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It had been meant to be a routine raid on those witless surfacers. Of course, it hadn't happened quite like that.

They had come across a small caravan of what had looked like easy pickings, and the Sorceress had ordered him to try and get ahead of their route, to find a way to waylay them, but they had proven far more than mere fat merchants - the sounds of battle and steel on steel still rang in his head from when their prey had drawn weapons and tore into his hapless raiding party, just like the blow that made his head swim and throb before plunging him into darkness.
Before-

The drow wriggled experimentally in the gloom, feeling something familiarly smooth and secure lashed around his wrists. An experimental tug indicated they were connected to his similarly crossed and bound ankles. They’d tied him up with his own spidersilk rope.
But that wasn't the worst of it. Some thick material was fastened between his lips, now soggy with saliva, and he could feel not only the absence of his armour or indeed everything but his tunic and boots, but something cool encircling his neck.

These wretched surfacers had collared him like an animal! He mumbled a curse through the thick gag as he struggled into a kneeling position, wishing he could spit it out, that he could see the knots keeping him helpless in the cruelly tight ropes, that-
Wait. Did he just hear a jingle?
Another tentative squirm confirmed it. The collar fastened around his neck had a bell attached to it, he could barely even twitch without it making some kind of noise, like some prized pet cat.

Confronted with the depths of his humiliating predicament, the captive fought the urge to scream in frustration, instead letting out an annoyed grunt and testing his bonds while examining his surroundings.
He could see a campfire with several figures lying or sitting around it, the shape of the cart in both his night vision and the fire’s glow, but he couldn't find anything else he recognised before losing consciousness.
By the Spider Queen, the Sorceress was going to kill him. It was nearly dawn already and he’d somehow gotten himself kidnapped by the very people he should be dragging back to the tunnels by now. Even if he were to somehow free himself of the ropes and gag and ridiculous collar and flee his captors, he was hopelessly lost and his head still hurt.

And that escape was increasingly unlikely. One of the figures around the campfire had got up and was approaching him. It was a clumsy, brutish, disgusting human, and a male one at that, dressed in glittering armour and smirking. He could just die of shame at the very thought of being the prisoner of a creature so blatantly inferior!
Although a treacherous thought snaked its way from the back of his mind. Perhaps he wasn't so inferior as he’d thought: after all he wasn't the one on his knees at the other’s mercy. In fact, from the right angle he did have some suitably drow-ish qualities, pasty flesh and graceless body notwithstanding…

The young man knelt down to the glaring captive, swiftly reaching around his head and loosening the cloth bifurcating his lips before the dark elf could so much as mumble in complaint. “I see you're awake, was worried you might’ve hit your head too hard. Need anything?” he spoke.
“How dare you! Unhand me and let me go right now, y-you hairy, foul-smelling, crude, oafish-” Almost as quickly as it had been removed the gag was stuffed into the prisoner's open mouth and fastened in place more tightly than before, his insults replaced with incoherent growls and the almost taunting jingles of his collar as he writhed indignantly.
“Now, now. Didn't anyone ever teach you how to be polite down there? If you haven't got anything good to say…” Suddenly the drow felt his chin being cupped with one firm hand, the human staring him right in the eyes. “You know, you're a pretty one. Smooth skin, long hair. I can see why Elisia was talking about selling you if she could find a buyer.”
Oh no. The drow’s red eyes went from being narrowed in anger to wide with fright. He’d seen what his kind had done to the unlucky surfacers that weren't given to the Spider Queen as tribute, and it’d surely be so much worse in reverse. He’d be forced to work endlessly for hundreds of years - or worse, kept as a mewling exotic plaything for some rich noble, never to have any freedom or any kind of life outside of his owner’s whims-

A gentle hand running through his platinum-white hair snapped him out of his terrified reverie. “Of course, I told her we were better than that. Still no idea what we're actually going to do with you, like, but we're not that cruel. Shh, shh.” He realised he must have made some kind of involuntary noise through his gag in his fear, and that somehow convinced this imbecile to try and comfort him like he would do to a soft surfacer child - the human was even holding his bound body in an embrace!
His anger redoubled, he thrashed wildly and tried to yell a litany of threats through the thick cloth, hoping the damned fool would at least recognise some of them despite their muffled nature and the bell’s incessant chimes.

