Another entry is ready in this poll driven story! Find it below the break or you can find the story in it’s entirety HERE.
If you are enjoying the poll driven stories I’m doing right now think about becoming a Patreon backer. I’m bounding between writing entries to these stories and doing stand alone shorts centered on the Crossroads Inn. The stories are slowly being posted as exclusives to my Patreon backers (although eventually down the road they will be collected together in an Ebook).
* * *
“Come, come,” Maaleas whispers urgently. Inetme’thul follows behind him, a blanket thrown over her naked body. Maaleas is dressed in his night robe, although he didn’t have the front closed. Once he had made up his mind what to do with the High Elf he now controlled he had acted fast.
“It’s still late,” he whispers, “and hopefully no one will hear or see us, not even Hob.” Carefully he leads the woman through the halls of the upper floor of the inn then silently down the stairs. On the ground floor they quickly move through the empty tavern, heading towards the doors in the back of the room beside the counter he spends most of his day manning.
He leads her not into his private room, as the mentally controlled woman’s muddled mind had expected, but instead into the inn’s larder. After ushering her into the room and silently closing the door behind him he moves quickly to a back wall, a small segment free of the food filled shelves that cover much of the rest of the room. There is a large barrel sitting on the floor which he moves out of the way, leaving the segment of wall exposed.
Maaleas then runs his hands on the wooden paneling, finding a knot and pressing into it. There is a click and then the segment of wall swings open, a hidden door that leads down into a dark basement lit only by a few flickering candles.
“In, quickly,” he commands her.
Inetme’thul moves down the creaking wooden stairs that lead into the hidden basement, her eyes adjusting to the relative dark she feels is swallowing her up. The room has a very ominous feel to it, a feel that only grows as a strange and sudden change in air pressure hits her as she steps lower down the stairs. A moment later there is a strange change in the ambient sounds around her, an almost deafening silence filled only by the soft foot falls of her bare feet landing on the wooden steps.
She turns back to Maaleas and asks him a question but he doesn’t answer, simply shaking his head and pointing to his ears. She watches as he then stops to close the secret door behind him. Only after he has taken a few steps down the stairs, past the point where Inetme’thul had felt the change in air pressure, does he answer.
“There’s an enchantment on this room,” he tells her, no longer whispering. “It’s totally sound proof. No sound leaves it and no sound gets in.” He smiles then, a wicked grin that she takes as an ominous threat.
Confused by this she simply shrugs and walks down the rest of the stairs, trying to take in the large room. There are many chairs and piles of soft pillows and blankets and even a couple of beds. And spread through it all are chests and racks and cabinets filled with potions and faintly glowing magical items. Some of them seem rather mundane, armor and weapons piled haphazardly. These are in locked cabinets or sit pilled in open chests, those locked away obviously magically protected.
There are other items on display, though, that are more… alarming. Many of them sexual in nature and a few could only be described as “instruments of torture”. Idly she wonders what this room’s purpose is. Clearly it partially serves as her beloved new Master’s treasure horde, the place where he stores all the magical items he has bought and sold to adventurers like herself.
Thinking this she looks down at the jewels hanging from her nipples and frowns. She still doesn’t know what they REALLY do but she suspects now that they do more than he has told her. It is clear that this Maaleas is not really a man to be trusted.
She shakes her head, mortified that such thoughts had been able to enter her mind. Her master is a good man! He had to be for her to feel such fierce loyalty to him after such a short time.
Yet… Yet that wasn’t right either. He had used something to make her this way, hadn’t he?
She feels so confused. So she turns to him for direction and asks what she should be doing.
“Well,” he says, his voice suddenly eager, “ the first thing you need to do is get rid of that blanket. I want to see your naked body. That’s how you shall remain form this point on, naked unless I tell you otherwise. Don’t worry, you’ll find this room quite warm.”
Happily she lets the blanket drop from her shoulders, standing proudly and displaying her naked body for her master. She lights up with happiness when she sees the joy this sight brings to his face.
He licks his lips hungrily and starts moving towards her. “I’ve so much planned for you,” he says menacingly. “But first, come this way, I need to get you set up in your new home.”
