“Your tongue will do.”

You see a brief flash of fear in her eyes, and she quickly shakes her head “p-plea- … it won’t take but a moment to make, master.”

It’s been a while since she’s pleaded with you, maybe you need to grease the wheels a little. “Sit on the couch and wait for me, that’s an order.”

Having heard an explicit command, and not daring to disobey it for even a moment, Arwen rushes to take a seat, gently grasping the front of her dress and speed walking to the sofa.

You make your way into the bedroom, and with practised ease pull the fake book on the bookshelf, opening up the hidden lab.

Your laboratory is a small, cluttered room, filled with exotic plants, drying racks, scales, paint shakers, and a number of small cages containing many identical ill tempered fairies.

As soon as you enter the room the displeased clatter of dozens of bells sings off, a noise you’ve grown used to ignoring.

Examining Sevens work, you find the various desks and stations are cleanlier and more organized than ever, and sitting on three separate scales are three identically sized piles of Love Dust awaiting packaging.

In its pink base form, the effects of Love Dust are quite simple, merely flooding the brain with Oxytocin and a little Dopamine. The red and purple varieties however, also act as a stimulant and depressant respectively, or an “upper” and “downer” if you prefer.

Taking your middle finger, you gently place and roll it on the pile of pink and gold dust. Even dry, a sizeable amount of the dust and nearly triple the recommended dose clings to you.

Turning your finger upright, you exit the lab and shut the door behind you, the soundproofed wall immediately silencing the Angry fairies inside.

As you return to Arwen, you see her blue eyes flicker to your finger in recognition, and she unconsciously shifts in her seat, clearly anticipating your gift.

“Now Arwen, you’ve been a very good elf for me recently.”

She nods in response, eyes looking up to you doe-like, and obedient. A dignified elven woman, allowing herself to be talked down to like a child.

“Do you think you deserve a treat?” Arwen looks in thought for a brief moment, but soon replies “that is… your decision to make Master”

You grin at that, “I’ve made it, don’t prove me wrong”

You hold out your hand towards her expectantly, and you see both delight, relief, and a deep shame cross her face as Arwen closes her eyes, and leans in, taking your middle finger into her mouth and gently sucking.

The effects on her are almost immediate, as you see her entire body shiver and convulse for a moment. Tears of overwhelming joy begin to form in the corners of her eyes as her brain is practically power-washed with hormones.

When she finally pulls away, her thick juicy lips parting your finger with an audible pop, you stroke her hair and softly whisper to her “I love you Arwen”

A stifled sob shakes her, and she softly cries out to you, “and I- *hu* -love you James.”

Arwen suddenly wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you close to her. From her sitting and your standing positions, her head ends up nuzzled into your crotch.

Taking her by the shoulders, you gently pull her away, guiding both of your bodies until you’re sitting, and she’s kneeling in front of you in the floor.

You shimmy your boxers off with one hand, and your still throbbing cock springs out wildly, bonking Arwen on the nose and flinging a trail of your slimy precum across her forehead.

She winces, and shuts her eyes tightly as you lay your cock over her face, measuring your manhood against her head.

With your balls pressed against her chin, your shaft alone covers the full height of her face and hair, your large glans sticking out a further few inches above her.

“Are you gonna be a good little elf for me and clean me up?” Arwen lets out a shaky breath against your cock, and silently gets to work.

She starts with your sack, tilting her head lower and running her warm, wet tongue across your balls in long fluid strokes. Each time she does so her brow tightens, and you can see even in her heavily **** state she’s struggling to not hurl.

She makes multiple passes over them, seemingly becoming used to being a living washcloth as she makes less of a face with every stroke.

Your sack thoroughly washed by now, you roughly grab a fistful of her hair and pull her higher.

Arwen seems to understand your intent, and quickly grabs hold of your cock, presses her full pouty lips against it with her mouth slightly open, and sloppily slurps away at your shaft one patch of skin at a time.

She makes an upwards spiralling pattern, trailing up your immense length with a loud series of slurps and pops, drawing ever closer to your tip.

As you soak in the unique and pleasurable sensation of her lips on you, It takes her a few minutes to reach your tip, and when she eventually does you feel her pause.

Looking down, your glans are swimming in a steady stream of precum that Arwen is eyeing warily.

You can feel a tightness building in your sack, and a steady throbbing pulse in your cock, you know you’re getting dangerously close already.

“Maybe it’s best if we leave that for the grand finally, hmm?” Arwen nods quickly, happy to put it off.

Raising your arms you elaborate, “you still have allot more ground to cover, after all.”

Arwen makes quick and easy work of your underarms, then being the sole place you’ve bothered to spot clean recently, as you lean over the couch and spread your ass for her however, you hear a barely audible whimper come from the young elven woman.

Eventually Arwen completes her humiliating task, and when she does you’re surprised to find it’s made for a genuinely effective cleaning. The elven tongue is a wonderful thing.

With tears running down her face, Arwen leans in to kiss you unprompted, a gesture you push away upon seeing the various stray body hairs strewn upon her chin and lips.

Shaking your head, you gesture down, lazily tugging your swollen dick a few times for emphasis. “Time for the main event”

Arwen weakly smiles at this, and after a final dry retch, pulls from between her chest a delicately patterned piece of elven cloth to wipe her face with, before saying “then, James… let us go the bed, and make love properly.”

You hear an almost questioning tone in her voice, and you cant help but feel slightly bad at the genuine attempt to make the best of your “relationship” together.