Legends of Belariath

Tor`Koss

“You worthless, disgusting, pathetic creature!!” She screamed at him, the whip slashing across his vulnerable back with every drow syllable, the impact echoing through the chamber and causing him to scream in agony, his body writhing against the ceiling restraints, forcibly knocked to the left and right from every brutal strike.

Of course, this was all part of her wishes, her games, and that made it more precious to him than anything else in any realm, be it in the Underdark, or the world above.

And she wound down after a half an hour or so, leaving his body raw and sore, his back a lattice work of red, angry marks, his legs nearly split from those heavy strokes. And he dangled there, panting, whimpering, begging for more, as was her wish.

All for her.

…Jabbress.

Through the haze of pain and the delirium of the agony he suffered, he felt her hand upon his chin, forcing his head to look down at her. Her cold red eyes, staring through him and transfixing him with the incredible power and majesty that it meant to be a Matron Mother of the House. Her hand was firm, but the caress was careful and measured, each and every pad of her fingers knowing exactly where to apply pressure to get the maximum results. And she insulted him, degraded him in the worst possible ways, calling him a useless, pathetic creature, a pain slut, a bag of flesh that wasn’t worthy of licking her boots, and how he needed her or else he would be nothing.

And she was right. She was always right. For she was the one that owned him, gave him purpose, allowed him to live and be something more than just some useless half-breed. And it was all signified by the collar around his neck, showing one and all that he was her property, her thing, her toy to use as she saw fit.

But this was something she so loved to do, to inflict that delicious pain upon his body, pushing his limits and the expanses of her own stamina, to go to their breaking points and teeter upon that dangerously intoxicating edge, a single extra whipping tearing him down, an additional crash of her wrist causing her to collapse to her knees. But it would never happen, for she was the most perfect being that walked in any realm of Belariath.

…Jabbress.

He felt her hand trailing over his battered chest, pinching his pierced nipples and tugging upon the golden hoops there. “To think, you survived four crossbow bolts to this feeble wall of muscle. Did you think a drowess Matron needed a slave to save her? Did you believe for a moment that your Jabbress needed your protection? Answer me, slug!”

All part of the perfect trap she created for him, for there was no right answer. He could not remain silent, for she demanded he speak, and that was to be obeyed. To say yes would imply that she was weak and needed someone other than her own awesome presence and power. To say no would state that he was not placing her life ahead of his, and that he was ignoring the assassin’s attempt to strike her down. Either choice meant punishment.

And he loved her for it. How could he not? She was so wise and powerful and clever, she was perfection made flesh and it was his honor to even be allowed to be alone in her chamber, to be allowed the honor to be her slave. Without her he was lost, far too stupid and clumsy to be of any use to the Drow that he had served for a century, since he was old and strong enough to walk on his own.

He spoke his answer of “Xas”, his voice still deep and strong, but quiet and nearly a whisper. His entire body ached with burning pain; the whip she had chosen today was one of her heavier ones, meant to administer blistering lashes. And through it all, his cock was stiff and hard, jutting from between his legs like an obsidian monument, its length and girth massive and throbbing, her hand occasionally stroking along it to further tease and torment him.

“Bah! Your Jabbress does not and will never need anything from you, unless it is your complete and utter obedience. Worthless dog, and look at you. This firm shaft, even when your body is aglow with crimson pain. You’re a brainless animal, and if it were not for me, death would be the only acceptable choice.”

She laid the whip aside, stroking him again, her body sliding up to his, his feet barely able to touch the floor with his hands tied and shackled securely over his head. He was massive and tall, nearly seven feet in height, with an incredibly sculpted, muscled body, honed from years of manual labor and torture. He easily dwarfed her barely five foot frame. But there was no doubt as to who was the more powerful here, her arm wrapping around him and holding him in a tight embrace, standing just to his side. His body screamed in pain as the raw flesh was rubbed and pressed against, and yet, his mind was singing in delight and bliss, for he was granted the joy of being allowed to touch she of the Divine Flesh, the perfect being: The Lady High One. A drowess. A female dark elf. And above all others, she the most precious of all… his Mistress, his owner, his reason for living…

Jabbress…

“I suppose you did manage to spare me the annoyance and bother of having to heal myself and kill that worthless jaluk myself. You are not truly worthy of a reward from me, but as always, little tor, you are so quick to act, even if your body moves with the speed of an elder human through the spider pits. Are you deserving of my generosity tor? Speak up now.”

