Arisen Anew Ch. 01

FOREWORD

Hello, and welcome to the world of Arisen Anew. This series will tell a tale of corruption, of hopes betrayed and descents into depravity. The evil will not necessarily be vanquished, heroes will not necessarily win, and the protagonist will not necessarily be redeemed.

The smut will delve into some dark, twisted places, and so I will be making sure to tag each chapter appropriately and accurately. Please make sure to check the tags. You have been warned.

As a last note, the depictions of anal will, as is often the case in erotica and porn in general, not be accurate with regard to the preparation required. The story makes use of the real-world phenomenon where women do not partake in the need for bodily functions (ergo the back door is always clean).

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CHAPTER 1

Elestrea shivered as she came to, uncomfortably aware of the chill, musty air that caressed her form through her clothes and armor. Slick, uneven rock underneath her made for an austere bed, further sapping her of her body heat.

A headache to rival her worst hangover threatened to push her eyeballs out of their sockets, and it was only with the greatest effort that the elven princess managed to stifle a groan and remain still. Fighting back the nausea, she tried to gather her thoughts.

She and her retinue had been chasing a band of highwaymen, deserters of the army of the human king Ergos that had decided to try their luck preying on elven lands. They had cornered the bandits in a ravine, and it had actually seemed as if the humans were willing to surrender when all hell had broken loose.

The last thing she remembered was the ground beneath them crumbling away, cries of surprise and panic from both sides, and her Oathsworn, Ilverith, reaching out to her as they both fell into the newly formed abyss.

Given their shared astonishment, it was unlikely that the sinkhole had been a trap laid by the deserters, and Elestrea had not heard any sounds indicative of jailors — human or otherwise — since she had awoken. Still, she maintained feigning unconsciousness, cracking open her eyes just enough to scan her environment. What she saw brought her upright, the sudden movement eliciting a wince as her headache pointedly reminded her of its presence.

She was in a cavern, perhaps twice the size of her royal apartments in the palace. Bioluminescent fungi dotted the walls and floor, giving off enough light for an elf's inherent darkvision to make out the features of the subterranean cavity. From her position near one of the walls, she could see what might be openings to more of the underground cave system as well as holes toward the ceiling, one of which had likely served as the entryway to her current location. What grabbed her attention, however, was the flesh-like growth covering the otherwise bare stone. A web of strands reminiscent of veins connected pale, misshapen tumors, the largest of which were barely a handspan in height.

Elestrea's hand instinctively reached for her sword, though she doubted her blade would be useful here. She recognized these monstrosities. Not many would, but as a noble in line for the throne, however far down, she was well-versed in history.

The tumors had been vividly described in several of her textbooks on an era long gone, predating human civilization. A necromancer's experiment gone horribly wrong; a tide of madness and blood that had threatened the existence of all the living races; fathers turned against sons, daughters against mothers, neighbors against friends. Those old tomes spoke of humans, elves, dwarves, and even goblinkin and wildlife twisted into unholy caricatures of themselves. Of a single touch leading to the fall of entire cities. Of necrotic, fleshy cysts carpeting the land.

The Bile had returned.

Her eyes flickered between the patches of growth as her breathing quickened and her heartbeat drummed in her ears. This isn't possible. The Bile was wiped out millenia ago! A quick glance behind her showed that Elestea had miraculously managed to land in one of the few portions of the cavern not covered in the dangerous tumors.

Retreating to the wall to maximize the space between her and a fate worse than death, she fought down her rising panic, racking her brain for any useful information. But despite the intensity with which the topic had been covered, it had been more of a cautionary tale to the research of magic. With the chaos sowed in its aftermath and the loss of a significant fraction of the world's population, few reliable sources describing the Bile and how exactly it was combated survived to this day. In other words, Elestrea was flying blind.

The elven princess forced herself to draw a deep breath, entering Lor, a meditative state taught to her by her swordmaster for maintaining the calm focus needed in combat. The familiar texture of her sword's grip provided a focal point for her concentration as she automatically settled into Willow Awaiting the Wind, her blade held lowered to one side.

As her heart rate slowed back down and her awareness of her surroundings heightened, she noticed a faint odor lingering in the air, previously masked by the musty overtones of the glowing fungi. She couldn't quite place what it was, but now that she turned her attention to it, she discovered it to be vaguely pleasing. With every breath, it felt as if she was on the verge of triggering a pleasant memory.

