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Slaves of the Illithid (Morathor and Kaybee)

He hovered at the back of Fiera's mind, silently observing as she reported to her friends, gauging their defenses from the outside. He kept involvement minimal, unwilling to risk discovery, mostly expending nothing more than the willpower needed to monitor the locations of the little party while he moved several groups of orcs into position.

The ambush sites were carefully plotted. The first was set at a bend, and as the party approached, the orcs ambled along as though they were on a long patrol rather than waiting for just the right moment. Some might almost find it comical how they stepped out in front, halted in surprise, and waited a fullsecond before 'realizing' they were being faced with intruders and bellowing war cries as they charged the group.

Conveniently, the long hallway they'd just come from also gave them a perfect avenue of retreat, and after the first few fell within seconds, the remainder broke and ran, shouting insults even as they fled the battle.

The Illithid smirked as he watched Leilah's emotions roil, and turned to planning the next ambush, making equally sure to leave his forces an escape route for that one as well.
 
When the orcs fled, Leilah leaped over the fallen and began to give chase--nearly rounding the bend before Elyssa called out to her. "Wait!"

Leilah turned back, confused, and gestured down the tunnel. "They'll get away!"

"We'll have to let them--"

"They'll warn the rest. We've been trying to avoid that, yeh?"

"We have, but if our alternative is following them blindly down winding halls..." Elyssa shook her head. "There's too big a risk of rounding a corner and finding yourself face to face with an entire squadron. Not unlike what happened to these." She gestured at the orcs that they had managed to cut down before the rest fled. "We need to proceed cautiously, even if that means giving up the element of surprise. Now, come on."

Leilah huffed with frustration. "Fine, if tha's how you want to do it." She turned and stalked down the hall, still taking the lead by several paces but not leaving the others behind.
 
He prodded at Leilah's mind, gently stoking the little spark of frustration the encounter had lit. Keeping up the appearance of having only been warned, the next group of orcs had settled at an ambush point, a larger section of cavern where a few ramshackle wooden platforms lent groups of archers elevation with which to rain arrows down on the group while melee fighters charged to keep them busy. Fiera could scout ahead to 'find' the ambush point, lending the adventurers an edge in battle, but the Mind Flayer had little doubt anything short of a full army could truly stand a good chance against them, and with the power they had displayed he knew that even that might not be enough alone.

Compared to the orcs, these women were simply on a level of their own, which made the prospect of taking them all the more tantalizing.

He gave Leilah's anger another light nudge, teasing the fury higher with a subtle push even as he had the orcs arrange themselves to ensure that the last half dozen should be able to make the escape tunnel with ease...
 
Leilah was pacing restlessly. They had stopped, again, to let Fiera scout ahead, again, wasting so much time when they should have been pressing on. Even though Fiera's absence was much briefer than before, it seemed to stretch on forever. And she was getting out her papers and charcoal again, which meant a much more detailed report than Leilah had time for. So she paced; she didn't even realize she was inching further down the tunnel, away from her allies, until Elyssa called for her to stop. She returned to the group in a huff, tried to pay attention to the quick review of Fiera's floor plan, and finally, finally they were moving again.

It wasn't long at all before they found the enemy, arranged more or less as the map had anticipated. Lienna took the lead, sweeping the room with gusts of winds that tore the unsteady platforms asunder, dumping the archers roughly on the ground. Before they could recover their footing, the sorceress conjured ice to encase or impale them. Then she sagged against the door frame, panting heavily, as Elyssa and Leilah charged to meet the melee fighters who were already advancing on them.

The fight dragged on a little longer than the one before it, long enough for a thin sheen of sweat to cover Leilah's limbs, but it wasn't enough to give her the rush of adrenaline she craved, let alone the exhaustion she would need to sleep easy tonight. And once again, some of the enemy slipped away, no doubt to prepare another ambush, just as unsatisfying as this one. And still they waited. Lienna had burned through a lot of power in her initial assault, and needed to catch her breath. Which... was a perfectly good reason to wait, Leilah had to admit, but there was still so much to do, and she couldn't handle just standing here!

Even if she weren't as distracted as she was, Leilah would not have noticed how closely Fiera was watching her. Observing without drawing attention was one skill Fiera could take pride in. ...if you want to push her now, I think I can keep the other two distracted long enough for her to slip away.
 
He pondered a moment, holding his mental picture of the caverns in his mind's eye. "A little further, there is somewhere the others can rest, see if you can lead them there before you offer to 'search' for Leilah." It was an easily defended little cavern not far from where they were, and difficult to find as well. Spacious, sloping, it even had a small underground river flowing slowly through it. Only the fact that it was not nearly central enough to his territory had kept it from claiming it once upon a time.

