Good Girl

Liriel made her way back up to Tessa’s room again. She knocked and waited again. She was called in again. And, this time, managed not to stumble and fall. Realized, only then, that she did not know where to place the tray.

“Where would you like me to place the tray, ma’am?”

Tessa, who had put on dark ash-colored trousers and a top of a similar color while Liriel had been gone, indicated not her desk, but rather, the empty space before her bed.

“On the floor, ma’am?”

“Bring a stool over, and place it on that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Liriel said. She made her way to the desk, setting the tray down with great care, and then picking up a sturdy stool, four legs, reinforcements between each leg of it forming a small platform which one could store things on. And inside, as it turned out to be a small box with a drawer, almost sliding open and out when Liriel first lifted it. She caught herself, and moved it over to the bed, placing it before Tessa, who had sat on its edge once more.

“Just the basin and cloth, for now,” Tessa said.

Liriel removed the still steaming basin from the tray, draping the fresh cloth over her forearm as she moved over to the kaldorei again, placing the water before her.

“I would have you wash all of me, but, as we have less time than we might otherwise, you will wash my face, and my hands,” Tessa said. She indicated the floor before her with a gesture. “Kneel.”

Without knowing why, or even that she had done it at all, Liriel found herself with her lower lip trapped by her teeth. Pulled in, just a little, as she looked at the seated, feral night elf. She listened, felt as if she clung to every spoken word, and yet, it seemed as if she could not replay them in her mind, as if they slipped her grasp. Her attention too divided. She lowered her eyes to the floor, nodded, and stepped forward two paces. Picked up the cloth, and dipped it in the hot water. Wrung it out, and then brought it with her as she closed the final distance, and then sank to her knees, the previously so hostile rug gracefully accepting her, cushioning her more than she had imagined.

Between the sentinel’s thighs, Liriel remained for a few seconds, eyes having few places to linger that did not remind her of their twin, sordid encounters. Wondering, then, what the next would be. Would it be now? Had her clumsiness wasted so much time that she could not satisfy the sentinel, or herself, by offering what pleasure she could?

Liriel took a breath, trying to steel herself, and then looked up. With fingers she felt to be trembling with reverence, though, looking at her digits, they did not appear to move, she reached up and placed fingertips against the sentinel’s cheek. To steady what did not need steadying, as she then raised the cloth, and drew a line of moisture along forehead, then cheek, then the other cheek. The along the bridge of the nose, making the night elf close her eyes.

Though she had handled many fragile things in her life without much issue, porcelain and filigree and tender little animals, it was Tessa’s tattooed skin that gave Liriel pause like nothing else. She removed the cloth, wrung it out a second time, and gingerly moved it along the sentinel’s jaw, over a cheek, chin, to the other cheek. Over her mouth, nose. One eye, and then the other. Over the forehead, and then moved it down to clean the throat, and neck. To each ear, from base to tip, several times. Finishing, at last, she sat back on her heels. Cheeks, and thighs, and knees tingling.

Right hand raising to meet Liriel’s chin, and tilt her head upward just a touch, Tessa opened her eyes once again. Fixated the kneeling sin’dorei with them.

“You wish to know how to act, what pleases me, don’t you?”

“I do, ma’am,” Liriel said. Until that moment, she had not fit the many pieces of such a sentiment together, but, as the words came from her sentinel’s mouth, she realized that they fit. That they provided exactly the mold within which her thoughts took their desired shape. “I do.”

“I shan’t make it very difficult for you, Liriel. You should declare your love for my cock, without shame. You should want me to cum, and prefer it to be in, or on you. You should be thankful for the attention that is lavished upon you,” Tessa said, fingers manipulating Liriel’s chin slowly, as if once more appraising the girl’s facial features. Turning her head left and right, just so. “Do you understand?”

“Yh-- yes,” Liriel said. Blurted out, automatically, almost. Such unabashed praise, desire, such declarations of love were very far from what her upbringing and life in Silvermoon had taught her was appropriate. For her to say. For a lover to ask her to say. Despite her head being tilted up, her eyes flickered away from Tessa’s, though she **** herself to look up again. Though her impression of herself was now rather more like a cornered prey-animal than a kneeling servant. She took a deep breath.

“I… I love,” Liriel said.

