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*Chapter 64 - Another Dream...
🕑 Added 2021-08-27 01:56:07 +0000 UTCChapter 64 - Another Dream...
It only took her a couple seconds to put her new equipment on.
She looked like a true priestess of the dark arts now. She still wore a black-silk robe underneath the new cloak, given it was a new one because the old one had been ruined, but the bone necklace and glowing green lantern really made her stand out and even look formidable as well as beautiful.
Trey was now down to about 10,000 coin total, but despite this he was sure he’d gotten a good deal just now. Rivia had already proved herself useful many times, and she’d likely be one of his primary minions to invest in.
He stuck a finger out and pressed it against the third writ. “You owe me the best blowjob of your life when we get home for that.”
Rivia just kept smiling, wiped a tear away and nodded excitedly. “Yes master! Anything!”
Amused, Trey took his finger back. “Glad we’re on the same page. Yo, Atharost, anything you want while we’re here?”
The ifrit smirked and palmed the ruby amulet around his neck, the one he’d gotten back in the Earthborn tournament. “Unless you can find fireproof attire like the loin cloth I wear, I doubt it would do me any good. Perhaps an elemental staff or spell scroll regarding fire spells could be used… but I have to claim my class first. Otherwise I won’t be able to learn anymore spells because I’ve already reached the limit of 4 regarding classless individuals.”
Trey was seriously surprised. “You’re choosing a class? Can demons do that?”
Atharost nodded. “Yes… Some options are a little different than classes mortals are presented with, but nevertheless they are classes. I have two options right now, but I need to think about it and decide when I’m more sure.”
“Cool. Let me know when you do it! I’m excited to see what you’ve got going on!”
Atharost smiled genuinely at the interest Trey showed and agreed to let him know whenever it was going to happen. “Do we have anything else other than food and camping supplies that we need to buy?”
Trey shot the high elf Astala a glance. Astala - the pretty, brunette, middle-aged cook - was obediently trailing behind the others at all times… but she hadn’t said much yet. “Yeah, I’ve actually got something in particular I need to buy for the cook here.”
Astala perked up when she realized the two men were talking about her. She smiled warily at the two of them and wringed her fingers together. “Oh?”
Trey put his hands in his cloak pockets with a grin. “Yup. We’re going to buy you a cooking set, you can use it tonight to cook us dinner. We’re going to all get to know one another really well! All of you get to choose your own types of alcohol too. I look forward to seeing how good you are at making a meal, Astala! Come on! I’ll show you.”
Astala’s features softened and the woman gave him a look of gratitude, timidly brushing one of her trailing brown locks behind her pointed ear. “Thank you…”
Karus the dwarf was quickest to get excited about the prospect of a feast and alcohol, and he waved an armored fist in the air triumphantly. “AYE! I likes the sound uh that boy! Ya ever seen a dwarf drink? BECAUSE YA GONA FIND OUT I TAKE LOTS!”
Trey and Atharost laughed along with the dwarf, while Astala joined Rivia in smiling silently as they walked towards the food carts a few rows down.
Napoleon hopped off Trey’s shoulder and scampered over to Astala’s feet. Surprised and slightly startled, Astala looked skittishly between Trey and Naopleon as if to ask what she should do.
Napoleon continued examining her with a tilt to his head and took a deep breath in. “I I want food that not gross gross! Trey no no cook well. He burn burn. Astala cook me fish?”
Astala’s smile widened even further, and brunette woman bent down to extend a hand to the small imp. “Oh honey, of course I can. That shouldn’t be a problem.”
***
That’s all it had taken for Napoleon to become utterly obsessed with Astala, and he even offered to help her cook by using his flames to cook the food. Astala, laughing for the first time since being bought, had eagerly accepted the friendship that Napoleon extended to her. She looked genuinely happy as she and Napoleon chattered about everything from what fish he wanted to why Trey’s horns were ‘ugly ugly.’
Stopping at the Fost compound’s entrance two hours later after waving at some of the sentries, Trey addressed his group and met each of their gazes with the sun setting behind them. His demeanor had changed from one of happy-go-lucky to suddenly serious, and it caught all of them off guard as they set down their packs of supplies and camping equipment. “Ahem. I have something important to say so everyone please be quiet… and Rivia, translate for Charles. In fact, I want you to spend at least two hours every day teaching Charles how to speak the human language. Alright?”
Rivia, still cradling Alkir’s Third Writ, nodded happily in understanding. She walked over to where the heavily armored culn warrior stood and began to whisper to him as Trey addressed the group.
