Villesti and Vixella prepare their escape

Villesti and Vixella are exceptionally cute dark elf tyrants. Blessed with baby-faces and petite bodies, their line has always retained a youthful look more so than the rest of their kin. This would be all the truer if they ever went out without their bra padding, of course.

Often times, outsiders are surprised to learn that Villesti is in fact the mother of Vixella, first of all because they appear to be the same age, and secondly because it's the daughter who frequently needs to get strict with the mother.

"This is stupid," whines Villesti. "I'm a matron, dammit! I should be wearing my regalia!"

"You'll get your regalia back when we're not on the run!" snaps Vixella. "For now, just stop whining and be glad you haven't been undressed and humiliated in front of the whole city the way every other female has."

The two noble women are standing on the rocky river bank, waiting as the orc smuggler they hired loads her boat. The orc, a murky-green number with a strikingly pretty face and a well sculpted body, smirks at the dark elves. Both of them are dressed in their workout clothes, the only clothes they owned that made them look like they might not be highborn. Their tiny spandex shorts were riding up their asses. Their sports bras were threatening to give people a peek of their large falsies. Still, it was better than the fate of all their peers, plucked of their finery and spanked in full view of the rabble.

"The orc is being cocky," says Villesti. "Tell her she's not allowed to be cocky with me."

"Are you taking this seriously?" says Vixella. "Because I don't think you appreciate how, if we get caught, we're both going to get a lot worse than a single orc girl looking a little smug! First, we'll both be forcibly stripped before the eyes of our subjects. Then, we'll be spanked, firstly with that humiliating stamp of his, and then just for the fun of seeing us squirm! And after that's done, you'll be used to complete the same curse that the other houses were subjected to, leaving you, me, and every other female beneath us fully exposed for public ridicule, permanently. Everyone will know we pad our bras, everyone will know that we have the smallest breasts in the city, and they'll have proof of the same every time they look at us!"

Villesti just tugs her shorts out of her crack again, crosses her arms under her stuffing, and pouts.

"Okay, let's load you up," says the orc girl. "You're both going in the basket."

She indicates a tall vessel of woven reeds. Villesti cringes.

"That's not suitable for a matron at all," she says.

"And that's why it's a great hiding place," says Vixella.

The two highborn elves suffer the indignity of having the orc girl lift them up under their arms and stuff them into the basket together. It was a tight enough fit that Villesti eventually insisted upon her daughter giving up her false breasts.

The orc giggles, looking down into the basket of her two passengers. They're crammed up together breast-to-breast, the mother straddling the lap of the daughter, the pressure of her falsies the only thing serving to keep Vixella's sports bra from hanging immodestly off her now.

"Nothing but nipple," she remarks. She tugs at her own top, ostensibly to fan away the sweat gathering under her own cantaloupe-sized assets. After flaunting herself to the dark elf nobles for a few seconds, she slams the lid over the basket and prepares to depart.