Chapter 18(Von)
(Author's note, I hope everyone is safe in Ukraine right now. Take care and stay safe).
Sethelel Cirar entered the night shift watch tower silently, the sun red on the western horizon.
It was still the evening of first growing day, and Sethelel was lucky enough to have two black feathers in her hair gifted to her by male admirers. Sethelel usually got at least one black feather each first growing day, being one of the more sexually attractive Gwendils on the plantation, and she always felt beautiful to get a black feather each first growing day.
Most of the other Gwendils in her particular tower looked moody and sullen, most not having received a single black gift from a man, and felt insecure about their own beauty as a result. Even those who had received a gift looked sullen, as a result of Lordling Runor commanding all of them to "end their nonsense with Sethelel and Ynarana", promising floggings to any caught acting unfriendly towards the pair.
The Gwendils lit a single small candle in a candle stick holder with a flint and knife, then closed and barred the tower door. They all immediately began to strip naked, putting their clothes and shoes in neat little separate piles on the floor out of the way along one wall of the ground floor.
Sethelel proudly kept the two black feathers in her tied back long black hair, not wearing a thing else, feeling reassured that she was very beautiful by these two feathers.
The dry corn stalks covering the floor felt very soft under her bare feet, the air was slightly cool, setting her nipples erect. The candle light twinkled over the gorgeous naked bodies of the other Gwendils, illuminating pale skin and brownish pink nipples in a seductive flickering light.
The air smelled of corn stems and timber, of candle smoke, summer evening air and the fragrant smell of clean female elves. Just a delicious combination of sensual smells. The towers had had most of the old blood licked completely clean by Vladana days ago until virtually no smell of blood remained at all.
Two of the Gwendils used the candle to light tinder and kindling in the fireplace, given fire keeping duties for the night, and the slightly cold dark room filled with delicious warmth and orange light.
Sethelel was about to climb up the ladder, but the other Gwendils stopped her.
"We need to talk", the Gwendils told her.
Sethelel nodded nervously, surrounded on all sides by other Gwendils.
"Lordling Runor has gotten himself involved in our business…", Methi Nakzur bitterly began.
"Yes…", Sethelel said nervously.
"How are we going to deal with this?", Methi asked unhappily.
"You could all forgive me?", Sethelel suggested nervously.
"It's not YOU that we have a problem with", Asta Dekkuthar snapped crossly.
"That's a relief", Sethelel smiled with a relieved sigh.
"Your damn girlfriend is the problem, that fucking traitor!", a Gwendil named Tititi Taurathut snapped angrily.
Sethelel nodded unhappily.
"We need to punish her at the very least!", a Gwendil named Ressa Shabhah demanded vindictively.
"That can be arranged", Sethelel encouraged in a tone of negotiation.
"I want to torture her for days", Methi agreed spitefully.
"Nothing too rough", Sethelel negotiated.
"She already has bruises, more won't kill her", Methi dismissed hatefully.
"Not too rough", Sethelel insisted.
"Weeks of torture in that case", Tititi demanded nastily.
"Weeks?", Sethelel asked unhappily.
"Weeks", every Gwendil in the tower agreed in unison.
"I will talk to Ynarana about it and see if she agrees", Sethelel said in a cooperative tone.
"Ynarana doesn't get a say in this. The Gwendil community on this plantation will all have to have a vote on the specific nature and duration of her punishment, Ynarana will abide by this decision if she wishes to remain a part of this collective", Methi outlined sternly.
The other Gwendils agreed with this suggestion.
Sethelel nodded uncertainly.
"I will inform Ynarana. Will she need to go back on night shift then?", Sethelel replied hesitantly.
"Night shift will be best to punish her properly", Methi agreed.
"Torvines might not let her change her shift", Sethelel reminded them.
"Then it will be your job to convince him otherwise", Asta hissed.
Sethelel nodded, "I will do whatever you need me to".
The Gwendils continued talking about this topic for a while, talking about how they wanted to torture Ynarana and punish her in cruel ways, but nothing much new was added to this basic plan.
The little meeting gradually disintegrated, and Sethelel and the other Gwendils on watch climbed up the ladder with their crossbows slung over their shoulders.
The Gwendils put down their crossbows on the floor of the sentry platform, and stood around looking out the arrow slits for any sign of Vladana.
The light of twilight was still a bit too much for stealth, and the vampire apparently was wisely avoiding the bare open fields until she had considerably more darkness to cover her from the view of the plantation house. The Gwendils sighed in disappointment, and began to form into couples or triples, whispering to each other romantically and beginning to kiss.
Sethelel watched jealously as the naked women erotically kissed each other, wishing that her girlfriend was here right now.
Asta and Tititi were getting particularly hot and heavy with the kissing, laying down on the floor before anyone else to make out very energetically.
Sethelel felt her folds moisten at the sight of these too horny naked sluts making out, they were passionately licking each other's mouths and faces in between extremely hungry desperate kisses, so horny for each other.
Methi and Ressa had also coupled up, and were soon kissing on the floor beside Asta and Tititi, rolling repeatedly into them with energetic kissing as they erotically wrestled with each other.
The two couples then merged into a foursome of free for all kissing and licking, saliva glistening off every face, the four sluts lost in their Gwendil delights.
Sethelel got so wet watching this that she rubbed her clitoris with her fingertip, softly masturbating as she watched the kissing orgy.
Other Gwendils on the sentry platform were gradually being absorbed into this kissing orgy, the free for all growing larger and larger until Sethelel alone wasn't a part of it!
Sethelel was rubbing herself furiously as she watched this pleasing sight, sad that she wasn't a part of it.
The Gwendils were now starting foreplay, licking each other's necks and breasts and bodies, caressing each other's skin with their hands.
Sethelel was masturbating so furiously now that she sat down to be more comfortable, her fingertip sliding all over her slimy clitoris.
The trap door was closed for safety, the other Gwendils were wrestling and rolling everywhere in a sexual frenzy, changing from lover to lover with every roll, tongues licking everywhere in their energetic lust.
The lust crazy Methi rolled into Sethelel, and began to lick Sethelel's outer thigh without even checking who she was licking.
Sethelel silenced herself from groaning in delight, thrills shooting through her as her leg was energetically licked, masturbating feverishly.
Methi was suddenly mindlessly licking the skin of another woman in the crawling mass of saliva slicked female flesh, not even aware that she had been licking Sethelel specifically, this was a chaotic orgy of completely random sex.
