Shairi's initiation.

The wood elves celebrated that night, building a great bonfire in the centre of the village. Elf-wine flowed freely, and Shairi quickly became giddy with it, her human half making her more susceptible to it.

Musicians played, and the elves danced wildly round the fire. The flames’ heat warmed the otherwise chilly night, and many of the revellers had begun to shed clothing, in some cases stripping down to loincloths or nothing at all. Shairi couldn’t help but admire the lean, healthy bodies they revealed.

The wine and the nudity were enough to make her horny, and she wasn’t the only one. May of the elves were dancing close together in couples or small groups, running hands seductively over each other’s skin as they swayed to the drum-beat. Others had already left the circle of firelight, and from the busy shadows Shairi could hear eager giggles and moans.

Shairi was told to see the village’s wise woman, its most powerful magic user. To her surprise, this wasn’t some old crown, but rather a beautiful elf who looked only a little older than Shairi, although her hair was completely white. She had clearly already been enjoying the party – she had a bowl of wine in one hand and wore only a brief loincloth and a strip of cloth round her breasts.

“It’s time for your initiation, then?” she said. “Excellent.” She led Shairi to the centre of the clearing, right by the fire. She brought several clay pots with her. Shairi felt nervous as all eyes turned to her, but she soon understood why: the first thing the wise woman did was take off the half-elf’s clothes.

Drunk as she was, Shairi didn’t mind. In fact, she rather enjoyed the lustful looks she was getting from all around at her naked form. The wise woman herself was not professionally detached – she tweaked Shairi’s nipple playfully before dipping her fingers into the pots. They came out dripping brightly coloured paints, and she began to carefully trace flowing, spiralling patterns on Shairi’s skin.

Shairi could sense that it was a spell, a blessing designed to bring Shairi luck and health. But the sensation as the wise woman’s fingers drifted across Shairi’s skin was delicious, and she shuddered in pleasure as the marks were traced round her breasts and buttocks. The elven mage’s caress, combined with the exhibitionist thrill of the watching elves, her intoxication, and the general atmosphere of lust, meant that her juices were running down her thighs and her pussy glistened in the firelight for all to see.

“It is done,” the wise woman finally announced. “The marks will wash off, but their magic will remain to aid you. You are one of us now. Welcome, tribe-sister!”

There was some sporadic cheering a clapping, and the elves went back to celebrating. Shairi, meanwhile wondered what to do next. There were many pleasures to be sampled at the party. What she wanted most was someone to help her with her horniness – although it would have to be a girl, she thought with a wistful glance at the handsome wood elf men. Several girls might be better, to console her for her sealed virginity. But perhaps there were more practical things she could do – the wise woman might know how to remove the seal, or at least be able to teach her some useful spells.