Wealth was a terrible thing, many people thought it was the ultimate solution. Some might even have been foolish enough to believe that the right amount of health was enough to buy happiness but they were wrong. All wealth bought as an unbearable, unquenchable, boredom. Maybe if someone had only dipped their toes into wealth, if they were still on the eternal path of struggle, then they might have something to be concerned with and found momentary happiness in their wealth. But their wealth would eventually<em>drain</em>away, gradually but surely, it would drain away until there was nothing left of their wealth. But that wasn't the same for the truly wealthy, the extravagantly wealthy, there was no fiddling away his wealth. It was the opposite. No matter how much he squandered away he would never run out of wealth, in fact, it was almost impossible for him to spend it all even if he acted frivolous or irresponsible with his wealth.<br/><br/>Which was why this endeavor, this<em>expense</em>was one that Marcellus was sure would bring him some happiness. Well, maybe not happiness. But at the very least it would bring him entertainment and some satisfaction. After all, he'd be the only man in the world who<em>owned</em>an Elf. A creature of myth and fantasy, a supposed wood-land creature that only existed in fairy-tales. How many men would be able to say they laid their hands on a naked, and vulnerable, elf? How many would be able to say they laid their eyes on the naked elf. Marcellus had, in fact, made a point of spending his exorbitant wealth to ensure that she was true. While it might have been men that caught her and laid their eyes on her from the moment, she went onto auction Marcellus had paid an obscene amount of money to ensure that the Elf only interacted with women as much as possible. When it came to her bath, her shower before she was sold off to him, the people that took care of her were all women. Perhaps if the Elf was a human, they would have more hesitation about prepping another being for a slave auction, but the fact she wasn't human only made their job easier. With the purchase complete, and his prize prepped, all Marcellus had to do now was enjoy the prize that he'd paid for.<br/><br/>Once she was dressed and prepped, the flimsy little cloth the only thing decorating her body other than the thick leather collar, a blindfold was placed over her eyes and the men that sold her prepped her for transport. She'd experience a brief, but bumpy, ride on her way to her new owners' estate. When she was pulled out of the van her barely covered body would be hit by a cold breeze, momentarily, before she was dragged into the estate. More hands worked over her, female hands, restraining and binding her. Her hands, the weapons that they were, were bound tight behind her back and that leather collar of hers was attached, by a chain, to the headboard of the bed. Not that she would see it, not yet at least, as the blindfold was left in place. Just like she wouldn't see the extravagance of her new cage.. or the fact that there were cameras on the walls. Not that the little elf might know what cameras were.<br/><br/>A man of Marcellus unique tastes recognized the opportunity he had. To tame the save mythical creature that didn't even speak their language. Very few would have the opportunity to tame such a beast or even see her.. which was why it was so important for Marcellus to record her fall. What fun would it be to just experience it for himself, just once, when he could experience it over and over and even broadcast her fall. Should the opportunity present itself, should his elvish bitch break, he could even delight in forcing her to watch her own training. There were simply so many possibilities that Marcellus could hardly wait to begin.. he already had so many things planned for tomorrow.<br/><br/>But for tonight, well. He needed an ample recording of what she was like<em>before</em>he started. How she behaved, how she spoke, and how she struggled against him. It would provide the perfect contrast to what Marcellus planned for her in the long run. How wonderful would it be to compare the elf's current haughty and defiant features to ones that were mutated and contorted with pleasure?<br/><br/><div align="center">--- Start of Recording – Night 1 ---</div><br/>The recording began while Firnathia, the busty elf, was still bound and helpless in her new 'cage.' She'd been left there for over an hour while the man who purchased her was busy with other things.. but the recording had started just at the tail-end of the hour. There was a creak from the door, just behind the camera, as it swung open the edge of the door came into frame as a man stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. While not exactly muscular, or fat, the man had a rather average build. What one might expect of a rich man that could afford the best care but couldn't care enough to keep himself in a peak state. After entering Marcellus eyes were glued to the elf, drinking in her curvy body as he licked at his dry lips. His big hand suddenly reached back so that his firm hand could smack on the side of her ample bosom. That<em>smack</em>was the first touch she got from Marcellus. Her first introduction to the man that purchased her.<strong>"Hah.. look at you. Such a rare little creature. I wonder. Has anyone laid hands on you yet? Your own kind? The men that caught you?"</strong><br/><br/>Marcellus open palm once more smacked across the side of her ample cleavage. Right after that second smack his fingers would push into her breasts, knowing how sensitive they were, and begin to knead her ample cleavage into his palm.<strong>"Such a pristine body. Mn. Your breasts are absolutely perfect."</strong>He spoke the words in a deep, almost low, growl as his other hand grabbed at her throat and suddenly pushed her body forward. Her curvaceous back dug into the sheets, into the mattress underneath her, as his big hands held that body of hers in place. His thick fingers tightened around her throat, squeezing even, so that she was gasping for air as that other hand of his shifted nice and slow over her breasts. His fingers purposefully caressing the spot he smacked.<br/><br/>Marcellus already knew the theme for tonight's recording.<em>The night he raped the elf.</em>Which meant he didn't give a damn about how she might resist or scream, no one would hear. Just like how the man hadn't even bothered to take off her blindfold yet. He thought it would be more<em>effective</em>, and more delicious, if she first laid eyes on him after he'd forced her body to take as much unwilling pleasure as possible.