While he showed Fiera the way to the little cavern camp, he split his attention in turn to guide two orcs back towards the recuperating adventurers and the restless third of their number. Once more he applied pressure to Leilah's mind, amplifying the frustration and restless urgency in her thoughts. There was an interesting lever there, a simple cross of wires that could turn the violent urges into sexual ones, but he left that alone for now. It could always be tweaked later to bring the brawler into line more quickly, using it early could tip his hand.

No, over action could wait for now. He pushed Leilah again, urging her to wander a little. They could be hiding nearby. Maybe watching us to spring a pincer attack later. He primed the orcs as well, skittish, startled. When they met, the greenskins ran without a word Maybe I can chase them back to their camp. Easy thoughts, too simple to be easily noticed as he plied her recklessness and bloodlust with the promise of a potential fight.

After that, it was just a matter of helping her mind to avoid thinking about how much further she was getting from her companions, and guiding the orcs as they led her on a merry chase, deeper and deeper into his domain. How best to break you... He mused silently to himself.
 
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Leilah didn't consider herself the brightest girl; she'd had no formal schooling, and didn't have the patience to think things through most of the time. But she noticed there was something different about the orcs. Before they had fought to the death; now they fled, leaving the battles short and unfulfilling, and filling Leilah with worry as they kept slipping away. To where? For what? What were they planning? She knew something was different, but she didn't know what it meant, and that made her more paranoid than usual.

When the two orcs stumbled upon them, and fled instantly, Leilah gave chase without a thought. She was barely aware of Elyssa and Lienna calling out after her. She had to follow them, get to the bottom of this, get a good godsdamned fight out of all this. She yearned for the rush of adrenaline and the weary ache in her muscles when it faded. But first she needed a real challenge.

What she found, was more orcs. A dozen or so. They were not ideal odds, but not impossible either. It would be safer to let Lienna thin their numbers, but Lienna had fallen behind and Leilah didn't care much right now about safe. She charged into the group, weaving expertly through their ranks, harassing the massive beasts with light blows without standing still long enough for them to get a hold of her, waiting for one to do something big and sloppy that would open them up to a lethal blow.

Elsewhere, the rest pursued their restless companion, but without too much trouble Fiera took the lead of that group and, with a few wrong turns, led them quite astray. They wouldn't be bothering Leilah; not in time to save her, anyway.
 
While psychokinetic might alone had been enough to handle Fiera, orks were simply more suited to the physical match that would be needed to handle Leilah. The Mindflayer leafed through her thoughts while the greenskins attacked from all side, forcing her to split her attention. Most interesting... Memories... He could see old conditioning but it was buried under layers upon layers of defenses. Piercing them by brute force would be a fool's task, so he commanded the orcs to change tactics.

They fell back a little, fighting more strategically. Each time one exposed himself for an attack, another would be ready to take advantage of the opening her counter would leave while he dug into her memories, seeking levers closer to the surface that he could pull. Seeking the memories of what had placed that conditioning so deep within her so long ago and reaching into them, overlaying the very orks she was fighting against into the scenes in her mind. No longer merely images of the past, but now also promises of a possible future.

Overreaching... Out of room... Out of sight... Where have the others gone?

They won't come for you.

Fiera was already leading the other two on a merry course, he had plenty of time to work.
 
Leilah grimaced as the orcs suddenly shifted tactics, becoming cautious, covering each others' openings in ways they hadn't before. That was a challenge, but one she could deal with; that wasn't what bothered her. Something was wrong, something about the way they were acting, but she couldn't explain it. It might just have been her restless nerves feeding into her paranoia.

An orc lunged to grab her; she knew another was moving in, ready to strike when she made her counter, but she was confident she could time it right, shatter the first one's ribs and dance away before the second could get to her. She just had to duck under the hand reaching towards her head--

A hand reached towards her, massive from her perspective as a child, clamping roughly around her head. That discomfort she could have born; it was what came next that terrified her. She didn't know what it was her master was actually doing when he grabbed her like this, she just knew it made every nerve in her body light up. It wasn't painful, exactly, but it was overwhelming, and it left her feeling exhausted, feeling hollowed out.

The memory only gave her pause for a fraction of a second, but that was enough to throw off her timing. The orc's meaty hand brushed against her hair, and she strained not to shudder. She ducked away from the second orc, throwing a half-hearted punch at the first as she did. The angle was wrong, the timing was wrong, and it wouldn't do more than bruise, but it was all she could do right now without getting caught.

