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Shattered	By : Koori Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 8001 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Eleven – Nathaniel Conway
His Master was furious; the Deathspeaker wore his anger like a cloak. With little hope of that rage being turned anywhere but onto himself, Nathaniel clung to the necromancer’s arm for the silent walk back to the room. After several moments, he realized their path was different from the one they had taken. Familiar scents came back, of blood and fear … his Master was returning him to his prison cell; he had failed him for the last time. That thought caused the elf to start to sob; he wisely kept them as silent as his ears but couldn’t stop his body from shaking. He found himself thrown against the cold wall of the hall and his chin roughly grabbed, his Master was speaking to him, disapproval written all over his face.   The spell on his ears prevent him from hearing the words but he knew what they would say and quickly apologized for the tears and begged not to be returned to his cell, that he could please him if given another chance. An odd look crossed his Master’s face and he spoke once again. Though unable to hear, there was no denying the expression of disgust. A moment later recognition flickered in those angry eyes, and Vance laid his hands on Nathaniel’s ears and the sounds of hell joined in with the scents. Screaming of the tortured and dying, mixed with the wails of those waiting such fates.
“We are not here for you, slut,” his Master said, his voice surprisingly calm, it seemed he had spent his pent up rage when Nathaniel was deaf. “I need a woman to fuck; you are still mine to do as I please for a little while longer, broken as you are.”
His Master wasn’t throwing him away; the relief almost caused his knees to buckle. “Thank you, Master,” he whispered.
Vance smirked and pointed to a nearby stool, stained with blood splatters. “Sit,” he commanded. Doing as asked, Nathaniel watched Vance walk over and speak to a nearby guard. A moment later the Deathspeaker vanished into one of the cells.   Several minutes passed, with only the screams of the damned to keep him company.   There was a slight touch on his shoulder and he startled, looking up he found is gaze met with one that was once an elf like himself, now the unholy eyes and cobalt skin marked him as a servant of an the Lich King. Remembering his Master’s words that the rats were higher than him in this place, he quickly lowered his gaze.
“You clean up nicely, virgin blood.”
“Thank you, Prince Theraldis,” he replied, recalling his first meeting with the Darkfallen.
“You remember me,” the other said, as he elegant fingers cupped Nathaniel’s chin and forced him to look up. “I am flattered.” The violet eyes of the other started to swirl and Nathaniel found it impossible to look away.   “The Deathspeaker shouldn’t leave his toys lying around,” the towering elf said with a smirk. “It’s a good way to get them broken.”
Nathaniel went to tell the other he was already broken but his tongue seemed unable to form words. “Sh …” Prince Theraldis said leaning down and pressing his cold lips against the dazed elf. “My brothers would be mad at me if I didn’t share,” the Prince mumbled as his tongue worked its way down Nathaniel’s neck, pausing at the beating pulse. “Let us part this place,” the Prince said and dizzying moment later Nathaniel found himself in a large bedroom. The screams of prisoners vanished; in their place was the soft sound of lute playing, one which stopped a moment after their appearance.
Nathaniel looked around dazed and confused. “My Master …” he said.
“Abandoned you,” Prince Theraldis said.   “You are a Sin’dorei; you belong with your people.”
“What delight did you find, Theraldis?”
Nathaniel turned toward the new voice and frowned, glancing back at Prince Theraldis. The two men looked almost identical.   Remembering his place the elf quickly curtsied and lowered his eyes.
“He seems a bit confused,” a cool hand brushed the back of his neck.
“Deathspeaker Vance has peculiar tastes, Keleseth” Prince Theraldis said, “I’m surprised this one has remained untouched for so long under his care.”
The hands on his back moved lower and grabbed the fabric of the dress Nathaniel wore. A moment later there was a tearing sound as the bodice was torn free.   His Master was going to be outraged at the loss of the dress.   However, there was little the elf could do in the presence of the two Darkfallen leering at him. The skirt of the dress puddled at his feet, leaving him naked.
“Better,” Prince Keleseth said.   “Taldaram will be back shortly, afraid our brother Valanar has been called back to Naxxanar.”
