#Lore24 – Entry #322 – Fantasy Month IV #17 – A Messy Situation

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

For those readers who may not be aware of the exact timing, these journal entries are indeed written well after the events described within them; I can’t very well catalogue my thoughts when I’m being assailed by ravenous vines covered with lust-inducing venom, now can I?  As an example, this and the last entry were both written once the party safely returned to Vindinium.  As to how that happened, do read on.

I am uncertain how long the druids allowed the vines to enjoy our bodies, for it is all a pleasure-shrouded haze of frustration in my case, though perhaps Risai and Korvalis may indeed have a different opinion on the matter.  I would daresay Risai may have enjoyed the predicament for a time, and perhaps Korvalis as well, though the wrath he would bring upon the druids following our eventual escape may indeed indicate the opposite. 

We were taken into a well-hidden camp deep within the Thistlewood, nestled among some of the ruins of the ancient draconic city, the vines shaped and controlled by the druids to keep us restrained and at their mercy.  I can recall Risai fighting against the binding vines, to little effect other than the vines seemingly redoubling their efforts to feed upon her essence.  As my memories of the hours or days that we spent in captivity are hazy at best, I will skip to the parts I remember, the night we were to be sacrificed.

I believe their ritual was intended to correspond to the peak of the full moon, for the druidic cult had dedicated themselves to preparations during our captivity and grew ever more excited for what was to come, to the best of my recollection.  I am thankful that our companions who had not been captured remained vigilant, for on the day of the ritual, the druids rested later and more deeply than normal as they prepared themselves, leaving only a handful to keep watch over us.  Ellisar saw to cloaking our party members with his magic, while Shassk saw to dealing with our guards in a silent, if most gruesome, manner, aided by magical silence from Ellisar.  Once the druids controlling them were dealt with, the maidenbane vines lost interest in us, thoroughly gorged as they were upon our vital essence.  Gresilda thankfully had prepared several spells to remove the lingering effects of their poison upon us, giving us a proper chance to carry ourselves out of the hidden enclave, cloaked by more of Ellisar’s invisibility.

I was content to make a hasty retreat to Vindinium, but Korvalis would have none of it, insisting that he had to pay the druids back for their actions.  This was the first real conflict amongst our party, and I could understand wanting revenge, certainly, but our best interest lay in retreat to fight another day.  Still, Korvalis, once he had regained his equipment, set off on his own, followed soon by Shassk, while the rest of us rode ahead toward the river crossing a few miles away.  We would wait until sunset for them, and if they didn’t return, then we were to assume they had been captured or killed.  Nobody liked it, but Risai and I were nearly exhausted, and Ellisar and Gresilda had little left in the way of magic.  I still don’t know exactly where Korvalis found the energy to do what he did.

It was just an hour or so before sunset that our two wayward party members returned, the smell of blood heavy upon them, remarkably light of injury. I didn’t get all the details, but Korvalis seemed sated in his bloodlust, and all Shassk would tell me was that even he was now rather unsettled by the deadly efficiency with which Korvalis dealt with the druids. “I have never seen so silent a death befall so many…” was all he told me. There would be no further need to worry from that particular cult.

With that dark mood firmly established, we pushed onward to the village, arriving a couple hours after sunset, where we could finally take time to recover from our long excursion.

#Lore24 – Entry #321 – Fantasy Month IV #16 – Detours and Detainments

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

Upon leaving the standing stones, the greatest source of my frustration finally stopped their incessant buzzing, returning to their more normal routine of random stimulation that only left me mildly frustrated in comparison.  The southeasterly course we had picked was not as easy to navigate as our previous route and thus took us several more days to traverse, but didn’t seem to pass through any kobold territory, so at least we were unmolested in that regard.  There were dangers aplenty, though, for with game being plentiful, it meant we also encountered more predators that were none too pleased to have intruders into their territory.  Though mostly your more mundane cougars, wolves, and the like, we did have to deal with another flame-drake that came at us from above.  I must say that for once I was quite pleased to see Ellisar’s Staff of Many Bindings be used, for it made short work of the creature once its ability to fly had been taken from it.

Our luck would not hold, however.  As we neared the region where we were likely to find the next set of standing stones, we began to see signs of humanoid habitation in the form of painted markings upon the rocks, old campfires, bones of harvested game.  The rock paintings indicated orcs, likely one of the many tribes of them that the Heroes had been facing on a semi-regular basis since they had begun their work in the region.  Soon enough we would begin to see cooking fires in the distance indicating a very large population of them.  Thus far, only a scant few tribes have proven themselves the least bit civilized, the Empire’s loyal Badaxe Clan foremost among them, so it was unlikely that these tribes would be willing to entertain outsiders in their lands, especially when said outsiders are likely responsible or killing a great many of their kin.

Thus, we were forced to move with extreme caution, detouring off our planned route for several days, following Shassk and Korvalis as they navigated a route that would avoid the worst of the orcish population.  At least we would gather some useful information about their location and numbers for future use.  Once we had come out of orcish territory, we had to swing back to the northwest, circling the rim of the valley that housed the standing stones for another day before we finally found a passable route down into it.  Thankfully the orcs had not claimed the area for their own, and like the previous stones, the primal energy that lay heavy upon the site had kept them away. 

We completed our next ritual without incident and made haste to clear the area, driving swiftly to the southeast once more in the direction of Vindinium.  Our good fortune would run out as we neared the Thistlewood and Lake Thistlelonica, on the far side from the village.  As we ventured along the upper shore of the lake in search of the river that fed it, and a crossing that would get us to the village, we found ourselves facing a sudden ambush that even our guides had failed to notice, for it was not at all what we had come to expect.