“Good. Alright then… I had a long chat with my senior summoner Gorthomal the day I bought all of you. For all of you who are considered thralls… it appears that if I permanently die, you die too.” Trey paused, letting the words sink in. “Thrall souls are broken, though I’m not sure exactly of the details, and you all need to latch on to a summoner’s contract in order to even survive anymore. So that should give you all some motivation to help me out instead of being an asshat like Rivia was here in the beginning of our relationship. We’re going to be entering the Deadlands of Ornthas likely in the next couple days, there’ll be an enormous amount of undead there… as well as varieties of other monsters or demon tribes. It’s going to be a rough ride, and when we get there we’ll be entering a dungeon not many, if any, have explored on a tip Gorthomal has. I want you all to be mentally prepared for when we leave.”
The minions were all silent, aside from Talsh’Noc’Un who hissed lightly from the position along his back. The two dark elves in particular were growing angrier than usual, and Rofa - Tarline’s brother - was particularly pissed off by the looks of it.
Trey sighed, wiping the sweat from his face and putting his hands on his hips. “You should all probably know that I’m Earthborn. That’s why I specified that it would need to be a permanent death. I have on cycles and off cycles for 6 months at a time with permanence granted to me by the All Spirit, if I die in an ON cycle - you’ll likely all be sent to your specific nether realms to return when I am reborn and summon you again. If I die in an OFF cycle, like it is now, then you’ll all be sent to your nether realms until the contract fades. Then you’ll be spit out of the nether realm like any other minion, but unlike Charles, Rivia, Napoleon and Atharost… you thralls will slowly start dying. If that happens, you need to find a warlock or an infernal summoner and ask them to take you in.”
Murmurs arose between his minions and Karus raised a hand to speak. “Lad, you’re saying you’re one of the chosen immortals? From the manaless realm?”
Trey gave a half-hearted laugh. “Uh, not sure about being chosen or anything like that but yeah. I’m immortal for about half a year at a time, then mortal again for another half year, then switch back. It’s a cycle. As for Earth, yes it doesn’t have magic. I’ve been told that has something to do with our abilities to grasp onto mana so easily when we get here. That demihuman you all met earlier, Ashe, she’s also Earthborn. As are two others of our group, their names are Jason and Izumi… you’re about to meet them when we head in.”
Rofa sneered and spat in Trey’s direction. “You’re lying. You’re nothing more than an everyday human just like the rest of your garbage species. We all know there are no demihumans from Earth! You’re a greedy, unequipped, ill prepared, slaving idiot bent on getting us all killed for some treasures in the Deadlands just like the rest of your summoner friends. Inflated self importance with the intelligence of a dog.”
Rofa was about to say something else in his snide condescending tone but Trey cut him off.
“I don’t give two shits if you believe me or not but it’s the truth. I wasn’t the one who put you in your current situation but I can’t even let you go without your soul decaying. Take the hand you were dealt with and make the most of it. I just figured you should all know. Don’t interrupt me again, asshat.” Trey glared the drow down, meeting Rofa’s angry stare with his own. “You should consider yourself lucky I bought you and didn’t leave you to die with all those other sacrifices. All you’ve done today is whine, cut that shit out.”
Again, Rofa sneered in contempt and folded his arms. The studded leather Trey’d bought the drow fit him well and the bow, quivers of arrows, as well as daggers all fit the rogue perfectly. The same could be said about Rofa’s sister. Tarline in particular looked quite good in an identical form fitting outfit, and it was distracting enough to Trey that he didn’t even notice he was being insulted. He didn’t even register the new strings of words coming from Rofa’s mouth until Atharost slammed a fist into Rofa’s gut.
The drow man let out a sharp gasp, doubled over and was sent to his knees as Tarline stepped back fearfully from the greater class demon who’d just burst into an inferno before them. Karus, Charles and Astala all did the same with sudden terror in their eyes. Rivia and Napoleon weren’t phased at all.
“WHOA! Atharost, chill buddy!” Trey quickly stepped inbetween them as his good friend quenched his flames to give him a disappointed stare. With the anger evident in Atharost, Trey was relatively sure he’d have killed the drow man right there if he hadn’t intervened. The ifrit had little to no respect for creatures he considered inferior, especially ones that annoyed him, and the list of things he considered inferior was quite long.
Atharost’s following scowl at Trey interfering confirmed it. “You should not let such lesser creatures talk to you like this. Let me teach him where his place in life is. I will put him to the flame and reduce him to cinders and ash.”
Trey shook his head adamantly as Tarline anxiously helped her brother get up behind him with fleeting glances at Atharost. “No, no, no… none of that. I appreciate the thought but no burning people alive today. I want us all to get along.”
The ifrit snorted, folding his arms and lashing his tail out to slap the ground. “It will be impossible with this runt always bitching. Kill him and be done with it, you can find a new minion who is more cooperative.”
