!
Roger woke from a perfectly comfortable sleep at apparently the break of dawn with a naked Elf kneeling between his knees gnawing on his cockhead! Even before he had his eyes open his hips were heaving up, instinctively feeding his rock hard prick into Flare's greedily nursing maw.
And it wasn't his fault! Not this time!
Flare had woke a few minutes before and, as was her way, jumped right up, exquisitely au natural, into the just breaking dawn. Raising her arms she stretched, luxuriously, arching her svelte, sleek back; deforming her jutting, conical baby feeders into flaming pink tipped ovals; rising upon tip toe, flexing her buttocks into rotund, unyielding buns of steel, and contracting her smooth fleshed thighs into the muscular high definition of a classical statue.
Finished, she looked around. She momentarily considered restarting the smoldering fire to make breakfast when Roger, at her feet, drew her attention by grumbly rolling over upon his back.
Her eyes glanced at his naked trunk, and anger...no, hatred welled up momentarily in her when she saw the absence of breasts, the hair on the chest, the two day growth of beard...
Then her eyes were seized by the glowing, swollen, near erect 16 inch cock draped over his hip and, instantly, the anger, the hatred was gone! Eyes wide, locked on his meat tube, gently pulsating in time with his heart beat, she subconsciously licked her ruby lips.
She stood there a long moment, the barely begun dawn in a holding pattern, as her panting started up. Then her flaming pink, puffy cone shaped nipples hardened, her thighs quivered, her meaty, smooth buttocks clenched. Finally, with a hungry, feral moan, she helplessly settled on her knees between his spread legs.
Her almond shaped eyes, wide and wet like an anime character's, shone with the reflected divine energy radiating from his meat. He could never see it, but she, and her sisters, couldn't mistake it, nor resist it.
It was the mark of the Divine.
Tenderly picking up his tube steak, she started stroking the massive shaft, which began inflating immediately into awe inspiring magnitude! Then long, coiled worms of precum began drooling out the inch long slit. Kissing tenderly the slobbering tip, she watched it swell and dribble in her jacking hands. After a moment of further gentle pumping, she suddenly and impulsively dilated her mouth as far as her jaw would allow and, plunging her head down, engulfed the entire cockhead in one gulp.
She started up an eager nursing on Roger's cockhead, bringing both he and his meat to full wakefulness!
"Uh! What?!" Roger gasped out, eyes suddenly wide open. He helplessly gawked between his wide spread legs at the Elf hungrily suckling on him. Intense, almost painful pleasure surged through him as his cock jerked and swelled under her literal gnawing upon his glans. Heaving his hips up, he could only cry out in shock, and very pleasurable surprise, "Oh, damn! What made you do...OOH!"
She popped her head off his cockhead with a loud, sucking report, then took a moment to jack him further while she swallowed a mouthful of saliva dissolved precum. She took special care to spread her sweet saliva coating his glans all down the jumping shaft of his monstrously wide meat. When she had him good and wet, she milked his softball sized nuts with one talon armed hand while furiously jacking, in foot long strokes, his towering Godpole. Soon she had long, disgusting waves of ropy and lumpy man-goo greasily sliding down the shaft to mix with her saliva.
He could only ogle at her cock work, watching her little hand manhandle his whisky bottle wide shaft, wincing when her other hand sank her claws into a ball too vigorously. He was panting like a race horse, helplessly ensnared and controlled in her little cock and ball shepherding hands.
Then she stopped jerking him, instead holding his sky scraping prick straight up, as if admiring her scuzzy handiwork. With a high pitched sigh, she enthused around his gunk dripping prick, "You are magnificent, M'Lord! You're glow is so...so...Lord Loki!"
"Glow?" he gasped, raising his hips, hump fucking her now motionless prick clutching hand. "I...I don't...see..."
"Of course you don't!" she answered him, matter-of-factly. But she starting up her jacking again. His penile precum outpour actually increased in volume and quickly blanketed her prick beating hand. "You're not an Elf! Only Elves and other 'little people' of Lord Loki's creation can see His Divine Radiance! It is a shame, though! I wish you could see it. You are so beautiful!" Her hand continued to beat him...
Forcefully...
Relentlessly...
Pitilessly...
Roger squirmed under her cock-obsessed assault. "Damn, Flare! My balls are burning!" he gasped, now feeling real pain from his scrotum. "Do something about it, damn it!"
She tish-tished him. "My, you are sensitive, aren't you, M'Lord! A little foreplay and you're whining to be relieved like a new colt! Don't be concerned, Sire, for you will not suffer this morning! I fully intend on having breakfast, at your expense and with your permission, M'Lord! But I must prepare your...porridge, first! It must be properly churned..." And she went silent as her ball groping hand went to work, milking and mashing his bigger than softball sized nuts.
The burn shot up into his body, behind the root of his terminally swollen cock. It was his 'Elf breakfast', heading for his feeding tube.
Roger yelled mindlessly, unable to thrash from Flare' nut grip on him, only able to pound the ground and then tear at the Elf's bedroll in helpless sexual agony. "PLEASE! You cock teasing Bitch! I can't stand it! PLEASE!"
Flare gleamed at him around his throbbing prick. Then she chuckled! "My, but you're making so much noise! Too much noise!" she smirked. "I suppose I'll have to do something about that big mouth of yours before I can enjoy my breakfast!"
Then, without releasing his cum covered prick, she rose into a squat and crab-walked around his cock. Suddenly Roger saw her straddle her right leg across his face, placing them in a '69' position!
He looked up into the squatting Elf and saw...heaven! Naturally bald, Flare's twat was a passion pink slash between her full, sleek thighs. Her labia were glistening with her dew, already extended and flared apart to give him complete access to her pebbly, unhooded clit and flexing vagina. Her buns, meaty and firm, straddled a virginal pink anus buried at the bottom of a lusciously deep asscrack.
He suddenly had the urge to run his tongue up and down that crack, from her clit to her tailbone!
And Flare gave him the opportunity. Squatting, she wrapped her loins right around Roger's smiling face!
And Roger went to town, right then and there. Never wanting to be known as a man who ever questioned a woman's, or Elf's face sitting urges, he went to tonguing her charms with all the skill he had acquired since all those coeds in high school...er, college!
Since he couldn't see anything, what with her full buns covering his eyes, he stuck his tongue out to reconnoiter and immediately found her labia. Slapping them back and forth, he tested their firmness and tasted her delicious juice, then made damn sure those pussy lips would stay out of his way. By the time his tongue finished with her labia they were almost twice as elongated as when he began. He left them drawn and quartered like well parted, welcoming tent flaps.
Then he sent his tongue exploring where only his cock had went before. Her puss hole was flexing with excitement, and gave him no difficulty when he rammed his lingus to the hilt into her.
Flare's squealing response, followed by the doubling of her jack off rate only urged him on. As he explored the walls of her fuck tube, stroking her quivering Elf-girl flesh, making her buttmeat jump and squirm over his forehead and eyes.
In response she sent her over foot long tongue against his ground resting, exposed and helpless baby makers. She lashed them and wholeheartedly soaked them down as her man-pudding drenched hand went 'snick, snick, snick' jacking over the massively wide crown of his cockhead.
