Poll Driven Story: “Lyari Fenyarus’ Tale”

The newest installment of this story can be found below. If you want to see the story in its entirety to can go HERE.

 

* * *

 

The hulking red skinned god took a step back, admiring the sight of the broken Silver Elf kneeling before him, her massive tits covered and dripping cum. “What a beautiful sight,” he rumbled happily in his deep, echoing voice.

“You are mine now,” he tells her. “My servant. You will pledge yourself to me and only me. Say the words.”

Lyari, her body swaying weakly, looks up. Her eyes are out of focus and she barely sees the figure looming above her. “I am yours,” she mutters weakly. “I pledge myself to you, Baedor, and only you. I forsake all other gods and will live my life in your service.”

The words come easily. She’d made a similar pledge to another god. But now she can’t even remember that other deity’s name. Whatever hold it once had over her has been released.

The Silver Elf arches her back, moaning in pain. The moan then melts into one of pleasure as the god of sexual indulgence’s will overtakes her body. She shivers, feeling herself changed down to the core, feeling something reaching deep into her and wrapping itself around her mind and spirit. Red sparking energy surrounds her.

She gasps. This is more than Baedor’s power, more than any one god’s will infusing her very soul with its presence. For a brief moment the world bleeds away and she connects with this strange otherworldly force. For just a moment her understanding is total.

This is The Corruption. It is a force alien to Alaria yet invading every corner of it. She sees that ages ago it first seeped into the world through the godly beings then known as demons. She sees that they embraced it and were shunned by their brother and sister gods, saw them cast down. There was a great slaughter, many of the demons permanently banished and many others imprisoned.

The few that remained were viewed as lesser beings for a time, yet even though its followers were diminished The Corruption continued to seep into Alaria, little by little. She saw how the few gods it had infused with its power plotted, began to gather The Corruption around them and find ways to infuse it into other gods and goddesses.

Lyari sees that The Corruption is not evil but that it is sinisterly perverse and corrupting in all who it seeps into.

She sees flashes of Demons growing mighty, corrupting other gods with The Corruption. She sees that this is why so many deities have such sexually oriented forms of worship: these are the gods who have been touched and changed by The Corruption.

The Silver Elf also sees that many of Alaria’s gods still battle The Corruption, even though they don’t really understand it.

And then she blinks, the moment of understanding quickly fading and mostly forgotten, little more than a fever dream.

She sways, feeling changed. “I am yours, my Master,” she says staring up at Baedor. “Embrace me and mark me as yours.”

The god smiles, taking a step closer and waving one of his massive hands before her breasts. Energy sways and sparks dissolving the cum covering her breasts and then sharp pain shoots through her nipples. She yelps and looks down to find her nipples now pierced, a silver ring hanging from each one. The rings glow faintly with red energy, glowing energy that occasionally sparks with power.

“This shall mark you as my follower and allow me easy entry into your mind,” Baedor tells her. “I shall be able to guide your actions now as you carry out my will. But be warned,” he says, “it also marks you as one of my followers to those that appose me. When working in secret you will need to keep your glorious breasts covered and hidden.”

“I understand, my Master,” she mutters, staring at his massive, clawed feet.

“Good,” his voice rumbles. “I see you are a fast learner. You’ll be a good servant. And with that in mind I already have a task to send you to accomplish.”

She looks up, her face a mix of fear and eagerness. “What task, Master?”

“Not far from hear, barely over a day’s ride, is a keep that is manned by The Sisterhood of Righteousness. These accursed women are my greatest foe on Alaria. They work constantly to hinder me and my plans and above all to battle back The Corruption, although few know that forces proper name. It would be a simple matter for me to appear amongst these women and break their wills but they have grown smart in recent years. They put powerful protective enchantments on their keeps and safe houses, enchantments that keep me and the other Gods who work closely with me out.”

He paused, waving his hand before him. As he did so red sparking energy formed in his hand, coalescing into a small item. “This necklace is powerful. If placed around the neck of the woman in charge of the keep it will allow me past those enchantments, allow me to appear right before her.”

Lyari already saw what her task was, but she waited for her new Master to say the words.

“You must gain entry into their keep and find a way to place this around the neck of their high commander.”

“I understand,” the Silver Elf says. “How do you wish me to accomplish this task?”

The God shrugs. “I do not care how. Use your magic, your guile, anything at your disposal. But know I shall be watching and if you fail there shall be swift punishment. I reward those who serve, and punish those who fail.”

He pauses, giving the kneeling woman an appraising look. “But I don’t want you to fail,” he adds. “Tomorrow you shall ride away from this inn and when you do you shall feel the direction you need to ride. Follow that impulse and it will lead you to another of my servants. They will join you in your quest and be someone you can use to fuel your wild magic.”

Lyari starts to ask a question but as she opens her mouth she watches as Baedor starts to step back away from her. As he does billowing red-black smoke starts to swirl up and around him.

“Now sleep,” he bellows, the sound of his voice shaking the room and causing Lyari to collapse. Even as sleep starts to overtake her she hears her new Master’s last words. “You shall wake with a new disposition on life and clarity on what to do next.”

