The Erotology of the Nymph

"Very informative, President Dreelix," Ablasta cut in. "But the duration of my summoning spell is limited, so perhaps we should make use of it. Besides which, these poor hobgoblins have been quite patient in restraining their natural uncivilized impulses." She eyed the nymph with a slight, though restrained, sneer. "I recall the nymph had some rather harsh words for us when last we all met here. Why don't we have her put her sharp tongue to other uses?"

Parsing the enchantress's thinly-veiled suggestion, Dreelix nodded. "Indeed, my lady. In fact, there is a certain point in my research which I which to illustrate. Please instruct the hobgoblins to remove the nymph's gag so they can, er, gain access to her mouth."

The hobgoblins nearly broke out into a savage brawl when Ablasta passed this instruction along, knocking each other to the ground as they grabbed at the nymph from all directions, trying to be the first to claim her. Ablasta had to bark another sharp order, pointing to a hobgoblin at random. The lucky humanoid eagerly pulled off his heavy belt, pulled down his battle-worn, long-unwashed trousers, and revealed a large, semi-erect prick.

Azurielle's eyes were drawn straight to it, and she made a noise that might be called a moan of despair. Then the hobgoblin grabbed her long, glossy hair put a thick goblin-made knife to the side of her cloth gag, and Azurielle froze, fearful that it might cut her as well. Luckily, the hobgoblin had a practiced hand, and the tight knot had been so resistant to the nymph's extremely weak hands gave way quickly to the well-sharpened edge.

So now her mouth was finally free; but though the nymph would surely have loved to verbally abuse her tormenters, the hobgoblin was even now pulling her gorgeous face right up against his member, and she clamped her mouth shut tightly to avoid it. She also tried to pull herself away, but even her normal nymphly strength would have been of little use against the muscular goblinoid. The curse of powerlessness made her struggles so futile, one could almost imagine that she was faking them for appearances' sake.

Still, she was not opening her mouth as the hobgoblin wanted. Ablasta gave the hobgoblins another brief direction, apparently permission to intercede, and the remaining three creatures descended once more upon their plaything. One forced his hand into her mouth to pry it open, while the other two applied direct pain, each grabbing one of her dangling breasts and squeezing them with enough brute strength to strangle a gnome. She let out a sharp, inarticulate cry as she opened her mouth wide in pain, which provided plenty of opportunity for her oral violator to slam his dick home past her lush, formerly-proud lips and into her moist, inviting hole.

She no longer struggled. Encouraged by the hobgoblins who mauled her tits when she hesitated, Azurielle began actively servicing her first monster rapist, alternating between aggressively stimulating the underside of his swollen glans with the point of her perfect pink tongue, and encasing the upper part of his length in her mouth, bobbing her head while maintaining such a strong seal of suction with her lips that her cheeks were visibly sunken - an altogether humiliating, degrading effect. The Monster Hunters observed the nymph's ministrations with great interest.

"Looks like the robe's curse hasn't robbed her of any oral skill," Grindle commented, impressed. "She's going at that hobgoblin's member like it's one of Old Gumphrey's famous three-meat chimera sausages."

"Precisely the point that I wish to discuss, my good man," Dreelix agreed. "You can see that even with her current dearth of mental faculties, the nymph is indeed performing like a seasoned, ahem, lady of the night." Zantoullios watched with fascination as the hobgoblin grabbed the back of Azurielle's head and pulled her slammed his dick balls-deep into his unwashed groin. The bulge in her petite throat was visible even from a distance. Still, although the tears dripping down her cheeks demonstrated her unhappiness with the situation, the hobgoblin seemed to meet no resistance as he began to savagely facefuck her. On the contrary, her tongue was still roaming over the underside of her assailant's member, to the extent that it was able.

"Better, frankly," Grindle agreed. "Usually they gag at least a little." That's probably because of your smell, Zantoullios refrained from replying.

"Ahem. Yes. Well. In the course of my research in preparing for this venture, I perused a number of accounts of sexual encounters with nymphs, and in no case did anyone describe a nymph as anything but the most talented, enthusiastic, and responsive partner they'd ever known."

"Exactly what publications have you been reading for this 'research'?" asked Ablasta, dryly.

