Dungeon Mistress

Erin was wryly watching me give her the up-down. “What do you think?”

“Uh ... pretty different from what you used to wear to my sessions, huh?” I tried not to say the words bitterly. I was feeling a now-familiar surge of jealousy. Years of me having an unrequited crush on Erin, but Monica has her playing sexy-dress-up in just a few months of sessions?

“C’mon, seriously. Monica changed it a lot, I’m not sure how I feel about it, but it does seem like something Enna would wear...” Erin was self-conscious, I realized.

I pulled myself together and cracked a smile. “You look great, Erin. Although it certainly looks like Enna will be a lot colder while we’re traveling.”

She slapped my arm playfully, laughing. “Shut up, Chris. Cedwin here has so much upper chest showing he’d catch the flu the first time the temperature dropped below 50. C’mon, Liz and Mike both just got here.”

It was impossible not to wonder if Erin was the unknown sender who had been sending those emails. But she seemed ... just like her usual herself.

Liz was in her Lucia outfit from last session, and grinned at me when I followed Monica out of the bedroom. “Bring your suit? I tried to bring one I thought Lucia would wear...” She held up her hand, a black monokini dangling from it.

I stared at it. It did not look like sufficient fabric for a human body.

Erin pouted. “That’s so smart! I just brought my favorite bikini, I didn’t think about what Enna would wear at all...”

I swallowed hard -- and not just at the thought of what Liz’s butt would look like in that bathing suit. Was Liz the one sending the emails, with all the talk of swimsuits?

But my train of thought was interrupted by Mike sidestepping around her and giving me a bro-fist. “Dude! Finally we get to play together! And hey, Monica, what gives? You helped him with a way more badass costume than mine. How come he gets to look that good, but I look like Gandalf’s younger, less dapper brother?”

Mike’s was wearing grey robes, belted at the waist, and had an honest-to-god floppy, wide-brimmed, pointy wizard’s hat on. He had always been short and stocky to my lanky leanness -- and the voluminous robes weren’t doing him any favors. But the hat had some cool sigils woven into it with gold thread, and so did the robe at the lapels and belt.

He didn’t look bad, exactly. He just looked like ... well, a portly wizard.

Monica looked serious. “You’re right, Mike. What a serious oversight on my part. Chris, remind me what Cedwin’s charisma is, again?”

“Uh... 19, I think?”

She turned to Mike. “And what’s Meldrin’s?”

He let out a good-humored laugh, waving a hand in acquiescence. “Okay, I get it, I get it, Charisma as a dump stat has consequences.”

Monica nodded, smug. “Now. Drinks for everyone and we’ll get started?”

We chattered with each other, getting caught up as we started setting up at the table.

---

“The dryads live in the deep forests that cover the western border of the Night Queen’s kingdom, only accessible by several weeks of hard trekking along game trails. The trees are dense, crowded, and it’s slow going. This isn’t by accident. While not warlike, the dryads have been resisting the Night Queen’s encroaching power for years, and it is by their will that the woods they live in are now an impassable, overgrown tangle. By the time you arrive at the edges of the meadows where the dryads live, you’re all exhaust--yes, Erin?” Monica trailed off, a little irritated at the interruption to her opening monologue.

Erin had raised her hand about halfway through this speech, had started waving it two-thirds of the way through, and was now practically vibrating with enthusiasm. “I have a class feature that lets me navigate through difficult terrain caused by plants with no penalties to my movement. Can I like, lead the party, scout ahead, and so on to make our progress less taxing?”

Monica considered, then nodded. “I had forgotten about that. Yeah, okay. The party would’ve arrived exhausted, but with Enna’s leadership, the unfamiliar, difficult terrain becomes at least somewhat more navigable. It still takes a long time -- precious time during which the Night Queen is undoubtedly rallying her own forces and allies -- but the party is not exhausted when they arrive, so no penalties to checks or anything.”

Erin pumped her first triumphantly.

Monica had us make a few rolls to see if anything else came up during traveling, but nothing major did.

