Conan – Tyche Defends Derketo’s Temple

I’m going to assume most readers aren’t familiar with the Hyborian Era beyond the characters of Conan and Red Sonja.  With that in mind, here are a few details.  Tyche, the main character is Aquilonian.  That country is modeled loosely after ancient Greece.  She’s named after the Greek goddess of luck who I interpreted as being just a regional spirit at the time, as Conan stories are set 15,000BC roughly.

The factions mentioned are the Djeret, who are a rabidly fanatical offshoot of Set worshipers from Stygia (based on ancient Egypt) and the followers of Derketo.  The “real life” Derketo is a Syrian mermaid goddess.  In Conan lore, she’s a goddess of life, death and fertility.  She appeals primarily to female worshipers.  Because of this, the misogynist Djeret see Derketo’s worship as a particular threat.

The story was inspired by a building I created in the Conan: Exiles game and takes place in that desert environment.  The temple was built across a river and had raised floors that allowed the river to flow underneath it.  The floor was also open around the central altar, and at the back of the temple.  The back of the temple was built up against a waterfall and the falls were used to create sacred baths in the rear area.  That should be enough to follow the story.

Fair warning however, the language and violence here are a bit graphic, as befits such a savage time.  Adults only, and only ones mature enough to understand the setting and events in their context instead of seeing it as approval of such things.

Blonde Warrior Woman in Golden Spartan Style Armor Holding Spear and Shield


“The guards have been sent to aid the other exiles against the Djeret as you commanded, mistress.”, the Cimmerian woman said calmly, her long chestnut hear spilling down around her shoulders and barely covering her ample bare breasts.  Her dark blue eyes and expression both displayed serious concern.

“You did well, Ciona”, Tyche replied with a slight smile, brushing the woman’s cheek with the back of her fingertips.  “Now take the artisans and head to shelter as I previously instructed”

“But, mistress…”, Ciona started to interject.

Tyche cut her off with a stern look that softened as the Cimmerian woman demurred.  “I will not lose this temple to Djeret scum when it’s only half finished” she said firmly, a hint of anger in her voice.  Tyche’s expression softened and she smiled softly at Ciona.  “If the information is accurate, and they show up, they’ll find preparations more than adequate for them”.  “Now be a good pet, and do as instructed”.  “I will be fine here”

Ciona let out a concerned sigh.  “Yes, mistress”, she answered in a dutiful tone.

Ciona had been one of the first captured by Tyche and taken as a thrall.  After Tyche had broken her, Ciona worked her way from servant to submissive play thing and personal assistant to Tyche.  Tyche had other play things that had come and gone, but Ciona liked to believe that her mistress held some genuine affection for her.  There were the occasional looks Tyche would give her, and Ciona certainly was able to voice her opinion more freely than anyone else at the temple.  She could never be quite certain though.  Her mistress was an enigma in many ways.

A Little Over an Hour Later…

“It is as was reported, lord Agymeph”, the exhausted scout reported, trying to catch his breath.  “The garrison here was small to start with, and was sent East to join the other infidel whores and their bootlickers”.

“Who remains?” the Djeret leader demanded impatiently.

“The whore would be priestess remains, praying at the altar of her weak goddess.”, the scout reported.  His voice practically oozing contempt.  “The entire temple is darkened”.  “We presume the craftsmen are either in hiding in the secured upper levels, or have fled”.

The Djeret leader, snarled and struck the scout across the face with a backhanded closed fist.  “FOOL!”  “You continued service and life are not based on bringing me assumptions, only facts!”

The leader was a large, powerfully built man, with a dark olive Stygian complexion and black soulless eyes.  If his size wasn’t intimidating enough, his reputation as a priest of Set and use of black magicks kept his followers in fear and awe.  The force of his blow spun the smaller man around and knocked him to all fours.  Blood trickled heavily from the scout’s mouth.

“O… of course, my lord”, the scout stammered.  “Your humble servant begs your forgiveness”.

Agyymeph spit in disgust on the battered scout.  “Your weakness and incompetence offend me”.

He looked up from the scout towards the seemingly almost abandoned temple.  “No matter”.  “Mere weavers and artists will not stop the faithful of Set”.  “We will slay or enslave all of them”.  Agymeph looked back down at the scout.  “Get up, dog”, he commanded harshly.  “You will lead the first group through the doors”.  “If there is an ambush, you will be the first to pay the price for your incompetence”.

The battered and humiliated scout struggled to his feet and bowed his head low.  Agymeph glared as his eyes followed the scout back into his formation, then he returned his gaze to the temple before continuing to speak.

