The Amorous Arcanist

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Arjak is introduced to nightborne culture.
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Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 11/24/2022
Created 08/20/2021
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Arjak woke up on the softest bed he had ever felt in his entire life. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the crepuscular room he found himself in, but what he saw was almost unbelievable. The scene was luxurious, unlike anything he had seen before on Zandalar. An elven aesthetic came to mind when he tried to deduce where on Azeroth he could be. Everything from the floor to the ceiling seemed imbued with magic, granting him the sensation of being caught in a mage's dream. As strange as it was, this setting was an immense improvement over the one he had just suffered through. After surviving several days adrift at sea, it was easy for him to appreciate his new environment.

As he rose, he realized just how incredible he felt. Compared to the fatigued state he was in when he lost consciousness, his body was in excellent condition. Not only did he feel rejuvenated, but clean, smelling of fragranced oils usually reserved for the wealthy. Whoever was responsible for washing him did not cut corners. What's more, his tattered loincloth had been replaced with silken slacks, providing a sort of comfort that was not easily found in his homeland. He was surprised he had no recollection of anything that had transpired between now and the time he passed out on his raft.

Right as he was about to get up and examine the room, a door across from him started to glimmer with runes. He paused to watch as it opened for an elven woman of compelling beauty. She was much taller than the elves he had met before, closer in stature to himself. Her indigo skin was embellished with arcane symbols that shimmered in and out of sight as she moved towards him. Long white hair as pale as the moon cascaded from her head to her lower back, providing a celestial backdrop for her voluptuous shape. The sultry nightgown she wore was nearly transparent, clearly designed for seduction. It hung from her immense bust like a gossamer curtain, draping as far down her body as the crotch line of her delicate panties. An hourglass of a figure could be made out behind the airy fabric, the dimensions of which were ideal for breeding. This phenomenal torso was supported by two luscious legs accentuated by a gap between her cushiony thighs.

As the temptress walked closer, her appearance became more discernible. Good genetics had afforded her an elegant face which she skillfully embellished with cosmetics. Glamorous jewelry established her as a creature of vanity, but one with sophisticated taste. Entrancingly, her lusty eyes flickered with arcane potency, a feature that could only belong to one who held dominion over this place. She stopped short of his bed, striking a sensuous pose by placing her hands on her hips and shifting her weight to one leg. "I see you're finally up," she said with the air of an aristocrat. "Did you sleep well?"

"Feelin' great, mon," he replied.

She smiled winsomely, then took a bunch of grapes from a nearby plate of fruit he hadn't noticed until now. Joining him on the bed, she crawled up next to him, then began selecting grapes one by one to feed into his mouth. He allowed her to pamper him in this way, but could not help but wonder what her aim was. "You were nearly dead when they found you," she explained. "It only took a day for you to recover - you possess some impressive stamina."

"Wouldn't be de first time I've heard dat."

"Oh, and I'm sure you don't get tired of hearing it. What's your name?"

"Arjak. Yours?"

"You may call me Vela."

When the grapes were depleted, she reached over and felt the contours of his muscular abdomen. "You have an incredible physique," she praised. "I had the pleasure of cleaning you, so now I consider myself somewhat an expert on your anatomy."

"I can tell. De pants fit just right."

"You're larger than most men here, but that's nothing a bit of sewing couldn't solve."

"Where am I?"

"Suramar."

"Suramar?"

Possessed by curiosity, he left the bed and made his way to a balcony. Sprawling before him was a metropolis of staggering grandeur under a starry firmament. Magic illuminated the city with the ambiance of twilight, an inversion of Dazar'alor's bright palate. He was not too proud to admit the city was impressive, and if Vela's behavior was typical for a nightborne woman, he was not in any hurry to leave.

So engrossed in the spectacle was Arjak that he failed to notice Vela sneak upon him. She embraced him from behind, smushing her bosom against his sturdy back. "I think it's too early for you to explore the city," she whispered in a sultry tone. "We still haven't gotten to know each other."

He broke her hold and turned around, delighted to avail himself to a woman who seemed so enamored with him. "Don't ya worry, girl. Ya gonna get to know me real good."

"Pleased to know we're in agreement, then."

She reached up and framed his head with her hands, gently guiding it low enough for her to kiss him. He kissed her back with certain fervor as his hands found their way to her hips. They tasted each other for a few moments until her lips began to wander down his body. Slowly, she descended to her knees, pecking him affectionately until she reached the enormous bulge protruding from his slacks. "You wouldn't believe how hard it was to resist enjoying this when I discovered it," she divulged. "I've been thinking about it ever since." With an elated sigh, she pulled down the fabric and exposed his throbbing erection to the crisp night air.

In plain view of the city, Vela began fellating Arjak's cock. She didn't seem to mind the risk of being caught with a troll's meat in her mouth, focusing exclusively on his satisfaction. It was difficult to tell if she was indulging a fetish or if she was simply indifferent to her neighbors. Either way, he was enthralled by her technique. The suction of her maw upon his shaft felt sublime. Her eyes remained fixated on his face as if she were reading his mind while she performed her service. Even after several minutes had passed, she did not grow complacent, carrying out her task with as much energy as when she started.

Eventually, she pulled back, wiping the residue from her lips with her fingers. "Why don't we head back inside?" she proposed. "It's a bit chilly out here."

"Not a bad idea" he concurred.

Rising to her feet, she took his hand and led him back into the room. Once they had returned to the bed, she ushered him upon it but remained standing near the edge. "I hope you don't mind if I employ some help" she stated.

"Ya have friends?" he asked favorably.

"In a manner of speaking..."

