For the Whored Ch. 004

The following afternoon, Elunara sat by her post in the courtyard, carefully documenting everything she saw.

"Ok, I thought about it all night!" Ricky pounded his fist into his hand. "I know exactly what I want." He struck a pose. "Like this!"

She laughed. "You know you'll have to stay still for long periods while I get it just right."

"You got it, boss lady."

She carefully sketched the pose and marked out lighting.

"Oh, yeah, I could hold this allll day."

With a small smile, she began to fill out the details. He began to talk incessantly, but she wasn't listening. As she worked, her eyes tracked towards Grogek, calling orders. She added detail to several pages she had spread out on the modified writing desk she'd had a couple of grunts create for her.

A line here, a scribble there, and she was able to draw faster and more efficiently with her new set up.

"Man, my arms hurt."

"Take a break, I'm thirsty."

"Right away!" He saluted and ran off.

Elunara flipped to a previous drawing and contented herself with filling out the sketches from the night before. With a sigh, she accepted the drink from Ricky, and began to sketch the persistent little goblin again.

Finished, she handed him the portrait.

"Oh man, you are one of a kind, lady." He hugged the picture to his chest. "The others will be so jealous!"

"Go then."

He hesitated. "But, uhh..."

"That's a command. You'll annoy me until you do so."

"Whoohoo!" He ran off, the paper flapping above his head.

She chuckled as she started work on another paper.

"What did he do to earn that?"

Elunara jolted, as she didn't expect Grogek's appearance. Calmly, she erased the jagged line that shot across her paper.

"Not a thing."

"Hmm."

She did not look up, as she continued sketching.

"Grommash summons you to the war room."

Elunara gathered her things and collapsed the table down into its portable shape. She followed Grogek into the hall. Grommash was leaning over the map, his fingers tapping the table. He looked up and grinned.

"Once again you bring me victory! You have proven yourself among my kind! Strange though it may be."

Elunara simply nodded.

"What would you ask this time?"

"Freedom."

Grommash narrowed his eyes.

She waved her hand at him. "Oh, nothing like that. I just wish to walk freely around the fortress."

Grommash leaned on a fist on the table. "You already do that."

"No I don't. I am always on an invisible leash, led by Grogek, or whatever other peon is around to make sure I am where I should be. I have proven myself over and over, and have only wished to do what I want. I continue to do so. If I wanted to leave, I would have already been gone. Your chains do not bind me; your troops do not scare me."

Grommash looked to Grogek, a muscle twitched in the orc's face, but he said nothing. Grommash looked back at Elunara. "It is done."

Elunara bowed and walked away.

"I do not trust her." Grogek frowned.

Grommash laughed.

Wandering past several workers, she made her way to the tower on the corner wall and climbed. She shook her head at several of the passing orcs. Many had already been in her chamber. Once she was at the top, she set up her little work table before moving to the center of the wall. She shifted her body and moved her arms. Back and forth she walked across the wall, her eyes intent on the fortress below her. She held up paper, held up a pencil, changed angles; shifted her head several times, before finally sitting down and drawing again.

"By the Gods, she's done it." The human guard hiding in the tree line lowered his binoculars. "She actually did it."

"Sir?" The young apprentice craned his neck.

"Take a letter, boy."

Elunara sat down and began to sketch out on several pieces of paper. Grogek appeared at the door to the tower and marched up to her.

"What do you think you are doing?"

She looked over her shoulder, to the dense forest. "I don't think I'm in any danger up here." she motioned to her papers. "I wanted to see this. Isn't it amazing?"

He looked down and frowned. Back and forth he looked at the scene below and the drawing on the paper. "Hmm."

"It's in my nature to like the open air up here, the wind is lovely today." She looked up and smiled her most serene. "You really should relax more often, Groggy dear."

He narrowed his eyes. "Don't call me that."

"Groggy? Or dear?"

He growled and then promptly ignored her, stooping down to turn the page. He flipped through several and came back of the one last night.