Minutes slipped past as Elestrea enjoyed the scent, trying in vain to pin down what it reminded her of.

The clang of metal on rock snapped the elf out of her stupor. Blushing fiercely, she stooped down to retrieve her sword, berating herself for letting her guard down in her current situation. Swordmaster Avon would never let her hear the end of it if she ever found out her student had dropped her weapon from sheer absentmindedness. To make matters worse, she realized that she'd become aroused, the crisp cave air on her skin contrasting starkly with the fuzzy warmth in her lower abdomen.

What in the hells is going on? I haven't made a mistake like that since before I was allowed to hold a real blade. And why the fuck am I turned on?!

The soft fibers of her breeches stuck to the wetness gathering between her legs, and Elestrea let out a little whimper when her thighs rubbed together as she stood back up. The sensation startled her; she wasn't ever this sensitive. An image of her playing with herself on the cool stone floor flashed through her mind, her fingers slipping into her sodden tunnel before returning to rub circles around her aching clit.

Elestrea had sheathed her sword and was unbuckling her belt before she realized what she was doing. Without hesitating, the princess brought her hand down and then quickly back up and around with an open palm. SLAP! The sound echoed sharply in the otherwise silent cavern.

Finally dragged back to her senses, she flexed her jaw and carefully resecured her belt. Something was wrong with her, that was obvious. Whether it was a result of some nefarious byproduct of the Bile was impossible to tell, but the self-administered slap seemed to have worked in clearing her mind. At least for now.

Considering that the scent she had picked up while in Lor might have been the trigger, she decided to avoid utilizing the trance again. Regardless, she needed to figure out how to escape. Information that the Bile had somehow survived and was festering in elven lands was of utmost importance and necessitated immediate action by her father the King.

That being said, Elestrea wasn't sure how to proceed. Her headache was still using her brain as a trampoline, and the blow from her own hand — while needed — hadn't helped. Now her cheek throbbed a counterbeat to the swirling pulse upstairs. Without the meditative state, it was going to be difficult to concentrate enough to orient herself underground, let alone avoid the Bile around her and navigate her way back to the surface.

Sighing, she sat down to take stock of her supplies. That, at least, she could do without much effort. She unbuckled her sword and hunting knife, laying them in front of her. Thankfully, the belt pouch containing her emergency foodstuffs had survived the descent intact. Her half-full canteen held enough water to easily last a few days, perhaps longer in the chilly underground environment. Likewise, the compacted bars of grain, nuts, and fat of her rations would sustain her for a week, but she would have to be careful with conserving her energy. An outer pant pocket produced a length of enhanced dwarven rope. Lastly, she checked the small, specialized containers worn around her waist. Several vials had been crushed, caking the interior of one of the pouches in sap and powdered lodestone. Another bag dripped ocean-blue owlcat blood. Most of her reagents, however, were still serviceable. Importantly, her collection of goose down sat secure in its purse. Those little feathers would likely be the key to her making it back to the surface.

With that done, the princess settled down to rest, her sword propped up against the wall within easy reach. Hopefully, her headache would subside after a nap, and she could begin searching for a way out. The initial adrenaline rush of encountering the Bile depleted and any complex thoughts scattered by rolling waves of pain, the bone-deep fatigue she had been suppressing flowed to the forefront. It didn't take long for Elestrea to succumb to the gentle embrace of sleep.

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The figure in front of her whimpered, a small needy sound, as Ellestrea ran a finger teasingly down her spine. The musky scent of femininity permeated the air.

Feet shackled to the floor with sashes of darkness and arms likewise stretched above her, the captive woman's svelte form was presented as a personal playground for the princess. Toned muscles twitched in her elevated arms and across her back in response to the feather-light touch grazing over her skin. A slim waist flared out slightly to transition to shapely hips and a well-sculpted ass, firm from a lifetime of dedication to her craft. Long, lithe legs struggled to close themselves, to provide some additional stimulation for the drooling mess between her thighs. All in vain, of course. The bindings held her tight, feet wide apart and wet sex easily accessible to all but herself.

Smiling at her captive's piteous attempts, Elestrea closed the distance between their bodies, pressing herself into the soft heat of the other woman's back and running her hands up a flat stomach to cup perfectly pert breasts. They were large for an elf, velvety firm flesh weighing heavily in her grasp. Elestrea could feel her lover shivering against her, hips making small, unconscious movements to grind her rear against the satin skin behind them.

