Melehan & Morvith

All of the sudden the Orc's hands grabbed her vast globes of titflesh and squeezed like a madman. "HNNNNGH! Kokar fuck fuck fuck!" His muscular body convulsed over hers and she was crushed to his barbaric chest as her lithe legs wrapped around his thick waist. She came again and squirted all over his veiny Orcish weapon as blast after blast of the greenskin's seed jetted into her welcoming womb.

Each strand of his potent essence was thicker and more hot than any man she'd soul sucked before and it was then the heartless witch knew something else was afoot. Orgasmic gasps ripped forth from her voluptuous lips and her head was alight with the blaze of carnal euphoria. The warm sensation of the Orc's seed seemed to spread further than was possible, reaching up past her belly, down her legs and even crawling up around her heaving breasts!

The Orc had a dumb grin on his face and then fell away from her into the dirt, utterly spent, his rut complete. Once the warmth reached her head, her body shook and bucked in ecstasy. Her giant breasts wobbled from side to side within her smothering outfit and her legs spasmed as if her whole body had been penetrated.

Her bright lilac eyes rolled back into her sockets and drool streamed from her supple mouth as her mind and soul were cooked with overwhelming pleasure. "Ohhhhhh fuck... fuck fuck FUCK!" she moaned and steam rose from the twin glistening mounds of her shuddering bosom. She had felt this sensation only once before in her life: the day she turned to darkness.

This time, instead of thoughts of evil, erotic devilry, carnal torture and sadism and staining purity her sentiments were far more provincial: to fuck and fuck some more and to kill anyone who got in her way of propagating the Orcish horde. She was delighted with the simplicity of this new purpose and surrendered to it as every inch of her body sizzled with erotic stimulation.

Her skin burned as hot as her skull, her bones like molten lava as orgasm after orgasm battered her into mind numbing submission. Her long legs spread wide as they jerked to her unnatural ecstasy, tearing at the high sheen black silks that caressed her thighs. Her fingers curled so hard against her palms that she drew blood, her euphoric moans of sexual surrender like some crazed mating song.

All that blazed within her dreams was want of a manhood and hot seed. Needs like food and sadistic whippings crumbled to ash in the flames of her new desires. She felt her saliva drenched lips scrape against something hard and glossy. She gasped in delight when she realized it was her new pair of Orcish tusks.

Her lush hips and fleshy ass cheeks bucked and bounced against her restraints and the pole. Aggressive and lustful, her motions bespoke of a deep and abiding need for penetration. A howl of triumph and strident pleasure burst from her plump lips as she felt her shoulders broaden and her restraints snap, her freedom coinciding with another body flattening climax.

Her eyes were thrown for a bout of disorientation as the ground grew more distant before her eyes, her height now towering and amazonian. She arched her back defiantly, and her titanic bosom pressed forward against her tight ebon silks. Spectacular breasts ripped free from her outfit and out spilled the round flesh of her emerald melons, like gigantic upturned green teardrops crowned with even darker green nipples. "Fuck fuck!" she screamed and came again. She stumbled to her knees, overloaded with erotic stimulation as her eyes took in her new jade complexion.

Melehan strangled the last drum player and his face blanched when he saw the new Krela. "Oh... this is new." He stepped over the greenskin's corpse and came into the firelight. He tilted his head at her, trying to find any old familiarity in her features. Slight tusks rose from her jaw and he was greeted with the improbable sight of a woman with voluptuous green peaks larger than even the witches of the Black Moon and with the hard, sculpted curves of an eastern barbarian she-warrior.

As she got back on her feet his pulse pounded when he saw the luscious round domes of her glistening ass. Her soft and bulbous emerald cheeks beckoned him to tackle and mount her and not stop until his lusts had cooled. When she looked to him, the same dullness he had seen in the Orc men now filled her gaze. "Fuck fuck..." she slurred and jiggled her colossal breasts, so plentiful and plump, heavy and green, Melehan's fingers ached to hold them like the treasures they were.

Before he could indulge himself, Kokar leapt up to his feet and brandished his club. "No fuck him! Mama Dark's son, too dark!" Melehan collected his wits and drew up his sword as the brute swung his club. "Kill kill!" shouted the Orc as he connected a savage blow against the prince's blade, the swing sending a devastating shock through the dark lord's armor and flesh..

