Travel Log of a Very Curious Elf

Liriel sat on a small boulder, staring out across the empty grasslands that seemed to stretch out forever, the occasional tree. On the horizon, she could just make out the shapes of mountains to the north, but they were so far away they barely appeared as little black bumps in the distance. She spun a pen in her hand, humming thoughtfully as she fingered the parchment in her hand. Queen Ferinya had tasked her with setting out into the unknown lands, charting the world and documenting all the animals, plants, and peoples she encountered. No easy task, even for an immortal elf, yet Liriel was a determined and unusually adventurous elf, many of her kin preferring their island home than the lands beyond the sea.

She scribbled something onto the paper. Having crossed the Varoman Mountains she had come across a vast steppe that seemed to go on forever. No people had settled in this country, yet she had soon discovered they were not uninhabited, as a tribe of nomadic creatures had swiftly discovered her. She was shocked upon her first encounter with these centaurs, neither matching the sophisticated culture of her home nor falling into the category of savages. These people were vegetarian, foraging for fruits and vegetables whilst shepherding herds of goats for milk and cheese.

Despite this primitive outlook, they held a complicated culture. Their language was complex, able to flow smoothly and melodically when spoken fluently, and their poetry and songs were beautiful to listen to. Their yurts were intricately decorated with rich tapestries, woven from dyed silk, silver and gold. These yurts were equally resilient, capable of withstanding the dry weather of the steppe and retaining as much heat as possible. Liriel had observed how they put them up and dismantled them with relative ease, yet found that the process itself was a difficult and complicated task.

She had also noticed that each tribe differed from the others in some way. Whilst they all had a fairly unified culture, the centaurs held differing customs, manners and beliefs from tribe to tribe; some, notably the larger tribes, were exceedingly polite whilst others, mostly the smaller tribes, were more open and intimate with both themselves, other tribes and also Liriel.

However, they all followed the same overall religion and structure to their tribes. Each tribe was headed by a matriarch, who held the responsibility of leading the tribe to new pastures and deciding when to leave. Beneath her was the shaman, the spiritual leader of the tribe, she was responsible for communing with the spirits of the land and sky, reading omens and divining prophesy. Following these two individuals was the rest of the tribe. Each centaur was trained in gathering, capable of venturing into the wild and gathering food and resources, yet two other classes had taken place in the tribe. Weaving was seen as a highly respected art, and so some in the tribe dedicated their lives to crafting beautiful tapestries and clothes, which they would then either use to decorate their yurts or trade them with other tribes. On the other hand, some centaurs spent most of their time tending to their herds, feeding them, shaving their wool, milking and pasteurising cheese.

Politically, they are fairly peaceful, possibly due to their vegetarian nature. In the event of a disagreement, the two parties would either agree upon an appropriate compensation or, should that fail, compete in a series of athletic games overseen by the shaman. In the event that the offense is committed against another tribe, then the matriarchs of both tribes usually settle the matter, either acting as arbitration for the settlement or competing in athletics themselves should the offense be perceived as an attack on the entire tribe. In the rarest cases, however, these peaceful people can become embroiled in violence, and so a few members of the tribe are trained in the art of war.

Liriel tapped the parchment with her pen, confident with her report. However, there was still one thing that she very much unaware of: courting and mating rituals. Her Ladyship had asked her to document everything she could, and she was very much of the opinion that a central part of society was how people courted and made love to each other. Still, to go and ask about such a thing was a delicate matter, Liriel's own face flushing red up to her leaf-shaped ears. Nevertheless, she resolved to enquire about it.

It didn't take long to find the matriarch. Centaurs were naturally tall, standing on average at roughly seven and a half feet from the ground, yet this tribe's matriarch was the tallest she had seen thus far, at nearly eight feet. "Ariadne?" Liriel called.

The matriarch turned to face her guest, chocolate brown hair flowing in the wind and beating against her tanned skin. "Ah, Liriel, do you have another question for me?"

"Uh, well... I-I was curious about... about how centaurs make love to each other..."

A playful smirk appeared on the matriarch's face, "My, my, and how were you expecting me to respond? A scientific explanation, giving a detailed yet distant account of how we perform sexual intercourse? Or..." she stepped forward, leaning in towards Liriel's face, "perhaps you wanted a more intimate description, telling you how we like to get it on?"

