Amy's Adventures Pt. 01

I was running, tumbling, chasing the wicked boar in front of me. The forest was treacherous: grasping vines, slick mud, dense trees--and none of that mattered. I was an elf. Nature was in my blood. My chain-mail armor and iron helm could no more impede my ability to traverse the wilds than blindness could stop a dwarf from navigating the depths of the world.

With a surge of strength, I leaped and stabbed at the creature's hind with my long-sword. It roared and slipped, hitting a hundred-year oak tree with a mighty crash. With two more swings, the boar was dead. And a human village was free of their pest.

*****

I made quite the sight carrying the beast on my shoulder. Peasants stopped and stared and pointed. I did not mind; the attention suited me just fine. I waved and gave greetings on my way to the tavern.

Inside, it lay all but empty besides three patrons; at a little past noon, most of the folk were hard at work. I walked confidently up to the bartender, a swagger in my steps. He stopped cleaning glasses with a white cloth. Raised an eyebrow: "Well done Amy. That was quick--our hunters could do little but bite dust for the past fortnight."

I let a smile slowly bloom on my face. "What can I say, Alfred? The village hired an elf. Expect the exceptional."

Alfred scoffed, but could not contain the small grin. "You're beginning to grow on me. Don't ruin it." Opening a door in the back, he waved me through.

*****

I counted out my reward with delight: one hundred Copper Crowns. Equivalent of a month's work for a peasant. Or a day for an elf adventurer like myself. And if I were so bold, I would call myself above average. I was not in the realm of the greats--yet. But each season saw me stronger than the last.

And the purpose of that strength was simple: to stop the evil witch in the East. Her forces and the Free Kingdoms were currently in an uneasy truce, but it would not last. It never did. The borders may wax and wane, but the struggles against the Bloodmoon Empire have raged for over two centuries. No trade deal or treaty has quenched the embers of her ambition.

But I had a different plan: I would give her a child. Willingly--I was no rapist, even to my worst foes--but that did not change the...unconventional nature of my scheme. My line of reasoning was sound, I believed. A wanted child would occupy her attention for years. It would give her a first-hand perspective on the wonders of life, after the neverending bloodshed. And it may, I hoped, convince her to part ways with her ambition forevermore.

The latter was admittedly a slim chance. Mothers were ferocious, and were not required to give up their ideals. My own did not, when I was in her belly. Regardless, I had to press on with my goal.

It was known the evil witch admired many things: strength, even from her foes, her bargains for allegiance from strong heroes were infamous--though they rejected her one and all; gold, wherever it may flow, it was that love which spurred her to accept trades for a time; and--naturally--admiration from others, regardless of source, for her ego was said to be quite large.

Of the three qualities, I excelled in admiration of her perfect body. My cock twitched as I recalled the paintings of her form, clad in tight, raven-black dresses and tiaras upon her brow. The swelling of her breasts and the smooth pale skin of her thighs and her plump red lips and green eyes and...

My cock was at mast now. I had unburdened myself of my armor. It would be no trouble to rub myself to completion as I had countless times before. But I was in the mood today: the boar chase had my blood pumping. The killing of the beast had me itching for a romp with one of the many fair lasses in this village.

They would be at the tavern come the evening. And I had a room there.

*****

To say I was popular tonight was an understatement: I had not paid a single coin for the past three rounds of drinks. Alfred was delighted at the flowing Crowns. Folks from all walks of life walked up to me and shook my hand with gratitude. But perhaps it was expected; harvest season was around the corner. The lifeblood of the village depended on bountiful quantities of grain. The wicked boar had threatened that. Some sort of curse or rotten herb had gotten into it and driven it mad, frothing at the mouth. Rumors said a grave had been disturbed. Foul business: I would check it out on the 'morrow. For free, of course, I was in a good mood.

The source was the fair lass all over my lap. The mayor's daughter, Tiffany. Her small breasts and toned arms--she did not shy away at working in the fields--pressed into my side with each tiding whispered into my ear with soft, pleasing breaths: the aforementioned disturbed grave, the taxmen demanding more than the king's due, wolves--big, strong, mean wolves--in the forest terrorizing hunters.

"All tidings an elf like myself is well-suited for," I said. She let out a titillating laugh; pressed harder against my body. Her tunic rose up, exposing more of her tanned and toned thighs.

