As Tenielle shivered in the dark, cold cell, she prayed to whichever gods, elf or human, still deigned to listen to the heart of a poor slave girl. ‘Please,’ she begged, her black lips moving in the musty air as she silently mouthed the word. The chains suspending her arms from the ceiling rattled as she moved. ‘Whatever the humans do to me, please, please, please don’t let there be rats…’
The very thought make her brain seize and her heart stop. The last family she’d been enslaved to had kept her in a cellar, where every night she would need to stay awake, listening for the chittering, the pitter patter of those feet and screaming at every rustle in the straw or glint in the shadows. Every time she closed her eyes she could still see her mother’s face as the hateful things burrowed their way into her guts, the way her huge round eyes had bugged from her head, the humans holding her down, her screams echoing in Tenielle’s ears as the starving rats ate her heart…
The cell door creaked open, and Tenielle looked up in fear, recoiling at the presence of the magical ball of light; her eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness. the guards wore the sigil of the inquisition – a cross upon which hung a crucified elf – but they were flanking a dark haired woman with beautiful green eyes… the same woman who had plucked her out of that cellar earlier. She was tall, taller than both the guards and wearing a full suit of armor, and those eyes, though filled with intelligence, were nevertheless hard and glittering with purpose.
“M-m-mistress Elira,” Tenielle bowed her head. “H-how may I serve you?”
“Leave us,” Elira said, removing her armored gauntlets. The two guards bowed and closed the cell door, leaving Tenielle and Elira alone with the ball of magical light.
“Shall I make it brighter?” Elira said, twisting a hand. The glow increased and Tenielle winced and recoiled. “Darker then. My apologies.” She made another gesture and the light dimmed. “I would have thought that after generations, you dark elves would no longer be light sensitive. I suppose helping you get over your weakness was never high on my ancestor’s priorities, though… was it?” She smiled a little, as if she’d just made a joke to herself.
“Thank you my lady,’ Tenielle bowed her head. “You are most gracious.”
“Skin as black as obsidian…” Elira said, leaning in close to inspect Tenielle. “I lived with an dark elf slave once… but she hadn’t been quite as dark skinned as you. I wonder if originally you’re closer to what a Dark Elf was supposed to look like, and she had too much surface elf in her ancestry by then… or if there was just that much variation.” She sighed. “Our texts really don’t say much about it, I’m afraid… not a good state for the curious.” Tenielle wasn’t sure what to say, so she remained silent as Elira turned, dragging a wooden chair over in front of Tenielle. “I understand,” she said as she sat down, beginning to remove her breastplate, “that your family used to have another elf slave.’
“Yes my lady,” said Tenielle. “Yuria.”
“What happened to her?” Elira asked, setting the steel aside and casually continuing to take off her armor. Beneath it, she was wearing a simple cotton tunic and what appeared to be woolen breeches.
Tenielle kept her eyes on the human’s face as she spoke next. “I don’t know, my lady. She was with us for perhaps a decade before she disappeared.”
“Disappeared,” said Elira, smiling. “Convenient.”
“You and Yuria were kept in separate rooms, am I correct?” she asked as she continued undressing.
“Yes my lady,” Tenielle agreed.
Tenielle swallowed. “…I do not know, My lady.”
“Could you hazard a guess?” Elira asked, smirking as she removed first one armored boot, then the other.
“…our masters did not want us to scheme against them…?”
“Scheme? Interesting. Interesting,” said Elira, sitting back in her chair, fully unarmored, with a sigh of satisfaction. “How very interesting that your first thought is scheming against your masters. Did you do that a lot, Tenielle? Scheme against your masters?”
“No my lady!” Tenielle all but shouted, fear shooting through her. “No, I swear! I was a good elf! Ask them! No trouble at all! None!”
“And yet… Yuria disappeared,” the Inquisitor said softly. “Right around the time the elven rebels were sighted near the city. Are you familiar with the elf slave rebellion?” Elira said, waving her hand idly, causing the magical light to dance and flitter.
Tenielle, for the first time, began to realize it might be wiser not to say anything to this woman. She shut her mouth, and kept it shut. “Ah,” Elira said, her smile growing at Tenielle’s quivering lips. “You’re learning. First time with the inquisition, then?”
