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Chapter Eighteen


The arrival of the Dark Queen had disrupted the equilibrium of the Gorge. Brock, already insecure about his position, was made even more so, and Master’s concerns about the intentions of her beloved had deepened. I could see the rift that was forming between Brock and Master, and indeed, the rift in Yavara’s own court. As of now, the greatest threat the two posed was to each other, for the division they sowed would pull at the Dark Queen, and paralyze her. The morally-flexible Zander Fredeon wouldn’t allow such a division to form, and I feared what he and his Prestira might do if they felt Master and Brock had worn out their usefulness. So, I took matters into my own hands.

“Mother, what are you doing?!” Diamond gasped.

I looked up at my first born. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Pissing in the whisky!”

“Your eyesight hasn’t failed you Dear.” I smiled at her, squatting over the gallon jug.

Diamond glanced nervously over her shoulder. “Why are you pissing in Brock’s whisky?”

“Do you hear that?” I inclined my head to the boisterous sounds in the next room, “Does that sound like a happy party, or drunken brawl ready to happen?”

Diamond listened to the sounds of tense laughter, cutting jests and cautious jeers. She turned back to me. “A brawl ready to happen.”

“Exactly.” I said, standing up and blotting myself with a nearby towel. “And in our urine, is a very special little chemical. It makes people happy, and it makes them want to love each other. They sound like they could use some love.” I pushed the cork back into the jug’s head. “Besides,” I grinned at Diamond, hoisting the jug, “Brock’s whisky tastes like piss anyway; no one will notice the difference.”


“Brock, your whisky tastes like piss!” I cackled, spraying the table.

Brock growled, the knife flashing between his fingers.

“And… time. Thirty seconds.” Certiok said, swaying precariously on her feet beside her father-in-law.

Brock imbedded the knife into the wood, a confident smirk on his face. “Drink the piss, Ranger.”

I sneered at the orc, and downed another shot of his disgusting concoction. At least the burn killed my taste buds. I belched, wiped my mouth, then pulled the knife from the tabletop. Slapping my hand onto the table, I splayed my fingers, and steadied the knife. God, this shit was strong. I was already seeing double.

“Elena are you sure that’s a good decision?” Zander asked beside me, nursing his drink with Prestira pinned to his side.

“You know where good decisions get you, Zander?” I slurred, squinting at my spread hand, trying to decipher which one was the real one, “They get you a couple kids, a steady job, and a mid-life crisis. Then you die.”

“You’re too young to be this cynical.”

“You’re too old to be this boring. Aaaaand, I have all my fingers, the knife goes chop-chop-chop, if I miss the space in between, my fingers will come off!” I sang, stabbing the knife into the table in time with the song, “And if I hit my fingers, blood will soon come out, but all the same I play this game because that’s what it’s all about! Time!”

Certiok raised her brows. “Twenty-five seconds.”

I leaned over, my nose an inch from Brock’s. “Drink, orc.”

Brock grinned, and downed his shot. “I just have to outlast you, Ranger. How many more shots can that little body take before Zander has to pump your stomach?”

“For someone who looks like half a ton, you’re a fucking light weight.” I laughed, stumbling back into my chair, “Besides, Zander will be reattaching your fingers long before I get alcohol poisoning.”

“I’m tempted to just let you two live with your mistakes.” Zander frowned at us. Down the table Trenok and Patricia were in a heated arm-wrestling match, Yavara egging them on. Well, Trenok was in a heated arm-wrestling match; Patricia was making a show of yawning and checking her nails. With an effortless motion of her forearm, she flung Trenok clear off the edge of the table, much to the delight of the bubbly Dark Queen.

I grinned at Brock. “Like father, like son. You can give up before you embarrass yourself; there’s no shame in losing to a woman.”

“Is that what you’re calling yourself?” Brock grunted, steadying the knife.

I slid the robe off my shoulders, and let it fall to my waist. Brock gawked at my bare breasts, his poised hand swaying. “What’s the matter, Brock?” I tittered, “Something distracting you?” I hunched forward onto the tabletop, pressing my breasts together, sucking my thumb.

Brock tore his gaze away, fixed his jaw, and steadied his hand. Boisterously singing the song, he ran the knife between his fingers with lightning speed, then stabbed the table. “Time!”

“Twenty seconds.” Certiok announced.

I slammed another drink before the leering orc chieftain, a drop of burning whisky dribbling down my chin, splashing on my chest, and running to my nipple. God, I was hot. My body seemed to burn beneath the skin, but not just with the warmth of liquor. I was becoming increasingly aware of the growing stiffness between my legs, barely concealed by the bunched robe in my lap. And oh, I was wet! I took the knife in one hand, and planted the other onto the tabletop. The grains of the wood surface were rough and pleasant against my hand, a juxtaposition to the smooth handle in my other palm, warm with body heat, the cold sharp steel at the end, glinting in the firelight. I wondered how it would feel laid across my bare flesh, the deadly edge tickling me in vulnerable places, guided by a dangerous, teasing hand. God, what the hell is happening to me?

“Elena!” An indignant voice yelled. Yavara strode behind Brock, her gait a struggle of intoxication, “How dare you expose yourself before your queen!”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Of course!” Yavara huffed, raising her chin. Then her lips creased into a wicked smile, and she slid out of her dress, “You can only expose yourself after your queen.”

My eyes fixated on Yavara breasts, the pink nipples hard and moist against her bronze globes, which were perched in gravity-defying fullness above her flat belly. I didn’t know why they transfixed me so; I’d seen them plenty of times, but oh… oh, they looked so good!

“Yavara, cover yourself.” I hissed, holding the knife aloft, “You’re distracting me.”

“Am I?” Yavara grinned, leaning onto the table, “Then it’s a fair contest.” She giggled, “Brock is practically lifting the table with his cock right now.” Her voice became low in my ear, “I think your little minions have been busy little bees.”

I looked over Brock’s shoulder, where in the shadows surrounding the hut, Crystal was biting her lip, looking as guilty as could be. I glanced over at Prestira, whose porcelain face was flushed, her skin glimmering beautifully, her white eyes transfixed on me. Zander was staring a hole through Certiok’s head, Certiok was ogling him back, Trenok was rubbing his shoulder as he gazed at Patricia, who was returning the look with red ravenous eyes. With effort, I raised the knife over my hand. It seemed the entire room hinged on my movement, their eyes fixing on the edge of the knife, their breaths bated. They were waiting, waiting for blood to be drawn so that they could become animals. The semblance of civility was crumbling, the very fabric of society stretching at the point of my blade, longing to tear. I didn’t even sing the song, but simply stabbed the table in flurry of motion, my rhythm gone, my vision hazed, the blood pounding in my ears. I could smell the arousal in the room, the hormone-rich perfume that sublimed from our loins, that primal signaler that saturated the ancient parts of our minds. Thump, thump, thump; was it the blade hitting the table, or my heart beating in my chest? I couldn’t know. Thump, thump, thump. I gasped, sweet pain lancing up my forearm. The knife wagged into the table, its slim edge opening the tip of my finger. The room was silent as I held my hand aloft, and watched the deep crimson draw a path into my palm. A covetous hand clasped me gently, and brought my finger to blood-red lips. I barely recognized Prestira in her vampiric form. Her features were a display of gothic beauty, and with a shrug of her shoulders, her silver robe cascaded from her, revealing a body that had transformed into a celebration of muscle and curves. Her slit pupils consumed her irises as she took my finger into her mouth, and sucked it.

“Delicious.” She whispered, her voice sounding through the room, “Can I have more?”

“Yes.” I whispered back.