In our haste to return to the village, we had failed to notice the curious nature of the overgrowth in this region, the thick canopy of leafy vines that spread like a green sea over the hills, wood, and shore.  We skirted the mass, not wanting to go through blindly, but the mass of vegetation came alive, swelling and rising up like great leafy serpents.  Our horses were spooked, rearing and dancing wildly at the sudden movement, and Risai, Korvalis, and I were unable to control their wild behavior and were thrown.  As we tried to recover from our misfortune, bruised and dazed from our falls, I heard shouting and chanting in a language that I would later come to recognize as the secret tongue of the Druids.  Walls of thorns sprang up between us and the rest of our party, and the very trees began to come alive against us.  The vines closed in around us as spells filled the air, and try as I might, I could not keep the vines away from me or the others.  Risai’s heavy mace was mostly useless against the vegetation, as were Korvalis’s daggers. 

In my case, the vines swarmed around me in a fury, and as they latched onto me and their secretions began to tingle upon my skin, I realized that they were a form of maidenbane vines, for I grew somehow hornier and lethargic in their grasp, dropping my scimitar as they coiled about me and ripped my clothing away.  I suppose I was the lucky one here, for I was at least somewhat protected from their most erotic probing by Lady Armenia’s chastity gear, though they still found their way to my rear and into my mouth.  Fight as they would, Risai and Korvalis were likewise subdued by the combined strength of the vines themselves and the potency of their poison, leaving them helplessly wrapped in their invasive clutches.

The sounds of battle would fade as the others were forced into a hasty retreat, and through our pleasure-addled daze, we would see the fur- and foliage-covered druids we had not noticed approach us, watching with satisfaction as their vines continued to hold us helpless before them.  Using their magic, they urged the binding maidenbane vines to move, and we were brought deeper into the cover of the Thistlewood, for what purpose I could not imagine in that moment, for I was lost in the pleasure haze, even if the accursed chastity gear prevented me from climaxing, even with the poison coursing through my veins.

#Lore24 – Entry #320 – Fantasy Month IV #15 – Unexpected Complications at the Standing Stones

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

I suppose I should likely have been more concerned when we moved deeper into the site of power and my accessories activated once again.  It had been such a mild distraction the last few days during my study of the ruin that I almost dared to believe that I had mastered its influence upon me.  This proved incorrect, however, for as we approached to within a hundred yards or so of the stone circle, both the nipple rings and my most uncomfortable cage began to vibrate, steadily and with growing intensity, as we drew closer, making me fidget enough to unsettle my horse.

Descending toward the center of the valley, the growth of trees around the stone circle thinned as we grew nearer until we were in a treeless clearing at the center, the circle of ancient stones stood perhaps a hundred feet in diameter, with the stones themselves standing roughly twenty feet high.  Some appeared almost like massive claws reaching from beneath the earth, while others formed standing arches at precisely the angles that matched the eight compass points.  No trees grew within the circle, the grass remained short, and no moss covered them.

Though we were exhausted from our assaults from the kobolds, and I was growing more aroused by the moment thanks to the incessant and powerful vibrations surging through me, I nonetheless began to study the circle while camp was prepared, just outside the circle.  After a time, when it seemed I may actually climax, I felt a most jarring cessation of the vibrations, almost as if a lever had been pulled, leaving me unsteady on my feet for several moments as I recovered.  Now that I was upon the edge of climax again, the other function of the items had taken over, and after I had had a few minutes to cool off, the teasing would start up again, ramping up to an almost painful level before shutting off just before I could reach the climax I so desperately needed.

It didn’t take me long to realize that the power of the dragon-rune-covered stones were causing this peculiar behavior, for the nature of the vibrations changed as I touched various stones and traced the runes upon them, transcribing them into my notes with what light we had left.  I wondered if I would be able to find rest at all within the radius of the circle without magical aid to suppress their activation or to put me into a deep magical slumber.  Although this did give me a clue on the origins and nature of the magics that had been worked into the devices attached to me, even though I wouldn’t make pondering upon them a priority.

The party, while not completely unaware of the nature of my predicament, as we had discussed my relationship with Lady Armenia during our travels, and Gresilda and Risai were quite well aware of situation as we had bathed together on multiple occasions to this point, certainly found out that night.  Shassk was indifferent or perhaps unreadable to me, Ellisar and Korvalis seemed quite amused with my predicament, Gresilda sympathetic and understanding, and Risai…perhaps envious?  She is rather stoic outside of battle, showing a remarkable control of her barbarian bloodline, but I’ve noted that she has been watching me for some time with a rather obvious curiosity. 

Still, once we had settled down around the campfire for the night to recover, I had began to form some idea of the nature of these standing stones, perhaps cluing me into the reasons why the magic within my accessories had activated so intently.  The nature of the site, and perhaps of this particular dragon’s domain, was to celebrate fertility and propagation of the species, and thusly, the ritual that must be performed in the name of the dragon ruler was one of a distinctly sexual nature.  This I kept hidden at the time, for I still had over half the stones to study to confirm this theory, but it would prove true enough by the following evening once I had had time enough to compile everything I had collected.  I found my rest through another sleeping enchantment from Ellisar, thankfully, though I was exceptionally aroused and quite wet by the time morning arrived.

Our respite was uninterrupted, the kobolds not willing to cross into the stie’s radius to hunt us down, and by noon the following day Shassk had already found two other routes out of the valley along the ancient, connected roadways that would undoubtedly lead to other standing stones.  After a very long and frustration-filled day, I would have conformation of the nature of the ritual that we would need to perform to show our devotion to the “Blinding Golden God”.  Though not an actual orgy, it would skirt very close to it, given the highly sexualized nature of the ritual movements that must be enacted in the center of the circle to receive the dragon god’s blessing.  The first of six such blessings, I might add.  I detailed what we must do and was met with a range of reactions, from incredulity to indifference to eager curiosity (again on Risai’s part).  Gresilda seemed to think that some of Erisaya’s rituals, and likely Yurisaya’s as well, were quite similar to what I described, and were likely of some ancient, shared origin.

Once we had debated what must be done, only Shassk declined to participate, stating that as a drakonae, he was already quite devoted to his draconic ancestors, and would have no trouble entering the vault once it was unlocked to the rest of us.  He said it with such conviction that I dared not say anything to the contrary; I know little of the drakonae and their modern religious practices, so I took him at his word. 

