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The Ordeal

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The first night was by far the worst.

Naked, broken, and chained to the wooden pillar on the cold dirt floor, Alsante and her brother huddled together for warmth in the cool night air. She sobbed quietly into Delvin’s chest for most of the night as cold semen dried on her legs and cunt. There was no privy, no chamberpot in sight, and they were forced to hold themselves in rather than soil their own small plot of ground. Between the cold, the pain, and the increasing pressure in her bladder, Alsante could not focus her thoughts, could not concentrate on her nightly meditation, and the cold, dreary hours passed slower than any she had ever felt before.

In the morning, once light had begun seeping under the flap of the tent, Erlish returned. He looked at the miserable elves and grunted, but didn’t say a word to them.

He quickly and efficiently unlatched Alsante from the pillar first, dragging her painfully to her feet. Delvin stirred, but he was too weak and tired to protest. Now that she was standing, Alsante’s muscles cramped and rebelled, but Erlish’s grip was strong and he half dragged, half led her to the tent door, pulling her outside for her first view of the Orcish camp.

The early morning camp was bustling with activity and after a night in the dank tent the bright morning sun stung her eyes. All around her were beige and grey tents and pavillions for as far as she could see, and between them orcs of all sizes, shapes and colors were engaged in a variety of activities. A small squad of pikemen was training to her right, sparring against each other with purposely dulled steel halberds. To her left, a group of off-duty orcs were throwing dice and laughing. They looked up as Erlish led Alsante past their wooden table.

“Ha!” one of them exclaimed upon seeing the state of the prisoner, “Looks like that elf-whore had a pretty good night.”

“I wouldn’t mind showing her my idea of a good time,” another of the orcs replied.

“Meh,” a third added, “She’d snap in half before I could even get my cock all the way inside her. Give me a good, stout dwarf woman any day. They can take a pounding.”

The others laughed, but Erlish continued on without paying them any heed, and Alsante was quickly out of range of their conversation, although orcs continued to stare and leer at her as they walked. She could feel lecherous eyes on her body constantly, and she decided she knew now how a deer must feel when cornered by a pack of wolves.

Throughout the walk she saw no sign of Kivan, although she occasionally caught glimpses of other slaves of various humanoid races, always with their heads bowed, always stark naked and led on a chain by an orc.

Finally, they arrived at a small wooden privy, primitive, but relatively clean, into which Erlish shoved her. He did not close the door, however, and he watched her carefully as she squatted over the hole to do her business. At one point during the ordeal a nearby orc with a particularly good view let out a whistle, causing Alsante’s cheeks to turn bright crimson, but it was soon over and at least the painful pressure in her guts was now gone.

After that he took her to a nearby raised wooden platform, where a bucket of soapy water was waiting.

“Get yourself cleaned up,” he said gruffly. He seemed to be in a less jovial mood than the previous day, and from the way he was squinting and shielding his eyes from the sun, Alsante guessed that he was on the wrong end of a nasty hangover. She quickly decided she did not want to anger him this morning, so she picked up a nearby sponge without comment and soaked it in water before quickly and efficiently beginning to wash herself.

Her head was still sore from where she’d been hit repeatedly, and her jaw was tender to the touch as she scrubbed her face. The aching pain there was nothing, however, compared to the searing heat she felt when she began washing tenderly between her abused legs. She inhaled sharply as the cold water stung her torn and broken cunt. It took several rinses before she was clean enough for Erlish, but she managed somehow to suffer through it in silence, despite the pain and her shame at bathing in front of hundreds of hideous orcs who felt no need to disguise their lust and disgust for her.

Finally, he handed her a rough linen towel to dry herself on and led her back to the tent, where he relocked her and took Delvin out of the tent by his lead, presumably to suffer the same indignities.

As she lay on the floor, Alsante found a small rip in the canvas of the tent, and she peered out through it, enlarging it slightly with her fingers to give her a somewhat limited view of one side of the camp. Still, it was better than the complete isolation. She watched desperately for any sign of Kivan, or any other elves, but none came.

