you can find the new entry below the break or read the story in its current entirety (as well as all the other active “She Was Too Low Level” stories) HERE.
Content Warnings/Kink Spoilers: This is an average sized entry at about 4,000 words. It leans HEAVY into hard non-con (a bit harder than I normally lean) and builds heat through erotic horror of someone watching the non-con happen.
Here are the winners of the previous polls:
– We’ll see the lead slaver sitting on a bed, Thalris on her knees between his legs sucking him off. He’ll be giving her pointers to do better then start telling her what the rest of her life will be like to help break her. He’ll point out that as an Elve she’ll live for whole generations of Humans, so if she is bought by a Human she’ll end up being passed down from owner to owner or perhaps even father to son, almost as if she’s a family heirloom. This will ensure that is in fact the fate she’ll meet after being auctioned off.
– While in her traveling box Thalris will hear the cart stopped. She’ll partially be able to make out that a group of Adventurers has stopped them, thinking they are the bandits they’ve been hired to kill. A fight will ensure and she’ll think she’s about to be saved, but then the cart will start moving. After getting to the next hideout she’ll find out the party of Adventurers were killed, all except the two female members. They will be being fucked and abused, the slavers raging at them for killing a few of their members. This will be mean hearted and not about training. One will have had her brain melted by a spell, while the other remains defiant and snarling making promises to kill them all. What ends up happening to them will be determined by a new poll.
“You gonna start it, Strood?”
The man Thalris knew was the leader of the slavers nodded. “Aye, boys, I’m the one that ALWAYS gets to start it. But don’t worry, she’ll need plenty of training and it won’t be long before we’ve picked up more that will probably need even MORE training. There will be plenty of work for you ALL to do!”
He peeled away from the other slavers and strode menacingly towards Thalris. Training time, Elve,” Strood told Thalris as he stepped up to her, pleased she’d been watching and listening so closely.
The Elve whimpered and tried to pull further back against the wall. “Please,” she whined pathetically. “You don’t have to do this. You can let me go. I know we’ve moved on to another town. You can just let me go when you move on to the next place and I won’t even be able to—”
“Shut up, you dumb Elven cunt,” Strood growled, backhanding Thalris hard enough to send her head slamming into the wall behind her. The blow left her stunned and unable to try and prevent the man from grabbing her by the hair to yank her away from the illusionary safety of the wall.
“I don’t like hitting women,” he told her, voice low and full of menace. “You’re not going to make me hit you again, are you?”
“No,” Thalris whimpered. She was shaking and felt sick at how pathetic she was. Was it really just days ago she’d thought of herself as a brave Adventurer looking to face ferocious monsters?
“Good,” Strood said. “I don’t like having to harm the living merchandise, and I like having to waste healing potions on them even less.”
He let go of her hair and knelt by her, pulling a key out of his pocket as he did. “If I unlock you you’re not going to do something foolish like attack me or try and escape?” He looked over his shoulder at the group of slavers chatting, a few of them grinning evilly as they watched their leader. “That wouldn’t go well,” he said in a low, threatening voice when he turned back to Thalris.
“I’ll be good,” Thalris told him, struggling to keep the fear from her voice.
“Alright then,” Strood said as he unlocked the manacle keeping her chained to the wall. “Time for some training, thing,” he snapped as he rose to his feet. When Thalris went to follow him he flashed a look of stern warning at her. “No,” he told her firmly, “YOU don’t stand. People stand. You’re property. A thing, not a person. You’ve got to internalize that before you earn the privilege of standing without being commanded. You crawl,” he told her.
Strood then led Thalris across the room, snapping and barking abuse to make sure the Elve crawled after him like a whimpering, abused dog. They went to a bed where Strood stripped.
Once he was naked he sat on the edge of the bed. “We gotta train that mouth up real good,” he began. “Come auction time men are going to want a sample and a good blow job is a great way to show what high-quality merchandise you are without having to let someone get a free fuck of pussy.” He leaned back slightly, putting a hand on the bed behind him to support himself. “Now get sucking,” he told Thalris, nodding to his manhood.
