Last Hope of the Elves Ch. 02

Author's note: Far from a new writer, but this is (part two of) my first pass at erotica. Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome and appreciated. Now for the disclaimers. This story features nonconsensual content. Rape is wrong. Don't do it. Everyone knows this. If you don't enjoy stories with this kind of content don't read them and don't whine about them in the comments. All characters who engage in sexual content are of age. Now, thank you for reading and on with the show.

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Raucous cheers and bawdy drinking songs echoed through the brothel's central room and into Elena's ears. Tonight was her public debut in the Broken Bow Brothel now that she had been released back into the possession of the man who had captured her. Elena had once been a warrior and esteemed officer in the Emerald Wardens, storied defenders of the elven kingdom of Tintariel. After that nation's conquest by its human neighbours she had become an icon of resistance and the leader of a guerrilla campaign.

Two months ago, her position had altered dramatically. While attempting to liberate more than a dozen captive elven warriors from the brothel in which they were forced to entertain their enemies, a cruel turn of fortune had resulted in Elena's capture and defilement by the owner of that vile establishment. Her captor, a hulking retired soldier by the name of Jacques, had forced himself upon her several times that night and come the next day turned her in to the local duke for a substantial bounty she had proudly earned in the course of her rebellion.

For the next several weeks she had been held in the lord's dungeon, worked over day and night by expert interrogators who sought to learn every secret she could provide about the elven rebels she led. Eventually, inevitably, she had cracked. Every hideout, every supplier, every secret infiltrator she revealed to her captors. Satisfied they had extracted every piece of useful knowledge from her mind, the sadists in that dark dungeon released her to a healer who had overseen her recovery under heavy guard. Only a few days ago, she had been deemed healthy enough for release back to the now much wealthier Jacques as part of his reward for her own capture.

Even before his prize was returned to him, Jacques had been preparing for the most unforgettable night the Broken Bow Brothel had ever seen. Supplies had been purchased, guests had been invited, and extra muscle hired on to keep things orderly. Once Elena had been returned to him, Jacques closed down the brothel for two days so the girls could rest and remain fresh for the coming party.

Now the day had come and Elena half stood at the eye of the storm, bent over forward with her neck and wrists trapped inside a somewhat undersized pillory which Jacques had procured for the occasion and placed upon the brothel's main stage. Some strands of her long, straight chestnut hair hung down to frame a pretty face while the rest were pulled through the pillory and splayed out across the smooth back from which Jacques had spared no expensive in having vicious whip marks removed by the temple healers. The trapped elf's supple, inviting ass jutted out behind, the soft folds of her shaved quim displayed between creamy thighs that turned into long, toned legs as they stretched down to the floor. Every inch of her pale, wood-hued skin was exposed, save that trapped within the pillory. All told Elena was a magnificent sight, simultaneously a living shrine to both elven beauty and human supremacy.

The many guests invited to the brothel's grand celebration of her debut had begun arriving more than an hour ago, but none had yet approached her. A cordon of burly bouncers held position around the center stage to ensure that the evening would play out as planned. The rest of the girls in the brothel, however, had not been so fortunate. In the spirit of celebration, the guests had been afforded unlimited use of the other elves free of charge for the duration of the evening. As they waited for the main event, many indulged with great enthusiasm. The only rule of the evening, aside from those regarding Elena herself and the standard prohibition on permanent damage, was that the girls had to be facing their fallen heroine at all times.

Silent tears traced their way down Elena's cheeks as relentless scenes of depravity played out before her eyes. Closest to her at the moment was a dark haired girl Elena had never seen before today. Her curly hair and larger than average breasts bounced in rhythm as she worked herself up and down on the modest cock of what appeared to be a wealthy merchant. Her back pressed against his chest as both faced Elena, but while his eyes never departed from Elena's fine form the girl seemed to look everywhere else in the room. The brunette's legs were splayed wide and Elena couldn't help but stare at the place of their joining, noting the froth and scum which leaked from the girl's snatch with every impact to stain her thighs. While she watched, the man used one hand to grab hold of the girl's head and force her gaze upon Elena while his other continued to play with her bountiful breasts and the small metal piercings which shamefully ornamented her nipples. The unknown brunette barely blushed as two pairs of elven eyes met, and she never ceased the whorish, blatantly artificial moaning that accompanied the pair's copulation.