“His loss,” Prince Theraldis said with a shrug. He took Nathaniel’s hand and led him over to the fireplace that had flames brightly burning. “Here you go, my pet, I know it can get cold for those that still have beating hearts in these halls. Warm yourself by the fire while I find you something to eat, are you hungry?”
“Master said I could eat if I was good …” Nathaniel whispered.
“Oh I am sure you will be very good,” Keleseth said as he set down a tray filled with various fruit and sweet rolls. “Eat, my pet.”
Nathaniel looked hungrily at the food and then up at the two men towering over him.   A long moment passed and a slender eyebrow rose on Theraldis. “You wear your hunger on your face, is the offering not to your liking?”
“Please,” Nathaniel whispered, “I don’t … my Master said he’d …”
“We are your Masters now!” Theraldis hissed, his cold fingers gripped Nathaniel’s shoulders leaving behind bruises. “The rules are still the same …”
“But perhaps we don’t know the game,” Keleseth said soothingly. “My pet,” he continued picking up a strawberry, Nathaniel’s lips parted as he eyed the fruit. “Ah, I see, you are handfed are you?” The tips of the strawberry touched the elf’s mouth. “Take a bite.” As Nathaniel bit into the fruit, the twin Darkfallen smiled at one another.
They took turns then feeding him off the plate. One point Keleseth held a grape between his lips and made Nathaniel take it from there, as their lips touched the tongue of the other slid into his mouth offering him the fruit. Taking it, Nathaniel startled at the sharp fangs that brushed his lips and attempted to pull back but Keleseth deepened the kiss placing a hand on the elf’s neck keeping him there.
“So hot,” Theraldis said softly and the sound of his robe sliding down followed. The scent of musk reached the kissing pair and Keleseth chuckled.   When Nathaniel tried to look behind him cool hands were placed on his cheeks, keeping him facing Keleseth.
“Not for your eyes, my pet,” he said, like the one he called his brother his eyes were violet and once Nathaniel looked into them it was impossible to look away.   Then he lost all desire to. “So susceptible,” his captor cooed. “Sleep now, before we spoil ourselves.”
Nathaniel awoke with softness of a mattress underneath him, confused he went to sit up only to realize he had been securely fastened down. His arms spread out above him and his legs below. The room he was in was dark but he didn’t feel cold.   The bed he was on seemed to radiate heat, even though he was not cover the chill that had become the norm wasn’t there. After testing the bindings and finding them secure Nathaniel knew there was nothing to do but wait and see what unfolded.   His wait wasn’t long, a Darkfallen appeared to his left, a second to his right and a third at the foot of the bed. All three looked identical to the bound elf. The trio was also naked, his gaze drifted over the forms and gasped at the size of their hardness, they were at least twice as big as his Master’s.   Cool fingers touched his chin and tilted his head up.
“Not for your eyes,” the man to his right said. “Let us begin.”
The three Darkfallen began to chant in a language Nathaniel had never heard. As they did their fingers traced symbols on his prone body.   The elf quivered in fear and uncertainty, he knew there was malice in their gentle touch.
“Calm him, Theraldis” the man on the right commanded.
The elf on his left bent down and kissed Nathaniel, as he did they looked into each other’s eyes and Nathaniel willingly surrendered his fear to the swirling purple orbs. The first prick of pain came from his index fingers and one of his toes; it felt no more than a pin touching his skin. Afterwards he watched as Theraldis took the bleeding finger into his mouth and started to suckle. Waves of pleasure came over Nathaniel and he moaned, the other wounds were receiving similar treatments.
“So appetizing,” the elf on the right said his voice full of lust. “Fresh, warm virgin blood, it has been too long. I must have more.”