She crawled between his legs and got up on her knees. His manhood swelled in anticipation. She grabbed it, hand shaking with revulsion. She leaned closer, wanting to gag on the smell of it. Rank and unwashed, multiple vile odors mingled into a foul mélange that she knew included the smell of her own pussy.
It’s not real, she told herself as she leaned closer and opened her mouth. Just a nightmare. Or is it? It doesn’t have to be, she told herself as she opened wider and took his semi-rigid member into her mouth. It could be a delightful erotic dream instead of a nightmare. If it’s just an erotic dream then being trained to be a sex slave could be a wonderful thing. A thing that I enjoy. That arouses me. That I revel in. What I’m being made to do is just a performance! My mouth is my instrument and his cock is the thing I’m playing.
“You’re not terrible,” Strood told Thalris as she sunk deeper into her dissociative state, losing herself in her “performance”. “But it’s clear you’re inexperienced. Oh, you’ve got impressive natural talent. A DEEP cock-lust you probably didn’t even know dwelled in you.”
Strood moaned, leaning his head back for a moment to enjoy what the Elve was doing with her mouth. “Yes, a passion for dick that truly comes out once you get going.” He let out a sigh that was part satisfaction and part frustration. “But you lack the skill that comes from practice,” he told Thalris. “So we’re going to change that.”
The slaver started stroking Thalris’ hair, holding her head slightly as he did and helping direct the bobbing of her head. “Seal your lips tighter,” he told her. “Suck in more when you’re pulling up my shaft. Use your tongue to tease me, and when taking me deeper press it against the underside to massage my member and better rub the head against the roof of your mouth.”
Strood adjusted her head, making Thalris look up at him. “Eye contact,” he told her. “Learn to read the man you’re pleasing. Always keep eye contact while sucking him off unless he shows or tells you he doesn’t want it. Read his desires. If he wants you to hate that you’re being made to suck him off let him see revulsion and misery in your eyes.
“If he wants to be convinced that being allowed to suck him off is a boon that brings you delight then look as though you’re in love with his member and that the feel and taste of it in your mouth makes your Elven cunt gush. Learn to act so convincingly it becomes true. Sink into the joy of being used till it DOES make you gush.”
Yes, Thalris thought as a rush of arousal overtook her. It ran deep to her core and left her womanhood gushing. I shall practice and learn to perform like no one ever has. My body will be a sexual instrument that will put on performances that will change men’s lives.
How could I have thought this wonderful dream was a nightmare? This is the most amazing fantasy my mind has ever created. I almost wish it wasn’t just a dream, that it was really happening…
Strood had been running his fingers through her hair as he directed her head. Now his fingers went to Thalris’ long Elven ears. He stroked them, making a happy sound of delight as he traced the long length of them.
Thalris cooed back, the gentle touch catching her by surprise. She’d never had a man touch her that way on her ears. They were an erogenous zone for Elves, as sexually sensitive as her nipples in some respects.
“Such long ears,” Strood said, his voice a contemplative moan as Thalris kept sucking him off. “Nearly long enough to run from the base of my palm to the end of a finger. That means your Elven blood is strong, yes?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. “That means you’ll live a long time, FAR longer than me or any other Human. Your life could last whole generations of Humans. Why, you might look barely aged several generations from now.” The man fell silent, moaning happily and enjoying the wet slurping sounds of the Elve sucking him off while thinking over what he’d just said.
“If it’s a Human who buys you, or a member of some other race who lives about as long, you’ll easily outlive them,” he told Thalris. “If that owner has children you might end up being passed down to them. Imagine that! A sex slave passed from one father to son and on and on. You’d be like a family heirloom! A living sex toy whose sexual skills, and thus value, will improve with age.”
Thalris fell deeper into the illusion that this was all a delightful wet dream. She imagined what the life the slaver was proposing would be like. Such performances she’d give! A family of Human patrons, supporting her from one generation to another. She’d get to learn their sexual likes from generation to generation, perfecting her art through multiple lives of Human men. She’d be just as the man said, a valued family heirloom!