The mayor, himself sitting across from me, laughed, said: "What bravado! You've got my daughter damn smitten." His wife gave a gasp, fanning herself. Her eyes were approving, however, towards Tiffany.

I gave my arm around the lass a squeeze, fingertips barely below the right breast. She lurched closer to me, brown hair covering her face and her smile shone like a candle peeking behind curtains.

It was not long after we stumbled up to my room, to rapturous cheers and vulgar comments. Alfred hollered. Her parents bore no resentment, smiling at us even as she groped my abs and petite breasts in the darkness of the stairs.

The door shut. My good mood sobered itself.

"Were you put up to this?" I said.

Her shy, lusty smile wavered. Her tunic was in the middle of being pulled up, exposing her midriff and cloth underpants. Tiffany tried a reassuring grin, but she was no theater girl. "Can I not show appreciation to our pretty, strong savior?"

"I am no fool." My voice was quiet, calm. "And I bear no ill-will to you. Answer me truly, were you put up to this...seduction?"

The lass in front of me was frozen. Her arms were still, leaving her in a state of half-dress. Her face flashed anger, denial, acceptance, before settling on a shy, lusty grin once again. With a smooth motion, her tunic was pulled over her head. She stood before me, clad only in cloth underclothes. "And what if I was? I am not opposed. I have seen twenty winters. This village has never been so troubled. It is not rich...Do you not find me appealing, Amy?"

My eyes closed. My throbbing cock was going to be put in a most foul mood for what I was about to say. "I give you my word, I will deal with those troubles you mentioned--freely, without requiring your pleasure."

"Your word?" Tiffany's voice was filled with shock.

"As an elf."

"That's..."

"Yes. Know this. I find you stunning. I truly wish to lie with you. But only out of true desire. You may leave and tell your parents the news. Doubtless they will be happy."

A moment in stillness. I heard the rustle of clothes--she must be putting her tunic back on. I kept my eyes closed, forsaking the vision of a beautiful lass clothing herself, kept them closed as footsteps echoed towards me and the door.

And paused in front of me. "And...what if I find you stunning. Beautiful. Igniting a fire inside me."

What--

I opened my eyes and beheld Tiffany divested of undergarments, body glowing in the candlelight. She was captivating: brown eyes glinted with promise; brown hair fanned her face and upper back; bare breasts bore puffy nipples, ripe as a fruit; midriff toned like the rest of her body; pussy with hair--I did not mind--and a string of shining wetness; delicious legs and thighs; and dainty feet.

Her arms were on her hips and her blushing face did not shy away from my gaze. And her eyes closed when I stepped forwards and brought my lips to hers.

*****

Sparks fell between us. Her hands groped my chest like it was the key to the Golden Gate. My own fingers hungered greedily, caressing her neck and breasts, pinching her nipples to gasps in my mouth.

"Put your hands here," Tiffany breathed, shyly. But opened her eyes and stared at mine when she put one hand around her throat and the other cupping her left breast.

"I'll be gentle," I said. She nodded with full trust. I was touched she would share her interests to me so forth-rightly. She must regret the short-lived deception. Then I brought her back to my lips in a clash of passion. I constricted her ability to breathe when our mouths were together, and let her gasp in air when we pulled apart, before bringing us closer again in a cycle of pleasure. My right hand showed my admiration of her body, and her trust in me, with each caress and pinch of her nipple. Whenever I squeezed with both hands, Tiffany would shudder and rub her thighs against mine.

Her own hands were not idle. She diligently explored my petite breasts over my tunic, like each like they were a handful of gold. I gasped in her mouth whenever she pinched me lightly. She was shy, but eager in her exploration of my body.

It did not take long for me or Tiffany to desire other carnal activities. When she pulled back once again, she gently tapped me to let go, between mouthfuls of air. I complied, and she pulled my tunic over my body. In the candlelight, my undergarments shone like a blacksmith's forge--including the bulge of my cock.

"You have a...dick." She said, shy at the vulgar term. But not so at leering at my body.

"Yes," I said. I was unashamed. Those like me--people who were not at home in their born bodies--were known across all of the world. Few held ill-will to us. Options existed for discomfort in the skin. But not all were attracted--fair though disappointing to my libido.

