Poll Driven Story: “Lyari Fenyarus’ Tale”

The newest installment of this story can be found below (and I’m pretty proud of it, even though its a bit darker than my stuff normally is). If you want to see the story in its entirety to can go HERE.

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Lyari sits in the tavern, moodily drinking a mug of ale. There isn’t a single soul in the whole place to her liking, not a single man or woman that makes her lady parts dance with excitement. “Wasted a whole evening,” she mutters into her mug.

Moodily she gets up, leaving a few coins on the table as a tip for the busy innkeeper. Idly she glances at the man, wondering if he’d do. Surely she couldn’t abduct and keep him, but in a pinch he might help her recharge her internal batteries. He is rather attractive for an older Night Elf and unlike High Elves as a Silver Elf she harbors no racial ill will towards his kind.

She shrugs, keeping the idea in the back of her mind as she moves through the tavern towards the stairs that lead up to her rented room. On her way she passes the Halfling, Hob, who seems to wince at the sight of her and skitters away in fear.

This brings a smile to her face. “Fear me, little man,” she whispers, “for how little you know what evil sleeps in your home this night.”

Lyari then laughs loudly, drawing a few odd looks as she finishes moving through the tavern. ‘Evil’, what a silly worthless word, she thinks to herself. The majority of the world views her god, Eczotl, and its followers as “evil”. How little they know, how little they understand. Yet it was what the world thinks, so she keeps her pledge to the god that always hungers hidden from most, a necessary lie if she wants to travel the world freely and conduct her business without opposition at every turn.

All the way up the stairs and down the hall to her room she is deep in thought. “What to do, what to do,” she mutters. She HAS to find a steady supply of sexual energies, without that her current task will be impossible to finish.

As she enters her room her mind turns to her trunk and what is contained in it. Not the void to her god’s realm but rather her gear. There, inside the trunk are many tomes of ancient knowledge that few in Alaria could still read. Many of the books she has barely looked through. Perhaps there she could find an ancient and forgotten spell to solve her problem.

“Yes,” she says, nodding to her trunk, “as always my books will be my best friends.” She unlocks her trunk and pulls out a stack of the books, placing them on a nearby table and lighting a few more candles to give her better light. Outside the sun has already set and darkness is all around, the perfect time for such studies as these.

For hours she sits, late into the night, reading through her books. A few times she stops and mutters an incantation, using some of her remaining precious magical energy to test out a spell or two. But none of the spells she dabbles in seems to be what she needs.

But then she finds something. The book she reads is the most ancient she owns, old enough that if not for its magical properties it would have long ago turned to dust. She’s not even sure how old the book really is, older than the great collapse that left so much of Alaria moldering ruins and caused so many once great civilizations to simply disappear. The book was even older than most recorded history.

It is in this book that she finds a spell that might solve her problem. The spell is complex and hard to make out in its ancient language but after some study she is sure she can cast it, although doing so will almost certainly drain what magical energy she has left inside.

“But that matters not,” she mumbles to herself. “For if this works I’ll have a fount of nearly endless sexual energy!”

The spell details a way to summon an ancient “daemon” of pure sexual lust and bind it to the summoner. She can tell that the spell shall summon a specific daemon, a lesser “divine” being that is created to service some of less pure gods. Why this book would contain such a spell is beyond her, as these lesser beings seem of little worth to summon.

Except, she realizes, specifically in her case. A daemon of pure lust is just what she needs, some goatee half-man whose blood runs pure with sexual desire and perversion. If she had control of such a creature she could fuck and drain it of its energy at will, never worrying about its energies running low!

The summoning spell is complex but far from beyond her. She has to procure some chalk from her trunk and draw arcane symbols on the floor of her room, arranging the lit candles along with the circular lines on the ground. After preparing things she then strips, the ritual requiring her to be naked. For a moment she revels in being unclothed then turns back to her task.

There is then a great deal of muttered enchantments that bring about a great deal of swirling, sparking red magical energy all around her. She chants, staring at the energy as it starts to gather in the center of the room, starting to take the form a massive, hulking figure. Slowly the daemon takes shape before her, taller than her by at least a few feet and its male form rippling with massive muscles, it’s arms so thick they looked like the trunks of trees. And there, between its legs, hangs an impressively massive cock, a sight that makes her giggle with excitement.

Yet as the beast starts to slowly take physical form, the red energy slowly becoming solid and the dark red skin of the massive horned figure solidifying before her, she begins to feel that something is wrong. A daemon is a lesser being, yet as the creature grows more solid she can feel almost overwhelming raw power emanating from it. And she should feel her will entering the things mind, allowing her to dominate it. Yet the more real it becomes the more she feels her own mind bending to this ancient thing’s will.

Far too late she realizes what a mistake she has made. Far too late to stop the massively powerful being from materializing in her room and far too late to run. With a final burst of sparking red energy the being fully materializes, its overpowering aura overwhelming her and sending her reeling back, stumbling onto the floor as she gasps in horror.

