Successful Conversion

As best she could, Liriel had removed the oil from her body, and from the dress. There were limits to what cold water and a washcloth could do without soap, but she was, at least, relatively presentable. Had put on underwear and sandals again, and smoothed the dress back into place. Despite herself, she had even kept the crescent moon pendant, and, sitting on the edge of the bed, unable to make herself go, she fidgeted with it.

If one were to act as someone of the faith of Elune might, in her situation, what should she do? It seemed as if the only choice, if she wanted to try to be a believer, to be a part of kaldorei societal structure, was to seek out its finest representative in the embassy: The priestess. Iralis. Rather than make her way out of the winding labyrinth and into the arms of the no doubt still waiting forsaken thugs, she could at least try to consult the woman who would have been her spiritual leader. The Light had never spoken to her, anyway, why not try one of the night elves?

So, she left the room. Not to abandon the interview process, as sordid and stupid and terribly attractive as it had been, but to find the priestess. In the hallways, Liriel passed several kaldorei, none of them Tessa. None of them overly interested in her, though a few did send looks that told her that, even if not as seneschal, she might still have some luck staying for a little longer, should she choose to engage in something with one of them. Shaking her head, she refocused.

Liriel made it out to what seemed to be the main hall, where a grand staircase lead up to the first floor. Twin, silvered basins, both illuminated by crystals shedding blue light, flanked a doorway that seemed to have been remade, almost as if organically regrown and reshaped, into something more reminiscent of the rounded designs of the night elves. It was as good a guess as any that the priestess’ quarters laid behind that door, and though she was ostensibly ambassador, and rather important, the embassy seemed still dormant.

Quietly, Liriel made her way up the stairs, and made to knock on the double doors, taken aback momentarily when she noticed a thick covering of leaves clinging to it. The kaldorei were renowned for their unity with and mastery over nature, but a living plant growing up a door in the depths of a dusky mansion seemed almost cruel, rather than unified. The ivy, or whatever it was, would surely wither and die in short order.

She felt along the rustling surface leaves, the slight, golden illumination from her eyes providing just enough light to see by, the ivy blocking out much of what came from the crystals either side of the door. But, of course, anyone looking in her direction might notice the additional, differently colored light, and apprehend her. Not that any of the sentinels had seemed interested in apprehending her, in a hostile way, so far. Odd, really. It would be more usual that they take possession of any unescorted stranger-- ah, there. A circular area of the door, where a handle sat, too, free of the leaves. Liriel knocked. Waited two seconds. And then turned the handle. Too much chance of someone seeing her and stopping her, while she remained atop the staircase, in the light.

The room she stumbled into was darker still than the outside. Black outlines of furniture placed as one might expect it to be, a few chairs around a table here, a desk with a grander chair near the far wall. Illuminated by what she deemed to be a smaller version of the blue-white crystals from outside, lying at the bottom of an ornamental, coppery-colored container filled with glass beads. It painted something like a distorted starry sky on the ceiling, which Liriel spent a moment admiring.

From a corner, where she had largely ignored a comfortable but dark chair, a set of luminous eyes appeared, opened, dispelling the darkness some. Blazing, in the low light, Liriel nevertheless saw them as curious, rather than aggressive. She breathed in and, as she had observed the sentinels to, made herself bow from the waist.

“Priestess,” Liriel said. She dared advance a step.

“Liriel. What brings you to my chambers?”

“I have been found… inadequate. Incompatible? With your seneschal.”

“All the more surprising to find you here,” Iralis said.

The priestess raised her right hand from the armrest, turning it as if to examine her own palm, though her attention remained on the sin’dorei. Slightly bent fingers seemed to flicker, drawing Liriel’s eyes to them just as odd, cool, silver light bloomed, what seemed like flames, except in greyscale, crawling along the woman’s hand to find a home atop the index finger which she left extended, the others curled back up. After looking at Liriel for a long moment, the priestess’ expression inscrutable, neutral, she lowered her hand to the small, circular table next to her, where the strange, white and black and gray flames set alight the wick of a real, physical candle. Iralis curled that last finger, the flame on it dying out in her palm, the candle spreading much more comfortable orange light.