The human held onto the writhing, delicate ebony frame with ease: the restriction of the hogtie meant trying to slip free of his arms was nearly impossible, and trying to force his strong grip was out of the question. “Now, you had better learn to calm down. You’re the only one who made it out of that attack with all their bits attached. None of your friends are going to rescue you, and we're going to treat you a lot better than you think.” Slowly the drow’s struggles began to subside as weariness and the gravity of his situation began to tell on him. His captor finally broke the hug, a mischievous smirk lighting his features again.
“If you're a good boy-” he punctuated this with a fingertip pressing onto the tip of the dark elf’s nose, eliciting a gagged protest, “we might take that cloth out of your mouth. Untie your ankles and let you walk instead of ride. Pick you out something to go over that tunic so you don't catch a cold or something.”

Beneath his dark hair the human warrior's eyes gleamed with a sudden impulse. “Come to think of it, sit right there. It's nearly time for someone else to take watch, and it looks like I’m the one stuck with keeping an eye on you.” With that he got up and lumbered towards the cart, leaving the abducted drow alone with his thoughts and uncomfortably aware of the cool night air on his bare limbs. Was the man telling the truth? If so he was free of the Sorceress’ demands for the first time in his life. Not that she’d bother with rescuing him if she still lived, of course, it was amusing that the human was so ignorant to think he was anything but expendable. Still, if he were wrong and the survivors attacked again he could probably escape in the chaos.

Then again, if he played the long game and fooled these people into allowing him more freedom he might be able to slip free. And as much as it galled him to have to play along with being a ‘good boy’ he had little choice in his current state. The drow’s train of thought was suddenly broken by the larger male returning, several coils of familiar cream-hued cord in one hand.
“Well, gotta get you ready for bed. Your friends left us lots of this stuff, I’m no expert but it feels comfy enough.”
More spidersilk ropes. Confusion filled the captive’s mind: how would tying him up further help? It didn't help when the rope fell away from his ankles and his boots were slid off. For a moment he considered kicking out and trying to run, but a hand on one thigh dissuaded him. Besides, going barefoot in the middle of nowhere with a bell announcing his presence to anything with ears was a bad idea.

The touch on his thigh made him fidget in his wrist bindings, the sudden realisation that his captor’s hand was mere inches from the hem of his tunic making him flush with heat and try to stifle a noise. It was a human, it’d be disgusting, wrong! The bound drow shuddered and hoped it could be mistaken as a shiver, then tensed as the silky strands of rope slowly wrapped around his ankles again, this time on bare skin.
He had to admit, as a second coil steadily bound his lower thighs together, the silken ropes felt surprisingly comfortable as they contrasted against his obsidian flesh. Finally, a third length of cord pinned his upper arms to his sides, and he felt the cloth in his mouth loosen - just enough to be able to push it outwards but not enough for it to stay there.

“Can't have you choking in your sleep after going to all this trouble. Better not try screaming and waking everyone up though, because if you keep me awake I’ll re-tie you so you won't be getting any rest either.” To the captive’s unpleasant surprise, the human scooped his helplessly trussed body up into his arms with surprising ease and a jingle from his collar, one arm behind his shoulders and the other with its hand again flirting with the edge of his thin tunic. He didn't dare twitch for fear of that hand sliding beneath it, although part of him wondered why it was that in particular that worried him.

The drow boy saw what looked like a dwarf stifle a yawn from his bedroll before shooting him a strange look as he was carried past, seeing a larger, empty bedroll ahead.
“Haven't got any spares in the cart, sorry. Besides, I’d rather keep you close, just in case anything happens. And you probably wouldn't mind the warmth.” came the voice just above his head, shortly before he was lowered and placed atop the unfolded mass of cotton and furs while his human keeper began to remove his own armour.
Oh no.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

It had been meant to be a routine raid on those witless surfacers. Of course, it hadn't happened quite like that.

