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Succubus In Rapture	By : RosaTenebrum Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 5828 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Dragonlance series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Succubus In Rapture
- 1
Inspired by the intriguing part in Time of the Twins, where Takhisis is messing with Raistlin's head, tantalizing him with "the glory of the flesh", and Raistlin sees Crysania's face. Here's my take on the event.
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Succubus In Rapture
Wakey, wakey, my little wizard.
As soon as he heard the silent, alluring voice, he realized he had dozed off in his chair while studying.
Suddenly aware of his surroundings again, Raistlin blinked his eyes to drive away the sleep. He looked around, frowning, and felt a weird confusion. His spell book had fallen to the floor by his feet, and he wondered absent-mindedly how come a light sleeper like him had not woken up to the sound of the book hitting the stony floor. Even stranger was the fact that he had no recollection of sitting down with the book in the first place, and he could have sworn the last thing he had done was blowing the candles out and leaving only the lantern lit before going to bed. Yes, he remembered it all quite vividly, and therefore couldn't explain to himself why all of the candles were suddenly burning and he was not in his bed but sitting in his chair.
It gave him a feeling of unquiet. He wasn't used to being out of control, and it angered him. Raistlin sighed irritably, pressing his fingers on his temples. All the tension of the past few days was probably taking a toll on his nerves. Had he been so utterly tired that he had thought of going to bed in his dreams, not even realizing that sleep had already found him? Or had he been sleepwalking? No, it was not possible. He never did that. And what about the voice, then? Hadn't someone been calling out to him just a moment ago? Yes, a woman's voice. It must have been a dream too, he decided, nothing more. Annoyed at the confusion of his senses, he stood up, determined to hit the bed for real this time.
But when he was about to stand up, Raistlin heard the voice again. It was a woman laughing. The laughter was dark, low-pitched and seductive, like black pearls.
Confused, mage? How delightful!
Raistlin's lightning-fast instincts perked up immediately. The burning words of magic rose to his lips, but he managed to draw them back before the first notes of his prepared chant could hit the air. He knew his magic, however powerful, would do no good here, for it was the voice of his Dark Goddess, the one he sought to vanquish, addressing him in the depths of his mind. His feeling of uneasiness grew, and for a few moments the world seemed to him as if he was watching it through some kind of a watery wall. He noticed his own movements were extremely slow and weary, as if he was walking under water. He wondered if the Queen, catching him off guard, had cast a spell on him, and he reprimanded himself for letting it happen. He decided to play along the Queen's game for the time being, making her believe he did not suspect anything foul. That way he could win time and eventually walk away as the winner from whatever it was that the Queen was scheming this time.
He kept his voice deliberately cool as he saluted her through clenched teeth and with a forced smile. "I am honored, Takhisis, my Queen."
Is that so? Dreaming of me?
"No, my Queen, I'm afraid not."
No? Now, now, you're hurting my feelings.
Again the laughter like black pearls, now teasing and frivolous, echoed in Raistlin's mind.
"My Queen, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
I am the one who asks questions, you are the one who answers them.
Servant.
Raistlin could sense the Queen's twisted, malicious smile behind the last spat-out word. He leaned back in his chair and waited patiently, swallowing his ire with force. My time will come soon, he reminded himself. She will call me a servant no more.
Look up, little magician.
The voice had changed. It was tempting and ripe like the full moon, filled with forbidden promises. Raistlin lifted his eyes in reluctant wonder and saw a shadow of a feminine figure standing in the arched doorway. Feeling a threatening rush of blood, he started to search his mind for the arcane words that would dispel whatever illusion Takhisis had in store for him, but for some reason he did not seem to remember the pronunciation of the simplest of spells. On top of that, and this horrified him even more, he noticed that he did not even want to remember. The lazy and intoxicated feeling inside him was increasing alarmingly, and so he gave up preparing his magic, apparently very willing to succumb to Takhisis' will.
The woman standing in the doorway took a couple of steps, and when she entered the soft candle light, Raistlin saw that she was not just any woman, but indeed the Queen herself. But she had not chosen to appear to him as the terrible five-headed dragon, The Dragon of All Colors and of None, and, seeing her chosen form, Raistlin almost wished she would have, for he knew this form could prove to be far more dangerous to him. It would be more than easy for this avatar to succeed in making him vulnerable and susceptible, and it frightened him more than any dragon could.
