Page 26 of Plaything of the Dark Elf

Etheron

She is everywhere.

I hate her. I hate what it is that she has done to me, what sorcery and tricks this human wench has cast over me, while claiming she does not know. Lying bitch.

Despite how hot she makes my blood boil, and my skin itch. All I can think about is Dalia.

No, do not name her. The cold and emotionless voice in my head speaks. The same voice that edged me to hold a blade to her throat. The one that eased my ability to kill.

My thoughts ring true. If I do not name her, she will become another human in my presence. A worthless creature taking up precious resources from other, more proficient, slaves.

It will be easier to leave her behind, if all she is is no one. Less than no one.

I look up and reach for the handle of the door in front of me. This gleaming, gaudy, building does not even attempt to hide what it is. The amount of ipia spent daily within the walls of ill-repute is as sickening as it is admirable.

Though I am not one to judge. I’ve also come for their services. The quickest way to rid my mind and body of the memory of one lowly human, is to replace it with another.

Around me, the night's activities are already well underway. I hear the faint sounds coming from behind closed doors as I follow the manager down the hall. I hope to have an evening half as thrilling as those around me.

The hall ends in a large arched doorway. The wood appears to have some sort of intricate design on it, but that is not important. The stage at the front of the room is where my eyes are, as the manager pulls a chair for me at an empty table. While the lights on the tables are magically dimmed for an air of privacy, the stage is brightly lit for everyone to see.

A young dark elf is led up onto the stage, to a round of light applause from the audience. He must have won a draw. A chair is brought out for him to sit, and quickly followed by two human women.

They are already naked, with the exception of the leather bands around their throats. They are attractive enough, I suppose. So does the male on stage, who is leaning further back in his chair, legs spread apart. The women kneel on either side.

Their breasts perched on his thighs, as they lean across his erect cock and kiss for a moment before doing what they are supposed to. Taking turns, they lick and suck his cock. As one set of lips wraps around the head of the thick tip, the other pair mouths near the base and teases his balls.

The women appear to be enjoying themselves almost as much as the dark elf receiving their undivided attention. That is the difference between a trained pet and a human that is still unbroken.

I watch the blond human. Her hair is cut short, though straight, and I think of Dalia. What would she look like on her knees before me? Cheeks rosy with exertion, breath labored, eyes wet from the length of my cock pushing down her tight throat.

I can picture it. Her lush lips, plump and swollen, stretched around the thickness of my cock. My hand, tangled in her curls, holding her head still and using her mouth. Her petite hands resting against my thighs of balance, resisting the urge to pleasure herself until I give her the permission she craves.

Would she swallow my seed like a good pet? Perhaps Dalia would look sweeter with my come covering her face, neck, and breasts. I shake my head and run a hand through my hair. I am here to stop thinking about Dalia, not to fantasize about her.

My body has already started to react to the lecherous thoughts. My cock, half hard, seeking a continuation of the fantasy and release. The sounds and show on the stage only edge me closer. No doubt there are others in the room who are pleasuring themselves to the scene.

Public masturbation is not my style. I prefer a more secluded setting and partners, or pets, of my own. Though here my choices are both equally limited and vast.

The establishment caters to all desires and as such has humans trained in all manner of pleasure, for whatever a dark elf’s preference may be. For a hefty sum I could simply buy a new pet to do with as I want.

Or, for a lighter amount, I could simply rent a human or two for the evening. Though that might prove to be more of a hassle than it is worth. I would have to ensure that they were returned in the same condition that I purchased them in. A bruise or two is common and heals, but it’s generally frowned upon to kill the pets. I wouldn’t be welcomed back, and I would still have to provide compensation for the loss of profits.

Not to say I will kill them on purpose. There is simply something about a writhing body beneath me, begging, pleading, screaming for more. The way their eyes go from pleasure and lust to terrified in an instant fuels my own body’s needs.

There is something wrong with my mind, I know this. It’s been years since I have tried to find a cure. The fact that I cannot come without watching the life fade from a woman’s eyes, my hand wrapped around her slender human throat as I shout my release in time with her last breath.

Human or dark elf – it matters not. They all meet the same fate.

Except for Dalia. Which is why I know that she did something to me. There was no urge to kill her, no uncontrollable lust for the woman’s blood when we fucked.

No. I will not continue to think about her tonight. I wave the manager over with one hand, tapping my fingers against the table top.

“Yes, sir?” He asks, a light bow as he stands before me.

“I require a private lounge and three of your best, human, women.” I say, as I place a small pouch of ipia in his hands.

His eyes grow wide, not even bothering to count the money, “Of course. Follow me, sir.”

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