She does, just barely

Keyleth, long deprived of contact with humanoids other than you, and full of the pent-up sexual frustration she'd experienced since her lover's ****, dives headfirst into her task. When you first brought her under your heel, she was eager but sloppy, shy and too afraid of failure to do a good job.

But Vex has trained her whole life to remain still, to stay silent in the dead of night when on the trail of a monstrous beast. Her whole-body tenses with exertion, and although she can't keep from letting out a few whimpers as she thrashes against Keyleth's eager tongue, she manages to make it the full ten minutes without giving in.

When you snap your fingers, and Keyleth is shoved away from her victim. As she lands in a nearby corner, she glances up at you in terror, afraid of what punishment she might suffer for failing to properly entertain you.

"Congratulations, Lady Vex'ahlia." You say, clapping sarcastically as you step up to the trussed-up bitch. "You managed to subvert the twat that's led you around your entire life."

Vex glares at you, eyes simmering with hate, face shiny with tears and perspiration. "Fuck off." She demands through gritted teeth, with as much dignity as someone who is restrained, half-naked and dripping can.

You smile. It would be easy to break your promise, it would be the easiest thing in the world. But where was the fun in that?

"Alright, little elf girl," You say, grabbing her throat to prevent her from trying to head butt or bite you. You lean toward one of her half-elven ears and whisper into it. "Have a nice time."

***

When Vex'ahlia opens her eyes, she is no longer in a dank, moldering dungeon. She is sitting at a massive table, in the dining hall of Whitestone Castle. At her left, sits her brother, playing with one of the knives as he listens, bored, to the political bullshit circling around them. At her right, sits her husband, his hand wrapped around hers and gently rubbing her wedding band.

Across from her, sits Taryon, smiling and eager to be among friends as always. Next to him is Kima, pretending not to find his enthusiasm and bravado insufferable, while Allura struggles not to laugh at her wife's frustration. At the head of the table sits Cassandra, listening to Keeper Yennen on her right, while Zahra enjoys some time away from the children on her left.

The children...that's right. She has children. She looks up from the table and sees them, out on the ballroom floor, laughing and dancing along with Velora, while Scanlan and Pike watch over them. Scanlan and Pike, the two of them could protect anything. Vex'ahlia catches the bard's eye while he's letting them take turns riding Bigby's hand. He gives her a wink and she feels flushed with love and safety.

Then Percival takes her by the hand and lifts her up from her seat. He draws her away from the table and up a flight of stairs, telling her how radiant she has looked this entire evening.

A door opens and they step out onto the balcony, overlooking Whitestone, now a bustling city, wrought with pipes and clicking with clockwork. She's never been so proud, never been so sure of where it is she calls home.

Then she hears the whispers. The whispers, which have spread out across the globe since the return of the dead god. The whispers which have infested their dreams, which echo between the alabaster sierras. The whispers that weigh on her mind and shatter all thoughts of resistance and disobedience.

She is no longer in Percy's arms now; she is instead being held by Sylas Briarwood. He rips away her dress, destroying the delicate fabric without the expending an ounce of his immense strength. She stands in her undergarments on the balcony, paralyzed by the hypnotic nature of his predatory gaze and the knee weakening scent of his metallic musk.

She knows he could kill her, could snap her neck with the flick of his fingers. He could throw her from the tower in this moment. But that's not what terrifies her the most. What terrifies her is what might happen to her children and her siblings and her friends, if she resists the will of the Whispered One's servant.

He forces her chest down onto the railing and fucks her in the moonlight, drilling forth keening moans of pain and lust from her traitorous mouth. With her incredible perception, she sees the watching palace guards, stalling in their patrols to watch the spectacle. The **** of their baroness, the representation of their city's submission to the forces of darkness.

When he's done with her, he drags her back inside the bedroom and tosses her onto the massive bed. There waiting for her is Lady Delilah and Anna Ripley, returned from the dead by the miracle of Vecna's magic. They grab her, not nearly as strong as a vampire, but strong enough to overpower her, to **** her into pleasuring them. All her courage and self-reliance crumbles under the grip of their delicate hands, as she works hard to please them, knowing that if they are disappointed, it will not be her who is punished for it.

When they are done with her, they leave her at the foot of the bed, to crawl back to her chambers, not the royal bedroom of a baroness but the windowless cell deep beneath the castle, where the whispers of the ziggurat can further **** her mind.

She listens to her friends and family downstairs, laughing and cavorting, enjoying the taste of wine and sound of Scanlan's beautiful songs, as she descends the stairs, terrified of being discovered in her unclothed state. A tear runs down her face as she reaches her cell and she collapses on a pile of dirty straw, her face coated in the wetness of women she hates, her cunt aching from Sylas' strength.

She listens to the echoes of joy as she sobs herself to sleep.

***

As Vex's eyes glaze over with the vision you've prepared for her, you smile and turn away, gesturing for Keyleth to follow. The once proud member of Vox Machina glances over at her trusted ally, still half-naked, still dripping, now deep in a coma from which she will not wake. Keyleth sees Vex's cunt spasm as her mind conjures visions of further **** and notices the tears beginning to form in her wide, unblinking eyes.

Then she scurries after you, knowing there are far worse fates than submitting to your power.