Finally breaking her gaze away from the merchant and his toy, Elena looked upwards only to be captivated by another scene. On the balcony above the central room a familiar figure was bent over a railing as she received a harsh pounding from behind. Clea had been a painter before the war who volunteered only months before the fall of Tintariel and was swiftly assigned as reinforcement for Elena's depleted unit. A tall, willowy blonde with a soft face predisposed to dreamily gazing up at the night sky, Elena knew the girl to have been a virgin at the time from how fiercely she blushed and stammered in the face of her fellow warriors' relentless teasing. The artist had clearly long since been deprived of that status, but she somehow maintained an air of innocence and naivety despite her captivity. At the moment Clea's face was contorted into a pained grimace, her eyes shut tight and mouth open wide in a wail drowned out by the noise below. From the girl's display, Elena was fairly certain the man hidden behind her was neglecting the more conventional embrace of her womanhood in favour of an alternative point of entry.

Since being sealed into her pillory shortly before the arrival of the first guests, Elena had seen little but a parade of such scenes. Of course, just fourteen of her former countrywomen hardly provided sufficient holes for the dozens of patrons present to be satisfied simultaneously, so a healthy number were typically clustered around the brothel's modest bar while others clustered as near the stage as they were allowed. Those whose attentions were fixated on her had spent the evening hurling taunts and abuse, teaching her no fewer than seventeen new slurs, insults, and creative theories of unconventional parentage in the process.

The evening's main event began when Jacques finally emerged from his personal quarters to join the festivities. At nearly six and a half feet, the burly man towered over most of the human patrons, let alone the elven girls servicing them. He was somewhat flushed from exertion and completely unclothed, revealing the weapon between his legs to be fully proportional to his frame. Said appendage was currently at its full size, almost certainly thanks to the ministrations of the girl trailing him.

Breanna was Jacques' first and favourite captive. Even among her fellow elves, the blonde's slight frame and modest bust rendered her a youthful appearance. At least for tonight, however, that appearance lent her no illusions of innocence. Of late her suffering had rivaled even that of Elena, and it showed. The heroine's attempt to liberate the captives of the Broken Bow Brothel had been organized and planned with the assistance of those trapped within, a detail which had not escaped Jacques' notice. It had quickly become clear to him that his favourite had been the ringleader of their defiance and the cruel man had shown no mercy. Now Breanna trailed her master with downcast eyes, led along by a leather leash attached to a tight collar around the girl's neck.

Crowded the room may have been, but Jacques had little trouble navigating his way to the central stage even with Breanna in tow. The patrons parted before him, their conversations and distractions drawing to an end as all eyes followed the big man in eager anticipation of what was to come. Even the merchant in front of Elena shifted his attention, stilling the girl atop his cock with a casual swat and a whispered word.

Jacques passed through the bouncers without a word, only drawing to a halt once he stood beside and slightly behind Elena atop the stage. One of his hands rested possessively on his prize's rump while the other clutched tight to Breanna's leash. The girl came to a stop behind him and dropped to her knees without need for instruction. Elena had believed she could feel no more shame than she already had being so publicly displayed for more than an hour, but now she felt the heat rise ever so slightly in her cheeks, though she couldn't be sure whether the reaction was caused more by the hand casually caressing her rear or the girl whose face was so near her sex that Elena could feel soft breathing tickle the back of her thighs.

