Elf Slave Novels & Stories

That is what her mistress always tells her. She has always wished to be bought by someone like Mr Charles, Emily master. A noble and righteous man who got Emily because his wife was barren, to give birth, he has to take a new wife but he loves his wife deeply so he got a slave instead. And since they brought in Emily, they started treating her like family, it is hard to say if Emily was a slave once. She want a master like that, but she could only wish. Her fate depends on today's auction, whoever she gets sold to. But what is even more worst than getting sold is not getting sold.

"I don't want to be their slave." I don't tell her about the other stories I'd heard about the barbarians, like how they would sell their slave to other men to bed, after they grew tired of their own, how they would rape a slave if she did not submit willingly, and how sometimes barbarians would put their women on display in horrid public events. I'm determined to get us out alive and free, and I'm determined to find Cordell again. I want to see his red-brown hair, bright green eyes, and a sunny smile. I want to hear him laugh and feel his rose-petal lips on my skin when he kisses

Elena took a long sigh and turned again and said "I am Elena, a slave here" "slave?" He asked in confusion because after Ashton became a king, he made all the slaves into working maids and servants with a regular salary, and no one is allowed to even call themself slaves, so he asked again "when did you come here? and... who is your master?".

Eli was quite angry. "Your Madam is indeed a kindhearted person, but we are here to work. If you don't like your job, you may leave and go somewhere else to work. A Country has abolished slavery policy a long time ago, and there is no such thing as servants or masters here," Eli said with a smile. Her smile was solely to express her kindness. "A job?" The maid smiled in disdain and said sarcastically, "Your job is really a dream job." Eli was speechless.

"Talk to me, Eliyah. It will help you ease your pain. And maybe I'll understand you better too." He released a breath. "You want to listen to my story? A slave's? Won't that be a huge waste of time?" "Let me be the judge of that." I smiled. "I'm actually from the Slave Island." What the hell? Slave Island? He must have seen the confusion is on my face. "It's one of the islands of Ovzdusia. There, the slaves are bred. They stay with their birth-givers till they are five and then they are taken away from their 'homes'."

“Let`s hope it won`t get to that, Mastermind.” A wise man once asked, “What would they write about my grave? A free man born as a king, and died as a slave?” They say a slave is a person who is legally owned by another person and is forced to work for them by any means. But with us, people, we illegally make people our slaves by what we benefit from them. Treating them like cookie-cutter crap. But what should we, as slaves, do? We should benefit as they do. That’s 50/50. However, I had to do what I had to do.

Real. “Elina,” I breathed out. I barely heard my own voice. But then I had to remind myself. I didn’t bring her here to protect her, I brought her here to belong..to me. I’ll break her, rebuild her, and she’ll wear my very name like a collar. My pretty little slave.

I put my hands around her from behind, kissing her head. “Just take your time, baby.” “When I got there, I was a good slave. I did everything. I never screamed. Every time he touched me, a piece of me died. After a few weeks, we signed a contract. I was the only slave that had survived his torture longer than a few weeks. All the rest had died. He told the families they received money, and they gave the bodies a real burial. But I am starting to think that wasn’t true. As a year went past, we signed another contract, and that was when the real shit begun. Ethan, I died a total of one thousand eight hundred and twenty-two times.”

Hundreds of Lucifers together make one Evinrude. As I stepped into his mansion, he tied a belt on my neck. He and his kids used to treat me worse than any dog would be treated. I don't think so there is any word, invented lower than the word slave. I was given dog's pots to eat and drink water. They used to give me their leftovers to eat. I bared everything. But then one day, his sons told me lick their feet like a dog and I denied. As a result, they tied me in their garden and they all peed on me. And their mother filmed it all like it was a comedy show or something. That's when I lost it. I knew the only way I had left was to fight for myself.

He hadn't heard him or sensed him come so close and ice froze his spine. "I am a God. I am served. If you do as I bid your reward will consequently be far greater than what any pesky spirit can provide. If you don't then I will hasten your death." "I wasn't complaining!" Kyle scooted back "this is just strange, OK? We don't do slaves anymore, the police do you for it! Human rights and all that crap." "Slaves in my day were well kept," Babi snorted "it meant food and a home and a lot preferred it. Better if you had a soft master. Mine worked, they worked hard and toiled furiously, but they were given more than they needed."