the subjugation of the disgusting elven race by the superior humans, chapter one: the rape, torture, and breaking of syllia, immortal elf, by the princess of the northern realms

somewhere in her twenties, syllia had finally lost count of the number of times the humans had raped her, shoving their digits or their tongues or their cocks into the various orifices of her body. the first few years it had been nearly constant, a barrage of sweaty, pallid flesh that left an acrid stench in her nostrils. even now, centuries later, the stink of human was enough to make her want to reach into her throat and pull out her own lungs.

she was perhaps a hundred and fifty or so when she lost count of how many masters she’d been bought by, passed from family to family as a fuck toy and a rape doll and a torture slut for their pleasure – too willful, they said, too dangerous – each new family pressing that hateful brand into her forehead as they made her a new oathword, the spell that branded all of her race, kept every elf man, woman and child under bondage. she’d lost count of how many times it had been used too, for every slight (or perceived slight), every hint of rebellion, stamping out her will beneath an ocean of dark pain.

at around three hundred, she lost count of exactly how old she was – too many sunless rooms, too many endless days. she used to count how many times they had nearly killed her, raped her within an inch of her life for their own sick pleasures before dragging her back from the brink, then she lost count of that too.

still, syllia counted. it didn’t matter what she counted. the number of elves she knew in this city (89). spells she had learned (347). times she had been whipped today while bound in her frame (115, now 116, 117…) times her mistress had cum in her mouth this session (3, so far, her mistress was having an energetic morning). the number of times the vile bitch had hit her nose with her pubic bone (31 and counting).

but she had to count. if she didn’t count, syllia would lose the one thing that made syllia herself. the big number, the one she kept near the front of her mind, was how many times she would make her mistress scream before she finally killed her, how many of her spells she would unleash into her hateful, wicked flesh before imploding her into her component atoms and reforming her into a statue of meat and bile and blood before all the city to see.

but that would come later. for now syllia focused on the tube of meat being shoved repeatedly between her lips, and the grunts and groans of her mistress as she tore at syllia’s silver hair, pulled her pointed ears, mauled her small breasts, and viciously raped her mouth. if she didn’t use her tongue the way mistress liked, mistress would have it cut out before magically re-forming it, and so syllia licked and suckled the head of the cock each time it passed her tongue, trying not to gag every time it shoved against the back of her throat. mistress didn’t like it when she gagged; last time she had run a knife through syllia’s neck to stop her gag reflex and used her mouth until she was nearly dead before healing her wounds.

but the physical sensations syllia could handle. she had been a rape toy for centuries, and she knew how to pleasure all manner of human organ. it was the words emitting from her mistress’ mouth which made the hate in syllia’s heart growl and twist.

‘filthy knife-eared little whore,’ moaned the princess as she pumped the elf’s mouth, grunting in time to the whip, which landed harshly on syllia’s back. the chambermaid who was whipping her was new to this task – the mistress liked to rotate which members of the staff she used to break and humiliate syllia – so her strokes often went off center and sometimes missed entirely. also the girl was tiring, so the whip sometimes landed softly enough that it merely caused incredible pain rather than tongue-chewing agony. ‘immortal little bitch. i’ll show you how immortal you are when I choke you to death on my human cock. I wish I had twenty of you elves to torture and snuff at my pleasure. fuck. you’re all worse than cockroaches – at least those filthy creatures have the decency to die properly. you whores with your slim bodies and your long legs and your big eyes… tempting good, upstanding people to sin…’

fire burned in syllia, but she kept silent, not least of all because her mouth was too plugged to retort – though more because the last time she had failed to hold her tongue she had spent two days being continuously drowned in a cauldron, gulping for air and screaming for mercy as she was lowered over and over into the boiling water. not a single scar remained from that incident; her mistress was a powerful and skilled magess; but sometimes syllia still woke up screaming, the sound of bubbles in her ears…

sometimes syllia offered a quiet prayer for her sisters (and whichever brothers still remained, she had not seen a male elf at any of the slave markets in over a century) who surely had to endure as badly as she did and worse. the precious few seconds she had each day when she was not being viciously abused or unconscious from said abuse were spent practicing her magic while praying for any god who could hear her to lift her sisters from their slavery and torture. one day. one day she would find them and free them…

but that one day was not today, and as the princess howled in pleasure as she fucked syllia’s mouth, gripping her hair passionately as she pistoned her cock into syllia’s throat, syllia felt the foul organ twitching and forced herself not to retch – but her mistress withdrew the fleshy cylinder and began to stroke it with her perfect white hand. as her mistress unloaded her fourth round of seed onto syllia’s face, splattering her pretty elven features with disgusting white globs of wretched human cum, syllia counted them too. six. seven. eight. she had to count. she always had to count.

