Herb Quest Pt. 05: A Burning Hatred

Eloise remained silent during this entire speech. A kernel of emotion deep within her acknowledged some of his accusations to be true but the righteousness of her cause, the vengeance she required quashed that kernel remorselessly. She would give him no further opportunity to admonish her, her time was better spent looking for a way out.

A long and boring hour passed as she sat on the tabletop watching the old troll leaf through the pages of the book at a leisurely pace. The only blessing was that the ache in her head had now fully abated, as had the pain from the beating she'd received. In fact, she felt fresher than she had in an age. Eloise would have been relieved by this if not for an annoying itch in her sex, the type of itch that required more than a simple scratch to alleviate. She couldn't remember feeling this way after a battle before so it wasn't a product of the adrenaline of conflict. Finally, she put it down to her being cut off from her magic, perhaps her body reacting to its absence in a way she would naturally be unfamiliar with.

There was a knock on the door to the druid's laboratory as she had taken to thinking of the room, it sounded better than 'her cell'. Eloise shifted on the table as the troll rose back to his feet, calling out for the caller to enter.

A troll entered deferentially, leaning in to whisper a message to the druid. The old troll shook his head, reclaiming his staff which he tapped loudly on the floor a number of times as he answered back, also in a whisper so that Eloise found herself leaning forward in an effort to discover what was so annoying to her captor.

All credit to the younger troll, he masked his fear well. Despite the druid's anger and refusal, he stuck to his mission, obviously repeating his message despite the low growl now coming from the druid's throat. Finally, the druid gave a final loud blow to the floor with his staff and he nodded curtly to the younger troll.

"You are sent for." he said turning to face Eloise.

"By whom?" Eloise crossed her arms over her chest, if the King was away, perhaps it was a military leader than wished to interrogate her. Well, he would learn nothing from her.

"By the Prince. He heard of your capture and wishes to... see you. So, see you he shall. Get down."

Eloise couldn't think of a reason to refuse or a method to back up any refusal and so she hopped off the table to stand in front of the druid. He once again took a hold of her arms, examining the glossy green vines encircling her arms. Now that she was thinking clearer, Eloise registered with some surprise that the Druids skin was warmer than her own, as if his core temperature was a few degrees higher than a human. When he was satisfied, he released his hold, pushing her gently but firmly toward the prince's messenger.

"They will hold, but tell him not to tarry." This was delivered to the messenger; the next words though were for Eloise's ears and were pitched low to keep them private.

"Power and youth are often poor companions. Both in you and in my Prince. I will remain close by, should I be needed... for protection."

As Eloise followed the messenger from the room, she found herself unsure if the druid meant her protection or that of the prince.

Chapter 3:

Eloise felt somewhat self-conscious walking through the corridors of the building in her tight clothing. Even though the Trolls seemed to place no stock in clothing, she did and the tight-fitting silk and leather ensemble seemed to her to draw the eye of every Troll they passed.

Or perhaps it was all in her imagination. It was far more likely they were staring at a human in their midst than to be gazing at her with the sexual predatory stares that she imagined. Her imagination, her thoughts, all kept revolving around her own heightened libido. Eloise found herself having to wrench her disappointed gaze from the smooth crotches of the Trolls, forcing herself to focus on a means of escape rather than pleasure.

They reached their destination after a few minutes' walk. She was reluctant to admit that she was impressed by both the craftmanship and scale of the Trolls... building... palace perhaps? Her guide tapped a short series of knocks on the plain oak door before pushing it open at the muffled command from within.

The room Eloise found herself in gave her yet another feeling of familiarity. While the Druid's study had reminded her of her masters' rooms when she had been an acolyte, this room reminded her of many lords and nobles chambers she had seen in her travels in the southlands. Except for the scale. Everything in the room was built with the height and breadth of the Trolls in mind. The chairs, the table with its bottles and goblets and even the bed that filled a corner of the room, all seemed over large to her eyes.

There was a single figure in the room. The Prince no doubt. He was tall for his race, closer to eight feet, but apart from the height and a thick silver torc encircling his neck he appeared no different from any other. The Prince waved a thick fingered green hand in a dismissive gesture and the attendant that had guided Eloise to the chamber departed, shutting the door audibly behind him.