“Gods be praised, woman,” Strood grunted. “Are you seriously getting turned on by the thought of such a fate? What a shameful, pathetic piece of fuckmeat you are,” he added cruelly before grunting deeper.
Thalris felt his cock quiver then pulse in her mouth. Her heart swelled. A man cumming in her was like applause! It meant her performance had been well received. What a joy!
“Swallow it,” Strood growled as he came. “It will help you internalize you’re a thing now. Property. Just a place for your future owner to put his cum.”
And just like that the safety of the illusion she’d sunk in was ripped away. She wasn’t a sexual performer and it hadn’t been a wet dream. It was real. It was horrifying. And there would be no escape.
As soon as the evil slaver pulled his softening member out of her mouth Thalris collapsed to the ground, curling up into a small ball and beginning to sob as she swallowed the man’s nasty-tasting cum. She sobbed harder when she felt the stuff clinging nastily to her throat, a lingering reminder that she wasn’t a Bard anymore. She was just a thing, just a place for men to put their cum.
Strood let out a long, satisfied sigh. “I need some sleep,” he said, drowsy with post-orgasmic haze. “And I can’t be bothered to take you back to your corner.” The man bent down, reaching under the bed. He pulled out a leather collar attached by a chain to the bed. “We’ll just put this on you and lock it in place to ensure you can’t cause any trouble,” he told Thalris. “And you can sleep there on the floor like a dog.”
He didn’t even give her a blanket. Thalris lay, curled up to hide from the world and shivering as she sobbed herself to sleep.
* * *
The next day Thalris was bound, gagged, and blindfolded before being carried out of the slavers’ hideout and packed in a traveling box to secret her away as they moved on to wherever their next destination was. Once the slavers’ false merchant caravan was on its way the day of travel passed much like all the others had, with Thalris locked away with only her thoughts, fears, and shames.
She had decided that hiding her in the traveling box was about more than just hiding her as they made their journey to the auction she’d eventually be sold at. It was another form of training. A way to make her internalize that she wasn’t a person anymore. She was living merchandise, nothing more. Property. A thing. A place for her future owner to put his cum.
As those thoughts haunted Thalris she remained barely aware of a world outside her traveling box. It barely existed for her, only the bumping motion of the cart and the distant, muffled voices of the slavers provided any sign that the world continued to exist while she was packed away like the living merchandise she was.
Then everything changed. The cart suddenly stopped and Thalris heard shouting. Fierce angry voices, but not any of the slavers. Thalris listened, cursing that she was only able to make out every few words.
Slowly she was able to piece together what was happening outside. A group of Adventurers had stopped the caravan and were accusing the slavers of being a group of bandits they’d been hired to “deal with”. Thalris’ heart swelled. Was it possible that she was about to be saved? She tried not to hope, but the hope was impossible to hold back.
When the sounds of a battle broke out her hopes swelled further. A whole party of Adventurers sent to take down a group of bandits should be able to make easy work of these slavers, shouldn’t they? Of course they should! They’d captured her easily enough, but only because they’d taken her by surprise and had overwhelming numbers. But even a small party of mid-level Adventurers would be able to make easy work of THESE evil bastards.
At one point she thought she heard Strood, the slavers’ leader, bellowing in rage. “You killed him!” The words were clear. The Adventurers were winning!
The sound of battle grew more intense. There were more screams, a few of which sounded like ones let out before someone met their final demise. There was also the sound of magic, something she took as a sign that the Adventurers weren’t holding back.
The Adventurers are winning, Thalris thought. They are going to kill the slavers and find me. I’ll be freed from this horrible fate! She started to cry, unable to imagine how she’d handle going back to her old life after this ordeal. But she’d find a way to go on, preferably a way that kept her FAR away from this kind of danger.
Her swelling hope faltered when she heard a pained scream that had clearly come from a woman. Then more screaming, including more from at least one, if not two different women. When a short time later the cart started moving Thalris felt the hope that had been swelling up in her deflate. The Adventurers had lost. Chased off or worse, and now the slavers were continuing on their way. It was the only thing that made sense to Thalris.
She didn’t rage. She didn’t cry. She simply went blank and wallowed in despair.