“No matter…”, he half muttered.  “25 warriors and priests will be more than enough to pull the harlot from her lair and then raze it to the ground”.  He turned his attention back the followers assembled behind him.  “This will be executed properly”, he barked.  “Set’s wishes here are clear, but I will not risk leaving the headquarters defense to incompetent underlings while we deal with this… annoyance”.

Agymeph turned his attention to a cloaked and hooded figure in the back.  “You will remain here until called for”.  “Meanwhile, watch for reinforcements or other treachery”.

The mysterious figure nodded silently.

Not wanting to give anyway the presumed advantage of surprise, Agymeph snapped his fingers and pointed towards the temple.  His men immediately moved out.  Everyone quickly and silently moved into position and then the lead group burst through the main temple doors.

The doors crashed open loudly and violently, and the first 8 of the Djeret raiders burst into the nearly black temple.  The redheaded figure at the altar remained in a seated kneeling position, completely silent and her back to the invaders.  Blades drawn, they eagerly advanced, rushing down the short flight of stairs.  No sooner had they reached the bottom of the steps than one felt a resistance at his ankle.

The tripwire sprung and arrows launched at out of the darkness, striking every member of the group at least once.  Most were killed.  Two fell to the floor bleeding profusely and screaming in pain.  Outside, Agymeph quickly realized what had happened.

“You think yourself clever, whore?”, he yelled through the open doorway.  “You will bleed for that”.  “When I am done ravaging your body and spirit, you will beg me death and release into Set’s dread realm”.

“Funny how everybody tells me I’m weak, helpless and another victim, yet I still live… while many of them do not”, replied Tyche from inside the temple.  Her tone was mocking and snarky, clearly designed to provoke the Djeret.

Agymeph roared in rage.  “Djeret, ATTACK!” he screamed.

At that barked command, several more Djeret dropped down from the back of the temple, slipping between it and the falls.  Screams of agony quickly followed as they all landed on rows of sword length blades hidden by the darkness and water, and all coated with a gooey, viscous toxin.

“Tsk tsk tsk”, came Tyche’s mocking voice from within the temple.  “How have you Djeret managed to survive so long with so little intelligence, strength, or cunning?”

Outside, Agymeph screamed in rage and threw his shield against the temple wall, swearing profusely in Stygian.  After a few moments, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and centered himself.

“Your death will be slow and painful, whore of Derketo!”, Agymeph yelled up the stairs.  “And I would estimate that you’re fast running out of tricks as well”.

“Come in and find out”, Tyche taunted back.  “Or is it true that the Djeret choose their leaders based on how small their manhood and courage both are?”.

Agymeph stormed up the stairs to the opened doorways.  Seeing the figure kneeling before the altar in the darkness, he grabbed the spear out of the hands of a nearby minion, and hurled it at the figure.  “DIE WHORE!”, he screamed as the spear struck it’s target squarely in the back.  There was a muffled scream, and the body fell over, blood flowing profusely from it all over the marble floors.

Agymeph and his remaining men ran over to the body.  He kicked it over onto it’s back with his foot, the blanket around it falling away to reveal a smaller Stygian man with long red hair, bound and gagged, and wearing the armor of a Djeret scout.

Tyche’s mocking laugher echoed through the otherwise eerily quiet, darkened temple.  “Illusion is remarkably effective against the dull witted”.  She cackled evilly again, “I admit it was a challenge to style his hair however”.  “You Djeret have such horrid hygiene”.

Agymeph raised his arm into the air and a large sphere of light appeared in his open palm, illuminating a large portion of the temple.  No sooner had he done so than an ostrich egg struck him in the chest and shattered.  The egg shell was filled with some sort of powder that quickly filled the immediate area and clung to Agymeph and the men closest to him.  The light in his outstretched hand quickly fizzled and went out.  He tried 3 more times to recast his magical spell.

The sound of Tyche snickering cruelly flowed through the temple.  The sound echoed off the stone walls of the empty temple and made locating it’s source problematic at best.

“Don’t bother”, Tyche mocked.  “The primary ingredient in that grenade is lead”.  “It’s bane to any sort of magic or mentalism, no matter how powerful”.

“Afraid of the power of my sorcery, harlot?”, Agymeph mocked.

“Humilating you in a duel of mysticism would be satisfying”, Tyche replied from somewhere in the darkness.  “This is a better object lesson though…”.  “There is no amount of physical strength or magical power that can’t be overcome with cunning and preparation”.

“You overestimate yourself, whore!”, screamed Agymeph furiously as he tried to wipe the sticky dust from himself.

