Spellhold Nights

Spellhold Nights

***

Disclaimer:
This story is based on Baldur's Gate II, and the characters (with the exception of a couple of bit players)and places are not mine; they belong to the Black Isle. The story contains graphic descriptions of sex, as well as other nasty stuff, including violence and incest. If you are a minor, or just feel like you don't want to see if this offends you or not, please go read something edifying instead.

***

Prologue: Changes In Management

It was near midnight when Jon Irenicus decided that he had been playing along long enough.

The masked archmage sat up on the padded cot he had been reclining on and concentrated his mind. The enchantments and mental bindings that the Cowled Wizards had weaved around his powers were both intricate and powerful; they could have kept a lesser magician docile and nearly powerless almost indefinitely.

As it was, they could not hold Irenicus back any more than a child's dam could withstand a spring flood. The mental wards and abjurations strained and started to fray, and the more they failed, the more powerful he grew. In seconds, he had cleared the last shreds of the restraints from his mind and was once again in full possession of his powers.

Irenicus placed a hand on the lock of his cell door. It clicked open obediently, and the door swung open noiselessly. He strode out, icy anger slowly filling him as he summoned a magical mantle around himself. There was some unfinished business between him and the Cowled Wizards...

***

Jerlis yawned and leaned on his quarterstaff. The midnight watch in Spellhold was horribly boring, since most inmates were too exhausted or too down-trodden to stay awake at night, hatching plans or plotting to escape. As such, it was generally left for the junior members of the Order; such as Jerlis and his friend, Salymon.

"Did you see the new girl they brought in?" he asked Salymon. "She was cute." That was quite true; most of the deviants they got here in Spellhold were either haggard and mad, or angry and disfigured by the results of magical accidents or by the injuries suffered during their capture. Not this one; despite some scars, she was pretty indeed, with strawberry blonde hair and a slim figure that still held the promise of curves hidden beneath her clothes. Imoen, her name was...

Salymon grinned salaciously. "Oh, yes! I think I'll try some enchantments on her," he said and winked at his friend. Officially, there was to be no fraternising with the inmates, and during previous directors the rule had been strictly enforced. Vanev, the current director of Spellhold, however, was too absorbed in his own experiments with the prisoners to notice the smaller, more carnal, indiscretions of his staff. And Lonk "the Sane", the gnomish custodian, was always willing to look the other way for a nominal fee.

Suddenly the building shuddered, and the young wizards heard a distant, muffled roar or rumble. "What was that?" Salymon gasped. Before Jerlis could say anything, a third, older wizard rushed into the hall. His hair was literally standing on end, and there was an expression of panic and confusion on his face. The two could barely recognize him as Tethlos, the foreman of the night shift.

"The new prisoner has escaped!" he screamed. Jerlis and Salymon looked at him, baffled. "What? The girl...?" "But wasn't she..." they said in unison, still thinking about Imoen. Tethlos shook his head, shaking with anger and fear. "Not her, the man who leveled the Promenade, that Irenicus! He got loose in the lower level, and I just got away..."

His words were cut short by the characteristic, shimmering warping in the air near the end of the hall: someone was entering via a dimension door, and given the situation, the three had no suspicions about who was coming. "Too late! By the gods, he's coming now!" Tethlos screamed.

A tall, masked man appeared in the warp, his form solidifying before their eyes. His handsome, painted face was as impassive as always, but his eyes burned with cold light. Jerlis and Salymon brandished their staffs in his direction, calling up their protective spells, while Tethlos merely stared at him.

"I cannot be caged," Irenicus intoned in his cold, precise voice. "I cannot be controlled." He made a sweeping gesture with his hands, and an eerie aurora of magical power played around him. "Understand this even as you die, ever pathetic, ever fools!" he snarled and released the spells.

Blue fire burst out of Salymon's mouth, nostrils, ears and eyes as he was consumed from within; at the same time, vaporous green coils wrapped around Jerlis, stealing his breath away and burning his eyes and nose with their acrid sourness. In his last moments, before his life fled, he saw he saw Tethlos turning gray and starting to crumble like dry sand, and knew that the Spellhold had a new master...

Irenicus strode over the still smoldering corpse of one of the wizards and thrust his arms towards the main doors. They blew open into the cool night air with a crash, opening the gates of Spellhold for anyone to come. "Bodhi!" the mage shouted the invitation into the night. "I call you into my new abode!"