I won’t detail the nature of the ritual in my journal; that has already been done in my notes regarding the entirety of this expedition and the draconic city ruins, but needless to say, I remained the only one to be highly frustrated through shear arousal after the event, though my accessories did not hinder the ritual’s completion.  When it was done, the runes on the stones glowed and pulsed with the primal essence coursing through the earth beneath us, and we received the blessing as promised, a singular draconic rune upon our foreheads that roughly translates as “One Seeking Enlightenment”, which then faded from sight after a few moments.

Following another night’s rest, we would take the route Shassk had discovered that led to the southeast, hoping to finish a second ritual at the next site before returning to Vindinium to resupply before we continued our pilgrimage to the other locations that remained hidden from us. 

If only things had remained so simple as that.

#Lore24 – Entry #319 – Fantasy Month IV #14 – Seeking the First Standing Stones

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

The following morning found our way northerly blocked not only by the increasingly difficult terrain, but by thick fog rolling down from the mountains that we neared.  Shassk and Risai were especially nervous as we continued forward, given the way the fog tended to muffle sound in addition to its severe reduction in our line of sight, making for a nasty ambush.  Ellisar and Korvalis remained vigilant as well, given their keen elven hearing, and Gresilda and I kept our usual conversation to a minimum.  Thankfully the map that I had pulled from the dragon’s vault door gave us a rough idea of where we needed to go, and what I had suspected was once a massive roadway proved to be more navigable than we’d initially found closer to the temple proper, though it had been severely overgrown and in some places filled with what I assumed may have been buried remains of destroyed buildings that had once been party of the massive city, or perhaps signs of geological upheaval.

Thankfully it seemed that no hostile forces called our immediate route theirs and, as midday approached, the fog began to thin out, the sky overhead clearing from the recent storms.  The air was brisk in this area, but as we topped a rise, we could see a definite route through the rocky hills that was almost as straight as an arrow’s shaft between the hills, forming a definite, if heavily wooded, valley.  Passing into the valley, we remained alert, for there were once again signs of animals here, including a recent dear kill that was mostly consumed, most likely by wolves.  Perhaps a mile or so further on there were signs of humanoid habitation, for we found the remnants of a cooking fire and remnants of wood shavings; the tracks Shassk picked out of the soft earth indicated kobolds.

Perhaps two hours later, following a rest at midday, we saw further signs that there were kobolds nearby.  There were more tracks, and we found no less than half a dozen tribal totems, showing that there were at least two tribes of them in the area.  Knowing that the creatures tended to favor darkness and wouldn’t likely attack during the day, we resolved to pick up our pace, hoping perhaps that we could clear their territory before nightfall.  Korvalis moved up to ride with Shassk during this time, keeping his attention on the ground and trees, cautious of the simple but deadly traps kobolds were known for.  Indeed, he guided us around no less than four pit traps and sent us around two deadfall traps that would have sent boulders down upon us. 

As evening approached, we topped another smaller rise and crossed into a rockier region.  We found a suitably defensive position to set up camp, a covered depression in the hillside with some suitable cover from nearby boulders that would provide us some cover.  Ellisar set up several wards around us to alert us if intruders came, and we had a cold meal that evening, forgoing a fire, and fell into fitful rest. 

The kobolds attacked in the early morning hours, while Korvalis was on watch.  I had learned that he was quite comfortable in the dark by this time, practically became one with it when he wanted to.  He had already taken down three of the yipping attackers from his hidden nook above our encampment by the time we got to our feet.  Though we did not escape unscathed, our injuries were not deadly, thanks to Gresilda’s care afterwards, for the kobold weapons were coated with what was likely spider venom, which created a notable lethargy in those of us who received wounds.  We resolved to rest until first light, wary of another attack, then head out on our path northward. 

The kobolds attacked again as dawn approached, this time lobbing crudely made, but nonetheless effective fire bottles our way.  A quick application of conjured water from myself and Gresilda doused the first burst of flames that would have trapped us within our nook, and we rode out quickly, our well-trained horses trampling the small forms of the dog-like kobolds who appeared in front of us.  More fire sprang up around us, and Ellisar returned the favor with one of his wands, sending an explosive fireball into the midst of the attacking creatures, scattering those that weren’t blown apart or ignited into hiding long enough for us to clear out and continue north.  Perhaps the use of such magic would discourage further pursuit, but we weren’t especially hopeful and remained on guard.

Indeed, we would suffer three more kobold attacks as we continued on our path that day, from three different tribes it seemed, all of whom were quite hungry for our blood.  Word must have spread quickly amongst them, and no doubt the hills around us were honeycombed with kobold warrens that they used to pursue us, coming out of well-hidden crevasses to strike at us.  Their tactics adapted as well, for they began to target our horses, and then started trying to slow us and pincer us between them and drive us toward traps they had prepared ahead of time.  I knew that they were quite crafty, but experiencing their cunning firsthand was certainly an enlightening experience.

Haggard and bloodied, our spell reserves low and our fatigue high, bearing more wounds than we had hoped, we trudged forward as fast as we could.  Indeed, the “armor” gifted me by Lady Armenia proved quite capable of defending me, its enchantments reducing the effectiveness of the kobold weaponry as if I wore something akin to chainmail or scale armor, perhaps.  After the final attack in the late afternoon, near sunset, we passed into a circular valley marked by more kobold totems, though these, Shassk said, were warnings to go no further, marking the end of their territory.  Not far after these, the air changed, at once unnaturally calm yet filled with an undeniable, palpable energy. 

This was undoubtedly a site of great power.  We had arrived at our destination intact.  We had found the standing stones.

#Lore24 – Entry #318 – Fantasy Month IV #13 – A Most Intriguing Puzzle

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

I studied the draconic ruins for several days, spending much of the time on the massive door that marked a sealed vault of some kind beyond, but venturing into other sections of the ruin when I needed to refresh myself, though never without the adventurers close by should I come upon something quite dangerous.  It seemed almost as if the energy of the ruin, the essence of the dragons that once dwelt within still lingered in some way, keeping those beings and creatures not possessed of higher thoughts away.  Though perhaps it would be our folly to explore within; only time would tell.