The restrained woman cooed in appreciation as the princess began playing with her nipples, tweaking the sensitive tips and grazing them with her fingernails. One hand took leave from a breast to collect some of the gooey indulgence running down trembling legs, quickly returning to anoint the stiff peaks with new pleasure. The bound elf's coos rapidly evolved into moans, and her back arched as she pushed her chest forward, offering herself further.

Leaning in, she nuzzled her toy's ear, eliciting another whimper.

"Such a good pet deserves to be rewarded, don't you think?"

The elf's shivering intensified, though she displayed no other indication that she had heard the princess's words. With a predatory grin, Elestrea licked and nibbled her way down the woman's back, following the line she had previously traced with her finger, all the while continuing her ministrations on her lover's bosom.

On reaching the dimple of her lower back, the princess gave one final pinch to the stiff buds, evoking a sharp intake of air, before bringing her hands down to knead the toned bottom. She played with the elf's ass for a long moment, massaging, kissing, and nipping at the shapely rear, delighting in the escalating tone of her toy's moans. Eventually, she spread the obstruent buttcheeks apart to reveal her prize: a winking starfish, its pink interior flashing shyly in and out of sight.

Wasting no time, she dipped her head forward, forming a seal around the hole with her lips and applying suction. She languidly circled the pucker with her tongue, exploring each crease several times over before slipping in deeper, past the hungry ring of muscle.

Above her, her bound playmate contorted, muscles straining against fetters, head tilted back with her mouth locked in a shocked 'O' of ecstasy. Her moans were silenced, replaced once again by needy little whimpers that synchronized with the tongue writhing its way deeper inside her.

The princess had barely begun when her feast was interrupted. Her lover's asshole clamped down and forced her tongue out as a massive orgasm overtook the captive elf, a keening wail making its way past her lips. Liquid sprayed out from the woman's pussy in waves, covering Elestrea and pooling on the floor. Undeterred, Elestrea continued to tease her pet's gasping rosebud, only letting up when she felt her slump in her restraints, her orgasm finally exhausted.

With one last indulgent kiss to the winking ring, she turned her attention to the results of her handiwork, reveling in the taste as she licked syrupy rivulets from tanned skin. She worked from the knees upward, completing her cleanup with a long swipe of her tongue along the near-insensate elf's slit.

Standing up, the princess reached out to cup her captive's chin, lovingly brushing aside stray strands of hair to reveal the haggard face of Ilverith. Smiling at her Oathsworn's dazed expression, she leaned in for a kiss, parting her lips to share the juices she had lapped up...

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Elestrea awoke to find her womanhood soaked, the substantial wet patch on her breeches clinging uncomfortably to her skin. She was fairly sure the wetness had penetrated to her trousers as well.

Glancing around, she determined that she was safe — relatively speaking — before returning her attention to her dream. It had been so vivid, so real, and she could remember every detail. That oddity aside, the dream's sexual nature bemused her. She had never been attracted to other women in that way, and as far as she knew, Ilverith was likewise uninterested in the fairer sex. Hell, as far as she knew, Ilverith was uninterested in sex entirely. Her confidante seemed to breathe and drink her duty as the princess's Oathsworn, going above and beyond her role as a guardian-slash-squire. In truth, she was the closest thing Elestrea had to a real friend, sharing in her secrets and sorrows, her hopes and joys ever since the two had been introduced.

Regardless of either of their sexual inclinations, Elestrea had to admit that the dream had been extremely arousing. Was very arousing. And also very confusing. If she had never been interested in women before, she had definitely never thought of chaining up a lover, let alone the anus as a source of pleasure. Yet now, she couldn't help but wonder what sort of noises the ever-serious Ilverith would make as her body was played with. How would she react if Elestrea bound her like in the dream and suckled on those perky nipples?

Her hands unconsciously roamed to her aching pussy, and the princess groaned as she pressed down and rubbed. The soft linen of her underclothes, saturated in her juices, provided a delicious level of friction against her clit. She would get this out of the way quickly, remove what would only remain a distraction should she leave herself unsatisfied. Her fingers moved frantically back and forth, dragging out more bliss, and in her mind, she replayed her dream, visualizing the submission of her close companion.

The first crest of her climax hit quickly. Lying on the rough stone floor of the cavern, Elestrea experienced the most intense orgasm of her life as she echoed the words from her dream to an imagined lover.

"Such a good pet deserves to be rewarded..."