With a coy smile, she cast a spell to summon three forms into existence. They materialized in the blink of an eye as mirror images of herself, all independent of each other. A lesser man may have been frightened by such sorcery, but he was overtly fascinated. All at once, the four women descended upon him, each to a designated position. One of them sat above him, supporting his head in her lap. Two of them cuddled up on either side of him, their hands caressing his chest. The last of them, the original, had just finished slipping out of her panties by the time the others assembled around him. She crawled up his body until his groin was between her legs, at which point she gracefully removed her final garment. To say she was stacked would be an understatement.

With a firm grip on his cock, she descended, taking his Zandalari heritage into her nethers inch by inch. A breath of fulfillment escaped her lungs as she transfixed herself upon him. Her tight organs created just the right amount of pressure against his appendage, and as she began to oscillate he felt a visceral wave of pleasure. Dulcet sounds emanated from her head with each dip, flattering him without the use of words. All the while, her doppelgangers fought over his attention, infatuated with his masculine essence. Even though they were merely copies, he considered it cruel to deny them equal affection. He fondled their ephemeral forms evenly as they took turns savoring his lips.

Vela's energy did not wane as the night progressed. Her hands pressed onto his abdomen for stability as she rode him with increasing impetus. By now her skin was glimmery from exertion, setting her apart as the most diligent of his harem. At the rate she was bouncing, he suspected she was due for an orgasm, and it was not long after this realization that it arrived. Tilting her head back, she moaned dramatically, overwhelmed by the swell in ecstasy. The paroxysm caused her images to flicker, but they resumed with their program immediately afterward. After her convulsion subsided, she looked back to him and grinned like a sinner. "Thalyssra's more clever than I gave her credit for," she asserted. "Joining the Horde wasn't such a bad idea after all."

"I doubt ya men be tinkin' de same way" he pointed out.

She snickered. "They had us to themselves for thousands of years. As you could imagine, most of us women are desperate for something different. Now... Let's change things up, shall we?"

On cue, Arjak climbed off the bed to allow the four Velas to rearrange themselves. The original ended up on all fours while the others waited patiently at her wings. Lured by her magnificent derriere, he took his place on his knees behind her, clamping her hips between his brawny hands. The images then surrounded him, fawning over his muscles as their maker braced herself for a pounding. With relish, he drove his cock deep inside her, then proceeded to hump away like an animal. She bawled erotically, clenching the sheets of the bed in a test of her endurance. This stage lasted about as long as the first and concluded in the same way. Her raucous climax left her wobbly, much to the envy of her clones.

"By the Nightwell, you're amazing," she praised. "How are you so good at this?"

"Like everything, it comes wit' practice."

"Well, you can keep practicing with me as much as you'd like," she proposed as she glanced back to him over her shoulder. "I don't think I've ever felt like this before."

"Good, good... On ya back, den."

"As you wish."

Without delay, she obeyed his command, rotating herself into a supine position. He pulled her legs apart wide enough to fit between them, then tilted upon her and pinned her arms down above her head. A look of apprehension surfaced on her face as a result of this development, a subtle reminder that men as domineering as him were a rarity in Suramar. His dissolute countenance held her gaze as he entered her, compelling her to bite her lips and writhe in his hold. She strove to hold her breath, but soon after he began thrusting she inhaled sharply and released a resounding cry. Her images migrated to her perimeter, gingerly stroking her breasts on her behalf.

It was late into the night by the time the session approached its conclusion. Noticing his partner was beginning to long for a release, he redoubled his efforts. Pressure accumulated in his loins until, at long last, he ejaculated. She blared with rapture as she became laden with cum, reveling in one final spasm synchronized with his discharge. The romp could have ended on this note pleasantly enough, but the sorceress had one more trick at her disposal. In an instant, he felt affected by some temporal force as he experienced the last few moments of intercourse in reverse. Her spell had brought them backward in time just seconds before he came. Although he retained the memory of the finale, he was replete with mojo once more, allowing him to recreate the event. This deviant use of magic was repeated over and over again until she was left drained of mana.

The light of dawn spilled into the room from the window as the two lovers wound down from their orgy. Her images had already dissipated, granting him enough space to lay down next to her. She stared at the ceiling in a daze, panting with exhaustion. For her to have remained conscious for this long was surprising, but he suspected she would fall into a slumber now that mating had run its course. "I lost count of how many times you came" she murmured after a pause.

"I don't know, but ya be usin' some dangerous voodoo" he warned.

"It's not voodoo, it's... never mind."

All of a sudden, the door's runes began to light up like they did when Vela first entered. He immediately rose from the bed on high alert. "Who's dat?" he demanded.

"My husband," she answered, frantically sitting up and clutching the blanket to her chest. "I didn't expect him to be returning today."

He glared at her with incredulity.

"It's probably a good idea for you to leave now" she urged with an impatient expression.

Bereft a weapon, Arjak was in no condition to manage a confrontation with a furious spouse whose magic was likely just as powerful as his wife's. He tore from the bed to make his escape through the window, grabbing his new pants along the way. Absconding the residence might have been easier for a nightborne, but a troll was far more conspicuous. It was likely he was noticed by a few bystanders during his acrobatic descent into the streets, but he stopped for nothing and put as much distance between himself and the adulteress as possible. Once he reached the ground, he fled from the city on foot, finding sanctuary in the forested outskirts.

Tired and hungry, he stumbled through the wilderness to find a suitable location to rest. Conveniently, he found a small cave to take refuge in. It was a far cry from the opulence of a nightborne home, but it would have to make do. As precarious as his situation had become, he still fared much better than he had the day before. Finding his way home would be a challenge, but as long as there were no more female distractions, few things in this world could prevent him from returning home. Survival was his profession, after all.

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