By the time Erlish returned with a now-clean Delvin, he seemed to be in a somewhat better mood. After resecuring them he brought them a small tray with bread and water and a thick porridge, which Alsante looked at wearily, finding she had little appetite.

“Eat.” Erlish said, watching her from across the tent, “You’ll need your strength. I don’t want you passing out during your training. You might not learn the lesson and I’d be forced to repeat it.”

Alsante’s heart sank, but she nodded and forced herself to swallow a mouthful of porridge, which tasted of oats and honey, and was surprisingly edible. As she ate she found she was amazed at how quickly Erlish had managed to get her to follow orders without complaint.

The rest of the day was spent in painful reenactment of the previous evening. Erlish ensured that both elves got their chance to pleasure him in multiple ways as he gave them advice on how to give better pleasure, how to avoid pain, and how to survive in their new lives. He instructed them to keep their heads down, to not speak unless spoken to, and how to address their owners and others.

That evening, after another bath they were given blankets. Although they were still forced to sleep on the ground, Alsante found herself grateful for the relative warmth that the thick wool provided, and she managed at least a few short hours of meditation.

The next day passed much the same, and the day after that. On the fourth day they were allowed to spend the night on the straw-stuffed bed inside the tent, although their chains were still locked securely to the bed frame. As the days passed, Alsante found that the pain of each violation was less than it had been. Gradually she grew accustomed to the feel of Erlish’s thrusting cock, of his hot seed spurting inside of her. Although she could not fit him all the way into her mouth still, she could swallow significantly more of him each time. Even when he turned her over on the third day and took her last virgin hole away from her, the pain of it was not as bad as she had feared, although she still had to sleep on her stomach that night.

At night on the sixth day, as they lay on the lumpy mattress where they had both been recently violated, Delvin put his arm around his sister and drew her closer to him. Alsante rested against his chest, huddling close for warmth in the cool night air.

“Alsante...” he said to her softly, his hand running through her hair, “We... we need to talk.”

Alsante did not respond, did not even look at him.

“This place... these things we have to do... it’s...”

“No.” she said, her voice quiet but firm. Delvin’s hand stopped in mid-stroke of her hair.

“No... Not now. I can’t do this now. I’m sorry.”

After a moment of silence, Delvin nodded and resumed his caresses.

“Just hold me. Please.” Alsante said, closing her eyes. Delvin obeyed, gripping her tightly against him as she rested.

On the seventh day, things changed.

When Erlish arrived at their tent that morning, Alsante could tell that something was wrong. She had become strangely attuned to the energies and emotions of her rapist over the last week, despite herself.

He scowled as he advanced on the elves, unlocking Alsante quickly.

“Let’s go,” he growled, yanking her to her feet.

“What...” she began to ask, but was cut off as he jerked her out the door of the tent.

He half-dragged her to a part of the camp she hadn’t seen before - until now all she had known was her tent and the lavatory area. They stopped in front of large tent that looked no different than any of the others. When Erlish tossed open the flap, Alsante saw that the inside was scattered with various devices made of wood and metal, some of which looked menacing, and others of which she could only guess at the function of. Near the doorway stood a tall, slender tiefling woman, her bright red skin muted by the dim light of the tent’s lanterns. She was totally naked, and Alsante could see from her chains and collar that she was a slave, like herself. Her large breasts heaved as she breathed, and the trim black hair of her pubic mound stood out against her flame-red skin. Her right nipple was pierced through with a silver ring, from which a small silver charm was suspended.

Erlish snorted when he saw her.

“I don’t like this,” he said, “She’s not ready for this yet.”

“She’s ready when the general says she is,” the tiefling replied without emotion, “You don’t have to like it.”

Erlish reached out a meaty hand and slapped her, sending her stumbling. She growled and looked back up at him with sharp teeth bared.

“Careful, Marshal...” she spat, “You wouldn’t want the general to hear you’ve been damaging his property, would you.”

Erlish snarled but lowered his hand.

