Note: I’m back in fantasy, my favorite genre! This new series will (again) be a longer term series, plenty of story, lots of kinky smut, and casual hypersexuality which I always enjoy. Be prepared for non sexual chapters. As normal, expect thiccness and massive dicks, as well as a hot harem 😉
*
The story began on a simple summer evening. The night sky had descended onto the kingdom like a shadowy curtain, yet the uncomfortable heat was relentlessly causing people to have a glaze of shining sweat across their brows.
The town of Framton was a rather small, yet dense community of humans. Bakers, butchers and sweet makers were the common profession, and they were always named the best across the southern dominances across the kingdom. In this town was an inn called The Kneeling Kneader. Like Framton, it was small but could pack more than most inns, and like most nights the tavern area was bustling with those who were coated with ingredients and stank of their respective professions.
The grizzled young man sat in the corner of the inn, as the job he received ordered him to. On the opposite side of him, sandwiching the small circular table which the man had made his home on, was one other seat.
His bright hazel eyes cut through the shroud which his hood created over his handsome features, he was observing. From left to right he darted quickly from patron to patron, some drunk, others high on some kind of recreational drug that spread around town. He noticed some drinkers, men in particular, watched him with scepticism. The young man assumed they saw him as a trespasser, or perhaps a danger to their daughters innocences given his light leather plated armor and longsword that rested beside him at all times made him seem mysterious, and rugged.
Or perhaps they were looks of jealousy. The young man noticed the frequent waitresses clad in their loose uniforms pass over him, trying to strike up conversation; any kind of meaningless topic which the man needn’t bother himself with. Still, some of them were pretty; the one with the dusty blonde hair tied into a braid looked like one of those women who would be an animal in bed. In his experiences, the ones that looked from afar and kept quiet were always the most eager to give pleasure, and the most thankful to receive it.
A warm bead of sweat pushed its way down the man’s forehead, tickling his sun kissed skin on its journey from the pores of his temple down toward the time grown stubble he wore. It was a sign to drink. With a hard sigh the man grasped his large pint glass of iced water and took a long gulp, taking in a small shaving of ice between his lips to cool the insides of his cheeks. He spat it out back into the condensated glass once the chill had worked its magic.
“Late.” he muttered to himself as the hustle and bustle of the night’s festivities began to enter the rowdy stage of drunkenness. The job request specifically instructed to meet at the Kneeling Kneader when the moon had met its highest point; yet here the man was, alone, thinking about the cute blonde who smiled at him again, rather than the client he was set to meet.
The job paper was laid out in front of him beside the pint glass. A simple job. Escort duty. Work he hated. His forte was monster hunting, merc work, security for weddings and the like. This was far away from any sort of job he would usually do.
Yet he felt drawn to the job, there was a mystery to it all. It wasn’t often he had that feeling; but every time he did, the young man always walked away better off. That meant he had to take it. But he disliked late comers, to him, it meant the client really wasn’t in desperate need, otherwise they would be around early. He eventually met an ultimatum, by the end of the glass, if his client, this ‘Trysh’ had not appeared, then he would move to that braided blonde and finally answer the question across the back of his mind: Would she spit or swallow?
A short time passed before the hooded figure slipped into the inn quietly, like a cat through an open window. The figure was short, no taller than five foot four. Which, to the young man, meant his client was either a feminine male with a girly name, or a woman. Wrapped tightly around her was a deep green cloak that she tugged at to surround whatever she was wearing underneath.
It was hard to make out her features, the hood that she kept over her head ensured that, but there were still some things of note which the man kept in his mind. The first being how the hood opened out around the ears, like something long poked at the sides of the rough looking fabric. The eyes were second, as even from across the flame lit inn he could see how they glowed with a brilliant sapphire blue.
Those same eyes darted across every space they could find. Until they met his. A small nod from him was the only signal she needed to approach with quick steps, her cloak and the slithers of pure white underneath the covering dragged and dusted against the floor until she stood over the table. She sat, shifting the seat forward and assumed perfect posture, hands flat against her lap as she gave a quick look over the man.
