<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/VjfvTWw.png)</div><strong>Taris Vannel</strong>(https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=293833.msg14533999#msg14533999)<br/><strong>HP:</strong>25 / 40<strong>AC:</strong>14<strong>CMD:</strong>20<strong>Arcane Pool:</strong>5 / 6<strong>Arrows:</strong>54<strong>Posts:</strong>29<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Guardhouse,<em>? ? ?</em><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Xara, Guardsman<hr/>Taris felt like she was practically glowing with heat at Xara's surprised voice upon examining her closely.  The rough stone was almost like ice against her skin as the Captain pressed her up against it.  There was no missing the arousal in her voice, not this close up, as she accused the elf-blood of enjoying their strole ... of being seen, and touched, by strangers with only Xara there to keep them in line.  She wanted to deny it, to at least shake her head, but mostly what she did was press her knees together around the Captain's inquisitive hand and roll her head back along her shoulders, a breathy moan coming out indistinctly around her gag as the Captain shifted her grip to grind up against her clit while teasing just a bit further, the tips of her fingers stroking shallowly inside her.  Suddenly, the full armored weight of her keeper pressed against her, grinding her back into the wall between catching her between cool stone and cold steel  as Xara crushed her lips against her captive's.<br/><br/>Taris shuddered under her words, a bit dizzy after that forceful kiss, their lips having found each otehr around the gag.<em>She</em>loved this?  Xara's switch was absolutely flipped, she was brimming over with excitement at the prospects of what she could<em>do</em>with a girl who didn't pull away from this kind of play.  A throaty murmur rumbled in her throat as she squirmed undernieth her, the peaks of her nipples dragging over crest embossed over her breastplate.  Then, all at once, it seemed that Xara resolved on something as an insistant tug on her leash pulled her away from the wall, a firm grip on her arm keeping her close as she ushered her swiftly through the halls.  It was no easy thing to keep up with her pace while blindfolded, certainly, Taris listened and tried to match her steps to the Captain's so hat she wouldn't slow her down by stumbling about.<br/><br/>At first, Taris thought she was being guided back to the Captain's chambers, but she quickly realized that this was a different route when the voices began to fade into the distance rather than build again as they retraced their steps.  The sound of a heavy key turning iron tumblers in a door made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up ... of course, as a Captain, Xara had access to all manner of resources that might be in the guardhouse.  Another heavy door creaked open, this one colder still than the hallways, causing a light shiver to play over Taris's exposed skin ... this wasn't like the halls where the cold night air was filtering in through the narrow arrow slits carved into the walls, unless Taris missed her guess this chamber had never seen sunlight.  Without torches or lanterns to heat it, the place was cool and dark like a cellar ... though the efforts of the stewards kept the room from smelling dank or neglected much the way they kept soot and ash from the torches clear of the walls.<br/><br/>Wiggling her toes and shifting her footing in a vain effort to stave off the icy cold of the floor, she pondered the possibilities.  Some kind of processing room, she'd wager.  A place where captives could be questioned, statements recorded, and clothes replaced with prison uniforms under watch of the guard to ensure no one snuck tools or weapons into the cells.  She took a delicate sniff ... no hint of blood in the air.  Either the local guard had properly cowed the local populace ... or the stewards were commendably thorough in their work.<br/><br/>Or, she might be wrong, she considered.  It could just easily be a supply closet.<br/><br/>She was left in the hallway<em>just</em>long enough to begin to worry, turning her head back the way she'd come before as though she'd have had a chance of seeing anyone creeping up behind her.  She didn't really think that Xara would<em>leave</em>her ... but she<em>had</em>been under instructions not to leave her side, and if anyone came along ... if one of those kidnappers had the balls to try and find her<em>here</em>.  What had Jeska said?  She'd have Lust locate her?  It wasn't impossible that she was being scryed right<em>now</em>.<br/><br/>. . . That would somewhat undercut her earlier threats . . .<br/><br/>Fortunately, Xara returned to save her from the downward spiral of paranoia that was creeping up on her in the dark where she was left with only her thoughts, a crisp order bringing her back to attention, feet together, shoulders straight, chin up, as if she were awaiting inspection.  She tried not to flinch as something cool was pressed quite intimately to her skin, her nostrils flaring a bit as she suppressed a shiver.  The guard in the hall had mentioned she'd need to be marked as well as "broken in", combined with Xara's ruminating over ink it seemed a fair guess that a slaves mark had been stamped against her skin.  Perhaps it wasn't as<em>permanent</em>as the real thing, but once the ink dried one would be hard pressed to tell the difference.  Another step along being the Captain's possession ... looking ever more like just another of Hawken's inentured underclass.<br/><br/>The long tresses of the wig flowing down along her shoulders, at least, would help to hide her identity.  