Sethelel missed Methi's tongue already, looking at the orgy with terrible temptation as she rubbed herself hard, she wanted so badly to just forget about Ynarana for one hour and go swimming in this pond of sexy Gwendil flesh.
Sethelel got control of herself and stood up, wading carefully through the orgy towards a more empty corner of the relatively small sentry platform. Sethelel was half way through the orgy when a rolling body tripped her over, and she stumbled down into the orgy!
Sethelel was immediately licked all over her body by mindlessly horny Gwendils, and her will to resist weakened with every lick!
Sethelel groaned softly, masturbating furiously, and then felt a mouth on her soaking wet vagina!
Sethelel put a hand over her mouth just to stay quiet, moaning desperately into her hand as her soft folds were sucked on!
Sethelel made a few feeble half hearted efforts to escape, but her will evaporated, and she just lay in indescribable pleasure as her womanhood was sucked on.
Sethelel lost all sense of the passage of time, and just basked in her pleasure, in some barely aware state of bliss. It could have been minutes that passed, it could have been until the end of time itself, she had no comprehension of time as she lay in a dreamlike state of mindless orgasmic pleasure.
Sethelel's breasts were licked and sucked by other Gwendils, and she mindlessly licked at a wet vagina that sat down on her face, lost in the pleasures of the orgy.
Ynarana would just have to get over this little lapse in faithfulness, Sethelel couldn't resist such pleasures as these.
Sethelel's entire world was female flesh and the pleasures of this flesh, her birth opening being wonderfully kissed and licked and sucked on. She could see only the underside of the Gwendil sitting on her face, and could barely breathe with so much wet vagina resting on her mouth and nose. Every breath reeked wonderfully of erotic clean wet womanhood!
Sethelel wasn't masturbating anymore, the Gwendil mouth doing the work for her, and moaned into the vagina in her face, her breathing making wet snorting sounds through the wet thing over her face.
Sethelel was licked and sucked wonderfully slowly to an intense climax, the dizzying peak stretching for ten glorious seconds of perfect pleasure that made her feel complete.
Sethelel exhaled hoarsely into the vagina at the end of her climax, but didn't even have time to recover before she was being sucked onwards to multiples, her pleasure complete.
Sethelel eventually found herself laying barely conscious on the floor, cuddling the upside down body of Asta, softly kissing Asta's vagina.
Sethelel was so pleasure blasted that she seemed to have short term memory loss, not even remembering everything that had happened to her in this wonderful orgy.
Asta's messy wet vagina pressed eagerly into Sethelel's kisses, and Sethelel just kept kissing it, feeling extremely peaceful.
Sheer exhaustion forced the orgy to disintegrate over time, Gwendils crawling out of the mass of bodies to seek food water and rest. Sethelel came to her senses and guiltily crawled away too.
Sethelel ate a slice of cheap bread and drank some water, replenishing her strength, and cautiously peeked out of an arrow slit.
The grounds were safely darker now, Vladana would probably arrive soon.
"Coming back to the orgy Sethelel?", Asta asked curiously, sitting beside her.
"Ynarana will be unhappy enough already, I had better not cheat even more", Sethelel replied guiltily.
"You have already cheated anyway, she will be mad either way, you might as well just continue", Asta shrugged.
"One lapse is more easy to forgive than an entire night of repeated cheating", Sethelel pointed out unhappily.
Asta shrugged, and reentered the orgy.
Sethelel watched the orgy for a while, feeling both tempted and guilty. Sethelel already had enough bad news to tell Ynarana without this as well.
Ynarana was going to suffer quite badly for many nights at the hands of the other Gwendils. They would bind her and gag her every night shift, and torture her in various ways the entire night.
Vladana of course might try to rescue Ynarana, but these towers were designed to keep the vampire out, the Gwendils could easily just lock her out of whatever tower Ynarana was being tortured in.
Vladana would no doubt be furious, but she couldn't really do anything about it. She needed their help as friends in Naggaroth, and needed to feed so had no choice but to keep orgasmically biting them. The Gwendil torturers could live without the pleasure of being bitten for a few weeks.
Sethelel wouldn't even tell Vladana about this until it was voted on, Sethelel had only just been fully forgiven!
Ynarana would be fine, she was a bound bride now, she would be tortured for the rest of her life anyway, the Gwendils could hardly make it worse. Ynarana would suffer no permanent harm.
A soft knocking sound at the door below suddenly roused Sethelel from her dark thoughts, and she heard the door being opened and closed again.
The orgy paused at these sounds, and Gwendils excitedly lifted up the trap door.
Sethelel smiled when she saw the cloaked form of Vladana crouched down biting one of the two ground floor Gwendils between the legs.
This would be fun…
Vladana very slowly finished pleasuring the pair of Gwendils on the ground floor, and then began climbing the ladder.
Everyone got excited, and Vladana was mobbed almost before she could climb out of the ladder hole.
Vladana crawled to the wall of the sentry platform to ensure no lust mad Gwendils accidentally fell down the ladder hole, and Sethelel and the others scrambled eagerly after her.
Tititi managed to be the first to get vaginally fed on, and bit desperately into a leather strip as Vladana's fang pierced her soft womanhood. Sethelel jealously lifted the back of Vladana's dark cloak, revealing her legs and perfect pale bottom.
Sethelel smiled eagerly and licked the crack of Vladana's backside, tasting surprisingly clean undead ass that hadn't done a shit since becoming a vampire.
Vladana shifted slightly from having her bum crack licked, and Sethelel put her tongue completely up Vladana's back passage, tasting the faintest earthy taste of old residual poo residue that had been up there long enough to completely decompose into relatively harmless dirt.
"What the hell are you doing to my ass?", Vladana whispered, almost but not quite a complaint.
Sethelel just kept licking her ass hole, exploring this weird place lustfully with her tongue.
"That's really unhygienic", Vladana complained halfheartedly, obviously getting aroused.
Vladana reached back with her hands and spread open her vulva, offering this opening instead.
Sethelel happily changed holes, licking the pale wet opening.
Vladana groaned into Tititi's bleeding womanhood in pleasure, and Sethelel continued to lick the vampire in her special place, teasing her clitoris with the very tip of her tongue.
Another Gwendil, Asta as far as Sethelel could half-see, put her face in beside Sethelel's, and helped lick.
Sethelel shifted her face to one side, and the pair of Gwendils licked the sexy vampire to heaven, until she squirted on their tongues, the squirt tasting like vagina and blood.
Sethelel forgot all about the worries about Ynarana getting tortured by the other Gwendils. The pleasures of the vampire were far more important.
