Dungeon Mistress: Session 2 (Patreon)

Authors Note: Here's session 2. As I mentioned, this is a long one. You all will have to let me know if that's a good thing or if I've just added too much fluff. :)  

Thanks for this and any other feedback, and enjoy!

---

I stared at the email in my inbox for a long, long time.

---

Subj: Next session

Greetings, intrepid heroes! I had a great time in our very first session with Cedwin!

A few notes for next session:

• After your daring escape, we're going to pick up the action a week or so later. We'll recap the week -- so if there are things you've been doing as you travel away from the Night Queen's court, you can talk about them.  

• Our next session will begin as the party arrives in the port city of Ravensgate. Situated right on the border of the Night Queen's realm, this city is far from -- though not completely out of -- her reach. It seems as good a place as any to lick your wounds, marshal some allies, and plan next steps.

• Meldrin is still unconscious, so: sorry, Mike, but you can skip this one again. The party should have an opportunity to heal you this session. If they pursue it. It's up to them!

• Everyone else: PLEASE BRING YOUR COSTUMES. I've got a few scenes in mind that I think will be more fun if we're all dressed up.

• Chris, I'm taking pity on you since you're new. I've got a few things you can wear. Show up a few minutes early, and I'll help you get in wardrobe.

Your Dungeon Mistress,

Monica

---

It was similar to the kind of email I would've sent to all my players between sessions, making it clear where we'd pick the action up.

Except that it disinvited Mike from playing again.

And that it told Liz and Erin to bring their costumes.

And that it said that Monica was picking out some things for me to wear.

How was I supposed to respond to that, after how the first session had gone? Hey thanks, want me to bring any snacks?

I watched the email thread as replies trickled in.

First Mike responded, bemoaning that he couldn't join for the second session in a row, and telling us we had to make sure to get Meldrin healed this session because he wanted to get back to playing.

Then Liz responded, saying she was sorry she hadn't brought Lucia's costume last time but that she'd be sure to bring it.

And Erin responded saying she was going to try a new costume, which she said was her druid's 'city wear'. And that she'd bring brownies.

And then, after all of that, Monica sent another email, five minutes later.

Addressed only to me, this time.

I stared at the subject line for a beat, and then, heart beating rapidly, I opened it.

---

Subj: Size

Hi. What size are you? It looked like a small or maybe a medium to me?

Your Dungeon Mistress,

Monica

---

I blinked and my face heated as I re-read it.

She was probably talking about clothing. Probably.

But I was well over six feet tall. Lanky, yes, but a small?

Or, of course...she might not be talking about t-shirt size at all.

It's plenty big, I thought, feeling a sense of embarrassment. Nobody had ever complained. I had gotten a few compliments over the years, even.

Thinking about my size inevitably led me to the memory of her engulfing my length in her tits. The way my cock had disappeared entirely, vanishing into that deep, pale cleavage. She had really big tits, though; just because she'd made my cock disappear between them didn't mean I was...

I had gotten hard thinking about it, I realized.

Again.

I went to jerk off.

Again.

Those moments in her bedroom hadn't just gotten added to my spank bank, they were now the top search result. The sight of her, naked, makeup done to look like the Night Queen, staring up at me with smug superiority as I helplessly lost control between her tits, was seared into my memory.

Replaying it in my mind's eye while I was masturbating had a predictable effect. It wasn't long at all before I finished.

---

As the bliss of the orgasm faded, I was always left with the same, humiliating thought: I had called her Mistress. Begged her to make me cum.

At least the post-nut clarity was helpful in spurring me to action.

I started by firing off a response to her first email. This one was simple: I was excited to play, sorry to miss Mike but was sure we'd get Meldrin healed up soon, and appreciative of our esteemed Dungeon Mistress for her help with wardrobe. Everybody else had responded, I should too, I figured.

The second email I spent a lot longer revising, but in the end, it was simple too.

---

Subj: Re: Size

I'm a medium or a large for sure. Just too long to wear a small, you know?

Thanks for the wardrobe help!

Chris

---

I waited for her to reply. I wasn't even sure what I was hoping she'd say. 'Oh wow, Chris, now I remember, I loved how big your dick was'? 

Actually, I guess I was hoping she'd said that.

But she didn't reply.

I also wondered what she'd want me to wear. That sent me into a whole new tailspin -- what if it was embarrassing? I wasn't worried about showing off my body; I was a little skinny, but it gave me a leanness that I liked. I didn't think I looked too bad. But what if she made me wear something weird, like a dress, or...

I tried to re-rail my thoughts. She couldn't make me do anything. If it got weird, I'd say no. If that meant I couldn't play...well, I'd just leave.

I recognized that I'd told myself the same thing last session, too. But this time would be different.

---

By the time the day of the next session rolled around, I was basically bouncing off the inside of my own head.

I had half-convinced myself I'd imagined all the interrogation scenes from the first session.

And I'd also half-convinced myself that the best course of action was just to email saying that I was sick and skipping the session.

...But I was also half-convinced that Monica had asked me to show up early because she wanted a chance to tease me before everyone else arrived.

And part of me wanted that.

She had asked me to show up early.

I glanced at the time and realized that if I was going to be there early at all, I had to leave right now.

Shit.

 I zipped out the door.

---

"Hi, Chris."

Monica wasn't in costume yet. In fact, she looked like she was freshly out of the shower; her black hair was damp. She was wearing a light cotton bathrobe.

"Hey, Monica. Uh, this isn't your costume for the week, is it?"

My joke was spoiled somewhat by my complete and utter inability to keep my eyes on her face. The robe clung to the curve of her breasts appealingly.

All I could think about was how they had felt against me, last session.

I could feel her gaze on me, watching me as I looked at her body. She smiled. "No, I'm not in my costume yet. Come on in."

I followed her inside.

She turned and looked at me over her shoulder. "I'm going to finish getting ready using the bathroom, but I laid your stuff out in my bedroom -- you can go ahead and put it on."

She walked into the bathroom. A moment later, I could hear the hairdryer start. Feeling dismissed, I lingered uncertainly for a moment before heading into her bedroom.

Laid out on the bed were a pair of leather pants and what looked like it would be an old-fashioned loose, off-white tunic-style shirt. I breathed a sigh of relief -- not a dress -- and closed the door behind me, stripping and starting to change.

The tunic was no problem. It had a deep v and loose laces that left it open almost to my navel, but I was fine with that. Looking at myself in the mirror in Monica's bedroom, I thought I looked pretty good -- it gave me a kind of swashbuckling flair. I felt a bit of gratitude to Monica -- this wasn't weird, it was cool. She'd done a good job.

Then I tried the leather pants, which turned out to be a different story. They were tight. I struggled into them. They were cut like joggers -- tight around the calves, a bit looser in the thighs, but looser was all relative -- they basically clung to my legs. I got them on once, looked at myself in the mirror, and realized that my boxers looked bad underneath them. Weirdly bunched up.

I hesitated for a moment indecisively, feeling embarrassed...and made the only decision I could. Erin and Liz were both in costume. Monica took it seriously, too. And it really did look awful, with the boxers on -- like I was wearing a diaper or something.

I stripped the pants off, pulled off my boxers and put them in a pile with the rest of my clothes, and got back into the leather pants, commando.

I had just managed to finally get them all the way on and was grappling with some odd, complicated dressy laces at the waistband when Monica opened the door. "Hey, everything going okay in here? Everything fits?"

She hadn't even knocked.

"I, uh, yeah, just a sec--" I frantically tried to tie up the waistband as she moved into the room, but there must be some trick to the laces I didn't understand.

"Oh, let me help with that. These are always stupidly complicated." Monica moved over and knelt in front of me, pushed my hands away.

Looking down at her, I took in what she was wearing for the first time.

She had a wig on. At least, that's what I assumed it was. Her dark hair was now a platinum blonde, done into some intricate braidwork down her back.

Her lipstick was a bright, cherry red.

I didn't know what she'd done for makeup, or tanning spray, or whatever she'd used on her skin. But her otherwise ivory skin had an even tan, now. And she had a given herself a scar, somehow. It was just above one eyebrow, the pale remnant of a wound -- as if she'd been nicked by a blade there, long ago.

She was wearing a silvery sheath dress. The neckline was low, showing off full, tanned breasts. It clung to her body. With her knelt in front of me as she worked on the laces of the drawstring, I was looking down her back, at the way the dress highlighted the curving lines of her body: the tapered waist, the way her hips and ass flared out...

I was silently staring, I realized.

I had to say something. "Wow, you, uh, look great. Is this a new character?"

