Tales of Decadence - Dark Elf Town Ch. 08

In the farmhouse next door, Chik'fi was happily noting his fertility and virility for more milkable cow girls, pregnant with more holstaurus and minotaur calf-babies for Chik'fi to spoil and love. Back in the barn-turned-apartment, Karl and Garnet had locked lips, softly moving on the bed with Karl raising his buttocks and slamming down as the bed creaked.

*-*-*-*

Sleeping cuddled with a Holstaurus...

A monstergirl with cow ears, and a body that was soft as cotton candy, yet so strong. Karl lost track of time, again.

Her milky-smelling breasts were big as melons and soft like pillows of royalty, suckable nipples soft and light pink, areolae light brown and flawless. He wasn't surprised when Garnet even offered him to suckle, her body full of maternal hormones and lust when she let him inside her thighs.

"You flatter me, young man..." Sighed Garnet, cuddling the spent, exhausted, and thoroughly fucked, poor man in her arms. "I bet you overdid this wild night's sex just to spoil me..."

"Surely you'll give me a daughter with this night's performance!" Garnet's smile was teary from joy. "I'd be honored to take you as a husband, as soon as we all can scrape up our freedom price. Even though I am nearly a hundred, you would live your life with me?"

When Karl replied with a very weak nod, Garnet kissed her deeply, crying from joy.

Chik'fi had brought a prime stud. Let the new ones, older men please her daughters from now on, Karl would be a fine new stud, husband, and stepfather for her daughters, even though it wasn't incest...she figured she had to share the overworked man with her daughters.

Her womb full of energy and power, her soul calmed from sex, Garnet pulled him to her arms and slept together in bliss.

*-*-*-*

The sun sank over the horizon, placid, naked minotaur and holstaur girls kissed and cuddled the farmhands, naked boys, and girls milking their breasts in buckets, some openly copulating them on the verdant greenery as passersby ignored them, some chatting amongst themselves.

One by one, whistles and clock bells rang, signaling the seventh hour where most labor slaves were released from their bonds to eat, rest and socialize, eventually sleep. Those who lived in households were no different than family, and tavern wenches and men who served monstergirls by entertainment had their hours.

The mill owners lined up the exhausted, sweat covered slaves and marched them into the public showers where the naked women could wash the grime and dirt, and be marched back to their cells and locked up after being fed. Endless lines of chain-gangs of naked women already started their trek back to their mess halls, and cells. The restraints were strong, for the mill slaves were well taken care of, and were often very strong themselves.

The dark elves took no chance at ropes. Chains for the heavy labor slaves, and ankle locks until they would be secure at their cells. Their nakedness was glorified by irons restraining them, faces stoic, some blushing, some sad, some angry, naked women sighing as they were led to their dinner and what passes for their free time. Sunday was a long way to go.

*-*-*-*

"Mistress will be pleased."

As the sun set and night stars began their appearance in the skies, the glassblower's factory started to slow down, Kirsten kept blowing on soft, red-hot glass orbs, pincers working diligently at the final craft of today. Her perfectly sculpted ass dripped with sweat, her beautiful legs blackened by soot, her back sporting welts from her earlier whipping.

The poor tomboy squealed in terror, almost dropping her work when she heard the clicks of high heels behind her. Her owner, her mistress came to talk. That either meant something horrible, or she wanted something.

"I love watching you work, Kirsten. Looks like you finally found something to channel your energy productively."

Kirsten swallowed and didn't dare turn her head as she left the finished artwork, a Snail with a rose on top of its shell; the ornament would sell quite well to her Mistress' friends.

"Look at me."

Kirsten's look was one of abject terror, meeting her owner, Mistress Phalyx's gaze of bored amusement. The dark elf was reaching her race's "middle-aged" phase, several centuries old now, dressed in her usual tight leather attire, her big, pointy ears adorned with jewels and her hair tied up in a wild bun with several daggers used for it. The monster woman crossed her arms, smiling ominously.

"Something wrong, Kirsten?"

