Hello! I've twice now made the mistake of promising a quicker pace of publishing these, but unfortunately I think I have to relent that these stories are going to come out as they do, with little rhyme or reason to it. Rest assured I have more in the works, both on this series and others, however I won't make promises as to when they will be published.
I've numbered this chapter 2.5 as while it does take place in the same universe as the rest of the Sam stories, our intrepid slut is not present in this tale. Instead, we shall take a look at some of Val's other debaucheries in the dark corners of Lyre. It's also a little less polished, as I wrote it on a bit of a whim, but c'est la vie.
Content warning: graphic depictions of incest, non-consensual/reluctance, blackmail.
Enjoy!
- Mx. Potato
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Vaullenta admired his handywork. From where he stood in the sub-basement of the campus library, Hilda Stone was only a pair of holes flanked by a firm buttock. Hilda was a blacksmith, a respected one at that, and also taught a handful of lessons at the University - on alloy metal and its wide range of applications, and practical smithing for those who've never held a hammer. Normally, she was bent over a hot forge, shaping metal to her will, supplying the merchants of Lyre with hundreds of brand-new horseshoes, weapons, and finery. Today, she was bent in half, her bare ass on one side of a wall, and the rest of her on the other. She moaned. Her ass was completely exposed, and she knew the elf was just eyeing it up and down, deciding what torture to inflict on her this week. She lay slumped on her chest, tight orange curls flooding a small table, shoeless feet on a couple of pegs. At least Val had fitted the hole with a bit of padding this time, she thought. At least I could almost fall asleep here. Almost.
For the last six months, Hilda had been stopping by the library every Sunday to donate some books. One of these books was a rare copy, and so she was asked to store it in the secure basement of the library building. Being a faculty member, she needed no escort, and made her way down. Past the first basement was a second, hidden behind some clever illusion magic. It was here she would strip naked and seat herself in this place, to be tormented by the elf.
She felt a long sharp finger invade her pussy. It was coated in cool lube and slid in and out with ease. She gasped but knew not to make too much noise. It felt like an age since Vaullenta had approached her in her store, holding a folder full of evidence. Hilda had been helping her daughter, Hanla, dodge the war draft, that she might continue her education at the university. Val had found out and arranged a little deal. The marshal would not even know the two of them existed, and she would show herself here, every Sunday.
"I've got someone here to play with you, Hilda. Don't worry, I won't tell her who you are. All you'll be is a pair of fuckholes in a wall."
Hilda sighed. It wasn't the first time Val had brought a friend. She felt the wall shift. Yet another feature of Val's dungeon. Spinning, she came to see the rest of the room: simple stonework with three steel-barred cells. One of them was occupied. A woman sat patiently on her knees, blindfolded. She was another dwarf, tight orange curls, large, freckled breasts and face. Hilda felt adrenaline rush through her.
"Hanla!?" She shouted, seeing Val smirk in the corner of her eye. "That's--"
"Yes, it is," Val replied, shifting to give Hilda a better view, "but she can't hear you. This room is silenced. As you will be, now."
"No, Val, you can't mean to--"
Vaullenta caught her mouth with a rubber gag, stopping Hilda's sentence in its tracks. Suddenly, she found herself flipping back to the other side of the wall. She had barely even registered what she'd seen before she heard the sound of a door opening. Hilda became blisteringly aware of the situation. Her daughter was now standing on the other side of that wall, able to see with ease the tight holes of the dwarf. She wouldn't even know. Hilda's mind raced as to what she was even doing here. Had Val got to her too? She then heard her daughter speak.
"Woahh, I never even knew this room existed!"
"Most don't," Val's tone had taken on that of a trickster friend, "and no one will find it."
"So... who is she?"
"A toy, dear. Nothing more than holes in a wall. Would you like to play with her?"
Hilda felt a soft hand cup her rear end. Her heart threatened to lodge itself in her gagged mouth. Drool pooled on the oak table, creeping into her hair. On the other side of the wall, Hanla continued to admire her.