The Tale of Athlynna

As Green-Bitch had predicted, the fortress had managed to survive the greenskin attack in spite of all the carnage. The losses, nonetheless, as we could perfectly tell as soon as we saw the building rising again back into the horizon, had been significant. Serpents of smoke were still sliding across the gloomy sky from behind walls that now spotted severe cracks and impact craters allover their surface.

It took us way less to approach the fortress than it had taken us to flee away from it, since Xalren and Ochosso carried us over their shoulders all the way back like a sack of spices, our pace with our shackled feet too pathetically clumsy and slow to make us follow them on our own. As the two were coming back to the structure, both of our completely nude asses were perfectly visible atop the left shoulder of our respective carrier as we approached it but I barely minded. At least I did not have to walk through that coarse terrain in chains. In such position, I only noticed the pile of rotting dead orcs, goblins and hobgoblins near a low hill, some feet afar from the square of the wall, when we were close to the entrance. Soldiers and slaves were still bringing new greenskin corpses to the mound from inside the fortress, often dragging the blooded corpse of an orc orhobgoblin in pairs through the dry terrain. The shy buzzing of a cloud of flies hovering above the pile of cadavers was clearly audible even from a distance of several feet.

My heart pounded with sudden joy upon seeing Fit-Bitch, alive and well, carrying the corpse of a disemboweled hobgoblin to the pile with the help of Twice-Bitch. I dared a low whistle, not high enough to really bother humans but quite audible for us half-elves. Both Fit-Bitch and Twice-Bitch turned their heads as they were about to throw the body into the pile and their eyes sparkled with happiness as they met mine with a smile. A shadow of concern passed through the gaze of Twice-Bitch, nonetheless.

Inside the walls the mood was gloomy, closer to that of a defeat than avictory. The dead were being organized in consecutive rows along the yard, where the other slaves were doing everything they could to clean up the pools of blood and the milliard shards of broken stuff. The wounded were sitting, lying on the ground or pacing around everywhere. I recognized among them the lesbian warrior whose cunt had been serviced by Short-Bitch before the battle, sitting in a bench with a band wrapped around half of her bloodied head. A great deal of other familiar faces from the soldiers were either missing or lying in the rows, perpetually immobile. It seemed roughly a third of all soldiers there had been killed and another third wounded. And that without even counting those lost in the expedition that triggered the attack.

I would have given everything for a bath, still feeling the dried up cum of the greenskins over my breasts and torso and the cum of Ochosso in the inner side of my upper thighs. However, both our carriers dropped us in the yard and pointed to the other slaves cleaning up, before marching inside the fortress with the rest of the weapons recovered from the greenskins carried up in bags. At least, as we joined so the rest in the task of cleaning the yard, we could verify that Short-Bitch, Cute-Bitch and Tiny-Bitch were also fine. The good thing about being a slave is that, since nobody cares about you and can barely defend yourself, you are mostly ignored in thesekind of attacks. Only one of the Gylnean human slaves with shaved heads had been killed as she was reached in the neck by a lost arrow.

Hairy-Master appeared around noon. He walked around the yard, checking the wounded, the structural damages and taking a moment to mourn in front of the dead. Save for a scar across the ample chest and another one under his mouth, he looked physically unharmed. His gaze was lidded and somber, however. After completing his sad tour of the yard, he stood in front of Green-Bitch and me as we were in our knees, scratching the cobblestones of the ground close to the storage room to clean up dried blood. We immediately stopped what we were doing and lowered our heads to touch the ground with our foreheads, facing him. I presumed he asked a nearby Ochosso if we were the ones whotried to run away, to which the latter said yes. He then ordered us thrown into one of the dungeons.

As we stood in our damp cell moments latter, sitting on the cold ground with our backs against the wall and our arms raised up by the shackles keeping our hands above our heads, Green-Bitch noticed my sullenness against her. Our generous naked boobs were plainly visible but there was absolutely nothing we could do about it.

'I know what you are thinking' she started, speaking in Naecynian 'You think I was egotistical, that I mercilessly left the others behind. But if we would had tried to get them, we may had not made it anyway. And, with two of us outside and their forces diminished, we would have had greater chances of sneaking back inside for them...'

'You told me so' I coldly answered 'You better start telling that to them as well'

'I will. It was my decision'

One heavy silence filled the cell for a long moment. The guards passingby behind the bars were too tired and busy to delight themselves in the sight of our breasts more than a futile glance would allow them.

'That's not all, is it?' Green-Bitch suddenly asked.

'A half-dark-elf of all the things...'

'Do you think I really had a chance to refuse him?'

'Neither a chance nor a will, it seems' I glacially pointed out.

She lowered down her gaze.

'I am already quite ashamed of myself' she mumbled 'You do not have to poke at this wound'

'Don't you think about your husband?' I continued, unable to let it go 'Or your clan?'

When she looked up to me again there were tears in her eyes.

'My husband is dead, Athlynna' she said 'You know it too. Their lifeforce is gone, like that of all our men. They killed them all when they separated us by gender'

Her pain was genuine and I was starting to feel horrible about my own words, wishing I could take them back. Unfortunately, I was still shaken by what for our culture was one of the most absolute taboos: rutting with somebody carrying dark-elven blood. I was still trying to get through it, to digest the fact.

