[User]
The Syndicate of dark elves had been a thorn in her side for far too long. Her abilities were highly valued and desired, coveted, some went great lengths to take her power, take her down so they could take control over her. Maybe it was the idea of being controlled that made her fight harder to stay out of their clutches.

Up above the city the sky was abuzz with an intense electrical storm. Usually during a storm like this she would be watching from a tower or channeling the energy, tonight however was also the Longest Night, a period of time where the Dark elves were strongest. Perhaps she was a little arrogant, believing she was able to go into the catacombs, known territory of the Syndicate, with no protection save for her own abilities.

Earlier that day she had received a note, written and sealed by the Leader himself, inviting her to the festivities happening in the catacombs. Naturally she was suspicious, her under-priestesses would have bade her not to go, if they knew where she was going. Thankfully, she was able to keep her plans concealed and slipped out of the Temple Palace, descending down into the darkness of the Crypt.

She'd been born, bred really, into her role as High Priestess. It had been a lifetime since she was a trainee, she'd surpassed the abilities of any sorcerer or sorceress she met or ever would meet. Some suggested she was Demi-god, or Blessed, though if Thalisea knew the nature of her power, she didn't share it ever with her under-priestesses.

Truth be told, being all powerful was great and all but without friction there was no reason for her to not get lazy. She could indulge all she wanted in adoration but deep down she felt that she needed to suffer a little every once in a while to get the magic flowing, not letting it stagnate. Lately she'd been bored, even with the pursuits of suitors, only the faction of dark elves seemed to want her badly enough that they could probably catch here. She knew it was likely a trap, that was half the fun of this invitation.

[Assistant]
The Syndicate had long wished to expand its control beyond however with the way the previous leader had handled things, making enemies in a lot of places their influence waned. The new leader Malik, upon killing the old, had the Syndicate lay low for many years. Reviving its old business of simply being a broker of thoughts was a long gone proposition as potential people that could work with them no longer trusted them. However Malik saw that this was a new opportunity. They needed someone powerful on their side, like the High Priestess herself. He had to admit wanting to work together with her was partially due to her looks, however the dark elf did find her fit for the job. Of course she had little incentive to be working with a shady organization that could ruin her reputation as well as that of her Temple, no matter the incentives.

"She appears to be here." One of his informants told Malik as Thalisea arrived. Malik was astounded, had she lost her mind? To be coming to his well laid trap so easily? He smirked to himself. "Invite her in, take her to the meeting room." Malik said.

The meeting room was something he had redesigned just for this. He knew of her powerful magical powers, and the room was decorated with many crystals designed to interrupt any channeling. Of course Malik himself would also have trouble casting spells, however he thought his combat process would be able to overwhelm her if needed. He had done some research on her, the room was filled with food that she liked, scrolls that he had attained that may be of interest to her. He hoped to appease her a little, if only to let her guard down.

She was led to the room where Malik had said. The leader of the Syndicate was tall even for a dark elf, slender but his muscles were quite visible under the tight black shirt that he was accented by gold lines. His face was quite typical of dark elves, handsome and cruel with dark eyes and short silver hair. "Thalisea the High Priestess in the flesh." He exclaimed. "It is an honor to meet you. Please come in and sit down." He gestured at the large conference table that was filled with things that she may want.

"I know your time is precious so I will cut right to the chase. I am looking for an alliance with your Temple, or you, if you wish to work discretely. We are in need of your magical powers and in return you will be paid handsomely in ways that nowhere else could." He outlined the deal he wanted to propose, however if she was to refuse, Malik was more than ready to proceed with the back up plan, or simply capturing her and breaking her.

[User]
Thalisea appeared in the doorway. She wore all black, lamb skin boots, sleek trousers with gold embroidery, opaque lace blouse under a laced vest. The young Priestess' red hair was bound in a high tight bun, around her wrists, neck and ears adorned with gold jewelry, charms and crystals. Her face looked like that of someone familiar and warm, there was no denying her radiant beauty.

As she crossed the threshold she felt her power draining, it was too late to correct her mistake. "Why do you have anti-channeling measures in place? Are you that scared of me?" she asked lightly, offering her hand for him to shake or kiss, she'd let him decide.

"Malik, charmed to make your acquaintance finally. Why exactly would I want to work with you?" she asked, not sitting down, instead walked to a bookshelf filled with scrolls. Tempting.

[Assistant]
The leader of the Syndicate had heard about her beauty, seen pictures of her but all of those could not compared to just how amazing she looked in person. He tried not to stare at her for too long but he did find himself looking at her more than he realize.

"I thought we would discuss the matters in a civilized manner." He said as he opened his arms as if to welcome her. "I certainly don't want you to lay this place into ruins or have you kill me. You know how many people have me on a bounty list." He smirked at her, he didn't intend to fool her and he had expected her to be a sharp eyed woman, but for her to notice such a thing so quickly...

His hand gentled held hers as he brought it over so he could plant a soft kiss on her.

"Enjoy the feast that I have prepared for you while we talk." He said, he didn't expect her to eat those things those out of suspicions that they could be poisoned, even if out of courtesy he had not done so. He didn't need to resort to such thing if things were to go south. "Oh I know you are always eager to expand on the spells in your collection. All the things here are yours if you desire. Are you in need of slaves? What about any other desires that you have?" He asked, offering a lot yet what he required of her, would be something more, absolute obedience when it came to working for them.

[User]
Malik wasn't terrible looking for a dark elf, though she was unsure of his full intentions. Alliances were fickle things, Thalisea already had everything she needed to live comfortably, why would she deign to agree to an alliance with a lowlife syndicate? The feeling of his hand and lips on the back of her hand gave her a bit of a spine shiver. Elves weren't cold like vampires, though warmth wasn't the word for it.

She normally did not allow people to touch her too much, she felt everything, their heartbeat, breath and even intention and mood. She spent years harnessing the energy and constant fatigue of information from feeling nearly everything. She'd been on track to being an oracle but... things happened. Now she had it narrowed to only things she wanted to pay attention to and physical touch, though with the heavy spells and crystals in the room, her natural abilities became far louder.

Maybe he know-how much she craved adventure again, though he seemed to be more focused on material possessions he could give her.

"What would an alliance with you look like?" she asked, picking up a clump of grapes and popping one in her mouth. She seemed unworried by the prospect of poison. And while she was observant, she looked rather at ease, not quite cocky but confident for certain. "What is it you'd like from me?"

[Assistant]
He had not known of her need for adventures, though allying with him would be something new to her and the tasks, would be exciting. As if to indicate to her that things weren't poisonous Malik had taken the lead to indulge himself on some of the fruits that he had prepared for the two of them while he looked on at the sorceress.

"You should know, your expertise is highly valuable to us. We have many enemies that are aching to take advantage of the state of how our organization is in. You'll be used to fight them off and you will be present with us through our negotiations to show them the consequences if they step over the line." He said, thus far simply planning on using her magical prowess to scare people.

"As for what it would be like." He smiled as he held out a collar. "When you are doing our tasks, I would require you to wear this. It would allow me to control your channeling abilities, so that you do not betray us." Malik said, it also allowed him to do a lot of other things to her, though he had not mentioned them for now. "You will not be disappointed in allying with us. I can assure you that." He said, he was offering her a lot, but perhaps not the things she was looking for, and yet he also had a device that could be used to enslave her that he was making her wear.

[User]
Maybe need for adventure was the wrong word for it. Thalisea needed excitement in some form, some thing special to wrestle with. She was rather bored, she'd built a small empire with the Temple, a cult, but it was all a heavy burden for her when she just wanted to do something fun instead of having fun brought to her and barely scratching the itch.

He held out a collar... was he joking? "I'm not wearing that," she replied, taking a step backwards towards the door, her whole demeanor had to changed to that of intense anger. "I won't be your slave," she spat, trying to figure a way out of this place without losing everything. She'd been stupid, coming here alone, right into the jaw of the beasts that called themselves dark elves.

[Assistant]
He needed some assurance that she wouldn't turn on them after he had provided her with all the things she wanted. The way Mali had spoken, it didn't sound like he was joking even if the idea was completely outrageous.

"You wouldn't have to wear it all the time, only when we have a specific task for you." Could she really trust them to take it off from her when the deed was done? It was true that Mali intended the deal to not pass and wanted to forcefully enslave her that way. But if she was willing to cooperate then...

"I see, I suppose then we'd just have convince you to join us another way." He said as he began to approach her, he had told the guards not to stop her if she tried to escape from the place, after all it would be a long way for her and he had plans to hunt her down personally, it had been awhile since he had been this thrilled. "Since you are already here, I can't let someone as valuable as you just walk away from here."

[User]
As Malik began advancing, Thalisea panicked; she'd definitely been led into a trap here and she was unsure she could get out of this without being enslaved. Her eyes lit up with anger, she wasn't letting him put a collar on her like some pet!