Ynarana was a bound bride now, and seemed to be getting quite resistant to torture. She could probably take whatever the Gwendils threw her way. Just look at Safafi, she could endure anything with a smile. Ynarana would hopefully soon be simply as unfazed by torture as Safafi was.
Sethelel might be a terrible girlfriend, but she decided not to worry too much about Ynarana getting tortured.
Hopefully she would soon simply be as impossible to truly torture as Safafi was.
No need to worry, right?
***…
Far away over the horizon to the north west, a full long day of riding from the plantation, the great city of Clar Karond sprawled along both banks of the great Red Venom River. The city was old and poorly planned, with many layers of fortified stone walls extended out in ever bigger layers, urban sprawl forever spilling out beyond the existing walls as the population grew and grew, requiring yet more new walls to protect this creeping urban spread.
Every tiny silt bank in the river next to the city had been built upon, gradually connected to each other and the shore by elaborate elevated bridges and draw bridges, the web of bridges and built upon silt banks now so complete that a pathway of bridges crossed completely to the other side of the river. The city had then simply spread across the other side of the river as well in its endless chaotic spread.
Clar Karond was perhaps not the most prestigious city in Naggaroth, nor even the richest, but it was without any doubt the most important city for the majority of the agricultural, timber and petty unglamorous product production economic sectors of Naggaroth.
Clar Karond alone was far enough south to be close to the temperate farmland and food plantations that provided the majority of the food in Naggaroth. It was also the closest to the best lumber forests. Food, timber, fibre, cloth and leather, animal fodder, wine and other agricultural or forestry goods flowed into the city, to be processed by vast industries of innumerable occupations, the finished products then flooded into the bloated ports that choked the river with piers, loaded onto ships to be sent to the rest of Naggaroth.
If Clar Karond ever fell, Naggaroth would starve, it's fleets would lack timber, and the entire economy would collapse. It was the lynchpin that the whole of Naggaroth depended upon to survive as a nation with such a vast population.
The Witch King knew of this importance, and had fortified the city well, erecting endless towers and castles and walls all throughout the city, with dark sorcery woven everywhere into the defences to strengthen them even more. Dark elves felt safe behind the many walls in this impenetrable city, surrounded by endless guarded plantations and creeping urban sprawl. This city would never fall, it had just too many layers and too much stored food for any siege to defeat it.
Given the protection and the vast amount of materials flowing through this city every day, vast numbers of low born dark elf families were drawn to move here to ply their petty trades. Tanners, wood benders, carpenters, rope makers, weavers, sail makers and endless other extremely petty but important professions were concentrated here in vast numbers.
The high and prestigious dark elves might largely spurn Clar Karond as a sprawling slum of dark elf commoners and scum, grubby common elves engaged in occupations that were not at all exciting or glamorous, but this exact fact made Clar Karond one of the most heavily populated cities in Naggaroth, second in population only to the capital city of Naggarond itself.
Clar Karond was a key population centre of low born poor dark elves to recruit as conscripted warriors in the Witch King's armies when he went to war, endless poor spear elves and repeater crossbow archers, and even large numbers of middle born dark riders. Most dark elf sailors also hailed from Clar Karond, and it was the primary port of the dark elf navy, with mighty black arks sitting berthed in the very deepest parts of the river, with specifically designed piers built out to them.
Deep within this urban sprawl, in the squalor of reeking slums of old worn timber and peeling wattle and daub, the air was thick with reeking fumes of sewerage and shit and vile chemicals, flies buzzing everywhere and rats and mice and other vermin infesting the place.
The lanes were narrow walkways, with the putrid multi floor slum buildings built so that each floor over-hanged the floor below, "jettying" was the technical term, so that the narrow lanes were almost completely hidden from the sky by hanging buildings, with only a crack between buildings at the top of the lanes, making the air even less fresh in this revolting polluted place.
Inside one of these multi story putrid wattle and daub slums, the expensive black evening dress wearing Safafi Movavul the bound bride and retired dark rider, blinked slightly in the oppressive stench and fumes, as the much more frugally clothed Filovha Mekrath and Tuvak Mekrath offered her more to eat.
"No thank you, dear hosts", Safafi declined with warm politeness, carefully hiding just how disgusted she felt right now in this unholy stench in this festering slum building.
The Mekrath home could be, (generously), described as fit for only a slave to live in, and even that was pushing it. The building was modestly tall in terms of being three stories, but tiny in terms of land area it was built on, requiring several floors just to get any sort of liveable sized floor space. It didn't even have inside walls to allow for separate rooms, each floor simply a single room with no privacy at all, with only the outside wattle and daub walls, and tiny little shuttered windows narrow enough to keep out the witch elves each death night.
For such a small and open floor space the home had far too many dark elves living in it, not just Ynarana's parents but also all of Ynarana's surviving siblings, most of them young adults and even the youngest close to coming of age.
Ynarana's many cheaply dressed siblings were currently gawking at Safafi with open mouthed awe, still not quite able to believe that a middle born was visiting their humble home.
Safafi was alone, as Tovonnith had no desire to enter a slum building for a social visit let alone a meal, and only Safafi had been polite enough to accept tonight's invitation, (with Tovonnith's permission of course). Safafi had simply lied to the Mekrath family that Tovonnith was too busy to attend tonight, as this was more polite and tactful than the truth, and the Mekraths seemed none the wiser.
She was currently up in the top third floor of the building with her hosts, this floor having the greatest floor area thanks to the way every floor was wider than the floor below. This top floor didn't have a fireplace or hearth, relying on a humble hearth on the ground floor for cooking and to heat the entire building, (the hearth callously built to vent smoke out of a tiny short sideways chimney, directly into the smoke polluted lane through a small smoke hole in the ground floor wall).
Lacking a fireplace or hearth, the top floor was simply lit by dirt cheap rushlight candles in an iron rushlight holder stand.
Crudely cut planks set across a pair of crude sawhorses formed a temporary table, at which they all ate, with thicker planks set across low storage chest boxes forming a bench seat on each side for them all to sit at. Rolled up simple padded sleeping floor mats beside one wall indicated that at least most of the family also slept in this room, with the crude plank table and bench seats clearly being disassembled and stacked out of the way when not in use, so the family members had room to sleep on the floor.
The family was eating a mixed grain based gruel of some sort, that Safafi strongly suspected was made using at least a bit of slave food grade field corn, the gruel served hot from an unglazed pottery pot into humble unglazed pottery bowls. They each ate with their own individual carved wooden spoons, (though Safafi had fortunately been given a well washed metal spoon), and drank water from cups made of the same cheap pottery.