“Hello. Aro I hope? Apologies to keep you waiting. I ran into some trouble at the markets earlier and needed to meditate a little. Have you been waiting long? Do you think you can escort me tonight? I have been spending far too much time in Framton and I would like to see the back of it…” She shifted with discomfort, which allowed a slither of bleached blonde hair to escape the hood and dangle down over one brilliant sapphire eye.
She spoke quickly, tones sweet as sugar and soft as honey. She almost sounded frantic to Aro, nervous too. He noticed how she would only look into his hazel eyes for mere seconds before falling away and blushing under her darkened hood.
Aro hummed softly, giving one last look to the dusty blonde before removing his own hood to formally engage with the meeting. “I am he. And you are Trysh?”
“Trysh’alia. My friends call me Trysh.”
Aro took a deep sip of water and swallowed it down, gasping with a relieved sigh before softly placing it back onto the smooth, varnished table. “Ok then Trysh. Before we go any further, get rid of the hood. This place is full of people with nothing to hide. So trying to hide yourself only makes you look like you’re hiding something.”
He pointed at the hood, and gave a small gesture around the room that had started to look at his hooded friend rather than him. Even the waitresses moved their attention to his client; something which only slightly disgruntled him.
“Before I go anywhere with you.” He started. “I need to know some things. A destination would be ideal, and what sort of danger follows an Elf so badly that she asks someone like me to help?”
Right away Aro saw how the hooded woman changed her expression. He had seen it before, irritation which was being hidden behind pursed lips, and slightly flared nostrils. She briefly glanced over both shoulders, seeing how their table was being watched from the corners of patrons eyes, she sighed and dropped the hood over her shoulders.
Her smooth, pale skin and her delicate elven features was the first thing Aro fixed his hazel eyes on. Her bleach blonde hair was tucked under her cloak, and also behind her long pointed ears which were adorned with numerous silver rings and clasps that ran up the undersides of each knifed ear. She was pretty, beautiful even…In fact, the longer Aro looked into her the more he felt his entire being relax. He had always liked elves, as did most men. Elves were the walking goddesses of the kingdom, and seeing Trysh before him only proved the idea to be true.
She closed her large blue doe eyes tiredly, then looked up into his as their gazes met. Seconds passed with silence between them. Her cheeks grew a hint of red as her frustrated look subsided, now her full, puffy lips pouted out contently as she softly cleared her throat.
“Yes….Right…Urm…” She started, shaking her head softly that caused her shimmering blonde hair to wiggle with her, the clink of her jewelry sounding softly through the small space between them.
“I am Trysh, as I have said before. I need someone to act as an escort, or bodyguard. I need to be taken to the small town of Riverrun just beyond the forest…” She shifted in herself on the wooden chair and made for the small metal clasps of her cloak. underneath the rough green fabric was an extremely baggy white robe, untarnished by dirt or sweat. Silver markings ran over it, weaving elegant elvish decals.
*Some kind of priestess robes?* Aro thought.
“Seeing as you knew I was an Elf, I guess it’s important to tell you that I am-was a priestess of Vernande. Elven goddess of celibacy and abstinence.” She let out a deep breath after talking, like it was hard for her to give out the information.
Her voice distracted Aro, in the best way possible. It was alluring, and beautiful at the same time; just looking at her godlike features and hearing her talk drove a great passion within his soul to protect her. He would accept the task even if it meant hurting an innocent, his growing need to be her guardian grew within him at an alarming rate.
“The forest is dangerous for anElf. Not just the maze of roads and the moving paths, if the trees don’t like your aura you could get lost in there forever…Not to mention the Feral Orcs and bandits that live there.” the young man said cooly, taking a large gulp of the iced water and slamming it down with a thud.
