Doshvin watched as master took the fool elf by the neck, hoisting her up inch by inch against the wall. She squirmed, intensely uncomfortable, torn apart by conflict. She hated this elf, hated how she gave her those bad feelings, but at the same time she only existed for her master's pleasure. If her master was pleased... Even if it was by another slave... Doshvin could uneasily accept what was happening. Or at least that was what she was trying to tell herself, but she felt like she was being ripped apart.<br/><br/>"Mmm," she whined, looking up to her master, who was preparing to penetrate the elf, and then to his guards, who looked on, smirking. She wanted to be the one pushed up against the wall, barely able to breathe, sharp fangs on her neck. She looked again at the guards, and batted her eyes slowly, trying to gather their attention. She sat back on her haunches and rubbed her breasts enticingly before sitting on her butt and spreading her legs. Her hand went between her thighs, but she didn't touch herself; She wasn't allowed to pleasure herself without her master's permission, and he was... Preoccupied.<br/><br/>Her stomach gurgled again, but there was nothing left to spew up, so she stomached the wretched feeling and put on a blank, indoctrinated smirk.