Then it began. I didn’t know who coupled with who, but I saw the flurry of motion, heard the moans and cries, smelled the joining of flesh. Prestira had me against the wall, my wrists pinned above my head, her mouth consuming mine. Our tongues entangled voraciously, her fangs biting into my lips, secreting her narcotic into me. The wet squishing of our breasts deepened with the joining of our bodies, our thighs pressing, my cock traversing her abdomen, springing between her legs, gliding through her petals. Entering her.


I wore my vampiric body like armor. I wasn’t Prestira Rasloraca, the woman who’d been raped to insanity; I was this beast, this apex killer who knew no weakness. I growled into Elena’s mouth as I took every inch of her, feeling her bulging against my tender walls, splitting me. She was a woman, not one of those things that had tortured Prestira Rasloraca, but a being of my own disposition. She looked into my eyes with an empathy only our sex could have, and she drove her hips with a compassion a man never could. She was perfect, my angel, my healer. I wrapped my lips about her throat, and drank freely of her blood. She surged into me as I extracted life from her, my body burning with it, the enchanting toxins of the dark-elf. I gasped when I’d had my fill of her, my eyes rolling back, my nerves electrified.

We were on the floor. I was straddling her, my thighs locked around her waist as she impaled me relentlessly, a piston that fucked deeper with every drive. There were little fingers on my shoulders, on my hips, on my ass, and they pulled apart my clapping cheeks to snake long forked tongues into my anus. I cried out, looking over my shoulder to see a redhead and a caramel brunette joining their tongues in a spiral of wet flesh, their expressions wrought with lechery as they slithered deep into my vile tightness, cleaning me out. There were more of them then, all six of them, framing me, their petite bodies seeping warmth into mine, their tongues gliding along my curves, entering my mouth, wrapping my nipples. Elena drove forward with a succession of thrusts, and I was on my back in a bed of women, their gentle flesh encasing me, bringing me deeper into their embrace.

“Taste me.” The matriarch whispered, drawing her fingers up her tantalizing throat.

“No!” I gasped.

She smiled warmly at me. “I can see what’s been done to you, Prestira Rasloraca, and it can only be undone by the same blood.”

“Please, no!” I cried, fearing more than anything what my body craved, my blood remembering the poison the pirates had put in me, the extract of succubus.

Elena leaned in through the press women, her bronze features relaxed in kindness, her lips parting to expel her pleasured breaths. She framed my face with her hands, her fingers entangling in my ringlets, and she drove into me with long hard thrusts, making me feel every wonderful inch of her. My thighs splayed, my chin tilted, and I gasped with every long retreat and sudden entrance.

“Give it to me.” I whispered, my eyes topping my lids, my mouth gaping. My belly clenched in rolls of flesh below my swaying breasts, each nipple taken by a sucking mouth. Elena fucked me like I wanted, like I needed, showing me with every thrust what it meant to love cock.

“Take it.” Elena hissed, her body tense and restrained, holding back on what she wanted to do to me. It used to excite me beyond description to imagine what a man would do to me when he had control, what pleasures he would force into me through his violence and rage. Had that part of me died? I looked at the presented throat of the one called ‘Crystal,’ and drew my gaze along the vein. With trepidation, I placed my mouth around her neck, and bit.

Sweet pleasure washed through me, a warmth and desire that was terribly familiar, but oh, so sweet! I was encased it in, radiating from within as I lounged in the bed of flesh, indulging in the excess of women. “Oh, fuck me!” I groaned, a sound that was both joyous and defeated. Elena did. She grabbed my thighs, spread me wide, and rammed into me without mercy, pummeling my pelvis with her crotch, sending those sweet shocks deep, deep inside me. The tongues wriggled in my ass, reentered my throat, wrapped my nipples, and Crystal herself straddled my belly so that she could play with my clit. Overloaded in the sea of soft pleasures and hard ecstasy, I lost my mind to the poison in my blood. I arched my back, pressing my asscheeks into the two women eating the hole between them, rising in bow of euphoria. I turned my head and connected eyes with Yavara across the room.

Hi Mommy. She grinned open-mouthed, her face possessed with pleasure, her body bent over atop the table, Brock behind her.

Hi baby-girl.


I turned my gaze from Prestira, and back to my meal. Certiok’s thong was shoved to the side, revealing her tight pussy-lips as they gripped Zander’s shaft. Her face turned about a muscular shoulder to give me a beckoning leer, her breast-strap hugging the toned splendor of her tattooed back. My eyes drew up the delicious length of her lewd options, and rested on the puckered center of her anus. She winked it for me. I grabbed her succulent cheeks with both hands, buried my face between them, and tasted her vile hole. It was impossible for to me to be delicate with my tongue when Brock was driving into my cunt like he wanted to split me in half, each thrust squishing my face into the elastic crack before me. So I devoured Certiok’s shithole with sloppy gluttony, tasting the decedent tang of her, enjoying the soft wet texture therein. She looked back with wide eyes, her full lips parted to yield moan after moan. Sweat ran in rivulets down her spine, pooling against the point of my nose, carrying the richness of her arousal into my nostrils. I grinned deviously around my consumption, and deepened the penetration of my wriggling tongue, sucking upon her rim until it was swollen and throbbing. All the while, Brock drove into me, his cock sliding through my tight reaches, pounding into my cervix, sending spasms deep into my belly. My back bowed, my shoulders pinched together, and I drove my hips back in contest with him, meeting in the middle, each impact electrifying me to the tips of my fingers and toes. I growled like a beast, slid my thumbs into Certiok’s ass, and pried. She snarled back at me, the warrior princess flashing rage and desire in turn, her athletic back flexing in its bow. I burrowed my muzzle into her widening hole, lathering her exit, feeling her anal walls fluttering and coiling with every motion of my tongue. Zander hooked his elbows below her knees and surged into her, and I had to wrap my arms around her waist just to keep my face planted. But I did. Even as Certiok bucked and heaved, crying out and writhing in a samba of depravity, I kept my mouth on her, and tortured her hole until she lost her equanimity, her ferocity, and began blubbering and whining like a whore.

“Please my queen, have mercy!” She cried. But she didn’t want mercy, I and I was merciless. I circled the delicate fleshy ridges that rimmed her insides, each one flattening under my tongue. I could feel the contractions Zander caused her on the other side, the relentless blast of his cock bulging against the membrane that divided Certiok’s holes. I knew what would push them over the edge. Keeping one arm hooked around Certiok’s waist, I lowered my other beneath Zander, found his crack, and drove my middle finger up his ass. He roared, and made poor Certiok pay for my audacity. Oh, did she pay. I pressed against Zander’s prostate and controlled the wizard like a puppet, sending his pelvis ratcheting into the nubile orc princess until she was shrieking and sobbing, her insides churning with sensation, every motion a labor of euphoria. I didn’t stop eating her ass until she flung her braided hair back in an arc, and exalted to the ceiling, blasting Zander’s belly with a sudden stream of her release.

Then, satisfied that I’d shown Certiok something she had not known about herself, I parted from her pulsing anus, and enjoyed Brock. In my hazed vision, I connected eyes with Trenok, smiled, and winked.