“It is likely we will run into more than just Orcs and vile men. Without getting into details, soldiers of Vernande’s temple are looking for me, all across the kingdom. So I am placing a great deal of trust in you to…you know…Guard me.” She darted her eyes to and from Aro, every time he noticed her cheeks flush deeper than they would the last time she looked at him. “I need to get as far away from the temple as fast as possible, you’re free to leave me at Riverrun if you please…Or continue on with me as long as you’re headed in the right direction…”
Aro nodded and smiled that devilishly handsome smile at her. “I accept. It just so happens that I am headed for Riverrun too. I have some business with a…Friend of mine.” He reached his hand forward and delicately let it hang there. The hard and rough skin of his palm greatly differed from Trysh’s incredibly delicate and smooth skin. “My only rule is I get half the pay now and half once we pass the gates of Riverrun.” He nodded his head toward the outstretched hand and Trysh exhaled through her nose heavily.
She of course met men like Aro before. Men who always looked upon her with unbridled lust, always trying to crop a feel of what lies underneath her incredibly baggy robes. But at least to her Aro was handsome…Incredibly so…So much so that she felt a little pride within herself that she had caught his attention rather than the women who clearly were interested in him.
*He is what the girls of the temple would call a ‘Womanizer’ always chasing skirts and getting under them…Why am I thinking of this? I am a devoted follower of the patron of purity.* She bottled her thoughts down deep within her and nodded with agreement.
“Of course. Half now and half later is a standard for you adventuring types I have been told.” The Elf reached into her cloak and produced a small leather pouch of coins which she delicately placed onto Aro’s open palm. Her hand lingered on his for a moment, longer than necessary. She felt the hard calluses and the roughness of his hand on hers…She hated that she thought the feeling was nice, hated that the quick thought of how his rough hands would feel on her delicate naked body plagued her mind for just a second. With a delayed jump she pulled her hand back, dragging against his as she placed it back onto her lap.
*Goddess I knew I should not have overhealed that cursed boy in the market. I must be strong, Vernande will never forgive me if I betrayed her teachings by thinking with such lewdity.*
“So, you know who I am now. Tell me, who are you exactly? Who’s this person you’re meeting in River Run? Your… friend?” Trysh could not stop the burning of her cheeks, yet acted casually despite how hot and bothered she had started to become.
Aro lifted the weight of the small bag up and down his palm. The density was accurate, yet now all he wanted to feel was her hand on his again. The hormonal young man in his early twenties had felt slightly guilty in having the flippant thought of what she looked like under those thick robes. It was natural, any man would think the same when it came to elves. They were perfection when it came to physical beauty; most men would have probably let her travel with them for free, if she batted those pretty eyes and gave an innocent pout, with the added action of pushing her chest up with her arm, all Elves were busty, Aro knew that even with her robed that she too had bosoms the size of watermelons…
“No one to worry about. My blacksmith. A few weeks back I left my sword with her to be fixed after a bad job.” Aro intentionally left out the part where he walked out on her in the middle of the night while she slept naked beside him in her bed. Aro looked over to the bland steel blade that rested against the table beside him. He frowned at the mere sight of it, not only was it ugly, but it was too light, at times he felt like he was swinging a stick instead of a dangerous tool of death. “On my honor as a man, she will do you no harm.”
His explanation was met with a look of skepticism from his client. Her thin black brows crunched ever so slightly and she parted her pouty lips to talk only to pause, and shake her head. It seemed they both had parts of their stories which they did not want to share with one another. Aro sat back and confidently looked into her deep blue eyes.
Trysh folded in the short staring contest first, timidly tugging on a loose strand of her bleached blonde hair as those feelings began to flare up inside of her again. She had instantly fallen into a reassured state of relaxation when she started to talk to Aro; like she knew everything was going to go well. She stood, slowly.
“Well…Sir. I do hope this does not become another job gone wrong. For both of our sakes.” She tried giving him a stern, authoritative look, but the persistent redness of her cheeks ruined her weak facade. Yet again images of a highly sexual nature appeared vividly in her mind. Her hair tied back into a tight, high ponytail. Wearing nothing but a simple blacksmith’s apron; tending to Aro’s ‘sword’ whilst she squatted on her feet, down between his legs. She spun on her toes that made her cloak flare out with a rippling sound of fabric. Shaking her head again to disperse her fantasies she spoke up with a quiver in her melodic voice.