“One of these days, demon-bitch, you’re going to overreach yourself, and I’m going to personally see your head on a pike for it.”

Erlish stayed for another moment, staring down the tiefling, before turning and storming out of the tent. For a few moments she stared after him, breathing heavily.

Alsante watched her from behind, staring in awe at what had just happened.

“Gods...” she said, “You... you got rid of him. I... I’m Alsante. I’m from the wood-elf tribe near here. Are you a slave too? What’s your name?”

The tiefling simply stared at the door, not acknowledging the elf’s presence.

“Look... I came here with someone... my husband. I haven’t seen him since...”

She reached out to put her hand lightly on the other woman’s shoulder, but before she could even touch her, the tielfing spun around, sending her open hand slamming into the side of Alsante’s face. The elf collapsed onto her knees on the floor, clutching her cheek.

“Shut the fuck up, whore!” the tiefling yelled. She advanced on the elf, and before Alsante could even think, the tielfing’s foot crashed into her stomach, knocking the breath from her lungs.

“You don’t have a name anymore. None of us do. No one gives a shit who you are or where you’re from. You answer to ‘slave’, or ‘bitch’, or more likely ‘whore’. Do you understand me?”

Alsante struggled through the pain in her belly, but managed a weak nod at the tiefling. Her mind was reeling. How could this woman... another slave... how could she be so cruel?


The woman reached down and grabbed hold of Alsante’s collar, pulling her up to her knees while the elf caught her breath.

“So,” she said mockingly, “You’re the hot little piece of elven fuck-meat that Erlish has been talking about, huh? You look like a skinny little waste of time to me.

“Erlish has been training you on the basics. Consider this the advanced class. Sometimes the general likes his female slaves to put on - let’s call them ‘shows’ - for his entertainment. My job is to get you ready to perform.”

She shoved Alsante to her feet and pulled her to a wooden contraption, two crossbeams shaped like an ‘X’, with metal hooks on the ends of each leg and arm. Alsante struggled against her briefly, but the tiefling grabbed her by the throat, her sharp fingernails digging into Alsante’s tender, pale skin. Her yellow cat eyes glinted as she glared at the helpless elf.

“Don’t even think about it. I will slice you open without a second thought.”

Alsante trembled, but forced herself to relax, allowing the demon woman to attached each of her wrist and ankle cuffs securely to the appropriate hooks. Alsante was now spread eagle, facing her tormentor, her body on perfect display.

The tiefling sighed disappointedly and grabbed one of Alsante’s small breasts, her claws scraping along the delicate flesh.

“You call these tits?” she asked with a scoff, “There’s barely any meat on you. Pathetic.”

“Well...” she said, turning to a nearby table, “They may still be good for something at least.”

She picked up two small metal clamps with sharp teeth, connected by a thin chain. Alsante felt the breath catch in her throat as she realized the woman’s intent.

The tiefling’s nimble fingers opened the first clamp easily, her mouth twisting into a perverse smile as she moved it closer and closer to the elf’s hard nipple.

“I won’t lie, this is gonna hurt like hell. But if you’re half the slut you look like you are, you’re going to enjoy it anyway.”

Alsante whimpered, her eyes silently begging the woman to spare her, but the tielfling simply grinned and released the clamp, letting the sharp teeth of it snap down on the tender bud of her breast.

Alsante fought hard not to scream as the clamp bit into the sensitive skin, and instead she groaned in pain, twisting her body hopelessly around to try to dislodge it.

The other woman’s smile only widened at the elf’s distress and she slowly slid the sharp teeth of the second clamp along Alsante’s stomach and over the curve of her breasts as Alsante’s body grew accustomed to the pain radiating out from her nipple.

“Nuh... nuh... oh... fuck...” she managed to mutter as the pain slowly subsided to a dull aching.

“Well...” the tielfing mused, “I can definitely see what Erlish sees in you. You make the cutest little noises.”

She moved the second clamp to her other nipple and teased the tip of it playfully.

