MOTDE: Head for the western-wing where Trix resides B1
From Create Your Own Story
The journey to the ambassadors quarters takes you through the plundered palace. Faylin´s face distorts in pain as she sees the desecrated portraits and toppled statues of her ancestor. An even worse, soul-clenching expression grips her face as you walk by an room where the hellish screams of young surface-elves can be heard. The torturous shrieks emit from just that, torture, inflicting pain can be as arousing as sex. Whatever dark elf mistress occupies that room does it not for information or compliance, but because their young, helpless cries feed her sadistic arousal.
...
The door to the ambassadors quarters stand wide open when you get there, seeing this as an invitation you enter unannounced. Leading your priced slave into the large, circular-shaped room you find the residence as plundered as the rest of the palace. The shelves have been toppled over, the carpet is displaced and the chandelier has been cut down from the ceiling.
Turning your head to your right you see the sleeping body of Trix laid out on the sheets of a comfortable-looking bed. Her body is decorated only in golden jewelry, no doubt loot from last night's plunder. She wears a pair of bracelets, anklets, a belly chain, and a very large necklace. The shine of the golden ornaments contrasting wondrously with her light darkish skin. They do not conceal her perky breasts or her deliciously pink pussy though.
On the other end of the room you find two slaves, one as old as Faylin, the other as young as Faylin´s daughters, in severe bondage. Both their upper bodies are folded over a metal pipe at a 90 degree angle. This holds their upside-down heads at the same level as their widely splayed legs. Their wrists are tied togheter behind their back with normal rope. Their ankles through are shackled, and a strained chain runs from those shackles to a slave-collar fastend around their throats. This prevents them from moving, as attempting to move either their heads or feets would be prevented by the chain.
Just from looking at them you can see that they are not of the same ethnicity as the elves of Heartwood forest. Their skin is pale, and they posses luxurious, long blonde hair. That long golden hair has been cruelly braided into a single rope-like lock of hair, that is then tied around the end of a anal-plug that is lounged into their buttholes.
Not soon after you´ve entered, muffled cries begin to be heard from the naked, foreign captives. Trix has also installed mouth-gags to quell their protests. The sound is obviously a desperate cry for help, but since you are clearly Drow, you wonder why they even bother.
"A splendid piece of bondage don´t you think slave-Queen?"
"Yes Mistress Daine," Faylin says, knowing you would punish her if she answers truthfully.
"It so skillfully emphasize their primary fuckholes. What's an appropriate slave name for those two holes slave?"
"Cunt and anus," she responds with much embarrassment, which you love to hear.
Trix turns her head in her sleep and moans, almost awaking from your conversation.
"Go give the second-in-command a proper awakening slave," you casually command and point at Trix´s exposed and defenseless clit.
"Yes Mistress Daine," she responds again, and walks over to the bed.
She kneels down and gently laps the sensitive clit with her tongue. Instantly the Drow´s limbs begin to shift position.
"Hmm, yes slave..." Trix purrs in her sleep as the Queen´s tongue continues to slavishly stroke her pleasure box.
Suddenly Trix´s eyes pop wide open, aware that something is wrong.
"Fancy yourself a Queen huntress Trix?" You remark at her expansive sleepwear.
"C-Commander!" Trix exclaims and quickly kicks Faylin off her so that she can get up and perform a bow. "I-I mean High-Huntress Daine!" She says and bows again.
You chuckle at your second-in-commands awkwardness. "Lie down on the bed again Trix. You look really exotic and seductive in all that jewelry."
Trix slowly and stylishly lies back down on the bed. She sits down on her rump, and then lies down on the side while spreading her legs to once again expose her attractive pinkness. She also makes sure that her breasts are exposed for your pleasure, and keeps a fawning expression on her face masking a deeper nervousness. "You are here about my position as a second-in-command I presume High-Huntress?" She asks.
Once again you chuckle, "no, no huntress Trix. I am just out for a stroll and thought I pass by." After those words you stroll over to the two restrained slaves. "Slave Queen! Here, now!" You bark at her, totally unlike the soft, friendly voice you keep with Trix.
Faylin immediately runs over, fearful she casts her head low.
"Oh the charms of fresh, untrained slaves," you say and stroke Faylin´s lips. The regent lightly trembles at your touch.
You ignore her inexperienced wrongdoings and turn to the two naked, apple-shaped butts pointing at you. They are both large and firm, excellent specimens, although the older ones is somewhat greater.
"Ahh, high-elf ass-meat, I could recognize it anywhere," you say and place your hands on the ample buttocks. You begin lightly kneading the bountiful butt-globes, the mature woman seems to give off a muffled whimper at you touch.