By the look on Certiok’s face, I knew I’d be expected to eat ass the next time we were intimate. By the smug look on Queen Yavara’s face, I also knew I’d disappoint. Well, that was fine with me. My tongue may not have been as dexterous as the Dark Queen’s, but what I had between my legs more than made up the difference. I just hoped I got it back from Patricia. Getting a blowjob from a vampire was almost as frightening as it was appealing. I was lying on the table, Patricia’s big red eyes twinkling up at me, her pointed nose canlı bahis centering her pristine pale portrait, her blood-red lips forming an oval of suction about my meat. She hummed hedonistically as she took me at her pace, her neck bulging as I slid easily down her throat. She was naked save for a pair of fishnet stockings, and my eyes drank in every inch of her; the predatory hunch of her shoulders, the elegant curve of her back, the parabolic rise of her spine that ended in a tailbone between two spread fishnet-clad cheeks. I couldn’t help but feel like downed prey being feasted upon. Her hands splayed against my inner thighs, gently guiding them to part. With access to everything between my legs, Patricia’s elegant fingers moved deftly upon my vulnerable places, cupping my balls, rolling them in her palm. I groaned, transfixed by the sights and sensations she provided, a willing captive to her sensual cannibalism.

She withdrew with a pop, my cock springing from her lips to rest on her face, throbbing against one side of her nose, covering one eye. She smiled behind it at me. “I always thought orc would taste foul,” she showed me the ruby length of her tongue, then drew it all the way up me, “but you’re absolutely delectable.” She sank her fangs into my shaft.

I lurched with the sudden pressure in my loins, feeling my cock engorge in a way it never had before. “You bit me!” I gasped.

“I couldn’t resist.” Patricia said husky, rising in a lithe display of muscle and curves. She stood over me, looking down with an imperious stare. She held that look as she squatted, centering me between her spreading cheeks, pressing against the tiny white aperture an inch behind her pussy. She groaned as she impaled herself, her rim thinning with tension, glistening with the lust that drooled from her vacant slit. Down, down, down she went, taking me effortlessly into her tight filth, constricting my throbbing cock with her innards until her cheeks pillowed my pelvis, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from coming.

“Oh, fuck!”

“You like my little asshole?” Patricia smiled down, one of her eyes concealed by a curtain of black hair. Her robust netted thighs splayed to the side, showing the perverse joining of our bodies, the way her shithole consumed me to the base, the vivid blush of cunt against her alabaster flesh. She put her hands on my chest, pinned me to the table, and rode me. Up and down, up and down she raised herself, my pole forming a tent with the tight flesh of her pelvic floor.

“You’re so big, Trenok.” She gasped, sliding up my length once more, “It’s a shame that you’re wasting this gift.”


She dropped herself atop me, growling as she curved downward like a feline, her face an inch from mine. “If I wanted to fuck myself, I’d find a broomstick.” She hissed, her nose wrinkling in a snarl. She grabbed my hands, and roughly guided them to her ass, making me squeeze until her supple flank enveloped my digits, my knuckles caught in the netting. “Fuck! Me!” She growled. And with a laugh, I surged into her, and wiped that bitchy expression off her face.


Trenok had my wrists pinned together behind my back, his tusked lips greedily sucking from my breast, his other hand pulling my hair back, making me exalt to the ceiling. His cock pounded into my tightest hole, opening the fleshy cuff within, finding my most vulnerable depths. I growled like the beast I was, my red lips curving in a decadent smile, moaning as I enjoyed the orc’s savagery. From heavily-lidded eyes, I connected gazes with Certiok Protaki Terdini. Did she enjoy watching me fuck her husband? Zander and Mom had left her lying in a pool of her own making, hyperventilating ecstatically into the tabletop as she watched me. Ah, there was that look, that comingling of jealousy and arousal. Orc women were so very territorial; would Certiok seek to claim me as a prize to share with her husband, or would she challenge me for position? The lithe princess got onto shaking hands and knees, and crawled across the table. I swiveled to face her, stirring my clenching asshole around her husband’s driving cock, baring my fangs and displaying with open legs all that I’d taken from her. I was ready for the lustful battle, to match fingers and tongues, and see which woman’s prowess was greater. But as she approached me, Certiok ducked her head demurely, presenting submission. I raised my brows in surprise, and beckoned her forward with a single finger. She smiled coyly and complied, hunching her shoulders as she crawled between my legs.

“I expected more fight from a warrior princess.” I smiled sardonically, drawing my thumb across her lush lips, parting them to expose her subtle tusks.

“Your mother has sapped my aggression.” Certiok giggled, “I’m feeling quite defeated now.”

“Are you?” I grinned, beckoning her to rise with my thumb upon her chin, “Then I will plunder you without struggle.”

“Yes.” She hissed, shivering. She tilted her head, drawing back her braided hair to expose the delicious bow of her neck. Her eyes were a comingling of fear and desire, that look I so loved to see in my victims. I sank my fangs into her throat, and pulled her blood into me. My heart thundered alive with the sustenance, and my eyes grew wild as Certiok wilted into my arms with an overwhelmed sigh. Licking my lips clean of her, I guided her down between my legs, and let her be the servant she so desired to be. Oh, did she serve well.

Do you see what I see? Mom’s voice broke into my head.

I looked up at her. She was nearly bent in half with the exaggerated curve of her back, staring rapturously into Brock’s eyes as he made a mess of her cunt. And though Brock gazed reverently back at his queen, I couldn’t help but notice the looks he stole across the room. There, Elena Straltaira and her little beasties were feasting upon the vampiric Prestira. Elena conducted the sensual frenzy, but her attention was periodically diverted across the room to watch Mom and Brock. Was there a look of curiosity on her face when she gazed upon Mom’s predicament? Was there a touch of envy?

Do you see it too? Mom asked in my mind, her eyes cornering slyly at me, her face a portrait of intense ecstasy.

They wanted to kill each other a second ago.

Funny how that works.’

She’s a lesbian.

Straight girls have gay awakenings when they’re drunk; why should it be different for gay girls? Everyone has a duality to their sexuality. Sometimes, they just need someone else to help them unlock it.

You’re such a corrupting influence.

Innocence was made to be corrupted, like the flower was made to be pollinated; why else would the wicked find it so alluring? Mom’s eyes traversed the length of my bowed body, taking in the depravity I displayed, It’s a shame your innocence was so fleeting.

I am your daughter.

Mom’s gaping smile broadened. Now watch your mommy work.


I felt a familiar tongue in an unfamiliar place. I looked behind myself to see Yavara’s orange eyes twinkling up at me, her hands gently parting my cheeks, her smiling lips wrapping around my anus. I gawked back at her, spellbound by the feeling she bored wetly into me, the sensuality with which she pressed her anal kiss. My eyes drew down the bowed length of her spine, to the green muscular slab of abdomen behind it, rising to a robust chest framed by capped shoulders, every inch of vascular flesh tattooed with tribal sigils. Brock Terdini was the posterchild for masculinity, and for a reason I couldn’t explain, it stirred something in me. He gripped Yavara’s hips, and thrusted violently, squishing my beloved’s face deep into my ass. The momentum carried me into Prestira, whose vampiric eyes were violet with my slave’s toxins, and whose actions were of pure, mindless bliss. She cried out with the sudden force of my thrust, drawing her arms out in a languorous motion, her splayed fingers caressing the nodes and curves of the beasts feeding upon her.

Brock thrusted again, and Yavara squealed a muffled tone against me, her tongue finding my prostate, sliding along it. But I wasn’t paying attention to her, only to the man who was using her as an extension of his cock, pushing its tip into my ass. He was staring at me like a man possessed, his eyes topping his shadowed brow, his tusked mouth fixed in a grimace. He thrusted again, and again, and again. Yavara squirmed and shrieked in delight, and I cried with her, staring back at him with a heated expression, my cheeks flushed, my pale lips parted and breathing heavily. I hardly noticed the way my cock felt buried inside Prestira, but I noticed acutely the saturation of my female nethers, the throbbing desire in my virgin slit, the pulsing vacancy deep in my anus.