The monstrous red skinned hulking figure looms above her, looking down at the naked Silver Elf with anger and derision on its bestial face. “YOU DARE?” he booms, his voice making the very floorboards under her shake. “You dare to summon and try and enslave me, Baedor? Bringer of The Corruption? God of sexual indulgence?”

“N-no,” Lyari stutters, fear oozing from every syllable. “No! I meant to summon an ancient daemon, not a god!” She quavers and shakes, sweat pouring out of every inch of her body. She knows who Baedor is, knows he is a god to be feared. Even if she hadn’t known who he was she would have felt the power emanating off of his body and been just as afraid. “My book spoke of a daemon, a lesser being—” she begins to explain.

Baedor shoots her an angry, mesmerizing glare that silences the scared woman mid sentence. “Me? A mere daemon?”

Lyari glances from the god standing before her to the ancient tome on the nearby table. He follows her gaze and then his angry visage cracks, the anger washing away and replaced by an amused grin. He starts to laugh, a deep booming laugh that echoes all around her.

He takes a few steps, his huge feet booming down and buckling the wooden floor under his massive weight. Picking the book up and flipped through its pages then laughing again. “I see what has happened,” he says, still chuckling.

The sounds of his amusement sends chills of fear down Lyari’s spine.

Holding the book up Baedor turns to her and begins to explain. “This book is old, very old. So old in fact that it predates the acceptance of those like me, gods touched by The Corruption, as true gods. You poor, stupid meddling mage. In the ages since this tome was penned the meaning of the word ‘daemon’ has changed! Now the word means a lesser being, a servant to one such as me. But when this book was written it referred to the gods touched by The Corruption. At that time we were shunned and even imprisoned by the other gods. But now, now we are their equals.”

He puts the book down and then aims his fiery glare at her. It hits her with physical force, sending her reeling back and making the world around her spin. She loses all semblance of composure and begins to scream in terror, yelling for help.

Again Baedor begins laughing, deep and hearty. “No one can hear your pathetic, mewling cries for help. I’ve surrounded this room with my power and not a single sound can escape. Besides,” he adds with an almost disinterested shrug, “there are none who could save you. None powerful enough to challenge me less they be another god.”

Lyari’s eyes widened as she remembers the mighty god she serves. “Eczotl,” she whispers. Then she says the name again, calling out for the god that hungers to save her.

Once more the mighty being before her laughs. “Ah yes, Eczotl. More ancient then me but far less powerful in this realm. See, we gods, we draw our strength through the worship of mortals. It is our sustenance. And poor Eczotl, it has few worshipers in Alaria. While I have many and the number grows every day! No, your god won’t be saving you. It abandoned you to me the moment you started summoning me.”

She begins to whimper. If she had any of her magical stores left she’d try and protect herself, push the god back and attempt an escape. But summing the being has totally drained her and for the first time in her entire life she feels totally helpless.

“Now,” Baedor says, as if brushing aside the previous conversation, “you must be punished for the insolence of summoning and trying to enslave me.” He takes a step towards her, his foot slamming into the ground, and points his powerful gaze at her. “STAND,” he bellows.

For a moment she is able to fight the command, although doing so pains every inch of her body.

He takes another step closer. “Stand,” he repeats, his voice lower but his tone more commanding. “Stand you pathetic, fat-uddered cow.”

Lyari feels the words echo through her mind and then feels her body responding. With a jerk she begins to get up, her body no longer under her own control. With spasmatic, wild movements she rises to her feet, her back ridged and straight, pressing her huge breasts out before her. She finds herself unable to move, only able to stand perfectly still and stare up at the looming god before her.

“I will give you this,” he mutters as he begins to move closer to her, “you have a marvelous body.” Moving with the grace of a cat, something that is startling from such a hulking figure, he slides behind her, wrapping his massive arms around her naked body. Everywhere his skin touched hers there is fire, heat the emanates from his skin and burns her, but in a way that sends waves and confusing sexual pleasure flowing into her core.

He slides his hands up the soft curves of her slightly pudgy belly, moving up towards her massive, heavy breasts. Carefully, as if wanting to enjoy every moment of it, he cups them. Slowly he lifts them up, testing their weight in his large hands.

Lyari shudders and moans at his touch. Everywhere his fingers touch her skin there is burning pleasure. And as a Silver Elf her inhumanly large breasts have always been overly sensitive, yet now the pleasure just form his simple touch is nearly enough to make her cum.

He starts to gently, but firmly, grope her breasts. Squeezing and massaging, his thick fingers sinking into her soft and firm tit-flesh. He slides his fingers to her hard nipples, rolling them between his finger tips and then pinching them.

She gasps then moans in pleasure, feeling a warm wet orgasm slowly ease out of her loins just from the gentle yet insistent tit-play.

As he continues to play with her tits the god leans down, pushing her head to the side then opening his mouth and breathing heavily onto her exposed neck. His breath is hot, like the furnace of a fire and the warmth makes the Silver Elf melt inside. She can feel her juices running down her thighs, feel this being’s touch overwhelming her senses.

