls, the top of her class in looming and list checking, for her career as a bouncer to come to this.

"Minsc is over one hundred! Over one hundred and twenty! This is quite a long time. Very old, for a human. Old, even, for a Minsc."

"Saer, respectfully, you're still much too young."

"You are certain? Minsc is not afraid to offer his services, to save the world."

"We are sure."

"Then how about Boo?"

Groves and Sticks

"Got room for one more in this party?" came a honeyed voice.

"Auntie!" Zevlor exclaimed, bouncing Elwyn over his cock. With every ridge she went, "oh!"

And Okta said, less excited, "Auntie. So you're here, too."

"Don't act like you aren't happy to see me." Ethel brushed a hand over her human collarbones, then squeezed her human tits. "I've seen you peeking, over your stew pot. You look lonely."

Okta glanced at Zevlor, who had Karrik's face buried under his tail, and Elwyn going, "Oh! Oh! Oh!" She looked back at Ethel, who said, "Come, petel. Don't you want a taste of my marshlands?"

The Hatchery 

"—too big!" Esther moaned, clinging to Blurg's shoulders. She was on her knees, straddling the hobgoblin. Voss held her hips in place while Ko'kuu tried to shove an egg into her baby-canal.

"Muling, eh?"The group turned to see two mercenaries. The man smirked and said, "We Zhents know a lot about muling."

"Zhents?" mused Blurg. "I thought you ran product!"

"Aye. Sometimes a Zhent has a caravan. Sometimes a Zhent is a caravan. Name's Rugan. This is Boss Friol. Step aside."

Rugan prodded Esther's opening, then the other one, then examined the egg. "Nae, this is the kind of cargo you put in the trunk."

"You there," Friol said to Blurg. "Rub her little boy in the boat."

"Her what?" Blurg said, looking scared. "There's a boy?"

"Her clit."

"I only know mindflayer anatomy!"

Friol sighed, then squatted next to him, taking advantage of her rock gnome stature to slip between them. "Right here," she said, pressing his hand over Esther's society of brilliance. Rugan flagged down Golbriath and coated his fingers liberally in oil.

"Oh," Esther moaned as he slipped into her delivery chute. "Oh, Blurg, we must document this. A slight stretch, but an immediate release of endorphins. Are my nipples hardening?"

Blurg checked. "They are."

"Give her another," Ko'kuu said.

"Are you the professional at packing arses?" Rugan snapped.

"I'm the professional with githyanki eggs," Ko'kuu said cooly. "Even unfertilized ones will harden if left in the dry for too long."

Rugan rolled his eyes and squeezed in another finger.

Esther moaned, "Oh, Blurg, write this down!"

The Bar

"Back for more," Golbriath announced, ducking into the bar. Hoots poured him a pint of hooch. "Where are the others?"

"Old Troutman and Cora are both a bit buzzed. Getting into the spirit of things with a very frisky… cuddle."

Golbriath smiled and shook his head, joking, "Those crazy kids."

"And Yannis has been watching the Fists, getting a bit of a wank on. She's a right freak."

"Good for her!"

Hoots put a hand on Golbriath's shoulder. "And you, saer? You don't need to run errands like this. You can have some fun, yourself. I'll be sneakin' off soon, if you're interested."

"Appreciate it, Hoots, but I like to help."

The Door

"No. Next!" said the bouncer. 

A perfectly manicured hand slammed on her shoulder, one that managed to be human and not at the same time. 

"What do you mean, no?"

The bouncer was not very intelligent, and kept most of her smarts in her bowels, which wisely warned her they would shit themselves if she didn't treat this guest respectfully. "Saer. There are requirements that…"

"I meet them." Gently, the guest pushed her aside. She allowed it; 100 gold didn't go as far as it used to. Certainly not worth dying over.

Groves and Sticks

"Disgusting!" Magic whirled around a rat, who transformed into a halfling. Oloden. "You druids, fornicating with these city folk!"

Okta didn't look up, too entangled with Ethel to care, but Zevlor and his druids paused for a moment.

"Mmph!" Karrick said, because Zevlor's tail filled his throat.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Elwyn said, pulling herself off Zevlor's cock. "You're the shadow druid Kahga was talking with."

"And you're a traitor to the ecosystem!" Oloden said. "Leaving a snail trail all over an urbanite."

"It doesn't have to be like that. We can get along."

"Bmwwy wlph!" Karrick added.

Elwyn knealt before Oloden and spread her legs. "Come. Let me show you everything my grove has to offer."

Goonrise

"They're out fucking us!" Viconia yelled, vines rolling over her. Kressa and Maghtew had already fallen to the Harper's seductive ways, filling their evil aligned holes with good aligned flesh. "Ketheric! Do something!"

But the undead general had met his match in the eyes of Ulma. He shook, eyes closed, as she kissed him. Gentle as moonlight. Just like Melodia had. Ulma wiped tears from his cheeks and said, "Come, let me bring you back to life."

"No!" Viconia yelled. Jahiera dragged her to her knees. "You!"

"Me. We meet again. Still as poison tongued as always?"

"Still a mongrel. You… you sexy mongrel of an elf!" Viconia's head lolled forward. "All these years and I tried to forget you. Why did Shar not take the memories of your perfect lips and drawn-on eyebrows and slutty makeup from my mind?"

"I'm sure she tried. I am just too sexy."

Viconia snarled, "What now? We fuck?"

"Perhaps. If you earn it. But first, you deserve to be punished. 25 spankings. You will count each one."

"Pah! Nothing to a drow like me. Do your worst."

"Not me." Jaheira stepped aside to reveal the one who would deliver a flogging.

Viconia gasped. "Emmeline!"

Shadowheart's mother raised a riding crop. "May Selûne guides my blows with majestic wisdom and grace."

Sharess's Couch

"It does feel good," Sharess said breathily.

Morena pulled back, Sharess's nipple popping out of her mouth. "Of course it does. Why wouldn't it?"