Liriel spluttered and stammered in embarrassment.

Ariadne giggled, "Maybe, you would like a live demonstration?"

"Huh?!"

"I've been thinking about having a new foal, and the shaman has agreed to be the mother. Why don't you come and watch?"

Liriel swallowed nervously, quickly glancing at the matriarch's hindquarters. Two massive orbs hung there, covered in leathery skin as opposed to the brown fur covering the rest of her animalistic body. Additionally, it seemed the idea of being watched was arousing the centaur, as a monstruous shaft began to peek out of her sheath. Staring at it, Liriel's breathing began to deepen as her body felt hotter and hotter. Eventually, she nodded, avoiding making eye contact with Ariadne.

The matriarch laughed, walking away, "I'll go tell Artemesia. Be at my yurt at dusk."

As twilight covered the world, Liriel sat in the matriarch's yurt, fidgeting nervously as she waited. Soon, the door opened, Ariadne being followed by the shaman. Where the matriarch was athletic and muscular, Artemesia was plump and voluptuous, her massive breasts jiggling and quaking with each step.

"Ah, Liriel," the shaman spoke, "It's a pleasure to see you."

"S-Sorry for making this awkward..."

Artemesia laughed, "Worry not, my dear. I don't see why this is awkward." Despite her words, Liriel's face flushed further.

Impatient, Ariadne began groping Artemesia, "I've been waiting far too long for this," she said. The two centaurs disrobed, fondling and passionately kissing each other.

Again, Liriel began feeling her body heating up, watching as Ariadne and Artemesia stroked each other. The matriarch pulled away from Artemesia and lifted one of her breasts, bringing a hardened nipple up to her mouth. She began to suck on the teat whilst fondling the free breast with her hand, drawing pleasured moans from her lover.

The elven explorer's eyes then went to Ariadne's cock and balls. The two melon-sized orbs were gently jumping up and down, and they looked slightly bigger than when she saw them from earlier. As for her dick, it was an angry looking thing, mottled brown and pink and twitching excitedly whilst thick veins throbbed and pulsed across the 18-inch monster. Liriel swallowed a ball of spit, a damp sensation emerging in her nethers as she watched.

Artemesia let out an orgasmic cry as her pussy twitched and squirted, using her hand to push Ariadne's face into her bust. However, Ariadne had other ideas, pulling away and walking behind the weak-kneed shaman. She slapped her arse, sending a wave of pleasure through her lover, and pointed at the bed.

The shaman quickly moved to the wool blankets, dropping her forelegs to their knees and presenting her pussy to her matriarch.

Ariadne approached, gently massaging the puffy twat, revelling at how it made her lover twitch and whine. She glanced at their elven guest, whose legs had collapsed beneath her from arousal at this point. "Watch, Liriel," she commanded, stepping over Artemesia and lining her cock up with the hungry pussy, "Let me show you what makes me matriarch!" She thrusted forward, immediately hilting to the base.

Artemesia screamed in orgasmic bliss, twitching, squirting and spasming as she was brought to climax from a single thrust. Ariadne was far from done, though, rearing back and thrusting powerfully, again and again. The shaman could not think, all her strength knocked out of her with each thrust.

Liriel was brought to a much similar state. She had pulled her trousers down and began masturbating furiously, pumping a couple fingers in her vagina repeatedly, occasionally teasing her clit, whilst her other hand played with her tit. As she watched the massive cock thrust in and out of Artemesia, a yearning grew within Liriel, her core feeling noticeably empty, twitching uncontrollably as Liriel listened to Artemesia's moans and Ariadne's grunts.

The matriarch's thrusts began to speed up, the centaur approaching climax. Ariadne pulled back and held her position for a moment, before thrusting as hard as she could whilst releasing a primal roar. Artemesia howled in pleasure, feeling the throbbing member inside her bulge with cum and release inside her.

Liriel watched the matriarch's balls jump up and down, contracting to force ever more litres of spunk into the willing womb presented to it. She could see the shaman's underbelly grow ever so slightly as it was filled. The elf swore she could hear groaning emanate from Ariadne's testes, the sound being what finally drove her over the edge and squirting all over the floor of the yurt. Drained of energy, Liriel fell back, panting heavily as she caught her breath.