Once again, she swallowed, finding no words to follow the first hesitant ones. Within, a sharp, warming crescent seemed to take shape in her throat, making her heart beat faster. Faster still. There seemed to be a continual ladder of self-abasement which the night elf wanted her to descend, and so far, she had done so willingly, and largely without hesitation. Parting her lips to breathe in, eyes glassy – seeing, but not comprehending – Liriel was allowed to sit, head in her sentinel’s hand, processing. Cheeks growing ever more crimson.

Desire to flee, to scramble for the door, to sprint down the stairs and out into the city was non-existent. Did she want this? Always, at least after having become an adult, and having been a servant for a while, Liriel had understood of herself that she enjoyed that position. It was not something she viewed as making her lesser, and it was, in a few, treasured moments, something which she had been praised for. She thought back to those moments, in particular, and then blinked Tessa’s waiting, still, confident expression into focus. The night elf gave praise, when warranted. She was harsh, when necessary. And, in truth, Liriel had thought more than once that, perhaps, she could use some authority in her life that punished her when she deserved it. And, now and then, when she wanted it. It could be Tessa, that authority.

It should be Tessa.

“I understand, ma’am,” Liriel said. Her voice clear, even if quiet.

The fingers beneath her chin urged her to raise her head, and so she did. Presented herself, her throat, her cheeks, her lips. Tessa’s hand withdrew, and moved back. Winding up, rather than relaxing.

Liriel registered only a fragment, a bite of what happened. Her nervous system overruled her, and made her shrink back, made her shoulders rise, all of it too late to stop what came. What had already happened. A sharp smack of skin against skin resounded in the Captain’s quarters, a large hand impacting the girl’s cheek, carrying her head with it until it slid away, leaving behind a momentary, white void of sensation which burned itself alive in the span of a few blinks. Liriel found herself with hands on the cushioned floor, supporting her, keeping her upright. Snapping a shaking breath, she repositioned herself as she had been before the meeting of cheek and palm and fingers.

Dedication, pigheadedness perhaps, made her stare up at the kaldorei, expecting, nearly demanding the second hit to follow the first. She could not articulate why, sensing a rhythm to their dynamic that made the second impact seem inevitable, though nothing told her as much. Had she not just agreed to Tessa’s desires? Why did she deserve this? Why did she want it? Her cheek tingled, burned, heated, and yet, she gathered her hands behind her back, settling again. Heels digging into her aching butt.

The second hit came, harder than the first, to her other cheek. Enough to send her reeling, hands against the rug, crackling, prickling fireworks manifesting in her other cheek. A trembling inhalation, the blood elf blinking irritating moisture from her eyes. Rising, once more, to sit before her sentinel. For the second time that morning, a claw-like hand curled around her face, fingers digging into her smarting cheeks, thumb on one side, index to ring finger on the other, pinky below her chin.

“You’re a stupid bitch.” Silence, for a few seconds, then Tessa spoke again. Her tone flat, almost businesslike. It was not hate that made her do this, merely acknowledgment of reality. Someone’s reality. “Say it.”

“I’m a… I’m a stupid bitch,” Liriel said, her voice so quiet as to be little more than elevated breathing. It was difficult to speak clearly with the fingers digging in, prying her mouth open. Blazing blue eyes beat down on her in a way more powerful than the sun had ever managed, seeming to empower the rune on her forehead to reflect their glow. She tried again.

“I’m a stupid bitch.”

“Open,” Tessa said, releasing the girl’s face after a long moment. Her voice was hard, as stone.

Liriel opened her mouth. Crossed her wrists at the small of her back, and raised herself just an inch off her heels – not for her own sake, not because it was more comfortable, but to better present herself. Cheeks inflamed, hair tousled and unruly from having been employed as a handhold, still aching from the previous day’s surrender, she nevertheless desired another. To make up for what she had done. What she had been made to think she had done. It did not matter.

Tessa stood, towering over the much smaller sin’dorei, and undid the clasp of her belt. Metal rattled, and her trousers sagged, just so. Not in a hurry, she proceeded to the first button, and then the second, and third, each one pressed open only slowly. Above and before the kneeling blood elf’s gaping mouth. Liriel worked her lips apart to their maximal extent, the sides of them tugging, her nose scrunching, eyes halfway closing with the effort. Even so, her eyes still remained glued to Tessa’s, where she saw herself judged. Found acceptable, perhaps, but not entirely. Not yet. The girl shuffled a little closer, remaining on her knees.