"All this extra skin—"

"It's just more to feel with!" Sharess gasped when Morena pulled off her shirt, revealing a soft, sensual body. Over her heart, a tattoo proclaimed, "Sussurbarc OTP".

Morena brought the goddesses hands to her own breasts. "See how nice they are? How warm."

"Velvety," Sharess breathed.

"A bosom companion," Withers said, cuddling his own big naturals. "Once thou hast found the perfect chest, thy must ne'er let go."

"Excellent wisdom!" Morena grinned, also cuddling his big naturals.

"A Wither's Original. Sharess, dost thy feel good?"

"I do. I do!" Sharess said, pillowed on both his and Morena's big naturals.

"Dost thou feel pretty?"

"I…"

"Dost thou feel sexy?"

"I…"

"Dost thou feel nasty?"

"Yes!" Sharess buried her face in Morena's chest. "I don't feel pretty, or sexy! I just feel nasty!"

Morena glared at Withers, who winced. She held Saress tightly. "Look. Look at this crowd. Look at—"

"Oh, Mystra's muff, not him!" Elminster growled. He lept up, balls swinging like a pendulum as he ran for the guest who'd just forced himself past the bouncer. "No! No. Get out, Raphael. This event is for the elderly. You're just wearing your age! You're not actually living it."

The cambion smirked. "I cannot believe Mystra's lap dog is throwing an orgy. Without me. How dare you. I am here, and I've added some extra years onto this form just to prove a point."

"He is quite…" Sharess started, taking in Raphael's fine form and laugh lines.

"He really is," Morena said, blushing.

"Verily, that devil beith the thickest slab of meat in all this realm," Withers said, also blushing.

"If he can be sexy, so can you," Morena pointed out.

Sharess looked shyly down at her thighs, the skin a little looser than she was used to. Her paunched stomach, the spots on her hands.

"A fine body," Jaheira said, stepping up to their cusions. "Dappled by age like shadows through leaves."

"These veins, a map of where to kiss," said Zevlor.

"A—" Viconia started, but Emmeline spanked her.

Golbriath held out a tray of citrus. "People think lemons are awful, but with a little bit of sugar, they're delicious."

"Verily, the elderly need not walkest alone," Withers said.

"Indeed. How very touching," Raphael yawned. "But I was told we would fuck."

"I just reupped the lube!" Golbriath said.

And across the room, Florrick said, "Fists! Form up! Time for another round!"

FIN

Chapter Text

Lancelot du Lac (Amended)

Directed by Tav "The Savior" Vat

Cast of Characters

Arthur (played by Halsin)

Guinevere (played by Shadowheart)

Lancelot (played by Astarion)

Merlin (played by Gale)

Narration by Lae'zel

Lighting by Rolan

Music by Alfira

Costuming by Carm's Garm

Synopsis

In the heart of Baldur’s Gate’s Lower City, a passionate director brings to life an amended resolution to the legendary love triangle between Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot. Driven by a desire to correct the missteps of past tellings, this adaptation seeks to explore the deep complexities of love, betrayal, and honor that have defined these iconic characters for centuries.

***This production is brought to you by BBC (Baldurian Bardic Company)***

PROLOGUE

[The stage is dark. Slowly, a single glowing orb—a carefully controlled casting of "Dancing Lights"—illuminates the center of the stage, revealing the Narrator standing tall, their posture rigid. Their expression is one of mild disdain as they begin to narrate the tale that has led to this pivotal moment.]

NARRATOR
In the ancient halls of Camelot, once a bastion of honor and loyalty, rot has set in—a betrayal festers, threatening to unravel the kingdom’s very core. King Arthur, once revered by his knights and cherished by his people, finds his world shattered by the treachery of those closest to him. Guinevere, bound to him by vow, now disgraces herself with Lancelot, the king’s most trusted knight.

This betrayal, whether by fate’s cruel hand or darker forces at work, plunges the king into chaos. Yet even in the midst of turmoil, love—a foolish, stubborn thing—refuses to die. Arthur, torn between duty and desire, summons his council—knights, advisors, those he still dares to call friends—to witness the reckoning of his wayward love.

[The Dancing Lights shift, duplicating into 3 bright orbs, illuminating the stage to reveal the council chambers, a vast and echoing space. The King's majestic throne sits center-stage.]

Guinevere, once a queen, was now knelt before the throne that was to be hers, held down by the very knights sworn to defend her. Yet Arthur, consumed by grief and rage, could not stomach the judgment of others. He dismissed them, leaving only himself and the woman who had betrayed him—not as king and queen, but as man and woman.

In tales of old, Arthur's pain drove him to cast Guinevere out, banishing her from both his kingdom and his heart. But in this retelling, we reject that weakness.

This is where the story begins anew—a tale of love, betrayal, and the weak threads of trust. Watch now, as the king and future queen face the ghosts of their past and the darkness of what lies ahead...

[The Dancing Lights fade, leaving the stage in darkness. After a moment of heavy silence, the orbs return to reveal Arthur and Guinevere, alone in the council chambers, the tension in the air thick.]

SCENE 1

ARTHUR
(Turning dramatically, he walks around the throne, his voice filled with both pain and longing.)

What are you still doing on your knees? Am I just your king? Get up, for goodness' sake. I was to be your husband.

(Slowly rising to her feet, tears stream down Guinevere's face, her expression heavy with guilt and sorrow.)

What happened, Guinevere? We were happy... I know we were happy...

(His voice trembles as he struggles to hold back his own tears. Guinevere nods, unable to speak, overwhelmed with emotions.)

You felt it too?

(Hope flickers in his eyes as he searches her face. Guinevere nods again, crying, then shakes her head apologetically.)

You love him? You always loved him?

(His voice breaks as he asks the question he dreads.)

GUINEVERE
(Shaking her head vigorously.)

No...

ARTHUR
(His volume rises, desperation creeping into his voice.)

All those times you said you wanted to be with me?

GUINEVERE
(Her voice is earnest, tinged with regret.)