Maaleas leads her to the center of the room. There two metal poles stick out of the ground, heavy chains and manacles secured to their ends and piled on the floor. Looking at them she notices another pair of chains further back secured directly to ground. Between it all is a pile of pillows and blankets placed over a thick mattress and slightly ahead of them, between the two pillars, is a raised platform. Just big enough to sit on or bend over, padded for comfort.
“Come,” Maaleas says, waving towards the pile of bedding. “We must have you chained.”
“But why, Master?” she asks as she obediently moves to the pile and holds her hands out, ready to be manacled and chained.
Maaleas quickly begins placing the manacles attached by chains to the pillars to her wrists, procuring a ring of keys from his pocket and using one of them to lock them in place. He then kneels down and secures and locks the manacles chained to the floor around her ankles.
“Why?” he asks, as he gets to his feet. “Well, for a few reasons. One of them being that I’ve decided not to waste any more of the magic contained in the cock ring of control on you. See, it’s a mighty powerful item but it only has so many uses in it before it becomes useless metal. And the thing is I’ve no idea how many uses it has left. Could be just one, could be two hundred. No way to find out till using it doesn’t work.
“This way,” he continues, “in a week’s time after the magic has worn out you’ll still be my prisoner. Oh, I suppose you’ll be less likely to follow orders, but I plan on breaking your will to resist me long before that becomes a worry.
“And even if you manage to hold onto your mind long enough to become a threat I won’t need to worry about your magics, either. See these lovely jewels on your nipples?” he asks, flicking one of the dangling jewels and sending it swaying back and forth. “I didn’t lie about what they do, but I did leave a few things off. They will ensure that you grow hornier and hornier with every hour until you feel a strong need for sexual release. Yet they will ensure that you cannot attain that release without a cock in that now needy, tight Elven pussy of yours.”
Inetme’thul’s eyes grew large in realization, the last half a day of her life making a lot more sense. She knows she should be filled with righteous anger at this man for tricking her so but she doesn’t fell that. All she feels is a strange kind of love for him and a desire to make him happy. And if tricking and using her in this manner has made him happy than she is happy to be tricked and used so.
As these thoughts run through her head she moves about, discovering that she has more freedom of movement then she had expected to have while chained. It is true she could not move very far from the center of the room, certainly not far enough to reach any of the strange or powerful items stored nearby. But she has enough freedom of movement to remain comfortable.
As if reading her mind Maaleas says, “Yes, see? Not so bad. Enough space to be comfortable and more than enough freedom to be fucked in any manner I please. And trust me, you’ll be being fucked as often as I can find the time to slip away from things up above.
“In fact,” he says, his voice trailing off for a moment as he ponders something. “Yes,” he adds after a moment, clearly having decided something. “Yes, we shall begin tonight. I’ve at least three or four more hours before anyone awakes and needs my attention. And even if I get carried away and am late returning to matters upstairs Hob can handle things for a bit.
“He’s used to my occasional disappearances,” the Night Elf adds. “I don’t know if he actually knows about this room or is just so loyal and simple that he doesn’t question where I disappear to, either way the result is the same.”
“But Master,” Inetme’thul asks, her confusion clear in her voice, “how are you going to fuck me again? You’ve already done so many times already tonight. You must be sore and unable to rise again”
“Where there is a will there is a way,” Maaleas says, moving towards a nearby case full of bubbling potions. Digging around in it he procures one and pops the top, taking a quick swig. He shakes like a dog then stands tall, dropping his robe. He looks perfectly awake, even newly re-energized. What’s more his cock stands tall and erect. “A drink from a simple re-invigoration potion and I’m good to go,” he says with a wink to the High Elf. “And I’ve got enough stored down here to keep me going for days straight if that’s what I wanted.”
He then turns back to the case and starts reading the labels on the bottles and vials contained within. “We’ll need to get you prepared, though,” he adds, taking some out and placing them on a nearby open counter top. “See,” he says, continuing to select even more potions, “I’ve decided to embrace the racial animosity I’m supposed to feel for you. Something about you is just bringing out, well, the worse in me. And like I just said, I’m choosing to embrace that.”
“You’re going to drink all of these,” he says, placing all the selected potions on a metal tray then carrying it over to Inetme’thul. “They will help me drive you mad as I have my fun with you.”