And there it was, the only form of gratitude he would ever receive from her, and it nearly brought tears to his eyes. She was thanking him for his efforts, and they both knew it. The subtle praise hidden behind the walls of arrogant power, this was how they would always communicate, for she owed him no form of praise other than to conceal it through her pretty speeches. To answer, he simply said, “This one… is not worthy of anything… this one can only bask upon whatever Jabbress gives it. This one wishes nothing… to SERVE Jabbress is all it needs.”

The perfect answer, and she saw through it as well. He was not yet begging; that would come later. But he was saying ‘Yes, please, love me, stroke me, give me release, suck my hard cock, let me fuck you, please give me everything and more…’ and they both knew it. He was so incredibly simple, to be allowed to touch her, pleasure her, give her what her body craved was the greatest reward he could think of.

He had been trained well.

Her grip tightened around him, upon both his dangling body and his firm manhood. The dual sensations of pleasure and pain nearly caused him to climax right then and there, but he had been ready for her action and already performed the first physical block to his own orgasm: his bottom lip. For decades now he had self-taught himself to administer pain to certain parts of his body that were not erogenous zones, and focused upon the pure, one-sided agony to bring him down to a level that would disallow him from coming. The second was his palm, to dig his nails into either hand with such force that he could nearly draw blood... and sometimes did.

But she did not stroke him for long, instead working him to just the point where he needed to savagely tear at his own lip. She knew his methods, she knew everything about him. And she was pleased with him, pleased that he was always so eager and ready despite his well-scripted words. He had been such a good boy, and she was going to take the next hour or two to reward him now that she had taken her other pleasure from him. But for now, he was close, and she was not about to let him cum so easily, for she wanted to have this massive cock buried deep in her, letting it stretch and tear at her with its girth, to fill her and make her climax again and again as it gave her the same that she gave him: pleasure and pain.

To get his attention back to where it belonged, she barked out sharply, “Tor`Koss! Hmph, you base simpleton… do you think I will simply give you a reward with no effort on your part? Beg, you useless male slut. Beg your Jabbress to give you what you are nowhere near deserving.”

The whimpered requests began immediately, for to feel her hand upon his member, only to have her stop, was a greater torture than to have been whipped. “Please, please Jabbress.. this one begs jabbress, please please please stroke him, pump his filthy cock, let him find release, let Jabbress bring him to climax, though he has done nothing to be honored and privileged with it. Please Jabbress… please!”

She scowled and curled her lip at his mutterings, but inwardly she was laughing, knowing that he was so simple that just this basic, carnal contact was more than enough of a reward for him. If anyone was going to save her life, best it be her slave, one that needed nothing more than what she already gave him, lavished upon him as he had always served her so well.

She would be the last Mistress he served in the Underdark. Possibly ever.

…Jabbress.

“Such pitiful sounds, I suppose I had best get to this quick so that I will not have to have my ears filled with your simpering drivel…” And she resumed her touch, her fingers wrapped around his pulsating organ and stroking it firmly, her other hand sliding up his body to ravish his nipple, tugging the piercing and squeezing the lanced flesh. Her mouth kissed along the perfectly executed whip marks, her thick purple tongue tasting the sweat, muscle, and even the faintest scent of blood that rushed behind those angry marks. And as she did so, he began to moan in quiet pleasure, creating a thick, rumbling purring sound deep in his barrel chest, the most base sign that he was aroused and loving the attention she lavished upon him.

She gestured at one of the levers on her mechanism across the room, causing the chain to lower him just enough so that he was firmly planted upon the ground once more. This was both a reward and a punishment, for it signified to him that yes, indeed, she was going to fuck him, use his body as her meat-toy, use him to bring her to heightened pleasure. But it also meant that he had to remain standing upon his own power, and he was already exhausted from the day’s events. Which would win out in him… physical collapse, or the consummate slave that pushed aside all its own protests so that it could Serve?

There was only one way to find out, which was exactly what she was going to do.

