Chapter Eleven

“If that is what elves are like, I’m impressed,” Prince Seberin grunted as he relaxed back into his golden seat of honor. “But I fail to see what makes them marriageable material. You have seen to it that I can turn even half-breed giantesses into cum balloons, mother.”

“Merely an appetizer, my sweet Seberin.” The smokey-eyed Sorceress assured him in a sultry tone, pressing her colossal cleavage into his ripped bicep and tracing her black painted nails over the muscles of his bullish neck. “An elven starblade is a fine addition to your harem but a noble high elf is a different matter entirely. Only one of her particular qualities is fit to be your Queen, which is why I sought her out with such diplomatic diligence.”

The amazing Queen Annarosa had gone to lengths to seek her out for her perfect son? Erulia feared she might unravel on the spot in hyper-aroused excitement at the revelation.

“What if I want you to be my Queen?” The Crown Prince grumbled, dragging his gorgeous mother in closer and nibbling at her neck. “What if I want you in my bed every night, packing you full of my magical seed until you grow fat with my sisters and brothers.”

Erulia’s heart plummeted, she couldn’t hope to compete with the exquisite ageless beauty of the Blood Rose of Bathard.

“Then you will have me, my perfect boy but I cannot be your wife. You know well that my sorcery has stayed the aging of my timeless body but robbed me of the capacity to bear further children. You must wed one who will add to the power of our royal line, as well as being worthy of standing by your side in both physical majesty and political acumen.”

“And you believe she is the one?”

“I do. Come forward Princess and present yourself to your husband.” Queen Annarosa instructed Erulia from her lofty position snuggled into her spectacular son’s side. “Explain to him why you are more than just another broodmare to carry his progeny.”

Wiping drool from her chin and mustering what little self control remained to her, the high elven Princess climbed shakily to her feet and straightened out the increasingly undersized ensemble wrapping her junoesque frame. The white straps dug into her rounded flesh and the frippy flaps of snowy silk did little to conceal the generous ivory curves beneath.

She could feel her leaking breasts soiling the expensive cloth and milk ran in branching estuaries down over the svelte surface of her disastrously unpregnant belly. She could feel it soaking through the sheer fabric of her tiny lace thong and mingling with the juices there as though to further lubricate her fertile valley for the Prince’s enjoyment.

“I-I have been educated in courtly manners and grace by the most sought after tutors the Mithril Spires have to offer.” She began unsteadily but grew more confident as the Queen gave her the smallest nod of approval. ”My father is a lifelong member of the ruling council and has imparted upon me much of his wisdom which pertains to political intrigue and maneuvering.”

Prince Seberin, that living aspect of perfect virile masculinity, hardly took note of her as he continued to maul his breathtaking mother’s body and kiss her flawless olive skin. Erulia briefly hesitated but then continued as she took a brave step towards the canoodling couple.

“I am familiar with the histories of all the nations of the continent, can speak the five most common tongues fluently and have trained extensively with both the traditional bow and fencing foil.”

Curiosity peaked, the Prince crooked his head in her direction. “Have you drawn blood in mortal combat? Tasted the thrill of battle?”

Erulia had known that would catch the warrior-king’s attention. For the first time in days her sharp mind was spinning like a gnomish gear engine, frantically turning out machiavellian ideas and strategies with which to capture the cock-heavy conqueror’s focus and affection.

“Of course not, Highness.” She sniffed, trying to emulate a modicum of the Queen’s haughty demeanor. He was clearly attracted to powerful, intelligent women. “A sword has no place in a noble maiden’s hand, and now you have secured an indisputable position of martial strength on the political stage…”

She took a large step over the drowsy cum-inflated figure of her happily gurgling handmaiden to bring herself nearly face to face with the suddenly attentive Prince Seberin and Queen Mother.

“...you should have no further need for any weapon beyond that impressive lance jutting from between your legs either.”

Stunned silence reigned over the throne room and Erulia stole a moment to take in her surroundings.

The vast chamber was fogged with the perfume of feminine arousal but the countless disrobing beauties both around her and above in the gallery had paused in their growing passions at her bold, unprecedented declaration.

“I like my sword.” The Prince growled, turning the full **** of his glowing amber eyes upon the busty elven Princess.

The fathomless power of the blaring charms and wards suffusing his towering form smashed into her but rather than quailing under the arcane ****, Erulia drank it in like a desert absorbing rain and growing lush with spring's new growth.

Her starlight hair lengthened, her alabaster complexion practically sparkled, and her uber-fertile body thrummed like a struck tuning fork with an overwhelming need for him.

…And Erulia reveled breathlessly in all of it as she crawled up into his broad lap and wrapped both her delicate hands around his magisterial massiveness. By the heaven’s, he was so big and strong while she was so small and fragile that she felt like a doll in his presence.

“Your sword will still have its uses, Highness.” She moaned lustily, slowly exploring his awesome length and shape with smooth sliding motions. Just touching it almost seemed a sacred act, to be so close to a tangible totem of fate and virility. “Monsters to slay, usurpers to put down, but from my perspective… this is your greatest weapon of conquest.”