Once he had her squirming all over his face, drenching it with her juices, he sent his mouth down about an inch and found her brave, unhooded clit. Wrapping his lips around her button, he started nursing on her like she had been on him!
And Flare got the message! With another, much louder squeal, then a pitiful moan of feminine surrender, her buttocks flexed and shifted wildly all over Roger's forehead.
Then Roger again felt inconceivably moist heat engulf his glans. Then wicked, demanding vacuum drawing his meat in! His legs locked as Flare started up her suckling, nursing, gnawing on his ingested cockhead.
But he didn't mind!
He reached down and began twisting her rock hard nipples, and she replied with stuffed mouth, nasal whining. She was cumming! The combined clit suck and nipple clamping had sent her over the edge in an instant!
Damn but Roger felt proud over that! What a stud he was!
But, even though she was shuddering and squealing in orgasm, it didn't mean Flare was not interested in breakfast! As Roger basked in his male triumph, she reached down with both claw armed hands and seized his two spit soaked, cum crammed nuts.
As Roger suddenly froze in fear of his virility, she sank her nails in!
Before Roger could react he felt his cock, his entire cock, all of nearly seventeen inches of whisky bottle thick meat slab, encased in the same red hot wetness that his cockhead had been enduring!
She was swallowing him! All of him! Resolutely, the steamy mouth of the God-trained Elf gobbled him up. She didn't stop until her little nose was buried between his huge balls.
To add insult to injury, as Roger whimpered while her supernaturally distended throat spastically swallowed upon him, Flare began bobbing her cock filled head, slurping up and down on him!
Awe inspiring realization seized him. She was deep throating him! All of him! Like a perfect porno star she performed a perfect blow job, plunging down until her maximally dilated lips touched his hairy loins, then withdrawing upwards, sucking all the way, until her teeth caught onto the back of his cockcrown. Then all the way back down again.
Roger spread his legs further, tilting his hips up to give her all the pole she wanted to swallow. There was only one thing he was interested in doing at that moment, and sucking on her clit wasn't it! Selfish of not, he was going to let that little cocksucker have her breakfast, thank you!
And he did. Within a dozen mad, noisy, sloppy, snorting, sucking, gagging, slurping 16 inch long head plunges, Flare got what she was sucking for! Roger, face buried in delicious twat and forehead encasing buns, could only hear Flare take his load. But she certainly provided him with a thorough verbal description of his 'breakfast'.
Snorting as his first spew shot out her nostrils in a twin set of inch wide ropes of cum that wound up connecting her nose to his nuts, she gagged real nastily as the rest of his first shot found, and temporarily plugged, her throat. She barely had time to swallow that plug when the second boiled under pressure right out of her mouth, between her tightly stretched lips and his pulsing, tumid, completely swallowed cock shaft.
On and on it went, Roger in no mental condition to count the eruptions of his manchowder and Flare too busy not drowning to count. But the spurts were well into double digits before they died out. At least half of the pressurized gushes made it out of the Elf's head, either through her nose or mouth...though some could have exited her ears...
But she did manage to completely swallow half the spurts and, once Roger slowed down, her foot long tongue would quickly recapture those worms of wadd that initially escaped her maw.
Roger, a quite stupid, an all too satisfied masculine smile hidden under his cum lapping Elf's ass, just lay there, letting Flare clean up her breakfast mess.
Roger had to admit that he wasn't in any shape to jump right up once Flare lifted her tush off his face. He did notice that the dawn was no more advanced once his eyes were freed of Elf tail than it had been during the last view he had with Flare's ass dropping over his eyes!
As he lay where he had been sucked off, Flare got up and, still wonderfully bare assed, started the fire and stuck the slab of mutton over it to heat. Then, with him lazily watching her ass flex tightly with her every step, she finally strode over to her, visibly more than ready, mount.
He had to expect service from her in the mornings, Roger thought, seeing how long and rigid that horsecock was. This time she wasted no time with preliminaries. Like with Roger she went right to it, kneeling under the cooperative horse, mouthing its cockhead, and jacking furiously on its long, thick shaft till she had curtains of yellowish jizz dripping and hanging down her chin and chest.
As her well serviced mount went back to grazing, she remained on her knees, cleaning herself...with her tongue.
When she returned the dawn, seemingly all at once, had advanced enough to read by, and Roger was sat up, looking appreciatively at the mutton. Still divinely bare, she skillfully cut a piece off without burning herself and, placing it on a oval loaf of travel bread, handed it to Roger.
"You're not eating?" he asked, tearing into his breakfast sandwich.
"Already have!" she replied with a smile, then an involuntary burp. "Excuse me!"
"High protein breakfast!" Roger said, with a hubristic smile. "This mutton is great! And so are you!"
She gleamed at him, kneeling next to him. "You were delicious, M'Lord! You taste just like Lord Loki did!" She glanced guiltily at her peacefully munching horse. "To tell the truth, you're distinctly better tasting than my steed! And you give me much more than him! But don't tell him that!"
"Well, I'll be more than happy to feed you whenever you want! But, do you have to start before I'm awake?!"
She lowered her head in contrition. "Sorry, M'Lord! I...was so...hungry! I...I can't help it that I love...cum for breakfast!"
Roger smiled. "Are you the only Elf..."
Her head popped back up. "Now don't start! I don't pry into my sister's eating habits, and neither should you!" she replied, soberly. Just as suddenly, though, she grinned, embarrassed at her reaction to his question, "Oh, by Lord Loki! Of course we all suck breakfast out of our mounts! We have to! Lord Loki demands it! Anyway cum, anyone's, taste's much better than travel bread!"
"You taste pretty good yourself!" Roger complimented her, again with an evil smile. "How was I?"
"You looking for compliments?" Flare replied, pouring him an ale.
"No. I just thought...since you're all...you know, lesbian...I just wondered how my pussy licking technique stacked up..."
"To 'real' pussy licking lesbians?" she cut in. She thoughtfully paused a moment before answering. "You were...different!"
Roger winced. If she only know how many times a woman tried to let him down easy with that line...
Flare saw the unconscious projection of his disappointment on his face. She quickly added, "No, I mean that! Elves use more of a long, steady tongue stroking to get your...partner off. Sometimes we take all night before we let her cum! Boy, does it work! I've...seen females, including humans, cum themselves into a coma after an all night lapping!
"But you, and I suppose all your fellow males in general, take a more...direct approach. You were in a hurry this morning, probably because I gave you blue balls..."
"That's for sure!" Roger came back. "My nuts never hurt that bad back home! How do you know about blue balls?"
"Lord Loki. He said that he got blue balls if he couldn't get off every half hour! Anyway, I really got off on your sucking my...clit! You did it so hard! Just like the 'Clit Master's' of the House of Fimbulthul! It can be a nice change of pace to be forced to cum quick and hard! Lord Loki almost never licked our pussies..."
"Probably didn't have to." Roger replied.
Flare nodded, somewhat humiliated. "When you can't resist his advances, he doesn't have to be a gentleman."