A soft, disembodied chuckle answered him, and a streamer of fog flowed in through the door. It formed a swirling column before Irenicus, then solidified into the form of his vampiric sister. Bodhi looked around her approvingly before turning to look at her brother, smiling. "Oh, Jon, I do like the decor! This is a definite step up from the underground Athkatla." Although his painted face remained frozen, there was a note of amusement in the mage's voice. "Indeed. Now, let us waste no time. There is a certain person here who awaits us..."

***

Imoen woke up from restless sleep in the middle of nighnight. For a moment, she didn't know where she was, but then recognized the bare room. She was in the Spellhold, in the cell reserved for her until she was deemed fit to be released back into the world... or died.

She shivered and sat up, hugging her knees. From what she had seen of the other inmates, it seemed that the second alterative was perhaps better than the first. Not all of them had been mad when they had been brought here, but now they were all insane. Imoen was not certain whether madness was contagious, or if they had been twisted by the "treatments" here, but she was certain she did not wish to become like them.

At least I have someone outside who will help me, she thought. Her foster brother Barin was a man who did not leave his friends behind... or his enemies free. He would come here, for her sake and his own, looking for Irenicus. And despite the power of the Cowled Wizards, Imoen was sure that her brother and their companions would find her and free her.

A distant noise roused Imoen from her thoughts, and she strained her ears. It sounded like distant thunder, or perhaps the fiery explosion of a flame strike. Could her friends be coming for her already? The young mage got up and hastily pulled her clothes on; she wanted to be ready when the door opened!

There were more distant hes hes and blasts, shouts and screams, and occasional deep rumbles that rattled the entire building. This was no thunder, but a full ba, wi, with much magics being cast! Imoen listened to it with rising spirits, cheering for her companions as a particularly strong blast shook the castle.

Then a silence fell over the entire Spellhold.

Imoen stepped ahead, pressing her ear to the door and listening. She could hear several footsteps approaching, and pounded the door, yelling. "Barin? Jaheira? Minsc? I'm in here! Come this way!"

There was the sound of a key rattling in the lock, and Imoen stepped back, full of expectation. The door swung open, revealing not her brother and friends as she had hoped, but Irenicus. Behind him, the darkness of the corridor looked alive with shadowy shapes and barely visible movement. "Hello, little one," the mage said. "We shall have much to do..."

"W-w-what are you planning?" Imoen stuttered, backing against the wall of her cell. She remembered all too well the pain and the cutting in Irenicus' dungeons, weeks ago. The mage regarded her evenly. "Do not worry; it will be nothing worse than what I intend to do to your friend..." He stepped aside, and a half-naked, ghostly pale woman entered the cell. Her black hair swayed around her head as if underwater, and her eyes glittered with barely contained lust for blood... and for something more.

"Hello, pretty girl," Bodhi said, revealing her fangs in a smile that made Imoen's blood run cold. "We are going to learn to know each other very well..."

***

Imoen was crying.

It was not very unusual, these days. When she had been captured by the Cowled Wizards, she had believed that this was as bleak as things could get, and they would only possibly get better. Then she had been taken into Spellhold, and found out that things could get worse. Still, she had expected to be rescued, if not immediately, then later on. When Irenicus had opened her cell, she had almost lost hope, but had taken some solace in that she had been his hands before, and had survived. She had not expected Bodhi, however...

Even though Irenicus was cruel, his cruelty was impersonal; it was evident that he did not care of Imoen except as a puzzle to be unraveled and a source of power to be tapped. Bodhi, on the other hand, took an obvious, sadistic enjoyment in the process itself. The vampire delighted in hurting and humiliating her, and displayed an unwholesome wealth of imagination, like now.

She had Imoen hanging naked and spread-eagled in a rack, obviously meant for dislocating limbs. The reason for the girl's tears was not physical pain, however; at least, not her own.

For the last half an hour, Bodhi had been vivisecting one of the inmates, a vague blonde girl who spoke only in rhyming couplets, but screamed just like everyone else. Now the girl was a bloody mess, far beyond screaming, but still breathing and occasionally twitching, as Bodhi's scalpels or pins found another nerve.