“No, you underestimate me”, Tyche corrected.  “Don’t feel bad”, she mocked.  “I carefully craft an image of being weaker and less capable than I am, even with allies”.  “It makes outmaneuvering arrogant fools like you so much easier”

With that, the doors of the temple slammed shut, moved by some invisible force.   Agymeph and his men formed a small circle, nervously looking about.

“Now…”, Tyche taunted, “Let us see who is the predator and who is the prey”.

FAIR WARNING:  Things are going to get graphic in a few different ways here.  If you’re squeamish or easily offended, you might want to back out now. 

“Spread out… carefully, and find the witch”, Agymeph barked.  “She’s weak and no match us”.  “All she has is cheap tricks”.

It’s just like the plays back in Aquilonia where fools wander into some ancient evil and immediately split up so they can be destroyed one by one, Tyche mused to herself.

Tyche watched patiently from the shadows, slowly stalking her foes and giving them time to spread out.  One of them walked towards the baths at the rear of the temple, down the short corridor between them.  Suddenly Tyche grabbed him from behind, putting a hand over his mouth while she slit his throat with her dagger.  Before he could even gurgle a death noise, Tyche jumped up, grabbed the framework surrounding the bath, and kicked him with both legs into the water and onto several of the blades that had done in his comrades.  His body twitched and convulsed a few times before going completely limp on the bed of spikes he was impaled on.

The noise of his shield hitting the stone floor and his body landing on the blades quickly caught the attention of the remaining Djeret.  They all converged on the bath area.

“Where is she?!?”, Agymeph demanded angrily.

“I…  I don’t know, my lord”, the first Djeret to get there replied.  “She… disappeared”.

Two of the Djeret had hung back, not so eager to rush into an ambush.  They lingered near the edge of the open water surrounding the dais and altar.  Again, Tyche struck from behind, this time wrenching one’s neck and snapping it.

As the limp body fell to the ground, the other Djeret swung his Khopesh at Tyche.  She rolled forward and under the swing, coming up with a backwards slice across the rear of his knee joint.  The Djeret warrior’s body toppled backwards as Tyche’s slice carried her arm past his chest.  She reversed her swing and sunk the blade of the dagger hilt deep in the Djeret’s chest.

Agymeph and the others turned just as Tyche had rolled underneath the khopesh swing.  “GET HER!”, he screamed.

By that point, Tyche had buried the dagger into the second warrior, killing him.  She promptly dived into the shallow water and disappeared under the floor as the remaining Djeret rushed over.

“Set damned that accursed whore!”, Agymeph howled in rage as Tyche narrowly escaped his own attack.

A few moments later, Tyche’s voice echoed from somewhere in the darkness…  “If you weren’t so blinded by your fanatical hatred, you’d realize that priests and priestesses of Derketo are more than helpless whores”, Tyche snapped, her own anger showing.  “Derketo is a goddess of death and rebirth as well”.  “Many of us are capable in either direct battle or discrete assassination, among many other skills”.

“The only skill I’m interested in is how loudly you can scream, witch whore!”, Agymeph snarled.

“You’re not man enough to make me scream.”, Tyche taunted.  “Far from it”.

“Keep digging your grave deeper, harlot”, Agymeph snarled.

In the darkness, Tyche weighed her options.  There were four other Djeret and the leader still left inside.  A stand-up fight was still out of the question at this point.  She’d foregone her armor for the sake of stealth and speed, and was only armed with a pair of daggers at her waist.  The lightweight, short length toga she wore was soaking wet and clung to her like a second skin

Direct confrontation is out, for now, she thought.  They’re scared and desperate.  Cornered animals become dangerous.

All the remaining Djeret kept a distance from the water now, wary of that trap.  In fact, they all tried to stay in the open as much as the temple’s pillars would allow.  There was no easy way to get at any of them.  Then one wandered towards the stairway where Tyche was hiding.  She smiled wickedly…

The Djeret slowly approached the stairway, circling in place every few steps.  Suddenly, something seemed to pull at his attention… It was akin to that eerie feeling of being watched, but more intense… more alluring.  He turned towards the stairs and saw an exquisitely beautiful curvaceous woman standing there on the stairs.  Her eyes were captivating; so deep and dazzling…  They almost seemed to be glowing.

The mysterious woman held a finger up to her lips, urging him to be quiet as she beckoned him forward with her other hand.  He knew he should alert… somebody.  He couldn’t find his voice though or focus on anything other than the woman before him.  He tried to resist, his foot only partially moving forward and trembling.