Roger frowned, "House of what?"
"Fimbulthul! A school of martial arts and entertainment located on the river of the same name. One of the more ancient schools..."
"Martial arts and entertainment? Both?"
"They primarily produce...I guess you would call 'sex wrestlers'"
Roger's eyes lit up! "You must tell me more!"
"Don't get your hopes up! It is a form of...entertainment that Elves and other females, Mages, Women and the like, engage in when they visit the towns in Alfheim. You would be found out immediately if you ever visited a gymnasium!"
Roger, not convinced, and definitely and defiantly still interested in 'sex wrestling' and 'gymnasium', reluctantly nodded. "Not to change the subject, but what is in store for today?"
"Travel. But I also have to get your disguise set up! Today we are likely to meet other on the road. It must not get out that you are here! And I have to give you some pointers on sword play, just for you own self defense if we run into any monsters."
"Do you think I could ever defend myself from one of your sisters..."
"No!" she barked. "No offense, but you wouldn't stand a chance. In the past we defeated, butchered, experts in the sword: Vikings, Crusaders, Teutonic Knights, even Musketeers. Then we raped their women and made them our slaves. I'm not bragging. It is just the facts. Lord Loki prepared us well to defend ourselves! Don't even think about it!"
Roger slumped.
"Look, I shouldn't say this, but your only chance, if you are facing only one or two elves, is to whip out that magnificent holy cock of yours and fuck them silly! Not that I'm giving you permission to go looking for my sisters! But, as a last resort, you can always try that! But don't even give them an excuse to draw swords with you! They'd have your head off before you could get your manhood out! You wouldn't stand a chance!"
"Okay! I get the picture!"
"Good! Now, before we start traveling, we have to make you look more female and Arcastrian!"
The castle resembled something from 'Fantasyland' or the deranged imagination of a insane German Baron. Planted in the precipitous crevices between towering peaks of the Eastern edge of the Impassible Mountains, it projected incongruously bright whites and pinks and lavenders against the dull brown/gray, overcast background. Its severely peaked towers, piercing the permanent mists and fogs cast about the mountain tops, were the only structures that ever received sunlight in the lands of the Dark Lords. On the Southern edge of Jotunheim, it was one of the key keeps protecting the Dark Lords' lands from the Northern Marches of the Elves. In the far Southern distance, from under the perpetual overcast, could been seen the bright sunbeams illuminating the emerald green lands and forests of Alfheim.
The tall, blond figure strolled through the endless mists draped over the unadorned flat stone bridge leading up to the castle's only discernible entrance. The main battlements towered overhead, challenging even the abutting miles high mountains in intimidating those rare visitors who would voluntarily journey the three mile long walkway.
As the blond serenely stepped up to the entrance, a set of magic reinforced, iron clad double doors thirty feet high, they parted from merely the wave of her hand. As the doors parted brilliant light streaming from inside illuminated the blond figure.
She was near six foot in height, with long, gently wavy silver-blond hair draped down her back nearly to her bulging buttocks. A white, nearly transparent floor length shift covered her from shoulders to shoes. The top of her gown plunged down her front in an arch that ended just above her nipples, revealing acres of soft, creamy 'D' cup cleavage. Her gown hugged her figure like she had just walked through a shower, revealing a quite unnaturally overdeveloped hourglass: Big, generous pear shaped boobs, made for nursing by anyone; a most incongruous waist, very narrow, with a softly curving belly and a deep navel who's shadow was outlined vividly by her gown; and a wide set of hips, with voluptuous jutting buttocks, displaying a deep, dark crack through her gown while her sex mound, likewise jutted out, though revealing no dark pubic patch.
Over the gown was a Y shaped, golden drapery, the upper arms descending from her shoulders, over her jutting boobs, to meet just above her navel. The descending lower section was split so, as she strode, it would part to reveal her just covered loins and inner thighs.
Understandably, she was intensely beautiful to all creatures who saw her.
As she stepped in through the wide open doors another figure, standing calmly a few feet inside, raised her arms in welcome. This figure was similar, and different. While the first was blond and her rounded ears betrayed her human origins, this woman had rigorously straight, coal black hair, though it, too, descended to her ass. But her ears were hardly human. Not as long as Flare's, they came to a rigid point on top, nevertheless. She was also tall, especially for a cousin of the Elves, almost exactly the height of the blond. Her figure, too, was similar, though different: Elf typical tits, rigorously conical and jutting, though not as big as the blond's, but more than enough for any partner to enjoy; narrow waist, flat, muscular belly; wide hips, but not as much as the blond's, a distinct bubble butt, and long, athletic thighs.
She wore black, but not much of it. Her gown dropped from her shoulders, with a plunging V neckline that stopped just above her navel, then the gown proceeded as a wide loincloth to the floor. It left exposed the outer half of both her thighs, as well as her hips, waist, and ribcage. Over half of her creamy, full buttocks were bared, as well.
"Freya! Darling, it is so good to see you again!" the dark haired woman cried as she stepped forward, arms outstretched.
The blond duplicated the brunette's actions, "Desiree, my Love!"
They embraced and kissed. Hotly. Arms around each back, they ground their unfettered tits together. Then, slowly but relentlessly, their contact lowered down their lush figures until their claw armed hands were sunk deeply into the other's bulging assmeat and their loins were hotly humping the other's.
After a good time embraced, they separated as if nothing had happened.
"My Dear, I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you!" Desiree said, turning to lead Freya through the Grand Hall. As they began the doors, unbidden, silently closed behind them.
The hall, like the castle, was irrationally dimensioned, its ceiling at least eighty feet above the floor, its side walls a hundred feet to each side of the walking females. The exit they were walking to was at least as far.
Side by side they walked, silent, false smiles on their faces. About halfway across, Desiree nonchalantly reached out and sensually gripped Freya's right asscheek.
Not missing a stride, Freya looked with an even broader smile at the groper. Looking down, she saw the mass that, with Desiree's every stride, pushed out from between her legs the front of her loin cloth-like gown. "Nothing changes with you, Desiree! I am long past craving what you stole from Loki. And you know why I'm here!"
Just as nonchalantly Desiree gave Freya's ass one more squeeze, then dropped her arm to her side. "Of course! I meant no offense, Dear Freya! You must admit that you are still most attractive and I...am what I am!"
"I know what you are! And I know you are involved in a project of the greatest importance. But you must accept that I am on a mission for the Dark Lord Chaos."
"Yes, of course! I think, however, you will find my progress has been very positive. If the Dark Lord Chaos allows me to continue, I shall meet all of his goals without fail!"
"I hope so, for you're own good! Needless to say, we do not usually utilize lesser beings in the development stages of our invasion plans!" Freya smiled even more sweetly at Desiree. Especially after the familiarity of groping the divine ass, she had to remind Desiree that her status as mere Mage had not changed. She simply did not rate intimacy with beings like Lord Chaos or Freya, a Giant or a Goddess!
They exited the Grand Hall and entered a long, more modest hallway. Large, ornately decorated and quite luxurious rooms opened, alternately, on each side as they journeyed. Inside many of the rooms were individual females.
