Hallow Cavalry

There is but one word in his mind for the horror sprawling at your feet... beautiful. As Farthof takes wing, the undead horde begins to march.

The elves went far, but their tracks appeared clear. Regardless of their professed love for the trees, it was impossible for a cavalry to not mark its passage through thick vegetation. The undeads fell upon the resting warriors without mercy, carnage and panic ensuring the battle would quickly evolve into a route.

Farthof observed from far, denying his enemies a chance to feather their enemy's general. the scene was revolting, but his own soldiers had no better chance.

The princess woke during the battle, and tried hard to free herself, even if the fall would mean her ****. She cried and struggled, the necromancer whispers "choose". And to her shame, she did.

Biel just happened to be the youngest of the riders, and perhaps the fairest. She was lithe and agile, valliant and brave. She fought well agaisnt the undead, but it was a doomed battle. She was the sole captive of her unit.

The princess was crying, but she couldnt turn her eyes. The necromancer evokes hallow powers as he undressed Biel, red imprints glowing under her skin. Her last defiant tone was raise her voice in song. Farthof didnt stop her, it was said the melody would take the spirit of the fallen to paradise, and he had no use for their ghosts.

Farthof cleaned her tears once she was done, and raised her chin to make her face him. In Biel green eyes he found gratitude. She was done struggling, done fighting. Farthof placed her hand in his erect cock. She betrayed no excitement, but she did obey, and her long fingers started to stroke his thick member.

His tauntness reaches its full lengh, and the necromancer holds her arm. It was enough. But she wouldnt kneel, or turn from her fate. No, it was her captor that kneeled before her, and laid down at her feet. Biel, with her long legs and perky breasts, was a rider and would ride to her doom. She slid down his lenght, her wet snatch making the process surprisingly easy, and begins to galloping his cock with steady determination. She needed no coaxing, nor would she accept any. The gallop became a trout, and from there beyond. She wailed her orgasm, an endless pitch that stirred dead horses and horsemen.

Human and elf faced each other, passion burning everything but the act. She wasnt done, dretched as she was, and he was stubbornly firm. Wide movements, up and down his cock, steady and firm. Arching her back, her next moan is entirelly different, and each stroke hits the same spot over and over. Hearts begin to beat in lieu with the fuck, faster and faster. Farthor can hold no longer, but neither can he cum until this elven amazon let him. She screams, he screams, and scores of others scream.

The elf rider is his arms is left changed, forever bound with the necromancer's cavalry. The etchings in Biel skin are now livid, the only trace of color in the otherwise pale skin. The macabre thaumaturgy is done, but her pussy was still just as tight, and her command as strong. Farthof would still need to service her twice more before the ravenous woman was temporarilly sated.