“I wished to set out tonight, but I am sure you would like to rest before we take our leave of Framton…I know I would like a few hours to meditate on Vernande’s teachings. Meet you at the town gates by sunrise?” She offered her hand and looked at him with a content smile. In truth she wanted to stimulate her feelings she had suddenly begun to feel by getting another chance to hold his rough, manly hand.
Aro stood and moved over close to Trysh, the height difference significant. She would need to get onto the tips of her toes to even get at an equal eye level to him. Aro shook Tryshs’ hand firmly. Even with a pretty Elf he did not want to show any form of weakness; he had made that mistake before and was met with a knife in his belly.
“Gates at sunrise, perfect. What room are you staying in? I’ll be happy to check up on you every hour if you worry about anything…” His hand lingered on the delicate Elf, instinctively his thumb softly rubbed over her hand, like one would pet a small kitten.
Trysh swooned slightly, but quickly came back to her senses and quickly snatched her hand back and clutched it at her chest. “N-no that’s quite alright, I want you well rested. I know that you humans tend to need a little more sleep than my kind.”
Aro let his arm drop and nodded, scratching his stubble with embarrassment. In his youth, as with other human males when they reached puberty, had been told a simple rule when it came to Daughters of Vernande: Priestesses were never to be touched in more than a formal way. Doing so meant death. For both parties. The religion the Elves followed showed no mercy when it came to intimacies with men and women. Still, Aro still imagined what Trysh looked like under her baggy robes. If Elven prostitutes were anything to go by, she was built for pleasure.
“I’ll let you take your leave then. Have a good rest Trysh.” Aro gave a polite bow, as one should toward a priestess, and retreated back to his seat. The Elf replied a cute curtsey and left the area, moving toward the winding wooden stairs that lead to the rented rooms. Aro’s eyes lingered on her, she stood out like a sore thumb, her white skin glowed with radiance, as did her silky blonde hair. She gave one last look at him with a polite smile before moving into a vacant room.
As the door shut behind her Trysh’alia sighed and pressed her back against the splintering wooden door. The room itself was small, and stank of old dust and grime. But after staying there for a few days she had become accustomed to it, in a way it was nice; the temple dorms were always so…sterile, and clean. Too clean.
Stepping forward, with her snub nosed white heels tapping along the creaky old wood she rose one hand up and snapped her fingers. Immediately the cloak fell from her, and hung up in the air, floating. Her robes had begun to unwrap themselves over her. Slowly her body revealed itself to the empty bedroom. With her cheeks still flushed a rose red with thoughts of her new companion, She looked down as her holy garment floated in the air beside the green cloak. The fabric shifted and spun, churning like a white cloud. The elf stepped out of her heels and ran her hands over her godlike body.
Like every other Elf, she was shaped incredibly. Legs long, thighs thick and naturally toned. Her ass large and soft to the touch. It bounced and swayed as she walked, and her silky blonde hair ticked her cheeks with its impressive length. Her hips were wide, perfect for birthing children, and usually swayed them with any kind of step; the natural way any modern Elf walked. Up her tightly muscled tummy were the bumps and curves of her skin wrapping around the soft muscle tissue that made it look like she regularly kept up with her physical fitness, even though she had never worked out a day in her life.
It was the same with the rest of her, with a tight back and toned arms, she looked perfect. Not ripped, and soft in all the right places. Her bust was large and also soft, yet retained the perkiness any man would desire. Her old friends at the temple measured her bust once, said she was something called a 36L, whatever that meant, all she knew was even for an Elf she was one stacked piece of ass.
Underneath her holy garment that had now magically twisted into a pink silk nightgown, she wore only a thin pair of black panties. Bras were alien to her, in fact, it was only within the last few months she had even learned of their existence. She found them very uncomfortable.