Imoen, who had a tender heart, had been horrified and sickened by the whole ghastly spectacle, but that wasn't the worst thing. No, the worst thing was that there was a part of her mind that was not at all horrified but enjoyed watching this; indeed, she even felt a hint of arousal.

Bodhi looked up from her work and smiled. The vampire was spattered in blood; her breasts and arms were almost entirely crimson, and there were flecks of red on her face and lips. "Oh, so sweet! Did I make you cry?" Bodhi mocked, sticking her scalpel into the mutilated girl's thigh and moved closer to Imoen.

The vampire brought her pale face close to Imoen's face and smiled. "Let me kiss those nasty tears away," she cooed. The chill touch of Bodhi's tongue on her cheek made Imoen want to gag. The vampire lapped up her tears, her bloody hands resting on Imoen's shoulders. As Bodhi pressed closer, her nipples brushed against Imoen's breasts; to her mortification, the girl felt her own flesh responding.

Bodhi noticed this, and looked down, smiling. "Ah! I thought as much. Finally you are starting to show your true color!" She cupped one of Imoen's breasts, pinchthe the erect nipple between icy fingers; her touch had already turned the blood on her hands cold. The bound girl twitched, biting back a gasp, as Bodhi slowly kneaded her breast. The vampire's other hand crawled down Imoen's body, leaving a bloody trail, heading for her groin. The cold fingers moved around her pussy, probing and teasing, as the vampire bowed her head to lick the bloodstains from Imoen's breast.

Imoen felt her body starting to betray herself as Bodhi continued to caress her; the vampire had too much experience and skill in this. What was worse, however, was that she could feel parts of her mind respond, too; she had to steel her will against vivid images of her and Bodhi kissing and embracing, writhing together on the blood-slickened tiles of the floor...

The shock of feeling two cold fingers being slipped into her pussy jolted Imoen out of her daze, and caused her to gasp loudly. Bodhi looked up at her face and smiled. "You are not as innocent as you thought; why, you are practically dripping!" The vampire twisted her fingers inside Imoen's body, causing her to squirm in her bonds. "Don't bother to fight; you will enjoy this in the end anyway," Bodhi said and thrust her hand deeper.

Imoen worked her dry mouth, trying to gather some saliva. "I... will... enjoy..." she croaked, and saw the vampire's smile turn into aheroherous grin. "...seeing you staked!" Imoen gasped and spat Bodhi in the eye.

The vampire moved almost too fast for an eye to see, yanking her fingers out of Imoen's body so fast her fingernails drew blood, and grasped the girl's throat with a crushing grip. Bodhi was floating in the air, her face level with Imoen's, her bestial nature fully evident in her leaden pallor and burning, blood-red eyes. "I will feed you your own guts for that, you pathetic little human cunt!" the vampire screamed, tightening her grasp further.

Then, suddenly, Bodhi released her hold and forced an artificial calm over herself. She dropped quietly back to the ground and studied Imoen for a moment. "That was very foolish thing to do. Did you imagine I would release you in death? Maybe this will teach you some manners..." The vampire's hand flashed forwards, slapping Imoen's face with a resounding clap that threw her head back and knocked the girl unconcious.

Snarling, Bodhi turned away from Imoen, now hanging limply in her restraints, and turned into a swirling mist that flowed into the air vent in the roof.

***

She materialized again in the main room of the basement, where Irenicus was directing her thieves to set up the laboratory apparatus they had brought from Athkatla. The mage didn't look at the vampire when he addressed her. "You should be more careful, Bodhi."

Bodhi shrugged; she was not surprised at all threnirenicus knew what had happened. The mage kept an mystical eye on Imoen at all times, just in case something like this happened. "After all, no matter how attractive that girl's body is to you, her soul is much, much more valuable..." Irenicus continued.

"I know that, my brother... but she is, indeed, delightful, even though you do no longer can see it," Bodhi said petulantly. "And she spat at me! I lost my temper for a second. It won't happen again, and she will regret causing it to happen even this once. I will break her spirit, I know that. I just need some more time..."

Irenicus turned away from the sweating thieves, who were lowering a large crystalline cylinder in place, and looked into his vampiric sister. A humorous gleam appeared in his blue eyeas as he studied his sister. "Do you see why I never followed your example, Bodhi? Your unlife has made you impulsive and emotional. You take her stanstance as a personal insult, whereas I see it only as a problem to be solved. And I think you have been using wrong tools to solve it."