"Welcome, friends, I am truly heartened that you could all join me here tonight." Jacques' voice carried throughout the room, silencing any conversations that had persisted despite his appearance. He made no effort to disguise the joy he clearly felt now that the moment he had waited months for was at last at hand. "Now that you fine gentlemen have all had a chance to settle in, I do believe the time has come for our entertainment to begin!" As the brothel owner addressed the crowd, his hand slowly drifted down to the junction between his prisoner's legs. Expecting this development, Elena managed to stifle any reaction as his middle finger slipped into her cunt and began to languidly stroke her insides.

"I doubt they will be entirely necessary, but I do believe some introductions are in order. I am your humble host Jacques Travei, and this delightful specimen of elven charm is none other than the infamous Elena." The captured heroine in question's heart fell as she listened to the cheer of approval that followed her new owner's proclamation. Even if she somehow managed to escape her captivity someday, she knew she would carry the shame of this night for the rest of her life. "Now, friends, you may not believe it," Jacques continued with a chuckle, "but two months past this little strumpet strolled right through those doors over there one evening and presented herself into my gentle care without so much as a fight. Who would have thought the leader of the so called free elves would get so excited by the thought of performing for the lot of you that she would simply deliver herself up?" That wasn't exactly how things had gone down, Elena mused, but it might as well have been. The crowd was eating it up, at any rate. If this kept up she could practically guarantee herself a wicked headache, not that that would rate very highly on her list of predicaments at the moment.

"Of course, being the upstanding citizen and greedy bastard most of you know and love, the very next morning I delivered Miss Elena here to the ducal palace. Once she got an audience with our illustrious Duke Armand, she was eager to tell him everything he wanted to know about her little rebel friends in between blowjobs. Now we can all rest easy knowing more and more of those miscreants are being rounded up by the day." Elena's gaze fell to the floor at that news. Obviously she couldn't know exactly how poorly her followers were faring these past months, but she had little doubt that utter defeat was imminent if it hadn't arrived already.

"But, I have even more good news. I imagine you will all be pleased to hear this pretty little thing isn't our only debutante tonight," Jacques' new proclamation grabbed Elena's wandering attention. Her sharp ears perked up and she instinctively tried to turn and look at him before the pillory binding her neck stopped the motion. Surely her fate was cruel enough already, she thought, he couldn't mean what it sounded like. "In place of his share of the bounty on our little volunteer here, his grace has magnanimously agreed to donate to the Broken Bow Brothel three of the loveliest creatures you've ever seen." Jacques gestured gratefully to the duke who sat in a comfortable chair near the stage with, a girl kneeling between his spread legs. Since his arrival half an hour before her head had bobbed slowly and quietly in his lap with precious few moments of reprieve, all the while concealing a cock Elena knew from experience to be quite prodigious. The noble raised his hand in acknowledgment of the gesture and the raucous cheer that followed it. "This trio was captured along with their entire band last week thanks to the helpful tips our little songbird here couldn't wait to share. Meet Ramira, Enna, and Zarra."

Tears began to tug at the corner of Elena's eyes when she heard Jacques list off three names. The captured heroine knew she had betrayed her followers when she broke under interrogation. She knew many of them would be killed or captured. She knew carrying the weight of her failure would torment her for the rest of her life, but she had never expected its results would be shoved in her face like this. The knowledge that three of her followers would witness her disgrace, would suffer beside her in this hell, that knowledge shattered what little was left of Elena's spirit. She watched in horror as the three captured rebels emerged from a back room, each pulled along by a brawny human with a firm grip on one of their arms.

Enna, an athletic redhead Elena had known for decades, was the first to be presented. She had been one of her subordinates since before the war and the two had been together the day their kingdom fell. Since then the veteran had proven a capable commander of her own cadre, needing little in the way of instructions. Ramira followed her commander out. Elena had only met Ramira once and briefly, but it had been easy to tell the girl was a fierce and passionate troublemaker who would never have been accepted into the old Wardens due to a stark lack of discipline. Ramira was lean with sharp features and jet black hair, but she was by far most distinctive for her tattoos. Nearly her entire body was covered in sharp, geometric patterns drawn with dark ink, a fashion popular with some of the more free spirited elven youths. Finally, Elena caught sight of Zarra whose capture was the most heartbreaking. While her eighty-two years made her an adult by elven standards, she would have been too young to be accepted for combat training before the war. But rebellion is a desperate game, so Enna had accepted the young brunette for training as a medic.

