Monsterboy Quest Ch. 04

Monsterboy Quest – The Devil's Playground by taiyakisoba

The maze of defiles and ravines seemed to have no end. Levinja slumped back against the side of the rocky wall and stayed there, unmoving, for a long time.

She tried to convince herself that she was merely tired, that she was taking a rest – but she recognised all too well that dark coldness spreading throughout her chest. Despair. It had haunted her for so long, haunted her even when she had fled into the arms of the Church. But she had tasted little of it since she had started this quest. The everyday exertions of her body, the combat she had undergone had renewed her, reminded her of who she was.

She smiled without humour. Combat? Truly? Well, yes, there had been combat – the wilderness was no safe place. But more than the combat, her wrestlings with the beautiful monster boys she had encountered were truly what had purged her of her despair. And now that despair had returned. This maze of tunnels had little to do with it.

The werewolf boys. Rom and Rem. Her thoughts often went to them, no matter how hard she tried to forget them. She knew she had done the right thing, leaving them behind. They had found mates and would be happy. She knew the happiness of having a partner, of sharing children with one you loved.

Yes, she had done the right thing – but the pain remained with her. Lonely days in the wilderness, and worse – the lonely nights, sleeping alone, where once she had had smooth, slender boyish bodies pressed against her on both sides.

Her body tingled. Gods, even now she could not free herself of this lust! This lust which controlled her, had led her heart to be broken again.

No, she must go on. Levinja Verana would not give up. She could not give up. The Tower of Maona was not so very far away now.

She pushed her back against the rock and set herself back on her feet. Yes. Keep going. It was only when she stopped moving that the despair caught up with her.

She broke into a jog. Yes. Good, her body responded by translating her lewd energy into movement. She felt joy in the gentle burn of her muscles, the filling and emptying of her lungs as she regulated her breathing. That dark emotion ebbed away.

Levinja raised her eyes to the sky. Dark, filled with smoke, and yet it was beautiful, tinted pink by the fiery summit of the volcano which had been her constant companion for the last week, a great black pyramid on the horizon, appearing and disappearing behind the canopy of the woods where she had abandoned the twin wolf-boys. The woods had thinned, replaced by badlands, and now she was skirting the foothills of the volcano itself, the summit hidden by the steep defiles and walls of pitted volcanic rock which she had to traverse. The going was difficult, even here where the path was sure, but the challenge was welcome. Yes, this place was stark and beautiful, yet she could have done without the ever-present spoiled-egg smell of brimstone.

She came to an arch which passed over a deep cut in the rock. The acrid smell was replaced suddenly by a deep earthiness wafting up from below on the hot air. Levinja glanced down. Ah. A sluggish grey river wallowed there, bubbling. Clay, boiling hot. She glanced at the arch. A happy coincidence? Of course not. It was artificial, carved from the rock. She had noticed many signs of habitation in this place. Imps, no doubt. Her mind flashed back to the map the Reverend Mother had shown her. Yes, imps – those heat-loving demihumans who made their homes wherever the earth's fiery heart broke close to the surface. They were dangerous, known for their sadistic tendencies. It was one of the reasons they were so often confused with demons in the minds of the ignorant. But whereas demons where true supernatural beings of darkness, imps were as much flesh-and-blood as humans. They feared the cold and stayed close to the heat and could see in the dark and favoured stone to earth.

She crossed the arch and was straight away faced with the dark mouth of a cavern. Yes, most definitely the entrance to tunnels used by imps as a lair.

Levinja's fingers teased the hilt of her sword. Her heart sang with the promise of combat, but she felt the tingle of fear as well. Imps were no problem alone, but in groups they were dangerous. And their tunnels were filled with traps. She would have to be careful.

She strode into the cavern. Immediately the small stone around her neck flickered forth its magic. Yes, a present from the Reverend Mother – a stone containing distilled starlight, harvested over many years. She knew it would make her visible to the imps, but she could not see in the dark, and the glittering blue light that spilled forth cheered her heart.

Levinja had traversed such underground complexes before, and she knew the ways of monsters. She avoided any tunnel which gave a sense of having been travelled extensively or recently and she kept to the outer ones, skirting those which most likely led to the lairs of imps.

