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Spider & Crow

by Onyx Tao

Crow: Copyright Jace - used with permission[You may copy this story under certain conditions. Please see the Creative Commons license for details](%5C)

Author's Warning: This is a strong, intense story, moreso than other of my works. Bad things, very bad things, happen in this story, and their redemption, if present, is implied only weakly. This story has aspects that upset me, the author. That said, if you choose to read on, I hope you enjoy it.

His name was Crow, and he was a free man. Elf. Half-man. Half-elf. Person, dammit, he was a person. At the moment, he was a person wearing a slave collar (and nothing else), who answered to the name Spider, but his name was Crow. He was also laying down on a cold marble floor waiting for the bitch who called herself his owner (but Crow knew better than to believe that) to emerge from her hyacinth-scented bath, up the steps of the small pool, and - of course - onto him, lest her delicate feet touch the chill floor. Never mind that a half-elf was not an ideal walking surface; never mind that a rug would have been more effective, warmer, and less likely to be slippery, never mind that stepping out of a bath onto a slave - or a free person pretending to be a slave - was just a stupid idea.

At the moment, it was Ange's idea, and an elven highborn didn't care what anyone else might think. Not that Ange Nokirt would care_what a slave thought, other than disapprove the prospect of a slave_thinking at all. Slaves were to obey. Anything else was punishable.

She stepped out, onto his back, and a thick robe leapt to her hand, and she pulled it on.

Warm, hyacinth-scented water trickled onto him. Thinner than blood, and it cooled faster. And smelled better, thought Crow, and was much easier to wash off.

Ange stepped off, onto a rug (duh!) and dried herself. That, at least, was an improvement from Crow having to do it, he thought, and suppressed a yelp as something much like a huge hand picked Crow up by the leg, dangled him over the tub, and dropped him into the water. He wasn't quite sure how Ange did that, but like most of the highborn, she had magic. More magic than was good for her, Crow was quite certain, but ... there was nothing he could do about that. Not yet. Not now.

"Bathe," instructed Ange in a bored tone, but then, she almost always sounded bored. When she didn't, then was the time to get scared. She picked him up another couple of times, dropping him back into the cooling water; it must have amused her to see Crow struggling, dripping water midair. At least she was being careful not to hurt him, or drown him. Well, at least she wasn't hurting or drowning him, Crow amended silently. "Hurry up, spider,"_but his name was Crow - "_hurry up!"

Hurry up? Perhaps if he'd been getting ready instead of serving as a floor covering ... but of course he knew better than to say that. The only thing one ever said to highborn elves was "Yes, Mistress!" which he did, in a suitably abashed tone.

Crow didn't take long to soap and rinse in the cooling water (Ange hadn't bothered to chill it this time), but his mistress was still dressed, her now-dry hair delicately braided in long intertwined violet cords around her silver-threaded silk dress. The gold-and-amethyst gauntlet she wore was out of place, but it was a thing of power, and Ange was seldom without it. She looked at Crow, now quickly drying himself on a towel with a certain amount of ... consideration. She looked down at a letter she'd been reading ...

And Crow made a mental note to steal a look at it as soon as he could. Half-elf slaves weren't allowed to read, of course, but ... the twins had taught him anyway, when he'd asked. They'd been such good friends, until he was sold to this _ bitch ._Crow hated her with every ounce of his being, but there wasn't much he could do. Not until the twins were ready. Twins! He HATED her.

... and nodded to herself. Her gaze focused back onto Crow. "Put on a loincloth, Spider -" although his name was Crow"- and come with me. I'm going to a spa for a few days, Spiderling. Lovely. Massages. Skin treatments. Facials. Manicures, pedicures ... keeps one looking one's best." She smiled (always a bad sign) at him. "Doesn't that sound lovely?"

Crow knew from experience there simply was no good answer to any question a highborn asked, but since he'd been asked, he had to answer. Silence would draw punishment. "As you say, Mistress," he said, humbly. Crow thought he did humbly really well; it was a stunning portrayal of submission and acceptance of a slave's - which he was not - lowly role in life. Really, that was a great line, delivered with panache and skill.

He wasn't punished, so it must have been good enough for Ange. She would have done something immediately - punishing slaves was one the few things that seemed to hold her flitterbat attention for more than a few seconds - and she'd never have passed up an opportunity.

She turned and proceeded out through her suite, wandered down into the courtyard, and two burly orcs lifted her gently into her palanquin. "Spider!" - Crow! - she said.

He followed her into the silk-curtained palanquin. The curtains were thin, and from the inside, propped up on cushions, Ange could see perfectly. Those outside, however, could only guess, and tremble, and hope that the highborn's gaze did not fall on them. Ange had already lain down.

He curled up at her feet, like any good little slaveboy would. He wondered if she'd want sex on the ride - ick - but she just snapped an order to the orc bearers, and they lifted the palanquin smoothly, and set off. Presumably they knew where they were going, since he hadn't heard Ange tell them - that, and the bearers already waiting, meant she had something planned.

It would be unpleasant. That was the one consistent thing about highborn ... everything was bad, unless it worse. He hated them. He hated their arrogance, he hated their superior languid sense of ennui, he hated the very sight of highborn. And he _ hated _what they did to the children, his brothers, and even, in an abstract way, the orc-children, he supposed. No, he did. Orcs had it just as bad as half-elves, no question. Oh, were clever, very clever. They bred half-elf slaves, with orc overseers. For his first twenty years, he'd thought orcs were monsters, the worst and most terrible thing in the whole damn world ... although that world had consisted of no more than ten thousand square feet of barracks and training rooms and punishment courses and orcs. He'd glimpsed the elves, here and there, quietly watching, but the whip was always held by an orc. His first fuck had been by an orc, and he could still smell the sour-stink of orc and _taste_it as he begged and whimpered and pretended he was grateful. Oh, he'd _hated hated hated _orcs.

Only then he'd been sold, and he'd discovered that out one door and down a long passage, not five hundred feet, there was another facility just like where he'd come from where half-elves bred orcs, and trained them just like he'd been trained, and they hated half-elves. And when the elves determined which orcs hated half-elves the most, they took the bitterest, cruelest, most brutal of their half-orc victims, and put them in charge of the half-elf broodpens. That was an elven joke, he supposed, or at least as close to it as they could come.

He still didn't like_orcs. Orcs _still held the whip when a half-elf was punished, just as he'd had to punish orcs. But the evil behind it was the highborn, playing their half-elf slaves off against their orc slaves. And it was clever, even Crow admitted it, because no half-elf would or could trust an orc. And no orc would ever think of a half-elf as anything other than a danger and a threat.

The foul highborn elves even enslaved each other. He'd seen a male elf three times - always chained. And he knew that they wore pretty much the same steel chains he did - except that elf-chains were covered in gold, and were the work of a jeweler, not a blacksmith. Ange had put those chains on him - once - before using him. She hadn't done it again, though.

They weren't headed for any of the usual places, he determined. They weren't headed for the arena, not the bazaar, not any of the elite clubs where highborn congregated to indulge in recreational alchemy, as Ange referred to it, or other vices. He repressed a shudder with the ease of long practice, remembering the last time they'd gone to one of those. Ange and her friends - except than any of those so-called friends would have been as delighted to put a knife in her kidneys as Crow would have been - had fed various drugs to some outbred slaves. Minotaurs given aphrodisiacs and rage-inducing hallucinogens, and then turned loose on one another. Another elven witch conjured a psychoreactive fog, so they could see what the_minotaurs_ were seeing. Crow felt very sorry for those minotaurs, and it had only renewed his hate for his mistress and all her ilk.

They were in the trade districts, working their way toward the outskirts of the city, and a highborn's palanquin caused a quiet bubble as lesserborn and slaves scurried unobtrusively out of its path. All the lesserborn were female, though, he'd never, on any of these excursions, seen a elven male. His mistress and her cliques never seemed to talk about that, though, other than to refer to males with condescension. He'd noticed that it usually ended up with punishment - either his, or some other poor half-elf's. The highborn kept half-elves as houseslaves, leaving the heavy work for the orcs. Oh, there were a few orcs, like the matched set carrying the palanquin, but they lived in the stable, not the house. So where were the elven males?

He couldn't ask. That would be breaking character - a half-elf slave coming out of the broodpens was not supposed to be even capable of forming questions. He was supposed to be attentive, docile, and obedient to the point of death - and he'd seen other half-elves kill themselves on command. Of course, given the life they had, they might have been grateful for the order. Crow wouldn't have been. No, he wanted to live. To escape.

And the twins had promised he might. Not would, they couldn't guarantee it, it would be a tricky thing, but ... they'd aim for it. He just had to hold on, just as long as the highborn didn't find out he was not the good little slave they thought, and he'd be free, and ... and ... he wasn't sure what would happen after that. The twins had just laughed, and said it would take care of itself, whatever _that_meant. But, he could either give up and be the slave they wanted, or he could die, or he could trust the twins and hope.

Crow had chosen hope, long ago in the broodpens, when the twins had offered him that choice. Most - all? - of his fellows had chosen to give in, and as they did, the training broke them and spat out ... things.

Not persons. They truly thought of themselves as the property the elves treated them as, if they thought of themselves at all. Sullen, abject, hopeless acceptance of a life of pain, work, more pain, and finally death. No. Not for him. Not for Crow. No.

The palanquin stopped outside a small door with House Nokirt design, a dagger plunged into a ragged icicle, but no other identifying marks. The bearers lowered it to waist level, and Ange slipped out. "Come on," she cooed back.

That was a particularly _bad_sign, thought Crow, who followed quickly. She opened the door, and strode in, with Crow following three steps behind, into a sparsely furnished room with several doors.

Moaning softly to the side, on a hastily-improvised mattress of sorts, were three male half-elves, perhaps a little older than Crow, with a huge leather-clad orc bending over them, fastening some kind of restraint - almost a splint, onto one of them. He finished before turning around, and then gasped.

"Mistress!" He dropped instantly prostrate to the floor, and two other orcs, apparently slower on the uptake than him, did so as well. "How can this slave serve you?" Orcs, like half-elves, usually wore very little - a loincloth, perhaps. In the endless warm night of the underlands, little else was needed. This one, however, wore a simple leather tunic, cream-colored, with matching trousers and a corded silver belt. Leather shoes - or perhaps, something closer to leather wraps, covered its feet. Since orcs usually went barefoot, that was very odd.

"Paying attention would help," Ange said, coldly. "Perhaps you might tell me what was so fascinating about ... those rejects."

The other two orcs wore leather, too, but more of an overall, and they didn't have shoes.

"Nothing fascinating, Mistress, it's just that the screams get irritating very quickly." said the orc. "They were delivered with broken limbs, and if they aren't splinted quickly, they try to move, and the bones tear into the muscle, and ... it's very messy, Mistress, so it's important to get the splinting right."

"Does it matter?"

"Well, Mistress," the orc replied, with a puzzled tone. "It's important to them, anyway, and ... I'm sorry, Mistress. This can't possibly be of interest." He paused for a moment. "I apologize for wasting the Great Lady's time with such trivia. How may _I_serve you, Mistress?"

