To Live and Uplift Underground 4


The trick to not being a victim in a society like the Drows was to take no chances. 


When I was young, I presumed this to be the unique outcome of being at the bottom rung of Drow society. That, due to our lack of resources, Outskirt Drow had more reason to prey on others. When, as I would eventually find out, we only ever had more of a justification for doing so. Unlike the city Drow, however, we had a lot less that we could afford to lose before all we had were our lives.


And that meant that survivor bias only favored certain mindsets.


Paranoia fit me like a glove in this life, because it required nothing more from me except avoiding everything. A coward’s way fit a coward’s heart, so long as survival trumped all else.


But the second it didn’t, cracks revealed themselves.


Because if paranoia could make it so that you could not lose, it also stopped you from winning.


Of course, my cousins would have thought that assessment laughable, given what I’d seemingly “gained” through nearly two and a half decades; I was a 25-year-old male that was blooded. But it wasn’t like I could really take the credit for that. Though I was in undeniable danger following after my cousin, it was never my decision to do so, and Jarna’t was always between me and the action. All the while, I always did whatever I could to minimize said danger. It was why I could never dismiss my male cousin’s gripes, because I was riding her star.


But now I was taking the rather unwise decision to do more.


Since I couldn’t stay holed up in our home tunnels and get anything done, I had prepared to go outside. 


I had gathered information. 


After talking with Aunt Kan’a, I asked the women in charge of divvying things from Mother, and then nosed around to check on the biggest dangers. Lo and behold, Aunt Talia’s crew had gone up to the city. I expected it, but the timing of it was immaculate anyway and was something I didn’t have to wait long for.


After all, with their successful raid, Aunt Talia and her girls could afford to go and trade things.


No Outskirt Drow could go inside the city, of course, but the city's poor and other outcasts also sometimes scavenged their city’s waste. Or silently added to it for one reason or another. Point was, they were a contact to access the city’s wealth and thus could stave off ruination by accepting what valuable things we found and trading us things we couldn’t get ourselves. Since the nobles and city guard alike would rather not even acknowledge our existence, a lot of blind eyes were turned.


But this was contingent on everyone not bringing attention to themselves.


While not perfect, this resulted in the closest thing we had to areas of neutrality for the Outskirt Drow. And because it was, it was also the only place where Outskirt Drow could freely trade among themselves, too.


It wasn’t perfect, things still happened from time to time, but it was the closest thing we had to a center of community life. It was honestly the only reason why the Outskirt Drow could even be said to be a community.


The ability, the opportunity, to go there was talked about in hushed excitement by girls my age in the gang. The privilege to freely do so outside of crew trips even being highly contested.


And that was why I was fairly sure that I would not be bothered that day. Because no gang woman would have willingly stayed behind.


But it just goes to show me that I should have been watching out for the unwilling.


The girls before me were Younger Talia, who was actually Aunt Talia’s granddaughter, and Nis’a and Tisa, whose parentages I wasn’t sure of. Despite technically being our age, Younger Talia was Jarn’at’s niece, as were Nis’a and Tisa probably.


They were of a height with Jarn’at, being around 5 feet and 5-7 inches each. Younger Talia was the shortest and as tall as I was, while Tisa the tallest. Nis’a stood out by having a button nose, but Talia had chubby cheeks that indicated some degree of favoritism, which was to be expected, I suppose: there was a reason why even I knew who her grandmother was.


Tisa was very lithe, as was standard among the Outskirts. Her breasts, hips and ass were not particularly noticeable; The problem was that she wasn’t thin in a way that would make them stand out. Still pretty, because Elves were, but beautiful was ever relative, I suppose.


Younger Talia had breasts as big as Jarna’t, but she was top heavy: her hip and ass were not like my cousin’s.


Or her own grandmother, for that matter.


Nis’a did have a rather plumb behind and thick thighs, which was good, because that was her hips and ass were even smaller than the two other girls.


Don’t get me wrong, I still thought them attractive. Now, you might think that it was because I had a whole past life to contrast them to, and that did play a part in it. But there was something more than that.


Because you can’t be apathetic to something when your life is on the line. When adrenaline is rushing to your veins, and every instinct that you have is screaming to run away, you HAD to form an opinion about things.


So their attraction hurt.


But I couldn’t run away.


Not anymore.


“I courtsey, cousin; haven’t seen you in a while,” Talia said as she twirled the primitive little weapon that I’d made, “Didn’t you get blooded with us?”


“Yeah, at 25, too. Isn’t that almost unheard of for a male?” Nis’a flanked her.


“Could be that it's because males almost always die when they go to the front,” Tisa said, also gathering on Talia’s other side, “So there aren’t exactly many males TO be blooded.”