I meant every word.

ARTHUR
(He takes a deep breath.)

Tomorrow was our wedding day...

GUINEVERE
(Her voice is a whisper.)

I know.

ARTHUR
(His voice wavers.)

If you had worries...

GUINEVERE
(Shakes her head, her voice stronger now.)

I wasn't worried.

ARTHUR
(A hint of desperation returns.)

If you had doubts...

GUINEVERE
(Firmly, trying to reassure him.)

I didn't have any doubts.

ARTHUR
(Suddenly, his emotions overflow, and he grabs her by the arms, his voice filled with a mix of anger and confusion.)

Then forgive me, because I must be really stupid! What were you doing?

(Realizing he’s holding her too tightly, he immediately lets go, stepping back, his anger giving way to regret.)

Sorry.

GUINEVERE
(Shakes her head, her voice trembling.)

No... No, no, it is I who should be sorry. You mean everything to me, Arthur. Once... there was Lancelot, a long time ago, but I haven't considered him in that way for many years. I thought he was dead. I thought I would never see him again.

(She takes a step closer, her voice softening, filled with raw emotion.)

And then when I did, I was overwhelmed. I was drawn to him, I couldn't stop myself. I do not know why. But I love you. You mean everything to me. All these years I have waited for you.

ARTHUR
(His voice cracks, filled with both pain and longing.)

You only had to wait one more day.

GUINEVERE
(Desperation fills her voice as she steps even closer, her hands reaching out to him.)

All I've ever wanted is to be your queen. I still want to be your queen.

ARTHUR
(Arthur turns away, his heart torn. His voice is heavy, almost broken.)
Do you know what they're saying? That in my father's day you'd be put to death.

(Guinevere flinches at his words, but Arthur turns back to her, his eyes searching hers.)

GUINEVERE
(Her voice is soft, filled with fear and hope.)

I know.

ARTHUR
(Takes a deep breath, his voice trembling.)

I don't want to see you dead, Guinevere. I don't want to lose you. But... I don't want to look on you every day and see this... betrayal.

(He pauses, his eyes closing briefly as he takes another deep breath, gathering his thoughts. He takes her hands in his.)

But perhaps... there’s a way forward. A way to move past this, to heal what’s been broken.

GUINEVERE
(Guinevere looks at him, hope and confusion flickering in her eyes.)
Arthur?

ARTHUR
(His voice softens, filled with the beginnings of forgiveness.)

I love you, Guinevere. But we need to be honest with each other. No more secrets. And if Lancelot makes you happy...

(His voice cracks and he looks away, a mix of shame and embarrassment crossing his features.)

GUINEVERE
(Nods, tears in her eyes.)
Arthur... Are you sure about this?

ARTHUR
(He crosses the chamber quickly, opening the door and speaking to a guard.)

Fetch Lancelot. Bring him to me.

(The guard hesitates, surprised by the command, but then bows and exits quickly to carry out Arthur’s order. Arthur turns back to Guinevere, his expression a mix of sadness and resolve. His voice is quiet, almost to himself.)

We’ll face this together. All of us.

[As Arthur and Guinevere embrace, the orbs slowly fade, casting the scene into shadow.]

SCENE 2

NARRATOR
The king summons his knight. The chamber grows dark, the past pressing down on them like a blade at the throat. Soon, the three will stand together, fate hanging in the balance. Will they forge a path of healing... or carve out a future filled with more suffering?

[The stage remains in darkness for a moment longer, the silence heavy, before the Dancing Lights slowly burst into life again. The scene remains in the council chambers. The heavy wooden doors creak open, and Lancelot is led in by the guard. His hands are shackled, and his head is bowed, but his posture is still proud. Arthur and Guinevere stand together, but they step apart as Lancelot enters, creating a tense triangle between them.]

LANCELOT

(Lancelot stands just inside the doorway, his eyes slowly lifting to meet Arthur’s. There’s a mix of guilt and defiance in his gaze, as if he’s ready to face whatever judgment Arthur has in store for him. Guinevere, standing beside Arthur, shifts nervously, her eyes flicking between the two men.)

ARTHUR
(His voice is low and controlled.)

Lancelot.

LANCELOT
(Lancelot nods. His voice is steady, though tinged with remorse.)
Arthur. Guinevere.

ARTHUR
(Takes a step forward, his eyes never leaving Lancelot’s.)
Do you know why I brought you here?

LANCELOT
(Nods again, his gaze falling to the floor.)
I assume... to face judgment for what I’ve done.

ARTHUR
(Pauses, studying Lancelot for a moment, as if weighing his next words carefully.)
Not quite. I’ve thought about this a lot, Lancelot. About what you and Guinevere mean to me. And I’ve realized that... this doesn’t have to be the end. It doesn’t have to destroy what we have.

(Lancelot looks at Arthur, surprised by his words. There’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he shifts his gaze to Guinevere.)

LANCELOT
(Tentatively, his voice filled with uncertainty.)
Arthur... what are you saying?

ARTHUR
(Takes a deep breath, his eyes softening as he looks at Guinevere, taking her hand.)

I’m saying that maybe... maybe we can find a way forward. Together. All of us. If you’re both willing to try, then so am I.

[The stage plunges into darkness, the audience catching the faint sounds of shuffling furniture and hurried footsteps as the crew quickly resets the scene. To drown out the noise, a musician strikes up a tune—a smooth, sultry melody, unmistakably reminiscent of a 70s adult play soundtrack.]

SCENE 3

NARRATOR
The stage is reset, the grand hall now a chamber for raw truths. The king, his queen, and his knight stand in tense silence, uncertain of what moves to make. It is a moment of hesitation, of unspoken desires... and perhaps, the foolish hopes of fragile humans.

[As the lights slowly rise, Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot are revealed standing in an awkward circle at the center of the room.]

GUINEVERE

(Guinevere takes Arthur's hand in her left, Lancelot's in her right.)

Well. Here we are.

[The lights dim slightly as the music increases in volume, the vaguely lewd tune echoing across the stage.]

