Witches of Lust Ch. 10

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We try sexual healing on some elves.
16.4k words
4.68
12.7k
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Part 10 of the 15 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 12/04/2016
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Fetishes include horse cock "dickgirls" (a.k.a. futanari). Non-consent, light bondage, gagging, etc. All characters are full adults, over age 18, no underage sex is implied or inferred.

*****

The people of the modern world think of elves and orcs as mythological races that always fight because orcs are evil and elves are noble. The real nature of their conflict is a little more difficult to explain.

Only the most prurient fantasy art and literature guesses at the truth between orcs and elves. While those tales are obviously all made up, what I am about to describe to you is the dark truth. Orcs and elves fight because orcs want to fuck elves. Believe it or not, some elves really want to be fucked by orcs. You may think it sounds crazy, but I actually met many elves and read their minds. One, a sorceress elf named Cresania, was even so bold as to discuss it with me. This chapter explains how I learned the shocking truth of their weakness for brutal subjugation, and about the secret lust from which they are unable to break free.

It was the last day before the rest of the coven would wake from their rite in the Sacred grove. I had been getting to know the elves of Faroldhomme on my own. All of them. Intimately.

Indeed, I made it my mission to have sex with literally every elf in Faroldhomme, because they all wanted to have children, and I was the miracle dickgirl who could do it. I wasn't exactly sure how I impregnated elves who were centuries, if not millennia, past their childbearing centuries, but they were very grateful for the miraculous pregnancies and the aura that came with it.

Lucille by the way was not involved in any rite. She had gone off with a hot elf noblewoman and her bevy of girlfriends, no doubt to party and drink and fuck like rabbits. I had taken up an invitation from Cresania to discuss a matter that had surfaced while I was reading the minds of the many elves I was fucking. It was a very sensitive subject, but Cresania felt that since I already knew about them, she had to divulge the secret of the Unredeemed and make sure I sufficiently understood the curse from the elven perspective.

Cresania lived in a very large structure known as the Observatory. Its gracefully oblong, domed main chamber gave the entire building its shape as well as its name. The Observatory was used to scry upon the heavens, mainly for research and astronomy, which was Cresania's hobby.

She showed me around the place but it was clear that first we needed to take some time out to express our feelings of affection to one another. After a mutually giving lovemaking session, we spooned in her round bed. The bedroom had a star display as well, but this one was just an illusion of colored fog and lights swirling gently around us, obscuring all reality from view except the two of us. There, she began to explain to me the curse, and how she hoped to rescue some of the elves from it.

"The Elves of Faroldhomme are, to varying degrees, susceptible to the curse," she told me. "It seems futanari are immune from it though."

"Wow, is that one reason you became a futanari?"

"Not exactly," Cresania chuckled. "It just seemed like a golden opportunity at the time. Enough about me though."

"Right, the curse of the orcs. I don't get it though, it seems so far-fetched. From the way you describe orcs, I wouldn't touch one! You said they're ugly and smell awful!"

"They are indeed foul, Jeanie," Cresania said, turning her body to face me. "Often, the initial contact is involuntary. After that, however, elves can develop an attraction due to the way they and the orcs were created. After all, creation magic is by far the most powerful force in the universe.

"When Sylvania created the elves, she created them to resemble herself, but she added personality traits that she hoped would be an improvement upon the First Elf. Our lore says that she made us," she then said a few elven words I cannot possibly spell, "which means dutiful, curious, who love beautifully rendered art and architecture, who revel not just in their own culture but in the contrast with others. Another possible translation for amused is fascinated. It is in the matter of fascination with contrast that unexpected difficulties seem to have arisen, at least, that is what I suspect. Jeanie, humans don't feel the same attraction to opposites, despite what they say. Neither did Sylvania. She was a lover of homogeneity, and she believed strongly in having a distinct, glorious elven culture. Her elves did not disappoint, but some elves began to wish for something else, something radically different."

"Go on," I said. I loved getting a lesson on elves from Cresania. It felt like a great privilege, and she sounded so cute and nerdy, it was actually a real turn-on.

