Dark Elven Justicar

"Well? By law, you can take her as your indentured servant for the duration of the damage... Or ask for extra punishment."

Gertrude turned her head to the drow girl whom she slapped. The sadness and fear in her eyes were apparent. She rapidly shook her head, eyes full of tears, pleading silently at the Svartalf guard, who sighed softly and shrugged, scratching her big, long, ear.

"No, your honor. She...made a mistake..." Her ears drooped a little, obviously feeling part of what the girl was going through. "I'd rather have her punishment softened, but I doubt your judgment would let it..."

"Try me." A'dalet politely retorted, unimpressed by her racial cousin's weak behavior.

"Would you lessen the blows in any chance? Or no "reflection time"?"

The Justicar thought in quiet contemplation for a moment, her almond eyes glittering with an idea.

"She can sleep and recover in the infirmary rather than standing all day, I'll grant this." Was her polite verdict. "I think the blows will remind her of the error of her ways." The surface dark elven guest guard, her cheek pain receding, sighed. When sobbing Gertrude was being dragged away by the impassive, expressionless guardswoman, she mumbled.

"I wanted to talk to her, strike a conversation... " Her adorable, elven ears, and long, cute chocolate-colored knives sank in embarrassment.

"Maybe ask her out..."

The Justicar's shrug and stare were less than impressed, looking at the awkward lesbian Svartalf girl who had just ruined a date.

"You should have been direct. Perhaps when she wails under the strap tenderizing her pale surface bum, you will reflect on what you have caused here yourself..." Seeing her sad expression, the Justicar added. "You can go and take the day off, maybe..." Her eyes squinted into gleaming purple slits, never leaving the slapped drow's own.

"...you'll figure it out. Next!"

*-*-*-*

The Justicar's judgment worked swiftly.

"Guilty of theft. Twenty-five birch lashes!"

The gold-and-onyx inlaid staff slammed conviction after conviction:

"Guilty of property damage, twenty-eight spankings!"

"Guilty of misleading product sale. Fifteen paddles!"

The marble platform rang and rang again after the magical staff did its work:

"Guilty of assault. Thirty paddles, five extra for disrespect!"

"FUCK YOU!"

The red-headed brigand girl flipped the bird at the judge, earning ten more for contempt, and got dragged out screaming and kicking by several dark elves.

When the day and the number of trials ended, the Justicar took a deep breath:

"I'll oversee their punishments."

*-*-*-*

The Punishment Room was a padded, wood-floored chamber full of soft, pillow-lined chairs. Worried, fearful girls from all races, mostly human, waited in mute worry, wringing hands, biting fingernails, or merely looking down. The angry brigand girl was shackled and overseen by a dark elven guard.

When the Justicar entered the room, the sheer noise of moving feet and whimpers made her smirk. A'dalet enjoyed it, passing the rows of scared girls and entering her booth, taking each birch rod, each paddle, every instrument, and weighing them as the poor wretches waited in mute fear. She had another drow guard to help her, a young girl from the underground cities she reckoned, a newcomer.

"I'll save brigand Gisele for the last." She intoned loudly, ignoring the gagged redhead's squeals, feet and hands cuffed separately by chains.

"NEXT! Joanna!"

Shivering, the young girl who framed her friend stood up and walked in slow steps towards the impatient Justicar who frowned at her slowness.

"Hurry up, I don't have all day!" The Justicar's ears peaked in annoyance. "Over my knee, remove your bottoms, chop chop!"

"Sorry..." The girl sighed, hesitating until the Justicar's assistant pulled her over the older drow lady's knees, and harshly pulled her skirt, and panties before Joanne could react, revealing her slightly hairy pussy, and poor, plump, exposed asscheeks which would soon be very, very sore. Feeling her bottom exposed, and held down, the poor human could only whimper, expecting the inevitable.

"We'll start with ten slaps, feel free to wail as loud as you can." The Justicar smirked, gently squeezing Joanne's soft, round, asscheeks. The poor human felt an immense feeling of pleasure mixed with humiliation before a stinging pain erupted on her buttcheek.

It was at this moment she realized the consequences of her actions.

"One!"

It was no playful slap belonging to a tryst between lovers.

The human screamed in surprise and shock before, one by one, the Justicar's strong, trained, elegant dark elven palm exploded repeatedly on her asscheeks. The soft, pliable, round asscheeks jiggled, sending waves of pain with every blow. The chuckling Justicar didn't even wait, and with a flick of her hand, drew a birch rod, and raised it with all her strength.

"That was just the beginning."

"What?" Joanna gasped for air and felt the true wrath of an irate dark elf.

When the rod exploded on Joanna's plump, pink bottom, jiggling the poor, tormented asscheeks, she shrieked so loud that the girls waiting in the punishment room started to panic, and fidget in their seats, only kept down by guards. One after another, the swish, the crack, and the gasps and wails echoed across the punishment room, adding to the collective fear of the convicted girls.

Sometimes anticipation made a good teacher, A'dalet thought. She pulled the squealing Joanna by the ear and pointed to a room with a red door:

"Go to the Reflection Chamber, enter a booth, and face the wall with your hands on your head, fingers locked!"