Half hard already, it was, momentarily, a struggle for the kaldorei to free her massive, fat cock from her trousers, despite pushing them downward to allow more freedom. Throughout that arduous process, she stroked the shaft, coaxing herself slowly towards full glory, though she employed Liriel’s face as a rest for that monster, pressing smoothly-veined dick back and forth, grinding against her face. Resting thick, weighty nuts against throat and chin, allowing time to plump up to full, colossal girth.

“What do you love?”

“I love your… huge, fat... cock,” Liriel breathed, the natural, ever so slightly sweet scent of the night elf’s dick invading and capturing her nostrils. A lazy butterfly flapped in her throat, waiting to be squashed by the inevitable advance of that beast, a warning that, rune on her forehead or not, the sentinel’s unquenchable desire might prove rather dangerous. Liriel no longer harbored any doubts that Tessa would cram every single, thick inch into her, down her throat, only whether her Captain would remember to allow her to breathe, in between facefucking, pounding thrusts.

Nevertheless, when the sentinel pulled inch upon lazily throbbing inch back, Liriel kept her mouth open, lips widely parted, tongue lolled out just so. To provide an unnecessary invitation, welcoming that hefty shaft to find a home upon it, something that Tessa was going to claim, regardless.

Tongue met the back rim of that monster’s cockhead first, flattening against Liriel’s lower lip under its heft. Almost immediately, she withdrew her tongue into her mouth, for fear of it becoming trapped, the kaldorei pressing that broad, only slightly pliant cock-crown forward, taking up every available bit of space laid out for it between the girl’s lips, and encouraging – forcing – more to be made available. Through slow, insistent forward momentum, Liriel felt her lips part just that little more, opening her mouth further, in a way that only someone else could have done for her. Already, the light of the rune on her forehead outshone that of her eyes, burning bright as the first colossal inch of sentinel dick slipped into her mouth. Followed by another, and then a third, relatively quickly, pinning her tongue to the bottom of the cavity of her mouth, thick, small bubbles of saliva forming at the corners of her lips, slipping out as space within her maw was instead claimed by Tessa.

Just before the kaldorei’s progress would have united the tight opening of Liriel’s throat with the tip of the crown, Tessa halted the slow rocking back and forth that had allowed her to grind and press into the small blood elf’s mouth, extending, stretching the fingers of first one hand, and then the other. Seeming to purposefully take the time to go through the little display, as if to demonstrate, unnecessarily, to Liriel that she was to remain on her knees and take, and marvel, and obey, the sentinel finally curled fingers around Liriel’s head. First those of one hand, then the other. Entwining, and fitting to the sin’dorei’s skull, allowing no escape – not that the brawn, the weight, aligned against her would have allowed that anyway. Not that she even wanted to escape.

Head so secured, a feeling broke through the straining warmth Liriel felt, enveloping her sentinel’s cockhead. One of inevitability, her body being **** to mold around, to accommodate what was given it, Tessa’s arms showing just a hint of flexing as she both pulled the kneeling blood elf’s head toward herself, and pushed her pelvis forward to meet that pull. Immediately, the slim opening through which Liriel had breathed was closed, that smooth, wide crown meeting it, rapidly making her throat expand, distending to encompass the monster of a cock that now fed inches down into her depths. Constricting, convulsing, reflexive movements of musculature trying to expel the invader did nothing but encourage the night elf, seemingly, as a long, pleased sigh came from above, echoed in a much more strained emission of sound from Liriel’s throat. She dared move her hands from her back, not to try to halt her sentinel, but rather to place gentle fingertips against the enormously thick bulge slipping, inexorably, down into her.

It should have been impossible. It should have made her double over. It should have sent her mind and body into alarm, and yet, all she could do was produce high-pitched, tense sounds, feeling that absurd girth grind deeper, and deeper, and deeper. Causing her skin to warm, to tingle, that heat slowly flowing from her throat to her lungs, and up into her head. Velvet, sweltering tendrils spiral-trapped her thoughts, leaving only perception behind, largely unprocessed. The towering, statuesque figure before her, above her, the cause of the lack of air entering her lungs. The one she wanted to please, so very badly. The ache in her ass, sparking into pleasant, weakened muscle, competing but slowly losing a battle for attention with the growing sense of embers igniting in her lungs.

