Jumwa’s heavy arm swung backwards, his eyes narrowed furiously as the back of his hand connected with Anjasa’s jaw, sending her flying back, a loud thud resonating through the bedroom as she struck the floor. She blinked a few tears away, scrambling backwards on her hands and feet as he stalked over to her, glaring down.
“We’re not in public any more, little girl. Have ju forgotten?”
Anjasa shook her head, fear lining her usually youthful and smug face, her hair clinging to her jaw and forehead. She whimpers as though in apology, knowing better than to form words. It only makes things worse.
He towered over her, his frame easily triple hers, standing several feet taller than her. She often thought idly about how easily one of his powerful hands could crush her; it wasn’t surprising to her that the thought occurred to her again.
Quickly he lifted his foot, bringing it down onto her chest, her arms quickly failing to hold herself up under the pressure, she collapsed to the ground, staring up at him as he spoke, each word slow and planned, menacing, “I get to do what I want. Not even you has a say, Anjasa.”
She winced as he said her name, putting the emphasis on each syllable as he only did when he was on the brink of destruction, as if making sure she understands the meaning of it. “Death’s Mate,” he had told her, all those months ago when he had gave her the name. She was flattered at the time, and remains so, except when he says it like that. Almost as though he were hissing it.
He put more pressure on her chest, glaring down at her as she struggled to breath. Though he was broad, in his rage he moved quickly, and before she knew it, he was crouched atop of her, grabbing and pinning her arms underneath his naked knees. His large left hand grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him, staring for a few moments before letting her head go and bringing in his right hand, striking her roughly across the cheek.
Anjasa let out a loud cry, squirming below him and shutting her eyes against the involuntary tears, her face contorted, leaving her head tilted to her left side. “Don’t move,” he glared down at her, standing up and kicking her in the right side right below her rib cage. She went to move, to cradle herself, before forcing herself to remain still, her teeth and eyes closed tightly.
The large troll went back to the bed and stared down at the tiny night elf that was cowering in the corner, hugging the pillows against her naked body. She stared up at him with her golden eyes until he passed by her, rummaging in one of the drawers and coming out with a length of ribbon. His body too was nude, Anjasa having interrupted his romp so rudely.
She had been out at the bar for the evening and came home stumbling drunk and started spouting off about how disgusting Jumwa was for sinking so low. Probably would have taken it back, now, but it was too late for that.
Jumwa returned to the blood elf, staring down at her, the violence having quickly sobered her. Her lower lip quivers in fear, but she remains otherwise still. She was wearing one of her favourite outfits, a tiny red top, tied between her breasts, exposing her toned stomach. Her black skirt had ridden up to the tops of her thighs, her naked womanhood barely peaking through. She must have taken off her heels at the door.
He knelt down, pinning her arms again, though there was really no need, he grabbed her forearms, easily holding them together as he brought the ribbon to her, glaring down at her face, his breath heavy and hot in his anger.
“I’ve let ju go too long without reminding ju. I shoulda known ju couldn’t remember for long,” he growled softly, swiftly tying her forearms together, both of her hands pressed tightly against her elbows, her hands getting slightly redder with the trapped blood. She whimpered and her lower lip trembled in humiliation and pain, her arms stinging where his heavy body sat on her. He finished tying his final knot and stood slowly, kicking her in the side once more, causing her to cry out in a shrill shriek, staring up at him with fear.
An apology was useless at this point. She knew her only option – accept her punishment.
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.’
She wriggled her leg a little more, giving up trying to move her foot between the tight leather loop, frowning. Anjasa closed her eyes for a quick moment, thinking, opening them wide as Jumwa let out a low growl of satisfaction, his voice husky with lust, “She’s tighter than ju, An-jah-sa.”
Her face fell, her body going limp for a brief moment, freezing in her place. Even her breath caught in her throat, struggling to get out ahead of the swallowed sobs. The little rat whimpered softly, pleasured and soothed by his words, Anjasa imagined, though it must have been all in her head. No idiot would teach a dirty elf orcish.
Anjasa glared at Jumwa, her eyes clouding over with tears before she blinked them away. No matter, anyways; he wasn’t looking at her. Instead he was staring down with a smile on his face, making lovey eyes with his little rat. “Ju could please any man with jour body…” he trailed off, leaning in to kiss her neck, cautious of his tusks on her smooth neck.
Kim’Jael made a tiny noise like a cat purring, tilting her neck up and exposing it to him. She rubbed her hands along his sides, brushing the back of her fingers across his dark blue skin. Anjasa pulled down on the top of the headboard angrily, making a little huffing noise. Jumwa didn’t even flinch, instead lowering his head to the woman’s chest, kissing along her collar bones, “How many trysts is this, now? Every day for a week? Two? More?” he smiled, murmuring into her chest.
The night elf let out a tiny sigh, lifting her long, muscular legs and placing them on either side of him, her fear having quickly disappeared at his loving attentions. Anjasa growled lowly at Jumwa, jamming her arms down again, the wooden headboard flicking back roughly against the wall. She kicked her leg, looking at Jumwa threateningly. Nothing he could do to her physically could possibly be worse than this.