“Hey, cousins,” I weakly said, the things I’d gathered keeping me as chained to this place as adamantium shackles would have.


“Hey, was Arione in the frontline, though?” Talia feigned some confusion, “I recall seeing him there, of course, but it almost feels as though he was hiding behind-hah, Auntie Jarna’t, wasn’t it?”


“She did all the fighting,” Nis’a shook her head in sadness.


“While you did all the hiding,” Tisa also tsked along, “Almost seems unfair you both got blooded. Then again, you WERE her male when that was happening, weren’t you?”


I knew a reckoning of sorts awaited me in the future. There were no actions free of any consequence, down here. I had decided that the prospects of pain could not stop me anymore.


But that wasn’t the same as saying that it didn’t hurt.


Without knowing, the most harm they did to me were those words. Because, while it was plainly obvious that they were just playing around, their words were utterly true. More the fool me, for not having mentally prepared for getting my betrayal rubbed in my face.


“Oh, my goddess, is that-that a tear?” Talia gasped with delight.


“J-just tell me what you are here for.” Tears were for children, of course, but for many women, crinkling your eyes was as good as shedding one. Especially, if it helped land ‘the joke’.


“Oh, so you want to rush things?” she said, and the three girls laughed, “Especially when I am being so nice?”


“P-please?” I said, knowing that this was just the prelude.


“Alright, here’s the point:” she thrusted the knife-club towards, making me flinch back from its sharp stone point “We cane to collect.”


She let the point of the weapon linger for a moment before retracting it.


But instead of letting it hang at her side, the knife-club began to twirl in her fingers, “Now, we heard about the little improvement you made to it, Aunt Kana’s bitches wouldn’t stop laughing about it, so it’s only right we try it for ourselves, isn’t it?”


“You’ll give it to Jarna’t?” I rhetorically asked.


“If she’s happy to owe me a favor,” she said, “Otherwise, I’ll use it for Jarna’t.”


“She’ll be mad,” I informed her, out of reflex more than anything else.


“Oh, Auntie can be whatever she likes,” Talia laughed, “So long as she keeps it to herself.”


“She got to go with the crew while I, well-” Talia winked at me, “I get to get this stick.”


“Seems fair, doesn’t it?”


‘Very,” Nis’a nodded.


“Absolutely,” Tisa said as well.


“Although…” Talia tossed her hair back, feigning being deep in thought, “Hmmm, I don’t know, it seems like coming here just to get a stupid stick is hardly worth the trouble, doesn’t it?’


“It’d be a waste of your time,” Nis’a nodded again.


“Of everyone’s time,” Tisa nodded even harder.


“So I am thinking just this stick isn’t enough,” Talia opined as she looked at all the sticks and stones I’d gathered so far. At the rat bones and nails that I was boiling.


It might seem ridiculous now, but at that moment, I had no idea how I would replace any of them if she took them. 


So I got and my knees.


And begged.


“Please, no, I-I’ll do anything,” I said, looking at my materials with worry, “Anything you say!”


“Anything?” All of their smirks got wider.


“Anything!” I confirmed.


All things had a price, and not running away meant paying it up front. 


The tilt of their smiles, the slight heat in their eyes.


The way they leaned towards me, as if to loom over me, were the old steps of a dance any Drow would have recognized. Shake-downs were not uncommon, but power plays were often deadly.


But I wasn’t dying, and Talia wasn’t killing. She still had power over me. And power?


Power was sexy.


She put a bare dusky foot forward and hitched up the skirt that she had, “Then convince me.”


There were eyes looking from the entrance of our home tunnels, no doubt. Entertainment wasn’t in high supply in the Outskirts, after all.


And Tisa and Nis’a were right there, beside. Leering as I crawled forward.


And planted my lips on the cradle of Talia’s ankle.


“Hmm, that’s a good start, but I am still not sure,” she made sounds of appreciation as I sucked up the skin of her ankle.


I recall feeling some of the warmth from her skin, and, this close to her crotch, the smell of her musk. I recall the salty taste of dried sweat, mixed with the oils her skin naturally produced.


I recall feeling more and more ashamed as I went up, hesitating at first, but eventually holding on to her leg as I smooched her knee.


“He’s starting to look repentant, doesn’t he, girls?” Younger Talia’s smile had turned to one of true pleasure as I started kissing above her knee with my lips.


“Hmm, maybe enough to show us, too?” Nis’a bit the bottom of her lip as she watched me go up Talia’s thigh, the scent of musk getting stronger, and body having to press more against her leg as I leaned forward.


Many males cried for their first time, under these circumstances. It was one of the reasons why their virginities were even valued; inexperience added to the experience.


And I did feel bad.


Humiliated.


But I didn’t cry.