Safafi was not at all offended by this humble food. This family was poor and lowest born, they needed to be frugal if they wanted to save up money for special things like the clothes the parents had worn to the wedding. Clearly it had cost them a fortune to dress up and act more affluent at Ynarana's wedding, and now they were back to their normal habits, unable to afford to keep showing off.
If not for the nauseating smell of the reeking air in this home and it's local neighbourhood, Safafi would have no problem eating this food, but the smell was sapping her appetite and she had eaten but a little of the gruel out of politeness.
Safafi's horse Vesie was snorting unhappily down on the ground floor, unhappy with the reeking air, and seemed to be trying unsuccessfully to climb the narrow extremely steep stairs to reach Safafi. The ground floor outside entrance door was, of course, locked and heavily barred to keep out local burglars who might try to steal the extremely expensive horse, and Vesie didn't seem to like the door being closed either, making her even more agitated.
"Hush Vesie my darling, I am up here, relax my darling", Safafi called down soothingly to her agitated horse.
Vesie the horse snorted at the reassuring sound of Safafi's voice, and seemed to calm down, becoming less agitated.
"So what did you all do today?, Anything exciting happen?", Safafi warmly asked, deliberately changing the subject to a happy topic.
"Tanned leather", the various dark elves replied somewhat embarrassedly.
"That sounds exciting!", Safafi encouraged warmly with her full warmth, not wanting anyone to feel embarrassed or ashamed.
The various Mekrath dark elves murmured softly, not exactly sharing Safafi's enthusiasm.
"From what Ynarana told me, you have to be REALLY tough to survive working as a leather tanner, I think that most elves would die in the conditions Ynarana described!, It must be wonderful to know that you are amongst the toughest elves in Naggaroth", Safafi encouraged mercilessly, determined to lift them up.
The various elves smiled at these words, feeling encouraged, and Safafi continued to charismatically praise them.
"Ynarana has extremely strong blood, my husband and I were deeply impressed by the toughness bred into her. She will give us such strong grandchildren", Safafi pressed enthusiastically, cheering the children in particular with the notion that they also were very well bred.
"My daughters are all unmarried", Filovha Mekrath suggested unsubtly.
The daughters all looked excited but nervous, clearly desiring to climb the social ladder with marriage, but terrified of becoming bound brides.
Safafi smiled politely.
"I am afraid that it is up to my sons to choose their own wives", Safafi apologised graciously.
"Perhaps they could meet my daughters?", Filovha pressed hopefully.
Safafi personally doubted that her unmarried sons would be at all interested in reeking tanners, but conceded that such a meeting was possible some time in the future.
The daughters became excited but agitated at this concession, hearts clearly racing at the thought of being set up in a meeting with some dashing young dark rider from a bride binding House.
"What about us sons?, Could we perhaps meet your single daughters?", one of Ynarana's brothers asked unashamedly.
Safafi couldn't help giggling melodically at his pure cheek, beaming a happy smile at him.
"Such boldness!", Safafi giggled, "I am sure that you can MEET my daughters, yes, but tame them as bound brides?".
The young man, Tanec Mekrath, seemed put out by Safafi's doubt in his ability.
"I am willing to learn how", Tanec insisted defensively.
"I mean no offence young Tanec, but a daughter of House Movavul has rather high expectations of any husband. They kill husbands who fail to tame them", Safafi encouraged, unable to fully stop giggling.
"I believe that I can learn how, I just need a tutor", Tanec pressed, his pride not letting him back down.
"Can you also afford to keep one of my daughters in the standard of prosperity to which they are accustomed, working in your current employment?", Safafi asked gently, really not wanting to hurt him.
"I could find better paying work…", Tanec attempted, blushing with bitter humiliation now.
"Tanec, just stop…", His father Tuvak Mekrath told Tanec softly.
"I do not wish to be unkind", Safafi added apologetically.
"You are far from unkind Safafi, my son is just letting his fantasies cloud his grip on reality", Tuvak assured her, making Tanec look even more humiliated.
"The daughters at least have a chance of becoming bound brides. Not a good chance, I won't lie, but one of my sons MAY take a fancy to one of you young women. Sons on the other hand have no chance of marrying a bound bride, not unless they are something far more prestigious than a tanner", Safafi explained sympathetically.
"What would be prestigious enough?", Tanec asked curiously.
"A HIGHLY successful low born corsair, with MUCH spoils of plunder, is a low born who could MAYBE afford one of my daughters with my husband's reluctant blessings", Safafi suggested uncertainly.
"You are not becoming a corsair!", Tuvak snapped at his son before he could even consider it.
"You still owe us decades more labor before you can do ANY other job", Filovha sternly reminded her son.
"Ynarana didn't obey that…", Tanec began.
"Enough!", Tuvak snapped impatiently.
Safafi politely said nothing, as Tanec bitterly held silent.
There was a brief awkward silence.
Vesie was being noisy again, whinnying unhappily as she (presumably) tried unsuccessfully to climb the stairs again.
"Vesie my darling, you can't climb the stairs. Just stay down there my darling, I haven't forgotten about you", Safafi called soothingly to her horse.
Vesie didn't listen this time however, and loudly neighed for Safafi to come to her, deeply agitated for some reason.
Safafi politely excused herself from the table, and went downstairs to tend to her horse.
Safafi got only as far as the second floor, finding Vesie's neck poking out of the ground floor stairs, her shoulders wedged tightly in the extremely narrow hole in the wooden floor the stairs cut through!
"What are you doing my silly darling?, Are you stuck?", Safafi giggled, deeply amused by the sight.
Vesie whinnied and snorted, shaking her neck around, trying to unstick herself.
"My dear hosts, sorry to be a bother, but I may require some assistance", Safafi called up apologetically.
Various heads poked down the stairs from above, and elves loudly exclaimed in surprise.
The entire Mekrath family was swiftly down on the second floor, and Safafi tried to calm her agitated horse as they all tried to think how to unstick her from the staircase hole.
The men all tried to simply push her back down the hole, but she seemed quite stuck.
"How did the horse even get so stuck?", Tuvak asked in wonder.
"She is very silly when she wants to be", Safafi explained apologetically.
Vesie was making unhappy noises, and Safafi soothed the animal, patting her head and hugging her neck to calm her down.
"Vesie darling, try walking backwards", Safafi encouraged the horse.
Vesie obediently tried to obey, elf horses being quite intelligent animals, and she shifted very slightly, still badly stuck.