She took a step back from the orcs, gaining just enough distance to catch her breath, re-assess the situation. Without thinking, she reached a hand up to her throat. There was no collar there, she reassured herself; Elyssa had cut it off years ago, and slain the man whose will it had bound Leilah to. She couldn't be controlled anymore. She held on to that thought as she drew towards the orcs, throwing cautious strikes to wear them down without opening herself up too much. But her mind wavered as her knuckles connected with flesh.

She could feel the boy's jaw shattering beneath her knuckles, his entire face caving in around her fist. She knew that it was very possible he would die from such a blow. That even if he didn't, he would never get the care he would need to heal correctly. Leilah knew, but she felt nothing. It wasn't as though she had a choice.

When she had first been captured, she had fought with everything she had. Screaming, thrashing, attempting to flee at every turn. But there was no point; with a single word, her master would command her obedience, mind and body. She had long since given up on fighting back, and he hadn't used the collar's magic in over a year.

Another distraction, this one more costly, as a meaty fist caught her in the jaw. She went limp, rolling with the punch and letting it push her aside, but the feeling of his knuckles against her cheek made her skin crawl. She ended up skidding to a halt near another orc, who stepped towards her cautiously; Leilah danced around him, but her footing was off, her nerves frayed, and as she slipped past him, her hip slid against his thigh--

She was on her hands and knees, stripped down to gloves and socks, rocking back and forth slightly with each sharp thrust of her master's hips. Her mouth hung open, and the wet slaps of his skin against hers were almost drowned out by the strangled yelps that escaped her throat each time. He had begun using her like this ever since Leilah had started to develop a woman's curves--relieving stress, he said. It was always like this, gruff and functional. Sometimes he used the other hole, and Leilah couldn't tell if it was on purpose or if he just didn't care to distinguish between them. It didn't matter, though; despite the pain, her body responded just the same. Heat, wetness. About half the time she came, but when he finished it was over.

Leilah backed away from the orcs again, mortified to feel a subtle but familiar heat rising in her body, moisture beginning to gather inside her.
 
Weak... Sloppy... Not good enough...

He could feel her starting to break down under the pressure of near misses, the ghosts of the past reflected in the actions of the present. If they could just lay a hand on her, cut off her speed, take away her leverage, she'd lose.

Of course, Leilah was still winning the fight for the moment. The gap between her and her assailants was considerable, and only the carefully coordinated tactics his mental presence enforced gave them any chance of success. Alone, they would have been downed in minutes, tripping over each other as they assaulted her, making themselves easy prey for the nimble fighter. With him, they fought a battle of attrition, a battle they had been slowly losing at first, but one that was slowly shifting, turning like the tide and gaining more and more ground, inexorably bearing down on her.

What have you been playing at all this time? You were only ever any good to serve.

The collar may have been gone but the lessons of obedience were etched into her very self, concealed beneath layers of masks, but always there. Memories of commands, her old master's curt orders, unadorned words that carried the pure expectation of obedience. He reached in, plucked them out, and whispered them into her ear, one after another, commands she'd spent years reflexively obeying intruding on her thoughts, dredging up those same instincts she'd never truly gotten rid of.

And all the while, the margin of skill between them closed, bit by bit.
 
They were wearing her down. Leilah's stamina was incredible, even inhuman, but even she had her limits. And the false starts from the previous short fights, the bursts of adrenaline that had gone nowhere, had already tired her out before she had reached this round of orcs. And because they outnumbered her, they could afford to take things slow and steady, while she had to remain on high alert, evading the lot of them continually. Even so, even with the orcs showing strange coordination and her nerves fraying from the distracting memories, she was very good at what she did, and they were... not. Eventually she found an opening.

"Kill him, girl."

What should have been a rush of relief as one orc fell instead became a twist in her gut. Fighting was his legacy, something her old master had decided to train her in to make her more useful. It wasn't hers, wasn't her, but the rush of adrenaline and the ache in her muscles quieted the restless buzzing in her head. Only, right now it didn't seem to be working, didn't seem to drown out the echoes of a past she hated to dwell on.

She was too shaken to entirely evade the next hand that reached for her, and thick fingers tangled in the cloth of her shirt.

"Undress, girl."

She twisted and squirmed and slipped out of the garment, leaving it hanging from the orc's hand, trying not to think of how exposed she felt. Her modest bust was still secured by a bandeau, but so much of her sweat-slick skin was bare and vulnerable. The orcs closed on her, slowly, cautiously, looking for their moment to strike as Leilah looked for an opening to attack. No, to run. This was too much for her, she had to get away--

"Stand still, girl."

