Tributes to the Dark Elves

Tributes to the Dark Elves:

Inside the Dark Forest, a medley of small human towns and cities lay outside Human Empire's control in the form of a Duchy. As fortune would have it, it was separated from the larger human lands by a huge swath of Monstergirl Empire territory, also known as the Reik The Duchy was too distant and liberal for the theocracy of the Human Empire to absorb without a bloody war, and sadly was surrounded by Dark Elven holdings all around.

The succubus empress hated war, having passed from a world plagued by it and taking over the charge of the non-human sentient species. She had killed the last Monster Lord and changed the "liminal" species, also known as monsters, to females, so she had instructed the dark-elven queen to avoid war and solve the issue in another way. The dark elves, vicious as they are, could have defied her and conquered the duchy by force, had they been stuck in the past.

So the duchy was forced to be a tributary.

The dark elves would receive tribute from the human duchy every year: advanced tools, textiles, and complex goods.

However, being what they are, the dark elven queendom would also extract a second type of tribute.

Slaves.

The dark elves' underground city Chel'drai needed human slaves. Men as "lovers" and occasional servants, women as servants, and occasional lovers. The dark elves had dwarven women as slaves as well but said slaves, being monsters like the Svartalf themselves also needed human essence and were good only for digging and mining.

Hearing that her people will be harvested and taken underground to toil for her overlords, the duchess' pleaded for mercy in tears, rarely shed by a noblewoman of her status for lowly peasants. Such a display softened the dark-elven queen's gentle heart(who herself had given birth to a daughter just last month), and with misty eyes, agreed to a compromise.

The tribute quota would limit itself to the duchy's criminals and poor volunteers first. If the quota wasn't met, the dark elves' warrior women and merchants would pick through families for suitable youths, avoiding force when necessary: one youth per family until the quota was satisfied. Moreover, the dark elves would maintain a small embassy on the city's outskirts to observe and monitor human families for susceptibility to seduction, as well as accept human volunteers into slavery for guaranteed food and shelter, as rare as it may be (but happened anyway) due to poverty.

As a sign of the Dark Elven Queen's merciful dominance rule over the human duchy, the tribute collectors would, in return, bring exotic medicines to human lands deemed too heretical and promise help in famines and disease, allowing her people to be fruitful and multiply as much as possible. Furthermore, a dark-elven maid would be given to the Duchess as her servant and wetnurse for her babies, who would, in turn, send her oldest son to be married to the oldest dark-elven princess for closer relations, and a future peaceful merger.

The tribute collectors would be mostly the youngest Svartalf from the overcrowded subterranean city led by the most experienced Svartalvar and one surface dark elf guide. This was to help the young ones see humans up close in their natural habitat and to gain experience in slave handling. Of course, it was expected of some young dark elves to settle on the surface to get rid of excess population, whether marriage with humans, surface residence, or even becoming slaves themselves in surface monster cities, allowing some poor or submissive elflings to support their families back home.

It was Autumn.

The tribute was due.

*-*-*-*

DARK ELVEN TRADE OUTPOST "SSINRIG"

The tribute party was to have their last night of rest before getting to work in human lands. Beautiful, curvaceous, black-skinned, platinum-white-haired beauties emerged from the cave entrance in a long line, bearing weapons, backpacks, and traveling gear in a loose line, eyes widening in wonder at the surface. The atmosphere was joyous, the monster girls chatting with each other about their great adventure after getting a night's party. The dark elf younglings had all their hair made for the trip, bound in beautiful patterns, and colorful beads added for fun, and wearing their most beautiful, lewd armor and clothes for showing off and enjoyment. Nearly all of them wore sets of armor, leather bottoms being little more than sexy thongs with silvery edges and protection runes around the pelvis. Some wore functional yet revealing plate mails, and skimpy wizard robes, the youngest ones even adorning their clothes with badges of cute, fuzzy animal faces sewn into the fabrics.

The older members leading the expedition wore more conservative, dour armor suits and looked grim. Inwardly, they were cringing at the thought of leading these younglings to the surface who treated it like a fun adventure.