Slowly, the bottomless girl pulled herself together, and eyes teary, went for her "corner time" punishment. A'dalet pretended not to notice the glistening moisture gracing the girl's unshaven pubic hair with a smirk.

"NEXT!" A'dalet enjoyed the gasps of excitement and fear every time another girl went (or was dragged) into her booth, eventually being bent over her knee, her back defenseless for A'dalet to slowly peel off the skirt and the panties, revealing one's bum bare with the cute pubic hair sticking out.

The justicar took a note about forcibly shaving human girls' pussies post-punishment as extra humiliation.

Her paddle rose, the poor girl's eyes tearing up and closing to brace for impact.

And as always, the paddle landed with full force on the soft, round, pale cheek, jiggling it with a god-awful cracking sound, punctuated by the condemned's wailing. For an entire hour, sounds of slapping, smacking, and cracking leather were followed by sobs, wails, and screams, the remaining condemned positively shaking in their shoes.

"To the wall!" A'dalet pointed out that after each girl's punishment, the poor things slowly waddle in pain to reflect on their crimes facing the humiliation corner, quivering bare bottoms overseen by a human and dark elven guardswoman with wide grins on their faces:

"What a view. Sobs are extra."

"Pay is bad, but I'm not complaining."

*-*-*-*

"NEXT!"

Another human girl entered the room and removed her trousers and panties before obediently lying over A'dalet's knees. Wasting no time, the drow Justicar quickly read the girl's charges and started striking the dark-complexioned, soft, brown asscheeks with strong, open-palmed slaps.

Every slap made the girl gasp and cringe, blow after blow, her eyes started to tear and her voice started to break.

"That's twenty-five, missy." A'dalet sighed and lifted her by the belly, taking her pants away. "To the corner and next time, try to be a better person." The girl quietly wept as she entered the Room of Reflection.

Then came the last one, the infamous bandit Selki who had robbed three merchants in the forests, every other girl successfully punished for the day.

Kicking and screaming even as four strong drow guards carrying her, she tried to spit at justicar A'dalet, only to have an enchanted ball-gag shoved in her face quickly and secured with a snap of the justiciar's fingers.

They had to slap and pin Selki down just to get her pants off, and secure her to a small, X-shaped wooden frame, bare-bottomed, ankles and wrists shackled to the crossed beams, screaming under her plump, red gag all the time.

She screamed louder when the first swing of the paddle exploded on her plump, pale ass, making it wobble like jelly and her, howl at the night skies.

"You *will* break," A'dalet snarled, swinging another paddle blow at the restrained bandit girl's buttocks and making her wail as if she was being flayed alive. "You will not defy justice! Three!"

The bandit girl Selki had been broken already, wailing as tears ran across her face. She was unable to scream, yet swearing to every god inside her mind never to piss off her dark elven overlords or her own human queen.

*-*-*-*

While cracking of leather, and wails of pain echoed across the house of justice, Gertrude wept. Her bottom was bruised and red. She lay on her belly, nude, her feet and hands shackled to the bedposts as a nurse laid an ointment poultice on her bare bum, sighing. It barely helped, as it was a simple human cure. The human nurse, in her nun habit, sighed and shook her head, not allowed to unlock her cuffs.

"You have a visitor, dear." She spoke and left, Gertrude stiffened in worry. When she turned her head briefly, exposed and tired, her brows furrowed in annoyance.

"Hey."

It was the dark-elven guard girl.

"Um..." She looked down, scratching her big ears. "I...look..." Her soft, high-pitched, inhuman voice was a welcome change after the all-too-human grunts and sobs around her.

"Have you come to enjoy your work?" Gertrude's voice was bitter.

"I didn't mean it to come to this." She approached a poor human, lying on her belly, angry, frustrated, and in pain, with very gentle steps, keeping her voice low. Gertrude hissed, whether in pain or anger was irrelevant.

"I acted too rash, thinking surfacer humans were like our humans...servants underground."

"Good for you." Gertrude spat, offended even more. "You take our kin as slaves and now you gloat about it here?"

"I meant: I am sorry." The drow girl's patience was being tested, but she kept it up. "I should have been less pressing."

Gertrude sniffled. "It's done anyway. My butt hurts like hell."

"I can help with that." The drow spoke softly, her face full of concern. "May I remove your cover? I brought medicine."

"Fine." Gertrude sighed. "I've been humiliated as it is."

The drow hissed when she gently removed Gertrude's sheets. Poor, soft-looking, bountiful asscheeks paler than snow had been made red bordering on bruises, Gertrude lay naked on the bed. Quickly opening her jar of elven ointment, the drow guard girl dabbed a finger, and started, *very* gently, rubbing the magical salve across the welts and redness.

A short, subdued sigh signaled Gertrude's pain was lessening. She didn't react when the drow girl reached out, filled her palm, and started rubbing Gertrude's asscheeks generously with the magical ointment.