Regardless, I translated most of the text upon the door (some of the high draconic phrases are still not entirely clear) and interpreted the imagery upon it as best as I could given my knowledge of the ancient dragons, based upon the notes I have made over the years in previous journals stored within my personal pocket library.  I wish that I had additional volumes at my disposal, those found within the Great Library itself, but only texts which I have personally transcribed are permitted within this pocket dimension, or journals I have yet to fill with my knowledge and experiences. 

Still, the nature of the vault door is similar to what has been encountered in other draconic sites.  This place was once a city, though was treated more as a holy temple by those who worshipped the dragons that dwelt here, its name translated as “The Cathedral of Eminent Tranquility”, once ruled by the golden dragon known as Mega-kuramu’Koganekami, whose many titles and alternate epithets have been transcribed within my research notes, for there are over two dozen of them.  Curiously the name is very close to what would become the kerryn script and language (however forbidden they might be to speak within the Empire, making knowledge of it exceptionally rare here), translating as “Blinding Golden God.”

Contained within the vault, supposedly, are the favored relics of this dragon, as well as collections of its vast wisdom and knowledge, though the wards upon the door prevent it from being opened by anyone who is not a worshipper of the dragon or who has not undergone a trial to prove their devotion to it.  Comparing the map of the vast temple-city, an empire unto itself, with the maps of the region now known as the Wildlands, I believe that I have managed to find some similar geographic features that may potentially lead us to discovering a method of opening this door, assuming the places of power still exist and still hold the primal essence of the dragons within, of course.  Even I am tempted by the potential treasures that lie within, more so the knowledge of the ancient dragons, but to study pristine relics of their time would be an incredible opportunity.  The Heroes of Vindinium are certainly keen on getting inside, the promise of wealth beyond imagination so very tempting.

As to what must be done, there should be six sites spread across the region in a pentagonal arrangement, laid out to form a five-pointed star, with the sixth site located directly within its center, and, based upon my translations, each site must be visited as part of a pilgrimage of sorts, and rituals performed at them to gain the blessings of the draconic god to be allowed to enter into its sacred space.  Comparing ancient to modern maps, I can roughly approximate the locations of three of the sites where these standing stones should be and can assume rough distances toward the others based upon the equal distances between points, though I know not of the lands further south and west of here.

The nearest of these standing stones should be to the north of here, perhaps two days travel given the rougher terrain, though it could take us longer depending on just how reclaimed the area is by nature.  We’ll be setting off in the morning to see if we can locate the site and see if its power still remains; the fact that the door itself still holds its warding is encouraging, but far from conclusive.

#Lore24 – Entry #311 – Fantasy Month IV #6 – The Journey to the Wildlands

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

I heard Lady Armenia rise early the next morning, for I was already awake, still squirming helplessly and uselessly attempting to sate the very intense and unrelenting desire within myself and my new member.  To put it quite bluntly, I was a sweating, quivering, moaning mess that morning, having had almost no sleep, my uselessly balled hands having spent much of the night in their vain quest to stimulate my caged penis into achieving some kind of release as it swelled and strained against the unrelenting mythril cage that held it entrapped.  The stiffness and tightness of my attire had done less than nothing to induce any feelings of relaxation as well, leaving me quite discomforted by morning.

I was left to stew for some time yet, until Lady Armenia had gotten herself dressed and prepared for the journey with the aid of one of her attendants, who, I am quite sure, was not subject to the same magical transformation as me, nor was she forced to wear such strict attire, just the common servants clothes.  Soon enough, however dazed I was, I was assisted to rise, and Lady Armenia once again took hold of my leash to lead me along, once my hands were properly restrained behind my back of course.  It was to the courtyard she led me, where her team of drakonae waited, each carrying backpacks fit for a long journey, and armed with recurve bows and short swords and hunting knives. 

Lady Armenia told me that the rest of her entourage awaited us in Scarbantia, and for a moment I was absolutely mollified, for it would take us at least two weeks of travel to reach the distant city by carriage, and perhaps another week or more to reach the edge of the Empire, depending on the exact region she intended to visit.  With my lack of sleep and constant horny distraction having addled my senses, I had failed to observe the presence of a teleportation circle, which I only noticed when the marker stones were activated and began glowing, filling the area with their magic aura. 

Indeed, once the party had appeared on the corresponding circle in Scarbantia, still in that most dark period before dawn this far west, I saw no less than three wagons and a carriage that would only have been Lady Armenia’s, as well as several mounted Imperial soldiers, at least two dozen from my count.  She immediately led me toward the waiting carriage, and with some help from her drakonae, I was loaded inside like so much baggage and maneuvered onto one of the bench seats, and then we were off at a brisk pace once Lady Armenia had settled herself.  Being the wife of General Komides, I suppose I should have suspected such a force to protect her.

Our journey would take us southwest, she told me, and we would visit the last Wayrest tonight before starting down the Malarshaw Road to the region that held the curious ruin she was so interested in, a trip that, with the numbers in our party, would take approximately eight days, not accounting for bad weather or other delays.  The look upon her face when she told me that we would be getting to know one another quite intimately during this period was absolutely devilish, and not merely because of her red skin, upward curving horns, and sharp teeth. 

As the formation settled into a proper travelling pace, Lady Armenia settled herself upon the bench next to me, easing me over to lean against her, and wrapped one arm around me, her hands once again exploring and teasing my breasts, giving special attention to my new rings, tugging and flipping them idly as we continued on.  Her tail, quite serpentine in its behavior, snaked around my waist and wrapped itself around the infernal cage and my quite sensitive new anatomy, the sharp tip poking through the mythril prison just hard enough to make me jump each time, while the wrapped tail squeezed and massaged.  Her lips found my ear, as did her tongue, and her teeth, for she nibbled and teased occasionally, all the while I whimpered, moaned, and pleaded through the phallic feeder gag for some kind of release.

