Tributes to the Dark Elves Pt. 02

Not that he hadn't seen any naked women since his arduous slave march to the underground city: he even saw some leashed dark-elven slaves accompanying their mistresses, apparently these creatures had no qualms about enslaving each other. These were naked like him but looked very upbeat, bubbly, and happy, no doubt all volunteers fitting the lewdness of the species.

And here was his childhood friend and crush, extending her arms towards him for an embrace.

Her embrace...it felt as if he was on clouds as she kissed him again. Slowly pulling him on top of her, Kae'liss wasted little time with other "foreplay" frivolities, spreading her legs, and taking charge, slowly adjusting her hips so her warm, wet slit touched his throbbing cock head. Feeling her sweaty, fragrant, soft body under him all of a sudden and gently guided to penetrate her, poor Arius almost came there and then. But having been drilled during his slave march under whips and slaps, he knew he had to keep control. Putting his chin on her shoulder, he bit his lips and kept his composure, nuzzling her as he pushed his hips forward, feeling her soft, wet, wall vaginal walls engulf his cock. Holding his breath, he tried his best to calm down and slowly thrust his hips, making Kae'liss shudder and close her eyes.

"Oh Goddess, you are inside me..." Kae'liss breathlessly whispered in his ears, her elven ears pulled back in excitement. "I love you..."

I love you. A rarely uttered word from a haughty dark elf, Arius never felt better. Joy taking him over, he regained control of his loins, pulled his head back, and kissed her deeply, finally gaining control and starting to thrust and pound, his body filled with renewed vigor as he started fucking her.

Focusing on the creaking of the bed, and Kae'liss' moans, Arius did his best to keep himself steady, getting on top of her, kissing her hands and knees as he bent her backward and rested her pretty tiny feet on his shoulders, starting to plow down and bury his cock.

Dark elven feet were delicate, small, and fragrant, with no light-skinned soles, unlike human Southerners. He kissed one bending his neck before starting to pick up his pace and fucking her.

Her ass felt so soft in his hands as if her muscles were made of fruit jelly. Her skin smelled like lavender, with a hint of salty, tangy arousal, and her lips were sweeter than anything he touched. Almost growling and losing control, he almost collapsed on her, burying his face in her shoulder and grunting, his buttocks rising and falling faster to make her climax.

Kae'liss was in paradise: she did not incline to mount men or make them feel pain mixed with pleasure before she would bend down and suck their cocks as her mother did.

She loved being taken, losing control, and used like a succubus whore in Reikshold. On top of him was Arius, nuzzling and kissing him with great love, pounding her body with his so intensely that she felt every bit of his erection inside her, stretching her tight orifice. Several minutes later, both inexperienced people started to feel warmer and warmer: his pace became erratic, his breathing ragged, and his sweat dropped on Kae'liss, who started to feel the impending orgasm. Her mewling voice became ragged screaming, feeling her body tense, she clasped her legs around him, screaming.

"Come inside me!"

Groaning, Arius gave a few more thrusts before he lost control, feeling an incredible rush of pleasure as he finally let go, climaxing and feeling every drop of his being rush inside her to sow her beautiful, ebon fields...

Shuddering, Kae'liss sighed and bit her lips, the convulsions making her vaginal muscles clamp down on him before she almost fell asleep locked in coitus...

Minutes later they both came to their senses, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes, half-tired, half-asleep. Their breathing mixed, Kae'liss whispered words of love in her slave...no...beloved husband-to-be's ear. She was happy, her slender, yet curvy form fitting to her beloved Arius' frame like a glove. She could not deny it was fate that brought them here, and she was happy.

As sleep overcame her, she only prayed he'd be happy too.

*-*-*-*

Alize had given up and accepted what had happened. They took her as part of the tribute, and it was for the greater good of the duchy. So it was her fate and duty in a way, to serve one last time to the people above by serving the dark elves as a slave.

She was stripped naked like the others, her toned, muscular frame tied behind her back, feet on the ground as if she were a mannequin, instructed to look forward and talk back only when ordered to. The drow had oiled her skin and even applied a little makeup to make her pretty, before tying an identification tag to her nipples with her name, age, and occupation.

Her body felt warm: almost enjoying her helplessness in a lewd corruption of military discipline at attention. She had already gathered a small crowd that took care not to hurt her as they felt her buttocks, breasts, arms, and legs, like vultures or predatory animals, the thin-faced, delicately framed black fae women arguing with each other.