All of the elves together tried pushing with all their might as the horse pulled backwards, and Vesie suddenly pulled free, tumbling backwards down the stairs to land upside down on the stone pavement of the ground floor!
"Vesie!", Safafi exclaimed in alarm, and rushed down the stairs to check that Vesie was ok.
Vesie awkwardly rolled over and stood up, whinnying unhappily, and Safafi fussed over her, making sure she had no broken bones or other injuries.
"Is your horse ok?", Filovha asked curiously.
"She seems to be fine, she just got a bad fright I think", Safafi called back, fussing over the horse.
"I am concerned about going back upstairs, she will just try to follow me again I think. She is very agitated tonight", Safafi said apologetically.
"We can bring the food downstairs", Filovha offered.
"Don't go to any trouble", Safafi began.
"It's no trouble at all", Safafi was reassured, and all of the food was brought down to the tiny ground floor, elves simply standing holding their bowls.
Vesie immediately showed interest in the food, and tried to put her snout in various bowls, trying to eat the gruel.
"Vesie stop it!, I will feed you at home", Safafi scolded her horse, pulling her head away from the food the elves were holding.
Vesie then did a giant poo on the floor!
"Vesie!", Safafi scolded, getting embarrassed for her poor hosts.
"No problem, we can use it in the tannery", Tuvak reassured her.
"You can?, Well feel free to help yourself to the floors of our stables, we have an infinite supply", Safafi laughed warmly.
"You are most generous", Tuvak thanked her.
"It's horse shit, I never really thought of it as very valuable to be honest", Safafi giggled melodically, shining with warmth.
"It's not expensive exactly, but valuable all the same", Tuvak chuckled.
"I think that our chamberlain slave sells it on occasion, the plantations buy it mostly. I'm happy to give some of it to you though, you are family after all", Safafi said happily.
"Your husband won't mind?", Tuvak asked carefully.
"I will have to ask him, but Tovonnith will not mind if you take a little I think", Safafi said happily.
"Vesie stop trying to eat their food!", Safafi scolded yet again.
"You don't ever beat that horse?", Tanec asked curiously.
"No never!, I don't harm animals or slaves", Safafi replied in slight shock at the suggestion.
"Not even the slaves?", Filovha asked slightly incredulously.
"No not even the slaves. Long long ago I used to beat slaves and animals, but not since I was fully tamed. Unnecessary violence is distasteful to seasoned bound brides", Safafi explained.
"Why is that?", Filovha asked curiously.
"I have had the negative emotions tortured out of me by my husband. I don't feel the emotions that would motivate me to want to beat something anymore", Safafi explained happily.
The other dark elves gawked at her in slight disbelief.
"Every time I feel a negative emotion that Tovonnith doesn't want me to have, I get severely punished. Eventually I was trained with pain not to hold onto these emotions anymore, the agony was too much to endure", Safafi explained with a slight involuntary shudder at the memory.
There was an awkward silence.
"Is that happening to Ynarana?", Tanec asked with apparently morbid curiosity.
"Yes, my son is punishing her every night according to his letters. She is stubborn, but her pride can't endure long against the punishments, she is making good progress he tells me", Safafi said happily.
"She gets tortured by her husband?", Tanec pressed eagerly with unhealthy curiosity.
"Yes, tortured yes", Safafi agreed.
"What sorts of tortures exactly?", Tanec asked eagerly.
"You are a sadist", Safafi noted calmly, a statement not a question.
Tanec immediately got defensive.
"That's why you want a bound bride, you are a sadist who enjoys torturing others", Safafi deduced out loud.
"Not in a bad way", Tanec said defensively.
Filovha and Tuvak looked embarrassed, as did all of the siblings.
"My husband is also a sadist, he gets great pleasure from torturing me. I have no problem with sadists", Safafi encouraged calmly.
"How do you get tortured?", Tanec asked eagerly.
Safafi carefully lifted her expensive black evening dress to reveal her upper legs but not her private areas, showing off the horrific bruises that covered her upper legs.
"Very nice!", Tanec said in rapt appreciation.
"This bruise was from a stick. This one is from an iron chain hitting me. This one is from a massive bullwhip. This one comes from a riding crop", Safafi calmly explained her bruises.
"Did it hurt?", Tanec asked eagerly.
"Yes, the pain was extreme, I cried", Safafi admitted softly.
Tanec now had a swelling in his cheap pants…
"This is embarrassing", several of Tanec's sisters were whispering to each other, ashamed of the spectacle Tanec was causing.
"I belong to my husband, no other man may have me…", Safafi quietly informed Tanec.
"I am not trying to steal anyone's wife", Tanec promised, rearranging his pants to try to make his swelling less noticeable.
"Tanec, you are humiliating our entire family!", Tuvak hissed in a quiet whisper.
"I'm happy to talk about the topic of bride binding, but perhaps it would be more appropriate if my husband or one of my sons explained these things to you, if this is your reaction", Safafi suggested gently, trying to deescalate this situation.
"I am eager to learn all they have to teach me", Tanec agreed enthusiastically.
"Vesie, that gruel is not for you!", Safafi scolded, distracted by the horse again.
"Are horses difficult animals to keep?", Tubak deliberately changed the subject.
"They are more difficult than a cat or even a dog, depending upon the dog, but they are not as difficult as a cold one, not even close. They are challenging at times but I love them all the same", Safafi said fondly.
"What are cold ones like?", One of the sons named Rakac asked curiously.
"Stupid, ill tempered, stubborn and difficult animals to work with. Even in the heat of battle they might suddenly lay down for a nap or stop to smell dung or try to buck their riders. They are the most difficult steeds in the entire world", Safafi said distastefully.
"But they are powerful", Rakac pressed.
"Oh indeed, if the cold one knights can actually get the truculent beasts into combat they can best even chaos knights of Khorne, they are brutal things in combat. They are just an absolute pain in the bottom to deal with on a day to day basis", Safafi conceded.
"You dislike cold ones?", Tuvak noted.
"My horse dislikes them passionately, I myself merely don't care for them very much. They are useful for heavy cavalry, but as a retired dark rider I will have nothing to do with them as a mount, they are completely useless for fast light cavalry use", Safafi admitted honestly.
Vesie suddenly got agitated again and kicked backwards, kicking a tiny mark into a wooden support pillar in the wall and almost hitting some of the elves!
"Vesie!, You might kill someone!", Safafi exclaimed, frantically soothing her horse.
"Cold ones are worse than this?", Rakac asked dubiously as Vesie was brought only just under control.
