The Institute of War was as much bureaucracy as it was a military organization, as much a clubhouse as it was a government, and sometime it resembled a fraternity more than an august body. That was inevitable with so many summoners living and there nearly year around, working, competing, fighting, and flirting in such proximity… but it also lead to opportunity. With rank came its privileges.
Cyn looked around the room… his new room… with self satisfaction, barely noticing the more than a dozen fellow summoners he had invited to share his celebration with him… all of them members of their own, secret “fraternity” within the Institute of war. Grandmaster. He was the 3rd summoner out of the forty to reach that lofty rank… only Eli and Rogim had managed to reach it before him. The newfound rank had plenty of perks, but this chamber was one of the biggest ones. His own training room.
Just last week, he had been like most of the rest of the summoners… needing to share the public rooms. Schedule time to practice and improve against a busy schedule of others trying to do the same. There was a reason summoners that reached these high ranks rarely slipped from them… they didn’t need to share. This room was his now. In fact, most summoners of this rank had the speed of their improvement accelerate, rocketing further and further past their myriad rivals below.
There was nothing like one of these training rooms in the world, save for actually stepping foot into one of the Summoning chambers. They could perfectly represent the Summoners Rift, down to the most minute details… except for any part you didn’t want them to. Summoner magic, champion magic, props and tools and weapons and armor… it could all be created. All fake, sure, but it didn’t matter… it was far and away the closest you could get to being in the rift without being in a match, and enabled a summoner to practice fine control of their abilities better than any other method ever devised.
And now this chamber was his. A wonderful present to mark the anniversary of his birth, and yet a third thing to celebrate.
“Another toast!” Rogim called, clinking his glass against the chair he had summoned into being. The “room” looked like a raised platform over the sprawling form of Summoner’s Rift far below, affording them all a tremendous view of the domain of their power. He poured more of the champagne into his glass, gesturing for the others to do the same. They all did, to varying levels of enthusiasm… celebrations like this were usually a bit of a bittersweet affair. In truth, while they shared one particular interest in how to use their power… all of them were rivals as well. Rogim and Eli were the only two who looked at his elevation with untainted celebration… for everyone else, he was one more barrier between them and the same exalted status now.
Fuck em. They’d get over it.
“To victory!” Rogim toasted, lifting his glass. A murmur of cheers followed, echoing the sentiment, and then everyone drank. “To Cyn, and to his elevation!”
“Here here,” one of the twins said… Cyn never could tell the bastards apart. It didn’t matter which. Both of them had been on his tail for years… but he had made it to Grandmaster first. “Just a shame that a party doesn’t have any favors, wouldn’t you say?”
A few others men nodded in agreement, and other grumbled. It was true enough. Since the weekend they had spent breaking in Ashe and Sejuani, the entirety of their “club” hadn’t been able to get together to take another girl. They couldn’t sacrifice their duties to have their fun… it was only their high positions that allowed them to get away with their cruel hobbies. If they were to shirk their duties, they would lose the very power they relied on to find unwilling fresh to sate themselves with. Sacrifices had to be made.
It didn’t mean they hadn’t gotten their dicks wet – the two Freljordian queens had been a common enough source of entertainment for small groups of five or six summoners who could get away from their duties, ocasionally together, occasionally seperate. Rogim had hosted a trio of parties for Orianna in the last four months… Cyn had even gone to one of them. He knew the twins had tormented a pair of female summoners, themselves twins, with the help of a few others. Sona had been visited a few times. Hell, Eli wasn’t even here right now… and no matter what he thought, no one thought it was a coincidence that his sudden pressing business was unrelated to Katarina’s abrupt absence from the League.
Still, none of them were here now.
“I wish Ashe wasn’t back in the Freljord,” one of the summoners bemoaned. “It would be good to break in the new space and give her a bit additional… training… wouldn’t you say?”
“Only if Sejuani is there too,” another said. “She always does so much of a better job when the boar cunt is there to push her on. She comes up with the most delightful ways the humiliate herself.”