The tunnels burrowed deep into the earth. Darkness and stone filled the hours of her journey. Occasionally she thought she heard the clicking sound of hooves on stone, but far away, and sometimes the half-imagined sibilant whisper of voices. But not often.

Levinja knew she must have passed the greater part of the imp's lair by now – it had been a long time since she had encountered their hoof-prints in the dust, the absent-minded scratching of talons on the walls.

The atmosphere lightened as the tunnel led upwards. Yes, she was approaching the surface! Levinja's heart lifted at the promise of daylight again and she hurried onward.

Suddenly, her left foot was yanked from under her and she fell forward, just barely bringing up her hands in time to stop from planting her face onto the dusty floor of the tunnel. She gasped and pushed herself up, her heart racing. Stupid! She'd tripped on something – some tree-root, she guessed, by the smooth living surface she still felt curled around her heel.

She turned her ankle, seeking to free herself of the unseen root – but as she tried to slip her foot from under it, the root shifted to prevent her.

Levinja bit back a cry of panic as she felt the smooth bark slip around her ankle and up her calf like a snake. She rolled, her hand flying to the hilt of her sword – but it never reached it. Another tentacle surged out of the dark and wrapped around her wrist. Lifted up bodily into the air, she kicked savagely with her free foot until it too was snared. She tore at the wooden tentacle within reach of her left hand and ripped a strip of bark free. But further tentacles whipped out from the wall and clasped her hand, wrapping it tightly.

She couldn't move now, beyond twisting her torso or bucking her hips. But even this became impossible when the tentacles straightened and lifted her higher still. She turned her head about and saw that the tentacles were indeed tree roots, but ones which twisted and curled in the air by their own volition – enchanted plants, and clearly a trap left by imps for the unwary.

More roots came out and deftly relieved her of her sword, cuirass and pack, their tapered ends cutting dexterously through the leather thongs. The cuirass fell with a clang to the floor of the tunnel and was quickly joined by her greaves. The tips of the roots toyed for several moments with the sleeves of her jerkin and the hem of her tunic, but then fell away. So it seemed they were to render their captive harmless rather than totally naked.

Levinja swung her head around and bit the length of root wrapped around the wrist of her right hand and ground it with her teeth. She tasted the bitterness of sap as she tore the bark free. Then another tentacle, with something like exasperation, slid around her neck and squeezed.

Ah. A warning not to fight back. Well, she had done all that she could. She would have to wait for the imps to come. No doubt if they had designed this trap to kill intruders, it would already have done so. It was intended to capture enemies alive, then. The imps would come to have their fun, and Levinja would use the chance to escape – or at least, to fall fighting.

Her eyes scanned the half-light, her ears straining to hear the soft tap of cloven hooves. But for a long while she heard nothing, hanging there, alone in the dark, with only the occasional squeak of a root tensing or relaxing. Time began to lose meaning to her.

The imp was already right in front of her when she noticed him. Exhaustion must have dulled her senses, or else she had fallen asleep for a brief moment. He stepped out into the corridor from some side passage she had not noticed. He turned his head towards her and stopped dead. Shock registered in his amber eyes, growing even larger than they already were, and Levinja knew he had not come here to find her but had merely stumbled upon her. Perhaps this was an old trap, one which was seldom triggered, since she was so far away from the well-travelled tunnels of the imp lair.

The imp stared at her and made no move to approach. He was not tall – few imps were, and he was a full head beneath Levinja's height, even with the two horns curling back from his forehead. They were small and velvety and along with the wide-eyed and innocent look of his oval face, Levinja knew he could not be old – not a child, but just barely an adult. The wings, unfurled in his surprise, certainly seemed small and undeveloped, too.

His glossy dark-blue skin was mostly bare, except for a loin-cloth of scarlet material, and at his side hung a short curved blade, alive with glowing sigils. All imps carried such blades, even the very young, as this one was.

Levinja's mind, suddenly alight after an age of hanging there in the twilight alone, flashed in every direction at once. He was alone and she would easily be able to best him in combat, if only she were free. She had a chance. He must not be allowed to call any other imps and she must somehow convince him to come closer. The blade at his side...