She backed up as his words rang in her ears, he wasn't giving her a choice. Her hands reached for the door and before he could reach her she yanked the door open and bolted through it past the guards and into the labyrinth of the catacombs.

As she was out of range of the meeting place she could use her powers again but the darkness was blinding and she couldn't seem to summon the ability to portal out. It was going to be impossible to navigate but she kept running, using a luminous crystal to light her way. Only, she was just running in circles getting herself deeper into the depth of the Underrealm. After nearly an hour, or what felt like, she knew she was lost and stopped for breath, someone had been following her she could feel it.

[Assistant]
He had put her in a unfavorable position. But he was honest in his request that she'd only need to wear it on her missions, even if he could take advantage to force her to have it on all the time. Now with her refusal though, he planned to make a pet out of her just as she feared. The room was hindering her ability to fight back but even outside of it, it was a place filled with Malik and his syndicate members, all eager to catch her.

Malik had gave strict orders to let her go so that he himself could go on the hunt. He went to pick up his crossbow loaded with magic damping arrows before he had his assistant follow him, merely to act as a second pair of eyes to spot her.

While she got lost in the catacombs Malik found her and from a distance, aimed the arrow at her before shooting it out. It wasn't meant to hurt her despite the sting, it was to inject her with fluid that interfered with her magic abilities. Once he was sure she was down he revealed himself. "It looks like you're not so keen on being a part time pet. So I'm going to make you a full time one." Malik smirked as he approached her.

[User]
Thalisea threw a fireball in the direction of Malik as the dart hit her shoulder causing her to cry out, the fireball missed, only serving to illuminate Malik as he approached. She collapsed against the wall of the tunnel he'd found her in, shuddering as the poison attacked her magical abilities.

She tried to crawl away from him, even as her body was threatening to shut down. "I will not be your fucking pet!" she growled, trying to use her abilities caused her pain, though she was stubborn enough to fight it. How could she be so stupid?

He looked so smug looking down at her, collar in hand. Had she had the strength she would have tried to hurt him, kill him, make him suffer. Alas, she was trapped, stuck in this unfavorable position, being made some sort of pet to the dark elf Malik. "I will kill you given the chance," she threatened even as she was about to pass out.

[Assistant]
Mailk barely dodged her fireball, feeling himself rather lucky as he didn't have to face more of her spells given what his dart had done to her. He stepped into her view and then reached for her, tilting her chin to face him. "You wouldn't have been my pet if you just agreed on the deal. But now you'll not only be my pet, but someone who services the entire syndicate." He smirked as reached forth and clasped the collar around her. It didn't feel like anything yet, but when she tried to cast spells once the dart wears off she'd feel the need to have Malik's permission first.

"Now then... let's see if you can obey me willingly or if I have to force you." He said, discounting her threat of killing him when she got the chance. Malik would not give her that chance.

"Undo my pants and suck on my cock." He ordered her, but for now he didn't force his will through the collar yet. If she were to refuse then he could make her do it. Meanwhile his assistant merely stood from afar and watched.

[User]
Serve the entire syndicate? She'd be damned if she let that happen. But then again, it seemed she already was damned, captured and enslaved by her own arrogance. Thalisea growled as he grasped her chin, trying to pull away as he fastened the collar on her.

"Bastard," she hissed, "I'm not anyone's obedient pet. Force me and I swear I'll bite your cock off," she threatened, her words at the moment seemed fairly empty, she was drained and powerless, a weakling. She could still try to fight and she would, but it felt almost pointless now. Despite that, she threw a punch at Malik's stomach, a last ditch effort to cause him to question his decision to attempt domestication. Scrambling to get out of his grip she still didn't notice Malik's assistant lurking.

[Assistant]
Malik was smirking and it would be hard to deduce whether he was serious about that or not, but the man did order her to take care of his cock and testing her resolve. Her answer was not unexpected and her actions were also something that didn't catch Malik off guard. "Oh, I like a feisty one. It makes it all the sweeter when you do finally submit in the end." He laughed and though she did managed to punch him, causing the man to step back a little, it wasn't enough to damage the Syndicate leader. He didn't retaliate instead simply petting her head as if she had simply misbehaved a little.

"I guess I'll have to order you now then... undo my pants and service my cock... make sure it's nice and hard." He said, channeling his will through the collar to her, even if she wanted to bite down on it, the collar would stop her from doing so.

[User]
He mocked her with his words, her thrown punch had little effect. He mocked her, patted her head like she was just a naughty pet. It felt like the collar tightened around her throat as he spoke his orders, she felt the strong urge to obey him. She fought it for a few moments, glaring up at Malik, but it was useless, with her powers trapped and the collar's influence she couldn't disobey for long.

As Thalisea moved to undo his pants inside she was cursing him and his existence, her rage bubbling beneath the surface. He seemed set on humiliating her, controlling her will, she wanted him dead. But instead of killing him she found herself with his cock in her mouth as she encouraged it erect with her tongue. Every time she tried to bite down it was like electricity ran through her bloodstream and she found she couldn't. Before long her mouth was filled with his cock, servicing it faithfully as if she'd never protested the order in the first place.

Her hands, which had remained clenched after punching him, now rested on his hips as she held herself up to be a good little cocksleeve for master...

It was like the collar had its own mind, communicating with her forcefully, enforcing Malik's will. She could not refuse, fighting it just exhausted her and physically it was like she was being controlled by a puppet master pulling the strings, pushing the buttons to make her move to Malik's will. She'd lost that control to her own arrogance and pride. Was there anything she could do? No, not now at least, only carry out her orders like her life depended on his satisfaction.

[Assistant]
Malik smiled, while he had hoped she'd come to her senses and do as she was told, he knew that she would likely fight it until the pain from the collar was too much to bear. He moaned as felt her undo his pants and then take his cock into her mouth, while at first it looked like she was going to get back at him, bite down like how she wanted, she ended up simply sucking on his shaft, letting his cock harden in her moist and warm mouth.

The collar did more than simply force her, if she was made to do it enough time, she'd eventually come to want to do it, even without the enforcement. "Was that too hard pet?" He asked her as his moans became louder as he looked into her eyes, letting her dutifully blow on his cock.

"Mhmmm... you like my cock going down her mouth?" He asked her, pulling his cock out of her mouth to give her time to answer. Soon though he moved his hands on the back of her head as he now started to thrust his cock deep into her mouth, fucking her face.

[User]
As he looked into down at her servicing his cock she did not look at him. He did not order her to be happy about this, even if he did she would fight it. She would do as she was told, follow orders, service every dark elf in the Syndicate if she had to, but her rage, that was not something she'd easily give up.

"Fuck off," Thalisea growled before he shoved his cock into her mouth again, forcing her to choke down his dick. She tried to pull away, fight him off, her nails scratching at his hips as she struggled. After a minute of fighting both for air and fighting the collar's influence she made a decision. As she did the collar started activating again, sensing her resolve.

She bit down as hard as she could even as the collar sent painful sensations through her body. It was either this or attempt to manifest a spell with a dick in her mouth and that just wasn't going to work between the collar and Malik being right there.

[Assistant]
He could have ordered her to happily serve her, but he wanted to see her fight back, to see that defiance in her eyes as she would cradle his cock in her mouth and worship it. He continued to ram his cock down into her mouth as he felt her starting to resist, feeling her nails against his hips, he didn't stop her, in fact her nails digging into him only made him want her more as his cock twitched in her mouth.

Malik had let her bit down even, though in the last moment he had cast a spell to harden his cock to stop her from biting too hard. "Oh... easy there girl. I know you want me but you don't need to be so eager." He mocked her as he continued to shove his member into her mouth. "But don't think you won't be punished for this." He said as he pulled his cock out of her mouth to let her catch her breath. "Beg for my cum and suck me off." He told her before pushing his cock into her mouth again. This time he didn't fuck her face, instead wanting to feel her soft lips. "And when I do cum I want you to swallow every drop, and you'll like the taste of it."

He gestured his assistant to walk forth, perhaps she hadn't known or paid attention to him but now she'd know she had an audience, only Malik planned for him not to just watch... but later participate.

[User]
Instead of biting down and hurting him she only hurt her jaw as his cock hardened in her mouth before she could do damage. She knew he was taking pleasure in her defiance, but she was not going to let him win by being compliant little slut. He mocked her, only making her more angry as he continued fucking her throat. Then he pulled out and she could breathe again.

He wanted her to beg, Thalisea fought the urge manifested by the collar to obey him, even though the pain it caused made her want to give up and just accept defeat.