“No... no, please... I... Ahhhh!” she screamed hoarsely as the second clamp snapped into place. The pain was even worse the second time, now that she knew what to expect, and she couldn’t suppress her cries of agony.

“Mmmmm... that’s what I like to hear,” the tiefling chuckled, using her finger to wipe up a thin trickle of blood that was falling from Alsante’s clamped nipple. She casually brought the finger to her mouth and licked it sensually, running her tongue around it and drawing it into her mouth as Alsante watched through tear-stained eyes.

“Not bad,” she said with a nod, “But I think we can do better.”

She reached out and quickly yanked on the thin chain, jerking the clamps on Alsante’s nipples, which wracked her with further pain. She screamed out in primal terror, fearing the woman would tear the tiny nubs from her breasts.

“There we go,” the tiefling said with a smile, “That’s what I like to see. The more you scream the better it is for the audience.”

She turned her back to Alsante, sorting through the various implements laid out on the table, eventually picking up a simple thin rod, about two feet long and made of some light metal. She turned back to her elven plaything and lightly ran her sharp fingernails around Alsante’s collarbone, tracing slowly down between her breasts leaving faint white trails on her skin. When her fingers came to the thin chain, Alsante inhaled sharply, expecting another sharp tug, but the tiefling’s fingers skipped dexterously over it and continued their way downwards, sliding over her stomach and the top of her groin.

Alsante’s breath quickened. The tiefling smiled. Her fingers slid slightly lower, tantalizingly close to the lips of her sex. The elf trembled, only half in fear. Despite the protests of her conscious mind, her inner being was responding to the situation as it had been trained, and she was already wet with desire. She knew the woman could feel her juices dripping as her fingers moved down to her upper inner thigh, deftly bypassing her most sensitive areas.

“Soooo wet... You’re loving this, aren’t you?” her captor teased, “You really are a little slut.”

The tiefling smiled. She flicked her wrist lightly and smacked the thin metal rod across Alsante’s bare thigh, laughing at her tiny yelp of pain. Even that slight sting left a bright red mark on her skin.

“Unfortunately, when you’re on stage being wet doesn’t mean a whole lot. You’ve been much too quiet. You need to learn to vocalize. The general likes to hear his little pets begging.”

She pulled her arm back and smacked Alsante again, much harder this time. Alsante screamed in pain as the rod left a raised, red welt across her stomach.

“Beg me,” the tiefling said, her eyes levelled at Alsante.

The elf looked up, her eyes clouded and her mind dazed with pain and adrenaline.

“I... ” she started.

The rod fell again, this time on her left breast. The pain was unbelievable, radiating out from her tender flesh like a wildfire as she writhed and cried.

“Beg me to touch you, cunt.”

She pressed the metal dowel lightly against Alsante’s skin and moved it lower, resting it lightly over the pink lips of her sex, making her squirm in fear.

Tears fell freely down Alsante’s cheeks as she sobbed and tried to breath. Her mind reeled from the pain, but beneath that there was something else stirring. Her mind had been abused and warped so much over the last week that her body was beginning to associate pain with pleasure, and she could feel her inner hungers awakening. Even still, she found herself unable to let go, unable to truly surrender.

“Please...” she muttered between sobs.

The tiefling pulled the rod back and held it poised.

“Please what?”

“Please... touch me. Please...” she said, desperately, her eyes fixed on the metal rod.

The tiefling smiled, but a moment later Alsante felt a burning sting unlike anything she’d ever experienced as the rod snapped against her soft cunt lips. She screamed hoarsely and her knees buckled, all of her weight falling on her manacled wrists.

The tiefling leaned forward, pressing her body against Alsante’s limp form, her lips barely touching her ear.

“That wasn’t very convincing...” she whispered. As Alsante slowly regained her breath the tiefling pulled back, waving the metal rod lazily in front of her face.

“Again. Tell me what you want.”

Alsante looked up at the woman, her eyes pleading as she let go of the last shred of dignity she had left. A floodgate opened in her mind, and her desire sprang forth, controlling her words and her body.