The woman gave him a disappointed look and then slowly slid the strap of her gown off her left shoulder.  The gown slid down her arm and allowed her breast to slip free.  Her breasts were large, pale and oddly firm.  The Djeret’s gaze first fell upon the goosebumps all over the exposed one, then the large, pink nipple hardening and demanding his attention.

He staggered forward, completely entranced with the woman before him.  He walked right into her arms and she pressed herself against him, helping him remove his weapons and shield as she rubbed herself provocatively against him.  She removed his helmet next, and placed it silently on the ground.  She stood back up and kissed him passionately as he wrapped his arms around her.  She slipped one hand between his tasset and leggings, teasing and caressing his manhood with her fingertips through the leggings.  She slipped her other hand under the folds of his reptile leather chest piece, caressing his chest as well.

He realized he felt weaker, almost sick, for some reason and tried to pull away from her.  As he did she deepened the kiss.  He suddenly felt a stabbing, clutching pain in his chest and groin.  He struggled against both the rushing darkness and the woman but to no avail.  Tyche silently lowered his body to the floor of the stairwell and moved him out of sight from the others.  Afterwards, she pulled the strap of her gown back up, covering herself.

Guess his heart wasn’t in it, Tyche smirked to herself.  Three and the leader to go.

Taking out the leader first would have been the best way to go, Tyche thought to herself.  It would have broken morale and let them without direction.  He’s being very cagey despite my efforts to anger him into recklessness.  Tyche sighed almost silently.  I’ll just have to make do.

Tyche slipped along the upper walkway, and then slipped thru the heavy door to the second level, securing it behind her.  She grabbed a small piece of wood from the carpenter’s bench, and then a rope and a small blade from the temple’s interrogation cell.  Afterwards, she made her way to the central opening, and glanced down at the altar directly below.

You ask much of your servant, Milady, Tyche half prayed.  I pray you’re ready to aid her in the task you placed before her.

Tyche took the small piece of wood and dropped in on the opposite side of the altar from the Djeret forces, who had closed ranks by now.  The wood landed right at the edge of the altar and made the kind of muffled noise Tyche hoped for.  She knew dropping a stone would have been too loud.  At best, the noise would sound contrived to an experienced soldier already leery of ambush.  At worst, it would have given away her location above.

All four remaining men turned and looked in the direction of the noise.  Agymeph scowled, then pointed at one warrior and then a second, then motioned for them to investigate.   The two gave each other uneasy looks and then circled around the outer area towards the entry to the dais area.  Agymeph and the remaining man, his second in command, followed several meters behind.

The two reached the dais area, circling in place as they went.  The first on got directly in front of the altar and cast a wary glace at the imposing figure of Derketo looming over the altar in the darkness. As he did, a chill ran down his spine.  He swallowed hard and took a step to his left, preparing to circle around the altar.

No sooner had he done so than a noose fell down from above and landed around the neck of the second soldier close behind him.  With a choking gasp, he was hoisted into the air as Tyche came falling down, holding the other end of the rope and acting as a counterweight to lift the hapless warrior upward.  As all this happened, the other Djeret spun in place.  Tyche swung on the rope and kicked him squarely in the chest with both feet.  He staggered backwards, tripping over the altar and landing on his back, sprawled across the altar.

“DEFILER!” boomed an ethereal but authoritative feminine voice from seemingly everywhere.  The eyes of the Derketo statue glowed blood red in the darkness and the Djeret on the altar immediately burst into roaring flames of darkness.  He screamed in pain and thrashed about the altar as the mystical flames consumed him completely.

“Kill the whore!”, Agymeph screamed as both remaining men ran toward Tyche.

Tyche landed on the temple floor and gave the rope a violent yank, pulling with all her strength.  There was a sickening snapping sound and the suspended Djeret’s body went limp.

Tyche let go of the rope and rolled under the khopesh swing of Agymeph’s second.  She came up in a crouch and swept his legs out from underneath him.  He landed flat on his back and looked up just in time to see the lifeless body fall on top of him.

Tyche finished her sweep and came up on her feet barely in time to lean back and attempt to dodge a khopesh swing from Agymeph.  The sword just barely connected, cutting horizontally through the bodice of her toga and leaving a light cut across her right breast.

Tyche growled.  “That better not leave a scar you bastard”, she snarled.

“Scars will be the least of your worries, witch whore”, Agymeph snarled gleefully.

Agymeph lunged at Tyche with a thrust of his khopesh.  An unusual attack for a weapon designed for slashing, but Tyche dodged to the side.  Her head briefly spun, but by sheer force of will she held off the vertigo.  She grabbed Agymeph’s wrist with her right hand and struck his elbow with the palm of her left hand.