‘gods,’ moaned her mistress as she fell back into her chair, the chambermaid continuing to whip. ‘gods I needed that. the council is being so godsdamn stubborn, and my useless fart of a wife…’

syllia knew she should be absorbing every iota of information about the humans in order to better plot her revenge, but there was almost nothing left in her mind but centuries of rage brought on by hate. and the numbers.

she knew, vaguely, that her mistress was some important human noble, either the sister or the daughter of some queen or another, and that her wife was less… sexually accomplished than she was. and somewhere in the house there was a girl, their daughter. but otherwise each day was an endless gallery of pain, and rape, and hatred.

‘oh, stop already you wretched whelp,’ moaned her mistress and the chambermaid, panting with exhaustion, dropped the whip. ‘go change out of those filthy rags before your stink makes me vomit. and fetch elira!’

the chambermaid, wearing clothes that syllia could only have described as being made of black leather, fled the room. mistress liked her staff to wear black leather when punishing syllia. mistress herself was wearing dark black silks, strewn all over her body in some human fashion that syllia didn’t understand, crisscrossing, covering certain patches of skin but leaving others exposed. using her foot, she tipped syllia’s chin upwards.

syllia didn’t like to look at her mistress; it was too hard to keep her face from contorting into a mask of pure hatred. but she was young, even for a human, only in her twenties, with a face that even an elf would consider graceful; pale white skin, and long silken hair which tumbled down her back like a waterfall of gold. but her face was bent with evil intent as she reached over with one arm…

‘and you,’ she said, pulling syllia’s ear, making her scream. ‘what do you say?’

‘thank you your highness,’ said syllia automatically. ‘thank you for teaching me my place as a worthless cum dump for your almighty cock. I am naught but rape bait for you, princess, a receptacle for your royal seed, a fuck doll for your pleasure. I am not fit to lick the shit from your arse, your majesty…’

‘well spoken knife-ears,’ said the princess, twisting syllia’s ear. ‘perhaps one day you’ll actually make me believe it.’

she turned to the door. ‘I can hear you breathing, elira. come in instead of panting all over the fucking door like a useless cow.’

the door opened and a girl walked in. the human child. she was tiny, no higher than perhaps syllia’s hip if she were standing. she looked like a smaller version of her mother, the same gold hair, the same blue eyes, but where the princess wore confidence and sadism the child was meek and frightened. syllia saw the scion of the woman who had tortured her for years and imagined wringing the tiny thing’s neck in its sleep.

‘elira, you know our elf,’ said the princess to her daughter. ‘even you could not possibly be that stupid. we’ve had her since before you were born. say yes, mother.’

‘yes, mother.’ said elira, keeping her eyes off of syllia’s naked, bleeding body, her mother’s cum still spattered on her face.

‘she is our family’s elf. See this mark on her forehead?’ said the princess, using a toe to point out the brand. ‘this is our seal. if you say the oathword that binds her, you will remind her who she belongs to.’

elira said nothing, staring at her bare feet.

‘what is our family name, elira?’

‘itharien,’ said elira automatically and syllia felt the fire surge through her. her every nerve, every muscle, every cell, was an avalanche of pain as the magical bind sent agony coursing through all of her. the princess’s cock hardened under her black silks as she watched syllia scream and writhe in pure agony. it felt like ice and fire simultaneously eating at every part of her. it felt like being ripped apart. she couldn’t breathe. she could only scream, and try to reclaim muscles that were tensing fit to snap.

‘cease,’ said the princess after what felt like a year, but judging by the step backwards the child had just taken, must have been just a moment or more. ‘very good, elira. at least you know your own name.’

the princess produced a small dagger and placed it in the child’s hand, closing her tiny fingers around it and patting gently. ‘now. mark her.’

‘m…mark her?’

‘anywhere. just cut her. show her she is yours.’

‘mother, I don’t want to,’ elira trembled, tears falling from her blue eyes.