She glanced up and gave me a knowing smile. "Thanks, Chris. Yes, you all will be meeting the Daughter of Blades today, one way or another, I suspect. And I didn't realize you liked blondes. You've always seemed like a brunette kind of guy, to me. Interesting."

I flushed. She, Erin, and Liz all had darker hair.

Before I could ask more about the Daughter of Blades, though, the suggestiveness of the position she was in dawned on me. She was kneeling in front of me, right at waist height, staring fixedly at my crotch with a determined look on her face as she did up the complicated laces. Then I realized -- watching as she pulled at the laces, re-laced them...that she could probably tell I had taken off my boxers, wasn't wearing anything under the pants.

The whole situation had me starting to get hard. And these were very tight pants.

Fortunately, she stood up after another moment or two. "Okay, that should do it." Her face was inches from mine, and there was a moment of silence as she looked me in the eye, a challenging sparkle in her gaze, like she was waiting to see if I'd say -- or do -- something.

But I was flustered and intimidated, and stood staring at her, awkwardly. So eventually, she spoke first. "Well, let's see how you look, Cedwin. Then we can decide on some finishing touches."

I turned around and we both looked in the mirror, inspecting the transformation.

I broke into a smile. "Hey, thanks for the help Monica. I look pretty good."

Those bright red lips curved into a smile as she gave me a once over. "I like it too."

In the mirror, I could see her gaze lingering on my groin. My cock was clearly outlined in the pants, I realized, even though it was only at half mast. I opened my mouth to respond, but Monica just breezed on. "Now, accessories always complete an outfit like this. First of all -- okay if I give you a temporary tattoo?"

The change of subject left me behind. "What? I, uh, sure..."

"Good. Hold out your forearm." She went over to her vanity, and returned to my side with a sponge and a glossy quarter-sheet of paper.

The Tower, I realized. Cedwin's tattoo. Or, at least, what used to be his tattoo -- and was now an imitation, placed there by the Night Queen. "H-how did you even make this?"

"I know a tattoo artist who owes me a few favors. He helps me out with this sort of thing for costumes now and then." Her hand drifted across my forearm as she decided how to place the tattoo.

Her fingers felt good, playing over my skin. I tried not to read into what it meant that the tattoo guy owed her a few favors. Tried -- and failed -- not to imagine what the favors in question were for. "Oh, uh, cool."

She sponged my arm and applied the temporary tattoo. "Okay, let that sit for a moment while it transfers. Now, let's see..." she inspected me for a few seconds, eyes roving over my body. "...Some jewelry, maybe...something masculine, but with a bit of an edge to it..."

She went over to a cabinet and rummaged out, handing me a leather bracelet, which I put on around the arm without a tattoo, and an iron ring, which went on the index finger of one of my hands.

She nodded her approval, still looking at me. "Hmm...almost enough, but..." and then she snapped her fingers. She went back to the cabinet, returning with a silvery chain.

A crescent moon dangled from it.

She stood up and, leaning up and in, reached behind me to fasten it around my neck. "After all," she murmured, right in my ear, "You did dedicate yourself to your Mistress. Even if the other players don't know that, you and I do."

I was speechless. At the word Mistress, my cock surged.

Then she peeled away the tattoo transfer paper, and gave me a final once over. She nodded, looking pleased, and gestured at the mirror. "What do you think?"

I turned back to the mirror.

The leggings clung around my calves, a bit looser through the thigh. The laces at the waist were...well, flattering, somehow making my waist look slimmer, and thus my shoulders broader, legs more muscular. The baggy tunic, draped loosely over my lean upper body, gave me an undeniably relaxed, devil-may-care attitude -- although admittedly at the moment I felt wound pretty tight from Monica's promixity.

To be honest, I looked pretty fucking good.

Finally, she met my eyes. "Yep, I think you're all set." And then her eyes drifted down, again. "And I guess you were right; certainly a medium or a large, not a small."

You could, I realized, see the outline of my mostly-hard cock very clearly, now. I flushed with pleasure -- and then embarrassment at how good the compliment made me feel.

I had imagined a few different snappy comebacks if this topic had come up again; in the moment, none of them came to mind, though, so there was another awkward silence.

She looked at my cock a moment longer, then up at my eyes, expectant, waiting for me to say something...and then her doorbell rang. "That'll be Liz," she murmured. "I'll go let her in."

At the thought of my friends seeing me in this outfit, I tried adjusting myself to make the outline of my cock less prominent, but there was no use; the pants were tight enough that it was just going to be on display. I settled for putting it in a position that I hoped would just be a nice bulge -- suggestive, masculine, but inoffensive, as long as I didn't get too hard.

But it was still quite obvious. Well, at least the loose tunic would be draped over it while we were all sitting down to play.

I went out to meet Liz.

---

"Oh my god, Chris! Or should I say, Cedwin. Monica, you've outdone yourself." Liz was emphatic as she looked at me, walking around, making me show off the tattoo.

I held out my forearm for her inspection.

I was, admittedly, distracted. "You, uh, look awesome too, Liz..."

Liz was also in costume.

Liz mostly wore loose, flowing dresses, or professional work attire. The occasional pair of jeans with a graphic tee.

Lucia, apparently, wore skintight black leather leggings. Heeled black leather boots. A strappy top, with a bandolier of small knives, went across her chest; she was wearing a red and gold bandana around her neck. Brown hair, up in a long ponytail, completed the look.

I was finding it difficult not to just follow Liz's ass with my eyes as she walked around me, inspecting at the various details on my costume. God, the way she filled out those leggings. I could see her butt flex and shift with every step as she walked around me.

My nerdy childhood friend had evidently been spending some time in the gym.

"Hm?" Liz glanced up at me. "Oh, I guess I wasn't in my costume last time, huh? You like it? I like the knives. And the boots. Monica helped me find the right pair. These are totally badass." She carefully lifted one leg, putting a boot on the table in front of me. I tried to inspect only the boot, did my best to ignore the interesting things that the position did to her butt and thighs.

You're wearing tight pants, I reminded myself, trying not to have a physical response. Fortunately, Liz's attention was pulled away.

"And Monica, you look ravishing!" Liz exclaimed, turning to her. "What character are you? We haven't seen this costume yet!"

Monica gave a small smile; she had moved behind her counter and was making drinks. "Why, none other than the Daughter of Blades stands before you, Lucia."

Liz gave a returning grin, and shifted to her Lucia voice -- huskier. "Well, well. Her reputation precedes her."

The doorbell rang -- Erin, presumably -- and Monica stepped away to let her in.

I took the opportunity to ask Liz a question. "Who's the Daughter of Blades?"

"Lucia is a member of a thieves guild, the Hemlock Sisterhood," she explained. "It's um, wide-ranging -- chapters in each city, a shadowy network of operatives if you need a rare or dangerous item, want someone kidnapped or poisoned, that kind of thing. As the name suggests, it's ladies-only. The Daughter of Blades runs the Ravensgate chapter; she's kind of infamous."

I nodded, uncertainly. "Oh. Think she could help us get some revenge on the Night Queen?"

Liz smiled, and in Lucia's voice -- a smoky purr -- said, "That's what we're gonna find out, handsome."

I had to admit that, like Erin, I liked Liz's sexy little Lucia voice.

And -- feeling the stirring in my groin -- I realized that increasingly, I did not like my odds of getting through this without giving Liz or Erin a clear eyeful of my hard cock. I slid into my seat, figuring sitting would make it less obvious.

Fortunately, I was rescued as Monica walked back into the room from her front hallway, followed by Erin.

"Erin, that dress is great! You have to let me make some alterations, though. I could totally tweak the hemline and the neck, really lean in to the kind of sexy-woodlands-druid look you've got going," Monica was saying.

"Sure, that sounds awesome! I can leave it with you when we're done," Erin responded.

"...And Monica, looking like that in your dress, you'd do great if you ever want to go corporate. You just let me know, I know some hiring mangers who'd bring you on in a heartbeat. And what kind of makeup are you using? Your skin is so tan, and it's so even -- is that just like a bronzer, or self-tanner, or..." Erin kept going. I admittedly stopped listening to the makeup talk.

I was too busy staring at Erin, now.

She was wearing a brown dress. It was short, well above the knee, with a scoop neckline, and the muted earth tone contrasted nicely with her pale, freckled skin and red hair. Elf ears and some wooden hairclips -- little stylized birds, I realized -- and the same staff I had seen last time, completed her outfit.

As they all prattled on about skincare products, my eyes were locked on Erin's tits in that dress. The word that came to mind was buxom. Very...earth mother. If the earth mother in question was a MILF.

I got control of my wandering eyes just in time as Erin regarded me.

