“Ceinwyn…” you mutter, pushing yourself to your feet.
Tri’lanna frowns. “What?”
“Ceinwyn. Your sister talked about her a lot, and took her form. She may be introuble.”
“You were thinking about Ceinwyn while we were doing that?” Her tone is half mocking, half really hurt. Then she sighs. “You’re a good man, Hans. We should go check on her.”
Shakily, the pair of you wander down the corridor. It is a sign of how stunned you both are by the aftermath of the love-making you shared that neither of your notice that you’re both naked. Then again, since the only clothing is the remains of Tri’lanna’s nighdress, there’s not much you could do about it.
You’re worried by how the mansion seems eerily deserted even for the dead of night. Ceinwyn’s room is empty, the door wide open. Seeing this, the pair of you tense up and, without speaking, begin to search the building.
Eventually, you come to the great hall, and stop in the doorway paralysed by lust and the spell. Unable to move and think, you take in the scene before you.
In the middle of the hall, Ceinwyn hangs on a frame that dangles from the ceiling on chains, face down. Her red hair trails to the floor. Her nightgown has been torn away, leaving only tatters around her waist and letting her breasts hang free. Her stunning ass is facing you, its curves clearly visible in a pair of fine silken panties that mush have been given to her to sleep in. There is a damp spot over her hidden cooch.
“She was masturbating when we came for her,” Lady Moirianara’s cold voice explains, seeing where your and Tri’lanna’s eyes have gone. She is sitting in her throne, completely naked. Her skin is porcelain smooth, her breasts high and proud. If she was human, you would have been unable to guess her age, still less so as she is an elf. Between her legs kneels a beautiful elven slave-girl, wearing a gauzy, transparent dress.
She raises a hand and murmurs a spell. Ropes uncoil from the air and tie around Tri’lanna, pulling her back and lashing her to a chair. When they settle and become still, you see she is utterly immobilised. One rope goes between her legs, separating her wet, puffy pussy lips.
Before she can respond with more than a startled shriek, Dasille steps out of the shadows behind the chair. She is dressed in a fine silk shirt which pulls tight over her breasts, its hem dangling down to just below her pussy. Her fine, pale legs are bare. She bends over almost daintily and pulls off her own panties, stuffing them into Tri’lanna’s mouth and tying them in place. From the faint scent, you guess that your now helpless elven lover has a mouth full of her own sister’s arousal.
And you still can’t move.
“Daughter,” Lady Moirianara says, her calm voice echoing throughout the hall, “It is my duty to educate you about the facts of life. You have formed an unhealthy attachment to these two humans. But they are basically animals, and now we are going to demonstrate that to you. In a moment, your ‘friend’ is going to do what he’s wanted to do for a long time. He will rape this human girl, taking her virginity and using her for his pleasure over and over, in her cunt and ass. She will scream at first, but soon she will start to enjoy it. All these animals wish to do is rut, dear. She wants to be made into a piece of meat, with no purpose other than to be used by him and filled with his seed, and he wants to do it to her, hard, with no thought to her desires. And so I have arranged this, so he will have no reason to restrain himself.”
“Mm mmm!” Tri’lanna mutters something angrily against the gang, struggling with the ropes.
“After all,” Moirianara continues. “These are fine specimens, and when you have two fine specimens of livestock, you breed them together. So, we will breed this bitch. We can keep their children as whores, or sell them as slaves. And after they’re done, we may let him use you the way he wants to make sure the lesson’s driving home. We’ll see how fond you are of humans after one has raped you brutally a few times. And then your sisters and I may have some fun – where is Kiraea anyway? And after we’re done with them, we’ll send him to the stables, and chain her up in the servant quarters for the guards and grooms to use.”
“Mmm mm!” Tri’lanna struggles harder. Behind her, Dasille has her hands between her legs, watching in eager anticipation of the show her mother has described.
“You’re wrong.” Ceinwyn says quietly, raising her head. “Hans is a kind man, a noble man. He would never rape me.”
“We’ll see.” Suddenly you can move again. You desperately want to prove Ceinwyn right, but lust thunders through you and you can’t take your eyes off her scantily clad body. |