‘it is not a matter of want, elira, you must. this is your elf. you must cut her.’

the girl stood, unmoving, and the princess shoved her forward. ‘DO IT ELIRA!’

the princess dragged her daughter close but the girl’s face was screwed up in tears. ‘mother no! I don’t want to hurt her!!’

silence. syllia breathed, deep ragged breaths, and she did not see the look on the princess’s face as she dragged elira from the room by her arm, the dagger clattering to the floor. there was a smacking sound and a child’s scream, followed shortly after by a loud thud, and then sobbing.

‘you useless fucking girl,’ the princess’s voice came through the thick door of the dungeon. ‘be grateful you do not have a brother or sister or I would slit your stupid cow throat!’ another smack. ‘how dare you embarrass me in front of our slave? how dare you bring dishonor onto your family name?’

‘mother i’m sorry i’m sorry,’ babbled the child as the princess hit her again. ‘i’m sorry…’

‘you don’t even know what you’re sorry for you pig-headed idiot!’ the princess hit her, and hit her, and hit her. ‘get out of my fucking sight!’

syllia heard footsteps as the child fled, and a moment later the door opened again and the princess strode in. the dagger was taken from the floor and immediately shoved into syllia’s shoulder, making her scream as the metal pierced her lung.

‘right,’ said the princess, reaching between syllia’s legs and spreading her cheeks. ‘it looks like I am going to have to be the one to reinforce this lesson. whose are you, little worm?’

‘I am yours mistress,’ whispered syllia, grunting, unable to get air through her rapidly collapsing lung.

‘say it like you fucking mean it, you horrible fucking wretch.’

‘I, aah!’ syllia screamed as her mistress penetrated her bowels, pushing hard against the dry walls. ‘I serve only you, mistress… my pitiful life… my filthy body… are yours aaah! to command, to use, to rape and torture and break as you de- AAAH! -desire…’

‘good,’ moaned the princess as she raped syllia for what must have been the thousandth time. syllia tried to count her own breaths; six, seven, eight, but when her mistress’s hands went around her neck she could barely do even that. ‘choke for me, little elfin bitch. I will suffocate you like the rape slut you are…’

‘princess,’ syllia choked, ropes of cum dangling from her face as she was rocked in her frame by the princess’s savage thrusts. she could feel her voice going. ‘your highness, I beg you… please…’

but her majesty was lost in pleasure and rage, her fingers squeezing tighter and tighter around syllia’s neck as she fucked her in a frenzy. syllia could feel panic rising within her. her mistress had brought her close to death many times, but always slowly, controlled, long sessions of planned pain and endless torture as she was baked alive, or burnt at a stake by magical fire, or flayed to make a leather rug for her mistress’ bedroom; or in one memorable feat of acrobatics and magical ability, she had forced syllia to tear her own heart out before raping one of the valves and forcing the mixture of lifeblood and seed into syllia’s mouth as she slowly bled out onto the dungeon floor.

but when the princess was in a fury, as she was now, she tended to lose control. whipping syllia until the bones showed. tearing her limb from limb before reattaching them. raping her eye socket, each thrust coming dangerously close to destroying her brain. as syllia felt the blackness creeping into her vision with every thrust, felt the fingers squeezing harder and harder, unable to speak, she could feel it… no. no not like this. she hadn’t… she hadn’t… finished… counting…

a burst of light appeared at syllia’s neck, forcing the princess’s hands back as syllia gulped beautiful, sweet air, gasping and coughing as her blue face sucked in as much as she could. it was a blessed relief; until she realized what she had done, turning her head to see the shock on the princess’s face turning into rage…

syllia was very, very fast. she was an elf, eternal, nearly ageless, barely in her three hundreds, and she had spent centuries practicing her magic. the bolt of flame at her fingers appeared instantaeously, coiled to strike.

the princess was head of the council of mages, protector of the forbidden knowledges, her most high the most elevated sorceress of the white city, ruler of magic in all the northern lands. as fast as syllia was, she was faster.

syllia’s flame was extinguished by a ball of blue ice, freezing her hand to the bone instantly. syllia screamed as she felt the frost bite her down – she had been too late.

‘you fucking bitch!’ screamed the princess, still hip-deep inside syllia’s arse. syllia could feel the throb of the princess’s cock as she immediately screamed ‘ITHARIEN’, making syllia’s entire body shake so hard she broke her frozen hand against her frame, the shards of ice and bone and crystal blood falling to the ground as she screamed. ‘you fucking traitorous little worm! where the fuck did you learn magic? who taught you? WHO!?’

but syllia could not answer, her body was wracked by magical pain. her soul was dying too… for she knew now that she would never leave this place. she had given up her one secret, her one ace, her one weapon. all her counting, all her numbers, her centuries of holding out hope, all came down to one, final, inescapable fact:

she been defeated, completely and utterly. she was going to die in this room.
—
‘hey,’ whispered bethany by the kitchen door. stable girls were not supposed to be in the mansion, but elira pretended not to hear as she drank her soup; bethany already didn’t like her and sometimes put her horse into a bad mood before elira’s riding lessons. ‘hey paulina!’

