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Yet I have a difficult time ignoring the small voice in the back of my mind, that only has concern for this woman, this human slave. Even as I work to plan my ascension to the throne, this woman’s frightened eyes spark something powerful within me. Something inevitable.
“Move, girl,” another lord barks at her, and shoves her forward before she can react. These men are here to release their lusts on these women- as is their right, I have to remind myself. What cruel joke the Gods have decided to play upon me this night, stirring my sympathies for this beautiful, lowborn slave!
The lord grabs her chin, forcing her to confront the scene. I can see her terror grow as she witnesses the other slaves be debased, the flower of virginity ripped from their writhing bodies. I start at the sound of creaking glass, and realize I am about to shatter the goblet I am holding.
I set my wine glass down calmly, lest the others see my self-control slipping. I have to internally focus in order to calm my sudden rage, blood boiling at the thought that this woman will soon join the ranks of the other nameless slaves, flesh and spirit corrupted. Her anxiety grows, and I can feel it- it makes me want to embrace her; to know her and provide comfort.
These sensations ought to be foreign to me. Tonight’s gathering is simply another one of my duties as a potential heir to the throne to provide for the lower classes. In spite of understanding this, I find myself becoming more entranced by the strange charms of this inferior, albeit magnificent slave.
As a member of the royalty, I too have received impeccable training in discipline, finding no need to engage in such exhibitions, and my reputation speaks for itself. Yet this evening, I find myself closer to being overwhelmed than I ever have before. She has bewitched me, consumed me, even as I remain still.
Even the other Dukes around me have fallen silent, choosing to enjoy the showing of tonight’s entertainment before us. The lesser nobility among our group: self-important landowners, influential merchants, and high-ranking warriors, have already begun to slake their pleasures on the other slave women. The ambient sounds and light music have given way to a cacophony of flesh and moans.
Already a feral lust has begun to color the eyes of these inferior nobles. They grab at the slaves, some forcing the girls to their knees, while others have contorted bodies to fuel their passions. Humiliation and violence are just as much a part of this exhilaration as is pleasure- and it is the prerogative of any elf here to feast on desire as they see fit.
The one who had grabbed my human continues his cruel game, using his grip to knock the poor girl down to the ground. Some around him laugh and jeer, while others are otherwise preoccupied.
“Go on then,” a Miou class fighter jeers nearby. “Show the girl what she’ll be learning tonight!” I think nothing of their asinine behavior, fascinated instead with the innocent composure she manages to keep, despite being powerless and scrutinized.
Even more of the lords have joined, several grabbing at a slave to share between them. Although presumably pure, many of the girls present already know what is expected of them. I suspect a few, such as the low-born zagfer, are even trained in the connubial arts, regardless of the house manager’s promises.
Some have even decided to put on a show for the lords present, hoping to curry some paltry favor. These slaves were here simply as tools for our pleasure, including the one that has drawn me in, and to regard them otherwise would reveal a weakness of character that could quickly be exposed by an enemy, or even an ally.
Still, I could not help the feelings of concern and anger I felt at the young woman’s treatment. She of all the others was the most innocent, untainted by the cruelties life had to offer. Where had she come from, and what had brought her to this place?
I have taken naive lovers, like the slaves present, as well as experienced ones, trained and educated in the art of seduction- and thought nothing of it. None have ever captivated me like this sweet creature. I continued to watch the proceedings, hiding a barely perceptible frown at her treatment.
Nights like this help to stabilize the delicate power structure we have maintained throughout the centuries. While the other dukes and myself have no need to partake of the House’s delights, we allow our inferior peers a free reign. Many have already forced themselves onto the slave women, while my human is forced to watch.
Several women that have been driven to their knees are swallowing the cocks that have been shoved into their mouths. Some are taking several lords in hand, while others are bent over, legs spread and breasts exposed. Veils and skirts have been lifted, as the Lesser Lords have their way.
Some of the slaves gag and cough, revealing their inexperience. Others are quiet, simply allowing the men to have their way, small cries and tears are their only effort of resistance. Some revel in the show of leisure foreplay, fondling nipples and nether lips; while others forgo the show altogether, with vicious bites and bruises to expend their lust.
I only watch her, my human, while she looks on. One slave has been forced to take several lords with all her holes, while another is ruthlessly sodomized against a wall. Moans and sobs fill the air, as even more slaves are brought in, to satisfy the nobles’ appetites.
The men are beginning to lose themselves in the excitement. Women are being passed around senselessly, taken on tables and across chairs, as thrusts turn harsher, commands more debased. Some of the slaves' cries turn into wails as the men turn more violent, their primal nature coming to the forefront.
Watching a dark elf revel in his magic, giving in to the exhilaration, can be an overwhelming experience to those who witness it for the first time. Our strength and stamina are heightened, while our regard for others all but disappears. I can see my human react with horror, panic setting in.
I can also tell from her intelligent expression that it isn’t the taboo that frightens her, so much as it is the loss of control. I disdain the display for my own reasons, but I am secretly obsessed with her reactions. A twisted part of me wonders what she might have been like if she were adequately prepared for such a show.
Would she acquiesce demurely, or put on the act of a struggle? Would she be a great seductress, or would she cultivate her natural innocence? These questions slither through my mind, even as the nobles continue their demonstration, her lesson.
One of the men has had his fill of voyeurism, and impatiently lunges for her, heightening her panic. She dodges to avoid his lecherous grasp, but is no match for elvish agility. He tears at her skirts, revealing a slender, shapely leg to my gaze.
She falls back, clutching at the remnants of material, screaming in terror. I can only bring myself to observe, silently and angrily, as more men advance. They surreptitiously approach, closing in like lustful predators. They are ready for this slave to show them the lessons she’s learned from this show.
5
DIANE
The terror grows within. Even as I stand, watching the debauchery before me, the fear spreads like a plague through my body. I had told myself that this was what I was here for, to sell my body so that my family could live, but I hadn’t expected a scene like this on my very first night.
Not like this.
I struggle through the faces and writhing limbs, searching for an escape. Surely there must be some other way I can get the fortune that my family needs, that doesn’t involve me being subjected to becoming an elvish plaything. I’ve never seen the prestigious and untouchable Elves devolve into such madness.
A man lunges for me, startling me out of my shock. I can’t stay here, the house rules be damned. I quickly dodge his reach, tearing my dress in the process. It only puts more of my form on display, but I can’t worry about that right now- I have to get out of this room.