“Please... oh gods, please touch me. Use me... use my body... I want to be your little whore... I want it so badly. I want you to fuck me...”

As she spoke breathlessly her lip quivered and her eyes locked with the tiefling’s amused gaze. When she had finished begging, the woman stepped forward again, pressing her firm breasts against Alsante’s chest and leaning in to softly caress the elf’s cheek with her lips. Alsante could feel the coolness of her silver nipple ring pressing against her own breast. The tiefling's hands slid down her sides and gripped Alsante’s ass, pulling her hips forward.

“That’s much better. That’s more like what a good little whore would say,” she whispered. As she did, Alsante felt something warm and soft slithering up the inside of her thigh. It slid higher, sending shudders up her spine as it caressed the painful welts and tender areas of her legs before reaching her wet cunt.

“And just like bad little whores get punished, good ones get rewarded.”

As it pushed inside of her, Alsante realized it was the tiefling’s snake-like tail that was penetrating her, sliding against the sensitive flesh inside of her. She moaned as the tip of it flicked back and forth inside of her cunt and the tiefling leaned forward, muffling her moises with a kiss. She forced her tongue into the elf’s mouth as her hands roamed over her backside.

The tiefling’s spirit energy was unlike any she’d ever felt, hot and burning with passion, but streaked with hate and malice and envy. Ugly black scars marred the fiery red of her natural energy, as though she had been ripped apart from the inside and stitched back together by clumsy, untrained hands.

Alsante whimpered slightly as the tail continued to fill her pusy, each inch thicker around than the last. The final few inches were wider even than Erlish’s thick cock, and it stretched her lower lips obscenely around its girth. Finally the tip of it tickled against her cervix and began to withdraw slightly and Alsante opened her eyes, looking down between their entwined bodies to see the tail sliding back and forth inside her, fucking her slowly. She could feel it caressing her insides, squirming like a living thing inside of her as it pulled her closer and closer to release.

“Does that feel good?” the tiefling asked her with a chuckle.

“Yes...” she moaned in reply, and she was disgusted by the fact that it was true, “Gods, yes...”

The tiefling slapped her sharply on the face, but Alsante knew it was only a warning slap from the glint in her eyes. It didn’t hurt, so much as capture her attention for instruction.

“Yes, Ma’am.” she purred.

“I’m sorry... yes, Ma’am. It... it feels so good fucking me.”

“Do you want me to make you come, whore?”

Alsante whimpered.

“Please, Ma’am! Please make me come!”

The tiefling’s tail sped up inside her, fucking her violently, causing her body to bounce with the force of its thrusts. Alsante whined and cried, humping her hips back against it with each stroke. She felt the familiar feeling of an orgasm building in the pit of her stomach and beginning to spread through her body.

Suddenly, the tail withdrew from her cunt completely in one stroke, leaving her poised precariously on the brink of an explosive high. As the feeling began to fade, Alsante’s gasped and her hips reflectively thrust out, trying to find something to fill the gaping emptiness inside of her. She tugged desperately at her restraints, needing something to fill the void.

“Fuck... Oh gods, please! I need to come!” she whined, but the tiefling simply laughed at her, stepping back and watching her sad desperation.

Within a few moments the feeling had completely faded, leaving Alsante feeling exhausted, empty, and desperately unfulfilled. Her torturer finally stopped laughing and grinned at her.

“This isn’t about your needs, fuck-toy. You’re nothing but a piece of meat now. If you ever get to come, it’s because your master says you do. And right now, I don’t think you’ve been good enough.”

“Please...” Alsante whispered, her eyes pleading.

Once more, the thin metal rod whizzed through the air, slashing across Alsante’s stomach, crisscrossing her earlier mark. The elf howled in pain and slumped against the wooden frame, defeated.

“Pathetic little whore...” the tiefling muttered as she walked out of sight, returning a moment later with what looked to be a thin leather whip, barely two feet long from handle to tip, as well as a short length of rope.