"I'm going ... away for few days," said Ange, with a calculated smile. "And rather than have this slave sit around uselessly, I thought I'd ... board him here. For a few days. Not longer than a week, maybe two."

"Yes, Mistress," the orc replied instantly, from the floor. "We have three openings, for these three, I'll just leave one out until another a kennel opens. I'll see to his care personally, Mistress. Should I know anything in particular about this slave? Will it require special treatment?"

"No permanent damage," said Ange. "Other than that, nothing special, no. Get up."

The orc rose from the floor, but crouched, keeping his head a few inches under hers. That, Crow knew from experience, was a painful position. The other two orcs didn't budge from their cautionary positions on the floor. "When I get back, I think I will want a full tour. We'll start with Spider, here, and finish ... have something ready to finish."

"Yes, Mistress," acknowledged the orc. "If the Great Lady wishes to proceed on inspection now, we are at your disposal as always, but ... having nothing ready, Great Lady. I will in a day or two, and will hold that for your return. Will that be acceptable?"

"Yes," said Ange, "but I've no interest in an inspection today. On my return."

"We do not deserve the honor of your attention, Great Lady," the orc said, "but we will be grateful for it when you choose to bestow it."

"Just ... be ready when I get back," said Ange, sounding as if she'd like to take offense at something, but unable to find anything but docile submission in the orc's address.

"Yes, Mistress."

Ange turned to Crow. "You'll be staying here for a few days, Spiderling. Be good." She turned, and walked out the door. The orc stayed in his crouch until the door closed, and then stood up with a grimace. He looked at Crow with concern, and then back to the whimpering half-elves on the mattress, and shook his head.

"What terrible timing," he said, and then looked at the three on the ground. "One of you isn't going in, I'm afraid."

"You don't have to ..." started Crow, but the orc cut him off.

"I'm not disobeying her," the orc said calmly. "No. You're going in first. Spider?"

Crow shook his head, but didn't say anything.

"Right," the orc said softly, and pulled a vial out his pocket. "You, then, I suppose," he said, and turned his attention back to the three half-elves. "Here," he said. "This is a sleeping drought, that's all, nothing more than that. You'll fall asleep, and when you wake up, we should have figured out just where to put you so you'll heal. Drink," he said, and he dribbled it into the closest one's mouth. "You need to swallow," he said, oddly gently for an orc. "That's it. It'll take a minute or two, but ... the pain should start to recede, and then you'll feel things get a little fuzzy, and then ... then you'll be waking up, and we'll have you all splinted, and it won't hurt nearly so much." He reached out, and stoked the boy's hair for a few minutes, until his eyes closed. "There," he said, softly.

He turned to the other two orcs, still prostrate on the floor. "Get the other two finished, and into ... eight and ten. I'll be checking up on you just as soon as I'm finished, so do it right. This one will be out for, well, it depends on how much pain he's in, I suppose. That would normally keep him out for at least ten hours, but ... enough pain would wake him up in six. So I need a brilliant idea in six hours."

"Sir?" one of the other orcs said. "We could do three early, and move him in there."

"No ..." said the first, considering it after his initial rejection, then, "No, I don't want to do that."

"Five? But .."

"No, he's not even close." The big orc thought some more. "It's short term, assuming She comes back for this one," he said, gesturing at Crow.

"What exactly are going to do?" asked Crow.

The big orc looked taken aback. "You speak? I'd assumed ... well, never mind, obviously you speak. Uhm. This is a ... kennel, of sorts, and we put up slaves while they heal, typically, from ... whatever misadventures. These three ..." he paused, and then continued, "were studs at the Nokirt broodpens, until they screwed up." He shook his head. "Valuable, but ... they'll need some ... specialized care to recover their value. The issue is I only have so many kennels, and ..." he trailed off. "I need one more than I have. Generally, we don't run so close to full, but ... you know how it is," he said. "Highborn always pick the wrong time to want something. If she'd just brought you last week, or next week, it wouldn't be a problem.

"And it isn't a problem now," the orc continued. "Jack. Forget what I said about eight and ten. Move three into eight, that room's meant for an orc, but there's an elf there, right?"

"Yeah," said one of them.

"So we hook up a second halter in there. It will be tight, but their arms and legs are broken. They're not going to be moving around for five, six weeks at least. And they already know each other - enough to be stupid, so hopefully they can take the company."

"But if they can't," started the other,

"Eh, deal with it then. This will work now. Matt. Just as soon as you get one of 'em settled in ten, go help Jack."

"Yes, Sir," the third orc said slowly.

"I want them haltered fast," the orc continued, "but no sloppy work. Or as soon as an orc-size room opens up, ..." he stopped, ominously, and the other two nodded. "I mean it. Don't hurt them. Move them with the splints. Matt, I want you to help Jack moving his. And when you're ready for the other two, Jack, you help. Do the sleeping one last. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," they said.

"Good. If a problem comes up, I'm going to be in two with Spider, here. Get me. But it better be a problem, not just your being stupid."

"Yes, Sir," they chorused.

The bigger orc nodded. "Get to it then." He turned to Crow. "Come this way, please."

Please? "Why?" asked Crow.

"Well," the orc said in a patient tone, "room two is this way, and it's one of our nicest rooms, and I'm wearing a Nokirt master ring." He held out his hand to display a blue metal ring with the Nokirt dagger-and-icicle on it. "You're wearing a Nokirt slave collar, I'd be willing to bet. Now, your mistress left you here," he said slowly, "and so you need to obey me. Do you understand?"

"She left me with you," acknowledged Crow, in his best humble tone. He didn't say anything about obeying, though, and he wondered if the orc would notice.

"There's a good boy," the orc said, pleased. Apparently not, thought Crow. "Now, I understand you're a little nervous. There's no need. This isn't going to hurt. All that's going to happen - come on, now," said the orc, moving toward the door again, "is that we're going to kennel two, I'm going examine you to see if you need any treatment - you probably won't, but, as long as you're here, we check, and even if we do have to do something, it isn't going to hurt." The orc laughed to himself. "Anything that might hurt, we do with a sedative or some kind of painkiller. They're cheap, they're effective, and we use them. No pain, that's our motto."

Crow followed the orc through the door into a well-lit hallway. They stopped at the first door, and the orc pushed open the door.

"Come on in," he said. "Take off the loincloth, hop up on the table, please."

Please again, thought Crow.Weird.

The room itself was warm, and lit by soft glowing stones embedded in the wall, making it dim, but shadowless. A shelf held a number of jars and bottles, all neatly labeled with orc-glyphs, and on the bottom there were a number of strange-looking instruments, but ... nothing that looked like a saw, or even edged. Whatever this room was, maybe ... maybe it wasn't a torture chamber. Crow sighed. There was only one way to find out, he supposed, so he took off his loincloth - and nearly jumped out of his skin as the orc took it from him, folded it, and tossed it on top of the shelf.

"Lay down," the orc said. "And ask anything you want."

"What are you doing?" said Crow.

"Examining you for scars, skin blemishes, infections, general skin condition ..." the orc said absently, running a finger down his leg. "muscle tone, general condition, congenital defects - although those would have been, hmmm, dealt with at birth - things like that."

"What's your name? And what do you mean, dealt with at birth?"

"Tetht-seven...."

"What does the seven mean?"

"It means I was the seventh pup in the litter," the orc said. "and by dealt with, I meant the presiding midwife would have picked you up by the legs, and smashed your skull against a wall, after cutting your mother's throat, so there wouldn't be any further defectives."

"Oh," said Crow. What else was there to say?

Tetht leaned over, and licked his leg, from the knee up the thigh to his waist, and grimaced. "Well, that explains it."

"What explains what?"

"Your skin is dry because you're using poorly made soap." said Tetht. "And it's still on you."

"My skin is dry?"

"Yes," said Tetht. "Very. Elf skin should be soft, smooth, velvety. A pleasure to touch, glorious to hold, and with the fine flavor of elf - not that elf tastes to me anything like it would taste to you, but, ... well. Not oily or greasy, mind, that's a different problem, but ... not as dry as yours is. It's probably not the skin itself, just the soap. It's almost always something environmental" he said, more to himself than Crow, while lifting up and examining Crow's feet. "Nothing a file and a pedicure won't fix," and moved on to Crow's hands. "Fine, fine. Manicure, but ... nothing special. You have very nice hands, I like them." He ran his fingers through Crow's hair, and then sighed. "Now this isn't good."

"The soap again," guessed Crow.

"Yes," agreed Tetht. "All this hair is going to have to come off, I think."

"What?" said Crow. "No!"

"I can't tell, but I think your hair is just naturally dry. That happens with elves, too ... could be the soap, though. What do you use? Caustic lye?"

"I use her bathwater," Crow said bitterly.

The orc stopped, taken aback. "Well. Thank you. I'll have to be diplomatic when I tell she's using floor-cleaner. Although, if she's going to a spa, someone there will get to tell her, I suppose. Better them than me."

"Does anyone have to tell her?"

Tetht looked at Crow sharply. "I don't think I heard that. I am a slave of House Nokirt, half-elf. I put a lot of what I hear down to delirium - but the question I just didn't hear should not occur to _any_slave, ever."

That was an interesting thing for a House Nokirt slave to say, thought Crow. Especially since it had been a revealing question to ask.

"Why are you here," he said, as the orc was mixing something. "And .. what are you doing?"

"I'm putting together a body wash to neutralize the soap, and rinse it off you." Tetht answered. "And it's not going to hurt."

"Why do keep saying that?"

"Because it usually takes either a hundred repetitions or three days until I'm believed," said Tetht with a hint of amusement. "I think it's the three days, but ... just in case."

"Oh," said Crow, thinking about that for a moment, while Tetht scrubbed him with a cloth and a clear jelly that smelled like lemons.

"Turn over, please?"

Crow flipped so he way lying on his stomach, and Tetht continued the rubdown, lightly scrubbing his back, arms, legs, and then his ass, and gently working his way down into the hidden portion of his cheeks. Tetht carefully wiped down his balls, and then his cock, using his hand rather than the cloth.

From somewhere, Tetht produced a hose. "It's warm," he said, before directing a stream of - well, lukewarm, anyway - water over Crow. The water ran off the table, and onto the floor. "There's a drain," said Tetht. "If you were curious."

"Where's it go?" Crow wanted to know.

"I have no idea," admitted Tetht. "I'm not that curious." The orc put the hose back - behind the shelf, Crow saw, and came back over. He loomed over the young half-orc, and licked him again - from the shoulder blade all the way down to the thigh. "Much better," Tetht said with satisfaction.

"No soap?"

"Mmmm. Just sweet young elf," said the orc, happily.

"A ..."

"I'm not planning to eat you, no." sighed Tetht.

"How ..."

"Everyone asks that when I say that," said Tetht. "And then everyone asks how I knew they were going to ask."

"It was a creepy thing to say," said Crow. "I mean ... this is kind of weird, being ..."