“If that is what you wish, Master,” the High Elf says with a shrug, grabbing the first of the bottles and taking a big swig.
“Yes, it is,” he says with a giggle. “And it’s nice having you so obedient for this part. Now keep drinking up. Most won’t start really affecting you for a few minutes, but when they do its going to hit you hard and fast.”
“Let’s see,” he says, watching her drink. “That one will make your already pleasingly huge breasts swell up more. And THAT one is going to make them engorge with milk, always liked seeing a big pair of tits leaking milk. And the one you’re drinking now will make your breasts even more sensitive than they already are and I’m hoping it’s effects will mix with all the other potions and increase that sensitivity to mind shattering levels.”
Once she is done drinking Maaleas takes the tray and half empty bottles away, meticulously returning each to where they came from.
During that time Inetme’thul begins to feel the effects of the magical concoctions. She feels hot, even feverish and dizzy. She ends up having to sit down on her pile of bedding, taking comfort for the first time in the softness of her new home. She sits up, fanning her breasts for its inside their core that she feels most of the strange heat. There is slight pain too, she can feel her breasts growing sore and sensitive and swears as she looks down she can see them swelling slightly in size.
What’s more, after a time she starts to see other changes. The blue veins that she was always able to just barely see under the pale skin of her large breasts seem to be growing more vibrant, as if they are being pushed closer to the surface as the meat inside her breasts grows more thick and her skin is stretched thinner from the growth.
Then her nipples begin to swell and darken and she feels a strange pressure building up inside of her breasts. Gently she gives one of her breasts a firm squeeze and is startled to see milk start to trickle out of the tip of her nipple. She gasps and realizes this must be the pressure she feels building up inside her breasts.
Moving to wipe the creamy white moisture away she ends up shuddering from the feel of her finger brushing up against her nipple. A startled moan escapes her mouth as she realizes just how sensitive her breasts have become over such a short time.
Seeing this after he puts the last of the potions away Maaleas is pleased. He rubs his hands together and says, “Yes, I think it is time to begin!” He then instructs Inetme’thul to lie down on her bedding and get comfortable.
Once she does so he moves to her, lying down on top of her so that his warm, wiry body is pressed against hers. She can feel his engorged, hard cock pressed against her leg and moans slightly, pressing against it. Now that she can feel it the need to have it inside her has begun to return.
He leans down, gently and lovingly grabbing her large, swollen, milk filled tits. He presses them together, his grip firm as his fingers mash her breast-flesh together.
A whimpered moan escapes her pretty Elven lips once again. “Master,” she gasps, “that feels so good! My breasts have never been this sensitive.”
He smiles up at her, not saying a word. Then he looks down at her breasts, leaning in and pressing them together, using his thumbs to move her swollen and engorged nipples close together. Then he moves closer, opening his mouth and taking them both into his mouth at once. Immediately he starts sucking, making his mouth a tight vacuum and sucking in rhythmic, repetitive motions.
Inetme’thul arches her back and practically howls in pleasure. The wail grows more intense as Maaleas starts sucking her nipples harder and faster, flicking the rough surface of his tongue over her sensitive nubs.
“By all the gods,” she gasps, staring up at the dark wooden ceiling above her. “If not for the enchanted nipple jewels I am certain this would make me cum!”
With a sucking slurp Maaleas pulls away from Inetme’thul’s nipples, an evil grin spread across his face. “Oh yes, my dear. Most certainly. And think back to just a short time ago, how you were in such pain from not getting off that you were willing to be become a Night Elve’s total slave. Now imagine that same level of need and discomfort, only intensified tenfold and stretched over days with no prospect of me EVER giving you the release your body needs.”
“What?” she says, sitting up on her elbows and looking at her Master with wide eyed astonishment. “Why would you ever do such a thing to me? I’m your loyal servant, I’d do anything you want!”
“True,” Maaleas says silkily, “but it won’t always be that way. In about a week you will be back to your normal self. I’m sure then you’ll be filled with anger and wish to use your magic to burn me to cinder. But you won’t be able to do that if you’ve been driven mad by then,” he says, winking at her. “Why, with all I’ve done to these glorious breasts of yours and with the help of those nipple jewels you might be driven mad before sunrise!”