“I said no. He may be a bitch, but he was expensive.” Trey’s features grew grim in his seriousness on the matter. “Now stop.”
Atharost stared at him for a time, then shook his head in hopelessness. He even chuckled a bit. “Alright then. You are the master. Do as you wish.”
A small voice trailed off behind them, causing Trey to turn around and find its source. “Astala? Did you say something?”
The high elf gave him a timid smile and kept her head bowed, but her eyes locked onto his for a second to pick up her volume. “Yes… I just wanted to say that I for one appreciate what you did.”
Trey blinked. Then he blinked again. “Huh?”
Astala cleared her throat and gained a little more courage with Napoleon snuggling up next to her breasts in the crook of her arm, but it was apparent she had to really strain an effort to even speak with him at all. “I... just know that you could have picked someone else. Someone more useful.”
Her head came up just a bit and her smile became more prominent, more friendly. “I didn’t expect to be bought. I don’t know why you chose me over the others who could have done more for you than just cook… nobody has put any value in that in the past. I thought I was going to die there… so thank you. I owe you my life and I’ll do my best to serve you. If you ever think me useless, just let me know what I need to do to change… and I’ll do it.”
It was completely unexpected and Trey was caught off guard. If anything he’d have thought they’d be angry with him just as the drow were. He pondered her words for a good while longer, looking her over, and seriously considered whether or not she’d be a good fit for one of the evolution stones once they matured. He didn’t know what they did yet in terms of how the evolution would play out, but it was likely a good thing. And it was a gamble he was willing to take… he’d be more prone to take it on a thrall that liked him too - rather than a jerk like these two drow.
“Aye laddie.” Karus the dwarf thoughtfully stroked his long brown beard poking out from underneath his barbute helm after strapping his battleaxe across the kite shield on his back. “We all thought we was gonners. I’m not gona say thanks for buyin us because it was self interest that did it, but I am thankful for the opportunity to keep livin. Now that I be a thrall, I will never be free from your kind. At the least, I would like whoever it be that owns my soul to be someone I like. So far you aint doin a bad job laddie. Now we gona eat or what?”
Trey let on a genuine smile. “Indeed… we are.”
***
That night, their apartment was the liveliest it had ever been.
The camping equipment was used to make up for the lack of furniture, and everyone had somewhere to sit. Lanterns lit up the inside and were hung outside off the bars surrounding the balcony too. The cooking fire supplied some vision for them as well, though its primary purpose was for the preparation of food and was locate on a square slab of stone in the back of the balcony. Ashe had also brought in two long wooden tables, one for outside and one for inside, and although it made the communal room crowded it also let them all eat and drink together.
Eeme and Ashe were quick to hit it off with Astala, and the high elf soon found herself laughing and joking with the two blondes as if she’d known them for years while working under the starlit night sky outside. Napoleon had also kept his word and kept the fire going after they’d set up Astala’s cooking supplies, with a large pot of stew set out on the balcony atop the stone slab where the fire was lit. Rivia was deep in conversation with her fellow culn Charles, and was animatedly explaining to him how she’d come to be Trey’s minion; and what her life used to be like back in Oblivion. The two drow siblings, Rofa and Tarline, were sitting off to themselves along the side looking out a window along the dispersed night-lights of Teretog - and were speaking in hushed tones to one another while sipping on brandy. Izumi was deep in conversation with Atharost and Jason about the meaning of life, while Karus was drinking with Trey as the amazonian woman Juila gave her master a full body massage on one of the cots.
“Rough day?” Juila asked while putting a shot glass to Trey’s lips. She was slowly grinding along his groin in her undergarments and smiled as she felt his lower half come to life.
Trey downed the rum in a single go but coughed at sputtered after feeling the burn of the alcohol. In his current position with his back against the cot and his hands behind his head, the alcohol had a hard time going down and forced him to sit up momentarily.
Juila was quick to push him back down with a laugh and yanked his long black demon tail. “Nope! Don’t be a pussy!”
Trey smacked her poorly concealed ass as her hands came down across his abdomen. “You’ve been hanging out with Ashe too much. That’s something she would say.”
Karus sat just across from him on a table bench and burped loudly. The dwarf was on his eighth mug of mead and was thoroughly buzzed, though hadn’t hit drunk yet. He’d set his armor off to the side a while ago and his thick head of red hair was frazzled from all the heat wearing it around. “So let me get this straight laddie, you jumped to Oblivion from another world and then jumped again to this world from there?”
Trey nodded, watching Juila lick spilled rum off his chest with satisfaction. “Yeah. It’s all been a real shit show man. So tell me about you, how’d you get to where you are?”