They had come across a small caravan of what had looked like easy pickings, and the Sorceress had ordered him to try and get ahead of their route, to find a way to waylay them, but they had proven far more than mere fat merchants - the sounds of battle and steel on steel still rang in his head from when their prey had drawn weapons and tore into his hapless raiding party, just like the blow that made his head swim and throb before plunging him into darkness.
Before-

The drow wriggled experimentally in the gloom, feeling something familiarly smooth and secure lashed around his wrists. An experimental tug indicated they were connected to his similarly crossed and bound ankles. They’d tied him up with his own spidersilk rope.
But that wasn't the worst of it. Some thick material was fastened between his lips, now soggy with saliva, and he could feel not only the absence of his armour or indeed everything but his tunic and boots, but something cool encircling his neck.

These wretched surfacers had collared him like an animal! He mumbled a curse through the thick gag as he struggled into a kneeling position, wishing he could spit it out, that he could see the knots keeping him helpless in the cruelly tight ropes, that-
Wait. Did he just hear a jingle?
Another tentative squirm confirmed it. The collar fastened around his neck had a bell attached to it, he could barely even twitch without it making some kind of noise, like some prized pet cat.

Confronted with the depths of his humiliating predicament, the captive fought the urge to scream in frustration, instead letting out an annoyed grunt and testing his bonds while examining his surroundings.
He could see a campfire with several figures lying or sitting around it, the shape of the cart in both his night vision and the fire’s glow, but he couldn't find anything else he recognised before losing consciousness.
By the Spider Queen, the Sorceress was going to kill him. It was nearly dawn already and he’d somehow gotten himself kidnapped by the very people he should be dragging back to the tunnels by now. Even if he were to somehow free himself of the ropes and gag and ridiculous collar and flee his captors, he was hopelessly lost and his head still hurt.

And that escape was increasingly unlikely. One of the figures around the campfire had got up and was approaching him. It was a clumsy, brutish, disgusting human, and a male one at that, dressed in glittering armour and smirking. He could just die of shame at the very thought of being the prisoner of a creature so blatantly inferior!
Although a treacherous thought snaked its way from the back of his mind. Perhaps he wasn't so inferior as he’d thought: after all he wasn't the one on his knees at the other’s mercy. In fact, from the right angle he did have some suitably drow-ish qualities, pasty flesh and graceless body notwithstanding…

The young man knelt down to the glaring captive, swiftly reaching around his head and loosening the cloth bifurcating his lips before the dark elf could so much as mumble in complaint. “I see you're awake, was worried you might’ve hit your head too hard. Need anything?” he spoke.
“How dare you! Unhand me and let me go right now, y-you hairy, foul-smelling, crude, oafish-” Almost as quickly as it had been removed the gag was stuffed into the prisoner's open mouth and fastened in place more tightly than before, his insults replaced with incoherent growls and the almost taunting jingles of his collar as he writhed indignantly.
“Now, now. Didn't anyone ever teach you how to be polite down there? If you haven't got anything good to say…” Suddenly the drow felt his chin being cupped with one firm hand, the human staring him right in the eyes. “You know, you're a pretty one. Smooth skin, long hair. I can see why Elisia was talking about selling you if she could find a buyer.”
Oh no. The drow’s red eyes went from being narrowed in anger to wide with fright. He’d seen what his kind had done to the unlucky surfacers that weren't given to the Spider Queen as tribute, and it’d surely be so much worse in reverse. He’d be forced to work endlessly for hundreds of years - or worse, kept as a mewling exotic plaything for some rich noble, never to have any freedom or any kind of life outside of his owner’s whims-

A gentle hand running through his platinum-white hair snapped him out of his terrified reverie. “Of course, I told her we were better than that. Still no idea what we're actually going to do with you, like, but we're not that cruel. Shh, shh.” He realised he must have made some kind of involuntary noise through his gag in his fear, and that somehow convinced this imbecile to try and comfort him like he would do to a soft surfacer child - the human was even holding his bound body in an embrace!
His anger redoubled, he thrashed wildly and tried to yell a litany of threats through the thick cloth, hoping the damned fool would at least recognise some of them despite their muffled nature and the bell’s incessant chimes.