"...Wow, Chris! Helloooo, Cedwin!" Erin made me stand up, and gave me a once over. "Oh my god, the Tower tattoo and everything! Monica, you finally gave us some eye candy, this is a romance-novel-cover outfit!" Erin jabbed me in the ribs, grinning. Liz giggled too.

I liked it; their attention felt good -- but it was mixed with a familiar stab of jealousy, just like last session.

How come Erin and Liz never showed up like this when I ran games for them? How did Monica cultivate this...flirty, sexy atmosphere, when in my games they'd only ever shown up wearing whatever they happened to be wearing, and the small talk was about their days at work, the ex they just broke up with, or something else equally mundane?

Monica just gave a pleased smile. "Everyone's looking a lot better away from the Night Queen's prison, aren't they? Let me make some drinks, and we'll get started. The usuals? Martini, gin and tonic, and...bourbon?" Her eyes rested on me, and I nodded my confirmation.

"Good. Be with you in a minute."

We all sat down, pulling out dice, character sheets, and the like.

---

"As you all arrive at The Raven's Gate -- the eponymous entrance to Ravensgate -- you can't help but feel more relaxed than you have in days. You haven't been followed, you're almost sure of it. And while technically on the border of the Night Queen's realm, the city functions almost as an independent city-state. This is the perfect place to make a new plan...or, perhaps, to heal your friend. Meldrin lies unconscious in the back of a wagon you bartered with some farmers to obtain. He is improved, some, but the Night Queen's magic lingers like a malaise over his mind."

Monica paused, steepling her fingers. "Each of you prompts a slightly different reaction from the guards and onlookers at the Gate as you enter. Who's leading the way?"

We glanced at each other uncertainly. "Cedwin will," I said, finally.

Monica nodded. "Cedwin specifically prompts a peculiar sort of stir," she noted.

"Because he's a hottie," Erin said, with a smirk.

"No, because he's marked both by the Tower...and by the Night Queen," Monica said, softly. As she spoke, she reached across the table and traced her fingers along the pendant around my neck. Her fingers grazed my skin -- her touch was electric.

Liz and Erin both stared, clearly noticing what the pendant implied for the first time. "But you betrayed her," Liz said, questioningly. "You survived the interrogation and escaped. Cedwin doesn't work for her anymore."

I hesitated, not quite sure how to play this, but nodded. "Yeah, Cedwin's not exactly a fan. But he's still got the accoutrements, as it were. I mean, it might come in handy."

Liz opened her mouth to say something else, but Monica cut in smoothly. "The Tower tattoo on your arm prompts some nods of respect. But they quickly turn to quiet mutters as folks notice the moon pendant, Cedwin. The Night Queen has a complicated relationship with this city, evidently."

We all mulled that over for a moment. "Who's through next?" Monica asked.

"Enna!" Erin said her character's name enthusiastically.

Monica nodded. "Enna's elven beauty provokes significant interest, especially from the male guards. You get more than a few leers. You get the feeling that you might get more trouble than leers, but they eye Cedwin -- and the blade at his side -- and think better of it."

"Oh my god, they think Enna and Cedwin are looovers," Erin said, giggling and leaning against me dramatically.

The part of me that had harbored a crush on Erin for the last fifteen years loved the physical contact. But I tried to play it cool, and managed a laugh. "I mean, as I recall, you did say -- what was it? -- that Enna would climb his tower?" I quipped.

"I do love a good tower," she said, flirtatiously, using Enna's voice. The words, and the feel of her bare arm brushing mine, the curve of her pressing against me as she leaned over to shoulder me, were prompting a physical response. I was glad we were all sitting down.

Liz rolled her eyes. "Sometime Lucia will tell Cedwin what Enna got up to when we first arrived at the Night Court. You wouldn't believe--"

"...And finally, Lucia," Monica intoned, clearly trying to keep us on track. "Lucia, your entrance to the city does not go unobserved either. On the other side of the gate, you see a woman -- in beggar's clothing, though perhaps more than she seems -- flash you a familiar hand sign; the Sisterhood's greeting."

Erin leaned over to me and whispered, "She's part of this, like, thief sorority."

"Quiet, Erin, I already told him about it," Liz said. "Lucia returns the greeting, walks over, and flips the woman a coin. She wants to have a conversation."

"The woman snaps the coin out of the air with a well-practiced gesture." Monica gave her voice a reedy, spindly rasp. "What news from the road?"

"I'm afraid I'm out of the loop, so to speak, Sister," Liz responded in Lucia's husky tones. "I was going to ask you the same thing. My companions and I have, until quite recently, been...guests, but left our accommodations behind, a week or so ago. We need a place to reestablish ourselves."

"Oh, my. Guests of whom?" Monica made a peering, worried facial expression.

Liz hesitated. "Can I do, like, some kind of guild hand signals for Night Queen? I don't wanna say her name out loud and attract attention."

Monica nodded. "Sure. The woman looks taken aback for a moment. Then she says..." Monica shifted back to the reedy voice. "My, my. Well. That's above my pay grade. Politics, you know. You'll need to see the Daughter directly, then, if you want Sisterhood assistance in this case."

Liz nodded. "I thought as much. How do we find her?"

"She gives you a time and a streetcorner to meet someone at tonight," Monica said. "And then she skulks off -- probably to go tell others about you."

"Okay, we'll plan to meet them, but it sounds like we've got some time to kill. We should get supplies between now and then -- Cedwin could probably use some armor, right?" Liz looked at me.

I nodded.

"What does Enna need in order to heal Meldrin?" Erin asked, curious.

Monica consulted her notes. "Enna has a complicated ritual in mind that she think will do the trick. Most of the components are easy to come by, but you will need two harder-to-come-by things that you won't find in some shopkeeper's stall."

"Okay, what's the rare stuff?" Erin pulled out a pen to jot down some notes.

"First, the flowers of a plant called the Moon's Tears; they're incredibly rare, and are used in all kinds of mind-altering poisons and drugs...and in their antidotes. You might forage them, but you'd have to get incredibly lucky, this close to a city. An alchemist or herbalist might have a small supply of them, though."

Monica paused, letting that sink in. Erin nodded, thoughtfully.

"The second is somewhere to actually perform the ritual. In this case, you need a place of perfect darkness -- something that physically mirrors the absolute darkness that has clouded Meldrin's mind. Your average room-with-the-doors-closed-and-windows-shuttered won't cut it; maybe a cave deep underground or similar. No light at all."

"I mean, both of those seem like things the Hemlock Sisterhood can help with," Liz pointed out. "Why don't we find a safe place to stow Meldrin, go shopping for all the easy stuff, and then we can see if they'll set us up with those."

---

We roleplayed our way through shopping. The party was low on gold -- the Night Queen's guards had confiscated most of their hoarded wealth when they'd been captured -- but we got some healing potions, some armor for Cedwin, and the mundane supplies that Enna needed.

Lucia wanted a new set of lockpicks and some trap-disarming tools, but Monica declared she'd have to go to the Sisterhood for that too. "Merchants like locks," she said, amused. "You think people whose livelihoods rely on putting gold in a locked chest at the end of a business day run around freely selling lockpicks to shady adventurers like you?"

Liz sighed ruefully, but nodded. "Okay. Yet another ask for the Sisterhood. Let's go see them, then."

Monica nodded. "Alright, you head to the streetcorner at the appointed hour. It's dusk, now. A young woman -- maybe in her early twenties, a half elf -- sees the three of you. She looks curiously at Cedwin for a long moment, but then flashes Liz the appropriate hand signals. She's clearly a Sisterhood courier -- here to lead you to the Daughter."

Liz was thoughtful, though. "You know, I don't know if I've ever actually seen a man in a Sisterhood guild hall...have I?"

Monica nodded. "You've seen a few, but not many. It's not against guild policy to have servants or companions with you, they just can't become guild members."

"I mean, Cedwin's a looker, maybe she just thinks he's handsome," Erin said.

"Maybe," Liz said, slowly. She looked concerned. "Is Cedwin sure he wants to come with us?"

I blinked. "Uh, I mean, yeah, I think so. We should stick together, right? What are you worried about?"

"I don't know, exactly," Liz said. She sounded suspicious. "It reminds me of Meldrin. I just feel like Monica sometimes--"

Monica laughed. "Hey, no metagaming against the Dungeon Mistress!"

I really wished Liz had gotten to finish her sentence. Monica sometimes what?

But instead, Liz just laughed and waved her off. "Okay, okay, fair enough, Monica, you're right. Lucia wouldn't be worried. Alright, we follow her."