The three debutantes were greeted with a chorus of catcalls and cheering as they were presented to the vicious crowd. Ramira met their leers with a hateful glare. Zarra's face was a mess of tears. For her part, Enna wore a mast of sad stoicism. Once the crowd's reaction receded, Jacques continued with his introductions. "I imagine our fine boys in uniform had a bit of fun with these three already, but I fear they haven't been trained up to my standards of service yet. I was hoping you gentlemen might help out a bit with that training tonight, but be warned, they're still feral so I recommend you avoid the teeth." Laughter rang out around the room at the jest and the comically exaggerated biting motion with which Jacques accented it, but Elena was convinced it was sound advice at least when it came to Ramira.

Jacques continued to toy with Elena's cunt while he waited for the crowd to quiet before resuming. Despite herself, the pinned warrior could feel her body starting to respond to his experienced fingers and she had to struggle to remain still. "Before we proceed to the main event," Jacques declared once he was satisfied he would be heard "there is just one more thing you all might like to hear. Now, everyone knows how hard it is to knock these pointy eared sluts up, but what most of you may not be aware of is that when elves breed they require a special herbal tonic that turns them into fertile little fuckbunnies." Elena's eyes widened as a hush of anticipation fell over the room. Jacques wasn't entirely correct, elven women did naturally become fertile once or twice a century. Still, he was right that the traditional drink given to couples who wanted a child practically guaranteed fertility by priming the woman's body to release an egg the next time she climaxed.

"As it happens, I found a few bottles of that tonic back when we were looting their precious forest, and last night I decided to empty one into little Elena here's soup." Ice gripped the captured heroine's broken heart and the man's words seemed to fade into the distance as she struggled to process what he was saying. For an elven woman there could be no greater shame than to be bred by a member of another species, such a pollution of their sacred bloodline was unthinkable. For as long as their history recorded, any elf who had a child with an outsider had been cast out regardless of status, gender, or past deeds. They and their child would be shunned forever by the entirety of society. If Jacques was telling the truth and these humans succeeded in planting one of their children in her womb, then even if she was able to escape their clutches there would be no chance of ever returning home, let alone rallying what was left of her people.

Elena wasn't sure how long Jacques continued speaking while the future that lay before her played out in her mind, only returning to her senses in time to catch the last, chilling line of his speech. "what say you all we celebrate the conquest the elves by conquering their last heroine's womb?" The roar of approval at Jacques' suggestion was so loud the brothel's windows rattled in their frames. Elena realized if she wanted to escape the fate her new owner meant to force upon her she had scant little time to do so. As if on cue for the end of the speech, the captive rebel began to thrash wildly against the restraints of her pillory, seriously testing its strength for the first time since she had been put in it.

"Well, I think we have one vote against!" Jacques announced, withdrawing his hand from between Elena's thighs in order to accentuate his jest with a healthy slap of her rear. The crowd's roaring turned to callous laughter at their fallen enemy's plight. Elena shut her eyes tight, knowing that if she looked out at the crowd her view would inevitably fall upon one of her kin and that whatever she found in their face, pity or scorn, would break her.

"Please, you can't, I... I don't want..." Elena tried to plead with Jacques, but between the pillory trapping her throat and the noise of the crowd, her trembling voice seemed little more than a whisper even to her own pointy ears. She doubted even the bouncers around the stage could hear her, only her master and the fellow captive who had knelt silently at his side throughout the entire speech were near enough to have a chance. For the most part the captured warrior welcomed the small mercy that few present would be able to hear her shameful begging, though her other struggles were obvious to all. Everyone present could see how her fine ass and toned legs wiggled and pushed this way and that in vain desperation to free herself from the pillory.