* * *
When the cart next stopped Thalris assumed they’d reached their destination. Undoubtedly another seedy hideout where she’d be chained and further trained. She wondered if they’d stay here more than one night. They’d said some of their stopovers would last longer than others as they went about the work of “acquiring” new “merchandise”.
At least she’d get unpacked soon. She was looking forward to being released from the claustrophobic box. Being inside it had gotten so much worse after having her hope of being saved pulled out from under her. She longed to be somewhere, anywhere else. Even the prospect of sleeping like an animal on the floor with no blanket felt like something to look forward to.
The passage of time was always hard to tell while in her traveling box, so she was uncertain at first if they were taking longer than normal to remove her. But as time ticked uncertainly on she was left convinced she’d never waited this long to be removed. Was there a reason they couldn’t take her out? Was she in danger of being discovered by someone who could free her? What would they do then? Would they make her stay in the box overnight?
Finally the box was opened and she was lifted out of it. If she hadn’t been gagged she’d have thanked the man. As it was she almost broke into tears at knowing she wouldn’t have to spend the night in the box after fearing that would be her fate.
“Open the door so I can get the merchandise in and quickly out of sight,” the man carrying her grumbled. “After you help me get her all the way down to the main room you get back outside with the others and stand guard. Boss wants us being a lot more careful after what happened today.”
“Fucking cunts,” the man he was talking to growled. The anger in his voice startled Thalris, then when he went on its cold intensity disturbed her. “Being made into merchandise is too good for them. Hope the boss is going to make ‘em suffer first. Bert and Charles, gone because of them and the rest of their party. ‘Deal with us’? Ha! Well, we ‘dealt’ with them. But we kept those two cunts and now they’ll pay for what them and their friends did.”
Thalris’ blood ran ice cold as she realized the man was talking about the Adventurers. The one carrying her told the other, “You’ll get a turn to get some revenge, don’t you worry. But guard duty first.”
He carried her down stairs, stopping so the other man could open a door. Then they went through another door and down more stairs. As they descended the second flight of stairs Thalris was certain they had reached the slavers’ hideout because of the sounds she could hear. Angry, mean shouting. Cruel laughter. A woman’s voice, angry and interrupted with grunts and barks of pain.
Just a dream, Thalris thought, not wanting to find out what was happening in the room she was being brought to. A nightmare. Just a fear-filled nightmare about the worst things that can happen to a female Adventurer. She did everything she could to sink deeper into the delusion when she was brought into the room and able to hear what was happening more clearly.
“You fucking bastards,” a woman snarled, grunting a moment later. “I’m going to kill you. I’m going to kill each and every one of you.”
Men laughed. There was the sound of a hand slapping flesh, followed by the angry woman grunting in pain. Thalris heard the sounds of another woman gagging on something. She was still blindfolded but her mind started painting a picture of the nightmare she was trapped in. Two female adventurers, one bent over and being fucked from behind while another was having her face fucked.
Thalris was set down on her feet and told to stand where she was. A moment later her blindfold was removed. “Look at them,” Strood whispered into her ear as he grabbed the Elve’s head and forced her to look at what was happening in the center of the room. “Look what is happening and be glad your acquisition wasn’t nearly as rough.”
It’s okay to look, Thalris told herself. This isn’t real, it’s just a nightmare.
She stared at what was happening to the two remaining Adventurers. One was clearly a Fighter. She was face down on a low table, a few of the slavers holding her there. were keeping her arms held tight and her upper torso pinned to the table. A slaver stood behind her, her ass pulled up and her leather armor cut open so her backend was exposed. The man was fucking her, slapping the fierce dark-haired Human’s perky ass whenever the woman snarled another threat.
Kneeling on the ground beside her was another woman, a striking Human with silver-white hair. Thalris thought maybe she was a Battlemage by the way she was dressed. Her body was pressed against the side of the table, her head forced back to rest against the Human Fighter’s ass. A man had hold of her hair and was fucking her face, just as Thalris had imagined.
But something was wrong with the woman. Unlike the one on the table she wasn’t resisting. She was barely even gagging as the man forced his cock balls deep into her over and over again. Her eyes were strange, either rolled up into her head or turned pupilless. Thalris knew there were spells that did that, terrible spells that affected the mind.
