Rily grew up in hard times. The hard times had come after harder times before, but their relative ease was no balm to one born of them. The lands were poor and the people in them were poorer still, preyed upon by vultures real and metaphorical. She did what she could to defend her family, her little brothers, taking up arms to defend their farm, and even other farmers.
The early weapons were simple, the club, the pitchfork, but in time she held the sword. The sword wasn't just a tool, a weapon of resort, it in itself was a symbol, the willingness to commit violence, the willingness to kill.
And against the bandits, against the gnolls, against the rest Rily followed through. And by the time she was a grown woman, Rily was a hero, at least to those who knew her. Yet there was a great need for heroes, even beyond the western fields.
And so Rily became an adventurer, a warrior of sword and shield. Tall for a human woman, well muscled and over time well armored. She called herself a tank, though such an appellation was largely aspirational. She knew how to scrap, certainly, and how to kill when necessary.
But her first dungeon was proving to be another challenge entirely.
"Come on! I don't have all day!" Called out the dwarven rogue, face full of beardly ambition.
"My mana is fine. I'm ready to burn!" Called out the gnomish 'mage', her bare arms scarred with the marks of assisted, and likely licentious self harm.
"You are new to this." regarded the elven priestess Yanra coolly. Yanra wasn't the first elf that Rily had met, though she was the first Rily had ever spent much time with. While Rily was tall, she felt like a gnome next to Yanra, who loomed over her by more than a foot and a half. Rily often found herself getting lost in Yanra's stern features when the elf spoke.
Yanra was calm, especially compared to the other adventurers, but it was the calm of a lion who hasn't yet decided to pounce. A calm born of a casual comfort with violence and an assurance in one's ability to accomplish violent ends.
"Don't engage more than you are ready for." She warned. There was no real condemnation to her words. She knew that Rily was unready, she knew that Rily was unsure. This was not some great failure upon Rily's part, but a simple condition of existence. Yanra had as much reason to be angry at the weather or the clumsiness of a newborn cub.
Such things simply were. And if they had to be changed, Yanra would change them. Her wisdom was lost upon their fellow adventurers.
"Let's Goooooo!" Shouted out the dwarf, rushing into combat heedless of any delays, dual maces whipping out to smack against the first Scarlet Monk in their path. The monk grunted, but was relatively unfazed, responding with disproportionate force before calling out to their allies... all four of them to help.
With a panic, Rily charged in, shoving the dwarf out of the way and slamming her shield against the monk, trying to draw attention away from the over-eager dwarf.
It worked.
Too well. Now all the attention was on Rily herself. And while she had been in a few uneven scraps before, she was used to fighting two enemies at once, not five. And while her fellow adventurers were quite happy to take part in violence, they seemed rather skittish at receiving it, dancing out of the way of blows and fire alike, and leaving Rily in the path of all strikes, all spells.
Rily did want to be a tank, right? And ultimately, being a tank is about being hit in the face twenty times to protect your friends. Ideally. Right now, that dwarf wasn't being her friend.
"Come on ya damn newbie! Keep your chin up and fight!" The dwarf called out, blaming Rily for failing to keep up with the problem that he himself had caused.
But Rily was keeping her chin up, at least for now. Her shield arm went numb, and she dared not look down at the blood beneath her feet, but she was still standing, still conscious. Still going through the motions of sword slashes and shield slams.
But she felt drained. She had spent every inner reserve she had just keeping that dwarf alive, and now, here she was, taking a half dozen hits before she could respond with one.
Behind her, she could make out the reason why. Yanra had been casting, calling down blessings and spells, weaving magic through Rily's flesh again and again. Knitting Rily's bones back nearly as quickly as the monks broke it apart.
At times through this, Rily believed Yanra to be cruel. An almost sadistic belief in the group’s success, not allowing or tolerating failure in her tank. Not letting Rily lie down and die, not letting her pass out, no matter the pain.
And the whole time, that damn dwarf kept complaining. At least until Yanra silenced him with a spell. The dwarf kept moving his mouth, of course, and gesturing angrily, but at least he couldn't be heard.