The tiefling efficiently unhooked the elf from the wooden crossbeams and Alsante collapsed to the floor on her hands and knees. Before she could even catch a breath, however, she felt herself being yanked up to a kneeling position by her collar. Her glazed eyes stared upward at her mistress. Her tangled yellow hair fell haphazardly around her face and shoulders.

With expert finesse, the tiefling quickly grabbed Alsante’s hands and bound them behind her back with the rope, snug enough that she would never be able to work them loose on her own. With perfect coordination she reached down to her slave and quickly unsnapped the claw-toothed clamps from both her breasts at once. The aching pain that had all but receded from Alsante’s breasts returned one hundred fold as blood rushed back into her abused nipples. It felt as though her entire chest was a raging inferno of pain. It was a short while before the pain subsided enough that the tiefling could yank her back up to a kneeling position.

She then stood in front of her elven slave, her quim only inches from Alsante’s face. The elf could see the tiefling’s puffy red pussy lips glistening with moisture underneath the trimmed ebony hair.

“Right at this moment you exist for only one reason. To please me.”

The woman’s fingernails traced the line of Alsante’s strong jaw, caressing her face almost tenderly.

“All your screaming and begging put me in quite a state. Maybe if you do a good enough job pleasing me I’ll consider letting you come, too.”

Alsante nodded, half-deliriously, but as she looked at the woman’s dripping cunt she hesitated momentarily. Never in her life had she been this close to another woman’s sex. She had heard of females who took pleasure from other females, but she had never had such desires, never even considered them. Surprisingly, she felt almost no disgust at the idea. Her mind had given up on such conventional revulsions.

As Alsante moved closer, the tiefling’s hand moved in a blur and a loud crack from behind Alsante startled her. The pain of the lash’s stroke on her ass took a few moments before it registered in her brain, and when it did she groaned loudly and doubled over, wondering if the sharp agony meant her skin had been broken.

“Lick, you stupid whore.” the tiefling hissed.

Quickly Alsante raised herself up again, eagerly pressing her face into her mistress’ snatch. The scent was exotic, but not overwhelming, like a mixture of saltwater and brimstone, and she thrust her tongue roughly forward, panicked by the sting of the lash and hoping that she was doing it correctly.

The tiefling laughed and cracked the whip again, landing another needle-sharp blow. Alsante yelped and grimaced, but kept licking.

“You eat pussy like a fucking amateur,” she said as she pushed her hips against Alsante’s face, “Lick slower. More delicately. Use that little elven tongue. Save that eagerness for in a few minutes.”

Alsante struggled to obey, backing off slightly and caressing the other woman’s cunt delicately with her tongue. She ran it in long strokes along her slit, occasionally dipping it into her pussy.

“Mmmmm... better,” the tiefling purred, “But still pretty pathetic. You’ll need to get a lot more skilled at this before I’m done with you.”

She cracked the whip again and Alsante choked back a scream by burying her mouth in the woman’s cunt. She felt a drop of blood trickle down her thigh from where the lash had landed. She decided to try a new tact and shifted her attention upward, taking the woman’s clit between her lips and sucking on it lightly.

“Shit...” the tiefling muttered, “Yeah... just like that...”

For a long time they continued in that manner, the tiefling correcting each of Alsante’s failures with a sharp crack of her whip and rewarding each small improvement with a moan or grunt. Finally, the tiefling whimpered slightly and thrust her hips forward.

“Fuck... now bitch. Lick hard! Lick like the fucking dog you are!”

Alsante whimpered back, her jaw aching. She obeyed the command and pushed herself harder, licking and sucking as fast and hard as she could. A few moments later she felt the tiefling’s hand on the back of her head and a flood of warm, slightly salty liquid in her mouth. The tiefling groaned loudly and yanked her backwards by her hair, sending her sprawling on the ground on her side, her face covered with the woman’s come. With her arms still bound behind her, she couldn’t manage to right herself.

“Not bad for your first time,” her mistress said when her breathing returned to normal.

Now that Alsante was free from her assigned task, she felt the fiery need burning between her legs stronger than ever.