Most of them were human, though a sizable minority were Elf. All were naked or almost so. All wore collars chained to large, luxuriously upholstered beds.
They all looked wide eyed as the two women passed. Their faces projected one thing...
Hunger!
And not for food!
The hallway was long, the rooms numbered easily into the hundreds. After some time silently walking Freya suddenly stopped, as if on a whim, and peered into a room. Inside was a young human girl, in her teens, wearing only a plaid skirt that came only halfway down her soccer athlete thighs. Her breasts were firm handfuls, her waist teenaged narrow, her belly smooth and her navel round and depressed.
Initially she eyed the two figures at her door with defiance, even arrogance.
"Would you like to sample her? She is eager, after I..." Desiree said.
The girl seemed to recognize Desiree just then, and her defiant expression melted into eyes of wet blue pools, her lower lip went aquiver, and, as her titty heaving pant started up, her pink puffy nipples hardened dramatically.
"Yes," Freya stepped in, watching the sweet young thing overwhelmed by her...craving. "I know. After you are done with a female, they are always eager for..."
"Orgasm, at least!" Desiree finished as they started walking again.
"Well, Desiree, don't keep me waiting. Have you been successful or not?"
"It would not be boastful to say that my process has been developed sufficiently to guarantee complete success, provided enough...raw material is provided!"
"Orcs should be no problem." Freya replied as they finally reached the end of the hallway. A few more steps and they were on a balcony on the back of the castle. It was over two hundred feet to the ground below. "There are always...enough...orcs..." Freya finished, staring over the edge of the balcony.
As soon as Desiree appeared on it, a roar of titanic proportions rose from the ground far below. A small protected valley had been created in the crevasse between the two mountains that abutted the castle. The valley was filled with milling, roaring creatures that resembled gorillas in their fur lined, bipedal bodies and long, almost knuckle dragging arms. Their faces were muzzled like an ape, only the muzzle looked about twice as long.
"My creation, Freya!" she proudly proclaimed, pointing to the massed beasts. "Our Lord Chaos will not have to rely on bungling, slow Orcs!"
Freya's eyes opened wide at the sight! These were impressive beasts! They must be nearly seven feet tall, with twice the mass of a human! "What are they?"
"A little trick done by a new magic that I brought back from Earth. They call it Genetic Engineering. I just took some trait determining material, humans call DNA, from some hand picked specimens of animals back on Earth. One reason I have been visiting Universities: Female 'scientists' are as weak and susceptible to Loki's influence as any other human cunt. With the help of some women researchers, which are in my entertainment rooms if you care to sample them, I was able to collect the proper genes for these animals. I even had to get some genes from the more...primitive human ancestors. That woman, what was her name, Lara Croft, was very helpful in that, what with her access to their tombs and such. It was a shame that Lord Tyr 'ruined' her two seasons ago..."
Freya, still staring rapt at the small army below her, nodded, "Yes, he should show more restraint."
"But once I had the proper genetic material, it was ridiculously easy to bypass the human's reliance on machinery by using magic, of which I am forever indebted to Dark Lord Forseti's Archmage, Constance, for discovering the spells I used to assemble the DNA material. Then some standard reproduction spells and there you are!"
"How many will Lord Chaos have?"
"At least one hundred and fifty, which will be more than enough!"
Suddenly Freya stooped, looking closer at the beasts below. "What is this?!" she cried, pointed down, "Between their legs!" She turned to Desiree. "They are male!" she howled. "How could you make such a mistake! The Elves will go berserk the first time they see those dangling man-organs! That is why Orcs have been so ineffective!"
"Calm yourself, my Dear Freya!" the still smiling Desiree replied. "I have a solution to that, too! Come with me!"
Still furious, Freya composed herself enough to follow Desiree to another door, at the other end of the balcony. Opening it, she motioned for Freya to look through.
Freya's anger vanished instantly. Inside the room was another of the creatures. He stood calmly and quietly, looking like the others, except for his man-organ.
It was fully, monstrously erect, with a brace of low hanging balls the size of softballs beneath it.
And the cock was glowing!
Stunned, Freya staggered back a couple of steps. She couldn't speak until Desiree closed the door.
"That was..."
Desiree smugly smiled. "Yes, I know!"
She looked at Desiree, already panting. "How?"
"My new technique! Why I have been collecting Elves and Humans! Using their orgasmic energy, which I collect when I fuck them to orgasm, I can boost the power of my specially developed cock spells until I can..."
"It cannot be His!"
"No, unfortunately it is a temporary mimic. But I have tested it thoroughly and it is indistinguishable from the original, at least during the spell-time. And since only I have Lord Loki's Gift, only I can collect and manipulate the energy that creates the spell!"
Freya now looked at her with eager excitement, convinced of Desiree's accomplishments. "What do you need to finish with the other beasts?"
"Simple, women! Virgins give the most energy, but any female, Elf of Human, will do. That is why I need Lord Chaos' approval of my routine journeying to Earth. I have an organization back there that is recruiting new...'energy sources' shall we say, and is ongoing. I must return every two days to collect more females."
Freya frowned. "That is well and good, but Lord Chaos is concerned about your many trips across the barrier. He fears it will draw attention to your activities. We are not strong enough yet..."
Suddenly Desiree exploded, "I cannot accomplish what I must if Lord Chaos doesn't have the courage to act! There are schemes, individuals who are working to overthrow me, as well as the Dark Lords, and he knows nothing of it! He does not have the luxury of being timid! I, we, must take action now!"
"What do you mean, schemes?"
"There is a mage, who escaped to Earth some decades ago, who has very dangerous information. And is starting to put it to use!"
"Who, what?"
"I do not have her present name, but I have narrowed down her location. I should have her soon, and I shall make good use of her!"
"I do not think Lord Chaos will be too concerned about a mage..."
Desiree smiled. "He may not, but for you, Freya, let me just say that this mage-bitch knows where your Brisingamen can be found!"
Freya gawked at the smirking brunette. "You are lying, Desiree!"
"Judge for yourself! I know the mage has the Amulet of Frigg! The Amulet that will unlock the way to the Brisingamen! Who else but you knows that Frigg was the original thief who took your precious be-spelled golden necklace when her husband, Odin, left after Loki's dismemberment! Tell me, have you ever told anyone else about Frigg's theft of your Brisingamen?"
Freya's eyes were wide with astonishment, and excitement! The one thing she coveted the most in the five thousand years she lived and ruled here and on Earth! She couldn't hide her lusty, selfish excitement at it possibly being returned to her! "No! No one in the two thousand years since it was taken from me!"
"Do you believe me, now?"
Freya thought, then nodded. Her golden necklace, her Brisingamen, filled with an unknown spell, the most precious thing in her or anyone else's life, found! She had let four horribly ugly, and, admittedly, monstrously endowed dwarfs fuck her into a coma over four nights to get it. Could she do less to get it back?
She rose up straight, setting her shoulders back and thrusting her divine melons out at Desiree, who leered openly. "Very well! What do you want?"