Some time later, as the sun began to rise, Lady Armenia granted me a great mercy, finally bringing her teasing to an end, at least for the time being.  She continued to hold me close, her hands massaging soreness from my body as they explored it, and she told me to be at ease, to find peace in her embrace, and to rest.  I sensed her working the charm, but did not resist as the sleeping enchantment overtook me, falling into a deep and blissful slumber, in spite of the decidedly erotic dreams I would have.

I would not awaken until after noon that day, feeling refreshed if not any freer than I had been.  In fact, I was more restrained, having been secured into the seat by no less than six stout leather straps that I hadn’t realized were there.  As I stirred, Lady Armenia looked hungrily upon me from the opposite side of the carriage, making me squirm.  Though she was of high rank in society, she still wore the attire of a priestess, though in silks rather than more common materials, and her accessories were of gold and silver.  I squirmed, straining against the straps to no avail, as I tried to put distance between us.

She laughed then, a surprise to be sure, and returned to my side of the carriage, this time straddling my restrained form, pressing her knees against my hips and resting upon my legs.  She removed my gag before she started playing with my breasts again, hooking the claws of her thumbs into the nipple rings to tug or twist.  We spoke for some time as we continued along the road, mostly with her asking me questions about my time at the Library, and then focusing more upon my experiences with the lewd and erotic when my responses proved to be rather mundane.  She seemed rather pleased that I was so inexperienced in so much that she promised to show me in excruciating detail once we were safely to our destination, and some on the road beforehand.  Of our night at the Wayrest she seemed to be most excited, however she kept those details hidden at the time.

Perhaps it was the lingering, unending arousal I had experienced since my “recruitment” into her service that clouded my usually reasonable mind, or perhaps her mazoku nature had done so…or perhaps my inquisitive nature had evolved in the months I had spent tutoring her son and experiencing a rather abundant amount of pleasures at the hands of his kerryn slave Ryona, some at his behest, others all of her own devising.  Regardless of the cause, I found myself excited for these experiences, even though I had little choice in the matter.  Though…I had the sense that if I had been unwilling to participate in any of her games, Lady Armenia would not have forced me into anything I truly did not wish to participate in. 

She ended our question-and-answer time before I could ask her anything in return (I am beginning to think my Lady Armenia might just be a little unfair in her dealings…), deigning it time for my mouth to practice at something else that didn’t involve speech.  I was released from the bench and guided to the floor of the carriage, and this time, with her holding the leash, I was first to busy my tongue in cleaning her fine leather boots.  Fortunately for me, she had yet to exit the carriage on this day, so the leather was quite pristine, though certainly not my preferred flavor, even though it may have been Lady Armenia’s.  Following this, I had to undo the laces with my teeth before she removed her boots, thus allowing me to partake of her rather aromatic and sweaty, stocking-clad feet.  Translated, she held her feet before me and pulled my leash between them, forcing my face into them, where I was “allowed” to breathe of her essence for a time, before my tongue was once again “allowed” to explore them.

Throughout this worshipful ordeal, my nipple rings were constantly abuzz, as was the ring at the base of the cage surrounding my dribbling cock, which strained quite uncomfortably inside that unforgiving device.  I had sought to inquire with Lady Armenia about what I should do with the constantly leaking nature of my restricted asset, but she seemed not the least bit concerned by it, for her foot was soon teasing it again, only this time, after she had finally used both feet upon it, squeezing and teasing the swollen testes between her soles, she bade me clean them off.  I suppose that’s another entry on the list of things I had not expected to experience this week…

She seemed quite eager for more, but insisted she was restraining herself, saving herself, really, for tonight once we reached the Wayrest.  She replaced her boots upon her feet and decided that she too would nap, once more securing me to my place on the bench and replacing my feeder gag before she lay back on the other side of the carriage, but not before she gave me a long kiss upon my gag-covered lips.  She seemed rather restless for a time, her hands finding their way to her own breasts and between her legs, only for her to jerk them away suddenly, though she finally settled down into sleep.  A curious observation, though one that would make sense later…mostly.

At least the windows were open, allowing me to see the passing countryside as we rode onward.  It would have been a dreadfully boring time otherwise; thankfully the Wayrest was only another couple of hours away.

#Lore24 – Entry #310 – Fantasy Month IV #5 – To Serve Lady Armenia

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

Though I was left hanging in the dungeon for some time, I would find little in the way of respite from Lady Armenia’s machinations.  The new devices and…anatomy…which she had equipped me with proved to be every bit as capable of keeping me in a lustful daze as the lady herself.  And yes, I must now refer to her as “Lady Armenia” during my entries, for she insists upon me calling her that in person and says I should do so in my writings as well to continue to show her proper respects. 

Once I was finally released from my bondage and allowed to bathe, I found little relief.  I of course probed my caged cock…I doubt I shall ever find writing that to be anything close to normal…finding its continued sensitivity to be maddening, only compounded by the tightness of the cage it was now confined within, sealed by magic that I dare not attempt to break, as it is a surprisingly strong enchantment with layers of magic that I could not identify that was likely of a very punishing nature.  It seems that every minor touch to my cock sends a shiver through me; I can only begin to wonder if all men must deal with such issues, or if it is the magic or simply the newness of mine that makes it so difficult to deal with.  I am not entirely sure how the transformation magic works, either, as it is beyond my ability to replicate, my female genitalia completely replaced by this new organ, though my breasts remain intact…if perhaps somewhat larger now, and perhaps more sensitive as well.  I am assured by Lady Armenia that all will be returned to normal upon the completion of my service with her, “should I desire it to be so.”

I am still uncertain as to my feelings on this situation.  I am certainly angry, though I likewise find certain fascination with it all.  My initial outrage and shock have faded, though Lady Armenia still finds ways to rile me up each and every day.  She has a particular knack for such things, I believe, and relishes in my discomfort. 

