You can find the new entry for the untitled Forest Witch poll driven story below the break. Or you can find the story in its current entirety HERE.
This is a short entry at just a little over 1,000 words and with no sex scene. And as a general content warning, this is a story being written for the Amazon market place so there will only be consensual sex and girl/girl action.
The meal was everything Bienya wanted it to be. Not just warm and filling, but she’d been left in peace as she ate as well, something that didn’t happen very often at a roadside inn. Places like this were the same all over Alaria, full of drunken locals or Adventurers high on bravado. To get to enjoy a meal without someone coming over and making a pass on her was something very rare.
Bienya didn’t think about it much, but it was only when the men hit on her that she’d be annoyed. When a woman made a pass at her she still never reciprocated, but it didn’t bother her. It often left her flustered and confused by feelings she didn’t understand, not because she couldn’t understand them but because she’d never taken the time to.
She was a Night Elve, sexuality was not the turbulent, messy, and immediate thing it was for members of non-elven races. For Humans and their ilk those kinds of feelings overtook them before they were even full-grown adults. Elven races were still sexual beings, but it often wasn’t till their mid lives, decades past when the average Human lived, that they would have their “awakening”.
Elves had better things to fill their time with. Important things that could consume their lives for decades while the brief-lived races had to turn their attention to baser instincts before their comparatively short lives were over.
With her belly full Bienya retired from the ground floor of the inn, retreating to the small room she’d rented for the night. A good night’s sleep and she’d wake with the energy to continue her quest, to continue striving to accomplish those important things she, as an Elven girl, was able to dedicate her life to without the distractions the lesser races experienced.
It was only as she entered the small room that she realized just how worn down from her travels she was. A single small window in the room let in a sliver of moonlight from the now dark world outside the inn. After closing and locking the door that light provided just enough illumination for Bienya to take off and store her gear before lighting the small candle on the one table in the room.
Only after she’d lit the candle did she realize she was not as alone as she’d thought. The second presence in the room with her caught her so off guard that she froze up on noticing them, staring dumbly at the figure sitting lazily on the bed in the back corner of the room.
It was a girl, barely of age by the look of her face pudgy round face. She was a Bunordaen, a member of a race that all had furry bunny-like ears. Bunordaens were generally simple people and most lived as farmers. Bienya had seen many of them working the small farms in the lands she’d been passing through. They had all looked like simple happy people living simple happy lives.
This girl looked like many of the young farm girls she’d seen. She was short with a thick build that looked to be a mix of soft chubbiness covering dense muscle from hard work on a farm. Her long white hair and big furry bunny ears were smudged with patches of dirt that matched the hard-worked soiling of the simple peasant’s clothing she was wearing.
It was the WAY the girl was wearing her clothing that had made Bienya lock up so fully. The skirt the plump girl had on was a bit too short and the way she had her legs spread open as she sat in the bed left her deliciously thick thighs on full display. The skimpy top she wore had straps over the shoulders, but one had slipped down her arm and allowed the front to fall half-open, exposing so much of the girl’s large, full breasts that it left Bienya flustered and excited in a way she didn’t quite understand.
Bienya found the calm laziness with which the girl sat there shocking. She struggled to pull her eyes away from the girl’s open legs and her full breasts. Bienya knew she had to try to understand why the girl was there, but the sight of her… it was like the Bunordaen’s body had cast some kind of spell on her that had left her muddled and unable to think past the strange heat the indecent flashes of flesh were causing in her core.
It was only when the Bunordaen girl lazily raised a carrot to her mouth and loudly chomped a bite off it that Bienya was able to break free of the spell. “Who are you?” she blurted out. A moment later she quickly added, “And what are you doing in my room?”
“I’ve been waiting for you,” the girl said with a disinterested shrug after another loud chomp on her carrot. “I was told you’d be here.”
“By who?” Bienya asked. She took a step back, glancing over her shoulder to where she’d set her gear down. The girl didn’t SEEM dangerous. She seemed little more than a slutty farmer girl… but looks could be deceiving. There were weapons in her gear… weapons she didn’t like having to use but had grown quite skilled with on her travels.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” the Bunordaen told her with such disinterest that Bienya couldn’t help but believe her. “I’m here for a reason.”
“And that is that?” Bienya demanded, forcing herself to keep her gaze locked on the girl’s eyes lest she became distracted once again by the rest of her body.
“I can take you to what you’ve been searching for,” she told Bienya with so much lazy indifference that it took Bienya a few moments to realize what the girl had said.
“And what, exactly, do you think I’m searching for?” Bienya asked, desperately trying to reveal her hope that the girl really could provide what she claimed.
“The forest,” the Bunordaen girl said, her eyelids half-closed as though the conversation were boring her so much she was falling asleep. “The cabin,” she added with the same lazy boredom. It was only when she added, “And the Faun,” that any kind of emotion animated her features beyond disinterest.
Bienya’s heart pounded in her chest. This felt right. This was why she’d been led to this inn.
But before she could think of how to respond the girl went on. “For a price,” she added, punctuating the sentence with a noisy bite of her carrot. “From here on out till the journey you’re on ends, EVERYTHING comes at a price.”
“Alright,” Bienya said slowly. “What’s the price?” She knew she’d pay it, no matter what. Everything had led her here, to this moment, to this slutty bunny-eared farm girl. If she wanted to go on she had to pay this price, no matter what it was.
What is the price the Bunordaen girl demands? (Choose up to 4 options)
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