Karus drained another mug, belched, and poured himself another glass from the barrel they’d bought earlier that day. Leaning against the wooden planks and sealing the barrel’s tap, Karus faded off into distant memories. He shook his head, frowning as he did, and plopped his his large muscular arms on the table. “It be a sad story lad. I’d rather have a good night this night, though we can certainly speak on such things another day.”
Trey frowned. “Not even a clue?”
“Hah! A clue. Fine.” Karus tapped his sausage-sized fingers on the wood a couple times, sipping on the amber foaming liquid in his cup and staring down at it like it would give him all the answers to his problems if he just kept it up long enough. “I killed a man who slept with my wife behind me back. I had ta run, then got caught by slavers after comin here. That be the short version.”
“Really? What did you do before you ran?”
“I was a soldier in the king’s army.” Karus proudly made a strange salute involving his fists together out in front of him.
“Which army would that be?”
“Kag’Dul’s army.”
“Where’s that?”
“It’s a nation on the western continent across the sea.”
Juila stopped rubbing Trey’s pectoral muscles and took the drink out of Trey’s hand to down it herself in one go without a problem, raising her hand in the air and victoriously laughing at Trey’s surprised look.
Karus laughed along with her and slapped his thigh. “She can likely outdrink you laddie! She’s putin ya to shame!”
From across the room at the doorway leading to the balcony, Ashe drunkenly called out to the common room. “DINNER’S READY! COME GET IT!”
Juila leapt up off of Trey and bounded across the room, playfully pushing Ashe out of the way to get to the table full of food set out on the caged balcony overlooking Teretog. Trey was quick to follow as were many of the others. As they began to trickle out, he swatted at Ashe’s wagging fox tail just because.
The balcony had bars surrounding it on all sides that were reinforced with heavy defensive enchantments, as were all the balconies in the fost compound. It still let in a good amount of light though and allowed them to enjoy the outdoors, but that wasn’t the thing that caught Trey’s attention.
It was the food.
He knew he’d spent a good amount of money on pots, pans, utensils, and various other cooking supplies as well as the ingredients that Astala had requested. It had been a good amount of it, but he hadn’t thought she’d be able to make it all look and smell so nice… and it’d only taken her a couple hours to do so.
There were stacks of neatly carved fillets cooked from medium well to medium rare. There was a pot over the fire of an incredible smelling stew that had a mixture of vegetables, spices, and meats in a deep brown broth. Selections of fruit including grapes, apples, pears, and oranges were diced and aligned neatly on trays. Olive oil with freshly cooked bread, yellow elvish crackers, and tiny pink cakes that could fit in your hand were also on display. All of it smelled amazing, like it was right up next to his nostrils even though he stood a couple feet away, and he began to salivate almost instantly.
“Holy shit!” Trey exclaimed, amazed at the sight before him after eating the equivalent of pig shit most days since arriving to Teretog. “This looks so good! How did you get it to smell that way? It’s like I hit a brick wall of heaven for my nostrils as soon as I walked out!”
Astala blushed profusely and timidly looked to the ground while clasping her hands together, though the smile she had was very evident. “Thank you Trey. I used my ascended cooking to improve both the smell and flavor, so I hope you like it. It isn’t much... and I had help. I just… I just hope you don’t think I’m useless.”
Napoleon proudly perched himself on top of her shoulder like he usually did with Trey and nodded vigorously. “I help help too!”
Trey chuckled and walked over to pat his imp on the head. “You did well too, Napoleon.”
He switched his gaze to Astala and gave the high elf a wink. “You’re not useless. I told you that I wanted you for your cooking skill right? I’m genuinely interested about what these non-combat classes can do.”
Astala nodded, though her frown admitted her true thoughts. The others were filtering outside to excitedly take trays they’d bought earlier that day and fill them with the food, and even the two drow came out to wait at the end of the line for their turn to get some too.
Trey folded his arms curiously as Astala’s demeanor became more brooding. “You don’t believe me?”
The mature elf woman’s lip began to tremble and her fingers tightened around one another, causing her knuckles to go white.
God damn it. Why was everyone so emotional lately?
Taking her by the hand, Trey pulled her inside. “Come on. Let’s talk. Napoleon, give us a minute.”
Napoleon hopped off and gave him a mocking salute, then raced over to Izumi for more petting. Trey tugged Astala further in, walked into his room and promptly shut the door behind them. He sat down on Atharost’s bed and motioned for her to sit across from him on his own bed.
She did so, but failed to meet his eyes and wiped away a single tear that trickled down her face in silence.
Trey smiled reassuringly and leaned forward. “This is an order… Tell me what’s wrong. All of it.”