Monica nodded. "Okay. The courier leads you on a bizarre tour of the shadier parts of the city. You wind your way through ramshackle alleys and back streets. At some point, you go under an awning and then into a building, down a flight of stairs, and out through a door...but you don't emerge back onto the streets. You descend winding passages, through odd tunnels and hallways that must be a very old part of the city. You can't help but notice that you're heading steadily down, down, down -- you must be deep under Ravensgate indeed, by the time you arrive at a set of double doors that appear to be your destination. The courier nods at you, meaningfully, and posts up next to the doors without another word."

I looked at Liz and used the weary baritone I had developed for Cedwin's voice. "You want to do the honors, Lucia? You're the Sister."

"Sure, handsome. I know you'll watch my back." Liz used Lucia's husky voice, and winked at me.

It completely threw me. Was that a joke about me checking out her ass, earlier?

"Okay, how's Lucia enter?" Monica asked.

Liz stood up, walked a few paces away from us. "You know Aragorn throwing open the doors at Helm's Deep?" She strode several paces forward and thrust her arms apart dramatically, throwing open a pair of imaginary doors. "It's like that."

Now I was definitely checking Liz out, watching her legs flex in the tight leathers as she moved. Jesus.

Erin politely applauded. Monica smiled as Liz came back over to the table. "Such heroics. Much drama. Okay, and Enna and Cedwin follow behind lady Aragorn, here?"

We both nodded, and Monica kept going. "You enter into a dimly lit room. Flickering torches in the corners play over a large table in the middle. On it, a detailed map of the city of Ravensgate and its environs. It's covered with handwritten notes, some figurines representing what are no-doubt Sisterhood assets and stockpiles, that sort of thing."

Monica paused and then stood up for dramatic effect. "Behind the table is a woman; she stands as you all enter. She's beautiful, her face marred only by a single scar on her brow. You know the whispered story behind the scar -- the rumor is that she bested her own mother in single combat to the death, to wrest control of the Ravensgate chapter from her. It's the only wound she's ever taken in combat. This can only be the Daughter of Blades. She arches one eyebrow as you enter."

Liz pantomimed a bow. "The Daughter of Blades, I presume? Thank you for opening your doors to us."

"Welcome, Sister. You must be Lucia. The one who's bringing nothing but trouble to my otherwise peaceful doorstep."

The voice Monica was using was...well, bratty. There was no other way to describe it. It was higher-pitched, entitled, sarcastic. Her body language had shifted, too; she was lounging against the side of the table, and she rolled her eyes as she finished speaking.

It clearly registered with Erin, too. "Oh my god, Monica, that voice is awful. She's so hateable." She said it in an awed whisper.

Liz smirked and responded in character, letting out Lucia's throaty chuckle. "Oh? You fear the Queen?"

Monica, playing the Daughter, let out a scoffed, offended intake of breath. "No. But you would do well to fear the Queen. Do you have any idea what she's offered me for your heads?"

I was taken aback. The others didn't know it, but I knew the Night Queen had let us escape. It seemed unlikely that she'd have offered the Daughter money to return us; she could have just kept us in the dungeons in the first place, if she'd wanted.

"Cedwin studies her closely. Can I tell if she's lying?"

Monica shrugged. "You can try; she's obviously a very practiced liar, so it'll be difficult. Make an Insight check."

I rolled. I had made Cedwin with some pretty solid social skills. I just needed a decent roll, and I had gotten one. "Will a 25 do it?" I said, hopefully.

Monica slowly nodded. "Okay, yeah. She's lying, you're sure of it. You get the sense that she probably doesn't actually hear directly from the Night Queen at all, in fact."

In Cedwin's weary baritone, I said, "She bluffs, Lucia."

Monica's gaze whipped around, fixing on me, her affect once again full of the Daughter's petulance. "Do you always let your toys talk, Lucia? I find it tiresome. I prefer my pets silent."

I blinked at that. "I'm not her t--"

Monica smoothly stood up out of her chair and interrupted me. "Cedwin gets about half of that sentence out before the Daughter is in front of you. She moves fast, unexpectedly so."

Her voice shifted back to the Daughter's entitled tone, and she strode around the table to stand next to where I was seated. She let out a long, bored, sarcastic sigh, leaning down to look me in the eye. "Not only does it talk, it talks back. Ugh. You're in a Sisterhood guild hall. Eyes forward, mouth shut. If you want to keep your tongue and balls intact."

There was a moment of silence where I tried -- and mostly failed -- to keep my eyes fixed on Monica's, as opposed to drifting towards her full tits. With her leaned over, they were on display in front of me, lush and round, the tan skin from whatever makeup she had applied contrasting with the silver of the dress. Monica gave me a little wink before she straightened up, walking back to her seat.

We were all quiet for a moment, and then Erin whispered, "So very hateable. Nobody threatens Cedwin's balls in front of Enna like that. We should kill her and take her stuff."

It cut the tension of the moment; we all laughed, even Monica.

Then Liz, in Lucia's voice, said, "Sorry about that, Daughter of Blades. Perhaps I need to keep this one on a shorter leash. Though I have to say, if you're cutting the tongues out of your toys, you're missing out on some interesting possibilities..."

Liz's voice shifted back to her normal cadence. "...And Lucia kind of drapes an arm, full of possessive familiarity, across Cedwin's chest and inside his shirt."

And then -- to my utter astonishment -- Liz did just that. I felt her hand run along the smooth skin of my chest. It was only for a moment, and then she pulled her hand away quickly, maybe embarrassed, perhaps realizing that it had been a bit much. I was too stunned to react. Liz had never touched me like that.

"Ooh, okay," Monica said, clearly intrigued. "The Daughter would respect that, but Cedwin's obviously not Lucia's toy, unless there's something new you two want to share about what your characters have been getting up to on the trip to Ravensgate..." she let the suggestion hang in the air, but after a moment, Liz shook her head with a smile.

Monica nodded. "...Right. So you're lying to her. Make a Deception check. I'll give you advantage though, this is clever and believable, from her perspective."

Liz rolled. "Thirty," she reported, decisively. Yeesh. Lucia must have a pretty high Deception score.

"Okay, she believes you." Monica put an intrigued look on her face, and in the Daughter's voice, said, "Indeed? I've always found men to be mostly useless with their tongues, but you have piqued my interest..."

Monica was looking, speculatively, at me. I knew it was supposed to be way the Daughter was looking at Cedwin, but the look in Monica's eye -- full of suggestion, the idea that maybe Cedwin knew what he was doing with his tongue -- well, it was enough to set my pulse racing. Visions of me, face buried between Monica's thighs as she bucked against my mouth in the throes of pleasure, were all too easy to conjure. I could feel my cock straining against the tight pants.

"Cedwin here is quite talented. Perhaps you just haven't been playing with the right toys," Lucia purred out.

Or maybe it was my face buried between Liz's thighs. My cock didn't just twitch, it lurched.

"Oh my god, what a good line." Erin said in hushed, delighted tones.

"Perhaps not, indeed," the Daughter said, still intrigued. But she looked away from me after a moment, and her voice was dismissive again. "But enough of toys. What brings you here, Sister? What do you need?"

"A few things, Daughter of Blades," Lucia said, formally. "A new set of tools, that I might ply my trade once more, and make the sisterhood proud. A handful of the flowers from the plant known as the Moon's Tears. And a room of perfect darkness, to accomplish a ritual."

The Daughter of Blades rolled her eyes. "Ugh. You wish to save that other man, who came in with you on the wagon. Another plaything of yours? How many toys do you need?"

Lucia opened her mouth to reply, but Monica waved her hand dismissively. "Never mind. It doesn't matter. Men never do." Her voice still held all the petulance of the Daughter, but there was a shrewdness to it, now. "And in this case, it is beside the point anyway. You ask for too much. The tools of the trade are easy enough -- any member of the Sisterhood has the right to ask for those, and they shall be given. You will receive them forthwith. The Moon's Tears, the dark room, though -- those are harder, require resources and people I could use elsewhere. And you're asking me to help undo the Night Queen's magic. Maybe she hasn't asked me for your heads, but she certainly doesn't like it when people do that. Either offer something to make it worth my while, or I'll be forced to say no."

The Daughter -- well, Monica -- settled back in her chair, looking pleased with herself, fingers steepled.

The three of us glanced at each other uncertainly. We didn't really have anything to barter with.

"Can...I make some kind of check to figure out what might motivate her?" I asked, tentatively.

Monica considered for a moment before responding. "You can make another Insight check, sure, but I don't think Cedwin really understands enough of her motivations to truly barter here. At best you'll just get some hints."

"Okay, that seems fair..." I rolled the dice and blinked. "Okay, wow. Um. A natural 20."

"A crit! Our rolls are on fire tonight!" Erin high-fived me with enthusiasm.

