The cave’s air was cold, but the water was much worse. She pushed him directly into the pool and didn’t let go of the chain in her hand. Freezing, like a thousand needles making their way into his skin, the shock left his muscles numb until he found the strength to move. Dorian hissed as his heart skipped a beat. He surfaced with a sharp gasp and eyes closed tightly, fighting for control.
The Queen’s brows rose; the chain, now wrapped around her finger, tightened with a sharp tug.
“What’s wrong, my little bug? Too cold for you?”
She smirked, crossing one bare leg over the other, sitting with just her toes dipping into the water.
He gritted his teeth and refused to answer. Instead, he submerged again, hearing her giggle breaking against the water as a muffled echo in his ears.
“We should get nice and fresh before dinner. I want you to meet some of my servants. And I bet you’re starving, aren’t you?”
At the mention of food, Dorian shuddered. Oh yes, he was hungry—but it wasn’t a big deal. He had grown used to going days without eating since being forced to live on his own. So, other than the promise of food, he was far more interested in who those servants might be.
After the bath, the Queen led Dorian through a different part of the castle. They had to climb a set of slick stairs, getting closer to the surface, but there was no sunlight.
She stopped at a door along the dark corridor and motioned him inside.
Dorian stepped forward—and froze.
Another man was already there, lying sprawled across a mess of pillows that tried to warm the cold, stone floor. He looked asleep, his face slack with a drunk-like contentment. Even as the Queen unhooked the chain from Dorian’s neck and commanded him to sit down, the man remained unfazed.
“Here’s your roommate.” She ran her finger on the dirty chain. “When the sun sets, someone will come for you. Until then, think about what you’re willing to sacrifice to please your Queen. It’s tradition here—prove yourself an ally… or end up as feed for my babies.”
She winked and turned around. “See you later, little bug.”
And with that, the door shut behind her.
Dorian sat in silence, staring at the sleeping man. He looked young, barely any facial hair, and though he seemed a slave, he wasn’t skinny. Dorian nudged the unconscious body with his foot.
“How can you sleep in a place like this, for fuck’s sake! Hey!” Rising to his knees, he yanked the man’s shirt.
The stranger stirred, pushing Dorian’s hand away. “Fucking gods… what do you want? Eh?” His sleepy eyes narrowed as he studied the new face. “Damn. Who are you?”
Rough-voiced and still drowsy, he rubbed his eyes and yawned, but stayed sprawled across the floor.
Dorian sighed and dropped onto the cot beside him, stealing a filthy pillow.
“Name’s Dorian Hart. You? How’d you end up here?”
The man scratched his head. “I’m Roy. Been here… a month, maybe?” He jerked his chin toward the chalk tally on the wall. “Had company at first, but they bolted. Left me behind.” He shrugged. “Now I just give some blood, eat what they bring, and sleep when I can. They got a lot of wine in here.”
Dorian blinked at him. “Oh? I might have met your old man. Poor bastard’s losing it without you.”
Roy chuckled, shifting to give him space. “He wanted me in the army. Fuck that. I like eating, sleeping, and drinking wine. Got all that here.” He leaned back, hands behind his head. “No complaints.”
It took Dorian a moment. Then it hit. “Hold on—you said you give blood? What the hell does that mean?”
The young man shrugged again, stretching lazily. “Sacrifice, or whatever she calls it. Didn’t know what else to do. She reminded me of a vampire, so I figured blood was the safest bet.” He pursed his lips. “No clue what she does with it, but she took the deal. Better than becoming dinner, huh?”
A sacrifice. Dorian sighed and tilted his head back, lost in thought.
What could he really offer her? What would be the smart choice? The Queen had said she sought someone who could tame her… and that thought was the only thing occupying his mind.
Roy and Dorian talked quietly until the sun hid below the horizon and the prison sank into darkness thick enough that it could be cut with a knife. Just when he could no longer see his own hand in front of him, the door creaked open.
It wasn’t the Queen who entered. It was a young woman of a petite figure, holding a single candle that cast trembling shadows against the cold stone walls. Her long black hair fell in messy waves. Her face looked emotionless and stone-cold.