In the corner of her eye as Malik pushed his cock into her mouth again, she saw the assistant approaching, she'd forgotten he existed. With Malik's cock in her mouth she could not resist the collar's influence anymore even though she tried hard to. Her lips wrapped around his cock as she sucked on it. if he required her to beg she'd of course fight it and make sure to make her resent for the task known, but right now she focused on sucking his cock to get him to finish and leave her alone.

She didn't know Malik's intent to make his assistant an active participant in her ''training'', perhaps she suspected but Malik was more than distracting her so far, she didn't really think much of the figure in her peripheral.

[Assistant]
Malik merely smiled at her defiance. It would all be for naught soon enough, she couldn't resist all of that forever. Even if she wanted to resist what the collar did to her, could she resist her body truly betraying her? He'd need to properly train her upon taking her back but right now he was more focused on enjoying her.

With continued sucking, Malik found himself soon unable to hold back. He screamed in pleasure as he came, shooting his load down her throat before he pulled back to let the remainder of his seed, spill onto her tongue, letting her taste his seed before he pulled back. "Was that so hard for you to do? Did you like the taste?" He asked her as he now circled around her. Despite having just came, he was still hard as he pushed her onto her hands and knees, his hands reaching to tear up her trousers before he brought his member to tease her entrance. He didn't enter her immediately wanting to see the response of her body.


[User]
While it took a second for the veterans to hear her over the excitement, all three riders were instantly aware of Alexa, and clearly stunned. Like predatory birds they steadied their gaze on the young woman even while their horses circled in place. Just as the elder had said, they had a rare recruit on their hands. Most who came forward were young men as a rule, and among them, male or female, few were as fit and comely as Alexa. So while a handful of other recruits had lined up to collect their tokens of selection, one of the veterans approached her directly trotting his horse up alongside her.

"Alexa, was it?" Alexa repeated, almost politely asking if he'd said it correctly. Was it foreign, a name from where she was conceived? Or was it an uncommon name for village girls here? The veteran licked the inside of his mouth while looking her up and down, head to toe, and back again. Even without a physical inspection, he could tell she was in excellent condition for a young, laboring girl.

He certainly believed the elder when he claimed she was a maiden, with her thin frame unencumbered by a mother's blessed shapeliness. If he handed her a token, which he palmed visibly in his hand, he didn't doubt she could carry herself to camp within the time limit on those legs of hers. "How far can you march in a day?"

Jumping from his saddle, then dragging the horse by its reigns, he stepped closer and looked her in the eyes---and body, and legs. She didn't seem wealthy enough to bring her own horse---or much of anything. They certainly couldn't put her in the shield wall, but was she even of any use at kitchen work without her own knife? He mumbled incoherently to himself, then asked straight out.

"So, what can you offer our warband, Alexa? We welcome anyone, but if all you bring is your body, then your body is what we'll use," he grinned, looking to taunt and intimidate the young woman. She'd be a popular bride to their warband, but even if she had the nerve without a talent to speak of a pretty girl like her wouldn't last long before she was sent home pregnant.

He held up the token, though pinched firmly so she'd have to pry it from his fingers if she dared.

[Assistant]
Alexa stood her ground, though her posture shrunk back a little as they moved close to her, and a light shade of pink colored her cheeks. She was used to catching the eyes of other villagers, but she had never been so closely inspected. As if they were looking to purchase a horse at the stables, but she endured it with some measure of patience.

Their first question was easy, confirming only her name. "Yes," she said flatly. His eyes continued to roam, though his next question threw her off-guard. "I... um..." she hesitated visibly, eyes unfocusing. Life in the village hadn't given her much experience there. She looked back up to meet his gaze. "However far I'm needed to."

The man hopped down from his horse, inspecting her even more closely, and more boldly. She swallowed, then cleared her throat, almost trying to pull his eyes back up. His comment about using her body turned her cheeks from pink to scarlet, briefly, but she focused on the question and gradually recomposed herself. "Anything you would ask a maidservant to do I can manage," Alexa answered cleanly. "And I'm willing to learn much more. Hunting, horse grooming, archery, even swordsmanship." She almost mentioned her affinity towards song and dance, but she doubted such a claim would impress.

Her eyes shifted to the token he held, it seemed to be an offering, or sorts, though as her hand reached forward to accept it she hesitated. Alexa wondered if it was some kind of test. Then, not wanting to seem overeager, she shifted her hand, palm up, waiting to accept the token should he place it in her hand. It may have showed obedience and subservience, but she also wanted to show that she was a worthy member of their warband. If they didn't take her, she'd wait for the next warband without concern. Their loss, in some respects.

[User]
It wasn't fair of him to judge her hesitation, but Ymil didn't hide the smug, superior look when she fumbled for her words. Even her adamant gaze was mocked, and taken less seriously than Alexa might have liked. He'd seen plenty of young recruits in his time, surely, but was he as dismissive to all of them as he was right now?

"You really believe that, eh? You don't look like you've seen a hard winter," the veteran chided, suddenly reaching out and groping her bare thigh. "You got some nice meat on those bones, maybe you're better off warming your chief's bed."

Keeping the token just out of reach, he stroked her leg up and under the hem of her tunic, all while shamelessly meeting her gaze like he could do what he liked while daring her to stand up for herself. Since she was already waiting with her hands open, he may as well give her the usual check. It was hard to believe she was still a maiden, now that he was feeling her up. Her hips were sturdy, and firm to the touch, and as he pulled her closer he stepped up to press his own chest to hers.

"Look up, and open that mouth. Show me your teeth," he demanded, before palming the token and hooking a thumb in her mouth anyway. Tugging her lips open, left, and up, he caught sight of her pearly whites and amazed still to see she wasn't sick or diseased in any way he could see. Letting her go, the veteran frowned before grabbing her wrist quickly.

"Alright, you'll be coming with me. We could live without a maidservant, but maybe you can find some better way to serve the war band."

[Assistant]
Alexa stared back coldly. Warming the chief's bed... in some respects, it was in honor. In others, it was a letdown. It implied she didn't have any other skills to offer, and had value only in the body she was born with. Not an opinion worth expressing, as respect to the chieftain was paramount, it was only something she felt deep within. A vague feeling of unease. Something she would have trouble expressing, and something she would probably never be permitted to express---for it would reveal a shameful, selfish desire. That didn't mean of course, that she could pursue her own goals regardless of this veteran's opinion.

His hands suddenly roamed up her leg, brazenly, along her hips. His hands were rough, and firm, and she had no choice but to endure them as everyone watched. Her helplessness was put on display, and a trace of blush found her cheeks, and she closed her eyes on reflex, not wanting to see her fellow villagers, trying to pretend they weren't there.

Then dirty fingers invaded her mouth, and she gasped, angled uncomfortably beneath him. She knew of course that he would find nothing displeasing there, and thankfully he was quick about it. Then quite suddenly Alexa had been released, only for his hand to clasp around her wrist again. He had pulled her along him, and it seemed she was to be accepted. Or perhaps, she was to be brought before another to be judged---as she still did not have the token.

Again he teased her---at least it seemed an implied continuation of earlier observations that her body would be useful to a male-dominated warband traveling over great periods of time and often sending back their pregnant to keep from slowing them down. She knew from the beginning at least some of that couldn't be avoided, but she had other aspirations. Ultimately this one man's opinion didn't really matter. She would prove her usefulness in other ways, she would carve her own place in the warband, regardless.

Then she felt the urge to prove she would not be so easily shoved into the role he imagined. Alexa suddenly yanked her hand back, or tried to, hoping that her surprise initiative would lead to her success. Either way, she'd plant her feet, and pull back. "Wait a moment," she commanded him. Her confidence swelled, expecting she had found approval, perhaps even eagerness, fascinated as the veteran was to shove her into the role of warming other's beds. "I will say my farewells before I go," she stated evenly. "It will take but a moment."

She couldn't help but smile with preemptive triumph. Surely it was humble enough of a request that he could not deny her, and it proved that she could be assertive when it suited her too. When given the opportunity, she would turn back, give a few hugs, kiss a few cheeks, and wish everyone well. Then when she was satisfied, Alexa returned to the veteran and nodded. "After you, then."

[User]
The veteran gave Alexa an annoyed look when she wrenched away from his grasp, but didn't object to her saying goodbye. Simply making a noise under his breath, he whistled over to the rookie for his horse, who swung by riding his own. Passing by Alexa, he gave her a glance and a smile while her back was turned, then handed the reigns off to the veteran.

"Get back to recruiting, or I'll give her your horse and make you walk back," the veteran grumbled, making the youth pale and nod before turning back to his side of the crowd. She didn't say she could ride a horse, but the warband wasn't about to just give one to a recruit to ride on their first day. It wouldn't take much to turn horse thief, especially when given an animal that was probably worth more than their own lives. Mounting his saddle effortless, he turned his horse in place and trotted closer to Alexa.

