<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/rorSJ04.jpg)<br/><div align="center"><sup><em>Mistress Zer'stela</em></sup></div></div>Quicker than Taenya could imagine the drow mistress's hand went back to her hip and then flashed forwards.  Even as she was still looking down at the corpses of the two kobolds the drow's whip lashed out striking across Taenya's left breast, breaking right above the nipple.  She couldn't help but scream out in pain. That hurt! If this was a dream how could such a thing hurt so bad.<strong>"I didn't give you a choice iblith, do as I say or I'll see that your journey to the corpse pit continues despite your sudden return to the world of the living!"</strong>Her eyes flashed angrily in the gloom, red pits of rage at being defied, being questioned.  It was obvious the drow woman wasn't used to being spoken back to in the way that Taenya had just done.<strong>"Now do as I say before anyone else comes down this tunnel and sees your face.  Because if I have to murder any other slaves, before heading back to my chambers, yours will be the next blood spilled."</strong><br/><br/>There seemed to be some reason this drow wanted to keep anyone else from seeing Taenya's face and it seemed rather important.  But there was something else on top of those words too.  When this drow woman had cursed at her, that word, iblith, somehow Taenya knew what it meant.  Literally it meant offal, shit, filth.  But the way Drow often used it was also to refer to any non-drow.  These dark skinned elves thought of every other race as below them, subservient, lesser.  She knew that, remembered that.  But so too did she remember something else.  A memory, just a flash of one, came unbidden to her mind for a moment.  A beautiful drow woman emblazoned with silvery tattoos and pierced with mithril nipple rings, laying naked on silken sheets.  Reclining but holding a leash, a leash that led to a collar around Taenya's neck, a gentle tugging of which caused her to crawl towards the beautiful drow.<em> "Pleasure me iblith,"</em>the gorgeous tattooed drow whispered in a soft, almost loving tone.  That curse said in a way that almost showed affection.  Then Taenya's voice likewise soft but so subverient answering back,<em> "yes Mistress Zer'stela." </em>Her vision going downwards as her face, her lips, moved to the moist cleft between the drow's thighs.<br/><br/>Then the memory was gone in a flash and there was only the angry whip weilding woman in front of her.  The memory had passed in a heartbeat, but it was absolutely hers, it was absolutely something that had happened to this elven woman.  Whatever was going on, whatever circumstances had brought him here, they wouldn't be figured out if this angry drow in front of Taenya died at her blade.