Queen Yavara Ch. 04

"It always has to be a fight with you." I grimaced as I punished her with my driving hips.

"I was going to make sweet love to you until you stuck a hand inside me." Prestira sneered.

"We've never made love Prestira; every fuck we've ever had turned into combat."

"You know you fucking love it." Prestira moaned as I continued to pump into her, my ass smacking the wall, my cock hitting her bottom. I managed to wrestle her to the bed, but my attempt to pin her was in vain. She whipped us around, straddling atop me like I was a beast to ride, her curly hair a disheveled curtain before a challenging, open-mouthed grin. She grinded her pubis down, taking every inch of me with ease, her nether lips sucking about my length as she rotated her hips to stir her insides. I groaned, lost for a moment in the sensations she generously provided. I shouldn't have left my guard down. She pressed herself against me, her tits squishing against my chest, her evil smile shining above me. She grabbed my hands and held them behind my head before biting down hard on my left nipple. I grunted in pain, a flash of anger scorching through me. I wrestled myself from her grip and grabbed her by the throat, squeezing until I could hear Prestira's constricted whimpers choking from her narrowed windpipe.

"You fucking faggot!" She managed to hiss. I slapped her until it looked like she was wearing blush. She cried out delightedly with every strike, her tears mixing with her eye shadow as it ran down her face, her black curly hair a chaotic mess, her pussy gripping me like a vice, milking my shaft with the rolls of her muscles.

"Is that all you got Zander?" She squeaked above my choking hand, "You've grown soft, old man. It's all that time you spend with the elves. Maybe I should teach your lady friend a thing or two when she comes up here."

Prestira knew that would push me over the edge, and it did. I grabbed a mess of her hair and yanked back, forcing her face to the ceiling, a few strands of curls falling from my hands. Prestira screamed with the exhilaration of it, her pussy clenching around me. I grabbed her right breast with my free hand, deforming the supple meat between gripping fingers.

"That's it, Zander!" Prestira gasped, her hips grinding violently, her belly flexing, "If you want me to help you, you're going to have to persuade me!"

I picked her up and pushed her on the table, driving her face into the wood as I took her from behind. Her ass molded to my pelvis, the puffy warmth pressing as she grinded against my linear attack. The table shook violently, the dishes and papers flying off it. Prestira raised a hand and shot a spell from her fingertips. My arms were forced behind my back, and Prestira spun her body around leg-over-leg, and sunk her nails into my chest. I roared, the pain only accentuating the raging pleasure within her, the wild look in her eyes kindling old excitements. I countered her binding spell, and shot one of my own. Two chains descended from the ceiling and two from the floor, wrapping themselves around her arms and legs and pulling her spread-eagle. I conjured a whip in my hand and draped it threateningly across her shoulder. Prestira bit her lip with excitement, nodding fervently for me to continue. She cried out as a thin welt appeared on each breast, then across her torso, then wrapping around her thighs to strike her buttocks, the pale flesh rippling about the cord.

"Yes! Yes!Yes!" She cried, her body undulating in its constraints, her insides seizing around me, sucking me into her tender heat. She stopped the fifth blow mid-strike, her left index finger pointing the spell above her shackled wrist. The whip rapidly wrapped around my own throat, and constricted. It became harder for me to breathe with each passing second, and though my lungs burned for air, the feeling of Prestira sheathed around me intensified. Her eyes grew wild as she squeezed the whip tighter around my throat, a primal desire to kill and fuck etched across her face. I savored that expression for a moment longer, then disintegrated the whip. She tried a fish-hooking spell, but I was too fast. I spun the chains that bound her, crossing them over each other until she was hogtied, her hands and feet tied together behind her back, her fingers entwined so that she couldn't cast a spell, rendering her completely vulnerable. I admired the sight of her wrapped in chains and draped across the table, struggling to free herself, struggling to fight the pleasure I wrought with my brutal drives, the pleasure that would be her undoing.

"I should get the orc to come help you out, Zander; you've lost your touch!" Prestira shouted back through her moans, her lithe back muscles straining against the chains.

"Shut the fuck up." A gag-ball wrapped around her face and forced its way between her teeth. I grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled her head backwards, making her to look me in the eye while I had my way with her. Her eyes warped with pleasure and wrath, the ball in her mouth leaked with saliva, muffled screams emanating from it. I kept my grip with one hand and grabbed a nipple with the other, squeezing between my thumb and index finger.