ARTHUR
(Gently tilting Guinevere's chin up with his hand, he gazes into her eyes, his expression softening.)

I love you, Gwen. Always.

(He leans in, pressing his lips to hers in a tender, yet deeply passionate kiss. The kiss lingers, full of the love and history they share. Guinevere closes her eyes, melting into the kiss, her hand resting on Arthur’s chest. After a moment, they pull apart, but only slightly. Arthur’s hand remains on Guinevere’s cheek as she turns her gaze toward Lancelot. There’s a moment of silent communication between them before she reaches out to him, her eyes full of unspoken emotions.)

GUINEVERE
(Her voice is a whisper.)

Lancelot...

(Lancelot steps forward, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from Guinevere’s face. He leans in, his breath mingling with hers for a brief moment before their lips meet. The kiss is softer, more hesitant, but filled with a deep, unspoken connection. Guinevere responds, her hand sliding up to cup the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens. They part slowly, their foreheads resting against each other for a moment, sharing a breath before they both turn their attention back to Arthur. Arthur and Lancelot exchange a glance, filled with both hesitation and understanding. The awkwardness hangs in the air for a brief moment, as if the weight of what they are about to do is almost too much to bear. But then, Arthur takes a breath, his resolve clear.)

ARTHUR
(With a quiet determination, he steps closer to Lancelot, his hand reaching up to rest on Lancelot’s shoulder.)

Knight...

(Their eyes meet, the tension between them palpable. Slowly, Arthur leans in, his lips hovering just above Lancelot's, as if giving him one last chance to pull away. But Lancelot doesn’t move. He closes the distance, and their lips meet in a kiss that starts slow before growing more urgent, the hesitation giving way to a surge of passion that neither of them can hold back.)

NARRATOR
The king, the queen, and the knight seal their union not with words, but with the pressing of lips. A strange custom, this kissing, yet it holds meaning for them. They have ventured into the unknown, bound now by something beyond loyalty or duty... something akin to what humans call love.

(When they finally pull apart, there is a quiet understanding between them, a shared sense of purpose. Their lips meet again, more fervently this time, low grunts escaping during breaths.)

GUINEVERE

(She bites her lip, watching them hungrily, her eyes locked on the intensity of their kiss.)
Arthur? Lancelot?

(Her voice is soft, almost a whisper, as her hands begin to explore her body enticingly. She bats her eyelashes at the two men, hoping to catch their attention. But the kiss between Arthur and Lancelot deepens, their focus entirely on each other, the world around them fading away.)

ARTHUR

(Arthur’s hand slides up to cup Lancelot’s face, pulling him closer as the kiss grows more intense, his breath quickening. His other hand reaches down, stroking tentatively at a hardening length in Lancelot's trousers.)

LANCELOT
(Lancelot’s hands grip Arthur’s shoulders, matching the intensity, his body pressing closer to Arthur’s.)

GUINEVERE
(Her frustration starts to build as she watches them, her enticing gestures going unnoticed. She steps closer, her voice a bit more insistent.)
Lancelot? Arthur?

(Still, they don’t respond, too wrapped up in each other to notice her presence. Guinevere’s frustration turns to determination. She steps right up to them, shoving her way between the two men, breaking their kiss with a firm push. Startled, Arthur and Lancelot pull back, blinking in surprise as Guinevere positions herself between them, her hands resting on both of their chests. Her voice is both teasing and commanding as she looks from one to the other, a mischievous glint in her eyes.)

Now, now, boys... don’t forget about me.

(Guinevere gently guides Arthur's hand away from Lancelot's throbbing length, redirecting it to tenderly cradle her breast instead. Her own fingers take over, sensuously caressing her lover's rigid shaft while Arthur's touch explores her soft curves. The two men lean into each other once more, their lips meeting in a fervent, hungry embrace.)

LANCELOT

(Breaking the kiss, he swiftly tears off his shirt. Arthur, not wasting a moment, does the same. As Guinevere tries to join in by removing her top, the men, seized by passion, gently push her aside to focus entirely on each other. Lancelot eagerly begins untying Arthur's trousers, revealing his massive cock.)

Gods, my king... You're...

GUINEVERE
(She sighs softly, twirling a lock of hair around her finger, her eyes half-lidded as she waits for them to notice her. But they don’t—too engrossed in each other to pay her any mind. Finally, she lets out a louder, exaggerated sigh, but even this goes unnoticed.)

ARTHUR

(He silences Lancelot with a fervent kiss. Their tongues dance passionately as he helps Lancelot shed his trousers, baring his rigid length. Their bare bodies press together, hands exploring with insatiable desire, while Guinevere, equally naked, tries desperately to draw their attention. Arthur breaks their kiss, his words breathy.)

I want you, Lancelot.

GUINEVERE

(Guinevere furrows her brow, looking on with confusion. She attempts to strike an enticing pose, drawing one hand up her hip delicately.)

And me, Arthur? Lancelot?

LANCELOT

(Lays on the bed, bending at the waist to bare himself before his king.)

Take me, Arthur.

ARTHUR

(He positions himself behind Lancelot, his breath quickening. With a spit into his hand, he eagerly strokes his impressive length, anticipation making him throw his head back. Gently, he pulls Lancelot closer, guiding the head of his cock towards Lancelot's eager hole.)

Mmm... Lancelot, I do Knight thee...

LANCELOT

(With a groan, he pushes himself back onto Arthur's cock. The slap of skin on skin fills the stage, mingling with soft moans and exaggerated breaths.)

Oh, my king. My king...

GUINEVERE
(Aggravated and defeated, she throws her hands up in exasperation.)

Hello?!

(Just as she takes a seat in the daybed in the corner of the room, the door to the bedchamber swings open, and Merlin bursts in, clearly flustered and out of breath.)

MERLIN

(His eyes go wide as he takes in the scene before him. Quickly, he covers his eyes with one hand, his cheeks flushing a deep red.)