As that behemoth cock pushed down another inch, and another, Liriel’s body shook with the **** exerted. The first thrusts, hammering enormous, thick dick into her face, and into her throat. Another came, causing her body to tremble. Another.

Another.

She did not know how much had been rammed into her face, her maw. How many inches she had tried to curl her tongue around, had tried to invite in, had felt cram and pound down her tight, clenching throat. Only that it would continue. There was so much left. Too much. Too much.

Liriel moved her fingertips to her sentinel’s densely muscled core, feeling there the brutal power necessary to tame her. To bottom out in her. The power that made a small core of black, edged with shimmering rainbows of color, grow to push the warmth and determination previously capturing her thoughts aside. Taking up the space in her chest, yet hollowing it, in a way even the kaldorei’s monster could not fill.

Rolling, skewering thrusts pistoned more fat cock down her throat, and she knew, then, diffuse and straining moments passed as she shook in Tessa’s grasp, that she had almost taken all there was to take. Only the thickest, innermost inches of massive kaldorei meat remained, pushing, stretching her to her absolute limits. Slipping, grinding in, forcing beads and bubbles of saliva from her, to form a circular seal around it, to then roll to her chin, dripping in long, messy ropes onto the rug. Those small, jerking, quaking strands of precum that pounded down the cumvein of her beloved sentinel’s mammoth shaft were mere love taps to her insides, things she should have savored, should have desired, encouraged, but the suffocating darkness stole from her the sensation of fullness. She curled her fingers, nails digging into skin, even as lips formed a circle around the final inch of Tessa’s huge, thick dick, as those churning, heavy nuts found a home against Liriel’s throat.

The part of her which demanded survival had, without her even realizing, taken over. Small lines of purple blood welled from where her nails dug in, and yet, Tessa held her down. Held her, firmly, in place, and was right to do so. Liriel blinked tears from her eyes, yet saw nothing. At once captured and held in the grip of that swirling darkness, and viewing it, and herself, from a distance, she wanted her nose to squash against the sentinel’s muscled form. Wanted her forehead to meet it. Wanted her lips to kiss around the base of that monster. But a so far uncontrollable part of her yet dug her nails in.

At last, Liriel was hauled back. Inch upon saliva-drenched, fat inch spilling from her aching throat, leaving behind emptiness that thumped with a murderous pulse. Her body’s demand for and expectation of air. And yet, as she felt her eyelids flutter, blinked tears from her eyes again, and yet saw nothing but reddening and darkening patches, she still desired it to go on. A part of her, but an ever-lessening part of her. Not the one in control of the fingers that saw little pits of pooling, purple kaldorei blood cling to the nails, and forge trails down the sentinel’s thighs. It was all that was left for her to think of, her mind having shrunken away from anything but those fingers, the empty black and red pulse, and the feeling of that massively thick monster drawn back up, and out. Held, for an eternal moment, just deep enough that it still closed off her clenching, working throat.

Another movement backwards, and a slim space was made for air to rush in. High-pitched, **** gasping followed, the kneeling girl greedily sucking in breath. Once, twice, thrice, before she regained some small measure of control over herself, realizing that contact had been entirely broken. Fat, drooping cables of thick, throaty saliva hung from her open mouth, reaching for and disappearing into the rug below. And still, Liriel could not calm her breathing, her chest heaving, each intake of air rising up into a thin, anxious noise. The hands behind her head remained, and, slowly, she was set back into position. Resting upon her heels, shifting just so. Her hands returning to their position at the small of her back, crossing at the wrists. She raised her eyes to see what she had done to Tessa’s thighs, and then further, somewhat surprised to find the sentinel looking almost impassive. There was a note of something, displeasure of a distant kind, to the way her eyes narrowed. A fractional movement, close to nothing, but just enough to be perceptible.

“Do you believe I will let you ****, and die, Liriel?”

“No… ma’am,” Liriel said, finding a need for an inconvenient breath in the middle of saying but two words. She shook her head, to emphasize the veracity of the answer. “No.”

“What does this behavior make you, then?”

“A stupid… bitch?”

“Repeat,” Tessa said. “Properly.”

“I’m a stupid bitch,” Liriel said. She never broke eye contact, but neither did the sentinel. And so, Liriel continued, after a moment. “I’m sorry. I want to please you, ma’am. However you desire me to. I trust in you.”