Sephis… or was that Revis… chuckled. “We could always bring Samara in,” giving the name of one of the lower-ranked summoners they had on a ball and chain. “I bet you’d like slapping your cock between her tits.”
Revis… or was that Sephis… fuck it, he didn’t care – That one was Revis until he learned otherwise – mirrored his twin’s chuckle. “Of course, that would mean letting her know how many more of you all there are.”
“I can think of worse ideas,” one of the summoners admitted.
“But it won’t be necessary,” Cyn said softly, tapping his fingers on the arms of his chair. “I might have arranged for some company already.”
Everyone looked over at him in confusion… and he just smirked.
He was celebrating more than merely his elevation in rank… there was another kind of elevation in status that went with it, because he had managed to win the important series of matches on champions that he was far less familiar with. Cyn, for most of his career, had had a reputation as a specialist… of working almost exclusively with a single champion. There were plenty of high ranked summoners, even Master summoners, who worked like that… but not many Grandmasters. If he had elevated himself to a rank of Grandmaster using his specialty as a champion, he would have been one of the first to do so.
But he hadn’t, and for excellent reason.
For most of his career, Cyn had become an expert in the use of the Ice Witch, Lissandra. Finding downright shocking new ways to apply her strengths to the Fields of Justice, he had relied on her strength more than any other summoner of his rank, and her prestige had grown with his for years. Elevating himself to Grandmaster with her would have been a boon for her, as well.
Of course… he couldn’t do that. Part of the bargain they were using to control Ashe and Sejuani. As the two princesses competed for summoner control, part of the deal was that the summoners would full-heartedly throw their support behind whichever of them had their favor at the moment. It meant that his days of relying on Lissandra had come to an end… had forced him to expand his horizons… and to fairly impressive results, if he was being honest with himself. But now that he had…
Cyn smiled. Lissandra’s own prestige and influence in the League was beginning to be damaged. If her highest ranked summoner had abandoned her, and then proceeded to rank up to Grandmaster immediately afterward… all the sudden, the drop in her reputation could no longer be tolerated. So just earlier today, she had approached him to asked to meet after the days matches had concluded, to talk through the situation and see what could be done to repair her reputation and get her back under his control.
His control. The thought made him smirk. She certainly would be that, soon enough… this was his celebration. It was also a favor to the Ice Witch, however. He knew that none of them would be summoning her until she had been broken into the club… that was part of the arrangement they had that kept Ashe and Sejuani on their knees for them. She would only become popular again once she had become their whore. In the end, she would thank him, he felt confident… even if he had to fill her brains with so much cum she couldn’t think of anything else first to make it happen.
“You do?” Sephis… or at the very least, the other one, asked with a doubtful tone.
Cyn just smiled.
The name Lissandra meant nothing to her anymore, of course… not since the last people who had known the woman who had been born under that name had died ages ago… but it was still the name the beautiful woman walking down the hall let herself be known by. If any knew how ancient the name was, what she had sacrificed to save Runeterra, this League would bow before her… but it would also fear her. And more than anything, Lissandra couldn’t let that happen… not until she had completed her mission.
Still, the Ice Witch of the Freljord hadn’t dressed for appearance in a thousand years… but she did it now. Normally, she was protected by armor of True Ice, but today the Iceborn woman covered her body with only the bare minimum of the magical substance. Instead, she wore a white and crimson gown of exquisite beauty, the finest she could find to have delivered to her quarters. Lissandra rarely bothered to do anything with her appearance, but the last few months had chipped away at her impressions of how much she did or did not need to do. The latest incarnations of Avarosa and Serylda were growing in power, and her efforts to pit them against one another in war had been stymied… While they seemed to like each other even less with every passing day, their reliance on the League had kept them from active conflict and increased the relative power of both leaders. Each had grown more and more popular within the League. In seemed to her that beauty of the two women was the primary reason… both had taken to dressing far less conservatively in the months since their popularity had begun to grow, something that only the Iceborn could get away with in the frozen north… putting their body well on display.