Gertrude just sighed, it was starting to feel letter, and the girl's touch was...

...loving.

"Wha's your name, anyway?" Gertrude asked slowly.

"Ra'leiz" The drow kept rubbing the ointment, welts and bruises disappearing quickly. After several minutes (and generous application) of expensive healing salve, Gertrude stopped feeling any pain.

The drow still kept rubbing the salve, or, actually kept softly groping her poor butt.

Gertrude didn't mind at the soft touches, and even slowly relaxed her tense legs and spread them a little.

"I'm Gertrude."

*-*-*-*

Two weeks later...

Nighttime...

Across the ducky, tens of thousands of poor girl butts had been spanked, strapped, and paddled. Wails of pain and shock would melt into whimpers of self-reflection and penance. Already crime had dropped across the duchy, as the seemingly eroticized dark elven punishments were painful in reality and application, as spoiled bratty girls and boys could not sit for days, ointment sales skyrocketed, and threats of slavery immediately deterred many potential repeat offenders. The initial amused reaction of the human criminals melted within days: spanking could be extremely painful, and not at all, a fun punishment.

Justice was served, and the Dark Elven Law was upheld.

It was night-time, drow, and human guards patrolling the streets for thieves and night offenders. Not that they needed it: people didn't even need to lock their doors with the harsh justice around.

"One hundred and nine...one hundred and ten..."

The Guardswoman Kira was naked, sweating, doing pushups in her personal office, her night-time drow wing woman Lu'viri watching her with a huge grin on her face before both women went out patrolling. Next to them was a bath Lu'viri had prepared for Kira, intending to watch every detail.

She was already falling for the strong guardswoman.

The newly built, all-female prison was full, with cells full of sighing and sobbing, bottomless human girls lying on their bellies as a nurse would visit each one and apply cool ointment if they had been docile during their punishments, gentle hands spreading the refreshing, pain killing, colorless gel on poor, red buttcheeks, her motherly face wearing an expression of concern and sadness for stupid, spoiled girls that did not know any better.

The Corner of Reflection was full as well: booths full of bottomless convicted girls, bare butts and pussies shivering at the cool air flowing between windows as they faced the wall, hands behind their heads, fingers locked and legs spread, staring at the brick wall in complete silence. A drow governess, the Justicar's cousin, quietly watched every girl with an hourglass at her side. Slowly standing up, she walked with a slow stride, her high heels clicking on the cold, stone floor, and approached each girl, inspecting their bottoms, never touching except for barest, gentlest contact, content that their bottoms weren't scarred permanently. For some that could barely stand up, she would spray a cool, painkilling ointment on their poor, bare bums until they sighed in relief.

Some sported cat or fox ears and tails, each having their asses, their poor red peaches spanked raw and red. A few were whimpering still: they were surface Dark Elves who settled in the human duchy. Their punishments would be always extra strict, for the Svartalvar were expected to be paragons of good behavior to their human vassals. The dark elven offenders sniffled, ears already drooping like that of cats, their poor, dark-brown, soft, and round bottoms sporting welts and bruises from daily strap blows.

When the hourglass ran out, she spoke in a very quiet, low voice:

"You may pull your pants back on and go to bed."

"Thank you, ma'am..." They replied in defeated unison.

The girls quietly unclasped their hands and lowered them, covered their abused, paddled bottoms with the soft, grey, silken uniforms (courtesy of a charitable Arachne family who felt bad for the convict girls), and slowly shambled to their beds, often using each other for support, whimpering with every step, their poor, jiggling butts quivering in every painful step.

And A'dalet, who made all this happen, opened the Inn's door, smiling at the innkeeper, a drow like her, wiping glasses. They nodded at each other, A'dalet going upstairs with quick, brisk steps in her sexy, yet functional dark elven armor.

The once violent brigand redhead Selki curtsied politely as A'dalet passed her by for her lodgings upstairs. She was now a polite, well-mannered waitress at the inn that was assigned to the dark elven Justicar, submissive, polite, and wearing a skirt one size too short and a paddle hanging at the counter to remind her to know her place, as well as provide visitors with eye candy. A spell with the super-paddle "Lady-Cure-All" over a week had made her meek and mild.

Walking upstairs, her high heels muffled by the red carpet, she passed by the maid, tipping her several silver pieces. It was the kitsune who had been fired from another tavern months ago, now employed here as a maid who never had to carry glass, the maid skirt sporting a hole for her cute, swishy tail.

Girls reformed, justice was served, dark elven judgment was felt across the land.

Justicar A'dalet could ask for no more, happily sleeping in her big, expansive bed reserved for her in the Inn's most expensive room. She was clad in pink pajamas, her unicorn hug pillow in her arms, her lustrous white hair protected by her pink, pom-pom-topped nightcap, her cute, delicate, well-manicured black feet wearing pink-and-white socks, and her big, long dark elven ears clad in peach-colored, cotton-lined ear-socks made for sensitive elves and their big, cute ears.

She dreamt of publicly holding hands with a human man from the surface, horrified succubi staring at them in outrage.

(TO BE CONTINUED)