Melehan blocked another blow and knew he could not do it a third time. His hands were numb and his shoulders and bones were rattled as much as he could bear. In one sudden movement he distracted the green savage with a sweeping feint of his sword and then loosed his dagger under the brute's guard, plunging up underneath the Orc's throat while his club swung for his blade.

The prince grinned as Kokar fumbled backwards, clutching his spewing throat in a futile rage. Now was no time for a celebration however. From the surrounding forest he saw multiple lines of torch light, clubs and axes in the air, each one hooting a barbaric and bloodthirsty chant. He backed away from the chieftain's corpse and spared a look over his shoulder at the new dim faced Krela.

His mouth watered at her ripe and heaving green melons, their enormous round size forming a juicy chasm of emerald cleavage, even without benefit of a bra. His last glimpse was of Krela motioning to the Orcish reinforcements. Her swooping hips were turned to the side as she screamed for them to kill the prince, her high and thick ass cheeks jiggling to her outrage, taunting him with their softness as he ran into the woods...

***

Morvith stood watch over the chapel as confession boxes were set up at the ends of the pews. Mother Vera had given him free reign in places of worship in honor of his position as Paladin, but little else. Which suited him just fine. All he needed was this opening.

And a volunteer. Someone to demonstrate that the boxes worked without arousing suspiscion. He turned to the source of the tugging on his luxuriant cloak. His smile was bright and charming as he beheld the young nun at his side. "Yes Sister, what is it?"

The girl was flustered, petite and virginal but no great beauty to die over. She would make the perfect... volunteer. "I'm uh- Annette! Sister Annette and ah... you're the first Paladin we've seen in ages- that I've seen ever- there was another one who went to fight the Queen in the capital, but that was long ago." She stuttered and lost focus under Morvith's piercing and silent gaze. "A-anyway! I was... wondering. What... what has His Holiness shown you? I mean does he show different things to Paladins than he does to us?"

He rose her hand to his lips and kissed like a gentlemen, making her blush like a tomato. "That is a delightful question." he whispered and brought her close, more intimate than holy servants ought to be. "Why don't I show you?" He pulled away and tilted his chiseled face to the side, a slight smirk on his lips, "Sister Darrow, if you please."

The one and only Darrow emerged from the shadows behind Morvith, walking with primal grace, swaying her mesmerizing hips from side to side, her eyes cool like diamonds but simmering with animalistic lust. Sister Annette seized up in righteous terror at Darrow's countenance. Never before had she seen a woman made so radiant through the love of His Holiness.

Though she did think it odd that Mother Vera, for all her devotion, did not demonstrate similar beauty. The way Darrow's huge swells of ivory flesh jiggled and shook to her stride, the beads of her black cross tracing tightly into her mile of tight, copious cleavage, all served to stoke Annette's envy. Perhaps the Sister would teach her? Perhaps she would teach the whole convent and Mother Vera too?

Her mind swam with possibilities as Darrow's eyes swam with desire.

The woman's low cut habit strained to contain the protruding peaks of her bosom, bouncing mightily with each step as if supported by invisible hands. Her hourglass figure stretched the lower parts of her habit just as her waist length platinum blonde tresses clashed against the black, brimming with supernatural holy light.

Annette felt a spur of unease watching how shadows seemed to writhe and coil beneath the woman's hair but figured the greater the light, the greater the shadow cast. Her intuition was further alarmed on how close Sister Darrow took herself to the brink obscenity, the lower half of her habit more like a skirt, so high up it barely covered the jutting cheeks of her voluptuous bottom. Annette wondered when the woman changed into the unorthodox outfit. Its tight black cloth was losing the battle to hold onto her creamy cheeks, surrendering its hold on her round, plump flesh, inch by inch.

Morvith's voice broke her out of her consternation. "This is Sister Annette... show her how much His Holiness means to us."

Darrow smiled. "By all means. Come little one." Annette was shy in extending her hand, but that was all it took. Darrow's hand darted out like a viper's strike, pulling the young woman against her voluptuous body. "Let me show you the shadows that lurk within us all..." she whispered.

Annette knew something was wrong now but it was much too late. She quailed and struggled but Darrow's hands only dug into her ass and dragged her into the shadows behind Morvith, silencing her protests with a long kiss on the lips, a tongue in the mouth.