Taris chewed fruitlessly against her gag as Xara's hands lightly brushed against her hips, gripping the only shred of clothing Taris had to her name and working them slightly side to side.  Of course, there was no way to get them off, not with the way the rope was digging into her ... or so Taris had thought.  A firm tug shifted her hips, then again, and once<em>more</em>before the fabric tore in her hands, eliciting a muffled little squeak from Taris.  Rope was now the only thing around her body, and the silken strands had no interest in preserving her modesty whatsoever.  Taris fidgeted slightly at Xara's silence, feeling a low warmth spreading as if she could<em>feel</em>where the captain was looking.  When Xara told her she was beautiful, she shifted a bit until she felt the hands straightening and securing the wig to her hair.<br/><br/>And then, more orders.  Not "elf-slut", not "bastard" this time, but "slave".  In bare minutes, it seemed, she'd slipped even lower down than her pathetic birth.  Still, with the husky, raw tone in her voice it was hard to begrudge it in the moment.  She was eager now, practically humming in anticipation of what was coming next.  But, what was coming next?  Clearly she'd need a disguise that would stand up to close scrutiny ... but ...<br/><br/><em>Oh shit...</em><br/><br/>It hadn't taken long when she'd started hearing the voices again, tilting her head slightly this way and that to try and get a better sense of them.  This wasn't like before though, not pairs engaged at the ends of corridors, their voices ringing off the walls.  This was an indistinct clamor, muffled by heavy doors.  There was none of the tinny ringing from voices echoing off the enclosed halls, but instead a rougher, louder kind of speech, the sort she associated with high vaulted ceilings.  A hall, most likely, filled with off-duty guardsmen likely resting after extensive patrols along the roads and through the wilderness that fell within the border town's jurisdiction.  Taris swallowed, feeling the collar around her throat.  This was a little<em>much</em>for a first night, wasn't it?  Before she could protest though, she felt a short tug on the leash once again, this one pulling her back, bringing her to a stop.<br/><br/><em>Oh shit, oh shit, <strong>oh shit</strong></em>, she chanted in her mind like a mantra as she heard the heavy doors swing open , a wall of sound seeming to physically crash into her now that the door was open.  She flinched, a slight whimper escaping her as the noise died down.  She wasn't certain if it was just good training, the men recognizing an officer's arrival, or the sheer audacity of a naked woman being led into their midst that stilled their tongues.  Still, she could practically<em>feel</em>every eye swinging critically her way, causing a shivering breath to catch in her throat.  It was all that she could do not to shrink back from the intensity of their probing gazes.<br/><br/>It did nothing to keep Xara from showing her off like a piece of meat though, cupping her lower belly and showing off the mark that she'd pressed into her so recently.  Ah, and now<em>whore</em>had entered the list as well, just to set the expectations for the crowd.  She tugged back against the leash as Xara pulled her into the chamber, but if she was honest, it was more for show than resistance.  She didn't dig her heels in, all it did was visually demonstrate Xara's strength over her ... before the leash was tugged down, bending her over one of the tables, her shoulders still back  even as her breasts pressed against the surface.  Still, she quivered slightly, exposed to the chamber for any who cared to see ... the fact that the room was warmed by a hearth and more comfortable than the halls was scant comfort as a bead of elven honey visibly left a trail along her inner thigh.  Mortified, she pressed her forehead to the wood beneath her, the gesture dragging her aching nipples against the rough texture of the table, listening as the Captain laid out the rules of engagement for her men.<br/><br/>One rough stroke against her hot, aching sex reminded her that Xara would be right there, as she leaned in whisper a final, private message, a slight shiver running down her spine as the whispered words tickled in her ear.  She'd be watching ... but,<em>of course</em>she'd be watching every desperate moment of this.  Why bring her here, if not for a show?  Xara's stepping aside, however, was apparently all the signal to begin that had been needed, rough hands pushing her flat against the table and pressing her breasts flat as they lifted her backside.  A sharp slap of the palm  rocked her forward as the first guardsman introduced himself with a low growl.  She's been too shocked to respond at first, honestly, but the second one got a muffled little shriek out of her, her cheeks burning her frustration even as a third strike to the same cheek bucked her head back, the skin tingling in the aftermath of his sharp slaps.  Shame burned in her for probably the first time that night, and it was likely that the man might owe his life to her blindfold as she craned her head back as if to catch a glimpse of him.<br/><br/>But there was no time for rest, new hands (<em>cold</em>hands, she noted)  dug into the meat of her rump next, thumbs spreading her pussy open the way one might check the condition of a horse they were considering buying.  Where the first man had worn resentment on his sleeve, this one seemed more dispassionately interested, looking her over the way someone might inspect a particularly interesting bug.  She wasn't certain it was any better, but it was apparent that this wasn't going to be a simple gauntlet of enduring one person's interests at a time.  A request went out, and Taris was drawn forward, her tits roughly dragged against the grain of the wood until her toes barely reached the floor on the other side, her breasts hanging free in the air for another man to fondle and squeeze at his discretion.  