“This is how I did it, Ranger.” Brock growled at me, pulling out of Yavara’s cunt, showing me the sheened length of his cock. Did my heart flutter at the sight of it? Did I bite my lower lip? I couldn’t say. Yavara mewled into my asshole, begging with her writhing hips what she’d wanted all along. Brock steadied the Dark Queen, but he was looking at me, only at me as he pressed his tip to her anus. “When I raped your beloved princess that night, this is how I did it. Watch. Me.”

With one thrust, he drove his slickened weapon to the hilt, causing Yavara to wrench in reaction, her corrupted body accommodating every inch of the orc with relish. Like an addict finally getting her fix, she quivered in euphoria, whimpering for more. Her tongue lolled stupidly inside me, simply trying to taste all that it could in a mindless fervor. Brock stared at me from his mess of braids, his nose snarling, his tusks gleaming.

“I took your precious Yavara, and I raped her virgin shithole until she begged me to stop.” Brock growled, thrusting with long, violent motions, making me feel the shock that ran through Yavara every time he did. My thighs leaked with foreign need, my legs trembled. I couldn’t take my eyes off Brock, couldn’t help but imagine how he must feel inside Yavara. How he would feel inside me. The power he had, the overbearing will of a man. Had I never noticed it before? Had I never before felt its spell upon me?

“But I didn’t stop, Ranger,” Brock said lowly to me, “I fucked her until her mind broke, and she became nothing but a baseless slut, begging for cock.” Brock pressed his hand into the small of Yavara’s back, and tore himself out. Yavara shrieked into my depths, her anus outflowing and budding in a glistening rose, pulsing with the accelerating beat of her heart. She collapsed onto her belly, her mouth leaving me, and she writhed on the floor in orgasm. Brock stepped unceremoniously over his queen, and loomed over me. So imposing, so strong and undeniable. Had I never felt this weakness before, this primal desire to yield to the alpha? I’d been with domineering women before, but this… this would require me to open myself in a way I had never known. To accept the invasion of another, to allow him to touch those sacred feminine places that had never been disturbed before. It would be done to me. Rape. Force. Beg. These were the words Brock had used. Not in the playful sense I had uttered with Yavara, but in earnest. He would be violent, he would use me, he would degrade me and break me as he had done to Yavara. He would make me like her, my mind twisted, my soul tainted, my very nature changed by the corruption of evil pleasures. I pulled out of Prestira without thinking, and faced him. Those abhorrent things whispered within me, a primeval compulsion that I could not deny. I was half dark-elf, and this was how dark-elves became women. We were whores by nature, our depths unknown even to us. And those instincts that had been raped into me by the woman I loved, compelled me to reach out with curious fingers, and wrap my hand around Brock’s enormous cock. I marveled at the feeling of it in my palm, the heat coming off it, the way it throbbed with engorgement. It felt right. In that moment, I knew there’d been something missing in my life since I’d transformed, and it was this. Oh, it was this! I became aware of my other-self, a piece of me that I’d buried so deeply that I hadn’t even known of its existence. But how had I not realized it? For it was as obvious as the organ between my legs. My masculine side, born from the transformation of my female body. It was as gay as my feminine side was.

I tilted my face up to Brock, my vision veiled violet with my succubus pheromones, and with what little breath I had in my chest, I whispered, “Rape me too.”


My blood was boiling in my veins, my breaths were heated, my entire being was focused on her. When I got like this, there was no holding me back. She didn’t want me to hold back. I could tell by the glint in her sapphire eyes as she looked back at me, her tiny elf body bent over with her face pressed to the floor, that she wanted it too bad to care how she got it. These dark-bloods were a different breed. I pressed my tip to her pink puckered center, admiring the hairless ribbon of taint that led to her flushed cunt, which glistened with readiness. Her pathetic cock was rigid and leaking stings on the floor between her toned legs, the faggot in her writhing for me. I was about to drive myself all the way in when a small hand stopped me. Queen Yavara pressed her fingers to my abdomen, staying me with her incalculable strength. She moved before Elena, and rested her lover’s platinum-haired head in her lap.

“You’re not just doing this for me, are you?” Queen Yavara asked Elena sweetly.

“No,” Elena’s voice was husky and riddled with need, “I just want it so bad! You ruined me, you bitch!”

“I did.” Queen Yavara giggled proudly, elevating Elena’s head, running her finger through her nearly-white hair, “Now I’m going to ruin you more. I’m going to turn you into an anal slut just like I did with Prestira.” Queen Yavara’s eyes alighted with something evil, “No more hiding behind your boring lesbianism, oh no; you’re going to be the dark jewel of my kingdom, the most depraved little cunt in the world. You and I are going to have so much fun together, Elena, but first, we have to change you.” Queen Yavara leaned forward, and spit. The glob landed on Elena’s tailbone, and slowly traveled down her crack, pooling around her coiled button. Queen Yavara eased herself back, took Elena’s wrists, and pinned them to the floor before her. Her expression was wild and full of dangerous lust, and I saw the way Elena was hypnotized by it, both in love and terror. Queen Yavara looked to me. “Break this whore in.”


Pain. Pain and pleasure suffusing my body, taking over my senses, my very mind! I gazed into Yavara’s eyes, seeing my agonized and ecstatic face reflected from her crazed orange lenses. I didn’t recognize her when she was like this. There was no compassion in the gaze, but only avarice and arousal, something as terrible as it was captivating. It compelled me to do as she desired, to please her though I knew she was insatiable, to delve lower though I knew her depths had no bottom. Terror and desire; a concoction that bathed my synapses in primal mania, stripping my identity with every inch the orc pushed inside. Deeper and deeper he went into me, stretching me near to rending, testing the elasticity of my chastity until I thought I would rupture. But I didn’t. This lewd body I’d been cursed with, blessed with, it took Brock all the way. Each. Terrible. Wonderful. Inch. When his balls slapped against my cunt and cock, and his crotch pressed to my tailbone, I whimpered, and collapsed in Yavara’s lap.

“Well?” She whispered, her voice edging with the thrill of it, “Do you like it?”

“Oh no.” I sobbed, wracked with spasms.

Yavara lifted my head, connected our gazes. Some of the mania had left her eyes, and I saw in them a familiar compassion. “Elena, you don’t like it?”

“No,” I said, my voice possessed, sounding like it was coming from someone else, “I love it.”

Yavara grinned evilly at me, that implacable glint returning to her eyes. She brought my face to hers in a sudden kiss, and she devoured my mouth as though trying to taste the extent of my violation on the buds of my tongue. I returned the kiss with wide eyes, lost in my duality of hedonism and panic, teetering on the edge. Could I succumb fully to the lecherous creature as she had? Could I discard my morals, my ideals, my very conscience just to taste the sweetest, deadliest fruit? No. No, I was not made like her. But she could change me. She could mold me into this dark jewel of her dark kingdom, this whore of whores, this demon of lust without limits or mercy. I would become that for her. Only for her.

Yavara broke the kiss, her breath shallow and heated, her wild eyes traversing my face. She suddenly seized my arms, and spun me about the axis of Brock’s cock. I screamed, feeling every bump and vein of him digging against my twisting rectum until I was resting on my back, staring up at him. “Look at yourself.” Yavara whispered in my ear, her lips touching the point. She grappled with my arms until they were forced behind my head, pushing my face forward, “Watch what he does to you. Watch yourself become his filthy anal slut.”