Morvith paid little nods to other nuns of the convent as they walked by, who regarded the writhing and groped backside of one of their own in the shadows as odd, the sound of kissing and gasps strange, but so were their visitors and none thought it so offensive to bring it up with the Paladin.

The dark prince knew he might hear about it in the morning, if the rumors carried fast enough. But by then... rumors wouldn't matter.

Annette, locked within Darrow's arms, felt the treacherous nun's hands pulling her own onto the nubile harlot's body. As Annette's hands felt the smooth ivory skin beneath the habit she moaned, her fingers instinctively swooping up to cup Darrow's heavy endowments. Their round shape quickly spilled into her palm and the young nun wondered how anything that felt so good could belong to one who so profaned her lord.

The wonder however, was not to last. As she squeezed Darrow's pale, ample mounds, she felt the Sister rip away the cloth covering her groin, exposing her little pink flower. Darrow too, brought her own pussy to bear and their womanhoods grinded and kissed, Darrow's sensual whispers of dark prophecy bringing a lustful shiver to the young nun's body.

Her breath quickened as she fell deeper into her enthrallment, the feel of Darrow's exquisite flesh and the flow of her feminine globes in between her fingers almost too much to bear. She broke away from the dark nun's lips just once, to look upon her visage.

It was the very image of terror and desire. With her glamor down, Annette bore witness to dark shadows writhing underneath Darrow's fair skin, a crown of flesh toned horns rising from her forehead and enchanting yellow eyes that pulsed with a timeless, surreal light.

The air left her lungs and Annette's lips parted in awe, completely lost in Darrow's perverse wonder and irresistibly doomed to succumb to it. Her mouth twitched into a strange smile, her mind mired in the pleasurable wrongness of what she felt. With a drawn out sigh her body surrendered to the drowning ecstasy of what she would become.

The pale and warm flesh of Sister Darrow's immense tits poured between her fingers, her senses addicted to such satiny smooth skin against her own. Low moans of content reached from her lips as she heard Darrow's seductive whispers. Words of treachery and betrayal, of lustful destruction and rebirth basked in her unknowing mind. And Annette, unseasoned against the heresies of the world, took them in like water to a sponge.

Her moistened thighs shook mercilessly, her soft belly writhed to dark thrills and her perky breasts rose to aroused points. With a moan of surrender she slumped further into Darrow's grasp. Her delicate face fell into the wicked nun's mammoth swell of ivory cleavage, the succulent breast flesh molding against the young nun's face while Darrow's perfumes further seduced her senses.

From within Darrow's rosy folds something dark stirred and writhed with evil life, eager to corrupt the purity in its grasp. And deep between their legs, between predator and prey, a union was made, made of the purest essence of evil. Annette sighed and trembled as she held her new mentor close.

The darkness poured in.

***

Melehan rested in the light of the moon in the Elven forest ruins. He was still catching his breath and stretching his fingers when he heard a voice like rain in the winter winds. "That was very brave of you." the voice said, and Melehan's eyes darted to every dark corner for ambush. "But you'll need to strike deeper in their territory to rid the forest of the Orcs."

Before he could snarl in reply the woman came out, like a walking dream. Her ethereal dress glowed like bluish silver and her hair ran like pale gold down her shoulders, caressing a set of breasts that made the dark prince salivate. Round and protruding, her luscious flesh had a heavenly glow about it and he ached to have one of those pouting mountains of femininity in his mouth.

"I am Sabis and I'm-"

"An Elf." finished Melehan, pointing to her pointed ears. He stood up and regarded her untouched purity with malevolent intent. "I am Prince-"

"Melehan, Son of Queen Morgana." the Elf said, smiling. "I know who you are."

Melehan laughed and stepped closer to her. "Well then wise Elf, you would know it's most unwise to approach a lord of the Black Moon alone."

She came up to Melehan and pressed her full and heavy breasts against his chest. "I know!" she whispered, "I came to surrender myself to you. I'd rather be with Morgana, than be one of them." She tilted her head in the direction of a broken Orc skull lying on the ground.

Melehan stroked his chin. "Interesting. You know I'd imagine it wouldn't be so bad to be them, for a woman anyway. Have you seen how they're built? I may just bring a few into the Queen's fold..."

She pulled away. The way her sizable, glowing breasts bounced within her plunging, translucent dress commanded the prince's attention. "You can't! They no longer have the minds for it... they have minds for nothing but murder and carnal debauchery."

