Tributes to the Dark Elves Pt. 02

Upstairs, Melasa oversaw the entire city, stretching naked on her terrace, sprawled on the most luxurious bed imaginable. It was the baby's seventh month of good health, an auspicious day in Dark Elven culture: a sign that child mortality, even present in the age of magical healing and advancing society, was passed. Now, she could relax and drink. She was surrounded by a dozen human slaves, two fanning her slowly, two feeding her fruit and wine, two massaging her feet after a long walk of assessing her kingdom, the other six were sprawled around in post-sex bliss; she had commanded the girls to lie with the boys, which they did with gusto for a six-some sex show right in front of her. One couple was still going at it slowly, the young man keeping his partner's legs on his shoulders, the young woman, a dusky brunette from the tribute collection gasping and licking her lips as her partner kissed her and stuck his tongue in her throat, pounding her cunt for all he was worth.

The baby was downstairs in the nursery, a human slave woman nursing her with her prodigious breasts while the dark elven nanny waited to play and bond with the baby, preparing small, magical runestones with a small stylus to cast shiny cantrips to make the new princess laugh.

The birth had been a bit difficult, yet it was a healthy girl, seven pounds, and two sparkliest, shiniest purple orbs that graced the room, suggesting prodigious magical talent in her eyes. She was already assigned two wetnurses, a Svartalf and a human one, to bond and empathize with humans and dark elves at the same time.

"Fruit, mistress?" A pale, young human girl, naked like the rest, knelt at her bedside, offering a plate. She wore a small steel collar on her neck and nothing else, her red hair shaven short and treated with ointments, both for aesthetic appeal to make it spiky, and to treat potential lice. She pinched the girl's cheek, making her smile, and munching on several iced bunches of fruits as a refreshment.

"Wine, mistress?" A young man, naked like the girl, stood at her other side, face red as his erection almost touched the iced tray of wines and fruit juices. The queen grinned at his reaction and took a goblet full of wine, intentionally brushing her elbow at his throbbing cockhead. The way he flinched was amusing, Melasa thought. Taking a deep breath, she smiled.

"Hand me my binoculars, slave."

"Yes, mistress." The spiky, haired redhead put down the fruit plate and handed her the golden binoculars with a long ivory handle.

Melasa stretched up, instructing the redhead to prop her up with a pillow, and looked down.

Her queendom was growing, living standards were going up, and the sky was the limit.

Said standards were of her people, of course: now nearly every dark elf had at least one human slave to make her daily life easier. Even middle-class households had a human slave to clean up when the (dark-elven) woman of the house was out at work, and please the human husband if either one was lonely. Much like a sister-wife, older human women bought by working-class dark elves were getting along very well with them, such relationship triangles were relaxing for all and even brought new children the poor human widows didn't have on the surface, the Interior Minister told the queen.

Melasa made a note that such children born in dark elven houses should be counted as adopted children of the dark elven wife, and their mistreatment be counted as same as mistreating free Svartalf children.

Speaking of children, the cute dark elflings provoked adoring reactions in human slave women, and with the last tribute, cheap human nannies were easily available, who loved taking care of dark elven babies. That would ensure her people would establish closer bonds with human women as "wean mothers" who would raise their babies and let the mother focus on her career.

Every dark elven citizen could be seen with at least one, naked, mostly white, chained human following them everywhere, carrying their daily purchases, taking notes of their words, even cleaning their shoes when they sat down for tea in one of the Cheldrai's many cafes and pleasure houses, parking their slaves on comfy pillows set for their tender human knees as they served their mistress and get hand-fed in return. Let no one say her people didn't care for their property, cheap ointments for slave feet and knees were ubiquitous. The city even had "buy one get one free" tickets for massage parlors for dark elves to let their slaves relax after a day of hard work together with their owners.

The guild houses were bustling with trade, rows of slave human women laboring with perfect coordination (and motivation by the whip or paddle if they slacked off) under dark elven overseers guiding them with carrots, and sometimes regrettably, sticks. Already the textile mills were producing bale after bale by the minute; at this rate, even the lowliest slave could be issued a skirt and loincloth(not that they would be except for decency for minors around), rows of naked, shaven women with their feet shackled to the mills, weaving and producing non-stop for her people.

The streets were cleaner than ever. Horses and mules could finally be removed from streets, away to the city outskirts and sunny surface farmlands. Instead, "Ponygirls" were used, strong young human women were yoked like horses, knowing not to dirty the streets. It was a harsh type of slavery, and for the poor girls, the whips and harnesses were magically modified to give pleasure rather than pain to make their life of pulling loads like animals a bit more bearable.

Now the city had so many slaves that every street could be afforded with cleaning slaves, human women with gloves and brooms, mops and water buckets, brushes, and polish, giving the purple cobblestones the glorious sheen the city so richly reserved. Melasa saw a cargo train of several carts, being pulled by human women imported from the surface. While being less comely, Melasa could see that they were fit for heavy work, naked skin embraced in a tight pony harness, arms bound in front of them to wooden beams, pulling heavy carts full of goods across the city.

They were likely impoverished human widowers "volunteering" as tribute, used to hard work. Peasants and serfs above, slaves in the Underworld, their lot was to work, their melancholic faces blushing in their public nudity as they were handled nearly the same as a horse. Though Melasa could spot blushing and arousal, whether it was because of bondage or shame, it was not her business. At least here no man penetrated them without consent, they were very well-fed, and dark elves had alchemical healthcare bordering on sorcery, priding themselves on the physical (and incidentally, mental) health of their slaves.