"Only that you use your influence with the Great Dark Lord Chaos to free me to journey to Earth as often as I need to until I can collect enough energy to finish his great project!" she pointed at the milling beasts below, who immediately responded with a roar.
"Very well, I think I can do that!"
"Excellent!" Desiree responded.
Freya suddenly looked down, her expression turning back to...fear.
Desiree's loin cloth-like robe was rising! Something behind it, something...huge, was tenting it up!
Then the loin cloth slipped aside and Freya's face reflected divine radiance. She could only gawk, eyes glistening, mouth open, barely covered jugs heaving.
"Oh!" Desiree added, gloating at the expression of awe on the glowing face of the Norse Goddess of Fuck. "There is one other...favor I require from you, Freya!"
She stepped up to the mesmerized Goddess and pulled her gown down off her shoulders. It obediently fell to the floor, pudding at Freya's feet. Desiree took a long moment to feast her eyes on the physical perfection of the Goddess.
Freya's big, pink, perfectly round nipples were furiously erect. Her labia hung down, floppy and dripping with juice. Her panting echoed off the castle walls.
Desiree spoke, "You were justifiable famous for your...oral talents with Lord Loki, if I recall! I was just wondering if you are still as...capable..." And Desiree's hand slapped down upon the blond's head.
Freya quickly looked up into the grinning Desiree's face, then, just as quickly, looked back down at the source of the glow illuminating her own face. Then her knees bent.
Desiree, beaming, closed her eyes as Freya went down. "If you perform well now, I will reward you tonight...in my personal quarters!"
As Freya sank, the roar of Desiree's beasts below shook the castle to its foundation.
It had been a long day of labored travel. Of course, the long travel day was Roger's fault.
First, there was the time taken that morning to disguise him as an Arcastrian trader. Roger rode with Flare all that day wearing something that resembled a monk's robes, only without sash or belt. It was basically a sack-like pull over, but one made out of a material that was both light and cool, and that covered him completely, even extending to his shoes. It had a hood, with a long crest that extended almost a foot past his forehead and drooped so, to see his face, someone would have to poke their own face into the hood. It was late Fall prairie grass brown and had sleeves about four inches too long.
Flare had just pulled his disguise out of her saddlebags! Then she tied some pillow-like sacks onto Roger's chest for his 'tits', Flare said all Arcastrians were both tall and stacked, and he was set to pass for one.
He had to admit that she was resourceful! Or, at least, her saddlebags were! He wondered what else she had squirreled away in them!
His beard would have to wait until they got to Elfthring and Flare could get another type of 'fairy dust'. Because of his beard, he spent the entire day buried under the hood.
Which wasn't that bad for it wasn't hot at all and it performed a similar function on the sun as a 'cowboy' hat.
But, then there was the swordplay. Before they could get traveling, Flare insisted on starting his sword training. They had only one sword, Flare's, so, again, he would have to wait until Elfthring before she could get one for him.
She was loath to let him even touch her 'Elvengare', but they had no choice, if he was to get some training in before Elfthring.
Roger had the wisdom not to comment on the fact that the Elf had named her sword, but refused to name the horse she suckled every day! But it did remind him that she was much more the warrior than slut!
On his initial inspection her sword appeared to be a magnificent example of iron age manufacture. Then he recognized that the sword was made out of a form of steel, rather than pure iron. Roger, however, had never come across an alloy of iron quite like it. Iron hard, of course, but with a flexibility quite unlike common Earth steel. Wickedly sharp, its edge could slice through the most delicate cloth, yet was easily hard enough to shear solid iron bars without blemish.
As Roger held it for the first time in his hands it felt remarkably light, way too light for his expectations. His arms moved it around him like a Hollywood swashbuckler, making jet like whooshes all around his head. Soon Roger was starting to feel like Tyrone Power.
Then Flare brought him down to Earth...er Alfheim! She took a stick, no longer than her sword, and, in very short order, wrecked Roger's fantasies of Errol Flynn and Douglas Fairbanks, even if her were armed with her sword.
Her damn Elf reflexes! No matter his swooshing and jabbing, his chopping or charging, he couldn't lay a bit of metal on her, or even her stick! He wasn't even able to scar the wood! It wasn't that he lacked the strength, or even a modicum of skill. One solid blow would have splintered Flare's wooden sword.
But she just wouldn't let him make contact!
Her reflexes were dazzling! Not only was he completely unable to come close to her but, within five minutes of starting up, he had welts on his face, ass, chest, thighs, from that damn stick playfully, painfully whacking him at each of his manfully straightforward, powerful lunges at her!
Talk about pussy whipped!
He was sullen and quiet during the morning travel, his brittle male ego, as well as his body, bruised. He swore that Flare did more than a little gloating over his sullenness!
That afternoon, after a light lunch, they took some time, at Flare's insistence, to spar again. And again she punished him. He wasn't as aggressive as in the morning, and she still easily avoided him.
But he thought he did a little better, defensively, than that morning, not being struck as much. But only a little.
As they rode that afternoon, she, at least, tried to get him talking about swordplay. "I hope you realize that you simply couldn't defend yourself in a sword match against any Elf in this land! You must accept this! No male is a match for an Elf! I know about men, their egos and such, but it is no shame for you to accept this! Lord Loki, in His Wisdom, gave us these reflexes to permit us to fight off the lust driven attacks by men! It is the way it should be!"
"Grumble!" was all that came back from a perpetually scowling Roger. He was glad the hood he had on prevented Flare from seeing his face!
"It is unusual that we haven't run into any Guide Elves today! I have been summoned to Elfthring to receive orders from my immediate superior, Lady Gem of Fiorm. I have heard that Queen Layla is calling up the Guild of Elves for a possible assault on Jotunheim. Something the Dark Lords are conjuring up concerns her. So we should see some more travelers today on the road to Elfthring."
Roger was finally, thought temporarily, distracted from his poor performance with Flare and her sword. "Are the Dark Lords going to invade? Is that common?"
"Common? No. But every couple centuries they have to do something, it seems. Ever since they drove Lord Loki away, they have been trying to seize our land."
She looked at him over her shoulder. In a totally serious voice she exclaimed, "They want to fuck us, you know!"
I don't blame them! he thought to himself.
They made camp near another running stream, on the edge of a forest, composed of Ash this time, that was somewhat larger than the previous campsite's. At this site there was no boulder to provide a backdrop for after dark activities.
Firstly, Roger somberly carried Flare's saddlebags to a log located and sized to make it a convenient backstop. Flare led her mount to the stream for grazing. When she joined Roger, since the sun was still high, Flare insisted that they first practice Roger's swordplay.
This time, after taking off his monk's costume, Roger impressed himself and, he hoped, also impressed Flare with his emphasis on defensive skills, at least. During their match she managed only a fraction of the strikes she had given him that morning. Furthermore he had forced her to work for those strikes to a degree she had never been forced to earlier.
For the first time that day he felt pride in himself.
"That was not bad, M'Lord!" Flare admitted, throwing her stick away to proclaim the end of practice. She brushed a lock of silver-blond hair off her face. She was breathing pretty hard.
