The Masochistic Elf's Shocking Secret
"You bought an elf as a sex slave? Are you out of your mind!?"
That's what he said. Is it really that shocking? The merchant was making such a huge fuss. I ignored him and reached for the teapot to pour some black tea, but his expression was unnervingly grave. Wasn't this just a joke? By now, my own stomach was starting to churn. What the hell? What's the big deal with elves?
"Listen... just to be sure, she's definitely young, right?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Pretty young, I guess."
"How old?"
"Just a bit over two hundred and fifty. Elves live about a thousand years on average, so in human terms, that's like twenty-five..."
"You mad bastard!"
The joke wasn't that funny, but cursing like that? Way too much. Making me feel awkward here.
"A two-hundred-and-fifty-year-old elf?"
But the merchant didn't seem to be reacting to my quip. "Pull yourself together, lad. If you haven't brought her home yet, cancel the purchase right now."
"Cancel? She's already been living at my place for the past ten days."
"You idiot! You know nothing about elves!"
Nothing? Come on, I know plenty. Tall, beautiful, long-lived... Okay, maybe I don't know much after all.
"Cut the dramatics and just tell me what's wrong. Spit it out."
"Sigh. Fine, I'll explain simply. Elves are born with spirit affinity and magical insight."
"Yeah, I know that much."
"Think about it. An elf's mana capacity grows to over twice a human's just from living day to day. What happens after they pass a hundred years? They reach a level where even top human mages have to bow down."
"Wait... really?"
"Why would I lie? And if your elf is two hundred and fifty... she's already at archmage level. No exaggeration."
A cold sweat trickled down my back as he spoke.
"Then why'd she get caught as a slave? An archmage wouldn't get nabbed by elf hunters in the Great Forest."
"She didn't get caught—she let herself get caught. How are you this clueless?"
"She let herself?"
"Bored with everyday life. Needed a new thrill."
"So she volunteers as a slave?"
"Maybe she's one of those elves with masochistic tendencies."
In other words, some perverted elf got bored with her routine and decided to play slave for fun. Does that even make sense? It was so absurd it didn't feel real. I stared at the cooling black tea in my cup, then looked up as a sudden thought hit me.
"But it doesn't matter, right? I put a slave seal on her. She can't rebel no matter what."
"You're lucky you're not a merchant. With brains like that, you'd be bankrupt in a year."
"What the hell does that mean? Explain properly."
"Fine. Who do you think engraved that slave seal?"
"Black mages from the Magic Realm...?"
Wait a second. Even mad black mages can't reach archmage level, right?
"You think seals from black mages—who barely live a century—can't be broken by an elf who's been wielding magic for two hundred and fifty years?"
"Then why the slave seal...?"
"I told you. She's toying with you."
A chill ran down my spine. That elf who trembles whenever I get close... she's actually the one playing me? No way. That's impossible. This merchant's just messing with me. Convinced of that, I drained the rest of my tea.
*
As I entered the mansion, the elf—dressed in what was little more than a burlap sack—knelt waiting for me.
"W-Welcome home, M-Master..."
Her usual behavior. That halting speech still grated on my nerves. But I didn't scold her. Maybe because of the merchant's hysterics, but today... I felt like I had to be cautious.
"Eat first."
"Y-Yes..."
The elf bowed politely and rose to prepare the meal. I went to my room, freshened up simply, and headed to the dining hall. The table was laden with a feast of dishes she'd cooked. Meanwhile, her "meal" was set under the table: yesterday's leftovers and scraps mashed together—worse than dog food.
I shot her a glance and sat, picking up my utensils.
"Eat."
As if she'd been waiting, she flattened herself on the floor to devour the slop. Same as always, but today it felt off. I raised a hand to stop her and hauled her up.
"Sit at the table and eat today."
"Y-Yes...? N-No... A filthy piece of trash like me doesn't deserve to eat with Master... Please, let me clean up yesterday's scraps at your feet..."
"It's fine. I won't punish you."
"B-But..."
She let out a strange moan and sat at the table. Then she poked at her food listlessly. Not happy about it? I watched her briefly, then finished my meal nonchalantly.
"Wine."
I called for wine as dessert. She stood mid-bite, fetched it, but tripped midway—her feet tangling.
"Ah...!"
With a short cry, crash! My precious wine bottle shattered, staining the floor red.
"M-Master, I've committed a mortal sin...!"
Her face drained pale as she prostrated herself. Her familiar trembling back.
"Any punishment... I'll gladly accept! F-Forgive me...!"
Rage boiled up, but I decided to let it slide this once. With a heavy sigh, I waved her off.
"Forget it. I'll clean it up. Go to your room."
"P-Pardon...? Master...?"
"I said it's fine."
"But I need to be punished...!"
"Enough."
I cut her off, and her expression turned icy in an instant. Not pale—cold. A subtle difference, but I caught it.
"Master's being... unusually kind today..."
She spat the words bitterly and headed to her room. Seizing the moment, I activated the surveillance object I'd installed in her room—just in case.
Creeeak—
The door opened. She entered and perched on the bed, staring blankly ahead with a contemptuous smirk.
"Can't even play his role right. Cocky little shit. Should I just kill him?"
Her voice dripped with icy sarcasm, sending shivers down my spine. No way. Was the merchant telling the pure truth? This elf came to me to enjoy the abuse? The reality was too ridiculous. I clamped my mouth shut, stifling a low groan.
"Guess I need a new master..."
Mana flared sharply in her hand, edged with lethal intent.
Fuck!
Panicking, I bolted up, rummaged a drawer, grabbed the first thing I found, and stormed up the stairs, flinging her door open.
"Eh...?"
Despite trash-talking me seconds ago, she gazed up with innocent, wide eyes.
"M-Master... why... you said you'd let me rest today..."
Her trembling used to seem cute, but now it was just revolting theater. If I let on, she'd kill me. What now? Brain racing, I noticed the dog collar in my hand—from the drawer.
"Changed my mind."
Keeping calm, I tossed the collar at her in my usual mocking tone.
"Naked walk today, you filthy worm."
"N-Naked walk...?"
She feigned shock. No, her lip twitched upward—just barely.
"M-Master, please... anything but that... have mercy..."
Crazy bitch. Suppressing my urge to lash out, I spoke.
"After the walk, we'll have torture time."
To survive, I had to train this lunatic elf... No, pretend to train her.