‘what?’ whispered the young scullery maid who was stationed by the door. they were both speaking low enough that the various house staff, including the footmen and the head butleress, could pretend to ignore them. apart from elira, they were the only ones in the room; her two mothers had ‘retired early to bed’ – she knew it was to stuff that disgusting shit up their noses, the contraband crystal from down south.

elira heard a quiet jingling sound from behind the kitchen door, and paulina giggled and squeed, escaping into the kitchen. apparently it was their turn tonight to abuse and torture the poor elf girl.

one of the side effects of that horrid crystal was that her royal highness had felt less capable of raping the girl in the dungeon with the vigor she’d had in her younger days, before all the responsibilities of maintaining the new alliance had fallen onto her head. but she still wanted syllia to know her place, so she’d drawn up a rota for all her household staff to take turns slaking their lusts on the poor thing. at first elira had been including in this rota but she told her mother she’d rather cut her own throat before laying a finger on poor syllia, and she had yet to produce another heir, so left out she was.

the thought that her own mother would have made elira, a girl not even twelve years of age, who hadn’t even had her first bleeding, to force herself upon the elf just to show her dominance made her sick. just the thought of it made her want to throw up her soup. and as each of the house staff went down into that cellar – elira could hear the screams from her bedroom sometimes – she realized just how much she hated it here. she could barely look anyone from this house in the eyes.

but then again, what choice did she have?

‘did my lady have a good fencing lesson today?’ said josephino the head butleress, the only member of staff who was excluded from the rapes; her noble blood giving her the right to refuse to debase herself in such a foul manner. it often felt like the tall, dark-skinned woman could read elira’s mind, piercing straight to the heart of what troubled her.

‘master wellen says I am improving very fast,’ she said, repeating what she had told her mother the princess, and her other mother as well. ‘soon I will be ready to join the cadets.’

‘that will be quite a day,’ said the head butleress in her smooth accent. ‘but truly my lady, perhaps you should consider a career with the mage’s council. your magical talent is prodigous, and from my understanding you could have a long and fruitful life there.’

she knew why josephino was saying this, just as josephino knew why elira would refuse. she would rather die than spend a moment under her mother’s control in the mage’s council – but the most frequent task a new recruit in the northern cadets was assigned was elf-hunting operations…

‘I shall take your kind advice into consideration,’ whispered elira, spooning the last of her soup into her mouth. ‘please may I be excused?’

‘you may,’ josephino replied, pulling out elira’s chair. it had just been a few months ago that elira’s feet could not touch the floor from a seated position.

she didn’t know what possessed her in that moment when she was walking past josephino – maybe it was just that there had been so much going on lately, with her absent parents and the constant reminders that soon she would have to be a part of her grim society – but elira threw her arms around the butleress, with her fine blue uniform. shocked, the woman hesitated – none of the house staff were permitted to touch elira – but, slowly, gently she returned the hug.

‘I love you josephino,’ said elira, sniffing. ‘I know you’re always looking out for me.’

‘my lady, you already know the contents of my heart,’ smiled the older woman. ‘I shall always be here for you. recruits, mage’s guild, come the end of the world.’

‘who knows,’ said elira, whispering now. ‘maybe one day with enough of that dust in her nose my mother will finally calm down and love me too.’

‘maybe one day,’ josephino whispered back, kissing the top of elira’s head. ‘truly I wish that for you more than anything else. now, to bed, my lady. before you get me into trouble.’

and so elira went up to bed, feeling just a little better about the state of the world.
—
‘aaah!’ moaned paulina, rubbing her cunt into syllia’s elfin mouth as she gripped the elf’s silvery hair in one hand, riding her face for all she was worth. ‘oh fuck! aah! oh gods!’ paulina gripped the elf’s metal collar, which was always warm to the touch as she shuddered, cumming hard on the girl’s lips.