"Well, then..." Monica looked thoughtful for a moment. "Okay. Cedwin can see -- from the Daughter's body language -- that she is indeed intrigued by him. Smitten, even. Perhaps he is the poker chip needed to trade in the negotiation."

Liz turned towards me. "This is what I was worried about. I mean, I feel like she could be quite dangerous, I don't know if--"

But Erin was speaking at the same time. "Cool, just take her into a back room and show the Daughter that tower, Cedwin." She pantomimed unzipping her pants and made a thunderous sound as if she were laying out an enormous cock, before lapsing into a fit of giggles.

I flushed, and looked uncertainly first at Erin, then Liz, then at Monica.

Erin looked delighted by the idea of trading Cedwin as a favor.

Liz looked concerned.

Monica just looked curious, that one eyebrow raised. "Well? If Cedwin doesn't want to say anything, Lucia can certainly keep negotiating."

"What's the worst that could happen," Erin said, enthusiastically.

I knew the answer to that. A scene alone with Monica. A scene that might be both hot and embarrassing.

But maybe I wanted that. Did I?

Besides that, I realized -- thinking on Liz sticking her hand on my chest -- there might be a fun way to make it happen.

I leaned over to Liz and murmured in her ear, using Cedwin's baritone, "Lucia, what if the Daughter got to play with me for a bit in exchange for helping us? With your permission, of course. As you said, I'm your plaything, after all."

Heart beating fast, I made sure to brush her ear with my lips. Not much -- it could plausibly be accidental -- but my lower lip grazed the lobe of her ear.

Liz obviously hadn't been expecting me to put the question to her -- or to feel my mouth against her skin -- and she turned an adorable shade of pink. "I, uh, I mean--" she stammered the words out, not using Lucia's voice at all.

Erin clapped delightedly.

Monica didn't say anything, but I could see an amused, approving twist to her mouth.

It was nice to not be the one who was off-balance, for a change.

Liz recovered her equilibrium quickly, though, and said, in Lucia's smoky voice, "Well, pet, if you're offering, why not?" She paused, looking at Monica across the table. "We get our help first, though. The Daughter can have her playtime afterwards."

Monica returned Liz's gaze, but then her gaze settled on mine. Assessing, amused, she looked me over, ran a hand thoughtfully through her blonde hair.

Then the Daughter said, "Fine. He is intriguing , I admit. I play with your pet, you all get what you need. But he had better not disappoint, Lucia."

"Oh, I think you'll find he's full of surprises." Liz said it in Lucia's voice -- but she was looking at me, her face still pink.

Monica nodded. "Okay, then. There's suddenly a flurry of activity -- the Daughter summons some people from another room. One of them runs off to visit one of their alchemists, who will hopefully have the herbs you need. Lucia, another returns momentarily with a set of lockpicks that she presents to you. A few minutes later, you're led even deeper into the depths of the warren of tunnels underneath Ravensgate, to a cavern. It's lit by a few flickering torches right now, but it's easy to imagine how -- with those extinguished -- this will indeed be a room of perfect darkness."

Erin asked Monica a few questions about the ritual. Monica answered them, and then when there was a pause and none of us said anything further, she said, "Okay. We're going to go to the ritual scene. What I need the three of you to do is head into the bedroom for a minute. I've gotta do a few things to the room to set the scene."

We looked at each other, curiously, and then got up and crowded into her bedroom.

---

"So, uh, Monica is pretty...intense about these sessions, huh?" I said, quietly. I had immediately sat on the edge of the bed, hoping -- correctly -- that it would leave the tunic draped over my groin, making the erection I had over the idea of another scene alone with Monica at least somewhat less obvious. Liz and Erin were both standing, next to each other, a little ways away.

"No kidding. It's fun, though," Erin whispered.

In the other room, we heard what sounded suspiciously like the sound of furniture being dragged across the floor. We glanced uncertainly at each other for a moment.

"I mean, your games were always great too, Chris," Liz added after a moment, loyally.

It made me self-conscious. My games had been fun, but they were nothing like this, and I knew it. I just nodded.

"Can just Enna -- nobody else -- come in here please?" We heard Monica call, from her main room.

Erin gave us a little wave and left the room.

Liz and I looked at each other, awkwardly.

I remembered something from earlier in the evening. "What were you trying to say earlier, about Meldrin?"

"Oh...nothing, I guess, really." Liz hesitated.

I gave her a frank, direct look. It was the same look I'd given her as a kid, when she'd beaten a boss in a video game before me, but wouldn't tell me the strategy she'd used. "Liz, c'mon. Spill."

"Well, I sometimes feel like Monica likes to...um, tease the guys in the group," her voice wasn't just quiet now, it was a whisper. "And sometimes it's a little mean. Not like...cruel, or anything, I just felt like Mike got a lot of solo scenes, and now you are too, and you've both seemed a bit---"

Liz cut off at the sound of Monica's voice.

"Okay Liz, you can come on out, too," Monica called.

Liz paused for a moment, and then shrugged, helplessly. "...It's probably nothing. She runs a different type of game, and it's fun, I like it...I just...feel a little protective of you, that's all." She smiled at me. "Just let me know if she's making you uncomfortable or something, Chris. That would matter to me."

She gave me a smile, and opened the door, closing it behind her.

I was stunned. There was a warmth blossoming in my stomach that -- for once -- had nothing to do with the way she looked in those leggings.

Liz was a good friend.

But now it was just me, and my thoughts.

Was Monica making me uncomfortable?

Maybe?

Yes?

But I liked it?

Was she doing the same thing with Mike?

My thoughts were interrupted, though, as, Monica opened the door, and shut it behind herself. "Okay, Chris, here's the deal. We're gonna try something a little...experimental. Enna's started the ritual. She's delved into Meldrin's mind and found the spark of his consciousness -- it's dimmed, but still there -- amidst all the darkness. But now she has to find her way out of Meldrin's shadowed psyche. She can't do that alone; she needs help."

She paused, letting that sink in for a moment, then continued, "Lucia can't help her; she doesn't know the Night Queen's touch. But Cedwin does. He knows the darkness of the Night Queen all too well. Enna needs him to help her. If he can reach Enna -- or Enna can reach him -- he can help her out the rest of the way, rescuing Meldrin's spark of consciousness and Enna, too."

She paused, letting me consider all of that. "In a moment, I'm going to open that door, and you need to try to reach Enna. You're free to move towards her as you like. I've rearranged the room so, uh, be careful, you know? But otherwise do whatever you want to try to get to her. There's only one rule: you can't speak or make noises to let her know where you are. If you do that, the ritual fails and you all will have to try something else to rescue Meldrin."

"Just...just reach her? I-I mean...so...that seems pretty simple?" I said it cautiously. Her apartment was an open floorplan, but it wasn't really a big space overall. I was aware that there was probably something I wasn't getting.

Monica smiled. "First of all, it's really dark in there, now. Second, there'll be distractions to complicate things. Liz isn't playing Lucia for this scene; she's helping me represent the influence of the Night Queen."

"Uh...okay?" I didn't know what else to say, or what that even meant.

"Ready?" Monica looked at me, expectant.

She didn't let me answer. She just flicked the lights off, and then opened the door.

---

The front room of her apartment was dark, now. Startlingly, impossibly dark.

I didn't know what she'd done to her windows or to her door, but somehow, the little bit of light I would've expected seeping in from around her curtains and under the front door was completely absent. I didn't even see any of the small LEDs we all grow accustomed to in modern society, from smoke detectors and the like. Maybe she'd turned off her breaker box or something.

Regardless, while I'm sure it wasn't perfect darkness, it was impossible to see a damn thing in there right now. I hesitated, hoping my eyes adjusting would help at least a bit.

It didn't, not really.

And then, Monica, using the Night Queen's imperious voice, murmured in my ear, "Why, Cedwin. You're not helping them undo all the fun I had playing with Meldrin's mind, are you?"

Her voice was low, barely audible even to me. As she spoke, I felt a hand -- warm, soft -- drift down my abdomen and palm my cock through my pants. I bit back a sound. I wasn't supposed to make noise, I remembered. I stood stock still.

"I suppose," the Night Queen mused softly, in my ear, "that I did promise you Enna. And she'll no doubt be ever so grateful for your help. So maybe I should let you...I've had my fun, after all..." As she spoke, her one hand ran across my -- now rapidly hardening -- cock, fondling it, massaging.

And her other hand reached for mine, and guided it up to one of her breasts.

I bit back another sound. I hadn't actually touched her breasts, before. She'd used them on me. But this was my first time feeling them with my hands.

I squeezed one through the fabric of her dress, feeling the soft weight of it. Her tits were enormous, perfect, far bigger than a handful. God. They were, without question, the greatest tits I'd ever felt.

