Queen Yavara Ch. 10

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Elena and Brock fend off a pack of wild beasts.
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Part 10 of the 62 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 04/01/2019
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Part Four: Man Eaters

Chapter Ten

ELENA

One breath, then another. Adarian taught me that. 'When you're in the shit, and the world's falling apart around you, just take one breath, then another. The first breath keeps you in the present, and the next brings you to the future. You're still alive; you took the second breath. Congratulations. Now, take another.' Of course, Adarian taught everyone that lesson. Only for most other rangers, it was meant to keep them centered in combat situations. For me, it was social. I didn't realize until my first day of ranger training how much I'd used Yavara as a crutch, and that's when I realized the crutch had crippled me. I sat by myself in the mess hall, isolated myself in the barracks, and went to the library during rest hours. When I was assigned to a squad, I couldn't hide myself anymore. After three panic attacks, Adarian pulled me out. 'One breath, then another.' He told me as I clutched my chest, eyes bulging, my heart pounding. 'Shit, Elena.' He said, 'I've seen you operate under fire without so much as breaking a sweat, but Brian cracks a gay joke and you shatter. No, don't give me that; it's not your fault. It's mine. Most rangers are like wolves, you see; they operate in packs, and the lone wolf dies. But you're not a wolf. Wolves bark and growl and harry herds until they can pick off the weak prey, but the tiger... the tiger stalks the dangerous game in dead silence. Now breathe, tiger, breathe. One breath, then another. I've got some dangerous game for you to chase.'

One breath, then another. The green canopy overhead was broken with beams of sun, giving light to pollen that floated listlessly through the air. I was on my back with an arrow in my shoulder. A Nadi arrow. Adarian's arrow, for only one ranger in the corps had access to Nadi arrows. I didn't think he knew who he was shooting at, for my identity had been concealed. Still, he'd find out eventually, if he was still alive. I glanced at the haft sticking in my shoulder. That certainly was one way to get a dishonorable discharge. I knew I deserved worse. I'd killed one of my brethren; I'd shot him down in the streets. I felt guilty, but not nearly as guilty as I thought I should. For as much as I'd made the rangers a part of my identity, Yavara had defined me for much longer, and of her fate, I did not know. My worry encompassed my guilt, and compelled me to action.

The wound in my shoulder was bloodless, and the petrified flesh it left would be useless. I flexed my hand, or tried to. I couldn't feel my fingers. Shit, I couldn't feel my whole left arm. I glanced at the proximity of the haft to my left breast, where my heart thrummed alive. It could've worse, I guessed. With gritted teeth I reached across my body, and tore the arrow free. No pain, for the nerves were dead. It left a yawning puncture that showed cleanly through the milky fat and pink muscle, bloodless all the way to the bone. If I'd eaten breakfast, I would've lost it there. I rolled to my right, my left arm flopping uselessly after me, and I pushed myself to shaking feet. Across the clearing, Brock had managed to get to a sitting position. He was porcupined with ten arrows, two of them Nadi, but his thick hide kept the arrowheads from doing mechanical damage. Still, the regular arrows had done their work, and black blood dripped down his back in thick rivulets.

"Ranger, you need to show me your secret path to the Gorge. Can you walk?" He asked with a rasping voice.

"We should wait for the others." I murmured.

Brock shook his head. "They won't come. The portal was destroyed on the other side."

"Do you think..."

"Do you still have your powder?"

I reached into my belt and handed Brock the satchel. He took a pinch of the substance and threw it across the ruins. They glowed neon green with magic.

"Zander's still alive," Brock grunted, "and he would die before he let the elves take Yavara, so she's still alive too."

I breathed a sigh of relief, and took one stumbling step. I was hit with a wave of dizziness, the world seeming to rotate about the axis of my heels. I closed my eyes, and took one breath, then another. Centering myself, I opened my eyes, took one step forward, and collapsed on my face. My head beat like a drum, my body ached, the world spun around me. Distantly, I heard Brock saying something. Then his blurred visage thundered next to me, his black eyes unfocused, the pupils dilated. He mouthed something, but I couldn't discern what his tusked lips said. Suck you bitch? Fuck off, Brock. You sack of orc shit. Oh, the grass felt so good against my cheek. And that hand running through my hair, the delicate fingers caressing the roots like a whisper. I turned on my back. She had big violet eyes set in a beautiful face, her purple lips creasing in a hungry smile. Her horns curved demonically from her amber hair, and shined black in the midmorning sun.