"A cold one would most likely have eaten at least one of us by now, they are infinitely worse than any horse in the entire world, even a completely mad horse is less dangerous than a VERY well behaved cold one", Safafi informed him, still struggling to keep Vesie calm.
The Mekraths shifted at this mental image.
"Vesie calm down my darling!", Safafi exclaimed as the horse kicked a very conspicuous deep indentation into a plastery wattle and daub section of the wall with her back legs!
"I am SO sorry!, I will pay for the repairs", Safafi said mortified.
Vesie was continuing to kick and be agitated. She didn't like the smell of the tanners and didn't like being in this relatively confined space.
"I apologise but I need to take my horse home before she causes even more damage", Safafi apologised as the horse continued to be difficult.
Vesie kicked another large indentation into the wattle and daub, and the Mekraths seemed all too eager for them to go before their entire wall was kicked full of indents.
The door was swiftly opened and the kicking agitated horse was led outside into the putrid enclosed narrow lane, raw sewerage from chamber pots openly running down gutters in the middle of the disgusting tiny lane. Safafi hurriedly put on a thick padded linen gambeson armour coat over her dress for her protection from possible footpads in the lane, and put on her black dark rider cloak over the top.
Vesie was even more upset by the even worse smells out in the lane, and Safafi said a hasty goodbye and mounted her horse, riding Vesie down the lane away from the smells of this filthy place.
The tiny lane was quite crowded with low born dark elves, and these all gawked at Safafi in surprise on her expensive horse in the garb of a dark rider, fearfully moving out of her way as though she might cruelly ride them down. Safafi got the feeling that not many dark riders ever rode through the lanes of these reeking slums.
Safafi was a retired dark rider, and had long ago killed tens of people in distant lands as part of her military duties. She was very capable of riding down people on foot, and had done it on occasion, but she felt absolutely no motivation to do anything like that anymore. All cruelty was beaten out of her soul after well over a century of being a bound bride.
Safafi didn't think like other dark elves, having had almost every negative emotion tortured out of her, leaving just empty space in her heart where these emotions should be. Her emotions that remained were almost all positive, she wasn't really capable of feeling truly unhappy anymore, happiness was one of the few emotions she had left to feel.
Bitterness was completely gone, cruelty was gone, spite and hate were gone, with a dull feeble dislike for high elves being the closest feeling she had to hatred. She still felt fear and disgust and a few other negative emotions that were important for survival, but all of the toxic emotions were pruned away, greatly improving her over all personality as a person.
Safafi merely smiled and waved as she rode past dark elves in the narrow lane, and they all seemed confused at such friendly warmth from a dark rider.
The horse continued slowly trotting down the crowded lane, the lane was incredibly dark.
A dark shape suddenly jumped on her from a dark alcove, almost knocking her from the saddle!
A dagger stabbed hard into the quilted linen of her heavy cavalry gambeson at her stomach!
The thick linen padding of the gambeson stopped the dagger blade completely, as difficult to pierce through as thick very tight knots of linen bedsheets!
Safafi punched the masked figure in the face with all her might, knocking him back to the ground!
Safafi pulled out her cavalry long sword from her scabbard immediately with a loud ring of fine dark elf steel, and pointed the blade at the assailant sprawled on the ground.
The figure scrambled away into a nearby open doorway, and Safafi did not attempt to pursue him, merely spooked by this near death experience.
Safafi inspected her heavy gambeson, and found the assailant's dagger was still shallowly embedded in the thick quilting, the blade tip stuck in the knotty thick linen layers.
Safafi pulled the dagger free with effort and kept the dagger for her troubles, some small compensation for the damage to her gambeson. It would take thirty minutes with sewing supplies to repair this damage.
The assailant had clearly been a footpad, a type of urban bandit who attacks people in the streets of cities to rob them. He had probably been after her horse, as well as any other valuables he could strip from her body.
Safafi wisely kept her sword naked in her hand, raised at the ready, and she became less friendly towards everyone she saw, suspicious now of yet more footpads.
The dark elves in the lane got fearfully out of her way at the sight of her blade, and she trotted as fast as she dared to make herself harder to ambush.
Vesie the horse was swift, and soon left the dangerous narrow lanes of the slums, entering a wider street with more room between the pedestrians.
Safafi galloped Vesie as fast as she dared, and tore through Clar Karond very fast, navigating the confusing maze of streets, heading to the safety of her home.
Safafi passed through several fortified gates into different sections of the city, and entered a middle born area where the plots of land were more generous and the houses were nicer, out of the price of the average low born dark elf.
Safafi saw her home up ahead, distinctive by the raised series of retaining walls deliberately raising up the ground around the house.
The property was surrounded by an inexpensive tall wooden palisade wall of sharpened logs to deter witch elves on death night, with a sturdy wooden gate that was currently open. The property was approximately a half acre in area, quite generous for non-industrial residential city real estate.
Spear armed human slaves wearing heavy gambesons were waiting for her at the open gate, guarding the property from trespassers, and these let Safafi pass without question, closing and barring the gate behind her when she entered.
The property resembled a molehill with a house poking out of the top, with a series of cheap wooden retaining walls holding up the soil in a stepped arrangement, with beautiful gardens planted all over this soil to look nice and help secure the soil with roots.
Just inside the gate there was a modest stable, and to one side a stepped stone path leading up the terraced slope of soil and retaining walls to the house at the top. The house outwardly appeared to be a three story house built on top of the mound of dirt, but it was in fact a five story house, with the mound of dirt acting as very effective soundproofing for the two bottom floors.
Safafi dismounted, and put Vesie in the stable for the night. Human horse grooming slaves took Vesie immediately and began unsaddling and grooming and feeding her, and Safafi said good night to both Vesie and the other horses in the stable, telling them all a bedtime story.
Safafi reluctantly pulled herself away from her beloved horses, and exited the stable, walking up the stepped stone path to her house, opening the door and stepping inside the well lit interior.
The house was comfortably middle born, built from double layers of bricks with the outside covered in protective waterproof rendering. The children had all grown up and moved out, but the house had had enough rooms for each of the sons to have their own individual bedrooms, with the daughters sharing rooms, as future bound brides didn't need to be spoilt with the luxury of individual bedrooms. The slaves all slept on the floor the way slaves do, mostly sleeping on the floor of the upper basement rooms.
The three above ground stories had wooden ceilings and spacious rooms, and contained the children's bedrooms, the entrance foyer, the multipurpose hall room, the kitchen and a few other public rooms that guests to the house got to see. The two stories below ground had vaulted brick ceilings with less spacious rooms and were restricted access to guests, no guests invited down to these stories.
