Handbook of Erotic Fantasy: Peepin’ and Creepin’ (Patreon)

Dear Playdrow, 

I never thought it would happen to me. I’m just a regular J’oe, but my job is something special. I’m a guard captain for House Harrdon, and if you know anything about the family, you know that we’ve got some smoking hot priestesses. I’m not sure what they did to win the favor of the Demon Queen, but trust me here: the least of them could channel seven times per day, minimum. Even the acolytes are ten out of ten, so you can imagine my excitement when I got picked for unarmed combat training with this year’s novices. 

Now I’m no dummy. Even a junior priestess will have you flayed alive if she catches you ogling. So despite all the form-fitting yochlol pants, straining spidersilk sports bras, and deeply impressive warm-up stretches, I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead. I stood at attention like a good male. Unfortunately, averted eye or no, I wasn’t the only thing standing at attention when it came time for wrestling instruction. And I don’t think I have to tell you how hard it is to hide your ‘onyx obelisk’ when it’s down to grapple checks.

So there I am, stammering out apologies, sure that I’m about to be scourge of fangs’d to death, when who shows up but Matron Mother Harddon! 

She makes some speech about impertinent males, telling all the novices how we’re just tools to be used. Meat to be devoured. Meanwhile she’s licking those ridiculously plump lips of hers, running fingernails down my neck, whispering threats in my ear. She calls me scum and swine, and being a normal, healthy drow male, I am of course about to bust through my jerkin at this point. All those priestesses staring at me like I’m a worthless thing to be used and then discarded…. 

“But of course,” she says, still talking to the novices. “Like any tool, the males under your command must be spent wisely.” She puts one slim-fingered hands down my cuisses at this point, and she gives a little tug. I gave a little moan. “You have to get maximum return out of them. As he is, this sorry specimen can serve but one of us. However, with a little judicious application of spiderform….”

I won’t pretend to understand what crazy metamagic she used. I’m just a guard captain, so I don’t really get how self-only spells work. What I do know is that 1) my leg armor exploded; 2) my butt was suddenly huge, and 3) I had a lot more legs than I’d started with. They swarmed me then, wrestling practice forgotten, a very different kind of ‘combat maneuver training’ taking its place. I always knew that the Demon Queen’s priestesses had a fetish for spiders, but the things they did to my thick, flexible, and surprisingly sensitive legs… If you’ve never been used as a sex toy for eight demanding drow priesteses, each seemingly bent on pulling one of your legs off while ignoring your pitiful crew of agonized protest, then I suggest you give it a try. I got to live every drow male’s dream, and the next round of unarmed combat training is the same time next week. 

— J’oe from Down Under