The move should have shattered his elbow.  It did manage to hyperextend it enough to cause Agymeph to cry out in pain and drop his weapon.

Agymeph yanked his captured arm free of Tyche’s grip and then shoulder blocked her squarely with all his strength.  Tyche fell clumsily to the ground, landing on her back, the force of the blow and her landing momentarily knocking the wind out of her.

What’s wrong with me, Tyche thought.  I feel so weak and disoriented.  She glanced down at the small cut across her breast and the trickle of blood from it.  Around the cut had turned black.  Poison, she thought.  Damned it.

“That’s right, whore,” Agymeph remarked glibly with a smirk.  “My blade is mystical, and constantly exudes a deadly poison.”

He began loosening his armor’s Tasset as Tyche tried weakly to crawl backwards away from him.  He dropped his tasset, exposing his erect manhood.  He grabbed Tyche by both ankles and pulled her to him, kneeling and putting her ankles over his shoulders, pinning her as he wiggled into position to take her.

“The last thing you will feel is my seed inside your worthless body before you die”, Agymeph snarled arrogantly.  “Then I will raze your disgusting temple, and hang your lifeless body from the gates of our city”.  “All will see that your sisterhood and your god are weak and helpless before the power of Set and the Djeret”.

Tyche struggled against Agymeph, but he had his weigh pinned on top of her, and the poison was quickly weakening her.  Agymeph smirked smugly and, after a bit of struggling, pinned both her wrists over her head.  He forced them together and then held them with one hand while the other pulled the bottom of her toga to her waist.   It took little effort to accomplish that and expose Tyche’s bare womanhood him.

“No undergarments”, Agymeph snorted mockingly.  “So you prepared yourself for me.”

“Don’t… flatter yourself”, Tyche spat, continuing to struggle.

“I seem to recall somebody mocking my manhood”, Agymeph replied smugly.  “…that I wasn’t man enough to make you scream.”  He leaned forward and whispered into Tyche’s ear.  “You will scream in both pain and pleasure before I’m done.  Then you will die with me still inside you, knowing how utter your defeat was”.

Tyche went completely limp, and her eyes filled with tears.

Agymeph laughed wickedly.  “You whores… so pathetically easy to break”.

Agymeph smirked as he relaxed slightly and moved to position the head of his penis against Tyche’s tight, wet slit.

As he did, Tyche wrenched her left hand free and grabbed the small blade that was strapped to her sandal.  In one fluid motion, she pulled it free, circled around and plunged it into Agymeph’s side.

“Fool”, Tyche snapped.  “So easily deceived by a woman feigning weakness”.

Agymeph yelped in pain and snarled.  He raised his arm to strike Tyche brutally and then convulsed a few times before his body went limp.

“Looks like my poison was stronger than yours”, Tyche snarled weakly.  She wrapped her legs tightly around Agymeph’s head, and rolled him off of her.  “Good thing too…”  “I couldn’t have lived with myself if I let filth like you inside of me”.

Tyche struggled to get to her feet, but collapsed back into a sitting position, coughing.  The room was growing dimmer and she was getting weaker by the second.  She crawled weakly towards the altar.  She got to the edge of the dais entrance on all fours before she collapsed onto her stomach.  Everything was growing black, and her body was failing her fast.   She crawled on her belly, so weak it took her over a minute to cover the few meters to the altar.  Sheer force of will pushed her on, until she grabbed a potion off the altar.  After fumbling a few moments to open it, she downed it and collapsed with her back against the altar.

“That was close…  too close.”, Tyche muttered, covered in sweat and gasping for breath as she rubbed the last remaining remnant of potion onto her breast.  Thru the cut in her toga, the blackness around her cut quickly withdrew into nothingness.

Tyche laid there for a few minutes, regaining her strength, then got to her feet a bit slowly.  The poison still wasn’t quite fully out of her system, but the antidote potion was working rapidly.  She walked over to Agymeph and spit on him.

“I guess we know who’s the better now, don’t we, you pig?”, Tyche mocked.

Tyche was struck on the back of the head hard.  She fell to all fours struggling to remain conscious.  Her head was spinning and she saw stars.

“We do indeed”, mocked Agymeph’s lieutenant, standing over her from behind.

Tyche mentally cursed herself for letting the poison make her forget about the downed warrior.  He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up to her knees, then grabbed her wrists and roughly bound her wrists behind her back.  He then forced her to her feet, pushing up on her wrists until she was on her tip toes.  While not as tall or powerfully built as Agymeph, the man was still large and towered over the 5’ 3” Tyche.