I stared with dumbstruck eyes at the bulge in my abdomen. It didn’t seem anatomically possible, but there it was, bahis siteleri the distention of my guts forced against my abdominal wall by the full invasion of the orc. He grinned at me, pleased with the way he looked inside me, and he slowly withdrew. The pressure released in my nethers, the relief within a palpable sensation, but it was nothing, nothing compared to the sudden surge of vacancy, the need to be filled once again! Oh god, I’d been ruined! Even as I gasped with the pleasure of relief, I mewled for him to enter me once again, to destroy my body from within. I felt my sphincter close behind his exit, felt acutely the heat of him dissipating inside me, the absence of his cock ravaging my filthy innards.

“Brock, put it back in!” I cried, shifting my hips in a feminine samba that was both foreign and completely natural to me, this dance of weakness, an invitation to be ravaged.

“You’re going to have to beg harder than that.” Yavara tittered, her arms keeping my head locked, forcing me to look at Brock’s cock as he laid it across my belly. I could smell it from here, the miasma of my own asshole, the pungent stink of his cum. My mouth watered.

“Master?” A little voice inquired. It was Opal, staring down at me with shock writ across her face. The others came soon after, forming a circle around me, baring witness to my debasement.

“Beg for it, you cunt.” Yavara hissed in my ear, her voice wanton and shaking, her breasts pillowing my head, “Beg for it in front of all your little pets. Show them what a depraved faggot whore their master really is.”

I could see my slaves’ perception of me changing in their eyes, the image I’d meticulously cultivated crumbling. I was helpless, weak and blubbering, displayed before them like a tapestry of abasement. Why did the humiliation arouse me more? Oh, why did I seek to delve even lower?! I couldn’t help myself. My body tingled with the thrill of them baring witness, their shocked expressions, their hands covering their mouths.

“Please!” I cried, squirming in Yavara’s arms, “Fuck my slutty asshole! Oh god, turn me into your toy! I’ll be a good faggot whore, I promise!”

“Master!” My slaves cried in congruence. I just smiled meekly at them, defeated and ashamed, and aroused all the more because of it. Brock split me with his cock, driving so hard my body lurched with our impact. My soft flesh rippled, my breasts slapped my chest, my legs splayed wide to take him all the way. He pulsed in my deepest reaches, opening my inner resistances and violating the chamber therein. I screamed in ecstasy, tears filming my eyes, my body succumbing to the lassitude of my newfound feminine heterosexuality, my male homosexuality, the receiver, the bottom, the whore. Yavara kept my face pitched forward, making me watch as Brock fucked me with accelerating drives, my belly deforming with his entrance, by body becoming his, belonging to him! Oh, god take me! I cried out again and again, calling his name, thanking him with blubbering lips as he filled me like the vessel I was, nothing but the receptacle for his cock. He parted my tender innards with brutal efficiency, flattening my walls against my insides, torturing the nerves with each wonderful pass. My cock bounced unattended against my crotch, filled by the relentless stimulus of my prostate, leaking and spurting with each drive as though his penetration milked me of my seed. It ached in its fullness, the flesh singing to be caressed.

“Don’t touch her!” Yavara snarled when Opal sought to relieve the pressure in my valve. The succubus backed off, looking worriedly at me. Yavara stroked my hair as I mewled and sputtered for reprieve, my words unintelligible, lost in my screams of ecstasy. “This little faggot whore doesn’t deserve to be touched; no, no, no. You’re going to come from your faggot pussy like the twink-slut you are, and then you’re going to thank Brock for raping your shithole!”

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” I cried, lost in the torrent of my pleasure, my pain and humiliation. Oh, how I bathed in it, squirming in the splendor of depravity, becoming fully the faggot whore, the pathetic slut unworthy of being touched like a man. Only a hole to be filled, and filled violently! My screams fluctuated to the fervent rhythm of our colliding bodies, rising in pitch as the sensations churned within my depths. My cock bounced off my crotch, strings of cum snapping from the sticky surface, the tip spurting white froth every time Brock punched into my deepest parts. I pressed my heels into the floor to pivot against the rising orgasm, but Brock snatched my ankles and spread them wide in the air, bending my body inwardly, giving him unfettered access to my ruined shithole. He sneered in my face, his breath hot and full of stink, his animalistic grimace full of possession. Possession of me, for I was his, his in totality! My eyes topped my whites, staring at him awestruck with mouth agape as I choked on ecstasy too great to sound. My cock slapped against my belly, my asshole clenched and pulsed, my prostate convulsed against the relentless abuse, the pressure building, building, building, oh god! I exploded, my body seeming to burst from within, the surge of euphoria taking me until I was sobbing freely. With every pump of Brock’s penetrating cock, my own pathetic rod pumped the contents of my prostate onto me, spurting my clenching belly, my flailing breasts, my gasping mouth. With a sudden roar, Brock surged forward, nearly folding me in half, and with my ruined pelvic floor facing the ceiling, and his cock buried to the base in my ass, he came inside me.


I’d never seen anything as beautiful as Elena Straltaira covered in her own seed. Her pelvis was elevated above her, her cock weakly spurting the last of her milk into the folded creases of bronze fat that ribbed her compressed belly. I’d never seen anything as beautiful as the sight of Brock slowly pulling out his cock, the pink sheath of Elena’s ruined anus clinging to him like a fleshy condom, then releasing to bunch around her exit in a coiled flower, leaking a thick stream of nectar between her thighs that ran in rivulets down her belly to comingle with her own seed. And I’d never seen anything as beautiful as the look she gave me. That realization in her sapphire depths, that trembling pout of her lip as she tried to form words, but could not.

“Now you understand.” I whispered lovingly, running my fingers through her matted hair, “You’re like me, Elena.”

“Yes.” Elena mouthed, her bulging eyes trembling.

I looked at Brock, who was stroking his still-hard cock, the dark length of it shining with Elena’s anal lust. Without prompting, my hermaphroditic lover elevated her pelvis, and whispered, “Fuck me.”

Brock gripped her muscular thighs, splayed them with her heels resting on his shoulder, and slowly took Elena’s final virginity. She whimpered in my lap, gritting her teeth against the pain. Her pussy wasn’t as malleable as her rectum, and though it was slickened with her desire, her body was forced to acclimate to Brock’s overbearing girth. She cried out and thrashed, and I steadied her with my hands on her shoulders, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. Her slaves knelt around us, gawking at the display of their master so humbled, so vulnerable.

“You can do it, Master!” Opal encouraged, taking one of her hands.

“Just a little more!” Ruby nodded, taking the other.

Elena gripped their hands with white-knuckled intensity as she struggled with the last few inches of Brock, her thighs quivering, her heels kicking. She whined and sputtered, then went silent with a gasp. Brock’s crotch pressed to hers; he was all the way in. Elena’s head dropped in my lap, all strength washing from her. Her eyes remained unfocused for a moment, then clarified. She smiled weakly up at me.

“I guess I’m officially a woman now.”

“You sure took a round-about way of getting there.” I sniggered.

Elena’s eyes twinkled with something wild. “Ass to cunt is the only way a faggot whore like me can be deflowered.” Then she grabbed me, spinning in an athletic twirl, tumbling until she was atop me. She squealed as she stirred herself around Brock’s girth, and needed to catch her breath against my breast. The she looked up at me with that wild glimmer in her sapphire eyes, her white hair in frayed disheveled strands before her ravenous expression. “You called me some very mean names, Your Highness.”

I grinned back. “I only told you the unfettered truth.” Brushing her hair aside, I whispered, “You faggot whore.”