"N-no, mistress!" Poor redhead still looked down, unable to meet her gaze fully. She was still terrified about what happened last time, inwardly swearing never to attempt any escape in her life.

"Then why are you all shy and terrified like that?" The Dark Elf raised her brows. "I am merely taking you back to your cell for food, cleaning, and sleep, that's it."

Kirsten shook as she exhaled; even her slave chains draped around her exhausted, naked body rattled, making Phalyx chuckle again. "Can't have my best money making slave gone astray, Kirsten. Now, stay still, arms behind your back."

Kirsten immediately complied, mentally surrendering to avoid any pain or displeasure. Phalyx personally had whipped her several hundred times over the months and told her if she'd ever attempt escape, the dark elf would have her be sold to a dark fate, ranging from an evil pyramid whose servant Anubis girls were rumored to mummify unwilling human girls to enslave them forever, to vampires that would slit her throat hanging from a ceiling to provide for a fancy vampire meeting. Although none of these were true and would definitely bring the wrath of the Succubus Empress, dark elves pulled no punches when it came to manipulation and threats. That had made Kirsten bawl like a young girl and beg for forgiveness, utterly broken and hugging her scowling owner that fateful day.

Smiling, Phalyx walked out with a confident stride and locked Kirsten's wrists behind her back with a satisfying click. Looking her in the eye, the dark elf smiled, bent over and slapped Kirsten's ass as hard as she could, and motioned her to follow.

"You are much calmer and obedient when you finally channelize your energy to proper, honest work rather than banditry."

"Yes, mistress."

"Follow me, Eat up and wash, then I have a surprise for you, Kirsten."

*-*-*-*

The older slaves of Phalyx' household sighed watching Kirsten eat. Unlocked from her shackles, the redheaded tomboy plopped down on the floor after a long, painful scrubbing, still naked, and barely drying, not even bothering to cover herself as she ate like a pig. Seeing her scarf down the food, the old women sighed, gossiping. Many were born in the Reik, having more or less amicable relationships with their mistresses and many having children setting up families as free citizens buying their freedom:

"Poor thing, mistress never lets her wear anything."

"What's she done? Heard she is the best glassblower earning three times more than other craft slaves on a bad day."

"Heard she escaped and got caught. Missus takes real offense to that."

The older matrons were very quiet after that, consoling the naked tomboy devouring the dinner set before her before she would be locked away for the night.

But there was a surprise in the large, barred room she was led by her leash. Her mistress' most handsome human slave, the brown-haired young man, sat on her bed, wearing nothing.

"Oh my God..."

"Goddess, more like." Phalyx smiled, leading her inside. "Have fun."

They were in each other's arms and kissing before Phalyx even locked the door, leaving for her mansion and leaving the slaves to cook and sleep. Her slave didn't know the honor. Phalyx only bred her finest slaves to keep in her household. Besides, nursing a child or two would tame and bind the redhead to her household.

*-*-*-*

It was a known fact that the slave mines were part mines, part sapphic prison bondage camps with discipline, serving as both economic and sexual revenue for dark elves; former mine slaves made excellent city laborers and slave wives when they would be re-sold after a few years. And dark elves got to play their control fantasies over the miner women.

And that day, when the sun set over the horizon, a whistle blared, an endless throng of nude women let out a long symphony of relaxed groans, dropping their pickaxes with an endless rattle into the communal tool shed they shambled past for the communal shower and scrubbing themselves, and in many cases, each other with a show of tenderness born out of misery loving company. Too tired to cover their bodies or bully each other, the miner slaves, having nothing to hide from each other due to compulsory nudity, would simply wash up, and line up for dinner; bland, but extremely healthy porridge and vegetables topped up with a slice of some nondescript meat or boiled egg depending on the day. Lining up with their wooden spoons and bowls, the endless throng of athletic beauties in collars and cuffs would get their dinner, sit in circles around jugs of water (and beer if the quota was exceeded), eating in silence.