"After Sylvania created the elven race, ages ago, her nemesis, the demigod Uruk, became jealous. At first, he created trolls and ogres to fight and rape the elves, but the elves learned to keep these beasts at bay. Their savagery provoked the elves to mount merciless eradication campaigns in defense of sylvan territories.

"Uruk took a different approach with orcs. This time he studied Sylvania and her elves very carefully. He hoped to make a race of repugnant men that Sylvania and elven men would detest, but that the elven women would have a weakness for."

"Oh, but they're still so big and ugly, aren't they?"

"Well, I'm getting to that. Orcs have proportions similar to humans only bigger and thicker. They stand head and shoulders above human men, and are more muscular. They have straight backs, unlike ogres, but have the ogres' tusks."

"Is it true they are green-skinned?"

"Greenish to almost purplish at times, although most are green. Their skin is not as dark as swamp trolls." I shrugged at her reference, having never seen a troll. "At any rate," she continued, "Uruk's new race was created out of mud, which is well known. In forming them, he gave them an innate knowledge of how to dominate the female psyche. Brazenly giving away divine knowledge should have made the other gods angry. They should have risen up in defense of their own races but alas, they did not." She looked me in the eyes, and I gazed back and shrugged.

"So they were created to go after women, is that right?"

"Yes, Sha'non," she said playfully, sensing my affectionate mood.

"What happened next?" I rolled my eyes but enjoyed the compliment. Sha'non meant nymph, and many of the elves had taken to calling me that instead of my human name.

"After their creation, orcs dominated the females in their own race for many years, and grew in numbers before they started to fight with other races. Eventually, however, whole nations of orcs had appeared on every continent, threatening civilized lands, looking to steal dwarven treasures, and looking to capture elven slaves. Wars broke out across the multiverse. While humans of the past forged alliances with the dwarves to fight back against the orcs, elves were often on their own. Orcs would lay siege to elven cities. During these sieges, sometimes elfmaids would flee to the orcs and surrender, thus volunteering themselves unto enslavement."

"No way!" I said, incredulous. "Why would they do that?!"

"If you aren't an elf, you cannot understand. Humans, and dwarves for that matter, never acted so gallingly. Elfmaids are truly the most disloyal creatures when it comes to orcs, which is why the matter cannot be discussed openly among elves. You should thank me for divulging this to you."

I could tell she had a reason to be telling me the story, so I nodded with determination. If I could do anything to help, I would.

"Uruk's armies of warmongering rapists went too far, but the other gods so were jealous of the elves that they excused Uruk, arguing that the goblins and trolls were far less civilized, and that vermin like werewolves and vampires had been created in a roundabout way. In truth, they were unwilling to really confront Uruk directly about it because they hated Sylvania.

"Sylvania was too proud to even think of pleading her case to the other gods. Eventually the elven race was wiped out from many worlds, including yours. Uruk has never paid for his crimes."

"So orcs can dominate the female psyche? Is that the curse?"

"Yes, in a nutshell. It's their innate knowledge, and some elves are particularly susceptible to it."

"Why? Since you know about it, can't you fight it? Don't you elves have free will?"

"We do, and many of us have felt nothing but derision and hate for orcs our entire lives. It is just that our lives are so long, Jeanie, and after thousands of years of frivolous party and leisure, even the more elf-centric elfmaids get curious about thrill of the forbidden. Not that I would fully understand, but some elves begin to see orcs as a hedonistic sin, a fruit begging to be tasted. The only thing holding the elves back is fear of bondage and the knowledge that Lost Elves never come back.

"Once an elfmaid becomes the property of orcs, she is forced to live a life more sordid than you can readily imagine. They are turned into property, assigned an owner who proceeds to rape them at will. They are stripped every trace of their nobility, and their dignity is systematically undermined with a variety of techniques, using the repressed female desire for domination to the orc's advantage. Thus he indoctrinates her as his sex pet. Perhaps the most shocking aspect of it all is that they are still elves, to this day. They are capable of mustering enough magic and stealth to escape crude steel chains and leather collars. They could walk away from their co-called captivity at any time. Instead, they willingly remain among the orcs."

"You mean they want to live like that?!" I gasped. "It's terrible!"

She glanced down at my cock and smiled wryly. There was no denying that I was getting hard again, and I was embarrassed, but there was no judgment in her eyes. She simply placed her soft hand on my burgeoning shaft, and kept talking.

