Chapters Ysrii the Dalsur Chapter 1
Please note, this story includes themes of violence, sadism, and abuse not shown on-screen in my previous works.
“Feet, Ysrii.”
A zipper was pulled down in the coasting limousine.
I pulled my eyes away from the passing lights, a luxury for a house-slave like myself, and slipped off my sandals, reaching across toward Master Elias’ groin to find his warm cock out. Warmer than his runestone collar kept my naked body. With my toes and pads I stroked him, slowly, dexterously, while leaning into the leather seat.
“How long did you moisturize today, dear?” He asked.
“Three hours, sir. With the elixir you bought in Waoi. My spa is scheduled for tomorrow, though.” Why? Was my skin not soft enough? Was my technique incorrect? These worries rushed through me as I remembered my lessons: A human or elven owner can dispose of their Dalsur for any reason, any at all. You are always for sale.
“Mmm. Good girl.” I heard, uttered with the closest this socialite got to a grunt. It wasn’t much, but it wasn’t disapproval. Yet such small unspoken compliments – for nearly all of his were unspoken – cleared that existential worry from this slave’s little head. It was so good to be good, as we say.
Besides, I knew my worth to him. A misstep may ruin another dalsur, but not one with a face like mine, a chest like mine, a cunt like mine; unaffected by our race’s hermaphroditism. I was a catch, and he had paid handsomely to the state auctioneer for me.
His eyes closed and his breathing deepened, head reclining into the seat rest, before opening again to gaze at his pet, at the part of my body he always focused on as he was getting close, that which differs my lineage from the fierce elven raiders in Assiah’s northeast, my smooth shoulders and utter lack of arms.
Who can say when us dalsur lost such things, it was likely in the same process which sullied our ability to manipulate the world’s mana, and that which made the collar about my neck a requirement for survival in the Empyre.
But our State School lessons prioritized not the how and why, but the here and now. Serving, and serving well. And so I focused on my owner’s pleasure, especially as his leisurely sighs turned into grunts and moans, getting closer to eruption. I didn’t have to be told what to do after almost three years in his care.
Lithely, I slipped my subhuman frame out of my seat belt and onto the floor in front of him in the moving vehicle, replacing my feet with my mouth, licking and sucking him for just the last stretch until he was gripping my dark-skinned shoulders and spurting his seed down my throat. I swallowed with a smile, resting there with his cock occupying my mouth until he was soft and sighing, before returning to my seat with nought a word. Yes, I knew my worth to him.
I’m glad I didn’t have to wear makeup like human girls, I don’t know how I would’ve kept up, I thought to myself, the taste of him still on my tongue. My hair though? I glanced down and admired the long silvery locks, vibrant against the dark elven skin of my tits; a little unkempt for sure, but nothing like the knots from our ravenous session the previous night when he had fucked me from behind using my hair as his only handle. I lifted my foot up to my head without a second thought and tousled it until it looked close enough to how I had brushed it earlier, noting his eyes on my bare pussy while he popped an energy pill. I had to look my best at all times for him, but especially when we were going out like tonight!
We eventually pulled to a stop on another nameless block in the maze that was Ondora’s central district, and after Master clipped his leash to my collar, we alighted into a pungent alley that made me grateful that he let me wear sandals so I didn’t have to tiptoe between the syringes, condoms, and oil puddles like other dalsur. Feeling the wind sweep against my nude body next to Master Elias in his suit, I still tiptoed a bit, looking up at him but holding my tongue as we strode deeper into the alley.
He could sense my hesitation in the lead, “It’s not the Grand Empyrial Hotel, dear. This is the Red Light district. I know I spoil you, but there’s going to be some rough edges around here, and some worthless alley-whores you shouldn’t get too close to, you hear me?”
“Yes… I’ve heard of this place, but what are we doing here, sir? I thought you were taking me to a club.” To show off your trophy toy, I append for my own sake.
“Oh but we are!” And with a rap of the knuckles against a nondescript door, we were greeted by a burly man in black and escorted down a flight of stairs, deep within the building’s neon underbelly, before reaching a second door, one not made of graffitied steel but rich hardwood, flanked by another bouncer.
Now we dalsur, and elves in general for that matter, are much slighter than even female humans, standing at around four feet tall, five maximum, so let’s just say I’m used to looking up, but this man at the door was massive, and his shaved head meant business. The black coat he wore hid only some of his defined musculature, and I caught myself admiring how his pants strained to contain what was underneath in front and behind, even while he gave Master Elias a pat-down, a slight I paid for with a harsh yank on my leash once we were allowed through. “Yusso is waiting for you,” I heard behind me as the bouncer’s eyes undoubtedly returned the favor.
I quickly realized what the level of secrecy was all about once we were inside the large subterranean wine cellar, decades old, maybe centuries, which had been converted into this playset for Ondora’s rich and influential, as I spotted not one or two but at least a dozen dalsur of various classes perk their long ears up at our arrival. This was a dalsur harem, not technically illegal but surely a magnet of undue attention with this many slaves in one place. The closest three flanked Master Elias and I.
“Would you care for something new, sir?” a beautiful but whip-scarred dalsur said, eyeing me up and down. She had a vicious history painted across her skin, including two runaway brands on her thighs.