Bodhi looked at the mage sharply. "What are you saying? Did we not agree that the best way to undermine her defenses was to feed the darkness within her, try to link death and pleasure in her mind? Are you changing your mind?" Her brother shook his head almost imperceptibly. "Not at all. I merely point that despite your considerable assets," Irenicus saiouchouching Bodhi's bare breast with his fingertips, "Imoen might not share your tastes for companionship, nor find you as attractive as someone else."

The vampire tilted her head slightly, studying Irenicus with interest. "Indeed? And who are you suggesting, then? Where can we find someone utterly reliable, yet who titillates the little bitch's senses?"
There was a smile in Irenicus' voice as he answered her. "In her own mind." Bodhi looked surprised, but then a malicious smile crept over her lips as she understood the mage's implications.

***

Imoen woke up in her bed, back at the Candlekeep.

She just lay silently there for a long time, watching the morning grow brighter as the sun rose above the castle's eastern walls, and tried to recall her dream. But as usual, the more she tried to cling to the fleeting images, the quicker they faded out of her head. Deciding that it was not important anyway, Imoen got up and dressed quickly, before heading for the breakfast.

When she entered the kitchen at the Inn, she found the place already bustling with activity. Doing her best to avoid Winthrop's eye, so that he wouldn't give her some chores, Imoen snatched herself some toast, a few eggs, a strip of bacon, and a few of the last apples, crinkly but still good. Thus prepared, she slipped out of the back door and headed for her personal hideout in the stable loft, which she used whenever she wanted to avoid work.

As luck would have it, Imoen met nobody on her way to the stables, except a masked man and a pale, dark-haired woman who watched her intently as she passed. They looked vaguely familiar, but Imoen did not pay them much attention; strange wizards and scholars were commonplace in the Candlekeep; the castle economy relied almost entirely upon the keep's excellent library that was the finest on the entire Sword Coast.

Imoen was sitting in the loft, munching the last apple, when she heard someone coming up the ladder. She jumped, surprised that anyone else was coming up here; with the new grass, there was little need for the hay left here from the winter. The only reason she could think of was that someone was looking for her, and that meant she was going to be hauled back to the inn and made to scrub pots or change linens. No thank you! Moving quickly, gracefully and, most important of all, quietly, Imoen hid herself in the darkest corner of the loft, behind some old boxes, and hoped she would not be caught.

To her utter surprise, it was the dark-haired head of her brother, Barin, that appeared through the loft hatch. He gave the room a long, slow look before climbing up, helping a pretty, blonde girl up after him. Imoen recognized the girl immediately; it was Tishna, one of the maids at the inn. She had a bit of a reputation among the youths of the castle, but nothing serious; Winthrop kept his people well in line.

Apparently that reputation was well deserved, she she opened the laces of her shirt almost immediately, revealing her pretty tits. Imoen stifled a surprised gasp as she continued undressing, first pulling her shirt over her head, then dropping her skirt and underskirt until she was stag nag naked in the loft.

Imoen felt her face blush. She was incurably curious, but never really spied upon other people's private lives, and here she was watching her brother with Tishna! But she had not intended this to happen, nor had anywhere to go. The only thing to do now was to avoid getting caught. She shifted into a better position and settled to watch...

Barin was also undressing now, revealing a body many a grown man would have been envious. To her surprise, Imoen noticed that her brother was actually a very good looking guy. Then her gaze shifted down, and her blush became even fiercer. He was also a very well hung guy, his thick cock jutting out proudly.

Looking enraptured, Tishna sunk to her knees before Barin, and took his cock in her hands, giving it a couple of experimental tugs. "Oh, you're a big one, Barin," Tishna whispered almost reverentially. Then her expression turned playful. "I bet you taste good," she said with a knowing smile and started to kiss and nibble his cock. Barin sighed loudly and placed his hands on top of Tishna's golden head, letting them rest there.

Imoen found herself getting hot, watching this. She knew she was doing the wrong thing here, but what the heck; her brother had no business fooling around with Tishna, either! And it was his own fault that he had not seen her... Imoen slipped her knee breeches off and fingered herself silently, feeling her pussy grow hotter and wetter as she watched Tishna slip her brothers cock between her lips. She felt like sucking something, too, and settled for her own fingers, working the index finger in and out of her m in in time with Tishna's motions and the fingers of her other hand.