“Agymeph was an arrogant fool”, he said snidely, pushing Tyche against the nearby pillar.  Her face and breasts pushed firmly against the cool marble as he pushed his body against hers from behind.

The warrior leaned in and sniffed Tyche’s hair, inhaling the floral scent of the mixture she used as part of her impeccable grooming routine.

He spoke softer, almost into her ear as he relished the power he had over her.  “I knew his arrogance would be the end of him sooner or later”.  “Power almost always leads to that kind of hubris”.  “All I had to do was bide my time…”.  He slipped a hand underneath the hem of Tyche’s toga, roughly massaging her curvaceous rear.  His momentary stopping told Tyche that he was surprised at how firm it was.

“I admit, I was surprised that a mere slip of a pale Aquilonian woman was his end…”, he said in a snarky tone.  He slipped his hand a bit lower and continued to knead Tyche’s ass.  “There’s more to you than meets the eye however, isn’t there?”, he continued in a lust-filled tone.

Tyche grunted and struggled futilely against the weight against her, feeling his manhood harden against her as she did.

“Perhaps we should see just what that more might be…”, he said wickedly.  He stepped back and spun Tyche around, then shoved her back against the pillar.  Still groggy from the blow, Tyche was helpless to resist.  His large hands grabbed the bodice of her short toga and tore it downward, ripping the entire length of it and baring Tyche’s body completely to him.

Tyche moved her left thigh inward and upward, trying to obscure his view of her sex.  Even in the dim light of the darkened temple, the neatly trimmed strip of fiery red hair was still clearly visible.  His eyes locked hungrily on that sight before drifting upwards to Tyche’s massive breasts, fixing upon her rapidly hardening large nipples.

“Impressive”, he remarked, pawing at her left breast roughly.  “Your garments hid your assets surprisingly well.

Tyche struggled against his unwelcome advances and was quickly grabbed by the throat for her efforts.

“Special… tailoring…”, Tyche struggled.

“To what end?”, he demanded, his tone becoming a bit curious as well.  “You’re a whore”.  “Your craft demands you display your assets”.

Tyche coughed and slightly smirked.  “I thought you were smarter than Agymeph”, she struggled.  “What is implied and captures imagination is far more powerful that what’s revealed openly”.  “That is the true art of womanly seduction”.  “Besides, too many… men and women both, associate ample breasts with lack of intellect”.

“24 men dead via your cunning and treachery”, he remarked in a tone that was both callous and somewhat flippant at the same time.  “I certainly won’t make that mistake with you”.

“I’m touched”, Tyche quipped back snidely.

“You’ll be far more than touched…”, he remarked hungrily.  “I intend to enjoy my prize fully”, he added, leering at her nearly nude body.

“I’d almost be tempted to leave you alive afterwards”, he remarked, tracing a circle around the tip of Tyche’s rapidly hardening nipple.  “You’re far too treacherous a harlot for that though”.   “Bringing you to the village will be proof of my victory, and superiority over Agymeph”.

Tyche thrashed about as he tried to force his free hand between her legs, growling the entire time.

He tightened his grip around Tyche’s throat, causing her to cough and choke.  “It’s your choice how you want to enter the village; as a slave or a corpse”.

Tyche stopped fighting.

“You’re not exactly enticing me”, Tyche replied dryly.  “Death now, humiliation and death later…”, she continued.  “What’s the difference, dead is dead”.  She shrugged as she continued to struggle against the ropes binding her wrists.

Tyche’s yet unnamed captor let out a derisive snort.  “And I suppose this is where I relent and offer you your pathetic life in exchange for your… cooperation”.  His tone grew more contempt filled with each word.

“Well…”, Tyche started.

The hand around Tyche’s throat tightened, choking her and cutting off her sentence.  “Your… incentive is that there are many, many ways to die”.  “Some… far more painful and degrading than others”, he added.   He paused for a moment.  “Let me make it clear, you have no leverage here”.  “Your life is already forfeit, your body is mine regardless of what you do”.   “Resist if you like”.  “I actually enjoy that”.  He smiled evilly, a cold and dark look in his eyes.  “I promise you however, will not”.

Tyche paused, a look of deep thought on her face.  Her head fell forward, and her shoulders drooped.  “Don’t expect me to enjoy it…”, she replied quietly.

He let out another derisive snort and led her by the hair over to the side of the temple, onto one of the larger blankets, then tore the straps of her toga and removed the remains completely from her.  Tyche shivered as the cool temple air caressed her nude body.  She’d made sure its construction included remarkable insulation against the daytime temperatures outside.  The walls even included black ice; stealing a design feature from preservation boxes and ensuring the temple was as comfortable as a modern air-conditioned building.

