Bad Things Happening to Elves
WARNING:
This is a dark and unhappy story, a work of niche fantasy. I want there to be no misunderstanding upfront.
If that sounds like something you don't want to read,
please
don't read this story. I'm not out to shock or offend anyone. I'm just catering to my audience.
But if you're the type to get offended anyway, don't worry, everything's alright in the end. I follow the rules.
You have been warned.
*****
Prisoner of Lust
The human city was massive and crowded and loud, so much bigger and busier than she had ever imagined, and Leara was stunned. It was nothing like the elven village she'd grown up in deep in the forest, nor like any of the scant few neighboring villages that she'd ever visited. She could see now why her friends and family had warned her against coming here, told her to just stay at home and forget what they called her "foolish notion" to see more of the world. Truth be told, all the activity and towering buildings were every bit as intimidating as they'd made them out to be.
Still, she thought, she could get used to it. She'd traveled more than anyone else in her village already, after all, and been uneasy in most new places she'd ended up at first before the unease gave way to enjoyment. This would be no different, she reasoned. All she needed do was meet a few people, get in touch with the local culture, and all of her worries and fears would be forgotten.
It was in the market that she first felt like someone was watching her, and paused to look around. People jostled by her on all sides, many of them turning to look at her in curiosity or slight contempt. Her elven features made her stand out all the more and draw even more curious eyes — long, slender ears pointing out from her waist-length curtain of hair the color of honeyed wheat; large, slightly canted eyes colored a vibrant emerald green that contrasted with the dull brown of most of the area's humans; and a soft, angular face that tapered down from high cheeks to a small, slender chin. Her pale pink skin was flawless, and though her short dress and long stockings covered plenty of her body to retain her modesty, her outfit also hugged her every sumptuous curve and left little to the imagination.
Clutching her meager pack tight to her chest, Leara made her way through the flowing crowd out of the market and towards the less crowded streets beyond. Likely the feeling was just her getting used to city crowds, she reasoned. She had been to a couple of small human hamlets on the edge of the woodlands before, yes, but never a city this big before now, and she was not used to the amount of eyes constantly on her. It was only natural to feel as if she were being watched, because she was — but so far, nobody had seemed overly concerned beyond a brief curiosity, so she tried to ignore the feeling and not let it bother her.
She was still ignoring the feeling as she turned from a narrow side street into a gloomy alley between two large buildings. Her unease was intensifying, but she fought it down with a will, chiding herself for her needless anxiety. Nevertheless, the sun was going down, and she had lost track of where she was. She needed a moment out of the bustle to get her bearings, so she strode down to the center of the alley, furthest away from any passersby, before opening her satchel and pulling out her map.
No sooner had she stopped than she felt rough hands grab her from behind and shove her forward against the alley wall. Her startled cry came out as more of a short, high squeak as she dropped map and satchel both before being flattened against the building in front of her, and her mind remained frozen in sudden terror and confusion as she felt her assailant grab her dress and pull it up over the swell of her bottom. She tried to cry out again, but then she felt the full weight of a grown man's body press against her back, pinning her tight to the wall and momentarily knocking the air from her. As she gasped and struggled, the man took hold of her panties beneath her dress. With one hard yank, the soft, fragile fabric tore away in his grip. The next moment, she felt the head of his manhood press against her exposed slit, and then he forced himself roughly into her and pierced her deep.
She finally did cry out then, in pain and anguish. It was all happening so fast — one moment she had been just another lost visitor amid a sea of people going about their business, and now she was being brutally violated in a back alley by a rough stranger whose face she couldn't even see. He held her crushed against the wall, one hand firm against her head and pressing the side of her face against the hard stone, the other gripping her waist tight as he pounded into her from behind. Tears welled in her eyes as she struggled and screamed, the pain of her unmerciful rape exacerbated by her tight, inexperienced pussy. She had been pure up until that moment, and she had never in her darkest nightmares imagined that her maidenhood would finally be torn from her in such a brutal manner.
"Help!" she managed to cry as her assailant pounded her into the wall again and again, filling her so much that her body screamed in protest at every thrust. "Stop! Someone please help!"