Arthur? I—uh—oh, by the Gods...

(Arthur and Lancelot freeze, their heads snapping up to see Merlin standing in the doorway, hand over his eyes. Guinevere, seizing the moment, smirks and gets to her feet, pulling a loose bedsheet lazily against her chest as she saunters over to the door.)

GUINEVERE

(Her tone is playful, teasing as she approaches the door.)

Merlin? Wait!

(She runs to the door of the bedchamber, her hands held lazily against her chest, barely concealing her bare frame.)

Wait! Do you... do you want to join?

ARTHUR
(His voice is surprisingly gentle as he speaks, continuing his gentle thrusts into Lancelot. A small smile plays on his lips.)
Merlin, you know... you’re welcome to join us, if you want.

MERLIN

(Merlin’s face, already a deep shade of crimson, somehow manages to grow even redder. He looks between Arthur and Lancelot, then back to Guinevere, who’s watching him with a mischievous grin.)

If you wish, my king.

(Merlin quickly disrobes, and Arthur outstretches a hand, beckoning him closer. Merlin steps toward Arthur hesitantly, his cock already half-hard with intrigue. Guinevere follows.)

ARTHUR

(He pushes Lancelot into a laying position, settling beneath the weight of Arthur. Arthur exposes himself to Merlin with a flirtatious wink.

MERLIN

(Merlin swallows nervously as he positions himself behind Arthur, summoning a slick, viscous liquid to thoroughly lubricate his cock. With gentle precision, he eases himself into Arthur's inviting hole, finding himself at the rear of a sex-chain with his most trusted friend.)

GUINEVERE

(Tears begin to stream down her face, a mixture of confusion and embarrassment crossing her features. Her sobs are drowned out by the vocal pleasures of the 3 men in the king's bed. She throws herself onto the daybed in the corner once more, mournful longing in her gaze as she watches on.)

NARRATOR

Guinevere, surrounded by more men than she ever imagined, yet none offer her the attention she yearns for. Arthur, king of the realm, at last claims what he was owed: a happy ending—or perhaps, three.

[The music, which had been playing throughout the entirety of the scene, reaches a climax. The stage fades to black, signaling the end of the final rehearsal.]

The silence that follows is heavy, almost expectant, before it’s broken by a slow, deliberate clap from your hands. The sconces decorating the walls of Flymm's Cargo flare to life, revealing you standing at the edge of the makeshift stage, a twisted smile curling at your lips.

As the space is illuminated, the true scene before you is not quite as marvelous as the script would have had one believe. The grandeur of Camelot’s great hall, the intimacy of the king’s bedchamber—none of it exists outside the imagination.

Sparse props are scattered about the warehouse—a few barrels and crates, stacked haphazardly to form a rough approximation of a throne, its regal appearance marred by splintered wood and peeling paint. A tattered cloak hangs limply from a rope, serving as a makeshift tapestry.

The backdrop, intended to represent the grandeur of Camelot, is nothing more than crudely painted fabric, with mismatched colors and uneven lines. The so-called ‘magnificent king’s bed’ is a large bale of hay, poorly disguised with tattered blankets and moth-eaten pillows. Scattered across the floor are the remnants of what were meant to be regal clothes—nothing more than old rags, frayed at the edges, discarded in a heap.

The entire set, once veiled in the drama of the play, now lies exposed for what it truly is: a low-budget operation held together by wishful thinking and some hastily applied paint.

Unbothered by the state of your shoddily-created scenes, your voice cuts through the air, sharp and filled with a dark satisfaction. "Bravo! What an impeccable final rehearsal."

You catch, and ignore, the quiet mutterings of a prestidigitation incantation as Gale cleans the actors up for a tenth time today. You step forward with a grin that only deepens with each passing second. You begin to pace across the stage, your voice gaining a theatrical edge as you relish in the reveal as the cast begins to redress themselves. "Truly, your portrayal of heartbreak, Halsin... chef’s kiss. And Shadowheart, my dearest..."

You pause, a gleam of satisfaction in your eyes as you imagine the sheer pain and confusion Guinevere would have felt watching her loves entangle with one another, leaving her out in the cold.

"You were magnificent!" Your grin widens as you continue, your tone mocking, "Guinevere, oh, Guinevere. The tragic queen-to-be, the betrayer-turned-betrayed. So noble, so pure... so utterly pathetic."

Shadowheart offers a concerned smile before a playful bow, delicately picking stuck twigs of hay from her body with a grimace. Halsin looks at you with soft, wide eyes full of unease, yet says nothing as he passes by. Astarion pulls on his clothes with a groan, annoyance lacing his movements. "Gods, I cannot wait for this to be over with. I am tired of this wretched script."

Shadowheart chuckles as she adjusts her clothes. "Hah. Sure looked like you were enjoying yourself..."

As the cast bickers behind you, their words fade into the background, muted by your joy. Every re-rewrite, every sleepless night, every tear shed—it was all worth it to see her suffer. To watch Guinevere crumble, to reduce her to nothing.

After all—you always hated that bitch.

Chapter Text

Minthara rolled her shoulders, settling into the Elfsong’s finest armchair. It had a rigid, upright back, and she did enjoy envisioning it as a throne, herself as a regal Matron surveying her assembled army. Today, however, her soldiers were nowhere to be seen; out sunning themselves in the park, purchasing potions, exercising their mouths and not their wits with some of the hopeless specimens they’d collected for themselves as friends.

Oh, but she missed Tav, even in the space of four hours. It was not Minthara’s way to form unrequited bonds – to debase herself in loving someone who would not have her – but she could not help regretting Tav’s misfortune in having married a man before she ever met her. They could have made the most powerful – and sensual – alliance this side of Menzoberranzan.

It was not to be, though. Minthara had dropped enough hints about any man’s unworthiness to stand by her regal Tav’s side, but the folly and sentimentality of the surface was not so easily defeated. Tav had been delighted to rejoin her husband once they reached Baldur’s Gate, and more and more Minthara felt the pain of being deprived of her greatest ally.

