Dungeon Mistress II
Copyright© 2026 by JayFriday
Chapter 1: The Night the Moon Went Out
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1: The Night the Moon Went Out - The sequel series to Dungeon Mistress! Read that first. The D&D group's relationships are now fractured. Maybe Liz's campaign is an opportunity to grow something new -- or maybe it's just another playground for dominance, sexual tension, and desire. Can the Children of the Sun can renew their relationships, or will they just repeat the patterns of their past?
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Blackmail Coercion Consensual Reluctant Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction High Fantasy Sharing DomSub FemaleDom Humiliation Group Sex Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory Interracial White Male White Female Indian Female Exhibitionism Facial Massage Oral Sex Petting Tit-Fucking Voyeurism Big Breasts Geeks Revenge
~MIKE----
The Moon is a fixture of the cold, cloudless nights that all desert-dwellers must endure. With no tree cover, no foliage to block it, everyone can see it all the time. It shines down on the bone-white sands that give the vast emptiness of the Pale Sea its moniker.
As a result, if you ask anyone in the Pale Sea what they were doing on the night the Moon died, they’ll be able to tell you. Because everyone noticed when it abruptly vanished.
At the time, it was almost universally regarded as an ill omen.
It did come back the next night, of course. As if nothing had gone wrong.
And some people relaxed.
But those who watch the heavens -- those who don’t just look, but truly see -- remained wary. Everything does not just go back to normal after a celestial event like that.
It portended more.
And, in the months and years that followed, it became clear that something more was indeed happening. Over the last two decades, the Lunar cycle has slowly but inexorably lost its symmetry, distorted itself in alarming ways. The Moon was gone from the sky longer and longer; the New Moon lingered, took longer to wax full, waned back to a crescent ever more quickly.
Now, twenty years on, the full Moon lasts for mere minutes instead of several nights. Even with the naked eye, without the use of magic or specialized instruments, you can watch the luminous disk begin diminishing in the sky nearly the moment it fills.
The natural balance is badly disrupted. The Moon is one of the great Doctrines of the land, and as its power wanes, the shape of things is changing.
Astronomers wonder what will happen once the Full Moon no longer occurs. Once the dance of the heavens isn’t just distorted, but irrevocably changed.
Of course, not all regard it as an ill omen.
For with the influence of the Moon waning, the Sun reigns supreme.
And, after all, there were four children born that night, twenty years ago, while the Moon was absent from the sky.
Born in the Pale Sea -- unquestionably, the unforgiving land of the Sun.
Each child marked by the Sun, in their own way.
Each destined to play an important role, once they came of age.
Liz paused, looked up from the notebook she’d been reading aloud out of, and took a sip of her drink. She smiled at us across the coffee table, at the two of us who were sitting on her couch. “It’s good to see you guys. Welcome to the new campaign. I’m calling it The Children of the Sun. It takes place nearly two decades after Monica’s game.”
Fiona applauded, politely. “Wonderful! You should do voiceover work for movie trailers. So we killed the Moon last campaign when we stopped Monica? That is so cool. I’ve decided that I am a Dungeons and Dragons girlie now.”
Liz gave Fiona an appreciative nod. “Thanks. The Moon does appear to be dying, yes. Whether these are its death throes or there’s an opportunity to save it -- and whether its demise is cause for celebration, or portends ill -- remains to be seen. As to whether to blame yourselves, or the Night Queen...” Liz shrugged, and gave us a little grin. “We’ll play and find out the answers.”
Fiona nodded, eagerly. “So we make characters now?”
“Yep,” Liz agreed. Then glanced at me. “Mike, any questions before we get started?”
“Uh, nothing yet,” I said, absentmindedly.
I had done my best to listen to Liz. I was, admittedly, having trouble focusing enough to contribute to the conversation.
I was too busy watching Fiona.
I hadn’t talked to her since that campaign finale with Monica. That had been months ago.
So her presence next to me on Liz’s couch was absolutely intoxicating.
She was just so alluring. Her slight British accent made her sound posh, kind of upscale. Her pretty face, expressive lips, big eyes, sharp cheekbones. And I was helplessly stealing glances at the lines of her body, the way her dark hair in that short bob just barely kissed her shoulders, the smooth lines of her neck, her collarbones. The dark skin in her tank top.
Whatever bra she was wearing must be a thin one. I thought I could see just the hint of one of her nipples, a little ridge tenting the fabric.