He then bends back down, taking both her nipples into his mouth at once and biting down on them. The sudden, sharp, intense pain shoots through her body. But as it reverberates up through her tender, swollen, sensitive breasts the pain triples in intensity and begins to change, becoming pleasure that starts to force a massive orgasm from her body. Again her back arched and she screams in pained delight then starts to sob in frustration as the orgasm dies before it even truly begins.
Her ordeal had started but it was far from over.
* * *
The five figures trump noisily down the large road, thick woods on either side of them, their way lit only by the bright moon overhead and a couple firebrands that flickered and filled the world around them with dark shadows.
Leading the five figures is a short, wide dwarf, a hulking stump of muscles that was heavily armored and carried a massive doubled headed ax that required two hands to hold. Thralldrag Rockhammer needed no torchlight to take point. As a Dwarf his eyes could, in even the dimmest of lights, see nearly as well as a Human in broad daylight.
“Woods are quiet tonight,” he mutters, not really talking to the companions the followed closely behind him.
“Probably because we’re drawing near to Grayfair,” a tall, slender, well muscled human woman with long wild red hair says. Wilifreida Mair wears a mix of light mail and leather armor, enough to protect her but allow ease of movement. The fighter has one hand on the sword which hangs at her hip, the other holding up one of the flickering firebrands.
“I hear they’ve got a town guard. And with all the adventurers that have to come by this way, passing through the crossroads there, I’m sure the monsters are kept beaten back this close to town,” she adds.
“How close to town do you think we are?” a pretty feminine voice calls out. The speaker is Ehngel Lehning, a plump dark haired cleric. “I mean, I feel better having run into you all on the way to Grayfair but I’ll be thankful for the feeling of true safety being in the town will give.” Nervously she grabs at the emblem of her god that hangs around her neck.
A deep, throaty grunt sounds from behind them. Taking up the rear guard is a tall, muscular Orc named Kel’raz Fistax who carries a huge long sword on his back. “Always so worried,” he grumbles at the Cleric. “Never eager to be in a fight. I for one am ready for a scrap after having spent time with my tribe during our break. I’m hoping that when we get to The Crossroads Inn Inetme’thul is already there and has an adventure lined up for us.”
The final member of the party, a slender Common Elf whose features are hidden under a dark green hooded cloak that makes him blend in with the night shadows, speaks in reply. “Always eager for blood, aren’t you Kel’raz? There are other things in life you know. Beauty to be found in the world around you,” Gulvan Greenleaf says
Kel’raz begins to laugh, the sound echoing out into the forest around them. “Beauty? Aye, I admire beauty, but I find it in the blood of my enemies smeared on my weapons and splattered on my face. I find it in the feeling of rage and hatred that I tap into when I use my abilities as a barbarian to grow stronger.”
“You know what Elani would say if she were here?” Wilifreida asks the group, a slight smile on her face.
Ehngel, the cleric, rolls her eyes. “Oh yes, I think we ALL know that. Something dirty, a disgusting little mumble about matters sexual. Why we all put up with the perverse little rogue I’ll never understand.”
“Because she’s useful,” all four of her companions say in unison then break into laughter.
“It’s the same reason we’d give when asked the same question about any of us,” Wilifreida says. “Even you, Ehngel.”
The priest blushes and glowers at her companions. “How close to this town are we, anyways?” she asks, changing the subject.
“Not far,” grunts Thralldrag the Dwarf. “Figure we’ll be there a few hours after dawn.” He looks behind himself, glaring in annoyance at his companions. “That is if you can all keep up with me.”
Lyrical laughter sounds as Gulvan the Common Elf sprints forward, his movements smooth and silent. “Just try and keep up with me, Dwarf,” he says with a good hearted laugh.
Again the Dwarf grunts. “Flighty Elven fool. I could sprint for days if need be, but these others? Pathetic Human stamina would never keep up.”
And thus things continues all through the night as the party of adventurers march ever closer to Grayfair and The Crossroads Inn.
* * *
Inetme’thul is sitting up, her back perfectly straight and her legs stretched out before her. Maaleas is sitting behind her, his legs wrapped around her waist and his throbbing cock pressed into the base of her back.
