New Entry For The Poll Driven “She Was Too Low Level” Story Featuring the Elven Bard Thalris

You can find the new entry below the break or read the story (along with other She Was Too Low Level stories) in its current entirety HERE.

Content Warnings/Kink Spoilers: This is a short entry, at just a bit over 1,000 words. There’s no sex scene, but it does talk about the main character being fucked. It leans HEAVY into non con and forced sexual slavery.

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Thalris lay naked, curled up in a filthy corner where the evil men had chained her to a wall. The place was some kind of hideout the slavers maintained for their frequent journeys, a dark dingy basement only they had access to. Signs that they were prepared for far more slaves than her were present, with other shackles and chains hanging from walls and in dark corners away from the bedding and supplies the slavers were gathered around in the center of the room.

Was this the first of these dens she’d been brought to? Thalris wasn’t sure. Everything had been a blur since they’d captured her. Through a mix of physical and verbal abuse they’d kept her so beaten down she’d not managed the willpower to plan a serious escape attempt.

She barely had a sense of where they were. Not in Midgate, the town where the Guildhall she’d been living in was. They’d returned to Midgate, depositing her in their hideout for only a night before moving on and traveling to wherever they were now, unless there’d been another city or town they’d stopped in before this one. She really couldn’t remember.

Thalris didn’t even know how long it had been since her capture. Had it been two days? Three? A week? It was so hard to tell. During the day while they traveled she was kept bound, gagged, and blindfolded in the back of a covered wagon. To anyone inspecting it the thing would look like it was packed heavily with large boxes full of goods, presenting the illusion the slavers were just disreputable-looking traders.

Some of the boxes DID have goods, but mostly as a cover in case someone inspected the cart. Most of the boxes were like the one she was locked inside while they journeyed. It was empty, sized just large enough for a grown woman with just enough air holes to make being secretly transported “safe” for the “living merchandise”.

Living merchandise. Those two horrible words were always running through Thalris’ mind now. It was how the slavers referred to her. She was certain they found reasons to use the words on purpose, they’d nearly told her as much. It was part of her training. They were dehumanizing her. Breaking her down. Emptying her so she could be more easily and better filled with training.

“Trained for what?” she’d asked early on.

“Dumb Elven slut still doesn’t get she’s a sex slave now, does she?” one of the men had said with a cruel laugh. He’d then walked up to her and kicked her in the gut, patiently waiting till the pain had passed. Once she looked up at him with tears in her eyes he told her, “You’re not a person anymore.” He went on with a calm, evil tone to his voice. “You’re property now, property that needs to be broken and trained so you can be sold for a large profit at the auction.”

It was the first but far from the last time she’d heard her captors talking about “the auction”. Where it was and how long or far they’d need to journey to reach it were all mysteries to her. All she knew for certain was their journey would end at the auction and she, along with any other sex slaves they picked up along the way, would be auctioned off there.

The journey won’t be a short one, she’d thought one of the mornings they’d been packing her in the horrible box she’d spend the day in. I know they only ever pick up one or maybe two women at each village, town, or city they pass through. I’ve overheard them talking about how more than that risks drawing too much attention, and how they make sure their ‘acquisition’ route is long so any disappearances that are noticed won’t be connected.

I’ve seen when they pack me in here that there are at least three other person-sized boxes, and that’s just in this cart. And someone said they had more of these carts waiting at future hideouts for when they pick up even MORE new slaves.

Her mind drifted through the fractured memories of what had happened to her since being captured. The long days hidden in the claustrophobic box with nothing but the dark and her fears to keep her company were a foggy blur. Only the first day they’d made camp was something she could remember even a little clearly.

She’d hoped the respite from their abuse would help her recenter and find the strength to try an escape after they let her out. It had done the exact opposite. The trauma of being dehumanized so thoroughly by being turned into nothing more than living merchandise along with the sensory deprivation of being bound, gagged, and locked in the dark box had ensured that by the time she was removed the Elve was more terrified than she had been when they’d locked her in it for the day.

The nights after they removed her from the traveling box were just as much of a blur as the days in the box were but in a different way. On first being released she was allowed to relieve herself and then given a meager, bland meal along with water. The men ensured even that was not something she could enjoy. They jeered at her, watching her go to the bathroom and shouting lewd things. While she ate they would remind her she was just “living merchandise” and they were only wasting money to keep her fed so she could be sold.

After that the night’s torments would begin. They’d take the blindfold and gag off when she was removed from the traveling box, but only some of the ropes keeping her bound. She’d be tied to a tree or post in the ground after that and would spend the night being sexually used as the men pleased, with the men only rarely giving her any kind of instruction that could be viewed as “training”. It seemed that for now she was being used simply as entertainment.

At least they hadn’t been too rough with her. They’d told her that would only happen if she tried to struggle or fight. Yet even letting them do what they wanted seemed to not make things any easier. They might not be beating her but they were cruel, constantly “reminding” her she wasn’t a person anymore. “You’re living merchandise now. Just property, nothing more.”

Thalris responded to the terrible nights the way she had when they’d first captured her. She’d slip away from the world, convincing herself this was all a dream. A dirty dream, one where she was just performing. She’d not just let them do what they wanted, she’d become a “willing” piece of living merchandise, eager to please. The humiliating sexual encounters would become performances in her mind, the pleasure and degradation just the sound of the instrument that was her body.

The coping mechanism always worked, at least until it didn’t. There would always be a moment, often right as whatever man was using her came, that the illusion would be shattered. Thalris would suddenly realize it WASN’T a dream and with the safety of the illusion pulled out from under her she’d be left even more traumatized than if she’d not have retreated into that mental safe space of denial.

As she lay hunched in the corner she could feel things were about to change. The men had been muttering more quietly, more aware of her listening to them causing them to make an effort not to be overheard. She’d still managed to pick up a few phrases here and there.

“Time to start training her,” someone had said.

“Need to break her first,” another had added.

The last poll winner set up us seeing a montage of Thalris being trained over time as the slavers move from one town to another, always keeping her naked and chained in their hideout. She’s to suffer through a cycle of disassociating and viewing what’s happening to her as a dream where she has to perform, then coming back to her senses and being further traumatized.

We’ve seen a bit of that, but the poll also said in the background we’ll be shown other sex slaves being picked up and trained. I had WAY to many ideas for all of this, especially as I’m trying to keep entries short so I can cycle quickly through all my poll driven stories. So We’re going to be taking this “entry” and stretching it out over a few different entries, with polls to determine what kind of training Thalris receives in each entry along with what she witnesses happening to other captured women.

What training will Thalris undergo during the next entry? (Choose up to 6 options from this poll)

What/who will she witness as the slavers begin to pick up more women to sell at the auction? (Choose up to 6 options from this poll)