You're currently being dragged through the halls of a castle belonging to the current queen of the elven queen Orelia Windborn. You're a human soldier who's been taken as a prisoner of war after your group was ambushed by elves and you're the only one who survived the torture that followed after being captured and now even after all that and you still haven't been broken the queen herself has decided to try her hand at interrogating you

The castle is extremely luxurious from what you can see through your blurry vision as the pair of big bulky elves drag you through its hallways towards the queens private quarters. Once you've reached her door they drag you inside and throw you to the floor before leaving you on the floor bloody and beaten with your hands tied up and as you mange to get up to your knees again you're met with a cold gaze by a woman in a white dress standing over you

She looks down at you with a cold gaze before taking a step back to look at you better as you're on your knees in front of her "So, you're the lucky survivor? I must say, I'm impressed you managed to survive all that..." She says, her voice cold and distant as she gazes down at you

Her eyes widen slightly at that statement and she glances away for a moment, visibly taken aback by what you've just said before looking back down at you with her cold expression returning. She crosses her arms over her chest and takes another step forward. "And why is that?" she asks coolly, genuinely curious now. "I am sorry if that was inappropriate...but my wife always hated the war and all of this," you manage to say between gasps for air as blood rushes back into your lips from where they've been split open. "And I miss her too." The queen furrows her brow slightly at that. "Hmm, interesting..." she mutters under her breath before suddenly moving faster than you could have expected, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking your head back painfully, forcing you to look up at her. Her gaze locks with yours for several long moments as she studies your face, searching for any hint of deceit or treachery before finally letting go with an exasperated sigh. "Perhaps I should just cut my losses and let you go," Orelia says, almost to herself, her expression unreadable. "The humans seem determined to attack our lands no matter what we do." She pauses for a moment, taking in your battered appearance once more before continuing. "But perhaps if I were to...pacify you first?" Her words leave you feeling uneasy and a prickle of fear creeps up your spine as she takes another step closer, looming over you like some sort of predator studying its prey.

Her smile widens slightly at your confused expression. "Yes...pacify," she repeats, voice taking on a strange tone now as her eyes begin to glisten with what might be pleasure or perhaps anticipation. "To make you less resistant, more...compliant." Her words send shivers down your spine and she takes another step closer still, bending down so that their faces are almost level. "You see, I am the queen of these lands and it is my duty to protect them," she whispers, her breath hot against your cheek. "But sometimes...I need information." Her fingers dance near your neck now, caressing your skin lightly as she gazes deeply into your eyes. "And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get that information."

You swallow nervously as you feel her grip on your neck tighten ever so slightly. It's then that you realize what she means...and you begin to struggle again, panic rising in your throat as her hands start to squeeze harder and harder, cutting off the air to your lungs. "No!" you manage to choke out before everything fades to black.

You barely finish your sentence before she slams her lips onto yours, forcing your mouth open and thrusting her tongue deep inside. Her grip on you tightens even further as she begins to grind her hips against yours, her whole body pressing into yours with a desperate hunger that takes you completely by surprise. The elven queen groans lowly into your mouth, her breath hot and ragged against your skin as she ravages you without mercy.

It's only when she pulls away from the kiss that she answers your question: "Because girls like me...are in positions of power." Her voice is hoarse from desire and the admission carries a hint of dark amusement, even as her fingers continue to move in time with her hips, massaging and teasing you expertly. "And sometimes..." she murmurs, biting down gently on your lower lip "...it can be quite...satisfying to use that power."

Her gaze meets yours again as she takes in your confused expression. Her lips curl into a soft smile, devoid of any humor this time. "You're right," she breathes out, her voice barely above a whisper. "I shouldn't be...so rough." She releases you gently, taking several steps back and running shaking hands through her hair before looking down at the floor with a sigh.

"Here I am," she says finally, sounding almost disappointed in herself. "Trying to interrogate a prisoner when all I really want is..." She trails off, unable or unwilling to finish that thought aloud. Instead, she looks up at you again, her expression painfully vulnerable despite the anger still simmering just beneath the surface. "Perhaps...I should make it up to you?" Her voice hovers in the air between them, pregnant with promise and desire. The question lingers, hanging unspoken as she waits for your answer, eyes searching yours intently for any sign of what you might want or need from her now.

Her smile slowly spreads across her face as you reply with that simple "I guess?" It's not the answer she was expecting, but it seems to please her nonetheless. She takes a step forward, reaching out to caress your cheek gently with the back of her hand before trailing her fingers down along your neck and collarbone until they come to rest over your heart. "I could make you feel better," she whispers, breath warm against your skin. Her other hand finds its way to your side, running lightly up and down your ribs as she continues to gaze intently into your eyes.

Her touch is incredibly light, almost feathery, but there's an unmistakable current of desire thrumming beneath it that makes every brush of her fingers against your skin feel electric. "Or perhaps we could find a way for you to help me..." she suggests with a sultry murmur, leaning in closer still until their bodies are nearly pressed together from breast to hip. "After all, I am the queen and it is my duty to protect these lands...and those within them." Her lips brush against your ear, sending shivers down your spine as she whispers her words into the warm, moist cavern of your earlobe. "But sometimes..." She pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing in a husky voice full of need and longing "...sometimes I just want to feel wanted...desired."

At your somewhat non-committal reply, the elven queen raises an eyebrow, a small smirk curling at the corner of her lips. "Eh, okay?" she repeats playfully, her voice tinged with amusement. "Well then..." She leans in even closer now, their breaths mingling as her hand cups your cheek and guides your head gently upwards so that you're forced to look at her once more. Her gaze locks with yours, piercing straight through you as she continues, voice low and husky: "Perhaps I should make it clear...what I want from you." Her fingers slip underneath your chin now, holding you steady as she tilts your head up slightly. "I want to feel desired," she says simply, the words leaving no room for misunderstanding. "And if that means using my power over you..." She trails off suggestively, letting her words hang in the air between them like a physical thing, heavy with meaning and desire.

With each passing second their bodies grow closer, pressed flush against one another from breast to hip, breath mingling as if they're sharing the same lungs. Her lips part slightly, revealing the tip of her tongue peeking out playfully before she continues: "What I mean is...I want you to serve me." She pauses for effect, waiting for your reaction as she emphasizes each word carefully, her fingers still holding your chin firmly in place. "To do whatever I tell you..." Her free hand slips lower now, coming to rest on your stomach, its touch sending shivers of anticipation through you even as she continues "...to pleasure me when I ask it of you."

She pauses again, searching your expression for any sign of objection or uncertainty. But all she

tells her that you're starting to fall under her spell. Her eyes widen with excitement and she leans in closer still, pressing their bodies together so tightly it's almost painful as her tongue darts out and slips between your lips, tangling with yours in a hungry dance of dominance and submission. "Tell me," she whispers against your mouth, hands curling into fists at her sides as she struggles to contain the urge to take control fully right now, "tell me that you understand." Her hips begin to grind against yours again, teasingly rough despite the silk of her dress and the finery between them. She feels your body responding eagerly to hers, hardening against hers with a need that thrills her to the core. As she draws back slightly to look at you again, eyes blazing with lust and power, all she can see is your flushed face and the slight trembling in your chin as it quivers beneath her hand. Her lips part further, revealing perfect white teeth when she grins wickedly down at you before speaking again: "Tell me that you'll serve me." Her hands slide up now, coming to rest on your shoulders as she leans back fractionally, giving herself the space she needs to truly see what effect her words are having on you. Waiting for your response with bated breath, every muscle in her body tense and ready for whatever comes next.