Queen Yavara Ch. 18

"What?"

She dropped herself atop me, growling as she curved downward like a feline, her face an inch from mine. "If I wanted to fuck myself, I'd find a broomstick." She hissed, her nose wrinkling in a snarl. She grabbed my hands, and roughly guided them to her ass, making me squeeze until her supple flank enveloped my digits, my knuckles caught in the netting. "Fuck! Me!" She growled. And with a laugh, I surged into her, and wiped that bitchy expression off her face.

PATRICIA

Trenok had my wrists pinned together behind my back, his tusked lips greedily sucking from my breast, his other hand pulling my hair back, making me exalt to the ceiling. His cock pounded into my tightest hole, opening the fleshy cuff within, finding my most vulnerable depths. I growled like the beast I was, my red lips curving in a decadent smile, moaning as I enjoyed the orc's savagery. From heavily-lidded eyes, I connected gazes with Certiok Protaki Terdini. Did she enjoy watching me fuck her husband? Zander and Mom had left her lying in a pool of her own making, hyperventilating ecstatically into the tabletop as she watched me. Ah, there was that look, that comingling of jealousy and arousal. Orc women were so very territorial; would Certiok seek to claim me as a prize to share with her husband, or would she challenge me for position? The lithe princess got onto shaking hands and knees, and crawled across the table. I swiveled to face her, stirring my clenching asshole around her husband's driving cock, baring my fangs and displaying with open legs all that I'd taken from her. I was ready for the lustful battle, to match fingers and tongues, and see which woman's prowess was greater. But as she approached me, Certiok ducked her head demurely, presenting submission. I raised my brows in surprise, and beckoned her forward with a single finger. She smiled coyly and complied, hunching her shoulders as she crawled between my legs.

"I expected more fight from a warrior princess." I smiled sardonically, drawing my thumb across her lush lips, parting them to expose her subtle tusks.

"Your mother has sapped my aggression." Certiok giggled, "I'm feeling quite defeated now."

"Are you?" I grinned, beckoning her to rise with my thumb upon her chin, "Then I will plunder you without struggle."

"Yes." She hissed, shivering. She tilted her head, drawing back her braided hair to expose the delicious bow of her neck. Her eyes were a comingling of fear and desire, that look I so loved to see in my victims. I sank my fangs into her throat, and pulled her blood into me. My heart thundered alive with the sustenance, and my eyes grew wild as Certiok wilted into my arms with an overwhelmed sigh. Licking my lips clean of her, I guided her down between my legs, and let her be the servant she so desired to be. Oh, did she serve well.

Do you see what I see? Mom's voice broke into my head.

I looked up at her. She was nearly bent in half with the exaggerated curve of her back, staring rapturously into Brock's eyes as he made a mess of her cunt. And though Brock gazed reverently back at his queen, I couldn't help but notice the looks he stole across the room. There, Elena Straltaira and her little beasties were feasting upon the vampiric Prestira. Elena conducted the sensual frenzy, but her attention was periodically diverted across the room to watch Mom and Brock. Was there a look of curiosity on her face when she gazed upon Mom's predicament? Was there a touch of envy?

Do you see it too? Mom asked in my mind, her eyes cornering slyly at me, her face a portrait of intense ecstasy.

They wanted to kill each other a second ago.

Funny how that works.'

She's a lesbian.

Straight girls have gay awakenings when they're drunk; why should it be different for gay girls? Everyone has a duality to their sexuality. Sometimes, they just need someone else to help them unlock it.

You're such a corrupting influence.

Innocence was made to be corrupted, like the flower was made to be pollinated; why else would the wicked find it so alluring? Mom's eyes traversed the length of my bowed body, taking in the depravity I displayed, It's a shame your innocence was so fleeting.

I am your daughter.

Mom's gaping smile broadened. Now watch your mommy work.

ELENA

I felt a familiar tongue in an unfamiliar place. I looked behind myself to see Yavara's orange eyes twinkling up at me, her hands gently parting my cheeks, her smiling lips wrapping around my anus. I gawked back at her, spellbound by the feeling she bored wetly into me, the sensuality with which she pressed her anal kiss. My eyes drew down the bowed length of her spine, to the green muscular slab of abdomen behind it, rising to a robust chest framed by capped shoulders, every inch of vascular flesh tattooed with tribal sigils. Brock Terdini was the posterchild for masculinity, and for a reason I couldn't explain, it stirred something in me. He gripped Yavara's hips, and thrusted violently, squishing my beloved's face deep into my ass. The momentum carried me into Prestira, whose vampiric eyes were violet with my slave's toxins, and whose actions were of pure, mindless bliss. She cried out with the sudden force of my thrust, drawing her arms out in a languorous motion, her splayed fingers caressing the nodes and curves of the beasts feeding upon her.

