Moving to the Bedroom

Lively, lilting laughter dances all throughout this garden courtyard, gregarious giggles and cheery chuckles mingling together to form a truly mirthful melody.

“Oh, ta say tha’ she was cross wit’ me wouldn’t even be the ‘alf o’ it~!” The very tips of Beryl’s long and pointed ears burn a bright red, that vivid blush blending into the caramel of her cheeks.

“Haha~! I can imagine~!” The vibrant pink that colours the Countess’ skin has long since shifted into a far more rosy hue, leaving her looking even more beautiful than before. “What sort of punishment did you earn from that one~?”

Those fluttering Elvish ears wiggle and waggle at a slightly swifter pace. “At first it looked like Ah was goin’ ta get a very intense and very aggressive poundin’,” a twinkling gleam that can only be described as lewd and lascivious fills Beryl’s blue-green eyes, half-lidded as they are. “Tha’d’ve really let ‘er work those frustrations out~!”

Rina’s painted lips curl into a sloppy smile, the last few sips of her wine swirling around the near-empty glass held loosely in her hand. “That does not sound like a good way to discipline you~.”

“Aye, and my dearest love realized tha’ ‘erself~! She knew Ah’d enjoy tha’ too much, so she took the Greenskin instead~! On top o’ me~! Forcin’ me ta watch and receive pleasure only from tha’ bit o’ contact~!” The tipsy tomboy slumps further into the seat that is Krvavy’s lap, her long and lithe legs dangling over the armrest of the throne-like chair that she grew, aimlessly kicking into the cool evening air. “But tha’ was ‘ardly torture, and Ah still got off quite a bit durin’ it all~! So she gave me another punishment, and made me suffer a whole week o’ celibacy~! A whole week~!”

“Hahaha~!” The elegant half-Elf raises a hand and covers her mouth, but that hardly does a thing to muffle the musical sounds of her mirth. “And was that enough of a punishment, or did you need even more~?”

The animated and energetic Wood Elf woman squishes the side of her face into the barbarian’s breasts, her flushed caramel cheek pressing into warm white titflesh. “My dearest love, in all o’ ‘er benevolence, decided tha’ Ah’d learned my lesson~. And Ah ‘ad~!” Nimble fingers curl into a fist, lightly thumping into the patio table, quietly rattling the plates and glasses resting atop it. “Tha’ was a week o’ increasin’ agony~! Each day was worse than the last~! And while the final release at the end was absolutely amazin’, Ah’d rather not go through all o’ tha’ again~! Ah’m a bit too indulgent, see~?”

Rina laughs and downs the rest of her drink. “As horrible as that sounds, you did deserve it~!”

“Aye~!” Beryl vigorously nods, sinking deeper into her Draconic lover’s pale tits. “Aye, Ah did~!”

The Countess holds her empty glass out to the side... only to blink after a few long seconds of absolutely nothing happening. “Vera~...?”

“You have had enough, my Lady.” The albino maid maintains a rather firm tone, though she wavers a little as Rina’s amethyst eyes lock onto her, thick raven-black lashes fluttering up and down. “We... do not have a third bottle on hand.”

“Third bottle?!” That number sees a delicate brow shoot up in surprise, though it quickly furrows back down in thought. “I... We have had more to drink than I realized...”

“Aye~!” Beryl cheerily chirps. “And this stuff is better than Ah expected it ta be~!” Her normally nimble hand snaps forward, clumsily snatching the half-full glass from Krvavy’s fingers and eagerly bringing it to her lips. By some miracle, she avoids spilling even a drop of wine. “Could be a bit sweeter though~.”

“I’d say that it’s a bit... bit too sweet...” The Drakling lazily yawns, taking her now-empty glass back and placing it down on the table.

The tomboy’s tanned legs continue to kick into the air, that repeated motion having long since forced the hem of her sundress to ride so far up that it doesn’t even slightly cover her toned thighs. “Ach,” she playfully shakes her head. “Wha’ do ya know~?”

A firefly flits across the terrace, its abdomen glowing warmly as it passes beneath the opened umbrella.

That little insect seems to surprise Rina, causing her to take a look around. She only now seems to notice that all of the little lanterns scattered about this courtyard are glowing with a magical warmth.

“How can you... enjoy getting drunk if you’re basically just drinking... syrup?” Krvavy asks, a slightly sour note filling her uneven tone.

“Ach, Ah could say the same ta ya~! Or... the opposite, really~!” A not quite hollow sound echoes through the air as Beryl’s knuckles rather forcefully rap against Krvavy’s chest, up near the collarbone. Each strike sends a slight jiggle through the barbarian’s so nearly bare breasts... which draws this touchy tomboy’s attention, her fingers soon slipping beneath the straps of green fabric serving as her lover’s skimpy top. “Really, ‘ow can ya enjoy gettin’ drunk if wha’ ya’re drinkin’ just burns and is overall unpleasant~? Ya may ‘ave the tits o’ a Dwarf, my dearest love, but tha’ doesn’t mean ya need ta drink like one~!”

“My...” Rina quietly mutters, slowly shaking her head. “We have been talking for... quite some time...”

Those words remind this evidently shameless Elf of the Countess’ presence. Though it still takes a few long seconds, and a couple last pinches to a certain pair of pale nipples, before Beryl pulls her attention away from those big boobs. “Aye~!” Her voice slurs slightly as she lewdly looks towards the elegant half-Elf. “This ‘as been a right fun chat~! Ya are such a charmin’ woman, Rina~! So easy ta talk ta~!” Her elbow bumps into the barbarian’s buff belly. “Not like this lovely lout o’ mine~!”

Krvavy’s nose scrunches as a scowl fills her face, brow knitting together even more than it had been before. “A bit too easy to talk to...”

“Oh, shush~!” Beryl’s palm presses against her grumpy lover’s cheek, fingertips drumming against the patch of black scales resting just beneath an emerald eye. “Or do Ah need ta remind the woman tha’ needs an heir about yer breedin’ kink~?”

“I –”

“Goin’ ta try denyin’ ‘ow much ya’d love ta see ‘er pink belly swell up because o’ ya~?” The teasing tomboy’s other hand gently grabs at Krvavy’s face as well, working together to squish and massage those rapidly flushing cheeks. “Did ya forget where Ah’m sittin’~? Ah can feel ‘ow much tha’ thought excites ya~! So ‘ow abou–Oh~!”

The sound of a cork being removed from some sort of bottle immediately steals away Beryl’s attention. The Wood Elf eagerly nibbles on her bottom lip as she spies three small glasses on the table. New ones, which weren’t there even just a minute earlier.

“More to drink...?” The Drakling dryly asks, not sharing her sweet berry’s excitement.

The Countess simply shakes her head. “Not exactly.” Comes her cryptic reply.

The albino maid gracefully fills each little shot glass with some orange syrupy looking liquid, placing the empty phial aside once she is done. Her pale lips spread into a slightly malicious smile as she passes the first cup into Beryl’s eager hands.

Without any hesitation, the Elf downs that strange drink. “Ack!” She coughs in disgust, mouth open and tongue sticking out. “Tha’ tasted ‘orrible!”

Vera’s sadistic smile turns into a cruel grin, putting her perfectly white teeth and pronounced canines on display as she smugly glares down through her glasses. “That was medicine. In a few moments your inebriety will be nullified...!”

The Countess downs her own shot, grimacing just a little at its taste.

“W-wha’?!” The tipsy tomboy’s tireless temperament twists with worry.

“Soon you will be as sober as you were when you entered this garden!” The aggressive maid seems quite pleased with herself, enjoying the Wood Elf’s suffering. “As if you had not consumed even a drop of alcohol!”

Beryl is far too distracted with the thought of losing her gentle high that she completely ignores the Drakling reach past her, taking that final shot glass. “Whyyy...?!” She wines in overblown despair, clutching at the sides of her head and leaning so far forward that her face so nearly bumps into her knees.

“It would do us no good to be drunk this eve.” Rina calmly states, taking a long and deep breath.

“But Ah was ‘avin’ fun...!”

The oily medicine slips down Krvavy’s throat, leaving a faintly bitter taste in her mouth. A cool sensation soon rolls through her, causing goosebumps to pop up all over her pale skin. In a matter of moments, her mind begins to clear. The haze clouding up her head, one that she didn’t even realize was there, gradually fades away, taking with it a weight off of her shoulders.

“You were, but Krvavy... didn’t appear to be. Besides,” a lewd smile plays at Rina’s painted lips as she slowly leans forward. Her delicate fingers lock together, creating a perfect spot to rest her dainty chin while her elbows press against the top of this patio table. The almond-shaped amethyst on her necklace points down into her vibrant pink cleavage, drawing attention to those alluring breasts of hers, that view framed by her arms and the window in her dress. “Do you really want to be drunk for what awaits us next~?”

Beryl shudders slightly, but perks up nonetheless. Her long ears quiver in growing excitement. “Tha’d depend on just wha’ we’d be doin’~.” The lack of subtly to that statement is immediately tossed away. “Or should Ah say who~?”

Vera’s glowering eyes glare through the thick lenses of her glasses, levelled directly onto the two uncouth lovers and refusing to leave them. Her gloved hands meticulously gather up the dishes, placing them back onto the trolley with an admirable amount of grace and dexterity.

“There is no reason for me to spoil that surprise.” The Countess quite calmly states. “But I promise that this will be an enjoyable eve~.” With just a teasing wink, Rina rises from her seat.

Both Beryl and the barbarian can’t help but watch the alluring half-Elf, captivated by that pink-skinned woman’s beauty. Somehow, Krvavy is the first to snap out of that daze. “Come on, get up.” She idly mutters, poking the Elf in her lap.

“Nnnhh, can’t ya carry me~?” Beryl whines a little, not taking her eyes off of Rina’s bright pink cleavage.

Krvavy just stares at the back of her tanned tomboy’s head, before grabbing onto her sweet berry’s slim waist. “Tsk,” she clicks her tongue in mock disappointment. “I’ve spoiled you enough already.”

Rather vehemently, that tomboy shakes her head. “Ya can never spoil me too much!”

Beryl’s less than serious protest goes completely ignored as she is lifted up and out of the Drakling’s lap. The Wood Elf’s sandalled feet press into the well-maintained paving stones as she is made to stand up against her will.

“Ach, if ya won’t carry me, then Ah’ll just ‘ave ta do this~!” A rather smug grin spreads across the teasing tomboy’s face as she... grabs onto Krvavy’s hand, their fingers interlocking. “Now ya come on~! Don’t want ta leave this fine lady waitin’, do ya~?”

Krvavy repeatedly taps her inhuman foot against the carpet covering this nice hardwood floor, fingers copying that motion to drum against the armrest of the rather cushioned chair she has found herself sitting in. Her emerald eyes idly trail across filled bookshelves, skipping over the empty fireplace beside her. She tries to act casual and not at all impatient as she waits in this fancy reading room.

Which is a very difficult task.

Acting casual, that is.

The Drakling can’t help but occasionally glance over towards the other occupant of this room. Each brief look earns her a rather hostile scowl. Well, technically that aggressive albino of a maid is scowling at Krvavy regardless of if she looks over there or not, but still...

“So...” An attempt is made to keep Krvavy’s tone rather leisurely and nonchalant. But she just can’t stop a note of awkwardness from weaseling its way into her words. “How’re you doing?”

Predictably, Vera does not respond.

The barbarian shuffles in place, growing more uncomfortable by the second. With nothing else to do, her mind begins to wander. But no matter what she tries to think about, Krvavy simply cannot ignore the albino maid’s presence.

Vera is simply too... unsettling. That unfriendly brat barely even blinks. She just stares and stares and stares even more...

There is just something unnatur–

“The Countess is ready for you now.” Vera suddenly speaks up, talking over the faint sound of a ringing bell.

Krvavy jumps to her feet, not wasting even a second. She doesn’t care about coming across as too eager. Not right now, at least.

Vera’s scowl intensifies as the Drakling walks towards the door to Rina’s bedroom. She discretely pulls a white and black featherduster from a pocket hidden within her apron, before subtly waving the thing towards this barbaric guest.

Krvavy pauses for just the briefest of moments as she feels cold magic brushing over her skin and scales. Her heart skips a beat, but her instincts reassure her worries, saying that Vera just cast some sort of cleaning spell on her... almost certainly as an insult.

Choosing to ignore that albino brat, Krvavy grabs the handle in front of her and twists it open. A sweet but subdued scent assails her senses as she steps into the Countess’ private chambers, the door clicking shut behind her.

Small purple flames flicker to life atop dozens of scattered candles, motes of star-like light piercing through the shrouding darkness. A large and familiar four-poster bed rests ahead, its curtains drawn.

“Step forth, oh Dragon, and shed your robe~.” A musical voice echoes around the room, those otherwise dramatic words made playful by the echo of laughter.

A faint flush fills Krvavy’s face as she is reminded of just what she is wearing. Her fingers self-consciously brush across the soft and fluffy fabric of the bright pink bathrobe that Beryl made her put on after they left their clothes with the rest of their luggage, in the room that they almost certainly won’t be sleeping in.

That embarrassing bathrobe drops to the floor in a matter of moments.

The slightly sheer curtains part a second later, held open by a pair of disembodied hands made of gently glowing amethyst mana. Another such hand floats out, gently grabbing onto one of the Drakling’s horns, leading her in.

An aurora of soft and serene light dances across the ceiling of this enclosed bed, but Krvavy hardly pays attention to that. Her eyes are, naturally, drawn to the two near-naked women in front of her.

Lacy lingerie decorates Rina from head to toe, black fabric contrasting beautifully with her vibrant pink skin and the silver jewellery which further adorns her. Loose bracelets rest atop the Countess’ detached sleeves, matched by similar hoops around her ankles. The supple flesh of her thighs is indented and squished in such a wonderful way...

Those stockings look tight enough to not need garter, but are nonetheless attached to straps that lead up to lacy belt clinging tight to her trim waist. Pulled over those straps sits some incredibly snug panties, doing nothing to maintain her modesty as they so perfectly outline her puffy pink pussy. Likewise, a bra with cups so thin that the outlines of her nipples are visible for all to see has come to contain her large, round breasts.

But as attractive and alluring as Rina is... she cannot hope to compare to the true Elf right beside her. The less than innocent love that Krvavy feels for Beryl overpowers her lust for the Countess.

Like moonlight shining through the canopy of a forest... like starlight shining through the surface of a woodland lake... like the morning sun piercing through countless clouds... Rippling beams caress across caramel coloured skin. White lace, pure and almost bridal in appearance, shines like fresh snow on a clear winters night. Bands of gold glimmer beneath the swirling aurora. An ethereal glow surrounds this wonderful Wood Elf, as otherworldly and beautiful as she is.

Both women laying before the barbarian – one full-figured and sensual, the other so lithe and enchanting – are dressed near identical to each other, the only differences to be found in their proportions and in their colours. Tanned tomboy and glamorous noblewoman alike paint a picture of refined elegance, of delicate beauty and gorgeous grace.

That image does not last long though, getting spoiled as soon as Beryl’s golden lips part. “At a loss fer words~?” She teasingly asks, a mischievous glint filling her blue-green gaze.

“I do believe that she is~.” Rina responds, her lustful tone a wonderful mix of elegance and anticipation.

The difference between the voices of these two Elvish women is like night and day. No matter how much Krvavy may love Beryl’s accent and the way that she speaks, Rina’s voice is simply more... alluring. The Countess knows well how to keep others clinging to her every word.

“See, Ah told ya it was worth coverin’ ourselves up like this~!” Smug laughter underlines Beryl’s bragging, that tomboy’s longer ears wiggling away with joy. “Krvavy ‘ere just loves wrapped presents~!”

Lips painted a deep and impenetrable black curl at their corners. “You do know her best~.”

The curtains gently swish as they are dropped back into place.

Krvavy is suddenly snapped free from this distracted daze as hands made of magic softly press into her back, glowing copies of Rina’s delicate fingers glancing across her skin. Those summoned hands push against the black scales on her shoulders, transferring an odd but not unpleasant tingling sensation throughout the barbarian’s body as they lightly urge her forwards.

“Come ta us, my dearest love~!” Beryl’s smile grows wider and warmer as she lures this Dragon in with greater ease than any siren. “Sit, sit, make yerself comfortable~.”

The Drakling’s dick impatiently throbs, demanding attention as it stands tall in the air.

“My, I had forgotten how large you are~.” Rina gasps, her amethyst eyes locked right onto that rigid, ridged rod. “How can a woman as slim as you take something of this size?”

“Wit’ difficulty~.” The Wood Elf playfully answers, settling in beside the barbarian. Her lithe, lingerie clad body presses into Krvavy’s side, sharing her heat. Her need. “The whole length is far too much fer me ta ‘andle, but the thickness ain’t so bad once ya get used ta it~.” Her tone remains rather casual, even as a certain thick tail twists to the side and wraps around her hips. The happy wiggling of her ears grows a bit more intense and erratic.

“I would imagine that its girth would be the bigger problem.” A measure of skepticism enters Rina’s voice as she gracefully mirrors the tanned tomboy, pressing into Krvavy’s left. “The swollen head alone is nearly the size of my fist. Perhaps larger...”

“Aye, but tha’ fist o’ yers is dainty and delicate, so it is ‘ardly a fair comparison~!” Beryl’s nimble fingers trail and dance over the Drakling’s toned thigh, teasing that stiff shaft by getting close but never quite touching it.

A scoffed sigh passes through those black, painted lips. “It is thicker than my wrist...!”

Those words, and the tone they were spoken in, see an impish grin fill Beryl’s face. “Ya know, fer a women who claims ta only be attracted ta other women, ya ‘ave quite the fascination wit’ my dearest love’s cock~!”

Rina’s faint exasperation fades away as she raises a single eyebrow and meet the Wood Elf’s gaze. “From what you have said over dinner, I could say much the same about you.”

“Ya could, ya could~. Ah won’t deny tha’~.” A single nimble finger playfully pokes at the restless rod, causing it to bob up and down. “This right ‘ere is the single most manly thing Ah ‘ave ever loved in such a way~. And Ah take so much joy in the fact tha’ it is attached ta such a beautiful and imposin’ woman~!”

“I... must agree with that.” Rina slowly shakes her head, sounding almost surprised with herself. “I have hardly spent any time with your Krvavy, and yet I do believe that she has opened my eyes to certain... desires. I am not a man-hater, yet I do take some delight from the fact that this towering pillar of masculinity is attached to a woman. And one with such a dominating physique.”

A blush that rivals her crimson hair in its shade of red has come to colour Krvavy’s cheeks. “Uh... Are you two just going to talk, or...?”

“Ach, don’t be so impatient~!” Beryl’s scolding tone has absolutely no bite to it, and not just because her dexterous fingers have finally wrapped around the Drakling’s dick. “Can’t a couple o’ Elves talk about their unexpected lov– desire fer yer dick~?”

“Now now, Beryl,” the Countess gently reprimands the tomboy, a smile playing at her painted lips. “That is a fair question that Krvavy has asked. Will we just talk the night away, or would you like to enact the plan which we discussed earlier~?”

“Hmm~...” A single finger, the trimmed nail at its tip glimmering with a gold polish, taps at the tomboy’s chin. “Tha’ is a tough choice~... Ah do quite like teasin’ my dearest love~...”

Rina simply shakes her head and reaches behind her back. “If you are hesitant, then I shall make the decision~.” A soft click rings through the air moments before the Countess’ lacy bra slips off, exposing her vibrant pink breasts.

Not to be left out, Beryl quickly moves to do the same. Though her lack of familiarity with such fancy lingerie leaves her fumbling with the clasp for a couple seconds. The fact that she is also only using one hand, keeping the other on Krvavy’s cock, definitely doesn’t help either.

The Drakling’s nostrils flare as her eyes dart back and forth between the two pairs of tits, unsure where her gaze should settle. Part of her wants to stare, to gawk, at Rina’s pink globes. They’re large and round, almost perfect in size and shape. They are exotic. A sight that Krvavy has only seen a few times before. But Beryl’s pert mounds draw her in just as much, despite their smaller size and how frequently she sees them... despite how frequently she gets to indulge in and enjoy them...

“How oddly fun it is to see love battle with lust~.” Rina absentmindedly muses, watching Krvavy’s conflicted expression with open amusement.

Beryl’s shoulder rubs into her Draconic lover’s side, prompting Krvavy’s arm to lift up and wrap around her. That, naturally, leads to the Drakling’s large hand cupping one of her comparatively tiny tits, palm pressing against a stiff nipple. “And who won~?” This prideful Wood Elf’s gold painted lips curl into a smug smile, the flushed tips of her ears twitching to the rapid beat of her heart.

“Ignoring that lust fought on both sides,” a playful twinkle fills the Countess’ amethyst eyes as she once again mirrors Beryl, guiding Krvavy’s arm to its place around her delicate shoulders. “I would say that the victor is clear: it is Krvavy~.”

“Aye, Ah suppose so~.” Beryl idly shrugs, nimble fingers giving her lover’s sizable shaft a soft squeeze. “So ‘ow about we give the victor ‘er prize~?”