We decided to start our interviews with Lord Anthony’s personal slaves. To do so, we’d emptied out the drawing room and sent everyone to go hang out either in the dining hall or outside. We found a stash of blankets and linens, and I’d given all the slaves who needed one a temporary modesty blanket, to cover their bits. Some half-decent slave clothes would be on the shopping list as well.

The drawing room was set up so the interviewee was sitting in the single chair, and us, the interviewers sat on the couches. Our panel consisted of me, Chloe, Maddie, Lysander, and Lothelea.

The slave we were interviewing sat in her chair, giving us all a nervous smile. She was slender with short messy hair and an androgynous figure. She was feminine, but if she wore male clothes, she might have been able to pass as a boy.

“So… Paintoy, right?” I asked.

“Yes Mistress,” she nodded.

“Age?”

“Nineteen, Mistress,” she said.

“Class and level?” Lysander said.

“Level sixteen [Maid],” she answered.

“Sexual orientation?”

“Uhm what do you mean?” she asked.

“Are you sexually attracted to boys, girls, or both?” I clarified.

“Um… both? Doesn’t really matter who holds the whip, does it?” She said uncertainly.

“Do you have another name? Paintoy doesn’t really sound like someone’s birth name,” Maddie asked.

“That is my real name, I have no other,” Paintoy replied. “I suppose my full name is technically Paintoy Oh-nine-seven. The ninety-seventh Paintoy to graduate.”

“Paintoy was raised at a specialized slave school that produces extreme masochists.” Lothelea added helpfully. “From early childhood, all the way until she was sold at age sixteen, she was raised exclusively for the purpose of sadism play. She probably has the highest market value of any of us thanks to her rigorous training.”

Paintoy nodded proudly.

“What does that involve?” Maddie asked.

“Um… Constant pain, mixed with pleasure. From a very early age, we were taught to associate food and affectionate contact with pain. We would suffer, then get fed. We would suffer, then get hugs, pets, and positive attention. If we wanted something, we had to ask for pain before getting it. All our playground games involved flogging each other, either as a penalty for losing, or a reward for winning. We started and ended our days with pain. Some of my best friends growing up tortured me daily. Once we reached sexual maturity, we were also taught to associate sexual pleasure with pain. I cannot achieve orgasm unless I’m in physical agony, and conversely, pain alone can give me an orgasm if its sufficiently intense, without any genital stimulation at all.” Paintoy explained.

“That’s a pretty fucked up thing to do to a kid…” Maddie grumbled.

“Some girls and boys didn’t adjust so well, but I believe I had a rather happy childhood, Mistress. Once I learned to love torture, even the most extreme and intense stimulations only brought me joy,” Paintoy countered. “In fact… I’d much prefer torture over being ignored again…”

I gave her a puzzled look, there was a story behind that.

Lothelea, once again, helpfully explained. “Lord Anthony bought her at great expense, then tortured her mercilessly for an entire week. After that, he grew bored with her and moved on to other girls. He realized he didn’t want a torture toy that enjoyed torture.”

“Absolute best week of my life… but after that, well,” Paintoy gave us a tight, pained smile, and a resigned sigh. “It is what it is.”

“So what did you actually do for him then?” Lysander asked.

Paintoy shrugged, “Maid stuff mostly… Cleaning, mixing drinks, tending to brothel slaves, that sorta thing. I stood around in the background, ignored, while he tortured slaves that didn’t like it. It’s a bit ironic, that I was the only slave he treated gently and spared from the torture devices in the dungeon.”

“What a waste,” Chloe said sadly.

“Well you’re my Mistresses now, if you want a torture toy, there here I am, eager to suffer and cry for your pleasure. No agony is too great. You are the proud owners of an authentic Paintoy, worth almost five hundred gold pieces new, and with a second-hand value that’s still probably still above four hundred. But… if you only want a maid slave then I’m halfway competent at that too. Either way, I hope I’ll be able to earn my keep.”

“Come sit on my lap for a moment,” Lysander said.

Paintoy looked a bit confused, but got up from her chair and obeyed. She settled down on Lysander’s lap, legs together and to the side. Lysander gently patted her on the head, and smiled affectionately. Then she gently cupped Paintoy’s nearly flat chest, over the thin fabric of her maid uniform, and grabbed a nipple between two fingers. Paintoy bit her lower lip and smiled.

Lysander pinched hard, crushing down on the poor torture toy’s nipple as viciously as she could. Paintoy made a hiss of pain.

“Ah!” she cried out softly. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

Lysander twisted her wrist, and wrenched the nipple around, twisting it almost a full rotation.

“A-Ah!” Paintoy gasped, and squirmed on Lysander’s lap.