"Labor slave, you think? Mines?"

The elderly one shook her head. "Could be my mannequin at my store: slaves wearing luxury clothes practically sell the clothes themselves..."

Alize tried to look at her as if begging. It wouldn't be so bad, parading with expensive clothes for rich women to buy...right?

"I'm thinking gladiatrix..." Another wealthy, yet spartan-looking dark elven woman with short, spiky hair and a stern look touched Alize's stomach. "Good money at fighting slaves, tag on her nipple says she was a guard."

Terrified, she opened her mouth, earning a harsh glare and a raised hand from the slave trader, the dark elven matron snarling at her to keep quiet. Gulping, she kept weeping, whimpering that she did not want to die for amusement.

That earned only a pitying laugh from the slaver:

"What do you take us for? No one died in the Arena, we heal our investments."

Investment.

At least it killed her worst fears. Just when a lady took Alize's tongue out of her mouth and gently pulled, inspecting her teeth.

As much she hated the treatment, Alize couldn't deny she was feeling hot, bothered, and aroused by all the touches. They were squeezing her breasts, feeling the soft globes and squeezing them like toys, though their hands were mostly gentle, and they almost seemed to want her to choose who would take her home as a slave.

"I used to be a town guard..." She could blurt out when one of the matrons questioned her. The women looked at each other, then the naked human girl on the sales platform:

"Gladiatrix school it is..."

Money flowed, and hands changed leashes and coins. Alize felt a hot flash, flinching when the slaver bent behind her and pressed a wet, very hot stamp on her right buttock. Pulling back and caressing her pale asscheek, the slaver gave a thumbs-up and handed the girl's leash to the strange dark elven lady.

"Marked as property of the Gladiatrix School." The woman proudly intoned, taking the stamp to be cleaned. "Collect your slave, ma'am."

Alize felt the tug on her neck, facing a strict, spartan-looking drow staring into her eyes with an arrogant sneer.

"Let's see how well you fight for the amusement of the crowd."

In a final word of defiance, Alize spoke out of turn, eyes flaring:

"I will."

Expecting to be slapped, Alize flinched. But then she realized that the raised hand cupped her cheek, then the breast, her ass, squeezing to feel the muscle. The drow was amused, smiling and nodding.

"We will see about that, young human. Your first bout starts next week." She pulled her by the neck. "Follow me. You don't have to bow your head, no one ever threatens my slaves, and." Leading her between the crowd, the Lanista went on:

"I expect you to be flashy. You will not fight to kill, but to subdue and look dashing doing it. You will fight naked, flashing your body, looking fierce, yelling, and speaking in boisterous, theatric one-liners. I paid good money for you, so I expect you to win."

"Can I ask a question?" Alize relaxed, forgetting she was even naked, walking as if she was an equal. Lanista's eyes squinted.

"Go on."

"Do I...get anything...? I don't know how your people..."

Lanista nodded: This one had some spine and was looking out for herself.

"...you have "pecunium", earning five percent of what you would win as a free woman. Earn enough and you will be freed in a few years, if you win non-stop. Some slaves just are content to spend it on a few luxuries and stay slaves forever, but I..." She stared into the soft, gentle human eyes. "You have something in your mind, don't you?"

Alize bit her lips, hanging her head. "Can I send it to my mother on the surface? I will fight, I will work, I don't care if I ever return to my people."

Lanista raised her brows, her stare softening a little. Her little truth ring did not glow red and itch: poor thing was speaking no lies.

"We'll see about that. When we are at the Ludus, I'll take a look at how well you swing a sword..."

Lanista did not have a heart made of stone. Perhaps this new girl could de-throne Huzzud before she buys her freedom and leaves for the surface. The Svartalf would make sure Huzzud would return safe and her children be exempt from tribute: even the darkest hearts in Dunia had a speck of gold.

*-*-*-*

The girls would be treated gentler, relative to the men at least.

The girls were all instructed, quite sternly, to stand upright, hands on their heads, and stay still. Their pendulous breasts were weighed by hand, hair, eyes, hips, and mouth examined, and arms and legs felt for muscle suited for work, careful not to terrify or overly humiliate the human females. Svartalvar, no matter how dominant, were all matriarchs, and treated female slaves a tad kinder than human males, some thinking of them as poor, distant sisters whose lot, by unfortunate fate, was to work and breed slave humans. Particularly older dark-elven women, matrons, and mothers, would converse with the poor human females, ask about what they knew, and what they could do in a household, and even measure their bodies not for sexual eye candy, but for future clothes as a reward.