Brock thrusted into Elena, and Elena thrusted into me. We cried out, our joined bodies sticky with the hot nectar between our squishing bellies and breasts, sullying our flesh as we sullied our insides. Elena’s penetrating drives were propelled by the orc behind her, blasting her crotch against mine, burying herself to the hilt in my depths. She was smiling as she was fucked, the darkness pervading her demeanor, the avarice and pitiless expression growing across her face. As we rocked to the fervent rhythm of Brock’s thrusts, Elena began to take control of me. Her hand snaked up my chest, up my neck, and wrapped around my throat. Her other hand found the back of my head, and she wrenched it back with a grip hair, choking me with the other. I squealed, the sound sputtering from me as Elena’s grip tightened, the pleasure within rising and crashing in cascades, each one greater than the last.

“You did this to me!” Elena snarled. My vision was inverted, my crown pressed to the floor, my back arching to press my body deeper into Elena’s.

“Yes!” I screamed, reveling in her savagery, “I raped you! I mutilated you and transformed you!”

Her grip tightened, the airways blocking. I couldn’t breathe, the pressure in my face was mounting, my eyes were bulging. And with the growing agony in my starving chest, the ecstasy in my nethers rose, the violent piercing of my insides from the one I loved, ravaging me with her animalistic rage. We were beasts, nothing more. I drove my heels into the ground, elevating my pelvis so that she could ruin me more, her cock churning my tender insides into a mess of visceral sensations, tendrils of electric pain and pleasure coursing through me.

“I hate you. I love you.” Elena’s breath was in my nostrils, her expression heated and warped, “You took everything from me. You gave me everything.”

“I know!” I choked out, “I never gave you a choice! I took what I wanted!”

“Now I will take what I want.” Elena’s eyes were crazed, her breaths short, her face flushed. She licked my face from chin to eye, marking me as hers, her possession, her thing to enjoy and discard. I wilted beneath it, succumbing so easily to her prowess, this wicked side of her that I had awakened, that I loved so much.

“Take me! I’m yours!” I squealed, awash in the sensations roiling in my depths. Brock turned us over, our hair flailing, our bodies grappling for purchase. We were straddled atop him a second later, heaving up and down to the fervent pace of his thrusts, Elena absorbing every inch of his lust deep within her, and giving it to me with all the hatred and love she could. I gripped her ass and spread it wide, and felt Elena surge against me when Brock pushed three fingers into gaping hole. She loosed my throat only to retaliate with her fist, burying herself to the wrist in my favorite spot, the fleshy cuff closing around her forearm, pulsing to suck her deeper into my tender filthy depths. Our mouths connected in a voracious devouring, snarls and growls filtering from the joining of lips and tongues, our bodies trying to merge. Her knuckles pressed against her cock from the wrong side, and the thin strand of sanity that held me snapped. I drifted in a pink haze of ecstasy with her, my love, ascending in a crescendo of sensation, ravaging each other with all the passion our mania could bring. We cried out, our voices high and robbed of breath, our eyes staring into each other, tasting the ecstasy of the other as I melded our minds. We came as one like that, joined truly as equals. For my dark jewel was every-bit the depraved slut I was. I could taste it on her.


Prestira came slinking over to me, her alabaster flesh covered in suction welts, her hair a disheveled mess of ringlets.

“You’ve been abandoned.” I mused, looking at the ring of succubi around Elena, Yavara and Brock.

Prestira smiled ruefully, and collapsed exhaustedly in the chair beside me. “As have you, dearest love. Enjoying yourself?”

I glanced down at the cock in my hand, lying flaccid and limp, already spent. “It seems I can’t even do that anymore.”

“That happens when you get old.” Prestira sighed, transforming back into herself, “Even if we’re ageless, the soul still feels the years.” She looked over at Trenok, Certiok and Patricia, who were in a writhing pile atop the table, “The young don’t know how good they have it.”

“We used to go at it for hours.” I said, pulling her into my embrace, “Now I’ve only got one shot, and it’s been fired.”

“Hmm.” Prestira hummed in my shoulder, planting a kiss there, “Maybe you just need to change weapons then. Destiny has quite a few arrows in her quiver.”

“I wouldn’t want to traumatize our resident orc chieftain.” I chuckled, gesturing to Brock, who looked like he was trying to drive both Elena and Yavara through the floor.

Prestira laughed with me. “If he’s fucking Elena, I don’t think he’ll be too worried about you.”

“Maybe I just don’t want him to know I sucked his cock. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Prestira’s mouth was on my ear then, her tongue tickling my lobe. “I’ll let you do that thing to me. You know what I’m talking about.”

I turned to her, my brows raised. “You serious?”

She nodded, biting her lip, her white eyes glinting with excitement. “But only if Destiny does it. C’mon, Honey; let’s show these whippersnappers how it’s done.”


My nipples were painfully stiff, engorged with my arousal, leaking milk. I parted from Prestira’s kiss with a gasp, pressing my body to her, my hands gripping her modest glutes as I hoisted her onto the table.

“Do it.” She whispered on my lips. I kissed her again, and as I did, my tongue changed in her mouth. It elongated and smoothed, the buds becoming sucking nodes, the tip becoming the point of a tentacle that slithered down her throat. She gasped, taken aback by the sudden invasion, but she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t if she wanted to. My fingers transformed, becoming pink and boneless, a squishing texture of elongated tendrils studded with hundreds of sucking rings at the bottom. The tentacles snaked around Prestira, wrapping her belly, encircling and squeezing her breasts, slithering wetly around her ankles, knees, and thighs, pulling her body into a vertical spread-eagle, then moving between her legs. I felt her scream of horror and delight vibrate around the tentacle in her throat, and I smiled open-mouthed at her, massaging her esophagus with my new tongue. Then, staring into her wide quivering eyes, I poised the tips of six tentacles to her holes, and entered her.

Her arms flung outward, her shoulder pinched, her head tilted to the ceiling to exalt a soundless cry, muffled by the wriggling member that violated her throat. Three tentacles entered her anus, and three entered her pussy, sliding slickly together, expanding her gradually with their increasing girths. Her anal rim tightened around the pliant limbs, the undersides of the tentacles turned outward so that the suckers slid along her clinging exit, torturing her nerves with the squelching notched surface. Her nether-lips gripped the corkscrewing members as they explored her erogenous depths, the tentacular suckers running against her clit as they popped one by one inside her tightening sheath. Her anus became swollen with the relentless suction, her nether lips fattened and blushed, her clitoris engorging from its hood to feel the tender pits of each passing node. Filming my appendages was a lubricant that acted as a muscle relaxant, and so while Prestira was violated in a way she’d never known before, there was no pain for her. I wriggled inside her, corkscrewing deeper until I found the resistance of her cervix. I paused, then extended the curious point of one tentacle, and tickled her inner aperture. Prestira’s eyes flashed wide open, she shook her head frenetically, screamed something around the grotesque pink girth that slithered through her lips. I wrapped a tentacle around her neck, and stayed her head with a firm, but gentle constriction, stroking her cheek with the slimy tip. She relaxed, resigned to her fate, her white eyes wide in anticipation, beckoning me. I dilated her cervix with the prodding flicks of the tentacle, feeling the fleshy sphincter throb within her, then open. And there, watching her face widen in realization, I violated the last sanctity of Prestira Rasloraca. My tentacles surged into her womb, the suctioning rings tasting every surface of her insides, impregnating her in a pulsing spiral of slimy limbs. Her pelvis was distended with the fullness of it, the three tentacles coiled within, moving beneath the flesh. Her eyes rolled back, and a guttural primal sound emanated from around the gagging tentacle. Then her lips closed bahis şirketleri to suck the repulsive meat in her mouth, and she succumbed completely to the abhorrent lust I forced into her. With an evil grin, I pushed my anal tentacles past the resistance of her colon, and squirmed them into her bowels.

