Disclaimer: Drow not mine…

C

Adjusting

C

With increasing fear I watch Andy as he's combing his hair, putting on some stuff that must be perfume and finally a slight touch of make up, while our Master is idly playing with my hair. He never lets me forget that he's there, making me more nervous by the second. The waiting is probably the worst part, but at the same time I wish it would never end.

When he is finished Andy looks very pretty, almost like an exquisite doll, so fragile it seems as if you could break him with a careless touch and I wonder if that is how I appear to my Master. I've never spend too much time thinking about my appearance, the flowing water of a river doesn't give you a clear view of your features, with most of my life spent outdoors I've never had much chance to use anything else and with an upbringing that concentrated more on other aspects of life I never actually felt the need to worry about it. I suppose I look like any elf, delicate features, almond eyes and long hair, which in my case is a blue black shade reminiscent of ink.

A knock on the door lets me flinch, that must be this Vergir, who has come to fetch Andy. I wish he'd just go away and let me keep the only comfort that I have left! But of course he doesn't, no he comes inside instead and after a short greeting to my Master stares, first at Andy and then, to my great dismay at me when he discovers my presence.

As he walks over to have a closer look at me I hope with every step that he'll slip and break his neck. What a surprise when he doesn't oblige me.

"A new slave? Where did you get that one cousin? He must have cost you a fortune judging by his looks."

Is he talking about me? He must be, because the next thing he does is to lift my chin with his finger an assessing look on his face. If my Master had not taken a tight, painful hold of my wrist at that moment I think I would have told him in no uncertain terms to fuck off and go to bother somebody else. As it is he still notices the way my eyes narrow in indignation.

"A bit willful I would say."

"I've only had him for two days and he's untrained. But you're right, I plan to work on that part and besides, he was for free so I don't complain and enjoy the challenge."

The silky promise fills me with dread and somehow his way of saying "for free" makes me feel incredibly cheap, which of course was quite possibly his intention.

"For free? No clan or anybody who'd object?"

I know what is coming now. This opportunity for further humiliation is too good for him to let it pass by.

"No. Nobody wanted him. They cast him out as worthless. Isn't that true slave?"

I'll have to say it. Again! And strangely the knowledge that I will do it makes me hate myself even more than him.

"Yes Master. I'm worthless Master."

I try to hide behind a curtain of hair and he lets me, for now. And why not, he will have every chance to do anything he wants to me in a few minutes anyway, because I'm not strong enough to defy him. Absorbed in my self loathing I never notice Andy leaving and am startled from my thoughts when he touches my bare shoulder with a warm hand.

"Master?" I ask looking up in surprise before realizing that I'm alone with him. Once I do though I swallow, grit my teeth and try to mentally prepare myself for whatever he's going to do next. I become more and more nervous when he does nothing but watch me in a detached clinical way that is simply too creepy for me to not start fidgeting.

"My cousin is quite taken with you." He says out of the blue.

So his cousin wants to fuck me too. Now isn't that great! Such an improvement to my situation! Does he expect me to say something, to be happy? No, I guess not, he knows too well how I feel about this. In fact he can discern all my feelings far too well for my taste! I notice too late that my expression has turned sulky and try to correct this flaw without much success.

He does not comment on this though and only beckons me closer until I stand in front of him next to the bed. We're separated by mere inches of air and to my disgrace I can't seem to look him into the eyes or even his face. Well not until he takes hold of my throat with both hands and practically forces me to.

"You may resist me if you like."

Yes, thank you for that generous offer. Taunt me why don't you! As if any resistance on my part would change the eventual outcome. I can still breathe, but for how long? Will he force me to struggle? Maybe he'd prefer it that way, to make things more interesting.

"Do I have to Master?"

He smiles, the cold predatory smile of a shark that has caught the enticing scent of fresh blood and I realize belatedly that this simple question has implied my mental capitulation, my acknowledgment of his power over me, because if I had any hope left I would have gone for resistance instead of accepting his inevitable victory before the fight has even started.

"No you don't actually have to, but I expect you will later, out of pure instinct."