I woke up to the night sky greeting me from the mouth of a cave. I reached for my shoulder and felt for the wound. It was gone. I looked at my skin just to make sure. There wasn't even a scratch where an arrow had been buried just a few hours ago. I flexed my hand, and realized with a start that I could move it. Had everything been a dream? Yavara, Brock, Zander, Prestira... no; no, my flesh was bronze, and I felt the piece of man pressing between my thighs. I looked around the cave. It was oddly decorated for a wild dwelling, with pillows everywhere, silk drapes adoring the walls, and velvet rugs laying across the floor. My hand flashed for my dagger in realization, and met my naked hip. My eyes flitted frantically, finding my weapons and clothes resting in the corner, but I knew I'd never get to them in time. I could feel her behind me, feel the enticing warmth of her radiating onto my flesh. Two soft hands descended upon my shoulders. They leaked tenderness into my tired body, relaxing and unwinding the tensed muscles in my back. I fought the sensation for only a moment before I collapsed into blissful lassitude, a stupid smile creasing my lips. The hands lowered me slowly until my naked back pressed into the supple bosom of the succubus. Her arms came around me like a cage door shutting, and I surrendered easily to the imprisonment.

"What's your name?" She had a girlish voice, full of curiosity and desire. It dripped like honey into my ear, and seeped its sweet poison into the annals of my mind.

"Elena."

"What are you, Elena?" Her hands moved down my shoulders. Oh, her touch was like fire, leaving me burning with just a graze.

"A hybrid; a mixture of dark-elf and high-elf."

"A dark-elf?" The succubus prompted as her wonderful hands traced down my torso, "Dark-elves are extinct, Elena."

"The Dark Queen has returned." I mumbled, my eyes fixed on her fingers, and the path they lead.

"That's very interesting." She cooed, not sounding like she believed me, "But what's more interesting, is this fascinating thing between your legs. Why does a she-elf have such a tool?'

"I don't know." I gasped. Her fingers curled around my shaft, and it engorged with blood, curving backward and leaking from its apex. I could barely breathe. The succubus moaned as her fingers worked down my length, her heart racing against my resting head. I could feel her hunger through her flesh, her insatiable desire. It became my hunger, my desire. My breathing came back to me, and it was heavy and long, giving life to a heart that beat against my breast with carnal need. My mind drifted away, lost in a haze, lost in those violet eyes that stared deeply into me.

"Let me go, please!" I choked out.

"Oh, Sweetie," She smiled compassionately, "you're so full of fear and confusion. There's no need for that now. Only pleasure, only joy for the rest of your days."

"Stop." I hissed, fighting her spell with the last of my sanity.

To my surprise, she did stop. Her hand uncurled from my shaft, and slid up my belly. "I am sorry, Elena. It was rude of me to be so impatient with you. I've just never had someone like you before. You're a prize, a gift sent to me from God. I should treat you with the reverence you deserve. Come, lie on your belly. Let me worship you."

I could hardly disobey her. I rolled onto the pillows beside me, guided gently by her hand. Her fingers pressed into my back, expertly sliding knotted muscles apart, easing the congested sinew into a lithe expanse across my spine. I whimpered under her touch, my body turning to a languid puddle, my resolve melting like butter.

"When I found you in the forest, you were such a mess." She whispered, her voice so sweet, "I brought you here and healed you; I was so worried that you wouldn't make it. My little gift from God, and what a package she sent you in!" She giggled girlishly, "A ranger on the brink of death, shot by one of her own kinsmen it seems. No wonder you're so tense! You don't have to worry about them anymore; I'll keep you safe. No one will ever find you here."

A soft tingling sensation permeated from the base of my skull when she spoke, begetting the soothing comfort of a mother's whisper. Every sound that slipped from her lips brought me ever deeper into her trance, my mind wavering along a silken stream, drowning in it. Her fingers molded my flesh like clay, unwinding the sticking fibers and tendons until the blood flowed freely and warmly beneath my skin. But there was one part of me that was still very tense.