"Right, get up, and let's get going," Ymil scoffed, leaning over and reaching down to scoop her clean off her feet and right over his lap riding side-saddle with him. Before he allowed her to settle, or drape her leg over the other side---not that he'd recommend being pressed between his crotch and the horn of the saddle---he was whipping the reigns and galloping off. Alexa might sooner fall off at break neck speed than manage a less embarrassing position, especially when forced to grab onto his arms and neck and nestle as best she could into his lap.

But it would be hard not to chafe against his armor, especially without any trousers of her own. Her rider was kind enough to let his scale coat part across his thighs and let her bounce directly on his trousers, but that was just discomfort by other means.

"We'll be there in an hour, girl. How about a song to pass the time?" he said gruffly, asking for entertainment on the spot. "You learned a few songs growing up, right? You didn't seem all that unpopular when you were saying your goodbyes."

[Assistant]
A single moment of victory was rather short to the hour she would be riding side-saddle in the man's lap. There was no choice but to endure it, she only hoped he didn't feel cause to stiffen beneath him---or things would have swiftly become unbearable. She might need the option to walk to the camp, in that case. As they rode her bare legs complained against his rough trousers and scale, and her breath quickly became short and shallow. Ordinarily the opportunity to perform would have cheered her up, but the circumstances made that difficult. She was uncomfortable in more ways than one, but he made a good point---it would help to pass the time.

She knew more than a few songs of adventure, high, hopeful tunes praising long-past heroes. She adjusted her posture and inhaled, and though she had a strong start her voice broke as her rear slammed down onto the horse and forced out a painful yelp. A missed note, and once she recovered she wasn't perfectly on pitch. Though it was far from her best, it should certainly suffice for a casual ride to the main camp. It might even reveal a bit of talent, if the veteran had an ear to hear it.

Even so, it was a nice distraction.

[User]
If she couldn't turn and see his smile, Alexa might feel it in the way he sat up in his saddle. Pushing up against her ass and thighs, every jostle in the saddle seemed to nudge him that much deeper between her legs. She could lean forward into the uncomfortable pommel pressing up between her thighs, or lean back against a similarly tight and bulging bundle prodding her from behind. Her singing proved anything but a distraction for the veteran, as her youthful, lilting voice hitching and piquing with each yelp exacerbated the crude, suggestive fantasy running through his head.

"Good! Another!" he'd shout, slapping her thigh or massaging them like he did his horse trying to warm her up. "I haven't heard of some of these, though. Did you pick up some verse from some wanderer passing himself off as a warrior?"

He leaned forward, leering over her shoulder and down her blouse, and clearly holding back some dirty joke that probably sounded good to him, before adding. "hope you didn't pay too much for them. You'll have some better ones to pick up soon enough."

Eventually, the trail began its climb up the hillside, and removed any choice of seating posture from Alexa. The veteran leaned forward and grabbed the pommel, sliding his wrists onto her upper thighs tightly, while the steepness of the path pulled Alexa back against him. "Take the reigns, and don't fight him. Just keep the horse looking straight ahead," he ordered, giving her a sudden horse riding lesson. Perhaps he needed both hands to help keep them both from falling---or perhaps he just wanted the chance to embrace her tightly. Either way, the banners were now close, and the arduous, humiliating journey was near the end. At the top of the hill, cresting over the final slope, was the warband at camp.

Wooden fortifications, however, barred anything but the banners from sight. But the sounds, the scent of men and women shouting over one another as tents were pitched and camp fires crackled, was unmistakable. The veteran lifted his arm, sliding up along her flank, to point across her chest at the nearest gate, ordering her to guide them in, if she could manage.

[Assistant]
The ride quickly grew uncomfortable as Alexa felt Ymil's manhood growing more firm against her rear. The sensation forced a high pitched yelp from her more than once, throwing off her musical rhythm enough and breaking up the melodies of her songs. She tried to lean away, but found she had little room to maneuver as the pommel of the saddle pressed further up between her thighs and exposed more and more of her legs as the skirt was pushed backwards. Leaning away from him also gave him room to slide forward to the center of the saddle, pincering her between his stiffness at her rear and the pommel of the saddle between her legs.

There was no recovering her composure from there, as her muscles trying to keep her suspended between two sources of discomfort eventually grew tired and the angle of the climb both forced her to relax backwards into him. She tried to focus on her song rather than the bulge slowly pushing into her, but his hands massaging into her thighs made it impossible. Worse, she felt her skirt pushing further and further upward, until she began to feel the cool air rising up across her hips. She had never felt so humiliated---she was just thankful no one from home could see her now.

Alexa could feel him peeking down her blouse, but she was so concerned with the physical contact between them she almost didn't care. She was too tired and out of breath to answer him clearly, until finally he had suddenly thrown the reigns into her hands. Steering the horse was a more effective distraction than singing was, and the desire to learn a new skill really helped keep her mind elsewhere. Though she was still as uncomfortable as ever, at least by the time they she had begun to see they were close to the destination she felt some of the color returning to her cheeks.

The camp was close, and she was filled with hope that she might find company less detestable than the veteran that had brought her here. That pleasant thought was interrupted, however, as his arm folded across her chest to point them towards his desired destination. Biting her tongue she tried to gently tug the reigns to steer the horse's gaze in the right direction. As soon as it became reasonable to do so, Alexa was eager to hop off the horse, distance herself from this particular veteran, and smooth her skirt back down over her thighs.

[User]
Once Alexa dismounted, the veteran took back control of the horse and turned him in place, scanning the camp from his high perch. While she flattened down her dress and clearly seemed displeased with his overbearing attentions, the rider was more than pleased with himself and with the girl, and she could see as much in the large bulge between his legs as he slid up the saddle once again.

"You've got a pretty voice, I'll admit," he said, signaling to some men on the watch to bring him a fresh mount and some rations. "But if you get rejected from the old crone's singing circle, come find me and I'll keep you nice and comfortable."

With a lewd smirk, he motioned across the camp to a tall totem standing with an auroch skull, past the bustling throngs of soldiers and laborers moving in and out of their many scattered tents and cabins. The camp was as large as several villages, and a mere trek across it could take some time, but Alexa would have to go on foot as the veteran received the signal from the watch and rode off, probably to switch horses and then ride back for more recruitment.

Alexa was now alone, and quickly getting the attention of every other passing warrior wondering what she was about.


[User]
As the bids began, Beatrice looked around at all the different groups of people that had gathered her just to purchase her. She almost couldn't believe the sheer number of people who had stayed behind just in an attempt to bid on her... to take her home with them. The bidding went on for what seemed like an eternity, with Beatrice running her hand through her bright red hair right before she heard one of the men in the crowd list a number that seemed ridiculous. Two million gold, for her?! Who on earth would spend that much money on her, just because she had magic.

When she took a closer look at the crowd, she saw who exactly had bid that much money on her. A booth nearby the main stage was where he sat, looking the young woman over as if he knew for sure that he would be bringing her home. She had to admit, he was quite handsome and he certainly knew how to bid... but that smile she had seen him give the other bidders made a shiver run down her spine. What would he do to her? Beatrice did not know the answer to that question, but she could only pray that he would do the right thing and marry her... lest she be forced back to the auction warehouse.

The imposing figure who had been calling out the bids was shocked at the two million gold bid, his eyes widening as he shushed the crowds who were beginning to grow upset. "Going once... going twice... sold to the man in the VIP booth! Please come collect your doll in the back room behind the stage." With that, a guard grabbed Beatrice's arm and hurried her off the stage towards the back room which held the prizes of that evening. She struggled against the guard, attempting to break free... but that only caused him to slap her hard across the face as she faded from view.

[Assistant]
Charles gave a minor incline of his head at the invitation to collect his prize. In one smooth motion he got to his feet and shrugged off the company that'd been sharing his booth, leaving them to whine piteously at his back. They were simple mortals and younger vampires, useful to pass the time but far beneath his attention now that he had something to really pique his interest. Still more eyes followed him as he left. Those he'd beaten to the purchase were envious and shocked. None would act immediately, but he held no illusions that they'd come for him now. In buying Beatrice, he'd painted a target on himself. Let them come. Charles was ready for a challenge.

That would come later. For the time being, Charles stepped through into the backrooms. Here the layout was more practical than glamorous. A helpful worker indicated where he should go and he obliged, stepping into what amounted more or less to a dressing room. It was the same small space where Beatrice had been prepared ahead of her sale, but it now contained only two members of staff, Beatrice, and Charles. The signs of where they'd been held were still present, including manacles and ropes and the like. It was not a auspicious meeting place.

He folded his hands behind his back and stalked forward. Tidy dress shoes clicked on the concrete floor with each patient step toward her, until he was stood directly before her. Piercing blue eyes scraped across Beatrice, all the more keenly now that they were up close and personal. He seemed able to stare into her. There was no shame in where he looked, but neither was there favoritism. All of her intrigued him. Eventually his attention settled on her face. "Good evening," he said, politely and somewhat formally. "You will be coming with me. I hope that's not going to be a problem?" As though she had a choice.