“I want you to watch,” Strood said, voice low and full of menace. “Make sure you understand no one is going to save you and that anyone who tries will pay. Their party tried to ‘deal with us’. You understand? And they almost did. Two of my men, gone. Well, we ‘dealt with’ the rest of their party after that, but we took these two with us. Maybe they’ll eventually be turned into merchandise, but that’s not what’s going on right now. Now we’re just taking out our anger on them.”
Thalris stared at the two women, telling herself over and over again this was just a nightmare. And since it was why not try to explore it, to understand this terrible dream world her mind was creating for her?
She made a sound to imply she wanted her gag taken out. When Strood took it out she asked, “What happened to the Battlemage? What’s wrong with her?” She focused on the striking white-haired woman, not wanting to look at the Fighter. Even as a nightmare seeing her struggle and snarl threats Thalris knew she’d never be able to carry out was too much for her.
“Ah, that,” Strood began. “Brain got a little fried in the battle. We may not look like it but we’ve got a few magic users in our gang. After what happened to Bert and Charles things got a little… intense. A stunning spell hit her just as something she was casting got countered. The mix of magic was volatile and now she’s…” He trailed off. “Well, you can see.”
Thalris stared at the woman. Drool was pouring out of her mouth like a leaky faucet, her eyes blank as she barely gagged in response to the man making use of her mouth.
“When will she get better?” Thalris asked. If this hadn’t been just a nightmare she’d never have been brave enough to ask the question, fearing the answer she’d be given. But it WAS just a dream, so what did the answer matter?
“No idea,” Strood told Thalris. “Maybe she’ll stay like that forever. She’ll become an actual piece of fuckmeat and nothing more. It happens sometimes, and there’s a market for that although they never get anywhere near as much money as Elven fuckmeat like you gets.”
“Honestly,” he said after a pause, “it’s a little disappointing. My boys are angry and want to make her suffer. Can tell she’s not, there aren’t any lights on in there as far as we can see right now. Still, if she stays like that might be nice for the rest of the journey. Some of my boys, they ain’t the best at training. And the deeper the training gets the less those ones get to touch the merchandise. Be a good thing to have a warm set of wet holes to act as their cum toilet while we make our way to the auction.”
He raised his voice, calling to the others suddenly. “Alright, enough of that,” he barked. “We’re angry. We’re scum. But we’re not monsters. You want to keep fuck-punishing the nasty cunt? Use some of the pleasure oil.”
“No,” the woman snarled, thrashing about with renewed but pointless vigor. “Don’t come anywhere near me with that!”
Since it was just a nightmare Thalris was almost able to enjoy the erotic terror of what was about to happen. Pleasure oil was a rare, expensive thing but it made sense the sex slavers would have some. Although there were many different kinds that had slightly different effects anything called “pleasure oil” served the main function of heightening a woman’s sexual pleasure, making whatever part of her body it was massaged onto or into more sensitive to any kind of stimulation. When misused the fiendish stuff could lead to overwhelming, even dangerous amounts of forced pleasure even from the gentlest of touches.
“There you go,” Strood said with an evil laugh. “Poor plenty on her cunt. Good, finger it into the bitch. We want her insides good and oiled up. Lube that cunt up good and make sure she enjoys what we’re doing to her.”
Thalris was amazed her mind could come up with something so depraved and evil even in a nightmare. The pleasure oil would ensure the woman enjoyed what the men did to her. Even as she thrashed about and struggled, snarling and growling threats, Thalris could see the oil starting to affect her.
When the man behind her slid himself back into her all the fight went out of the woman. She went limp, moaning and shuddering in pleasure.
“Damn,” Strood said with a cruel laugh, “came as soon as you put it in her! Maybe you used too much. Then again, perhaps making her suffer through enough forced orgasms to leave her as mind broken as her friend might be just what the cunt needs!”
How will the rest of this scene play out as the Adventurers are fuck-punished? (Choose up to 5 options from this poll)
Philo Hunter Erotica 
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