This went on for several minutes. Imoen was no stranger to masturbation, but she had never been this excited, and although she had not climaxed yet, the sensations in her pussy were now better than anything she had experienced before. Slowly, the pace of the show before her was changing; her brother was becoming more active, actually moving his hips back and forth as he drove his cock into Tishna's mouth, while the girl was becoming more passive, a receptacle to be filled.

Then Imoen saw Barin stiffen, and knew he was about to come. Tishna noticed it, and tried to pull away, but in vain; Barin was grasping her head, keeping her mouth on his dick as he came with a loud groan. The girl gagged and spluttered, trying again to pull her head back from Barin's dick, and this time he let her. As his cock slipped out of her mouth, it twitched visibly, and a spurt of cum spattered all over Tishna's face, then again and again. The sight drove Imoen over the edge, and she came hard, her juices running down her thighs and ass.

As Tishna, still spluttering, started to wipe her face, Barin grasped her hand. "Leave it there. Imoen, come over here; I want you to clean her up."

Imoen's heart jumped into her throat, and she scampered backwards into the deeper shadows, irrationally hoping that she could actually vanish. Barin turned to look straight at her and grinned, but not angrily. "Hey, Imoen, I know this our our favorite haunt. Why else do you think I had come here with her? Come on, sis, play nice and I'll fuck you next."

She sat in the corner, staring at her brother, feeling confused, terrified, shamed... and horny, so very, very horny. Usually Imoen found one good orgasm enough to satisfy her for days, but now, mere minutes after the best climax after her lishe she was feeling hotter than ever.

Slowly Imoen stood up, and with unsteady legs stepped out of the shadows. She felt Barin's and Tishna's eyes on her bare thighs and pussy as she walked towards them. "Go on, sis, lick her clean," Barin said and gestured at Tishna, who was still kneeling on the floor.

She kneeled in front of Tishna, and looked at her. The blonde looked at her with an expectant look in her eyes, but it was the look of a loyal servant, a lap dog, a pet that wants to please its owner. Imoen found that she liked the look. She gave a tentative lick to the white goo on Tishna's face. It was salty and sweet at the same time, not bad but not very good either... except that she knew what it was, and that made it taste better than anything.

Suddenly erinering for her brother's seed, Imoen eagerly licked Tishna's face clean, pushing her tongue between the girl's lips and cleaning her mouth for any last drops. Then she turned pushed the blonde over to a prone position and shifted her attention to her breasts. Tishna's expression of servile expectation became one of pleasure as Imoen worked her tongue across the girl's tits, relishing at the salty taste of the cum and sweat on her chest.

She heard Barin moving behind her, and felt his large hands on her slim hips. Then she felt the hot, smooth tip of her brother's cock touching her pussy lips, and tried to push back, but found herself being held in place by strong hands. Moaning with annoyance, she lifted her face from Tishna's bosom and looked back at her brother over her shoulder. Barin was grinning, an expression of barely contained lust on his face. "Now Imoen, don't you remember what Winthrop taught us? You have to say the magic words..." he whispered hoarsely.

Imoen pouted. "Do I have to?" she asked plaintively. Instead of answering, Barin moved his hips slightly, so that his cock rubbed its length along her pussy, the tip just brushing at her clit, causing her to bite her lip. "Ohhh... all right, all right... please, Barin, fuck me..." she said. Again, his answer was wordless, as he removed one hand from Imoen's hips and used it to guide his cock into her eager pussy.

She felt herself being stretched open as the hot, throbbing shaft pushed into her. Imoen winced at the invasion; so far, her experiences had been with her own slim fingers, and with a carrot or two she had snatched from the pantry, and they had not prepared her for this. Barin paid no heed to his sister's discomfort, as he proceeded to fuck her roughly, and very soon had her moaning with pleasure.

Imoen was in the seventh heaven, feeling her brother's cock plunge deep into her body, then pull almost entirely out, and slam back into her, his balls slapping against her flesh. Her pleasure climbed steadily, and she was now panting and gasping for breath. Then, suddenly, Barin ed eed entirely out of her, leaving Imoen hanging near the edge of a climax. She whimpered in frustration, and looked at her brother angrily. "Why did you stop? I was so close!"