Finally, through the group's efforts, and bypassing the group's conflicts, the monks were defeated. And Rily was still alive, even if only through Yanra's intervention.
"You panicked." Yanra said in her critique. "You gave everything defending the fool, and had nothing left to defend yourself."
Rily could only try and catch her breath, unable to articulate a response, trying to feel anything beyond pain, though gratified that she could feel her shield arm at all.
"Next time, you should simply let him die." Yanra continued. The dwarf kept silent, bound by Yanra's magics.
"As a tank, your order of priority is this. First, keep your healer, me, alive. Without me, you are doomed. Then keep yourself alive. The rest of the group are luxuries, to be discarded as demanded."
"Hey! We matter too!" Called out the gnome.
"I mean, she kind of has a point." countered the gnomes barely disguised demon attendant.
"Well... I mean, maybe let the dwarf die, but we did our part and didn't cause trouble!" The gnome replied, her face red.
"That's correct." Yanra said with a nod to the gnome. "You were a -good girl-" The gnome's blush got deeper still. Rily felt a sudden pang of resentment, though she couldn't quite understand why.
The dwarf continued to silently rant, before finally leaving the dungeon in frustration. His replacement showed up within minutes and the group was able to continue.
"Pull at a steady rate, not taking on more than you are ready for. But do not panic at the first sign of failure. You have multiple solutions available to you... use only a single one. Just enough effort to raise your shield and save the rest of your reserves for when your shield arm tires." Explained Yanra, with that same eerie calm. It was patronizing, perhaps, but not cruelly so.
Her explanations revealed her sense of superiority, yet such a sense wasn't unjustified.
"Yes ma'am." Rily whispered.
"Good girl." Yanra replied.
And with Yanra's guidance, and with a patience the dwarf lacked, they fought through the legion of Scarlet Monks, and defeated the misguided priestess leading them all. It was painful, a remarkably painful and extended experience.
But it was satisfying. That slow grind. That completion. That sense of cohesion and working as a unit. And finally that success at the end. The reward of lucre and accomplishment.
"You have potential." Commented Yanra as they prepared to part ways.
"Really?" Replied Rily, a little too eagerly.
"I don't give idle praise." Yanra cautioned. "But you could be better. Let me train you, and this all will get easier still."
Rily looked up at Yanra. There was a lot to look up at. Yanra had a womanly shape that Rily had come to admire, but there was something about the elf that was strange, almost too perfect. Too tall. Too sleek, like a predatory cat made of muscle under velvet skin. Too beautiful, like she couldn't really exist at all.
"Yes..." Rily whispered.
"Meet me at The Gilded Keg after sundown." Yanra offered, before leaving on whatever other priestly business she had.
And so Rily was left there, holding her new hammer, heart pounding in her chest. Was this the aftereffect of physical trauma? Or something more dangerous?
And was this a date?
She never got to ask, and as sundown approached, she was increasingly unsure. Should she dress up for this? But there was some suggestion of training. Finally, she decided to wear her armor still, but spent most of the afternoon trying to clean it up, to scrub away the blood, to remove the sweat buildup. Even trying to scent it with something appealing and floral.
Although all this effort left Rily confused. She was straight, wasn't she? She was in her experiences at least, she had fooled around with a few of the boys back in the western fields. And even on occasion, a fellow adventurer or two.
But it was always just sort of there. A thing that was happening around Rily. That was happening to Rily's body. Never something that she was an active participant in. She gulped as she polished her armor.
The sun retreated, removing the protection of delay and Rily walked to the tavern, her footsteps automatic. She entered the dimly lit tavern, and she saw Yanra there, the spider in her lair. She had claimed a table already and had already ordered wine.
The elf poured Rily a glass as Rily moved to sit. Sitting down across from each other, the difference in height was less extreme, but Rily still found herself looking up into Yanra's softly glowing eyes.
"You ordered wine." Rily stated, an unspoken ask, the real questions unsaid. 'Is this a date? Should I expect something romantic? Is this something formal?'
"Yes." Yanra replied, to all the questions, clearly asked and otherwise. "Wine is a useful social lubricant, and you were tense earlier. Don't drink more than a single glass, however, I don't want you fully intoxicated."