And he ignored her, kissing the elf’s neck again, “Tell her. How many times?”
Then the little rat had the audacity to look at her, her golden eyes twinkling with a teasing smile flittering on her lips, “Many times,” she spoke. Her voice was hard, crackly, too squeaky for her own good, Anjasa thought bitterly, spitting at her angrily, the liquid barely landing an inch from her face, blood apparently in it. She groaned softly and swallowed, staring the two down.
“We were talking, before you came in, An-JAS-ah,” he hissed again, “about how she knows her place.” Jumwa didn’t look at Anjasa’s sour face as he spoke, instead talking to Kim’Jael, as if she weren’t even in the room.
“She’s so pretty, too. So tall. So strong. She doesn’t need to dodge and hide. She can come right out and fight, one on one in combat,” he sighed softly, never pausing his thrusting, never missing a single beat. He pressed one of his hands into her shoulder, pinning her for a moment as he readjusted himself, then moving to lift her legs back further, pressing her knees to her long, pointed ears.
“So flexible, too,” he groaned, pressing her back further, her feet wrapped around his neck. “I taught her to speak orcish. She caught on much better than ju.”
Kim’Jael looked at Anjasa, her face youthful and happy, her eyes not aged or cynical. Trusting eyes. ‘Jumwa would eat her,’ she scowled, fighting back the tears that threatened to free themselves, blinking and turning her face from them. Jumwa didn’t bother reprimanding her this time, so lost in his own passion. Anjasa struggled to roll onto her side, finally realizing why he had tied her outer leg and not her inner. He didn’t want her legs held open. He wanted her to watch.
Kim’Jael looked back up at Jumwa, leaning in and kissing his neck, biting it softly and sighing against him, her breasts bouncing with his thrusts. Anjasa rolled away as best she could, her lower lip trembling, digging her long nails into her elbows, trying to find the edge of the ribbon, desperately struggling to turn further away.
Jumwa sighed and moaned, moving himself from her loins, leaning down and kissing her body, dragging his tusk playfully over her nipples, then down over her stomach. Kissing her mound softly, he licks it, pressing his lips into hers, inhaling her heady scent, “A special treat for the true Anjasa,” he smiled, looking up at Kim’Jael. Anjasa snapped her neck to stare at him, the hiss gone from her name, because it wasn’t any longer hers. Death’s mate. She shuddered all over, convulsing a bit and struggling against her restraints roughly, her voice stuck in her throat, a low growl of anger and rage, staring at Jumwa, “Stop!”
His eyes flicked to her, staring at her coolly before looking back at Kim’Jael, lowering his face to her loins. Breathing on it softly, he growled, “Some never learn. No wonder I need to replace her.”
It was evening in Zul’Aman and they were holed up in a tiny hut. They had came with an army early in the day and claimed part of it, though no doubt the trolls will return soon. For now, however, they were safe. Sitting on the floor of the hut they cuddled into one another, relaxed and calm.
Anjasa takes a hand of his in hers, rubbing it softly, massaging the palm with her thumbs, “Where would ju like to hold de weddin’?” Jumwa kisses Anjasa’s cheek and hugs her to his body, “Ohh… I don’t know. Maybe… maybe up in de mountains. Wit’ de Shattahspear trolls.”
Anjasa nods a little, smiling, “If ju’d like, sure. Would be a small weddin’?” Jumwa places his free hand on Anjasa’s knee, stroking it, “Small? Hm. It would have to be small for up dere, jes. Maybe not den… it is a big event for us. For de Tribe too. Dere new Chieftess. Dere first one in almost two years.”
Anjasa smiles and blushes a little, “I hope I do a good job…” Jumwa smiles at her from the corner of his eyes, “I don’t doubt dat ju will for a second. Ju’ve excelled at it up to dis point, ju just haven’t had de title officially.”
He went back to kissing at her thighs, as Kim’Jael made tiny, funny noises. Anjasa could barely hear them over the panicked sound of her heart pounding in her chest. She jostled the headboard roughly as she kicked and struggled to free herself, but there was a reason Jumwa can bound her entire forearms and not just her wrists.
Kim’Jael must have been told to pay Anjasa no mind because that’s exactly what she was doing, closing her eyes and looking almost serene. The room stank of her stench, the smell of sweat and wetness and heat. The sheet under Anjasa’s back was wet with her cold sweat and she whined as she yanked down on the bedframe too hard, causing the leather to tighten against her arms painfully.
“I’ve never… had a position of authority really, ju know?” Anjasa says softly. Jumwa grins a bit and pats Anjasa’s knee before rubbing her thigh, “Jes ju have. Ju’ve been running dis Tribe wit’ me, hand in hand, for de past year. Ju have made it all a reality. We’ve been partnahs in dis since day one of my Chieftainhood.” Anjasa turns to look up at him with a face of astonishment, opening her mouth to protest, “Jumwa…” Jumwa shuts his eyes and leans in, kissing Anjasa’s lips softly, silencing her with his tongue gently spreading her lips.
Kim’Jael was saying something, she was talking. Jumwa was between her legs, lapping at her juices tenderly as she spoke. Anjasa willed the pounding in her ears to subside for a moment but immediately regretted it.