"It's ... experimental," Tetht said, amused. "I suggested a better use for retired studs, and ... Great Lady Edeabe Nokirt was sufficiently impressed that she set me up a workshop. I got to bring ..."

"Retired studs? Why are you here? What is this place?"

Tetht began rubbing oil - briskly - onto Crow. "That's a long story, but ... once upon a time, there was a young orc who hated elves. And, when he was hauled out of the broodpens, he was asked - which was unusual, because orcs are usually just told - what he wanted to do, by a half-elf he particularly despised. So, he told the half-elf_exactly_ what he wanted to do, with a very sharp knife, and in what order, in detail. Probably should have gotten muh - him another trip through basic obedience, really. But, as it turned out, I was asked because Great Lady Edeabe Nokirt was looking for ... well, she wasn't looking for me, not then, but my answer amused her and so I was sent over to the half-elf broodpens." Tetht was silent as he rubbed warm oil around and onto the front of Crow's legs.

"So. I could take out all my anger - and I was a very angry young orc - and frustration and fury and hate on half-elves. Young, innocent half-elves who ..." Tetht sighed. "Who hadn't hurt_me_. Or any of us orcs, really, but ... we could do just about_anything_ we wanted to them. We were encouraged to. We were rewarded for being ... creative."

"What ... what did you do?"

"Things I wish I hadn't," admitted Tetht. "You grew up in the pens, didn't you?"

"Yes," said Crow, remembering things.

"So. The breeding side of the pens. Children aren't allowed there. Just breeding females, and studs. We bring in one new stud every six to eight months, and ... retire the oldest, who's usually been there for four or five years. The studs are told they're moving to another pen, but ... that's not what happens."

Crow decided not to ask exactly what did happen.

"So, I came up with an idea to ... rehabilitate them. Lady Edeabe liked it, and ... here we are. Although, fortunately for you, you're not a stud."

"Fortunately?"

Tetht sighed again, as he applied oil between Crow's toes. "You do keep asking questions with ugly answers, don't you. Studs have their arms and legs snapped, and their balls are cut off, so some rival house can't steal them to use as bloodstock."

"And that's better than what used to happen to them?"

"Oh, yes," said Tetht confidently. "Much better."

"So what ..."

"I'm not going to tell you," Tetht said firmly. "You only think you want to know. You don't." Crow felt Tetht pick up his left foot, and -

"What ..."

"Pedicure. Cutting your toenails, cleaning up the cuticle ... your feet are in pretty good shape, actually. I've seen some really bad feet, over the past couple of years ..." Tetht fell silent as he concentrated, and then he took hold of the right foot. "Oh, yes, this won't hurt."

"I figured that out," said Crow. "I've cut my toenails before."

"I'm on my way to one hundred," said Tetht, and with a final 'click', he set the foot down. "Manicure. Actually I only need to do the left hand, your right hand is fine ..."

A few snips, and then, "Done."

"About the hair," said Crow. "That's ... that's permanent, you know."

"Long-term," said Tetht. "Not permanent. And really, it all has to go. It's dry, mostly split all the way to the root, no, I'm sorry, Spider - "

" Crow!"

"I'm sorry? Crow?" said Tetht, puzzled.

"Never mind," said Crow. "What do you mean by split?"

"The hair is so dry it's ... fraying, like a rope might fray. Not that hair is like rope, but ... it's close enough," said Tetht. "There's nothing to do but start over. And keep it away from soap this time!"

"It's not really up to me," said Crow, not adding yet.

"Exactly," said Tetht. "And neither is this."

Tetht pulled out a razor, and began pulling - gently - on Crow's hair. There was an odd pulling sensation on his scalp, and a 'szzzz' sound, and then the tension was gone. Hanks of hair began to drift down. "It's a shame, you'd have such nice hair ...

"But this isn't it," Tetht said. "Close your eyes, please. This would sting - a lot." The orc put something cool on his head, and drew the razor down. "And no sudden movements, please." Having one's head shaved was a strange experience; not unpleasant, but ... strange. And his head felt cold, Crow noticed, even though the room itself was warm, as Tetht deftly drew the razor down.

"It will grow back," Tetht said, as he finished. "And it won't be ... so frizzy this time." The orc wiped Crow's scalp down with the cloth, and then applied the same oil. "There."

"Now what?"

Tetht smiled lazily. "Food, I think. Are you hungry?"

"A little," said Crow. "I guess. And it won't hurt, right?"

Tetht looked at him. "No, not much," he chuckled, and scooped Crow up in his arms, cradling him gently for a moment. "Won't hurt."

"I can walk!" said Crow, twisting a little.

"Ah, but ... isn't it nice to be carried?" asked Tetht. "All clean and oiled, ready for dinner. After all that work on your feet, just let me carry you, hmmm? And who knows, maybe ... I'll find something to eat, too."

"Are you sure you're not going to eat me?" said Crow, half-joking. "This feels ... a little weird."

"No, I'm not going to eat you, and I suppose it will seem strange, at first," admitted Tetht, walking down the hall softly to avoid jarring the half-elf. "But my directions were to treat you as we'd treat anyone else. And I would carry anybody else to the kennel. The broken legs are usual, after all, not exceptional. So why not just enjoy it?"

That set off a warning in Crow's mind, but Tetht had already pushed a door open, and walked through into a small stone room. It had a plain wooden chair in the far corner with a small cushion set on it, cupboards set into the walls - and a set of leather straps and buckles hanging from the ceiling. "Kennel Two," said Tetht. "Home for the next few days. You'll like it."

Crow was beginning to harbor doubts about that. "What are those ..."

"These?" asked Tetht, walking into the middle of them, and shifting Crow's weight to his shoulder - gently, very gently. "This is the restraint halter." He slipped Crow's right hand, and then left hand through a loop and then tightened the straps around his wrists. More straps went on his ankles, then his calves, and finally Crow's forearms - he almost felt like he was floating. The leather was silk-lined, and oil was dripping from the half-elf to the ground. Tetht fastened a net under him, and then attached it to the straps so Crow's entire torso and his calves were wrapped, and supported first by the silk netting, and then by the straps.

"The oil's supposed to keep it from chafing," Tetht said, "but ... I'll keep an eye on it."

"Chafing? How long am I going to be hanging here?"

Tetht lifted his hands. "Until your mistress comes to get you, I suppose. You get a bath every three days, and I put on more oil as needed." The orc smiled. "I can flip you over, of course, or raise your head, if that's more comfortable."

"I don't want to stay like this for weeks!" said Crow.

"Perhaps you'll change your mind," said Tetht.

"GET ME DOWN!" yelled Crow.

Tetht just ignored him, and opened a cabinet.

"TETHT! Please ... get me down!"

"Please don't yell at me," said Tetht. "You're not getting down. You_are_ getting fed. And it's not going to hurt."

"I'm not hungry," said Crow.

The orc shook his head. "It won't hurt," he said, shortly.

What, wondered Crow, did that_mean. And then he realized that whatever it meant to the big orc, it wasn't what Crow _thought it meant. And, maybe there was a way out of these straps - he pulled gently, quietly on one, then another, just to see if they ...

"Oh, they're not too tight," Tetht said, almost absently, his back to the half-elf. "You could probably wriggle out of them, in an hour or two, if you were patient. I can hear them squeaking; I hear higher sounds than you do, elf, and I know you think you're being quiet, but ... that's sort of a nails-on-chalk sound to me. Please stop.

"And no, you're not going to have a chance to get out of them," Tetht added. Something he was doing was making slushy liquid sounds.

"I'll be good," said Crow. Good was, of course, open to interpretation.

"It doesn't matter," said Tetht, bluntly. "You aren't getting out. Understand that right now, Spider."

_ Crow! _

"I'm sorry if that seems cold, or unfeeling, or mean," Tetht added, after a moment. "It probably is. But there's not a thing I can do about it, and there's not a thing you can do about it, either. Can't change it, I move on. This doesn't have to just not hurt, you know."

Crow tried to parse that for a moment. "You mean it could hurt?"

Tetht snorted. "No, I mean it could be ... very nice." The orc turned around, and had something in his hand as he stepped behind Crow. "This could be very pleasant, you know, very enjoyable, if you relax, and just enjoy it."

Crow started to answer, and a hand pinched his nose shut. He gasped in surprise, and Tetht deftly slipped something large and smooth into his mouth, and released Crow's nostrils. Crow tried to spit it out, but he could already hear Tetht snapping a buckle into place. "I know,"

said Tetht, "that wasn't very nice, but ... it's a lot easier to do if you don't know I'm about to do it. Gagging someone when he's actively resisting is tricky, and I'd probably end up hurting you a little. You'd still end up gagged, after all."

Bastard! thought Crow furiously. He pulled on the straps, but ... they didn't have that much give at all, and ... were they getting tighter? He tried yelling something, but all that came out was a muffled grunt.

"You're fighting," the orc observed neutrally, still standing behind Crow. Which, Crow thought, was odd. He didn't seem upset about it, or happy, just ... registering it. "It's a waste of effort, really. I've been dong this for over ten years, and I do know what I'm doing.

"Do you like chocolate?" Tetht added.

Crow tried to tell Tetht to go to hell.

"I'm sorry, usually I can tell a yes from a no, but ... that didn't sound like either," apologized Tetht. "How about coffee?"

The 'NO!' came out as a grunt.

"That sounded like a no," said Tetht. "Banana?"

Crow was silent.

"Banana, then," said Tetht. "Chocolate-banana, now, that's tasty."

Some thick liquid began to trickle in through the gag, no, a hole in the gag - banana? Only, he'd expect banana to be pulpier. It certainly tasted like banana.

"You'd better swallow," Tetht suggested "I can force you to swallow, if I have to, and you won't like that. It's a lot of work, and remember when I said it wouldn't hurt? If I have to force it down your throat, it's going to hurt. I'd take it as a great favor if I didn't have to."

Crow didn't do anything.

Tetht walked around the elf, and pulled the chair with him. "Not in a hurry, it's a gravity feed ..." the orc's voice trailed off as he looked at the half-elf, and he smiled, with a look in his eye that Crow thought was at odds with his reasonable, measured tone. "Ahhhhhhhh," he sighed, and ran a hand down Crow's side, starting at his armpit, running it down Crow's side, and lightly running his fingers over Crow's left asscheek. "Pretty ... so pretty ... don't worry, elf, Tetht doesn't want to hurt you ..."

Tetht maneuvered the chair in front of Crow, and then pulled on two of the straps, and then a third, and Crow felt himself shift midair, until he was no longer laying flat, but at an angle, his head nearly three feet higher than head. The orc sat down, and - by no accident whatsoever, Crow was certain - his head was just a few inches higher than Crow's crotch. Tetht rested his arms on Crow's thighs, and softly pulled him forward, until Crow's dick was right in his face.

"See?" Tetht said softly, with a strange, almost flat tone with an undertone of excitement that, more than anything else, made Crow want to run screaming. "This doesn't have to be bad."

The orc's tongue flicked out, and Crow flinched. "Not going to hurt you, silly elf" breathed Tetht, and he ran his tongue down Crow's semihard cock down to his balls, and slowly took them into his mouth.