But I needn't have worried. Tiffany attacked my lips again, before pulling away and pulling off my cloth bra. Her mouth went down my lips, cheek, neck, shoulder--biting and leaving a hickey, before pecking kisses in a line to my left nipple. She sucked like she was a babe. I caressed her hair and squeezed her neck and whispered of the naughty things I wanted to do to her.

"Your plump lips were made to serve your betters" I was saying, commanding, "You want to kneel, don't you? You want to be my slave." I found Tiffany reacted quite strongly to being lesser to someone else. Her arousal had dripped down her thigh in appreciation of my siren song.

And she rushed to fulfill this fantasy. She kneeled on the wood with great swiftness, before pulling down my last undergarment. I stepped out of it as she stared with a blush at my cock: six inches, clean-shaven with my precise skill in blade-work, a drop of arousal hanging by a thread. She leaned into it with a questioning, shy look. I gave an encouraging nod. She exposed her tongue like she sought a snowflake, capturing the drop. Her curious eyes were delightful. She inquired of the taste by sloshing it around her mouth, to my appreciation, before swallowing with a shy grin.

"Can you...?" Tiffany said. Voice failing her, she pulled my arm to her neck.

"Of course." I wrapped one hand around her throat and grabbed the back of her head with the other. Slowly, I pulled her to cock, letting her take one, two inches before stopping. Her eyes conveyed her appreciation at the pace--and her lust--as she got used to the organ in her mouth. Her arms braced herself on her thighs as she licked her tongue up and around. I throbbed when she let go, leaned in, then took a long sniff before kissing it again. My hands squeezed to show my appreciation. She trembled, before encasing my cock in her mouth again.

This time I pulled her to four inches. Her limit. It was clear she was not experienced, and I had no wish for her to experience anything but a wonderful time. She let it soak in her saliva for a moment. Her gaze flicked to me, shy and lusty. She moaned her readiness, enjoying the organ in her throat. I directed her movements up and down my cock with the hand grabbing her head, gently squeezing her neck with the other when it was most in and letting up as she slid back. One of her hands soon found itself caressing her breasts, then straying near her pussy. And I did not let up whispering to her.

"You're doing so good. Your mouth feels like it's coated in the drink of the gods." It was important to show appreciation, I believed. Not that I did not also degrade her, as she desired to. "Your parents should be proud. They've raised such a perfect cocksucker. And with such obedience: you've been waiting for a mistress this whole time. The mayor's daughter--who knew she would like to be treated like the village whore."

She moaned into me. The words gave her a perverse pride. She reached five inches. Then tapped my arms. When I let go, she dragged me to the small bed, face blushing and shy but eager, and lay down. I towered over her, yet did not penetrate her. I wanted to give her a time to remember. A certain thoroughness was needed. With a finger, I caressed her pussy lips. She looked with wide brown eyes--so fetching--and brown hair framed like a halo in the candlelight, before nodding with a lip bite.

I caressed her entrance, squeezing in a fingertip--to her moan--before pulling back and raising it to the candlelight. The dim light reflected in my blue eyes as I tasted her wetness and coated the finger in my saliva. The act enticed her. Her tongue ran over her lips. Then my finger was inside of her, one, two inches. With the other hand I raised her right leg. Moved myself closer and let my cock rub on it. My arousal mixed with drops of her wetness on her inner thigh.

"Can I go deeper?" I said.

"Yes. Please." A voice of want.

I did as the fair lass commanded and went up to four inches. I encountered a barrier, a hymen: a thin flap of skin.

"Do you wish me to..."

"Not yet." Tiffany's face kept its blush. She shined with vitality in the candlelight. Maintaining eye-contact, she grabbed both of her legs, raising up the one I had not. "Please...touch your hand there again."

I gave a grin and moved onto the bed with her. The springs depressed noisily. My saliva-coated cock was over the mound of her entrance--finger still inside, jostling a bit--and I reached out with the hand previously on her leg. We were pressed together tightly, and I felt her shudders as I choked her when I moved my finger to the barrier then out.

There was not enough moving back and forth in this act to make noise with the bed. That would come later, and I considered her parents hearing us before discarding it. They had sent her for this purpose, though she joined me in willing carnal union now; they should expect the motions and sounds.

Soon, I found her wet enough to insert another finger. Making my intentions clear--she nodded--I had a pair inside of her. And of course, I kept talking.