She sighed, and picked up her book. All this energy had to be channelled somewhere, and she had recently picked up this tome from a street-seller. The House-Matron’s Pleasure, it read. Translated from the Drow. Inaccurate in places, but it was sufficing.

Now, which page had she left it at? Ah, yes.

The Matron Mother laughed at the supplications of the pathetic man in front of her. His eyes widened as she grasped her tentacle rod –

Minthara’s fingers slipped down beneath her leathers, stroking in delicious anticipation.

– ‘Spread yourself,’ she commanded –

Heat ripped through Minthara’s thighs, a feverish hunger for conquest. Oh, how she would like to have a houseboy between her legs now, drinking the juices of her dominion. The only thing better would be –

‘Anybody here? It’s only me!’

She sighed, and rolled her eyes. That wretched wizard. He was not even worthy of tentacles. As he came into view, she withdrew her fingers, but did not bother to re-lace her trousers, or cast aside her book. He should feel the force of her displeasure.

‘Ah,’ Gale muttered, shifting a little from foot to foot. ‘My apologies. I did not mean to interrupt you.’

Minthara only stared. Perhaps if she stared long enough, the wizard would simply wither away in front of her.

‘Oh, I see you’re reading that book.’ He dipped his shoulder in the most irritatingly whimsical manner. She loathed how his body language always apologised for his presence. Weakness displayed for all to see.

‘Yes,’ she growled. ‘I did not expect you back until six.’

‘Ah, I went to Sorcerous Sundries and had a bit of a dispute with Rolan. I get the impression he finds me patronising.’

‘Matronising,’ Minthara corrected him.

‘Of course,’ Gale chuckled. ‘I do find your Underdark mannerisms charming.’

‘Is there a point to this conversation, wizard?’

Gale blinked, blushing. She had known about his little crush on her for quite some time; since she deigned to actually look at his face, a tenday or two after joining Tav’s party. For some reason, every time she made the full force of her disinterest known, he only flushed harder. Pathetic. Again.

‘I had a look at your book,’ he said, cheerfully.

Internally, Minthara cursed, realising that he was determined to make conversation. If it weren’t for Tav, she thought – but Tav valued Gale’s presence, for some reason, and had asked her not to be too cruel. Minthara ferreted around, deep inside, to find a mote of patience with which to continue the conversation.

‘You did?’ she said, in her most measured tone. ‘And tell me, Gale of Waterdeep, what did you think?’

‘Well, um, the branding is perhaps a bit much. And the whipping. Actual blood spilled happens to be a hard limit of mine. But… I do enjoy a powerful woman.’

Minthara’s eyebrows raised. She had to concede he could be bold.

‘I see,’ she said finally. ‘How… interesting.’

‘One of my favourite fantasies,’ Gale confided, ‘is getting stuck in a portal and having someone have their way with me. Taking advantage, as it were.’

‘I understood that Tav found you in a portal,’ Minthara remarked, rather acidly.

‘Oh, that was unintentional.’ Another shoulder dip. If he did that one more time, she might resort to restraints. Purely so that she didn’t have to see it again, of course.

‘I’ve never had those kinds of feelings about Tav,’ Gale said. ‘Perfectly lovely, but I see our expert leader as a friend only.’

‘So,’ Minthara asked, ‘if someone found you, stuck in such an arcane device, they should not assume you wish to be taken advantage of?’

‘Are you asking if –’

Minthara rolled her eyes, already regretting the overture. Gale’s widened. He shook off his surprise hastily, replying –

‘Oh. Well, in that case – quite the opposite. If I should happen to get stuck in a portal – and was happened upon by a terrifyingly beautiful paladin – then I think I can safely say I would like to be taken advantage of. Very much, in fact.’

‘Hmm,’ Minthara replied.

‘Is that a – yes?’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘Enough questions, wizard. I wish to be left alone with my book.’

The next day, Minthara decided to visit Dammon to have her sword sharpened. The screech of metal soothed her thoughts enough to let her sort them.

She had never seen sex as precious, of course; not with a man, anyway. House-boys were simply toys, to be enjoyed as the women of the house chose. And yet, it felt almost like a betrayal of her beloved Tav, to consider having sex with Gale. More than consider; she felt assured that upon her return to the Elfsong, Gale would be firmly lodged in some portal or other. So if sex was not the problem… then a new, and worse, explanation presented itself. That itch she felt when she looked at the wizard was… affection?

‘Wretched surface-dwellers,’ Minthara muttered to herself.

Dammon blanched.

‘I didn’t mean you,’ she retorted. She felt rather reassured by his reaction; it was pleasing to put a man in his place. She would merely have to ensure that the encounter with Gale stayed as only that. A chance to service her basest desires and emerge a renewed woman, sated and ready for battle.

When she arrived back, she was unimpressed. A fully-clothed backside, and two hopefully-twitching legs, stuck out of a large purple portal.

‘Gale,’ Minthara growled.

‘Minthara! Oh dear,’ Gale called from inside the portal. ‘I appear to be stuck!’

She gave him – or what she could see of him – a look of utmost scorn.

‘I see you are.’

Gale’s voice came out a little muffled. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘Clearly, we have different understandings of which bit of you should be trapped in a portal.’

‘Ah; in Waterdhavian literature –’

‘Surface nonsense,’ Minthara rapped, cutting him off. ‘Obviously it is your tongue that I am most interested in. Did you think I packed my strap-on when I joined the Absolute?’

‘Oh –’

‘And still you are fully dressed. A waste of my time.’

‘Wait!’ Gale called. ‘No need to be so hasty, I can rearrange! Easiest to do the portal, I think; my waist is jammed rather firmly inside this arcane ring –’

Minthara narrowed her eyes at the sound of an incantation being uttered. She was already beginning to regret this, but just as she was about to announce that she didn’t have time for games, the portal flipped. Gale’s legs disappeared from one side whilst his head and shoulders appeared from the other.