It felt ... good. The orc's mouth was hot, and wet, and his hands were sliding gently, softly, up and down his legs, on a frictionless warm coating of the oil Tetht had applied so lavishly earlier. He wanted to moan, but ... he swallowed the mouthful of banana-flavored mush or liquid or whatever it was ...

Only to have more pour in.

Tetht was murmuring happily, too low to be understood, and his tongue was working its way around the line that separated Crow's thigh from his pubes, down and around the smooth skin under his balls ...

Crow swallowed some more. It wasn't all that bad, really, and ...

Tetht licked gently around Crow's hole, lick, lick, lick, lick ...

Crow began gulping the stuff down, hoping to finish it quickly.

Tetht licked gently across the oiled hole, and then began working his way, patiently, thoroughly, back up the other side. "Lovely little elf," he said, coming up for air, and then ... lick, lick, lick, back to Crow's cock, teasing all around the head, a soft, warm stimulation that made Crow harder and harder and Crow gulped more banana liquid.

"There," said Tetht softly, "that's not so bad, is it?" and then, looking up briefly, "You're almost done," he said in an encouraging tone.

He took Crow's cock all the way into his mouth in a rush, holding it, running his tongue over it, sucking gently, sucking hard, varying the pressure from trying to crush Crow with his tongue to breathing hot air all along the sensitive flesh.

Finally! Crow drank down the last of the banana, and could ... oh, Tetht might be - was - very strange, but ... he did know what he was doing. Crow writhed midair as Tetht brought him just to the brink.

Tetht stood up, smiling, and licked his lips. "There are things I love about elves," he said, going around in back of Crow -

What are you doing, thought Crow confused and trying to shake off the residual haze of lust, staring at his cock and watching crystal liquid well up, drop by drop at the tip, and then form a slick trail down the taut skin.

More banana goo poured into Crow's mouth, answering the question, and Tetht returned to his seat - and began suckling on his own treat again. Crow wanted to scream in frustration - and for a moment he wasn't sure if was the skillful blowjob or the flavored whatever-it-was he was being forced to drink. But ... Crow concentrated, somehow, trying to block out the delicious sensations Tetht was providing, to finish this new banana stuff, and get on to the ...

Gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp - how much of this stuff was there? Was that why Tetht hadn't let him see what he was eating? Drinking? Swallowing?- Gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, pause, gulp, gulp, gulp ...

Crow finally reached the end of it, forcing the last of down into a bloated-feeling stomach. Tetht didn't seem to notice this time - more likely, that was sufficient and Tetht just didn't care - or perhaps the orc was as caught up sucking him as he looked. Tetht's eyes were closed, certainly, and the orc seemed - from what Crow could see - to have an expression of -

Orgasm struck Crow without warning; the building of sensation was almost instantly followed by release, and he could feel the hot liquid of his pleasure jetting into Tetht's mouth - and now it was the orc's turn to swallow, each gulp tickling Crow into releasing just a little more, until Tetht finally, reluctantly, sat back up, gave Crow a final lick - less a lick than just touching the tip of his tongue to the slit of Crow's cock - and stood up. "Oh, yes," he sighed. "That was ... fun." He looked Crow right in the eyes, and touched his lips to Crow's cheek, and Crow could smell himself on the orc. "Thank you," Tetht said, sounding sincere.

And then Tetht put a hand down on Crow's belly, very lightly, feeling the tension. "Full tummy," said Tetht, "Good, good." He looked back at Crow. "Nod if your stomach hurts, hmm? I can help that, really I can."

Crow shook his head instead. He wasn't quite sure how Tetht would 'help', but he didn't want to find out just them.

"Good," said Tetht. "I don't want to start you out with too much."

That sounded really bad, thought Crow. No, there was nothing good about that, not at all.

"So. If I take the feeding tube out, will you promise not to try to wiggle free tonight?" asked Tetht. "Not that you aren't the jewel in my little collection here," and the orc licked his lips suggestively, "but I do have those three others to look in on, and ... they're hurt pretty badly, and they're going to need some attention," Tetht said worriedly. "They're worse off than you, really, you're just a little scared - I hope just a little, you don't need to be but I expect you are - they're going to be downright terrified at this point, and ... well, broken bones hurt a lot. Pretty much in agony, and what I can do about that is limited. So. No trying to get free tonight?"

Crow shook his head. He wasn't even sure he could get free, at least not without throwing up, and ... and it seemed like a really bad idea to puke with a gag.

"Good," said Tetht. "Just let me put the feedbag away ..." a moment later the orc was doing something behind his head, and then the tightness of the gag loosened, and Crow was able to spit it out.

"So. Banana good?"

"That was a dirty trick," said Crow.

Tetht shook his head. "Not a trick," he corrected, walking over to the door. "I'll be back in a few minutes. If you need anything, yell. One of us will hear you, and we'll come. Sometimes ... sometimes being alone is a little hard, the first few nights."

"First few nights?"

Tetht looked at him, pity in his eyes. "Do you really think your mistress is coming back for you? Pretty elf?"

Crow just started at the orc. "But ..."

"Just call if you need me," Tetht said softly, and shut the door. The lights flickered out a moment later, leaving the room in darkness.

"That one's dangerous," mused a voice a a moment after that, a young piping boy. Crow felt his heart jump, first with relief, and then with fear that one of the twins might be caught, and then ... how did they get in here?

"I thought he'd _never_leave," said a slightly deeper one. "I was about ready to do something."

"That's not the plan," started the first voice

"I KNOW! It's _my_plan, after all."

"Hi guys," Crow said, with tremendous relief. "This ... this isn't the safest place, you know. You don't want to get caught here ..."

"You let Us worry about that," the first one said, confidently.

"We've got a plan," the second added, with a chuckle.

"So this part isn't the best ..." the first one continued, "and ... there's a complication We didn't foresee."

"We're keeping an eye on it."

"Uh ... Corva? Kerasu? Guys? Could you get me down?"

"Well" said Corva, "honestly, Crow, that's not the plan. We need some things to happen, and to do that ..."

"Stop!" said Kerasu. "You can't tell him, it won't work if you tell him!"

"And seeing as _you_promised not to try to escape," added Corva, ignoring his brother. "We shouldn't." Crow heard Corva turn to his brother. "We need to tell him about the orc, that's the one thing that could really mess this up."

"One of the many things that could mess this up," corrected Kerasu. "Starting with ..."

"No!" said Corva, in a angry tone Crow hadn't heard before from the young boy.

"Sorry," said Kerasu, almost apologetically. "And Crow, I'm sorry, too."

"Why are you apologizing to me?" asked Crow.

"Because he wasn't thinking about you," said Corva, with definite irritation. "And you're why We're here. Not His exceedingly clever plan, not the insane orc, not for anything else, just you, Crow. We're here for you. Don't forget that, Crow, and ... I'm afraid it may be hard, much harder than We ... than I ... thought. The orc has a God, Crow, a very dangerous one, and that means the meddling We can do is limited to you. This whole place is ... well, sacred, I suppose, to the orc's God."

"Yeah," said Kerasu. "Dergodhazi. And the normal rules don't apply to Him."

"Rules don't apply to him," said Corva. "We can finesse them. He just ... doesn't care. So, We can't interfere with the orc. And, the orc doesn't worship Him. The orc channels_Him. Dergodhazi _loves Tetht, just like you love Ahanu."

"He hasn't met Ahanu yet," said Kerasu, with an air of abstract politeness, as if reminding his brother that, oh, the cave walls were stone, and the floor might be a bit uneven, and water would usually flow downcavern. "And ... he might not. That's not clear at all."

"That shows how much you_know. They _have met." said Corva.

"They have?" said Kerasu, surprised, and then suddenly suspicious. "You're keeping secrets, Corva!"

Crow could hear the smile in Corva's reply. "One or two, bro, one or two. But they haven't met as such, not yet. So, I'm sorry, Crow. Forget about that. Kerasu's right, in that you still might not meet Ahanu as Ahanu. We hope so, but ... it depends on a lot of things going right. Anyway, the important point is that Tetht is beloved by his God, albeit in a very different way than We love you, but ... it's still love."

"Yeah," said Kerasu sarcastically. "The obsessive compulsive crazy hurt you until you die screaming kind of love. Did I mention Tetht is stark raving bonkers insane?"

"Yeah," said Crow. "I kinda figured I was more tightly wrapped than he was."

Kerasu giggled at the joke, and continued. "He won't physically hurt you, not unless you provoke it - so, don't fight him physically. He's already won that."

"He's trying to break your mind with his control of your body," said Corva. "And he's very, very good at it. After a few days with him, most of his ... victims?"

"Playmates," said Kerasu. "He's so crazy he doesn't even know what he's doing."

"Just makes it more effective," said Corva, sadly. "Anyway, he breaks most of his playmates like ... well, snapping off a stalagmite, I suppose. Of course, they don't have your strength, or, well, not to be boastful or anything, but, they don't have Us, either. He won't be able to affect you, if you can remember who you are, and that We're here for you - always, Crow, there might not be much We can do, but We're here, and We'll do what We can."

"Like getting that bitch owner of yours back here," added Kerasu. "She's ..."

"That's the plan," Corva hushed his brother. "And you're right about that, it has to be a secret."

"But ..."

"It will be just as clever_after_ We pull it off."

"I suppose ..." sulked Kerasu.

"She's coming back?" said Crow, not certain whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Well," said Corva with a very light laugh, "that's certainly the plan."

"Tetht is coming back, anyway," warned Kerasu suddenly. "We gotta go, bro!"

"Gotta run, Crow. We're here, don't forget Us!" said Corva.

The door swung open a moment later, and Crow blinked as the light came back on - it was soft, like all lights in the underrealm, but enough to blind him for a moment as his eyes adjusted. "Just wanted to check up on you," Tetht's voice said, and the orc walked over unhurriedly. He rested his fingertips lightly on Crow's chest.

"I'm fine," said Crow, a little too fast, and Tetht looked at Crow's face carefully. He didn't move his fingers, but he did tug on the straps with his other hand.

"Well ..." said Tetht, after a minute or so. "Your heartbeat is normal, and ... you haven't been pulling on the straps, so I take it they're comfortable?"

"I'd be more comfortable_out_ of them," suggested Crow.

"No," Tetht said absently, and then ran a finger over Crow's arms and legs. "Circulation's good, you don't feel cold ... but ... are you cold?"

"A little," admitted Crow.

"That's probably your head, right?" asked Tetht. "You're going to feel a little cool for a day or three, just until you get used to less hair. But ..." he paused. "It is a little cool, I suppose. Hold on."

He went back to the cabinets behind Crow.

"It's not an accident that I can't see what you're doing, is it?" asked Crow.

"No," said Tetht. "I don't like accidents. You can't see what I'm doing because there is equipment back here for many different requirements, most of it almost never used, and ... there's no need to worry you about it."

"I'm curious," said Crow.