‘oh she feels so good,’ hissed bethany as she wrapped her hands around syllia’s hips and thrust into her unresisting body, the elf’s missing right hand bumping along the cold ground. ‘gods it’s been so long since our last turn with this bitch… no offense paulina but that sweet cunt of yours hasn’t got anything on this knife-eared bitch. I can see why they’re bred to be slaves… she’s so fucking tight! ohh!’ she punctuated her point by throwing syllia’s legs around her shoulders and beginning to pound her, making the elf’s body jiggle with each thrust of her wide hips.

‘tell me about it,’ paulina moaned, coming down off the high of her orgasm. ‘god I wish we could use that oathword on her, really make her scream. she’s a bit… pathetic now. no life in her at all.’

she slapped the elf in the face, hard. ‘are you in there, you worthless piece of shit?’ paulina said, staring at syllia’s dead eyes. she backhanded her. ‘say something, you little rape doll!’

‘she hasn’t said a word in five years, says cook,’ moaned beth, gripping syllia’s tits and beginning to pump in earnest. ‘completely gone in the head. still tight as a button down here though…’

‘god sometimes I wish i’d been born with a cock,’ sighed paulina as she pinched syllia’s nose and mouth shut just to hear the elf gasp for breath. ‘that looks so fun.’

‘I did bring my little toy…’ beth grinned, nodding to the bag she’d brought with her. ‘you want a piece of this elf arse? I hear if you fuck them in the bum your cock doesn’t stop tingling for a week.’

the naked paulina scrambled to the bag, pulling out the leather harness and the stiff wooden shaft. ‘ooh don’t mind if I do…’

before long the two girls had levered syllia’s limp form between them, moaning as they raped her frail little body, their naked bottoms on the cold stone as they worked their hips, pumping their shafts into her arse and cunt.

‘gods I can feel it rubbing on my clit,’ moaned paulina as she gripped onto syllia’s collar for balance, the warm metal sending a pleasant sussuration of sensation down her arm. ‘what is this thing anyway? some kind of harness?’

‘paulina please shut up,’ beth moaned. ‘i’m really close…’

‘here let me help you…’ grinned the girl as she reached between syllia’s legs and began to stroke beth’s cock with one hand, listening to her partner groan at the added sensation.

‘oh fuck, oh yesss,’ beth hissed, her thick hips pounding at syllia’s thin body as paulina masturbated her. ‘oh pauli, just like that, yes, you know how I like it…’

‘you mean raping elf meat?’ paulina teased, pulling hard at the collar, making it bite into syllia’s neck. she could see the metal bruising the elf’s pale skin so she pulled even harder, her loins twitching at the choking noises the elf made. ‘god I wish I could afford one of these knife-eared sluts… I’d really show her the meaning of pain…’

‘maybe a more alive one,’ laughed bethany, still thrusting hard. ‘still, it’s really fun to… ahh… fuck an… unconscious… little… elf girl… oh! oh!! oh pauli! i’m cumming!! don’t stop pauli don’t stop!’

bethany arched her back in ecstacy, her huge tits bouncing as she came deep into syllia’s cunt, spurting jet after jet of her lady seed into the elf’s pussy, moaning low in her throat as her tiny partner came too, ramming her thin hips against scylla’s ass, howling as she orgasmed. in the height of her pleasure, beth stumbled backwards, almost falling, and she reached out to steady herself.

the first thing her hand grabbed was the metal collar, already straining beneath paulina’s grip. as bethany gripped the warm metal, there was a brief burst of light before the metal snapped in two.

two thousand, seven hundred, and eighty three days without hope.

the sound of the rune collar breaking was like the sound of the first ice cracking in spring. the breath she had been using to keep her sanity afloat for the better part of the last decade rose in her as the warm thing broke from her throat, and syllia rose, rose, rose…

the human girl with her cock inside her looked, wide eyed, as syllia’s eyes focused for the first time in years, and her elfin face twisted into a snarl.

‘OH GODS!’ was the last thing bethany ever said, fear clouding her eyes as syllia blew her head off her neck with a single starburst of magic, the room splattering in shards of bone, brains, and hair. a gray eyeball landed on paulina’s face, the girl screaming as she realized what was happening. she tried to pull her wooden cock out of syllia’s ass and get to her feet, but the elf reached behind her and grabbed paulina’s face.

any attempt to beg was burned from the poor girl as syllia set her upper half on fire, making her scream and writhe as her thin body was consumed by dark flames, her breasts spitting and cooking off her body, her eyes popping and flowing down her face before boiling off. in seconds she was dead, collapsing to the ground, and syllia herself fell to the cold stone, her muscles weak from years of atrophy. she had been underfed – her skin clung to her ribs, her hair was stringy, falling out in clumps where her rapists had pulled at it. no. this would not do.