The succubus placed a hand under my thigh and gently guided me on to my back. I saw then the full extent of her beauty. Her amber hair cascaded from her head in waves, framing her girlish face and leading to domed breasts, each adorned with a small purple nipple. She bore not a hint of muscle, for every surface of her seemed to be silky and supple, made to be squeezed. Her thick thighs rounded into alluring glutes, and from between them, a long thin tail wagged slowly behind her, coming to a soft point at the tip. Her pussy was purple-lipped and small, flushed and glistening with desire. She looked gently into my eyes, her own full of love and promise. I could do nothing but grin back, stupidly enamored by every motion of her. She leaned forward and pressed against me, her soft flesh as comforting as it was enticing. A hand gently stroked the hair from my face as the other traced its fingers along my cheek.

"Do you like women, Elena?" Her sweet voice whispered.

"Yes."

"I thought you did." She giggled playfully, "I like women too, but they can't satisfy me like a man can. It is why I know God has sent you to me." She traced her hand back and forth across my pelvis, watching my eyes with a hopeful smile, "Well, Elena; are you ready for me now?"

"Yes!" I cried softly. She grinned delightedly, and from that smile, a long reptilian tongue slithered forth. It was wet and purple in the moonlight, sheened with viscous saliva that dripped from the forked tip. She teased my mouth to open, and I did so willingly, my eyes cast half-lidded in desire. Her tongue wrapped thrice around my own, and pulled me into her mouth as our lips pressed. Oh, she was a generous kisser, her honied spit seeping into my palate, filling my mouth with her flavor. It was a predatory consumption, but not a dominating one, for she gave to me much more than she received. She showed me what she would do to me, stroking my tongue with long wet pulls, each pass a celebration of sensation. When she withdrew, she caressed my lips with her forked tip, then smiled sultrily, and descended.

She worked methodically down my body; wrapping each nipple with her tongue, then tracing the lines of my abdomen, pathing one crease of my thigh, and moving to my center. I let out a moan as she lassoed me thrice around my throbbing cock, then sealed her consumption with purple lips. And I thought Yavara had been skilled with her mouth. The succubus consumed me with reverent avarice, making certain that every inch of me was serviced by her constricting tongue as her rotating lips pillowed around me. When she reached my base, her warm throat embraced me with swallowing gratitude, pulling my loins into her esophagus. I gasped, enraptured beyond description, staring down at her as she stared up at me, her tail wagging from between her upturned glutes. Her tongue stroked up and down as her lips slowly withdrew, her ascension accompanied by subtle slurping sounds. Her fingers gently pressed against my inner thighs, spreading them apart. I complied, parting my legs, biting my lip in anticipation. Her fingers hovered over my slit, barely brushing against my petals. She teased me for a while, gently tracing my opening, bringing me to the precipice of begging before she entered me with three digits.

My pelvis elevated on its own accord, my head pressed against the pillows, my heels pressed into the bedding. The succubus moved her mouth faster, her tongue wrapping tighter around my shaft, her lips enveloping with sweet suction. She took me deeper and deeper into her throat, softly gurgling, her eyes alight. Her unattended pussy dripped viscous nectar into a pool between her knees, but she did not sate her arousal. The familiar pressure began to rise in my loins, an even more familiar ache accompanying it my nethers, a rising pleasure ballooning from my pelvis and flowing outward through my body. I arched my back in lethargic hedonism, rising gracefully to meet the gluttony of my master, to give her what she so desired, what I so desired. With a cry, I grabbed hold of the succubus's head, squished her muzzle against my groin, and unloaded down her swallowing throat. She drank of me greedily, humming with a heightening pitch, the pool between her legs turning to puddle as her desires oozed like syrup from her depths. I collapsed, my body sated, my mind near gone. I was hers, hers forever, hers to do with as she pleased until the end of... wait...

The succubus pulled from me, unconditional adoration in her violet eyes. "Master?" She asked.

I looked down to see the woman's pupils were completely dilated, a froth of my cum cornering her purple mouth. I no longer felt the effects of her enslavement, but instead became aware of a connection between us. A connection I controlled. I recalled Yavara and Prestira's reaction to my ejaculate, and further still, I recalled somewhat in my training of a succubus's weaknesses, of how dark-elves had used them as pleasure toys. And I was half dark-elf. A thin smile breached lips, then curled wider and wider still. I took the girl's chin between my thumb and finger, and saw the way she shuddered under my touch, her violet eyes big and receptive, begging me. A slave; I had a willing, worshipping, sex slave. My grin nearly spit my face.

"Come girl, lie next to your master." I said.