Before you ask, yeah, I recognized that I had a crush that was dangerously close to bordering on obsessive behavior.
I didn’t care.
Well, that’s not quite right. It wasn’t that I didn’t care. It was more that based on the way she’d played with me in the last campaign, I didn’t think she cared.
If anything, I think she liked it.
The last few months had been tough. I didn’t have Fiona’s phone number, or her email. I didn’t want to ask Monica for it, obviously. I knew she’d just tease me endlessly, without ever giving it to me.
The other options who might be able to put me in touch with Fiona -- presumably Liz, maybe Chris, as far as I knew -- would require me to have a conversation I didn’t want to have about what had happened in the last campaign.
I’d tried to find Fiona online myself, and failed. She’d said she’d done social media stuff or content creation or something, but it must not be under her real name.
So I’d decided to bide my time. I’d been looking forward to this character creation session for months. A chance to finally talk to Fiona. Find out if she’d had as much fun last campaign as I had.
And then we’d had so much trouble scheduling that Liz had elected to do two different character creation sessions.
The fact that this one had turned out just to be me and Fiona was perfect, from my perspective.
For one thing, neither Liz or I knew Fiona well, so it meant the small talk was pretty minimal. If it had just been me and Liz, we would’ve had to finally hash out how the last campaign had gone. I mean, I could tell Liz wanted to chew me out -- I recognized the way the little muscle in her jaw clenched when she looked my way.
But I could also tell that she didn’t want to do it in front of Fiona. Maybe because Fiona was Monica’s friend. Maybe because Liz didn’t know her that well. Hell, maybe because Liz could tell I had a crush on Fiona, and didn’t want to embarrass me.
Whatever the reason, I was grateful this is how things had turned out.
Fiona saw me looking her way, and gave me a secret little smile. “I’ve never made a character before, Mike, so you’ll have to help me. The only character sheets I’ve even seen are Arcanatrix Ravenna’s ... and that dryad’s, I guess.”
“Sure, happy to help,” I said. I tried not to gush. Play it cool. I directed my attention back to Liz. “We start at level one, Liz?”
She nodded. “You start at level one. You’ll both be playing Children of the Sun, who were born on the night the moon died. So your characters are twenty years old at this point. Otherwise, it’s up to you.”
I had some thoughts about a character I might make, but wanted to hear what Fiona was doing, first. “Any ideas about what kind of character you want to play?”
She shrugged, ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t really know what the options are. Spellcasting was complicated. So maybe not a spellcaster,” she said slowly, and then brightened. “I want a character where I’d get to wear some pants, like you were wearing last game, Liz. Pants are fun.”
I glanced at Fiona’s legs. She was wearing jeans.
Extremely flattering jeans.
“Fun,” I echoed, in agreement. My eyes drifted along the length of her thighs, the way her pants hugged them. How they clung to the swell of her tight little butt.
I remembered what it had felt like, her thighs against mine, when she’d been riding me in the campaign finale.
“Well, then you’ve got a ton of options, Fiona. Actually, let me go grab the books, I should’ve gotten them earlier...” Liz wandered into another room.
“So how have you been, Mike? Long time no see.” Fiona’s voice was full of quiet, soft amusement.
I was a moment slow in realizing that she was watching me instead of Liz; I pulled my gaze off her body up to meet Fiona’s dark eyes. “I’m, uh, good, Fiona. How’re you?”
“Good. Glad to be playing again. What kind of character do you think you’ll make? Meldrin was so fun, I thought. Deliciously flawed.” Her lips curved into a smile. “You’ve set the bar high for your next one.”
My breath practically stopped on the way she’d said deliciously and fun. It was the first time she’d said anything to me directly since we’d both arrived. Certainly the first time she’d ever complimented me.
That was a compliment, right?
“Uh, thanks,” I stammered, suddenly tongue-tied as she held my gaze. “I-I’m not sure yet, I thought maybe I’d see what you were gonna make, i-if you wanted to-”
“Found them,” Liz said cheerfully, coming back into the room holding a set of rulebooks, which she thumped down on the coffee table. “Take a look through the Classes section, Fiona. Let me know if you have questions.” She handed her one of the books.
Fiona started thumbing through the book.
“What about you, Mike?” Liz looked at me, directly.