She wore a black dress that reached her knees, cinched tightly with a corset. An apron was tied neatly around her waist, hinting at her role as a servant.
“Dorian Hart. Our Queen awaits you.” She bowed briefly, pushing the door wider. “I’m Evelyn, the Queen’s maid, sent to escort you to the dining room.” Her stone-cold eyes flicked between the two men. “In fact, we don’t even have a proper dining room. It’s more of a basement where our Queen feeds her spiders. So don’t expect anything fancy to eat.”
Dorian shrugged and got up, easily towering over her small figure. He stretched and looked down, weighing her in his mind, but she remained unfazed. He could crush her throat if he wanted and run without a second thought. She probably knew it. Yet she didn’t flinch when he slipped past to leave the cramped cell, his hand ruffling her hair in passing.
Evelyn didn’t let his tease rattle her. Calm and professional, she led him to the basement, reeking of damp earth and decaying meat. Cocoons of all sizes, from tiny insects to as large as small mammals, lined the room, some abandoned, others long past their prime. But some of them were fresh and still covered in blood. It made Dorian want to vomit.
Two other servants were already inside, sitting on the floor and waiting patiently. They looked like fragile twin dolls, one male and one female, both strikingly pale, reminding him of living corpses.
The Queen was already there, pacing slowly from one side of the room to the other. Her long claw scraped a piece of raw meat, tearing off a tiny portion, which she placed between her red lips. When she noticed Dorian and Evelyn, she quickly withdrew her finger and wiped it on the male servant’s robe. He didn’t even flinch.
“I brought the man, as instructed,” Evelyn said, her tone confident as she bowed before the Queen.
Dorian smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. “You didn’t have a tinier bodyguard? Pretty reckless of you. Gods know what could’ve happened.”
Evelyn pursed her lips, but the Queen only laughed. “Nothing happened, right? So what’s the point of worrying?”
She flicked the black cape behind her and pressed her round ass against the thick web. It gave under her weight, sagging like a thick hammock-like throne. A few of the smaller spiderlings stirred at the movement, scurrying onto her pale skin. She didn’t flinch as they tickled her skin with spindly legs, guiding any who tried to burrow between her ample breasts back out again.
She noticed Dorian’s gaze fixed on the spiders grazing her skin. Her long nail brushed over the glossy legs of one of them, and the creature responded instantly, nibbling on her skin. A faint shiver rippled down her body as it drank in quick, eager pulls before retreating to hide between the swell of her breasts.
“So disobedient,” she whispered with a smile, “and always starving…”
Dorian’s mouth went dry. He wasn’t sure if he should be afraid or disgusted. The Queen didn’t let the silence hang for too long.
“Now, Dorian Hart,” she started, swinging gently in her throne. “You have crossed into my domain, just as countless men have before you. So tell me, my dear little bug—before the eyes of my three loyal servants—what is it you dare to offer me? What shall you sacrifice?”
Evelyn tensed at the Queen’s resonant voice, her eyes flicking nervously to Dorian, who remained silent longer than a confident man should.
“My Queen,” he began with dry mouth, “I couldn’t help but notice… that humans have treated you poorly. I can only imagine what has happened here, things you would never wish to happen again.” He paused, letting the words hang. When no one spoke, he continued, “I would like… to change that opinion of humans. To show you that we can give, not only take. And for that, I would need a chance… a chance to repay… the favor from the basement. If you would allow me, of course.”
A long, heavy silence filled the room. The Queen swayed in her silk, her gaze locked on his body language, studying him. After several stretched seconds, she giggled.
“Look at you, little bug. Not very creative, are you? But you can speak with some respect, I’ll give you that.” She rose from the silk and crossed her arms beneath her breasts.
“So, my dear Dorian. Let’s put things straight. I don’t let anyone touch or taste me just like that. And you will not be allowed inside me until I have enough proof that you’re worth it.”
Her tongue lingered against her teeth, a smile curving her lips as her gaze slid to Evelyn. “Since you already proposed, I’ll indulge my curiosity. Are you all bark and no bite, little bug? We’ll see. Perhaps you’ll prove yourself useful.”
Dorian raised an eyebrow, unsure of what she could mean. Evelyn, on the other hand, clenched her fists around her apron. Her small frame looked even smaller when she curled her shoulders.