Her minion contract sent a shock through her after she initially tried to resist, though it wasn’t anything painful as her resistance had only been superficial. At most - it just startled her, so she was quick to reply a few seconds later. “I think you will be disappointed with me. I’m scared that you’ll get rid of me and I’ll die because no one will want me. I’m scared that you’ll think you chose wrong.”
Tears welled up again and began streaming down her face as her voice broke. The trembling woman hugged herself and continued staring at the ground, avoiding eye contact completely. “I am so scared. If what the summoners told me is true, my soul won’t survive without a bound contract... I’m not even mortal anymore. I’m a thrall, damned eternally from the heavens and afterlives of my people. I keep thinking about what will happen to me one day when I finally do die, and the thought scares me. Will I just fade away into nothing? It is likely. My soul has been shattered after they killed my friends and enslaved me. Part of me wonders if that is a blessing, because my will to live is failing me after what they did to my husband. His soul was fed to those creatures in the pit…”
Her body convulsed with a sob and she had to stop speaking in order to get control of herself again. Sniffling and actively crying now, her bloodshot eyes told of great sorrow as she traversed the memories of her past. “My husband… his name was Yasla. He was given a death beyond death, he will never have an afterlife. His soul is no more. He just simply… he doesn’t exist anymore. That… that breaks my heart a thousand times over. Sometimes the pain becomes so unbearable that I wish that I myself were dead… but in those moments, I am too afraid to follow through and try.”
Trey clarified with a concerned frown. “To try and kill yourself?”
Astala nodded and wiped the stream of tears away, sniffling again and finally looking up. “I am afraid to die. Despite the hellish existence I have experienced after my boat was attacked and I was taken and turned into a thrall, I still wish to live.”
She got onto her knees, shakilly putting her head to the floor in a prostrated position and continued to weep as she spoke. “Please… Please master, do not forsake me. I will be useful to you… I promise! I promise… just give me a chance to prove myself! I will do whatever it is you ask of me… just do not leave me behind to die… I am so scared… I promise you I will do anything you ask!”
She continued to repeat these words, begging him to not discard her for fear of her soul dissolving along with her contract should he choose to be rid of it. The floorboards under her face became wet with small pools of tears as she sobbed, quivering under his gaze.
Trey’s glowing red irises stayed focused on the elf with a saddened expression. He’d rarely seen anyone in so much emotional distress, including the many people he’d killed over his lifetime. She was easily within the top three he’d ever seen in all his lifetime, and he truly felt sorry for her.
“Do you wish me to be honest with you Astala?”
Astala’s crying softened, and she timidly looked up to him through her locks of brunette hair strung over her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words formed. Instead she sat there staring at him as if she were mute.
Trey shifted his sitting position to the floor next to her, giving her another sad but encouraging smile. “The first thing I want to say is that I’m sorry you’re here. I’m sorry that you lost your husband, it must have been terrible and I wish it wouldn’t have happened. That being said: I don’t feel guilty for buying you and am glad you feel gratitude for the sacrifice I made in purchasing you… and it was a sacrifice. I’m going to be honest with you Astala, because after listening to your fears I think you need to hear it… I agree. In terms of fighting and combat, I think you’re utterly useless. I also bought you at a price that is probably much more than you’re worth.”
Astala’s face contorted into one of fear and sorrow again, but before she began bawling Trey held up a finger to her lips to tell her to keep quiet.
“I bought you for three reasons, Astala. The first and foremost… I felt bad for you. You were absolutely out of place there and we both know no one else would have bought you. You were going to be sacrificed for sure.” He let out a long sigh and shook his head. “Gorthomal was right, you’re not going to be of any use to us when we enter the Deadlands. Those hellhounds or the minotaur would have been a much better buy. But that’s ok, it’s a choice I made and I’m sticking with it.”
He held up two fingers, removing the one from her lips and keeping eye contact. “The second reason was legitimately what I already told you. I’m very interested in figuring out what all these non-combat classes are about. I’m interested in having minions with these classes as extensions of myself. Now that I own your body and soul, I very much view it that way. You are an extension of me. I know I could have forced any one of my minions into the cooking class, I’ve heard you say it to Napoleon in passing. That’s absolutely right. I could have, and although your cooking level is rather high, it wouldn’t be hard to replace you with someone much better. Nevertheless, I chose you. Because of this I’m going to milk you for all your worth. You’re going to get good, and I mean really good. I’ve been talking to some of the Fost members here in the compound and I have a pretty good idea of how long it takes to level up cooking. Apparently it’s a lot slower to level up than most skills, so you have a great head start - but we’re going to have to find you some rare ingredients for special recipes and get you using your ascended cooking for more than just stuff to please taste buds. That will all likely come later though.”