She froze in place as that ancient command echoed through her mind. It was only for a second, but that was all they needed. Soon massive hands had clamped around her arms, lifting her until her toes barely scraped against the ground. Her skin crawled at the orcs' touch, but as much as she thrashed she couldn't break free of their grasp. She was not a weak woman, by any means, but she relied on timing, precision, and the stamina to endure until she found her opening. When it came to brute strength, she was no match for any one of these monsters, let alone the two that held her captive.
 
They held her, gripping her upper arms to take away any chance of leverage, lifting her feet until the tips of her toes could just barely brush the ground if she strained. There was room for her to struggle, to expend that manic energy, to burn out the adrenaline that fear and desperation gave her, but for all she could struggle, he left no room for true escape, no chance to actually break free. The grip was unyielding, the orcs unmoved by what kicks and lashes she could manage. The girl was not unlike Fiera, bent to servitude once upon a time and still bearing the marks of that long subjugation, but where Fiera had been raised into it, Leilah had been broken to it.

Her desire to serve was buried deeper, but its impulses were etched all the more painfully into her mind, having been forced into her rather than built up from birth.

The orcs carried her deeper into his lair, and each time her struggles slowed, each time she sagged in their grip with her energy burned out, he would feed her little pleasures, rewarding her for giving in. There were not many happy sensations or memories associated with her enslavement, but there were some, the simple satisfaction of resolving a difficult problem, the sensory fulfillment of settling into bed with permission to sleep after a long day's service, the carnal pleasure of each time the master had claimed her body.

He kept it up as she came into sight, as the orcs carried her across the stone and made her kneel before him, forcing her to look up at him just as she'd once looked up at her master, looming over her, and then, in a move straight out of her memories, reaching down, caressing her cheek with one thin finger. Not like a lover might caress their partner, but like a collector might a particularly fine piece of artwork, an owner, and an object to be owned.
 
Leilah fought, thrashed, with all her might. It wasn't enough. WIthout her feet on the ground to give her leverage, it was barely anything. And every time she stopped to catch her breath--

She could feel every bump in the ground and every stray twig through the thin blanket beneath her, but it didn't matter. Not when she was this tired. Sleep came easily, and it was welcome.

All her struggles did was make her arms shift in the orcs' grasp, highlighting the feeling of their skin against hers. Was it intentional, where the one on the left held her, so that the side of her breast scraped against his knuckle as she squirmed? The feeling disgusted her, but what disgusted her more was the way her body responded, the burning need that kindled between her legs.

When he was finished, he grunted, shoving her hips and sending her sprawling in the dirt. She drifted light-headed in the afterglow for a few moments, before struggling back up to her hands and knees. There was work to be done.

Leilah was so intent on fighting that she did not notice the illithid. She knew the orcs had brought her to a new chamber, with more creatures, but she did not realize this was something more than just another orc. When they forced her to her knees, her second wind came to her, and she redoubled her efforts to escape. Kneeling or not, she had solid contact with the ground, she had leverage, she had a chance, she had hope--

It still didn't matter. Still wasn't enough. They were simply too strong for her to escape--even with her limbs slicked with sweat, she couldn't slip free of their grasp. She couldn't pull away from the hand that was approaching her face.

"An impressive specimen." The man's hand traced the young girl's jaw, and though she tried to flinch away, tried to flee, she found herself rooted in place. "Are there any more like you? Take me to your family, girl."

The touch was... tender. Not affectionate, but gentle. And that made it a thousand times more terrifying than the orcs' iron grip. Because she craved it, gods help her. More than any carnal desire, Leilah needed the gentle intimacy of human contact. She hadn't been entirely without, but only when she initiated it, which she was often too scared to do. She wouldn't allow herself to be held or entangled in any way that she couldn't slip free of the moment the panic set in--as it inevitably did, before she could truly satisfy that craving. Leilah needed control.

And now she had none. And it was... freeing.

It was okay. It was okay to give up. She had fought as hard as she could, and lost. There was no shame in accepting her defeat, no sense in fighting the inevitable.

She shuddered, then sagged in the orcs' hold. Her mind was as limp as her body; she was still conscious, but thought and emotion had all but faded away. She was an empty vessel, a blank slate, a mound clay for the mind flayer to mold at his pleasure.

And there was something more. Even if Leilah didn't understand, after all these years, what her master had done to hollow her out, it was obvious to the illithid's senses from the moment he laid a finger on her. There was power pulsing beneath her skin; a raw, primal power, power Leilah herself could never truly use. But any mage or psychic worth their salt could simply... take it from her.

It was, perhaps, power enough to strip the protection of the gods themselves from the mind of a holy knight. And it was his.
 
"Good Girl."