This is evident given her choice of my attire, for when I am with her, she is to choose what I wear.  I surmise that the nature of the contract between her and Mother is rather fluid and vague to allow such things, though Lady Armenia insists I not fret over the “frivolous details”.  It seems my hopes that I would never again wear the restrictive dress Alekos had tailored for me were in vain, for it was this very costume which Lady Armenia had chosen for me to wear, with a few minor alterations to better suit her.

The ridiculously high heeled shoes that I had originally worn with the dress were replaced in favor of even more ridiculous footwear, specifically a pair of knee-length boots which had even taller heels, these forcing my feet downward to the point that I would be walking on my toes.  It seemed Lady Armenia was quite aware of my superior agility and balance, though I would not personally have insisted upon such footwear to test my grace.  The small arcane locks on the straps at the ankles and knees to ensure I kept them on were also quite troubling. 

The tight, black leather of the dress, of a hobbling design with a high neck that was the current fashion, already quite tight as it had originally been tailored, was made even more restrictive via an enchantment that had swiftly been added to it that would resize it absolutely perfectly to my curves, making it something of a second skin.  I would also notice that two sections of the leather had been removed, namely the area that covered my breasts, and those covering my pelvic area, leaving me little in the way of decency.

Once I had managed to fit the dress upon myself, it hugged me quite tightly, leaving my breasts and pierced nipples clearly exposed, as was my ass and my new, caged anatomy.  I would find my steps limited to barely a few inches between the dress and the boots, though this would only grow somehow more restrictive when Lady Armenia insisted upon adding the stout leather corsets, these in a deep red shade, one wrapping my torso from hips to just below my breasts, the other about my neck, to be worn beneath my collar.  Already at my limits, this would prove quite the challenge to overcome, especially once the gloves were added.  These bicep-length leather gloves had been altered as well, fit with a pair of red leather cuffs at wrist and bicep, as well as having the fingers altered so that my hands were forced into fists, ensuring their uselessness. 

Making use of the cuffs to secure my arms behind my back, Lady Armenia would insist that I learn to walk properly now that I could only stand mostly straight as an arrow, further enforced by the rigid corsets, tight dress, and tall boots.  She seemed to take great delight in my suffering as, after attaching a leash to my collar, she guided me through a multitude of exercises to ensure that I would be able to walk with “the utmost grace and poise”, making liberal use of a riding crop when I faltered or did not respond to her instructions quickly enough.  The vibrations of the nipple rings, and to my horror, the cage around my cock, kept me in a constant state of distracted arousal, making my ordeal that much more difficult.  The sting of the crop against my backside and even my new anatomy made me stumble even more than the infraction that had prompted the correction, thus prompting another correction.

I would learn later the boots had been enchanted as well, making it exceptionally difficult for me to actually fall while wearing them, but I did not know that at the time, and suffered greatly because of it, though Lady Armenia certainly enjoyed my predicament.  Once our first session had ended, she guided me to her chambers in what I assumed was a private estate that she owned, her perhaps was owned by the church itself, taking a very long and very painful and quite embarrassing tour of the grounds, which included its own chapel and gardens.  There were plenty of people around, other members of the church, mostly, but some outsiders like gardeners and other visiting nobility, all of which seemed to stare at me in ways that ranged from amused, amazed, lustful, envious, shameful, and disapproving, and likely more. 

Navigating the stairs in the residence proved quite difficult, though not impossible.  I simply had to learn to hop high enough, and Lady Armenia’s crop certainly helped with motivating me to succeed on my first attempts.

I noted that it was nearly sunset by this time we came to her chambers, in which I would, in spite of my growing weariness and great soreness born of the crop, be introduced to additional services I would be required to perform for her.  With my arms released from behind my back, and the gloves magically changing from balling my fists to regular gloves, I would show her some of what I had learned from Ryona during my time with her, specifically foot massage, both with hands and tongue.  Kneeling upon the floor was a trying experience, and I only accomplished it with Lady Armenia’s aid; thankfully she did not expect me to do it on my own, anyway.

Lady Armenia’s mazoku nature only increased my intense arousal as I removed her boots, her scent and the somewhat spicy taste of her sweaty feet upon my tongue were very nearly electric, making my whole body tingle with excitement to be this close to her, and the pleasure-filled moans she made only served to heighten my need to please her, so fully enthralled by her presence was I. 

Since I could only tend one foot at a time, her other foot was constantly working to tease my caged cock, rubbing at the cage with her toes or pressing down teasingly upon my balls, causing a mixture of pain and pleasure that had me squirming with a most delightful agony.  All the while, my face burned with shame and embarrassment, though my aroused state barely changed, my nipples hard and erect, my new cock straining against the tiny cage that held it, constantly dripping as I shifted and squirmed in vain to find some kind of relief.  Perhaps it had been my desire to stay in Draconis Magna for a time that had started me down this perverse road to begin with, my body and mind now hopelessly corrupted by the pleasures of the flesh I would never have known had I stayed at the Great Library.

Lady Armenia insists that I am being overly dramatic with that last line, for she is reading over my shoulder as I write this, though has made no efforts to correct or alter what it is I write here, has even stated I have something of a talent for description of my predicament that she finds quite enjoyable. 

Once her feet had been properly pleasured and her passionate flames greatly kindled, Lady Armenia had expressed a desire to continue further, though had decided to deny her own gratification for now so that she would find even higher pleasures in the very near future.  “It is a long journey we embark upon tomorrow, after all; there will be plenty of time to educate you on the way.”  With that, my gloves were once again shifted back to the mittens that would make my hands useless, and this time  my wrists were secured in front of me as I was led to my bed, that of a maidservant in the smaller room adjacent to her chambers.  She helped me into the bed, securing my leash to a nearby ring set into the wall, and then fit me with a rather large, phallic gag harness, telling me to enjoy my rest. 

Thankfully it was a feeder gag, for I was rather famished, and I found myself greedily sucking on the warm, salty mixture that came from it, heedless of the perceived lewdness of the act.  Considering what had just befallen me, and the fact hat my hands were constantly pawing at my caged cock as I lay squirming on the bed with only the sounds of the leather creaking and my own panting moans to lull me into what could have been generously described as a “fitful slumber”, I would barely consider suckling on the penile gag that great of a perversity. 