I’d actually spent almost as much time thinking about this as I had about Fiona. “Oh, I was thinking maybe an illusionist wizard this time.” I tried to say it casually.
“Were you indeed,” murmured Fiona, not looking up. “That sounds kind of similar to Meldrin, though.”
“I mean, i-it’d be a completely different character,” I said, defensively. If this was anything like the last campaign, I wanted a character that could bend the rules with magic. I could think of all kinds of interesting things I might be able to do with illusions.
Things that could create some interesting role-playing scenes with Fiona.
Liz rolled her eyes. “Fiona’s right. C’mon, dude. I know you like to play spellcasters, but you should switch it up. Play something else, and give Chris or Monica a chance to play one if they want.”
I flushed. I could hear in her tone a kind of odd suspicion -- like Liz could hazard a guess as to why I might want illusion magic.
And I wasn’t sure how to justify the choice. She had a point.
“Okay, okay,” I acquiesced. “Meldrin was fun, but I should switch it up. I’ll play a different character. Any races off-limits?”
Liz shook her head. “You all will be starting in a big desert, the Pale Sea, far south of where the Night Queen’s realm and the action of our last campaign. The desert-dweller nomads welcome all kinds; it’s a bit of a melting pot.”
“Maybe I’ll play someone with a sword,” Fiona said, decisively. “I’m not that good at the rules for combat; you’ll watch my back, Mike, right?” She gave me a winsome, hopeful look.
I didn’t think she intended it, but I couldn’t help a quick glance at her back as she sat next to me. The tank top she was wearing was thin; I could see the little ridges of muscle on her lean back, the straps and band of her bra.
“Right,” I responded, belatedly.
“Which classes are... melee ones, Liz?” Fiona asked.
“Well, let’s see ... Fighters, Barbarians ... Rogues and Bards can be, I guess, Rangers too ... Paladins, and Monks...”
“Can you tell me about them?”
I only half-listened to Liz answering Fiona’s questions. If I was going to play a melee character alongside Fiona, what to play?
I tried to think about a melee class with mechanics that might...
Might what? I had a moment of cringe-inducing self-awareness. What was I doing?
But it wasn’t cringe-inducing enough to stop my train of thought. I knew what I was doing.
I was looking for mechanics that would let me create sexual situations with Fiona.
And that was what I wanted. Maybe Liz was going to try to run a different game than Monica had; I didn’t know. But if she didn’t...
“I’ll be a paladin, I think,” Fiona said, idly flipping through the book. “That’s what Chris played, right? They’re pretty?”
Liz laughed. “Yeah, I mean, they don’t have to be pretty, but they’re charismatic. And they’re melee fighters. Yours won’t be like Chris, though; he was a paladin devoted to the Tower.”
Fiona’s lips parted in mock dismay. “Oh, but I love a good tower-worshipping.” She ran her tongue along her lip, suggestively.
It was the first openly-sexual comment that any of us had made. There was a silence. I felt my pulse quicken. For a second I thought Liz might have it out with us, then and there -- tell us that she wasn’t running that kind of game. Tell Fiona that what Monica had done was fucked up, that what she’d done to me had been fucked up. Tell me how disappointed she was.
But then Liz barked out a laugh, and the tension faded. “Sorry to disappoint. Everyone in the Pale Sea is devoted to the Sun, first and foremost. But paladins of the Sun do get a few special choices in terms of the oaths they swear.”
“Oaths?” I was curious -- paladins typically picked an oath, but the rulebooks defined the options.
Liz nodded. “I was hoping one of you guys would want to play a paladin or cleric; I made up some homebrew options for characters with divine magic given how prominently the Sun will be featured in the campaign. The Flamekeepers are the religious order in the Pale Sea that worships the Sun, and they’ve got some specific traditions.”
I blinked. It sounded like Liz had done a lot of work in adding to Monica’s campaign world; Monica had never mentioned the Flamekeepers before. “Wow. Okay.”
She continued. “The Sun obviously embodies many virtues. Paladins of the Sun pick one to dedicate themselves to. They each represent a different aspect of the Sun’s power. You can choose between, um, let’s see...” Liz shuffled through some of her papers to another page. “Destruction... ”
“Okay, that sounds fun,” Fiona leaned forward on the couch, interested.
“... Passion...” Liz continued.
“Ooo,” Fiona giggled.