She was pleased. He had managed, this time, to give her a decent workout!
"Your defense has improved greatly. But your offense has suffered. You need to improve both if you want to survive alone here!"
Bitch! he silently responded, putting her sword back in its scabbard. He laid it down on the ubiquitous log near the spot he planned for the campfire.
"If you would start the fire, I will...service my mount..." she said with a small smile, then spinning on her heel away from him. She was already walking away before he could reply.
All he saw was her lush, tights encased tail briskly snapping side to side as if her buttocks were ball bearings rotating with her each stride as she made for her horse, some thirty feet away. He could clearly see, even from a distance, that the horse was ready for her. Already over a meter long, thick as one of his legs, and drooling profusely.
Turning towards the wood, Roger realized that she had ignored the animal's 'needs' all that day, sparing with him instead. The poor animal, used to regular service from his mistress, probably could use a blow job!
I could use a blow job! he thought as he went to get firewood.
He was bringing in his second load, a log to keep the fire going through the night, when he heard the bright crack of wood splintering underfoot, followed by a snort.
A very unhorse-like snort!
He carefully put the log down, then looked for Flare. She was squatting beneath her steed, eagerly suckling on his jumping prick. The horse was humping in pre-orgasm, driving, fucking his meat into the eagerly nursing Elf's cock stuffed head.
Mouth wide open, hardly capable of engulfing just the horse's cockhead, Flare's head rhythmically jerked back with each butting of horse glans against the back of her gagging throat.
Then Roger heard a second snort! It didn't come from the direction of the nearly sucked off horse, but from his left...
The forest!
Something was in the forest!
He saw Flare's sword, not four feet from him, but thirty feet from her!
Then the horse called out in orgasmic triumph, momentarily drawing Roger's attention. It was quickly obvious to him that Flare was preoccupied then with endeavoring not to drown! Even from where Roger stood he could see it was a massive load her steed was delivering. Way more than Flare could swallow at one time!
Waves of gunk poured down her chin and chest, soaking her tunic. She even had to give up her mouthful of horse cockhead, the spewing was so copious. Pulling the glans out of her mouth actually only made matters worse, because the horse was in no position to control himself.
He spewed, quick and violently, all over the panting, swallowing, whimpering Elf's face, filling her eye sockets, plugging her nose, filling her open mouth again and again.
Another crackling step in the forest!
Jerking his head to the left, Roger saw...it!
Not very tall, about halfway between Flare and him in height. Bipedal, long arms, hairy, thin, sinewy-strong body. Nearly bald head, short muzzled face. Not an ounce of fat on that body but, likewise, it acted as if it didn't have an ounce of adroitness, either. Except for an inadequate loin cloth, naked.
He was making for the choking, cum drenched Elf carefully, but deliberately, with no subtleness of approach. Then Roger saw what he had in mind for the Elf! He had a cock! A furiously, iron bar hard erection jutting out of his loin cloth! As cocks around here went, it was...adequate, about a foot in length.
But Roger wasn't interested with sharing Flare with anyone other than her horse! With the beast's attentions on the cum gobbling Elf, Roger made for her sword as quietly as he could. The invader was so fixed on the Elf that it didn't even hear Roger draw the weapon.
No sooner was the sword out, though, then the beast roared and charged Flare! Flare, blinded by cum, showered with endless blasts of horse testicle-pudding, could only squeal at the roar and slip on the cum slick grass to fall most unwarrior-like on her full ass!
The beast raised what appeared to be some crude weapon in its right arm: a wooden handled slab of metal with a worked edge on one side with the other blunt corner ending in a rather ugly, blood stained hook.
All Flare could do was squeal and squirm while her horse pissed pints of cum into her face!
Holding her sword like a baseball bat over his right shoulder, Roger rushed towards the attacker as quickly as he could without tripping. To his surprise, after being humiliated by Flare throughout the day, he moved much more quickly and smoothly than he expected.
He moved quickly enough to even attract the attention of the beast just before it could cleave off Flare's horse's head! Seeing Roger rushing in at the edge of its vision, it turned towards the sudden threat with a most unpleasant snarl.
But Roger was seriously into his swashbuckler mental mode, reliving all those "D & D" and Errol Flynn movies he had watched since his youth. From those films, his only experience with sword combat, he simply didn't realize that he wasn't supposed to be able to do what he was planning!
The beast, his snarling done, quickly realized that Roger wasn't either intimidated nor stopping! With another roar he slashed his weapon in a great arc across the front of his body, intending to block Roger's first strike.
Which was exactly what Roger was thinking. When he saw the beast's arm move, he moved, swinging his sword with both arms, edge on, like he was 'going for the fences' in softball.
The two weapons met exactly between the two warriors, edge upon edge. The metallic report was momentarily deafening.
Roger only heard the contact of their weapons. He didn't feel a thing! His, Flare's, sword sheered through the other blade literally like a knife through butter! The detached half of the beast's weapon went spinning overhead.
As soon as he finished his swing, instinctively, Roger twisted his wrists, rotating his sword 180 degrees, and slashed back on the same line.
As powerfully as he could.
Unfortunately, the now disarmed beast's neck was in the way.
Roger had never sliced off anyone's, or anything's head before. It was remarkably easy, he thought as she saw the head spun a count over the trunk. Then it rolled out of sight.
Blood sprayed out the open neck of the beast's trunk, three great spurts of bluish blood, then the torso collapsed upon its back.
Mouth grimly set closed, Roger breathed through his flared nostrils, deeply but slowly, and stood wide and white eyed for a long minute. He still held Flare's sword at the ready.
Flare finally walked up to him, wiping stringy, coagulated horse gunk out of her eyes. "M'Lord, are you well?" she asked, much less haughtily.
He just nodded. Then, realizing he still held the bloodied sword over her shoulder at the ready, relaxed abruptly. Eventually handing her sword to her, he asked, "What was that?"
"An Orc," she replied, leading him back to the camp, cleaning her sword. After she sheathed it, she turned to him. "Orcs are not easy to bring down! Especially when they are ready for you! You showed impressive strength, shearing right through his blade!"
There was a moment of silence, then she added, with her infuriating smile of superiority, "Of course, they do not have the reflexes of an Elf!"
That infuriating smile snapped something in Roger.
That did it! Roger saw red! "I'll show you reflexes!" he roared, seizing her horse cum soaked tunic. With a yank he pulled it open, listening to Flare squeal again, then he effortlessly pulled it over her head.
Those luscious pink tipped boobs of hers leaped out at him, bouncing like just too firm jello.
Then he wrapped both his hands around her tiny waist and lifted her right off her feet!
"No!" she half squealed and half screamed. "What do you think you are going to do!"
She feared she knew full well what he was going to do to her!
He flung her across his left shoulder, on her flat belly. Her maddeningly delightful bubble butt was right alongside his left cheek. With a loud, sharp slap across her meaty buttocks, he started for the stream.
She kicked and screamed furiously as they entered the forest. That is, she howled indignantly while pounding on his back and kicking frantically until he yanked her tights down to her flailing knees. When he ass-smacked her again, nice and loud now on her bare butt, she went silent. There was a reddened hand imprint on her tail as he heard running water.
