Elven Princess Brigitte: Ravished

The human, seemingly inexhaustible in his stamina only moments before, seelingly as sexually insatiable as Brigitte herself only moments before, could not contain himself any longer. This haughty elven strumpet, this young princess. Her sheath gripped him so tight it practically squeezed his seed from him, as if milking him, even while her hands lasciviously milked the mamsina from her breasts. His eyes squinted half-shut as he gazed down on her, and he erupted inside her with a volcanic burst of hot fluid! Brigitte's tiny body was wracked with a cascade of climactic release!

Brigitte's own eyes squeezed shut in pain, then opened wide as she cried out in pained-pleasure. Another eruption of anguished, aching delight exploded from her. She was half-blinded, as if struck by lightning and thunder, star motes filling her vision as she felt his powerful seed jet into her moist depths. Jet into her depths and plant itself within her womb. NO! NO! NO! Why couldn't it have been the blademaster? She cried out no as her elven senses realized this...human brute's seed had...taken ROOT in her! She was impregnated with THIS creature's child!

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!" her cry echoed through the tavern and out into the street. She felt her light, slender body lifted up and slung over his shoulder as if it were nothing. She sobbed. But those sobs soon turned into giddy titters. Another rush of excitement ran up her spine at the thought of carrying a forbidden child. His child. This man who had mastered a princess in a common tavern. She felt herself bouncing, her breasts bouncing, as the man limbered up, patted his fellow on the shoulder, and said "lets go!" The two of them ran from the still-stunned tavern, Brigitte's slick, spent body lewdly bouncing over the man's back as they ran. The man's fellow tossed a oil-soaked rag and a lantern onto the floor as they dashed out, and shut the door behind them

When the tavern door crashed shut behind them, she could hear sounds within at last as everyone snapped out of their sensation-induced revere. Shouts of alarm and cries of panic behind them, in the darkness. She felt the cool air of the spring night hit her bare flesh, and the strong smack of the brute's hand as it slapped her round rump, pointed upwards towards the night sky. She cried out, again a rush of fluid seeping between her legs and splashing into the night air, her breasts jiggling, the nipples stiffening even harder. The men had dashed to the forest! The fools! Did they not know?

How could they possibly dream this was somehow an escape? Her father. Her people, they would pursue these brutes. Avenge her lover. Avenge her. Did she want them too? The humans found two horses. Their own horses, feeding at the edge of town, and were atop the steeds in an instant. In the mere wink of an eye, they were galloping into the night, Brigitte still slung over her ravisher's shoulders, bouncing along as if she weighed little more than a sack of grain, or coins, to the man. Her man. He had claimed her and she was his. Her hands splayed across his back. She wanted to sink her nails into that back. To cut him. She wanted to massage that back. Caress it. She rested her cheek against its warmth. She cooed like a dove, and purred like a kitten. She finally realized how exhausted she was. How spent she was, as she passed out in the man's grip, her hands stroking his back and her cheek finding security against his broad, heavily-muscled back. She swooned away into the depths of a dreamworld. A dreamworld where Brigitte dreamed he was still inside her, thrusting. Taking her. Claiming her. Making an elven princess this human's vixen. She squeaked, and he slapped her pert, round rear again as the three galloped away from her home, into the night. Into the unknown. Away from the sheltered security of the elven kingdom. Away from the sheltered security of a princess's palace. Into adventure.