Thread: Slaves of the Illithid (Morathor and Kaybee)

The grim fantasies that played through Fiera's mind were so relentless and so real that, when she rounded the corner and saw a hulking horror, her first assumption was that it doesn't real. She had to press on. A few paces later, though, she started to notice something was different. It wasn't clear to her right away, not with the distracting visions still dancing in the corners of her mind, but she soon realized that it was too slow. Whether it was being cautious, or simply patient, it was taking longer than any of the monsters in her mind. When it met her eyes , she understood this one was real. She tried to run, but her legs were bound by some unseen force that would only permit her to stumble forward--as she was alarmed to find herself doing, in any moment she wasn't actively concentrating on not walking into her doom. Her arms were similarly entangled. This was it, this was the end--she couldn't escape, couldn't resist forever, an sooner or later it would... The images that filled her mind were more intense than before, and yet, somehow less complete. They left her... unfinished. Wanting. Fiera had never been permitted to want, not for herself. A tool should have no intentions of its own, but dutifully follow the hand that held it. But she couldn't seem to help it now. She told herself these thoughts, these feelings, weren't hers, weren't her, that they came from the monstrosity before her. She struggled to recall the books she had read, to remind herself of the passages detailing such creatures--illithids, they were called, or mind flayers. She was aware of them, aware of what they could do, aware of what this one was doing to her, it wasn't her, it wasn't real-- But knowing that didn't change anything. Telling herself the thoughts weren't hers didn't banish them from her mind. Didn't cool the feverish heat spreading through her body, or dry the wetness that made her leggings cling to her thighs. Knowing where the feelings came from didn't stop her feeling them. Vaguely, she was aware that the illithid had begun to walk towards her. Terror twisted in her gut. It was unarmed, unarmored, and yet she knew that if it got its hands on her, she would never escape it. She tried once again to run, but still her legs were bound. Gritting her teeth, she focused instead on her arms, struggling against the force that held them. Her shoulders strained and her muscles burned, but slowly she moved her hand across her waist and managed to draw her dagger from its sheath--a wicked curved blade, ideal for slitting throats. She didn't think it would be enough, but if she could not escape she was determined to go down fighting. Then her legs buckled and gave out as she fell to her knees, Fiera realized she would not have the strength to stand again. To mount even this most feeble defiance against the creature that loomed over her. A moment later her fingers loosened and her dagger slipped from her grasp, clattering on the stone floor with a terrible finality. Her eyes fell on the monster's cock, inches from her face. Even now, half a dozen illusions swirled through her mind, of hard appendages like this one piercing her, filling her, flooding her with ecstasy. Her lips parted with a shuddering gasp, and as her shoulders went limp she slumped forward, her nose and open mouth pressed against the shaft, letting its scent wash over her as she panted against the illithid's smooth skin. A whimper escaped her throat.