"Cedwin?" It was Erin, using Enna's slightly ditzy tones. "I need your help."

But my attention was elsewhere.

"Of course, between the temptations of the Daughter, and Enna, I'm worried you'll forget that you pledged yourself to your Mistress." Monica was fondling my cock more insistently, now, and as she finished the sentence, I felt her lips touch my neck, kissing along it.

I was absolutely dizzy with desire. I managed to keep quiet, but it was only with difficulty. She was just so fucking...hot. Not being able to see only heightened my sense of touch: the round softness of her breast in my hand, her warm mouth along my neck, the insistent massage of her hand against my length.

And those same familiar, imperious tones that had kept me so off-balance in the last session.

"Or perhaps you fancy Lucia, now, too, in those leathers," Monica whispered in my ear. "I'm not jealous, Cedwin. You can have them. All of them. As long as you call me Mistress. Me and only me."

I was so turned on. Almost turned on enough not to care that my friends were in the room with me, only the veil of darkness keeping them from seeing the way Monica was teasing me.

But just as I was about to ignore what I was supposed to be doing, to bring my second hand up to her other breast, she pulled away from me. "Now -- go to her, if you can."

The combination of my arousal, and the sudden and complete absence of touch in the impossibly dark space was extremely disorienting. I blinked a few times -- which didn't help at all -- and started cautiously forward, hands out in front of me.

"Cedwin? C'mon, help meeeeEE!" The last word out of Erin turned into a startled shriek. I could hear the sound of a scuffle and a snort of laughter that sounded like Liz -- clearly impeding Erin's progress. I started moving that way, carefully, but had to stop and navigate to one side, and then double back, when I encountered a... was it a wall of chairs covered in a blanket? I almost tripped over a chair-leg as I felt my way along the barrier.

Erin was completely out of character, now. "Jesus Christ, Liz, you're strong, take it easy, that tickl--" Erin descended into helpless gales of laughter.

The sounds subsided, and then Erin said, "C'mon, Chris, get over here."

Monica's soft voice was in my ear again, though. Quiet, but the imperious tones of the Night Queen. "Yes, get over there, Cedwin. Enna needs you." I felt her hand slip inside the waistband, this time. I was rock hard, and she ran her hand along my length once or twice. "She needs your help...she'll be so grateful, maybe she'll submit to you. Do you think so? Or would she tame you, the way I have? Make you hers?" Her hand slipped away.

I could feel myself leaking precum, but I tried to ignore Monica. I understood the spirit of this scene, now. This was an excuse for her to tease me as the Night Queen. I needed to put a stop to this. So I kept moving. It was slow going, threading my way through a tangled maze of furniture and trying not to trip.

And then I walked, crotch first, into a full, round, leather-clad ass.

Liz. She must be facing the other way, perhaps waiting for Erin to make more progress before surprising her again. She gave a small, startled intake of breath as she felt me bump into her.

Specifically, as my hard cock pressed against her ass.

I was startled myself. And -- reflexively -- I reached out and put my hands on her waist as I lost my balance a bit, steadying myself.

She felt incredible. Her ass was full and round against my length, and her waist was small, tight in my hands.

My cock surged, but I was dismayed. Oh, shit.

I had just pushed my very erect cock up against Liz's ass and grabbed her by the waist.

Liz. My childhood friend, who just wanted to make sure Monica wasn't making me uncomfortable.

I pulled my hands away and backed up a half-step almost immediately. I opened my mouth to apologize, hesitating only on how to word it.

Liz, realizing it was me, only seemed focused on slowing me down, though. Still facing away, she backed up with me, using her body to keep track of me. She was still facing away -- maybe trying to keep facing towards where we could both hear the slight sounds of Erin moving. But it meant I felt my cock graze along the first one globe of her ass, then the other, as she found her way back up against me -- and then I felt it nestle between them.

Fuck. Her ass felt great, and there was a part of me that wanted nothing more than to grab her by the waist and grind against her. But I knew there'd be no coming back from that, no plausible deniability.

I made a small sound -- slightly pained -- and tried to twist around Liz. Erin was right, though, she was strong, and she managed to get her leg in front of mine, tripping me, and -- with a slight whuf of breath from me, and a muttered shit from her, we both toppled to the floor.

She was mostly underneath me, and I could feel my cock pressing against what felt like one of her thighs, now. We scrabbled with each other briefly -- she rolled to put her belly on the floor and crawl out from underneath me, which only had the effect of putting her ass against my cock again. Her hair, back in that ponytail, brushed against my nose. I could smell her hair as she army-crawled out from underneath me.

Confused and more than a little concerned by how thoroughly I had just rubbed my cock up against her, I pulled away, and started to stand up...only to be immediately bowled over by someone else.

At first, I thought it might be Erin, but after a moment, there was a murmur in my ear -- Monica again, still using the Night Queen's imperious tones. "Remember to keep control, Cedwin. This is a good trust-building experience, but if you ever want to bed Lucia, or Enna, they'll have to respect you...not see you losing control just because that cock was pressed up against a nice ass...or because your mistress is whispering some pretty words in your ear..."

She was on top of me, and I felt her slide her hand inside my leggings, this time, running it along my length. It made me realize just how much precum I was leaking. I hoped there wasn't a stain.

"Chr--uh, I mean, Cedwin? I need your help, it's really dark in here," Erin called. She was much closer by, now. She sounded a little desperate in a way that I suspected wasn't roleplaying anymore.

I could hear the Night Queen's imperious smirk as Monica whispered, "Oh, she's so needy isn't she? Is that how you like your women, Cedwin? Desperate? Think she's like that in bed, too? I wonder. Well, you had better go to her."

And then she was gone again, slipping away.

"C'mon, Cedw--god dammit Liz, not again, I swear to fucking god--" Erin trailed off into another gale of ticklish laughter, and I could hear the sound of a scuffle.

Carefully, I moved towards where I could hear the two of them tussling on the ground as Erin struggled to escape. I could hear Liz giggling.

I reached down, slowly. My hand -- as if it could see perfectly in the dark -- brushed along the smooth curve of Liz's ass first. She must be on top. She let out a little sound of surprise. Fuck. I adjusted quickly -- hopefully fast enough that she didn't feel like I was groping her -- moving my hand up to her waist and pushing, rolling her off of Erin and lowering myself to try to put my hands on Erin's shoulders, to help her to feet.

Instead, as I rolled Liz off and reached down, Erin reached up, clearly trying to grab Liz again and push her away, and put her hand, squarely and firmly, right on the length of my hard cock.

Oh, shit.

Hurriedly, I reached down, going for her shoulders...but I misjudged in the darkness and got a double handful of her breasts instead. They were firmer than Monica's, smaller -- but still soft and full under the material of that dress.

God. We both reacted quickly -- I pulled my hands away, out towards her shoulders, and she pulled her hand away, too.

"C-Chris? Oh, thank god," she sounded flustered, but the relief in her voice was apparent. She quickly shifted her hands up to mine; I stood, and then helped her stand. "Monica, I found Chris. Turn the lights on. And that sucked and we're never doing another scene like that ever again, I didn't think I was afraid of the dark but congrats, Liz fucking jumping me out of nowhere has definitely unlocked a new phobia."

Erin gave me a shaky hug, continuing, "And Liz, you hellacious bitch, I'd threaten to kick your ass except that you're clearly stronger than me--" 

She cut off and we all winced, blinking at the sudden brightness as Monica flipped the lights on.

I suddenly registered the fact that I was hugging Erin, standing inches away from Liz with an absolutely raging hardon, wearing the tightest pants I'd ever put on.

All of us were half-blinded at least a few seconds. I pulled away from Erin and moved fast, navigating around what I now saw was indeed a hastily-built labyrinth of furniture.

"Great scene, Monica. Gotta pee though, I've been holding it since we started. Be right back!" I said, hurriedly.

I pulled the door to the bathroom shut behind me.

---

I inhaled a shaky breath, staring at myself in Monica's bathroom mirror. I listened to the sounds from the living room: Liz laughing at something Erin had said, the three of them moving the furniture around, Monica explaining to Erin the effects of the ritual Enna had completed.

I gave myself a once-over. I was sporting a small, but obvious wet spot at the head of my cock. Which was rock hard, and very clearly outlined in these pants. They clung to the length of my shaft.

I exhaled, slowly. It had been bad enough that in those few minutes, all three of them had touched or felt my cock at one point or another. It would've been absolutely disastrous if the lights had come on and revealed me with a massive erection because of it.

I hoped things wouldn't be weird with Liz or Erin.

I leaned against the sink for another minute or two, giving it a moment for my body to calm down before I rejoined the others.