'I am sorry' I said before adding: 'But... A dark-elf, Leslone. By the Gods, you are an Ularo!'

'Not anymore'

I stared at her, speechless.

'Don't you understand? Naecynia no longer exists. We are nothing. Our clans, our titles, our degrees do not mean anything anymore. We are slaves. Holding back to remnants of our previous lives is only going to cause you even more harm'

'No! I refuse to accept that!' I promptly replied.

'You need to adapt, Athlynna. Or else you will only become weaker and more embittered as time goes by. You will end up hiding from reality into your own world and that will make you vulnerable. You must accept change and be ready to make the best of the new circumstances'

'By becoming a sleazy whore, obsessed with sex?'

I was actually angrier at our circumstances rather that at her attitude. I was expecting her now to become defensive, even wrathful at those insulting words. However, the woman formerly known as Leslone answered me in a gentle, patient and shockingly sweet tone:

'If necessary. In a situation that cannot possibly change, it is preferable to indulge in the pleasures available than to eke out in alifetime of total misery'

A couple of hours later, a pair of guards came and took us out of the cell. Just as Twice-Bitch had warned us, Hairy-Master was about to make an example of us in front of the other slaves in punishment for our escape. When the guards took us back into the central yard, most of the mess in the form of shards of materials and pools of blood and entrails had been already cleaned up. The dead and most of the wounded were still there where we had left them but now all the otherslaves had been gathered in the central part of the yard, forming a crowd surrounding a pair of large wooden frames that had been placed in the center. It was precisely the spot towards the guards drove us to. Hairy-Master happened to be there as well, pacing around in a more or less circular space left by the other slaves and the guards around the two wooden structures, which I noticed sported thick ropes hanging from the upper segment. With two swift movements of his big left hand he tore what was left of our miserable garments, leaving our nudity utterly exposed in front of everyone before making a quick nod with the head towards the structures that the guards interpreted immediately.

Once beneath one of the wooden frames, one rope hanging from the wood segment above my head was tied to my left wrist and another one to my right wrist. A second guard then tied two more ropes to each of my ankles. Before I could even mutter a plaintive gasp those ropes were mercilessly pulled back to the frame by the guards, forming my body to adopt an X shape as each of my four limbs was stretched towards the rectangular frame. The tension applied to the four rope was enough to suspend me within the frame like an insect fell into aspider web and I could not possibly move save for making a pathetic wiggling about the same position. To my left, Green-Bitch found herself in identical predicament.

Everybody was staring at our nude and defenseless bodies, so utterly exposed. Our shame instantly dissipated, however, when we heard the crack of the whip to our backs. Even although we knew Hairy-Master had promised not to harm the possessions of his friend, Master, our escape had forced him to jump over his word and to punish us. The first slash crossed my back like a trail of pure fire. Although technically it did not hurt as much as the magical whip of the matriarch, the wounds in my back were very physical this time and I soon felt rivers of scorching blood running through my terse back and buttocks. I clenched my teeth and lunged forward in pain but the ropes kept me firmly in place. A second crack of the whip fell on the flesh of Green-Bitch instead. Then came the third to my back, then the fourth to the back of my compatriot, then the fifth back to me. Albeit I had experienced greater torment under the wicked matriarch, the fact that the scars in my back were to remain for a long time, possibly for the rest of my days, made it heavier and worse.

The twenty first fell on me. Warm blood was running from the back into my firm ass, legs and feet to drip slowly onto the wooden segment at the bottom. By the twenty fifth slash my vision was becoming blurred and some forms were starting to appear double to me. I did manage to get a glimpse of Xalren passing through the crowd to meet a wounded officer, completely indifferent to the situation of the woman whose body he had enjoyed so much the previous night. He did not even glorify our punishment with a gaze.

After the thirtieth and final slash wounded the flesh of Green-Bitch there was a deep silence. I simply laid there like a piece of well-sculpted naked meat, suspended in the ropes. A generous trail of blood oiled my back, buttocks and back of the upper thighs in red and dripped onto the floor and lower segment of the construction that held me. My whole body seemed to burn in invisible but consuming flames and I could not raise my exhausted head, leaving flocks of disheveled dark-green hair to partially cover my face and exposed breasts. Hairy-Master then gave a short speech in which he managed to twist the situation around by pointing out that even under his promise toMaster of not harming our bodies he had still punished two slaves who dared to try to escape. As he walked out of the circle surrounding us, he left us for a while as we were then: totally naked and exhausted, bleeding from our backs, our legs open in a triangle and unable to cover ourselves, hanging from the four ropes at the center of each of the two structures. As I was expecting, most of the local slaves began throwing spare food at us the moment he stepped out of the crowd. Rotten tomatoes splashed, potatoes bounced off and cabbages burst open against our skin, albeit we barely had enough energy to actually even care. Our three compatriots tried to hold them back but were only partially successful. Tiny-Bitch and Short-Bitch were ruthlessly pushed to the ground by two of the brawnier human slaves while trying to help. Twice-Bitch did not participate in this last humiliation but neither did she try to stop the other slaves, as if taking the scene simply as part of the natural order of things. I saw Xalren again behind the line of cruel slaves as he passed by to get back into the fortress, without even superficially glancing once neither at Green-Bitch nor me.

