Jay Friday
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Dungeon Mistress
🕑 Added 2025-01-10 21:10:31 +0000 UTCAuthor's Note: I'd welcome feedback, positive or negative on this one -- drop a comment or a DM. This is a bit longer than my usual fare and not as specifically premature-ejaculation focused, but I think it hits a lot of the same notes. Let me know what you think of the pacing, style, premise, etc.
Thanks for reading.
---
Mike’s new place was awesome, and his combination housewarming/holiday party was buzzing with friends and conversation. I looked around the place, thinking fondly about how grown up we all were now: this was a housewarming party. Because now he owned a house. A pretty far cry from gathering in his parent's basement to play Halo on that shitty couch until 4AM.
Mike spotted me, came over, and half-steered, half-dragged me over to a young woman who was standing near his fireplace, by herself, sipping on wine as she looked at the fire.
“Chris, Monica wanted to meet you. She’s the one I’ve been telling you about. I met her through that board game club I’ve been going to, but she’s been running the usual D&D game for us since you had to stop. It’s been super fun.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but his doorbell rang. “Ah, shit. I’ve gotta get that. Monica, this is Chris, who used to run games for us during high school and college. Chris, this is Monica, the new DM! You guys can compare notes!”
Introductions made, Mike left us to answer the door.
I looked at Monica. She was in her late twenties or early thirties, maybe; a bit younger than me. Shorter than me, and she gave off a distinct goth vibe. Long, jet black hair. Full dark eyes, cat eye makeup that made them look even larger. Pale skin. A dark lipstick – a deep crimson, almost maroon. She was wearing a black sweater dress that clung to a curvaceous, shapely body.
Damn. She was hot. I wondered if Mike had introduced us because she was single. It was possible – he wasn’t much of a matchmaker, but maybe. I kind of hoped so.
Monica arched an eyebrow. “Hi there, Chris.”
I flushed. She must’ve seen me staring. I pulled my eyes back up to her face. “Hi, Monica. It’s nice to meet you. So you’re the Dungeon Master that Mike's been raving about, huh?”
Monica gave me a wry smile. “I prefer Dungeon Mistress. But yeah, that’s me.” Dark lips sipped from her wine glass.
I laughed at the joke. “Very cool. I’ve been running games off and on for Mike, Liz, and Erin for years. Just been busy lately.” I beamed at her.
My friends had raved about her DMing abilities. Said she ran an awesome campaign. Tough, but fair, super interesting, great combat encounters, memorable NPCs.
She even apparently dressed up as the characters sometimes. The idea of her in cosplay, I had to admit, was especially intriguing, based on what she looked like in this sweater dress. I tried not to let my imagination wander.
She had let the silence stretch, but eventually spoke. “Yeah, they talk about your old campaigns sometimes. Sounds like you run a fun game.” Her smile was friendly enough, I thought. But a little…aloof. Distant. A challenging edge to it? A little unimpressed, maybe? Hard to say.
She held my gaze. “I’ve actually been thinking that it might be nice to add one more for the campaign. They were all talking about how it’d be fun for you to play in a game instead of running one. If you’re interested and have a little more time in the new year, that is. I know not every DM likes to be a player, though; you might not like my game. I mean, I don’t really like to play in other people’s games; I like to be in control too much. So I get it if you don’t…”
But I didn’t need the easy excuse she was offering. “I would love to. I don’t have the time to run anything but I’ve been dying to get back to playing D&D. It’ll be nice to have someone else do the hard work – and nice to play in the game they’re all raving about!”
She gave me a small smile. “Great. Give me your email and phone number, so I can send you the backstory stuff and some character generation info. That way you can show up and we can get you right in the middle of the action…”
---
The backstory she sent along packed a lot into a relatively brief document. I was impressed. It was a classic, high-fantasy world; a lot of political intrigue. The party had been on a trip to the court of the Night Queen, ostensibly as emissaries, but with the real mission of stealing an important artifact from her treasure room. Unfortunately, their purpose had been discovered at the end of last session, and they’d all been thrown into the Night Queen’s dungeon.
Monica’s email gave me a clear new character prompt:
You’ll be playing a fellow prisoner, someone who was already there when the party was captured. You’re a servant of the Night Queen who has fallen out of favor for refusing to undertake an important mission because it violated your morals. She left you to rot in this prison a few weeks ago, and it has soured you against her; the party seems like they could be valuable allies, your ticket out of here. And helping them is sure to piss the Night Queen off. You’ve been working on an escape plan, but you know you’re about to be brought in for another interrogation session. That’s where this game session will start.
I made a character within the parameters she laid out. I texted Mike and it sounded like the group was missing a frontline fighter-type, and someone who was a smooth talker, so a paladin was the natural choice.
I settled on the name Cedwin, and emailed her the completed character sheet along with some notes about his appearance and backstory. She replied almost immediately:
Awesome choices, great character. Here’s the details of the plan you’ve been working on. If you can get through the interrogation without giving anything anyway, the party ought to be able to help you escape.
The broad strokes of the plan were pretty straightforward; I had, over the weeks of imprisonment in the Night Queen’s dungeons, gotten the sympathy of a guard, who would be willing to help me escape. The only reason I hadn’t escaped yet was because I couldn’t overpower the half-dozen other guards by myself...but the arrival of the adventurers shifted the odds; if we all worked together, we could escape. And then plot our revenge on the Night Queen.
