“Oh, Bronwen,” moans Elyana, tears spilling down her cheeks as she clings to the bars of her cage.
“Do not cry, little elf,” says Thanwyn, raising her voice. “The two of you will have some time together in the cage. Perhaps you will even be sold to the same master. A matched set.”
Bronwen stares at the deep elf defiantly, but with orcs approaching from several directions there is no more hope of escape. She has been captured again by the slavers.
VIII
The Long Wait for Midnight
Stripped of her weapon, protection charm, and imprisoned in one of the cages, Bronwen takes solace in Elyana’s embrace. They crouch together, arm-in-arm and moaning softly with an intense mixture of despair at their predicament and relief at being together.
“I thought you were dead,” cries Elyana, stroking the back of Bronwen’s head. “In the fighting with the orcs, I saw you go down and then you were not with the others who were taken. So though we are not free, my sweet friend, this is like a miracle of resurrection.”
“I was dead,” says Bronwen, caressing the tears from Elyana’s alabaster face. “A goblin came along and he saved me.”
“Saved you? A goblin?” Elyana shakes her head. “I do not understand.”
“His name is Gerrik and he found me as I was bleeding out from my battle with an orc,” explains Bronwen, trying to keep the worry from her voice. “He healed me and helped me to my feet. I wanted to slay him at first, but… I owe him my blood.”
“A Blood Debt?” Elyana’s teary eyes widen. “A goblin is your Blood Keeper?”
“It is so. But I feel no shame, my sweet sister of the feather. He is good-hearted and wise, not like other goblins I have encountered. He helped me to come and rescue you. He may have,” Bronwen fights back tears of her own, “he may have given his life in the effort.”
She holds out hope that Gerrik yet lived. Her Blood Debt to him still appeared on her sheet when she called it up and she still feels the affection for him she would surely only experience as part of that debt. Or is that feeling something more? Would she feel it in her heart even if he was gone and the debt disappeared? A yearning for him that surpasses even the desire she feels in the arms of her friend.
“Bronwen,” murmurs Elyana, calling her friends attention back. “We may have only a short time before the auction. Do you hear them? They gather already.”
It is true. Feet thunder on the floor above their heads as the church begins to fill with the bidders. They have perhaps an hour before the moon is at its highest point and shines down onto the stage. Less than that, she guesses, before the orcs begin to lead their captives up the stairs.
She looks into Elyana’s bright blue eyes and for a moment she is back in her village. Beneath the fur-lined blanket, young and innocent, kissing and touching in halting exploration with a younger version of the woman now in her arms.
“We could have been together,” says Bronwen sadly. “If our lives had not gone this way.”
“We are together now,” whispers Elyana, caressing Bronwen’s face and lingering her thumb against Bronwen’s full lips.
Bronwen kisses Elyana’s thumb and turns her face against her palm to kiss the inside of her hand. Though she is weary and afraid, she feels the spark of lust within her, and recognizes this might be the last chance she will ever know to experience pleasure on her terms.
“I am glad I am with you,” says Bronwen. “That we face this together.”
“Always,” agrees Elyana and the shapely redhead pulls Bronwen closer and presses a kiss to Bronwen’s lips.
The heat of their kiss intensifies, becoming far more than platonic. Their lips part to one another and their tongues meet in a torrid, almost desperate swirl of desire. Though caged and facing a fate worse than death, they have each other, and in this Bronwen and Elyana seek mutual solace.
Elyana helps Bronwen strip off her sling so that her pink-capped tits bounce free. Elyana’s soft breasts are bare already, as is the way of their tribe, her nipples wider and slightly darker than Bronwen’s. The redheaded elf moans and presses her ample mounds to Bronwen’s, nipples rubbing together and sending pleasure coursing through Bronwen’s body and to her loins. She cries out against Elyana’s kiss and hears a sound of disgust from the human women in their cage.
Bronwen breaks her kiss with Elyana and glances over at the four women, three staring in anger and one in wide-eyed shock. Humans, being ashamed of their bodies and worshipping proscriptive gods, do not permit women to share pleasure with one another.
“Ignore them,” says Elyana, turning Bronwen’s face backs to hers. “Pretend that they are not here. That this is not real.”
Elyana’s words strike a chord within Bronwen. She recalls the deep elf, Thanwyn, and her disdainful words. “You will go to meet your precious goddess. Except… she isn’t real.”
Bronwen wonders, does Thanwyn believe as Gerrik that Nerth and all they see around them are merely the lies told by human-built machines? Does Elyana know the same?