---

"Well, that was very entertaining. I know it was a little different...what did you all think?" Monica had a sly smile on her face as we all re-settled ourselves at the table.

I looked around uncertainly, deciding that there was no way in hell I was going to be the first one to answer that question.

Liz laughed and nodded. "I had fun, yeah."

Erin crossed her arms. "Ugh. I'm not surprised, I mean, you were helping Monica." Then her gaze shifted, and she gave me a sidelong look. "Did you like it?"

I shrugged, noncommittally. "Uh, it was...different." The way she had her arms crossed pushed her breasts up, and together. I tried not to stare.

Erin frowned. "C'mon, did you like it, or not?"

Was it just me, or did her gaze flick down to my crotch?

Liz frowned, too. "Yeah, what'd you think, Chris? We don't usually do...that...sort of thing."

Did she mean the group didn't usually do that kind of live-action scene? Or Liz and I didn't usually touch each other that way?

Monica raised one amused eyebrow, waiting.

"Uh...it was fun, yeah. Different." I felt like I couldn't be too enthusiastic, given what had happened, or I might seem like a creep.

"See? Chris had a good time too, it wasn't just because I was on Monica's team." Liz sounded triumphant.

"Hmmpf." Erin made a sound of disapproval, but she didn't seem too upset. "I guess it was pretty different, yeah. Parts of it were fun. But lights on in the future, please. I didn't like how disorienting it was. OR how you tackled me, Liz."

Liz shrugged. "You should work out more."

Erin bristled. "Just because-"

Monica cleared her throat, loudly, and Erin lapsed into silence. "...Anyway, with the ritual complete, Enna and Lucia, you need to tend to Meldrin. He's conscious for the first time in weeks. You spend some time bringing him up to speed, I assume?"

They both nodded.

"Good. That's convenient, because -- as you all linger in the ritual room, the torches lit once more -- the Daughter of Blades arrives." Monica's voices shifted into the Daughter's entitled, tones. "Well. I was just thinking that I'd stop by to see how things are going, but it looks like they're going well. What a happy reunion. I think I've delivered on my side of the bargain. Lucia, if you'll loan me your plaything for a few hours, I'd like for you to deliver on yours."

Liz looked back and forth between Monica and me, uncertainly.

I knew what was coming -- a solo scene with Monica. My heart was racing, but I nodded at Liz, firmly.

"Well, knock her dead, handsome," Liz said, in Lucia's husky voice. But I could hear the tension, there.

"Make sure she gets her rocks off, Cedwin," Erin said, in Enna's ditzy, slightly breathless tones. "We need her as an ally, so you've gotta be thorough."

Monica sauntered around the table and made a show of inspecting me.

Then she took my hand and pulled me to my feet and towards her bedroom.

"I'll return your toy in a few hours, Lucia -- don't wait up." Then Monica shifted to her normal voice and winked back at them. "But seriously, back in a few minutes after we roleplay this interaction. You guys should text Mike and give him the good news that he can actually participate next session!"

I followed Monica into her bedroom, pulling the door shut behind us.

---

I stood in the bedroom awkwardly.

I realized I had no idea what to expect. Last session, Monica had been playing the Night Queen, who had been trying to...well, to seduce me to betray the party.

Had succeeded in seducing me to betray the party, I mentally amended.

This seemed much more straightforward, really. The Daughter wanted to play. But I didn't know whether that meant we'd talk about what Cedwin and the Daughter were doing, or if we'd just...

"The Daughter leads you through a tangle of underground corridors to what is clearly her private quarters, and through her quarters into a lavishly appointed bedroom," Monica said.

"I, uh...I try to remember the route in case I need to get back to the others on my own," I said, trying to think quickly. 

Monica nodded, and sat down on the edge of her bed; I stood a few feet away. She crossed her legs, and I stared at the expanse of smooth, tanned thighs on display -- she must've applied bronzer or whatever there too, I realized.

"Okay. It'd still be tricky -- this place is a maze -- but you're at least trying to keep tracks of the twists and turns."

She was using what I'd come to think of as her DM voice -- just narrating the action. Did that mean we weren't going to do anything physical?

Then she spoke in the Daughter of Blades' petulant, high-pitched, cadence. "Well, well. You're eager, aren't you?" She ran a hand along her long blonde hair and looked, pointedly, at my cock.

Which was hard. Rock hard, again, and obvious in the tight pants. The anticipation had done it, remembering what being alone with her last session had meant, imagining what we might do this session. I blushed and didn't say anything.

She laughed. It was a girlish, bratty sound. "How cute. I see why Lucia likes you."

That just made me redden further. "I'm not c---"

I lapsed into silence as she reached up and put a finger to my lips. Her cherry-red lips pouted. "Shhh. Don't use your mouth for that. That's not what I was promised, and you know it."

She paused, and -- keeping eye contact with me -- uncrossed her legs and then, very slowly, spread them, pushing herself to the very edge of the bed.

"If you want to impress me, you know what to do. Kneel."

I hesitated. Was...was I really going to do that? On command? The image of my face between her thighs, Monica bucking her hips against me, flashed through my mind again. It'd be hot, but I didn't like being so...submissive.

"I mean, unless you don't know what you're doing down there. Lucia seemed to think you do, but it wouldn't be the first time a man's talents have been...oversold to me." Her tone was impish.

I was already horny and confused. Now I was horny, confused, and angry. Fuck Monica. I wasn't going to let her condescend to me.

I knelt between her legs, and then put my hands on her thighs and pushed them apart even further. Her thighs were soft and smooth under my fingers. She let out a little gasp, but inched herself further forward -- her dress was up around her hips now.

I pushed my face between her thighs. She wasn't wearing panties, and was shaved bare, her neat, pink folds on full display. I didn't waste time; slowly, assuredly, I ran my tongue up her slit.

She let out a pleased sigh. "Mmm, good boy, Cedwin."

It was gratifying -- but although I felt a thrill of pleasure at her words, it wasn't the response I wanted.

I didn't want praise. I wanted to hear her losing control. Needed it. Fuck her.

So I started eating her out as urgently and aggressively as I knew how. I pushed my face into her -- not hard, but thoroughly, as I worked my tongue up and down, along her folds. She was wet, and only getting wetter. Her taste and scent, the proof that she was aroused, aroused for me -- was intoxicating.

"Ah," she hissed. "Very good boy. I see why Lucia likes you...so eager..."

I just grunted in response.

"Or perhaps you learned these tricks from your Queen...after all, I know you come from the Night Queen's court, Cedwin..."

It dawned on me that Monica was -- impossibly -- still roleplaying the Daughter of Blades.

While I was going down on her.

I felt another surge of anger. I wanted her breaking character, not pretending to be somebody else while I ate her out. I redoubled my efforts. I reached around with both hands and grabbed her ass -- which was soft, lush in my hands -- using my grip to rock her against my face.

"Oh, yes," she moaned. I felt her bring her hands down, run her fingers through my hair. That moan went straight to my balls; I felt my cock surge at the sound. I was dimly aware that I was leaking precum everywhere, now. But I didn't care; I had finally gotten a reaction from her.

"I imagine this is how you start with Lucia...but with a body like hers, once she's warmed up, you probably bend her over to fuck her, don't you, Cedwin? That round ass she has looks so delicious in those leathers..."

She was still in character. I was starting to feel a sense of futility, but I redoubled my efforts, focusing my tongue on her clit, now.

"You're not answering me...but I guess your mouth is busy, isn't it? Such a useful tongue." She let out a languid, wanton sigh. I felt her push against my face.

She let out another moan. I didn't know if it was how Monica sounded when she was aroused, or supposed to be how the Daughter sounded, but I didn't care -- it was so hot, so sexual and charged. My cock was throbbing.

"Mmm...this was an excellent warm up, Cedwin. But I'm ready for the main event, now."

God damn it. Still in character.

I started sucking on her clit. I wanted to hear Monica losing control, not the Daughter. Wanted to do to Monica what she'd done to me, last session.

"Mmm. You do have a useful mouth, pet. But everyone has a tongue, Cedwin. Impress me. Show me something only a man could do to satisfy me." She was still using the Daughter's high-pitched, bratty voice. "Unless you aren't man enough."

Well, the frustration, the helplessness, boiled over. I stood up, standing between her thighs, one vision playing through my mind: Monica, impaled on my cock, moaning as I thrust in and out of her. Losing control for me.

Submitting to me.

I fumbled with the laces, dropping the pants to the floor.

"Chris, are you sure about this?" It was Monica, using her more normal voice.

I was suddenly aware of the state I was in -- my cock was rock hard, and glistening with my own precum. My face was damp, wet from Monica. I probably looked totally consumed by lust.

