There are few fates the Eldar fear more than to be taken by their dark brethren, and there are few trophies prized more in the dark city than Craftworld Aeldari.
The Craftsman led the guests down the passage, his torch illuminating the ancient runes etched in the stones.
“Here are the rarest trophies, our greatest pride. The King has ordered to give you whichever you choose.” He entered the Chamber, where a handful of dark stems were sprouting from the ground,
some with prizes hanging on them. He shone the torch on the nearest one. “I’ve been working on her for fifteen years. She is almost ripe now.”
The leader of the small group approached
the fruit and traced a hand around her breasts. The Eldar opened her eyes and gave a soft moan, a line of drool dripping from her stretched tongue and onto her chest.
“Your craftsmanship is impressive,”
commented the guest, examining the intricate web of ropes. “But fifteen years! I mean no offense, but this looks like a few days work at best.”
The Craftsman’s lips curled into a twisted smile. “No offense is taken, honored guest. I will be happy to explain the process.
First, you should know that very few Aeldari ever allow themselves to be captured alive, for they are aware of our means. The ones you see here” - he gestured at the handful of hanging fruit around the
Chamber - “are a few decades’ worth of harvest.”. He slowly circled the dark stem next to him. “When we catch one, indeed the first steps are quick enough - her limbs are cut off and
she is hung by the hair on an Emeri Stem, which drains all of her magical energies and uses them to sustain her life. This simple but effective technique ensures that she cannot use any magic of her own,
but will be preserved in this state indefinitely.”
“I thought you trained them to be slaves of pleasure?” the guest tugged on the strings attached to the girl’s pierced nipples,
eliciting a few shameless moans. “This one seems to be ready for use.”
“She is almost ripe indeed,” agreed the Craftsman. “But this is the part that takes time. When the fruit is first hung, it is naked. We let it sit for a year in the dark before offering
to add the first layer of ropes. You should know that they are woven from special fibers that induce an effect of slight numbing and arousal. The ropes are only added if the Eldar immediately and profusely begs
for them. In any other case, we leave the fruit to hang for another year before offering again.”
“You are crueler than I thought,” laughed the guest. “So the first time you tie her up, and then you pierce her?”
“Not quite so quickly,” corrected the Craftsman. “We add just enough rope to hold a small pattern. The intricate web you see here is the result of 7 patterns, which took a total of 10 years.
Only then do we move on to the metal.”
“So she has resisted 3 times,” noted the guest.
“Oh, she begged each time. But sometimes it was not quite sincere enough.”
“And the others?” The guest turned to the rest of the fruit. “Do they see what happens to each one of them?”
“Indeed they do,” nodded the Craftsman. “It helps them to better understand the path ahead and speeds up their progress. But it is always an art of patience.”
“And the rings?” the guest tugged at the pierced nipples.
“They provide constant frustration and arousal. It is the final stage of the ripening.”
“Hmm. How do you know when they are finally “ripe”?”
The Craftsman smiled wider this time. “Their journey begins with torment and darkness. This brings madness, but we are careful not to allow them to slip into the comfort of insanity. We are lucky
that Aeldari are incredibly resistant.” He turned the fruit around, exhibiting it from all angles. “With every element we add, a small part of the torment is replaced with pleasure and part
of the madness becomes desire and frustration. They are ripe when they would do anything for pleasure.”
The guest nodded with understanding. “I will take this one then,
when you consider her ripe enough.”
“Of course. We can test right away if the fruit is ready.”
The craftsman removed the chain that held the girl’s tongue. She remained silent, waiting for a question to be asked. His hand darted underneath her, toying with her folds.
“We can send you to be a pleasure slave to our honored guest. He will do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Do you wish this, Eldar?”
“Please send me to be his!” she spoke without hesitation. “I will be good, I will do anything!”
“Hmmm…” His fingers plunged roughly inside of her, stealing a few moans. “I could allow you to go be his slave. But first I will cast a spell on your womb to make it compatible
and fertile for your new master. You will help breed the most powerful warriors, so that we can catch and enslave all of your sisters. Do you wish it?”
There was a moment of hesitation as a shadow passed over her eyes.
“Yes! Please use me to breed as many as you want!” she shouted out, a tear rolling down her cheek.
The Craftsman shook his head.
“Close, but not quite there yet. I will give her another year and check if she’s ripe enough.”
The guest nodded and they exited the Chamber, leaving the stems behind, their fruits ripening in darkness.
This is a featured piece that was drawn by PinkInk.
The original picture can be found HERE
The story was written by Vincent Valensky.