"Well," said Tetht, "it's mostly equipment for feeding and cleanup. Hoses, tubes, valves, more specialized restraints - sometimes the incoming are down to stubs."

"Stubs?"

"Elves or orcs who have been amputated at the elbows and knees," explained Tetht, moving stuff around. "What you're in won't hold them safely." The orc fell silent again, and Crow listened to quiet rummaging sounds for another minute or so. "I've convinced most of the pens that breaking bones should be sufficient, but every now and then ..."

Crow shuddered.

"Well, this isn't really perfect," said Tetht, "but I think it's the best I can do right now." The orc smeared more oil over Crow's scalp, and then pulled something over his head - and it went over his eyes, as well. His nose and mouth were still exposed, so Crow had no trouble breathing, but he couldn't see a thing. "There's no reason to cut off your sight," apologized Tetht," but it's the only thing I have that will keep your head warm. It's not as if you haven't seen everything in here already, anyway."

"No, I suppose not," said Crow dryly.

"Oh, good, I'm glad you don't mind," said Tetht, apparently missing the irony entirely. "Do you need ... anything?"

"Well, I ..."

Tetht just waited.

"I have to piss," Crow said, finally.

"Oh, hold on." There was a scratching sound, and then a soft thump. Tetht's hand took

Crow's cock, and held it softly. "OK. Anytime."

"I don't know if I can," muttered Crow. "I mean, this is just weird. Really weird."

He heard a soft laugh, but nothing else. Crow concentrated, tried to relax, find that balance point between a full bladder and release ... "This would be easier if you let go of my dick," he said, but Tetht said nothing, just letting the darkness fill with silence and anticipation.

Was there a draft of warm air on his balls, Crow wondered? And ... Tetht was holding his dick lightly between two fingers - but ... his fingers were on top and thumb on bottom?

He hadn't heard Tetht go back to the cabinet, either. But ... he had to go. He tried to forget where he was, where Tetht had to be crouching, waiting ... no, he ... concentrated, and, with a few initial spurts, began to piss.

Silently, or almost so. Crow could hear the faint sound it made the liquid left him, but ... it was as if it were falling into a void. No sound of water - piss- hitting a bucket, no echo in the room, just ... quiet.

Maybe, just maybe, a faint gurgle - Crow just let calm emptiness replace the feeling of fullness, and then, a tightening, a pressure, to expel the last ... few ... drops. Something wet, and warm touched the head of his dick briefly - just for a moment - as Tetht pulled, almost milking the last trickle out. Another moment of silence, and Tetht sighed happily.

"There. You'll probably need to go again in ... in a bit. I'll be back," Tetht said with the a tiny tremor of emotion that - if Crow hadn't been listening closely to Tetht for the last several hours - might have passed unnoticed. But ... what emotion? Excitement? Happiness? Lust? A little of each?

From drinking piss?

The twins were right, Crow decided. Tetht was ... he wasn't sure what Tetht was. At first, he'd been scary, just because he was an orc, and orcs didn't usually treat half-elves very well. And then, he'd been less so, as he'd talked, and explained, and ... somehow kept Crow's attention off the fact that he was being cleaned, prepped, and fed like a calf turning into veal, but ... Tetht had said he wasn't going to be eaten.

No, he hadn't. Tetht had said that he, Tetht_,_ was not going to eat him, Crow realized suddenly. He'd never said that Crow wouldn't be eaten... just, not by him. So ... It all came down to Corva and Kerasu, he realized. Either he trusted the Twins, and he was going to get out of here if at all possible - and that's what They'd promised, after all, or ... he didn't.

Tetht dropped by twice more, at odd intervals, checking on him and - quietly - the straps, for Crow's comfort, he said, and oddly, Crow even believed that that was part of Tetht's intention. As far as Crow could tell, Tetht didn't want to hurt him. Crow managed a doze, and perhaps sleep - between the dark of the room and the blindfold, he couldn't see anything. The quiet was ... intimidating, in its own way. A elven house had an undercurrent - slaves scurrying to and fro, an occasional scream, angry voices, arguing ... it was quiet, perhaps, but never silent, and rarely this dark. This was silent. The thick stone absorbed and muted voices. Footsteps vanished onto the immensity of the rock slabs, and even the thin, wavery slaps of sandals were stopped by the heavy stone door. Crow waited in the dark, and realized ... he did trust the Brothers. Corva and Kerasu would see him through this, and he resolved to give Them the time They needed to do it.

Crow woke muzzily, hanging in darkness. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, maybe a day or a night, and if he hadn't needed to relieve himself quite so badly - he still wasn't hungry after drinking all that banana-glop - he'd probably still be asleep. He waited for a moment, and then called out. "Tetht! TETHT!"

The door clicked open about thirty seconds later. "I get him. You wait, Tetht say." The door closed again, and Crow ... waited.

It seemed quite a while until Tetht walked in - and Crow knew it was Tetht. He wasn't sure if it was his footsteps, the way the door opened and closed, maybe even the faintly sour musk, but before the fingertips touched him, he knew Tetht was there. Tetht didn't say anything for a moment, but Crow felt the straps move gently as Tetht checked them with his other hand.

"I'm here," the orc said, finally. "You need to piss?"

"Yes," said Crow, "and .."

"Ah. Yes, of course" said Tetht, amused. "Matt. There, please. Yes." Crow felt his dick gripped again. "Whenever you're ready."

Crow breathed a sigh of relief when he was done, and then yelped - or tried to - as Tetht slipped the gag back in. "Mmmmnnnmnnntnnng!"

"Oh, no, I knew your mouth would be open," said Tetht. "Now please cooperate - Matt, clean him, please."

Crow felt a tongue licking - no! He clenched his legs suddenly - or at least, what he could as the straps snapped taut.

"Relax" said Tetht, firmly, as more flavored goo - not banana this time, something else, sweet, but not too sweet, fruit maybe - flowed into his mouth. "Please let Matt do his job. You really won't like the alternative."

He didn't like _this!_Crow thought.

"Swallow, please," Tetht reminded him.

"Mmmgn!"

"I could thread the tube down into your stomach directly," said Tetht. "But then I'd have to dislocate your jaw to prevent you from biting through it. It's also hard on the esoph ... on your throat." He waited for a moment.

Remembering what the Twins had said ... Crow relaxed, and submitted to Matt's questing tongue - he shuddered a bit when it probed a little more deeply into him, licking and nuzzling, the orc's lips sealing to him with a slight pressure ... actually, it didn't feel too bad, if he could just forget what ...

Tetht was busy running his hands over Crow, applying more oil to his chest, arms, legs - finally to his crotch, where he gave Crow's dick a suggestive caress. "There we go," Tetht said, in a soft voice. "It's not so bad, is it? Swallow for me, Spider - " _ CROW! _" - that's a good elf. It doesn't taste too bad, does it?"

Swallow, thought Crow. Easy for him to say, but ... Tetht wasn't lying, or joking, or even trying to threaten him by telling him what would happen. The orc was, in his own strangely protective way, warning him, letting him know that ... something bad could happen, and Tetht didn't _want_it to happen. But it would, if Crow forced it to.

Crow just started gulping it down, trying to finish it, as quickly as he could.

"There," said Tetht, soothingly. "Good. You liked the banana, this is strawberry - it's an upperworld flavor, you may not recognize it. It's good though, yes?"

Gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp ...

"Not too fast," said Tetht, after a moment, as the stuff stopped running into his mouth. "That will just make you sick, and then we'll just have to do it all over again. Give yourself a moment or two. There's no rush."

The other orc was still tonguing him, almost as if he were savoring Crow. Crow shuddered again.

"See?" said Tetht, misinterpreting the movement. "You need to go more slowly. We have time.

"Matt, are you done?" the orc asked, as the slurps were suddenly audible now that Crow had paused.

"Uh-huh," came the reply. "Elf good. Like. More?" The last word was almost plaintive.

Tetht was silent for a moment, and then he wasn't touching Crow anymore. A mouth closed over Crow's dick, and began to suck on him - not the teasing, erotic, arousing way Tetht had sucked him earlier, but a more concentrated, direct, almost hungry manipulation. Crow was there to be milked of his seed, and the mouth on him was determined to have its reward as soon and in as copious amounts as possible.

More flavored - strawberry flavored - goo began to drip into his mouth, not as fast as before. Gulp. Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.

Crow was starting to feel very full.

"Matt, I need you to hold him still for me."

The mouth withdrew from Crow long enough for a quick, "Yes, Sir" even as strong arms grabbed his legs firmly - and pulled Crow's dick back into the waiting warmth.

Gulp. Gulp.

Crow could feel Tetht moving, adjusting the straps, lowering his crotch - and a muffled complaint from the orc busy there - and raising his head a similar amount. Gulp. A strong hand was resting lightly on his belly. Gulp. It pressed down firmly, and began to move, from the right of his stomach to the left, then down, and up, and back as another hand supported him from below. It felt ...

Crow wasn't sure how it felt. It didn't hurt, not exactly, but ... it didn't feel good, either. And the orc sucking on him had him hard, but not ... not anywhere close.

Gulp. Gulp.

He just wanted it over. He wanted to finish this glop, he wanted to get down from this awful suspension, and more than anything, he wanted _ out _of this city. Gulp. Gulp.

And the only way to get there, Crow told himself, was by trusting the Twins. Gulp. They had told him he needed to be patient. Gulp. That he couldn't fight Tetht physically and win, and Crow was inclined to believe that, certainly. Gulp. The orc seemed to have everything figured out. Gulp. No escape. Gulp. Except ...

Gulp.

Except that the Twins had told_him there was a way out. Gulp. And the way out was _through. Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.

Crow was starting to feel sick, and each swallow made it worse. He could almost feel the liquid gurgling in his belly, moving in, moving deeper into him. Gulp. Gulp. What had been the firm tension of Crow's abdomen a few minutes ago was starting to resist Tetht, and he could practically feel his belly swelling from the liquid, and he realized Tetht's massage was working the goo deeper into him. Gulp. Gulp. The suction on his hard dick wasn't anything close to what he wanted, needed to feel. Gulp.

"That's it", Tetht murmured, as he swallowed, swallowed, and swallowed more of the thick liquid. "Very good, very good!"

Very good? For what? thought Crow to himself. For this? Gulp. Gulp.

Gulp.

He could have lived without the distraction of the blowjob, Crow realized; between the orc's inexpert sucking and the constant inflow of whatever-it-was-flavored goo, it was just making it seem longer, and longer ... Crow tried thrusting into the orc's mouth, in between swallows. One. Two. Ten. Twenty. He lost count at ... forty something. Gulp. It didn't help.

Crow felt like he was going to burst. Gulp. Another. Gulp.

Gulp. Gulp. And then there was no more in his mouth, just a swiftly fading flavor and a remnant sweetness, and the stretched, tight, heavy, bloated feeling in his stomach.

"What a good elf," crooned Tetht. "I'm so glad you're not fighting me, Spider" - _ Crow! _ - "this will be so much easier. For you, for me ..." the orc's voice trailed off. "Mark. You can stop now."

"Must?"

"Yes," said Tetht. "You're done. Why don't you look into Three?"