“Elyana, what do you mean that this is not real?” Bronwen asks as she searches her friend’s face. She feels an odd mixture of hope, that Elyana shares Gerrik’s belief, and fear, that if Gerrik and Thanwyn are right, Adrahil truly does not watch over her.
“What?” Elyana seems taken aback by Bronwen’s serious expression. “I only jest, my sweet sister. Do not trouble yourself. Let us forget the world for as long as we can.”
Elyana presses another kiss to Bronwen’s lips and helps the blonde warrior elf forget her fears. Their embrace deepens once more, their bare flesh soft and firm in just the right places as their bodies intertwine. Elyana’s kiss grows more adventurous, moving lower to taste Bronwen’s breasts and tender nipples. Bronwen cries out at the heat of Elyana’s sucking mouth and presses her thigh against Elyana’s mound. The redheaded mage’s sex is hot even through the fabric and Elyana rocks her hips lustily, rubbing the warm softness of her cunt against Bronwen’s leg in reply.
Bronwen feels as if she is home as she kisses and caresses her friend. She succeeds at closing her mind off to the humans and the miserable cages and even the horror of the auction looming over them. She is fully present and engaged with Elyana, her kiss as hungry as her red-headed friend’s kiss, their mouths meeting again hotly and their hands becoming more intimate.
“I have always looked up to you,” moans Elyana as Bronwen presses her fingers into the heat of Elyana’s loincloth. “I knew, somehow, you would come to save me.”
“The moment I heard you had been taken,” whispers Bronwen, kissing Elyana’s shoulder and slipping her fingers over the downy-haired slickness of Elyana’s pussy, “I knew I would not rest until I found you.”
“You’ve found me,” moans Elyana. “Ohhhh, yes, right there. You have found me.”
Bronwen sucks at Elyana’s plump nipple, drawing the cap of her areola into her mouth as she plunges two fingers into the hot channel of Elyana’s elven cunt. The redheaded elf sighs with pleasure, grabbing at her untouched breast and twisting her own nipple. Her pleasure grows louder and she jerks her hips, fucking the heat of her cunt against Bronwen’s plunging fingers. Bronwen grows breathless, taking her friend forcefully, beating her touch against Elyana’s clit and driving her towards an orgasm.
“Ohhhh, sweet Bronwen,” cries Elyana. “Your fingers… your lips… ahhhhhh suck my breasts. Yesss! Ohhhhhhh!”
Bronwen is unrelenting, driving pleasure into her friend as Elyana’s abdominal muscles stand out and she sits upright. The redheaded elf clings to Bronwen, puling Bronwen’s face against her bosom. Bronwen sucks greedily at her thick nipple, feeling Elyana’s depths clutching against her fingers.
“Mmmmmmm!” Bronwen cries into Eylana’s breast, encouraging her friend as Elyana arches, head against the bars and hips jerking with climax. Elyana hugs Bronwen tighter, as if afraid she might slip away, and Bronwen can sense the rippling spasms of Elyana’s orgasm around her fingers.
FI
NGERING +100 XP
She lifts her lips from Elyana’s breasts and sees the flush of pleasure in Elyana’s cheeks. Elyana smiles up at her and Bronwen cannot resist another kiss. It is long, hot, and wet, their tongues twisting together in a collision of lust. Browne slips her fingers from Elyana’s pussy and together they lick Elyana’s juices clean from those fingers. Their tongues tease between Bronwen’s fingers and they resume their torrid kiss.
“It is my turn to pleasure you,” moans Elyana, stroking urgently between Bronwen’s thighs.
“I want more,” whispers Bronwen. “I want to taste you.”
It is something Bronwen has never done before with a woman, but Gerrik’s pleasure by the campfire informed the pleasure she might visit upon her friend. Elyana cannot resist such an offer. She leans her shoulders against the wall of the cage, holding the bars in her hands as she bends her knees and exposes her glistening, red-thatched cunt.
Bronwen, on her hands and knees, kisses her way back down over Elyana’s heaving breasts, hitching tummy, and to that hot, sweet-scented vessel of Elyana’s desire. She looks up into her friend’s blue eyes and kisses her creamy inner thighs. She brushes her lips against Elyana’s cuntlips, eliciting a soft cry, tasting the first drops of Elyana’s dew upon her lips. She cannot resist long, pressing her mouth to that slick flower and her tongue deep inside, tasting the smooth inner walls of Elyana’s cunt.