OH FUCK! Prestira’s thought burst into my mind. She wriggled in the air like a fish on a line, and I laughed manically, a girlish sound cascading from my lips in congruence with my ever-growing tongue. Deeper and deeper I went with each violating appendage, sliding through my lover’s insides like a serpentine worm, feeling her soft secrets, the delicate flesh therein. The erogenous receptors that swathed my tentacles were blazing with the sensations of her as I gently navigated through her sphincters, the imprint of my exploration corrupting the soft expanse of her belly. Then, the thin point of a tip emerged from Prestira’s mouth, and another emerged from her anus, wagging like a perverse tail. Prestira’s entire body went slack, paralyzed with the shock of sensation. She watched with disbelieving eyes as the tentacle that had emerged from her mouth swayed in the air, glistening and dripping. Her abdomen was deformed with the two slithering limbs, each pulsing with opposing oscillations. Prestira jerked once, then twice, then began to convulse. I squirmed my tentacles into her as she danced in orgasm, the suctioning nodes that undulated through her holes becoming sticky with her anal secretion and womanly sap. I tasted the nectarous flavor of her insides from mouth to anus, and slithered my impromptu tongue greedily through her, my eyes wild, my laugh manic as I saw her slack expression, glazed and stupefied by such heinous delights. The squelching of my penetration sounded over the gurgle of her mindless screams, each one rising higher, her body writhing in the air, her arms flailing, her back arching, her spread legs quivering and her toes curling back. She erupted like a fountain, spraying me with the hormone-rich urine of her release, her pelvis jutting, her crotch a mangled ruin of tentacular digits pulsating through her winking apertures.

When she’d finished, I eased her lovingly onto the table, stroking her face, gently evacuating her. She blinked away her ecstatic tears, and cupped my face. We didn’t need to say the words.

“What the fuck?!” A baritone voice tore through my revelry. I turned around to see everyone in the room gawking at me. It was Brock who had yelled it, and he stared with a slack jaw, the wheels in his mind turning.

Yavara broke the silence, squirming her way out from beneath Elena and racing across the room. “Me next!” She announced, solidifying the proclamation with an excited click of her heels.

“I would also like a turn.” Patricia said sultrily, dismounting from Trenok.

“As would I.” Certiok said, getting in line.

“And me.” Elena said, limping behind Certiok. Elena’s slaves lined up in an orderly row behind their master, each one of them grinning at me with near-childish excitement.

“And me.” A deep voice said behind me, a pair of strong hands descending on my shoulders, something wet and hard prodding my middle back. I looked behind to see Trenok looking over me, his tusked mouth curved in a predatory grin. Oh, did I swoon? I think I did. Then there was another set of hands on me, and another thing stabbing my belly, and I turned to see Brock grinning down. I shivered between them, my attention solely devoted on their throbbing tips moving against me, the press of their bodies, their hands descending to my breasts, my waist, hoisting me between them.

“Destiny, have you seen Zander anywhere?” Brock growled, his pulsing cock sliding down my belly, “I swore he was just here.”

“He just left; funny that.” I gasped, their tips centering on my anus and slit, threatening to impale me, “The two of us can never seem to be in the same place.”

“Not like Dad and me.” Trenok chuckled in my ear, “We’re about to be in exactly the same place. Take a deep breath, Destiny.”

They impaled me, their cocks bursting through my insides, opening me, squishing the membrane that separated me. I hit bottom with a jiggling slap, my knees hooked on their elbows near my breasts, my ass the lowest point, spread wide in the position to take them twelve-inches deep. The bolt of sensation surged up my spine, compelling my head to fling skyward, pushing into Trenok’s chest. Some women might’ve felt trapped between them, but I only felt like the meat of a man-sandwich, and my appetite was absolutely rapacious! I giggled at Brock, shimmied my hips in his hold, and extended my arms to my sides. Ten tentacles shot from my fingers, each of the branching into more tendrils, snaking on the floor, the ceiling, the walls, the tips seeking those wet, tight places. I’d done a lot of things in my time, but this… this would certainly be new.


Well, this was certainly new. I was in a writhing pile of women, our pressing bodies separated by the thick wet tentacles that roped us and entered us, carrying some airborne, pinning others to the wall. The firelight illuminated the debauchery in a hellish glow, every surface of the hut covered in slithering prehensile limbs, blocking the sunlight, leaving only the orange flame and the black shadows it cast. The faces of those around me were akin to demons, and it might have been terrifying if I didn’t count myself amongst the damned.

“Fuck me, you Ranger cunt, FUCK ME!” I snarled, my body joined with Elena’s, our motions violent and untamed. Two tentacles writhed in my ass, tenderly invading me deeper, those wonderful nodes serrating my insides with their wet suction.

“You she-orc slut!” Elena was breathing heatedly in my face, her hips undulating to the euphoria provided by Destiny’s penetrating tentacles, both her holes filled, her cock pumping into my cunt. Her sapphire eyes were crazed amethysts in the firelight, her grimace broad and wanton, spit leaking from her clenched teeth, splashing my lips. She pounded into me until I was bending backward in the bed of tentacles, calling her name, my thighs held wide apart by the wrap of squid limbs that spiraled my arms and legs. With a final heave, she came inside me, and I arched back in the carnal delight of it, feeling her hot seed pour into me. Then the tentacles pulled her into the darkness, her cry fading into the discordant drone of moans that filled the room.

“Certiok.” A voice whispered, behind me. Prestira. She glowed with power in the darkness, the tentacles seeming to obey her command. They meandered across her body with perverse sensuality, sliding between her legs, slithering up her torso, wrapping gently around her throat. She extended her arm, and like a pet snake, a tentacle undulated down the length of the proffered limb, stretched the distance between us, and slid between my legs. I moaned as I was carried to her from the inside, elevated from the ground, my legs splayed. I was stopped before her, presented like a prize pelt.

“You are a strong woman.” Prestira said, running gentle fingers along the contours of my abdomen, “I used to think I was a strong woman.” She smiled up at me, and it was a fractured grin. “Now I know better. I don’t know why, but I wish to see another strong woman broken.”

“What?! Prestira, I-” A tentacle burrowed down my throat, choking out my protest.

“Shh, dear.” Prestira smiled, “You’ll enjoy it. I’m not cruel.”

Maybe I had more to say, but I couldn’t find the words. My insides were so hot, so… empty! Crystal strolled beside me, her hand running down my back, trailing between my legs, the delicate fingers caressing the folds of my occupied slit. She stepped toward Prestira, and the witch put an arm around Elena’s matriarchal slave. Both their complexions were dotted with countless suction welts, and I realized that my own flesh had been so marred. It aroused me to see it like that. It aroused me to see the surrounding tentacles slither on the floor toward me, snaking up my legs, those nodes squelching upon my flesh. It aroused me to see that look in Prestira’s white eyes as my anus was pried open by two tentacles to make room for a girthier third. I wondered what kind of face I made for her, but I knew the sound. It was an escalating groan, my enslaved body relishing the torment, wanting only the perverse. My wish was answered when a unique tentacle undulated before me, its tip opening to reveal scores of writhing tendrils, like that of an anemone. It pushed into my slit to join the one already inside, those little wriggling tips electrifying my insides, caressing the entrance to my womb, invading it.

“Thank you!” I sobbed around the tentacle in my mouth.

Prestira cock her head, an odd smile creasing her lips. “You’re welcome.” Then she wrapped her arm around Crystal, and I was pulled into the darkness.