A second passed, and then one of the sentinel’s hands wriggled itself free, so as to be used to caress Liriel’s saliva-and-tear-drenched cheek. Cupping it, holding it, so that the kaldorei’s warmth supplanted into her. Liriel closed her eyes and, as much as she could, head still held, leaned into that large hand, trying to exhale and calm herself, and express the trust she wanted to convey.

“Good girl,” Tessa said, at last. She moved her hand back behind Liriel’s head, then. “Open.”

“I love your huge, fat chrohh—”

Liriel’s declaration, following the instructions she had been given, was nevertheless cut off before she could complete it. Her lips spreading, mouth gaping, that colossal crown soon pushing against the opening of her throat again. The sentinel’s strength, and weight, and determination forcing it back into its rightful home, inch by girthy, massive inch. Without protest, save what Liriel could not stop her body from doing – what Tessa almost certainly gained pleasure from, regardless. Clenching, convulsing throat musculature, hopelessly overwhelmed by the sheer size of the treetrunk kaldorei dick hammered ever in, and down.

Easier, the second time, though still an ordeal to take Tessa’s behemoth, inch by inch. But, though she suffered a few involuntary trembling and tensing jerks, as if her body tried to reject the monster, she remained in place. Her hands remained behind her back, obediently. Head leaned back at just the right angle, such that as eternal moments of fat cock inexorably pressing, pounding into her face and down her throat passed, she came again to those final inches. A handful remained, made of steel, pulsing slowly, lazily, which she relied entirely upon those merciless hands behind her head, and the brutal thrusts meeting them, to conquer. With breaks in between, each hard, ramming burst of muscular strength brought another half an inch forward, plunging into her depths, until her overstretched lips came to rest around the root of that colossal, hefty invader.

Liriel blinked tears from her eyes again, and tried to lean forward. To show that she wanted her Captain not just to have this, but more, as best she could. In truth, there was terribly little she could do, hard physique before her, against which she rested her forehead, against which her nose squashed, and those safe, but inescapable hands curling around her head, holding her down.

A part of her wanted Tessa to thrust against her face, to begin a rhythm, and piston down her throat, no matter if it would lead to her face suffering the same fate as her ass. In no position to make such a thing happen, though, Liriel instead focused on what she could do. Remain in place, obedient, and dutiful. Arms, even if they quaked from the strain and slowly building lack of air, still behind her back. Her fingers fidgeting with themselves. Pressing her tongue, hammered into place in the bottom of her mouth as it was, against the bottom of that titanic shaft, curling around the still-dormant cumvein. She stayed, and she did what she could to please the sentinel. Did what she could to hold at bay that throbbing, slowly growing, red-edged darkness as it rose once more.

In her increasingly slurred mind, it took time to realize that Tessa was not trying to facefuck her. It was another test, a second chance to do what she should have done: Control herself. Hold back the natural impulses that showed distrust in her betters. The night elf would not let her down, and if ever she stepped over the line, she would undo her mistake. That was what Liriel told herself, as she first held out. Then began to count the thumping pulse that demanded that she breathe. Five. Ten. Eyes unseeing as she withdrew into herself, holding out for her sentinel. Twenty.

Thirty.

She became aware, vaguely, slowly, that her entire body shook. Ached with tension, her every muscle near cramping, so tightly wound were they. Chest burning. Sight drowning in blurring, unreal shapes.

Forty.

…

An explosion of air. A high-pitched, sobbing gasp, which she recognized only from what felt like far away as coming from her. Drool and tears rolling from her, uncontrolled, her trembling, weak frame held up by a hand under her right armpit, the other still grasping her skull, and hair. Another wretched, shrill gulp of breath, which seemed somehow to reel the self that had begun to drift away and dissipate into the fog back in. The hand behind her head moved, and once more, her cheek was cupped. She leaned against it, as fiercely as she could, inhales and exhalations fighting for room in her throat, tears rolling, and yet what she focused on was Tessa’s hand. Palm.

“Good girl,” Tessa said. There was a thick, kindly note to her tone, one that Liriel had not previously heard.