Ariadne pulled out of her lover, creating a wet plop and letting the accumulated sperm pour out of the abused pussy. She trotted over to the shaman's front, presenting her still rock-hard penis to her. "Clean it, slut," the matriarch commanded, moaning happily as she felt an enthusiastic tongue dance across her cock, licking and sucking viscous ejaculate off.

She glanced over at Liriel, smirking, "So, have enough information for your queen?"

"I..." the explorer gasped, "Yes... That was incredible..."

Ariadne smirked confidently. "Why don't you stay here for the night? Rest between the two of us to keep the cold at bay." She sighed in relief as a large glob of cum spurted from her cock onto Artemesia's face, making her groan happily. "Perhaps you can use this mare's cum-belly as a pillow?" Liriel, still flushed red from her orgasm, nodded.

Throughout the entire night, Liriel felt hot. The scent of sex was still present in the air, and centaur cum was particularly pungent. Additionally, it seemed the smell was also affecting Ariadne, her dick growing turgid and resting across the elf's lap.

Rosy-fingered dawn came, and the thundering sound of hooves awoke the entire tribe. Liriel followed Ariadne outside, only to be amazed by what she saw. Standing just outside the perimeter of yurts was a giant, a centaur a full foot taller than Ariadne stood there, a boar-tusk helmet covering her head whilst powerful muscles rippled through her body. Beside her stood two other centaurs, just slightly shorter than Ariadne, with spears in their hands. In their custody was a young foal, barely on the cusp of maturity, bound with rope.

"Atalanta," Ariadne spoke warily, "Mind explaining why you have one of my tribe in bondage?"

Steel eyes stared coldly at the matriarch, "This whelp thought she could steal from me."

"Is that so? Well, I'll ensure she receives a stern lecture, and a fine tapestry is sent to you."

"That won't be enough. She tried to steal the tapestry my mother had woven for me when I was a foal. I demand something more than a mere rag. What I want is you on the end of my cock."

If Ariadne was insulted, she did not show it, remaining stoic in the face of the disrespect expressed not only to herself but also her tribe. "Whilst I understand the extent of the offence our foal has caused; I do not feel that is a fair compensation."

"Really?" Atalanta seethed, looking ready to attack her fellow matriarch, until her eyes landed on Liriel. Where there had once been barely contained anger, now there was curiosity and desire. "You are the outlander?"

"Uh, yes."

Atalanta hummed, trotting forward to inspect the elf. She sniffed the air around Liriel, detecting a particular scent, and said, "If you do not wish to give me yourself, then I shall have the outlander."

That provoked a stronger reaction from Ariadne, who thrust her arm in between Liriel and the centaur, "That is not for you to decide," she stated angrily, "Liriel belongs to no tribe, and thus is not subject to your demands!"

Atalanta snorted furiously, "It is either you or the girl. If you cannot give either, then I shall take both of you with force."

Ariadne's face twisted in shock, a sense of hurt flashing in her eyes. Before she could respond, however, Liriel spoke up. "Ariadne, it is alright," she said, "I'll go with her, if it can preserve the peace."

"Liriel..."

"The outlander has spoken," Atalanta stated, "She will be coming with me."

"Matriarch Atalanta?" Artemesia spoke up, emerging from the yurt, "May she be permitted to stay a couple of hours, to say her farewells to the tribe?"

The giant centaur was silent for a moment, before growling, "Very well. However, our prisoner will stay with us until the outlander is in my custody. We shall be back by noon." With that, they walked away.

Ariadne turned to her guest, "Liriel," she began worriedly, "You didn't need to intervene like that, my warriors and I could have fended them off."

"True, but violence should not be the answer. This way, no blood will be spilled."

The matriarch looked sullen, "I'm afraid it won't be that simple. I've known Atalanta since we were young, and she's always been more forceful and brutish than most. However, after her mother passed on a few years ago, she became a completely different person; violent, mean, most of the conflicts between tribes these last few years have been because of her. Not to mention, she has a penis to match her size. I fear that if you go with, she will not be forgiving and will rip you in half on her penis."

"Which is why time is of the essence," Artemesia spoke up, "We have a few precious hours to prepare brave Liriel for her fate. I know of a ritual which should make sure their encounter is just uncomfortable at the very least. Come, Liriel."