"I want your horse off of you!" he bellowed as they approached the stream. At the edge he looked carefully for a short minute to find a part of the stream deep and slow enough for his purposes.
Then, without ceremony, he threw her in!
Screeching angrily, she made a huge splash. Huge, that is, for an Elf.
Thrashing, sputtering, howling, she popped up rapidly, surfacing with water pouring down the cleavage of both her stiffly swaying tits and firm, meaty asscheeks. Water dripped, too, from her rock hard nipples. Even her clit, jutting out quite visibly between her parted labia and beneath her bald mound, had water dripping from it.
At least Roger thought it was water.
Eyes on fire, the delicious, dangerous, dementedly enraged Elf stood upright in the steam, her tights around her ankles, her arms stiff at her sides, hands balled into fists of fury alongside her ample hips. "OOOO!" was all she could cry, at first! But then, "If only I had my sword!"
"Well, you don't!" Roger replied, equally worked up. "But I have one of my own!" And, stepping into the stream, he reached out to again seize Flare by her diminutive waist. Hauling her out of the water, he held her in his arms, like a child.
"And I'm going to use it, right now!" he roared into her face as he stepped back to camp.
Her arms were free, and, at first, she used them. She got back at him with two vicious slaps across his face, very effective ones, too.
When he didn't respond to her vicious strikes, however, she abruptly ceased all really effective assaults on him. She just continued kicking her legs, pushing irritatingly but ineffectively on his chin and shoulder, and making a great deal of noise.
But she was no longer seriously trying to either stop him or escape whatever he had in store for her.
When they got back to camp he lowered her, not very gently, onto her stomach across the log he planned on using for a backrest. Her face wound up only inches from the ground while her bubble butt stuck nearly straight up.
Planting his left hand on the back of her neck to keep her in position, he opened his pants...
Flare started screaming bloody murder again when she saw his hand at his waist, "Don't you dare! I...I...don't want you...to...don't do this...to me! I'll kill you...I swear to Loki! Oh, you are so dead!"
Roger, like Flare's horse, had gone all day without...'relief'. His prick leaped out of his opened pants, massively erect and spewing precum all down Flare's back and into her hair. Stroking his pole a couple of times sent a torrent of man-goo drooling right down her asscrack.
Roger smirked when Flair interrupted her howling to hiss as his cum burned the smooth flesh between her upturned, jutting buttocks.
Then the two of them simultaneously moaned when he planted his boiling hot cockhead between her, admittedly, soaked and parted pussy lips.
"Feel good, baby?" Roger gloated.
"No! Damn you, don't do...moan!...please...don't...ooh!...moan ...stop, please!"
No way, he thought, running his drooling glans up and down the soaked crack between her thighs. From her tailbone to her stiff, unhooded clit, he ran his precum covered cockhead, lubricating her with his man-stuff, bulling apart her willingly parting labia with his glans. Soon she was drenched in a mixture of his precum and her pussy juice.
Her buttocks and thighs quivered as she suddenly let him prepare her, dropping all her physical resistance. She wasn't howling, anymore, either.
"Enough foreplay!" he moaned, the intense moist heat of her firm, slick buns and yielding, floppy labia driving him over the wall. Without further ado he slid his massive cock between her well parted pussy lips. He closed his eyes in bliss as her pussy wrapped hungrily around his glans, and Flare moaned loud and long as his cockhead tip fitted perfectly into her puss hole.
Pressing down, Flare's pussy popped open around his cockhead with a syrupy detonation.
Flare gasped, nearly as loudly, and she reached back to grip his bare hip, sinking her claws in painfully. But she wasn't trying to hold him back.
He gripped the top of her hips himself, and began pushing.
As soon as his cock began disappearing into Elf belly, Flare's head dropped to the dusty ground. "Oh, M'Lord! You feel...so good!" she whimpered.
Then Roger saw the tight, pink, clenched hole buried deep between Flare's asscheeks! There was a place he hadn't used, yet! With a sucking pop he pulled out of the Elf.
Then pressed his dripping cockhead right against Flare's anus!
"EEE!" she squealed, twisting on her grounded forehead. "No! M'Lord, not that! Not there! Anywhere but there!"
He pressed resolutely, watching her sphincter helplessly dilate under his relentless potency. "Loki ever use this path, Baby?" he breathed as his crown slid past her defeated sphincter.
"EEE! No! Not to me! Oh, it hurts! Please! I'll do anything! PLEASE! Aaah!" she cried out as he popped into her butt.
Roger moaned now, as her incredible body heat seized his anally swallowed glans. Never had he felt such a snug, fevered embrace upon his cock! It was the most heavenly sensation he could imagine! And it was actually drawing on him, sucking him into her virginal guts!
Still moaning, Roger drove into the Elf's bowels, ignoring her howling, her pleading, her claws piercing the skin of his hip. He was sloppy with precum, her ass cleavage and anal pore soaked with her own fluids, and the friction between cock flesh and Elf mucous membrane was wet, hot, delicious!
He couldn't help it! Her sucking back door had him! Helplessly he sunk into her bowels, sliding on the wet silk of her willingly spreading ass tube.
Flare howled and squealed the whole plunge, twisting her head, spreading muddy dust over her forehead and both cheeks.
But Roger couldn't stop. Gawking wide eyed, teeth clenched, he watched as his immense prick disappeared between her widely spread cheeks. He just couldn't stop.
When he was finally swallowed, his hips pressing wonderfully against her upturned, plump and firm asscheeks, he reached under her and filled his hands with her more than a handful tits. Her pebbly nipples dug into his palms.
Everything was silent for a long moment. Flare shuddered under him, breathing deeply. Then Roger's buried meat jerked far, far up her cock stuffed belly.
Roger felt the Elf jerk vividly with his cock flex. Then, to his utter shock, she raised her wonderful butt up under him, actually lifting them up off the log! Seemingly effortlessly, she held them both up over the log.
Sliding a hand down from her boobs, running it over her usually flat, smooth belly, he felt a long bulge running down from just below her navel to just above her jutting, bald sex mound.
When he flexed his buried meat again, the bulge swelled momentarily, too.
It was his anally swallowed cock, pushing her guts aside to make room for it!
How does this Elf take so much meat without bursting!?
"Oh, M'Lord! It hurts..." Flare mumbled in a passion stupefied whisper.
Roger went back to her tits, then leaned over to press his face on her shoulder, next to her muddy right cheek and ear. Tenderly, considering he had over sixteen inches of arm thick meat buried in her formerly virgin bowels, he kissed her neck. "You are one wonderful Baby!"
Her hand released his hip, then reached underneath them, in the gap between her belly and the log, to pull open his pants completely.
His stuffed, softball sized testicles fell out, swinging forward to smack painfully against the log.
She picked them up and pressed them against her red hot, soaked twat.
Roger moaned into her ear as his balls were bathed with her sizzling pussy juice. He felt her guts compress around his buried meat. Her bowels started massaging his prick! Like a thousand fingers rippling up and down, she began working on his swollen organ. Her bowels began sucking, too, on his entire organ. The suction was incredible, endlessly, relentlessly drawing him into her guts! Suddenly he couldn't move, couldn't pull out!