Lissandra had no idea just how right she was… but she figured it was an incentive she could copy easily enough… so while she hadn’t bothered to make herself especially pretty in living memory, she had done so today. The dress fit her perfectly… which was to say, barely. Her breasts strained at the fabric enticingly… while she was in no danger of slipping out of the masterfully crafted thing, she certainly looked like she was. Lissandra was already tall for a woman or a man, gifted from her Iceborn heritage and the magic she had stolen from the primal gods long ago, but she stressed that further by having crafted some True Ice into tall stiletto heels, making her legs seem to go on forever. A lesser woman would have slipped or tottered, but not she… even a thousand years out of practice, she walked upon the true ice as easily as if it were made of sticky tar keeping her in place. She had even painted her nails and toes with the same crystal white frosted color that her dress was, with just enough metal in them that they sparkled in the light of every torch she passed. The sole concession to her usual look was the necessary helm of True Ice that covered half her face and buried her silver hair beneath it… and even that, she had stylized for the occasion into a spiked mask, more like the antlers of a great wild stag than her usual garb.
As she walked down the hallway, Lissandra looked practically like a living goddess. While walking in these ridiculous shoes took effort, she made it look like it did not, even with her feet almost completely vertical within the heels – and that was the important part. That it look effortless, like everything she did.
The long lived virtual goddess of the Freljord passed people in the hallways without a second glance, enjoying the way people stared before moving out of her way as quickly as possible. Beauty and fear… it was a combination that worked well for spiders, and a combination Lissandra herself greatly enjoyed. she had little doubt she would be able to use both on the newly minted Grandmaster summoner easily enough. It was annoying that even he appeared to be neglecting her… but she had no doubt she could reverse this tide. She had reversed the tide of the Watchers, and of the Void as well… compared to that, persuading a single summoner whom she had worked with so often to continue their mutually beneficial partnership should be nothing. A few promises easily kept, some cleavage, and some exposed leg, and she would be back on course… she needed to draw the reincarnations of her sisters into a conflict as quickly as possible, before they began to realize the truth of who and what they were.
This was in… the new demesne of the Grandmaster Cyn. She straightened her dress, considered, and then pulled it down slightly further… making it look like the purple nubs of her nipples were likely to pop out at any second and the entire tops of her breasts were exposed. Couldn’t hurt. Then she knocked on the door.
The door clicked. “Come in.”
When Lissandra opened the door, she had to stop herself from betraying surprise. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen one of the training rooms before… she had, many, many times. What she hadn’t seen was a group of so many summoners… thirteen, at a glance… gathered in an elegant lounge formed high above summoners lift before. Using the training chambers to do something like that was rather… extravagant.
As always, when she walked into one of these summoning chambers, she felt the vast majority of her power leech away, locked away by the magic of Runewords that only the Institute of War still had access to. It was the same magic that suffused the Summoner’s Rift… locking away her strength and mana, leaving her as weak as a fledgling mage. The magic was mirrored here, allowing them to practice under the same situation, at all levels of power. She understood it… but she still hated it. It always made her feel utterly helpless.
She heard the summoners whisper. “The Ice Witch,” a few murmured. “Lissandra,” whispered others. She heard a few “Champions” from smiling summoners to gave her small, respectful nods. She saw plenty of eyes unable to look away from her, however, and she smiled to see it. The outfit was having the desired effect. She hadn’t intended for her target for the night to be in such company, but after a moment of consideration it seemed even better this way. Most of these summoners were high ranked ones… and not one of them had summoned her for months. That stopped tonight… she could get through to most of them at once.
Cyn sat in a lounge chair by himself, and she strode over towards him, enjoying the way men moved out of her way the snowflakes fluttering against the wind of her passage. “You have not be a very good partner of late,” she said as she stood before him, watching as he sipped slowly at a glass of wine. Her voice was cold, regal… demanding. It the voice of the Ice Witch… a voice that terrified the Freljord into obedience, and had for a thousand years. “I was under the impression you and I had an accord.”
All around her, she could feel eyes on her. Staring at her. Undressing her. She liked the attention, but there was so much intensity to it…
Cyn looked up at her and gave her an odd smile. “Why don’t you sit down,” he said calmly. “Be my guest.”