The upper basement story was a wine cellar, a storage area, and also provided space for the slaves to occupy out of the view of guests, with rooms where slaves could repair boots or sew garments or innumerable other petty menial tasks. The upper basement also gave the slave children and babies a place to be where they wouldn't be seen by guests, with a nursery room with toys Safafi had given them where the little ones could play and learn and make noise unheard by the upper stories.
The lower basement story was completely reserved for the use of Tovonnith and Safafi, and was their private place. Only the adult slaves with cleaning or other duties were permitted to enter uninvited, and even Safafi's children had to ask permission to enter this story. It was a place of privacy…
Currently up in the entrance foyer room on the first above ground story, Safafi took off her cloak and her damaged gambeson, and tutted at the damage, examining the gambeson very closely in the light of a candle stand.
Safafi had been lucky that the dagger wasn't razor sharp, a sharper blade would have pierced through and stabbed her flesh. The dagger had been sharp, but not as sharp as it needed to be to pierce a heavy military grade gambeson, the linen was tough enough to stop even a blade or an arrow head.
Safafi should have worn mail and a breastplate as well as the under gambeson tonight, but she had foolishly decided not to. More fool Safafi.
Proper military armour consisted of two parts, a tough heavily padded linen gambeson underneath for padding, with riveted chain mail and a steel breastplate worn over the gambeson to add even more protection, completing the suit of battle grade light armour. (Cold one knights would add a third layer of armour in the form of plates all over their body to make it heavy armour).
The gambeson alone was so tough that some human warriors went to battle in only gambesons and shields, most notably the peasant rabble soldiers of Bretonnia who fought alongside Bretonnian knights, and even Safafi's sword blade had struggled to cut down these men in battle. Safafi had thought that a gambeson was enough protection.
Going to someone's home for a meal in full mail and breastplate just seemed slightly rude. The gambeson alone was already so hot that she had taken it off as soon as she arrived, additional armour would have been absolutely sweltering.
A house slave graciously took her gambeson away to mend it for her, and Safafi thanked him profusely for this kindness, making the slave smile.
Safafi looked for her husband, and was told by the slaves that he was downstairs on the bottom basement floor.
Safafi nodded and headed to a sound proof door, passing through into a staircase, going down and through additional sound proof doors. She entered the first basement floor, walking down an arched brick corridor that had side doors leading to vaulted wine cellars and store rooms and slave rooms. Safafi went through another sound proof door, heading down yet another staircase, coming to a final soundproof door at the bottom, going through the door.
Safafi entered the dark windowless bottom floor, entering a sinister candle lit brick dungeon, with several torture chambers and her bedroom located within it. The ceiling was vaulted brick and highly impervious to sound. The thick brick outer walls of this level were buried deeply on their outside sides by the mound of dirt, deadening the noise of every scream and other sound.
This dungeon and it's torture chambers were Tovonnith's play area, used to inflict extreme suffering and discipline upon Safafi herself. She had screamed and wept in pain a lot in this dungeon, and she would continue to scream and weep in pain far into the future in this dungeon. This was the hallowed workshop of punishment that improved the discipline of Safafi, and she absolutely loved this place.
Safafi walked past torture engines, implements of pain, and restraint furniture, remembering countless hours plied by every single one of them. Safafi got a naughty thrill from the memories of this suffering, deeply sexually excited by feeling pain.
Carefully constructed sound deadening narrow air ventilation shafts gusted in gusts of chilly night air from the roof, through tiny vent holes built into the brick walls. This chilly air was counteracted by numerous small merrily burning fireplaces scattered throughout the dungeon, the fires tended to by scullery slaves who remained discreetly out of view.
Safafi entered her bedroom, and found Tovonnith in a dressing gown sitting reading some correspondence at a wooden writing desk.
"You are home early", Tovonnith noted in surprise.
Safafi gave a precise recount of the entire evening, with the attention to detail of a veteran dark rider, paraphrasing for brevity.
Tovonnith checked her immediately for injuries at the mention of the dagger attack, and he angrily slapped her hard across the face for not wearing mail, criticising her severely for almost getting killed!
Safafi submissively didn't resist in any way to these slaps, and thanked Tovonnith for slapping her, feeling loved and special from how angry her physical well-being made him.
Safafi continued recounting all of the events of tonight, and told everything she could recall.
"You are a fool for not wearing mail in that slum!, You will be punished for your stupidity!", Tovonnith snapped at her severely.
"Yes husband", Safafi replied submissively.
Tovonnith roughly stripped Safafi naked, and grabbed a cruel handful of her long black hair, pulling her painfully by the hair into a horrifying torture chamber!
Safafi whimpered in fear as she was dragged to a brutal stretching wrack!
"The wrack!", Safafi squeaked in terrible dread.
"Yes the wrack", Tovonnith agreed with wrathful sadistic glee!
Safafi's eyes widened in horror, but she was too tame to resist even being wracked, and submissively offered no resistance as she was laid down on the wooden surface of this infamous torture device.
This was no mere toy or imitation, this was a genuine torture wrack, made from thick wood and iron, strong wrist ropes attached to a huge roller with a geared ratchet at one end, and strong ankle ropes tied firmly to the corners of the sturdy frame at the other end. This device was easily capable of ripping her arms out of their sockets, and was a device of true torture.
Safafi whimpered in very genuine fear as Tovonnith tied the four ropes of the wrack firmly around each of her wrists and ankles!
Tovonnith mercilessly moved to the geared ratchet at the roller her arm ropes were connected to, and began turning the handle on the ratchet with a terrible hard mechanical clacking noise, pulling in the slack of the ropes.
Safafi was quickly pulled so tightly that she couldn't move, arms fully extended above her head, legs tightly extended slightly spread from the angle of the ropes tied to the corners of the wrack frame at the bottom end. Safafi was pale with fear, softly crying in terror of the pain to come.
Tovonnith grinned down sadistically at her, face a mask of cruelty, and Safafi gulped at his sadistic expression.
Tovonnith turned the ratchet handle slightly…
Pain ripped through her as every muscle in her body was badly stretched, the pain deep and stabbing and horrific!
Safafi wailed in agony.
The handle turned even more!
The already bad pain became even worse, her joints on the verge of dislocating, the tendons of her joints screaming in indescribable agony!
Safafi screamed piercingly, in hellish pain!
Any more turns of the handle would injure her in horrifically painful ways!
Tovonnith was a seasoned practitioner of torture, and knew that Safafi's body was on the brink of injury. He took his hand off the handle, but didn't loosen the ratchet, leaving Safafi held in this hellish stretch!