She did not let her eyes linger on it but instead met his gaze. The imp-boy started, his pointed tail stiffening in surprise and Levinja couldn't help but smile. Good. There was no need, then, to fake a smile to ingratiate herself and lull him into a sense of security.

"Hello," she said. A stupid thing to say, perhaps, but better than this silly silence between them.

The imp closed his lips, his mouth straightening into what he no doubt thought was a stern expression, but one which was undermined by the slight trembling of his hand as it fell on the hilt of his blade. "Stop there!" he cried. His voice was high, the nervous contralto of a youth.

"I'm not going anywhere," said Levinja with a low chuckle. "I'm pretty much stuck."

The imp blinked, startled again by her laughter. But this time he took a step forward.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Levinja Verana," said Levinja. "I am a traveller, searching for the Tower of Maona."

The boy frowned. "The Tower? It is far from here."

"Well," said Levinja. "As you can see I've got myself into a bit of trouble." She pulled at a root with her right arm, making it squeak in protest.

"You are an intruder," said the imp. "The servitor was placed here to catch intruders."

"I did not intend to intrude," said Levinja. "'I'm afraid I wandered into your tunnels by mistake. If you could just tell these roots to let me go–"

The imp's face registered shock at such a thought and he shook his head. "No. I am – it is forbidden to release captives without the permission of a matriarch." His words triggered some other thought and he glanced past Levinja, down the corridor that led deeper into the earth.

Levinja smiled to herself. Ah. Of course, imps were a matriarchal species, like many subterranean monsters. As a young male he was no doubt far down the social order, which explained his nervousness around her. Even though she was a human, she was not so terribly different from those tall and authoritative females who bossed him around.

"Oh," said Levinja. "But surely you're a guard, aren't you? Protecting your lair from intruders." She let her eyes fall over his body and she smiled again. He was well-built, but not particularly muscular, his form nicely toned although his hairless chest and hips gave hints of the left-over puppy-fat of childhood. "There's no need to rush off right away to get permission. I'm no threat to you."

The imp blinked and furrowed his brow, mulling over her words. Yes, that was right. She did not look like a threat, did she? Especially stripped of her armour and weapon.

The imp's eyes followed hers to the floor, where her sword lay. He frowned and with a flickering of a long-nailed finger through the air, a root unravelled itself from the wall and slid around her sword and drew it away.

Ah, so he could command the roots with his magic! Perhaps there was another way she could free herself.

She turned her eyes on him. "Please," she said. "All I want is to be on my way. I promise you that I did not come here to cause you or your people any harm."

"Your sword," he said. "And your armour. You are a warrior."

"Yes," said Levinja. "I am a Knight of the Order of the Evening Star. But as I said, I only came here under duress – there is no other way through these mountains. The wilderness is dangerous, as you well know."

The boy nodded. "Yes. Very dangerous."

"But I am not dangerous," said Levinja, and she turned her most brilliant smile on him and batted – yes, actually batted! – her eyelashes.

The boy's mouth fell open and a blush flashed on his dark cheeks.

Ah! So she had not been wrong. He was a virgin, no doubt. One of his age and standing among his people would have little chance to have been chosen as a mate. Levinja pursed her lips. Those foolish matriarchs! But then, they were not alone among females who had yet to learn of the delights that untouched and innocent males could give a hot-blooded woman.

He shook his head and said nothing.

"But you're very wise not to trust me right away," said Levinja. "I can see they were not wrong to give you the task of guarding this part of the tunnels."

The boy's mouth opened slightly and Levinja knew her guess was correct. This part of the tunnel system, so far away from the home lairs of the imps, was the perfect place to train a young one such as this. An actual encounter with an intruder would be unlikely here, but the skills he learned would be useful.

"But I am telling the truth that I am no threat to you," she continued. "Please. You can search me. I have no other weapon but that sword to defend myself with."

The boy blinked at her and frowned again. His frown, Levinja decided, was pretty – it made his otherwise naïve face more mature for a moment, creating a delicious counterpoint with his boyish body.

"Yes," said the imp. "Yes, I must search you."