She crawled obediently next to me, nestling herself under my arm, her tail curling up in contentment. It felt akin to owning a domesticated lioness. I looked into her eyes as my hand stroked her body, marveling at the softness of her.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Crystal." She muttered, practically purring under my touch.

"Of course, it is." I smiled, "Do you know where my friend is, Crystal?"

"The orc? My daughters are feeding from him in the next chamber."

"Are you the alpha?"

"Yes."

"And how many daughters do you have?"

"Five."

A megalomaniacal smile creased my lips, and I pulled Crystal hard against me. "Do you know what I'm going to do?"

"What?" She whimpered, her hands like paws on my breast, her lips pouting with her whorish want.

"I'm going to go into the next chamber," I drew my hand down her pelvis, "I'm going to take your daughters one at a time," I sunk four fingers into her slit, "and I'm going to make you watch as I turn every one of your beloved baby girls into my fuck-slaves. Does that excite you?"

"Yes!" She gasped as I worked through her vile insides, "Please Master! Please turn my daughters into slaves like me! We can all be your pet whores forever!"

"Then bring me to them." I said, and withdrew my fingers. Upon their exit, Crystal's face turned into one of pure anguish, and she whimpered and pawed at me, her lower lip quivering, her tail drooping demurely behind her. The good slave that she was, Crystal would not ask her master for what she wanted, but simply begged with puppy-like desperation. Smirking, I brought my fingers to my lips, and tasted the fluid she'd coated them with. Oh, she was sweet.

"Crystal," I said, standing up, "we're going to play a game."

"I like games." Crystal smiled up at me.

"We're going to pretend you're my master, and I'm your brainwashed cock-slave."

"That sounds like a fun game, Master." She said, her eyes filling with excitement. Unbidden, she leashed my cock with the end of her tail, squeezing firmly enough to keep me in her grasp, but not to cause pain. "This is how I would've led you if you were my slave, Master. I'm sorry for being so brash."

I grinned, cupping her ass and squeezing. "I'll make sure to punish you later."

The shudder that ran through her almost brought her to her knees, and she needed a moment to compose herself. When she did, she dawned a controlling mask, and strutted confidently forth, leading her "slave" to the adjacent chamber. I had to suppress a laugh when we walked in. The pack of predators were feasting on their downed prey, but Brock hardly seemed the condemned buffalo before the wolves. One succubus was straddled across his crotch, barely hanging on as he propelled her screaming into the air. Two more of the beasts were using his hands as stools, and their toes grazed the floor as he held them aloft, the thumb and middle fingers of both his hands buried to the bottom knuckle. A fourth rode his face with eye-rolling hedonism, while the fifth was resigned to using his foot. For her sake, I hope Brock didn't get a cramp, or the poor girl would be split in two. It was obvious by their varying complexions that each of Crystal's daughters had been sired by different fathers, but they all retained their mother's big eyes and girlish features. They all seemed to be in their adolescence, baring nubile slender bodies instead of their mother's bodacious curves, though modest assets were still supple and enticing, and my mouth watered at the sight of them.

"That's Sapphire, Opal, Diamond, Ruby and Onyx." Crystal whispered, gesturing to each of her daughters.

"Were you a geologist or something?" I snorted.

"I don't know." Crystal mused, inclining her head to the ceiling, "I am very old, Master, older than my memory."

The two daughters that had been riding Brock's hands connected eyes with their mother, and dismounted gracefully. Sapphire had eyes that belied her name's origin, a mess of scarlet hair, and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, while Diamond's namesake was evidenced by the bejeweled dots that sparkled her brow. She had black hair, bronze flesh, and eyes like emeralds, and though she was gorgeous, my eyes were drawn inexorably to Sapphire's hair. The pair of them took in every inch of me as they approached, and I unabashedly did the same with them.

"Are you already done with this one, Mother?" Sapphire asked, "I thought you'd be keeping her as your personal pet."

"She's for all of us to share." Crystal smiled fondly at her daughters.

"My god, she's beautiful." Diamond muttered, tracing her fingers up my belly, "What's your name, beautiful?"

"Elena." I hissed, my hips shaking compulsively, presenting my engorged organ to the woman.

"Elena." Sapphire echoed softly, moving behind me, "Elena the dangerous ranger; Elena the hermaphrodite. Tell me, Elena, does your seed bear fruit? For I would very-much like to have daughters with your gift."