Not at all

“Did it work? Am I different?” Lavorra asks, staring at her hands, which are still pale and freckled.

“It didn’t. Shit - shit we need to hide you!” Zeya squeaks in alarm, her soulful brown eyes full of panic.

Lavorra has no intention of being hidden, and she reaches for her shield, intending to make a fight of it however she can, even as she hears heavy footsteps on the threshold.

She turns about, shield in hand, and then doubles over in pain as a gauntlet crashes into her stomach - she wheezes as the air explodes from her lungs, her legs buckling.

Through swimming eyes she makes out a Daemonic visage: angry orange skin decorated with loops and studs, jagged teeth bared in a grin. She wobbles, barely able to breath as her shield is removed, and strong arms **** her to her knees.

She tries to push back as she catches her breath, but two of the soldiers have her by the arms and shoulders, holding her in place.

Their leader steps forward, and seizes Zeya by the chin, drawing her in and forcing her to look down at Lavorra. His other hand yanks down her top, cupping one large bare breast. “Zeyariel. Did you call for help? You know that’s not allowed.”

Zeya gasps, clearly fighting the sensation as her tit is groped and teased, orange fingers tight around her red throat. “N-no, Zhalk, you know I wouldn’t. She just turned up. She’s a - a mercenary. She’s expected back at her camp - you should just let her go.”

Lavorra feels a deep rush of affection for the Tiefling girl, mixed with indignation: she’s not going to leave without her.

But Zhalk laughs cruelly, joined by the two that hold Lavorra in submission. One of them forces Lavorra’s head up by the chin, looking her over.

“Mercenaries,” he begins, “aren’t this pretty. And don’t have tits like that. And they definitely don’t have Holy Icons.”

He eyes her amulet warily, as if it’ll sting him.

If only.

“That’s right.” Lavorra croaks, glaring at him. “And there’s twenty more Paladins camped a mile away. So you better let me go, and drop whatever spell you have on this place, or-“

She yelps as he slaps her, his hand thankfully unarmoured.

“Easy Kurn.” Zhalk remarks lazily, “Don’t break anything. We need more Elves, remember.”

“Do you though?” Zeya purrs shakily. She reaches her arm back to loop it around Zhalk’s neck, her tail swishing as she rubs her round backside against his crotch. “You’d only have to take her all the way back. When you could just kick her out now, and have me all to yourselves.”

“Shut up Hellspawn.” He grunts, giving her a perfunctory slap on the rear, before shoving her to the side. “She’ll be off to the Fleshworks, that’s right. But not before I test her out.”

He takes a step forward, unbuckling his belt. The intent is clear, and combined with the foreboding mention of the Fleshworks, Lavorra feels an icy fear grip her.

“Wait, Zhalk. She’s right.” The fourth soldier, who has not spoken till now, steps in between his leader and Lavorra. He has a young, concerned voice, and one broken horn. “It’s more trouble than it’s worth. Especially if she does have more Paladins nearby.”

“Get out of the way, Skrain. I’ve spent two nights hauling whores in and out of the Fleshworks and not gotten a scrap. I’m getting my cock sucked by the Elf, and that’s final.”

But the younger Daemonspawn stands his ground, and Lavorra watches in astonishment as she’s defended by such an unlikely ally. “This has to stop, Zhalk. We’re made for war, not this. It’s wrong. I can’t let you keep doing this.”

There is a note of anguish in his voice, which carries through to a yell of pain, as the Daemonspawn named Kurn kicks Skrain’s knee out from under him, sending him crumpling to the ground.

Lavorra finds herself gripped tight in a chokehold, her legs kicking and scrabbling, as Kurn and Zhalk set to on their fellow soldier, dragging him into a corner, beating and kicking him until he lies still.

Lavorra watches Zhalk return, panting, barely able to see him as her vision clouds with black spots. Then her captor’s grip lessens, and she sees Zhalk’s face bob before her as he crouches.

“I’m going to have your mouth now, Elf. I don’t care if you suck it or not, to be honest. I’m going to use you, and if you try to fight, or you bite, then we’ll beat on the Tiefling like we did your hero over there.” He straightens up, and Lavorra is released, gasping as she slowly looks up at him.

Behind her, she can hear Zeya groan as she’s manhandled by the other two.