It was a good premise for having my character join the group. I was looking forward to game night.
---
Game night rolled around a few weeks later. It was at Monica’s place; a Friday night. I pulled up the email, plugged her address in on my phone, and showed up a few minutes early.
She opened the door. “Hi, Chris. Come on in.”
I didn’t immediately respond. She was wearing – well, I didn’t know which character she was done up as, but it was clearly fantasy makeup. Her eye makeup and lipstick were an azure blue, with pale gold highlights that only made it all the more striking. Her dark hair was done in some complicated braids, and pointy elf ears peeked out.
Her outfit was…well, a cloak of deep midnight. There was a clasp at her neck – silver, a stylized full moon – and the cloak was hooded, and draped completely across her shoulders and down her front. It covered her head to toe.
I realized that I was staring, openmouthed. She looked like…well, some kind of fantasy elf priestess. “H-hi, Monica! Great outfit!”
She gave me a cheeky grin. “You're the first here. The Night Queen welcomes you to her court, Cedwin. What’ll you have to drink?” She ushered me inside.
---
My friends arrived shortly after I did. Liz was next, showing up five minutes later, just as I took the first sip of an excellent bourbon Monica had poured.
For years, I had been surprised when other guys told me Liz was hot, or asked me if I thought she’d go out with them. To me, Liz was always the nerdy, slightly bookish girl who lived next door. The one who beat all the optional bosses in Final Fantasy 7 before I did, who got excited when I loaned her Game of Thrones, and loaned me Wheel of Time in return.
But even I could admit that in-her-30s Liz was pretty hot. Nerdy glasses and an obsession with fantasy and sci-fi novels had matured into a hot-librarian aesthetic to accompany her professional-librarian job. Fashionable glasses framed big brown eyes. Long brown tresses spilled down around the glasses. She was dressed in a blouse and skirt.
“Hi Chris! Oh my god, you’re going to get to actually play for a change!” She gave me a warm hug. She eyed Monica’s get-up. “Wow, you pulled out all the stops this week, huh? Damn. Sorry, I came from work…I’ll bring my Lucia get-up again next session, though.”
“Yeah, I wanted to make sure I set the right tone for the campaign for Chris,” Monica said, her eyes twinkling. “I told you guys, dressing up is optional for you all though. No pressure.”
“Well, in spite of my attire, Lucia the rogue is here and ready to make some mischief!” Liz rubbed her hands together, sitting down next to me. “Lucia the rogue also needs her gin and tonic, please.”
“Difficult to make mischief from inside a prison cell, Lucia.” Monica smiled and began making a drink.
---
Erin was late. But Erin was always late.
“Chris! Eeeeee! You’re really here!” she shrieked when she saw me sitting at the table, character sheet in front of me. She ran over and gave me a hug.
In contrast to Liz, nobody – least of all me – was surprised when Erin got described as hot. Tall, with long red hair and green eyes, and pale freckled skin, she had classic Irish good looks and a body to match. She had run for class president in high school and won, been president of her sorority in college, and now ran sales or marketing at some giant company.
She wasn’t much of a nerd. It had always been astonishing to me that she’d kept wanting to play D&D with us over the years, but she insisted.
Even more astonishing: she was dressed up tonight. She had on elf ears, a brown robe open in the front, and matching leather armbands and a laced leather bodice. A staff completed the outfit.
She obviously noticed my stare. “Like the outfit? Monica helped me with the ears! My character is Enna, an elvish druid. I’ve got lots of healing spells!”
I smiled. “You look great, Erin.”
If I was honest, I felt a little jealous – she had never dressed up as a character during any of my campaigns. I certainly wasn’t immune to her charms and would've loved to see her wearing this sort of thing more regularly.
I had taken my shot with Erin long ago, during high school. And then in college. And then again right after college. But she had always been more interested in swimmers, football players, and fraternity presidents than the data scientist who ran her weekly D&D session. For a long time I had taken it personally, but as we’d both gotten older – and I’d finally had a few girlfriends – that had mellowed into an easier friendship.
Even if I'd still go for it, I acknowledged to myself, eyeing her cleavage in the laced leather of that bodice.
“Enna will take her martini extra dirty tonight, please,” Erin said. She didn’t say it suggestively at all, but Liz snorted anyway.
Monica just put a sly smile on. “That befits tonight, as our game begins in dirty prison cells. Give me three minutes to make that, and then we can started.”
Liz looked surprised. “...But Mike isn’t here yet!”
Monica still had the same smile. “Well, you remember how the battle with the Night Queen’s guards left Meldrin grievously injured? His character isn’t exactly conscious, right now. More on that in a moment. I told him he could skip this session since he's out cold; we’ll get him back in the game when you all get Meldrin some healing.”
I blinked, disappointed. I had been looking forward to playing with him. Just having him not show up seemed extreme. But Erin and Liz nodded, as if it made sense; maybe this was how Monica ran things. So I nodded along, and took another sip of bourbon.
---
“It has been two full days since the Night Queen threw you all in her dungeon. You have not been mistreated, but you can tell that staying here for too long is a bad idea.”
