Chapter 25 – Interviews with Slaves – The Leftovers

We had six dark elves, stolen from the personal harem of Lord Anthony, nine beastkin of various flavours, stolen from the torture brothel’s basement, and nine others, also stolen from the brothel. Those nine that fell into the ‘miscellaneous’ category were now sitting in the drawing room with us.

I counted six elves, three high elves, and three low elves. There were no purple dark elves amongst the general brothel slave population, I supposed Lord Tony snagged them all for his personal collection. Aside from the elves, there were also two halflings, and a single dwarven woman. Seeing them all in the same room, sitting next to one another was an interesting sight. It was like, Lord of the Rings, battered sex slave edition.

I gave them all the same speech I gave the beastkin. I wanted them to introduce themselves, and give us a bit of basic information. It was the dwarf’s turn first.

“Fuck you!” she growled.

The dwarf was short and stocky, about four feet tall and built like a somewhat-feminine bus. She had wiry red hair and a warrior’s physique, solid muscles complemented by broad curves. She glared at me with undisguised hatred.

“That doesn’t sound like your name,” I said calmly.

“Fuck off ye prissy bitch! You think yer better than me just because you slapped this collar ‘round my neck?”

“Would you rather be back in the brothel?” I asked.

“Oh, you expect me to be grateful?” the dwarf growled, “You twice blighted hypocritical slaver cunt!”

“Okay, you’re not a constructive part of this conversation, and I don’t want to deal with you right now,” I sighed. I snapped my fingers and pointed to the door, “Go wait outside.”

“Fuck you, you stupid bitch! You’re worse than the monsters,” the dwarf girl growled. “And the rest o’ ye… The fuck are ye doin’ listening to that bint? She’s enslaved you!”

“Yes,” a pale skinned, redheaded, high elf said, glaring coldly at the dwarf. “We are slaves, she is our mistress. She can kill or torture us any time she likes. Maybe you should shut up before she makes an example of you.”

“Bah! Better to die free than live as a slave,” the dwarf girl spat on the floor by my feet.

I sighed.

I really did not want to have to deal with this belligerent girl. She was sort of right, owning a harem of non-consensual slaves in this fucked up world wasn’t purely evil, but it was morally grey… dark grey at best… But clearly, she didn’t realize that I was the lesser evil here. She was clearly strong and proud, in a similar situation to my pet assassin, but she lacked Rylia’s pragmatism.

Would I need to punish her?

Sure, I was a bit of a sexual sadist, but I wasn’t so keen on non-consensual BDSM. Spanking an enthusiastic Paintoy was different than spanking a dwarf that was not into it at all. But would the slaves lose respect for me if I just passively let her mouth off? They might become loyal at some point if I treated them well, but fear was keeping them in line for now. I didn’t want a rebellion on my hands.

“I believe a response is warranted. Shall I handle this?” Lysander offered.

And now Lysander was going to torture the dwarf in front of the other terrified slaves? That wasn’t a very good first impression.

“Let’s try this first… Command: Sleep,” I said, focusing on the dwarf.

She turned off like a light switch. She closed her eyes, and went limp, flopping onto her back and landing in a tangle of limbs. She hit the ground hard, but seemed no worse for wear. She was lightly breathing, fast asleep.

“M-mercy…” one of the high elves whimpered, curling into a little shivering ball while pressing her forehead to the floor.

A dishevelled redheaded halfling burst out laughing.

“A refreshing nap is hardly sufficient as a punishment…” Lysander commented coolly.

“Yeah, but now we can deal with her later and continue our meeting,” I said.

“Torture time! Now or later! Slap and spank and burn and crush!” the giggling halfling shouted, before falling over cackling, as if she’d just told the funniest joke ever. Nobody else laughed. I glanced at her cautiously, the poor girl clearly had a few screws loose.

The other slaves were making a point of ignoring her. We elected to do the same.

“We should move her somewhere…” Maddie commented.

Lysander, Chloe, and I all looked at her expectantly.

“Me?” Maddie grumbled.

“You’re the one with the strength score, [Warrior]. The rest of us are mages and librarians,” I said.

“Thanks for volunteering,” Lysander agreed.

