Deep Elves!

You can’t bring yourself to care about your observer. In fact, the thought that someone is watching you betray your oath of chastity (in spirit if not in letter) just turns you on more. Supporting yourself on one hand, you raise your butt up in the air and struggle to pull down your riding pants, never taking your mouth from the woman’s pussy. As soon as you feel the warm, humid air of the cave on your wet pussy you stick your hand between your thighs and desperately finger yourself. You hope the display is turning your unseen watchers on.

You hear footsteps approach, but it’s only when you feel a stinging slap to your arse that you look around.

Three figures stand behind you – two male and one female. They are clearly not human. Their unblemished skin is the colour of milk, and their eyes are big and dark, like shadowy pools. Their faces are heartbreakingly beautiful, and their ears are long and pointed. All three of them are wearing clothes that show off their perfect, slender bodies. The men wore mainly leather straps, while the woman was clad in brief bands diaphanous purple silk that barely covered her pale breasts.

Deep Elves! The part of you that’s not still overcome with lust feels fear and curiosity in equal measure. You knew something of their evil kind. One of the books in the abbey library was a memoir by a woman who had spent some time as a **** in one of their underground cities. She described some of the depravities she’d been subjected to in eager, salacious detail, while at the same time offering tantalising hints of even stranger experiences that she refrained from committing to paper. To a novice of the Burning Rose, it was fascinatingly alien, and like many of your sisters, you had on occasion snuck the book into your room and read it late at night, your hands often drifting between your thighs as you did.

“Well, well,” the female says, her long, delicate fingers caressing your backside. “It seems our bait caught an unusual prize.”

“Makes a change from finding some cave-bear or troll balls-deep in her cunt,” one of her companions says. The Deep Elves have strange, melodious voices that send delicious shivers through you. Still drunk with lust, you return your mouth to the human woman’s gushing slit, revelling in the fact these amazing, sensuous beings are watching you disgrace yourself.

“Yes, this is a much finer prize than another monster for the arena.” The deep elf woman’s fingers continue to move against the soft flesh of your rump, tickling your arsehole before going lower. As they slide into your cunt you climax, convulsing around them and screaming your lust into the chained girl’s cunt.

“Yes,” the deep elf says. “A very valuable prize. She’s still a virgin. She’ll make a fine ****. Bring the mounts.”

Your orgasm has begun to clear the haze of lust that the spores inflicted on you, and you look over your shoulder to see one of the males bringing up three huge black beetles, each with a throne-like saddle on its thorax. Your mind may be clearing, but you still lack the strength to resist as one of the elves hauls you to your feet and locks a golden collar around your neck. You feel a surge of humiliation that you, a Knight of the Burning Rose, should be so marked as a ****. You hope the arousal that comes with it is still the result of the aphrodisiac.

You and the other human – the other slavegirl – are chained by your collars to metal rings that have been driven into the beetle’s carapace. You see one of your captors pick up your abandoned holy sword and toss it into a saddlebag. Then the beetles start moving, their six legs giving them a disturbingly smooth gait. All you can do is wonder where you are going… and if you can escape.