Lysander twisted a little harder, adding just a touch more pain.

“M-mm,” Paintoy moaned.

“That looks fun,” I said.

“Indeed it is. It appears our dear Paintoy was not bluffing,” Lysander grinned at me.

“It hurts Mistress,” Paintoy whimpered pathetically.

“I know,” Lysander said with a cruel smile.

“T-thank you,” Paintoy whispered.

Lysander let go of the nipple, and rubbed her victim’s sore breast.

Paintoy sighed with relief as her nipple was released. “Whew… nice grip for a lady. You made my eyes water a little bit.” she said, smiling.

“I’d like to play with you later,” Lysander said.

“Me too. She looks fun.” I replied.

“Mistress… C-can I try torturing her too? I’ve never done it before,” Chloe said.

“Oh of course,” I replied.

Paintoy whined nervously, staring into the eye of all her potential torturers. Then she grinned lewdly. She looked like the happiest girl in the world.

“We’ll need to play later, there are more interviews to go through.” Lysander said.

Paintoy nodded.

“Are we done then?” Maddie asked.

“I think so.” I replied.

“Go on then, and send in the next,” Lysander ordered.

Paintoy hopped up off her lap cheerfully. Lysander gave her a parting spank on the bum.

 

---

 

The next dark elven maid to arrive looked a little gloomy. She had an average figure beneath her maid dress, slightly curvier than Chloe. Like all elves, she was youthful and pretty, though this one seemed like she was trying to hide it. Her long white hair covered her face. She moved slowly, and slouched when she sat down. She brought her knees up, placing her feet on the seat. She was curled into a little ball, hugging herself tightly, and making herself look small.

“Hi,” I said.

The gloomy slave girl blinked at me, and seemed to take a good five seconds to realize I was paying attention to her. She awkwardly nodded her head.

“Name, Age, Class and Level?” Lysander asked.

“Ass Licker, twenty-seven, level 1 [Commoner].” she said, so quiet that I could barely hear.

“Ass Licker, that’s your name?” I asked.

Ass Licker nodded.

“Do you have another name? Or was that the name you were born with.”

“I have been an Ass Licker for my entire life.”

“I assume there’s a reason for that name?” I asked, with a smirk.

“Licking anuses is all I’m good for,” she mumbled quietly.

“Any other skills?” Maddie asked gently.

Ass Licker shook her head sadly, “Master let me lick his feet once… He said I was terrible at it, and beat me until I cried. I’m really only good for licking ass.”

“Have you tried… sucking dick, or licking pussy?” I suggested.

Ass Licker shook her head, “I used to have silly ideas like that sometimes… when I was younger. But no, I know what I am, and where I belong. I wouldn’t even know what to do with someone’s front parts.”

“What if we ask you to do something else… other than analingus?” Maddie asked.

Ass Licker winced, and stared at Maddie in despair, “I-I’ll try my best Mistress… but I’ll probably be terrible at it…”

“Ass Licker is, at the very least, quite skilled at her namesake activity.” Lothelea added sympathetically, obviously trying to help out her fellow maid.

“Skilled at licking ass?” I said.

Ass Licker nodded nervously, “…the best…” she mumbled.

“The best ass licker?” Lysander asked.

Ass Licker nodded again. “…the very best…” she mumbled.

“So, she’s a bit of a specialist?” I said.

“What’s your sexual orientation, do you like girl ass or boy asses more?” Lysander asked.

“…both? It’s the universal orifice, everybody’s got a butt… maybe boy asses are a little better cause they’re hairy and smell stronger…” she mumbled.

“I suppose it’s easy enough to guess… but what tasks did you perform for your previous master?” Maddie asked.

“Licking ass,” Ass Licker replied quietly. “Master’s ass, his friends’ asses, his employees’ asses, his slaves’ asses… any and all asses presented to me…”

Lothelea cleared her throat, “She performed her task with unflinching dedication.”

“I can see that,” Maddie said, confusedly. “But um… why?”

“Why did Lord Tony like rimjobs?” I asked.

“No, why would someone dedicate an entire slave only to analingus?” Maddie corrected.

I quietly turned to the gloomy slave girl, waiting for her to reply.

“It’s all I’m good for…” she muttered.

This conversation was going in circles. I fought back the urge to facepalm.

“Well… I guess that’s all my questions…” I said.

Lysander, Chloe, and Maddie agreed.

“Okay, I think we’re done, send in the next one please,” I told the maid.

 

---

 

Nephaline and Barrel Girl were both completely traumatized and nonverbal. We decided to skip their interviews. Dark elf maid number six, was the last maid we were interviewing.