Safafi could only scream, every muscle and tendon stretched right up to near breaking point, joints threatening to dislocate!
The pain in her shoulder joints was so nauseatingly bad that Safafi vomited vile tasting vomit into her mouth from the agony.
"Swallow that vomit back down!", Tovonnith snapped severely!
Safafi miserably swallowed the foul vomit again, weeping in agony and nausea, in hell right now.
"Thank you for wracking me… Thank you for making me swallow my vomit…", Safafi whimpered through her agony.
Tovonnith said nothing, and removed his dressing gown, revealing himself to be naked beneath.
Safafi was moaning and sobbing in appalling pain, her body at the brink of structural failure, nauseous from pain and vomit taste and horror and fear, but she still found herself getting wet at Tovonnith's nudity, desiring him sexually even now.
Tovonnith's hands played over her breasts as she was held defenceless in this brutal stretch, and she was powerless to stop him as he pinched and played with her nipples.
Safafi was getting steadily damper as he played with her nipples, even hellish pain no impediment to her erotic desire for her husband.
Safafi began to groan very slightly in pleasure, the groans swallowed up by her screams of agony.
Tovonnith put his index finger to her screaming mouth, and she obediently sucked the finger like a whore, even as her tears flowed freely.
Tovonnith explored her body with his hands, touching every inch of her as she lay stretched in the wrack. Tovonnith tried tickling her ribs, and it did tickle terribly, but she was in too much agony right now to even notice this far milder aggravation, and didn't laugh.
Tovonnith tutted in disappointment at her lack of usual reaction.
Tovonnith inspected her bruised body, checking for a patch of fully healed skin, and found one on the front of her right thigh. He collected his wedding day ruin encrusted stick, a far more painful implement than any mere riding crop, and took careful aim.
WHACK!
Safafi's sobbing agony became instantaneous broken bawling, her pain limit exceeded completely!
WHACK WHACK WHACK!
Safafi was projectile vomiting from the pain, eyes streaming with liquid, screaming through her vomit filled throat!
Vomit spattered over her chest and stomach, dripping down her sides onto the wrack!
"You will swallow every drop back down!", Tovonnith snarled!
Tovonnith used a brutal steel spoon to scrape all of her vomit up into a bronze bowl, as she wept in misery and despair.
A spoonful of reeking sick was put to her mouth, and she wretchedly ate it, quaking with nausea and despair that was almost as terrible as her pain!
Safafi sobbed in revulsion as she swallowed all of it, she even licked the bowl completely clean!
The taste and smell was horrifically bad!
Tovonnith continued beating her wracked body with the rune encrusted stick, and she vomited again…
Merciless hours of pitiable torture later, Safafi was moaning in pain and pleasure on the wrack as Tovonnith lay on top of her, fucking her in the vagina. The wrack ratchet had been loosened just enough to let her badly stretched body be safely fucked without injury, and this slight decrease in the tension and pain felt orgasmically good after hours of even worse agony.
Tovonnith tenderly kissed her lips as he fucked her, and she lovingly returned every kiss, completely in love with this wonderful man.
Safafi was fully wet from her torture and misery, she was extremely sexually excited by pain and being tortured, and was always gushing wet after a few hours of torture.
Safafi hadn't originally enjoyed pain at all when she first married Tovonnith, but Tovonnith had gradually trained her to like it, making her associate pain with sex, until pain got her wet.
Safafi enjoyed the feel of his thrusts inside her as he tenderly kissed her. Her muscles and joints ached with crushing pain, she was exhausted from the pain, but she was still absolutely wet as wet can be wet.
Tovonnith had taught her a very strict lesson tonight about always wearing mail and a breastplate to the slums, and the torture had burned this lesson into her memory so that she would not forget it.
Safafi felt so incredibly loved and cherished as she was fucked on the wrack, he had loved her enough to spend hours torturing her in the wrack to make sure she kept herself safe, it was incredibly romantic how precious she obviously was to him that he would do this!
"I love you so much", Safafi whispered intimately in a brief break in the kissing, completely smitten with Tovonnith.
"I love you so much too", Tovonnith said back tenderly, and kissed her even more passionately.
Some time later Safafi was released from the wrack, and was enthusiastically straddling her husband in bed, his penis deep inside her. She was not currently bound, just having normal sex with her husband in bed.
Safafi was sore all over from the wrack, but Tovonnith had very carefully avoided injuring her, and her limbs all worked properly as they should, simply aching terribly.
Safafi was far too disciplined to let a badly aching body stop her having sex, and she simply pushed through the pain, enjoying her pleasures of the flesh with Tovonnith.
"You may come", Tovonnith moaned those wonderful words, and Safafi threw back her head and screamed with pleasure, going into bodily convulsions of pleasure straddling Tovonnith.
Safafi felt Tovonnith spurt inside her, and smiled contentedly at the knowledge she had given him yet another orgasm tonight.
Tovonnith pulled out of her, rolling her off him to lay on the bed next to him. Safafi and Tovonnith cuddled affectionately, faces intimately close, smiling at each other with deep love.
Safafi felt not the slightest resentment for her brutal treatment tonight, feeling happy and lighthearted and completely in love. Tonight had been extremely romantic, and she had climaxed so many times in that wrack that she couldn't count them all.
Tovonnith gradually recovered enough to feed, water and toilet Safafi, and tied her to the bed in her nightly bride binding as she smiled lovingly up at him.
Safafi's arms ached terribly in the spread eagle position after hours on the wrack, but it was merely extremely uncomfortable, not screaming agony. She was exhausted and her muscles felt tired and tender, she looked forward to sleeping.
Safafi laughed melodically as Tovonnith started tickling her ribs without warning!
Safafi didn't even comment on her torment, simply laughing hard without speaking as he relentlessly stroked her horribly ticklish ribs without mercy.
Tovonnith looked almost disappointed when she didn't complain or speak, on the lookout for any lapse in discipline to punish immediately.
Safafi maintained her flawless discipline, involuntarily laughing hysterically from the hideous tingly jumpy tickling, but not otherwise reacting to it.
Tovonnith watched her face closely and sternly as he tickled her brutally hard for over ten hysterical minutes, but Safafi was too well trained by him to break discipline for even a moment.
Tovonnith tickled her for a few more minutes, but tired of this when she still didn't break discipline.
"Thank you for tickling me Tovonnith", Safafi thanked him happily.
Tovonnith kissed her lovingly, and climbed on top of her to fuck her yet again.
Safafi was such a happily married woman, this was just lovely.
***…