The battlefield lay silent under the stars. From the high platform, I gazed at distant orc campfires flickering like dying embers. The air was thick with anticipation—the calm before inevitable storm.
Then I heard it: faint cheers echoing Dragon Fury's name. His breath, his presence, his legend. Not fear stirring in me, but familiar disgust.
"I'm not afraid of him," I muttered inwardly. "I hate that I was once his student."
Serbei approached, oblivious.
"Lord Sorola, Dragon Fury's return boosts morale immensely."
I forced a nod, clasping his shoulder like old friends—hiding the bile rising. "Indeed. A timely hero."
Dragon Fury landed dramatically, as always. We exchanged greetings—his green ponytail unchanged, white-blue robe pristine. Outwardly cordial; inwardly, memories flooded.
Ten years ago—Father hosted the wandering sword saint. Impressed by my "potential," he demanded to train us brothers.
Not kindly mentor. Cold. Contemptuous of genius. Ruthless to "smart but soft" types like me.
First "lesson": no sword. Humiliation. Forced endless repeats of basic stances—public mockery in the yard. "You think cleverness wins wars? It makes cowards."
No sleep, no food—days blurred. Verbal barbs shredded pride: "Worthless. Your family wastes blood on you."
I broke—but refused to beg. That enraged him. Training escalated to hell.
Mutual torment: he broke my body daily—sparring until bones cracked, forcing runs with weighted packs until collapse. I countered by enduring—never crumbling, never quitting. My silence drove him mad. "Break, damn you!"
He tested: would I shatter or become monster?
Dragon Fury Four Absolutes wasn't glory—it was survival forged in agony. Each form: near-death. Soft Slash deflected spells by yielding force—learned dodging lightning he summoned inches from my skin.
He never praised. Closest: "You're not qualified to die yet."
That curse haunted me—shaped me.
Back to now: I understood. My training women, dismantling minds, rebuilding in pain—echoed how he'd "trained" me.
Not imitation—inherited. I didn't create slaves; I recreated my survival method.
"Master… you okay?" Jenna whispered, concern in her mismatched eyes.
I smiled lewdly, pulling her close. "Just thinking how to train you two properly tonight."
The grand elder coughed awkwardly nearby.
That night, despite curfew, I summoned Jenna and Xue Yan. War loomed—might be our last chance. Coming days decided victory; then Harvest Festival duties.
Both beauties knelt naked before me—awaiting commands. Five days dual training yielded results; they'd passed basic slave course.
Slaves categorized: love slaves (emotional + abuse, like these two) vs flesh slaves (pure torment + pleasure, like Fina—craving abuse).
Also: exhibitionists (thrill from exposure), humiliation types (arousal from shame), pet slaves (treated as dogs).
Lacked the latter three—yet. I'd hunt them diligently.
"No greeting for Master?"
Jenna and Xue Yan exchanged glances, then kissed my shoes left and right.
"Slaves Jenna and Xue Yan greet Master. Please favor us tonight."
I stroked their heads, placing two slave collars on the table.
"You've trained five days—know slave etiquette. Test now: pass, earn collars."
Their eyes locked on the collars—ultra-E steel, lightweight magic conduits. Front clasps engraved with triangle dragon heads. Silver for Jenna, blue for Xue Yan—matching hair and fur.
"What are your names?"
"… …"
They knew me—careful not to rush.
"… Slaves have no names. Please grant us, Master…" Xue Yan answered first—stronger slave instincts. Jenna looked down worriedly.
I removed a shoe, offering to Xue Yan—reward.
"Thank you, Master!"
Joyful, she lifted my foot, tongue cleaning devotedly. Jenna watched enviously—Xue Yan's bliss infectious.
Both nude beauties kneeling, competing on degrading questions—for foot-licking privilege. For saintess Jenna—ultimate shame.
But seeing Xue Yan's happy lewdness, Jenna itched for favor too.
"Good. You're now Yan Slave."
"Yan Slave thanks Master!" Genuine joy—not faked.
Glancing at Jenna—she bowed instantly.
"Summon—Silk Binding Serpent!"
The crimson serpent lunged, binding Jenna humiliatingly. Hands behind back, legs folded wide—exposing silver bush and crimson folds.
"Jenna—know your mistake?"
"Yes, Master." Jenna flushed red, humiliated—yet glistening wet. Stunning sight!
Master like commander—rewards/punishments clear. I cherished these girls, but occasional discipline built authority.
Chanting softly, Thunder Rings discharged minimal current—zapping sensitive spots. Jenna screamed, convulsing.
"Summon—Sweet Fruit!"
Plant-type training beast: red, porous, secreting tangy juice stimulating saliva—plus muffling sound.
It gagged Jenna—cries dampened.
Beside me, Xue Yan stared—hand unconsciously drifting to her pussy.
"Yan Slave… want a try?"
Her blush deepened—nodding shyly, burying face in my thighs. Stronger masochism—craving shocks.
"Hahaha… honest girl. Fine—Master indulges you. In Sorola's name, summon—Thunder Slime!"
White flash—a translucent giant white slime appeared behind Xue Yan, tentacles seizing limbs.
Xue Yan yelped at the unfamiliar beast—terrified.
Thunder Slime specialized in shocks—voltage several times Thunder Rings. Originally imperial harem torture tool—but Xue Yan precious. No overkill.
Even without max power, tentacles masterful—probing sensitive spots.
Tentacles swept nipples, pussy, ass—discharging 5 volts. Xue Yan jolted, lips quivering.
"Master… Yan Slave… ah… can't… "
Through electro-tendrils, I mapped her erogenous zones—body memorized.
Amped voltage slightly—former pure elf's blue eyes rolled up, saliva foaming, fingers clawing air, chin thrusting chestward, moans hoarse.
"Ah… Master… dying… dying!"
Xue Yan's naked body glistened sweat—snow skin dark red—yet pussy soaked.
Time. Commanded two tentacles to her crimson clit—current flowed.
Most fragile spot shocked—Xue Yan's face twisted agony, thrashing against bonds.
Screamed—head thrown back, back arched—then blank. No expression—only twitching flesh.
A golden stream sprayed from her secret place.
She'd pissed herself.
Felt like I'd forgotten someone…
"Master favors Yan Sister… ignores me."
Jenna pouted left—playful jealousy, unlike usual demure.
We three lounged on the bed—Jenna left, Xue Yan right.
Jenna calculating old scores from earlier neglect during Xue Yan's electrocution.
"I haven't scolded you yet. You failed standards—how can I pass you?"
"Master, be merciful—spare Jenna Sister."
Men are helpless. Two nude beauties begging and cooing—heart melts.
"Fine. Pass this time—but study hard. Be obedient and slutty slaves."
Jenna's thinner skin showed—speechless, only burying face in my chest.
"Hahaha… from now on, you're Lily Bitch."
"Lily… Bitch??" Jenna's face sank—more embarrassed.
"Heh heh heh… HAHAHA…"
Though not a pet slave, "bitch" suited her name. Lily Bitch—sounds great. Don't judge.
Finally, I collared them personally—officially my second and third cherished love slaves.