Chapter Text
You are sitting in the lavish master chamber of the ornate palace you call home. Gazing into your reflection in the vanity mirror combing your unnaturally long black hair, getting lost in thought. It’s really all there is to do when Master Astarion is away on extended business trips like this.
It does help, too, that before he left he told you to think of him while he was gone. It was a command. So you obey. And you think.
You’ve been the Dark Consort of the Crimson Palace for you don't know how long. Time started to blend together around the first century of your undead life. Around that time, you had suspicions that Astarion may be dulling your mind with his power over you.
Yes- that’s right. You began questioning him about when he would grant you a drop of his blood like he said. That’s when-
Suddenly, your mind falls blank.
Wait…What were you thinking about again?
Right. Astarion. Your beloved Master who has taken care of you in all ways. You have everything you can ever imagine. You are so happy here.
You know somewhere in your mind that you were once a very powerful, talented Cleric reigning from Nimbral. Before you were the hero of Baldur’s Gate, you spent your time traveling The Forgotten Realms tending to the sick and needy. A mere blimp in your immortal lifetime. And feigns in comparison to what you do now as the consort to the Vampire Ascendant.
“Hero of Baldur’s Gate” rings in your mind for a moment. A title that hasn’t been used in reference to you in lifetimes. You almost forgot you had a life before the Crimson Palace. Before Cazador saw that Astarion was a far more suitable candidate for the rite of Profane Ascension than he. A life before you and Astarion took down the all powerful Netherbrain, saving Baldur’s Gate from impending doom.
You believe there may have been others there with you, but the memory of their faces is dull. You used to write letters to them behind Astarion’s back, you recall. Once he caught you doing it, they dissipated from your thoughts. He began limiting you from contacting those outside the palace walls after that. He said he was protecting you from yourself. That they no one cared for you like he does.
And he is right. He is the only one who knows what is best for you. Damn, you lost your train of thought again.
You were reminiscing…
Yes that’s right- when you and Astarion single handedly took down the Netherbrain, you were a very independent person. Did everything alone and didn’t answer to anyone. What a fool you were, to think you can exist without someone to serve. Without him. To think you can survive alone. You’re happy you’ve learned your lesson. Master is a wonderful teacher, after all.
Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the multitude of locks on the chamber door being undone and jump to your feet. You brush your hands down your sheer red nightgown, smoothing out any imperfections before you're finally where you belong. In the gaze of your beloved master. You tremble at the thought of being in his vicinity again.
The door swings open revealing the magnificent form of a man that you have the honor of belonging to. He’s well kept with the most extravagant of garb, ornately decorated with the finest of gold beading and elaborate designs positioned in a way that compliments his flawless physique perfectly.
Your master begins to saunter into the bedroom where you are awaiting his arrival.
“There’s my perfect pet.” Astarion says as he approaches you with a predatory intent visible on his face.
He is expectant. And right to be. Your connection as master and spawn grants him full, unadulterated access to you. Your mind and body, his to command and compel at all times. And compel he did. During the entirety of his business trip he planted the seeds of lust into your mind. What he wants to do to you, what positions he will have you in, what he will have you do to him. All engraved in your mind like a mantra. A prayer to your dark God.
All along with the command to not pleasure yourself and not to orgasm until he commands it. You had no choice but to obey. But it was fine, this is all the routine at this point.
The first few times he had done this dance to you, you had been angry. You had been furious at him for putting you through such agonizing pain. You saw it as torture then. How adorably ignorant you once were.
No, this is no torture. He is doing it for you. He is but preparing you for him-the way in which you belong.
His slender hands graze your hips and his touch sends an electric bolt through your undead frame so strong that it draws a moan from your mouth.
“Tsk..” Astarion looks down onto you with an exaggerated face of pity “Seems I may have left you basking in my absence for a touch too long. If a brush through fabric is enough to have you scream for me, that is.”
You feel a wave of shame rush over you. Gods, how stupid could you be. You're pathetic for such a shameless display of your desperation. The feeling that you may have disappointed your master has made you feel like you deserve to be in the lesson room for at least a tenday.
Astarion places his hand under your chin, gently directing your gaze into his eyes. “That's exactly the way I want you. You are perfect. So very eager. And…” he moves his grip from your hips to graze the outside of your folds, “...oh so ready for me.”
He was right. You were drenched beyond comprehension, your fluids one more touch away from dripping down your legs. Having your master’s approval sends a wave of euphoria through you. One that no potion, no charm spell, no mushroom spore from the darkest points of the Underdark could grant.
How lucky are you. Your master is so kind to allow you such a feeling. You almost feel satiated. Almost.
“Oh Master, how I’ve missed you so.” you cry out, almost sobbing.
He moves his hand from your heat to the small of your back and the other to the back of your head, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Shh…” he coos, gently scratching your scalp. You start to sob into his shoulder. So overwhelmed with emotion that the only way to express it is to cry.
“Pet if you keep this up I might start to feel bad for you.” he scoffs while still holding you. “I love to hear you cry for me, but this seems a bit pathetic. Don’t you think so, dearest?”
“I-I know I’m-” you pull back and put your hands on your face. Partially to wipe your tears and partially to hide your embarrassment from him. “I’m sorry, Master.”
Astarion lets out a hearty laugh that makes you feel meek for a moment. “Darling, it’s okay! It’s not like you can help it.” he says as he makes his way to the bed.
You are confused but ultimately so overjoyed by the presence of your beloved that you don’t pay mind to it. Instead you focus on following him to the bed you share.
You watch in awe as he unbuttons and removes his coat to lay lazily on the mattress. He pats the unoccupied side of the sheets granting you permission to join him and your feet make their way to the bed. You lay on your side next to him, admiring his beautiful features. Thinking how lucky you are to belong to such a glorious creature as him.
He settles himself in, propped up into a seated position by the lushest, plushest pillows gold could grant.
“Okay darling, are you ready to show me how good you were in my absence?”
Your eyes light up and the underlying heat in your core grows exponentially. You nod with the enthusiasm of someone starved being offered a feast. You jump off the bed and begin to take off your nightgown.
“Not so fast,” your body freezes in place, limbs unable to move. “I don’t recall saying you could strip for me, little one. I thought you would have learned to behave by now…”
He’s right. You would have learned to behave, if that was what he wanted of you. You tried that once, toward the beginning of your undead life. Obeyed and did not do anything without permission. You did what he says he expects from you. You learned quickly that he doesn’t always mean the things he says. He began to grow bored of you. His business trips were far longer during the time of your complete obedience. You’ve fine tuned your behavior to be just the way he wants. Even if that entails enduring punishments. It’s worth it for his attention.
“Get back on the bed, pet. I decide what pace we move at, not you”
You hesitate, testing the waters of how he wants you to be. What kind of mood is he in tonight? Does he want you to be playful and a tease? Does he want you obedient?
His gaze remains on you, as you stay halted in your tracks.
“Now.” his eyes glow slightly with the increase of power over you. He entered your mind and you feel a sense of warmth over your thoughts, compelling you back to your previous position.
Obedient it is.