Jumwa reached down and roughly grabbed her forearms, easily hoisting her up onto her feet, picking her up as though she were a rag doll, walking over to the bed, dropping her carelessly to it as she cried out in pain, opening her fel-green eyes wide with fear.
The bed was large, covered in black silken sheets that were strewn carelessly about, stinking of sex. The mattress itself was firm and sturdy; Jumwa required something strong. The night elf was still huddled in the corner, her breathing fast like a tiny rabbit facing down a wolf. Jumwa went back to the dresser and pulled out some leather strips, looking over his shoulder at Anjasa.
Her breath wasn’t quick and panicked, but deep, holding back her sobs, preparing herself. Her eyes trailed slowly over the night elf’s body with malice, noting the little patterned markings and the curve of her thighs and stomach and chest. Anjasa narrowed her eyes in her own rage, seething at the disgusting thing Jumwa chose to bed.
Jumwa, however, was quick to move back to the bed and grip her forearms tight enough to bruise, pressing his thick fingers into the black ribbon, quickly pulling the leather strip around her arms, tightening it and tying it. Anjasa cried out softly, inhaling sharply as he yanked her hands roughly up, walking around the bed and tying her to the headboard.
Walking down, he grabbed her stocking-covered left foot, wrapping another length around her ankle, securing it tightly to the bed post, leaving her right foot untied. He moved back up to the head of the bed, pulling her face to look at him, his eyes hard and cold, unflinching. Quickly he sat on her stomach, straddling her, his thick hand moving to the back of her head and forced it up uncomfortably far, causing a brief bolt of pain to travel down her spine.
His other hand grasped his half-limp member, stroking it slowly as she looked down at it hungrily, furrowing her brow and glancing up at him only briefly before looking back down. It didn’t take long for him to reach his full girth and he sneered down at her, crawling off her and over to the frightened night elf, reaching up and stroking her cheek tenderly, mumbling softly, “it’s okay,” he smiled, his voice softer than usual. She glanced over at Anjasa, then back at Jumwa, still trembling in fear.
He grabbed her kindly, leaning in and kissing her lips, pressing her back onto the bed. Reaching underneath her he straightened her legs, parting them slightly and reaching between them, petting her moist petals. Anjasa glared at him then looked away, staring at the ceiling, her breathing quickly becoming rapid with her anger. She hadn’t prepared for this kind of punishment.
Jumwa glanced over at her and again in that evil voice he spoke her name, “An-JAS-Ah.” She looked back at him, her brows up in a sad pout, her lower lip trembling. He gave her a warning stare before looking back at the trembling elf in his arms, holding her tight. Shifting his weight slightly, he lifts her right leg slightly, moving his left hand to position his shaft to her slit. The night elf, whom Anjasa mentally named Kim'jael, Thalassian for “little rat”, tilted her head back, closing her eyes and trembling softly as he pressed into her, his hard eyes focused on Anjasa as he let out a somewhat forced groan, pressing in deeper and deeper.
Kim’jael had a funny sort of voice, almost like an untuned instrument. Anjasa wouldn’t be surprised if Jumwa had told her not to speak, since she hadn’t done much more than let out a tiny groan and whimper since she got home. She glared at the night elf’s smooth neck, her strong jaw, her navy hair. She hated the way her breasts flattened against Jumwa’s broad chest and how her fingers groped at his muscular sides.
Anjasa struggled against the restraints slightly, not daring to remove her eyes from Jumwa and Kim’jael, moving her leg slightly and testing the strength of the leather. It wasn’t as though she was planning on escaping, but she needed to know her options. It was something she had learned in the jail. Become intimate with your surroundings, you may never know when you’d need something obscure. Her stockings pulled down slightly, lowering to right below her knee, the soft black material rubbing against her as she struggled.
Jumwa looked at Anjasa again before closing his eyes, his thrusting deep and rhythmic, his strong arms easily lifting him off the bed, moving to pull the deep purple leg back, exposing the sight of his cock pistoning in and out, glimmering with her wetness. Anjasa glared resentfully at the sight of the muscles in the elf’s thighs and the scent of her arousal thick in the air.
‘Little rat,’ she thought, sneering, still moving her bonded leg slightly, ‘little rat,’ she closed her eyes and inhaled, ‘he calls me his shadow cat.’