Barin smiled broadly. "Because I have a better treat for you!" He stepped back from Imoen, and knee-walked towards Tishna, who had been watching their incestuous coupling raptly, fingering her pussy as she watched. "Open your legs," he commanded the blonde, who obeyed immediately. Imoen was about to protest, to say that she wanted him all for herself, but something about Barin's expression told her to be quiet. So she watched in turn as her brother plunged into Tishna's wet pussy with no preamble, and started to fuck her rapidly. He had not thrusted into her more than maybe a dozen times, before he went rigid and came into herowliowling in his throat.

Barin pulled out of Tishna and turned towards Imoen, his cock still hard and shiny with the blonde's pussy juices, a silvery trail of semen hanging from the tip. "Here you are, sis," he said, presenting his member for her mouth. Imoen needed little coaxing, and eagerly wrapped her lips around his member, sucking and licking every precious drop of his cum from it. When she pulled back for a breath, Barin put his hand on her forehead, keeping her from going down on him again. "That was just the starters; the main course awaits you," he said and gestured towards Tishna, who was laying with her legs open, a trickle of cum leaking from between her pussy lips. Imoen looked at her, licking her lips, then back at her brother, and smiled. "Oh... I see what you mean!"

She launched herself hungrily at Tishna's twat, starting at the edges, licking at the juices leaked from the other girl's pussy before turning her attention to the "main course." As her tongue wormed into Tishna's cunt, Imoen felt Barin move again behind her, and shove his dick back into her pussy, this time ploving into her with slow, steady strokes that almost distracted her from her treat... almost.

***

Irenicus and Bodhi watched the strawberry blonde girl writhe on her bed, moaning faintly. The masked mage was as impassive as ever, but Bodhi was clearly enjoying the show, the fingers of one hand moving beneath her loincloth.

"I believe she might be more receptive to you now, dear sister," Irenicus said in a matter-of-fact voice that held only the slightest hint of patronizing amusement. "The spell should wear off shortly, but I trust you will be able to ensure her compliance. I will be in the main chamber, running the apparatus through its last tests, since you thoughtfully provided enough thieves to do so."

Bodhi licked her lips hungrily and slipped out of what little clothes she was wearing. "You do that, my darling brother," she said absent-mindedly, paying no heed to Irenicus vanishing through a dimension door.

She spent a few moments fingering Imoen's cunt, now practically overflowing with the excitement of hegicagically induced wet dream, pushing her fingers into the girl and twisting them this way and that, amused by the twitches and gasps her actions elicited. "If I didn't have to keep you alive, my pretty little toy," she whispered, "I'd fistfuck you until I tore your womb apart, and then rip your guts out through this hole... and you would love every moment of it, wouldn't you?" A particularly rough thrust of her fingers caused Imoen to moan ecstatically, bringing a sardonic smile to the vampire's lips.

"That's a good girl," she chuckled. "Now, let's see if you can do in real life as well as in your dreams..." Bodhi turned the dreaming girl over and swung her leg over her body, positioning herself so that her crotch was above Imoen's face, then lowered her hips until her hairless cunt came into contact with Imoen's face. No longer the delicate rosy pink of an elf maiden she once had been, her flesh was now cold and pale as the belly of a dead fish, except where her pussy juices had left bloody smears.

In her spellbound condition, Imoen did not care, however. Still believing herself to be on the stable loft back in the Candlekeep of her childhood, she started to lick and nibble Bodhi's rubbery flesh with gusto. The vampire sighed happily before crouching down to return the favor, her long tongue slathering Imoen's clit with blood-tainted saliva.

***

Imoen was having trouble knowing who she was, much less when or where she was. Conflicting memories flickered through her mind: quick glimpses of passionate sex, mixed with slices of terror, madness, and imprisonment.

Slowly, her memory started to become clearer and clearer. She had been dreaming, hadn't she? She was not in Candlekeep, but in her cell in Spellhold, imprisoned first by the Cowled Wizards, then Irenicus. But as her memories became clearer, so did the burning lust that was now filling hehe fhe felt a cold, slick presence fluttering in her pussy, teasing her already overwrought nerves, and tasted something bittersweet, with the cloying coppery aftertaste of blood in her mouth...

Her eyes flew open as the spell Irenicus had wrought upon her ended. Bodhi noticed her body stiffening, and lifted her mouth from the girl's cunt for a moment to speak. "Do you see now what I meant, sweetmeat? I and my brother will get our way in the end. Always."

