R-rating time. Twisted stuff ahead. ;)

Her opponent was pathetic.

A young warrior, male, fresh out of the fighter's academy. He handled his weapon in a shaky inexperienced manner as he tried again and again to find an obvious opening in Laska's heavy assault. An opening which would never see the light of day.

He was young, and had probably entered the contest on a dare. It was clear he had overestimated himself. All the bravado before the match had melted away into terror.

Laska had had enough of toying around and jumped in the air. She twirled in the air, kicked him in the chin and landed a second kick in his stomach before landing on both feet. Laska grinned like a shark as she twirled her blades with dazzling speed. Sliding forward towards the staggering boy, her blades slashed and carved through flesh and bone, ending the warrior's life in a flurry of blood and screams.

As the young warrior gurgled and twitched for one last time, Laska had already turned her back to him and accepted the roars of the crowd. The elf loved the attention, the approval, the bloodshed... and by slaughtering her enemy, she had just qualified for the first real matches.

The young warrior had not.

Laska felt her blood pounding in her chest. The sheer exhilaration was exquisite. She felt like a huntress who, after stalking her target for a long time, had finally made the kill. The smell and feel of warm blood on her body only made the experience all the more orgasmic. She felt alive. Death had brought her life.

As she left the arena, she was greeted with a rather appreciative purr. Phaere lay prone on a divan in her own sky box, eating from a bowl of imported fruits. This time, she was not wearing her 'armor' but a rather flimsy and skimpy silk garment leaving most of her skin bare. Her hair hung loose, bringing out her piercing green eyes all the more.

"Did you like the fight?" Laska said as she sat down on the floor and supported her back against the divan. Immediately, Phaere started softly rubbing Laska's shoulders.

"It's always enjoyable to see you in action, my pet," Phaere chuckled. "Wash off the blood and gore and meet me in my chambers in an hour or two," she said while massaging Laska's ears with her nimble fingers.

"Yes, Phaere," Laska grinned as she watched a few cleaners carrying off the body of her victim.

Laska found herself in her bedroom, looking into the wall-mounted mirror. What she saw was herself, changing into various vests she had brought or bought in the market-place. Currently, she was looking for the most revealing one. Of course, seeing she was going over to Phaere's floor, it wouldn't be staying on her body very long, but she felt that presentation counted in this case. She wanted the vest with the highest seduction-value.

Thoughts of the torrid passions that were to come in the near future mixed with the aftermath of battle-lust. Raw desires coursed through her veins. Energy not spent raged inside of her, screaming to be released. Her heart raced in her chest, not having slowed down since the battle.

She watched the mirror, and for a moment, her own image faded, replaced by that of an image of rivers of blood, rousing fights, orgies of wanton violence... and just plain orgies, although a Drow orgy could not be called 'plain' by any means.

And this society, this city, could offer it all. She could not think of any other course for her life. Everything she ever wanted or ever would want was here. Here with Phaere. Luscious, seductive and powerful Phaere.

She blinked once, she blinked twice. And her own image was back in the mirror, although it was herself in Drow form. Her vest, what there was of it, revealed her cleavage quite prominently, but also... a single tattoo, the rose encircled by barbed wire, was still very visible on her right breast.

She could not remember what it meant, not for the life of her. In fact, she could barely remember what had happened before she had come to Ust Natha. She knew the tattoo was a link to her past somehow, and she knew that this single, un-erasable symbol could somehow break everything that she could gain here. And she did not like that one bit.

Anger soared through her body and concentrated towards that single tattoo. More and more, the hatred burned. Finally, Laska drew one of her throwing daggers and, quick as lighting, slashed it into her flesh with a savage, single swipe. Blood welled from the tattooed spot.

The pain was terrible, but it felt like a release. No longer would it threaten her in any way. Again she slashed at the tattoo. And again. One final, fourth time, finally made the tattoo completely unrecognizable, brought a measure of release that caused her to spasm and press her cheek against the cold glass.

The copper smell of blood intoxicated her completely. Her blood was power, Her power. Her power over life and death, her key to all that she ever could desire.

The blood from the wound seeped down her cleavage and droplets traced paths over her belly. With great care, Laska swiped two fingers over her belly, scooping up her blood and holding it in front of her face.