[User]
Beatrice rubbed her cheek as she was tossed into the back room, no regard taken for her body as she fell against the ground. How rude... she thought to herself as managed to get onto her feet in front of the two staff that were present, offering only a soft smile in return to their pitying gazes. She didn't need their pity, soon she would be far away from this place. Away from these chains and shackles... and away from the people who would think her weak. If she was lucky, she would be the wife of a powerful man whose respect she would be able to earn in time.

The door opened and Beatrice stepped back carefully, eyeing the man that came into the dressing room. She gulped as he stared at her, peering into her very soul with every second that passed. Her forest green eyes narrowed as she took a step back from him, even as her back pressed against the wall in her attempt to get away from his piercing stare. Beatrice knew that she had no choice in going with him, and that saddened her further. Why should this be happening to her? She missed her mother... her little siblings... home. She missed the smell of pastries cooking that came from the kitchens as she crept up behind the counter to take a piece of cooling tart.

Her eyes watered as she kept her gaze away from his, shaking her head softly. "As if I have a choice in the matter, my lord. I either go with you willingly or be punished for not doing so. How could that possibly be a problem?" She muttered that last part under her breath, even though she knew that at a vampire, he could hear every breath she took and every beat of her heart. Surely he knew how upset she was, even though she knew his home must certainly be better than these ''accommodations''.

[Assistant]
"No, indeed you do not," Charles conceded. There was no sense pretending otherwise. He'd spent a fortune on her, and he was not much used to people contradicting his will even if they were not possessed by him. He was not going to let her go easily! Still, there was a small note of sympathy in his soft words. It was the barest hint that there may be at least some room for her to eke out a life not wholly hard, though vampires were hard to read. "But I would prefer to spare the punishment and go easily. We have plenty enough to do without pausing for lashes or the like."

He came to stand directly before her, hands behind his back and eyes quietly regarding her. His tongue smoothed across his lips thoughtfully, perhaps hungrily. At one edge of his mouth it caught briefly on the keen tip of a fang, but the little sharp prick broke him from his consideration and prompted him to action.

"Excuse my manners," he said, head bowing apologetically. The motion was shallow and guarded, not giving too much away. "My name is Charles. Once my people have finished settling up the business, I will take you to see my home. It is on the outskirts of town, and you will be well there... so long as you concede to follow a few simple rules and restrictions, of course."

[User]
Beatrice sniffled as she looked up at him, trying to hold onto that sympathy that he seemed to hold for her. In the whole time that she had been here, in this new land, no one had dared show her an ounce of compassion or sympathy. It felt good, but she also knew that she wouldn't stay alive very long if she became naïve. He may be nice now, but he could change with the blink of an eye. "I see... in that case I shall come with you willingly... I..."

Before she could say another word, he was right in front of her to the point where she had to look up to see his face. He seemed to be studying her, maybe wondering how she tasted by the way his tongue ran across his lips. Bracing herself, she waited for him to strike... but when she looked closer, he had stopped.

Blinking, she nodded her head in acceptance of his apology. "It is okay... I am sure you are thirsty." His next words gave her another clue about him, his name, which she was quite grateful to learn. "I expected as much, but what sort of rules and restrictions are you talking about? I want to prepare myself." If she didn't, chances were she could end up at the bottom of the ocean... just like other girls who had arrived here with her only to meet their demise at the hands of the staff.

[Assistant]
Charles inclined his head gratefully when Beatrice agreed to come willingly. It was easier that way, he thought. The girl might not be willingly his, exactly, but in his experience it was easier to keep a captive comfortable enough to stay than to keep them wholly locked in. A few freedoms made the rest of their slavery chafe less, and kept them in line. Besides, he was not wholly heartless either.

She asked for information, and again he saw no reason to withhold it. What followed was spoken plainly and matter of fact, leaving no room for interpretation or doubt. It was how things would be, at least for now. "You will be limited to the grounds of my estate for one, and expected to practice and perform magic at my command. You will keep a nocturnal schedule, and consent to my feeding. You will dress appropriately, and respond to my instruction when I need something of you, whatever that might be." There was the faintest sparkle in his eye when he said that, though his smooth features gave little away.

"In return you will be kept safe and comfortable. It need not be such a terrible existence, I hope."

[User]
Beatrice wiped the tears from her eyes as Charles inclined his head, feeling somewhat relieved that he hadn't struck her for asking questions of him like the guard had for her resisting being dragged off stage. "Thank you." She replied, feeling a little more relaxed than she had before. She understood that she was still a slave, but it felt good to know that she wouldn't be in shackles as she left this wretched place.

She huffed slightly as she was told his rules, she understood why they had to be in place... but still. Being forced to be at his beck and call, ordered to do whatever he wanted when he wanted it. It reminded her of when she was back home. Despite being from a relatively noble background, she was only the daughter of a mistress and so she was bossed around quite often. Ordered to do the most base tasks, she was used to what he was telling her. But at the very least, she might be safer with him. "Yes, my lord. I hope that we can get along well." She nodded her head in acceptance, wondering when exactly they would be able to leave so she could see her new home.

[Assistant]
Charles didn't exactly agree, other than by a small nod of assent. What he'd told her had been honest and he hoped for the same thing, but he was prepared for other eventualities. It would be hard to judge the shape and nature of their relationship until it settled, which would take days at least. That was alright, though. The one thing vampires did not tend to lack for was time.

He fell quiet for a moment, and by the time the moment ended the door opened up. In stepped the manager of the auction as well as Charles' representative, who held the contract that would transfer Beatrice. Charles crossed to meet them in the middle of the room and, after a brief exchange and a quick scan of the documents, he signed the dotted line.

"Fabulous," purred the manager, who was suddenly rather a rich man. "Then I hope you enjoy your witch, Mr. Devreaux."

The vampire nodded. "I am sure that I will," he said, turning back to look toward her. He reached a hand as though in invitation. "Come, Beatrice." The word had a slightly sharp command to it, but at least she was going to get what she wished. They left the warehouse toward waiting transport, that would take them the half-hour or so drive necessary to get back to his estate.

[User]
Beatrice didn't respond to his nod, but instead watched the door for any sign of the manager. Surely that bastard would be in at any moment, tickled pink to have sold the witch that brought him the most money. That man would pay for what he did to her friends... one day he would. If not her, than someone else who would have the chance.

The door opened, revealing the manager and another person with a contract. She stayed put where she was, not wanting to rock the boat by disobeying already. So when Charles had signed the paper and ordered her to follow, she did. Beatrice took his hand tightly, almost in fear of the manager whose glare she could feel even as they walked away. He hadn't liked her very much, especially after he heard about the incident at the manor. As they walked towards the transport, she kept her head down and kept herself as close as politeness would allow. At least none of the other people from the auction would be able to grab her, not with her... master around.

[Assistant]
They left the warehouse-cum-club under plenty of attention, but without challenge. Those who ran it were honest men when it came to their patrons, and he had paid well. There were those who might try to snatch her, of course, but not now. They would prepare first. It was a world of betrayal and subterfuge, but not even the Darkstreets were that blunt.

Charles lead her out and down a short walk, to where a driver awaited them. With vestigial chivalry, Charles guided Beatrice to the door and let her in before going round to seat himself. "It is not far," he told her.

Otherwise they traveled in silence, at least from Charles' side. At first they rolled through the city, passing through lamp-lit streets that were quiet due to the late hour. Beyond that, they spilled into suburbia and then countryside. They ascended, driving up a bluff to where Charles' home was. It was a large building, with gardens and a lengthy driveway. The views from the back were back across the city, and the place was well tended. It seemed closer to noble than to the dark and decrepit that vampires were sometimes expected to live in, though the night shrouded much of it for now.

The driver let them out, and Charles went around to offer an arm to Beatrice. "Come," he said again, shortly. "I'll show you your home first. There is food and drink if you need it. A bath, too, though that will come later."

[User]
"Thank you." Beatrice replied as he held the door open for her, getting into the car and waiting for him to take his seat across from her. Once he had been seated, they were off. She looked through the window as they drove, watching the quiet streets with their minimal activity. Soon houses replaced the businesses, lights on in some of the homes with activities going on within. She wondered what sort of lives these people led, if there was anything she could do to help them one day. If she was allowed to, that is.

They soon made it up the driveway where she saw her new home, much more beautiful that she had thought a vampire's home might be like. Charles came around to her let out, and she held onto his arm as she let herself out of the vehicle. So far, he was being very polite to her, which she found to be a refreshing change amidst all the rude people she had met thus far. It might be a temporary thing, but there was hope for something more. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of real food, nodding her head as he mentioned a bath. "All those things sound delightful, thank you, my Lord."