She gave his girthy base an indicative squeeze to make her point and the Prince grunted with a formidable twitch in her grasp. Queen Annarosa had drawn back half a step to quirk an inquisitive brow at her as a pleased smile twitched at the corners of her rose painted lips.

“Go on, Daughter.” The raven-haired sorceress said with the slightest nod of respect. “How would you best counsel my sweet Seberin through the tangled paths of politics and diplomacy as his astute consort?”

“I would build upon the foundations already laid here today.” Erulia purred, sensually slipping her thickening thighs over his burly hips until the soaked lace of her camel toe pressed up against his rocky root where it emerged like a rearing python from his unbuttoned trousers. Then she adopted a coquettish expression of surprise. “Oh… look at it, Highness. Your mighty member reaches all the way to my sternum. How much of your glorious majesty do you think I can take into my tiny elf pussy? It would be a supremely tight fit…”

Pressing the bulbous leaking tip into her stupendous underboob, Erulia began to slide her entire trim torso against his meaty pole. She exulted in the feverish heat and hardness of it against her toned flesh, grinding her dewy nethers against the steely base with quiet mewls of anticipation.

Mewls which only grew louder when she felt large hands grip her still widening hips in a domineering grip to seize control of her quickening pace.

“Expound on what you mean by foundations, Princess and you might find out with a good pounding of your own.”

The basso grumble of his gravelly voice close in to her pointed ear made Erulia shudder in wicked delight. She had been correct in her calculations of his character, her perfect Prince Seberin’s head wouldn’t be turned by yet another pretty face and nice set of creamy tits. Her unsurpassed fiance was seeking a cunning mind to rule by his side and bear the fruit of his studly loins.

…and now, she was the complete package of all of the above rolled into one. All she had to do was sell him on the brilliant idea unfolding like an origami flower in her lust-hazed mind.

“Claim me as your wife, my Beloved.” She husked, pushing her cushiony cleavage into him and running a long lick up the hard pectorals exposed between the lapels of his uniform jacket. Her flowing udders left two large damp patches on the navy material. “Fill me with your heirs then my father’s voice on the ruling council will open connections inside the Mithril Spires for you by right of marriage and bloodline.”

“That will happen regardless, Daughter.” Queen Annarosa remarked, resting her prodigious breasts on one of her son’s slab-like shoulders and reaching over to unfasten the jeweled choker around Erulia’s slender throat. “Though I suspect you have further aspirations in mind for the future of our kingdom and family in that clever high elf brain of yours.”

With a flick of her fingers, the band of priceless gemstones fell away and took the top half of the hindering outfit with it. The petals of white silk covering her heaving chest fluttered to the floor unveiling two ivory spheres rivaling the size of her skull capped in stiff raspberry nips that were all but spraying her wealth of rich milk across the throne’s inhabitants.

“N-naturally, that won’t be enough to claim the Mithril Spires as a conquest, Majesty.” Erulia keened as Prince Seberin sucked a fountaining nipple into his mouth as she rubbed her pristine pussy against the veiny ridges of his royal immensity. Even through the insubstantial thong her frothing lower lips parted around it and ground her sensitive bean against his unbending fortitude. “But you can use those same connections to diplomatically compel a Princess from each of the other eight noble families with hereditary seats on the council to attend an audience here with you also.

Once they are here, your mother will ensorcell them as she did me and I will serve fertile high-born sluts up to you on a silver platter. You can wed and bed the finest flowers of high elven society, fucking them full of your glorious seed until they too grow fat with your children. Thus securing blood relations with all nine ruling families and effectively conquering the Mithril Spires with the potent power of your princely virility alone!”

That final sentence came out in a squeal as the ecstatic friction of her foaming pussy against Seberin’s shaft frayed the sodden gusset of her overwrought lace thong away to nothing, snapping it apart.

The sudden, electrifying skinship of their most intimate anatomies combined with the mind-blowing bliss of his ravishing lips upon her spouting peaks rampaged through Erulia’s young, unsullied body like a stampede of behemoths and threatened to unmake her on a primal level.

”Hrrruuugh~!"

Her gasping head threw back, glossy starlight braids flying, and her spine bowed as she locked up in an orgasmic rictus, shuddering in the Prince’s mighty grasp as he roughly manhandled her voluptuous doll-like form. He lifted her easily by her flaring hips until she dangled above the throne with his pulsating knob positioned at the entrance to her dripping virginal elfhood.

Around them the mass of admiring feminine onlookers let out a synchronized groan of heartfelt envy as they continued their own gratuitous displays of fingering fealty and nipple teasing tribute to the one true King of Bathard. Wet fingers blurred in and out of once dignified nethers and tore at expensive courtly clothing in a fanatical show of carnal devotion.

“May his glorious Majesty rule for a thousand years!”

“What do you think, Mother?” He asked over the resounding refrain, licking Erulia’s cream off his lips as she wriggled, suspended in midair upon the precipice of fateful fulfillment. “Does she have your blessing?”

“She does.” The dark Sorceress Queen confirmed with a cheshire grin, pressing her palms down over her handsome son’s raised wrists and they pushed Erulia down onto his cunt-crushing girth together. “I believe, at long last, I have finally found the perfect elven Princess for my sweet, perfect Prince Seberin.”

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