She didn't say for what.
"You wanted to train me?" Rily asked, trying to find something to hold onto, a way to avoid getting lost in Yanra's appraising gaze.
"And you wanted to be trained." Yanra countered. Rily had after all accepted the invitation, had showed up to this meeting, had shined her breastplate.
"I'll cut out some of the buildup. You understand the basic dynamic of the group, of the party, even if you haven't yet expressed it in words." Stated Yanra.
"I guess." Replied Rily unsure.
This doubt earned a slight frown from Yanra. "The group works together to achieve what is otherwise unobtainable. The other group members, the damage dealers, are optional, they are force multipliers, not the key components."
"That... makes sense." The two of them likely could have taken on the monastery alone, but it would have taken far longer and been far more tiring.
"Ultimately, it comes down to the dynamic between the Tank and the Healer. You keep our enemies occupied, and I keep you alive. Now, the enemies themselves have a part in this, but again, their role is largely minor. They are the exterior threat. The outside pressure that you must endure."
During the actual dungeon, the various monks had been something of a blur, a frenzy of violence stretched out into a painful monotony. Under Yanra's guidance, Rily was able to extend her reserves, resist that pressure and endure.
"Ultimately, this is about trust." Yanra continued. "You have to trust that I will keep you alive. If I stop healing you, you will die. It may not be sudden, but it is inevitable."
"But you wouldn't!" Rily protested, oddly defensive of this other woman.
"That is what you have to trust in, yes." Yanra said with a slight grin on her face that made Rily anxious. "However, my abilities are not unlimited. If you kept going at that original pace, I would have failed to heal you, and you would have died."
The quick forecast of death was enough to chill Rily. She had known that adventuring was dangerous, any violence was dangerous, but she was not used to it being spoken of so dismissively.
"And so you have to trust that I will succeed, without the certainty that I will. And at the same time, you will have to take efforts to mitigate the need for my healing. But you should measure out your own mitigation, so that it is regularly and evenly applied." Yanra continued.
"Essentially, this is all a dance. Do you know how to dance Rily?" Rily choked a moment. She tried to recall if she ever gave Yanra her name. She must have. But perhaps the shock was deeper, that Yanra as wise and overwhelming as she was had bothered to learn Rily's own name.
"Yes... we would do square dances. We had someone calling out the next steps, and then the couples would follow the steps, and sometimes alternate." Rily replied.
"Good. I am familiar. We practiced similar exercises in the woods, however in our dances, we wielded swords. To step out of place was to risk being cut. Do you know why we danced with swords?"
Rily shook her head.
"Because the dance taught us cohesion, it taught us unity, the principles of the group writ over warfare. To trust in those you dance with, to submit to the greater whole, and in doing so overcome."
There was that word there, submit. It caused Rily to pale. "...submit?"
"Yes. Are you uncomfortable with the concept Rily?"
Rily sat there unsure. She thought she had submitted before, submitted to the clumsy pawing of her peers. But really, had it ever been something so active? No. She had aquiesed to another, but that was something far more mundane.
"I'm not sure."
"Good." Replied Yanra. "It is good to admit your weakness. To be honest. It provides a stronger foundation."
Rily blinked.
"Are you ready to submit to me?" Yanra asked.
Rily took another rushed gulp of wine. She looked up into Yanra's eyes. Yanra looked down at her patiently, with an understanding that vivisected Rily's mind, took her to pieces and knew her better than Rily knew herself.
"Yes."
Could Rily have given any other answer?
"I have a room on the floor above." She placed some coins on the table to cover the wine and uneaten food, and raised to her full height.
Rily's gaze followed Yanra's form. Those muscled shoulders, the wide hips, the powerful legs. While Yanra was a priest by training, she had not entirely neglected the physical, and not for the first time Rily wondered if despite all of Rily's efforts and training, Yanra still was more physically powerful.
As she wondered that, she realized she had stopped breathing and took a deep breath to steady herself, and finally, rising up to follow Yanra upstairs.
Yanra had left the door open for her. Rily strode in after, and Yanra shut the door and latched it.
