Witches of Lust Ch. 09

Cresania started up the path, walking at a stately pace with her heavy stomach bulging out from under her lacy dress. Meanwhile, I began to make love to Le'ara, and this time I intended to spend a little more time on foreplay. Le'ara was so worked up from watching us that she would have none of it. She just wanted to be fucked wild and crazy.

Stretching her was not hard, but I found that I could not go very deep in a plain missionary position. Reclined on a bed of moss as she was, she did not arch her back sufficiently for me to clear her rib cage. As a result, my cock sometimes butted up against her diaphragm, liver, and other vitals, causing her discomfort. I wished I could just slide through all of that, and fuck her straight through from her pussy to her neck, but I quickly banished that thought from my head. It would come back another day. We moved to a spot where she could lie back with her back arched over a mossy mound, and then my curved cock stretched her tummy out properly.

Le'ara had been primed to the breaking point, and it seemed every time I groaned with pleasure and signaled my own impending orgasm, she was cumming right along with me. We both came countless times. I was just as easy to please as the time before, so after a few orgasms I had to be careful or I would have pumped her up like a bouncy house. To mitigate this, I would pull out and cum rub her pussy with my cockhead, or just shoot all over her face and breasts, and then we would try another position. I promised her that I would love our child and raise them well. She taught me the equivalent elven phrase.

After that, Le'ara was putty in my hands, the waves of gratitude she radiated were simply overwhelming. Remembering that I had brought her inside my stone fortress, I imagined leading her out, thanking her for visiting me, and in this way once more blocking her thoughts from my mind. My fortress needed a gateway, I realized. I imagined a massive gate made of enormous timbers encased in cold wrought steel frame. The timbers were a yard of dense wood, each cut from the trunk of a gargantuan tree. The the steel frame encasing these timbers was wrought from steel plate that was five inches thick. I felt a door like that could withstand almost anything short of direct shelling.

I didn't know what I had done to Le'ara's mind at the time, but her mood didn't change once I had released her from my psychic fortress. She continued to dote on me and seek to gratify my needs. My needs were as obvious as my still-throbbing cock.

"I'm going to take that whole thing down my throat now, or die trying," she said playfully.

Thinking a smaller cock would be practical, I shrank myself down to about five inches. She protested, wanting at least double the size and girth, and I happily agreed. Once she was happy with the size of my popsicle, she began slurping on it. Still an hour later, she remained with her head in my lap, while I lay in that same spot on the moss and let out a happy sigh. I absently stroked her blonde hair while she demonstrated how well her mouth and throat could stretch to fit my endowment. Hour by hour, we lost track of the time.

***

"Did you hear that?" she asked.

"I didn't hear anything."

"Your ears aren't as good as mine," the pointy-eared blonde elf observed. "We are being called back to the village."

"What about the others?"

"They are performing the rite. They will remain in the sacred grove for now, and on the third day, they will will begin the process of choosing a knight."

"Like Denny?!" I asked.

"Who? Oh, Dengar?"

"Yes, that's who I meant!" I said, as we got up. "Wow! Three days! What will they do?"

"Do not worry. They will be communing with Mother Farold, in a dreamlike state."

I got up and took a look around where we had been. Despite the spongy moss being very absorbent, there were gobs of cum everywhere and the otherwise slender elf looked like she could be carrying a 55-gallon drum worth of cum in her belly. She wobbled at first, but soon adjusted her posture to balance the new weight.

"Are we gonna just walk all the way back?" I asked, looking at her with a dubious expression.

"It would be my honor to guide you to the village," she said. "Perhaps I can show you a short cut."

We took it slow as we walked through the lush shin-deep grasses of the forest floor. We walked down a path so faint I could scarcely detect it. I took in the sights for a while, and decided it was past time I learned more about Faroldhomme.

"Le'ara, what do you elves do here for eternity? Why stay in this place?"

"You say it like it's a bad thing," Le'ara said, casting a serene smile my way.

"Tell me then, why? It doesn't make sense to me."