Because I was.

But her question made me pause, hesitating. Did she not want to?

"Well, I just wanted to make sure, you know, after last session, when it seemed like you didn't resist for as long as you wanted Cedwin to." Her voice was a smug purr.

I stared at her, speechless.

"I mean, we could take a little break before Cedwin does whatever he's about to do to the Daughter, if it'd help." Her face was kind, sympathetic. But I could hear the note of teasing condescension in the words.

She knew I was turned on and didn't think I'd last.

The embarrassment of it all overwhelmed me, further fuel for the anger and shame I was feeling. Fuck her.

I stepped forward between her thighs, lining my cock up with her wet entrance.

"Mmm, yes, Cedwin, show me how Lucia likes to use her toys...ah--"

That little sound she made as I brushed the head of my cock against her wet folds and started to slide inside was the hottest thing I'd ever heard.

I pushed in further. She was tight. Overwhelmingly so. Enough so that there was considerable resistance, so that I could feel her wet pussy, soft around me, engulfing my length as I pushed further inside her.

"That's a good boy," she murmured. She was staring down between her thighs, at my length penetrating her.

The sound she made as I entered her, the tight grip of her around me, those words -- it all had me closer to the edge than I had expected. The evening full of teasing. Going down on her. The...confidence she had that I wasn't going to last.

I slid further into her, and then further, bottoming out inside her. I held still, hoping to give myself a minute to adjust to the sensation.

"I'm so full of your cock," she whispered, in the Daughter's voice, smug and pleased. She was staring up into my eyes.

"D-do you like it?" I realized belatedly that I hadn't used Cedwin's voice. I was preoccupied, trying to keep myself under control.

"It feels nice. Maybe you can show me how Lucia likes getting pounded with that cock, now...give me the same treatment you give her..."

I didn't respond. My length buried in her wet, tight pussy, and the way she was talking, was not helping me calm down. The opposite. I could feel myself slowly, inexorably, getting closer and closer to the edge.

She trailed off, and her lips curved up into a pleased, teasing expression as she studied my face for a moment, silently. And then in the Daughter's voice -- bratty and sarcastic -- she said, "Uh oh. You aren't going to pound me, are you? You can't. I can tell. How flattering..."

I gritted my teeth, trying to hold back, to fight the overwhelming need to cum. But it was no use. Another moment's struggle, and it was all I could do; I felt myself crest across the edge.

As that happened, in her normal amused, teasing voice, Monica whispered, "Maybe you should've taken that break."

I pulled my length all the way out of her, slammed it home again, and felt the first spray of cum jet out of my cock inside her. I moaned helplessly -- the intensity, the feel of her, the way she gripped my cock was all too much.

"Mmm, yes, I was just too much for you, wasn't I? Let it out..."

She was speaking as the Daughter again, but I was too overwhelmed by pleasure to consider that for more than a heartbeat. I pumped in and out of her, again and again, each stroke prompting another spurt of cum from my cock.

The orgasm was long; it just seemed to keep going. The way Liz, Erin, and yes, Monica, had all looked tonight. The banter, the endless teasing. The touches in the dark. My desire to see Monica lose control, thwarted. The way -- yet again -- I'd been overwhelmed by her, submitted to her.

All the tension of the evening poured out of me, one thrust at a time.

By the end, I was spent. I lay atop Monica, catching my breath.

"Well. That was entertaining. I see why Lucia likes you."

I reddened. That had been one of the hottest orgasms of my life -- I'd been incapable of stopping myself from cumming immediately, and the intensity had been totally, completely overpowering. But here she was, still speaking as the Daughter.

With effort, I pulled myself up off of her, so that I could look her in the eye. Her hair at least looked a little mussed. But her makeup was still perfect -- those bright red lips curved into an amused, superior smile.

"I-I...that doesn't--" I trailed off sheepishly, not even sure what I was going to say.

"Ah, and you're embarrassed. Even better. So flattering." All bratty smugness, now. "Yes, I enjoyed this immensely, Cedwin. You're welcome to come back and play any time," she whispered, in my ear. "Whether Lucia's with you or not."

Lucia. Liz.

I realized that I had no idea how long we'd been in here. I pulled away from Monica, tried to get myself into some semblance of order.

After a moment, Monica sat up, doing the same.

I didn't know what to say. I opened my mouth and closed it, a few times.

Thinking of Liz reminded me of the conversation with her, earlier. She at least cared about how I was doing.

That conversation with Liz reminded me of something else.

"Have you done this with...with Mike too?" I could hear the resentment, the jealousy in my own voice. I didn't like it. But then, I didn't like asking the question, either; I didn't like that there even was a question.

Monica looked up at me. The Daughter's impetuous air disappeared for a moment; she just looked curious. "Why? Does that matter to you?"

I opened my mouth to say...well, I don't know what, because as I did, Monica whispered, "I mean, he hasn't called me Mistress, if that's what you're asking. Why don't you ask him yourself, though, if it's important to you?"

"I, uh...that's not...why would...I didn't mean--" I was stammering. She just smiled, finished adjusting her dress and walked over to the door.

I scrambled, adjusting my disheveled clothes into some semblance of order.

Monica opened it and walked out.

After a moment, I followed.

---

"How...how does the Daughter look when they return?"

Liz had waited until we both got settled, but only barely. She was eyeing Monica with undisguised suspicion.

I cringed internally, wondering what Monica would say.

"The Daughter looks pleased. Incredibly so, in fact." Monica's voice shifted higher, more petulant. "Well, Lucia, I have to admit, I thought you might be overselling him. But he is surprising, as you said. That was...mmm...the most fun I've had in a very, very long time. I'd offer to buy him from you, but I imagine you wouldn't part with him, so I'll just say that the next time you'd like to do business...bring him along with you, again." Monica let her gaze linger on my crotch for several long, suggestive moments. "Entertainment like that is hard to come by.""

It hadn't gone the way I wanted, of course, but Monica's description left a lot open to interpretation, and it was obvious that Erin and Liz read between the lines in a positive way.

Erin clapped, giggling.

Liz looked pleased, but then turned to look at me. "And how's Cedwin?"

Fortunately, I'd had the good sense to expect this question.

I shrugged, and in Cedwin's weary baritone, I said, "Well, the Daughter is satisfied. Our deal is...discharged." I tried to make his voice a little bored, as if I was unaware of the pun.

Erin started laughing. Even Liz cracked a smile.

I tried to change the subject. "How's your friend, Meldrin?"

Erin pulled out her phone to show me a series of celebratory texts from Mike.

Liz stared at me curiously for a few more moments, but then nodded, looking mollified.

---

Like the first session, if I'd been paying more attention, I'd tell you more about the rest of the session. There were further conversations with the Daughter about the possibility of more help from her against the Night Queen, but she wanted to see proof that others would join the fight against her, first. Erin had to do some follow-up healing on Meldrin. That sort of thing.

But I spent most of the time in an odd kind of daze, my mind wandering, looking back and forth between Erin, Liz, and Monica.

Erin and Liz liked this sort of game. They had both -- inadvertently or otherwise -- been grinding against my hard cock tonight.

Even if it wasn't on purpose, they must've been able to feel it. To tell.

But neither of them raised it, said anything at all. The session wrapped up without anything else untoward happening. We all said our goodbyes and headed home.

---

I figured that'd be the last of it for the next few weeks, at least until Monica sent the next pre-session email.

It wasn't.

Later that night, an email showed up in my junk folder.

It was from an obvious throw-away account -- picture an email address like yourdndbuddy43721 at gmail.com, or something equally mundane. I was on the verge of deleting it, but the title caught my eye. I opened it, and read.

---

Subj: The Tower

I liked the way Cedwin's tower felt tonight.

---

That's it. One simple line. No way to tell who it was from.

Liz?

Erin? It could be either of them.

Or was it Monica?

I didn't know. I didn't know how to find out.

And I didn't even know what I wanted the answer to be.

---

If you've read this far, one specific question about something I'm trying out that I'd like feedback on: in the first chapter, I always make it clear when someone is speaking as their D&D character by using both names.

In this chapter, I sometimes frame dialogue as coming from the D&D character directly. As an example: 

In the first chapter: "You certainly can't handle me," Monica said, in the Night Queen's imperious tones.

In this chapter: "You certainly can't handle me," the Night Queen said, imperiously. 

Can you let me know if it bothers you? Is it jarring? Weird? An improvement since it's simpler? Maybe you didn't even notice? I may revise this chapter on Patreon before posting it elsewhere based on your feedback. It's a pecuiliarity specific to this type of story, so I appreciate any insights on how this lands.