But Chel'drai was overcrowded this century: some population had to be sent aboveground for a considerable amount of time until their dwarven slaves, monstergirls subjugated below, could dig up more free land. Worse, all monstergirls needed human men to breed with and survive, and the dwarven slave women were losing productivity along with their mistresses. Bereft of human essence -semen, breath, sweat, colloquially known as "Chi"-, even other monstergirl slaves the Svartalvar had were becoming weak and sickly.

"It's my first time on the surface!" One young dark elven female quipped, almost skipping, eyes squinted at the sun and her huge ears sinking in alarm at the sudden glare. She didn't think the sun would be such a bright ball of light. "So these humans will give up slaves without a fight?"

"Yes", replied her friend who was just one year her senior, "We have a deal with them. We take the criminals, debtors, some willing, or the...umm..." She scratched her pointy ear, almond eyes squinting as she tried to formulate her thoughts, "...least resisting ones." It was difficult to focus: fragrant flowers were everywhere!

"Some won't resist?" The youngest amongst them quipped, twirling her wicked-looking, purple-silvery dagger in one hand, an arrogant saunter marking her inexperience and over-enthusiasm. "They volunteer?"

"Well, we have slavery among us, don't we? Some of our kin are submissives..." Her friend tried to rationalize, as the group's only wizard, an older dark elf turned her head to address them. She had been busy trying to examine surface mushrooms on trees:

"Humans are natural slaves, fit for disciplined, mundane labor and breeding. Some of them will inevitably accept their fate. Our job is to make sure they get picked most so the rest won't go feral like last century." She meant the Lescatian Crusades that nearly exterminated monstergirls in the West.

"Beats fighting and killing." Another dark elf agreed, sighing. "I love humans, they make the best slaves but we need more. Not many human men laid with our human women this decade... Even their kids are cute and fun to play with!" Her smile widened, pearly teeth gleaming brighter than her hair. "I am saving up to get a human man! Maybe a girl for a house servant."

"You are getting your own house?" Her friend blinked, who was just lost in the fascination of the beauty of the surface woods before she heard her friend's aspirations for a new home.

"Yeah!" The young drowling grinned, her voice full of hope and confidence. "I'm moving out of my mother's mansion to the surface. I know it's a big house... but I want to leave Chel'drai. The other mamono on the surface have so much to see. Not just slaves: humans that don't mind seeing us, talking to us. Other races don't hate us anymore! At least, that much."

"You think they'll be O.K with you living on the surface with slaves?" Her friend had used the new human idiom instead of "alright"; the airheaded dark elven cuties were infected with the virus of culture already... To speak nothing of the fact they were speaking Common rather than the flowery Svartalf tongue, their grandmothers would throw fits!

"Some won't mind. I heard of a human city that has allowed slavery and allows monstergirl residence." She shrugged. "I heard some humans even volunteer! Imagine a household with my husband, some female bedmates for spicier nights...maids...Exotic imports...Surface spices, salads, and fruits at every meal and sunbathing with all my slaves...A girl can dream..." She sighed. "If I eat another mushroom bread or drink mushroom beer, I'll kill myself!"

"The tributes go to the slave market though..." Her friend replied, looking at a vendor, a little goblin girl selling dried surface fruits in colorful bundles. "You have to be a sergeant at least to take your first pick of a slave with discount. Otherwise, you pay the full price or buy yourself *after* the Tribute March."

They stood before the bathhouse, dozens of young, enthusiastic dark elves with twinkles in their eyes, hope for the future, and empty cages.

And hunger for human slaves, of course.

*-*-*-*

The Svartalvar were experts in subverting the sun's rays, storing, and keeping their surface holdings lit in a luminosity that wasn't painful to their eyes. The tree canopies hid the sun's already dimming glare as summer passed into autumn, keeping the pleasure outpost Ss'inrig, situated just a mile away from the entrance into the underground metropolis to Chel'drai, the Dark Elves' capital, in a perpetual silvery twilight. It was constructed several hundred years ago as a waystation for resting after the long trek from underground and evolved into a hub for processing, healing, counseling, and trading of captives and slaves before the best pick of the slaves was sent underground where they'd work for and please their dark elf mistresses.

The outpost, built inside and around the massive trees, above and below ground was a forest paradise. From a distance to inexperienced eyes, it was a barely visible deformation shaped out of trees, much like a dome of thickets. Inside, it was a spa, trading center, slave market, holiday resort, and infirmary, all in one.