He is rubbing a strange oil on her large, overly sensitive breasts. It makes her flesh warm and tingle, the smooth motions of his fingers gliding over her skin sending ripples and waves of pleasure down her back. She feels the pleasure building inside of her, swelling up between her legs as if it is a dam preparing to spill over. Yet she knows the moment of release will not come, not without a cock deep inside of her.
Maaleas continues to massage her overlarge breasts, lifting and groping lightly. As he continues the grasps and gropes became more firm, eventually becoming intense almost painful squeezes of handfuls of thick breast-flesh. Yet the pain quickly melts into something else, becoming intense pleasure that makes Inetme’thul moan and shudder and wish desperately for the release of an orgasm.
He slides his hands down her breasts, his finger tips finding the engorged nubs of her nipples. They are slippery, not just with oil but with the milk that has been squirting and dripping out of the tips of her nipples. He rubs the nubs between his fingers, rolling and pinching them and causing more pleasure to seep deep into her core.
“This is what you exist for now,” Maaleas whispers darkly into her ear. “To feel pleasure. To give me, a cursed Night Elf pleasure. You no longer need to think, only act when you are told. Your breasts shall feel a symphony of pleasures as I have my way with them but you shall never be allowed to feel the relief of orgasm.”
Inetme’thul whimpers as her new reality begins to sink in. Yet she feels no anger, how could she? This is her Master! If this is what he wants from her then she has no right to deny it.
He grabs one of her breasts with both hands and lifts it up, then sliding one hand away grabs a handful of her long hair and forces her face forward and down. “Suck,” he tells her, pushing her milky, oily nipple into her open mouth. “Suck on your own nipple.”
She does as she is told, wrapping her lips tightly around her hard nub and starting to suck. Waves of pleasure wash through her breast, waves of pleasure that work down her spine and add to the maddening building up of pleasure wanting to break free in orgasmic release. Yet there is no release and even as she sucks on her own nipple she continues to whimper, tears of frustration beginning to appear in the corners of her large pretty eyes.
Once she starts to cry Maaleas pulls away from her, crawling around to sit before her. “You can stop,” he tells her. Relieved she opens her mouth and lets her breast fall heavily from her mouth. But as it falls and bounces slightly her sensitive, thick tit-flesh is tugged and pulled sending more pleasure running into her body.
“Lift your tits up and press them together for me,” he commands.
She does so, wondering if he’ll now fuck her breasts. She finds herself excited by the prospect, imaging the feel of his hard member thrusting between her oversensitive breasts to be highly pleasurable. But he makes no movement to stand up.
Instead he slathers more of the oil on one of his hands and the wrist attached to it. He then makes a fist and places it under her breasts. “Now keep them pressed in tightly,” he says, then starts thrusting his arm up through her breasts.
She moans and shudders in pain and pleasure as he fists her tits, his arm sliding smoothly up through her pressed breasts. Looking down she can see that all the pressure is causing milk to spurt and stream from her breasts.
At least, she thinks, there is some relief in that. Every minute that passes she feels her breasts engorging more and more with the milk. Having them drained feels marvelous, the pressure lessoning an ease on her pleasure pressured body. Yet with the easing of the pressure comes more sexual pleasure, only adding to the bubble demanding but unable to burst deep inside of her.
After nearly five minutes of constant tit-fisting Maaleas pulls away, standing up and telling the High Elf to keep her tits pressed together. He pours more of the oil into his hand and strokes it onto his large, throbbing member. He then steps close, grabbing his cock and pressing it up into her cleavage.
Wanting to please her Master, even though the pleasure of the action will add to the maddening inability to cum, she presses her breasts in tight around his cock. Then he starts humping her chest, slamming his cock up into her bust. Every time his body impacts into hers she can feel ripples run through her swollen tits, feel it with acute sensitivity that begins to drive her mad.
Maaleas grabs her throat, squeezing slightly and lifting her head up so that she is looking into his fierce eyes. They frighten her, the crazed hatred there.
“Never unleashed so much hatred on a woman before,” he growls at her. “But this is what all High Elves deserve,” he tells her.
He squeezes his hand tighter around throat, causing Inetme’thul to gasp for air.