Before he has fully spoken the last word he has already thrown me backwards, on the bed and follows with the speed of a hunting cat pinning both my wrists over my head. The unexpected impact has left me a little breathless so I can only gasp weakly when he bites down on my shoulder so hard he actually breaks the skin and draws blood. It's fucking painful! Does my permission to resist include the permission to bite him as well?

I don't get the chance to find out, because he kisses me with my blood still on his lips. I can taste it as I automatically open my mouth to let him in. Half an hour later, covered in scratches and bite marks, I try to escape his touch for the first time and after he has me pinned down once again a flash of cruel triumph flits across his face that frightens me into compliance once more.

After another hour I start pleading, which only results in a vicious beating with a riding crop that leaves bright red marks on my backside and thighs. This night I don't get any preparation and I cry out in pain as he enters me with only the barest of lubrication. By now I'm too exhausted though to put up any serious resistance and my feeble attempts to crawl away are more amusing to him than anything else. If I had been able to kill him I think I would have tried it then, this is even worse than the pain on the outside.

When he hits that certain spot inside of me I realize with horror that despite all the pain I'm in my body still reacts to the stimulation. At that point I start to cry, I feel so helpless and humiliated! He obviously loves it judging by his eager expression and because he forced me to lie on my back I'm now terribly exposed, I can't hide my face in a pillow so he can see everything, every emotion that shows on my face, fear, helpless anger, revulsion, I just can't hold them back anymore. This continued attack on my self-respect is wearing me down and I think it must have all become too much, because I pass out before he has finished.

The next morning finds me hurting everywhere, the arm of my sleeping Master draped over my chest. I decide that moving is probably a bad idea, because one: it would hurt and two: he'd wake up and start doing unpleasant things to me. I close my eyes again, trying to go back to sleep. I might need it later. My attempt proves unsuccessful though and eventually I abandon it in favor of the less satisfying but easier manageable stare-at-the-ceiling strategy.

This works quite well until Andy comes in and makes a noise that wakes our Master. My favorite Drow looks decidedly better than I do, with no scratches or bruises too be seen and he seems to be quite well rested in contrast to my own state. I can see his eyes widening slightly when he notices the marks I have acquired during the last night.

I don't know it yet, but in the next months I will add a lot more to those while going through the beds of nearly all of the higher ranking members in the house. Their desire for dominance can be painful at times. Ironically I discover during this time that playing the whore is one of the few things I'm actually good at, even though I still don't like it much. After I have gotten over the first shock I learn quickly to read certain signs and how to respond to them in order to avoid unnecessary pain on my part. It is amazing how you can get used to even the most awful things after some time. By the time my fourth month as slave has passed I'm able to wrap most of the Drow around my finger and manipulate them at least a little. I can cry at will now, because Vergir likes me to "play innocent", as he calls it. Unfortunately this ability to influence things to my advantage does not work with my Master and the first time I try it my attempt lands me in the Room for three terrible days.

I get to spend most of the time with Andy and find out that we are actually quite a good team and more alike than I thought, so it is no wonder that I like the assignments the best where we work together and put up a show for the Masters to watch, like some strange sort of play. Fortunately this is what we do most of the time, because our Master has adopted a "look but don't touch" policy where others are concerned. Of course we are still sent away, but only to carefully chosen individuals.

Andy says that this is better than being confined to one room as his former Master used to do and despite my dislike for this new lifestyle which was so brutally forced on me I must agree that it could be worse. I have seen what they do to some of the other slaves who work in the stables or the kitchen and afterwards I was incredibly grateful that chance has not put me there. As long as we are obedient we are granted some privileges like going to the market and such. We don't starve, get nice clothes and little by little I start to adjust to the altered circumstances of my existence.

After six months here when I have more or less resigned myself to the fate of being a bed slave, my life is turned around once again.

On that morning Andy and I have gone to get a necklace at the market and there in the milling crowd I see it. A black skinned face that bears my cousins features. I stop dead in my tracks, which leads to Andy bumping into me rather inelegantly. There's another Drow with her .When Andy follows my line of vision and sees them he turns grey.

Hmm, I don't know if I went to fast at the end. Do you think I should have drawn it out, explained in more detail?

Please tell me what you think. (Oh and sorry for the evil cliff-hanger) g