"You got these pierced, huh? Damn shame you didn't leave the rings in; guess I'll have to fix that."

A small gold chain materialized between Prestira's breasts, connected to each nipple by a ringed piercing. Prestira's eyes widened as I conjured a bell weight on the chain, her small breasts stretching slightly. She shook her head frantically when I added another weight, her nipples extending to conical points, her cunt coiling around me in gratitude.

"One more?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

Prestira twisted in protest, but her eyes begged for it. I added another weight. A stifled scream escaped her mouth as she pushed back against me, her back twitching along the elegant bow of her spine, saliva dripping down her chin from around the ball.

"One more?" I whispered into her ear. She looked back at me, her face full of surrender. She didn't protest this time, but nodded compliantly. I added the last weight. Prestira arched her back as the sensation took hold of her, the weights clanking together as her body shook with my thrusts. I removed the weights from her chain, and her breasts bounced back in response, the tension snapping in her form. She mewled around her gag, her eyes softening as they looked up at me, full of surrender. She grinded into me gratefully, her motions only for me, graceful and generous. I could feel the pressure in my loins beginning to build. Prestira was contracting around me, her vaginal muscles flexing, her legs shaking with spasms of ecstasy that shot from her pelvis. I let the ball from her mouth loose to hear a string of profanity blast from her lips.

"Say it." I whispered into her ear, pumping so hard her pelvis bounced off crotch, the reverberations of my impact rippling deep in her clenching cunt.

She gazed from racoon eyes, the liner smeared down her cheeks, a portrait of lecherous defeat.

"Say it." I hissed.

Her red lips parted, each breath a labor of ecstasy, each exhalation a cry. "You win!" She mewled, her expression supplicant and lustful, "Now fuck me like you hate me!"

I removed the chain that bound her ankles to her wrists, spread her legs, and held her upright against me, her bound hands forced upward behind my head by the chain that hung from the ceiling. Prestira's back arched against me, her chest jutting forth to display her breasts, jiggling in a circular dance as I drove into her. She tilted her moaning face and pressed her mouth to mine, her tongue wrestling with my own, trying to gain a small victory in her lustful defeat. I wouldn't yield even a small concession, and I pulled her head from mine with a yank of her hair, and plunged my tongue into her mouth. With a final whimper, Prestira surrendered to me completely. I watched our brutal joining from the mirror on the wall. My cock was a piston, her swollen pink labia pulling outward with my retreat, only to be sucked back in with my thrust. I pressed her against the mirror, her breath fogging the glass as her tits squished against it.

"Look at yourself, Prestira, what do you see?"

"A dirty little slut getting what she deserves!" Prestira cried, the orgasm building within her.

I pressed my lips to her ear. "Now kiss that dirty little slut."

Prestira tongued her reflection, her eyes closed in bliss as though the mirror was kissing back. The image of my defiant lover reduced to such a lowly state pushed me over the edge. I felt the pressure in my loins build past the point of no return, and I drove my last powerful thrusts into her, forcing her whole body to flatten against the mirror. Prestira panted like a bitch, fogging the glass before letting out a scream. I erupted inside of her. Our voices rang throughout the room as the last throes of our orgasm took hold of us, turning us into heaving beasts; wild eyes and gaping mouths, violence, power, and passion.

Once our duet of perversion subsided, I removed the chains that bound Prestira. She collapsed on all fours, one of her legs still twitching, my seed leaking down her thighs. When she gained her composure, the witch stood up and adjusted herself in the mirror, smiling at me in the reflection without a hint of the challenge she'd showed me before. It was like she was a different woman completely; companionable, gentle and warm, but I knew better. She winked at me as though she read my mind (and she might have), and limped to the table to pull out a long, thin pipe. She packed the bowl with tobacco and took a drag, her body sinking languidly into her chair. "God, I needed that, Zander. No one fucks quite like a wizard."

"I imagine your need for combative sex is hard to fill when you're the most powerful being in the city." I mused.

Prestira sighed. "I've tried handicapping myself, but it feels like I'm just pretending."

"You could always try fucking like a normal person."