A parting tease as her mind collapsed entirely, free will and independent thought crumbling to dust in an instant, worn away from within until there was nothing to support them any longer. Then there was the power, a crackling storm of it swirling inside her, fizzing beneath her skin and yet untouched by her will. Raw and unaspected, born of neither divinity nor thaumaturgy.

The temptation was real and immediate, to take it, drink greedily and deeply, until none of it remained in the girl. To leave it sitting inside her, unused, was a bitter thought indeed, but he knew better than to overreach his bounds. He could consume the power with the snap of a finger but it would just as quickly consume him in the next instant, burning him out as his reach exceeded his grasp. He would need to take time, leeching the power out piece by piece to ensure that it did not overflow.

Fortunately, he had the time to spare, and a project to occupy him while he worked. "Strip for me." He reached into Leilah's mind, capturing the echoes of her personality amidst the dust of her crumbled self, preserving it, at least for long enough that she would be able to better avoid rousing the suspicions of her former friends when she returned to them. With that set aside, he reached into her, building loyalty, laying the foundations for her absolute obedience to his will and then rebuilding her capacity for independence. Delicate work, reconstructing freedom of thought while maintaining perfect devotion to him alongside it, but he had plenty of time, and wonderfully malleable material as well.

All the while, he drained the raw power out of her, slowly absorbing it into himself.
 
Leilah inhaled sharply as every nerve in her body lit up under the illithid's touch. More than the hands restraining her, or her position on her knees, the familiar feeling of her power being siphoned away drove home that she was once again a slave. That her body was not hers. Her breath caught in her throat, and then she began to gasp and pant, her chest and shoulders heaving as her new master drank more deeply than her first ever had.

"Strip for me."

The orcs let go of her arms as the command came, and although all her senses were ablaze, she raised trembling hands to her bandeau and, after a few attempts at fumbling wih the ties that held it in place, tore it from her body. Her nipples stiffened in the chill air of the cave, aided by the desire that still burned in her core. Leilah reached down to her waist and slipped her pants down to her knees; she would have to stand for them to go any farther, and even if her master allowed it, she did not have the strength. Not when he was still draining her, little by little.

Slowly, some sense of awareness came back to her vivid blue eyes as the mind flayer reconstructed her mask--it had always been a mask, the pretense of a free woman, bold and spirited, hiding the obedient slave beneath. But she had grown so used to it that she had fooled herself, come to believe she was a real person with rights and wants and dreams. Her new master had stripped away that delusion.

Eventually he consumed the last of her power--but even as he did, it began to well up anew within her. Its return was slow; if he desired, he could easily consume the energy as rapidly as she produced it, but it seemed that would be a never-ending task. Or if he let her be, for ten or twelve hours, she would be overflowing with power for him once more.
 
It took until he'd drained the last drop of her to confirm it, the tickling sensation as he drained her power dry. It took but a moment, a single instant after he finally stopped, and then it was there again, a spark, growing, multiplying.

She was not just a battery, to be filled and then emptied as needed, she was a source, a conduit unto herself. A living engine of limitless potential.

One draining had amplified him, but what would more give him? After days... Or Weeks...

Suddenly, conquering the surface seemed almost small by comparison to the possibilities that unfolded now.

No. He reigned himself in, tamped down the ambitions, leaving them to burn quietly at the back of his mind. He would not let his reach exceed his grasp again, there was still much to do, and many pleasures to be had along the way. He turned his mind to Leilah again, to his present task.

"Hands and Knees."

He was already hard, the sensation of her mind within his mental grip as he moulded her into a perfectly obedient slave was sublime all on it's own, and to add that to the toned body she displayed was an incredible combination, even to a being so ancient and jaded as himself. He knelt behind her, teasing his cock against already dripping netherlips, a little section of his mind stoking her arousal even as the majority of him continued to shape her new self. Grasping her hips in both hands, he slowly fed himself into her waiting pussy.
 
Even if she could not use the power that lay within her, Leilah felt its absence keenly. She felt weak, dizzy and light-headed. She felt empty, and she yearned to be filled again--one way or another. So the next command was one she welcomed. Not that she could have denied him anything, not that she was even capable any longer of contemplating defiance. But with her body feeling as weak as it did, even kneeling with her torso upright was a strain. Falling to her hands was a relief. And she knew what was coming next, knew her master's intentions. And she was eager for them, shivering in anticipation as his fingers dug into her hips, moaning when his shaft ran back and forth against her slick opening.

She may have been eager for him, but she was not ready. It had been years since she'd had anything inside her other than her own fingers (and those rarely, as even relieving herself tended to dredge up painful memories), and honestly her former master had been little more impressive. But this, the massive thing being driven into her, filling her more completely than she could have dreamed? She wasn't ready.