The irritating suction on Crow's dick stopped - thankfully - and Crow heard the door click open -

"Mark," said Tetht.

"Sir?"

"Thank the elf."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, elf." Mark said. "You taste good. I liked you. Like more." The door closed.

"Mmnngnmm?" said Crow.

"Let me take that out," said Tetht. The pressure on it loosened, and then it was lifted away. "Better?"

No, thought Crow, not really, not until he out was out of this place. Hold that thought.

"A little, yes," said Crow, as, after all, it was marginally better - however awful it still was.

"Good," Tetht said, sounding pleased. Something wet and warm poured onto him - oil, he thought, a moment before hands started spreading it over him. "It's not easy, being there, I know," he went on.

Of course it's not easy, thought Crow. You've gone out of your way to make me as helpless as possible, and then you congratulate me on any little thing that I do that doesn't interfere with whatever you want.

"And I do want to make this as easy as I can," Tetht continued.

As easy as you can for you, thought Crow.

"I want you to know that when you cooperate," Tetht said, "I'll go out of my way to make things better for you."

Crow didn't respond.

"For example. I've got a lot of flavors. Is there anything you like?"

Crow thought for a moment about the few things he did enjoy - apples, and those huge fuzzy berries, and how completely ruined they'd be if he was forced to swallow gallons of apple-flavored glop. No, he didn't want that. He really didn't want that.

"My mistress didn't really give me much variety," he said, after a moment. "That stuff you just gave me - what do you call it, anyway?"

"Feed," said Tetht.

"You told me what it was, and it was fine, but I'd never had it before."

"Strawberry," said Tetht. "I'll keep going with upperworld things, then, and eventually we'll find something you do like. "

Crow shuddered at the thought of that many feedings.

"Something wrong?"

"Nothing fixable," said Crow.

"So little is," sighed Tetht, rubbing the oil lightly onto his stomach, and then lower. Crow started to object, and then realized it was pointless. Tetht poured more oil on, and teased Crow's half-erection back up. "You either recover very quickly, or Mark didn't get what he wanted," Tetht said.

"He's not ..."

"No," said Tetht. "He isn't very bright. Needle."

"What?" said Crow at the_non sequitur_. "Needle? What ..."

Tetht stopped massaging him for a moment. "You probably don't want to know," he said, pouring a little more oil onto his hands, and then rubbing it over - into - Crow's buttocks.

"Probably not," said Crow, "but, tell me anyway."

"If an orc isn't promising, or is too rebellious, they insert a needle at the base of the ..."

"Stop!" said Crow. "I get it, I get it!"

"It doesn't work reliably on half-elves," Tetht said, "or so I'm told. I'm not sure why."

"Why it works on orcs or why it doesn't work on us?" asked Crow.

"Either," said Tetht after a moment, his finger oily finger circling Crow's hole with a delicious pressure. "I wonder sometimes why _I_didn't get a needle." Crow tensed, but his hole finally yielded to the slippery digit.

"I don't suppose I could just say I don't like getting fucked," Crow said.

"Is that so," said Tetht. "How do you know?"

Crow felt his cheeks heat. "In the pens ..."

"Elves or orcs?" asked Tetht, almost clinically.

"The orcs," said Crow, wishing now he hadn't said anything.

"Let me guess," said Tetht, with a hint of ... irritation? Anger? Displeasure? The problem was, without being able to see Tetht's face, and his general imperturbable tone, it was hard to make sense of the few inflections Crow did hear. "Two guards corralled you, pulled you into a empty room, and one of them fucked your face while the other fucked your ass. No lubrication, lots of blood, and a beating afterward, and a threat that if you ever told anyone, they'd rip your throat out."

Crow felt a sick sense of amazement - that was essentially what had happened. "Yes," he said. "Almost exactly. I hate to ask how you know."

"Easy," said Tetht - and that inflection was disgust, Crow was almost certain - "That happens to every elf in the pens."

"Oh," said Crow. He searched for something else to say, but there really wasn't anything.

"The pens are pretty bad," said Tetht, working his finger around. The manipulation didn't hurt, not exactly, but Crow wasn't sure he liked it.

"I asked for a reason," Tetht went on calmly, as if he weren't slowly finger-fucking the elf. "Being fucked doesn't have to hurt."

Oh, no, thought Crow.

Tetht moved his finger, and Crow twitched as it brushed something inside him. "You felt that," the orc said, after a moment.

"Yes," admitted Crow.

"And it didn't hurt, did it?"

"No."

"It felt ... good, didn't it?"

Crow was silent.

"You're not sure?" asked Tetht lightly. "Let's try again," and he started a steady rotation that had Crow tensing himself, trying not to react. He thought he was succeeding, at least until Tetht brushed the head of his cock, and he felt the spread of warm, slick fluid that could only be his own natural lube.

"It feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Crow said. There wasn't much point in denying it, after all.

"They run the pens all wrong," said Tetht, almost regretfully, working another finger into Crow. "They could turn out happy little slaves, so easily, totally devoted, unquestioning," he sighed. "Such a waste."

"The pens are a hell-pit," Crow said. And if you ran them, Tetht, they'd still be a hell-pit. It's just that the damned wouldn't even have a chance to know they were damned.

"Yes." sighed Tetht, "Wasted opportunities, wasted chances. Spilled blood, that. I asked because that's how most elves get fucked. Brutal, painful, ugly ... it doesn't have to be that way."

"But it is that way," Crow said cautiously.

"You haven't tried it my way," Tetht said. The fingers were withdrawn, a few steps, and something hard was poking at Crow.

"You said this wouldn't hurt," Crow said suddenly.

"It won't," said Tetht confidently, and the pressure against Crow began to increase. Crow could feel the oil-slick cock nudging its way into him.

"It feels like it will," said Crow.

"It won't," repeated Tetht, as he slipped inside, and froze motionless.

It didn't feel good, Crow was certain, but, it didn't hurt. Not yet. Crow felt himself relaxing, his ass opening, as Tetht waited patiently. Crow sighed, as the discomfort faded.

"There," said Tetht, reading his reactions almost perfectly, and pushing further in. It still didn't feel good, though. "I know," said Tetht, his breathing starting to be a little ragged. "Wait. Wait."

There was something else he could do?

Tetht pushed up against Crow, fully in him now, and Crow felt the orc pour more oil on him. "There," the orc whispered, pulling out slowly, very slowly. Crow could almost feel the oil coating Tetht's cock, forming a slippery layer around his hole, and Tetht began to move faster.

It did feel good.

Crow's breathing began to match Tetht's, as the orc fucked him slowly, then quickly, then slowly again. Sweat, both elf and orc, mixed with oil, and Crow began to hear Tetht moan with his own excitement. Crow was trying not to, but it did feel good.

Very good. Crow was so hard he hurt, and he could feel Tetht brushing up against his cock as the orc fucked him, and that felt good, and oh, Twins, he wanted more, and Crow was moving himself, pulling Tetht deeper into him, flesh hitting flesh, nothing but the slight squish of oil and hardness and ...

Tetht tensed, and let out a whimper, a soft, lowing sound, and Crow groaned in his own need for release. Crow could feel Tetht shuddering, hard, then more softly, and the orc's breath came in gasps, then more, and more regularly. The hard cock within him was still driving Crow wild, though, even though it wasn't moving, and Crow tried to move against it.

A hand slick with oil closed around Crow's cock, and Crow wasn't sure if the hot wetness was his own, or oil, and oh Twins it didn't matter as the hand - Tetht's hand - deftly rubbed against the length of his cock, something rubbing to and fro against the head -

Crow screamed his own orgasm, with the hard orc-cock softening, and pulling out, and the hand still rubbing the now all too sensitive head, the scream of pleasure turning into a howl as his own seed spattered over him.

"Now that's being fucked," Tetht said, after a moment, as Crow just hung limply in his bonds.

Some sounds, the door clicked, and Tetht called out. "Mark? Come here."

Footsteps. "Sir!"

"Clean me, Mark," said Tetht, which was followed by some slurping sounds. "And then the room. The elf last."

"Uh-huh," came the reply from ... under Crow? Mark was already working? Crow thought about just what the orc might be doing, and then decided he didn't want to think about it.

"I'll be back to check on you in a few hours," said Tetht, in a contented voice, presumably to Crow. "Oh. Yes. Thank you, Spider."

_ CROW! _

The door clicked closed, and Crow could hear the orc underneath him, a curious sort of wet lapping sound. He simply hung there, trying to regain his composure, feeling the wet trickling of seed running slowly down his sides, a wet tickle that he

Until a rough tongue followed each rivulet from wherever it had reached on his back or side up to its source. The orc murmured happily, apparently finding the task enjoyable. Crow wondered bleakly whether that reflected on the orc's preferences, or that was just a consequence of not having to do other, worse things. He - or at least Crow thought Mark was a he - didn't say anything, though, and Crow couldn't think of anything to say either.

It didn't take Mark long to move down to his crotch. Crow tried very hard to ignore the orc, but the happy little whimpers and sighs, along with the tongue laving itself into the most private parts of his anatomy, made ignoring him very difficult. Somehow, it was intimate without being overtly arousing, and the orc's occasional sigh and chirp made the entire process easier to accept. At least, until the orc put his hand onto Crow's stomach, felt about a little, and then ... pushed. Found another place, and pushed again, and another, and another.

The need to relieve himself grew quickly from mild suggestion through immediate concern to completed result with nothing left to mark the passing but the happy sounds of a contented orc.

If he could just forget the embarrassment, put aside the frustration he felt at just being_here, Crow thought. This _had to be one of Kerasu's plans. And if there were any way he could get Kerasu for this ...

"Ah, I wanted to talk to you about that," a deep, but still young, voice said almost hesitantly. "Don't say anything, don't upset Mark. Just ... just talk in your head. I can hear that."

Kerasu?

"Guilty," sighed Kerasu. "This isn't what I planned, Crow. I never would have put you through this, I swear it. It went wrong, all wrong, and ... it should still work out, like what we wanted, but ... this wasn't what I ... what We ... intended. I'm sorry, Crow, I really am. Sometimes ... My jokes backfire, and usually I'm the one with egg on my ... that won't make sense to you, will it, with, uh, mushroom pie dripping down onto My shirt. I certainly didn't mean for you to take the brunt of it."

Crow sighed, partly in relaxation as Mark continued to tongue him happily, partly in understanding. I believe you, Crow thought.

"But ... there's an opportunity here, Crow. One I didn't foresee. You can help me, Crow," Kerasu was talking quickly now, excited. "Can I count you in?"

What? I'm 'in' pretty deep already.

"Yeah, well, as long as you're this deep you might as well grab a rock to prove how deep you were, right?"

What do you want?

"I want Mark," Kerasu said, almost greedily. "He's ... ready. If I could just talk to him, I'm sure I could get him." Kerasu sounded a little apologetic. "I can't offer you much, I know, but ... if We could get Mark, take him away from Tetht and Dergodhazi, wouldn't that ... feel like doing something?"