Monica’s voice was low, intense. She’d lowered the lights in the room a bit before she’d started talking.
“The thin slit-like openings that pass for windows into these dismal cells are paned with some translucent, quartz-like material. During the day, it lets scant amounts of lights through…but at night, it does something to the moonlight. Something maddening. You can feel it creeping about the edges of your consciousness, like foxes prowling around a henhouse. Wanting to get in. And from the howls and incoherent gibbering coming from the cells down the hall, it's all too easy to imagine what being here long-term will do to your sanity.”
I had to hand it to her, she did a good job setting the scene. All three of us were quiet, listening.
“Enna can tell that this is having an especially negative effect on Meldrin, your wizardly companion. He has been unconscious since the battle – two guards dumped him into the cell with you two. Something is wrong with his mind. And it’s only getting more wrong, the longer you stay here. He periodically moans or mumbles something in his sleep, but is otherwise completely still.”
Erin frowned. “Can I use one of my spells to heal him? I’ve got a few that…”
But Monica was already shaking her head. “Enna’s connection to nature feels far from her, in this moment. The forests of her home feel so distant; night reigns here, and the moonlight coming in through these windows is not the soft light that plays on dappled meadows, it’s silvery and alien. Perhaps if you get out of the dungeon, you can help him.”
Monica paused, letting that sink in.
“The only other thing of note is the cellmate across the corridor.” A smile played across her lips. “He hasn’t said anything to you yet, but he’s been watching you since you arrived. Chris, want to introduce Cedwin?”
Both Liz and Erin turned to look at me.
“Sure…Cedwin’s, uh, a half-elf…he’s looking a bit the worse for wear…he, uh, has brown eyes…” I struggled to decide what to share. I suddenly felt awkward, on-the-spot.
Monica cut in, smoothly. “The half-elf in the cell across the way is tall, lean. Stripped of his armor and armaments, his chest is bare; he has the sinewed muscles of one accustomed to battle. His face…” she glanced down at some notes behind her screen. “...though perhaps usually clean shaven, has a week or two worth of stubble growing into a beard, likely from being confined down here. He’s got a tattoo of a tower – The Tower – on the forearm of his shield arm. His dark eyes are intense. And he’s been staring at you two – and your companion, Meldrin – since you arrived. ”
I blinked at Monica. Her description of my character was…accurate, in the details, but…well, she made him sound a lot more attractive than I would’ve. She just gave me a smile. “I did read your character description. It was good.”
“Tour character sounds like a hottie,” Erin giggled.
Liz nodded. “Yeah. A capable hottie. With that description, Lucia’s been sizing him up since we arrived also. He might be useful. Lucia waits for a moment when the guards are scarce, and then…”
Liz’s voice shifted slightly lower, huskier. “Hey handsome – yeah, you, in the cell. You want out of here, right? We do too, so stop eyefucking us and let’s work together. Any ideas?”
Erin leaned over to me and whispered, “I love Liz’s Lucia-voice.”
I opened my mouth to have Cedwin reply to Lucia, but Monica cut in again. “The half-elf is clearly about to respond, when you all hear the clatter of boots coming down the hall, and he lapses into silence. Two of the Moonguard come in – you recognize them from the fight earlier, the Night Queen’s personal guards. They open your cell, Cedwin, and muscle you out and up the stairs. The Queen wants a word, one of them sneers at you.”
Then Monica stood up. “We’ll do this next scene in the other room, since it’s just Cedwin. Back to Enna and Lucia in a few!”
Uncertainly, I stood up to follow Monica. Erin gave me a little cheery wave. Liz opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then closed it. I couldn’t read her expression.
I had never done anything like this when I was DM. Being a player – not being in charge of the game – was weird, I reflected, as I followed Monica.
---
The other room, it turned out, was just Monica’s bedroom. The light was dim – just a single lamp on her bedside table.
“Sorry about the lack of seating. This is just a quick scene anyway. I thought it'd be fun to leave them guessing at what’s happening.” She patted the edge of the bed next to her. I sat, bemused.
“The guards unceremoniously usher you up the stairs, through the throne room and into a room that is familiar to you – the Night Queen’s private chambers. Of course, you’ve mostly been there under more auspicious circumstances. This is likely to be an interrogation. You’ve seen many men go into this room and come out broken. Not necessarily in body – but certainly in spirit. Their minds belong to her.”
She stopped, letting that sink in. “Anything I know to prepare myself for?” I asked.
She cocked her head. “You’ve never been present during one of her interrogations, but you’re aware that it isn’t likely to be physical torture. That’s not really her style.”
I nodded, thoughtful.
“You only have a moment to think about it, though, before you’re hustled into her private audience chamber and dumped at the feet of the Queen herself.”
Monica sat a little straighter, drawing the cloak about her. Her eyes grew…colder, somehow. Imperious. When her voice came out, it was commanding, now. Commanding and amused. “Cedwin. My most disappointing servant.”
“I, uh, pull myself to my feet slowly, trying to gather my dignity,” I said.
Monica nodded. “You can feel her eyes roving over your body, your bare chest, as you stand.” Her voice went amused, again. “Still sane, I see, in spite of your stay in the Lunar Prison.”