The Queen, Dark Temptress, smiled in the shadows, and the seductive beauty of her smile was only distorted a little by her slightly fang-like canine teeth. She was utterly naked, and the shape of her body sent a stark wave of desire through Raistlin's veins, consuming and bright as fire. The Queen's lush breasts were perfectly round, her nipples hard and taut. She walked on, approaching Raistlin very slowly, and the swinging movement of her hips was like ocean waves. Her long, black hair brushed against her shoulders, and in the dim candlelight her otherwise hairless body gleamed like the finest porcelaine. The cruel expression on her face revealed she was perfectly aware of the overwhelming eroticism of her form, which she had likely put together by visiting the minds of thousands of sleeping men, and, by combining their hopes and fantasies, she had become the epitome of desire, the most seductive of all women. Watching her, Raistlin fought to tether his wandering mind, but failed miserably. He was hard and erect in no time, and he cursed the fact that he had no means of hiding his excitement, because his clothes, as he vaguely realized, had mysteriously fallen to the floor. Hadn't he been fully dressed not so long ago?
I see my appearance pleases you, mage.
"I cannot deny it, my Queen", he managed to answer, his voice as tense as his body.
Then look. You can look but you cannot touch.
She stopped, her jewel-like eyes glowing lustruously dark. Her lips did not move; she was still speaking to him through his mind.
Am I not merciful?
Then, as if wanting to torture his subject to the largest extent possible, she stepped close to Raistlin, parting her legs in a way that the chair he was sitting on got caught between her knees. The scent of her body was enchanting, a mixture of exotic myrrh and lilies. Raistlin felt a sudden urge to encircle her body with his arms, to kiss her flat, white stomach, but, to his relief, he managed to prevent himself from doing it, at least for the time being. The Queen, seeing and enjoying his inner struggle, laughed.
Touch me not. How does it feel, Majere? Is this what you want until the end of your days? Look but don't touch? Never touch?
He closed his eyes with a strangled sigh, fighting the need, fighting his miserable, failing body.
Look, I said.
Raistlin opened his eyes slightly, suddenly appalled by the hissing, reptile-like undertone in the Queen's voice, but the impression faded as soon as he was gazing upon her glorious beauty again. Victorious smile twisted the corner of Takhisis' full lips.
What are you going to do? Tie your hands?
He smirked, in spite of his awkward position.
"My Queen, you did not forbid me to touch myself."
She laughed, mockingly. Her white teeth glistened in the golden dark.
Oh, you would, wouldn't you. That is all you will ever do. A bit of sleight of hand. Poor little boy.
Raistlin couldn't keep the irritation from creeping into his voice. "What do you want from me, Your Highness? Is this your last straw? Are you this much afraid of me?"
He could feel the Queen's angry intake of breath. Her beautiful face twisted in anger.
Afraid? You fool.
After a moment, she continued, in a much gentler tone.
I'm going to give you pleasure like you never knew, dear. Something so much better than your petty spells.
She shoved her fingers in his hair, curling the auburn strands tenderly around his ear.
Books are cold. So cold. Give into this, and you shall never feel cold again.
The Queen's voice, caressing and longing, was slowly breaking down his resistance, word by word. She stroked his cheek with the back of her hand and ran a finger along his jawline. Raistlin sighed at her touch, unable to turn away his eyes. She held his gaze fast as she kneeled down in front of him. Before Raistlin had time to react, the Dark Queen closed her fingers around his erection.
"Oh..." A low, involuntary moan emerged from Raistlin's lips. "No..."
Oh, yes.
Staring at him intensely, Takhisis started to stroke him in long, tantalizing pulls, her bloodred lips curved in a teasing smile. Raistlin closed his eyes, horrified, struggling to regain control of his thoughts, all the while falling further and further away from rational thinking. His mind tried to tell him that it was not worth it, that he had an important goal to think about, but for the moment he could think of nothing more important than the sweet, pulsating feeling against the Queen's soft hand.
Not protesting very hard, are you?