This one looked almost normal. She had a somewhat slender figure, as was typical for elves, with lovely curves, and long white hair tied back in a loose ponytail. Her eyes were spirited, and filled with life, somehow not traumatized by her former horrifying situation. Yet, at the same time, she also looked absolutely terrified of us.

“Hi there,” I said.

“Hello Mistress,” she replied with a nervous smile.

“Name, Age, Class and Level?” Lysander asked.

“Um… Rylia, fifty-seven years old, and umm...” she hesitated.

We waited for her to continue.

“So if I tell you… can you maybe… not freak out and kill me… please?” she said nervously.

“Why would we kill you?” I asked.

“M-my class…” she mumbled nervously. “I… I had a bit of a past… it sounds a bit scary, but I’m not a threat I promise. I’m very super duper broken in now. Not even a shred of resistance left…”

“We won’t kill you,” Lysander said gently.

“Let’s hear it, I’m curious now.” I said.

“I’m serious… I’m a good girl. Perfectly loyal. Not gonna try anything stupid,” she stammered nervously.

“Okay…” I said, waiting for her to continue.

She sighed in resignation, “Level sixty-six [Shadowstalker Master Assassin].”

Holy shit, she was a tier four! An early tier four, but a tier four nonetheless.

“Wow…” I said.

“I’m not a threat… please.” she said nervously. “Seriously. I give up. I surrender. Ask me to kneel and kiss your boots, and you better believe I’ll be there as fast as you can blink. All I want… the only thing I want… is to just be a good girl for you, and not die.”

“Don’t murder anybody, and you’re fine in my books…” Maddie said.

“Don’t murder anybody without permission,” Lysander corrected.

“I’m surprised you didn’t try to escape yet,” I said. “These new collars don’t block your magic, do they Chloe?”

Chloe held up a green glowing healing hand. “No, Mistress.”

“Could I escape from you right now? Probably,” Rylia shrugged.

She slid a foot underneath her chair, touching the shadow beneath with her heel. In an instant, her body melted into nothingness, leaving the chair in front of us empty.

A whisper came from behind my ear, “I can teleport invisibly and soundlessly through shadows, disguise myself from magical tracking and appraisal skills, and even turn invisible, scentless, and soundless for a few hours at a time.”

I spun around, and saw absolutely nothing behind me.

“So yes, infiltration and exfiltration are sort of my specialties. By not blocking my skills or magic, you’ve made it quite easy to slip away from under your nose…” Rylia said.

She was once again sitting in her chair, perfectly visible as if nothing had happened.

“Impressive display,” Lysander commented.

“Thank you, Mistress,” Rylia replied.

“So… why are you still here then?” I asked.

“Well first of all, I have no idea what this collar does,” she explained. “I saw you command those monsters, I have to assume the same commands are built into my collar too. Tracking? Remote kill? I know these collars are pretty sophisticated. I’ve already tested it, and like my previous high end collar, I’m not able to think lethal thoughts about you four, though I’m able to consider the specifics of killing Lothelea for instance. It’s a subtle bit of mind control, most wouldn’t even notice it.”

Lothelea looked a bit uncomfortable. Staring at the master assassin nervously.

“Don’t worry Lothy-dear, I don’t actually want to kill you.” Rylia added, holding up her hands in surrender. “It’s just… I know I can if I wanted to. For my mistresses, I’m literally unable to conceive of killing them. Like… it just feels impossible and ridiculous to me. Like breathing a block of steel or eating the sun. And even though I know its mind control, I still can’t wrap my brain around it. I know it probably should be possible to kill you four, but for some reason I’m just certain it’s impossible. It’s quite a neat enchantment.”

“I guess it’s good to know you won’t be killing us in our sleep,” Maddie said nervously.

“Nope, and I wouldn’t want to even if it were possible. I might have considered killing Master Anthony, had I been able to give it proper thought. In retrospect, I’m glad he’s dead. But for you gals? I don’t get the same creepy feeling from you as I did from my previous master, and my intuition is pretty sharp. My Perception stat is in the high thirties.”

“Right,” I said.

“But, for the sake of argument, say I escape, and manage to slip out of a divinely crafted slave collar. What happens after? Where do I go? Do I try to hide in human territory when they’d likely send a tier four kill team of Royal Knights after me to hunt me down? Maybe I could escape into the corrupted wildlands and get raped to death? Perhaps I could survive the journey to another human controlled enclave... Oh wait, only two of them are without institutionalized demihuman slavery… and those ones just kill us all on sight. No… even for a fourth tier like me… the only alternative to slavery is death.”

“So your best option is to find a master or mistress that won’t mistreat you?” I guessed.