Maddie grumbled something inaudible, and grabbed the dwarf girl under the armpits. With a groan, she heaved up the passed-out dwarf and dragged her out into the hall.

“Fuck, she’s heavy,” Maddie groaned.

A minute later, the dwarf was stowed away somewhere. Maddie returned and sat down again.

“Okay then… I guess you’re next to introduce yourself?” I said, pointing to Milah, the male low elf.

He was a young and handsome guy, youthful like all elves. As a low elf, he had a caramel tanned complexion, and black hair. He wasn’t quite as slender as the elven girls. He seemed to have an average and decently fit physique. I caught a glimpse of his package between the folds of his modesty blanket. Like all elves, he was completely hairless down there. I liked my ladies without body hair, but it looked a little strange on a guy.

“Y-yes Mistress,” Milah stammered nervously. “Uhm… Hi, I’m Milah… eighteen years old, uhm… level four [Commoner]. I grew up working at a tannery… not sure how those skills translate to domestic slavery, but uuh… I guess I’m pretty good at ignoring bad smells? I can learn to do whatever you want me to do.”

“What about sexual servitude? Preferences for male or female partners?” Maddie asked.

“Uhh… Y-yes mistress… I-if you want that, I-I’ll be happy to obey.” he stammered, blushing shyly.

“Do you like girls, or boys, Milah?” I asked frankly.

“Uhm… girls?” he said nervously.

“Okay… thank you for introducing yourself Milah,” I said smiling as gently as I could. He looked relieved that I was done with him. I gestured to the low elf next to him, “Next.”

Most of the other slaves I’d met, dwarves excluded, knelt politely and submissively, trying to act like good boys and girls and make a good first impression. This elf sat on the floor lazily, legs sprawled out, with her back propped against the side of the empty couch across from me. It was a stance that immediately told me this particular elf was all out of fucks to give. This low elf was young looking and pretty, like all elves, but she had messy dark hair and looked thoroughly broken by her experiences in the brothel. When she looked me in the eye, I felt a shiver travel down my spine. There was nothing there but raw, overwhelming, despair.

She smiled bitterly. “Doesn’t matter what I say… you’re still going to torture me.”

“No actually, I wasn’t planning on torturing you,” I replied gently.

The elf shook her head sadly, and gave me another bitter smile. “I know this trick, the ‘kind master game.’ I’ve been a slave for a very long time, and I’ve played this game before, Mistress. You’re trying to get us to hope. You want us to believe you’re a kind and merciful mistress, but it’s all so that we’ll scream louder for you later. The sad part is… it’s… so tempting to believe you, but I’ve fallen for this trick three times already… three separate masters promised they were kind, yet pain and torture always followed…”

The elf gave me a hard, serious glare, “There won’t be a fourth time. You’re a cruel liar, and I’m calling your bluff.”

“We cannot prove our intent. I can offer no incontrovertible evidence that we’re not cruel torturers. I can only suggest you wait and see,” Lysander said.

The elf smiled sadly and shrugged, but said nothing.

“Want to tell us your name at least?” I said.

The elf sighed in resignation, “Elona, 312 years old, level 34 [Master Tailor]. I’m bisexual favoring human men, not into pain, though I suppose it doesn’t matter. Want to know anything else, dear Mistresses?”

I sighed, “No, that’ll do. Thank you Elona.”

I waited for Maddie to comment on how this apparent tri-centennial teenager was as older than electricity in our world. Luckily, she had the tact not to comment this time.

Lysander gestured to the third and final low elf. Wait, was she a low elf? This one had paler skin than the caramel complexion of the other two, yet she was definitely darker than the pure white of the high elves. She was lightly tanned, almost a hybrid between caramel low elf and milky white high elf. A half-breed perhaps? If so, she was the first one I’d seen. She also had vibrant blue hair. I recalled that this one was the girl who’d offered herself for torture toy duty, along with Paintoy.

“You’re Sana, right?” I said.

“Yes Mistress, twenty-two years old, level 3 [Commoner], bisexual…” she murmured quietly.

“Are you a low elf?” Lysander asked.