The Queen didn't wait for him to answer. She leaned forward, and when she took him completely in her mouth, Raistlin could feel the final bits of his rational mind slipping fast from his reach. He tried to keep his breathing under control, but it soon turned into helpless moaning. The Queen's swift tongue was working up and down over the most sensitive spots of his body, her breath hot and demanding. He had never been touched this way before, and when she changed from gentle licking to hard sucking, it almost sent him over the edge. He arched in his chair, cried out a trembling gasp and, although hardly caring anymore, cursed himself faintly for it. He had definitely not meant to cry out like that, amusing the Goddess even more. Her laughter filled his mind again.
Stop me. Make me stop.
Use your magic.
"You... You bitch..."
Careful, now, pretty.
She punished him immediately by increasing the intensity of her sucking. Raistlin tried to speak, but the words got stuck in his dry throat. He lifted his hand warily, intending to push the Queen away with force, but when his fingers met her dark hair, he noticed he could only let his hand linger on her neck, encouraging her movements instead of stopping them.
Why don't you stop me? Why?
He groaned something illegible in answer.
I know why you don't. I know.
The Queen stopped what she was doing. Raistlin fell back against the back of his wooden chair and opened his eyes, frustrated and thankful at the same time. Gently, as if suddenly overcome by an irresistible drowsiness, Takhisis laid her head on his knee and stayed there for some moments, silent and motionless. The dark hair hung over her face, covering her features. Raistlin could feel her warm breath moving back and forth over his skin. He stared at her in perplexion, not exactly knowing whether he wanted her to continue or disappear for good, back to the nightmarish Abyss from where she had come to poison his mind. He reached out a shaking hand to part the black hair. She looked up.
Crysania.
Raistlin drew in a shocked breath, but right away his suprise gave way to the most pleasant sensation as a wave of gratitude and confusion shot through him. Crysania. He didn't know what blessing had brought the woman here nor how or why it had happened, but there she was, and nothing else mattered. The blood thudded and rang in his veins; he feasted his eyes on the beauty of her face and the radiance of her glossy hair. Crysania watched him and laughed lightly at his astonishment, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to be there with him. But, as sweet as her laughter was, there was something in it that disturbed Raistlin, something cunning and unnatural. It was dark and somehow heinous; it seemed not to belong to the self-possessed and quiet cleric of Paladine he had come to know in the past weeks. Studying her, he noticed that her eyes shone with strange, rich darkness, and rosy color had blossomed under her usual pallor. Seeing his gaze, she glanced at him sideways and said in a low, whispering voice, "You want to fuck me. I' ve known since the beginning."
Raistlin felt embarrassed at first, but, believing he had heard approval instead of accusation in Crysania's dulcet voice, his embarassament was soon replaced by a hazy relief. She knew. She had known since the beginning. "Yes", he groaned in a hoarse voice, more eagerly than he had intended, "Yes."
He touched Crysania's silky hair. The movement was dreamy and drunken, and again that sensation of walking under water took hold of him. It was too slow. His hand was too slow. Shaking his head, Raistlin dispelled the sensation. After all, there were other, more pressing matters to take care of. He smiled assuredly, caressing Crysania's soft cheek in content amazement. When had she come into his room, he wondered distantly, and, more importantly, how had they ended up in a situation like this?
Don't you remember, now? You were studying when she entered. Fragrant and beautiful. You asked her in. Because you wanted her. Your whole body ached for her, you lewd little wizard. You poured her some wine. You sat and you talked, your every movement betraying your desire. And you couldn't control yourself any longer. You finally did what you fought tooth and nail against since the moment you first saw her in the house of Astinus of Palanthas. You yanked her close and touched her, didn't you, you pressed your hard member against her curving hip; your lips met hers, and you groped her breasts, furious and lustful and needing. And she yielded to your fire, oh yes, she did, she caressed you through your robe, moaning and begging for more, demanding you to make her your own. And you started to rip off her whitey-white gown, ready to take her right then and there on the hard floor. Because you couldn't control yourself any longer. You can't control yourself. Remember, now?