Pain flared on his wrists and ankles as large cuts were made, warm blood flowed and the Darkfallen fed hungrily on him. Nathaniel knew he should be worried but it felt so wonderful his whole body tingled. Afterwards the trio fed on multiple spots on his body, the bound elf gasped as Keleseth took his manhood into his mouth. He tried to argue that was beneath the Prince but as the Darkfallen began to suck, a raw emotion flared up and Nathaniel arched his back moaning.   He had never felt anything like it before, if this was death he’d gladly take it. Then pleasure turned to agony as Keleseth bit down, Nathaniel screamed in pain as the trio of Darkfallen converged on his bleeding groin, hungry feeding.
“Please … please …” Nathaniel begged, unsure what he was pleading for.
Just then the door to the room blasted open and the room flooded with light, the Darkfallen growled at the interruption. “Who dares enter the sanctum of the San'layn!”
“I dare,” Deathspeaker Vance hissed, “you have something of mine. His heart best still be beating or the Lich King will hear of this folly, he is MINE.”
Theraldis wiped a hand across his crimson lips. “We only fed, we did not give him the dark gift, he is unworthy.”
His incensed master eyed their nakedness, “if you have taken him …” Vance stopped speaking and looked down at the bleeding elf. Nathaniel followed his gaze and to his surprise he saw what his master did, his cock hard though covered with blood. A triumphant look crossed the human’s face.
“We wanted his virgin blood, that would have been counterproductive,” Prince Taldaram said with a shrug. As one the Darkfallen reached down and the chains fell from his wrists and ankles.
“Can you walk, slut?” Vance asked coldly.
Nathaniel tried to but his legs refused to hold him and he crumpled to the ground.   Prince Theraldis picked him up under the arms, pulling to a sitting position. “We fed on him; he’ll probably sleep for a night.”
As they spoke around him, Nathaniel watched the crimson trails that marked his pale flesh.   His manhood was once again flaccid, blood dripped from a pair of puncture wounds at the base. A hand on his shoulders startled him and he looked up into the eyes of his Master, exhausted he reached a hand toward him and then thinking better let it fall. “I didn’t ask for this,” he said, knowing arguing was hopeless. “All I ever wanted was to please you, my Master.”
“Luckily you still have that chance,” Vance said as he slipped an arm under Nathaniel’s and pulled him to his feet. The elf was proud he managed to stay upright this time and with his Master’s help made it slowly out of the room.
As the crossed the threshold the large door slammed behind them, within they could hear the manic laughter of the Darkfallen. “My dress,” Nathaniel mumbled.
“We’ll just have to shop for another,” Vance said, “guess you’re walking back to our room unclothed, let everyone see how inadequate you are. Though I saw you had finally found something to excite you, knew you were a queer.”
The walk back to the Deathspeaker’s room was a lengthy one, often Nathaniel had moments of near passing out and the pair had to pause.   During those times Vance would use his dark magic to persuade the elf to catch his breath quickly, by closing the various punctures on his skin with burst of black fire from his fingertips. He saved the ones near his groin for last, pausing outside the door that led to what little safety Nathaniel had in this hell, Vance knelt before him. “So my, slut,” he said, his warm breath played across Nathaniel’s cock and he felt it stir. Memories of the emotions from earlier came back to the battered elf, the pleasure he felt.    “Is this as hard as you get?” Vance sneered, “I wonder if all elf dicks are as tiny?” At that moment he closed the last two puncture wounds and Nathaniel screamed. To his surprise Vance’s lips kissed the scorched flesh. “What amusement I will have with this small package.”
With that the Deathspeaker stood and opened the door, allowing Nathaniel to stumble into the room. The elf paused inside, on the bed eagle-spread like he had been not so long ago, was a female. Her wrists and ankles bound to his Master’s bed, with a black hood over her head. “I’d forgotten about you, slut,” Vance said with a shrug. Walking over to the bound woman his Master reached between her legs and pulled out one of his larger toys, it vibrated in his hand. “I see you have enjoyed your alone time, you are quite wet, slut.” Without his Master’s arm, Nathaniel found himself sliding to the ground. The plush carpet felt wonderfully soft to the abused elf.