Farmer peasant girls were bought first, dragged in chain gangs to the mushroom plantations, skilled and smart ones for jewelers' tables, and older, experienced women for household maid slaves were available for all dark elves to purchase. Laughter and coins clinked as pale human bodies were traded like pets between the lusty and cruel dark elves.

Men, poor human men, were mostly bought for one thing, and one thing only if the buyer was a crude dark-elven lady.

Sex and breeding.

*-*-*-*

Laughter, whispers, and coos of joy echoed as a silver bell rang:

"AUCTIONS FOR EXOTIC SLAVES START IN TEN MINUTES, LADIES!" The fancily-dressed dark elf in a "tuxedo" (a very strange and tight set of clothes fit for a male physique) and top hat (with holes for her ears) bellowed into a magical horn. "GET YOUR SLAVES HERE! MALE, FEMALE, HUMANS FRESH FROM THE SURFACE!"

Pepin could, for the first time in his life, feel warm.

Uncertainty, not fitting in his new family, and an eventual stepchild situation might be turning around.

Maybe.

He was bare naked, feeling the warm air of the slave market, harshly instructed to stand with legs spread and hands above his head, his penis dangling before him, his entire body shaven and perfumed. It was humiliating, yet incredibly arousing.

A tall, bespectacled, mature dark elven lady wearing an elaborate blue fur dress, complete with a fox fur coat around her shoulders had approached him as he was exposed, arms and legs spread for examination, lost in thoughts. His heart leaped when he realized she was looking him in the eye: she was a buyer, he realized with helpless arousal.

Sure, he was a bit unruly and horny for his good, but he was really sad about his family giving him to the dark elves to be taken to their underground city as a slave. He heard dark elves need men for sex, but...

...he felt ambivalent, mixed between being abandoned and horny. Terminally horny.

He had woken up to the sound of her high heels clicking, the lady's almond eyes fixed on his face, with a kind smile on an ebon, angular face that spoke of a nice home and warm bed, her purest, shining mane of silvery white hair tied in youthful braids, yet her glasses on her pointy, beautiful, cute nose looked slightly bookish and mature. The beautiful, delicate-looking dark elf waved at the slave merchant, who kept her notepad in one hand, hurrying to talk to the buyer.

"This handsome young man here..." The lady had pointed at Pepin, speaking, another hand touching his abdomen to feel for muscles, caressing his face with a tender, curious, ebon hand and a smile. "I'm interested in him. How much?" She snapped her fingers with a clink of her jeweled rings adorning them.

Pepin gulped, seeing his fate being decided. It was arousing and shocking, not being in control of one's life, as restricted as this. However, it did not feel horrible.

She called him "Young Man. Handsome Young Man..."

Not "Boy",

Not "Slave",

Not "Rivvil",

Not "Pet",

Or "that soft human boy with the decent cock"

His cheeks felt warm: she showed some semblance of decency when addressing a poor young human boy on a slave market.

If only he could hide his erection, proudly displayed with a ribbon and a tag tied to it with his penis length written on it...

"Six hundred gold coins. Healthy male, age..." The dark elf looked at her papers. "Nineteen. Sold by his stepmother to pay for house expenses, she claims he is a chronic masturbator."

"Very good!" The dark elven matron chuckled, looking him in the eyes as her delicate lips parted, revealing shiny, white teeth. "So he'll be useful around the house and can keep up in bed." And here it came: she bent slightly before him, holding his erect penis and reading the length tag with clinical care before softly squeezing his balls.

"Looks sexually active."

"Quite so! And is already broken in, seems quite docile, and if I may say, Lady, aroused by your presence! The tribute collector said he was quite the sprayer. If nothing else, you can milk his balls for essence."

"A human, even a male is more than just genitals, my dear..." The lady smiled back at the slave trader, caressing the overjoyed Pepin's face. "He *will* be my concubine, yes, but I intend to teach him our language, and entertain my friends at parties as well."

The middle-aged, yet stunningly beautiful dark elven matron ran a manicured hand across Pepin's penis, smiling and nodding satisfied at the speed of his semi-flaccid member hardening again. The matron's lips curled to a grin.

"Responsive too! I'll buy him."