"Hnnnnn.... guh... huh..." Her head bucked forward, her braided hair whipping over her shoulder. Her skin glistened in the dim light, highlighting the curves and angles of her toned, tensed muscles. Her shoulders stiffened, her stomach clenched. Her passage clenched around him as well, squeezing him eagerly, though her body offered no more resistance to him than her mind.

"Aaaaah..." A shudder ran through her body, and her elbows gave out; her torso dropped, her cheek falling against the stone floor as his hips reached hers.
 
He paused a moment, giving her a few seconds to adjust as her walls constricted around the full length of his shaft before starting to pull back. The groundwork was laid now, the foundations of her new self sculpted from the raw stuff of thought and being. Obedience as perfect as she could give coupled with the capacity for independent thought and then tied off to a handful of lesser pillars, the mask of her former self that lingered so she could fulfill her first purpose of bringing the last two women in these caverns into his control. The repertoire of ability and technique that had once composed her fighting style that her muscle memories could still make use of.

There were little things to add still though, little details to put his own touch on her as he slowly fucked her in a powerful rhythm, one hand reaching forwards to press against her shoulder blades and keep her braced against each thrust. He linked the sense of emptiness tied to her power with the sensation of being filled by his cock, letting the copulation provide a measure of relief and using that to reinforce the loyalty she felt to him.

Next, the battle lust of her mask was appropriated, crafted into her mind and refined into something more useful, a true desire to fight and not just joy but pleasure taken in doing so in his name, in fighting, hurting, even killing for him. He packed it all behind triggers of course, he had no need for a sadist or perpetual fight-seeker, and tearing down and rebuilding such structures of compulsion and sensation feedback every time he needed could prove tedious, so he simply left a switch in her mind.

He linked the pleasure back into the loyalty too, slowly reinforcing the core concepts with every outlying feature and every additional trait he added to his new Slave. Building her not just into a perfect servant but into his servant, leaving a mark on her very mind that even another equally skilled psi on could spend years struggling to undo. He hissed in pleasure, his thrusts hastening, such a perfect, beautiful and obedient mind...
 
"Mmmmm.... hnn..." Leilah was whimpering, trembling as he paused to let her take in the sensation of his cock stretching her, filling her, reaching parts of her body she had barely realized existed. She was hardly aware of the depth of her passage until she could feel the long shaft rubbing against its walls, wasn't aware of her cervix until the head of his cock was pressed against it. When he began to pull back, a desperate whine escaped her throat as she was emptied twice over, but thankfully it didn't last. He began to pound her, slowly, deliberatley, the hand on her shoulders stopping her from rocking back and forth as she was so used to doing, ensuring that each thrust went deep, hard, and utterly fulfilling. The feeling of hollowness ebbed little by little as he fucked her. She punctuated each thrust with a gasp of shock. "Ah... gyuh, uh... gah! Ah! Ahn! Nnn... nah!"

After she'd been freed from her former master, Leilah had wrestled with many feelings about her time in his service, the things she had done at his behest, but there was one thing that bothered her especially deeply, because her master had never asked it of her. He had never asked for her arousal, never ordered her climax. The first few times, he had fucked Leilah dry, and as far as she could tell, he was quite satisfied with that arrangement. She had been told, and clung to the belief, that the wetness came as a defense to ease the pain of his intrusion. That the orgasms were a defense to, of sorts--trying to seek solace in an unavoidable situation, or simply her mind detaching to preserve itself, and leaving her body to its own devices. But, Leilah couldn't help suspecting she was simply a slut.

Now she was sure of it. If she could come from that, when pleasures like this existed, what else could she be? But there was no shame in it any more. It didn't bother her to be a slut, if she was his slut. The illithid's thrusts grew quicker, and her cries grew sharper in response, both pained and excited.
 
While delightfully pleasurable, the twin focuses needed to concentrate on moulding Leilah's mind exactly as he wished and toying with her pliable and athletic body with sufficient intensity to do justice to her looks were draining, and so the Illithid beckoned to the orcs as he felt himself reaching his peak. He could have held it back, could have kept going until she was reduced to a whimpering mess at the end of his shaft, but right now, he could do better. He came, slamming to the hilt and pumping his seed into her waiting womb, feeling her tighten around and milk him as he expended pulse after pulse, hissing in delight as he emptied himself inside her.

He waited a moment after he finished, then pulled back, and as he stepped away, the orcs stepped forward at his command. He was driving them, using their bodies as puppets with basic commands and compulsions and linking their senses to his own so that he would lose no enjoyment of his new slave. Simply commanding them and letting them worry about the specifics of performing the motions he set out was a considerably smaller mental load. For now. He ordered silently. You will please them as you would myself.