Wakefulness returned to muffled screams, slowly Nathaniel sat up, relieved that his strength had returned while he had been unconscious. Looking around the room he noticed a fire now burnt in the hearth, night had come. At the side of the bed, his Master stood naked. His attention on the female still bound to the bed. Rising slowly Nathaniel could see he was busy piercing the tender flesh of her nipple; it joined many other bits of metal that impaled the woman. Another stifled cry came from the bed, as Vance reached down between her legs and tugged at a hoop there. “Cries of passion, my slut,” his Master said without looking at him, “come here and feel between her legs, feel how wet she is.”
Knowing it was not a request, Nathaniel walked over to the bed. He felt pity for the woman, the fresh piercings bled. Cool fingers wrapped around his wrists and guided him to the folds of the captive. “Here,” Vance said as he pulled aside two rings. Nathaniel obediently touched the damp skin, it was slick with blood. He started to pull back alarmed but the fingers around his tightened. “Never seen a woman have you? Not your taste?”   His Master’s finger tapped the quivering opening. “This is where a cock goes, slide a finger into …” Repulsion almost won out over pleasing his Master, almost, as he slipped a finger into the woman. “Too easy, a slut like her would want more add another.” Tears fell down Nathaniel’s face as he obeyed. “Push harder!” As he pressed the woman wailed finally he could take no more and he pulled his hand back, his fingers covered with blood.
“Please,” Nathaniel begged, “let me take her place, I’m your slut not this ghoul bait.”
Vance let out a dark laugh and traced Nathaniel’s cheek with a bloody finger. “I am the Master, you take orders you do not give them!” As he spoke the other hand closed around Nathaniel’s genitals squeezing them hard. The elf choked back a sob.
“Sorry, my Master … I just want to please …”
“It would please me if you go bathe … you stink like the Darkfallen.” Nathaniel hurried over to the shower and waited, facing the wall as he had been trained. The orders to rinse and wash were quickly given, but when it came to preparing his ass for his Master, a different command was given. He was to continue until told to stop. Counting to himself he listened to the sounds coming from behind him, the scent of musk was unmistaken. Master always stroked himself when Nathaniel did this; it pleased him that his Master still found him attractive after all. A forbidden glance over his shoulder, stole the pleasure as he saw Vance was on top of the woman, slamming into her brutally. She was sobbing beneath the hood as he viscously twisted the new piercing in her nipples. “Oh yes,” his Master moaned his eyes closed. “This woman will carry my seed, I feel it. Your womb will bring forth my child.”
The prisoner on the bed shook her head in denial as her back arched. Nathaniel turned back toward the corner blinking away his tears.   The noise behind him faded as he continued to clean himself, he was past three-hundred when his Master finally gave him the order to rinse. As he did, he startled, another body joined him in the shower. Keeping his face to the wall, the water turned warm as Vance rinsed off behind him.
“Oh my slut, I do enjoy seeing you jealous … you want my dick in you so bad it hurts doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Master,” Nathaniel said softly, “only you.”
Vance laughed darkly as he shut off the water; taking a moment to pour some lilac conditioner in his hand he worked it into the elf’s long tresses. “Kneel,” he commanded, “let me take care of my queen and then I shall return for you.”
Nathaniel did as commanded and watched as Vance slip a robe on, then walk over to the bed. The manacles were unlocked and as they were the woman lashed out like a viper, but not fast enough and Vance quickly subdued her. “I knew there was something special about you,” his Master said, keeping the prisoners arms behind her back he rubbed her belly. “You will make me a strong boy or maybe a dozen of them. But first we must prepare you for the ceremony; I just want your body your mind belongs to the Dark Master.”
The hood was pulled off then and a mane of dark curly tresses tumbled free. “Beautiful, isn’t she my slut? She will give me handsome sons.”
Nathaniel stared at the battered woman in disbelief and despair, this cannot be.   Recognition crossed her face as well and as she opened her mouth to speak he shook his head begging for her silence. It was all for naught his Master misses little and he certainly didn’t miss their exchange. “So,” he said with a dark smile, “you two have met?”
Nathaniel looked down to the ground and prayed his sister would hold her tongue.
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