“Such glorious tits,” he whispers in her ear as he continues to fondle her breasts, pinching and tugging gently at her nipples. “You Silver Elves are always such a treat. But normally I need to sexually corrupt your kind, yet I see that your mind is already full of sexually perverse and even cruel desires and thoughts. Yet you are always the one in control, how humbling it must be for you to be controlled and used in this way.”

Lyari is unable to respond, only moan in pleasure. But it is a moan that makes it clear that the pleasure is not coming on her terms, that if she could she would pull away from this beings intense touch.

Her hands move down to her crotch and she begins to finger herself as she moans in delight. She has never felt such pleasure, so intense and powerful. Yet she is unable to drain any of the sexual energy flowing from the being touching and groping and kissing her. If anything, she realizes, SHE is being drained of her own natural energies!

Then she cums again, only this time harder. She convulses, the orgasm so powerful it feels as though it is shattering her mind. Her legs give out from under her and she begins to fall. Baedor lets her, letting go of her breasts and taking a step back as she tumbles down.

She collapses to the floor, landing weakly on all fours, her thick plump ass pointing up at Baedor.

He stares at the sight and makes an appreciative sound. “You are no mighty wild mage, no powerful sorceress,” he tells her as he steps forwards and grabs her hips, pulling her body back towards his. She whimpers, looking over her shoulder and seeing his massive cock now fully erect and knows he is preparing to enter her. Her heart races with fear, fear that his member is far too large for her body yet she knows there is nothing she can do to stop him.

“You are a nearly worthless cow,” he continues, “a piece of desirable fuck meat and nothing more.” As he speaks he grabs his cock and starts rubbing it on her wet pussy, moving his huge swollen cockhead up and down in her wet lips. Then he starts to press into her and she screams.

He takes her hard and quick, more forcefully than any man has ever dared try. She bellows in pain at first as his massive member is forced into her far too small cunt hole. But impossibly she feels her body painfully stretching to accommodate his huge girth and impressive length. And then, as he pounds her hard and fast, the pain begins to lesson and her screams of discomfort become screams of pleasure as the god begins to fuck-tame her.

Her massive tits swing wildly under her as she is pounded form behind, her hard nipples rubbing up against the wooden floor and becoming red and raw. She screams, begging for it to end and then a moment later is begging for more. She cums, hard and often. The savage fucking seems to last forever, minutes feel as though they stretch on for hours. Soon she can barely feel her body she’s cum so much. Her knees and arms give out under her and she collapses flat onto the floor. Still Baedor fucks her, pounding her hard from behind as he pulls her ass up towards himself so that he can still enter her.

At one point she starts to black out and it is only then that Baedor pulls away from her. The feel of his massive cock leaving her pussy is like the creation of vast chasm inside of her. She moans at the emptiness, thankful her ordeal is over yet wishing to be filled once more.

She lay on the floor, breathing heavily with her eyes closed and hovering just on the edge of consciousness. She feels drained, drained physically and spiritually. She starts to sob, never having felt so helpless and defeated. Lyari knows she has done this very thing to countless others but she never imagined the tables would be turned to completely on her.

“Up on your knees, you worthless slut,” Baedor commands.

Even though she is totally exhausted her body finds the energy to follow the command. Slowly, weakly she gets up on her knees, turning to face the god who stands looming above her, his massive red cock still standing erect and glistening with her pussy juices.

“Grab those fat udders of yours. Hold them up to me and press them in around my cock. I wish to cum while fucking your overlarge Silver Elf tits,” he tells her.

She does as he commands, staring down and marveling at just how big his cock is. Even with her massive tits wrapped around it a third of its length extends out the top. How in the world did that ever fit inside of me? she thinks in alarm.

Once more she experiences the pleasure that comes with having any part of the god of sexual indulgence touch her flesh. As he humps her chest she feels as much sexual pleasure as when he was fucking her cunt. She cums, over and over again. It is only because of his command that she remains upright on her knees and doesn’t simply collapse and pass out.

“This is how women’s bodies are meant to be used,” Baedor says between grunts. “Great mighty tits like yours were created to be fucked, created to be the pleasure pits for men’s cocks. You understand?”

Lyari’s head lolls from side to side and her eyes roll up into her head. She is beyond understanding. It is all too much pleasure and she is far too drained. She is on the verge of breaking, physically and mentally.

Seeing this Baedor is pleased and begins to cum, even as he keeps fucking her tits. His cum bubbles and spurts out from the top of his cock, thick and gooey like a great muddy yogurt. It keeps flowing like a volcano, covering her huge tits in semen till not an inch of her massive tits remain uncovered.

Finally done unloading his godly ejaculate he sighs in satisfaction and takes a step back, looking at the woman who dared to summon him. She kneels on the floor, her massive tits covered and dripping thick semen. Her mouth hangs open stupidly, her eyes glazed over as she stares blankly ahead of her. Her body sways back and forth looking as if a slight breeze could knock her over.

Lyari is defeated, humiliated, and broken.


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