Raising the undead

The magic overflowing from her was sipping down, towards her corpse stiff lover. It was wild, uncontroled, and likely to simply create a revenant that would devour the two breathing beings. But Sir Farthof had been trained a necromancer, often limited by his sterile enviroment.

What before was a lenghty, painful process was now completed in just a few profane words.The creature beneath her did stir, and the elven maiden dared to hope it was a miracle. The undead thing moaned a name, her name, and joined the necromancer in his sexual **** on the beauty. His erection had little trobled battering the elven maiden´s backward entrance, and her wails of pain were the sweetest elixir Farthof had ever experienced.

With each thrust his undead army grew. The magic that took to animate the elven warrior far exceeded the requirement to animate six humans, and Farthof had no intention to stop short of a full army. He had perhaps ten scores of warriors when it happened.

The elven maiden´s body suddenly rocked violently, as if possessed by a spirit. "Fwanor!" she screamed as she orgasmed violently, bathing the necromancer´s cock with her sweet nectar, and draining him of his cum in turn, so sealing the heresy comitted that night.

The girl was out, and her body had gone limp. With pride he watched his work, both on the ravaged beauty and the army he now commanded. No mere zombies, the hallow soldiers were battle ready and thirsty.

"We march" Farthof ordered. THe nearby pegasus didnt stir when his soldiers began to walk by him, nor from farthof when the necromancer touched him. It seemed, actually, that the mare was sniffing his cock. Perhaps recognizing his mistress. Either way, he didnt oppose when Farthof mounted him, carrying the limp maiden with him. A general should have a mount worth his name!