Her breath quickened as she traced the blood over of cheek with a single caress. Again, she shuddered with ecstasy as the smell of her own blood tickled her nostrils. As she continued her perverse form of finger painting, Laska knew that only thing which counted was living in the now.

"My, that looks painful," Phaere said after having let Laska in her penthouse on top of the Three Sisters Spire. As soon as she noticed the already closing wounds on Laska's breast, her voice was filled with concern. The sincerity was, however, anyone's guess. Elven regeneration had already closed her skin, but the tattoo was still completely ruined.

"First time you were hit, were you?" Phaere spoke and caressed Laska's cheek gingerly. "I hope you don't plan to make a habit out of it."

Laska did not reply, but the lust practically radiated from her body.

"I would hate to see your magnificent body being spoiled, my pet," Phaere chuckled, and let her robe fall to the floor, revealing her ebony skin to the balmy Ust Natha air, dressed in nothing but a amenyst amulet.

"Sex," Laska demanded. "Now."

But before Laska could reach her arms around Phaere, the Drow chuckled and stepped out of her reach. "Impudent, are we?" Phaere winked. "I think you need to be taught a lesson."

Laska saw a flash from Phaere's amulet and found herself completely unable to move. Phaere playfully lay her hands on Laska's shoulders and pressed her lips on Laska's forehead.

"Male?" Phaere called as she moved to her luxurious bed near the window at the back of the room. Out came a young male, the same young boy that Laska had killed in the ring earlier today. To Laska's surprise, he seemed even more frightened of Phaere than he had seemed of herself in the ring. "Ah, the priestesses did a fine job with your resurrection. Over here, male."

As the boy gave Laska a startled glance, Phaere chuckled and spoke to him. "Don't worry about Laska. She... likes to watch."

Phaere yanked the boy towards her and practically threw him onto her bed. Laska felt sheer rage mixed with humiliation as Phaere slowly started to please him, often looking back at Laska to gave her a mocking smile... or worse, a wink. Then, Phaere looked no more, after her long white hair spread out in the boy's lap and she had found a steady rhythm of movement. For a moment, it seemed that the male's eyes would roll back in his head.

Anger and lust raged through the paralyzed elf, but she was denied any way to give motion to those feelings as Phaere's game continued. Especially the boy's gaps and moans grated her nerves. Phaere then ended her ministrations, much to the male's disappointment. However, she only shifted position and dug her nails into the his shoulders as she started to move her hips across the male's lap, slowly at first. She moved gracefully, and finally, her gasps of pleasure mixed with those of the young male.

The game was close to its final stage as both Phaere and the boy's gasps became throatier and longer. The echoes of their affair resounded off the walls and assaulted Laska's ears. Throwing oil on the fire, Phaere turned towards Laska one more time and winked, only to close her eyes and throw her head back while continuing her pleasure.

A cry of anger sounded through the room, followed by a yelp from Phaere and a cry from the boy as he was sent hurtling into the wall. Phaere founded herself pinned down by an enraged Laska. They were face to face, panting into each other, feeling each other's hot breath on their skin. Through sheer force of will, Laska had shrugged off the effects of the spell and ended Phaere's game prematurely.

Strangely enough, Phaere wasn't angry about it. Laska's rage almost completely disappeared as well, now that Phaere was within reach.

Phaere looked deep into Laska's eyes. The lust could be read clearly from them, but there was something else behind the lust, as if Phaere looked upon Laska with new eyes.

"No one has conquered me before," Phaere whispered.

"That's only because you've never met me before," Laska whispered back.

"I'm not an easy conquest," Phaere challenged. "More than one attempting conqueror has been broken."

"We shall see," Laska grinned as Phaere wrapped her arms around her waist. Only then, Phaere noticed the dazed boy, looking for the best opportunity to sneak away.

"Hey, male!" Phaere shouted. "Where do you think you're going?!"

Laska smirked and started to nibble on Phaere's neck, softly and gently. "Another game?"

Phaere winked and Laska and then turned to the boy. "Male, you may leave here... SHOULD you survive the night, that is."

"Don't sulk," Laska smirked. "There is a chance of that actually happening. A slim chance, but still a chance."

The boy gulped and returned to the two tireless females lying on the bed.