By this light, Liriel could see far more of the room, identifying it as what she had come to consider typically kaldorei. Purples, greens, browns, blues, whites. A preponderance of near-natural decorations, certainly far less thoroughly worked and shaped than the decor of the average blood elven noble. Her attention returned to the priestess, however. She had come not to examine the interior of the ambassador’s quarters, but to speak to the person who administered the faith to the kaldorei who made the embassy their home.

“Are you going to explain yourself, Liriel? Or shall I call Tessalinndr to relate to me why you are here?”

“Yes,” Liriel blurted out. She lowered her eyes to the floor out of reflex, and then made herself raise them again. “I’m sorry. Priestess. I’m here, because… I’m not sure how to say this. I don’t know if I can set aside my own reasoning, my morals, and everything, to instead serve Elune.”

“Indeed?”

“And, I… I want to serve. I would like to be seneschal, Tessa’s second. I would like to serve her.”

“She is impressive, is she not?”

Liriel swallowed, finding her eyes drifting to the floor once more. Unbidden. “Yes. Priestess,” she said, adding the title a moment too late for it to seem natural. “We tried to-- We, well, she’s too big. Or I’m too small. I tried, but it’s just…”

“And yet, you lead with the issue of faith, when you seem not to possess what my seneschal requires to take you on as second.”

“I want to understand. I want to,” Liriel said.

“First, Liriel, let me clarify something. We do not follow the decrees of our Goddess in the way you seem to think. We are her chosen, and she has domains she cares for more than others, but how we do so is up to us. Among our kind, those with ability rise, not those born to old blood. We reason, we build our moral frameworks, ourselves. Our foundation may be Elune, but we are not automatons who set our selves aside to follow her every whim. And you would not be expected to do so, either, were you to become Tessalinndr’s second.”

“That is a… relief, priestess,” Liriel said. “I think.” She breathed in, feeling, for a moment, lighter. And sillier, having thought so low of the kaldorei, though she was not entirely certain she understood what she had been told, just yet.

What appeared to be a playful smile graced Iralis’ lips. “She must be rather disappointed, Liriel. She seemed pleased that you turned up, interested in the position. Capable, and, she said, precisely the stature and shape she most desires. To her own detriment, if you could not find a way to work together. I wondered how the two of you would, to tell you the truth.”

“We tried, priestess. I was-- I remain, rather… eager,” Liriel said. She felt warmth sneak into her cheeks, stubbornly continuing to raise her eyes to look at the priestess when they inevitably drifted down. “I haven’t had much chance to meet your kind, living here. But she is… quite…”

“You wish things turned out differently?”

“I don’t know if I can make myself believe in your Goddess, priestess. But I would certainly try, for her.”

“We may be able to solve both of your problems, Liriel. If you will accept a blessing from Elune.”

“I don’t want to be impolite, priestess, but would it not be a waste, given my wavering belief? Would your Goddess bless me?”

“I will grant you Her blessing, Liriel. At precisely the moment you need it most. Will you accept what is offered?”

“Yes, priestess. If you insist.”

“I wish to enable my sentinel Captain to find the comfort and pleasure she deserves, and, in so doing, you to find the satisfaction you crave,” Iralis said. She stood, then indicated a chaise longue of distinctly sin’dorei-looking design and colors. “Sit. I will call Tessalinndr to us.”

Liriel’s eyes once more darted upwards to meet those of the priestess at that, a nervous, ever-twitching core settling in her stomach as she moved over to and sat on the chaise. Smoothed down her front, though her stomach was, by now, long back to its usual shape. Still, in the back of her mind, she marveled at what had happened. Was there some supernatural quality to kaldorei seed that enabled her to consume it so quickly – perhaps their shared ancestry granted her some compatibility? Perhaps the magic of the Well of Eternity, the shores of which their common ancestors had grown up on, had also blessed something so lurid as a sentinel officer’s cum?