“…My lady… Please… I’ve done nothing wrong…” Tenielle sobbed, tears flowing from her black eyes.
“Full black,” Elira noted, peering into her eyes. “Dark on Dark. Syllia didn’t have those. Definitely a half-breed then.”
“I speak truly, my lady!” the dark elf protested. “Torture me all you like. I don’t know where Yuria went. Please, just please let me go…”
“Tenielle,” Elira said, as matter of fact as if she were inquiring about the price of bread. “Did you and Yuria ever make love?”
Tenielle halted in her begging. “…My lady?”
“Did. You ever. Fuck,’ Elira repeated, her chin resting on her hand.
“…Our masters…” Tenielle gulped. “They made us… embrace… sometimes…”
“Embrace!” Elira barked with laughter. “Oh gods, you’ve got to be nearly ten times my age. How are you so innocent?” She got her laughter under control. “What did you ‘embrace’ of her, Tenielle. Tell me.”
“…Her, her b-b-b-reasts…” Tenielle was suddenly aware of how naked she was, swinging from the ceiling, of the glint in Elira’s eyes. “…Her… her lips… her l-lower parts…”
“Which lower parts?” Elira said, her voice huskier than usual.
“You can say ‘cunt,’ Tenielle. Go on.”
“Her c-c-c-unt my lady,” Tenielle whispered.
“Did you lick her?” Elira asked, leaning forward. “Did you eat her little elf cunt while your masters watched?” Tears spilled onto Tenielle’s full, firm breasts, nearly black nipples on black skin, as she nodded. Elira stood, leaning close to her. “Are you good at it?”
“M-my lady?” Tenielle could feel Elira lowering the chains which held her aloft, her feet touching the ground for the first time in… hours? Days?
“How well do you eat cunt, Tenielle?” Elira breathed, her words hot in the elf’s ear as she pushed her shoulders down, forcing the girl to her knees. “I’ve been busy, making plans… and I haven’t had my cunt eaten in a week…”
Tenielle’s shoulders shook as she watched Elira unbutton her breeches, pulling the fabric down to half-thigh. the hair between her legs was dark above soft, puffy folds that ached red with need. As Elira pushed her face down into the musky hair and pale skin, Tenielle reached out with her long, black tongue and heard the human hiss with pleasure as she delved into her wetness.
“Gods, if elf tongue wasn’t designed for exactly this, I can’t imagine what else it was for… I love the way it feels,” Elira moaned as Tenielle ate her, her white fingers curling in the girl’s white hair. “You know Tenielle, I’ve had my cunt eaten by the finest courtesans and whores in all the world. At official events, they send girl after girl to my chambers, trying to woo me, seduce me, get information from me… and I can’t say any of them were less than supremely skilled in the arts of oral pleasure. But – ahh! – none of them, not a single human girl, has managed to beat the feeling of your elf tongue buried in my quim.” Elira stroked Tenielle’s ear. “No wonder you’re entire race was destined to become pleasure slaves. Look at me… I want to see those pretty beautiful eyes…”
Tenielle looked up, and she could feel it as Elira shook with arousal at the sight of the girl’s full black eyes staring up at her while her charcoal lips were kissing her white skin, her dark hair flanked by Elira’s pale thighs…
“Yuria must have had quite the time,” moaned Elira as she rode the girl’s face, pushing the back of her head, forcing her deeper into her folds. “And your masters must have had quite the show if this is your level of – aaahhh – skill…”
Tenielle shut her eyes and focused on her unpleasant task. She was, as she counted, two hundred and eighty seven years old, and never once in that time had she had sex that she enjoyed. She did, however, know how to put – As Elira put it – a show for when they made her lay with Yuria with her mouth, or her fingers, or that wooden thing they often put between her legs. She had had centuries of practice at making it look good, her hands cupping her full breasts, her neck arching, her mouth open, her black tongue wetting her jet lips as she moaned and gasped in exaggerated fashion. It looked good… but she had never experienced joy in it. Not once. As the human Inquisitor came, panting and humping Tenielle’s face, she felt a tiny pang – it would be nice to feel that way, at least once.