The evening inspections were especially humiliating. Every mine slave was to be shaven bald: head, armpits, groin, and anus would be feverishly groped, pinched, fingered, and inspected by smiling dark elven sluts who lined the women every evening with harsh orders, legs spread and arms raised. Every mine slave was subject to a cavity search every shift's end, and a quick shave and rubdown, ordered to be perfectly still exposing every part of her body until a slap on her ass would send the slave to curl up in the communal cages to rest, often falling asleep from fatigue. One of the overseers smiled when she noticed two of the mining slaves hugging and kissing each other to sleep in the communal cage in sapphic joy and bliss, caressing each other's shaven heads.

Karin #493 kept a blank stare, eyes forward, arms locked behind her head and legs spread, every inch of her shaven body feeling the helplessness. Her growing breasts were softly squeezed by the overseer who took notes, dropped a medication on Karin's tongue, and wrote a number on her breast much to her arousal and surprise.

"Go to your cage and sleep." The leather-clad dark elf commanded. Eager to blend in, the human replied.

"Yes, mistress."

"Good." The dark elf, barely a few years older than her, nodded and took a note.

A sea of naked women sleeping close, sighing, and occasionally snoring was before her when she snuck in, settling on the sea of sleeping furs and straw mattresses and amongst the naked bodies.

She found a spot, eager to warm herself, not even protesting when another sleepy mine slave, a slightly older woman, held her breasts with both hands behind her and spooned her with her warm, soft body.

"Slave 494!" The overseer cracked her leather whip in the air to shake the shivering Roda. "Report to Zuya's office and your new owner. You are sold."

*-*-*-*

"Alright, stop bawling, human weakling, you are out. Seriously, you are supposed to be happy. Kinako is a stately fox-woman who wanted a maid like you."

Zuya was annoyed. Newcomer Humans were often crybabies when it came to being a slave, having to be beaten out of it sometimes. And Rosa who had the good fortune to be bought from the mines by a compassionate, old fox-woman of the Zipangu species called Kitsune was bawling and sniffling her eyes out when she was given some basic grey clothes and told to live with the beautiful monster lady, who smiled and embraced her stubble of a fresh hair and rubbed her face with her amazing, fluffy, fragrant tails.

Zuya liked their softer appearance but hated humans' emotional weaknesses. She, like all dark elves, kept the possibility of captivity and slavery just like another aspect of life. If she was captured in a skirmish with another monster clan or humans, she would accept whatever fate they had in store for her, forcing herself to please her captor and make the best of it. Her race had a very casual view on the trade, some daughters who, despite years of introspection would give up on looking mean and dominant, and accept to be sold as slaves to enrich the family.

"There. One week and some nice lady wants to take you home, now stop crying and look forward to the future." She sneered, counting the Kitsune woman's coins, smiling politely and striking Rosa's list out of the slave ledger. "All yours, Lady Kinako. She is a little of a crybaby but decent housemaid."

Zuya sneered when she saw the young girl almost skipping, holding the Kitsune woman's strangely furred-hand, walking like her daughter at her side.

*-*-*-*

The day had ended. Phalyx smirked, hearing Kirsten's rhythmic moans and squeals with the bed creaks coming from the dormitory, went home to her slave husband and many serving women, some of whom fathered children playing with her dark elf kids, sharing Phalyx' husband. A couple passed her by, a very happy looking human girl wearing a humble white cotton dress and walking arm-in-arm with a middle-aged, motherly monster lady, a Kitsune with many tails poking out of her voluminous kimono. The girl seemed to be a newcomer, someone who had been a mine slave for some time judging from her clean-shaven head and fading ink tattoo of a pickaxe on her skull.

The stores closed one by one, monstergirl owners and their human slaves, maids and lovers lowering the shutters, slave markets' "goods" covered with blankets to sleep, nude, muscular "chain-dogs", female human criminals given asylum for guard duty lazily strolled, patrolling the streets. A naked, muscular, lithe redhead (whose hair was nearly shaven bald) smoked a cigarette, sharing with a sleepy, unsold slave in her cage, sitting with her knee up showing her shaven slit with "GUARD SLAVE" tattooed on her pelvis, wearing only leather boots and a truncheon on her belt to keep weapons. Chain-dogs were nude during warm nights, at cold nights they'd be given clothes, grateful just to be alive for crimes they'd be dead in Lescatie.