“For now…your majesty.” I said the words begrudgingly, trying to get into character.
Monica’s eyes sparkled. “Ah, Cedwin. Where did we go wrong? I thought you were a loyal, devoted servant…that a few weeks in the dungeons might make you appropriately remorseful for your failings…but now I hear whispers that you’re planning an escape. That just won’t do…”
As she spoke, Monica pushed the cloak back from around her shoulders.
Underneath the cloak, she was wearing a black corset. It was strapless, leaving her shoulders bare and exposed. It pushed her pale, full breasts up and together into a full shelf, creating deep cleavage.
I was completely off-balance, staring at her tits. “I, uh…” Fuck. She was hot.
“The Night Queen leans forward and strokes her hand down Cedwin’s bare chest.” As she spoke, Monica stroked her fingers down my chest. I was wearing a t-shirt, but I could still feel her fingers, sensual, tracing my chest through the fabric.
I could feel my cock getting harder by the second.
“I’ve seen the way you look at me, Cedwin.” Monica’s impression of the Night Queen was suggestive, now. “If you serve me well, you could receive many…rewards.”
My mouth was dry. I swallowed, trying to get it together. Sure, she was hot, but it was just a corset. Erin was wearing something similar. This was just roleplaying in costumes. “Your majesty…after what you've asked me to do, I could never serve you again.” It came out a little weakly, but at least I said something instead of just ogling her big tits.
“Cedwin, Cedwin. You are a strong-willed man. But you must know that even you cannot resist me for long.” Monica leaned in close, whispering the next words in my ear. “Eventually I will break you. Make you mine. Your desire for the pleasures of the night will be too great. You will not just call me Queen again. You will call me Mistress.”
I was rock hard by the time she pulled her mouth away from my ear. I couldn’t take my eyes off her tits.
Monica glanced down at my pants and smiled. “Even now, your body betrays you,” she said, in her amused Night Queen voice.
I blushed, hard. Shit. Monica could tell. I didn’t know what to say. Or think. I had never run a game like this. Never even heard of a game like this. Mistress? Fuck.
“Cedwin, I am returning you to your cell, now. But consider my offer. Rejoin my service and be rewarded.”
Monica shifted back to her normal speaking voice. I watched with a strange mix of disappointment and relief as she adjusted the full cloak to be covering herself once more. “Okay, so the same Moonguards drag you back to your cell. Anything you want to ask about or do before we rejoin the others?”
I opened my mouth. I didn’t know what to say. Tell her to stop? Stop what, though? Apologize for getting hard? She'd seemed to like it, if anything.
Monica was watching me, expectant, maybe a little curious. For all appearances, just a DM waiting to see if her player had a question.
I just shook my head, and she stood up. I followed her back out to the others, trying to adjust myself to make my erection less prominent.
---
I must’ve had an odd expression on my face. When I sat down in between Liz and Erin, Liz leaned over, and softly said, “Everything ok?”
I forced a smile. “Just, uh, weird to be a player in someone else’s game.”
Liz nodded, satisfied.
“Okay, so the guards bring Cedwin back a few moments later. He looks none the worse for wear, that lean body still unmarred, although those dark, intense eyes look a bit haunted, perhaps, now.” Monica paused for a moment. “Actually, the two of you can give me a Perception check.”
They both rolled. Enna had a terrible Perception modifier. “Six,” Erin reported, crestfallen.
But Lucia was good at spotting small details. “Twenty-three,” Liz said.
“That tattoo on his arm – the one of the Tower – it looks a bit fainter than it did before, you think. Faded.”
Liz and Erin looked at me, curious. I tried to play it off. “Hey, don’t look at me, I only learned what the Tower is, like, a week ago.”
Liz shrugged and started asking questions about the cell bars, the locks, that sort of thing. But I thought I knew what the significance of the tattoo was.
Paladins like Cedwin needed to pick a god to worship. Looking through the backstory document, the gods for the setting were different than I expected. Instead of a typical pantheon of deities, there were five Doctrines, which represented the foundational forces of the universe.
I had picked The Tower. It represented order and discipline, the lighthouse pointing the way to civilization amidst the wilds of the crashing ocean, man’s knowledge, triumph and resistance over the chaos of the natural world.
That tattoo was a physical representation of my character’s principles – and Monica was saying they had been eroded by that encounter. Because I’d gotten hard? My face heated a little at the thought. That didn't seem fair.
“Hey, handsome in the other cell.” It was Liz, using her husky Lucia voice. “Any thoughts on how we might get out of here?”
It snapped my attention back to the game. I glanced over at Liz, who was grinning at me. The banter was a little different, but this at least felt familiar. Just me and my childhood friend, roleplaying. I grinned back, feeling more like myself.
“I’ve got a name, you know.” I tried for a baritone, full of weariness. “Cedwin.” I glanced left and right, as if ensuring the guards were distant. “And yes, I’ve got some thoughts.”
“Do tell,” Liz purred.
“One of the guards is a friend; if we can–”
Monica jumped in. “But before Cedwin can speak further, a guard strolls down the hall, making his rounds. You clam up so he doesn't hear you. He pauses in front of Lucia and Enna’s cell. Even through his helmet, you can see that he’s clearly looking the two of you over.”