Prestira laughed. "That's soboring Zander. Sex is a power game, and I don't want a teammate; I want a competitor."

I sat back and drew my own pipe, lighting and inhaling deeply. "You're a twisted individual."

Prestira smiled back, her disheveled hair hanging in strands in front of her face. "That's rich coming from you."

She conjured a silver cloak around her naked body. It was a draping garment that she left open to the pelvis, exposing her lithe torso, and the inner portions of her breasts. She took a dramatic drag from her pipe, then turned her attention to me.

"This one you brought me, she's different than the others." Prestira spoke in a professional tone now.

"She has more potential than any of them." I nodded, "She may be even better than Alkandi herself."

"I can see her right now, through that door." Prestira inclined her head, "She's absolutely glowing with power. And my, my, Zander, she is beautiful. Did you fall in love with this one?" Prestira asked, her tone a little too jealous for my liking.

"I loved all of Alkandi's incarnations, but I've never repeated my mistake. I will never bein love again."

"You fucked her." Prestira mused.

"I fucked you too."

A pained expression crossed her face, causing a ball of guilt to form in my stomach. "Alkandi never loved you the same way you loved her." She said softly, "You've been paying for the unrequitedness of a dead woman your whole life."

"I know."

A somber silence filled the room. There was a history between us that could fill a library, but I feared that story was over. Alkandi was an albatross around my neck, that I would not be relieved of it until my death, or until the Dark Queen sat upon her throne. It was only yesterday that I thought I might be freed by the latter method.

"Well," Prestira said, breaking the silence and flicking the ashes from her pipe. "let's see her."

I opened the door and was greeted with thunderous applause. The bar was packed to the brim with patrons, all of them clapping and cheering as Prestira and I walked down the stairs. Brock was beaming from ear to ear, and Yavara was crying with laughter.

I looked at Prestira, who simply shrugged her shoulders. "Times have been rough. I saw an opportunity, and I took it."

"What?!"

"That mirror you so chivalrously made me lick is enchanted, and its twin hangs right above the bar." Prestira smirked unapologetically at me, "I put a little muting spell on my door so that you wouldn't hear the raucous, and I took advantage of your... infamous temper. I advertised the event this morning: 'The Sorcerous of Ardeni Dreus verses the Wizard of the Great Forest.' And look how packed this place is; I must have made a fortune!"

My face flushed. "I want half your profits." I growled.

Prestira laughed and slapped me teasingly, "You get my services for free, that's your payment. Besides, you'll never have to buy a drink in this town again. I'm somewhat of a minor celebrity here, and you get to be the guy that conquered me in front of half the city. Bravo, by the way. Your performance did not disappoint."

I grabbed Prestira by the arm and forced her gaze to mine. "Tell me you turned the enchantment off before we had our little talk."

Prestira just smiled back. "Of course, Zander; who do you think I am?"

We walked into the bar as the patrons crowded around us. I received congratulations and pats on the back from damn near everyone; one little goblin even wanted my autograph. We made our way to Brock and Yavara, who were both noticeably drunk. Brock was telling everyone who would listen that he knew me, and that he once stuck his fingers up my ass. Yavara was chatting up a couple human males who were hinging on her every word, one of them with his hand planted firmly on her backside.

"Brock!" I yelled over the crowd. Brock whipped his head around and pointed a finger at me.

"There he is! These fingers-" Brock drunkenly held up his hands, "-were in his ass. See, me and him were plowing into this girl, right, and old Zander over here was passing out. So, the girl -this girl right here, actually-," Brock finally noticed that Yavara was being groped, and casually swatted the human, forcing him off his feet and crashing into a table. Brock continued his tale without a missed beat. "This girl tells me old Zander is having a fucking aneurysm! So, I'm conflicted here, because Zander is probably going to die soon, but I'm balls deep in this fine piece of ass. There's no way I'm pulling out and running into the woods for some willow bark before I finish, so I do the only thing I can do, and try to shock him out of it. I take my fingers, and drill both my hands into Zander's ass, and I tell ya, it was like the old fucker got hit by lightning. I mean he jolted up so hard he damn near split the poor girl in half!"

Brock slapped his knee before the roaring laughter of his audience, while Yavara gave me a pouty face as the humans who were groping her ran in terror from the orc.