“Test me how, my Queen?” he asked quietly, forcing calm over the knot of anxiety in his chest.
The Queen’s gaze lingered on Evelyn, who stood stiff, her breath caught as if she already knew the answer.
“I have the most loyal and sweetest tester,” the Queen purred, though her tone carried the weight of command. “Just for this occasion. Eve! Come closer.”
The maid nodded and obeyed in silence, stepping forward slowly, until she stood before the silken throne.
“What is it, my sweet girl?” the Queen whispered, combing her claws gently through Eve’s hair, almost like a mother soothing a child, even when her eyes lingered far too long on Eve’s lips. “My obedient little doll, aren’t you?”
Evelyn nodded slowly once again, obeying before a command had even left the Queen’s lips.
“Good girl. Now… remove your underthings.”
The maid’s tongue darted across her lips, and her gaze dropped to the floor.
“My Queen… I do not wear any.”
The Queen’s brow lifted, tilting her head as if considering this carefully.
“Oh? Pray tell, what boldness brings you to such… audacity?”
Evelyn’s cheeks flamed, the flush creeping up her neck.
“My Queen, you commanded me long ago never to wear them again. Perhaps the wine left your memory hazy…” Her voice wavered, stiff with nervous formality. She sensed the Queen was testing her.
“Your word is law… the pact—”
A sharp, playful hush cut her off. The Queen’s smile widened, long and languid.
“You are such a perfect little doll,” she murmured with a mocking smirk. “I see I must review all commands given in my cups… one never knows what little souls might have agreed to.”
Eve just kept her mouth shut and back straight. The Queen once again brought her attention to Dorian. She snapped her fingers and moved away so that her maid could have all the silken throne to herself.
Dorian was confused, unsure about what he should do. He stepped closer to Eve, trying to communicate with her through his eyes—to see if she was okay. The maid looked back at him and smiled gently. Then her hands clenched the edges of her skirt, lifting it slowly… revealing her slim, pale thighs and delicate mound between them, covered with a fine down of black hair.
The Queen snapped her fingers again. The maid toppled onto the web, leaving her skirt up and her body exposed. The silk was sticky, not enough to trap her entirely, but enough to make every movement difficult. Eve cast a cool, measured glance at Dorian, while the Queen idly toyed with her maid’s hair.
“To prove yourself,” the Queen murmured, “you will now attend to my dear maid. She’s a sweet little doll—obedient, honest… a perfect companion to test your skill.” Her eyes flicked briefly to the bulge in Dorian’s pants. “And remember… only your hands and lips. Nothing else is allowed.”
Dorian nodded, fully grasping the weight of the situation. Eve lay sprawled across the sticky web, her arms stretched wide, her legs parted yet tense. The inward angle of her knees betrayed the strain in her body. She didn’t look afraid—more defeated, utterly obedient. Like the doll the Queen had spoken of.
The other two servants sat silently, pressed close to each other, their eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before them.
Dorian approached her, searching her eyes for any hint of resistance. She turned her face away, but when his hand slid onto her thigh, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin of her inner leg, a sharp gasp escaped her throat. From the corner of his vision, he caught the Queen’s mocking smirk, as she was unable to hide her excitement.
Leaning in, Dorian brushed his lips against Eve’s neck, close enough for his breath to tickle her ear. “I’m sorry for being a dick earlier,” he whispered, his voice low, almost contrite. He hoped she hadn’t taken his teasing to heart.
She gave no reply—only another shuddering gasp when his thumb grazed her nipple through the fabric. A wicked smile tugged at his lips as his hand cupped her breast, kneading it, while rubbing her pointy nipple in slow circles. He didn’t want to undress her if she chose to only expose her lower parts to him, but he lingered on her modest breasts anyway, making her feel how desired they were. His teeth found the soft curve of her neck, sinking in just enough to make her squirm. This time, she couldn’t hide her reaction, her body arching toward him despite her silence. She was liking his touch; he could tell that. His mouth watered as he was kissing and biting her breasts through her thin clothes, feeling her nipples erect in his mouth.