“When I’m Chieftess, can you imagine? You’d be triumphed near and far as the one who brought peace between the night elves and the horde,” she moaned out the words, her voice grating on Anjasa. Jumwa moaned softly, reaching up and grabbing Kim’Jael’s hand, squeezing it.
He lifted her head and smiled at her, his voice husky and low, “With ju as my queen.”
Kim’Jael nodded softly, tilting her hips as he lowered herself to her once more, extending his long tongue to her, dragging it up her length slowly. She moaned and lifted her strong purple leg, rubbing the heel of her foot up his back. She tilted her head back and sighed, “And we’ll kill any who threaten our rule, right?” she turned her head to look at Anjasa, whose eyes were wide with pain.
Jumwa nodded, his cold eyes darting over Anjasa’s scantily clad body, before focusing on her face.
Anjasa smiles and her shoulders slope as she finally relaxes, sighing against his lips. Jumwa reaches one hand behind himself, unhapsing his shield and letting it go to the ground before he tilts Anjasa back against one of his thighs and arms, kissing her until he breaks away, “I can look at ju at times, and see de woman… De woman beyond de tough Lieutenant. De woman beyond de beauty and even de brains. And I know ju are mine, and dat woman inside can’t be any one elses.â€ Anjasa looks up at him, biting her lower lip to stop from smiling, just staring at him in awe, turning her head to better watch him.
Jumwa raises a hand up, trailing his index finger tip along her jawline, “Her body could grind sweatily against anodah mans. Her mind could be turned to t’oughts of all else. But de woman ju are… she’s all mine. And can’t by her very nature have eyes for anyone else but me.â€
Anjasa smiles, looking away from him for a moment, “D’is is what I mean about feelin’ naked.” Jumwa smiles and looks down Anjasa’s body, “And dat’s exactly what I mean. Ju could have stripped bare for hundreds of odah men… maybe more, t’roughout de years. But only I’ve seen dis woman naked.” Anjasa blushes brightly, leaning up and kissing the bottom of his tusk, speaking quietly as though afraid someone might hear, “Ju’re right…”
Jumwa smiles warmly down at Anjasa, “None of de odah stuff mattahs, knowing dat. And I know, in our world of t’ieves, liahs, betrayal… I can count on ju to be true to me in spirit.”
â€œI could have killed ju… so many times… stolen everythin’ ju have… taken de tribe from ju. Everythin’ ju have, I could have taken with a flick of my wrists…â€ Anjasa mumbles softly, staring up at him, “I made a lot of enemies doin’ just d’at in de past… but not ju.”
Jumwa reaches his hand up the side of Anjasa’s neck, his thumb going behind her ear as he leans in closer, “Anjasa… I nevah could admit it to ju before… but if ju had stolen all dat’s mine… if ju did take de Tribe from me… I would follow ju in a heartbeat. I would forgive ju it, and…â€ Jumwa pauses, swallowing and looking down Anjasa’s face.
Anjasa tilts her head curiously, staring up at him as he spoke. â€œIt wasn’t always true, but… now I’d give all dat up for ju. And sometimes… sometimes I even t’ink ju are bettah den me. Dat I somehow captured a goddess who is bettah den me. More capable den me. Sometimes.â€
Their two sets of eyes pierced into her, over her sad, weepy face. Over the tear soaked cheeks. Over her smeared makeup, their eyes that of predators.
Anjasa shook her head sadly, giving her arms one sturdy pull then leaning back, her lower lip quivering too much to speak. Jumwa stared at her while the night elf moved, moving around his bulky body, then pushing him down on his shoulder blade, arching one of her legs over him, staring down at him with her golden eyes as she pressed her nethers to his cock, meeting some resistance. He still stared at Anjasa, even through his half closed eyes, even as he moaned his hurtful words, ‘soo tight.’ He only took his eyes off her for a moment to look up at Kim’Jael and smile a warm smile, “Almost as if she’s a virgin, each and every time.”
Anjasa growled and howled, bucking and struggling as the elf lowered herself on her lover’s massive member, the pierced studs slowly disappearing inside her. Anjasa glared violently. Those studs spelled her name. A-N-J down one side, A-S-A down the other. He wouldn’t even need to change them once he killed her.
She had been naive, too trusting. In all her years she knew what went on, knew what went bump in the night. She knew of the evil in the world and had committed more than her share.
But he had seen her nude, seen to the sore, sad, broken little girl that wanted nothing more than to please others and be loved. Exposed her every weakness, her every vulnerability, her every flaw to this man. This unstable, frightening man. The man who threatened wholeheartedly to eat her alive if she crossed his lines.
Her skirt had ridden up in her desperate effort, the ribbon in her shirt having come untied, her breasts bouncing as she struggled in her anger and self pity, staring up at Kim’Jael as she stopped several inches before meeting Jumwa’s hilt, pausing there as if in pain.
Jumwa looked over at Anjasa smugly, his shaft pulsing noticeably against the dark purple cunt.
“Whores are fun for a while, but d’ey have no lastin’ value,” he growled, staring Anjasa down, “Worthless. Nothin’ but a hole to fill.”