"It makes all the sense in the world to an elf," she replied. "Faroldhomme is an exclusive place, built solely for female elves and of course, we welcome futanari elves. This realm is in the outer planes, a ring of dimensions or realms that correspond to different types of personalities. Law, chaos, good, evil, and in either case, varying shades of neutrality. They're all expressed out here. It's kind of complicated, but Faroldhomme is in a realm called the Outlands, where elves who were of good will, but not especially self-sacrificially good will, might find sanctuary for our immortal lives."

"The Outlands?"

"Sometimes known as the inner outer plane."

"What? Are you trying to confuse me?"

"The outer planes form a ring. The Outlands lies, conceptually speaking, at the center of that ring. If you don't let the names deceive you, you won't be confused."

"What about Mother Farold? What about the orcs? Who founded Faroldhomme exactly?"

"Mother Farold, I suppose. The elves were here first, but they formed an alliance. I'm afraid many of the details have been lost with time."

"I see," I said softly. It disturbed me when historical facts were lost. How could immortal elves not remember? Le'ara had not been there, but the elves that were there had covered something up.

"Of course, I can tell you what I do know about Mother Farold," Le'ara said, sensing my surprise at the hole in Faroldhomme's history. "It is said that she was once a human, a priestess of nature known as a druid. She was the mother of all druids since, for all of mankind."

"Wow, that's amazing," I said.

"Ironically, druids came to shun women from joining their ranks. By this time, Mother Farold, or whatever she called herself at the time, had already passed from your world, and she had come to live in the Outlands. She felt betrayed by the druidic order, which had never allowed elves. She felt no more allegiance to anything but her deity.

"This was all very long ago, but they say that news from your world continued to sadden Mother Farold, and when elves began to inhabit the forest, she befriended them. It had been her forest, in a sense, as she had been its guardian for so long, but she never staked such a claim. One day, word came from Earth that a mighty civilization had forced a man to die simply because he believed in the truth. There were a few instances like this, and each time she mourned because of all things, murder and falsehood were among the things that she loathed the most."

"So, she mourned the murder of philosophers?"

"Yes, deeply," Le'ara explained. "She decided to channel all of her goddess' power into enchanting the forest, that time should pass more quickly here, so the never-ending ill tidings of the world would at the least come less frequently. Then she said 'And here I will stand, let no one come close who would fear me, let no one be an enemy.' Then she became a little seed, an acorn as the legend calls it. She sprouted, and her friends the elves guarded her closely ever since. Even as a little sapling, she spoke to them telepathically, so they knew their vigil was not in vain. After that, the borders of the enchanted Faroldhomme were identified, and it was populated by the elves and so on."

"How many elves?" I asked.

"Oh, well, several hundred, at least, I think," she replied haltingly. "We don't normally hold a roll call."

"Have the numbers grown over time?"

It was obvious by the way she cast her gaze away and said nothing that this topic was off limits. I grabbed her shoulder and got her eyes to look straight into mine.

"Listen, Le'ara, I can tell that something is bothering you. I want to know what it is. I'm a mind-reader, it's just a given that I'm going to find out, so just tell me."

"It's not that simple," she said. "I would tell you, but I am sworn to secrecy."

"Would you get mad if I just happened to read your mind a little bit?"

"Well, no one ever made me vow about that. You are right though. If you spend enough time here, you would eventually figure it out, but it's so shameful! It's difficult to imagine telling someone who just got here. Even immortals have their frailties, and I beg you not to judge us."

Well the last part sounded like tacit permission to read her mind, so I visualized my inner fortress. From there, I peered into her mind. Everything I needed to know was in her surface thoughts.

Faroldhomme once had a thriving population upwards of three thousand elves. They were mature elves that had gone into retreat from the lands of mortals, as all elves do before they grow more than twelve centuries old. As immortals, they did not necessarily have to stay in the same retreat. The elves that used to be in Faroldhomme did not die, and they did not leave their forest, exactly.

They simply left the area within their forest known as Faroldhomme, emerging from its time tunnel and striking out in pursuit of...

"Orcs?!" I gasped. Le'ara blinked and twisted away from me, but then stood still.

