Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.
*****
Aelthalarion couldn't fathom before the battle started that it would end in his capture and that his entire existence was about to be irrevocably changed.
He awoke, groggy and vaguely nauseous, and uncertain of where he was. The sky was bright, too bright, causing him to close his eyes. He just needed a little bit more rest.
He opened his eyes again, shaking his head slightly, and slowly leaning up. The stars burned bright in the night sky, and the ground was illuminated by the pale moon light. His elf vision was more the capable of seeing in this dim light, so he looked into the distance. After a moment, he realized he still wasn't quite sure where he was. A wide green plain. Mountains he didn't quite recognize. A forest in the distance. Was he even still in the homeland?
Aelth lifted his hands to rub his face and suddenly noticed he was bound in manacles. The manacles
reeked
of corruption, and he realized they were inset with Profane distone. "What is this?" he demanded, before slowly turning on his butt.
As he turned around, he realized that there something even more horrifying than the corrupt manacles. A wererat. A corrupt creature bred from the vermin of the world. They came in many shapes and sizes, some far more horrifying even than the one before him.
This one look like it was roughly his height, maybe even slightly taller, with a very dark black fur, though he noticed white specks. Perhaps it was aging? He smirked. The lives of these creatures were miniscule compared to the lives of he and his elf brethren. It wasn't wearing heavy armor, as he knew some of these creatures did, but it instead wearing lightweight clothing and simple leathers.
He shook his manacles at the creature. "I demand you release me," he said simply, raising his chin as he did so. When he did that, he realized that a metal collar was around his neck as well. He couldn't see what was in it, but if more Profane distone was next to his throat, who knows what could happen.
The creature looked at him with glowing red eyes, tilting its head to the side.
"Immediately!" Aelth yelled.
The creature raised some kind of rod and pointed it at him.
"What-" he started to ask when a bolt of something hit him. His entire body spasmed in pain, holding it for several minutes, before he passed out.
Aelth woke, groggy, and still uncertain where he was. It seemed like it was still night, though the moon was in a different place. How long as he been out? He could hear water, and he groaned as he lifted himself. He realized he was completely disheveled, and filthy from head to toe. His armor was gone, as was his weapon, and he was still in these damn manacles. He had no idea what the Profane was doing to him, but he hoped to get out of them before he started growing more
eyes
.
He turned and sat up. They were in a different place. How had they moved without him knowing? There was no fire, the ratman was just standing, watching him. He noted that the ratman wasn't wearing leathers anymore, but just a simple cloth tunic. It didn't have pants or shoes, standing on clawed feet, and carrying in his clawed hands a rod. Well, he didn't want to get hit with that again, that was... very unpleasant.
The ratman's long fleshy tail swung behind him.
Aelth noticed that the legs, arms, and what part of the ratman's furred chest were visible under the tunic seemed to be covered in fairly taught muscles. He was starting to suspect maybe this creature just dragged him from place to place.
"What?" Aelth asked.
The ratman pointed at the water in the river.
"Release me first," Aelth responded, holding up his manacled hands.
The ratman pointed at him with the rod.
"Wait, wait," he said wincing.
The ratman pointed at the water.
"Okay," he said. He groaned as he stood, still very sore from the battle, the pain stick, and what he assumed must've been a beating that he couldn't remember. He took slow steps toward the water, trying to look around and get a better sense of his bearing. These ratmen prefer to go below ground, which he assumed he would be, except that they couldn't burrow beneath his homeland. But this river, these trees, he didn't recognize this place.
The ratman hissed at him.
He stopped and looked back at the creature. He knew they could speak, though he didn't know if it could speak the elf's tongue.
The ratman motioned with his rod, toward the elf's clothing.
Aelth sighed deeply. "Fine," he said, and began pulling off his pants. He removed his underwear as well. His boots were already missing, probably because they were armored, and he had nothing but his shirt at that point. He tried to figure out how to remove the shirt with the manacles on when he felt a clawed hand yank at it.
With a hideous sound his shirt was ripped from his body.
"That was
fine linen
, you
animal
," Aelth barked at the creature.
The ratman
laughed
. At least, that's what he assumed the repeated scratchy sound was. Aelth turned back to the river, and the ratman shoved him, causing him to trip as he fell into the water.
Thankfully this river was not very fast moving, and Aelth was soon able to get himself back on his feet and above water. He spit out the water, coughing, and trying to shout something at the ratman. He almost instantly began shivering from the cold water, but as he stood up the beast began slathering him in some kind of greasy, smelly substance.
"Unhand me!" he shouted, trying to twist away, but the ratman grabbed his collar, and yanked it low, causing him to bend over. As he did so, the ratman began rubbing the grease against his ass, and deep into the crack of his ass. "Stop it!" he tried to command. He suddenly realized he was dangerously close to the ratman's crotch and saw that the beast had no underwear on. His furred sheath and balls were quite a bit larger than Aelth would've expected, had he
ever