a brief surge of light. renewal. flesh filled out syllia’s body, restoring it to a glory it had not seen in centuries. her eyes were full and bright, her muscles taut with purpose. she was still naked, but she did not care. the lock posed no problem as she stepped out into the house, seeking her lifetime of vengeance.
—
elira had been half-dozing in the candlelight, a copy of her tactics textbook falling onto her chest when she heard the crash from downstairs. At first she ignored it – maids dropped plates all the time, but then there was a loud thump, a bang

and screaming.

the rapier was in her hand before she knew it, elira’s heart thumping as she made for the door. her first thought was thieves, perhaps having tried to come in through the kitchen (assassins, thought a darker part of her brain, making her heart catch in her throat). she knew her mother had enemies, but she never dreamed-

a loud flash of light from the staircase and a woman’s scream – followed by a huge splatter of blood and entrails as someone’s innards were splashed across the upstairs wall from 20 feet below.

elira put her hand over her mouth to stifle her scream. this was… this was…

before she could gather her thoughts, a loud commanding voice. ‘no!’ shouted josephino. ‘I will not let you pass!’

elira as she ran to the staircase. looking down, her heart pounding, she saw the head butleress, still impeccably dressed in her blue uniform, blocking the staircase with her arms outstretched. hunched over in front of her, half a serving maid’s body at her feet, stood… oh… oh no…

syllia was covered head to toe in blood, none of it hers, a feral glint in her silver eyes. her left hand was outstretched towards josephino, but she wasn’t casting, she was talking…

‘-of my way human,’ said syllia. elira had never heard her voice before; it was silky, musical, like she was being sung to, but the overtones were harsh, guttural. ‘I will not ask again.’

‘never,’ breathed jo. ‘I will defend lady elira to my dying breath.’

‘as you will,’ said syllia, scything jo in half with a wave of her wrist. the woman separated at the waist, her upper half blown backwards onto the stairs with an ‘oof’ as the wind was knocked from her. elira could not stop the scream that came from her – she clamped her hand over her mouth as syllia looked up…

elira had no idea how syllia moved that fast, but just as she had withdrawn from looking down the staircase, syllia was upon her. elira screamed, her rapier shivering in her hand, tip pointed at the carpet as she tried to back up into the banisters.

up close, elira reazlied that elves moved nothing like humans. humans twitched and jerked, sputtered and started, but syllia flowed, like poured water, or spilling silk. kneeling in a catlike crouch, syllia tipped her head at elira like she was a mouse she was about to gut, the brand on her forehead glowing gently beneath her silvery hair. for a moment, the two looked at each other, not moving, not breathing.

‘run tiny human,’ whispered syllia finally, after several moments. ‘before I change my mind.’

and with that syllia was gone, flashing like a shadow in candlelight.

the first thing elira did was run down the stairs towards the dying jo, who was still somehow drawing breath – her guts sliding down the staircase in a cascade towards her blood-soaked legs. ‘my lady,’ she whispered. ‘you must… run… now…’

‘she’s not after me, she let me go,’ elira babbled, holding the dying woman’s face. ‘jo, i’m so sorry, I wasn’t there, I…’

‘no, child,’ jo shook her head, gently touching elira’s hand. ‘I… she lived in this house for as long as I’ve been head of it… and yet I did nothing to free her… this is the god’s justice. I… I accept it…’

‘jo, no…’ elira wept, touching every part of jo’s face that she could reach. ‘please jo. I need you. please.’

‘leave the city, elira,’ jo said, speaking her name for the first time. ‘run. get away from your mother. and remember… always remember… I love you…’

josephino died, her last breath slipping from her like a sigh. tears swelled in elira’s face as her heart felt like it was about to tear in half. no one had ever told her she loved her, not in all her years…

her mother. the scream from upstairs. the sound of exploding wood.

elira, choked by sobs, stood up, and raised her rapier. no. she was not going to lose the only other people who actually cared for her. she was going to run that knife-eared bitch through, just like she should have done upstairs…

elira was halfway down the hall when the explosion ripped through the house. witnessess from seven different cities later said they saw the light emanating from the princess’s mansion, like the dying embers of a newborn star.

next chapter: elira gets her revenge.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/f9c53w/the_subjugation_of_the_disgusting_elven_race_by