Tharon, champion of Bren, War King of the arena, and of late General of King Sanye’s armies groaned as he woke from strange dreams and a troubled sleep.
What he found as he woke was not much of an improvement.
The half armor and fighting leathers he wore were gone, as were the soft underclothes he wore. His legs and arms were bound with leather and chain, and the symbol of Bren normally worn round his neck had been taken and hung before him as if a taunt.
Strangest of all were the runes that seemed to be painted onto his body in twisting patterns, the color an odd purplish hue that felt oddly familiar. Perhaps like something he’d drank after the war council last night…?
"Ahhh. I see you’re awake! Good!” The voice was like nails being driven into Tharon’s ears, and as he turned his head he could see a spindly shape moving in the shadows. Humanoid, lithe, but too thin…and too many legs.
As the darkness parted, Tharon took in a sharp breath. The legs, the abdomen, the fangs, the black, twisted crown…this was Abbal, the Spider-Queen. This was who besieged their Kingdom, enslaving villages and burning fields in her wake. Her face, though? It was familiar.
“The serving girl?”
Abbal gave a delighted little squeal as she pressed her upper hands together. “Oh, it’s so FUN when they figure it out! It almost makes it a shame that I have to make you forget later.”
Tharon glowered. “No matter what foul trick you use, I will not-”
Abbal held up a finger, and one of the small runes began to glow. “I’m sorry, you were saying?”
Tharon blinked. “I…was…I will not…I won’t…something? I…”
“Forgot?” Abbal clicked her mandibles softly as she clucked her tongue.
“A common problem after tasting my venom,” she murmured, lightly stroking the side of his face. “At least, until you become…accustomed to it.”
Tharon’s mind was becoming fuzzy, but he didn’t like the sound of that.
“If I don’t break free of this first.”
Abbal laughed again and twisted her finger in a spiral motion, another set of runes coming to life.
“Are you so sure that’s what you want to do?”
Tharon shuddered as pleasure filled him, making him swell and ache.
“I NEED TO CUM,” Tharon shouted desperately, shivering in his bonds.
“Then cum for me, pet.”
Tharon’s head fell back against the table as the bliss flooded through his body, eyes closing as the waves of ecstasy crashed over them again and again.
They didn’t see the remaining runes begin to glow, or the way Mistress Abbal was smiling contently as she watched their body reshape itself at her command. They didn’t even remember their name, or why they were tied up. All they knew was the pleasure.
The pleasure took them somewhere soft and warm, deep within themselves. A place where they had no responsibilities or duties except to savor the bliss, and to let their mind empty while Mistress whispered truth into their ears.
“Now then…wake up, darling.”
Thera groaned softly as her mind slowly rose back from that warm place inside her deepest self, and opened her eyes to see her Queen standing over her.
“Good girl. How do you feel?”
“Mm. Still sleepy, but good.”
Thera looked down at herself to see she was marked with her Mistress’ magic, naked, and bound to a table.
“Did you have fun, My Queen?”
Queen Abbal giggled, and it made Thera’s heart skip a few beats. She was beautiful, yes, but her Mistress was so *cute* sometimes!
“You’ve been very good for me,” the Queen confirmed. “I just need you to do one thing before we let you up.”
Blushing from the praise, Thera nodded. “Of course, My Queen.”
“Do you see the pendant hanging there?”
She thought it was a symbol one of the Gods they worshipped in these hands. Bren? Brum? Brat? Something like that, anyway.
“I’m going to release your hand,” Abbal explained. “Try to take it.”
Thera reached up once her hand was free, expecting to feel cool metal. She hissed with pain the moment her fingers touched the symbol, releasing it with a soft gasp.
“Mm. As I expected,” Abbal murmured. “Let me see your hand.”
Thera dutifully offered it to her, trying not to wince as her Queen examined the burned and blistered skin.
“I have a salve to treat this in my chambers,” Abbal noted. “But in the meantime…”
A whisper of Magic, and a gentle kiss of fangs made the pain grow distant, and Thera melted back into the table while the rest of her restraints were undone.
“Come, my General. I’ll tend your wound.”
Thera happily stood to follow, eyes drawn to the swaying of her Queen’s hips and abdomen as she was lead out of her dungeon. Her Mistress would tend the wound and lovingly bind it in her silks as so many others had been. Thera would repay her kindness with loving devotion, and once her Queen was satisfied, a good night’s sleep before they would get back to work.
“King Sanye won’t know what hit him tomorrow,” she promised.
“No,” Abbal agreed with a chuckle. “At least not for very long…”