"It would," Crow agreed, forgetting to be silent.

"Shhhh!" said Kerasu, even as the orc stopped and looked up.

"Elf?" the orc said, after a moment.

"Nothing, Mark, I'm sorry."

What do I have to do?

"Just get Mark to play a game with you," said Kerasu, more enthusiastically now. "Hopscotch. Chess. Fetch. Anything. It doesn't matter. I'd try fetch. There's a rubber ball - it's a gag, actually, but it would bounce a little. In the cabinet."

Then, more softly, Kerasu whispered, "Thank you for understanding, Crow."

Over the course of the next two days, between the repeated feedings, with Tetht giving him almond, anise (which Crow disliked), cardamom, jasmine, forfret, carrot (surprisingly good, given his expectations when Tetht told him what a_carrot_ was), bog mallow, and rose, Crow tried to get Mark to play a game.

Fetch didn't work at all; Mark gave him the ball, and would bring it back, but ... the entire concept just confused the poor orc, and he certainly wasn't enjoying it. A rhyming game failed, because Mark just wasn't up to rhymes, but ... Mark liked listening to the rhymes. Crow seized on that, and tried word games, but again, Mark just wasn't smart enough to play those - and he was frustrated that he couldn't. Crow knew the answer had to be words, somehow. Mark loved being talked to, if he understood the conversation. After a day and a half, Mark was spending every moment he could in Crow's cell - or kennel, as Tetht called it. Crow tried to engage the orc - difficult, since Mark was limited. His memories and understanding were limited to Tetht's complex (although Crow got a few hints of things he wished he hadn't), and a few occasionally volunteered comments about Mark's own time in the brood pens.

Mark was sucking on Crow's right foot when the brainstorm hit. "This little piggy went to market," Crow said softly, wiggling his big toe, and then "This little piggy stayed home. This little piggy had roast beef - This little piggy had none. And this little piggy went 'wee wee wee' all the way home."

Mark didn't say anything for a moment, and Crow was thinking about what he would try next, but then the orc suckled on Crow's big toe for a minute, letting it go only to say "Piggy!" in the most delighted voice Crow had heard so far. It took almost fifteen minutes to teach Mark the whole little rhyme, mainly because the orc was giggling so hard.

In fact, Crow realized, it wasn't_just_ Mark giggling, after they'd gone through the rhyme for the twentieth time. He started to say something, but another voice cut him off.

"Just listen, Crow," said Corva with great satisfaction. "You did great. Listen."

At first, all he could hear was orcish muttering, a language Crow didn't speak, and he wasn't even sure he could make out the words.

"Let me help," Corva said. The words untwisted themselves in his head, making sense.

They were having fun, Crow realized. Mark and Kerasu were playing simple counting games, and Kerasu was teaching him rhymes. Orcish rhymes, which both rhymed and he heard in elvish, where they not only didn't rhyme but barely made sense except that they did.

"Try not to think about that," warned Corva. "It'll make your head hurt. Just accept that you're understanding it."

"No," Mark was saying, and the orc was growing agitated. "You can't. Sir will punish us. Me. You!"

"Suppose he couldn't," said Kerasu, very quietly. "Suppose he couldn't hurt me, and he'll never know I was here.

"Sir knows everything," said Mark, sadly. "Everything."

"But if he didn't," Kerasu said, and Mark was quiet.

"Never had a friend," said Mark, finally. "Nobody wanted me. Just Sir."

"I want you to be my friend. My brother will want you to be his friend, too."

"No, Sir will find you," Mark said, with a dead, almost hopeless tone. "If you come back. Maybe now! He will, he always does."

"But if he would not," said Kerasu. "Pretend, for just a minute, that your Sir didn't, couldn't, wouldn't even if he could know. Please, Mark? I'd like you as a friend. Really."

"Sir won't allow friends," Mark said, almost crying. "Can't."

"He can't stop Us," Kerasu said. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yes ..." said Mark, slowly. "Shouldn't be, though."

"But I am. Please, Mark, be my friend?"

"Sir ... Sir will punish" sighed Mark. "But ... never had a friend. Sir can punish." Crow could hear the smile. "Friends."

"Friends," said Kerasu.

Corva laughed, and said, "Friends."

A little later, right after Mark had left, Corva whispered to Crow. "Mark ... don't be upset when it happens, Crow. He's ours. It'll be fine. It won't look fine, but ... really, it will be fine. We're going to teach him to fly, Crow, so ... don't worry when it happens, all right?"

"When what happens?" asked Crow, but the brothers were gone again, and Crow was alone.

It was three feedings later - apricot, Tetht called it - when Crow realized something was different. Tetht had taken to fucking him, and then sucking him off, alternating between sessions, but ... the orc was unusually quiet this time, fucking him ... differently. Harder. It still felt good - Tetht was training him to enjoy being fucked, of course. Perhaps even to crave it.

In a sudden epiphany Crow understood why the Twins had said Tetht was so good at breaking his playmates. He didn't break them. He seduced them. Hanging there helpless, but not hurt, no, never out and out pain unless you forced the pain on yourself by resisting ... and resisting was futile, because anything Tetht asked for, he could force. Step by step by step, Tetht taught that he got what he wanted. But cooperate, even passively, and the reward wasn't just the cessation of pain. The reward was pure pleasure, and attention from Tetht (and after spending hours alone in the warm silent dark, that was no small thing).

Tetht was dangerous. He swallowed more of the strange-flavored goop, and then - surprisingly, came to the end of it. He wasn't sure how much Tetht generally gave him, but this couldn't even be half - maybe a quarter of what he'd expected. Tetht himself came suddenly, without his usual endearments, and ...

Crow knew. It could only be one thing, or rather, one person. She was back, and watching what had happened to her toy. Deciding, perhaps, whether to let him rot here or take him back. He hadn't thought it possible to hate her more, but he was wrong, very wrong. He breathed in, and let calm replace the burning fury. Always, always, it was best to humor her, so ... until she let him know she was there, he would act as if she weren't.

Tetht pulled out of him, and summoned Mark into the room. Mark was silent, dead silent, careful not to make any noise as he tended to Crow. Terrified of the Great Lady in the corner, Crow thought. Tetht himself remained in the room, quietly waiting. Another giveaway, Crow thought.

A hand touched him, ran down him, measuring the slight coating of fat that Tetht's regimen had produced. Her hand. Crow knew it, would know it, could not help but know it. And, he thought, she would know that, too.

"Mistress?" he said, trying to sound hopeful and humble, rather than hating. "How ... how can your slave please you?" It was a standard acknowledgment.

"Silence," she ordered him.

"Remove the blindfold."

Tetht did so, and the bright light stabbed his eyes. Crow yelped - or tried to, around the feeding gag.

"His hair! What did you do? Did I not say he was not to be permanently damaged?"

"It was already damaged, Great Lady," Tetht said respectfully. "It will grow back undamaged, as long as he is prevented from soaking it in floor-cleaner again."

"Loose him, then."

"Yes, Great Lady," Tetht said. It took the orc less than a minute to have him out, and held - cradled - in his arms.

"There's no need to coddle him," Ange said coldly. "He can walk."

"Your pardon, Great Lady," said Tetht, "but he can't."

"What? Why not? Didn't I say no permanent damage?" she demanded, with a strange tone of ... fear? Crow blinked his still-watering eyes. It was fear. During the time he'd spent blindfolded, he'd become more and more adept at hearing intonation - partly because Tetht had so little, but more because he'd had to focus on sound, rather than sight. Why would his mistress be fearful that he was damages? Angry, upset, inconvenienced ... but fearful?

And why was Tetht saying he couldn't walk?

"Atrophy sets in very quickly in half-elves, Great Lady. He'll still be able to crawl, but not walk. However, muscle tone returns just as quickly - a few days of activity, and then a week or two of training, and he'll be fine."

"I see," she said. Crow heard relief in her voice. Why? What was she planning to use him for? "And if I'd left him longer?"

"It would take him correspondingly longer to recover, Great Lady."

"But he would recover."

"I expect so, Great Lady. I've never taken a half-elf to complete atrophy and then tried to rehabilitate it," Tetht said, sounding thoughtful. "There may be some point beyond which it becomes permanent. I'm not sure."

"I don't want my spiderling to be your test subject for that," Ange said.

"No, Great Lady."

She tapped her foot against the floor, and said, "Well, I did want to see the underpens, and you said you had a demonstration of the hydrocaust."

"Yes, Great Lady," Tetht said. "But after you left, I realized you can't really see what's happening in the hydrocaust, so I had the hypocaust readied as well. We'll set up the hydrocaust, of course, but ..."

"The difference being?"

"The hydrocaust accommodates six, and it's much easier to work. Water is much easier to keep at the right temperature. The hypocaust uses hot air, only does one at a time, and it's a lot harder to keep the subject from overheating. Even an experienced operator runs it too hot on occasion. The hydrocaust never has that problem."

"I look forward to it," she said. "Lead on."

"Of course, Great Lady." Tetht walked out, stepping over the prostrate Mark on the floor.

Since Crow was looking backwards, over Tetht's shoulder, he saw exactly what happened. Ange stumbled over Mark, and then brought her foot down sharply on the little orc's neck. There was a soft crack -

• and the brush of hard feathers across his face -

and Mark went motionless.

A shudder ran through Tetht, who seemed to recognize the sound, but he didn't turn around, just tightening his grip on Crow, and walking on, quickly, down the hall. When he'd gotten a little ahead of Ange, Tetht whispered "There's nothing you or I can do for him now. Try to forget it."

Forget it! Crow wanted to ... wanted to ...

"... don't worry when it happens," Corva had said. The feathers. Don't worry? THAT was part of Kerasu's plan? Don't worry?

Crow thought about Mark and Kerasu, Mark admitting he'd never had a friend, what Tetht had said about the needle. Corva's voice came back to him. "We're going to teach him to fly,"

"I hope so," he said, not caring what Tetht would make of it. Twins, please, teach him to fly!

Down one corridor, down two sets of stairs, and Crow almost threw up when they walked through the underpens. The corridor was full of cages, stacked three high. Two and half feet high, two and a half feet wide, and six feet long, of smooth iron bars. An orc's head stuck out of each one, with a bolt underneath holding the cage shut. Crow didn't need Tetht to tell him that the pipes they were sucking on were delivering feed and water. The orcs themselves varied from thin to grossly obese. One of them was so large that rolls of flesh were hanging out of its cage, but that might have been partially from its position; it had its legs bent forward so it could fit into the otherwise too-small cage.

As he passed it, he could hear it slurping down from the pipe. Lady Ange wrinkled her nose, but Crow was only surprised that it didn't smell worse. "And all of these ..."

"Five more pens," said Tetht, "but they're just like these. And these are on the way. How long does it please My Lady to inspect the pens?"

Ange shook her head. "It all seems straightforward enough. Although ... how long do they stay in these cages?"

"About five months," said Tetht, walking down the corridor. "It varies. That one," and Tetht indicated the grossly fat one who had outgrown the cage, "is ready, and she's only been here for ..." he leaned over to read something chalked on the door. "three months."