Trysh extended her tightly muscled arms back and allowed the pink silk evening gown to float over to her and wrap around her loosely. With a hot breath she walked to the bed, feeling the extremely pleasurable tingles her crotch sent through her. Her panties were soaked through, sticky, hot juice ran down her thick thighs and soiled her underwear so much a heavy dark patch spread across the entire front. A total mess of horny and lust for any half decent looking man, but yet her mind lingered on those rough hands, and handsome face. “Goddess Vernande give me strength to block these corrupting thoughts.” she said with a plea.
The radiant Elf knew that she worked her healing magic too hard when that child began speaking the tongues, the language of the devil and his evil cohort of demons. Healing magic was a unique power for the Elven people, yet it always came with the cost of extreme arousal. Even a simple sealing of a cut would send hard quivers up her loins, and cause a leakage between her virgin folds, the more she used the harder the temptation to pleasure herself became relentless; to the point where every step she took sent stimulating shivers down her creamy thighs.
Trysh wrapped the small silk rope around her and tightened it over her thin waist, causing her gown to become tight and form fitting. There was a deep V that ran down all the way to her pelvis, where the slither of her underwear peeked out of the comfy silk. The gown gripped her large bust and pulled them apart, causing a sizable gap between her huge, natural tits.
Sitting on the bed the Elf crossed her legs over each other with little issue, flexibility in Elves was common. Yet another forced evolution trait the Orcs put elves through thousands of years ago. As she shut her eyes she wondered if Aro knew of her people’s history…Aro…Handsome, rugged, hairy Aro. She bit her lip as her pussy throbbed, leaking more juice out and onto the soft fabric of her panties.
“Goddess Vernande give me strength to block these corrupting thoughts. Goddess Vernande give me strength to block these corrupting thoughts. Goddess Vernande give me strength to block these corrupting thoughts.”
She repeated the words again and again, as the stuffy air surrounded her and whipped around her curves like a caressing vortex. Meditation helped the lewd thoughts, the temple taught that when she gave up her right to intimacy over one hundred years ago. She meditated until the fatigue built up enough for her to softly collapse onto her bed, falling into a silent sleep.
They met at the town’s gates early the next morning. Aro was there first, ripping and tearing at a small loaf of warm bread he had charmed his way into getting from the pretty baker’s daughter a few minutes prior. The heat of the last day had carried over, and the young, rugged adventurer could feel the discomfort spread through his body; the plated leather across his chest, arms and legs only made things worse for him. From the corner of his eyes he saw his attractive companion approach, cloak discarded to show her baggy white robes in full. They were of course nothing short of elegant, and weaved to perfection. In his opinion, the perfect looking woman needed the perfect garments, and those robes she devoted herself to wear made her look like a forbidden fruit.
A look of surprise crossed her puffy lips as she gave him a pleasant smile. “Good morning Aro.” She said with the very same courtesy from the night before. Aro stretched before bowing to her. “And to you.”
“I am happy you managed to make it on time, I have heard you sellwords are rarely punctual.” Trysh averted her gaze from the taller gentleman, colour returning to her cheeks.
“Coming from the girl who arrived late last night.”
Trysh giggled and shook her head. “Silly me, I stand corrected. Shall we head out? I should like to reach Riverrun before supper time I think.”
They duo began their journey, making toward the towering silver gates that kept the town free from all sorts of dangers. It was a short walk, through the town square and the walk was done, however one obstacle laid in their way.
The gatekeeper was a hulking, seven foot giant of a man. Barrel chested and dark skinned. His hair tied back into tight braids, and his teeth there yellowed from tobacco. The difference in height between Trysh and he was astounding, scary even. He looked cruel, with a deep scar across his cheek, and a heavy chunk of flesh taken from his jaw that left a large crevice in his head. Clearly he had been magically enhanced to become larger, stronger. It was a marvel at what modern sorcerers could do to modify bodies. He stomped over to us, placing his massive hand against my chest.
“Woah there! What brings you two to the gates this early in the morning?” he said in a booming voice. Trysh looked at her companion, wide eyed and clearly scared.
