"Personally? Who does this King think he is? Does he rule here? He does not! The Chainer rules here. If your King wishes to rule here, then let him come. The bitch will be cleaned and examined and made ready for The Chainer, and you may be present when she is thrown to his mercies." The audience chuckled collectively, amused by the goblin's officious decree.
A couple of guards moved forward, and Knife was faced with the choice of handing over the leash or resorting to violence. He chose the former, dropping the gathered end of the rope into one guard's extended hand.
"Sorry, Elise," he said. "Not how I wanted things to go."
She spat in his face and then charged at him. The knee she'd aimed at his groin impacted his thigh as he turned to protect himself. The guard had yanked hard at the leash, pulling her back and throwing the attack off aim. Laughter filled the hall as Knife wiped his face, and Elise was dragged deeper into the fortress.
"Fuck you, Knife! When I get out of here I'm going to feed you your balls! Your balls, you fucking coward!"
"Shut up, cunt," a guard growled and punched her in the kidney.
She grunted in pain and struggled to keep her feet, stumbling as the other guard kept up a relentless pressure on her lead that threatened to send her tumbling to the ground. They led her through several passages to an open doorway, elegantly decorated in carved vines. The space they emerged into had the look and feel of a temple, though Elise's perspective quickly shifted when she noticed the naked women assembled around it in various stages of bathing. Some moved slowly between various positions that displayed their bodies whilst others moved more quickly in dances that did the same. A woman cried out in pain as she was struck by a leather lash, and burst into tears.
The carvings on the walls were not the sort to be found in any temple Elise had ever frequented. Indeed, they were of a piece with the activities that had just disabused her of the notion that she was in a temple - and even more extreme, at that.
"Yes, masters?" a voice purred.
Elise dragged her attention back to her immediate environs and saw a vision. The woman was clearly a drow, and equally clearly a woman. Long, white hair with the texture of silk was braided behind her, the tip resting just above the cleft of her ass. Her feet were immaculate, decorated with intricate white designs, and set in a dancer's pose. Her legs were long and led to hips that were broad, feminine, and earthier than those of any Elf that Elise had ever seen. A white silk loincloth dangled between her legs, reaching down to her calves front and back; it was blindingly bright against her midnight-black skin. The loincloth had been tied to form an elegant belt that sat low on those hips. Her belly was impossibly flat, and her belly button was pierced by a piece of jewelry that held a bright ruby. Her breasts were, like her hips, too full for an Elf, and too perky and well-shaped for any mortal. More white designs were traced on her hands and wrists, and about her neck. Like the ones on her feet, the patterns were elegant and floral, with thorns drawn in among the leaves and flowers. The drow's face was like something an artist would draw and know that he'd never again achieve that level of perfection. The smile was genuine, the lips parted just enough to invite the observer to consider that they might penetrate them.
And then the eyes spoiled the entire effect. They were bright, and blue, and sparkled, but Elise immediately saw malignant death in them. She knew she was looking at Lysetta. Knife had failed to do her justice - both her seductive peaks and valleys, and her wicked depths.
"A present for The Chainer," the guard said, handing over Elise's leash.
"Thank you, master," the drow breathed, her tone making it clear that she wished she could thank him by fulfilling his every desire, and especially his most depraved ones.
The guard hesitated before turning away. His hand reached up to Elise's chin and his thumb rubbed across her lips. She opened her mouth and tried to bite it, but pain lanced along the end of the rope, into her throat and sex, before grounding in her feet against the floor.
She gasped and fell to her knees, her head swimming as she struggled to stay conscious while the laughter of the guards trailed slowly away.
"Foolish and easy to manipulate," the drow pronounced in tones that still implied she would soothe all of Elise's desires.
Elise wanted to snap back in defiance, but her skin was still trembling from the pain, and she felt sick.
"Chugka," the drow called. The voice, again, was melodic, soothing, enticing, and full of promise, but the word was a command - a name, too, as a half-orc came into view. If the drow was polished perfection, the half-orc was untamed desire. Her legs were long and well-shaped, but clearly powerful. Her hips were wide and her mons was bare. Her breasts were large, tipped by large, dark areolas. Her freckled face lacked the porcelain perfection of the drow's, but offered up as a substitute a sly, naughty cast that suggested barely restrained lust. Her hair was raven and unrestrained and curled mostly down her back. A gold collar rested about her neck.
"Mistress?" the half-orc asked.
"A gift for our master," the drow said. "I expect he will wish her to be presented at tonight's court. Have her collared, work her hard, let her rest a bit, clean her up, and have her ready for court."
"Yes, mistress," the half-orc replied. She took the proffered leash in her hand and waited until the drow had glided away before giving it a tug. "Get up, new cunt, or it will go badly for you."
Elise rose to one knee, steadied herself, and then stood fully upright.
"I'd say the first time is the worst," her captor said, "but I'd be lying. It gets worse every time. It's as though Mistress Lysetta can find new places to hurt. You're all prepared for the pain to be like the last time, but it comes from a different direction and you're down on the floor, puking."
Elise made no reply.
"I wish I could do that," the slave said with rampant sincerity, "but I can't, so I'll just have to use a lash." She tugged on the lead, pulling Elise towards the area where other women were moving about. A few got out of their way as they approached.
"Silk rope," the half-orc observed. "Someone was being nice to you. A lover?"
Elise choked on a harsh laugh. "A lover? No, a...former friend. Said he didn't want to damage me before I was 'gifted.'"
"Lucky you," Chugka said. She turned and took hold of the rope just above where it disappeared between the lips of Elise's sex and began to manipulate it, tugging it, moving it from side to side. "Can you imagine what this would have felt like with a regular rope?"
Elise squirmed slightly and tried to keep her eyes fixed on the half-orc's green eyes, but she was very sensitive from the walk and the ride, and the girl knew how to move the rope against her - how to press a finger down the length of the rope and between her wet lips. Elise's legs moved wider to regain her balance, and the pressure of the rope and Chugka's finger posed an imminent danger of something far more terrifying to Elise in that moment than pain. Her eyes darted to the side and she tried to control her breathing.
Chugka laughed - a coarse, bawdy chuckle - and licked the tip of her finger clean before selecting a leather lash from the wall. She gave it a twirl and made the many flat, leather strands whistle faintly.
"Sometimes," she said, "fear of the unknown is stronger than fear of the known." Her arm blurred, and the lash swung low, passing between Elise's thighs. The ends reached up to curl around the cheeks of her ass like the hand of an angry giant, and the tips snapped at both the top of her ass and her hands, which were bound at the bottom of her back. She jumped and grunted in pain.
"I'm Chugka," the half-orc said, "and you're nobody. If I beat you to death and tell them you were rebellious, they'll thank me for it and probably give me a little reward, so if you think you're going to fight this process and that the pain has to stop somewhere short of death, you're wrong. Kneel."
It took Elise a moment to shift gears, and then she slowly started to comply. The lash dragged across her belly and snapped against her flank. She grunted again.
"Too slow," the half-orc said cheerfully. "Try again. Kneel."
Elise dropped to her knees as fast as she could without hurting herself. The lash slapped against her breasts, and she whimpered audibly.