"And you've got ..."

"One hundred and eighty here, and a little more than that capacity in the other pens. One thousand one hundred and fifty eight, when they're all full. I think we're about forty short of full right now, Great Lady."

"I'm impressed," said Ange, stopping halfway to examine the notes on a bottom cage.

"We can only handle about a hundred half-elves, though. Put them in a pen like this, they just die," said Tetht. "Orcs don't really care."

"How do you keep them eating?"

"Maremine. We add a little to the feed, and once they're addicted, they can't stop eating."

Ange stared at him, and hurried to catch up. "You didn't ..."

"No, not for Spider -"_ Crow! _ "- I don't know if the addiction would wear off ..."

"It does not," said Ange, calmly. "The craving just gets more and more intense. Do you usually use it on half-elves?"

"Yes," said Tetht. "When I know they'll be staying, of course. It takes about a week, and then they're quite eager for their feedings."

I hate these two, thought Crow. I just hate them. He concentrated on not tensing up; the last thing he wanted was to alert Tetht to how ... repulsive he found this. He wasn't sure if he deceived Tetht; the orc seemed remarkably alert to body language.

Ange, of course, would see only what she wanted to.

Tetht had reached a door at the far end, he shifted Crow tenderly to support him with only one arm, and opened it. Jack scurried up to him. "Sir! Sir! Everything's ready! I ..." the second orc caught sight of Ange, and instantly dropped prostrate to the ground."

Ange nodded approvingly.

Tetht paused, and then turned back to face Ange. "Great Lady, perhaps Spider -" _ Crow! _"- should be sent back to Your Ladyship's palanquin? Your slave will need both hands free for the demonstration ..."

"He is often a nuisance," Ange said dismissively. "Yes, certainly. Send him."

Tetht set Crow down carefully by the other orc. "Jack, please carry this half-elf back to Great Lady Ange's palanquin. He is to wait there, in the palanquin, until the Great Lady is pleased to end her tour of our facilities. You will wait with him, and attend him until I or the Great Lady dismiss you. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," came the voice, muffled slightly from his position on the floor.

"Good," murmured Tetht, as he set Crow down on the floor.

"Great Lady? Do you have any questions? Should I take you to the plant?"

Ange turned around once, a full circle, seeing Crow-knew-not-what in the caged orcs around her, but her shining eyes saw something, Crow knew. Tetht's face and voice as usual, betrayed nothing, his tone the same pleasantly neutral as always.

What, Crow suddenly wondered, did Tetht see in Ange's eyes? What did she see in his, if she even troubled herself to look.

"Yes," Ange said, finally, reaching out to run a finger down the face of a feeding orc. "Yes. I've seen enough here. Yes."

"As you wish, Great Lady," Tetht said, and walked on through the door. Ange followed him, pausing only to look back, once, before they turned a corner.

Why, Crow wondered, would she look back at me?

What was happening in that twisted mind?

Trust the Twins, he thought, trust the Twins.

Jack pulled himself off the floor, grabbed Crow roughly and dumped him over his shoulder. "Elf," he said, making the word into a curse.

"Half-elf," Crow said back, lightly.

Jack stopped halfway down the corridor, dropped Crow onto the ground, and then crouched beside him. An orc's head was fastened into the cage there, and it watched the both of them as it nursed on the iron pipe between its jaws.

"That pipe goes in four inches, elf, did you know that?" Jack said angrily. "He - she - can't take it out, can't even talk. Just lay there, swallowing. Half an elf, a quarter of an elf, I don't care - you're an elf."

"I didn't do that," said Crow, surprised. "Why are you ..." he stopped, not sure what to say next. Jack just laughed, a short, bleak sound totally devoid of humor, and picked Crow up again.

"We all end up like that, elf," Jack said. "Only elves don't. I'm due, you know. When I turned thirty. In a month, or two, certainly in a year, I'll be in one of these little cages, and the only difference between me and most of these ..." he stopped, designating the orcs watching him, "is ..." he fell silent.

"Is what?"

"Not here," Jack said terse with anger or something else, and the burly orc wouldn't say another word until they were out of the underpens. Something in him loosened, then, Crow could feel a tension leave him.

"So Tetht will end up like that, too?" Crow asked, almost hopefully.

Jack laughed again, and again there was neither amusement nor a hint of anything other than pain. "Tetht was here when I started here - I was five."

Five - physical maturity for an orc, Crow thought.

"He was in charge, and he'd been in charge as long as any of the others knew. I'm thirty, elf, a baby to you," and Crow was surprised again, he was almost sixty, but ... he knew, intellectually, an orc was old at forty. "Tetht is at least a hundred, by my guess, and he doesn't look older than ten. No, Tetht isn't for the cages. I don't know what will happen to him, but ... not that, I think."

"And the difference?" Crow asked.

"I know what's waiting for me when I get fat enough," Jack said bitterly. "I don't have to guess, wonder, or even hope - I know. I know what's going to happen, I know what Tetht is showing Ange right now."

"I'm sorry," Crow offered. "I don't know what else to say."

"There's nothing to say. There's nothing to do. Do you know what Tetht - what I do to orcs when they're all nice and plump? Do you, elf?"

"No," Crow said. "I'm guessing it's not nice."

"No," said Jack briefly. "It's not."

Crow didn't want to know, didn't want to ask, but he finally said, "Do you want to tell me about it?"

The orc jerked to a halt. "Why? So you can laugh?"

"No," Crow said softly. "So I can cry. Do you think what Ange," and Jack shuddered at the mention, "has planned for me is any better? Different, maybe, but ... she has something planned. I don't think we're that different."

Jack snorted disbelievingly, but he didn't say anything until they were back in the corridor, passing his cell.

"Mark!" Jack said, stopping suddenly. "Mark ..."

"It was ... her," Crow said into the silence. Jack put Crow down, and went over to Mark's body. The large orc kneeled by the smaller one's body, and sighed. Jack reached out, closed Mark's eyes.

"Does ... does Tetht know?"

"Yes," said Crow.

"Oh." Jack was quiet for a little while. "Funny. The one who didn't understand what was happening ... what would happen. And it doesn't happen to him. Can't say I'm sorry, I suppose."

"So ... what would happen? What did ..." the Twins get him out of, Crow wanted to say, but that wouldn't make any sense. "... what did he avoid?" Crow asked, instead.

"Have you ever seen a spider eat an insect?" Jack replied, and at first, the answer didn't make sense.

"Spider-food? That's ..."

"No," Jack cut him off. "Not that. Have you?"

"Yes," said Crow. He lived in a elven city; with spiders everywhere one would need to be blind not to know how they ate.

"They spin a cocoon around an insect, and then ... they inject it with poison. It turns to liquid, and the spider sucks it dry. All that's left is the shell."

"Yes," said Crow.

"Well," said Jack, staring down at Mark's body as if the motionless form could tell him something, "Tetht mixes up something from brown spider venom, rocksnake venom, and fruit juice, and when I'm nice and plump, as Tetht puts it, he'll inject me with about a quarter cup. He'll wait for an hour or so, and I'll start to feel a tingle, and then he'll drag me into a tank of water - Tetht calls it a hydrocaust, because it allows him to set the the temperature just so.

"He'll buckle me in, head above the water so I can breathe, with five others, all poisoned just like I was, and then the water will heat up, and the poison will start melting me. Not all of me, you understand - just the fat, turning to oil, and it will ooze through the skin, and bubble up to the top, where it drains off into a collector." Jack's voice had gone distant, almost clinical, and quieter.

"I'll be aware," Jack continued. "I'll feel myself melting, and it will hurt - a lot, and I'll scream, along with the other orcs with me, of course, for hours - it takes about six hours, and then my eyes will pop. The poison takes a long time to break down the eyes, but the eyes go just before the muscles - my heart will melt, and then ... then I'll be dead.

"But it's not finished, not yet," Jack said. "No, not even close. Our bodies stay in the hot water, until they're just sacks of skin, with a clutter of bones in them. When the hydrocaust is done, are fetched out, the skin goes straight to the tanners, and the bones get ground up for feed. All the leather here is orcskin, elf. Almost," Jack added.

"No elfskin?" asked Crow. "From the way Tetht was talking, that first day ..."

"No," whispered Jack, more to Mark's body than to Crow. "The elfskin doesn't stay here. But yeah, when Tetht is finished you elves, you get skinned, too."

Jack looked back at Crow, and sighed. "I don't know if Mark was lucky or not."

Lucky, thought Crow. Definitely lucky, but ... not why you think. "Lucky," said Crow, confidently.

"You think," sighed Jack, and then walked over, and picked Crow up again - more gently, this time. "Maybe. I hope."

Crow said nothing, just remembering the brush of feathers - wings, he thought, when Ange had killed the little orc.

Jack didn't say anything more, even when they were back outside, waiting at Ange's palanquin, and Crow couldn't really think of anything to say that would be helpful, so they waited in silence for quite some time until Tetht escorted Ange back.

Ange had an euphoric expression, while Tetht looked neutral.

Tetht suddenly looked at Crow hard, and then back to Ange, and surprise flickered briefly across his face before it returned to its usual masklike neutrality.

"Spider," _ Crow! _"the most marvelous contraption, the hypocaust, most amazing," she said, almost gushing. Her eyes were bright with her excitement - Crow thought about what Jack had described.

Horrible woman.

"We're going home, Spider -" _ Crow! _ "- it's amazing, simply ... wonderful," Ange said, breathlessly. "It's - how do I describe it? So simple, so elegant! A box of glass, a hot air vent, carefully controlled, and it renders the orc down to oil and waste in an hour!" Ange giggled, and then spoke sharply to the porters. "Home! Now!"

They lifted the palanquin with the sureness of long practice, and Ange lay back on the cushions. "I should have brought you down, Spider -" _ Crow! _"- you would have enjoyed it."

"Yes, Mistress," replied Crow, thinking he'd just about rather have done anything else.

Ange held up a small glass bottle, filled with clear ...

Oil, Crow realized, and somehow, he managed not to be sick.

"Before filtering," Ange said, admiringly.

"Yes, Mistress."

Ange held up the bottle, turned it over, watched the thick liquid pour from side, and smiled dreamily. "Imagine if I had a hypocaust at the estate," she whispered.

Crow had no trouble imagining it, and wished desperately that he did.

Ange looked at Crow for a moment. "You could learn to operate it, I think, without much trouble. You're skilled with your hands." She turned her attention back to the bottle. "It will have to be beautiful, though," she said. "Something special."

"Perhaps if it were kobold-make?" suggested Crow, stirred by some odd impulse, like the tickling of a feather on the inside of his skull, to make the suggestion.

"Brilliant!" said Ange. "Yes!" She looked at Crow. "What a delicious idea! You deserve a reward for that, my dear ..." she fell silent again. "I know just the thing."

"Thank you, Mistress," said Crow.

She smiled lazily. "You'll come with me, of course, to order it."

"Yes, Mistress."

A sense of satisfaction that Crow_knew_ wasn't his folded around him, like a pair of wings.