Melasa could even see a ponygirl drawing a cart with a proud, happy, docile look on her face, ignoring the soft lashes on her buttocks, as she pulled the guests to their destination with great enthusiasm: two dark elven ladies hiding their faces with fans as they conversed. Some girls liked it, it seemed. Squinting, she had a brief moment of revelation, smiling to herself: it was that girl who had refused to kneel during her visit. Now the human was a docile, well-adjusted beast of burden, her gagged, restrained face showing pride and determination as she pulled a cart full of goods, her body formed into a strong, feminine bulk with food and training. Perhaps in a few months, Melasa could ask for the stable mistress to sell Ada for her royal carriage, to be adorned like a prized horse and serve the queen she once badmouthed. Not for humiliation of course: Melasa wanted to reward and pamper her for her obedience, showing the girl off as she pulled her in her journeys as a shining example of how humans could be tamed and used with love.

Humans made great slaves with minimal effort breaking them in unlike stubborn orc and dwarf women. And they made her people rich, even though a tiny part of her conscience had a little twinge somewhere, even after using her magical, soothing voice to calm some rebellious slaves, berating them about how necessary it was for humans to serve them and how their fate need not be painful if they stuck to their work, and she was grateful for their sacrifice, and her people would embrace them in (patronizing) love as well as chains.

Some teary-eyed men and women suspected of potential rebellion had kissed her feet and had apologized for feeling rebellious, after which she flashed her sweetest smile and made a sign of benediction over their foreheads, and said she understood, signaling the workshop mistresses to forgive them, this once.

Time to let loose a little.

"Leave the wine and fruit on the bed." She commanded her slave girl and boy at her side. How about you, slave girl...what was your name?"

"Anna, your Highness?" The slave girl blinked.

"You look young. Ever sucked a cock? Lain with a man or are you a virgin?"

She shook her head, a bit surprised by the queen's sudden vulgar language. "Um...no, your highness?"

"Would you like to try? I have a whole harem here and you look tense. You are new here, aren't you?"

Anna bit her lips, unsure. She was young, was smart enough to understand her slave position in Chel'drai was *very* lucky and privileged, so...why the hell not? Her lips turned into a smile, and she nodded.

"Great! I want all my slaves happy and enjoying themselves...now..." She pulled the wine-bearer and motioned him to relax and stroke himself to an erection.

"Anna..." The queen softly spoke. "Want me to guide you on how to please a man with your mouth?" When the girl hesitantly blinked and nodded, she grinned, motioning her to come close, pulling the wine boy to her other side.

"Now, open your mouth, and make..."

She pinched the still girl's mouth and gently pulled her mouth open, shaping it like an "o" and pushing it towards the shivering young man's cock.

"Tongue out, close your eyes. Take the cock head and start sucking..." She gently guided the girl's head and started pushing and pulling, using her mouth like a sex toy for her favorite slave boy. "I'll guide you...let your mind go blank."

*-*-*-*

After a humble, and quiet lunch (consisting only of four courses, six musicians, and a local dark elf dancer), the Queen was having a quiet nap, stretching over her velvet divan with a content face, resembling a fat cat. Anna's moans and orgasmic squeals could be heard from downstairs, the slave boy she sucked his cock was busy pounding her pussy on one of many harem beds.

They seemed to get along well, the queen couldn't wait for her daughter to have a baby human companion to play with.

"Mother...I want something."

"What is it, daughter of mine?" Lazy purple eyes regarded her needy, clingy, spoiled eldest daughter, pouting while squeezing a small, human-shaped, painted voodoo doll with sharp nails.

"I want the Duchess' youngest son. Can your tribute collectors take him next year?"

Melasa turned to regard her precocious young daughter who was barely an adult of forty-nine years.

"That soft, chubby thing? You know you can order our loyal vassal to give up her eldest, handsome son?" Melasa was intrigued: she never knew her third eldest daughter to be interested in marriage, merely lie with a human man whenever lust became too much and be done with it.

"I just desire him. The eldest desires a human noble girl and their relationship just sickens me, and the mother is too whiny about her sons after her husband passed."

Melasa smiled. "Never knew you for a merciful person. What gives?"

"You see Mother, the Duchess can hold on to her favorite, while this soft young boy will be the perfect canvas for my teasing and training! Everybody wins!"

"On one condition."

Her daughter perked up, her ears wiggling cutely like a cat when elves were intrigued. "Hm?"

"You will marry him as a legal husband and won't treat him too badly. No human furniture play. No public humiliation, he will be respected by everyone, even if he saunters naked in public."

"Of course. Laws are laws."

"You *will* show him love. As in, praise his success, treasure him, and give him an appreciation for his existence. I have this feeling that you want to slim him down with diet and exercise. Just don't hurt him deeply."

"Yes, Mother." The daughter replied in a bored voice.

Melasa turned a lazy eye, shaking her head. "Just don't break him, daughter. Humans are...well...human beings with feelings and hopes too, I suppose. Remember you are fathered by one."

"I won't forget..." The little dark-elven bitch princess grinned far too wide to be friendly, her nails digging deep into the human doll.

(TO BE CONTINUED - With the Lives of Tributes' Arc and the Royal Wedding)