“We are heading for Riverrun, we were going to leave the night before but we were sidetracked.” Aro said, resting one hand on the pommel of his sword; a simple gesture to show the gatekeeper that he was armed, and his broad shoulders and stoic tone showed that he knew how to use it.
“Sorry but we’ve had reports of Elves smuggling contraband from town to town lately. And it looks like you could be hiding quite a bit under those robes of yours milady. I’m going to have to search you.” The gatekeeper ignored Aro, and spoke directly to Trysh who nervously chuckled and fumbled with her hands. She yelped sweetly as the gatekeeper wrapped a hand over her shoulder and yanked it toward him. He turned and made for the small dorm room which connected to the gate. “I’ll do a private search..Just the two of us…Or your friend can watch us, if that’s what he’s into…Come on baby, lets have some fun.” He flashed a knowing look at Aro. A look that said to him that the Elven meat had been claimed.
Trysh struggled, fumbling with the giant man’s arm in attempts to get his heavy gasp from her. She turned her head and gave her handsome bodyguard a pleading look, silently mouthing “HELP!” as her sub nosed heels dragged against the cobblestone pathway.
Aro grit his teeth and thumbed the tarnished metal of the swords pommel. He hated what he was seeing. He would take her easily, his size and strength alone would ensure the celibate Elf would no longer be celibate by the time she left the dorm.
Before the creep had gotten too far with the delicate priestess, Aro stepped powerfully forward and bravely slammed his hand against the gatekeeper’s wrist.
“Hold on their friend. This is my wife. Claimed her on my eighteenth birthday. She belongs to me. And if you take the mother of our unborn child away for this…Inspection…you’ll find my sword in your back before you have enough time to get your belt off.” Aro spoke with a fearsome vigor, tone deep and growling like a hungry lion. His eyes were aflame, yet instantly softened when he looked upon the worried Trysh.
He looked back and forth at them, and Trysh played up to the facade by clutching her tummy with her arms as if a mother would try to protect her baby. There was silence, only the wind that blew through the trees caused a slight rustle. The gatekeeper growled as the squeak of a merchant’s cart approached the other side of the gate. He knew the opportunity to fuck the Elf was gone. “Fucking hell.” He grunted as he released his harsh grip on Trysh’alia. He firmly prodded her into Aro, which caused her to stumble on her robes.
She fell to her knees and caught herself by tightly wrapping her arms across Aro’s legs. She collected herself quickly and looked up to Aro, who was stunned from the sight of her on her knees, eye level with his throbbing loins. Her robes were caught under her knees, and as she straightened, the neckline unraveled and pulled down over her chest. Her soft, voluptuous breasts dragged up Aro’s lower body, as more of her immense cleavage exposed itself to the hormonal man. He eyed the small boob mole on her right breast, and a small throb of his sex followed.
His eyes caught this, and gasped as her huge mounds compressed together and started to spill out from her loosening robes. She dragged her large bust up over his crotch and up his stomach as she made it back to her feet, blushing heavily, averting his eyes.
“Thank you my love.” She said as she rose to her tip toes and planted a soft, wet kiss onto Aro’s cheek, close enough to his mouth that the corner of his lips felt the soft plump lips press onto his. It caused his body to tighten up. Like a statue made of solid stone.
Would a priestess even be allowed to act in such a way? Even if it was an act to stop that man from having her?
As the squeak of the gates opening sounded in their ears, Trysh clutched Aro’s arm and pulled herself tightly against him. his arm found solitude between the valley of her soft, oversized tits as she leant into him like a lover would her husband. She shot the rapey guard a withering look, and proceeded to usher Aro out of the town’s gates, into the wilderness.
As the guardsman and the merchant cart slowly disappeared from view Aro sighed and slowly loosened up. “Good acting…Would I be right in guessing this isn’t the first time you’ve come across a man like that?”
Trysh sighed and oddly kept a hold on Aro for far longer than she needed. “All the time…”
The twosome were on their way to Riverrun. Yet to get there, a forest awaited…
To Be Continued in Chapter 2: The Deadly Forest