“No, even that’s asking too much… Go ahead, torture me, rape me, spit on me, degrade me… I’m no masochist, but if that’s what it takes to please you, then go ahead. All I want is to not die. We elves live a long time, you know, a thousand year natural lifespan and that’s before factoring in the effects of my higher level. Maybe in a century or two things will be better… Maybe demihumans won’t be slaves, maybe the Taint will finally be pushed back. As long as I’m alive, things can improve. That’s my hope at least… it’s what keeps me going. Sometimes it’s hard to stay hopeful though,” she said, with a tired smile.

“Well, we could probably use your skills,” Maddie said thoughtfully.

“Order me and I’ll obey but uuh… maybe I could make a small request?” she said nervously.

I gestured for her to go ahead.

“I’d rather not piss off too many humans. You start sending a dark elven [Shadowstalker Assassin] after people… especially important people… they’re gonna start looking for dark elven [Shadowstalker Assassins] as the culprit. We’re kind of infamous. Our skill set is pretty unique and we can pull of assassinations that many lesser assassin classes would find impossible. That makes it pretty obvious when one of us performs more than just the occasional isolated assassination. The lack of evidence we leave behind is a type of evidence of its own. So they’ll look around, and if you choose to keep me legally, guess where the slave registry will lead them… I don’t think there are many of us registered… We’re rarely taken alive.”

“Indeed, that would be a problem,” Lysander agreed.

“Right so uuh… setting aside my former career… I’m still a decent maid and exceptional sex toy. I’m also super gay, so by all means my dear Mistresses, sit on my face to your heart’s content, I’ve got tongue skills as fine as my blade skills, the sort that only come with age and practice. Give me a try, I’m definitely game for it. But that’s not all. There is literally no task too degrading for me to perform… Hell, I may be a lesbian, but tell me to suck a cock and I’ll do it gladly. I want to live, that’s all.”

“Well you’ll be nice and safe with us. We won’t kill or torture you. None of us are as cruel as that Tony fucker, or the patrons of his brothel. We can probably keep you on full time maid and part time cunnilingus duty? Though maybe we could use you as a hidden bodyguard as well… I don’t think we’ll get in as much trouble for defensive counter-assassinations,” I suggested.

“Yeah, I like that idea,” Maddie said.

“If that is what my most merciful Mistresses desire, then I shall perform my duties as a maid and cunt licker with diligence, and wield my blade in your defense, removing threats before you even see them,” Rylia nodded demurely.

“A combat maid… what a cliche…” Lysander muttered. I ignored her grumbling, because combat maids were awesome!

“Cool, I think that’s my questions for now.” I said.

The others agreed. We sent Rylia on her way.

“Well that’s the maids done… We’ve only got what… eighteen more slaves to go?” I said.

“Indeed,” Lysander replied.

I looked at Lothelea. “I never asked your age or class… Are you some sort of hidden badass too?”

“You don’t like my ass?” Lothelea asked nervously, staring down at her waist.

“A badass is term for someone who is powerful and dangerous,” Maddie explained.

“Oh… okay then…” she said a bit nervously. “I’m not a legendary [Shadowstalker Assassin] if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m a hundred and two years old, and a level twenty-four [Archivist]. I used to work in a library, copying books. I’m decent at mixing a cocktail, and keeping things organized, but with my civilian class, I’m useless in a fight. Um… so my ass is okay then?”

“Wow you’re… surprisingly old,” Maddie said, not bothering to hide her sudden discomfort.

Lothelea pouted at her, clearly hurt by the negative reaction. Elves were amazing, she was a century old but she still looked just like a girl in her late teens. Despite the eighty-year gap between them, I wouldn’t have been able to guess that she wasn’t the same age as Paintoy.

“I’m sure its lovely, but I haven’t actually looked at your ass all that closely.” I admitted.

Lothelea blushed purple, “Would you like me to… um…”

“Yes, by all means, show me,” I replied immediately, with a lewd grin.

Lothelea got up and spun around. With her ankles spread shoulder width, she bent at the hips and lifted the hem of her dress. She wore stockings with a garter belt, but no panties. I got a wonderful view of her excellent ass, and delicious little pussy.

“Approved,” I said.

“I concur,” Lysander agreed.

“Guys, she’s older than your grandma!” Maddie whined.

“And she had a fantastic ass too!” I said.

“Thank you, Mistress,” Lothelea said, straightening up again.

“You into girls, Lothelea?” I asked.

“I’m used to serving men, but… I’m not adverse to serving a woman as well. It would be… a pleasant change. Ask and I shall gladly obey,” she said coyly.

“Good to know,” I grinned.

“Eww Tyler, seriously,” Maddie scolded.

“Shut up and enjoy your mouse boy, slut,” I grumbled.

“I just might…” Maddie harrumphed.