Ah, that's right, that was precisely how it had happened. How very fortunate. Raistlin congratulated himself for finally finding the courage to act on his desire. The torturing days of denying his true feelings were finally over, and it felt divinely good to give up useless resisting. She would be his. Tonight. Now.
"May I?" he uttered shortly in a whisper, in answer to the cleric's words.
Crysania smiled, slowly gliding her cool hand over his hips. "As much as you want. I'm yours, Raistlin." Her voice became dreamy. "I've always been yours."
Casting a cunning glance at Raistlin, Crysania raised her hand to the bodice of her gown, pulling it downwards until her bosom was exposed. She took hold of Raistlin's hand and placed it on her firm breast, smiling approvingly at his reaction. She started to caress herself with his hand. She bent her head backwards, and her rosy pale lips parted in growing ecstasy. "Yours... Nobody else's..."
Raistlin watched her, savouring the scene, feeling a mixture of deep arousal and gnawing doubt. This was not the Crysania he knew; at least he would never have believed that the distant and dignified daughter of Paladine would be so... so daring and obscene. The foggy confusion inside his head reminded him of its presence again, and while he could absently sense the absurdity of the situation knocking relentlessly in the back of his mind, he pushed the feeling aside determinedly, too much aroused and mesmerized by Crysania's sensual, strangely uncharacteristic behaviour, which fueled the flame in his desire.
No. Suddenly panic, bracing as icy water, took control of his mind. What are you doing? This must not happen! You have a goal, an important goal - what is it? He rummaged in his mind desperately, but there was nothing there but the sensation of Crysania's soft breast filling up his hand. A spell of dizziness swept over him. Cold sweat broke on his brow as he fought to grasp hold of the reality. For a short moment, his mind hovered on the brink of remembering, but when he was about to find the answer, he noticed his chair had disappeared from under him. He was lying on the bed, instead, with Crysania in his arms. They were both unclothed. He was holding her tight against him, breathing in the scent of her black curls. His need was almost painful. He could feel her round, delicate breasts pressing against his arm, and he knew he had never wanted a woman this much before. Crysania entangled her fingers with his and lifted his hand to her lips, kissing his palm in a shy manner. She looked up and smiled - and this time her smile was not obscene and strange but pure and innocent, just like she was. She was resting her cheek in his palm. "Please, Raistlin", she whispered, her eyes shining with love and desire.
All reason left him. Raistlin lowered Crysania on the bed, placing hungry kisses along her ivory jawline while she threaded her fingers through his hair, moaning his name softly. He rubbed her breasts, moving his thumb over the hard nipples, aroused almost beyond bearing. "Want you... so bad... right now..." he panted, frantically, as he nudged her legs apart with his knee.
There had been too many days of denial, ever since the moment he had first met her in the house of Astinus where she had stood so beautiful and brave and proud, trying to hide the horror in her heart under an educated and decorous tone of voice, which had rather amused than impressed Raistlin. Back then her beauty could not last; his cursed vision had soon destroyed her features, one by one, but the first, untouched image of her lovely face had stayed with him ever since. And when he finally saw her again in Istar, the terrible curse of time momentarily lifted from him... Gods, the instant surge of desire had been so powerful and unexpected that for a moment Raistlin had nearly lost himself in its grip. After their meeting in the Kingpriest's Hall of Audience, he had returned to his chambers upset and confused, without being able to stop his mind from wandering on dangerous paths. She was so kind, so affectionate. Almost too precious to be broken, too luminous to be drawn into darkness. To his amazement, his heart seemed to open to her to some degree, but no matter how he tried he couldn't keep at bay the cold and calculating part of his mind, and so he had planned on seducing her, using her in every possible way. He had had to push away his dirty fantasies, however; she was a virgin, pure in mind and body. He needed her purity tarnished, but intact. He had promised himself to keep things strictly under control, but it was easier said than done. He constantly found himself taking advantage of little moments to touch her, as if accidentally, and he knew he should have stopped before it would be too late. But he didn't. He couldn't. He didn't want to. He knew he was playing with fire - the moments he had spent with her had been filled with sweet torture. He had pretended, more or less succesfully, cool and composed in her presence, fulfilling his desire only in his mind.