“Mixed breed… High elf and low elf…” the girl replied. “Elf blood doesn’t usually mix, I was… a bit of a surprise to my parents and their Master, as you might imagine… Half-breeds are extremely rare…”

“I see,” I said. “So uuh… you volunteered for torture duty?”

The girl nodded shyly, “I’m best used as rape and torture meat. I have a very low tolerance for pain, and I’m good at begging and screaming for mercy while bad things happen to me.”

“Are you actually into pain, or is this some sort of self-harm thing?” Maddie asked, somewhat insensitively.

She averted her eyes shamefully, “Rape and torture meat isn’t supposed to enjoy what you do to them… But… I guess I enjoy… not enjoying it. If that makes sense?”

“Not really…” Maddie grumbled.

“So pain doesn’t turn into pleasure for you, but being a victim is sexy?” I asked.

“Hmm… not quite, I… enjoy pain, but not on its own. For me… you’re right, it’s all about being a victim and having unspeakably horrible things done to me against my will. It’s not the pain itself that arouses me, but the helplessness and despair that comes with having my pleas for mercy denied.”

“That’s a pretty hardcore kink, but it makes sense to me,” I said.

“What about humiliation and degradation?” Lysander asked.

“Yeah, that can be fun too I guess, as long as it’s unbearably awful…” the elf replied. Then she smiled lewdly, “You’re going to treat me like dirt, aren’t you?”

I thought about it. Unlike Paintoy, I felt a bit uncomfortable with the idea of abusing Sana. Paintoy was an enthusiastic pain slut that knew what she wanted, and was open about asking for it. Sana seemed to prefer being forced against her will, being dangerously pushed past her limits. It would be hard for me to tell the difference between Sana acting as the sexy victim, and genuinely going too far. We’d need a safeword system perhaps? But if Sana enjoyed being truly helpless, a safeword might ruin the fantasy. I’d have to think on it.

“Cautiously,” I said. “We’ll have to test your limits. I don’t want to break you.”

“Pretty sure I’m already broken…” she smiled bitterly. “Before I got sent to the brothel, I didn’t like being a torture toy. But now, after spending a year and a half there? I learned to love my role.”

Lysander and Maddie nodded their heads in agreement.

“So yeah… I’m pretty fucked up.” Sana said.

“Not sure if it’s healthy to put you on torture toy duty though.” I said cautiously. “I like playing rough with my partners, but only if they enjoy it. We have Paintoy to scratch that itch, there’s no need to abuse you if you’re not into it.”

“Um… No, I… really do enjoy suffering, Mistress,” Sana admitted shyly. “I’ll probably change my mind and beg you to stop when you’re hurting me, but… please don’t.”

“I guess we’ll think about it.” I said, looking at Lysander nervously.

“I’ll play with you later. We’ll see how it goes,” Lysander volunteered with a sinister smile.

Sana whimpered nervously, but smiled.

“So uuh… you next?” I said, gesturing to a high elf.

This one was the girl I’d seen dangling from her wrists in strappado that one time in the dungeon. She had long red hair, and green eyes. She looked around nervously, clearly not comfortable with the attention.

“Um… Nialie… age sixty-eight, level eleven [Healer]. I can umm… heal, of course. I guess I could do other tasks too. Sex is… okay I guess, though you said we don’t have to if we don’t want to? In that case… maybe skip me please? It seems the others would serve you with more enthusiasm…”

“Not a sex toy, got it,” Maddie said with a reassuring smile.

“Ooh a healer!” I said excitedly.

“I’m a level seven [Mage], pursuing a healing class as well.” Chloe said, with a smile. “I haven’t heard anyone talk about elven life magic based healing before. I’ll have to talk to you about your choices of classes and skills later.”

“Of course, Mistress,” Nialie demurred, with a smile.

The next slave to be introduced was a blonde high elf. She bowed and begged for mercy the second I knocked out the dwarf. That was at least fifteen minutes ago, yet she was still in that exact same position. She was bowing with her head to the floor, shivering.

“Uhm… care to introduce yourself there?” I said.

No response.

I crept forward and pointed the back of her head.