Quickly he settled in to tugging at the pink peaks of her nipples, one at a time, roughly enough to  cause her bottom lip to tremble as she tried to suppress a whimper.<br/><br/>Which was around  the time that Taris herself learned something new about her body.  All night long, she'd been fighting against the cold: cool air, cool stone, cool metal.  Xara's lips had seemed heavensent in that moment ... but then a tiny spatter of heat dribbled along the small of her back, and she gave a high pitched squeal far louder than the spanking had pulled out of her, both legs kicking up as her back arched under the heat.  It was just a single moment though, rapidly cooling as it ran along the curve of her body, cooling and hardening again in a way that left her breathing ragged.  Then the next drop fell along her spine and she tightened up all over again, writhing as it rolled off to the other side of her.  This prompted some curious prodding from the man between her legs, which was both kinder and far more cruel than the others, for it was gentle but teased her body with what she knew she'd be denied.<br/><br/>It was hard to keep track of the time as she wrenched from one moment to the next.  She couldn't keep track of how many hands passed over her, though some certainly returned again and again.  She could differentiate the sharp slaps of the first man from some of the others who cupped their hands for a louder sound, or hesitated to strike with full force.  If she didn't know better, she'd think that he resented the woman with her slowly burning candle for having gotten a louder cry from her right out the gate, and was trying to top himself with each visit.  Each strike hit accurately, the impact rolling her body forward, striking her hips and sending the shock up her spine where it exploded in her mind like fireworks made of static.  As far as she could tell, the woman was simply sitting on the table, watching the wax gather up in a candle casually before dribbling it over whatever surface she could find.  Sometimes one of the men fondling her breasts would pinch both her nipples just before the wax came down, so that she couldn't twist without tugging sharply at her own peaks ... the scarce warning was too inconsistent to be any kind of boon.  Still, slowly, the character of her squeals changed.  Outrage and pain melted away under that relentless assault.  Her breath started comming in rough little gasps, her head hanging off the side of the table  as her strength abandoned her and her voice started coming out in soft little gasps and moans<br/><br/>Which was about when she could make out the whispers above the musings of her tormentors.  Just another elf-whore...ah...<em>Throne</em>, she couldn't deny it.  Her body stung from every strike, but it<em>ached</em>with need.  Her head was a daze, and indistinct jumble of thoughts through which she processed everything happening to her.  Her ears pricked slightly, hearing two guards who'd strayed a bit too close to watch saying that they wanted her to use her mouth.  She knew, in that moment, that if they'd presented her with the option she'd have done it without a second thought.  She turned her head towards them languidly, though, of course they couldn't know she was looking for them through her blindfold, not as another stinging blow fell on her pink cheeks.<br/><br/>Which was when the Captain decided to step back into the scene.  Taris knew it was her immediately ... none of the other guardsmen had touched her ears, but now those gentle feminine fingers had found her somewhere out in the dark.  They stroked lightly, teasingly tracing each raised surface and adding a constant low intensity tingle to the spaces between each disjointed exploration of body.  She forced herself to pick up her head,  looking up towards the Captain as she dripped her sweet venoms in her ear.  She whimpered softly at the gentle cooing in her ear.  They were<em>all</em>watching her be debased right now ... she'd listened, and though she'd heard chairs drag over the floor, not once had she heard the door open again to allow anyone to leave.  Her thoughts dazed, she ran with that image, a formation around her watching her grow flushed and moaning shamelessly with need.  Was it any wonder they called her a slut and a whore?  Who could see anything else in this situation?<br/><br/>Which was when a thought hit her.  She didn't have anything left in her life but<em>this</em>.  She was struggling so hard to win her life back, but what kind of life did she really have to return to?  Was it really such a surprise she was throwing herself into increasingly dangerous situations?  Her leads were tenuous at best, was she trying to get herself killed before she could be claimed?  Would<em>anyone</em>miss her if she did?<br/><br/>Xara might.<br/><br/>Hot pinpricks gathered up along her eyes behind the blindfold, her shoulders shaking as she bit back a sob.  No.<em>No</em>, Throne strike her, she was<em>not</em>going to cry.  She wasn't going to break down, not in front of all of these people.  Still, her chest rose and fell rapidly and let her head fall forward, clenching her eyes tight.  Dammit.<br/><br/><em>Dammit</em>...<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/WLVeGed.png)</div><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Memorized Spells</div><div class="spoiler_body">Cantrips:  Detect Magic, Light, Prestidigitation, Mage Hand<br/>1st Level:  <del>Magic Missile</del>, <del>Ray of Enfeeblement</del>, <del>Expeditious Retreat</del>, Obscuring Mist, Weaponwand<br/>2nd Level:  Force Sword, <del>Scorching Ray</del>, <del>Mirror Image</del></div></div>