And now everything had changed as if by magic. It was a miracle. It was all so smooth and easy, and Raistlin wondered what on earth had held him back for so long. Too long. And for no reason at all. He silently reproached himself for being so stubborn and acting so foolishly. Did I think she wouldn't want me? That she would turn me down? That must have been it. Now that she finally was in his arms, he found nothing but love and dreams come true in her innocent, shimmering eyes.
He made no effort to be gentle. He bent Crysania's legs and entered her with one massive thrust, breaking her virginity forever. In the candlelight he saw shiny tears well up in her gray eyes, but she smiled at him lovingly, in spite of the tears, and twined her arms around his neck, watching him deep in the eye. "Yes", she whispered. "Love me..."
Her tightness was more than he had ever imagined. "Oh, heavens... Crysania..."
Their lips met and locked in a passionate kiss. Blinded by his lust, Raistlin let his hands roam freely over the delicate curves of her body. Her skin felt smooth and cool against his own fiery heat. He started to move inside her, encouraged by the way Crysania cried his name at every deep thrust. Yes, he thought as the waves of his unleashed desire slowly built up in his loins, let me hear your lust. Be mine and mine only like a little, dumb puppet on a string. He took hold of her hips and added speed steadily until he thrust into her as hard and fast as he could; his gasps of pleasure got mixed with Crysania's sharp, helpless moans. She arched her back under him, matching his frantic movements with her own. She tightened her arms around Raistlin's neck as he brought his hands underneath her lower back, holding her closer and tightly against him.
The release was swift and sweet. Raistlin buried his face in Crysania's shoulder and cried out loud, trembling uncontrollably in her arms. Her black hair tangled in his fingers...
Black...
The laughter.
Black pearls.
Look at you. Naughty, naughty.
Raistlin woke up with a start, his breathing hard and fragmentary. It took him a few seconds to comprehend the sudden shift between the two realities and for a moment he found himself adrift, unable to remember where he was. It was dark in the room, except for the little lantern he had left lit before going to sleep.
It was the sight of the lantern that brought his memory back. Groaning, Raistlin laid his forehead on the corner of his pillow that he had just a moment ago imagined was Crysania's white shoulder. The sheets were soaked with his sweat and his blood felt like it was on fire, but he felt cold, nevertheless; he'd thrown his clothes on the floor in the throes of his dream. His blanket, wet from the stain of his ejaculation, was rolled up tight under him as if in impression of another human being. Crysania. Raistlin closed his eyes, desperately clinging to the fleeting image of the woman, struggling with warring emotions of regret and anger. How sweet it had been to be near her, so natural and deeply satisfying... Disgusted with himself for his folly, he forced his mind to shatter the image of the cleric and rolled over to lie on his back. He started to cough violently - he had been lying on his stomach for so long that his lungs now had to struggle for air.
The Dark Queen took pleasure in his pain. Her savage laughter, like a whip, travelled in the air again.
The spasms ceased slowly. Raistlin lay motionless, completely exhausted and still shocked by the way he had been so easily manipulated into a total indifference toward his grand plan. The first rays of the sun were creeping into the room, bringing with them the distant chirping of Istarian birds. The Queen was silent, but Raistlin could still feel her scrutinizing presence in his mind. Even more so, he could feel Crysania's presence with every nerve of his drained body. The dream of their love making had been so remarkably vivid, his lust for her so strong that he almost believed the cleric's sleep had been affected by it as well. The thought, combined with the knowledge of having to meet the woman in just a few hours, caused a wave of embarrassment to wash over him.
The Queen was reading his mind. She leaped forward like a jaguar, exultant and bloodthirsty.
Better hide those sheets before she comes to see you today. Otherwise she'll know what you've done.
Her ugly, mocking laughter danced in the air, and made Raistlin flinch in disgust.
Do you see now, my little mageling? Do you understand? Back off before I'll have to pity you even more. You are rather amusing, though, I can't deny that; ravishing her in your dreams when you could go and ravish her for real, every day for the rest of your puny lives. The prerogative of mortals, Majere. Stop pretending you are not one of them when everything I read in your dirty humane mind tells me different.
The Queen fell silent for a moment and then added in a mischievous tone, I've visited her mind, too, you know.
She chuckled.