He held up a third finger. “The last reason is a simple one. I’m a whore, and I thought you were hot. I’m actually very attracted to you. So hopefully you can get comfortable with me over time. I hope that’s ok, and with that in mind I really wouldn’t worry about being tossed aside. That isn’t going to happen.”
They stared at each other for over a minute. Astala’s face was intermixed with varieties of emotions that changed by the second, and occasionally she would still sniffle or shed a tear but she’d calmed down considerably. Eventually she gave him a nod and clasped her hands together on top of her lap.
“I understand, and thank you.”
“Good.” Trey replied with an upbeat demeanor. He picked himself up, dusted himself off and extended a hand towards her. “You know, Napoleon really likes you. The others seem to like you a lot too. I truly mean it when I say this, but I hope you end up liking it here.”
Astala mustered the best smile she could, which was a rather pitiful attempt but was a smile nonetheless, and took his hand to stand up. She locked eyes with him one more time and took in a deep breath to exhale slowly. “You are a strange one. Summoners are supposed to be viciously cruel.”
“Consider yourself lucky then.” Trey chuckled and opened the door for her. “Try to have a good night. It’s going to get rough starting here in a few days, so enjoy this while you can.”
***
Trey had been watching Astala on and off all night now. The high elf he’d bought had become something of a celebrity amongst their small social circle just within a couple hours, with everyone getting along with her splendidly. The woman was unsurprisingly an amazing cook, extraordinarily friendly, and easy to like.
The request to come to his room in the middle of the night after everyone else had gone to bed had put her on edge, that much was obvious, though she didn’t want to say no. She didn’t think he’d hurt her… but the fact that he was not only a summoner with all of the ideals that came with that as well as held her very soul in the palm of his hand was unnerving. She didn’t want to make him mad, and singling her out gave her cause to be nervous… even if she knew what probably awaited her after their talk earlier that day. Upon gathering bravery and opening the door, she spotted the two others inside. Standing there with Rivia was Trey, waiting for her as she softly shut the wooden door behind her.
Astala awkwardly stood in front of them in the dark nightgown she’d been given earlier that day and occasionally glanced up from the floor to see what they were doing. Both of them were simply staring at her, and it made her feel even more awkward. She anxiously twirled the locks of wavy brown hair that stretched down past her shoulders and tried to breath normally.
“You called for me, master?”
Trey nodded, extinguishing one of the lanterns but leaving two more to light the room. “You did a really good job tonight.”
He gave her a wink, and she felt a little more confident about herself in turn.
“I will do my best for the things you ask of me.” Astala bowed slightly, already knowing the answer to the question she was about to ask. “I truly do appreciate the compliments. Is there anything else you’d want to speak to me about?”
Rivia grinned, glanced Trey’s way, and moved forward - trailing a finger along Astala’s waist to give her the shivers before coming around to a full stop behind the nervous elf.
“Yes…” Trey said, gently smiling as he sat down on the bed. “But before I say anything else, I want you to know something. If you ever feel uncomfortable, you’re more than free to walk out of this room at any time with no repercussions. On my life, I mean that. Do you understand?”
Astala felt her cheeks flush, but she nodded promptly anyways and held eye contact.
“Are you sure you understand?” Trey pressed, genuine concern upon his face. “I won’t get mad or upset if you choose to leave at any point. Even now, if you want to go… you can.”
The elf gave another timid nod and cleared her throat, standing a bit straighter as she did. “I’m alright with being here…. Master.”
Rivia’s smile widened from behind as she leaned back against the door and crossed her arms.
“Alright then. I felt like we could all become acquainted with one another.” Trey gave her a polite smile and he lifted up a rosey red apple to approach her. It was the same one he’d bought in the market earlier that day. He slowly placed the apple directly against her lips as she stood curiously still. “Do you like apples, Astala?”
Confused with the question and still slightly nervous, Astala gingerly nodded. “I do like apples, master. Why?”
Trey grinned, tracing her curves with his eyes. “Do you like pigs, Astala?”
Astala’s brows furrowed and her hands began to sweat. “I don’t understand…”
“I said… Do you like pigs? It’s a very simple question.”
Rivia chuckled, beginning to undress before pressing her body up against Astala from behind. The demoness wrapped her bare arms around the elf, clasping her hands in front and blowing into Astala’s ear.
Astala swallowed a build-up of saliva and nervously let her gaze fall to the ground. “I suppose I do not like pigs… if I must say one way or the other. They are disgusting creatures, and ugly.”
Trey’s grin turned into a pouting frown and he pooched his lips in an exaggerated sadness. “That’s unfortunate for you then.”
Astala didn’t know what to say to that, but managed to get the question out a couple seconds later. “... What do you mean?”