Passion. I swallowed, hard. I was looking at the way Fiona’s tank top rode up her hips as she leaned, exposing the smooth brown skin at the small of her back.
“... or Purity.” Liz finished.
“How clever and interesting of you, Liz,” Fiona said thoughtfully. Then she glanced at me, a sparkle in her eye. “What do you think I should pick, Mike?”
“Um...” My face was red. I thought she should pick passion. Obviously.
Fiona didn’t wait for me to reply; instead, she gave me a smile that was almost cruel. “Tell me more about the Oath of Purity, Liz.”
What?
Liz slid a piece of paper across to us. “You’d have three tenets to uphold if your paladin takes the Oath of Purity.”
I glanced down at the paper alongside Fiona, reading it silently.
Integrity. Speak only truth, that your words may be as pure as your person.
Innocence. Never suffer degradation of your body or soul.
Virtue. Bring the Sun’s rays to cleanse every corner of darkness.
I was aghast. “So, wait, not only can her character not lie, this makes it sound like she’s almost sworn a vow of ch-”
But Fiona didn’t let me finish the thought. “Perfect,” she said, with satisfaction. “This’ll be so fun.”
Liz gave Fiona a considered but approving nod. “Huh. Not what I expected you to pick, but I agree. Well, great. Let’s figure out your stats and stuff. Did you want to be a human paladin, or...”
I sat in stunned silence, participating a little robotically as Fiona worked on her characters stats with Liz, who helpfully told here where to allocate points.
I had assumed Fiona would want to play ... well. Someone dominant. Teasing. Not a character whose core value was purity.
Liz was peppering Fiona with questions. “Think you want your character to use a sword and shield? Or like, a big two-handed weapon?”
Fiona put on a pious expression. “A shield, I think. That she might better protect her own sanctity and the sanctity of others.”
I sighed. This felt like it was heading in an increasingly disappointing direction.
Liz and Fiona finished up her character over the next few minutes. “Okay, Fiona, all you have to do is give your character a name. One down, one to go! I’m going to run to the restroom quick. Mike, you should start working on your character.”
Liz headed for the bathroom.
Fiona gave me an unreadable look. “So what do you think of my character? It’s the first one I’ve ever made!”
“I, uh ... it seems like it’ll be interesting,” I said.
“Aw,” Fiona pouted. “Did I do a bad job?”
“No, it’s just...” I trailed off. What was I going to say? That I hoped she’d make someone who was more slutty?
“C’mon,” she said, all earnest innocence. “I can tell you don’t like it ... Why? You were hoping I’d pick passion, weren’t you? But I’m not playing Ravenna again, or a charmed dryad trying to seduce you.”
I made a noncommittal sound. I hated how transparent my desire was -- but I could hardly help it.
Fiona could clearly see what I was thinking. “I think this’ll be fun, too. I’ve got a few ideas. What do you think you’ll make? You’ll still watch my back, right? I don’t really understand how melee combat works...”
“Sure, yeah ... I just, um, didn’t figure you as wanting to play this kind of paladin.” And then a thought occurred. I couldn’t pick what she played, but I could pick what I played. “ ... I think I’ll probably make a half-orc barbarian.”
Fiona blinked. “Barbarian? Sounds brutish. What’s a half-orc?”
I grabbed one of the books, flipped through to a drawing: a tusked, green-skinned, musclebound, savage-looking hulk holding a huge maul.
“Ooh, so big and strong,” Fiona commented, coquettishly.
I could feel my cock stir at the way she said the words.
Encouraged, I continued. “Yeah, kind of a berserker type of character,” I said. “Big two-handed weapon. Especially if you’re using a sword and shield, it would be a good melee complement.”
“Well, if you really want to play a muscly, brutish barbarian, I guess that’s fine...” Fiona was giving me an unreadable look. “I just ... figured you might want to play something, y’know, more your size.”
I felt an almost disorienting rush of blood to my cock that left me lightheaded. “W-what-”
I felt her hand slide onto my thigh, start traveling up it. “It would be kind of funny,” she said. “Big, strong, lusty barbarian in a fight ... but then in bed...”
“Th-that’s not, uh... ah---” I let out a groan as her hand finally reached my cock, palming it through my jeans.
“I mean, you can’t exactly deliver what that kind of character has to offer, can you?”
I couldn’t even respond. I had been thinking about the way she’d teased me, the way she’d touched me, for months. This was what I had wanted. I was so hard.
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