The time tunnel made it impossible for the elves to effectively patrol outside of Mother Farold's sphere and still maintain contact with the others. The sound of their whistle calls and horns did not penetrate the bubble, making it impossible to summon help. Before they knew it, the elves discovered that orcs had encroached upon half of the sylvan forest and built their war camps throughout.

The orcs themselves were immense, almost giants compared to the elves. They stood over 7 feet tall, with broad and muscular bodies, pointed ears adorned with gold piercings, mottled green, yellowish, or reddish brown skin, two beady red eyes, a variety of hair and beard arrangements (although bald pate was quite common) and a warlike culture in which the biggest and the strongest got to be chieftain, and led the others in raiding and hunting parties.

The elves of Faroldhomme had a common theme if not a specific personality trait. They had either been divorced, never married, or never loved an elflord -- simply put, a male elf. Thus after their adventuring days were over, their time of tranquility and immortality caused them to feel a sense of loss and even regret.

Le'ara, for example, had never felt attraction to an elflord. When it came to intimacy, she was the elven equivalent of a lesbian. She never had children and she became a spinster, which didn't seem like a bad thing for an elf. She had her beauty, and her girlfriends, but as the millennia stretched on, she wondered what it would have been like with daughters.

Lesbian elves like Le'ara were rare, however. The majority of Faroldhomme's elves had terminated their marriages for one reason or another, and in time had alienated their former spouses and even their own offspring. These invariably caused deep regrets, one of the most destructive emotions an immortal can suffer.

Naturally, the elves made every effort to bring love and comfort to one another. Faroldhomme was meant to be a healing place, a place of love and acceptance. They shared their song, their wine, their myriad arts, and their love. It was the bacchanalian orgies that became routine, sexual exploration and experimentation carried out on a grand scale on the terraces and gardens of the elves. Eventually, the thrill of these events began to fade, leaving memories of how great it used to be.

Then there was Demydia. She had always been unhappy, but kind and beautiful. One day she fled Faroldhomme after a bitter argument with her lover. When they realized she was gone, the elves organized a search party. Naturally, the immortals were also skilled with the bow and with swords, and they needed to be since they could encounter formidable orc patrols, especially in the Outlands. The search party of fifty set out from the forest, expert trackers following Demydia's nearly non-existent tracks. When they left the forest time warp, the tracks disappeared but they kept moving in the same direction. They were soon beset by a legion of orcs, some of which were paragons, warriors that equaled even the best elven huntresses.

In the first moment of battle, elven arrows flew and many hit their mark. The elves devastated the first ranks of orcs and rained arrows down on the horde in righteous fury. Yet unless the arrow hit something vital, the orcs seemed to shrug off the wounds, and they quickly closed the distance to the elves.

Once in close combat, the orcs had the advantage. Moreover, there were simply too many. As the elves fought to hold their ground, one by one they were overpowered by their male foes. They were held down, their clothes ripped off, even before the last elf had been disarmed and defeated.

Every last elfmaid was raped and humiliated. Every elf had her ass and pussy violated by massive orc dick. After the first orc or so, most elves became turned on despite themselves. As the second orc, or third, hammered away, they started cumming and they just could not stop. The low, stifled grunting of the orcs was soon drowned out by the pleasured moans of elven females. Some were held up above the rutting masses for all too see as they were fucked and stretched and cried out in shame at the telltale convulsing of their own thighs.

The orcs eventually withdrew, taking ten elves as prisoners and leaving the remaining forty to make their way back home.

The forty who had been victims of this assault had suffered minor scrapes and bruises, some had been stretched past their limit and had internal bleeding, but healing potions quickly mended all of it. It was then decided, as a precaution, that all elves should gain the enchantment that made their bodies pliant and capable of receiving such oversized endowments.

In the event of such an emergency, of course.

In the weeks that followed, the elves retaliated with a series of skirmishes. They slaughtered orcs, keeping them on the run and waging relentless war on them. However, the sheer numbers of orcs made their victories pointless. They made mistakes as well, and the orcs took many more prisoners as a result of the skirmishes.

The forty that had been raped were told to remain in Faroldhomme for therapy, and many did so.