The human held onto the writhing, delicate ebony frame with ease: the restriction of the hogtie meant trying to slip free of his arms was nearly impossible, and trying to force his strong grip was out of the question. “Now, you had better learn to calm down. You’re the only one who made it out of that attack with all their bits attached. None of your friends are going to rescue you, and we're going to treat you a lot better than you think.” Slowly the drow’s struggles began to subside as weariness and the gravity of his situation began to tell on him. His captor finally broke the hug, a mischievous smirk lighting his features again.
“If you're a good boy-” he punctuated this with a fingertip pressing onto the tip of the dark elf’s nose, eliciting a gagged protest, “we might take that cloth out of your mouth. Untie your ankles and let you walk instead of ride. Pick you out something to go over that tunic so you don't catch a cold or something.”

Beneath his dark hair the human warrior's eyes gleamed with a sudden impulse. “Come to think of it, sit right there. It's nearly time for someone else to take watch, and it looks like I’m the one stuck with keeping an eye on you.” With that he got up and lumbered towards the cart, leaving the abducted drow alone with his thoughts and uncomfortably aware of the cool night air on his bare limbs. Was the man telling the truth? If so he was free of the Sorceress’ demands for the first time in his life. Not that she’d bother with rescuing him if she still lived, of course, it was amusing that the human was so ignorant to think he was anything but expendable. Still, if he were wrong and the survivors attacked again he could probably escape in the chaos.

Then again, if he played the long game and fooled these people into allowing him more freedom he might be able to slip free. And as much as it galled him to have to play along with being a ‘good boy’ he had little choice in his current state. The drow’s train of thought was suddenly broken by the larger male returning, several coils of familiar cream-hued cord in one hand.
“Well, gotta get you ready for bed. Your friends left us lots of this stuff, I’m no expert but it feels comfy enough.”
More spidersilk ropes. Confusion filled the captive’s mind: how would tying him up further help? It didn't help when the rope fell away from his ankles and his boots were slid off. For a moment he considered kicking out and trying to run, but a hand on one thigh dissuaded him. Besides, going barefoot in the middle of nowhere with a bell announcing his presence to anything with ears was a bad idea.

The touch on his thigh made him fidget in his wrist bindings, the sudden realisation that his captor’s hand was mere inches from the hem of his tunic making him flush with heat and try to stifle a noise. It was a human, it’d be disgusting, wrong! The bound drow shuddered and hoped it could be mistaken as a shiver, then tensed as the silky strands of rope slowly wrapped around his ankles again, this time on bare skin.
He had to admit, as a second coil steadily bound his lower thighs together, the silken ropes felt surprisingly comfortable as they contrasted against his obsidian flesh. Finally, a third length of cord pinned his upper arms to his sides, and he felt the cloth in his mouth loosen - just enough to be able to push it outwards but not enough for it to stay there.

“Can't have you choking in your sleep after going to all this trouble. Better not try screaming and waking everyone up though, because if you keep me awake I’ll re-tie you so you won't be getting any rest either.” To the captive’s unpleasant surprise, the human scooped his helplessly trussed body up into his arms with surprising ease and a jingle from his collar, one arm behind his shoulders and the other with its hand again flirting with the edge of his thin tunic. He didn't dare twitch for fear of that hand sliding beneath it, although part of him wondered why it was that in particular that worried him.

The drow boy saw what looked like a dwarf stifle a yawn from his bedroll before shooting him a strange look as he was carried past, seeing a larger, empty bedroll ahead.
“Haven't got any spares in the cart, sorry. Besides, I’d rather keep you close, just in case anything happens. And you probably wouldn't mind the warmth.” came the voice just above his head, shortly before he was lowered and placed atop the unfolded mass of cotton and furs while his human keeper began to remove his own armour.
Oh no.