"That is why we call them the Lost elves, for the curse has led them astray. They have cast off their sense of identity as members of our tribe and race. Instead, they believe that they belong to the orcs, and embrace their own enslavement. They are out there somewhere, kept naked and hungry by their orc slave-masters. One of the primary tools the orcs use to indoctrinate their slaves is hunger. They force their slaves to subsist for months at a time solely on a diet of orc spend. Their willpower is usually broken long before they are allowed to eat a morsel of real food. In the mean time they are passed around, pimped out to other orcs or even groups of orcs. They perform errands around the orc camps with a halting gait, to let everyone see how thoroughly pounded and sore they are."

"Why?"

"Jeanie, it's what they want. It's their repressed desires all being forced upon them every morning, noon, and night. The orcs innate knowledge allows them to inflict heavenly torture."

"Heavenly what? Those two things do not go together."

"Why not? It's a fairly basic concept for elves, yet even now humans refuse to understand it. Oh well."

"Okay, okay!" I said, not wanting to sound dumb. "Heavenly torture? Perhaps I, a mere mortal, can buy that."

"You're not a mere mortal, Sha'non, and if you were I would not be telling you this. Count yourself lucky, there are only a few with which I have had this conversation in the past fifteen or so millennia. This subject is completely taboo for elves, but being one of the elders, I make my own judgments on who gets to know. I'm telling you because I am hopeful that you can do something for the elves that have fallen under the curse."

"Have you ever been to the orc lands? Have you seen it for yourself?"

"I have seen terrible things, yes," Cresania said. "I have been on the battlefield with them thousands of times. These days, we avoid conflict by staying in the ensorcelled wood. I can still see them though. The observatory allows me to scry on the Lost from time to time."

"Oh! You can see them?"

She nodded.

"Can I see!?"

"No, Jeanie, absolutely not. It's dreadfully dull and depressing most of the times. I can't bring myself to look most times. It's just pointless anguish."

"You can still check on them. They're still your sisters."

"Well, for one thing, due to the time warp, we actually scry in slow motion. Everything goes very slow. When you spend five minutes just to watch an orc punch an elf in the gut, and to see him just laughing and laughing in slow motion, why, your blood will boil."

"Well, that really explains how you know so much," I said softly. "So, the Lost elves are willing sex slaves for the orcs, who beat them. Whoa." I looked at Cresania, who nodded with a pained smile.

"The beatings are part of their ethos," she said.

"What about the Unredeemed?" I asked. "What's wrong with them?"

"The Unredeemed have already had one sexual encounter with orcs, whether it was a rape or consensual. Afterward, the elf fled or found herself back among sister elves. After contact with an orc, thanks to the curse, the initial 'temptation' intensifies. We call this stronger temptation 'The Urge.'"

"The Urge?"

"Yes, Jeanie. When an immortal gets an urge to scratch an itch so primal, it is hard for them to ever find relief without scratching and scratching. If they confess to having the urge, we bring them to a special refuge known as the Belfry."

She lifted her hand to control the illusionary stars around us. They vanished, and instead at the edge of the bed was the image of a broad, beautiful one-story elven house, built into the sun-drenched crest of a rocky precipice.

"The Belfry lies outside of the time warp of Faroldhomme, but still well within the sylvan wood," she explained, bringing her hand back to my shaft and stroking it softly. "Now, I want you to save your enthusiasm for these girls. I'm sure they will like you. If you thought that the elves of Faroldhomme are obsessed with sex, wait until you meet these girls! Did I mention each of them is chained to their own bed? Does that intrigue you?"

I nodded, my cock flexing against her touch. She was right, I was turned on by the notion of a nubile woman in restraints. I suppose she thought that was normal, but I had never perceived anything arousing about it before, at least until very recently. It was clear to me that I had started to appreciate the idea. I just wasn't sure if I should.

"The Belfry gets its name from the large bell atop the central chamber, which the elves can ring to summon us. It is outside of the ensorcelled wood but the bell is able to strike a note that pierces the bubble, and is only audible to us elves. Certain elves are also assigned to be the caretakers of the Unredeemed, such as myself," she chuckled, "to see to their needs and desires. Four mighty futanari huntresses take turns keeping watch over the region, making absolutely sure that orc patrols never approach."