Her legs finally relaxed and eased apart, offering themselves. Dorian left a last kiss on her pulse point before descending. Her folds glistened with arousal, parting ever so slightly to reveal the delicate pink slit hidden within. He realized he had been staring a moment too long; her slim thighs started to tremble from anticipation. He cupped her knee, pressing soft kisses there before slowly trailing down her inner thigh toward the heat between her legs.
“What is it?” he murmured, blowing hot air against her inner thigh. “Are you desperate for something?”
Eve arched her back, letting out a soft groan. He could tell his question had annoyed her—and he relished every second of it. Every desperate gasp, every tremor of her legs, every shaky breath.
Finally, he indulged her. His tongue pressed flat against her pussy, tracing a long, deliberate path, the tip swirling at her clit hood. His fingers, still holding her legs apart, moved toward the main course. One finger circled her entrance slowly, applying just enough pressure. Then another joined, easing inside, each movement deliberate, each shiver from her igniting him further. He opened his fingers inside her tight channel to tease her.
“Ah… Fuck… fuck, not so fast…” she let out a shaky breath, but her body betrayed her, adjusting eagerly to his rhythm. He watched her face intently as he moved, and he was sure that she showed no discomfort—quite the opposite.
Sweat dripped from her skin as he worked her relentlessly. His lips devoured her like the sweetest candy he had ever tasted. The Queen’s presence worked as a reminder that his life quite literally depended on bringing that girl to orgasm. His teeth grazed her clit, and encouraged by her moans, he sank into it, sucking with a slow, possessive hunger. He could feel himself getting hard, his cock begging for attention while his tongue was busy sipping on her juices.
The Queen rested her chin on her palm, a slow smile spreading across her face as if she were being presented a masterpiece. Dorian tried to meet her gaze, but the weight of her scrutiny only left him flustered.
He brought one hand to Eve’s breast, while his other worked on her slippery hole, pumping his fingers in and out, taking care to curl and hit that sweet spot inside her that made her legs shake. He pressed his mouth to her wet folds, drooling a bit and breathing in her intoxicating, musky scent. Encouraged by the sounds of her unraveling, he moved faster, riding the rhythm of her rising pleasure. He could feel his wrist getting sore from the movements, but he kept going.
Eve’s eyes brimmed with tears, her mouth open in helpless gasps as she tried to resist the waves of pleasure coursing through her. Even her disciplined self couldn’t hold back. One skilled caress of his thick fingers, one lingering kiss, and her body shivered violently, betraying her completely.
Dorian kept his lips pressed on her slit, licking slowly and helping her ride the waves of ecstasy. Her hips arched involuntarily, pressing into his mouth, and he didn’t feel like leaving her just yet.
He stayed there until her trembling subsided and her breathing began to steady. Only then did he rise from his knees, eyes lingering on the aftermath of what he had done.
The Queen, seated like a predator admiring her prey, clapped her hands with a smile on her lips. “Get her back to her feet,” she commanded. “I want to hear the verdict.”
The twins stepped forward and cut the silk that held Evelyn upright. Her limbs were heavy, almost useless, as she slumped to the floor. Panting, she sank onto her knees and leaned forward to catch her breath. The Queen’s unwavering gaze didn’t waver. She tapped a claw against her chin, waiting for her maid’s words.
Evelyn cleared her throat, wiped saliva from her lips and cheeks, and then looked at the Queen, ignoring Dorian.
“My Queen, I don’t think he’s good enough.”
Dorian’s eyebrows shot up, heat rising across his face. “Huh? Excuse me?” he blurted before he could stop himself. He wasn’t sure if she meant to humiliate him—or if she truly believed it.
The Queen laughed, clapping her hands. “Oh? And here I was, holding high expectations…” A sigh, a roll of her eyes, and Dorian’s fists clenched. “But it’s all right. I don’t need another sex slave. Little interest in that.”
Evelyn rose from the floor, adjusting her apron. “I would advise giving him another chance, my Queen…”
The Queen nodded, waving her hand dismissively. “Ah, I surely will. But first,” she stepped closer to Dorian, who remained frozen, still reeling from Evelyn’s words. The Queen’s claw scratched lightly beneath his chin, drawing a drop of blood. “A punishment is in order. I do not like being taken lightly.”