Brock thrusted again, and Yavara squealed a muffled tone against me, her tongue finding my prostate, sliding along it. But I wasn't paying attention to her, only to the man who was using her as an extension of his cock, pushing its tip into my ass. He was staring at me like a man possessed, his eyes topping his shadowed brow, his tusked mouth fixed in a grimace. He thrusted again, and again, and again. Yavara squirmed and shrieked in delight, and I cried with her, staring back at him with a heated expression, my cheeks flushed, my pale lips parted and breathing heavily. I hardly noticed the way my cock felt buried inside Prestira, but I noticed acutely the saturation of my female nethers, the throbbing desire in my virgin slit, the pulsing vacancy deep in my anus.

"This is how I did it, Ranger." Brock growled at me, pulling out of Yavara's cunt, showing me the sheened length of his cock. Did my heart flutter at the sight of it? Did I bite my lower lip? I couldn't say. Yavara mewled into my asshole, begging with her writhing hips what she'd wanted all along. Brock steadied the Dark Queen, but he was looking at me, only at me as he pressed his tip to her anus. "When I raped your beloved princess that night, this is how I did it. Watch. Me."

With one thrust, he drove his slickened weapon to the hilt, causing Yavara to wrench in reaction, her corrupted body accommodating every inch of the orc with relish. Like an addict finally getting her fix, she quivered in euphoria, whimpering for more. Her tongue lolled stupidly inside me, simply trying to taste all that it could in a mindless fervor. Brock stared at me from his mess of braids, his nose snarling, his tusks gleaming.

"I took your precious Yavara, and I raped her virgin shithole until she begged me to stop." Brock growled, thrusting with long, violent motions, making me feel the shock that ran through Yavara every time he did. My thighs leaked with foreign need, my legs trembled. I couldn't take my eyes off Brock, couldn't help but imagine how he must feel inside Yavara. How he would feel inside me. The power he had, the overbearing will of a man. Had I never noticed it before? Had I never before felt its spell upon me?

"But I didn't stop, Ranger," Brock said lowly to me, "I fucked her until her mind broke, and she became nothing but a baseless slut, begging for cock." Brock pressed his hand into the small of Yavara's back, and tore himself out. Yavara shrieked into my depths, her anus outflowing and budding in a glistening rose, pulsing with the accelerating beat of her heart. She collapsed onto her belly, her mouth leaving me, and she writhed on the floor in orgasm. Brock stepped unceremoniously over his queen, and loomed over me. So imposing, so strong and undeniable. Had I never felt this weakness before, this primal desire to yield to the alpha? I'd been with domineering women before, but this... this would require me to open myself in a way I had never known. To accept the invasion of another, to allow him to touch those sacred feminine places that had never been disturbed before. It would be done to me. Rape. Force. Beg. These were the words Brock had used. Not in the playful sense I had uttered with Yavara, but in earnest. He would be violent, he would use me, he would degrade me and break me as he had done to Yavara. He would make me like her, my mind twisted, my soul tainted, my very nature changed by the corruption of evil pleasures. I pulled out of Prestira without thinking, and faced him. Those abhorrent things whispered within me, a primeval compulsion that I could not deny. I was half dark-elf, and this was how dark-elves became women. We were whores by nature, our depths unknown even to us. And those instincts that had been raped into me by the woman I loved, compelled me to reach out with curious fingers, and wrap my hand around Brock's enormous cock. I marveled at the feeling of it in my palm, the heat coming off it, the way it throbbed with engorgement. It felt right. In that moment, I knew there'd been something missing in my life since I'd transformed, and it was this. Oh, it was this! I became aware of my other-self, a piece of me that I'd buried so deeply that I hadn't even known of its existence. But how had I not realized it? For it was as obvious as the organ between my legs. My masculine side, born from the transformation of my female body. It was as gay as my feminine side was.

I tilted my face up to Brock, my vision veiled violet with my succubus pheromones, and with what little breath I had in my chest, I whispered, "Rape me too."