 

* * *

 

Lyari is slowly awoken by the warmth of the morning sun shining in through the rented room’s window and bathing her naked body in relaxing heat. She stretches, raising her arms above her head and arching her back, luxuriating in the heat on her overlarge and sensitive breasts. The heat feels so good that she decides to keep her eyes closed, simply enjoying its warmth.

Her mind wanders to the strange dream she had the night before. So vibrant is its memory in her mind that she questions for a moment whether it was real. More of a nightmare than a dream, she thinks to herself. Yet as she remembers the dream of the red skinned god fucking her into submission she feels a warmth building in her core, a warmth not related to the sun shining in through the window.

Unable and unwilling to ignore that warmth in her core Lyari lets her hands begin to wander, caressing her naked skin and building the internal flames into a vast hungry fire. She’s eager to move her hands down to her pussy, eager to begin masturbating. More eager, really, then she’s ever felt for self pleasure before.

Strange, she thinks, I’m normally not so self indulgent in my sexual desires. Masturbation can feel gloriously good yet it serves little purpose beyond pleasure. She can’t siphon magical energies from herself. She’s always preferred to have a partner nearby, to leach off their energies as she fucks.

Still, she finds the urge to pleasure herself undeniable.

She lets one hand move down her body, the tips of her fingers tickling her naked skin as they move down her soft stomach towards her pussy. Her other hand moves to the bulk of one of her overlarge breasts, cupping its side and grabbing at it. Again she arches her back, this time moaning at just how good it feels to touch her breast so.

Just as her fingers begin to dance around her clit, slowly working to coax it out of its fleshy hiding place, her other hand moves up the bulk of her breast. She has just started masturbating when her fingers move in to pinch her nipple.

Her eyes fly open and she sits up so fast it makes her dizzy. She looks down at her nipple, her eyes darting from one and then to other. Her heart is racing and her breathing is fast.

Her nipples are pierced. Pierced with metal rings that glow faintly with red energy.

It was no dream.

 

* * *

 

“Thank you, Maaleas, for sending your man Hob to gather the supplies I need,” Lyari says to the innkeeper.

The man seems crest fallen that she is leaving his inn so soon. His eyes dart down frequently to the top of her traveling cloak, glancing into the darkness at her hidden cleavage. It is clear the man had hoped to get a better look at her breasts before she left. The thought makes a smile tug at the edge of her lips.

Maybe next time, she thinks. And she’s certain there WILL be a next time. She’s certain at one point before long she’ll be back here at the Crossroads in.

“Of course,” he says, smiling and trying to hide the disappointment that the attractive, busty Silver Elf is leaving his inn so soon. “Where do your travels take you now?” he asks.

“My business is my own,” she says quickly and in an angry tone, more out of habit than anything else. Then she feels a tug on her mind, a pulling in a specific direction and somehow she innately knows that her destination is not far. “But I have a feeling I shall not be traveling far,” she adds, her tone more friendly. “And who knows, perhaps I shall be returning soon.”

The innkeeper seems to brighten at this. “I hope you do,” he adds, helping Lyari up onto her horse.

She nods and gets comfortable in her saddle, checking one last time to make sure the side bags and her trunk are well affixed to the beast. “Good day to you,” she says then kicks the beast to get it moving forward.

Riding out into the street before The Crossroads Inn Layari finds herself standing at the crossroads it’s named after. For a moment she has the beast ride in a small circle as she concentrates on the feeling inside of her. “North,” she mutters, turning to head down that road. “Definitely North,” she adds, making the horse gallop faster.

 

* * *

 

Lyari Fenyarus rides north for a few hours at a steady pace. Then the feeling inside that is leading her urges her to turn off the road and head into the wooded hills on her right. She quickly finds an overgrown path, a trail that had once been heavily used but was now so overgrown few would notice it lest they stand upon it.

Her insides tell her to follow the path so that’s what she does. She rides at a slow but steady pace following the path as it leads up into the hills. The forest around her quickly begins to thin, replaced by rocky outcroppings that make seeing ahead hard.

The path winds and turns through the rocks, leading her deeper into them. Soon she begins to see swirling images and strange geometric runes carved into the stones. Some of the stones covered in carvings stand tall and narrow, ancient monoliths that are now half covered in moss. Many of them lay tipped over or broken in half, weathered by the ages.

“Ruins,” she mutters, slowing her horse down. Alaria is covered in them. Before the great collapse the world was covered in vast cities built with now long forgotten skill. The great collapse had depopulated the world and led to whole continents being drained of almost all their people.

Now the ruins lay forgotten in the wilds, many full of long forgotten treasures. Yet where there is treasure there are monsters and far worse. Lyari becomes painfully aware just how helpless she is at the moment. Her magical energies are empty and she feels as though should she face danger she would be unable to cast even the simplest of defensive spells.

Yet something pushes her on, making her feel that she is doing the right thing riding into the labyrinthine ruins.

She rides around a large rock, one that looks as though it might have at one point been a building carved out of the very living stone that stands tall out of the ground. As she comes around the corner she sees before her a tall hill, a circle of standing stones on its top. And there, in the center of the stones, sits a hooded figure on a horse covered in supplies much like her own.

“This is the servant Baedor has sent to me,” she says. “I can feel it.”

 

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