Imoen tried to struggle, but she was no match to Bodhi's inhuman strength. "Now, darling, I suggest you do your best, before you are not going to draw another breath until you make me come," the vampire said and pressed her crotch tightly against Imoen's face, then returned her attention to the girl's pussy.

Filled with conflicting loathing and lust, Imoen tried to gasp for air, but in vain: cold, wet flesh was covering her mouth and nose. For a second, she thought she wouldn't do it, not this, not with Bodhi... but then again, what of those dreams she had had? She had done the same thing, and more; she had dreamt of being fucked by her brother, had begged it. Now, with her life at stake, would this be any worse than that?

Unnoticed tears rolling down her cheeks, she started to eat Bodhi out, hoping that she could bring her tormentor to a climax before she lost her conciousness. The vampire reacted immediately, nipping her clit between sharp canines, almost drawing blood, and causing her to draw another useless breath. Crying in her mind, Imoen doubled her efforts, trying her utmost to make the vampire come.

Imoen licked Bodhi's clammy flesh; she nibbled and tugged with her lips and teeth; she tried to use her chin and nose to rub the vampire's cunt; she thrust her tongue as far into her as she could, until she felt it would tear off its roots, and twirled it around, swallowing the tainted juices flowing into her mouth, and none of it was enough.

She barely noticed the waves of pleasure radiating from her groin, where Bodhi was working untiringly, needing no breath. Her lungs were burning, her field of vision turning black at the edges and blood-red swirls moving before her her eyes. She was going to die, face buried in the cunt of an undead woman, at the moment of her own orgasm!

That was the last straw. Imoen felt something give way in the foundation of her soul, felt something hund end evil rise from the bottom of her subconcious, felt the pain in her lungs mix with the pleasure in her cunt, and everything was turning dark, bloody dark, and she started to laugh with the dark joy it all brought to her, and bit Bodhi, catching the vampire's cold flesh between her teeth, tearing and chewing her, dying and enjoying every second of it, just wanting to kill, kill, kill...

***

When her head cleared a bit, Imoen found that she could breathe again. She was laying on her bed, with Bodhi spread languidly next to her. Her face was glistening with saliva and cunt juices, her pussy looking almost like it might belong to a living woman, puffy and reddened. Imoen could see faint red marks where she had bit the vampire, but there was no blood.

"Very good, sweetmeat," Bodhi purred. "If I hadn't better uses for you, I might make you one of us, and keep you as a bedtime toy for the rest of eternity. I think you would prefer it to what is to come, too..." She stood up and picked Imoen in her arms; the girl was too weak to resist. "And now we must go; I'm sure Jon has everything well and ready by now. My dear brother is very good with his machines, as you will soon see..." Laughing softly, the vampire carried her limp prize out of the cell and towards Irenicus' laboratory.

***
Epilogue: Bad dreams?

Barin sat up in his bunk, almost hitting his head to the deck above. Even now, already awake, he was not seeing the cabin on Saemon Havarian's ship, but rather the last scene of his nightmare.

In the dream, he had seen Imoen being carried into a large room by an elven vampire; most likely Bodhi, whom he and his companions had glimpsed when they had cleaned out the vampire nest in the Athkatla graveyard. Irenicus had been there, too; the masked mage haunted his thoughts and dreams now almost constantly.

They had placed Imoen, who had seemed too weak to stand, into a large glass container, eerily similar to those that had held Irenicus' experiments back at his underground lair, and closed it with a thick lid. Then the vampire had entered another, similar glass tank, and Irenicus had stepped back to start some kind of a magical ritual

He remembered glimpsing terrified faces, screaming mutely behind glass walls, and seeing the light in their eyes die one by one, as Irenicus continued his chant. There had been a swirl of energy flowing through the room and into the machinery surrounding the two tanks. Then Imoen and Bodhi had been wrapped in glaring light, and everything had faded away.

The last thing in his dream had been Imoen's voice, distant and weak as a child's, crying his name...

Barin shuddered. He felt Jaheira move beside him, and lay back, not wanting to wake the druidess up. She mumbled something and wrapped one hand around his chest, falling back into deep sleep.

The young Bhaalspawn stayed awake for long afterwards, however, staring into the darkness.

***