“Please...” she whimpered from the floor, “Please... I need to come...”

The tiefling woman laughed and tossed the whip down on one of the tables casually.

“Stupid cunt,” she chuckled, “I told you this isn’t about what you need.”

Alsante looked up at her, on the verge of tears.

“But...” she started, but quickly realized that protesting would only make things worse.

“Get your big brother to help you out,” she said with a mocking laugh, “I’m sure he’s been dying to get his cock into that little cunt of yours. Don’t tell me you’ve never considered it.”

Alsante said nothing, but felt tears start to roll down her face. The tiefling threw open the tent flap that served as a door before turning back to the helpless elf.

“Oh, and just so you know, I’d be careful about asking people what happened to your husband. Someone might just tell you.”

Without another word she turned and walked out of the tent.

“Get the worthless cunt back to her tent,” she heard the woman say, “Don’t be too gentle.”

A moment later two hulking orc guards entered the tent and lifted her limp body from the ground.


“Dear gods...” Delvin muttered as he wiped down the wounds on Alsante’s backside with a cool wet cloth. The two of them were chained to the bed again, but there was enough slack on his chain that he could reach the water bowl on the vanity.

“What in the nine hells did they do to you?”

Alsante lay on her stomach, staring out into space, her eyes hazy.

“She...” she whispered.


She pushed herself weakly onto her side.

“She did it to me.”

Delvin brushed back the hair from her face tenderly.

“Who?” Delvin asked cautiously.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Gently, Alsante reached out to put her hand on the firm muscles of her brother’s stomach. As he held her in his strong arms, her hand moved lower, and he gasped as it wrapped around his flaccid cock.

“Alsante...” he began, a note of alarm in his voice. Her emotionless eyes locked with his and he fell silent.

Alsante felt the blood rushing into Delvin’s sex, felt it respond eagerly as she gently caressed it, just as she had been trained to do over and over again. Within moments he was fully hard and she pulled herself weakly to her hands and knees, pushing him gently onto his back as he stared at her in shock, his unbelieving eyes wide.

“Shhh...” she moaned, “It’s ok. It’s alright... I just need... I need you... inside me...”

“No... please...” he whispered, but his sister ignored him. She crawled on top of him and positioned her still-wet cunt directly over his shaft, felt the tip of it sliding along her slick cunt as she rocked her hips slowly, savoring the feeling.

This is all I am now, she thought to herself. This is what I’m for. This is my purpose. This is my fate. This is my salvation...

She pressed her hips down slowly, feeling the rounded head of her brother’s cock nudging up against her tight hole.

“No!” she heard him cry out.

Suddenly, she felt herself falling, tumbling, spinning in a confused spiral of numbness, and then she was looking up, staring at a dull beige sky, lights and sounds swirling around her in a chaotic cloud. And then Delvin was there, leaning over her, shaking her. She had fallen over... or else he had shoved her off. She couldn’t be sure. But the aching emptiness between her legs told her that she had not achieved her goal.

“Alsante!” he shouted, and slowly reality came back to her as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Gods... I need it...” she whispered between sobs, “I need you... I’m just... a whore... worthless...”

“No,” he replied desperately, holding her close to his chest, “Not like this. This isn’t you. It’s them. You can’t let them get to you. You have to fight this!”

“I can’t!” she cried out hysterically, her nails digging into his arm, “I can’t fight it anymore!”

“This isn’t us! This isn’t who you are!”

For a long moment they held each other as she sobbed until there was no strength left in her.

“I think...” she said finally, barely even able to move, “I think it is. I just... never knew.”

She looked up into his eyes, desperately begging him.

“Please...” she moaned, “I need you.”

He looked back at her, his own eyes swelling with tears.

“I can’t,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Alsante nodded slowly and with agonizing slowness, rolled onto her side, turning her back on her brother. Behind her, she heard him sigh and begin quietly sobbing.

Meanwhile, her hand crept slowly and painfully down her own body, seeking out her hard clit to give herself the pleasure that her brother had denied her. The only pleasure she still had left.