Erin leaned forward. “He’s an elf, right? Can I flirt with him? See if he’ll help us?”
Monica nodded. “Sure. How do you do it?”
Erin giggled, a smile playing across her pretty face. “The usual tricks, you know? I undo the laces of my bodice a little…” as she spoke, she toyed with the ties at her décolletage. God. The number of times I’d thought about those tits…as we all watched, she loosened her top and pulled it down a little. It didn’t expose much more, but the sight of her undoing her top, showing off her freckled breasts, was enough that my erection – which had just started to flag – returned in full force.
“And then I lean forward against the bars…” as she spoke, Erin leaned forward towards Monica, and in a voice pitched a bit higher and a little ditzier than usual, said, “Sorry, but it’s so cold in our cell…do you have a spare cloak or something? Or something else you could do to help warm me up?”
I had never heard Erin talk like that, voice full of suggestion. I got harder. I tried not to obviously stare at Erin's chest. I was ready to help keep Enna warm.
Monica just nodded, though. “Go ahead and roll Persuasion. You can roll with advantage – he’s an elf, you’re a hot elf, it seems convincing.”
Erin made the roll, but groaned. “Ugh. A nine. And that’s with the advantage. Just not my night,” she complained.
“The guard stares at you. Through the visor of the helmet, you can’t make out his expression, and for a moment, you think your wiles might have distracted him…” Monica leaned forward, and so did Erin, expectant.
“But then he reaches through the bars and grabs you, pulling you even closer.” Monica hissed out the words, and as she spoke, she suddenly reached across the table, hooking two fingers into the laces of Erin’s bodice, and gently, but firmly, pulling her even closer.
Her voice shifted an octave lower, into a low hiss. “You harlot. I am pledged to my Queen, and no one else. You will rot in this cell with nothing and no one to warm you.”
Erin let out a little shriek at Monica’s sudden movement, that turned into a delighted giggle after a moment. “Well, it was worth a try,” she said, ruefully.
I watched as she retightened the laces on her bodice. Erin’s scream, Monica grabbing her, the scene earlier with the Night Queen…this was all so sexy. It had never occurred to me that a D&D game could be like this. Had I just been running a boring campaign all this time?
“And then the guard turns and starts unlocking Cedwin’s cell,” Monica continued. Her voice shifted to that low hiss of the guardsman’s voice again. “More interrogation for you, traitor.”
She stood up. “Back into the other room,” she said, cheerfully.
Before I stood, I surreptitiously adjusted myself. And then I followed her.
“Stay strong, handsome,” Liz called out in her husky Lucia voice. “Don’t let her break you.”
---
“Like before, you’re escorted straight to the Night Queen’s private audience chamber,” Monica said. We were sitting on the edge of her bed again.
I nodded, trying to get into the spirit of the game in spite of feeling discombobulated by how it was going. “This time, Cedwin keeps an eye out for any opportunities to make an escape as he’s escorted. Maybe a chance to steal a guard’s weapon, that sort of thing? If I come back this way again, I want to be ready for it.”
“You don’t see anything specific – the guards are armed, obviously, so there are weapons available to try to take. But they’re well-trained. They know what Cedwin is capable of and are treating you like a real threat. But it’s definitely the same routine as the first time. If you are brought this way again, you’d be able to make an escape attempt at a good moment – when they’re occupied opening a door, or forced to walk through a narrow entryway, that sort of thing. I’ll give you a bonus if you want to try that next time. For now…”
She paused, shifting personas. She undid her cloak, revealing the corset. Her expression turned imperious, eyes icy, the blue and gold makeup on her face stark. “Cedwin, I hear you’re making friends with your cellmates. How cute.”
My gaze was drawn to that deep, pale cleavage again. Monica’s tits were enormous. I felt my cock stiffen again as I stared.
She was still talking in that commanding voice she used for the Night Queen. “The elven druid was quite fair, as I recall. You’d like to bed her, I imagine. If you’ll return to my service, I would give her to you, Cedwin.” Her voice was suggestive, full of promise.
I felt a little confused. Was she making an observation that Cedwin would like to bed Enna? Or implying that I wanted to bed Erin? I tried to get my wits back about me, get back in character.
“I shall never serve you again,” I gritted the words out.
“Proud words, Cedwin. But your body tells a different tale.” Monica glanced down. Mortified, I realized that not only was my erection very obviously tenting my pants again – but I had started leaking precum. There was now a dark spot on my jeans.
“The Tower,” Monica said, still using her Night Queen voice, but amused and condescending, now. “It is supposed to stand for discipline. Strength. Resistance in the face of our baser natures.” Her eyes pulled from my cock, to my face. “But when I look at you, I see a man almost overcome by need, Cedwin.”
She paused. My face had gone bright red with embarrassment. The silence stretched between us.
And then she whispered, in a seductive voice, “If you pledged yourself to me again…”
She kept eye contact with me, and slowly and deliberately, with one hand, leaned forward and unzipped my jeans. My cock twitched in anticipation.
“...the pleasures would be immense.”
But my anticipation turned to disappointment and confusion as she pulled her hand away. My cock was painfully hard, and I had been hoping she’d…touch me.