That was as much as she was able to get out before a sudden slap across her face silenced her words and left her sobbing aloud with every crude pump of her attacker's hips. She tried to struggle against him, but under his weight and in her awkward position, she could do nothing but flail her hands against the wall. She tried to kick out at him, but the motion only spread her wider for his invading cock and made the pain that much worse, so she soon abandoned any hope of breaking away and instead hoped fervently for a sudden rescue.
"Hey, you!" a voice shouted suddenly from somewhere in the streets behind her. "Stop!"
The man raping her loosed a strangled groan of lust and irritation, pulling his throbbing shaft from her fully just as he finally came. Leara felt hot, thick liquid splash across her backside, and then the man's weight was off of her, his heavy footfalls fading frantically as he dashed off away from the accusing voice.
The elven woman slid to the cobbled street down the wall, disbelief, revulsion, and gratitude warring for dominance within her. Her assault was over as quickly as it had begun, and though she was still in shock and pain, she couldn't help a twinge of happiness that her silent, fervent wish had apparently gone answered.
The guardsman entered the alley mouth at a run, then slowed to a halt as he reached the woman. Leara lay curled over her knees on the ground, her hair and clothes disheveled, panting heavily. Her ravaged slit dripped slightly with the blood of her violently pierced hymen, and her rapist's seed oozed thickly down her bare bottom down to her thighs. She turned to look at the guard that had come to her rescue, eyes still wide, and managed a slight, wavering smile. "Thank you," she breathed in relief.
The guard's eyes scanned the scene, then fixed her with a stern look. "What's going on here, then?" he demanded.
It was a more brusque rescue than she would have liked, but she wasn't about to be picky. "I was...attacked," she explained, her voice slight and wavering. "R-raped. It happened so suddenly...I didn't see his face..." The more she spoke, the more the reality of the situation settled on her, and her brimming tears spilled over once more down her cheeks.
The guard folded his arms over his chest, fingers tapping slowly on his elbow as he looked hard at her for a silent moment. "Were you now?" he said at last, voice pitched strangely low. "A likely story. Alright, get up. You're coming with me."
"I...I am?" she asked quietly, brow furrowing. "Why are...where are we going?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped toward her and bent down, taking her by the hand. She let him pull her to her feet, standing unsteadily on still-shaky legs. Rather than release her, though, the guard stepped around behind her, still holding her wrist and grabbing the other one. "You're an elf, huh?" he said behind her as he reached down and pulled something from his belt. "Must be new in town, otherwise you'd know. Still, ignorance don't excuse nothing."
"What?" she asked, then felt the cold, tight press of metal as the guard clamped her wrists in shackles behind her back. "What?" she asked again, panic growing again. "Wait! What's going on?"
"Prostitution is illegal here, elf," the guard said, then put a hand between her shoulder blades and shoved. "Now move it."
Leara stumbled forward and fell to her knees, her mind uncomprehending for a moment. "But I..." she whispered as her building hope crashed back down and dashed once more.
The guard grabbed her arm and yanked her back up to her feet. "I said move it, whore," he said more menacingly, shoving her again.
She managed to stay on her feet this time, then whirled to face the guard, panic and confusion evident on her face. "But I'm not!" she cried, astounded that she even had to argue such an accusation so shortly after being clearly raped. "I wasn't! I told you, I was assaulted! I swear! I'm not a prostitute! I didn't want it!"
The guard took another step toward her, then smacked her across the face so hard she saw stars for a moment. "The more you fight the law, whore, the harder the law will be on you," he said coldly. "Now you can either walk with me to the station like a good elf, or I can gag you and shackle your ankles and drag you there through the streets. What's it gonna be?"
She stared up into his eyes for several long seconds, searching for any trace of pity, of mercy, hoping beyond reason that this was all just some twisted joke that would end soon. But she saw no warmth or tenderness in his eyes, and so cast her own down to the ground, where she saw drops of white cum and her own maiden's blood beneath her feet. "...Very well," she said quietly. "I'll go quietly. And I'll explain when we get there how this is all a terrible mistake."