“Hello Certiok.” Patricia giggled, trapped against the wall. She was so coiled in tentacles that I couldn’t tell what was being done to her, but I could tell by the way she moved that it was heaven for her. I was carried past her, the tentacles within me slowly pushing deeper, my mind drifting in a tempest of pleasure. Psychedelic flashes caught my vision. Opal screaming on the ground, her anus prolapsed about a thick appendage, Onyx gently licking the outturned pink sheath of her sister, her own ebony body wrapped with tentacles, five of them wriggling fervently between her splayed cheeks. Diamond was pressed between Ruby and Sapphire, their supple bodies bathed in the orange light, squirming with inhuman fluidity, sharing mouths, pushing their tails into each other, spreading their legs to take the tentacles deeper. Prestira and Crystal were making love, their legs overlapped, their forms held aloft by the twisting appendages that entered them from below. Destiny was in the center of it all, her arms outstretched, branching in a hundred different ways to cover every surface of the hut in her cephalopod limbs. Trenok and Brock pressed her between them, fucking her with a violence I didn’t know she could take. Her sapphire hair flailed, her diamond-speckled flesh glittered, her breasts jiggled to the fervent rhythm of the orcs. Her gaze was connected heatedly with Brock’s, her lips snarling, baring teeth in an animalistic display of lust. The elegant length of her neck was striated with tension, her golden flesh was flushed, the sweat glistened from her. She was close. She flung her head back, her turquois lips parted, her cries sounding over it all. Her eyes were blazing orange. Everyone’s were.

The Dark Queen sat cross-legged on a throne of tentacles, her fluids dripping freely beneath her, her eyes glowing with power, a megalomaniacal smile curving her lush lips. She looked at me, and winked. The tentacles surged with new life, moving in a wriggling blur of motion, burrowing inside me, inside all of us! I was taken by the shock of it, the ratcheting corkscrew of slick sucking tendrils pushing through my innards, electrifying every surface of places that should never have known the touch of another. Oh god, oh god, oh god! My mind was not my own. I felt sensations from twelve different bodies, different minds. The way a pussy clenched around my cock, the smooth bore of an asshole clinging to my shaft, the taste of my sister’s outturned rectum, the surge of blood from my sucking fangs, the writhing, wriggling, squirming invasion of tentacles in holes, traversing through violated bodies, all dancing to one debauched rhythm.

And there was Elena Straltaira, walking through it all, her blue eyes twinkling in the firelight, a procession of Destiny’s limbs behind her. Yavara extended her hand with a smile, and Elena took it, and her blue eyes turned orange. They embraced in a kiss atop Yavara’s throne, the procession of tentacles snaking up their bodies, wrapping them together, entering them. I felt a pleasant pressure my chest, then my throat, and before my eyes, a thin wriggling appendage slithered from my mouth, and caressed my lips. The blood beat in my ears, the air was hot and oppressive, and everything was soft and wet, the nectarous tang of sex in my mouth. I didn’t know when I lost my mind. I only remember laughing when it happened.


It was dark, the fire was dead, and the sounds of snores echoed through the room. I laid atop Brock’s heaving chest, and Elena laid atop me, her half-hard cock nestled comfortable in my pussy, right where it belonged. Our flesh was pocked with suction marks, our hair was matted and stiff, our holes were yawning and swollen, and I’d never felt so satisfied in my entire life.

“I’m so glad you shared this moment with me.” I said, kissing her forehead, “It was like watching you blossom into a slutty flower.”

Elena smiled weakly. “You’re so fucked up.”

I wrinkled my nose at her. “So are you, my dark jewel.” I ran my hand along her sticky belly, collected a dollop of mixed semen on my finger, and brought it to her lips. She stared into my eyes as she sucked it off my finger, and I was reminded vividly of the first time she’d shown her sexual nature, coyly sucking my finger in Prestira’s bed. “You’ve come so far.” I laughed aloud.

“I’ve fallen so far.” Elena grinned ruefully.

“It’s so much better down here with the degenerates.” I grinned wickedly back, and saw in her sapphire gaze a trace of fear comingled with excitement. Off the reflection of her lenses, I saw me, an expression of pitiless avarice on my face. It gave me pause, but only for a moment. I brushed the matted strands of white hair from Elena’s glistening forehead, and framed her face in my hands. “You are a depraved faggot whore who knows no depths, who will do anything and everything just to feel that thrill. You’ve had a taste now; you can’t go back now.”

I felt Elena shiver under the degradation of my words, saw her eyes widen with love when I said them. For I’d said them with the greatest empathy and affection I could, labeling her the abhorrent thing, my dark jewel, my greatest treasure. “Why are we like this?” She whispered.

“Why does it matter?” I smiled affectionately, “We’ve been given these lecherous gifts to enjoy, not to question.”

“It scares me.” Elena whispered, “I see what you are, and I see what I’m becoming, and I know it will take us to very dark places.” She took my hand in hers, “If you Indulge without limitations, always seeking the extreme, when does it end?”

“I don’t know.”

Elena caressed my face, her sapphire eyes studying me. “It’s darkened you, Yavara. You were never wholly good, but I never before saw evil in you.”

“You think I’m evil?” I smiled at her, slightly aroused by the idea.

Elena smiled back. “Only a little.” She touched my lip, “A benign evil, one reserved for these debauched delights we engage in.” Her smile faded, “But it can spread.”

I took her hand, and pressed it firmly against my cheek. “You’ll always keep me centered, no matter how far you fall. You are my dark jewel, and my light.”

“That’s a lot to put on me.”

“But you can take it.”

Elena shook her head against my breast, laughing. “I can take a lot more than I thought I could.”

“You’re a deep little girl, aren’t you?” I sniggered.

“Not nearly as deep as you.” Elena grinned, pushing her cock further into me.

I had to close my eyes and breathe through my nose to keep from pouncing on her and riding her until daylight broke. I needed to sleep. Tomorrow, Elena would go to the Spruces to petition the support of the nymphs, and I would begin the exodus of the Terdini and Protaki to Alkandra. Brock would protest when I told him, but he would obey. This land of his ancestors was too close to Castle Thorum, but that wasn’t the only reason I would make them leave. The orcs were too tied to their tribalistic nature, and would never become fully unified until they cast away the past. I would never let the Terdini return to the Gorge. They would mate with other tribes, and those old heralded bloodlines would mingle and dilute, and the Terdini would become extinct in a generation. My new kingdom would not be a federation of tribes. But that was all in the future, and my focus needed to be on the immediate. Against Zander’s objection, I had decided to meet with the Ten while on route to Alkandra. I did not have time to prepare endlessly while Leveria amassed her army. The conditions would never be perfect; risks would have to be taken. The Ten would respect my boldness, I knew. If they didn’t, perhaps a horrific display of telekinetic strength would put them in line. No, no; that’s what a tyrant would do, and you’re no tyrant, Yavara. I looked at Elena, and remembered the fear I’d seen in her eyes. I’d seen that same fear in Prestira’s eyes when I’d contemplated killing Patricia and her friends. Had I always been so callous, or had I darkened like Elena said? I didn’t know. Perhaps the conditions for such evil had simply never arisen before.

“What happened to Prestira?” Elena whispered, breaking my train of thought.

“Horrible things.” I answered, pulling Elena close.

She looked at me, studying my face. “You saw Leveria, didn’t you?”

“How did you know?”

“I saw it in your head when we were joined.” Elena smiled affectionately, “You’re not like her you know; you can quit worrying.”

“I’m not worrying.” I lied with a smile, and rolled into her arms, closing my eyes. I had terrible dreams that night.

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