‘There we go,’ Gale said, pulling his arm out of the portal to wave.

The wave was irritating, but his head was at the perfect height to straddle, and she had to commend the urgency with which he bent himself to her pleasure. She strode over to him to seize it, unbuttoning the flap on her trousers. Today, she had chosen to wear the ones that came with her from Menzoberranzan, fitted with improvements that only a Drow matriarch’s mind could have invented. The flap was, of course, the most important; fitted so that one need not remove one’s leathers to use a playmate’s tongue.

Gale’s eyes widened, and Minthara smiled.

‘Ah,’ he gasped, and she growled in anticipation, keen to hear his supplication. ‘Step-matron –’

‘What?’ Her foot halted just as it left the floor.

‘I think if we’re going to do this, I might need a chair to rest my head on whilst you go at it. This portal doesn’t really give me enough back support, and though I’d love to pretend otherwise, I have to admit -’

Minthara’s stony silence broke suddenly. ‘I didn’t mean that, wizard. I meant, what under the wretched sun would induce you to call me step-Matron?’

‘Oh!’ Gale said breezily. ‘Well, you see that in these kinds of stories, whoever’s stuck in the portal is usually meant to call for a family member for help - a step-mother, perhaps. Gives you a bit of distance from the real thing. But I realised it would take more than a step to stop me thinking about the inimitable Morena Dekarios whenever my mother was mentioned, so -’

Screech. Minthara yanked the nearest chair beneath his head.

‘Thank you, that’s very – mmmffffff –’

At last, the wizard was silenced. Minthara growled in pleasure as she settled onto his face, though she wished he was clean-shaven.

‘Much better,’ she growled, trying to ignore the scratch of his stubble on her folds. It was almost impossible until the moment he put his tongue out, but then -

‘Oh!’ Minthara groaned. She had no god to praise for such pleasure, so as she ground herself into Gale’s tongue she found herself praising him instead. ‘Good.’

The tongue swirled, pressing firmly, and she was moved to even greater praise, her clitoris throbbing into his velvet heat. ‘Excellent – yes – yes – ’

– her hands found rough, tight hold in his hair –

‘Yes! Oh – yes – ’

It felt as if he were trying to speak, and she loved it. She was silencing him, putting his tongue to better use than it ever had been before, and she never wanted to get off. Just as she broke down into barks of pleasure, a hand came up and tapped her thigh frantically. Wretched spider-queen – she groaned and raised off his face an inch, scowling down at the man beneath her.

‘Sorry!’ Gale gasped breathlessly. ‘I was trying to communicate – ’

‘No more communicating, or I will shut you up again. Breathe and be done!’

‘Yes, step-Matron! Ah – mmm – I’m ready! Nnnf!’

She thrust back down, riding his mouth as confidently as if it were saddled. Heat spread from Gale’s insistent tongue, making her simmer, arousal building like geyser within her until –

‘Vith!’ she shouted, consumed with pleasure. It squirted from her, wave after wave. ‘Yes! Yes! – Yes!’

The world was as dark to her as her beloved Menzoberranzan, her eyes blank and her body raging with heat. After a few moments, she drew in a deep breath, and came to her senses, rising from Gale’s lips. His beard was dripping wet, and his eyes were so unfocused she almost feared she would have to apologise to Tav. But he was breathing, and in a few moments more he almost looked aware of his surroundings.

‘My apologies for almost smothering you,’ she said. I did not realise there was any difference between your attempt to communicate and your usual idle chatter.’

Far from being insulted, Gale looked up at her with a sparkle in his eyes.

‘Yes, I know I’m rather talkative,’ he gasped, fighting for the breath to speak. ‘But I think anyone sitting on this tongue would be hard pushed to deny the effects of its exercise.’

‘True,’ Minthara murmured. ‘Your skills are undeniable. If I had ridden your tongue in Menzoberranzan, I would have slit the throat of your previous owner to claim you as my own house-boy.’

‘Ahh!’’ Gale squirmed underneath her at the word.

‘Oh, you like being my house-boy, do you?’

‘I – do indeed, step-Matron!’

She smiled at him cruelly. ‘But I suppose if I am only a step-Matron, you must be content with your place as step-house-boy.’

Gale groaned slightly, but he nodded, and whispered – ‘Acceptable.’

With a grunt, she swung her leg over him and stood aside, considering the wizard’s heaving chest and rather dazed-looking expression.

‘Since this is the surface and not the Underdark, I suppose you expect me to pleasure you too.’

‘I find the act of cunnilingus pleasurable for its own sake,’ Gale murmured warmly. ‘Although… I have to admit I am a little excited. Perhaps I’ll just stay in this portal for a moment, if that’s -’

‘Turn back,’ Minthara commanded. Quite why she said it, she didn’t know; perhaps the almost sweet expression in the wizard’s brown eyes as he said it. Pleasurable for its own sake. She felt almost as much affection for him as for she did for her favourite childhood Cavvekan after it had ripped apart a bat. They bore a certain resemblance too, mouths slick with their latest meals.

‘Oh -’ Gale gasped, and hastily flipped the portal again, calling from within. ‘Ah - what are you going to do to me, step-Matron?’

Minthara stepped around to the legs side of the portal, and took a firm grasp of her step-house-boy’s cock; on the smaller side, but pleasingly hard. As it should be. He was the only man that Minthara had ever deigned to pull a chair up for, on top of the obviously intoxicating honour of her taste upon his tongue. It was only natural he should be aroused, and she had ideas to make him even more so.

‘You read my book,’ she said.

‘Yes?’ came the slightly quivering response.

‘And enjoyed it.’

‘Yes – ’

‘Then you know that if a house-boy did something as idiotic as getting stuck in a portal, his matron – step-Matron – would certainly punish him.’

Her hand ran up his hips, alighting at his belt.