Monica steepled her fingers. “Okay. You arrive to the familiar sight of the vast meadows the dryads dwell in -- well, familiar to all except Cedwin. The dense undergrowth abruptly gives way to tall grasses, open spaces dappled with flowers and sunlight. It is as you remember -- beautiful tree-spirits, wild and free, unencumbered by the burdens of civilization. There are perhaps a few dozen of them. Some frolic; others collect flowers, weaving them into crowns; still others are petting or speaking quietly with some of the animals that roam freely about the meadow. The sounds: quiet laughter, murmurs of conversation, small animal noises. All of them take note of your approach, but don’t engage with you -- except for the one you recall as their leader, Diphylla. She rises from where she has been petting a baby fawn, and walks up to you all.”

“A baby fawn,” Erin whispered, delighted.

Liz snorted.

Monica rose smoothly to her feet, and bowed low -- a movement that did interesting things to her body, under that dress of vines. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mike also staring at Monica.

“Greetings, travelers. You return to us. The forest has brought word of your travels -- we heard of your capture at the hands of the Night Queen. We grieved your misfortune. It is good to see you here. Good to see you free.” Monica paused, and moved over to Enna. “Especially you, Enna. I hope your roots have only grown deeper since we last spoke.”

The voice Monica was using for Diphylla was bright and happy. Monica pulled Erin to her feet and embraced her, kissing her cheek-to-cheek.

Erin giggled. “You smell good! Did you get special perfume for Diphylla?” Then her voice shifted, roleplaying Enna. “It’s good to see you too, forest sister.”

Monica pulled away, orange-red mouth curved into a beaming smile as she gazed at Erin, then glanced at me. “But ... who is your new companion? Welcome, stranger...”

“I am Cedwin, Diphylla. A paladin of the Tower.”

Her smile faded. “The Tower? But ... I can sense the Night Queen’s presence about you...” Monica glanced uncertainly from me to Erin.

Erin, in Enna’s slightly breathless tones, said “Yes, he used to serve her, Diphylla. But no longer. He helped us escape.” Her voice shifted to normal. “Also, Enna has picked up the baby fawn and is petting it.”

Monica ignored the baby fawn comment, but paused, then nodded, as if Diphylla was a little dubious. “Well, if you vouch for him. But he’ll need to undergo the welcoming rite that you all did last time, so I know that his intentions are true.”

“Welcoming rite?”

“It lets her divine your heart, to see if it is pure,” Mike whispered to me. He had an odd, thin, reedy voice he was using for Meldrin. “Don’t worry, it’s kind of fun.”

“Come with me, Cedwin. This will take but a moment.” Monica -- bright green eyes staring into mine -- pulled me into her bedroom.

---

“She leads you to a secluded grove of trees. A simple altar and some benches -- assembled from what is clearly fallen wood -- are arranged here.” Monica gestured for me to sit next to her on the bed, and I did.

“You must have spent a long time in the Night Queen’s presence, paladin. Her dark aura lingers about you. It is ... unpleasant.” Monica wrinkled her nose, using Diphylla’s simple voice.

“I, uh, have, yes...” I was hesitating, unsure. Should I just use the pendant? I assumed this ceremony would likely reveal that my intentions were not pure. The Night Queen was still in my head.

Monica’s closeness was distracting, those alien eyes staring up at me. She smelled good, too, like Erin had said. Some kind of floral perfume, part of the costume, that did indeed remind me of meadows of flowers.

“Now, this will be quick. Some even find it pleasurable. Your companion Meldrin certainly did...” she reached out, and ran her hands softly up my arms, over my shoulders, up to my neck. “I think he’s a bit... touch-starved.”

I snorted at that. I’ll admit, I was finding her portrayal of this dryad convincing. The way she’d transformed her appearance, it was easy to forget it was Monica. And she was playing the part of the dryad well -- there was none of the intoxicating sensuality to her touch that she’d used with the Night Queen, just a kind of gentle warmth.

It was, as Mike had said, nice.

“Mmm, you have strength about you, paladin ... but...” She frowned. “Her influence still rests upon you. I can’t quite pinpoint it, not here...” Her hands moved to my temples.

“Or here ... in spite of the pendant you wear.” Her mouth twisted in distance, but her hand rested on my chest gently enough.

“No, the source is ... lower...” Her palms ran slowly down my sides.

“I labored in her service for many years,” I said, using Cedwin’s voice. “It does not surprise me that you can still feel her presence about me.”

