Life of a Guard

Being a guard in the capital was good honest work. You put your armor on every day, stand at attention, try not to pass out from the heat, and then go back home. Dryas had been a guard for five years, enough to earn some clout, but in this time of peace, he still had not seen combat. He had seen something else though.

Dryas had seen the eleven ambassadorial troop. Led by King, er, whats his face, he didn't pay to much attention to knife ear politics. There was a long line of elf militia surrounding other elves in thin silken robes. In the sunlight, at the right angle, you could clearly see their bare body outlined in the shadow of the pale wisps. He stood at attention as they passed. The guard to his side nudged him and gave him a smirk.

"Tyrne, You will get us killed." Dryas muttered under his breath. He was always pushing the envelope of what guards were allowed to do. The Captain had reprimanded both of them several times, and had given them strict orders to do absolutely nothing today except stand at attention.

Yet, when he muttered, one of the elves in the delegation looked up at them from under her robes. Damn she was pretty. Dryas gulped, Tryne stood silently back to attention. She looked at Dryas curiously and made him feel very awkward. He tried to pretend he didn't say anything, but it wasn't working. Finally, when he felt that only she could see him, and no one else, he gave a wink.

She smiled and winked back, then looked away.

"You dog you."

"Tyrne, shut the fuck up."

Nothing else of note occurred during the entrance of the elf troop. They were led to the guest quarter of the castle and the guards were ordered not to allow anyone to enter than area under pain of death, including other guards.

"You think she was a horny princess?" Tryne asked once they were alone. They guarded the back entrance to the guest quarter. It had been many hours alone already. The sun was down and the hallway was dark and narrow. It used to spook him, but he had gotten used to it. "Or maybe a handmaiden? Ohh! Maybe a maid! They brought their own guards, maybe they brought their own maids!"

"Tyrne, we aren't supposed to be talking."

"Never stopped you before."

"The Captain said one more fuck up and I'm on probation."

"Doesn't mean we can't talk. It's one hallway mate. No one is sneaking up on us." He didn't have a good answer to that. Tryne continued, "I hear they got knives down there too."

"Hmm?"

"You know. Their ears are pointy, but their pointy down bellow too. That's why they live so long. Because doing the dirty hurts so much, they got to compensate for the lack of children." He sniggered.

"That hardly seemed accurate." Dryas tried to keep a strait face, he knew it was a joke.

"Just imagine, between those sycamore stems they call legs, under that gorgeous, plumb, fertile, plum shaped ass you expect to find the dribbling sap of want from a moist, honeyed pot! You find instead lips made of sharpened steel! Like a bear trap! Or a fishing hook!"

Dryas failed to hold in his laughter.

"I think I even heard some clanking as they walked, didn't you?"

"Gods," he snorted,

"They hold on to ya, and make sure you can't pull out." he continued, being very visual with his hands, "Cause you know how elf men love to pull out. Damn cowards. The women had to adapt!" Dryas was openly chuckling now, "You have to be a veritable locksmith in order to keep yourself safe. Maybe that's why so many thief's are knife ears!" Dryas shook his head, it was so wrong. "And that's why their leadership is so dickless! Because they lost it in the marriage-"

The doors behind them clicked open and Dryas turned curiously. That was door to the guest quarter. It opened slowly and Dryas's eyes went from surprise, to worry, to surprise again. His chuckles died down as he saw an elf looking at him from under her white hood. It was the one he had winked at before. He looked to her, then Tryne, then quickly stood at attention and gave a short bow, "M-My lady!" She was some sort of noble born, he surmised. Tryne followed suit.

"Dryas?" She asked. "I presume?" her voice was like a muffled harp. Each syllable was a whispered note and her sentence was a song. She was calm and knowing, like a mother might be, but discrete as if she were a confidant. He looked up to see her face, both beautiful and alien. Her blue eyes flicked red in the lantern light. Her pale skin was the color of sunset in the fire, "I'm sorry, did I surprise you?"

"We- ah-" Dryas blinked and tried to gather his thoughts, "We were not expecting anyone to use this entrance my lady elf."

"Oh." She mused, "So, you didn't her my clanking then when I approached?" He gulped. So she had heard all of that. "Dryas." She said again, "If you might be so bold, could you come with me?"

Dryas had been told no fuckups, but this was starting to look like a full diplomatic travesty. He looked to Tryne. He gave a nod of understanding. He'd cover for him somehow. Dryas answered, "Of course my lady elf."

She stepped back, waiting for him to enter the Elf Quarter. This was highly unusual, but he felt that this is what he would have to do to atone. He was silent and discrete, following her suit. Then she held his gloved hand and led him, swiftly, but still silently through the halls. Eventually she turned them both into a small room and closed the door behind them. It was a broom closet. Thin trails of light entered from the ribs of the door, and there was just enough room for them both to stand.

"My lady Elf, I do not understa-" her hands went to his helmet, pulled his down to her level, and she kissed him. She was strong for someone so small, and lightweight to the point that when she pulled him down, she was nearly weightless on her toes. He tasted her. She was bitter like bark, but with a hint of sweetness like a maple sap. She finished with a supple peck, removed his helmet, and disrobed.