‘Oh – Gods – that’s – oh – go on then –’ Gale’s voice was hoarse, rent through with ragged breaths, but he certainly sounded interested. ‘I caution you, I may not be able to stand very much of it –’

‘I have seen you weather far sterner blows in battle, wizard,’ Minthara told him, more kindly than intended. It was true, but why exactly she wanted to commend his prowess in fights at that moment she did not know - or feared that the answer was something far too soft to be welcome. Ironing all the warmth out of her tone, she continued with a brisk, ‘We will stop if it is too much.’

‘Right. Yes. Should I take my trousers off or –’

That induced an eyeroll. Comfortingly, for Minthara’s sense of self-worth. She moved straight to unbuckling his belt, undoing the buttons of his trousers with businesslike speed, and Gale’s tongue stopped entirely. His breath hitched and then sped faster, panting as she yanked his trousers down. Minthara’s lip curled a little at the amount of body hair beneath, but she had to concede it was not as ugly as Drow society often liked to joke. It was almost pet-like.

She doubled the belt in her hand.

‘Prepare yourself, wizard. Step-house-boy,’ she corrected.

‘Yes – step-Matron – ’

‘One!’

The belt slapped hard against Gale’s backside. A sharp red flush exploded like a Torchstalk over his skin.

‘Oh Gods!’ Gale gasped, after he was finished squawking. ‘That’s – a bit hard –’

Minthara sighed. ‘I see.’

For a moment, she was about to give up; to concede that this dalliance with a surface man, and a wizard no less, had been foolish to start with.

‘It’s not that I want to stop,’ he groaned. ‘Just – aghhh –’

Could the wizard hear her thoughts? Minthara frowned; but then she had an unexpected idea.

‘One of my softer sisters insisted that a man’s whimpers sounded more pleasant if the injury was touched. Stroked, even. Of course, she was murdered by another house at a rather young age, but perhaps she was onto something. What do you think, wizard? Would this make it more bearable?’

She reached for the bloom her blow had aroused, first petting and then squeezing it with a gentleness she would previously have reserved for a true lover. A woman.

Gale gasped, but the uneven tenor of his breaths slowly steadied; not a return to calm, but to fortitude and perhaps even excitement. A touch to his cock confirmed that.

‘Well?’ she asked.

‘Yes! I think - if you do that – I could almost certainly handle a few more. Worth a try, at least – ahhhhhh!’

‘Good,’ Minthara murmured, and then realised what she had said. Praise for the wizard again? She shook her head; but she kept her word. A second stroke of the belt meant another with her hand, feeling with pleasure and some wonder the heat beneath her fingers; the unexpected thrill of tenderness. How… unexpected.

‘We will do ten,’ she remarked. ‘That was two. Prepare for –’

‘Three!’ Gale gasped, as the belt slapped harshly against his skin. ‘Gods above – step-Matron –’

‘Yes?’ Minthara murmured.

‘Please – more!’

She smiled in satisfaction, and raised the belt again.

‘Four! – Five! – Six! – Seven!’ With each number, Gale panted faster, his voice breaking and filling with what Minthara was sure were tears. Hells, her blood ran hot; she felt sure she could come again, seeing Gale flinch and tremble beneath her blows - and feeling his soft skin beneath her palm as he tentatively relaxed. She did wish she had her strap-on.

‘Oh, Gale,’ she murmured. ‘You are a good step-house-boy. So fragile, and yet you bear your punishment so well.’

‘Thank you, step-Matron Minthara,’ Gale gasped, polite as ever despite his trembling.

‘To ten?’ she asked.

Gale groaned softly as he acquiesced. ‘To ten.’

Eight came with a gasp; nine a cry that made Minthara’s clitoris pulse with furious need, a lust so wild that if she was back in Menzoberranzan she would have thrown the belt aside and seen roughly to herself, caring not one drop for whatever her house-boy was waiting for. But with Gale before her, she felt oddly compelled to think of his pleasure, to give him every touch and every blow that had been promised. She would finish.

‘Ten,’ she announced, and brought the belt down with one last, ruthless crack. Gale cried out, a sharp sob that died into whimpers. No sooner had the leather belt rebounded from his pleasingly firm backside than she threw it down, for him this time, and set to massaging the last sting into his tender skin.

Gale shook beneath her as she did it; he shook even harder as she reached around to stroke his cock. A few firm strokes, and the shaking was no more; he cried out, tensed, and bucked into her grip, his cock twitching in her fingers as it spurted. Minthara pressed close against his thrashed backside and thrust the same hand between her legs, driving herself to a second, blissful completion, shot through with the thrill of cruel punishment and the sounds of her newest playmate’s pleasure.

With a gasp, she let the release ebb through her, slumping against Gale’s body as if he were a piece of furniture.

‘Did you finish?’ he panted. ‘Again?’

‘Yes,’ she rasped back. A peculiar sensation throbbed in her breast momentarily. Affection. She brushed against her hot, spent clitoris, wondering at it.

After a moment, Gale cleared his throat.

‘Ah – I think I may need your help to get out.’

Minthara sighed, and did up her trousers.

‘You were not jesting about being stuck.’

‘Unfortunately not,’ Gale gasped, cheerful but obviously exhausted. ‘If you could just – ahhhhh!’

She found herself in a highly undignified pile of limbs; a former House Matron and a half-clothed wizard. How low she had fallen… and how little she presently seemed to mind. Picking herself up, she brushed off her leather armour and offered a brisk hand to Gale, sighing when he fiddled with his trouser buttons instead of immediately accepting the offer. But accept he did, and in a moment Minthara found herself face-to-face with him, looking up into his approximately-tolerable unshaven face and warm, houndlike eyes.

‘I underestimated you,’ she admitted.

Gale smiled, rolling out his back with a slight groan.

‘I underestimated you too. I thought that, were I ever lucky enough to be in your bed, the experience would be… very enjoyable. I never thought it would be quite that plane-shattering.’

‘Hmm,’ Minthara murmured, a pleased smile playing on her lips. ‘I recommend a hot bath, if there is any lingering discomfort in your back. And I expect to find you trapped in a portal again, as soon as is convenient.’