“Nobody likes you, you know,” he tells her. “Everyone secretly hates you High Elves. We all, every race in Alaria, harbor a deep hatred of you stuck up pieces of shit. No one really wants your company, they only accept it because you are useful. Your party, they all hate you. I know this without even having to ask them. They only keep you around because your magic is useful to them. But what now? Now that your mind will be so distracted by the need to cum that you will be unable to cast spells?”
He pauses, choking her a little harder and enjoying the sound of her pathetic sobs, enjoying the tears now streaming down her pretty Elven face. “Nobody wants you, not unless it’s like this. No one has ever truly loved you, only ever wanted to use and fuck you, use and fuck you like I’m doing now.” Even as the cruel words pour through his lips he keeps fucking her tits, Inetme’thul loyally holding them around his hard cock.
“No one cares about you,” he says again. “Your so called friends, the plump titted little Halfling and the rest of your party, I bet they won’t even notice you’ve disappeared. No one cares about you, no one but me. And I only care about using and breaking you. You’ll be better off this way, better off with a shattered mind and as little more than a living sex toy.”
He then groans and cums, his thick load shooting up and messily hitting Inetme’thul’s chin. With a deep sigh of male satisfaction he pulls away from her, his cock already drooping and growing soft, then turns and walks on wobbly legs to the cabinet that holds all the potions. He opens it, taking a potion out and swigging some down.
By the time he turns back to her his cock is rock hard again, standing at attention. She wails in despair at the sight, wishing she could escape yet filled with guilt at such a disloyal thought.
“Oh yes, my pet,” he says smiling evilly at her. “We’re not stopping anytime soon.”
* * *
The arrow flew out at Thralldrag with no warning, hitting his center mass but bouncing harmlessly off his armor. As one the party of adventurers react, drawing their weapons and pulling in close all while moving towards the forest edge where the arrow had come from.
A moment later a band of small green skinned goblins come rushing out at them, their small weapons drawn and more arrows flying out towards the party. Within seconds the two groups meet and combat begins.
The Dwarf charges head first into the band of goblins, swinging his mighty ax through multiple little green bodies and easily cutting them in half, blood and gore spraying everywhere.
Not far behind him is the Orc, Kel’raz. As he charges forward he bellows in rage, his already large and muscular body swelling and growing larger. He has to pull the massive long sword from his back with two hands but by the time he reaches the nearest goblin he has grown large and strong enough to wield it with one. With roars of glee he begins cutting through the little green men, slicing them in two as easily as a knife cuts butter.
Not far behind him Wilifreda the fire haired fighter stands fending off a group of spear wielding goblins, carefully deflecting their blows then lunging forward to stab whenever there is an opening.
Standing at her back is the cleric, Ehngel Lehning. The plump woman has drawn a mace and protectively holds it before her, fending off two Goblins. But it is clear that her main attention is not with her weapon. She clutches the symbol of her god that hangs around her neck and prays loudly, uttering words of devotion. First her fist begins to glow, then her whole body, then her whole party as the spell of protection and healing spreads to them all.
Gulvan Greenleaf, the Common Elf, has pulled back from the melee. He’s drawn his bow and is sending arrow after arrow flying through the air, over the shoulders of his traveling companions and into the woods where the Goblin archers lay hidden from his Human companion’s eyes, yet easily revealed to his. He fires his bow faster than any Human ever could and each arrow finds its home, causing a Goblin to scream out in pain and ceasing the flow of their arrows flying through the air.
The combat is over almost as fast as it began. Soon the five adventurers stand in the moonlit road, each breathing heavily and many of them covered in the blood of the Goblins, who all now lay dead at their feet.
“Foolish creatures,” Thralldrag says, kicking one of the small corpses. “Goblins stopped being a challenge to us ages ago,” he mutters.
“Indeed,” Wilifreida says, still catching her breath. “Hopefully we won’t run into any more road bumps before the end of the night.”
“It’s sad, really,” Ehngel says, kneeling down by the body of one of the dead Goblins and looking at it with forlorn eyes. “We should at least pile them by the edge of the road as we loot them. No point in burying them, though.”
“Indeed,” the Orc says, breathing heavily as the barbarian rage still courses through his swollen body. It will be some time before the rage dissipates and he returns to his normal size. “Besides,” he adds as he kneels and starts to rummage through the nearest corpse’s possessions, “theirs certain to be more of them nearby, a whole tribe of them I suspect. They’ll find the bodies and see to them before long.”