Not that the orcs were about to leave Leilah much room to move...

They grabbed her, one seizing her hips and pushing into her now thoroughly lubricated pussy while the other took her by the hair, hauling her face up until she was at eye level with his crotch and pressing his already-hardened shaft against her lips.
 
Leilah's back arched and her head snapped back, blue eyes going wide as his seed filled her, the thick braid of her dark hair whipping up against her back before sliding back over her other shoulder. The heat that poured into her in waves sent her tumbling over the edge, into an orgasm like none she'd ever experienced, or imagined. It coursed through her like a bolt of lightning, knocking the wind out of her in a long, trembling wail--a cry of disbelief, as much as pleasure. Eventually this found its end as a haggard moan, as the last of the air was dispelled from her lungs. She knelt there, trembling, her mouth open wide, strands of drool connecting her full, parted lips.

Only when he pulled out did she begin to breathe again, a deep, desperate gasp that made her throat and lungs ache. She continued to gasp and gulp, her body still quivering from the aftershocks of the orgasm, as her master gave his next command. Even though he spoke directly into her mind, her mind was too scattered by pleasure to understand much of anything. "Ah... wuh..."

Rough, thick fingers dug into the skin of her waist and tangled in the dark locks of her hair, and she was opened anew, another thick shaft driving into her. The intrusion was welcome, but sudden, and she yelped, allowing the other orc to plunge its cock easily into her mouth. She didn't even gag as it forced its way down her throat.

Leilah's former master had kept concubines, and preferred them over her when he was at home, or traveling with a large convoy that could keep them safe. Leilah had merely been a bodyguard, with a couple of convenient holes for when he didn't have anything better to fuck. She had never been trained in the arts of pleasure, never learned to service a man, never even had a cock in her mouth. She knew only to sit obediently and take it, and she could take this.
 
Even if her oral skill was nonexistent, the ability not to gag even as an orcish shaft thick enough to make her neck bulge with its girth was rammed down her throat was impressive in it’s own way. Still, the illithid saw no reason to let such a deficiency remain and set a momentary twist of his attention to laying the groundwork for improvement later. He didn’t need her to be skilled right now and didn’t care to spend the time teaching her from scratch, but there was no sense in letting her remain an imperfect slave forever.

The throatfucking was only to be temporary in any case, a deliberately sloppy act intended to leave the orc’s cock coated in a nice thick sheen of spit and precum, smoothing the way for the second part. He let the orcs go until he could feel Leilah starting to run out of air and then had them pull back, emptying her once more as they rearranged themselves around her. They switched sides, pulled her up between them until her legs couldn’t touch the floor even at full bend, and held her, each with one hand on her waist while their other hands directed their cocks once more.

One went back into her womanhood, the other, freshly slick from her throat, slowly penetrated Leilah’s tight rear, making sure not to break her with the massive insertions at first, but beginning a slow set of thrusts that bounced her between the two. The orc behind grabbed her breasts, roughly groping them while the one in from held her thighs, spreading her wide as they pistoned back and forth.

Her mouth was left uncovered, letting her moans and screams join the symphony of wet noises from that rough double-penetration.
 
They fucked Leilah until she was light-headed, from lack of air as much as from pleasure. Her vision was blurring, her ears were ringing as her blood pounded in her ear. The whole world was falling away into darkness, save for the hard, hot, and vividly real cocks that ravaged her throat and cunt. The vicious pounding she received from both ends was all that kept her from slipping into unconsciousness.

And then it was gone, both pulled out, leaving her gasping, coughing, wanting. She was quite used to being left unfulfilled, but this was strange--the orcs had not finished either. Had she done something wrong? Had she failed to please them, as her master had commanded? She struggled to form the words, to beg them for another chance to do her duty. "Wait... please--"

Rough hands took her again, and she squirmed--not in defiance, but in confusion, as she was hauled off the ground. Her hands were unrestrained, and she pawed awkwardly at the orcs' powerful chests and shoulders as she tried to maintain her balance. Then a cock plunged into her pussy again, and her back arched as she she let out a shuddering moan. "Aa-a-ha-a-ah, haa, haaaaahn..." Her neck went limp and her head fell forward, face pressed into the orc's skin. "Mnn... hnn..."

Even as she was trying to process that sensation, another began--a massive cock piercing her ass. Her entire body tensed, trembling as he plowed into her inch by inch. Muffled whimpers seeped through her clenched teeth, as drool seeped down her chin, until finally her mouth burst open and she screamed, wailed. "Nnn, hnnn, nnn... nnnah, nn, nuh, uh... nnnnaaaaah! Aaaaaaa, aa, aahaa! Ahh! Aaaaaaaah!"