“You must start by demonstrating your devotion to me yourself, Cedwin. Before I can offer you anything.” She glanced meaningfully down at my pants.
I was dazed with arousal. Slowly – hoping I wasn’t misinterpreting – I reached down, and pulled out my cock. I was dripping with precum now, and I started slowly stroking myself.
“Good, yes,” Monica crooned, still using the Night Queen’s voice. The pleasure in her voice sent another surge to my cock.
Her fingertips traced along the full curve of one breast, and then the other, before dipping down into her cleavage. I watched her hand, transfixed.
“That’s it, show me what a devoted servant you are, Cedwin,” she whispered. She was staring down at my cock. It was still the voice Monica used for the Night Queen, I thought. But she sounded aroused.
I didn’t know what that meant, if Cedwin should respond in character, but it didn't matter to me anymore. How wanton she sounded, watching me jerk off, was so hot. My cock was covered in precum and throbbing in my hand.
She continued, still sounding turned on. “I want you to befriend them. Help them escape. If you do…if you act as my eyes and ears in their little group…you’ll be rewarded.” Her hands drifted to her breasts, now, squeezing those big tits through the corset. I watched as they threatened to overflow and escape.
I just nodded. I was pumping faster now, staring as she caressed her big tits. The line between being in character with Cedwin, and me, just jerking off for Monica, was completely gone. But it didn't matter to me, now. If Cedwin giving in was going to let this keep happening, Cedwin was going to give in.
I was also getting close to cumming, I realized. Monica was…well, a lot hotter than any woman I’d ever dated, hands down. Nobody I’d ever gone out with had tits like these. Nothing in my life had prepared me for this. Hell, I had never jerked off in front of anyone before, and the way she’d encouraged me, was teasing me…I was breathing shallowly, jerking off frantically. It wouldn’t be long now.
And then, a sly smile on her face, Monica whispered, “But I must send you back to the cells for now. Befriend them. Plot your escape with them. I shall see you once more, before you leave. To recommit you to my service.”
She pulled the cloak back over her body. I slowed, then stopped stroking in confusion, uncertainly. I...wasn’t going to get to finish now?
Monica’s voice made an abrupt change to a much more normal cadence of speech. “Okay, so she sends you back to the prison cells. Anything you want to do or look out for while the guards escort Cedwin back?”
“I, uh–” I had conversational whiplash. “Monica, what…I don’t–”
She cut in, giving me a condescending smile as I stammered. “Okay, if you think of anything, we can talk about it, but otherwise it sounds like Cedwin just heads back, huh?” She stood up. I stood up too, uncertainly.
Firmly, she put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down. “Give me like, three or five minutes to cover what’s happening with Enna and Lucia while you’ve been being interrogated; one of us will come grab you when they’re caught up.”
She left, closing the door behind her.
---
I spent a long few minutes processing what had just happened.
I was hopelessly aroused and confused. I didn’t know what to do. Should I finish jerking off? It wouldn’t take long…but I was also in a woman’s bedroom I barely knew, and one of my friends might open that door any minute.
I was suddenly deeply embarrassed by how out of control I was. Yeah, Monica was hot. But a little seductive roleplaying, a sexy costume, and some big tits, and I’d been drooling over her like some stereotypical horny nerd. In the moment, it had been hot. When I reviewed the way I had just been jerking off for her, I felt kind of…pathetic.
That wasn’t who I was. I needed to get my act together. I realized my cock was still out. Still hard, though softening.. Firmly, I stuffed my cock back in my pants, adjusting so my flagging erection was at least somewhat less visible.
And not a moment too soon – seconds later, Liz opened the door. “Hey, thanks for waiting, you can…” she trailed off, looking at me in concern. “Hey, for real, are you okay? I feel like you’ve been a little off tonight, and you look flushed.”
“Yeah, uh…I’m fine.” I smiled at her. “Maybe coming down with something, I dunno. And I still feel like I'm...y'know, finding my footing. But this is super fun.”
I tried to shake off the arousal, confusion, and shame I was feeling. I stood up, and followed Liz back out to the table.
---
“Alright, handsome, lay out this plan of yours,” Liz said, in Lucia’s husky whisper.
Erin giggled. “That’s not all we want him to lay out!” she quipped, in Enna’s ditzy tones.
I laughed along with her. My friends on either side of me, I was feeling a little more like myself again.
“Cedwin is a paladin of the Tower and isn’t laying out anything for anyone. Besides, he watched you hit on that guard earlier, too. Enna doesn’t exactly seem to have discriminating taste.” Most of the games I ran weren’t full of flirty banter, but this, I could handle.
“That was just to try to escape, Cedwin’s different. Enna would be very happy to climb that tower, if you catch my drift,” she said, giggling.
I was a little surprised. Maybe just the dirty martini she'd been drinking, but that was more...forward, than Erin usually was, with me. Maybe the ambiance Monica was creating? Well, I wasn't going to complain. Even just joking about our characters this way was fun.
Monica just smiled, cryptically. “Speaking of the Tower, Lucia – you can’t help but notice that Cedwin’s forearm tattoo is a lot fainter than the last time the guards dropped him off. Nearly gone, really.”