The goosebumps racing across Tyche’s body only seemed to excite the large Stygian.  He shoved her down onto the blanket, and she landed on her back on the pile of pillows there.  He immediately grabbed one of her ankles and began pulling off her sandal.

“No point in taking any chances you may have something else hidden in these, hmm?”, he said with a smirk.  He unlaced and removed first one, then threw it across the room, then the other, also throwing it far out of reach.  All the while Tyche continued to struggle with the ropes around her wrists.

He undressed himself as Tyche lay there, glaring at him.  He quickly finished, making sure to place his weapons well out of Tyche’s reach.  When done, he stood there staring down at Tyche with a smug look on his face, his cock fully erect.  It was large too, not the biggest she’d seen, but almost 8 inches she’d guess and girthy as well.

“Am I supposed to be impressed?”, she asked contemptfully.  “How it’s used is far more important than its size”.

“Then let me show you how I use it”, he snarled.  He kneeled down and grabbed Tyche by the hips flipping her over.  With her hands still tied behind her back, she ended up face down ass up with her cheek pressed into a pillow.

Tyche admittedly loved this position on the rare times she found a partner that she truly respected, and trusted enough to be this vulnerable.  A normal woman was completely under the control of their partner in this position after all.  The main problem was Tyche’s high standards for taking a lover into her bed as an equal.  Being forced into such a vulnerable, submissive position by an inbred Stygian attacker galled her to no end.

He moved into position behind her and paused, noticing the light, fading scars running horizontally across her back.  “I see you’ve had to be put in your place before, harlot”, he said smugly.  Tyche could almost feel the smug smirk on his faces as he ran his fingertips across her back.  “Then you should be used to what’s to come…”.  He slapped her hard across the ass, causing Tyche to yelp.  Tyche tried to struggle, but he kept a firm grip on her hips and slid into her.  He hilted himself inside her with one swift stroke, causing Tyche to cry out.

He took her slowly and deliberately.  Each thrust was hard and deep.  Tyche struggled to remember her training, relaxing her womanhood to accommodate the large member filling it.  She hated to admit it, but his skill was above many men she’d bedded also.  Every thrust was slightly downward, rubbing her g-spot and making her focus difficult.

“By Set, woman!”, he exclaimed.  “You are tight”.  “I suppose your whore training was useful for something after all”, he added laughing coldly as he continued to thrust.

Tyche cried out with each thrust, her breaths coming as moaning gasps between thrusts.  She quickly found her center and began tightening and relaxing her vaginal muscles with each thrust, milking his cock as he rode her.

“By…  The… gods… woman… what sorcery…”, he gasped, his eyes momentarily growing wide.

Tyche remained silent, save for her moans and cries of pleasure.  Driven to new levels of desire by the sensation Tyche’s technique, he thrust even more wildly.  Soon his cries of pleasure were drowning out Tyche’s own.

Tyche began thrusting her hips back, meeting his every thrust.   By this point he’d lost all self-control and was thrusting wildly into as his head fell back and he howled with wild desire.  Following her training, Tyche mentally tugged on his spiritual energy while circulating her own.  She quickly established a figure 8 of energy, flowing a loop down her chest to her genitals, into him, up his spine, then down his chest, back into her and up her spine before returning down her chest.  It was an advanced technique.  She doubted few others in the sisterhood knew it, outside of Amrita and perhaps Salome.  Focusing on both their root chakras, Tyche drew out the base sexual energy in both f them and then focused it on amplifying sensitivity and sexual response.

Tyche was used to the reaction her body had.  She’d used similar techniques many times before, particularly with poorly skilled partners to make the experience satisfactory.  She howled with pleasure and began heavily lubricating.  She even felt her breasts swell some and become even more sensitive.  Still, it was all an experience she was used to.  She maintained a semblance of self-control and continued her techniques flawlessly.

Her attacker, on the other hand, was completely overwhelmed by the intensity of his body’s sudden responsiveness.  Within moments, his body convulsed, and he exploded inside her in the most intense orgasm of his life.  He nearly blacked out from the experience.

Tyche, feeling the warm wetness fill her, and urged on by the flood of energy from his orgasm, was rocked by an intense orgasm as well…  She screamed in pleasure as her body shook like it was struck by lightning.  Her pussy clenched tightly around him and quivered as the orgasm rolled over her.  He collapsed against her and she rolled onto her side, while he ended up next to her facing, him.

He panted, covered in sweat and nearly exhausted.