She took his stiff shaft and gripped it firmly at the base, stepping around to his front and looking up at him. With a ‘hmph’ she lowered herself down, squatting down and running her tongue over the dark purple head of his cock. Hers was always a rough touch as she sunk her teeth lightly into the hyper-sensitive flesh, running her mouth back and forth so that she could leave small trails across organ, forcing blood to fill and exit it. She mused to herself as he began to pant and moan, all of this so easy, yet keeping him made her happy, for he truly was good at giving her pleasure. She recalled when she had first won him in a bet: heavily tattooed and pierced, with chains and studs jutting from almost every single conceivable portion of his form. While she did not disapprove, as always the next Jabbress wanted to have a clean slate of flesh from which to work upon. But despite all the owners he had had, the one thing that remained constant was his massively thick penis. A ‘gift’ from one of his first owners, she had literally torn open the rod of man-flesh to remake it to her own devices. He had never been what was considered small… but this particular drowess had always had a fondness for the larger creatures, such as minotaurs. And no other subsequent owner had ever complained, nor tried to change, his manhood.

And she delighted in how it forced her to stretch her mouth, to punish her jaw to a minor degree to be able to accommodate the entirety of his shaft, to know she would gag upon it when she tried to take it all, and it made her want all the more. Her teeth remained drawn so that they raked down his entire length, causing him to buck and squirm in place, and she knew without looking that he was already biting his lip to keep himself from the climax she had not yet allowed him. Her hand began to pump as well, to meet her lips and then yield, retreating back so that she could swallow more of him with loud, wet sounds that filled the private chamber she had locked them in. His panting moans were pathetic to her ears, just like males were all pathetic in her eyes; simple base creatures that needed only pleasure and flimsy tricks to be kept in line. It was rare to find one that was of any challenge at all. But she knew he never had such worries or concerns, for he was her slave, and was therefore immune to the posturing and politics of the drow world. All he had to do was make her happy, in exchange for surrendering himself completely. It was never a losing trade to him…

For countless minutes these exchanges were made, and as her mind was busy as always with what it meant to be a drow Matron she pulled her scant clothing off before him, letting her tight and small breasts come free, her toned and muscular body bare as the day she was born. As for Tor`Koss, his mind was concentrating upon not orgasming and therefore failing her. She stroked and sucked and pumped that beautiful organ with reckless abandon, keeping him just on the edge of one of his copious climaxes, knowing that when he came it would be hot and thick… and she wanted it to cover her. Drawing her mouth back and coughing lightly from having it impaling her throat, she growled at him, “Tor… you may release now… cover your Jabbress’ breasts and face with your filthy seed, and be quick about it.”

Her words were like a key that unlocked the dam that held back his thunderous climax, and it was as loud as it was long, his cock erupting sterile semen forth and she was right there to take it. Catching the thick cords in her mouth, she pumped him and removed her mouth from the head, letting a few spurts splash across her face and dribble down her chin before holding his still throbbing organ and aiming it at her chest, her hand working him in a near frenzy to milk every last drop from him. He barely managed to keep his eyes open to watch as the results of his holding back and her expert attentions covered her firm breasts, her arms pressed together to help it pool in her cleavage, a few droplets dripping off her nipples as she granted him a rare smile, but one that had the cold edge of cruelty to it.

As his bellowing pants wound down, she stroked his cheek and gripped one his long braids, giving it a small tug. “Always so hot and plentiful, my pitiful little slave. But your Mistress is hardly done with you… you have two minutes to make yourself hard once more, then lay upon your back and hold still.”

He nodded weakly, his legs already starting to sag from the exertion until she gestured at the mechanism across the room again, and the lever fell and the chain completely released him, causing him to collapse completely to his knees, his hands still bound at the wrists. But it was enough for him to reach down and continue stroking his still semi-hard shaft, milking the last few drops from it as he began to concentrate upon only one single activity: making himself firm and hard for his Jabbress.

And her eyes never left him while he did so, her time frame more than generous enough, for she knew it did not take him long after all these long months in her service. She stroked down his massive chest as he sat somewhat hunkered over, her teeth gripping the piercing in his nipple and tugging it to get him erect again, her body burning with lust and feeling impatient and wanting to get this over with. Despite the pleasure this would give, she had far more important things to do than play with her property.

But like the good little boy that he was, his shaft soon grew to its fullest, hardest length, the head of his cock swelling and engorged with blood to match the boiling pleasure he felt in his veins, the anticipation of what was soon to come.