"Credible ones!" Dreelix responded defensively. "Memoirs of retired adventurers and such. The point is, I theorize that along with their supreme beauty, a nymph inherits incomparable sexual instincts for satisfying her lovers. And those instincts are so strong, they remain with the nymph even when their intelligence has been so reduced that there's not even room for language in their pretty little heads."

It seemed difficult to argue against: the nymph was presently occupied with deepthroating a second hobgoblin, the first having dumped its load straight into her belly while Dreelix was expounding. She had swallowed each spurt smoothly and was again rhythmically bobbing on the member's replacement, despite her still-obvious misery.

"And there's more!" Dreelix continued, growing even more animated. "Lady Ablasta, could you instruct one of these creatures to, ah, impose upon the nymph from the other end, as well?"

The hobgoblins needed little convincing; one particularly bulky fellow seized the opportunity, shoving aside its fellows, grabbing the nymph's legs and lifting her back half physically off the ground to line her up with his straining cock. Azurielle barely missed a beat in thoroughly sucking off her current lover, her torso still held aloft by the two hobgoblins who continued to enjoy their access to her perfect, dangling udders. Their less-than-playful gropes, squeezes, and twists of her nipples provided a staccato soundtrack of moans to go with the wet sounds coming from her mouth.

"Ah, that's not..." Dreelix began, as it became clear that the burly hobgoblin at the rear was aiming not for the nymph's cunt, but rather for her tight bumhole. It jimmied its cockhead vigorously against the nymph's sphincter, smearing precum as it sought a foothold. The nymph's squirms intensified.

"Well," Dreelix continued, "that's just as well for our purposes. Please observe the nymph's, ahem, nether areas."

This was hard to see from their angle, so Ablasta had one of the spare hobgoblins lift one of the nymph's legs (although the poor disappointed creature would clearly have rather been holding another part of her), giving them a full-frontal view of the show. The pussy of the nymph was covered with fine downy hairs, almost shaven-looking in its sparkling cleanliness. Except... no, what was glistening down there was unmistakably moisture. Rather a lot of it, in point of fact.

"I've never seen a woman look so... ready," Grindle muttered. If this comment did not speak well of Grindle's skills as a lover, it nevertheless passed without a response from his peers.

"Are you suggesting that she's enjoying this treatment?" asked Zantoullios in disbelief. "They're not exactly making any effort to bring her pleasure." Indeed, the pert, perfect nub of the nymph's clit, engorged and poking proudly forward, had received no attention whatsoever from the hobgoblins. For all he knew, they were unaware of its significance.

The hobgoblin in back, having finally found a little purchase in the nymph's asshole, slammed forward to sink his whole throbbing length into her helpless bowels. Azurielle cried out long and hard, her limbs flailing. At first, Zantoullios assumed that this was an expression of pain... but upon further inspection, the distant look in her dilating eyes and the gush of juices that suddenly dripped down onto the hall's wooden floors from her pussy suggested a different cause. The hobgoblins laughed, the facefucker pulling out to spray long ropes of cum over her dazed, perfect features.

Dreelix stared at Azurielle, for the brief moment before another hobgoblin switched in to lay claim to her mouth. He face was covered with such a delectable mix of pleasure, pain, shame, and, well, hobgoblin semen. She might theoretically have been more beautiful before he'd applied his lesser curse, but this had certain aesthetic qualities as well. At length, he registered Zantoullios's question and attempted to respond. He had to speak more loudly to be heard over the grunts and rhythmic slapping of the hobgoblin's thighs against the nymph's perfect ass, as well as the wet sounds of the nymph miserably servicing another one with her talented mouth.

"Er, well, intellectually, I'm sure she loathes it. To whatever extent she currently has an intellect, anyway. But physically, yes, I believe she is experiencing considerable pleasure."

"Why in the world would that be?" Ablasta questioned. She was frowning, though it was unclear whether this was because of the intellectual mystery or because she would prefer that the nymph not be enjoying herself. "For that matter, why does she have sexual functions at all? When she was in disguise here, she told us herself that nymphs don't reproduce normally, but appear born spontaneously from places of great natural beauty."