There would be more than ample opportunity to experience even greater perversities in the very near future, as I would find out soon enough.

#Lore24 – Entry #309 – Fantasy Month IV #4 – A Lopsided Bargain

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

As I hung helplessly in the grasp of Lady Armenia, she continued to relentlessly tease my body in a way I had never experienced.  Certainly, Alekos and Ryona had teased me during our rather erotic trysts between his classes, but not like this.  The combination of her mazoku nature and her training as a Yurisayan priestess were, for lack of a better term, maddening.  She knew exactly how and where to touch me to work my body into a mess of heated lust, and exactly how to keep it right there, on the very edge of attaining the pleasures I had soon sought and thought I had lost all cravings for after I had left as Alekos’s tutor. 

I cannot know how long exactly she kept me on edge, but it could have been hours.  She practically turned my mind to jelly during the time, had even seemed to twist my body’s perception of the pain she caused by the pinches and scrapings of her claws into pleasure.  She said little during this time, at least that I can recall, only making a few comments on the pleasureful sounds and physical responses I made in response to her touch which left me feeling great shame at my lack of control.

Once I had been properly edged for this small eternity, had become even hotter and sweatier than I had in the trunk as I hung helplessly in my bindings, she finally began to tell me of the reason she had intercepted me on my way back to the Great Library.  She did perceive some slight from my leaving my tutorship early and felt that I had somehow gone against the bargain originally arranged between the Library and her.  I tried to protest this, but of course, she had yet to remove the gag, so my complaints were quite ineffectual.  She had taken it upon herself, then, to see that the full terms of my service were to be handled in a different way:  I would serve as her historical and archaeological expert on an upcoming expedition to the south-western Wildlands, to help her and her people to study some ruins that were found there, as well as several artifacts that were found within them by an adventuring party who were working to civilize the area.

She said that she had already sent word to Mother regarding this and received a positive response (though I have yet to see such correspondence), and had come to a tentative agreement for an extension of the term should my work prove satisfactory.  And, of course, there would be additional requirements that she would have of me, given how she seemed to think that I had offended her and somehow impugned the honor of her son and her family name.  I personally feel that she was being most overdramatic in this assertion and had blown it up into something much more than it was, but who am I to argue with someone of her station and power?  Who save perhaps the Emperor himself and a handful of nobles would challenge someone of her station?  And over a lowly librarian such as myself? 

I was in quite the mess, to put it mildly, and certainly, I feel, not of my own making. 

But that would not be all, for Armenia then declared that she would continue my own ‘education’ to assist me in future endeavors, to help me learn from my failures (in her mind, I contest) to understand her “dear son’s unique predicament,” as well as expand my knowledge of Yurisaya’s ways.  By this time, somewhere in my pleasure-addled brain, I’m certain that I protested this, though I can’t recall if I actually tried to form words to such effect or simply made lustful noises and wiggled in her grasp.  It has all become something of a blur in my memory, a deficiency of my own mind that I must try to correct.

She finally stopped teasing me for a few moments then, but only so that she could bring over what I would be wearing for the foreseeable future as her “assistant”; I would learn that such a term, when used by a Yurisayan priestesses, or at least, by her, was possessed of much more responsibility than those which were simply academic.  She enacted a magical ritual upon me, tracing a magical rune upon my body with her claw and some mixture she dipped her claw into, forming a magical tattoo just over my pubic mound.  This, she said, would help me to better understand her son’s difficulties in dealing with his own lustful nature.

As I couldn’t see the rune she had inscribed upon me, not that I was able to think overly clearly at the time anyway, I was somewhat worried when I felt the magic take hold, felt my body beginning to transform itself.  I recall moaning into the ball between my lips as the strange sensation of pleasure and arcane energies coursed through me.  I am not sure how long it took to finish, but once it was done, I recalled feeling an unusual weight now resting between my legs, of an unusual throbbing sensation.  I was dumbfounded when I looked down to see a sizeable penis and testes hanging there, standing quite erect, my brain simply unable to process it in the moment.

Armenia then began to stroke my new appendage, filling my body with sensations I had never experienced before.  And yet, like she had done with my natural anatomy, she quickly had me squirming and moaning, on the edge of a climax I would never experience.  I could feel myself dripping, could feel her touch so keenly through this new, sensitive part of my anatomy. 

She further added to my plight by slowly and most erotically piercing my nipples, a mix of pleasure and pain that only added to that which I experienced from my…cock.  Here she attached a pair of stout golden rings, U-shaped, and set with faintly glowing rubies at the bottom of the U.  These, I would shortly discover, would vibrate through some control device she possessed, and would serve to keep me constantly on edge.  She placed a collar about my neck as well, heavy and golden, set with a similar ruby at the neck, which sealed with a click that sounded quite ominous in my ears.  Though this looked more like a richly designed necklace, it was no doubt a collar.

With these accessories done, she teased my new member some more, driving my pleasure-haze right back to that edge, but then announced there was but one more item to complete my ensemble.  Not knowing what it could have been, nor thinking at all clearly at the time, I dazedly watched as she secured a thick, silver ring around the base of my cock and balls, then proceeded to guide a matching silver cage around it, pressing it downward, forcing my erection painfully into the confines of the cage.  With a growing sense of erotically-charged horror, I watched helplessly as the cage met the ring, the metals fusing together and growing tighter around my new anatomy. 

Armenia then squeezed my testes, flicking the cage, sending an agonizing pleasure through my tightly trapped appendage, then patted my cheek, announcing that she had finished.  I would be allowed to “enjoy” my new predicament for a while longer, and then I would be freed of my bonds so that I may clean myself up and don some “appropriate attire”, then rest before we were to set out on our journey on the morrow. 

It would prove to be an arduous and long journey, as I will detail in my next entries, though I would learn much of which I had never intended to learn along the way.