Trey didn’t bother answering in that moment and held off his answer for the time being. Instead, he took two fingers and placed them against the elf’s soft lips. Putting a little more force behind them, he pushed his fingers into her mouth and opened up the slave’s jaws.
Astala’s breathing picked up and her hair began to raise just slightly along the back of her neck. She felt her mouth open even wider as he pulled her mouth open to the farthest it could go. Taking his fingers out, he pushed the apple partyway into her mouth.
His grin returned. “Bite and hold it in your mouth, don’t let it fall out.”
The thrall woman bit down with a light crunch, not knowing what in the hells Trey was doing, but obeyed his commands regardless.
“Good girl. Where I’m from, roasted pig is usually served with an apple in its mouth. You’re going to be my little piggy tonight, Astala. You see Rivia over there? She’s been playing the part regularly now for some time.”
Trey head nodded towards the demoness where she stood watching, then leaned in close to whisper into the elf’s pointed ear. “She’s going to teach you how to squeal juuussssst right, she’s going to lead by example. I want you to sound the part of a pig too… is that ok?”
Astala’s nostrils flared as Trey’s hands undid the buttons to her nightgown. Letting the dark linen fall to a rumpled heap on the floor, Trey appreciated the voluptuous breasts this woman had up close. They were round, perky and her nipples were just the right size. His hands came up and fondled them for a time before trailing down her slim waist to somewhat thick asscheeks and thighs. His fingers trailed across to her curved backside and dug into the fat of her butt, gripping lustfully getting a good whiff of how she smelled as his face brushed by her brown locks of hair - before locking lips with Rivia on the other side.
Astala took in a deep breath, laboring to get the words out with the apple halfway in her mouth but still sloppily succeeding. “I will do what I need to do… I am ready. Thank you again, for buying me… I didn’t want to die. I will make you happy if that is what you want.”
He pulled back and gazed at her from two inches away, then let on a sigh and frowned. “You… seem nervous. You can go, I won’t be mad. Rivia and I were just wanting to have a-”
Astala shook her head adamantly, drooling a bit while awkwardly talking because of the fruit lodged in her mouth. “I’m fine…”
He let his gaze linger on her a moment longer, making sure she really was ok with this, and then smiled.
His erection was rock solid now, and he pressed up against her to let her feel it. Loosening the belt around his waist and dropping his pants, he let his penis slide up against her bare skin. She was somewhere between 10 to 15 years older than Trey was, though it may have been more depending on how elves aged here on Nagochus.
Regardless, it wouldn’t stop him from taking her to bed. He took a step back and put his hands on her shoulders. “If I go too far… let me know, and I’ll stop. Just tap me repeatedly and I’ll get the message. Do you understand?”
She gave him another curious look and a small smile, but nodded and felt a little bit better. “I understand.”
She hesitantly put one hand forward, letting her fingers trail over his abdominal muscles and moving in close.
***
“HREEEE!!!! HREEEEE!!! HREEEE!!!!” Her shrill squeals rang loudly through the room as the younger man humped and spanked her.
Astala had been hogtied. Her ankles were bound together with rope and she was on her knees. She was bent over forward and her hands were bound together at the wrists behind her back while she squealed through the apple in her mouth the best she could. Drool, snot and tears dripped down her face and off the apple protruding from her mouth while making it harder for her to squeal loud enough to her master’s satisfaction. Her eyes were bloodshot and open wide, and she had a massive migraine from the repeated jarring as well as feeling like the roots of her hair wanted to tear out from all the enthusiastic yanking Trey’d done.
But… she was kind of liking it.
Bruises in the shape of handmarks were still present on her white jiggling asscheeks as Rivia and Trey locked tongues while the demoness knelt to straddle his side.
“MMMPHHH MMPHHH MPHHH!!!”
Astala’s muffled squeals changed into high pitched grunts from time to time whenever Trey got excited and sped things up, and her tits began to flop wildly under the force of his assault. His look of sincere pleasure escalated into glee as he cranked her neck backwards with one hand to better watch her boobs go crazy.
“Who’s master’s little PIGGY!? SQUEAL FOR ME SLUT!!!”
“HRRREEEEEEEE!!!”
Rivia broke off from locking lips and cast a glance down at the elf, laughing and rubbing her perfect purple tits across Trey’s shoulder before getting up and coming around. Wrapping her arms around his chest, she watched from over his shoulder with a curious fascination - lightly biting at his ear in the meantime.
Trey continued slamming his penis into the elf’s shiny wet pussy with a vigor from behind. Her rippling ass and thick thighs were amazing to watch while fucking her brains out. Perhaps leaving Earth hadn’t been such a bad thing after all.
“Your minion Astala has increased its opinion of you from ‘Wary’ to ‘Liked and Lusting.’ Your minion now has a 15% experience increase due to it remaining in the positive category.”