"So, you are the human magic user who slew so many of my people." the Troll Prince declared, stepping closer to Eloise. Like the druid, his command of the common tongue used by humans was impeccable if accented.

Eloise answered with a sharp nod. "I'd have taken down more of your kind if your Druid had not ambushed me with his own spells."

"I am aware. Brechlahn well remembers the wars with your kind. His own sire having died in the fighting. I have no doubt his countermeasures were well prepared when word of your attack came to us." The Prince indicated a chair by the table, inviting Eloise to sit down. Stubbornly she remained where she stood. He gave an unconcerned shrug of his broad shoulders, taking a seat himself.

"His sire? His father you mean?" Eloise sought to clarify the Prince's remark.

"Indeed." came the simple reply.

"But... our knowledge of you monsters, Trolls, Giants and the like. It's legend, passed down over centuries." Eloise said, trying to grasp at the import of this.

"Yes, our lifespan is measured in such. Centuries to your mere decades. And we refer to ourselves as 'Muintir na Riasc', not Trolls and certainly not Monsters. If any in this room have earned that title it's you and your ilk."

Eloise wanted to rage at him, tell him about the atrocities suffered by her people from the Giant and Orc invasion. She wanted to use all the learning and study she had toiled through these past years, flaunt her mastery of language and debate to prove without doubt that creatures such as he, creatures who had slain her greatest friend were the only ones befitting the label of 'monster'.

"Fuck. You." Eloise intoned.

"Yes, without doubt." he answered cryptically before standing and approaching her once more. He took a firm hold of her arm and led her into the center of the room, from there Eloise could see that the walls were covered in vibrant tapestries of greens, yellows and browns, depicting scenes of nature through different seasons.

"This is my father's room when he is visiting the south from our true capital. He likes to surround himself with images of our demesne. He sees the land as the real trappings of power." At this the Prince stroked the silver torc he wore. Eloise grunted, she wielded true power when she wasn't bound from her magic and that was worth far more than a few million acres of swamp and marsh.

"I differ from my father; my tastes are more materialistic. I like my symbol of station." he tapped his torc.

"I like my servants and soldiers." a hand indicated the shut door.

"And I like my pets." His hand on her arm gripped tighter.

Eloise shrugged violently at his touch, shrugging her arm in an effort to free it. When that failed, she delivered a series of sharp kicks to his lower and upper legs, her booted feet making little impression in the tough spongy flesh.

He continued to hold her while his other hand tore at her clothing. His thick yet nimble fingers might have disrobed her with little damage to her apparel but the Prince seemed to take delight in the ripping and shredding of the silken shirt. The leather trousers were more of a challenge and so he delivered a stunning open-handed slap to Eloise's midriff which had her gasping for breath. He dragged her feebly struggling body to the bed in the corner, depositing her on the covers carelessly. Now free to employ both of his hands the Prince soon divested Eloise of her trousers and boots.

Naked and virtually defenceless without her magic, Eloise could do nothing to stop him, curling into a ball the limit of her resistance. The skin of her face, neck and hands had seemed pale white when she was clothed, however compared to the white flesh of her nude body they now seemed lightly tanned. Her large white breasts were topped with pink nipples that had hardened with excitement despite her circumstances and treatment. Likewise, the fine silver pubic hair at her crotch did little to hide the moist sheen from her pussy, her body's responses at odds with her mind.

She remained huddled on the bed, slowly recovering her breathing from the blow to her stomach. Eloise's mind was racing faster than ever despite the weakened appearance she presented to the Troll Prince. She intoned cantrip after cantrip in her mind, focusing her considerable will into each in turn, seeking a crack in the barrier that was blocking her from her magic.

Nothing.

The bands about her wrist seemed less lush than before. Spots of brown and black appearing on some of the leaves but outside of that... nothing.

Eloise sat up, looking up at the giant form standing at the end of the bed. Despite the title, the torc and his talk of the evils of humankind, she saw him for what he was, what Brechlahn the druid had intimated, a young fool with a taste for abusing the power he held over others. A coward. A monster.