Oh, the things I could tell! She burns for you so...
She then changed her voice into an exact replica of Crysania's, making the cleric repeat his name in between gasps and cries of pleasure.
Her furious moaning turned into laughter again.
Poor girl. Poor, poor girl. Right now she is lying all alone in her little chamber, waiting for you as we speak. She is touching herself, imagining your gorgeous hands all over her. Greatly daring of her, but it's nothing that a little prayer afterwards won't fix!
The image was nothing but alluring - Raistlin's body reacted to it with passion, even as the Queen's complacency made his heart contract in hatred. "You're lying," he uttered shortly.
Takhisis did not hear him, or, more likely, his words did not mean a thing to her.
Make her your own, mage.
All you have to do is ask.
The thought was horribly tempting. It would be so easy to give into his feelings, to end the ache inside his body, just like the dream had shown him. Could he do it? Every day for the rest of your lives. He closed his eyes. No, he was not capable of loving her. He cared nothing for her. Lust... that's all there was to it. But she wouldn't have to know, now would she? She was hopelessly in love. She could always tell herself, naive and gullible as she was, that a couple of sweaty thrusts paralleled love from his side. It would be easy, so very easy to make her dance to his tune in exchange for physical satisfaction he had never really dared to hope for himself.
Suddenly his mind recoiled in contempt. And then what, he asked himself despisingly, live happily ever after? Go back home with her, settle down as man and wife in Caramon and Tika's house, spend the rest of his life humoring little children by pulling coins out of their asses? Caramon, that pea-brained imbecile, would undoubtedly die of happiness, whereas he would wither away in that mediocre life. He tried hard, but he could not make himself fit the cozy scenery, which stretched desolate and exhausting before his eyes.
The Queen pushed on without mercy, stealing images and memories from Raistlin's mind.
Or do you want to wait? Is that it?
Yes, I think you want to wait for your brother to do it first.
Dark, drowning anger rose up in him so fast that for a moment his world became blurred in a blood-dimmed haze.
No. Not this.
Laughing in ecstacy at finding the sore - perhaps the sorest - spot in her victim's heart, The Queen twisted the knife in the wound.
He will go for it. He'll steal the cleric from you. Isn't that what he's always doing?
Don't think for one moment he won't.
And, just between you and me, she can always close her eyes. It's all the same if she closes her eyes, don't you think?
Raistlin's heart was pounding painfully in his chest. He had to blink furiously to drive away the black smoke of hatred clouding his vision.
Don't.
Don't ruin everything out of childish jealousy.
I will be...
God.
They will bow to me. They will all call me master.
At that instant he could sense Takhisis hesitate. The seductive tone of her voice began to crumble, leaving room for her true voice, the atrocious, inhuman hiss of a slimy serpent that commanded its armies in the hollow language of the dead.
With an effort, she collected the remnants of her strength and spat on him her last commands.
Go to her.
Her abhorrent voice made Raistlin's skin crawl, but he resisted, unyielding.
Be this your last lesson given.
I expect to hear from you no more.
The voice sounded pleading, almost submissive now, and then, in a heartbeat, it disappeared as if it were never there in the first place.
Raistlin smiled to himself.
He lied still for two more hours, recollecting his strength and basking in the glory of his victory. But as the sunlight gradually brightened up the room and drove away the nightly shadows, he remembered, with unwanted vividness, the way Crysania looked at him, how her smile seemed capable of lighting up a black hole, so why not his soul, too. He shuddered. Perhaps he wouldn't even need the Queen's help in losing himself and his goal. The cursed longings of his body would surely send him to his doom on their own.
For the first time, Raistlin felt insecure about himself in regards to his future that up until now had loomed so clear and brilliant in his mind. It frightened him - could he fail? Was it possible? He got up, reluctantly. After refreshing himself, he sat down at the table and opened the old tome he had been studying lately, forcing himself to concentrate on the arcane lore at hand. But his mind was racing. Very soon there would be a light, feminine knock on the door. He would open the door and see Crysania standing in the corridor, fragrant and beautiful. Irresistible.
He would ask her in. He would pour her some wine. They would sit and talk.
And then?

THE END
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Succubus In Rapture