She shrieked in terror. “Mercy! Mercy… please mercy…”

“Hi… what’s your name?” I said.

“Please… don’t kill me… don’t hurt me… I’ll be good. I’ll be good…” she whimpered.

She started panting hard, hyperventilating. Was she having a panic attack? Fuck, this wasn’t good.

“It’s okay, it’s okay… calm down. I won’t hurt you.” I said as gently as possible.

“Nooo! Please… please…” she cried.

I gently patted her head, but her forehead remained pressed against the floor. She shivered and whimpered, and it seemed my touch wasn’t making things better.

“I… guess we’ll skip you for now?” I said, looking to the others for consensus. They seemed to agree.

The poor girl only started to calm down again after I left her alone and moved away.

“Anyone know her name?” I asked.

“Her name is Aeothe,” Lothelea replied. “I’m sorry, but I don’t recall her age or class. She’s a younger elf though, younger than fifty. You can tell from their auras.”

“Ah, good to know. You’ll have to show me that trick later,” I said. Lothelea bowed her head in acknowledgement.

The final high elf was… even worse. The previous one was scared, but there was at least a brain in there. This one was… blank. She stared, glassy eyed into the distance. She was pretty, with long pink hair and beautiful blue eyes, yet she was unresponsive, like a corpse.

“I guess you’re not going to introduce yourself either?” I said uncertainly.

The pink haired elf said nothing, she didn’t even seem to hear me. I crept a little closer, and waved a hand in front of her face. She leaned forward slightly and licked my fingers.

“Oh! Hello!” I said, surprised. “I guess you’re alive after all.”

“Umm… yes… she does that,” Nialie said gently.

After a bit of poking and prodding, I discovered that she didn’t react to anything at all unless it was directly in her face. She seemed to want to lick anything presented to her. I tested with different parts of my arm, and the response was the same whether it was fingertips or elbow. For my fingers, she switched to blowjob mode and sucked on them. That was a bit of a distinction, I supposed.

“That’s… interesting.” I said, backing off and returning to my seat.

“This one is Isarelle,” Lothelea explained. “She’s… been in the brothel a while. I recall she has the second tier [Maid] class, but not her exact level. She’s… not much use as a maid anymore, but still quite eager to please, as you can see. Before the brothel, she claimed she always enjoyed giving pleasure with her mouth… It seems that part of her personality remains intact. Perhaps she had a bit of an oral fixation?”

“Think she’d eat me out?” Maddie asked curiously.

“Yeah… I think that’s actually what she’s trying to do to my hand.” I said.

“Indeed,” Lothelea replied. “She was known for her oral skills. But that was before she… became like this. I fear that Isarelle was approaching the end of her torments… Clients weren’t selecting her anymore, and she’d been marked for disposal two weeks ago. That meant any client could kill her, free of charge, if they were so inclined. Perhaps she was lucky that none chose to end her life before we were given to you. I hope you can give her a better life…”

“That’s… fucked up…” Maddie said awkwardly.

“Yeah…” I agreed.

That was it for the elves, we moved on to the halflings. One halfling looked shy and innocent, bundled up in her blanket. She had curly blonde hair in ringlets. The other halfling, with tangled and wild red hair, had her blanket draped over her shoulders, shamelessly open at the front, seemingly not even noticing that we could see everything. She twitched every so often, and constantly giggled quietly and muttered to herself. I decided to let the blonde girl introduce herself first.

“Um… Hi there, my name is Little Mary, I’m eight years old, and a level two [Commoner]. I’m a good girl that tries her best to do what her Mommies and Daddies ask her to do. When I’m a bad girl, sometimes I get spankies… I’m not supposed to like it, but sometimes it makes my peepee place all gooey. I also give Mommies the lickies, and Daddies the suckies. When it’s time for fuckies, Daddy’s peepee either goes inside my good girl place, at the front, or my ouchy bad girl place, at the back.”

I examined her skeptically. She was child sized, about three feet tall, but that was normal for an adult halfling. She had a petite figure, yet her small boobs and hips were fully developed. This was clearly not an eight-year-old body.

Lysander noticed too, “How long have you been eight years old?” she asked.

