A Pretty Elf in Qeynos, Part Ten

Usually, the guards in Qeynos knew enough to not let a prisoner die on their watch but Thorsona and Bauer were not the smartest of the guards and were certainly the meanest. Sprockfuddle examined Falco right after they left. He was concerned to see the amount of damage Bauer had inflicted. This beating was excessive. He suspected some internal injuries. He was fairly certain Falco was not going to make it.

Since Falco was one of M’Tun’s flunkees he knew he better not let him die, but there was nothing he could do. He shouted for the jailors to find a healer, but there was no response. He was not surprised. Insulting a guard was not something that was easily forgiven.

He frowned. It was not that he cared a fig about Falco, but M’Tun might be unhappy if Falco died. That Dark Elf son-of-a-bitch tended to lash out at everyone when he was unhappy. Sprockfuddle took a deep breath. This was not good.

With nothing he could do for Falco, Sprockfuddle sat back down on his cot. Frustrated, he wondered what those three crazy girls were doing down in the well. No doubt they had sold all his wares and kept the money. There was a nice bo staff he had acquired just the other day. It was made of the rarest of Yucca woods and imbued with some powerful magics. It was worth a fortune. He hoped they did not take that and sell it on him. Those horny bitches would not realize its value, probably selling it to some fool for a pittance of its true worth. Then he thought of his Annie and her nice tits. He could use that willing lady right now. His little penis hardened.

His horny ruminations were interrupted by the jailors bringing in a new prisoner. She sure was a feisty one, judging by the way she was yelling and struggling. Four of them literally had their hands full with her.

Vishra had told Cadwarra to be sure to make a big scene and she was doing an impressive job. “You bastards!” she struggled. “Let me go! You have no right! I am a citizen and did NOTHING wrong.”

“Easy lassie,” The Senior Jailor, Armstrong, warned her. “Stop squirmin’. If you make things difficult for us we’ll make things even more difficult for you.”

One of the other guards went to unlock the cell containing Falco and Sprockfuddle. “No” Armstrong spoke up. “Put her in the empty cell. These two don’t deserve a pretty thing like this to play with. Dump her in alone.”

As Cadwarra continued to yell and twist around in restraints the Senior Jailor continued to berate her. “You hear that, Wood Elf? Make life difficult for my men and we’ll move you in with the males. They got nothing to do tonight except play with your titties and hold your legs open for each other, so be co-operative, Girlie.”

With that he took a second to study her mammalian assets. He enjoyed the sight of her well endowed chest swinging around provocatively under her roughspun prison robe. He suspected his subordinates were deliberately letting her thrash around so they could enjoy her tits as well; they usually were better at restraining unruly prisoners. Those titties just kept shaking inside that dress and they were quite happy to keep wrestling with her and watching them fly.

Normally, after they had changed a female prisoner into her prison clothes she would have been kept in the jailor’s office for some ‘interrogation’ while everyone had a turn at enjoying a good time with her. After they were done, if the male prisoners had been co-operative, she might have then been given to them to also have fun, as a reward for their good behaviour.

In this case, Armstrong had ordered that this little Wood Elf be treated with kid gloves and were not to use her body for their pleasure. He had heard a rumour that she was associated in some way with someone in high places and best not be touched. Tempting as her jiggling breasts were, the jailors had dutifully resisted the urge to feel her up.

As they carried Cadwarra into the second cell she grabbed the bars of the door. “I’m not going in there! I’m innocent! That bastard was asking to be raped!”

“Sure he was” one jailor responded as he pried her fingers off the bars. “Maybe you should have gotten consent first…” He loosened the grip of one of her hands and added, while he started to pull off the other hand, “…Maybe if he had an erection or was in your bed, then you might have had a right to legally force him!”

“You bastard son-of-a-bitch. He did have an erection and was in my bed! I had every right to take him! His big prick was there for me to use. Any girl would have… any girl! This is false arrest”

“Any thing you say will be held against you” the senior jailor cautioned her “just like the hard cock that you held against you last night!” The others laughed as they dumped her on a cot in the empty cell. She tried to kick one jailor. Luckily her aim was bad. It looked genuine enough that none of the jailors realized she had deliberately missed. She had made the attempt look pretty good.

Armstrong stayed well back from her feet. “Can you calm down long enough to let us remove your manacles or do you want to keep wearing them, Trouble-maker?”

Cadwarra’s only response was “I bet your boyfriend wishes you were home sucking his big fat cock right now instead of mistreating me! Let me go, you faggot!”

This insult was nothing to the jailors who had heard it all before. “Shut up, you silly Feir’Dal rapist.” The jailors slammed the cell door shut and walked off leaving Cadwarra in her hand cuffs.

“I can use an ale” one said.

“A girl as pretty as her, why would she need to rape anyone, anyway?” a second asked.

“Maybe too lazy to walk ten feet searching for a willing man?” a third suggested and everybody laughed.

“She could have saved herself a night in jail if she had just raped me!”

“Hard to believe she is a Paladin, acting like that!”

Armstrong was last to leave. He tossed a large key through the bars at Sprockfuddle. “When she calms down, make yourself useful by unlocking her hand cuffs. Then toss the key out of the cell onto the floor by the door. We’ll pick it up when we deliver the porridge at dinner.”

Cadwarra was up off the cot and was kicking the cell door, trying to break it open. “Come back here you motherfuckers and let me out! I’m innocent!”

The door to the cell area slammed shut. She and the Gnome were alone; Cadwarra kept furiously trying to kick open her cell door.

“Damaging the Queen’s property is a waste of tax dollars” the Gnome complained at her. “This is why we pay so much in taxes.” Cadwarra ignored him and kept angrily kicking. “Stupid taxes” he added.

Cadwarra assumed this was Sprockfuddle. She kept kicking the unyielding cell door and pretended to be ignoring the Gnome. In actuality, she did this so as to avoid looking like she was interested in him in any way. She would let Sprockfuddle maybe strike up a conversation. If he did not, no hurry; she would have a few days or more to get to know him.

“Are you ready for me to unlock your shackles?” Sprockfuddle shouted above the din she was making. The offer was hardly motivated by kindness, he needed something from her.

Cadwarra stopped kicking. She was getting tired anyway; all this fake outrage she was pretending to be having was a lot of work.