Small buildings were carved out of magically shaped trees, adorned painstakingly with purple-and-gold ornaments, crystals, and bioluminescent vines, giving them an alien beauty beyond this world. The marketplace in the center of the outpost was small, cozy, and built from purple bricks whose formula was only known to the Svartalvar. The vendors had a decent variety of goods, Nishari noted.

Arachne citizens, ladies with their spidery bodies sat on comfortable fur rugs and had their silks and silken clothing on display for sale. A few Danuki merchants, monster girls with human bodies, raccoon extremities, and beastly ears had set up a stall where everything across the world, from obscure artifacts to human spellbooks, from Zhong jade jewelry to Bharati spices was for sale...for a high price.

The party realized why the Queen sent them for tribute.

The small slave market, usually busy since many monster races came to buy servants or studs(and some humans to pay out and free their kin), was nearly empty. The slave trader matron didn't even have an accounting slave, traditionally an intelligent human, high elf, or dark-elven woman with a white loincloth, silver shackles, and glasses who would handle wealthier dark-elven nobles' finances.

All the slaves that remained in the outpost were busy working: just a few human women with content, blushing faces with shy expressions from being forced to work naked. They all looked very healthy, well-fed, and clean, owing to the dark elves' bathhouses in their off-duty time. Two young human slave women with white headscarves covering their hair were busy sweeping the streets, a mature peasant woman in her mid-40s with a broom which made her plump breasts jiggle with every move, the other on all fours, wiping the grime with a bucket of water and a large towel with both hands. Her butt shook with every move, the right cheek tattooed with the word "slave", both slaves politely nodding and making way for the party with bright smiles.

"Excuse me..." A tomboyish, pale redhead muttered, carrying a huge bundle of firewood on her back and hurrying past them into the bakery, her ankle cuffs fit with bells and only wearing a mere rag loincloth to cover her privates. Her arse was tattooed with a bread sign, suggesting her station well enough, with sweat running across her back and past her strong, toned legs, her big, freckled breasts slapping her chest as she ran.

"They seem real short on hands here..." The dark elven leader muttered. "Hope to Goddess the tribute will help out. Poor humans work hard as it is."

The slave merchant, an elderly, kind yet strict-looking dark elven matron sat on her chair, overlooking a cage with just five slaves. A young man and four adult human women sat naked in a large cage, ankles chained loosely. The young man rested his chin on one raised knee, spreading one leg submissively with a blush and a shy look at the party looking at him. His large penis dangled flaccidly between his legs, its base fitted with a snug leather ring and a price tag. His youthful figure, exotic blond hair, and face were quite attractive to monsterized dark elves, with more than a few staring at the man with grins, and getting a shy blush in return. The dark elves seeing his penis quickly harden, likely because of them passing by bit their lips and chuckled.

Three women were nude, blindfolded, and gagged with their legs spread on their knees, hands tightly bound behind them in the ultimate pose of submission. Their perfect pose, small breasts, and athletic bodies suggested they might have been freshly captured adventuresses or prisoners of war who had no ransom money: good for mining or heavy labor, bodies shaved bald and limbs harshly secured against escape; not trusted enough to relax, and worth being bought as a slave bodyguard.

The fourth was a shy, smiling, plump human woman with sparkling green eyes, short, spiky hair, and a curvy figure, sitting in a relaxed pose, spreading her legs with one arm leaning on the cage's wooden wall, resting another hand on one knee, her pink slit exposed for viewing. She smiled at the passing dark elves, hoping one of them would give her a home to work in. One of the younger, naive dark elves smiled and waved back, appreciating her beauty. The slave on sale had plump breasts with brown, large nipples with a price tag attached; the soft, pale mounds jiggled with every move she made.

The Svartalf younglings idly looked at the "goods", naked, restrained humans before heading to the bathhouse and sleeping in the tavern. The slave merchant didn't even raise her head from her accounting book, knowing the younglings were off to collect more humans to sell, they didn't have the money or time to buy one. Although once she was out of sight, she raised her head and covertly threw a glance at some of the prettier, younger dark elves, watching their round hips sway, and listened to their conversations: It never hurt to acquire some dark elven submissives: surfacers paid well for exotic dark elf slaves, and the underground city crowded enough as it is, business was business...