#Lore24 – Entry #294 – Sentinel City by Night #20 – Matters of Faith

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Been to several strange places all over Sentinel City, but Light’s Hope Chapel was the strangest one yet.  Hadn’t planned on stopping in, no reason to really, just happened to be in the neighborhood.  I’d continued my work, had a couple more instances where I picked up on someone following me, but never could pin them down.  Think they know that I know for sure now, so they’re being a lot more subtle about it.  Got word to Grim Jacobs via Sokolova but hadn’t heard from him or his Hounds yet.

Was on my way back from trolling for a source on the drug when I happened upon the church.  Parking lot had to have been half full, odd for this time of night, so I figured what the hell, I’d bite the bullet and stop in and see what this preacher was all about. 

Can’t say I was prepared for what I experienced when I walked into the chapel.  Heard her preaching about the works of the “Great One”, of the power found within its “pure and holy light” and the like.  The crowd was enthralled by her, don’t know if she was using one of our vampiric tricks or if she was just that damn good at preaching.  Still, noticed she wasn’t referencing God or Jesus during that sermon.

Tried to get a good look at Ausar.  Could tell she was dressed like a nun but had trouble keeping my eyes on her.  Hadn’t felt this kind of sensation…ever.  My skin tingled as I hit the rear pews, not painfully so, but I couldn’t keep from squirming, kinda like that feeling I got that time back in San Diego when I was nearly caught outdoors on a late night and felt the dawn creeping up on me.  Had to avert my eyes when she picked up her cross and brandished it over the crowd, the candlelight glinting off the gold just too intense for me.  I wasn’t even using my heightened senses.  Then I got the bright idea to read her aura.

Was damn near blinded by the light radiating off her, pure, golden…holy.  I’d never seen that before, had to quickly shut that off and rub my eyes, but still couldn’t get the after images to clear for a good while.  I’d never come across this before, but I knew instinctively what it was.  True faith. It might not have been in the god that cursed us Kindred, but whatever it was, Ausar had the utmost unshakeable belief in it, and I’d wager her flock believed in it just as much as she did. 

And here I thought I got hyper-obsessed with my work sometimes…

That was probably the most uncomfortable twenty minutes of my unlife; just kept waiting for my skin to burst into flames under the power of ‘the Light’, and though I’d thought to leave, I couldn’t make myself get up.  Fact that I’m writing this means I made it out, of course, and not even a sunburn to show for it.

Ausar’s intensity faded once she’d wrapped up her sermon, thankfully.  I kept my distance while she mingled with her flock, but eventually, once they had started to file out, she came up to me.  She seemed every bit the true believer she presented herself as, a fervor in her that I’d almost call a mania, barely contained.  Still had trouble keeping eye contact with her, kept feeling like I was transgressing or something.  Damn strange sensation.  She apologized for it, though, said those like me with increased senses often struggled around her at first.  Won’t go into too much detail about what we discussed; I’ve never been the type to be especially religious, but a little food for thought never hurt anyone. 

Wasted damn near the whole night chatting with her, though; tried to wiggle out of it, but something about her kept drawing me back in.  Definitely counting this one amongst the strangest nights in my life…so far, anyway.  Who knows what tomorrow may bring?  By the end of it, she’d extended an invitation for me to share her haven if I didn’t wish to go home, an offer I respectfully declined, but likewise advised me to keep her in mind should I require guidance in spiritual matters and even if I should find myself in need of healing.  Not so sure I wanted to be touched by those hands of hers or not given that her presence alone was enough to make my skin crawl. 

Ankara Ausar is something else.  That’s all I can really say.  Don’t know if that’s holy fervor and her faith guiding her or some kind of madness.  Maybe both.  She is a fellow Malkavian, after all.  We’re all known to have our moments of lunacy, just have to wonder if she’s living in hers all the damn time or if I caught her on a lucid night.”

#Lore24 – Entry #226 – Helica Month #14 – Separating the Strong from the Weak

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

When it comes to summoners and their Crusades, I was told by Esekia upon our arrival on the island of Vallalava that Cinza had a way of separating the weak from the strong.  Like the element of fire with which he is associated, the Amaranth is very temperamental and hard to tame.  Sometimes his displeasure with a summoner’s attempts to tame him even translates to the volcano the island is known for, which will belch smoke and send tremors through the surrounding jungle and village.  Those summoners who are not secure in their mastery of the art will often find their Crusades ending upon the slopes of Mount Vallalava within the Amaranth’s temple.  Though there are officially no limits to the number of attempts a summoner may make to tame the Amaranth, those who must try twice are looked down upon as weak in faith, and those who must try a third time are regarded as failures even if they succeed, finding their journeys ahead much more difficult as word spreads of their weakness of spirit.

Thus far, there are no records of any summoners of note surpassing the challenge on four or more attempts.

Even the journey to Cinza’s temple is often fraught with danger, for while there is an established path through the jungle, there are wild beasts that can suddenly attack an unwary party, and there are several river crossings that can be flooded or have their bridges washed out, resulting in significant delays.  Very much the contrast to the temple at Ukejama, though certainly fitting given the Amaranth’s temperament.

With these worries firmly in mind, Esekia would nonetheless await his turn, watching as many summoners would struggle and fail to tame Cinza on their first try, losing face amongst their peers as they sequestered themselves within the private chambers of the temple to reaffirm their faith in Phyresis and bolster their will for a second attempt. 

I would spend time practicing my own magic with Zubayr in the jungle near to the temple (there were so many summoners and Stalkers about that there was little need for us to be by Esekia constantly, and it would be several days before he would make his attempt).  During the course of this latest training, I would make use of a staff obtained from a trader in the village, as I would likely not find a runic blade outside of the mainland, perhaps in San Granalle, though since its destruction, that was unlikely.  Still, I hard progressed far enough along that I could successfully hit my targets with focused magic, qualifying as having mastered the basic rank of elemental attack spells.  Zubayr was satisfied with my progress, though he remarked that the strength he sensed within me had increased at a faster pace than normal.  Again, I wondered if this was due to the blessing I had been bestowed.