She could not reply. Merely began to open her mouth again, as she knew she must. As she knew she had to. As she wanted to, and pushed her sluggish body to, even if it obeyed only slowly. Physically, she did not react when the sound of the door opening could be heard behind her. Nor when some stern command came from Tessa, after which the door closed again, so that Liriel could be granted the time required to fulfill her desire and duty. A week ago, had someone barged in on her in a position similar to the one she found herself in just then, she would have dove for cover, somehow. Too enraptured, too weak, too deeply involved, now. The blood elf lifted her head from the hand cupping her cheek just so, and turned, pressing a kiss to the central three fingertips. Soon enough, those, along with the other hand, found their place behind her head once more.

Liriel closed her eyes, and tried to push her lips apart to the extent she knew they had to, but found herself unable to. No matter how much the rune blazed, how much she tried, only Tessa’s insistent strength could **** her jaws apart to such an extent without damage, and so the girl could only wait, head leaned back just so. In her sentinel’s hands, ready for her soft lips to wrap around that enormous crown, to close around and clamp shut behind the ridge of it.

It happened just as she had imagined it, and though she ought to be more experienced, more ready, Tessa’s progress was not noticeably faster than the second time. Their slow union, enforced by powerful, uncompromising thrusts, very much brushed up against what was even possible, and so, the kaldorei’s physique had to be employed for every thrust of one, two inches to sink in. Liriel tried to slacken her throat, and mouth, but all that seemed to accomplish was small floods of saliva being **** out past her lips at each grinding thrust. It ran from the corners of her lips and to her jawline, beading and dripping, partially, as it rolled to gather at her chin, and then draw out into long, dangling cables. Broken in twain by gravity, or by the repeating shockwaves of movement as Tessa hammered another two inches of monstrously fat dick down Liriel’s throat. Eventually, she knew, that spittle would instead deposit on the kaldorei’s heavy, potent nuts as they came to rest snugly against her bulging throat.

She could not stop choked, slick sounds bubbling from her over-full throat, but knew by the elevated, but still measured, breathing from above her that her efforts were not at all in vain. She had been chosen over the sentinel’s duties. She gave that much to Tessa, her Captain. Thoughts beaten back again at the next thrust, trying to come back into focus. Pounded down again, submitting to the warmth and fog in her mind, Liriel’s only impulse was to keep upright. In position. Another punishing, brutal thrust down her throat, then. Hands behind her back. In place. Ready. Another.

Another.

Before bottoming out in the kneeling sin’dorei’s throat, Tessa began to pull back, establishing a rolling, hard rhythm of thrusts. One that saw more and more of that colossal cockshaft pressing into Liriel’s maw, over time, but also one that maximized friction, took the most advantage of the girl’s increasingly pliant nature, so as to coax forth an orgasm.

The sentinel did, eventually, ram her body into, up against Liriel’s face, holding the two together only for a few seconds before hauling back five, seven, nine inches, cramming them back into the blood elf’s throat to begin a new pace. One that smacked kaldorei muscle against delicate sin’dorei features, rather heedless of the spreading redness left behind in the wake of those thrusts. They came together, hard, with machine-like regularity, repeatedly. Time after time, after time, until Liriel ceased to be able to recall when she had not had that behemoth pistoning down her throat, or a time when her face had not smashed and mashed against the Tessa’s pelvis. Those sloshing, fat balls repeatedly rose to meet her distended throat, their weight and the promise of just what she was promised as her own breakfast impressed itself upon her ailing, weak mind as one of the few sensations beyond the massive girth plowing, drilling into her core.

For a moment, not even realizing that the sentinel had been pulling back, Liriel was allowed to breathe. To desperately gasp, and draw in air, and then she was allowed to encircle the root of the Captain’s shaft with her lips again, after slowly throating the behemoth once more. Held there, meeting movements that accomplished nothing, at first, then began to bounce her off Tessa’s form, until the pace of ruinous thrusts had been set once more. Two handfuls of beastly inches pulled from her hungry maw, and then jammed in again without mercy. Again, and again. And again.

She was allowed to breathe again, just once. Breaking the surface of a rapturous, endless ocean of time, a thoughtless, warm place in which there was only back and forth motion, in which the sentinel took what she wanted. What was freely given.