For submissive poor dark elven girls, it was one way to find a human male(and outlive him)... For some manipulative ones, it was a way to enter the bed of a human leader, and weep and make doe-eyes to become a trophy wife without toiling. And outlive to become a shadow ruler of small human settlements, of course.

"At last, sisters!" The leader chimed joyfully. "Let's soak the worries away before setting off for tomorrow!"

The wooden door to the steamy bathhouse opened, revealing a garishly dressed Lamia and Arachne, a snake- and spider-woman greeting them with smiles and a twinkle in their eyes. Each wore white robes cut for their body measurements, fastened with gold-threaded belts that made them look like out of an old Helleo-Ermorean painting.

"Welcome, ladies!" The Lamia bowed. "We were informed of your arrival in advance; our girls were hard at work firing the baths." The spidery Arachne bowed as well, waving a delicate hand inside.

"Our slaves will tend to your worries and the traveler's dirt. Let us handle the pecuniary matters..."

A party of several dozen dark elf girls coming for a complete treatment of snacks, bath, and sex would be a good day's deal for the bathhouse. The leader of the dark elves, the eldest Nishari rolled her eyes, taking out her purse of silver full of coins engraved with a spider figure.

*-*-*-*

"Welcome, mistresses!" The naked bath slaves spoke in unison, bowing before the grinning dark elves as a sea of wet, oiled, curved bodies wearing steel collars around their necks.

Young human women and a few young, soft-looking young men, greeted them; nude except for collars around their necks, the slaves were all stunningly attractive, though mostly the local white human stock, though Nishari could see a black girl and a dusky one from Araby among the greeters.

It was a good way of relaxing before the long trek to and from the human duchy to gather slaves.

The slaves beckoned inside a large dressing room, with towels and slippers. Already eager, the dark elven party started removing what little lewd armor they wore, piling them in a large basket to be washed, polished, and cleaned. Leather thongs with chainmail bikini tops rattled as they piled up, and boots were politely removed by young human women kneeling before them. It was pleasantly dominating to let them do so, letting the humans remove their boots slowly before fitting cute, pink rubber slippers with bunny ears.

Now nude, the dark elven girls were led by the slaves into the bath.

A massive, subterranean chamber carved out of marble bedrock stood before them, steam making everything nearly invisible. Small bottles of surface wine, plates with cheese, and fruits were laid next to the chest-high hot bath, making the most prudish amongst them squee and giggle, the bath slaves smiling as they led them to soak.

"There's even walnuts and apricots! They cost so much underground!!!" A young dark elf who had seen the surface for the first time, chimed happily, sinking into the water and motioning her attendant, a gentle-looking, young blonde girl for wine. The naked slave girl blushed as she handed her the goblet; she was fascinated with this young, upstart, black-skinned exotic creature, a beautiful elf who could do anything she wanted to her. Nishari looked at both girls, shaking her head and chuckling before motioning for a young girl to massage her shoulders and a blond boy to sit at the edge of the pool and present his already erect cock to suck. She remembered the young drowling's name: Kairi, barely thirty-six years old, young for a dark elf.

Kairi took the goblet, and leaned against the pool's edge, trying a walnut and a piece of cheese and washed them down with wine in greedy gulps. Then her eyes wandered to her attendant. The blonde girl looked even younger than her, now gently washing Kairi's shoulders and free arm with a sweet-smelling soapy towel. Their eyes met, the blonde slave girl biting her lips and looking away with a blush, focusing her gaze on the dark elf's arms and away from her breasts.

Kairi, letting the girl rub her arms for a moment, stopped smiling, then grinned. Reaching a hand to softly turn the girl's jaw to face her, she started to study the human's face. Her skin was so white, white as alabaster, plump red lips rousing the young dark elf. The rest of the girl's body was equally tantalizing. Soft, small breasts, a flat, flabby belly, and a shaven pussy could be seen through the misty air of the bathhouse, each part making the inexperienced underground-dwelling dark elf youth warm inside.

"Well..."

With a knowing smile, Kairi slowly pulled the pale slave girl towards her. Without even asking, the white human girl leaned forward, her lips touching the dark elf's own.