“Ohhhhh, Bronwen!” Elyana wails, sliding her fingers into Bronwen’s blonde hair. “Ohhhh, your tongue, it is… it is magnificent.”
Elyana’s words only encourage Bronwen to greater enthusiasm. She licks fervently at Elyana’s bud, flicking her tongue against the redhead’s clit and feeling the hot juices of her cunt pour onto her chin. She is ravenous for this sweet fruit, lashing and licking with her tongue, probing once more with her fingers, and, finally, sucking at that precious bead of Elyana’s clit.
“Ahhhhhh! I am cumming!” Elyana cries, her voice loud and echoing in the undercroft. She bucks her hips and fucks against Bronwen’s fingers and tongue. Her sweet juices spill into Bronwen’s mouth. Bronwen slides her fingers in and out of Elyana’s sweet cunt and licks and sucks Elyana’s clit until Elyana lets out a long sigh of relief.
ORAL SEX + 150 XP
Bronwen finally lifts her head from between Elyana’s creamy thighs, her face hot and sweaty and red, her lips and chin glistening with Elyana’s nectar. Elyana pulls Bronwen into another kiss and Bronwen presses atop her, their bodies meeting and sharing their warmth.
“Now I will show you—“
The angry bark of an orc slaver interrupts Elyana’s promise. Her head jerks up and Bronwen sits high on her knees. All around them, captives are standing and backing fearfully away from the doors of their cages. Bronwen and Elyana stand and Bronwen can see the hulking shape of orcs moving among the cages nearest the entrance. There is a loud clang as the cage is thrown open, a brief struggle as the captives are fitted with submission collars, and screams of terror from the other slaves as this first group is prodded towards the stairs.
“What do we do?” Elyana cries with fear.
“Your loincloth,” says Bronwen, picking up her own clothes. “Put your clothing on. We need to be ready. We may only have one chance to escape.”
“The collars,” says Elyana, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Once they put them on we won’t be able to resist.”
“Fight it,” says Bronwen. “Try to keep your wits and your will. It is all we can do if we get put in the collars.”
In truth, Bronwen fears there is no hope of escape. She refuses to admit this and further demoralize her friend.
Amid the chaos of the slaves being led out for auction, Bronwen is surprised to see a goblin scurrying towards her cage. He weaves past orcs and ducks beneath an annoyed swing from one foul-tempered brute. For a moment, Bronwen thinks it is Gerrik. But no, this goblin is smaller and younger, almost a juvenile. It wears no charms or totems and carries a rolled piece of parchment in place of Gerrik’s gnarled staff.
He reaches the cage and looks up at Bronwen and Elyana.
“You Bronwen?” He asks, his voice a squeak.
“Y-yes, that’s right,” she says.
He thrusts his bony hand through the bars clutching the roll of parchment. She takes it gingerly from his grasp and the goblin scurries away as suddenly as he appeared.
“What does it say?” Elyana asks.
Bronwen unrolls the parchment, her gaze flicking over the text hastily scrawled on the parchment.
Still alive. Will come for you. Have a plan. Don’t start any fights. Trust me.
Alex
Alex? It takes her a moment to realize that Gerrik has used the name he says is his real human name. Her heart swells with hope. She quickly tears the parchment to pieces.
“He is here,” she says, looking around hopefully. “My Blood Keeper.”
“The goblin?” Elyana presses her face against the bars as if she might see him in the chaos of the orcs emptying cages. Her breasts squeeze against the metal cage.
“Yes,” says Bronwen. “He has a plan. He is going to save us.”
Bronwen hopes Gerrik is right as the orc slavers approach the cage she shares with Elyana. If not, she is about to be sold into slavery to a monster.
To be continued!
Final Character Sheet for Book 1
Bronwen-of-the-Red-Feather
Race: Wild Elf
Alignment: Good
Class: Warrior
Status: Blood Debt to Gerrik
Level: 3
Experience Points: 5750/6250
Strength:
16
Hit Points: 48/48
Agility:
12
Armor Points: 4/4
Stamina:
12
Intelligence:
10
Willpower:
10
Charisma:
10
Special Abilities
Wild Elf Fury (Ignore Pain or Fear Effects for 60 seconds)
Irresistible Kiss (A persuasive kiss that cannot be refused)
Power Strike (Quadruple damage on a single blow once per hour)
Equipment
Customized Wild Elf Basic Armor (4)
Sexual Content – YES
Extreme Content - YES
Fertility – YES
Artwork by O. Tovkach aka TagoVanTor (Tumblr | Deviant Art)
Blood Debt of the Wild Elf Page 11