Bruises So Blue Ch. 02byDireLilith©
Awakening from the darkness immediately brought the consequence of pain. The warlock squeezed her eyes shut, for even the subdued lighting coming through her lids was too bright for the first few moments of her awareness. Slowly she adjusted to the light, but as she opened her eyes, she began to feel her predicament. Her wrists were bound behind her, so tightly that her shoulders were feeling strained. She was on her knees, on dirt. She glanced over her shoulder, quickly noticing that her wrists were roped and the rope was around a thick pole, possibly the centre beam of a tent or lodge. She tugged instinctively on the bindings but winced loudly and squeezed her eyes shut. Her wrists felt as if they were broken already.
Somewhere to her left, someone started laughing. Carefully, she began to draw her head up, to see who her captors were. But she moved too slowly, and someone grabbed a fistful of her pale hair, wrenching her head back. She looked into the brown eyes of a human with black hair and a goatee. She knew this face. Didn't have a name for him. But he was a disgusting paladin she had fought many times.
He was practically spitting at her as he pulled on her hair, trying to drag her to her feet. His hand snaked out and ripped the remaining clothing from her body, and she snarled at him.
He laughed again then called out to someone else, pushing her head away from him as she struggled to stay up on her feet. She glanced around at her surrounds. This was indeed some crudely erected tent. And the man had called out to another human, this one with longer red-blonde hair, a thick matching beard jutting from his chin, and an almost blindfold-like blind across his eyes, black, shielding them from her. The strawberry blonde haired man promptly walked over to the elven warlock and slapped her, hard. Her head whipped to the side and stars sprouted behind her eyelids. She gasped, shocked as much by the pain of the act as by the act itself.
Black goatee man laughed loudly and walked up to her, once again pulling her head back. But she kept her eyes on the face of the blonde, watching as he carefully pulled his blinder from his eyes and set it to the side on a crude wooden table. His eyes, a soft hazel, glared at her as his lip curled up in a snarl of disgust. He spoke angry, low-toned words that she might not comprehend exactly but could easily decipher the meaning of.
This was another man she had fought before. And he too hated her. She was not in a good place, at all.
The man with the short neatly trimmed black hair walked around behind her. She could barely stand straight at all. He had been tearing her clothing from her body while she was unconscious, the pieces lay all around her, and she could smell strange things on her skin. Was it urine? Had these monkey men urinated on her in her sleep? Behind her now, where she couldn't see him, Black Hair was poking at her naked skin and giggling. He seemed to ask a question of Blonde Hair, and at a single nod he moved his hands forward over her body. She felt his rough gloves sliding around her ass cheeks. And she winced as he forcefully pulled them apart, laughing loudly at her sound of pain.
Blonde Hair moved closer, standing almost exactly in front of her. She glared at him.
"I hate you...so much...right now," she hissed. His lip curled up but he said nothing.
She looked down. He was undoing his weapon's belt, his heavy swords in their sheaths falling away to land on the ground. The warlock gulped. Behind her, Black Hair was laughing in glee. His fingers slid over her sex, gloved at first and then bare as he tossed his gauntlets to the side. His fingers worked expertly over her clitoris and labia, and soon, against all odds, her pussy was wet, moist and swollen with arousal.
There was nothing much she could do except hiss at her captors as Black Hair touched and fondled her privacy, as Blonde Hair glared at her with all the venom his whole human nation could muster.
Then someone spoke from the flap of the tent's entry.
"It's going to hurt," the elf she had met in the woods said, quietly. He was silhouetted by the light of day outside but she knew it was him. His voice was already burned into her brain. She could barely breathe as she stared over the shoulder of the blonde man at the elf in the doorway.
"It won't take them too long to tire of you. I hope, anyway," he said in a tone meant to comfort her. "I can't rescue you from them until they're done. And they are really angry with you."
He seemed to sigh then and turn away.
"P-please," she whimpered, knowing her voice sounded only a fraction as desperate as she felt inside. "Help me..."
He paused, not looking over his shoulder at her, not turning around as he moved to leave.
"I can't. I wish...I can't."
Then he was gone. She was left alone with Black Hair and Blonde Hair.