“A ride in the back room, perhaps?” a flat-chested pear cooed, sidling up to my owner.
The third got close to me, close enough that I felt her sizeable cock pressing into me firmer than her breasts, “Maybe your pet and I can put on a show for you.”
That was it.
“Off him, you worthless, second-rate alley-slaves! Do you not see the leash? He’s mine!” I instinctively got close to my Master, who wrapped his arm around me uncharacteristically, whispering “good girl!” just audibly enough for them to hear and disperse back to their perches about the bar, the rest of the rubberneckers about the place returning to their vices.
We continued deeper into the back, “How did you know I didn’t want that audacious one to fuck you just for the show, Ysrii?”
I giggled a bit for him, “Well I didn’t, sir, but I sure as hell didn’t want anyone but you inside me.”
Master chuckled at that, “A good answer, but not your place. I spoil you too much, darling.” His arm left my waist before spanking me firmly on the ass. Within moments I was following him loyally once again in my proper step behind, seemingly miles away from his touch.
An older pale elf stood up from a raucous back table, “Mr. Morrisset! What brings you to my little taste of Eden?”
The two shook hands. “Well I had to see the magic for myself, I had heard so much.” Elias was offered a seat while I stood dutifully behind him, his hands twirling the leash. Funny, I thought, he wasn’t one to fidget.
“Oh so it has nothing to do with the considerable sum you lost at the fight last week, of which I’ve seen not a lick of my winnings.” Yusso sipped his drink, and flexed his lithe but sinewy arms. It’s not often that one saw an elf in Ondora or indeed the Empyre at large, and the ones you did see were often travellers or adventurers, not quite outcasts but certainly peculiar. Not Yusso: he looked steadfast and in control, this was his establishment after all. Our eyes met and I lowered my gaze immediately as a dalsur should.
“Well see here, that’s why I came directly to Karma’s den, so to speak: to settle the score.” He accepted a drink from the waitress, a slim dalsur girl, barely out of state school, with a serving plate strapped to her abdomen and cantilevered by chains from her pierced nipples. “You and I both know that match was fixed. Koppers went down on the first shot Llewyn landed, after dominating the entire first round with all four of his fists getting their fair share!”
The whole table just laughed, and I felt a tinge of unease and second-hand embarrassment for Master Elias, even though I knew nothing about alt-fighting, the brutal sport between the more animalesque transformees. Yusso composed himself, “That was a straight match, and now you come to my table after you knew the risks and tell me you don’t owe a single kriss?”
The leash was twirling frantically now, “Well how do you know it wasn’t fixed?”
“Because I’m the one who fixes the fights, you fool! And if that one had been staged then I would be the one to know.”
At this the table resumed their ridicule and Master rose to the edge of his seat, pounding at the edge, “Then I refuse on immoral grounds!” But it was no use. Master was from a long line of inheritors, politicians, bureaucrats, the highest echelons of Ondora’s golden circle. He could fight but only above board, with his hands clean. Indeed he could probably make a call and get this harem shut down tomorrow, but at this moment, with that tank-built man by the door and Yusso flexing his knuckles in ever-draining patience, what did he have but his chequebook?
“What about another wager?” Master Elias’ fingers ceased their worrying of the leather leash, and he leaned back to take a long sip. Yusso’s angular eyebrow and long elven ear both raised in curiosity. Master had his attention. “My dalsur Ysrii against one of yours, perhaps the older one with the scars, she seemed pretty eager to please, must not see much attention with a history like that. But she’s dickless and pleasant-enough to the eye, she’s probably your… second most valuable slave, no? We’ll make a spectacle of it, first to cum loses.”
What?? I wasn’t trained for this! There was no way I could… could… I was his champion, his fighter, I… I… I had to make Master proud.
Yusso was smiling now, but no one was laughing anymore. “You’ve obviously heard of this place to suggest a match like that, to think I would take such a wager. But what of my risk? Your absolute peach, and she is one of a kind in her perfection, I give you that…” Yusso was eyeing me up and down now, feasting his eyes, “Your peach against my Alyal? That seems acceptable, but what do you put on the table to make this worth my while? I’d want the bitch of course.”
My mouth dropped, and I silently pleaded for Master to— “Absolutely not! You know what a Class A dalsur is worth these days!” My chin raised a bit and my toes pressed into my sandals. Of course Master wouldn’t risk my— “…but her worth can be adjusted.”
“Sir!” I yelped, causing Master Elias to turn to me, annoyed by my interruption.
“You have nothing to worry about, Ysrii. You’re going to win, aren’t you? You’re not going to disappoint your owner, are you?” That shut me up, but it didn’t quell my heart. How could he… what did he mean ‘adjust my value?’ He turned back toward Yusso, who was still regarding Master with an air of interest. “I do apologise.”
“Please, we all have our troublemakers,” he said just as the scarred beauty Alyal sauntered past me into the back of the lounge, around the table, and let her bare ass settle into Yusso’s lap, all the while batting her eyelashes at us. We elven kind have keen ears, it was obvious she had heard everything, “Speak of the demon. But yes, Elias, it seems you have done your research, haven’t you? An offer almost too good to refuse, I say… I accept!”