Even with the orc working his way in slowly, almost gently, even with his shaft drenched in her spit, the massive penetration was agonizing. But, beneath the pain, a familiar pleasure was already starting to bloom. Eyes wide, lips trembling, Leilah reached her arms up, flailing for purchase. One hand clung to the shoulder of the orc in front of her, while the other searched for the one ravaging her from behind. She draped an arm around the back of his neck and held on for dear life as they began to move together, their synchronization impossibly perfect--a reminder that these were tools, just as she was, in the hands of their common master.

Her eyes rolled back in her head as she filled the cavern with screams of pain and elation.
 
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The orcs thrusts were merciless, pushing Leilah to her absolute limit but not a single bit further as they pounded her with single-minded precision. Every extra inch of slick hardness pumped into her, every quickening of tempo as the slap of skin on skin hammered out a perverse drumbeat to fill the cavern with the sounds of sex. It was all to test her, to train her for her future roles. There was no reason for her to be merely a bodyguard when she could be bodyguard and concubine both, or anything else he desired she be for that matter.

In theory the orcs could last indefinitely, their orgasms forced back by the illithid's mental grip, but in practice they came when he desired and not a moment sooner or later. They pulsed inside her, twitching furiously until finally she was at the limit of what she could take and they were finally released from the restraint. Immediately they slammed home together, hilting inside her, impaling her on their cocks as they poured their seed into her welcoming holes, filling her to the brim with white hot orcish spunk. They were pent up of course, with years under his control and few females in the tribe, few of the orcs actually got to make sue of anything other than their hands for relief.

Every last drop of what must have been weeks or perhaps even months of stored sperm was pumped into the brawler as the orcs roared, exulting in their 'victory'.

They held her there after, still filled with their softening cocks as their cum began to drip from her holes, a minor concession, the granting of a moment to recover before they slowly pulled back, easing themselves out of her, a rush of mingled cum pouring out as their cocks finally slipped out entirely, adding to the puddle of sweat and sex that had been growing under her while they put her body through its paces.
 
"Aaah! Aah! Haah! Aah! Aaaugh! Ah! Aa!" Leilah shouted in rhythm with the orc's movements, her head bouncing limply with each thrust as her eyes rolled farther and farther back in her head. Her tongue lolled liked a dog's from her open mouth, drool streaming down her chin and throat, splattering across the rough fingers groping her breasts. She was completely overwhelmed by the sensations; her entire body was aflame, and her mind was on the verge of crumbling--threatening to undo some of her master's extensive efforts.

But before permanent damage could be done to his work, the orcs roared in triumph, and Leilah howled with them, ecstasy seizing her as she was flooded with their seed. It filled her until her stomach stretched, swelled to contain it, smoothing the lines of her toned abs. She felt the weight of it, the ocean of thick cum that sloshed and squelched within her. She felt so heavy.

Even when the spasms of her orgasm died down, Leilah was left trembling, twitching. Her breath was rough and unsteady. Even as the cocks within her softened, and the cum began to dribble out, splattering on the ground, her expression remained blank--eyes back, tongue out, a flush of red just barely visible beneath her brown skin. She was still lost in the pleasure, and it would be some time before she found her way back to herself.


Elsewhere in the cave, the other three women knelt around Fiera's map, trying to figure out where they had gone wrong and where they were now. Or rather, Elyssa and Lienna were; Fiera sat with them, but offered little to the discussion beyond a litany of whispered apologies. The other two did their best to reassure her, but otherwise did not comment on her unhelpfulness. They were used to Fiera being too hard on herself and blaming herself for everything. It didn't cross either of their minds that she may have had any intentions beyond self-recrimination.
 
Leilah was left to recover for a time, and with her mental energy at ebb with the thorough ravaging the orcs had given her, the illithid took a moment to reach out to Fiera. A brush of consolation, a little rush of satisfaction, he fed her with his approval, a job well done, leading the other two about while he broke in the brawler. Now, he had more for her to do.

"Split them up, Elyssa will go alone while Lienna goes with you. It seemed a logical split, and Fiera wouldn't even need to really push for it unless his concepts of the remaining two's personalities were badly off. "Suggest that more ground can be covered that way." If they wouldn't split of their own accord he could always force them apart, there were a few traps to separate sections of a cavern after all, but if Fiera could convince them, so much the better. The later Elyssa learned of him and his plans, the better.

"Once you are alone with her, lead her here." His mind's eye zipped through the corridors, impressing them upon the rogue's mind, a series of turns, leading loosely in the direction of his central lair, but by a slightly roundabout route. I will be sure to reward you when you return.
 
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