"What's... what's your plan? Strip me, then beat me? Not like you can do anything else." Eloise said filling her voice with contempt as she indicated the smooth surface of his crotch.

His laughter took her by surprise, the booming sound tinged with as much contempt for her as her words had held for him.

"You petty little humans. A few short centuries and you forget all that you once knew to be true."

As he finished speaking, he closed his eyes, giving off an audible croaking sound from the back of his throat.

Eloise was unable to access her own powers but she was still sensitive to the power of others. She felt a stirring in the ether, unfamiliar to her but she intuitively felt it to be an innate magic, an ability rather than a skill. She watched as the flesh of his crotch began to stir.

Chapter 4:

Captain Montogrune had briefed her before the assault regarding the Trolls regenerative properties. Hewn limbs reattaching themselves or in some instances regrowing themselves entirely. She'd been dubious about the limit of this 'ability' but now she was witnessing it for herself or at least something that stemmed from this same capability.

A penis was taking form before her very eyes. Not a simple hardening of a flaccid phallus from a rush of blood. An actual penis... cock... was growing from nothing.

And what a cock.

Eloise might have found Trolls to be monsters and this particular one to be a cowardly bully besides, but the towering edifice manifesting from the green flesh of his crotch was monstrous... and beautiful. She found herself licking her lips.

'Licking her lips? What had gotten into her?' Eloise was shocked by her reaction to the transformation happening in front of her. Into her... gotten into her...she looked down at the foliage about her arm and half stifled a groan that was a mix of frustration and desire. The herb, the one every mage and sorcerer journeying north had been warned about and charged with recovering. She'd eaten leaves of it and its properties of healing had eased her pains while increasing her capacity and desire for sex.

The Prince's own excitement was clearly written on his bestial features. His appendage had finished growing and was, like everything else in the room, sized according to a Troll's needs. It looked to be fourteen inches from base to tip, as broad in scale as every other limb on its owner, curving slightly back on itself, topped with a mushroom like head. He was still without a scrotum but Eloise didn't question it, bewildered as she was by the physiology of her enemy.

The Troll Prince rolled his shoulders, loosening the muscles, then he rocked his head from side to side, for all appearances acting like a duellist preparing for a bout, stretching muscles ahead of the combat.

Eloise watched his preparations and as the monster flexed and stretched over the next minute or two, she found her excitement growing. She knew little about the Herb beyond its reported benefits for pain management and sexual stimulation. She did reason however that the creature before her was capable, through accident or design, of inflicting severe pain and damage to her when it began to mate with her. She was going to need any advantage she could get.

She raised her arm to her mouth, sharp white teeth gnawing frantically at the vines wrapped around it, swallowing tattered leaves as quickly as she could tear them free.

The Prince observed her actions and ceased his preparations.

"That will avail you not a whit." he remarked, misunderstanding her intent, as he approached the bed. "The shackles are not so easily sundered. So, it will be better for you to use your mouth on something you can influence." His words punctuated by his long green shaft twitching in anticipation.

Eloise briefly considered sinking her teeth into his spongy flesh but what was the point against a creature that could regenerate as he did?

Instead, she unthinkingly slid toward the edge of the bed, squatting, knees spread, so that her mouth was in line with his green cock. Slowly she craned forward, her lower lip rubbing the underside of his mushroom shaped head as her mouth engulfed the first few inches of Troll flesh, lips drawing toward each other as she began to suck on his cock.

The human mage had been unsure what his cock would feel like and the student in her took a moment to mentally record the sensation. His cock was hard, as hard as any she had touched in the past but there was still a certain amount of give in that solidity. The flesh compressing lightly as she pressed her lips to it. The skin, as her tongue lapped against it, had a rougher, coarser feel than that of a human's and while it was tasteless, its odour Eloise could only describe as liken to freshy turned earth, reminding her of farmers tilling fields in the springtime.

Like the touch of the Druids hand on her skin, Eloise found the Prince's flesh warmer than her own, almost feverlike to the touch.