Only one or two actually confessed that they had thoughts about seeking out the orcs, to close friends and confidantes. The rest simply vanished without a word over the course of the following month, and it was not long before they were missed.

The elves managed to capture some orcs and interrogate them. A daring rescue was mounted against an orc camp. Elves that were "rescued" came willingly, but soon disappeared again. It was as if they no longer wished to live in Faroldhomme. but were too ashamed to say it to their fellow sisters. Once they had orc, they fell under a curse and were addicted. This revelation severely demoralized the elves, outraged that their refinement and beauty would be wasted on such brutish, unwashed mortals.

One day, fully nine centuries after she had disappeared, Demydia returned, and asked permission to begin living among the elves. She had lived among orcs for many years, had risen to power as the chieftain's concubine, and eventually become elfqueen of the orcs. Unlike other elves, she had a surprisingly large and firm pair of breasts, and her countenance had been etched with disdain for everyone around her.

When elves asked her about her experiences, she told an incredible tale. She started as a sex slave, a gift to an orc warlord. She soon became his concubine, and then his wife, and he had become more powerful and united the tribe under his fist. Eventually, she watched her chieftain grow old and die, and his sons likewise. She was sad that she was unable to bear him children, and she felt wicked for eventually seducing her stepsons and even some of their fecund orc wives. Eventually, however, she no longer wanted to keep making new friends among the orcs only to watch them wither and die like leaves on a tree. Living among mortals at her advanced age had made her so very weary of them, and she longed to be back with immortal elves.

Her testimony of life among orcs confirmed how strangely addictive the orcs were, how they lived by a code, how good even the smallest kindness felt coming from one. She even claimed that she had trained her lovers to bathe regularly. These revelations hastened the exodus of elves from Faroldhomme. Eventually, she realized the impact of her words, and how much she was resented for it, and she fled once more.

Faroldhomme still received newly matured elves back in this time, and Le'ara came to Faroldhomme shortly after Demydia's second departure. However, Le'ara was one of the last, and there were no more elves being born in the material world. Soon after her arrival, she was informed of "the orc problem" and was made to vow never to speak of it to outsiders.

The number of elves in the elven section of the realm continued its steady decline. Soon it was half of its previous high. Presently only one in ten remained. When Le'ara patrolled the edge of Faroldhomme, she was not on the lookout for orc interlopers. The orcs never entered Faroldhomme, which they regarded as haunted and cursed. She patrolled in search of elves who were sneaking away, and tried to convince them not to go.

It was a depressing duty, as elves had fled deeper into the woods on more than one occasion when she had caught them heading to orc territory. It weighed heavily on Le'ara, and the fact was despite the tranquil facade, all of Faroldhomme had become deeply, deeply demoralized.

As we crested a gentle grassy rise, warm lights came into view. It was a village of sorts, a collection of stately manors and cottages surrounded by orchards and the like, which was where the remaining elves had gathered to live.

We strolled down a street paved with finely hewn yellow stones, Le'ara's belly bulged obscenely. She was no longer baby elephant-sized, but she still looked pregnant and ready to pop, her belly sticking out from her midriff and her bellybutton popped out.

Every elf passing by noticed how big Le'ara's belly was. One by one, they approached her, full of direct questions about her looking pregnant. Le'ara began introducing me them, and I could not keep track of all of the names. Soon a gaggle started to form around us, and Le'ara took me by the elbow and began walking me to her house. Naturally, the other elves walked right alongside.

When we arrived at the gate to Le'ara's humble cottage, a slender Cresania was waiting, flanked by two elves.

"Le'ara, it's true, it really is true!" she cried joyously. Leara waddle-ran the last few steps to greet her, and Cresania embraced her tightly.

"Mother Farold confirmed it! Jeanie made me pregnant!" Cresania wept joyfully. "Goddess willing, you will be pregnant too. The look will suit you!" she said, prodding Le'ara's cum-stuffed belly.

Overhearing this, the other elves that were following us here all began talking excitedly, but they quieted down with surprising discipline when Cresania raised her hand to get their attention. She had a lofty and peaceful smile on her face, and simply gestured to me as if to say "That is the miraculous one who can give you a child."