But Diphylla shook her head, those bright-orange lips pursed. “No ... I would expect her aura to linger, but what I’m sensing would mean she still holds some influence on your actions. I must find its source...” Her hands drifted over the outside of my thighs, down to my knees ... and then started back up.

I waited, uncertain. I had expected to get ... well, the usual treatment. Teased. But this was just ... roleplaying with a bit more touching. I was half-tempted just to touch the pendant to Monica, but I wanted to see how this played out first.

Her hands crept up the inside of my thighs, getting closer, closer ... and then, finally, one of her hands came to rest, palm on my balls and fingers wrapping around the base of my cock through the breeches.

Immediately, Diphylla’s eyes narrowed. “I see the truth, now. You have devoted yourself to her, spilled your seed for her,” she hissed. “You are hers to command. She is your Mistress.”

I simultaneously winced and blushed. “H-hey, no, wait a sec, that’s not -- it didn’t --”

“Do your companions know?” Her gaze was steady, unblinking, those bright eyes boring into mine. “They don’t, do they? Their hearts are true. You are a viper in their midst. You are the beetle plague, withering the great oak from within. Unseen, but the heartwood is already eaten, rotting...” Her volume was rising, now, outraged.

I’ll admit, I panicked at how loud she was being, the formerly friendly character suddenly incensed.

And so, worried that the others would hear her, worried what they’d assume, I did the only thing I could think of.

I leaned towards her, lifting the pendant, and touched it to her forehead.

Monica immediately quieted. Her expression shifted from outrage to ... admiring infatuation. She looked up at me, those orange lips parted, and said, “I am ... sorry, for raising my voice that way. How embarrassing. I must make amends. What ... would you ask of me?”

The change in her affect was profound. A small part of me was impressed at how completely Monica was roleplaying this character. A much larger part of me was now admittedly enjoying the look of adoration on her face, so at odds with how she usually was, the characters she usually played.

“Uh ... okay,” I stammered, trying to think quickly. “Don’t ... don’t tell my friends what you just learned.”

She looked hurt. “I would never do that! I’m sure you have your reasons for keeping it from them. It must be important, some wisdom that is beyond me. I should never have doubted you.” The contrition in her voice was palpable.

I did believe that she wouldn’t tell them, now. That note had basically indicated the pendant would be like some kind of charm spell. She was certainly behaving charmed. But I wasn’t sure what else she could do to help us, and I hesitated.

A look of concern crossed Diphylla’s face. “Oh, Cedwin. Please don’t doubt me. I’m sorry I reacted that way. I’ll keep your secrets, do anything you want. I would do anything to show you I am worthy of your trust,” Diphylla said. She put a hand on my thigh for emphasis.

She didn’t say it seductively -- just earnestly -- but the offer hung in the air between us.

To be honest, though, I was mostly just feeling guilty. Yeah, Monica was just playing a character ... but I had just made a decision that really cemented the fact that Cedwin was siding with the Night Queen against the party. I was basically playing a bad guy, now, and I didn’t actually want to be.

I tried to think quickly. Maybe Diphylla could help me. “Do you know of any way to remove the Night Queen’s influence from a person?”

Monica put on a thoughtful, faraway look, ran a hand through that silvery mane of hair. “That’s no easy task, Cedwin. She’s quite powerful...” She trailed off, uncertainly, but then brightened. “There are the Ceremonies of the Grove and River, though. They wouldn’t permanently rid you of the Night Queen’s influence, but they ought to help you if you face her again. The Ceremony of the Grove, especially, relies on your bond with another to protect you from outside influence.”

I had lots of questions about those caveats, but that did sound promising. “Could you help my friends and I perform those?”

“Of course!” The dryad’s tone was eager. “Anything for you. I am sure you can vanquish her; I would be happy to help you and your companions. What else can I do? Please, ask anything of me.”

In spite of myself, I was getting turned on. Some of it was just Monica’s proximity, but it wasn’t just that. Monica, talking in this admiring, infatuated way, was admittedly pretty hot. A welcome change from the condescension I’d gotten from the Night Queen and the Daughter. I could feel my cock, hardening in the tight pants.

And it did seem like the dryad was offering...

But -- even though these circumstances were obviously completely orchestrated by Monica -- it still felt messed up, taking advantage of a charmed NPC.