The rest flowed like a dream, partly due to the weakening effect of the drugs Pepin and other slaves had inhaled, and partly due to the strange slave food and the dark elven perfumes enchanting him.

The dark elves smelled so good. All their women, such as the species was, doomed to be mono-gendered by fate. Even the rare few dark elven slaves, bodies heavily chained, tomboyish and muscular, sweating and working blacksmith bellows and anvils smelled great despite working in the heavy industry right next to him; even their body sweat smelled heavenly.

Sadly Pepin had no idea how much Demon Energy he was hopped up on...

"SOLD! Come again please!" The slave trader lady shook the hands of his owner with enthusiasm, unfastened Pepin's arms and legs, clipped a chain leash to his collar, and handed it to the dark elf who would be:

"I am Valerie Du Ko'koa, your new owner, and mistress."

The beautiful face was inches away from his. She looked like a woman in her early 40s, except for her elvish features; Pepin, in his pleasure-addled brain, guessed she might be several centuries old.

"You are my new slave, young man, to be used as I like until the end of your life, earn freedom or I am bored with you." Her expression was one of slight arrogance, and confidence, talking to her property that just happened to be sentient. Her eyes, her glittering, almond jewels glittered with great interest as she eyed his body again and again as if eyeing a cake to devour.

"Wear this: then let us go home." She then added in her flowery, accented Common, handing him softly, leather shorts that could be tied around his waist. "You will get used to following me naked in public, but you must be tired, exhausted, tired, and hungry. Let us mend this with a small meal, and then discuss your future life under my house."

Pepin put the threadbare shorts on without protest, after which her mistress tugged his chain leash like a dog, turning around and pulling him to what seemed to be his new home. He followed like a dog, his melancholic face attracting more than a few pitying coos from nearby dark elven matrons who had an eye on him.

He felt conflicting emotions: he felt horny. He felt restricted, which aroused *and* frustrated him, he couldn't adjust his shorts, and Valerie had tied his wrists behind his back for fun. And he could not take his eyes off his new owner, Valerie's round, hard, toned ass, stretching her dress fabric as she walked.

"While we head home, listen and listen well..." Valerie spoke without looking back. "I'm a lady of several centuries of experience, and I want my slaves to fit my standards. I will teach you our language: yours is a bit crude for my taste. You will learn household chores, as well as dark elven arts of sex: I have a busy life and my guests are esteemed ladies like me, you will please me, and them as well.

She could feel Pepin's excitement behind her:

"However, as time passes, I expect you to speak my language only, and save common for your human wives."

"Wives?" Pepin blurted, suddenly correcting himself when he felt the leash tighten by magic. "...mistress?"

"Of course!" Valerie smiled: "I expect you to father children not by me, mind you I have a dozen daughters across centuries living on their own, but by my guests and my house's human slave women. You will breed more humans for me, but will please me in bed when I'm bored."

Pepin gulped.

"Consider it an honor: I choose only the best pedigree humans for my household. And I expect that you will never miss the surface while you work for me."

"My home-" Pepin started, to be cut off by a raised hand and a tug on his penis.

"This is your home now."

Pepin kept following his new mistress: he was never so erect in his life. What would the future hold for him?

*-*-*-*

Zanma gently led Jacob and his neighborhood friend, whose name she learned was "Rebecca", both nude, on a leash, to the auction platform. She had taken them, and by seniority laws, was entitled to auction them with a cut for herself.

"Stand on the platform, expose yourselves, and smile." She told them both. "Excited?"

The girl nodded rapidly, her face was flushed, her nipples erect, and Zanma could feel her arousal. Jacob was beet red, his penis throbbing, tied shut with a rattan cage so as not to ejaculate and make a mess.

"Everything will be alright. Just look pretty. Both of you cuties won't be working too hard in your new lives, I think." Zanma smiled, before raising her arm and gesturing to the proudly standing human pair, one male, and one female:

"Two very docile humans from the surface, young, smart, and healthy!" She bellowed. "Gentle ladies, what can I have for those two high-potential slaves? They volunteered for this, to save their kin from this fate!"

This elicited a wave of approving noises from the wealthy, feminine throng looking at both naked humans like hungry piranhas.

"Three hundred for the boy!" A young dark elf jumped up and down, clearly overjoyed, her breasts bouncing as she waved a numbered placard. Probably a wealthy brat, Zamna guessed judging by her already jeweled, yet short, elven ears.