"I have my theories," mused Dreelix. "For your first point, I believe it to be in some way related to their beauty. Nymphs are by definition the most sexually-desirable entity that a mortal could ever see. Just as we cannot help but respond to her beauty, could it be that she can't help but respond to our lust?" (4)

"You make it sound like nymphs are specifically designed to be sexual toys for mortals," Ablasta mused.

"That's a bit of a stretch, don't you think?" asked Zantoullios, mildly scandalized.

"Well, it would also answer Ablasta's second question, of why nymphs are able to have sex to begin with," Dreelix defended. "Besides which, nymphs are associated with the Olympian pantheon. Perhaps Zeus had a hand in their creation."

They all looked back at the nymph, who at this moment was once again spasming in orgasmic ecstasy from being forcefully fucked in the ass by a crude monstrous humanoid.

"Yes, Zeus was definitely involved." Ablasta stated decisively, to a chorus of muttered assent. (5)

It was at this moment that Ablasta's summoning spell expired, the hobgoblins vanishing on the spot with a soft 'pop' sound as they were returned to wherever they came from: either pleased as punch, or unbelievably blue-balled, depending on whether they'd had a chance to unload themselves in the squirming sylvan fucktoy. ⁶ The fucktoy in question fell unceremoniously onto the floorboards of the hall in a small puddle of various bodily fluids, drooling and leaking from each of her holes. Dreelix's unseen servant immediately went to work, levitating rags over from a storage closet to dab around the nymph and avoid unnecessary stains or warping.

The four wizards stared at the tableau for a long moment.

"So... does anyone have anything else going on tonight?" Grindle ventured.

"Not in particular," Zantoullios answered distantly.

"I'll continue to record this meeting until the President adjourns it," Ablasta affirmed.

"In that case," Dreelix smiled. "What worthier use of the Association's time could there be than expanding our knowledge of monsters...?"

-----

The Conjurer Ablasta had a variety of summoning spells prepared, and over the course of the evening, they put them all to good use in the name of scientific curiosity. It was nearly dawn when their conjuration repertoire, and their energy, was fully expended, and all four wizards slumped in their chairs in exhaustion. It had been a sexual show such as Zantoullios had never imagined: far beyond anything the traveling circuses displayed in their late-night "special entertainments," or anything he had seen during his youth when he had just mastered the clairvoyance spell and had been, er, practicing with it every day. In the sober pursuit of arcane mastery, of course.

At the direction of the unexpectedly multilingual Lady Ablasta, the nymph had been mated with lizardmen and goblins, oozes and ghouls, and a pack of truly hideous patchwork mongrelmen that made quite a striking contrast with their sublime partner. Zantoullios swore that one of them had, in addition to elf arms, a crabman's eyestalk, and a satyr's legs, an ogre's cock... not to mention a goblin's enthusiastic high-tempo thrusting pace, with which it pummeled Azurielle's heavenly insides until her eyes rolled back in her head and she'd experienced an orgasm so overwhelming and excruciating that she'd temporarily lost consciousness.

None of the creatures remained much longer than the hobgoblins had, but it never took long for their phalluses to become ready for the nymph... further evidence that her qualities were fully trans-species. Even the juju zombie that Ablasta conjured with her most powerful monster summoning spell had been engaged with the process, burning hatred glowing it its eyes as it scratched and tore at the nymph's tits while violently fucking her deep with its rancid undead cock. Despite the pain, her cries had been mixed with pleasure then, too.

There were of course a few misses, as well: when the conjurer accidentally summoned giant toads, they had done nothing but gently nuzzle the nymph with their slimy noses, and were quickly dismissed. (7)

And her body was incredibly receptive: Grindle swore up and down that two trolls would never be able to double-team the petite nymph, but when she was suspended quivering between the two, her body held upright by the human arm-sized members stuffed up her ass and pussy, he had to admit that he'd been wrong. He also had to pay Dreelix the five silver that they'd wagered. (8)

One surprising breakthrough had come while Azurielle was reluctantly riding the cock of an orog. The ugly, ogrish creature was lying back and letting her grind against its bare, scarred greenish skin. At the same time, it was focusing with great interest on her perfect bouncing tits, regularly reaching up to slap them, pull at the nipples, or knead them with sudden vigor. The creature seemed as surprised as its audience when creamy milk began to squirt from her rock-hard nipples, in quite impressive quantities. Since it was obvious that this could have no evolutionary justification in a magical creature that didn't birth or raise young, the general consensus was that this must be another case of the nymph's body responding to the sexual desires of her assailant. Certainly the orog seemed to enjoy suckling at one of her breasts while milking the other with a rough but practiced hand. (9)

At times, the nymph's mouth was free and she found herself able to express herself, although cursed as she was she showed nothing close to the vocabulary she'd used to have. Mostly she alternated between calling the Association members unkind (albeit well-justified) names, and swearing at the gods as she was overwhelmed with wave after wave of crushing orgasmic pleasure.