Without realising it, Eloise found that one of her hands had come to rest on the Troll's buttock, firmly squeezing it as her head bobbed rapidly atop the cock. The Prince was sighing lightly, for his species, in pleasure, crooning in Trollish occasionally. Eloise pulled her head away with an effort of will, checking her own response to keep pleasuring the Troll. She sucked in some deep breathes, the scent of him filling her senses and in response she dropped a hand between her own legs, rubbing furiously at her dampened crotch as her head dipped once again to fellatio the towering green monster.

Her jaw ached and her tongue felt heavy and sore from its exertions but still she resisted when he finally lowered a large hand to pry her mouth from his flesh. She pulled against the implacable grip, tears springing to her eyes as her long hair was pulled taut against her scalp as she strained to taste him again. The pain cleared the fog of her mind briefly, a thought of 'I tasted too much of the herb' flashing through her head.

The Troll turned and twisted her body on the bed with a smooth effortlessness. His strength coupled with the drug induced willingness of her body, had Eloise on her hands and knees, rump raised expectantly.

His oversized head pushed against her opening almost before she had time to brace herself for his entry. Eloise felt the cushion like flesh pressing against the entrance to her pussy, the flared mushroom head of his cock felt more like a toadstool now in size as it attempted to breach the tightness of her sex. At this point she had no regrets about over indulging on the herb.

Despite the horror of having a monster, one which she had sworn to destroy, attempting to mate with her, despite the discomfort from the immense proportions of his cock stretching and battering its way inside of her, Eloise felt herself pushing back, impaling herself.

Then it was in. The resistance of her body falling beneath his assault. Her pussy, aided by the herb, responding quickly to the size of the intruding flesh, moulding itself about it, the muscle lined sides of her pussy drawing him in deeper.

"Sweet Saints and the powers between them!" Eloise hissed between clenched teeth. She could feel... everything. Her nerve endings surging data to her brain in a tidal wave. Passion, pleasure, pain... all hitting her in a tsunami of information. Too much, too fast to decipher, analyse and interpret. So, she didn't try, she just sank into the sensations much as she would the power that filled her as she moved elemental energies in her spellcasting.

And then the Troll began to fuck her.

His cock was only a few inches within her and each surge of his hips drove the moss green flesh deeper still. Eloise's head dropped to the soft coverlet of the bed, her eyes looking back beneath herself. Her big tits swung back and forth, nipples all but grazing the surface of the bed. As his pounding increased, her breasts swayed in all directions, left to right, front to rear. Through gaps as they swung, she watched his flesh pressing against her own, green on white, the sensation of hot troll flesh in her body, summer slamming against winter.

Eloise came as he worked his eighth inch inside of her, a spasm of muscle inside of her as she did that drew two further inches into her stuffed yet ravenous pussy.

"Urrrrgggh, uh, uh, oooohh, oh, oh." she whimpered.

Another inch and another orgasm, his pace increasing faster still so that Eloise fancied she could hear the frame of the bed knocking loudly against the solid wall of the room.

He rolled his hips, bringing his pace down, beat by beat, slowly drawing to a stop with eleven inches of green cock sank deep within her and yet still with more to give. Behind and above her, Eloise heard the Troll croaking and she tensed in expectation of his seed erupting within her. Her skin tingled as she sensed him working his magic again.

Inside her, his cock twitched again. Her pussy had shaped itself tight about his, flesh on flesh, and so she felt every tremor and pulse as if it were her own body. Eloise's eyes widened like saucers as his cock ceased to twitch and began to change instead. The smooth flesh of his shaft altered, she felt bumps and knots swell along its surface in an irregular pattern, many pressing directly against sensitive segments of her tunnel. She shivered and moaned in extasy.

So caught up in his alterations to his form, Eloise almost missed the flicker of movement in the room. It was just a slight dimming of light, a minor elongation of a shadow but to her combat attuned mind it was enough to draw her eye.

The knocking she had heard had not been furniture on walls, it had been a fist on the door. Lolling casually on two chairs sat two more Trolls. Like all other they were nude but each sported a thin torc of bronze about their necks.