"Everything about you is gorgeous: your eyes, hair, moans." She moaned in time as I choked her for a moment. "You beautiful woman. Your shyness--paired with eagerness. Gods, I cannot believe your parents cultivated such a wonderful slave for me. You'll do whatever your mistress wishes, won't you?"

She nodded around my hand, mouth wide taking gasps.

"You'll touch me." A nod. "You'll suck me." A nod. "You'll fuck me." A pause...before an eager nod. "You'll even bear my child." My fantasy spilled out of me. I had a desire to see women swell up with my children, if it were not obvious. And something about the lass underneath me had loosened my tongue. The drinks must have contributed to it. But she had remained sober.

A long pause. I stopped my movements; fear taking me of ruining the moment; looking in her eyes. Tiffany wore surprise on her face. Her pussy tightened around my fingers.

"That is just a fantasy--I'll pull out of course. Give herbs to be sure." I hastily said. "If you still wish to lie with me." I could not stop blabbering. I withdrew my fingers. "I understand if you may feel--"

"Is that truly your desire?" Tiffany's face was losing its surprise. Something glinted in her brown eyes. I could not tell what in the cloudiness of my thoughts. My regret was strong. I chose to be honest.

"...Yes. A woman bearing my child...is so primal I cannot help but be filled with desire. It has consumed me at times: I have learned remedies to ease pregnancies and births, to share with any woman who has joined me in my lust."

"...Have any been with your child?"

"No. I have not asked; I usually command better control of my tongue. It is difficult--how can I ask one to dedicate years to raising a child I may only see sparingly?"

"...Ask me." Tiffany's face had returned to its customary shyness. A red flush filled her. Her brown eyes glinted with promise.

I could not believe my ears. "...Will you bear my child?" I did not dare hope.

"Yes," she whispered. Her legs--she had not stopped holding them up--pulled wider invitingly.

"Even when I can offer little help raising the child? I have no Gold Crowns, only recipes to share--receipes the physician in the nearest town knows."

"Yes," she said. Voice louder.

"...Even when I may only see you and the child sparingly? Even when your relationship with your parents will be at stake?"

"Yes," she said. Voice confident. "My parents were part of the earlier scheme. They will support me and not think less. Do not worry about Crowns."

"...The town will know once they see your belly swell and a half-elf babe is born in three seasons."

"The town knows you're a hero. Some of the womenfolk may be jealous." I was taken back at the latter statement. But it fit into what I said next.

"...Even when I promise no loyalty? I wish to spread my seed wide." This was the most honest I have been with my fantasy. Confessing the truth made my tongue waggle like losing a great weight: "I may even lie with the womenfolk you mentioned, filling their bellies with children."

I felt relief and fear after uttering the words. This is who I was.

She licked her lips. "I do not mind. You're a heroine. Having many lovers is what you do. Will you mind the thought of me with others--when pregnant and afterwards? This wonderful, amazing time has given me joy for the carnal acts. I cannot guarantee I will not be with a child again, out of wedlock, though I may take precautions."

"I would be a hypocrite."

"Then yes!" My cock throbbed. Her lusty voice may have leaked through the door but we did not care.

The springs adjusted noisily as I lined up my cock. "Even so, you may ask me to stop any time, Tiffany."

"Thank you but I will not. You have been so gentle with me--now know me like I am your wife."

I entered; it felt like heaven. Her pussy shaped itself around me, its warm tightness forbidding me from leaving. I thrusted one, two inches. With one hand I choked her. This time her reaction was immediate: her legs folded behind my plump behind and pulled me deeper. Her hymen broke right away. We stayed still for a moment, breathing deeply.

There was no sprinkling of blood. She was well and truly aroused. I leaned down and took her right nipple in mouth. Now I was the one sucking like a babe. My hips stayed still, cock throbbing. Briefly, she caressed my raven-black hair. I forced down the urge to completion; it was too soon.

I bit her nipple as I choked her again. The sensation had her thrusting back with force and moaning as she gripped her legs in shocks of pleasure. I was at five inches. Slowly, I entered fully, to the last--sixth--inch. Paused.

"You're doing wonderful, Tiffany," I said. My voice was gentle. I looked up, face above her breast.

"And you feel--exquisite. Please." Tiffany looked down, brown eyes dilated. She opened her lips in invitation.