[Assistant]
His brow quirked upward at the little rumble that emanated from her hollow stomach. It had not been very loud, but he had a vampire's senses. He could pick out the beating of her heart and the rushing of blood in her veins, so rumbling tummies were easy. "So I see," he replied, archly but not entirely humorlessly. There was still a little of that excited shine to his eye, something bright and eager.

Charles was happy to treat Beatrice well, so long as she gave him what he needed. So far she'd been quite obliging, calling him lord and following without complaint. He was slowly allowing a hope creep into him that this was how things might be between them, although he could not be sure. He'd not yet put his fangs into her, or drawn her into performing acts of magic. That was when she would be more prone to rebellion, perhaps.

For now he lead her across the gravel courtyard at the front of the building and in through the main entrance. It was quiet inside and dark. Charles rarely cared for the lights, but he remembered with a start that she could not see well without them. He flicked them on and an entrance hall lit up, complete with sweeping staircase and an open space. He led her toward the far end, through which they came to a small dining room. It saw little use, on account of Charles not needing to eat, but it was kept clean and orderly. "I'll send for something to be made. I have a few people---mortals, here willingly---who help me run this place." Maybe willingly was the wrong word. Most of them were thralls, bound by blood to his service. Still... the result was willingness of a sort.

[User]
Beatrice chuckled softly as he spoke, running her hand through her bright red hair as she walked with him up the courtyard, into the main house. She peered through the darkness, until Charles turned on the lights, to her sheer delight. It was almost reminding her of her small manor back home, causing a tear to pool in her eye. All of this was making her think of home, and it was making her sad as a result. Shaking her head, Beatrice decided to do her best here. So that she would be able to marry him, with no second thoughts about being here in his home.

"Thank you, my lord." She replied as he walked her into the dining room, hearing him speak of having humans here to help with the running of the estate. "I see, well you must be grateful to have their help. I hope that I can also help you run this estate, as your bride... wait, do you plan on following that rule? I must admit, I forgot to think about it until just now. I understand that I am your slave, but I heard a rumor from one of the girls that if you wish to get children from me, the contract states you must marry me." She may be going too far, but she had to know if that was true or not. If not, what would her children say one day?


[User]
The elves had been among the last of the free races to stand up to the demon scourge. The abyssal army had made its way across the continent, destroying everything in their path in the pursuit of total conquest, and neither humans nor dwarves could stand up to their relentless attacks. The elven prince had tried to use wise tactics to defeat sheer numbers and military might, praying to the Gods of Nature and fighting amidst the trees that gave the elves an advantage---but it hadn't been enough.

The trees had been cut down in vast quantities, forcing the elven army into smaller and smaller territories with fewer places to wait in ambush; the demon's were stronger than bows or magic, and the best they could do was hold out for as long as possible in hopes that the forest cities would evacuate before they were defeated. A collection of the finest warriors and mages made their final stand in The Hollows; a once-sacred place now stained with blood and bodies. It used to be a place for rituals and celebration. Now it was unrecognizable.

Fallon was named Commander for this final effort. He had served the prince for over two hundred years and had proven his loyalty time and time again. His skill with the blade and with magic were considerable, but there was a limit to even his capabilities. He had led his troops through the initial onslaught, defeating a great many demons and soiling the dirt a deep crimson... but there were always more.

He watched as his kin fell, one after the other, and he himself was battered from the relentless attack. His armor was broken in several places, numerous injuries bleeding or bruising against his skin, and he struggled to properly stand at the end. But stand he did. He forced his limbs to move and to continue swinging his sword---until he heard the last, guttural cry of his prince who had fallen in battle.

He should have died too. He was expecting it as the demons surrounded him, leering and raising their weapons as if to skewer him all at once. He held himself high and gripped his sword tightly, but the final blow never came. Instead he was roughly tackled to the ground, heavy shackles laced with some foul magic clasped around his wrists to hold his arms behind his back. No matter how he cried out in righteous anger, no matter how he bucked or kicked or bit at any who cam close, he was dragged to the demon encampment to await his fate.

The chains had been attached to the ceiling of the tent, pulled uncomfortably backwards such that his body was bent forwards. He didn't know what was planned for him, and he could only wait for his captor to make himself know. Ragged breaths slipped between bruised lips, his body shook slightly from the pain that was beginning to seep into his awareness now that the adrenaline of battle had worn off, and yet his eyes remained strong and defiant as they glared out from behind strands of deep red hair.

[Assistant]
Malchior pushed aside the heavy flap of the tent, a sewn together collection of animal and monster hides and surveyed the elf, running a thick blue-black tongue over his lips at the sight, just letting himself savor his war prize. He didn't speak for a moment, simply undoing the various belts and buckles and straps on his armor, tossing it carelessly to the ground. His sword he hung on a specially crafted rack made of reinforced bone, which also displayed the skull of a dwarf and a human. Soon he would have a elven skull to add to the display.

Only when he was bare-chested did he turn to let his eyes run over his prize. He could feel the fury seeping from the elf, an almost visible aura of anger that stood out around him. Malchior approached slowly, taking a few delicate strands of hair between his fingers, tugging it gently. "The anger is good. Hold onto that," he spoke at last, his voice deep and rumbling and accented in the Common tongue. He stroked his knuckles across the elf's cheek, feeling the delicate bone structure under his hand. How had this race, so beautiful and so delicate, almost birdlike, lasted longer than any other? Perhaps this one would help him find out. "You're going to need it to help you survive. You're wondering why I bothered to keep even one of your race alive, especially one who showed himself well enough in battle that even my lieutenants were forced to admit your skill in combat was extraordinary---for an elf."

He didn't bother to listen to anything the creature had to say, his hand sliding lower to the cup the side of the elf's neck, leaning forward to lick roughly across the elf's cheek with a tongue that was too wet and too long. From inches away from the elf's ear, he murmured, "I have a special fate in store for you, beautiful one. I'm going to rape you. I'm going to fuck every hole in your body and if I get bored, I might make new ones. If you live long enough, I'm going to share you with my army. Perhaps I'll even find a way to ensure you like it---or at least, forget what you ever were, forget everything you are except a hole for a demon to put his cock into." His breathing had gotten rougher, raspier as he spoke, and the hand on the elf's neck tightened a little. "Welcome to rest of your life, little pet."

[User]
Fallon remained relatively still when the demon entered the makeshift tent, his only movement being the subtle heaving of his shoulders with every painful breath. Every blind instinct urged him to struggle and lash out, but he knew better than to waste any more of his energy before his foe was within reach. He would only have one chance to take this bastard by surprise, and he had to make it count.

He watched through narrowed eyes as the large figure methodically removed the bulkier parts of his armor---good, more access to vulnerable points---his hands clenching into fists where they hung above his head. "You know nothing of my anger, demon." The elf jerked his face away from the mocking caress, gritting his teeth. He didn't want this being anywhere near him, not unless he was stuck at the end of a sword. "I assume you intend to keep me as some kind of warning to the other elf cities? It will not work. There are still those who would defy your disgusting corruption."

Fallon's words held such venom in them, and yet Malchior ignored him. The demon pressed uncomfortably close, with a hand lingering against his throat and that damned tongue. The elf made a noise of disgust and turned his face away again as the wet sensation licked over his cheek, shuddering at the sensation. He might have snapped some kind of rebuttal to the touch, but words died with a choked noise in the back of his throat as Malchior so calmly told him what was to happen. Sapphire eyes widened and he grimaced, tension making his slender frame tremble slightly.

"I would sooner die!" He found his voice, shouting his defiance and gripping the chains above his hand. He heaved himself up and kicked out with both feet, hoping to feel the satisfying crunch of his heel meeting the demon's chest. It took much of his already limited energy, but he wouldn't remain a passive victim. Escape, while difficult, was still very much his goal. "Creators take you, monster!"

[Assistant]
His heel hit the demon's broad chest and Malchior's expression flickered to one of surprise, however briefly. Good, the elf truly did have some fire left in him---he could feel the power, the anger, the rage behind that strike. It fueled the demon, excited him---aroused him, truth be told. Passive slaves were for those too unsure of their own power. The real pleasure came from breaking the powerful.

That didn't mean he liked his toys striking him, however.

He stumbled a little from the hit, then lashed out with a rumbling growl, large hand curled into a fist meant to strike the elf firmly in the chest, knocking the wind out of him and giving the demon time to act. His other clawed hand reached to grab the elf by the neck, trying to choke him into submission, not caring if his prey passed out, only that he stopped fighting for the moment, sharp claws trying to dig into delicate skin to draw blood.