“Oh godssss,” moaned Elira as she brought the elf to her feet. “I needed that so badly…” she said before kissing her tenderly, right on the mouth. Tenielle felt the human’s soft lips press against her own wet mouth, tasting her slit of the elf’s mouth as her tongue gently sliding over her skin, and… oh… oh there was something happening… some jolt or another down below…
Tenielle felt herself leaning into the human’s kiss, felt herself open her mouth hungrily, pushing, grasping, desperate. she felt the human tenderly bite her lower lip and Tenielle moaned, really moaned, for the first time in her life. As Elira’s hand clasped her neck and palmed her breast, Tenielle’s head span as she sought any scrap of sensation she could, arching her back, kissing the human, licking her lip, dueling her tongue…
Elira reached between Tenielle’s legs, pushing her fingers inside the girl’s night-black skin. “You’re so slick…” she moaned into the elf’s mouth. “I need to be inside you…”
Tenielle was vaguely aware of a pulsing light emanating from below, and she felt a familiar hardness against her thigh. Looking down, she saw that the Inquisitor’s magic had conjured herself a large, thick shaft. It was far from the first time she had seen a woman do it, but never before had it filled her with anything but dread. Now, in her addled mind, Tenielle felt… almost giddy anticipation. All that was going inside her…?
“My lady…” Tenielle spoke, her voice quavering.
“Oh, I’ll be gentle,” promised Elira, nipping her teeth against Tenielle’s neck, causing flutters of prickling skin all the way down to her toes… what was this human doing to her? “You’re so beautiful, Tenielle… has anyone ever told you that?”
Despite herself, Tenielle could feel a blush forming in her cheeks as her loins burned with need for the first time in her centuries of life. Elira was so strong… the muscles of her arm toned and flexing beneath her tunic sleeves as she hoisted Tenielle’s legs, pressing her erection against the elf’s quavering hips. “My lady,” said Tenielle, unable to think of anything else to say. Beautiful? Her? Sexy, yes… whorish, slutty… humans had said those things about her while they ogled her full chest – which Elira was currently suckling – or her lush hips – which Elira’s hands were currently caressing – or her pert, bee-stung lips – which Elira was now kissing, nipping, lashing with her wet, warm, tongue. But beautiful? As Elira’s cock pushed past the exterior of Tenielle’s sex, she felt herself gasping as something completely new filled her – a snickering, tingling sensation that became warmth in her belly and fire in her loins. “M-my lady!” repeated Tenielle as she felt herself filled with more than she had ever felt in her entire life. “My lady! Oh goddess!!!”
“You may call me Elira,” smirked the human as she thrust into the dark elf, smirking. “But if you must say goddess, I suppose I will take that.”
“Elira,” moaned Tenielle as the human fucked her. “Elira, oh gods, yes… more… more… Oh! I’ve never felt… anything like this!”
“First time for everything,’ muttered Elira, still slathering kisses on Tanielle’s neck and chest as she looped the chain around the elf’s neck and pulled, making Tanielle moan and scream at the sensation, pain mixed with erotic ecstasy, the feeling of being filled by Elira’s cock as her head was yanked backwards, steel on her obsidian skin. “Have your masters ever choked you, Tanielle?”
“Not… like… this…” moaned the elf as Elira bounced the girl against her hips, one hand on her ass and the other gripping the chains. “Gods… gods, what is this… I… I…”
“Cum for me Tenielle,” moaned Elira as she thrust into the elf girl, rubbing her dark clitoris, her own small breasts bouncing on her chest as she fucked the elf. “Cum for me…’
Tenielle’s head was yanked backwards as Elira pulled hard on the chains, but the scream from her mouth was pure pleasure. “Aaah! AHHH!!! I’m… I’m cumming!!!”
Tenielle had the first orgasm in her nearly three hundred years of life, screaming and panting and groaning as the wave of impossible ecstasy washed through her. Was that was humans felt every time they fucked her? No wonder they did it so often… by the forgotten gods she felt like every part of her was dying and being reborn all at once… and an explosion of fire in her cunt as Elira came, shooting jet after jet of molten seed into her aching, needy body.