They entered the shaman's yurt, which was filled with a variety of pungent odours that assaulted the elven explorer's nose. Artemesia seemed impervious to the stench, walking over to a table that had a variety of earthenware atop it. "Please disrobe."

Liriel did as instructed, flushing red as her nude body was on display. Artemesia approached with a bowl in hand, filled with a paint-like substance that reeked. She dipped her hand inside, covering it in the substance, and began to paint intricate patterns over the elf's midriff, all while chanting a strange song. Magic filled the air, sending a tingling sensation throughout Liriel's body. It felt as though her body was changing, becoming firmer yet also feeling looser.

When Artemesia was finished and the magic dissipated, Liriel asked, "What was that?"

"I've made your body more resilient and flexible, which should make it capable of withstanding trauma that would otherwise seriously injure or kill. With this, you have a chance of leaving in good health."

Noon came, and with it came Atalanta. Liriel had said her goodbyes to the tribe, each member offering fond farewells and wishes of good luck. As she passed the young foal, now released from her bondage, she gave a warm smile, the foal offering an apologetic frown in return.

So, they began their journey to Atalanta's tribe. It was a long journey, made unbearable by the unforgiving sun beating down upon them with its relentless rays. Being much shorter than her captives, Liriel struggled to keep up, the only assistance offered to her being a hit on the back by the centaurs.

By the time they arrived at the camp, it was nightfall. The two warriors were dismissed, and Atalanta dragged the elf to her yurt. A special stand had been erected inside, a bar suspended on posts. Atalanta ripped Liriel's clothes off, tossing them aside, then doing the same with her own garments, pulling her helmet off to reveal curly, auburn hair. She then lifted the explorer up with barely any effort, holding her upside down. "This is going to be a tight fit," she stated, inspecting Liriel's pussy. Without hesitation, she dove in, lapping at the girl's twat, licking, sucking, and teasing her sensitive folds.

Liriel moaned, feeling a dexterous tongue playing with her pussy. Before she reached climax, however, she was dropped, landing on the ground with a painful thud. She looked up and saw a two-foot monster of a dick before her, with two gigantic testicles hanging at the base. "Lick it," Atalanta commanded. The elven woman obeyed, doing her best to slather the penis with saliva and affection. It was unclear if she was doing a good job, as Atalanta made no noise from her throat. The only sound filling the yurt was a rumbling noise coming from the massive balls. Liriel glanced at them, shuddering in fear and arousal as she saw them expand ever so slowly.

"That's enough," the matriarch said, "Get your arse over to the post and present yourself." When Liriel did not immediately follow, she narrowed her eyes. "Now."

The elf made her way to the post and bent over, bracing herself against it. Two legs suddenly fell in front of her, Atalanta's forelegs, landing on the floor with a powerful thud. At the same time, the gigantic cock landed on her back, radiating an immense heat that felt as though it were on fire. Glancing upwards, Liriel saw the head of the dick resting just above her own head.

"Listen to me," the matriarch began, flexing her penis and causing a large ball of precum to spew from her cock and fall in front of Liriel, "You are going to take every inch of me, right up until my balls are pressed firmly against your buttocks. Don't bother begging for me to stop, because I won't." With that, she reared back, leaving a hot trail of pre across Liriel, aligned herself, and then thrusted forward.

Liriel cried out in shock and pain, as she was suddenly split open on what may have been a log of horse meat. Her hymen was pierced in a moment, sending waves of agonising pain through her body. Nevertheless, Atalanta pushed forward without a care for her partner's wellbeing, grunting and groaning. "Such a tight hole..."

Liriel's body bulged out as more and more cockmeat was forced into her, inch after agonising inch. Thankfully, due to Artemesia's ritual, her body morphed and reshaped itself around the intruding member, leaving only pain in replacement of injury or death.

Finally, Atalanta was hilted all the way, her burning hot testicles pressed firmly against the elven butt cheeks. Liriel used this moment to gather herself, as monumental as that was with two-feet of dick lodged inside her.

The matriarch did not wait, immediately rearing back and thrusting forward again, moaning happily at the sensation of a tight hole clinging around her shaft.

Slowly, but surely, the pain Liriel felt began to recede, to morph into something completely different, pleasure. Most likely a side effect of being able to withstand such an assault, her body began to revel in the feeling of a cock over a third of her size sawing in and out of her folds, punching through her cervix and into her womb over and over again.