Farewell to Light

Thorian could barely remember what it was like to see. It had been days - weeks, perhaps - since the young elf had ventured below the

surface in pursuit of a band of drow raiders. He had lost track of his quarry in the winding subterranean passages, and in his confusion some

creature had waylaid him and knocked him out; when he regained consciousness, he was naked, lying on a cold, damp stone floor in pitch

darkness, completely bound and immobilized. He heard nothing, except for the occasional sound of footsteps when his captors would enter his

place of imprisonment to give him water. At first he had been ravenously hungry, but now his body seemed to have given up hope of sustenance.

Now he waited, thoughtless and helpless, for death.

Now, once again Thorian heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching him. But this time, they were accompanied by light. It was a dim

glow, scarcely as strong as starlight, but to Thorian it seemed as bright as the noonday sun. For a moment he thought that he was dreaming, or

that he had died, but he was still conscious and alive. He now saw that he was lying on the floor of a small cavern, and a figure was standing in

the cavern's mouth. It was slender and androgynous, and clad in a long black robe that obscured its face. It held a candle in its pale-skinned,

clawlike hand.

Relax. Thorian's captor did not speak, but nevertheless its voice echoed through his brain. He complied. Despite his helplessness, he

somehow felt utterly at ease now that the being was standing beside him. The being, seemingly sensing his submission, put down the candle,

knelt behind him and helped ease him into a sitting position. As it fussed to untie his bindings, its lithe hands felt cool and moist against his skin.

It took all Thorian's strength to avoid collapsing into its arms.

When the creature had finally undone all the knots holding Thorian, it pulled him into its lap and embraced him. The elf let out an involuntary

gasp as it pressed its cold body tightly against his sore, rope-burnt chest and caressed his back with its long, sharp nails. Despite his exhaustion

from hunger and captivity, he felt himself growing hard, his erection pressing against the creature's belly.

In Thorian's mind, he could almost hear the creature giggling as it pushed him off, sending him sprawling onto all fours. The creature grasped

his thighs, nudging them open. Then a thick, wet tongue slowly began to spiral around its cock. It worked its way to the tip, and then the creature

flicked its tongue back suddenly, squeezing Thorian's cock between its tongue's muscular coils, and then darted its tongue outwards again, so

quickly that the wet flesh seemed to pulse and twist around Thorian's captive member. It went faster and faster, making Thorian gasp and moan

helplessly in pleasure, bringing him to the edge of orgasm.

Then, as the creature continued to fellate him, Thorian felt a second tongue lick at his balls and move upwards, pressing against his ass. He

let out a cry as the tongue shoved itself into him. With each movement of the creature's head, its second tongue withdrew slightly and then forced

itself deeper than before, fucking him brutally. All of Thorian's muscles tensed and he struggled futilely to escape this new stimulation, but the

creature's hands gripped his thighs tightly and held him in place. The fulness in his ass combined with the pressure and friction on his cock to

send him into the throes of ecstasy. He spasmed as he came, then collapsed, a quivering, panting heap, onto the cave floor.

Thorian was too exhausted to move any longer, or to even think. But the creature wasn't finished with him yet. It stepped over him, turned, and

lowered itself to the floor, then lifted its hood so that they lay face to face. Thorian gazed into its pupilless white eyes. He was so mentally and

physically spent that his mind barely registered the four tentacles protruding from the thing's lampreylike mouth, one now covered in a film of

blood. He did not fight as the tendrils slid over his face, gently brushing over his features. Two of them tarried on his lips, then slipped into his

mouth. Thorian returned the kiss. He tasted his own blood and musky sweat, and beneath that the salty tang of the illithid's flesh. The illithid

grabbed onto his wrists tightly, and for a moment they were like lovers, connected in a moment of bliss. Then the tentacles rushed past his tongue

and forced their way down his throat, choking him, and two more pressed against his ears, trying to bore his way into his brain, and he tried to

scream but there was no air left in lungs, and his head swam as his vision ebbed away. And Thorian saw no more.

END