The image moved, as though we were moving inside the building. The illusion presented the Belfry as a peaceful and very sparsely furnished abode, with twelve single beds and a pantry stocked with delicious elven rations, including an assortment of wines. The architecture resembled a flower, with twelve rooms like petals radiating from a central chamber, atop of which was the bell.

In each of the twelve rooms was a bed. Bolted securely to each bed was a chain attached to a shackle made of solid mithril. a gleaming silvery metal both light and strong. Only magic or elven metal tools could break those bonds. I was disappointed that the elves were not shown. Cresania knew I wanted to see them wearing those chains.

"The elves you have impregnated no longer feel the temptation, that initial curiosity for orc domination. My theory is that if you impregnate the Unredeemed, they will not feel the Urge," Cresania said. "If that works, who knows, we might try our luck with the Lost, someday." She bounced out of the bed, and the illusion vanished. "So, are you ready to go?"

"Now? Sure, I've got time."

We donned our Faroldhomme lacy white robes and I put on my sneakers, knowing it would be a long hike. We started out on our little journey, walking out of the village and through the beautiful twilight woods.

"Jeanie, I wanted to discuss something with you, something important," Cresania said.

"Sure, what is it?"

"Just be sure when you are having fun with these elves, that you don't take it too far. Your powers are fueled by your willpower, and terrible things could happen if you wish for something that would violate your conscience."

"Why would I wish for that?" I asked.

"None of us are perfect, and we all have dark fantasies. You are a spiritmancer who has just discovered her powers. If you can control people's wills and fleshcraft their bodies, you could - well, it is better that you think about it for a while, rather than I attempt to explain," she replied.

"Why?"

"Because I know too much," she said with a soft laugh. "Trust me, think about it."

I had to turn a self-critical eye inward. I had been aroused at the thought of elf sex slaves, and I supposed I could make someone a slave using mind control. I could always undo it later, I figured, if I made a mistake, so how could that be so bad? On the other hand, I was beginning to see how often I derived pleasure from the discomfort of my lovers. Morgana knew it somehow, and she made a show of gagging and gasping for air when she was blowing me, even when I knew she was a supernaturally gifted fellatrix. Then there was the way chains and restraints always seemed to trigger some me to think of dark fantasies. I wanted to fuck a sex slave, I supposed, maybe whip her with a riding crop. It was one of those things that I wanted to experience just once, even though I couldn't admit it to anyone else. I even had a disturbingly hot dream about all those elves in a dungeon, shackled to the wall, who I was supposed to impregnate. I had not forgotten it, and it seemed somehow related. I mulled these thoughts for a good twenty minutes.

"Alright, I think I get your point," I told Cresania, breaking the silence.

"Such humility! You humans are amazing," she said with complete sincerity. She turned to me and took me into her arms, and we kissed. I melted, overjoyed.

"Come now, I have grown tired of this snail's pace." She broke our embrace, and bounded away.

"Hey, wait!" I shouted. I started off after her, sprinting to try to catch up. Before I knew it, she was out of sight, but I kept after her, going straight.

The last time I had run, it was jogging with Irina. Now that my powers had been activated, I was beginning to wonder what my endurance would be like. If I could fuck for days without reaching exhaustion, perhaps I could apply the same stamina to running. Perhaps I could sprint indefinitely.

I went into an all-out sprint. Charging headlong through the forest, I had to concentrate on where I was going, hurdle trees and leap over gullies in order to maintain speed. It was a combination of muscle-power and coordination. Cresania's white robes came into view out of the corner of my eye, and I corrected my path to more closely follow her.

A minute of mad sprinting through the forest passed. The burst of exertion should have left me winded and panting for breath, but I was still energized with no end in sight, content to take quick, measured breaths. Two more minutes passed, and by this time we had covered quite a bit of ground. I was starting to gain on Cresania, and while it was dangerous for me to take my eyes off of the obstacles in my path, I did look to my right to catch glimpses of the elf and her majestic stride.

It was then that I realized that I was taking two or even three steps for every one of her graceful steps. She was leaping incredible distances with typical elven grace.