Gulvan stands apart from the others, not taking part in the looting. He remains on watch, his sharp Elven eyes watching for signs of more of the little beasts. “Shame Inetme’thul isn’t here. She could easily incinerate their bodies with her magic. But I bet she’s already at the inn, relaxing and doing nothing physically strenuous.”
* * *
Maaleas lay on his back under Inetme’thul, the High Elf laying on top of him and propped up on her elbows. She leans forward, resting her body on the Night Elves legs, her huge swollen breasts in his lap and wrapped fatly around his hard cock. She has hold of her breasts and is bouncing them up and down around his massive cock, sucking the tip as she does so.
Multiple orgasms worth of semen run down his shaft and drip from her face, pooling and oozing down her tits. Nearby sits two empty bottles and one still half full of an invigoration drought. Inetme’thul is exhausted. She’s been doing this for what feels like hours, the pleasure and need for release building up inside of her constantly. Even now tears stream down her face as she uses her tits to pleasure her master. It feels maddeningly good and she can feel the edges of her mind fraying. If only he would fuck her properly! Then she’d feel better, feel her mind recover wholly.
The Night Elf groans and starts to cum again, his ejaculate slowly oozing and gurgling out of his cock. The invigoration potions have made it so each load is nearly unimaginably large, yet his body seems to be showing some sign of wearing out. His cum no longer shoots forth from his cock, it only trickles forth like a great muddy yogurt, thick and slow.
This time he doesn’t reach right away for the potion, making Inetme’thul think maybe she’s earned a break. That hope dies quickly as he starts to grab and massage and maul her tits as they sit in his lap, his long cock grow soft and shriveling up between her breasts, disappearing into her cummy cleavage.
The cum is silky smooth as he smears and rubs it across her tender and swollen breasts. As he gropes and squeezes milk flows from her nipples, adding to the slippery mess. She moans deep in her chest, her eyes rolling up into her head. She’s painfully, frustratingly close to cumming and its only growing worse!
“This is your life now,” he tells her. “My loyal little High Elf titty-slut. I’ll use these tits every day, never giving you my cock in that needy little pussy of yours. You’ll never feel release again, never.”
She groans in despair, terrified by the prospect then feeling ashamed. This is what her Master wants, this is what will make him happy! So this is what she will do: be his loyal little titty-slut.
He pushes her off of him, rolling her over onto her back. He then gets up on his knees, taking a swig of the re-invigoration potion and waiting a moment to feel refreshed and for his cock to grow hard once again.
Then he climbs on top of the High Elf and slaps his cum covered cock down between her tits, the wet mixture of semen and milk splattering out from the impact. He then lovingly grabs her tits, lifting them up and together, wrapping them around his cock. He starts humping her chest, fucking her tits using the mess covering them as lubricant.
She wiggles under him, moaning in pleasure and pain as her body cries out for release. He says something but she doesn’t understand the words. She feels as though she’s going insane.
He lets go of her tits then slaps them both, hard and with an open hand that leaves angry red welts on her sensitive skin. The pleasurable shock of the sharp pain clears her mind and helps her focus in on his words. As he repeats what he said he grabs her tits again and returns to fucking them.
“That’s right, you stupid whore, you listen when I talk. THIS is what you were made for, this right here. You’re hot, but with tits this big you were destined to become some man’s titty-slut. Your pussy was just an afterthought by the gods, a cruel joke destined to be forgotten or ignored. And deep down I think you always knew it. How could you not with tits these big?”
He pauses as if waiting for an answer. She begins to cry then in a stuttering voice says, “Y-yes Master! I’m your titty-slut!”
“The bigger the tits the bigger the slut,” Maaleas says, ignoring her words. “You’ve always known this, deep down. It just took a man like me to prove it to you.”
He stops then, looking at her and stopping humping her chest. “You’d do anything I asked you, wouldn’t you?”
“Oh yes, Master,” she says quickly through her sobs of pain, frustration, and humiliation. “Anything you say.”