The Elf's full buns started pushing back on him, rotating around his trapped meat while squeezing relentlessly. "M'Lord," Flare hoarsely whispered, as if she couldn't fill her lungs entirely, "you hurt...mmmm!"
Roger was no longer in control! Arched over the ass fucked Elf, he could not pull back, even if he wanted. He could only sweat and gnaw on his lower lip while her fantastic viscera sucked on him, demanding his orgasmic submission!
And she would get it, he realized as the burn of his load traveled through him from his firmly grasped balls and boiled into his Elf ass buried cock. As she twisted around him, as her guts sucked and jacked on him, he knew he couldn't resist for long.
"M'Lord! You hurt...mmmm! Use me! Give it to me! Cum for me!" she breathed into the ground before him, casting little, sexy puffs of dust as she worked him with her upturned tail.
His balls dripped now with her pussy juice, his cock swollen a good inch wider than when he had violated her. Her buttocks were now squeezing the base of his cock, adding to the fantastic thrills of Elf riding!
Her mantra was established. "M'Lord! You hurt...You will cum!...You hurt..."
Then Roger lost it! With an almost painful cry, he felt his prick began jumping wildly in Flare's guts, actually making the Elf's hips move up and down, side to side with his randomized penile pulses.
Flare squealed loudly with his first palpitation, and continued to shriek with each subsequent jerk. Her voice cooed as Roger was sent over the edge of bliss. "OOOO!...M'Lord!...Squeal!...You...OOOO!... hurt...Squeal!...OOO!...Yes!...Squeal!"
Then the little bitch sank her talons into his pussy juice drenched nuts, and, with a sudden predatory growl, Roger, lost to his sexual beast, bit down on Flare's shoulder as his anally engulfed cock jumped wildly. With his first massive spew into her bowels, the sheer volume of manchowder he unloaded into her hungry belly easily sent the Elf into her first anal orgasm!
"Squeal!...Master!...Yes!...You hurt...Squeal!...You hurt...me...Oh, Lord Loki! you hurt...me...so good!...Squeal!...Squeal!...Squeal!...I love you, Master!" Then her cum flooded bowels began growling.
Long and loud.
Roger could hardly register what the Elf was saying, or doing. Lost in his primitive primate, fucking...using his mate to satisfy his needs, he could no longer control himself as her growling, vigorously active guts sucked him off with relentless hunger! He could only, wanted to only, ride her magnificent ass, gripping her tits like handfuls of dough, whining and crying through teeth sunk into her shoulder as he spewed buckets into her.
There was one thing on his mind, however.
He never wanted it to end!
But, of course, all good things come to an end. Especially when you're unloading into Elf tail. Some time later, a long time later actually, as male orgasm goes, Roger came to his senses. He found himself draped atop a moaning, shuddering, gut growling Elf, his now quiescent prick still deeply buried in her clasping anus.
Letting go of Flare's boobs, he planted his hands on the ground and pushed himself up off Flare with his hands and feet. Even so, he had to pull his hips back further before his still huge cock managed to slip back out of Flare's clasping butt.
The Elf gasped raggedly when his glans popped, with a vivid slurp, out through her gripping sphincter.
Roger sat down next to Flare, his back to the log upon which she was still bent over. Breathing heavily, he looked carefully at the Elf. She was still shuddering and quivering, her ass offered up, her bowels continuing to growl loudly.
His eyes widened when he saw the whiskey bottle wide oval depression between her asscheeks right over her freshly fucked asshole.
He had did that!
He wondered whether it was permanent?
Like a tattoo or something!
Her arm was still under her heaving, flat belly. He could see her fingers, which had so effectively milked his balls not moments before, strumming between where her labia joined, working her stiff little clit.
Extending the series of orgasms he had just given her.
Suddenly she moaned instead of whimpered. It meant she was rejoining reality!
He wondered whether she would thank him or accuse him for butt fucking her?! He looked, with some relief, at her sword, leaning on the log some four feet on the other side of him from the now stirring Elf.
Flare's dirty face was now raised and looking at him. Still breathing deeply, she showed no emotion as she just stared at him.
"How are you, Baby?" he tried, carefully not grinning at her.
Flare blinked, then pushed herself up and back until she had dismounted the log. She squatted alongside him, saying nothing.
"Are you okay?" he asked again.
She said nothing, just stared at him. At least he could tell that she was no longer furious at him.
To hell with this, he thought. With a little smile, he asked, "Do you want to spar with me? You can have your sword, I'll use mine!"
Flare glanced down at his still huge, nearly erect cock draped over his hip, then spontaneously smiled. Leaning back, she dropped down, sitting upon her full buns.
Roger noticed her wince.
"Your sword will serve you well, I think!" she said, after the wince. "There is nothing more I can show you when it comes to defending yourself from individual Elves!" she added, rubbing her flanks. "And you have shown me that you can also deal with individual Orcs, at least!"
Then she moved forward to cuddle up to him.
To his immense relief!
"I should also learn to give thanks when they are due!" she added, looking up at him with big, almond shaped eyes. "I owe you thanks for saving me from the Orc, Sire!"
She pulled his head down into a passionate kiss.
"I am also guilty! I kinda lost it back there," he said immediately after they broke the kiss. He watched his left hand heft her perfect right suck cone, enjoying its firmness and warmth. "I won't do that...force you...again..."
She interrupted, "You didn't 'force' me! I can defend myself, even from you! But there is something about you...I...I like being held by you! I like being...at your service, especially if your 'sword' is involved! You know I cannot resist you, once you release your 'weapon'! Furthermore, I loved it when you were so far inside me!" she added. "I never knew it could be so pleasurable, servicing Lord Loki...back there! The pain became...so wonderfully pleasant! I started cumming almost from the moment you penetrated me and I remember only wonderful bliss until just a few moments ago! I wish he had demanded my submission to him, in that manner, when he ruled here!"
"Well, my only excuse was that you kept..."
She put a finger to his lips to stop him. "M'Lord, you have apologized enough! I, also, wronged you, humiliated you, and I admit my insult! Let us both learn from this experience!" Then she winced again when she shuffled her lush ass on the dusty ground. "I certainly will not forget my lesson of today!"
He bent and kissed her again, passionately. At once he felt her hand drop to his prick, starting up a slow, steady jackoff. As he felt his cock respond, beginning to erect again, he dropped his hand from her boob to her soaked, bald beaver. Her twat was making many syrupy sounds of love around his playful fingers before they broke the kiss.
"M'Lord," she gasped after the kiss. She released his substantially larger cock and pushed, gently, his hand from her loins. "Let us start the fire and make camp, while there still is light! Then we can eat supper and bathe before it gets too dark!"
He nodded cooperatively. "Fine! What do you want me to do?"
Her eyes glistened. "Nothing right now! I'll take care of dinner! But, after dark, you are more than welcome to...fuck my ass again?"
Roger could only gawk at her.
!