“My lady,” moaned Tenielle, as all too soon Elira pulled away, a beatific smile on her face. “Oh, my lady…” smiled Tenielle. “I’ve… I’ve never felt anything like this in my entire life…”
“I know,” whispered Elira, panting, moaning against Tenielle’s ear. “You really are exceptional, elf… Really good. One of the better lovers I’ve had in my life. Truly.”
“T-thank you my lady…” Tenielle moaned. She felt… odd joy… at having pleasured her lover, like it set fire to her skin. Oh gods, she could live in this moment of pure bliss forever…
“You really don’t know where Yuria is, do you?” Elira whispered into her pointed ear, pausing to nibble on it for a second.
“No, my lady…” Tenielle whispered. Right now, just to stay with her a few more moments, she would have said anything. There was no secret she wouldn’t have shared.
“I didn’t think so. It’s such a shame,” Elira clucked her tongue, her sweat-soaked forehead still pressed against Tenielle’s. “If you did, I could have kept you around for a bit longer while we hunted her down.”
Elira yanked the chain, pulling Tenielle just a few inches upward – enough for her toes to barely touch the cold floor. The dark elf screamed a gasping, choking scream as her body weight began to hang on her throat, desperately trying to push her toes into the stone to prevent her from strangling as Elira looped the chain around the lever, stopping it from falling further.
“My lady!” gasped Tenielle. “Please!”
“I wouldn’t waste that breath,” Elira said, pulling her breeches up and reaching for her armor. “The last girl I did this to took two hours to die, but you look a little lighter than her. Pretty sure you could break that record if you tried.”
Tenielle gasped and danced, her hands still stretched above her head, her toes bruising as they tried to hold all her weight. “Last chance Tenielle,” said Elira, pulling on her breastplate. “Yuria. We know she’s with the rebel army. If you tell us where we can find her…”
“My lady…” Tenielle choked out, the chain biting into her neck. “I… I swear…”
Elira sighed, giving the elf one final, loving look as she drank in her black skin, her firm breasts jiggling as she struggled, her pretty face and long legs. “Oh Tenielle,” Elira said. “I wish I could keep you as my pet… such a pretty little thing. So talented too. But… no. It wouldn’t do for the head of the Inquisition to have an elf consort of her own.”
“Please, I’m innocent!” Tenielle gasped. “I don’t know where she is, I don’t, I don’t, I don’t!”
Elira leaned up to kiss the elf’s forehead. “I believe you,” she said softly. “Joseph was innocent, too. Goodbye, lover.” And Elira left the room, bringing the ball of light with her and casting the room into darkness… and no matter how long Tenielle stared at that door, fighting for her life, the door never opened again. She didn’t know how long passed as she struggled for life, fighting for breath as her feet grew weaker and weaker and weaker…
The penultimate thought that went through Tenielle’s head as she strangled in the darkness, choking and rasping on the chain, was that the rippling and undulating and spasming that went through her lower half as her brain slowly shut down… all of that felt suspiciously like an orgasm…
The final thought was ‘at least there were no rats.’
Elira had made one mistake in her whole life… she hadn’t put that whore in her place when she had a chance.
She had spent her life trying to win her father’s approval… and then he had died. It had taken weeks for news of that to reach her… even though from best guesses she had barely escaped the fate of the Tarn household herself, possibly leaving just hours before the killing had started. Her mother, dead. Her father, dead. Both of those she might have been able to live with, eventually… although finding out how, precisely, her mother had died filled her with rage. But Joseph? He had never hurt anyone… he had been good. He had been kind. He had loved her! He’d been like the father she’d never had.
And he had been butchered like a dog so thoroughly that they had to reassemble the bits like a shattered statue.
After that, there really hadn’t been much of a question where she was going. The Inquisition’s primary duties, when they weren’t protecting the weak people on the throne from the machinations of the noble houses, was hunting down runaway slaves… and Syllia’s was one of the bodies they didn’t find. Most thought that the Tarns had been wiped out by a rival house, jealous of how much power they were accumulating towards the Imperial Throne. Most thought that Syllia’s body being gone was a sign that the captors had taken the valuable elf slave as their own. Elira wasn’t sure how she knew better, even then… but she had known.