Her silken garb fell and revealed in the dim light a body covered by circlets and beads, but nothing else. The jewelry acted to frame her body and it's virtues, not to hide them. She seemed dressed like a whore from the southern isles, but a high class one to be sure. Yet her body and temperament was one of nobility and grace.

"Well, Man?" She addressed him, "Guardian of the Capital," she wove her fingers through his hair, "Are you going to go all the way with me," her other hand rummaged for his belt, "Or will you pull out like an elf?" she whispered the taunt into his ear.

He wasn't sure who she was. Perhaps a concubine of the king, or a rebellious daughter. Perhaps some cleric to an elf god of useless slutty armor. He didn't care. He grabbed her in his arms and took her, he needed no more hints, no more doubts. She was right, the only way out was through.

"Oh!" She coo'ed as he lifted her and kissed her, invading her soft lips with his tongue. She seemed quite passive, but after a few moments of touching and kissing he began to realize that pieces of his armor were falling off. She was disrobing him, his greaves, gauntlets, trousers, helmet, were all gone already without him noticing. Where does one learn to untie knots with their toes? She pulled away his chain shirt and and they met flesh to flesh. She seemed to go wild at that. Her body was colder than his, but not for long. She began to heat up and blush as he grabbed her haunches and breast. "Wait!" She said and he paused. They were silent. Her hair was disheveled across her stunning blue eyes, her finger was on his lips.

Outside he heard footsteps. An elf guard passed them in the hallway on patrol. Not until he was many seconds out of earshot did the lady elf say, "Good, now, where were we?"

Dryas grabbed her bear trap and she moaned. There was no steel or hooks, but he did find it hard to tear himself away. She was relaxed, open, inviting, and a brave finger risked the journey inside as he made love to her mouth. "Dryas!" She moaned into his mouth. "So forceful~" she smiled.

He moved his hand to her rear again, and began to lower her onto him. He felt the tip of his sex breach the walls of hers. "Ohh~!" She cried out so loud that he worried a guard would hear. She muffed her face with her hands, "HMPH!" She breathed as she melted around his cock. Every heartbeat seemed to cause a shiver from the helpless, mewling elf. She held him tight with her legs, she looked apt to give into her pleasure at any second. "I'm yours~" she coo'ed and sang, like she was speaking out the jingle to a merchants shop, "Take it all human, treat me like your slave!"

He lifted and lowered her onto his pulsing lance and he saw her face contort and change. The civility and grace was cracking. The pale, cool facade of courtship was falling apart in favor of an animal impulse to breed. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was gaping. She hardly resembled the delicate, ghostly creature of before. "Is this what you want?" he growled, "You want to be fucked?" he pounded her. She bounced on his cock. "I always thought all you elf girls were sluts," He slapped her ass.

"Dryas! Dryas!" she couldn't hardly keep from groaning. She was close to the brink. She liked the dirty talk. "More! Give me more!"

"You whore," with one hand he held her mouth open with a thumb pressing between her teeth. With the other he tightened his grip on her bum, lifting his middle finger up and into her backside. He hooked her ass and pulled on it, then relaxed to let her sink on his cock again. "Elves wont do this to you, will they?" He sank his member deep into her with each thrust and pounded her pussy without remorse, pulling her up by her asshole each time.

"Ahh~!" She could hold back. She was panting like a bitch, he moved his thumb to let her speak, "I'm, I'm," She grinned and her lungs growled with hunger, "I'm a slave to your human cock," her eyes rolled up, "Gah!" She called out as he fucked her mouth with his hand again. "Gah! Gah! HaAaAaA!" She gripped him tight with her arms and legs, like vines clinging to a stone statue, and she shook like a wind whipped leaf in a hurricane. "Dryas, I'm,"

He felt it too and gave the ambassador a taste of human hospitality. He came inside her and he felt her quiver with desire as the sensation. She somehow clenched even tighter, as if she refused to let any of the precious gift drip to the floor. She cried out into his chest and humped and grunted low like a creature in heat. Finally, with a final chirp of satisfaction, she relaxed and she settled into a shallow panting breath. She was slowing down and relaxing. "Dryas," She looked up at him lovingly, her hair wet and out of place across her face. She caressed his cheek, "That was-"

The door to the closet opened. Dryas turned and saw the elf king himself standing there, guards to either side.

Dryas was dead. He was deader than dead. He was going to be fired, crucified, and his family would never live down the shame. The king's eyes were at first filled with surprise, then rage, then, strangely, he seemed confused and appalled, "G-" He started, "Grandma?"

"Honey," she said to the king, "It's only natural. No need to be upset. Now please, if you could give us some privacy," Dryas looked to her, then him, then her again. She gave a wry smile, reached for the door with her foot while still hugging his hip with the other, and closed it again with her toes. Then she turned to Dryas as it clicked shut, her family still stunned outside, "Ready for another round?"