It took Tyche just a moment to regain her senses.  Her attacker, as she’d hoped, seemed totally spent from their coupling.  He lay there, panting and covered in sweat with his eyes closed, ready to pass out.  She slipped the ropes binding her wrists, and lunged for the weapons that lay set aside nearby.  Her hand came within inches of the nearby dagger when she was grabbed by the ankle and yanked backwards hard.

“Where do you think you’re going, whore?”, her attacker demanded, pulling her towards him.

“Away from you, pig of a male”, Tyche snapped in reply.  As she did, she swung her free leg around and kicked her attacker square in the jaw, then stomp kicked his shoulder.  The combination of blows stunned him enough to release her, and she scrambled forward towards the dagger again.

It was nearly in her grasp when a boot came stomping down on her wrist, causing her to shriek in pain.  That was followed by a kick to her face that sent her rolling over onto her back.  She looked up to see a slender figure dressed in Djeret armor.  Even in the dark, there was no mistaking the feminine curves of her new attacker.

Bet most of you forgot about the one left outside, huh?

No sooner had she finished rolling onto her back, the large male had grabbed one of her ankles again.  She went to kick him again, but this time her caught her foot and now held both her ankles in his hands.

Tyche locked eyes with him as she struggled in vain against his muscular grasp.  His eyes looked almost crazed.  It was a condition she’d heard about before but had yet to see and she realized she’d made a critical mistake.  In her effort to exhaust him, Tyche had been too forceful with the manipulation of their sexual energies.  The result being that she’d blown his chakras wide open and he was sex crazed from the imbalance.

Damnit, Tyche cursed herself mentally.  I was way too careless…  A combination of the poison and this damned bracelet clouding my senses and control.

Tyche continued to wiggle her legs, trying to slip his grasp to no avail.  She struggled to get propped up on her elbows as well.  That was cut short by the woman kicking her arms out from underneath her.

“Not like you to be so careless, Septapis.”, the woman remarked with a casual coldness as she dropped down just above Tyche and grabbed her wrists.

“Silence, Nefu’ane”, the large man snapped.

“I mean really…”, Nefu’ani replied, continuing to egg him on.  “Using a sharpened fingernail to cut and escape bindings is an old trick among the women who whore for Derketo”.  She forced Tyche’s right hand up as if to accentuate the point.  “Was the whore truly so good a fuck that you lost all sense?”

“Worried you’ll be replaced?”, Septapis snarled.

“Hardly”, snapped Nefu’ani coldly.

“He wasn’t calling your name as he climaxed inside me”, Tyche remarked with a snide tone.

Nefu’ane struggled to pin both of Tyche’s hands with one of her own, and then slapped Tyche across the face hard.

“Truth hurts, huh?”, Tyche said with a smirk.  “Besides, if you’re the same Nefu’ani who betrayed the sisterhood years ago, you’re the true whore”.  “Turning to the Djeret of your own free will for a handful of gold”.

“I was never truly a part of your profane cult of Derketo”, Nefu’ani snapped.  “I was sent to infiltrate by the temple of Set and destroy your so-called Sisterhood from within”.  “I left when the temple started to adopt a slightly more tolerant view of your whoring and filthy false goddess”.  “The Djeret see things clearly”.

Septapis moved in closer, forcing himself between Tyche’s legs and then hovering over her with his hands on the ground on either side of her head.  “Nefu’ani’s deceptions are the least of your worries, Aquilonian whore”, he said menacingly.

Tyche struggled to get her hands, pinned above her head against the ground, free.  She also pushed against Septapis with her hips, trying to back him off.  Both moves were futile, and only elicited an evil laugh from the large Stygian.

Tyche responded with a snarl and then spit in his face.  Septapis, wiped the spit away, and snarled.  He prepared to strike Tyche, but caught sight of his hand; spit and greyish metallic gunk running down it.  He then glanced down at his chest, still sweaty from violating Tyche, and saw a similar scene.  He paused half a moment before laughing cruelly”.

“Water?!?”, he laughed again.  “All it took to remove your accursed anti magic filth was simple water…”  “Agymeph was truly an even bigger fool than I imagined to miss this.”  He looked back to the falls at the rear of the temple.  “Particularly with such a ready solution right at hand”.

Septapis rose to his feet pulling Tyche up by the hair with him.  Tyche tried to swing at him, but Nefu’ani quickly hooked her arms underneath Tyche’s and pinned her arms behind her back.

“Come whore…”, Septapis barked.  “We’re going to do away with your magic disruption, then…”, he paused for a half second before laughing coldly again.  “…then the fun will truly begin”.  He pulled Tyche towards the falls…


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