"Why can't I have any fun?" She said, her words slurring, "You were up there putting on a show for everyone, and I'm down here with no one to play with."

"I'm not your dad, Yavara, but I do need to protect you. Once you gain your abilities to protect yourself, you can fuck your way through the whole city for all I care. Right now, we need to get you upstairs with Prestira, so come on."

I hoisted Yavara up and supported her as we walked up the stairs, Prestira following behind. Brock stayed in the bar, a sizeable audience forming around him as he embellished a few more of his tales. Prestira closed the door behind us, the roaring sound of the bar muting with the pull of the latch. Yavara plopped onto a pillow laid on the floor, and Prestira sat cross-legged before her. The two women studied each other, though I daresay Prestira did it with a bit more tact. While Prestira gaged Yavara with a calculated gaze, Yavara swayed drunkenly on her pillow, her eyes running unabashedly up the exposed length of Prestira's belly.

"You're really pretty, Prestira." Yavara slurred, ogling the inner portion of the witch's breasts, "I really like the way you do sex; you should teach me sometime."

Prestira smiled back at Yavara and gave her a glass. "Drink this, Yavara. As cute as you are when you're drunk, we need you sober right now."

"When Zander pressed you against the glass," Yavara whispered, leaning close to Prestira's face, her body tilting precariously, "I started to touch myself."

Prestira tittered and guided the drink to Yavara's lips. Yavara reluctantly drank the potion, her body straightening as drunkenness left her.

"You can remove her disguise, Zander. I need to look into her real eyes." Prestira said to me.

I touched a finger to Yavara's ear. Her rounded ear became pointed, and her green irises changed to orange. Prestira gazed into Yavara's eyes, scanning them thoughtfully. Yavara stared back, her composure apprehensive.

"You have great potential, Yavara." Prestira said softly, "I've never seen a being with as much power coursing through them as you. Zander has brought five of you to me in the past, all of them very powerful. None of them had what you have. I guess my question is, what do you want to do with it?"

Yavara shifted in her seat. "I want to sit on the Black Throne."

Prestira glanced knowingly at me, then turned back to Yavara. "That's certainly what Zander wants you to do."

"It's what I want as well."

Prestira regarded her for a moment. "If you raise all the banners of the Great Forest, and you march for the vengeance of ancient contraventions, you will have no allies to call upon, Yavara. You would fight alone. You would fight against me."

Yavara straightened and spoke with conviction. "It is true that I need an army to defend my claim, but I will claim the Great Forest and nothing more. I will trade with Ardeni Dreus while amassing a defensive force to the west to hold off the Highland onslaught until they tire of battle and sit down at the negotiating table. I will make them the aggressor, and me the sympathetic victim of elven imperialism."

Prestira searched Yavara's eyes, reading more than just the young elf's expression. "I believe you do not seek conquest, but your birthright will not be given easily. The Highlands will be merciless, and your army will want to go on the offensive. You will have to convince a force of testosterone-driven monsters to act against their nature, and hold a line. I believe you can do it, but you will need my help first. So, let's begin."

Yavara sat upright, eager to learn. Prestira gently took Yavara's hand into her own and traced the line on Yavara's palm. Yavara looked at me with a confused expression, and I simply nodded my head toward Prestira. She refocused her attention on the witch, whose white irises were now rolled back into her head, the sclera glowing a slight yellow.

"You have five natural arcane abilities, Yavara." Prestira's voice was hypnotic, "Telekinesis, the ability to manipulate matter with your mind; inferno, the ability to produce flame from your palms; indoctrination, the ability to control minds; and healing, which is self-explanatory. There is one power that I don't recognize... a transformative power? But not of yourself. Curious. The elves are looking for their lost princess in every corner of the world, and you need to stay hidden. I think the most useful ability to learn at this moment is indoctrination. What do you think?" Prestira's eyes rolled forward, the glow receding from the edges.

Yavara nodded readily.

"Good," Prestira smiled, producing a small cage, "I have here, three mice. I will indoctrinate one, afterwards I will explain how I did it. When I am done, you will attempt to do the same on another. Don't be discouraged if you fail; it takes most people decades to learn such a craft, but you are born with it. We just need to unlock it."