“Um… I’ve been eight for thirteen years, Mommy.” she said innocently.

So that made her twenty-one? Okay then.

“So uuh… you’re more of a sex slave then? Rather than labour?” Maddie asked.

“Uhm… what is sex?” she asked innocently.

“It’s another word for lickies and fuckies,” I explained, with a sigh.

“Oh! The fuckies hurts sometimes. If the Daddies are too big sometimes it even hurts in the good girl place. The bad girl place always hurts, so I try to be a good girl. Even when it’s in my bad girl place, I try to be a good girl and take it anyway.” she said.

“Good to know,” I replied, massaging my head. This was just weird.

“I guess we can let the last girl introduce herself?” Maddie suggested.

The redhead giggled to herself quietly.

“What’s your name dear?” Maddie asked.

“Halflings are the best for fisting! The blood is good lube, and we look just like hand puppets with an angry fist in our bums. And our screams… we just sound the silliest!” the redheaded halfling giggled.

“Okay… but uuh… what’s your name?” I asked.

“Dottie, the fantastic fathomless fuckhole, level nine bazillion rape meat.” the halfling replied, before cackling at her own silliness.

“Maybe… we should take a break…” I sighed.

The halfling giggled, “Haha! Break! Get it? Like getting torn open with a Pear of Anguish? Break!”

“Yes I get it, very funny,” I sighed. I was starting to get a headache.

“Well, I think that’s all for now. Thanks for meeting with us. I think we have a better idea of who you all are now. You’re free to go.” Lysander announced.

The fantastical demihuman boys and girls got up and left the room. Those elves who were still halfway sane helped carry those who couldn’t move on their own.

“Bye bye Mommies,” Little Mary said on her way out.

“Bye bye,” Chloe said, waving to her with a friendly smile. She turned to me, “Mary is surprisingly cute.”

“…Yeah,” I groaned.

It wasn’t even midday yet, but I was already feeling exhausted by all the horrific tragedy I’d witnessed. Some of the slaves weren’t so bad, but some were truly awful. I wondered whether they’d ever recover at all.

I sighed, and hung my head, “This… everything is so fucked up.”

Chloe gently rubbed my back.

“Perhaps you should have a rest Tyler,” Lysander said gently, “We can handle things from here.”

“Yeah… you and Chloe should take it easy,” Maddie agreed. “We’ll find a good house to rent, and buy what supplies we need.”

When Nyar’Shiggurath touched me, he healed my wounds and restored my fatigue. What I was feeling now wasn’t a physical tiredness, but a mental one.

I sighed again. “Yeah, you might be right. Want to come lay down with me Chloe?”

“Yes, Mistress, I’d like that,” Chloe said with a smile.

“Feel free to snag a kitten or two on the way upstairs. I think that Shade one likes you guys.” Maddie suggested.

I glanced at Chloe, and noticed a subtle twinge of disapproval on her face. “Eh, maybe next time. I’ll just cuddle with Chloe for now.”

I left Lysander and Maddie behind, and went up the stairs to the bedroom we’d been given. Once there, I stripped off my clothes, and slipped under the covers of one of the beds. Chloe did the same, doffing her dress, and cuddling up next to me.

“How are you feeling?” Chloe asked.

“Eh… not so good, I guess,” I admitted.

“It’s pretty sad isn’t it?” she said.

“Yeah.”

She reached out, and rolled me onto my side, towards her. She put a hand on my head, and pressed my face into her breasts, gently stroking the back of my head. It was strangely comforting.

I felt my eyes water, and sniffed. “Oh fuck…” I grumbled. I did not want to cry.

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” Chloe said, apparently reading my mind.

I shook my head, no. I was a former dude, at least. I wasn’t the sort of person to cry. Was this the hormones? Man… fuck hormones. I tried to push away the feelings, but it was hard. Every time I had to picture all the horrifying, senselessly cruel shit those slave girls and boys have been through…

“It’s okay,” Chloe repeated, gently stroking my head.

I let myself go. I cried. I wept long and loud as Chloe hugged me. It was a release of pent up emotion I didn’t even know I was feeling. Chloe continued to hug me and stroke my head until we both fell asleep.