He smiles wide. “Well, at least for the next week.” He then looks down at her tits, sliding his hands through the wet mess on them and grabbing hold of her nipples with his thumb and forefingers. Looking back up at her tear streaked face he asks, “Anything?”
She nods yes but feels afraid of the evil glint in his eyes.
“Then cum,” he says, pinching her nipples and twisting them as hard as he can.
With all the potions she’s drunk, with as sensitive as her breasts are it would have been enough to force an orgasm from her even if she hadn’t been so worked up. But even as she feels her body start to cum the sensation dies, smothered by the accursed nipple jewels.
Another wail of despair echoes through the room, long and loud. “I can’t!” she screams, the pain and frustration sounding in every syllable of her words.
“Of course not,” Maaleas says with a cruel laugh. “Why should I expect a simple, stupid High Elf to be able to follow directions? You really are a near worthless cunt and you deserve to suffer.”
* * *
“There it is!” Ehngel cries out in joy. “Grayfair! Not a very big town, still, I’ll be happy to be resting in the inn soon. I’m oh so tired.”
“Pathetic,” Thralldrag the Dwarf mumbles. “Still, it will be nice to have some ale and a warm meal, one I haven’t cooked myself.”
Wilifreida nods. “I’ll enjoy that too. Let’s hope that if Inetme’thul beat us here that she doesn’t already have something lined up like Kel’raz hopes. I’d like at least a couple of days rest before we hit the road again.”
“Even if she’s there Elani might not be yet. Her business took her North and she’ll have been coming by a different road then us,” Gulvan said.
“Either way,” Kel’raz the Orc grumbles unhappily, “our journey is at an end for now and they’ll be no troubles for a short time.”
“Of course,” Ehngel says. “What kind of trouble would you expect in such a reputable inn?”
* * *
Inetme’thul is bent over the small seat between the two pillars her wrists are chained to, her ass sticking up in the air behind her and her large tits hanging off the other side. Maaleas has wrapped the loose chains around her wrists, securing her arms behind her back. He is now groping, tugging, and slapping her tits. Sometimes he uses two hands to grab hold of the base of one tit and work his way down, squeezing and draining her breast of milk. Below them is a pool of white fluid, mostly her milk but a healthy mix of cum as well. Every now and then he’ll stop mauling her tits to fuck them once again.
She has no idea how long this has been going on. Hours? Days? Weeks? Time has lost all meaning. There is only pain that melts into pleasure, humiliation that becomes pain and then pleasure, and then more pleasure. All of it building up inside of herself and becoming an unbearable need to get off, a need that will never be fulfilled.
It had caused the edge of her mind to fray at first. And then had caused the center to crack and finally to crumble. Time had lost all meaning, but so had reality as a whole. She barely has a sense of self left, barely remembers her own name.
“Tell me,” the voice of her Master says to her.
She blinks away tears, the world spinning around her. She can barely make out his dark blue skin. Her mouth hangs open, drool dripping from her tongue as it lolls out of her mouth. She pulls it back in and tries to form words, finding the task almost impossible. Finally she begins to speak even as he starts to milk her teats once more.
“M-my breasts. My big, fat, milk filled breasts. The pleasure in them… driving me mad. My mind, going. Gone. Can’t… can’t take more. But must. Must be Master’s loyal titty-slut.”
“Perfect,” Maaleas says, finally pulling away from her. He stands and stretches, yawning. “Must be morning by now,” he says absentmindedly. “I’ll need to get back to the inn. You rest,” he says to her. “Sleep, I’m sure you need it. But don’t worry, it won’t be long before I’m back.”
Inetme’thul is asleep before he is even done talking. Her body is drained beyond the point of exhaustion, her mind even more so. She’d sleep for as long as he let her, days probably if he was kind enough. But there is no hope for that. Her mind seems shattered but he doubts it is yet beyond repair. For that he’d need to keep working on her, every night. Every chance he gets.
Whistling happily he cleans himself up and then heads up the stairs, eager for a new day. A thought pulls at the back of his mind, though. The rest of her party is due to arrive at any time. He’ll need to take care of them in some way, make sure they don’t meddle and save Inetme’thul.
“Well,” he says, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips, “I’ve done it before and I can do it again.”
Choose 1 option from this poll:
Choose up to 8 options from this poll: