Kulrakan

Facing Kulrakan, is Lavorra able to keep him at bay?

Yes/No (Even) - [5,1] Yes but... Kulrakan subjects her to traumatic visions and experiences

How bad is Kulrakan’s treatment of Lavorra?

How Much - [1] Surprisingly lacking - Lavorra’s **** is mental, for the most part

Topic Focus: [2S] Current Need (mystical) - Lavorra is lost in a series of magical visions and sensations

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Vast, powerful hands emerge from the portal first, gripping its sides as though parting heavy doors, and Kulrakan follows them through. Four hands. Four arms.

He steps into the chamber, naked and yet domineering powerful. The musk hits her first, like a rogue wave, intoxicating and arousing, but entirely indescribable. He is, indeed, close to seven foot, dwarfing her as he takes a step closer, already baring down on her. His skin is a greyish-purple, smooth and beautifully sculpted across perfect musculature that forces her body to react with lust and desire. His head is crowned by a ring of small, impossibly sharp horns. And between his powerful legs swing twin members, one atop the other, already thick and hardening.

“I’ve heard so much about you, little Paladin.” Comes Kulrakan’s sickly-sweet voice. This is what breaks the spell. Despite his seductive tones, she shivers, taking a step back, hand dropping to the hilt of her sword.

“No, you won’t need that. Unless you want me to use it.” He coos, matching her step, his body almost touching hers. The sword drops from her belt, and her armour follows, slipping uselessly from her body, leaving her in her simple shirt and britches. Her icon rattles at her wrist, where she has rebound it, but stays, thankfully.

“You don’t touch me, or her. Ever.” She grits her teeth, standing her ground, willing divine might into her amulet.

He looks at her as if regarding an adorable kitten. “Oh but I do, little one.”

She gasps, hands flying up to stop him, but to no avail. One slender finger touches her chest, sliding down to nestle in her cleavage, his needle-like nail drawing blood with ease. And her mind explodes with images and sensation.

Melira, stripped and ****, on her knees before Kulrakan, who lounges in a jagged throne.

Chosen as his concubine, not for breeding, but for his pleasure, and the slow parasitic draining of her powerful magic.

Melira, one limb held by each of Kulrakan’s hands, her body splayed to allow his impossibly long tongue inside her. Lavorra hears herself scream as she feels the organ searching relentlessly within Melira - within Lavorra - as deep as it is possible to enter, and deeper.

The Fleshworks in full use, Human and Elven women are sorted and taken roughly, by Daemon after Daemon; Melira bent over the balcony **** to watch as Kulrakan leans over her, chest pressed to her back, taking her in both holes with ruthless thrusts. Her cries mix with the chorus of grunts, wails, **** moaning that fills the awful chamber.

Melira lays on her front, her soft, pillowy tits wrapped obediently around one of Kulrakan’s thick cocks, while the other slips between her lips, sucked, licked, worshipped by the Dark Elf in a trance of pure submission.

Then it is Lavorra who bobs her head up and down on Kulrakan’s members, alternating greedily. Lavorra who bounces atop them both; Lavorra who chokes as his dexterous tongue constricts her throat, impaled on his cocks, lashed and raked with wicked nails.

She feels heat rising inside her, and pressure on her stomach. Is this real? Is there anything but this? Bliss mixed with agony.

She screams again.