His eyes had fallen on Levinja's chest. Boys! They were all obsessed with breasts. Well, it was no shame to them. Nature had made them so, the same nature which set Levinja's heart racing with heat when she dwelt on the well-defined chest and stomach of the imp-boy before her – his nipples, even darker against his dark skin, and the well-rounded sensuality of his hips and his thighs.

He came forward, hesitant at first, and Levinja watched him. She was careful not to betray any eagerness in her eyes. She knew of imps, of their tendency to sadism, their delight in bullying the weak. No, a strong woman would scare this imp-boy away and then she would be truly in a bind. And so she widened her eyes and parted her lips in a mime of nervousness, using her growing excitement to give it further authenticity.

The boy's gorgeous eyes flickered and the tiny curl of a lip told her that her gambit was a true one. Yes, he was inexperienced and still fearful of her, but his imp-heart took delight in another's fear.

He was beside her now and raised his hands to her chest.

Levinja looked up at him, her eyes glistening with an excitement she knew he would take for fear.

"Please," said Levinja. "Be gentle with me."

His hands slipped onto her breasts. Hanging free, he felt their weight in his hands through the material of her tunic. He swallowed, his face intent in how they felt. No doubt these were the first he had touched since he had nuzzled at his mother's breast as a babe.

Levinja gasped. His hands, despite the tiny cruel talons, were gentle, disarmingly so.

"I... I must search the inside of your clothes," he muttered, almost apologetic.

"I am hiding nothing," said Levinja. And then she gasped again as the boy's hands slid down her top, the material of her tunic no longer separating his skin from hers. His hands, trembling, slipped over her boobs, and he squeezed them gently.

Levinja bit back a moan. Her nipples, hard before the boy had even touched her, were like rock now, pressing against the softness of his palms. Yes, they were the hands of a boy still tender and untouched, untested in combat or in love.

Levinja squirmed. "There's no weapon hidden there!" she squealed.

The boy tore his hands away. Had her words shamed him? But if they had, it did not stop him from bringing his hands now along her back, half-patting, half-stroking, continuing his mock search for a weapon he knew was not there.

He reached the small of her back and rested his hand there. Levinja could not see him now, but she knew he must be hesitating, unsure of how she would react to more intimate exploration.

Levinja closed her eyes and felt her heart's rapid pulse. If she'd read the boy correctly, there was a thin layer of sadism hiding under the gentleness of his touch and his hesitation. She had seen it in the curl of his lip and the sparkle of his eyes, felt it in the firm squeezing of her breasts. Yes, although an innocent boy, he was still one of his kind.

And so she twisted her hips and gave a little yelp when he cupped one of her buttocks with a hand. She knew he would enjoy a captive who was at least a little resistant and unwilling. Besides, if she were too eager she would no doubt remind him of those fierce matriarchs who made his life a misery.

She knew she had read him right when she felt the hem of her tunic being flicked up almost dismissively, baring her underwear-covered bottom.

"Wh– what are you doing?" she squealed.

"I must search everywhere," he said. There was still a hint of apology in his voice – habits of a young lifetime did not change so soon, of course – but there was also the breathless heat of excitement.

A hand slid down over one generously rounded cheek and then moved to the other. Levinja squirmed, pressing her thighs together. No doubt the little imp would take it as a futile attempt to escape his touch, but in truth she was already soaking wet and her sex was tingling with a familiar hungry heat. She wanted the boy's fingers to touch her more intimately, to give relief from the tension rising inside her, tightening her chest and setting a gentle flame alight within her marrow. The squeezing sent a jolt of pleasure through her and she cried out.

The imp took it as a cry of distress and, emboldened, he grabbed hold of both the cheeks of her bottom and squeezed them. Oh, what was it with boys and squeezing! Levinja twisted her hips and gasped, warming to the part of a resisting captive maiden.

Maiden! She laughed inwardly at the thought. But oh, this playful coyness reminded her of the first time she had been touched by a male. He had been as eager as this little imp boy, and just as inexperienced, and she, although knowing what she wanted, had had to tempt the lad into doing his job as a man.

The imp's hands slid from her buttocks and for a moment Levinja was concerned she had taken her act too far. But she was soon reappraised of the fact when one buttock received a resounding slap.