"This is amazing. Your skill is superb."

"I've been drawing all of my life, honing my craft for as long as I can remember."

"So this is how you have earned the respect of my men."

She laughed. "What?"

"I have heard of your... methods. Under normal circumstances, you would be just a whore, but this..." He flipped to other pages. "Where are the rest?"

"I don't carry it all around. It stays in my room. Besides, it would be rude to treat such intimate portraits in such a brash manner. They are safely stored and hidden away. Only to be seen by me and at the request of the subject."

He just stared at her. "You are not what you seem." He murmured. Before standing up and walking away.

"Do be a dear and wear a little less armor this time!" She called after him. She stretched out and flexed her hands a bit, before buckling back down and drawing more. Once again she tossed a ball over her shoulder and watched it burn.

That night, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling. She had been drawing non-stop for weeks and her minor healing spells were starting to lose their effect on her hands and back. She sighed. Taking out a piece of paper, she scrawled across it, before wadding it up and tossing it over her shoulder.

A polite knock on the door made her smile. Grogek had listened to her request and appeared in a shirt and pants, with soft leather shoes. He fidgeted in place.

"You really need to learn how to relax." She smiled and pulled her pad into her lap. "I bet it's been a long time since you've been without all of your armor, huh?" She turned to a fresh page. "At least, outside of bathing and sleeping." She tapped the pencil to the pad. "I bet you even sleep in some of it at this point."

He looked everywhere but her, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Would you like a copy of the one in your armor? You could hang it in your room."

His eyes snapped to her. "How many of my men have taken that offer?"

"More than half."

"Hmm."

"Since you're uncomfortable, we'll go easy again."

"No. I want this over with."

She shook her head. "I wish you'd stop being so angry with me." Placing the pad and pencil aside, she stood up and stepped over to him. Gently she put her hands on his arms. "Tell me why I make you so uncomfortable."

He stared down at her hands and said nothing.

This time she reached up and placed her hands on his cheeks. "Look at me."

Lifting his gaze, he scowled at her.

She shook her head again. She took his hand and pulled him. "Sit with me."

He sat on her straw bed, and she sat down beside him. Moving her sketch pad, she dug around until she found her finished work. Slowly she opened the books and began to flip through the pages so he could see.

"Since you will not answer my question, then I will answer yours."

"Why are you here?"

She blinked at him. "What?"

"I know you are hiding something. Long before you said it to Grommash, I knew that you were here of your own free will, and I want to know why."

"Fair enough." She continued to flip through the pages. "I came here to do just this."

"Why do I not believe you?" He sneered.

She shrugged. "I tell you the honest truth. I came here to draw everything I see. Everything. My bonus is that I get to draw the thing I really want."

"How does this help anyone?"

She stood up and went to another shelf. "It serves my purpose fair enough." She pulled out a sheaf of papers before sitting back down.

"You see, I am very different from everyone else. In my kind, we live for longer than most of the lesser races, and as such tend to see other races as somewhere below us. Ages ago, our kind took a blow to our immorality and have never recovered." She smiled woefully at him.

"So we tend to not form partnerships with the so called lesser races, and have almost a disdain for them. As more and more of us accept that we will no longer be immortal, we find ourselves on a more even playing field. Some of our kind give freely of their body, but only to their own kind. If we're going to be around forever, eventually you'd get tired of the same old, same old. As more of our kind came to terms with a lack of immoratlity, we began to see the other races in new light. Rather than insects that are in our lives briefly, we share a timeframe with them. More and more of my kind are finding partners with the others.

Me, however, am the oddest of the odd. Not only do I see other races as equals, I see them as sexual partners. More than giving freely to my own kind, I give freely to any kind. My kind is so repulsed by my actions that I have been cast out. Our leader has actually told me to never go back. I am not allowed in my own city."

She smiled at him. "Can you image? Banished from your own homeland, for who you want to fuck?"