“Cedwin might not last through another interrogation session, huh?” Liz said it slowly, glancing at me curiously.
I flushed a little red, thinking about how I almost hadn't lasted through that one. But I tried to move past it. “Okay, here’s the plan, ladies. Try to keep up…”
Using Cedwin’s weary baritone, I outlined the plan. We discussed it in character for a little while; they added their own embellishments, as Lucia pointed out that we had to carry Meldrin out with us, further complicating things. But we had just about solidified a plan to escape when Monica cut in.
“You all hear a guard coming down the corridor, likely to take Cedwin away for an interrogation again.”
“Just get through this interrogation session and we’ll escape, Cedwin,” Erin urged in Enna’s voice, whispering enthusiastically. “We’ll be celebrating before the day’s done!”
But Liz, in Lucia’s voice, was more concerned. “Remember your principles, paladin.”
And with that, Cedwin was carted off to the dungeon – and I followed Monica to her bedroom again.
---
We both sat down on the bed. “Anything Cedwin wants to do as he’s escorted back? Got an escape attempt in mind?” She just looked curious.
“Monica, I—” I ran a hand through my hair. “I’m not sure that...last scene…”
She raised one quizzical eyebrow.
“...felt…right,” I finished.
I was floundering. It was lame, weak. But what was I going to say, I didn’t like how you had me jerking off over your tits like some horny nerd?
She looked taken aback. “You mean, like…you don’t think that’s how the scene should’ve played out?”
I grasped at that conversational lifeline. Close enough. “Uh, yeah.”
She raised the eyebrow again. “So you’re saying you wanted Cedwin to resist the Night Queen?”
I paused for a second. That wasn’t exactly what I meant…but maybe it sort of was? I nodded.
She cocked her head. “So…why didn’t you have him resist, then? You roleplayed him as giving in…”
I was silent, embarrassed.
She smirked. “Oh, I get it. You think Cedwin, paladin of the Tower, would resist longer, have more willpower, more stamina to his resistance, than…” she paused, and her voice went condescending. “...Chris.”
I reddened with anger. “What? N-no, I’ve got plenty of—”
She shrugged, dismissive. “Great. So there’s no problem, then. Resist, if that's what you think he'd do. Let’s just play out the last interrogation scene. The guards usher you into her private audience chamber, but then close the doors behind you. It appears this session with the Night Queen, it’ll just be you and her. Could be a good opportunity to escape or try something.”
“Fine.” I was brimming with self-righteous indignation at the dig at my stamina.
Cedwin, I decided, definitely wasn’t going along with the Night Queen’s plan. Maybe I could overpower her, or...
And then Monica threw back her cloak.
I was prepared for that corset.
She was completely naked underneath except for a pair of panties, the same midnight blue as the cloak.
In the background of my mind, I wondered when she had removed the corset – at some point when she’d asked me to wait in the bedroom, maybe?
But I didn’t really care.
Her skin was flawless ivory, stark against the blue of the cloak. Her tits were huge -- it was remarkable that the corset had ever been able to contain them. They were full, soft and round, a bit of natural sag under their own weight. Her nipples were pale pink, proportional.
Her stomach and waist were soft, but trim – not lean, just smooth, pale skin.
“Good, they trust you. They’ll escape with you…you’ll travel with them, report to me,” she said the words confidently, in her Night Queen voice. Lazily, Monica caressed one of her breasts, fondling it with one hand, tweaking her own nipple between thumb and forefinger.
My erection was straining against my pants, now, as I stared. “No, I-I won’t.” I tried to summon the anger, the indignation I had felt just a moment ago. It was difficult, watching as she caressed her full breasts.
“Oh, Cedwin. It’s far too late for that,” she purred. As she spoke, Monica stood off the bed, then knelt in front of me.
“I saw you staring at my body as you demonstrated your devotion earlier,” she whispered, staring up at me.
The makeup around her eyes – pale gold and azure – practically glowed in the dim light of her bedroom. “In your mind, you’ve already done this, given yourself to me, betrayed those two – and their unconscious friend. What does it matter to devote yourself to me in body, when you've already devoted yourself in your mind?”
And then she reached up, unbuckling my belt and pulling my pants and boxers to the ground.
“I…I won’t…” I stammered the words out, halfheartedly. But I wasn’t even using Cedwin’s voice. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears. I had leaked even more precum.
She was doing it again, I realized, helplessly. I was turned on, out of control. I wasn’t roleplaying anymore. I should leave, stop this. I opened my mouth to tell her that, but was preempted.
“Won’t you?” She reached out and, delicately, ran her thumb up my shaft, lingering on the sensitive underside where the head and shaft met. I groaned, and bucked my hips towards her, almost pushing my cock against her.
Her smile was sly. “So eager. I can guess how you've imagined recommitting yourself, Cedwin. Is that what you'd like to do?”
I tried again, mustering the shreds of my willpower. “I’m–not going to…recommit...”
The words dissolved on my lips as she pressed her chest into my cock. Fuck. My shaft slid along the soft, pale skin between her breasts, and then – looking up at me – she used her hands to bring her breasts around me, enveloping my length.
“You will,” she said, softly, smug. “The Tower is disciplined, ordered. The Tower endures, yes. But the Moon...the Moon is inexorable.” She started moving her breasts up and down my length.