BROCK

My blood was boiling in my veins, my breaths were heated, my entire being was focused on her. When I got like this, there was no holding me back. She didn't want me to hold back. I could tell by the glint in her sapphire eyes as she looked back at me, her tiny elf body bent over with her face pressed to the floor, that she wanted it too bad to care how she got it. These dark-bloods were a different breed. I pressed my tip to her pink puckered center, admiring the hairless ribbon of taint that led to her flushed cunt, which glistened with readiness. Her pathetic cock was rigid and leaking stings on the floor between her toned legs, the faggot in her writhing for me. I was about to drive myself all the way in when a small hand stopped me. Queen Yavara pressed her fingers to my abdomen, staying me with her incalculable strength. She moved before Elena, and rested her lover's platinum-haired head in her lap.

"You're not just doing this for me, are you?" Queen Yavara asked Elena sweetly.

"No," Elena's voice was husky and riddled with need, "I just want it so bad! You ruined me, you bitch!"

"I did." Queen Yavara giggled proudly, elevating Elena's head, running her finger through her nearly-white hair, "Now I'm going to ruin you more. I'm going to turn you into an anal slut just like I did with Prestira." Queen Yavara's eyes alighted with something evil, "No more hiding behind your boring lesbianism, oh no; you're going to be the dark jewel of my kingdom, the most depraved little cunt in the world. You and I are going to have so much fun together, Elena, but first, we have to change you." Queen Yavara leaned forward, and spit. The glob landed on Elena's tailbone, and slowly traveled down her crack, pooling around her coiled button. Queen Yavara eased herself back, took Elena's wrists, and pinned them to the floor before her. Her expression was wild and full of dangerous lust, and I saw the way Elena was hypnotized by it, both in love and terror. Queen Yavara looked to me. "Break this whore in."

ELENA

Pain. Pain and pleasure suffusing my body, taking over my senses, my very mind! I gazed into Yavara's eyes, seeing my agonized and ecstatic face reflected from her crazed orange lenses. I didn't recognize her when she was like this. There was no compassion in the gaze, but only avarice and arousal, something as terrible as it was captivating. It compelled me to do as she desired, to please her though I knew she was insatiable, to delve lower though I knew her depths had no bottom. Terror and desire; a concoction that bathed my synapses in primal mania, stripping my identity with every inch the orc pushed inside. Deeper and deeper he went into me, stretching me near to rending, testing the elasticity of my chastity until I thought I would rupture. But I didn't. This lewd body I'd been cursed with, blessed with, it took Brock all the way. Each. Terrible. Wonderful. Inch. When his balls slapped against my cunt and cock, and his crotch pressed to my tailbone, I whimpered, and collapsed in Yavara's lap.

"Well?" She whispered, her voice edging with the thrill of it, "Do you like it?"

"Oh no." I sobbed, wracked with spasms.

Yavara lifted my head, connected our gazes. Some of the mania had left her eyes, and I saw in them a familiar compassion. "Elena, you don't like it?"

"No," I said, my voice possessed, sounding like it was coming from someone else, "I love it."

Yavara grinned evilly at me, that implacable glint returning to her eyes. She brought my face to hers in a sudden kiss, and she devoured my mouth as though trying to taste the extent of my violation on the buds of my tongue. I returned the kiss with wide eyes, lost in my duality of hedonism and panic, teetering on the edge. Could I succumb fully to the lecherous creature as she had? Could I discard my morals, my ideals, my very conscience just to taste the sweetest, deadliest fruit? No. No, I was not made like her. But she could change me. She could mold me into this dark jewel of her dark kingdom, this whore of whores, this demon of lust without limits or mercy. I would become that for her. Only for her.

Yavara broke the kiss, her breath shallow and heated, her wild eyes traversing my face. She suddenly seized my arms, and spun me about the axis of Brock's cock. I screamed, feeling every bump and vein of him digging against my twisting rectum until I was resting on my back, staring up at him. "Look at yourself." Yavara whispered in my ear, her lips touching the point. She grappled with my arms until they were forced behind my head, pushing my face forward, "Watch what he does to you. Watch yourself become his filthy anal slut."

I stared with dumbstruck eyes at the bulge in my abdomen. It didn't seem anatomically possible, but there it was, the distention of my guts forced against my abdominal wall by the full invasion of the orc. He grinned at me, pleased with the way he looked inside me, and he slowly withdrew. The pressure released in my nethers, the relief within a palpable sensation, but it was nothing, nothing compared to the sudden surge of vacancy, the need to be filled once again! Oh god, I'd been ruined! Even as I gasped with the pleasure of relief, I mewled for him to enter me once again, to destroy my body from within. I felt my sphincter close behind his exit, felt acutely the heat of him dissipating inside me, the absence of his cock ravaging my filthy innards.