Lissandra didn’t want to sit down… she wanted to keep glaring down at him. She towered over him, would have done so even if he was standing… but… she had to admit, she was tired. Had she been this tired before? The matches today had been strenuous, but not exceptionally so… still, there had been plenty enough that it wasn’t unbelievable she would be tired now that she had a moment to rest. Still, she didn’t want the summoners to see her as weak, so while she accepted the offer of a seat, she sank down delicately, regally.
Then, aware of every summoners eyes on her, she slowly lifted one long leg and crossed it over the other. As she did, the dress rode up her leg in the way she knew it would, exposing most of her thighs and making her legs seem a million miles long. The reactions were everything she could have hoped for. Soon, she would have them all eating out of the palm of her hand. This was almost too easy… no wonder Ashe and Sejuani were doing it. She slowly ran her tongue over her lips, enjoying the attention.
“You haven’t been living up to your side of our partnership recently,” Lissandra said imperiously, noticing as she spoke that her voice was a bit more tired than she thought. She put some added frost into her tone to cover for it. “We had a good thing going on for us both… but I notice you seem to be preferring the Winter’s Claw recently, or the Avarosan.” She shook her head. “That is unacceptable to me… but it should be unacceptable to you as well. Do you not realize what it is you are leaving behind?”
Bit by bit, Lissandra began to lay out of her arguments. The kind of wealth and power he could have if he used her more or less exclusively. She was arguing mostly to Cyn, but she made sure to pitch her arguments to the other summoners present as well. Increasingly, however, she was becoming sure that she needn’t bother. They weren’t so much listening to her as they were staring at her breasts, the way they swayed as she breathed, the way they pushed against her dress. She let one of her heels fall hallway off her foot, hanging it from the end of her foot and her toes as she considered. It appeared she might have overdone it… she wanted them wrapped around her finger, but if she wasn’t sure how easy it would be to make an agreement when they were drooling at the sight of her. The though made her want to smirk, but it just seemed like… too much effort. She really was tired.
“I don’t think so,” Cyn said, leaning back in his chair. “You see… We don’t really need any of those things.”
Lissandra’s attention snapped back to the summoner, shocked. “What?”
“Wealth… power… prestige… those all come from one place my lovely Lissandra,” Cyn said with a smirk. “Winning. Winning is the only thing that really matters. That is what brings the wealth, the power, the prestige. And, if you didn’t notice…” He swept his arms around him. “I appear to be doing just fine without you. Better, in fact. So why would I have any incentive to change now?”
One of the summoners was brushing her hand against her upper arm. She pulled it away lethargically, barely paying attention. “You could have so much more,” she protested. She tried to keep the exhaustion and concern out of her voice, keeping herself sounding regal and in control.
“Your arguments aren’t bad,” he admitted as the summoner began to caress her arm again and she appeared not to notice, too fixated on him. “But there is too much risk in that for me. I’ve already gotten everything I wanted without you. Now you are asking me to include you in my success.”
A summoner had his hand on her knee now, slowly rubbing it. She moved away again, but pathetically weakly… she didn’t even dislodge him, and didn’t have the time to think about it. What was he saying? This was impossible.
“You see,” he continued. “Ashe and Sejuani do… certain other things for us as well. Now, if you were willing to do likewise, I think we could find some kind of agreement…”
Just then, as hands began to slid further up her leg, she was distracted by the feel of something hot… and wet… against her neck. Turning, she saw one of the summoners had…
Had his COCK out and was stroking it as he looked down her dress from behind.
That was beyond the pale. She forced herself to stand up despite her tiredness. “What. The Hell. Do you think you are doing!” she hissed out coldly, turning to glare at the summoner stroking himself. “You seem to have mistaken me for one of the whores.”
Just then, she was grabbed from behind, hands grabbing at her breasts and using that grip to pull her against his muscled chest from behind. “Doesn’t look like a mistake to me,” the summoner said with laughter in his voice. “Whore.”
She grabbed at his wrists, meaning to pull him off her… but he was so strong. He just squeezed her breasts harder, refusing to move. “Agh!” she cried out. “Get off me, you bastard!” She tried to pull him off her, but she was just so exhausted…
No, she was Exhausted.