I had no response besides another moan.
“Predators hunt by her light. The very tides ebb and flow with her embrace. Her soft glow shines upon ruined castle and bustling city streets alike. When men and elves are long gone from these lands, she will still endure, looking down on the stillness, on broken towers. You cannot resist her.”
Her ministrations felt so good. But her speech prompted the dim realization that I had wanted to resist her, that the point had been Cedwin wouldn’t give in. “I shall…you won’t…make me…”
But I trailed off, closing my eyes. My precum was getting everywhere, all over her cleavage, and she was picking up the pace. I tried to focus on resisting, getting myself under some semblance of control. But the slick sensation of those big tits was rapidly bringing me to the edge.
“Your resistance wanes. It won't be long, now. Serve me, and you shall be rewarded with pleasures beyond imagination,” I heard her whisper. “Look at me, Cedwin. Look at your Mistress.”
I was about to cum. I stared down at her. The midnight cloak, the makeup, her full tits wrapped around me. Dark hair framing a face that was smug, imperious; her pale skin almost silver in the dim light of the room.
Whether it was Monica or the Night Queen, she was right. I had no more resistance left, and her tits massaging my length was more than I could take. I gave up, giving in to the rising feeling of my orgasm.
She pumped up and down my cock a few more times. But just as I felt myself about to crest over the edge, she stopped completely, looking up at me with a wicked smile.
I groaned, helplessly. I didn’t want her to stop, now. I needed to cum.
In a low voice, she intoned, “You must be a willing devotee. Ask to recommit yourself.” Her tone was commanding, imperious. “Say please, Mistress.”
Shutting my eyes – feeling ashamed again, but desperate to cum – I whispered it out. “Please, Mistress.”
“I knew you’d come ‘round to Mistress.” She resumed, moving quickly now.
I registered that I hadn’t said the words in Cedwin’s voice, but my own…and she hadn’t said the last sentence in the Night Queen’s voice, either. It had been smug, sexy Monica, through and through.
I didn't feel good about that. It didn't feel like this was Cedwin anymore; I, Chris, had succumbed to something. But there wasn't anything I could do about it now. It only took a moment for the renewed sensation of her tits along my length to overwhelm me.
“Oh…oh fuck–” With a groan, I exploded.
Several ropes sprayed into her deep cleavage, and then – as she realized what was happening – she grabbed my cock and started jerking it, directing the rest of my orgasm first across one large breast, and then the other.
Panting, I stared down at her, tits and cleavage covered with my semen.
“You are rededicated. You may return to your cell and escape; there will be some resistance so that your new companions do not suspect, but not too much. You will succeed and begin traveling with them. I will...visit you, periodically, for updates and to give orders. To remind you of the rewards of the Moon. And to make good on my promise to deliver Enna to you.” Still using the Night Queen’s voice, Monica stood up and grabbed tissues, started cleaning herself up.
I nodded, too dazed and uncertain about what had just happened to respond more than that. Deliver Enna to me?
Monica pulled the cloak back over her body, drawing it closed in the front. “Oh…and she restores your tattoo through magic. It’s an imitation – the tattoos of the Tower’s disciples cannot be faked – but it ought to deceive Lucia as long as she doesn’t inspect it too closely. The original is now gone forever, though.”
Monica gave me a questioning look. “Anything else before we rejoin the others? No? Okay, good.”
“I–yeah, Monica, wait–” I struggled to pull my pants up. But she breezed past me. I barely had time to put my softening cock back in my pants and zip up before she opened the door.
---
I’d tell you about the dramatic escape, the exciting combat with the Moonguard, the way unconscious Meldrin nearly got left behind, Enna summoning the druidic magics of old to form a bridge of vines to escape – but to be honest, I was barely paying attention.
I was staring at Monica, with rapt attention that had nothing to do with the narrative she was weaving. And not just to see if I could catch a glimpse of her body through that cloak, though that would’ve been nice.
No, it was something else. I felt completely disoriented.
That…that had been the hottest thing that had ever happened to me.
And I hadn’t even wanted it to happen. Was still embarrassed that it had. Wanted to talk to her about it, but certainly not in front of Liz or Erin.
My eyes flicked periodically over to Liz and Erin. Were the sessions always like this? Did they know?
---
“Well, that’s a wrap, guys.” Monica smiled. “Hope you all had a good time. Good first session, Chris. You did some great roleplaying, especially during the interrogation scenes.”
Her mouth flickered into a teasing, almost cruel, grin. Just for a moment, but it was enough to remind me of how the interrogation had ended. My face heated.
“Yay!” Erin cheered. “You’re gonna keep coming back, right?”
I nodded uncertainly, my gaze fixed on Monica. “I, uh…yeah. I think I…want to find out what happens next, with Cedwin.”
Monica’s lips quirked back up into that teasing grin. “Oh, good. Me, too.”
Comments
Reader79
Also read this on Literotica, great story, makes you want to see what happens next!
Bob
Thanks for sharing this — I’m always wondering how helpful posting to Literotica is. (Also: definitely more ahead!)
roark717
Read this on Literotica. Absolutely loved it and wouldn't mind seeing more.