Passing through the city gardens, Phalyx noticed lines of naked young women with shears and bagfuls of cut weeds wrapping up the day's work. Mostly younger, more docile adventurers and captives, the youthful faces were tired, marched in a long line by a bored-looking dark elf who made them stash their tools in a shed before lining up under the public showers to wash off the day's dirt. Their overseer, the dark elf stretched herself before shedding her leather outfit, joining the city slaves, to scrub and caress the day's worries away.

Phalyx smiled, the girls were quite intimate with each other, apparently used to being publicly naked, and pretty much ignored her as they took the sponge and soaps lined up near the steel showerheads and started cleaning themselves up. They were mostly young and not well endowed, though one or two showed some musculature.

"Hmph. Not breeders' hips. Lescatie must be really poor not to take care of its soldiers." Phalyx mused, watching the blonde girls form a circle to scrub each others' scalps, while their overseer, a taller, slender dark elf used her hands to scrub and massage their soreness, ebon hands kneading barely formed breasts, eliciting sighs and shy giggles.

After several minutes, the overseer combed her own hair, motioning the girls to put on the hobbling manacles on their ankles, and herded the girls to a brick dormitory with the smell of good food emanating, strong enough to make Phalyx hungry. Kneeling to check the cuffs on each girl's ankle, patting them down for dryness(and paying extra attention to squeeze the slaves' butts and breasts), the overseer pushed them inside, locking the door, and took up her clothes, and with a curt nod to Phalyx, headed on home with a happy whistle.

"Evening, Guildmistress!" The dark elf was her distant relative, taller than Phalyx, taller than the girls but quite skinny, with large, almond eyes that shone blue, an unusual trait.

"Evening Overseer, girls give you any trouble?" Phalyx walked with her until they'd part ways.

"A little at first. Once they realized no one pays them any attention and they could be free to do whatever they could without Human laws, they come around. Mother wants to adopt the black one, with the curly hair to the household as a slave maid. She was the strongest when we fought."

"Worried about keeping the one you fought, Overseer?" Phalyx rose a brow, as the slender dark elf's ears stretched to her sides."

"On the contrary, I'd love to break her in. You noticed she keeps shunning being washed by hand. How is it with your redhead you had spent too much to tame?" She grinned, eliciting a laugh from Phalyx.

"I realized all the strong-headed ones need is good sex, and fetishes fulfilled. I chained her up so tastefully a fairy artist paid me to paint her likeness, chains and all. Now I gave her a stud boy and reap the profits from all the glass sculptures she makes. I pray to the Goddess some maternity might tame her for good once she is properly bred."

"Aw!" The overseer cooed. "Humans make cute babies! Call me once she gets pregnant and we'll throw up a baby shower to cheer her up!"

They politely parted ways, going to their respective homes. Hellhound girls, dog type mamono with flaming eyebrows, faces, and nostrils lazily patrolled the streets, sniffing the air for runaways and lazing around.

Naked human women plowed the fields, sowed the earth, and mined, worked, crafted, ground the wheat and baked, and sweated, worked, fucked, and rested every day. Every day, lines of naked men and women entered the city in chains, led by dark elves coming victorious from raids or skirmishes, big pointy ears wiggling with joy.

A dark elven city was often a mysterious, dangerous, and captivating place. Many more would enter the city in chains, some would leave, some would stay, some would be freed and stay as citizens.

Such was the dark elves' way. Mysterious, sensual, captivating.

p.s

Due to severe workload in real life and moving in to a new house, I was overtaxed. Soon, several more stories will be available, almost 4 drafts are nearing completion. To any followers who thought I died, I survived the virus so far. Put the masks on and keep your distance, just in case.