She finally recognized the sinking, enervating feeling. It wasn’t as severe as she was used to, but it was the same magic… summoner magic, stealing her strength and energy, making her slow and weak. Immediately she tried to call up her magic, entomb herself in ice and force the summoners away from her, but the power she quested after slid away from her like a well-oiled ball that she tried to grab at. The magic of this summoning chamber held her fast. “Get… off…” she groaned.
“Damn, her skin is soft,” one of the summoners said, one of the two that looked precisely the same, as she tried to kicked at him as he grabbed her legs. The “kick” had been more like a gentle raising of her leg. “And she’s not even cold. Ok Cyn, you were right. Credit where its due.”
“I’ll kill you for this,” she growled, putting as much ice in her tone as she could.
“You won’t do shit,” the twin said as ran his hands up her legs to beneath her dress, brushing uncomfortable close to the fabric covering her crotch… a bit of her anatomy that she hadn’t used since she had had natural eyes, more than a thousand years ago.
“Stop!” she commanded.
“Her tits are even bigger than Sejuani’s!” one of the other summoners exclaimed as he also put his hands on her barely-covered mounds.
“Get OFF!” she yelled as loudly as she could. It barely seemed to carry past her own lips as the Exhaust spell sank deeper and deeper into her muscles.
Then Cyn was standing in front of her. “I’m glad you’ve come around,” he said with a smile, one hand grinding into her right breast before reaching up, grabbing onto the hem of her bust and beginning to pull it gently down on one side. “You see, with Sejuani and Ashe insisting on shoving their tits in my face, there was nothing I could do. They just made such a good argument for supporting their claim on the Freljord. But now…” Her nipple came exposed, already hard as a diamond the purple nub of flesh a contrast against her pale, pristine skin. “Now that my favorite girl is here, dressed like a goddess… well, it’s much easier to see things from your point of view. You can count on me.” He learned forward and kissed her.
Lissandra hadn’t felt lips on hers in a thousand years. He smashed his mouth forcefully against hers, grinding into it, driving her against the summoner behind him… and it enraged her, as much as her words about her coming around did. These… fucking… assholes!
She bit him.
Cyn pulled back sharply, hand going to his lip where Lissandra had closed her mouth, pinching his lip between her teeth. Exhausted, she hadn’t been able to bite especially hard… but she could still seen a tiny trickle of blood from his lip.
One of the other summoners saw it too. “Not so cooperative then?” One of them… another Grandmaster named Rogim, said with a knowing look.
A dozen hands on her held her abruptly still despite her struggled, no less than four hands molesting her exposed breast and rolling her nipple in their hands. “I said get OFF me,” she commanded, staring right at Cyn. “Did you think I was joking?”
“I thought you were smart,” he said quietly. His voice was nearly as cold as hers now. “Most of the girls we bring… we quickly make them see that cooperation is the best course of action. Ashe and Sejuani… they were like that. They were quite cooperative… they understood that there was more to be gained by being a little bit of a whore than there was by being a bitch. Getting them to open their legs wasn’t so hard.”
“That’s not me,” Lissandra spat. “So let GO of me!”
“No, you’re the other kind. You aren’t going to cooperate,” he said. Then he slapped her across the face, viciously. His bloody finger left a small mark on her cheek before he lowered the hand to grab her by the throat. “So we’ll just have to break you. I think I prefer it this way anyway. By the end, there might not be much left of you, Lissandra… but rest assured… you wanted to return to the rift under my control? You got your wish, Ice Bitch.”
As he squeezed her throat, she felt a flood of power swirling around her. It took her a second to recognize the type of magic… teleportation. He was taking her elsewhere.
“By the time I’m done with you,” Cyn promised coldly, “you’ll understand your place.” Then Lissandra vanished from the raised lounge that the summoners had created for their relaxation, shifted elsewhere in the faux summoner’s rift. A second later, the summoners began to wink out as well, most of them leaving their robes behind to drift down to the ground as they teleported after Lissandra, following her down into the training room proper one by one with smiles on their faces…
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