"Brock, put it back in!" I cried, shifting my hips in a feminine samba that was both foreign and completely natural to me, this dance of weakness, an invitation to be ravaged.

"You're going to have to beg harder than that." Yavara tittered, her arms keeping my head locked, forcing me to look at Brock's cock as he laid it across my belly. I could smell it from here, the miasma of my own asshole, the pungent stink of his cum. My mouth watered.

"Master?" A little voice inquired. It was Opal, staring down at me with shock writ across her face. The others came soon after, forming a circle around me, baring witness to my debasement.

"Beg for it, you cunt." Yavara hissed in my ear, her voice wanton and shaking, her breasts pillowing my head, "Beg for it in front of all your little pets. Show them what a depraved faggot whore their master really is."

I could see my slaves' perception of me changing in their eyes, the image I'd meticulously cultivated crumbling. I was helpless, weak and blubbering, displayed before them like a tapestry of abasement. Why did the humiliation arouse me more? Oh, why did I seek to delve even lower?! I couldn't help myself. My body tingled with the thrill of them baring witness, their shocked expressions, their hands covering their mouths.

"Please!" I cried, squirming in Yavara's arms, "Fuck my slutty asshole! Oh god, turn me into your toy! I'll be a good faggot whore, I promise!"

"Master!" My slaves cried in congruence. I just smiled meekly at them, defeated and ashamed, and aroused all the more because of it. Brock split me with his cock, driving so hard my body lurched with our impact. My soft flesh rippled, my breasts slapped my chest, my legs splayed wide to take him all the way. He pulsed in my deepest reaches, opening my inner resistances and violating the chamber therein. I screamed in ecstasy, tears filming my eyes, my body succumbing to the lassitude of my newfound feminine heterosexuality, my male homosexuality, the receiver, the bottom, the whore. Yavara kept my face pitched forward, making me watch as Brock fucked me with accelerating drives, my belly deforming with his entrance, by body becoming his, belonging to him! Oh, god take me! I cried out again and again, calling his name, thanking him with blubbering lips as he filled me like the vessel I was, nothing but the receptacle for his cock. He parted my tender innards with brutal efficiency, flattening my walls against my insides, torturing the nerves with each wonderful pass. My cock bounced unattended against my crotch, filled by the relentless stimulus of my prostate, leaking and spurting with each drive as though his penetration milked me of my seed. It ached in its fullness, the flesh singing to be caressed.

"Don't touch her!" Yavara snarled when Opal sought to relieve the pressure in my valve. The succubus backed off, looking worriedly at me. Yavara stroked my hair as I mewled and sputtered for reprieve, my words unintelligible, lost in my screams of ecstasy. "This little faggot whore doesn't deserve to be touched; no, no, no. You're going to come from your faggot pussy like the twink-slut you are, and then you're going to thank Brock for raping your shithole!"

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" I cried, lost in the torrent of my pleasure, my pain and humiliation. Oh, how I bathed in it, squirming in the splendor of depravity, becoming fully the faggot whore, the pathetic slut unworthy of being touched like a man. Only a hole to be filled, and filled violently! My screams fluctuated to the fervent rhythm of our colliding bodies, rising in pitch as the sensations churned within my depths. My cock bounced off my crotch, strings of cum snapping from the sticky surface, the tip spurting white froth every time Brock punched into my deepest parts. I pressed my heels into the floor to pivot against the rising orgasm, but Brock snatched my ankles and spread them wide in the air, bending my body inwardly, giving him unfettered access to my ruined shithole. He sneered in my face, his breath hot and full of stink, his animalistic grimace full of possession. Possession of me, for I was his, his in totality! My eyes topped my whites, staring at him awestruck with mouth agape as I choked on ecstasy too great to sound. My cock slapped against my belly, my asshole clenched and pulsed, my prostate convulsed against the relentless abuse, the pressure building, building, building, oh god! I exploded, my body seeming to burst from within, the surge of euphoria taking me until I was sobbing freely. With every pump of Brock's penetrating cock, my own pathetic rod pumped the contents of my prostate onto me, spurting my clenching belly, my flailing breasts, my gasping mouth. With a sudden roar, Brock surged forward, nearly folding me in half, and with my ruined pelvic floor facing the ceiling, and his cock buried to the base in my ass, he came inside me.