Tears streamed down Eleryn's face as she gazed up at Malrik, her body trembling with a mix of pain and humiliation. She knew she had no choice but to comply if she wanted to spare her people from his wrath.
"B-b-both?" She choked out, her voice barely audible. "Y-you want me t-to…to suck on your d-dick?" Eleryn struggled to pronounce the last word.
The word dick was truly foreign to her tongue, let alone the real member linked to it standing proudly in all its majesty in front of her pure, maiden eyes and eager to explore her mouth.
A wave of nausea washed over her at the thought, but she steeled herself for what needed to be done. "I—if that's w-what you desire…"
With shaking hands still bound by the magical tendrils holding them away from her wound, Eleryn lowered herself further until her face was mere inches from Malrik's erect member. The musky scent filled her nostrils, making breathing difficult.
Eleryn's mind reeled as she stared at Malrik's throbbing erection mere inches from her tear-streaked face. The musky scent filled her nostrils, making breathing difficult amidst the waves of nausea washing over her trembling form.
Taking a shaky breath, Eleryn closed her eyes tightly and leaned forward until her lips brushed against the tip of Malrik's hardened length. She could feel its heat radiating against her sensitive skin, sending involuntary shivers down her spine despite herself.
I can't believe I'm doing this, she thought miserably. But it's better than letting him harm the others...
Gingerly opening her trembling lips wider, allowing his heated flesh to brush against her tongue that was flickering out hesitantly, tracing its contours, its silky smooth surface pulsing beneath her delicate touch, tentative exploration mapping unfamiliar territory guided solely by instinctive curiosity even as the mind rebelled, distaste rising in the gorge, threatening vomit.
Please don't make me take it inside my mouth, Eleryn silently prayed.
Malrik's finger suddenly reached out. "If you hate the idea so much, then why don't we skip this whole unwanted process and reach the climax of indulgence?" He said it as if he saw through her thoughts, and to be fair, he did—his mind filled with fragments of her thoughts and emotions as he reworked the memory transmission spell of hers, attempting to reverse engineer and reverse its effect.
Eleryn froze as Malrik's finger touched her face, his words striking fear deep into her heart. "N-no!" She cried out desperately, her voice trembling with panic. "Please don't skip this! I-I'll do whatever you want!"
She knew she couldn't bear seeing Malrik indulge in anything worse than what he was currently demanding of her. Eleryn felt tears streaming down her cheeks unchecked as shame warred with desperation inside.
"I—if you w-want me t-to suck on y-your manhood," Eleryn forced herself to say each word clearly despite choking back sobs rising in her throat, "I'll d-do it willingly!"
With that declaration, Eleryn's lips parted further, opening her mouth wider and hesitantly extending her tongue outwards, tracing Malrik's throbbing erection, mapping its unfamiliar territory while being guided solely by instinctive curiosity—even though her mind rebelled against this action, she pushed down the distaste rising through her and the threat of making her vomit—her stomach churning as nausea began washing over her trembling form.
Malrik laughed at her desperation. "If you want to pleasure me, then you'll have to use these as well. Also, I told you to call it dick, didn't I?" He spoke, guiding her head along his shaft, while his free hand reached for her chest.
His fingers gripped the fabric of her dress, pulling it down roughly and allowing her twin mounds to pour out of her outfit's restrictive embrace.
A strangled cry escaped Eleryn's lips as Malrik roughly guided her head along his thick shaft, forcing more of himself past her trembling mouth with each movement. The taste of his musky essence flooded her senses, making bile rise in the back of her throat.
'No! she tried to protest,' but only muffled sounds emerged around the intrusion filling her mouth. Her throat was bulging. His hand pressed down harder, forcing her to swallow his entire length into her mouth.
At the same time, Eleryn felt cool air caress her exposed breasts as Malrik tore open the front of her dress. Her nipples puckered involuntarily from both cold and humiliation under his lecherous gaze.
"Ah ah," he chastised mockingly when she reflexively tensed away from him. "Be a good girl. My dear Eleryn," he pulled her breasts closer. Their warmth coating around him, so soft, are all elf breasts this soft? He wondered to himself. I'll just have to wait and find out.
He thought, as a scene flickered in his mind. It was blurry, like looking through fogged glass smeared with blood. Faces shifted in and out of clarity. He couldn't make out the details—not yet—but it was a start.