"I assume this is the ambassador I´m groping, and the younger one is her daughter?"
"You are correct High-Huntress. I personally defeated, subdued and claimed them both for my pleasure last night."
"Good, good," you reply while continuing to knead the wonderful behind. "You know about the high-elves don´t you huntress Trix?" It´s a silly question, especially to a woman from Char, but you ask none-the-less.
"Yes High-Huntress," she replies, not having moved out of the bed.
"Tell me about them huntress Trix." Of course you already know the answer, you just want the Queen and captives to hear this.
"All surface-elves are our enemies. The high-elves are the strongest and all-around most beautiful of the surface-elves. They are also their de-facto leaders in times of war."
"What do they look like, what is their ethnic characteristics?" You ask and pinch the butt-meat.
"All of them are blond, blue-eyed and posses an arousing curvaceous figure. Their butt- and tit-meat are of the greatest quality, just like their naturally hot and tight orifices. The skin-tone of a high-elf ranges from milky-white to slightly tanned. This, combined with their ethnical pride, haughtiness and high social statues, makes them the perfect sex slaves. Successfully breaking, taming, and training a high-elf is considered among the greatest pleasures and most impressive feat a Drow can perform."
"Good summarization," you casually compliment her. Now you´re only stroking the skin of the butt with your fingertips. "Now tell me, when Velzaria marched on the surface under the leadership of my mother High-Matriarch Mecinia, what part did the high-elves play in that conflict?"
"They..." Trix has a hard time picking her words. "They drove us back to the underworld."
At the end of her words you harshly dig your fingernails into the woman's lively ass-globes. She screams into the gag in pain. Faylin also flinches in terror, seeing the pain up-close that you inflict on her. But after cruelly cranking your fingernails into her anal-flesh for about five seconds you let go and resume talking to Trix in your soft, feminine voice, "yes Trix, that they did."
You release the stinging ass and opt instead for her pussy. Three fingers break past her nether-lips where they pump and wiggle around in her insides. Another fingers finds her clit and begin stimulating the little bud. Your aim is to make her wet.
While playing with the sexual organ you begin to speak, "as you said Trix, the high-elves are the most valuable slaves on the market. Any normal High-elf woman could easily outsell a Heartwood forest woman on any slave market," you turn to face Faylin directly. "They are a much more valuable stock than your subjects are surface-Queen. Their prices are much heftier and the status of owning one is a lot higher!" You bark with a stern, accusing voice.
Conflict reigns on the surface-elven Queen´s face. She understands you obviously want her to feel humiliated and angry over this fact. But she cannot bring herself to muster even the fakeness of such an emotion over such an depraved and immoral subject. Desperate to appease you and go unpunished the expression on her mature face turns into something in-between humiliation, anger and sadness.
The mature high-elves cunt has begin moistening itself to your touch. Satisfied with the volume of girl-cum she´s produced you retract your fingers and look at the glistering wetness.
"Open your mouth slave," you spitefully command the Queen.
This is far from the worst you´ve forced her to do, so she complies, "yes Mistress."
You stick your lubed fingers in her mouth. "Lick them clean," you say with a calmer voice than usual. She promptly does so, sucking the high-elf juices off your fingers.
"How does it taste slave?" You ask her.
"I-It tastes very nice Misstress Daine." She stutters forth.
"Tastes very nice? A Queen should be more articulate! Come up with a description that really stimulates my senses or you will be giving your opinion on my piss surface-slave!" You say, returning to your barking voice.
"T-The nectar from this high-elf's cunt-hole is exquisite Mistress. Her mature age gives it a strong, concentrated flavor that only a mother could provide," The Queen retorts nervously.
"Better, but don´t think I will be giving you many more second-chances in the future surface-Queen."
You turn to face Trix again. She hasn´t moved, still naked and looking gorgeous in the jewelry. You shot her a sly, wicked leer. She smiles back with the same emotion. She knows what you mean, you´ve just signaled her to play along.
"Well you face quite a tuff choice here Trix. You could sell these two for a fortune, but then you´ll lose the vast social status you gain from owning them. What will you do?"
"Oh I think I´ll sale one of them and keep the other. Too bad, since owning a mother daughter couple is heavenly."
"Which one will you sale?" You ask.
"That one," she says and points at the younger one.
"The daughter. Why?"
"Her tongue doesn't have the skill of her mother."
"Ahh, well I heard the orc breeding dens are short on women. They would love to have her."
The bodies of the mother and daughter instantly tenses and screams are emitted in muffled form from their mouths. The thought of an orc breeding den has sent them into panic.
"But maybe we should give her another test to see if she is a keeper or not," you say. "Just a different test."