Held down, to the base, Liriel nevertheless rose to the surface of her mind, noting first that her chest and throat rhythmically worked. Tightened, then released, though nothing came of it. Nothing save that she almost seemed to milk that huge, thick dick. For the second time, then, she realized, fingers tapped against her saliva and tear-smeared cheek. Bringing her back. Attention rising, she noted the pace with which the sentinel breathed, the sheen of sweat glistening on ridges and bumps of muscle. With effort, she opened her eyes just barely, squeezed by just how far she had to open her mouth, and looked up. Fought to continue to do so, fought to make the golden light of her eyes somehow encourage Tessa to come.

The encouragement seemed not to matter over-much, the sentinel settling a few hard, staccato thrusts into Liriel’s face. Measured, but powerful, almost like tapping the support pillar of a bridge into the muddy lake bottom. Five, ten, fifteen times, after which, she ceased to move, holding herself in. Bottomed out, rocking back and forth only a fraction of an inch, blazing blue eyes digging into the sin’dorei’s foggy gaze, whose eyes began to roll, even as she fought to stay there. In the moment. With her Captain.

In one serene, beautiful moment, Liriel felt her sentinel rise, and tense until there was what felt a steel core within her, muscles clamping down, causing the kaldorei to groan with the strain of it. Huge balls rising, allowing for that first, sweltering, thick rope of seed to pound down that expanding, fat vein on the underside of her throbbing shaft. Molten, powerful swimmers erupted in a thumb-thick pillar, hammering into Liriel’s stomach. And, as Tessa’s physique quaked, more of those absurdly large loads followed the first. Within three pulsing, deep ropes of cum, the girl’s stomach was full, and had nowhere to go but outwards, rippling to an ever more full state with each additional jet of a flooding, splattering eruption. To the rhythm of the sentinel’s heartbeat, Liriel’s belly bulged outwards, distending with each colossal load granted her, such that she eventually broke her practiced position to wrap her hands around, and support the roundness of, her bulging belly.

Teased, perhaps, by the lengthy session of combined education and throatfucking, the kaldorei did not seem immediately about to stop cumming, though, mercifully, she began to pull back. Slowly. Inch by girthy inch, she withdrew, each pumping, heated rope filling the void left behind. As if Liriel had not relieved the Captain at all in the last few days, she continued to piston those monstrous, molten loads down into the blood elf’s throat, coming, and coming. Inch by inch, until she had pulled back so far that the final few loads not only spilled from Liriel’s lips, but worked their way up her nose, spilling from her nostrils to join those splurting from around that enormous, hefty cockhead.

Desperately swallowing, even as weakening ropes of seed still jetted into her mouth and down her throat, Liriel would have collapsed to the ground but for the grip of her head, again. Held up, her body working to try to compress more of the sentinel’s cum into her already massively overfilled stomach, allowing her, at last, to drag in heaving, high-pitched breaths. The kaldorei, it seemed, had at last pumped herself empty, and so, Liriel was given time to breathe. To hang, and recover, for skin and muscle to prickle and come alive with warmth and pleasure again, for her butt to ache again. For her face, a complete mess, bruised and reddening further despite no longer meeting Tessa’s densely-muscled form each second, to burn with heat. Somehow, the ordeal had left her comfortable and feeble in much the same way that she had been when waking, too worn out to process the new aches added to her nose, and cheeks, and face.

“You would now, normally, clean me,” Tessa said, the night elf’s breathing already rather controlled. “But, as you are still coming to terms with this position, we shall leave it at this. Would you like me to carry you to bed?”

Liriel nodded. She did not want to try to speak – did not know if she even could. Perhaps the blessing of Elune spared her enough that she still could, after having her throat so thoroughly conquered? She nodded again, and breathed in deeply.

The damp cloth, meant to clean Tessa, was now applied to her complete mess of a face, slowly, carefully clearing away tears, and spit, and cum. From the entire lower half of her face, from her chin, and throat. Dabbed against the front of the dress, even, though that would need a thorough wash before seeing use again.

“Thank you, for being,” Liriel said, halted, swallowed, and then continued. “For being so kind to me, ma’am.”

A scoff, and yet a smile, was the response. “I begin to wonder just how special you are, Liriel. Shush.”

Liriel leaned against Tessa’s chest, once more lifted with a hand under her knees, and one behind her back, carried out of the Captain’s quarters and back to her own. Placed in bed, the covers pulled up, she wondered just how long it would take to recover from such a breakfast. Her stomach wobbled, and she felt the warmth again, the lines that she was now sure glowed a bright silver-white, blue-edged. It should take days. It would not take days.