I have been extremely sick these days, so sorry, my 20 drafts are being made one by one. Please enjoy another Dark Elf scribble. Sorry about spacing in case something pops up.
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Aranis Van Rose, and her daughter Phaeliss, or Filly-kun maintained their secret village with strict fairness. Worked by their throng of human slaves, The Rose family was prosperous, with a free labor force they scavenged from every human village, runaway or captured adventurer melting in submission at their dominant, but sexually liberated lifestyle.
Phaeliss enjoyed her first personal body slave, Anon with great gusto. Poor boy was plucked from his village the moment he hit eighteen, and tamed by the whips of the dark elves. Now he was a submissive slave, working day and night to please his owners.
Aranis was pleased with his diligency. Still, she felt that toying with him every morning was fun.
The law in the plantation was that slaves would bathe or shower daily for hygiene in a multiracial environment to build up disease resistance over time. Bathing would be communal to foster a sense of peace and tranquility, as well as ease former inhibitions to raise lust between captives: no one suspected the showers were located next to the dark elven mansion, channeling demon energy to make everyone...less prudish.
After some time, they would be encouraged to sleep together, have sex and bear children for the dark elves. The most eager ones would be rewarded with good work shifts, nap times and higher positions in the pecking order. And the way dark elves were friendly once one would submit, even the most resisting men and women would not help but fall to their spell.
Like the female knight that fought Aranis years ago, now at her side with a bulge of pregnancy from her time with the male slaves. Resisting for ages, Taranis would combine a bit of light whipping (which would deliver a rush of pleasure due to her magical three-pronged whip), berating and pressure to mold her into a yielding, eventually willing servant.
When she broke, Aranis had tenderly lifted her to her chest, wiping her tears and kissing her forehead, repeatedly explaining that surrender was not shameful, but acknowledgement of a superior. That had calmed her captive a bit, who was now taken to the infirmary to be pampered and loved.
When she yielded, Taranis showered her with love and gifts, even teaching her the pleasures of the flesh personally, and most of all, spending time with her. She would be a fine addition to the dark elf farm.
Now Anon was their newest plaything: new farm buck boy to publicly whip, abuse, suck off like all males belonging to dark elves. He was happily sleeping in Phaeliss' arms tonight, cradled in soft black arms today, having the day off.
"Mine..." Phaeliss snored, her pregnancy heavy now. Her other hand was on her belly, caressing her baby, Aranis' first grandchild with pride. Her cute little mouth was open for breath, nuzzling Anon's neck.
Anon never felt any happier.
Today, though, we see what happens to Benny, another slave boy taken from human army in a raid.
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"Benny I swear I'm going to lock you in the Manticore pens, just stop joking alright?" Aranis pouted as Benny her loyal human slave, massaged her butt with coconut oil, the dark elf lying on her bed amongst satin linens...
Being a beautiful dark elf mistress didn't make people exempt from weight gain. And potato fries made her butt chubby, yet she didn't give up on massages. The good thing about being a dark elf meant that slaves were all around eager to make life easier. Women slaves to make babies, till the fields, and be nannies to bratty dark elf girls. Boy slaves to work, fuck, breed female slaves and toy with.
The dark elves prided themselves on quality of men in their hands to entice the most prudish human to their arms. Black girls imported from Kongo were positively in love with the milky pale white Lescatian boys and their golden hair.
No time for luxury, Aranis couldn't fit in her new armor. She sighed when fingers relaxed her ass muscles, Benny's hands working in perfection to untie the knots from wearing tight leathers.
Then Benny mumbled, again, because he was a cheeky little fucker:
"Ass like a plump black manjuu..."
Aranis' dark features twisted in anger, her lavender, almond eyes flashing in rage:
"THAT DOES IT!" She grinned with anger and mischievious evil, lifting Benny by the throat. Smirking, she took a pair of silver handcuffs, cuffing Benny's arms behind him, and ringing a bell.
A light elf maid in fluffy maid clothes entered and curtsied, a slave like the rest. Dark Elves kept them nowadays not out of lewdness, but a pity to a kin... They had to replenish their numbers, most hapless white elves died in Demon Wars and Spon Plague.
"Oui maitresse?" The light elf bowed in perfect harmony with her voluminous skirt, her pointy cute ears poking from her rich headdress, wiggling..
"Leliath, toss this humie to the Manticore pen would you? I think my overseers would enjoy milking him for sustenance and teach him some manners..." Aranis smirked, naked and proudly standing and tossing Benny with a stumble in her arms. The light elf sighed, shaking her head, her rich hair rippling over her head like a halo.
"Benny did it again, didn't he? Come, Benny..." She took him by the arm, dragging him more out of annoyance than duty, her ass bouncing with every step. "You just love to be defiant, don't you?" She sighed. "Can't you just ask to serve the poor girls normally, ne cest pas?" She kept walking as cuffed Benny followed with a smirk.
"It's not my fault! She had an ass like a black soft manjuu!"
The light elf maid pursed her lips, bursting in a giggle. "Shhh! Stop it!" Sighing, she chuckled as he kept leading him by the arm, outside and to the Pharmacy Shed where Manticores worked hard to create painkillers, medication and other chemicals with a very special material on hand.
Their venom enhanced by human qi, essence.
Manticores of Dunia were not winged lions with bat wings, but beautiful, lion-maned girls with paws, an upright human body, and a manticore tail that doubled as a...second orifice if they wanted to be so. Usually its spikes produced powerful demon-energy laden chemicals that did wonders for others if they ever bothered to become friends with one.
Outside was a sunny Sunday evening, where everyone worked hard to relax afterwards.
The Dark Elf village was always exotic, lewd and yet strangely rustic. Its purple stone spires for the nobler dark elves, and humbler, brick cottages for lesser beings and their slaves stood in perfect harmony, areas dotted with farmland, vineyards and other agricultural crafts, with the dark elves' property docilely working to maintain.
Rows of women and men worked the fields and vineyard, with a few dark elves watching them carefully, more out of habit than security. Most of their second generation slaves were mostly obedient, and glad to work for food, shelter, and protection from violence:
Dark Elves did not let any humans fight their wars for them.