All the group of slaves surrounding us was eventually ordered back to work, although as they passed by in front of us some would occasionally still throw stuff at us. We were left there in the meantime. A banana peel hit my left breast and slowly slid downwards through my naked skin, wet by sweat and juices from spoiled food. I could not directly stare at Green-Bitch in my position then but I fantasized about confronting her about her previous words. This was the kind of life that I was supposed to accept? Like really?

Caught in my thoughts like that, I did not notice the one wobbling its way towards me through the yard until he was right in front of the structure that held me. Not someone that I would thought to have survived the attack: the heir. His rounded face was adorned with a big, mischievous smile as he delighted himself with my position. Predictably, his armor and shield were intact all throughout, without a spot or strain to be seen, which I took as a hint that he had most likely hidden somewhere while his comrades were being slaughtered by the greenskins. I gnarled and launched a serious of heavy, if stupid I admit, puffs of air at him out of pure contempt. He obviously did not care one bit and his eyes went down to my perfectly exposed, defenseless pussy and its modest band of dark-green pubic hair. He made his way to in between my legs, knelt down and I felt his ox tongue licking my most intimate folds.

At first I threw an inarticulate cry of anger but, to my absolute embarrassment, I began to enjoy the movements of that dirty tongue within me. I tried to hold back the pleasure, refusing to accept it as coming from such a lowlife coward of a creature but he made me remember very well how he had inherited the sexual prowess and skills of his father. The thick, heavy and warm tongue enjoyed the taste of my fluids, toying around with my labia and clit and getting in and out in such an expert way that I began to moan. It was embarrassmentat its highest: in the center of the yard, surrounded by soldiers and other slaves alike, being pleasured orally by such an idiot. I had to close my eyes in order not to look at the cohort of astonished faces around us, while still groaning and squirming as much as I could in the grasp of my ropes.

The tongue stopped before I could reach my climax and suddenly something big and enormous, surprisingly cold, slid into me. I gasped and opened up my eyes to gaze down below. The heir had penetrated me with the sphere of a mace, thankfully not one of the spiked variety. As the thing went on, popping into and out of my cunt, I sensed my labia being outstretched painfully and my inner walls being stressed to their limit while trying to house the object. Yet, I enjoyed it. It was a maddening, insane admixture of pain and pleasure that brought me to renewed and shameful moans like a mad cat in heat. It was small compared to the others in the armory: the size of a punch. However, I still would have never thought that such a thing would fit inside me. He went on as such, fucking me with his mace and looking around with that idiotic smile of his, seeking to humiliate me even further and to meet the complicit enjoyment of others around. My body twitched in its fixed X pose every time the mace went inside my pussy and lascivious fluids soon began to flow down its handle. I absolutely abhorred him at that moment, yet I did not wish him to stop at all I must admit.

Some laughter began to rise up from the crowd of wounded. Unable to holdit back any longer, defenseless, used, I came in a high ecstatic cry that shamefully filled the yard. As the waves of my orgasms rippled through my body, depleting it of whatever strength was left in it, he took out the mace for a last time out of my vagina and began to lick the layer of my fluids that had bathed the hard war instrument. One wounded erupted in uncontrollable laughter somewhere out of my sight.

Not satisfied enough, he threw the mace away and grabbed my body by the hips. As I predicted, he then thrust his well-endowed meaty organ through my chastised folds, which, much to my chagrin, were eager to take in his dick even in spite of their recent ecstasy. He took me with the same rapid power with which he took me in the palace, albeit in a faster, more animalistic way than usual. Maybe he was afraid that some of the other men would interrupt him before he was able to finish. I did not really care. After the odd experience with the mace, I found it actually enjoyable, even while in front of so many peering eyes. Nobody was finding the sight as hilarious anymore, however, for it was just now the pitiful self-pleasuring spectacle of a weak man. I just closed my eyes and let my body feel the primal bliss of a good cock sliding inwards and outwards through my humid cavity, fucking me. I sensed and let my pussy enjoy the thrusts of that heavy glans and thick shaft, familiar to me from the palace.

It did not last very long. I could sense that my lack of fear was making him angry but before he could do anything else about it, he pathetically came. He filled my cavity with a good load of foamy cum that began to drool down to the soil from my slit as he finally took his cock out of me, panting and sweating. These droplets joined then the foul mixture of blood, splashed rotten tomatoes, leaves of cabbage and diverse other remnants of spoiled food between my legs. He then just picked his mace back up and wobbled away without looking up back at my face.

It was already darkening when one of the pigmen finally went to untie our ropes and liberate us, a couple of hours later. After accomplishing some last chores for the day, Green-Bitch and I went straight back to our quarters and fell asleep in our now much welcoming and seemingly cozier spots.