Well, that was a surprise. Apparently Astala was a lot more kinky than he’d given her credit for… and squealed even louder when Rivia began to bite her neck and grope her breasts.
***
Trey abruptly woke up the next morning to the sounds of birds chirping and the smell of cooking meat from somewhere beyond their room, having had a very strange dream. At least, he thought it was a dream. He'd had an out of body experience just like the last time he’d been hopping across the rooftops of Teretog, but only this time... he’d hurt Astala, while they’d had sex. What was even weirder was now that he was awake… Astala was still naked and hogtied directly up against his front, laying in bed next to him. Bruises covered her body, swollen and dark, and he immediately felt sick to his stomach.
Had he done this?
He rubbed his eyes, feeling Rivia’s warm breasts pressed up against his back. His heart and mind both began racing. If his lifelike dream had been real, he’d really fucked up... He tried to clear his head of the brian-fog and looked Astala up and down again as the elf breathed heavily to his front - her bosom moving up and down at a monotonous pace.
His features dropped into a horrified frown of disbelief. Holy shit, it looked like she’d been beaten half to death. How was this possible? Had he really fucking done this? The last time he’d had a dream like that, he’d had no evidence of it being real... But what about now?
Using every ounce of willpower that he had, he sat up and sent Sithis an internal message. ‘Sithis… did I do this? Do you remember doing this?’
‘Doing what?’ was the reply his symbiote gave him.
Trey gestured to Astala. ‘This… Do you remember having sex with her last night? Do you remember beating her?’
There was a pause, and the symbiote’s inner clockerwork began to run at high speed just as Trey’s had. ‘No. I do not remember doing that. From your surface level thoughts… I see you had another dream. Though I cannot access it… just as the last one.’
Trey nodded, glancing over his back to where Rivia lay with an arm wrapped around his chest. Rivia’s eyes were already half opened - locked onto his face, and he was glad to see she was awake. He tried to give her a mental command, failed the first time, and then succeeded on the second. He’d have to work on getting that down and still hoped Gorthomal had some tips.
But she got the message, yawned, and began reciting a prayer from her position laying down to cast a healing miracle on Astala. The bruises that covered Astala’s body began to fade, and as they did Trey began cutting her bindings only to wince after seeing she had burn marks from the ropes that had been drawn much too tight.
Those faded too though, and Astala’s eyes began to open as the last of her injuries disappeared from sight.
She didn’t look at him and even actively avoided his gaze, staring across the room even after Trey moved the hair out of her eyes.
She was scared of him...
Or so he had first thought… but when he checked the status page of his new elf minion again just to see how much damage had been done, he’d come out with his mouth slightly ajar.
Opinion of you: Liked and Lusting
What the fuck? Her opinion of him hadn’t changed since he’d blacked out. She’d likedthe abuse? What a goddamn masochist. He almost laughed aloud, and he would have if he wasn’t so worried.
Not just a little worried either, but seriously worried. He felt slightly off and even a little guilty for having had sex with her the way it had happened, but he’d planned on eventually heading down that road anyways at a pace she felt comfortable with. He was much more concerned about the fact that his body had acted on its own, and that he'd physically hurt her too. That’s something he’d never have done. NEVER. This time, the dream had been clarified as a very real event with neither he nor Sithis having any memory of doing it.
What the actual fuck?
He didn’t even know what to say to her. Opening his mouth to let the words fall out, all he got was: “Are you ok?”
The brunette elf smiled slightly and nodded with a deep set sigh of contentment, then pressed her backside up against his groin. “That was the best I’ve ever had.”
Alrighty then.
He just frowned, looked towards the floor in worry and shame, then got up to leave the two women on either side of him behind. Before he left though, gave each of them a kind smile and pulled a blanket up over each of them.
Rivia waved back before turning over and closing her eyes again, while Astala gave an amused but sleepy hum - and continued to watch him dress.
‘Where are we going?’ Sithis mused, refusing to dig deeper into Trey’s mind unless necessity demanded it. They’d come to a mutual agreement that they wouldn’t read each other’s thoughts unless they were coordinating in a fight or had special circumstances, because otherwise they just annoyed one another by finishing each other’s sentences.
Trey donned his pants, boots, and decided to forgo the shirt to leave his exposed defined, lean musculature to the morning sunlight. He’d been in shape when he’d gotten here, but now with the lifestyle he had as well as the adaptations his body had made - he was looking very fit.
He exited his room, taking time to be careful and not step on or wake anyone in the communal area, before exiting his apartment too and shutting the door behind him to lock it with a key. “We’re going to a psychic. It’s time to get some answers.”
Sithis wholeheartedly agreed.