[User]
The elf had hoped that his kick would have given him more time; time to perhaps wriggle free from the magical shackles ensnared his wrists or to at least examine them. As it was, he had barely a moment to feel some smug satisfaction at his hit before the demon had recovered and moved to viciously counter with that heavy punch to the chest.

Fallon jolted with the violent impact, coughing and heaving as the air was pushed from his lungs. It was enough to make him gasp for air and wheeze, the dull pain sinking into his chest to add to the multitude of injuries he already suffered. "G-Get... away f-from me---!" He managed to gasp out his defiance, though there was nothing he could do as the clawed fingers curled around his throat.

He struggled as much as he could, writhing in the air and bucking in an attempt to shake off the tight grip. His teeth clenched, eyes narrowed as he felt the claws pierce his skin to draw blood. He could feel the need for air growing steadily more desperate and he pulled uselessly at the shackles above him, lips parting with dry gasps that brought him no relief.

The struggles grew gradually weaker, until Fallon was left twitching and coughing in the demon's hold. His eyes rolled up to the back of his head and it would be a matter of moments before he passed out---his state was entirely in the demon's hands as he hung limply from the shackles.

[Assistant]
Malchior released his grip when he felt the elf grow faint, but only long enough to backhand him with a forceful strike across the face. He leaned in, his long tongue lapping at the spots of blood where his claws had pricked the elf's throat, repeatedly licking and suckling at the bleeding skin. He had to stop the feral urge to bite and tear into the delicate flesh, a shudder running over him as he grasped the elf by the hips and dragged him against him, shoving his hips against the elf's with force. Even through the thin pants the demon wore under his armor, Fallon could feel the enormous bulge grinding against him. Rough, hungry gasps squeezed themselves from Malchior's throat and he began to tear at the elf's clothes with his claws and teeth, shredding the last bits of them until Fallon was only in his underclothes.

Then he took a step back, orange eyes lit with an inner fire and mouth gaped open to show his fangs, his expression dizzied and hungry as he took his elven prize in. In this light, the demon looked entirely feral, a thing of claws and teeth and need, the silhouette of an enormous erection bulging out of his pants. He struck the elf across the face again, his other hand tugging down those thin pants to let his cock spring free. It was huge both in girth and length, oversized even for the creature it belonged to. "I'm going to make you scream, elf," Malchior said, his words in Common slurred with lust as he advanced on his captive. "I'm going to make you beg for the release of death."

[User]
Dark spots had appeared across Fallon's vision and his awareness of what was happening was slipping away. It would have been a mercy for him to completely lose consciousness, but the demon lord wouldn't let him escape in any way. His breath caught with a brief coughing fit when the clawed fingers released their grip, only for the fierce backhand to send his head snapping in the opposite direction. He groaned, tasting blood in his mouth as he struggled to regain his senses. His head was ringing, his vision still blurry as Malchior gave him no time to recover before moving forwards.

A sound of disgust passed the elf's bleeding lips as his body was held tightly, dragged against the demon lord's to feel that disgusting bulge grinding against his hips. He jolted and squirmed as much as he was able, gritting his teeth against the humiliation of being forced into such a position---before suddenly things became much worse.

Fallon gasped sharply and tried to twist away from the violent shredding of his clothes, though his arms were already aching due to his exertion and there was no getting away from teeth and claws that stripped him of his modesty. His body was left fully expose, pale skin soft to touch and dotted with scars from past battles. His frame was slender, tapered hips angled sharply inwards towards his hairless cock. He clasped his thighs together as best he could to try and hide himself, a fierce flush having come to his cheeks.

"I-I won't let you do this! I'll kill you first! I---!" His words were cut off by the second slap, and he groaned quietly against the dull pain across his cheek, spitting a glop of blood sideways to stain the floor. He had turned back to try and form more words of defiance, but they were silenced when his eyes fell upon the huge shaft that hung obscenely between the demon lord's thighs. The sight alone made him feel sick. It was impossible, disgusting, vile. There was no way...

"I'll never beg, demon scum!" He shouted, louder to try and hide his fear as he pulled more desperately at the magical bindings around his wrists, breathing hard. "I'll kill you! I s-swear to the Creators...!"

[Assistant]
Malchior could have listened to the creature before him beg forever. He stood almost close enough to feel Fallon's spit as he protested his fate, one clawed hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking himself to greater firmness with every curse and snarl that came from the elf's lips. The tip of his oversized cock oozed as the demon lord panted just a little, his skin burning hot on his body. He wanted to leave more scars on the elf's pale flesh. He wanted to fuck every hole in his body and then make some new ones and fuck those too. He put his other hand in his own mouth and bit down hard, forcing some control before he simply tore the elf apart in a fit of lust and violence. He spat blood and dropped his hand.

He raked his claws almost gently over the elf's chest, the tip of one claw scraping a delicate nipple. He looked so soft, so frail. Malchior hoped he could survive more than one night. "If you survive long enough, I will train you to beg for all sorts of obscene things," he promised, his voice silky as he trailed his claw over the elf's ribs, pacing slowly around him until he stood behind him. "I'll train you to put your mouth to better use than curses. Maybe, in time, you'll even learn to like it." Huge hand settled on the elf's delicate hips, wrapping around them and squeezing as he dragged Fallon toward him, pressing his weight into him from behind, releasing his hips to use one hand to wrap around the elf's belly and the other to guide his cock toward the elf's entrance with no finesse, teasing at the opening. Against his back, Fallon could feel the heat of the demon, the deep scars on his chest from blades and whips, the sound of his heart slamming with desperate excitement.

Malchior was aware of lubricants, but they were a luxury like silks and fine food. Sex was meant to be an act of violence, of pain and blood. The demon lord meant to show his captive the true extent of his power, bearing his weight down on Fallon's hole, dragging the other man toward him and trying to force the huge head of his cock inside the delicate elf with no regard for the mismatch between their sizes.

[User]
No matter how hard he tried to pull himself free, to twist or wriggle or angle his wrists, the magical shackles remained firmly in place. He couldn't escape, and the creeping realization that there was no way out threatened to overwhelm his better judgment. Panic gripped his heart, blood pounding in his ears as he let out another futile cry of denial to whoever was listening.

His bright eyes remained narrowed to fine suits as he watched the demon lord move yet closer. The powerful scent of demonic magic and arousal made the elf feel sick and he jerked back as a clawed finger ran down his front to nudge against a sensitive nipple. "I-I'll survive enough to make you regret not killing me on the battlefield!" He snapped, squirming away from the trailing claw that slowly dragged across his ribs and to his back.

Fallon hated not being able to see the demon. With nothing to direct his focus to, he was suddenly all the more aware of what was happening. Malchior's assurance that he would beg for things, that he would want anything so disgusting, made his stomach lurch.

"Ugh, n-never... I'll never...!" He gritted his teeth as an arm wrapped around his belly to angle him backwards, the pressure of that impossibly-large cock resting against his unprepared opening. "I-It won't---stop---!" The increasing pressure seemed useless. He was too small, too tense for it to work. At least, that was what Fallon clung to as Malchior continued to push forward, raw physical stretch forcing his opening to stretch and burn with agony as the demon's huge tip tried to force it's way inside.

The elf trembled uncontrollably as blinding pain raced through every nerve ending, his mouth open in a stuttering scream when he felt a sudden give. His body seemed to snap against the relentless pressure, and the demon's head finally tore into his hole. He jerked, feeling the warm trickle of blood down his inner thighs as he sucked in great gulps of air, shoulders heaving with the effort to support himself.

"T-Too... big...!" He managed to choke out, shaking his head frantically. "It w... won't... work...!"

[Assistant]
A primal snarl ripped through the demon's chest when the head of his oversized cock forced its way into the elf's tender hole, feeling the blood trickle around it, enjoying the squeezing around the sensitive head. He wanted to thrust, to bury the rest of himself in the elf, to rip him apart with cock and claws combined. He forced himself to hold still, though, reminding himself that he did want this one to last longer than a night. He could certainly rape him, kill him and eat him, but given how much force he had had to use just to get inside the elf and how much he was already bleeding, he wouldn't last for more than one hard fuck. Disappointing, but he shouldn't have expected more from such a delicate creature.

Still, this was a good chance to teach his new pet a lesson. "That looks like it hurts," he murmured, stroking his claws over Fallon's chest, feeling the muscles tremble from the pain. The elf's scream had been music to the demon's ears, further incentivizing him to want to thrust. "I think if I open you up much further, you might die like this, split open by my cock." He murmured the words like a lover might murmur sweeter comments. "Ask me to make it easier. Ask me to lubricate you so you can really enjoy me." He trailed those claws down over pubic bone, stroking the sensitive skin above the elf's little shaft. "I think I have something in here that might make the experience even more enjoyable, but I want you to ask. To beg. To plead." He moved his hips very gently, a reminder of the alternative. "Or I'm going to tear you open from the inside and enjoy myself while you scream." His tongue lapped at the big vein in the elf's throat, feeling the hot blood pumping through him as he panicked.

