Moving to the Bedroom

“Oh, and ta say tha’ she was cross wit’ me would be an understatement~!”

“Haha~! I can imagine~! What sort of punishment did you earn from that one~?”

“At first it looked like Ah was goin’ ta get a very intense and very aggressive poundin’,” a lascivious twinkle fills Beryl’s blue-green eyes. “Tha’d really let ‘er work those frustrations out~!”

Rina’s painted lips twist into a loose smile as she idly swirls her mostly empty wine glass. “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 Orc instead~! On top o’ me~! Forcin’ me ta watch and receive pleasure only from tha’ bit o’ contact~!” The tipsy tomboy’s raucous giggles are accompanied by her slumping down further in Krvavy’s lap. Her long legs dangle over the armrest of the throne-like chair that she grew, swaying and kicking through the evening air. “But tha’ was ‘ardly ****, 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’s musical laughter dances throughout the courtyard. “And was that enough of a punishment, or did you need even more~?”

“My dearest love, in all o’ ‘er benevolence, decided tha’ Ah’d learned my lesson~. And Ah ‘ad~!” The lively Wood Elf women squishes the side of her face into the barbarian’s breasts, her flushed caramel cheek pressing into warm white titflesh. “Tha’ was a week o’ increasin’ agony~! Each day worse than the last~! And while the final release at the end was absolutely amazing, Ah’d rather not go through all o’ tha’ again~! Ah’m a bit too indulgent, see~?”

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

“Aye~! Aye, Ah did~!”

The Countess holds her empty glass out to the side, keeping it there for a few long seconds. “Vera~?”

“You have had enough, my Lady.” The albino maid’s voice is rather firm, though she wavers a little as Rina’s amethyst eyes lock onto her. “We... do not have a third bottle on hand.”

“Third bottle?!” Delicate eyebrows shoot up in surprise, before furrowing back down in thought. “I... We have had more to drink than I thought...”

“Aye~!” Beryl cheerily chirps out. “And this stuff is better than Ah expected it ta be~!” Her normally nimble hand snaps out, clumsily snatching the half-full glass from Krvavy’s hand 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 too sweet...” The Drakling idly yawns out, taking her now-empty glass back and placing it onto the table.

“Ach, 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 the terrace 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~!” Beryl gradually buries more and more of her face into the barbarian’s breasts, causing her voice to grow increasingly muffled. “Really, ‘ow can ya enjoy gettin’ drunk if wha’ ya’re drinkin’ just burns and is overall unpleasant~? Ya aren’t a Dwarf, my dearest love, no need ta drink like one~!”

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

The tanned tomboy’s faintly flushed ears wiggle slightly, clearly hearing the Countess’ voice. With absolutely no **** or grace, Beryl pulls her face out from between her Draconic lover’s pale mounds. “Aye~!” Her voice slurs slightly as she lewdly looks towards the half-Elf. “It ‘as been right fun~! Ya are such a charmin’ woman, Rina~! So easy ta talk ta~! Not like this lovely lout o’ mine~!”

“A bit too easy to talk to...”

“Oh, shush~!” Beryl’s palm presses against the buzzed barbarian’s cheek. “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, idly squishing and massaging 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.

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

“Not exactly.” Rina replies with a shake of her head.

The albino maid gracefully fills each little shot glass with some orange syrupy 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 liquid. “Ack!” She coughs in disgust, mouth open and tongue sticking out. “Tha’ tasted ‘orrible!”

Vera’s 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.

Beryl is far too distracted with the thoughts of losing her gentle high that she completely ignores the Drakling reach out and take the final shot glass. “Whyyy...?!” She wines in overblown despair, clutching at the sides of her head.

“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 liquid slips down Krvavy’s throat, leaving a faintly bitter taste in her mouth. A cool sensation rolls over the barbarian, 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 lips as she slowly leans forwards. Her delicate fingers lock together, creating a perfect spot to rest her dainty chin while her elbows press against the tables top. 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. “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’~. Or should Ah say who~?”