I wish I could say that it was a whole adult life that gave me the mental fortitude to keep my feelings bottled up, but that was a star I couldn’t claim.


Because that feeling of being ground down, demeaned? The choice being taken away from my hands, dominated? It called back to a few weeks ago when an older woman in authority had taken me in hand, and tenderly made me obsessed with continuing this.


I got close to her groin and, at long last, hesitated. But not because I didn’t want to continue-


“Don’t you DARE stop,” Talia hissed as she took hold of her skirt and lifted it above her waist, revealing her silvery pubic patch, “Finish it.”


- But because the feeling of letting go of control was so intoxicating.


I thrust my head between her legs.


“Suck it, you bastard!” and then had my head sized and pulled into her slit.


Her pussy was slobbering; this whole thing had gotten her excited.


I had gotten her excited.


My tongue was quick to dart out and give her gash a lick.


“Yes, that way, you stupid male!” Talia moaned as I lapped up her fluids, her juices being faintly nutty as I swallowed them up, “Oh, you are so obedient, aren’t you?”


The words, the words.


They made me go faster.


“Yes, you know, your, ooooh-PLACE!” but it seems, I went too fast because she came.


Almost two minutes had passed from when I began to give her oral to when she came. 


As I retrieved my face from her crotch, my jaw sticky with her fluids, I was in shock.


“Goddess, that was good and, oh, was that your first time too?” Talia cooed as she noticed my seeming stupor.


“Then engrave it into your head!” she grabbed me by the hair and grinded my face into her cunt, “This is what a woman feels like!”


She thought she was breaking what she saw as the weak spirit of a male.


That she was traumatizing me.


But me?


I came.


“Oooh, yes, scream for me!” she hummed as I moaned into her, soiling my tunic with my semen as I spurted load after load into the ground.


But all things came to an end.


And this awakening did too.


Leaving me with heavy breaths as I stared at my hands, Younger Talia sighed as she placed her skirt over legs again.


“C-can I go next?” Nis’a breathlessly said, arousal clear in her face.


“The bitches from the other crews are watching,” Talia grunted, her smile still not leaving her face, “No telling what they’ll say if we actually gang bang him.”


“What if we take some of his trash?” Tisa eagerly said, pointing at the things I had sacrificed myself for, “He’d have to go where we tell him, and we could take him somewhere else to-”


“Tisa, maybe you can do me a favor,” despite her good mood, Talia frowned, “and you can stop being a stupid bitch for a second.”


“He made this shit out of Jarna’ts stick, and that’s why we can just take it,” she all but shoved it into Tisa’s face, “But he’s part of Kana’s crew now, and that means that his trash is HER trash.”


“Do you think grandmother would be happy if we took it upon ourselves to mug Karn’a for her?” she hissed.


And then gestured towards the entrance of our home tunnels.


“Where everyone can see us?”


“I-I’m sorry, Talia, I guess I wasn’t thinking,” Tisa shied back.


“Yeah,” Talia replied, “You weren’t.”


“As for you…” the Drow girl’s eyes were back on me. As was her smile, “Do try to keep better care of your things, won’t you?”


“Your fellow males can be so envious~”


They left after that, slipping through our tunnel barriers.


Leaving me alone with my thoughts.


Because I couldn’t…I couldn’t feel bad about this.


No matter how much I tried, no matter how the rational reaction to this was horror, it was like it had been with Aunt Karn’a: I had enjoyed it.


Somehow, I had enjoyed it.


Why had I enjoyed it?


I had run away from as much pain as I could for so long that at the moment of truth, I expected to find defense for my past actions. Something that justified my past cowardice.


Instead, I was fighting hard to find a reason to run away to begin with.


The hissing of waters nearby being depleted broke me out of my thoughts, and sent me running to take care of the broth.


While time-consuming, I had started doing this early enough that, by this point, a lot of collagen had been rendered out of the bones to justify putting the fire out. And the nails? They had been completely melted down.


I filtered the thing as I had planned to, through some rags that I had. All that was left was to let the clump dry on its own, and this…this it could do inside our home cave.


Life, however, wouldn’t stop for me to get my bearings or come to terms with myself. Because two things happened that day.


One, that very day the older unaffiliated males of the clan nursery, peers my age, started walking into our home tunnels with stones and rocks in tow.


In small unventilated areas, because they were out of the way, they started knocking one against the other, trying to knock flakes off…as I had done.


And they WERE trying to imitate me; they never failed to gloat with their eyes when they saw me looking. They wanted me to know.


Second, Aunt Talia’s crew came back from their trip to the City Cavern, a few knick-knacks and “new” equipment with them. But that wasn’t what drew my attention.


Because they had apparently happened across an unpassable target on the way back.


And brought back with them bushels of copper ore.