Despite the occasional verbal abuse directed their way, Zantoullios found that his moral qualms subsided after the first several rounds of the impromptu sex show that they'd inflicted on the formerly-proud fae. Yes, Dreelix had stolen her strength and most of her mind, and reduced to a feeble rape doll... and yes, they were subjecting her to endless abuses for what he was forced to admit were not completely necessary scientific reasons. But it was somehow hard to take her personhood and right to self-determination seriously when he'd seen her reach orgasm while being fucked from behind like a bitch by a (surprisingly-enthusiastic) hell hound.

If Azurielle had looked slightly overdone after being handled by the hobgoblins, it was nothing to the state she was now in. The nymph lay face-down on the floor, head down and rear still raised slightly behind her in the position that the aforementioned hound had left her. Her eyes were open, but staring blankly out into space, addled by the constant abuse she'd endured and the equally-unrelenting pleasure that had been unwillingly forced upon her because of it. Her rear and breasts (currently not very visible, as they were pressed down under her torso into a particularly large puddle of sticky troll semen) were both raw and red from scratches, slaps, and vicious gropes from various creatures. She was still the most alluring thing Zantoullios had ever seen.

Now seated, the Association members attempted to regain their composure. Even dour Lady Ablasta's face looked flushed, snaking up out of its proper, high-buttoned blouse.

Shortly, Dreelix rose, returned to his podium, and banged his gavel a few times in order to collect himself. "So as you can see," he concluded lamely, "the nymph has many qualities which should enable us to collect an extraordinarily high price from a sufficiently rich and interested... er, menagerist."

"No doubt, no doubt," muttered Grindle, adjusting the collar of his robe. He appeared quite overheated, and considerably sweatier than normal. "But Dreelix, do you think we should rush to find a buyer? Perhaps we should keep her a while. For, ah, further harvesting of components."

"Enchanted nymph-hair-sewn garments are very popular among the nouveau riche..." Lady Ablasta noted.

"Exactly!" Grindle enthused. "Merchants can't get enough of them. One of our best revenue streams."

"And clearly there's much more research to be done on the nymph's bodily fluids," Dreelix agreed. "Who knows what magical properties they might have?" There was another murmur of general assent. (10)

"Perhaps better not to mention it to the rest of the Association, though," Grindle mused. "Not until we're ready to present our findings in full, at least."

"All very reasonable," Dreelix concurred. "No reason to hurry. So... are we in agreement to keep the nymph on-hand but under wraps for now? Show of hands?" His and Grindle's shot up, and after a moment's hesitation, Lady Ablasta's did as well. All eyes turned to Zantoullios.

Zantoullios was sure that he could still get his compatriots to change course. Enough was enough, and all that. If he stressed how improper it would be to keep a literal sex slave around, he could probably convince Ablasta, and if he threatened to cause a scandal with the rest of the Association, even Dreelix might grudgingly back down. The only thing he loved more than money was the prestige of his position as president, after all.

He glanced over at Azurielle. Her dark eyes were pointed his way, as if she could follow his train of thought. But of course that was unlikely - ensorcelled and semi-conscious as she was at the moment, she was in no state to follow their conversation. Most likely she was glaring at Dreelix, who after all was the real architect of her woe. Not that she would likely appreciate the distinction - he remembered how her wrath had fallen equally on the whole Association before. There was no way they could let her go, in any case; she would become an implacable enemy of not just them, but likely all of civilization! The responsible thing to do was to keep her contained, like any other dangerous monster. An hourglass-shaped monster, to be sure, still leaking cum from several of its tempting holes, and milk from its well-handled udders. And was it that much of a crime to keep her, when she could be made to do most anything, and to like it...?