Vera’s glowering eyes glare through 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 calmly states. “But I promise that it will be quite... enjoyable~.” Her playful words are accompanied by a teasing wink, and are followed by Rina rising out of 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 at 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.”

“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. “Now ya come on~! Don’t want ta leave this fine lady waitin’, do ya~?”

Krvavy’s foot taps on the floor as she sits back in a rather cushioned armchair. Her 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 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 the albino is scowling at Krvavy regardless of if she looks over there or not, but still...

“So...” Krvavy tries to keep her tone rather leisurely and nonchalant, but can’t stop a note of awkwardness from getting in. “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. As do her fingers, aimlessly brushing over the soft armrests for the sake of having something to. But no matter what she tries to think about, Krvavy simply cannot ignore the albino maid’s presence.

Vera is simply too... unsettling. The unfriendly girl 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 jingling 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 the barbarian.

Krvavy pauses for just the briefest of moments as she feels cold magic brushing over her skin and scales. 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 the albino brat, Krvavy grabs onto the handle and opens the door. A sweet but subdued scent assails her as she steps into the Countess’ private chambers, the door clicking shut behind her.

Small purple flames flicker to life atop dozens of candles scattered across the room, filling the darkness with motes of star-like light. A large four-poster bed rests ahead, its curtains drawn.

“Step forth, oh Dragon, and shed your robe~.” A musical voice echoes around the room, its dramatic tone underscored by a hint of playfulness.

A faint flush fills Krvavy’s cheeks 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 back in their room with the rest of their luggage.

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

The sheer curtains part, held open by a pair of magical hands. Another floats out, gently grabbing onto one of the Drakling’s horns, leading her in.

An aurora of gentle 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’s body, the soft black fabric contrasting beautifully with her vibrant pink skin. Silver jewellery adorns the Countess. Loose bracelets rest atop her 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 to her trim waist. Her modesty is just barely maintained by the presence of a bra and panties, both of which cover only her most private of parts.

But as beautiful 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.

The dancing light caresses across smooth, caramel skin. Much like the half-Elf by her side, Beryl’s body is decorated and adorned with lacy lingerie and ornate jewellery. In fact, the two mirror each other quite well. The pure white fabric contrasts beautifully with the lithe tomboy’s tan skin, and the gold hoops elevate that sight even more. Her toned thighs may not squish nearly as much, and her cleavage may be near nonexistent in comparison, but that hardly matters at all. This Wood Elf’s presence paints a picture of sheer beauty and elegance, perhaps even more so than Rina.

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 eyes.

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

The difference between the two Elvish women’s voices 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.

“See, Ah told ya it was worth coverin’ ourselves up like this~! Krvavy ‘ere just loves wrapped presents~!”

“You do know her best~.”

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

Krvavy is suddenly snapped out of her daze as the magical hands 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 smiles widely and warmly as she lures the Drakling in. “Sit, sit, make yerself comfortable~.”

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

“My, I had forgotten how large you are~.” Rina gasps out, her amethyst eyes locked onto that 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. “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.

“I would imagine that the 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.

“It is thicker than my wrist...!”

An impish grin fills 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 in the air. “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 the colour of her hair fills 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 Elves talk about their unexpected lov– desire fer yer cock~?”

“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 that we discussed earlier~?”

“Hmm~... 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 out 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 bras 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 didn’t help either.

The Drakling’s nostrils flare as her eyes dart back and forth between the two pairs of breasts, 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...

“How oddly fun it is to see love battle with lust~.” Rina idly muses, watching Krvavy’s conflicted expression with 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 stiff nipple. “And who won~?” The prideful Elf’s gold painted lips curl into a smug smile.

“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 shoulders. “I would say that the victor is clear: it is Krvavy~.”

“Aye, Ah suppose so~.” Beryl idly shrugs. “So ‘ow about we give the victor ‘er prize~?”