Because this wasn't born of imagination.
Nor was it some idle daydream.
No.
This was a memory.
It began in fire and ended in screams.
A stone-walled market under a twilight sky—rows of cages, iron-banded and rust-slick, crammed with the filth of broken bodies and tired eyes. Collars ringed pale throats. Elven slaves. Their ears were shaved, their clothes tattered rags, their eyes too hollow to shine.
Then came the witches.
He saw them not as figures but as flashes—silver cloaks rippling, boots gliding across ash-covered ground, staffs aglow with runes older than kingdoms. There were five of them. No battle cry, no warning—only silence as magic howled through the air.
One witch raised her hand, and the sky split—forks of white-blue lightning ripped down the slave master's tower, snapping it like wet paper. Another whispered to the earth, and roots burst from beneath the market floor, spearing soldiers through the gut, dragging them under screaming.
A third was already cutting through the chain-bearers. Her blade didn't gleam—it pulsed, each slash clean and fast, too fast for the slavers to scream before their blood sprayed the cages. A fourth moved among the slaves, unlocking collars with words of wind, lifting children with hands that trembled but did not fail.
And the last… She stood in the center of it all, her presence cold and commanding. She raised a curved wand of silverwood, and a ring of fire burst outwards—incinerating every slave merchant caught in its glow, leaving untouched the slaves behind her.
No hesitation.
No mercy.
The cages fell open. Chains cracked and scattered. Freed elves stumbled out—some crying, others blank-eyed—but all breathing.
And from one of those slaves, he watched, heard, and experienced the scene from within. Her heart pumped with reverence and relief, her heart singing praises to the nameless witches.
He didn't know the names of the witches. But he understood their eyes—icy and furious. Not kind. Not soft. Eyes that killed for justice, or maybe vengeance.
He felt—or more so remembered—that feeling most of all.
The cold certainty.
They weren't heroes.
They were executioners.
And now his dick was buried in the breasts of one of their rescued kin and recruited members. How ironic that you'd once again fall this low, he thought as he looked down at his lovely elven witch.
Her head bobbed even though he stopped forcing her into rhythm and instead captured both her breasts. She didn't go as deep as he had made her previously, but she still took him in thoroughly while her eyes closed in shame.
Malrik's large hands cupped underneath Eleryn's freed breasts, roughly kneading their supple flesh while pinching at pebbled peaks between thumb and forefinger. Pleasure-pain sparks shot through her nerves as he couldn't help but activate his stimulation magic, causing her hips to buck unwittingly and her thighs to rub against each other—as her back, lower abdomen, and her insides began to be marked in his glow—creating a twisted sense of arousal in her body, but she couldn't see this, so to her this was a traitorous reaction.
Eleryn's eyes flew open wide in shock briefly as jolts of pleasure suddenly coursed through her body, radiating from where Malrik's fingers toyed with her sensitive nipples. Her muffled moans spilled from between kiss-swollen lips wrapped around his thick cock thrusting in and out of her stretched mouth.
Tears pricked at the corners of her now-closed eyelids, falling silently down flushed cheeks to drip onto full breasts heaving with each ragged breath. It felt wrong yet oh so good—pleasure mixed with burning shame coursing through her veins.
Her breathing was heavy and her heart was pounding against her ribs as she buried herself closer and closer to his pubis. Her nostrils flared as she kept inhaling his scent, causing her stomach to flutter.
This made her clench her stomach muscles, and to her surprise—
The hole in her abdomen was healed and knitted closed, what?! She thought in surprise. But she didn't get to revel in being healed—knowing full well her white core had been obliterated by the hero's familiar after Malrik used her own call for help against her and made her take the hit meant for him.
Her joy quickly melted, knowing even if she expanded mana now to attempt to break free, she'd just weaken herself further. That was one of the reasons she was being so compliant.
A whimper built deep in her throat as her hips jerked upward unconsciously, grinding slick folds against the rough ground in search of friction. Her thighs trembled and quivered, pressing together in a futile attempt to stem the flow of molten honey dripping steadily from the clenching channel that ached to be filled.
Involuntary twitches wracked her mature frame, pinned beneath the weight of desire pressing down on her shoulders—driving her knees further apart and exposing a soaked entrance, twitching desperately, needing something inside, stretching an empty passage screaming for satisfaction.
She was becoming a coiling spring, ready to snap at any second…