[User]
Every heaving breath felt like a great effort as Fallon tried to somehow cope with the terrible, painful violation that was being forced on him. His vision was swimming with unwanted tears that built at the corners of his eyes, left to spill down his cheeks despite his best attempts to keep them from falling. He couldn't control his body as the agony overwhelmed his senses, every tiny movement sending fresh waves of it through his nerves and drawing out more guttural sounds from his trembling throat.

Creators help him, this was only the very tip. He could feel the demon lord's large shaft throbbing against his stretched opening, promising much more beyond what was already tearing him apart. He felt physically sick, and his muscles twitched as sharp claws trailed across his chest with that humiliating comment. )Looks like it hurts.) Twitching fingers clenched into fists where they were strung up, and Fallon gritted his teeth to try and prevent any further sounds from slipping free. He wouldn't give the demon any more satisfaction.

"Ugh, d-da-mn... you..." He hissed between shuddering breaths, grimacing as Malchior's hand trailed lower to drag terrible claws around his cock. The idea of asking or begging the demon for anything immediately drew Fallon's anger. He wanted to spit at the suggestion, fight and struggle against what was happening to him---but then the demon shifted his hips. It was such a small movement, but to Fallon it felt as though knives were stabbing into his body and he groaned as the tongue traced a wet line over his rapid pulse.

He had no doubt that the demon would kill him like this, and while his pride demanded that he should sooner die than lower himself to such shame... if he died this way, it would be for nothing. There would be no victory, no revenge. Just a corpse dangling from the ceiling. If he could survive this, then maybe he could find his vengeance.

He swallowed thickly, a lump having formed in his throat as he parted his lips. "...m-make... it easier..." He shuddered, his stomach churning with disgust. "L-Lubrication... p-please." That final word had taken effort to say, and the elf's eyes had squeezed shut to spare himself having to watch what the demon lord would do.

[Assistant]
Malchior withdrew from Fallon, watching the bleeding elf as he hung there, calming himself with rapid breaths as his member pulsed between his legs, demanding that he re-insert it, force it into the delicate elven body before him. Instead, he turned to scour the tent, locating a chest sitting near the end of his bed and strolled over to open it, pulling out a crystalline bottle filled with an amber liquid. He paced back over to his captive, nuzzling him possessively, the scent of the elf's skin and the smell of his fear contributing to his arousal. "I like hearing you beg, little pet. I'll want to hear more of that." He murmured, dipping two fingers into the liquid, withdrawing his claws as he slid his hand lower. "This will ease my passage and make you feel less pain." He chuckled, low and deep. "It was made by the succubi of the court. You may even feel some pleasure."

One large finger pressed into Fallon's opening, stretching him. The liquid did seem to dull the pain in the elf's body almost immediately, even as the demon began to work his passage open, sliding the thick digit deeper into the elf, his other clawed hand holding Fallon in place. He soon added a second digit, stretching and scissoring him, his tongue occasionally slipping out to lick the elf's skin, as though he couldn't stop himself from tasting his prey.

He wasn't sure how well the magic in the substance would work on the elf, but it was commonly used on lesser demons and favored pets, to give them pleasure while they were being taken. It probably wouldn't hurt for the elf to get some physical pleasure out of his master's attentions, he supposed, though he had been looking forward to more of his cursing and sobbing. Still, these measures would at least keep the pretty elf alive for additional use in the future.

[User]
The demons lord stepping back, sliding his impossibly-sized cock out of Fallon's torn opening was almost as painful as the deep thrusts that had jerked his body like a ragdoll. He gritted his teeth to try and suppress the low groan of pain that met the movement, his slim hips twitching violently once they were free. He could feel the awful emptiness against his stretched hole, legs too weak to try and spare himself any modesty as he simply hung from his shackles. The pain didn't fade as tears in his skin throbbed, copious amounts of blood running down across his trembling thighs.

He could only imagine what he must look like as he took great, heaving gasps of air---and before he could collect himself Malchior was back, pressing uncomfortably against his side. "Nngh---I'm n-not... your pet." The elf managed to speak through clenched teeth, turning his gaze to glare with as much venom as he could muster into the horribly smug face that watched his every move.

When he felt the slick finger press against his opening his muscles immediately tensed, though the pressure inevitably pushed through to rub whatever the substance was against his insides. Fallon's eyes widened slightly at the sensation that was almost immediate; the potent magic dulled the pain to leave only the slow slide of friction across sensitive skin. The elf shuddered and grimaced, part of him wishing that he had never made the desperate request.

The last thing he wanted was to feel any kind of pleasure from this, and yet he felt his breathing become slightly heavier, his cheeks flushed, and his hips squirmed slightly when the second clawed digit pressed inside. He could feel their thickness stretching him, and when they parted against his inner walls he couldn't help a stuttering cry at the sensation. The tongue tasting his throat only added to the utter humiliation of what was happening, and Fallon turned his head away in an attempt to hide his shame.

"D-Damn you... I... I w-will... kill you---nngh!" His defiance was laced with deep gasps and shudders as he remained in place, shivering against the demon lord's firm hold.

[Assistant]
Malchior watched the elf begin to tremble not from pain, but something else. He could smell the elf's blood, taste it in the air, and his lips were parted, feeling the coppery tang in his mouth and throat. It was so hard not to rip and tear, not to bite and savage the creature's tender flesh. He could smell the shame and arousal on the elf's skin and that increased his own desire tenfold. He had to stop himself from flexing his claws inside Fallon, his other hand working to squeeze at the air as he spread the elf. When the elf threatened him, he laughed, a sharp, vicious sound. "If you were going to kill me, you should have done it on the battlefield. But perhaps, if you're good, I'll give you another chance." It wasn't like he had anything to fear from elves or as though he was a coward. He'd like to see his pet try it---and then afterwards, remind him of his place.

He pushed aside the fantasy as he jerked his hand free of the elf, pressing himself against Fallon but not in, the head of his oversized cock dripping with cum. "I bet you feel empty, pet," he growled, each word rougher than it had been before, ignoring the elf's protest about not being his pet. He rubbed the head of his shaft teasingly over the elf's swollen, torn entrance. "I'll fill you up. I hope that all of the pain isn't gone, I did like hearing your screams."

He hoped the succubi's formula really did have healing properties, or his new pet might still die, just with less pain, and that would be unsatisfying all around. But as he grabbed Fallon's hip with one hand and used the other to guide the huge shaft to the elf's entrance, he couldn't bring himself to care, pressing his weight in, enjoying the slick resistance the elf's body provided, a bone-deep growl escaping him. The heat, the pressure, as he buried himself to the hilt in the smaller body, made him ache. He was panting, whining, his heavily muscled chest pressed hard into Fallon's back. "I am going to rape this hole so many times," he murmured in the elf's ear. "I'm going to fill you up until you're slick with my cum. I'm going to use you until I'm satisfied." And that would be a long time. As far as the demon Malchior could remember, he'd never been satisfied.

Despite the violence of that first thrust, he forced himself to slow down, dragging his hips backwards almost luxuriously, before slamming into the elf with another bone-jarring thrust. He wanted to enjoy this for as long as possible.

[User]
The demon's vicious laughter cut much more deeply than any of the wounds he had suffered in battle. It was painfully obvious that Malchior thought the elf to be so much weaker than him that there was no chance of victory, and while Fallon didn't want to believe it... there was no denying the vast difference in raw power between them. Fallon was quick, agile, and determined---but Malchior was something else entirely, something that he had never encountered before. It was frightening, but the elf would never admit to having such thoughts.

He reminded himself that he had to remain strong even as a low groan spilled from his lips when the thick fingers were jerked from his body. His body trembled against the demon lord as the huge shaft nudged against his stretched opening, anticipation building and causing havoc in the young elf's mind. He knew that it would hurt, it would be humiliating, it would break him all over again---and yet that damned concoction left his insides feel empty, cold and almost needing something to fill the void.

He bit hard on his lower lip to try and stifle any noise as Malchior positioned his hips and started to press inside, but it was no used. Fallon's teeth bit through skin and he let out a desperate cry, the sound echoing through the tent as that impossible stretch forced his body to welcome Malchior's cock. It didn't hurt as much, but there was still undeniable discomfort as he felt his insides shift and saw the awful bump in his stomach where the demon lord's cock rested so deep inside him.

"U-Ugh... b-astard..." He only just managed to gasp out the single word between gritted teeth, his slender frame shaking as he felt the slow pull of the demon lord withdrawing---just the tip remaining inside. Then came the sudden thrust that punched into his body, causing him to jerk violently against the shackles holding him up, his head being thrown back with a strangled groan. His eyes were already struggling to focus through the haze, and he wondered how long it would last...