No sooner was he hard once more that she placed her high-heeled boot upon his chest and pressed forward, letting the spike dig into his ribs slightly and easily knock him back. He lay there completely prone, his cock bobbing around as he stretched his hands above his head and waited, knowing that it was now his purpose to act as a living fuck toy for her. Sure enough, she straddled his waist, rubbing herself up and down, her spread legs pushing the dripping folds of her sex against his stomach and grinding against his hardness, his sculpted muscles. She reached behind her body and firmly grabbed his shaft, tugging it and pressing the pulsating head to her tight opening, knowing that this would hurt and savoring every last moment of it. She began to thrust her hips back, feeling the familiar swell of her vaginal muscles crying out in protest against the girth of this intruder and her not caring at all, wanting this monster within her. Tor himself simply hissed and grunted his approval; the rest of his body may as well have not been there at all, for the rest of him was inconsequential at this point. All she wanted to was to have this painfully blissful pleasure.

And she had it, quickly, for Tor had always been instructed to be rough with her, and his hips were not bound to the floor this time, giving him free reign to arch himself towards her, knowing that she was perfectly aligned to accept him. His tired, worn, and sore body labored and protested, but his efforts were enough to start driving himself inside her, feeling her stretch to take him in, her body begging for it without her voice needing to, her tongue licking her lips as she grunted harshly, snarling down at him as she continued to fight back against his forward movement, her hand idly tugging his nipple and then her own to give herself more pleasure than before.

And then the moment she had been waiting for… the one that she had prepared herself for, for he was pathetically easy for her to read. He had saved himself for a brief spark of activity, and suddenly and brutally smashed his hips forward, driving the rest of his long, hard cock into her completely, filling her to his hilt and causing her to cry out in a yelp of pain, a trail of saliva falling past her lips as she drooled from the sheer painful ecstasy it caused. Thus buried to his hilt, he held there, whimpering quietly as she started to rock her hips and move, taking him and sliding him in and out of her, yowling out with a voice full of lust and agony. His hands gripped against her hip, still bound as they were, so that she could focus primarily on her own movements, taking in his pulsating cock with unbridled fury, wanting it to completely batter her insides, her body having longed for this moment from the second he had intercepted the assassin’s attempt on her life.

She felt his clumsy, large hands pawing her slowly, his thick fingers finding her clit and pinching it slowly, then with a gradual rolling pressure, his other hand locked in place and only able to reach upwards and stroke her belly. She began to raise and slam her pelvis down upon him, driving that wonderfully engorged cock deeply into her, her head starting to see small stars as she allowed herself the freedom of not having to bother outwitting or manipulating her partner, and simply letting her lust and desires flow freely. Tor`koss himself was merely the outlet for her; any of her slaves would have done. But then again, perhaps not, for his loyalty to her and any other he had served was unswerving. Rare was such blind devotion apparent in the surfacer slaves they took, and she intended to take fully advantage of him.

And then the boiling rush of release as she felt her inner muscles contract around him and her head arch back, thrusting her small breasts forward for his inspection as she squirmed and drove him into her, her body orgasming with her senses thrown over the edge of sanity or care. There were no words spoken now, just feral grunts and pants, her lips curling and her voice snarling as she fucked him as though a wild beast in heat, her guttural instincts taking hold and letting her ride the blissfully painful waves in all their glory.

And then she wound down, but her motions did not cease, only intensified as she lay across him, grabbing his twin braids and tugging violently on his hair, forcing him to sit up as she smothered his face with her sweaty, glistening mounds, using his hair as a bridle and forcing his mouth to suckle her. He needed absolutely no prompting either, his mouth eagerly parting to be allowed to sup upon her divine flesh, to be allowed to taste and pleasure her in all fashions. She cooed angrily as she felt him begin to bite, thinking of how glad she had been to have taught him that, or at least, let him know that she loved it so. For he had been one trained by the drow and had absorbed so much of their knowledge of the carnal and sexual. His was mindlessly simple desire and enthusiasm, to simply be able to touch and fuck her in any way she wished.

She shifted between which nipple she had shoved in his mouth as the fancy struck her, her body writhing with another fiery climax as she felt him start to whimper slightly through the fevered pants of ecstasy and the low purring sound he made when they did this. She knew already that he was nearing the ends of his limits, and that he would soon be begging for his next orgasm. But she was far from finished, and continued to use his body as a living toy for her pleasure. And when the requests came, they were denied.

Again and again.

Until she had had her fill of him. Until she herself could see no reason why he could not come.

All for her…

…Jabbress.