Syllia had done this. She didn’t know how, but she knew… and Elira was going to find Syllia if it was the last thing she did, and she was going to repay Joseph’s death with interest.
She had tried to tell everyone… and no one had listened. Now, the Empire was doomed. Elira had seen maybe a dozen elf slaves left in the capital in the last month… the rebels had been sneaking into the city, coming up from below and killing everyone in a household, freeing their slaves and taking them with them. Once families had gotten the idea that having a slave in their house was a death sentence, they had nearly-universally given them up, sent them wandering on the streets… where Elira didn’t doubt that most of those had found their way into the rebel army as well. Those that had refused to give up their sex-slaves near-universally met a grisly end. If the Inquisition really wanted to they could perform a census, but Elira felt no need… she was perfect sure that of a population of nearly 50,000 elf slaves in the Empire 20 years ago, there were maybe one or two hundred still in captivity. Those left were free.
To some degree, Elira suspected that the nobles had hoped that with all the slaves free, the killing would stop… that the rebels would take their people and go. She wanted to laugh at their innocence. Blood had been spilled in rivers already… this was a war of extinction now, and if they were too stupid to realize it they needed to be moved aside to make room for someone who would do what was necessary. Someone like her. If only they had listened to her sooner. She’d spent years and years trying to convince people that the deaths were the fault of elves… but no one had listened. Hell, people had called her a filthy elf lover and a sympathizer for even thinking they were capable. There would be no more whispers like that now… Between her family lineage, talent, and being proven right when every other idiot was wrong, she had been elevated to leadership of the Imperial Inquisition. Now, everyone knew of the gathering army… and when she returned with the head of the rebel leader on a pike, then the power of the Inquisition would no longer be behind the scenes. She would take the throne of this defunct empire herself, and she would finish what her ancestors had started and smash these filthy knife-ears into powder.
As effectively the head of what was left of House Tarn and the head of the inquisition, she had plenty of power that people sought. She had never had the same lover in her bed more than twice, and never in a row. Her life had been filled with a succession of men and women… all doe-eyed, innocent things who wanted her to dominate them, hurt them… but who really just wanted something from her. Power, or information, or loyalty. She longed for more, but… Elira knew, deep in her soul, that she didn’t deserve it. It was that elf whore’s fault. She had raped and tortured dozens of elves in her quest to find Syllia, watching the light leave each of their eyes as she murdered them. The years of lonely searching capped off nearly her entire career of breaking slaves for information, questioning, torturing, extracting. From a captured raider who she had force fed her own womb while fucking her in the bowels, she learned that Syllia’s forces slipped into cities via underground tunnels, freeing a slave elf before murdering everyone in the house that had ever abused her and sealing the exit behind them, making it as though they had vanished into thin air, raiding the big cities to add to their armies. From a slave who had endured over thirty twists of the pear inside her pussy before she broke, Elira had learned where the army was camping, hidden magically in the very forests near the capital. From a soldier who had been wounded and captured in the successful assassination of Duke Thelin, though, she had learned the greatest secret of all. With Elira’s cock heading towards the girl’s brain, the elf had screamed out loud the single word that would crush the rebellion once and for all… the name of their goddess.
Rage flooded Elira’s heart. She had grown strong… absurdly strong. Along among humanity, the Inquisition’s mages still practiced High Magic as a art of war, rather than one of commerce or culture… but even so, her talents had eclipsed theirs. Elira gave herself even odds that she might be the strongest mage left in the empire, but even if she wasn’t there were no more than a handful as strong as she… and though it galled Elira to admit it, she couldn’t match Syllia’s strength.
But there was more than one way to skin an elf.
Most of the empire was giving into despair, falling deeper into hedonism and living completely in the moment as they enjoyed what they felt would be their last days. Elira was not. How she wished, every single day, she had made a scar on Syllia when her Father had tried to let her… but it was too late for that regret. If she had, then defeating Syllia would be simple. She hadn’t… but it didn’t matter anyway. Elira knew someone else, something unknown to any but a select few… that there had been another of the house of Tarn who’s body had not been found. They still had one hope, at least.
She just needed her baby brother.