"We have something in common then."

Sabis nodded with a hint of sadness on her face. "After Morgana's rise to power, the Elves were desperate to stem the tide of corruption. Lady Orise proposed we use the forbidden Stone of the Incorruptible. We thought it would turn our warriors into avenging warriors of justice..."

"You fools thought something just and good could spring from something forbidden?"

Tears rolled down Sabis's pink cheeks. "Yes. These were not warriors of justice, but savage killers and obscene women. I watched my mother, a delicate and refined woman turn into a mindless beast, consumed with her desire for men. These Orcish women..." she shuddered, "they don't give birth like any other. They can carry three to four at a time who mature into full warriors in days."

"You introduced a new snake to drive out the old... it's easy to see where they get their breathtaking imbecility from." He grabbed her by the ass and plundered her sweet, soft lips. "But I've had enough of your sob story! I've always wanted to taste Elf!"

Sabis gasped and her ethereal dress fluttered around her curvaceous form, the silvery blue threads obscuring the size and shape of her generous chest. "But I'm not done with my tale! I didn't really intend to surrender!"

Melehan cackled. "Yes you thought you could inspire ME to take pity and kill them all for you. So you came to me dressed like a harlot with no weapons! You people really are too dumb to live."

"Please! I may be the last of my kind!" she cried as the prince's hands swept up her smooth belly, cupping the heavy handfuls of her bosom.

Melehan tore her dress away and evil joy burst in his black heart as he witnessed her ripe and milky breasts wobble free into the moonlight. "So much the better! You'll be a foul wench just like your mother!"

"Noooo!" she wailed. With the sorcerous strength inherited from his dark parentage he tackled her down to the mossy ground. His lips fell upon her round breasts, tasting of her sweet and untainted flesh. Her nipples warmed up to his salacious tongue and a gasp full of outrage and arousal escaped her supple lips.

"You cannot fight the inevitable! You'll bend to the Queen's will like so many others." Her futile struggles stoked his desire. Every weak punch and push with her small hands against his chest only pushed him on to loosen the armor surrounding his groin. "It is... your destiny." His last word was punctuated by the metallic sound of his cod piece hitting the ground, allowing his steaming member to rise like a vile serpent about to defile a holy grove.

With a slow hiss of wicked relish, he sank his cock deep into her tight and unclaimed pussy. Her whimper of excitement was a pleasure all of its own. The warmth of her pussy enlivened the cold blooded prince and he began to thrust mercilessly into her silken depths. He rammed himself deep into her folds. Intoxicated by the wet friction of her inner walls, he grabbed onto her bountiful and smooth lily white tits, his hands shadows against her glowing complexion.

His hands kneaded and squeezed those soft, jiggling mounds, thumbing over marbled pink nipples as ripe and healthy as her slit. Her sweet face was contorted in ecstasy, unused to such masculine ministrations. Melehan groaned from the way her tightness wrapped around his cock, so overtaken by him that the Elven girl had no choice but clamp her flushed and glistening lips against his thrusting shaft.

His inhumanly fast and hard poundings made a sound like a paddle beating on the water as her pussy surrendered to his wicked weapon, their flesh clapping together as her love juices gushed out with each plunge. The Elf girl still clung to her soft and gentle heritage. She was not made for the harsher lovemaking of those outside her land. Orgasm after orgasm had sent her naïve mind into a carnal cloud of confusion, her shapely legs spread high in the air and quivering helplessly in between the dark prince's passionate intrusions.

Drawing on his inherited spellcraft, he focused on his Queen mother's dark soul essence from leagues away and drew it to himself, a channel for her corrupting power. The forest's midnight shadows turned blackish blue. Where the moonlight shone through the waving leaves, the places it shined upon turned pale violet. The vile light began to swirl and move by its own volition, twirling like snow drifts and seeping into the prince's muscular form.

Melehan pressed the Elf woman's heavy and ample tits together as a rising sense of power built within. His Queen's whispers began to hiss by his ears, urging him to seal his victim's fate and destroy the last vestige of purity in the forest. Sabis, for her part, was near unconscious. Drool streamed from the corners of her mouth and her eyes fluttered to Melehan's powerful and hard flesh. Her soft and voluptuous body was caught in a helpless daze from his lusty conquest.