Later she learned all she needed to know about the assassination attempt. That it had all been set up by a rival house, to use some poor unsuspecting pawn to be easily traced and implicated to look as though a different house had made the attempt on a Matron’s life. The only thing was, there was no hard proof of this, and she was faced with a choice. To save face and ‘gracefully’ accept their token of good will to track down the killer and therefore be required to offer a gift… or to scoff at the idiocy and perhaps face a lowering of status to the other houses that were already waiting for any sign of breaking or slight to jump for more power. It was all so transparent to her, but she was not exactly dealing with the smartest bunch of drow, and even some her own children were base simpletons.

Tor`Koss felt all of this. In fact, he was more attuned to her than any slave or lover she had ever had in a long, long while, despite how dimwitted he was. He had his moments that shone above the rest, when he didn’t say or do anything too stupid. But for now, his loyalty was a simple comfort that she could enjoy, especially with him in her bed that night, massaging her body with his expert touch, her dark body gleaming, naked, and oiled from his ministrations, his body moving like a well-muscled machine. She sighed… she knew what it meant to give a tribute to another house… that you had to give something you valued, and she knew that several of the other females of that rival house wanted to sink their teeth in her ranks of slaves.

Especially her precious little Tor-toy.

But she was the Matron, and she would feel Lloth’s whip-like tongue across her flesh before she would let those sluts and bitches touch her slave.

As her slave was finishing his massage, she spoke with her voice thick and husky, her arousal already back but kept well under control as she said, “Tor… do you know what lies above the realm of the Underdark?”

He had never been there, nor could he know what it was like. But tales he had many of, and his response was simple, “This one knows that it is a realm of Cursed Light, filled with the Reviled Ones, the betrayers of the High Ones, Jabbress.”

She nodded absently, stroking her finger across his leg without needing to turn to look back at him. “And do you trust your own strength and resilience, Tor?”

An odd question, and he found himself having to think… which was not a good thing because for him, contemplation was a very involving and long-winded process. But she was patient as all females were, to be worth anything. Finally, he said, “This one trusts its body, for it must in order to be able to protect and Serve Jabbress in all things. This one constantly trains itself and its strength in order to better Serve.”

She scowled, knowing that this was definitely an unfortunate resolution, but it could not be helped. She would find a new slave some day, but it was a pity she had to lose this one in this fashion. Sitting up, she stroked his cheek, then grabbed his hair and crushed his face to the padding of her bed. He made no resistance, and she had caught him quite off-guard, but that mattered little. With a brief, but brutal gesture, she shattered the clasp of his collar with her brute power and a little magic, causing it to blast into pieces and lie around his head in smoking remains.

He was literally stunned, his eyes seeing the remains of his collar, his mind understanding that it had been broken… but everything else felt completely wrong. This was not supposed to happen… he had served well, and was supposed to remain hers forever… or until he or she was killed… or he was given away. But never was the collar supposed to come off. For it represented the most terrifying thing his mind had ever known…

Freedom…

He instantly groveled before her, whimpering, begging, trying to make some sense of what had happened, what had he done to displease her? She let him whine for a moment, then simply issued a harsh command for him to be silent. Once he was quiet but staring ahead like a body with no soul, she said, “Tor`Koss, from this moment, you are free and I banish you to the surface world. You are never to return to the Underdark of your own will under penalty of death. And you are to never, ever, take the collar of any other owner unless they can defeat you in single combat. Do you understand all of that, dog?”

Naturally, this was all far too much for his limited mind to accept, let alone process. He whimpered and continued to beg, his large form hunched into a pitiful display of subservience, his brain unable to comprehend what he had done to fail her. Of course, this was just her selfishness, her unwillingness to share what she had earned: him. If she was to lose him to a lie, then to Hell with what those other drow bitches wanted from her stock, Tor would never be theirs. Snarling lightly, she barked, “Guards!”

Tor continued to grovel, and had he been any normal being, he’d likely have been weeping. But he was whimpering and begging, which was the next closest thing. Her guards arrived into the room almost immediately, obeying her command to collect the former slave and throw him to the surface world. And they did so without question, hefting Tor to his feet and taking a few items that she allowed him to have. A club to defend himself, a simple suit of leather to protect him, and a small bag of coins to give him the ability to pay for food when he could not kill his own…

And then he was “free”. A concept foreign to his mind, a status he had no idea what to do with. And so he wandered the land… until he could find another… a new owner that would care for him, give him purpose, meaning into his life…

…Jabbress.

BACK