"We wouldn't want to be disturbed." Yanra said in the dark room. Rily could barely see, but Yanra suffered no such disability. "Now child, I intend you to submit to me just not on the battlefield, but also in the bedroom. I assume you wish this as well."
Rily gulped, looking to the darkened shadow of Yanra towering above her.
"I want your eager consent. Now tell me clearly what you agree to." Yanra demanded.
"...I submit." Rily said after another ineffective calming breath, unable to believe her own words, but even more refusing to live in a timeline where she didn't utter them.
"Fully." Yanra demanded.
"Fully." Rily repeated barely able to feel anything above the beating of her heart.
"Good girl." Responded Yanra with a hidden grin that made Rily's legs weak.
"Take my hand and I will guide you to the bed." Yanra demanded, brushing her own hand against Rily's own. Rily grasped it immediately, marveling for a moment at how much larger Yanra's hands were, how much longer her fingers.
For a moment, Rily was lost at the thought of how deep those fingers could reach inside of her. While adrift, Yanra led her to the darkened room, finally pulling her onto the bed, laying her across the end of it, bent over.
Face down. Ass exposed.
"You were flinching earlier, crying out in pain. I could hear it through the battle." Yanra critiqued and Rily felt shame.
"It was beautiful." Yanra reassured her, reaching around underneath Rily to undo her belt and then start to pull her reinforced pants down, exposing Rily's ass to the cool air of the room.
Rily hadn't worn any underclothes beneath her armor tonight. An eager, desperate hope. A hidden indulgence. A surrender before they even began.
"Good girl." Yanra praised, causing Rily to shiver.
Yanra brought one of her large hands down, not disproportionate on her own frame, but terrifying compared to Rily's own. She finally touched Rily's bare ass, that first contact nearly electric, leaving Rily shivering. The elf traced her fingers along the twin globes of flesh, slowly mapping them in the dark.
"You take good care of yourself physically, I think I will enjoy you." Yanra appraised. "But, we need to work on your capacity for pain. Both professionally and personally."
Yanra gave an appraising hum. "I am greedy. Here there will be no external pressure, I will tolerate no enemies in my sanctum."
"What do you mean?" Finally asked Rily, as her voice returned.
"Here I will be menace and savior. And you will show off to me how much you can endure."
"I... what do you mean?"
"Beg me to hurt you."
"Yes!" Rily cried out before she could think about it. And before she could reflect on her instinctual choice, she felt Rily's hand come crashing down across her ass, sure to leave a mark from the first blow, but the blows continued after, the echo of repeated smacks filling the room.
Until they were joined by Rily's screams. Rily had been right, Yanra was stronger than her, of that there was no doubt, but she didn't hate what was being done to her. She was proud. It was a chance to show off, to show what she could endure.
To show what she would submit to.
"Very good girl." Yanra praised her, before following it up with a precisely aimed swat. Bypassing Rily's ass completely, Yanra instead spanked those same long powerful fingers across Rily's drooling pussy lips, stinging with overwhelming intensity.
Rily felt her whole world shift. The pain overwhelming her mind, hurting more than any of the blows from the dungeon before, or at least, all the more intimately. Leaving her floating, living in a world with just her and her priestess.
With her will bowed in supplication to the woman who hurt her. Who saved her. Who savored her screams. Rily was still floating as she was flipped over, laying now on her back, her legs instinctively parted, as were her lips.
Yanra brought her fingers back down, but this time in reward, brushing those fingers across Rily's still stinging labia, sparking a confusing contrast of pleasure. Strong fingers pushing through squishy dripping flesh, manipulating, stirring, drawing out.
Finally two of those fingers pressed between, pushing into Rily's pussy directly, changing the timbre of the tank's screams, Rily surrendering to sensation and the overpowering healer alike.
And all of this, from only part of Yanra's hand. Her palm came down finally, rubbing against Rily's extended clit with each movement, touching and pleasing Rily inside and out, with a skill that Rily had never before experienced.
Finally bringing Rily through to a pleasure she had never imagined, never could have conceived of in her awkward fumblings, but now, would insist on no alternatives to.
She knew who she was now.
Rily the Tank.
Her Healer's Slut.
A good girl.