With a shrug, she opened up the sheaf of papers. "From the time I felt those sexual urges, I began to document the men I have been with." She held up a drawing of a naked night elf. "It's a rough drawing, and one of my first true works."

Grogek blinked at the drawing before coughing into his fist.

She slowly flipped through. "I enjoy the male body. In fact, I can't get enough of it." She laughed. "There is some part of me that is addicted to trying them all out. I do not care their race; I do not care their size. I draw them in their armor," She held up a drawing. "I draw them in regular clothes" she held up another, "I draw them naked and relaxed." She held up a third, "and finally, I draw them in full arousal." She held up the last.

Tucking the papers back in their order, she flipped through and pointed them out. "I don't even have half of my drawings here, I have them hidden away in a place that only I can find. These are my prized possessions. They are not really conquests to be had, but rather mementos of a portion of each person's spirit. They were friends, they were enemies. It did not matter, so long as I got to enjoy their bodies as I saw fit."

She held up a picture of a reclining night elf. "But after awhile, I began to realize how much I hurt them."

Grogek shifted his attention her face, intent on her words.

"They thought more of me than I did of them. To each one, I was something special. To me, they were a means to an end. One day I began to see what I was doing to them. When they say a trail of broken hearts, they aren't kidding. This is one reason why the leader of the night elves cast me out. I had caused too much pain."

"I don't form attachments like other people do. I can be friendly to someone, but not actually be their friend." She stretched and leaned back. "So, I changed my methods. Instead of seducing and conjoling them into being what I wanted, I offered a trade. I learned how to turn my skills into a business instead of a relationship."

She sat up straight and turned to Grogek. "So you see; I am here for a reason. I trade drawings and physical intimacy for favors and loyalty. Not one of my art subjects believes for a moment that I will be anything other than what I am."

"You trade your body for what you want..."

"I haven't had sex with any of them." She interrupted with a quiet voice.

He blinked at her.

"I do not kiss them; I do not offer them promises. I am in control, and I use them as I see fit. I do not give, I take. If they believe otherwise, they are foolish."

She stood up and stretched. "I wonder if any of them have massage skills." She muttered as she rubbed her back.

"No matter." She turned and looked down at Grogek, who seemed to be working through her words in his mind. He picked up her hidden book and thumbed through the pages.

"You are not what you seem." He murmured quietly.

She reached over and picked up her notepad. Leaning against the wall, she began to sketch him sitting on the bed.

"I want to see the men."

"What?" Her pencil halted above her paper.

"The men that have been in this room, I want to see their papers."

"That's very rude."

"I am their commanding officer."

"Alright, alright." She tossed her pad on the bed and knelt down to the bottom shelf. She pulled out the papers and handed it over.

He traded the sketch pad, and she begn to draw as he flipped through them.

Grogek seemed lost in thought as he inspected each page. "What are these marks?" He pointed to the outline edge.

"Those are my personal notes."

"Why?"

"I like to keep track. Names, information, what I did to them, how they reacted. Those sorts of things." She looked at the paper. "I gave that one a hand job; he reacted well, but it was far more intense when I went for the ears."

"Huh." He flipped through. "What about this one?"

She looked up. "He tried to take more than what was offered. Little shit. I told him he wasn't welcome back to me or I'd gut him like a fish. I told the others as much as well."

"Hmm." Grogek considered this. "And they listen?"

"They know my rules."

"I see why you say you are not afraid."

A soft knock on the door had her putting down the pad. She cracked the door.

"Everything ok?" It was Ricky.

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Ok, was just worried. You been longer than usual."

She shook her head and gestured with her hand. "No, it's fine. Don't worry."

"Ok den." The door was closed.

"He cares for you."

Elunara returned her attention to Grogek. "Yeah, I guess." She put some lines on the paper. "Before you ask... no. I haven't done anything with the goblin." She laughed. "Goblins can be some freaky little fuckers, but nah. I just don't see it."

Abruptly he stood up and pushed the pack of papers into her hands.

"Hey."

"Good night." He walked out and left her gawking at the door.