She sat with her hands in her lap, folded up and slowly twisting, turning, fidgeting. Preemptively trying to relax herself. Tensing, then releasing the tension, such that she might better be able to handle the sentinel’s monster of a cock, though there seemed no reason as to why she should be capable of taking in more of it now than half an hour ago.

Iralis returned from the door, where a quiet conversation in Darnassian too thickly-accented and quick for Liriel to follow had taken place.

“She has been called. You should get yourself ready,” Iralis said. She moved to Liriel’s side, urging her to rise, to move to the chaise’s raised end, turning about so that she faced it and its raised end. “Here,” Iralis said. She placed guiding hands upon the girl’s hips, shifting her just so. So that she stood centered. And then placed a gentle but insistent hand at the small of her back, pushing.

Liriel bent over at the waist. She was unused to being guided into position to be fucked by anyone, and so, hesitant. No less anxious because she now stood to disappoint two people thoroughly, rather than just one – both Iralis, and Tessa, the latter twice, and so more severely.

“Do not worry, Liriel. You trust Tessalinndr, and you will come to trust Elune, following this. She wishes you to succeed, as Her servant. She wishes your faith to blossom.”

Liriel nodded. Mute, for she could not think of something to say that would not be inappropriate, or disappointing, and, if she were entirely honest with herself, even if it were one final time, she wanted to feel Tessa’s hands upon her hips again. Holding her in place, safely, without recourse or ability to flee, not that she wanted to.

A knock at the door, which was then opened. Tessa stepped in, and bowed in Iralis’ direction, closing the door only afterwards.

“Priestess, how may I serve?”

“You may give this one another chance, my Captain. She so desires it. And so do you.”

“As… you wish, priestess,” Tessa said. Blazing, blue eyes roamed up Liriel’s body. Face down, ass up, draped over the end of the chaise. “But I don’t think we’re compatible.”

“I wish for you to try again,” Iralis said. She took a few steps away from Liriel.

“Yes, priestess. As you command.”

Tessa remained near the door, beginning to discard an outer layer which Liriel had not previously seen her in, perhaps something meant to camouflage her armaments when out and about in the city? Pieces of armor were shed after, and then her weapons. A look was exchanged between the two kaldorei, Liriel noticed, before the sentinel removed the last layer of clothes save her trousers, her chiseled, statuesque form made plain in the mixture of candlelight and blue, starry sky. Someone who could absolutely help Liriel live out her desire to be held down, pushed down, protected, and pounded into the bed. Chaise. Anything. She averted her eyes for a moment, trying to control her breathing. They both knew where it ended. Had learned it together, painfully, not terrible long ago.

After a moment, the warrior elf moved closer. Trailing fingers over the back of a chair, she approached Liriel, who remained covered by her dress. Covered, but bent over, her cushioned position rather exposed, otherwise. Never before had she been maneuvered into position by a religious figure – by any third party, in truth – who then immediately prompted one of her following to fuck her, but in both a physical and metaphorical sense, she belonged beneath the kaldorei. Words like majestic or refined could be applied to them, but then Liriel saw, thought of, the fangs she knew Tessa had. Hid, just beneath slightly chapped lips. Unused to the neverending sunlight of Quel’thalas, perhaps? It did not matter. She wanted strong arms around her. On her.

Liriel centered her eyes in front of her, on the red velvet covering the chaise, and shook her head. The towering sentinel was very close, now. Walking alongside her. Placing a large hand upon her still-clothed butt. The sin’dorei laid her cheek on the chaise and strained just a little to look back, and up, though she keenly felt all that was important. Tessa’s fingers curling, squeezing just a little, the sentinel shifting closer, so that the thick bulge in her trousers found a home against Liriel’s thighs, and rump. She sensed some sort of unspoken communication happening between priestess and sentinel, but could not clearly make out the face of either. Significant looks, and movements.

It was Tessa who began tugging at the blood elf’s dress to pull it up, but, soon enough, Liriel shifted to find purchase near her hips, wriggling from side to side to assist. And, soon enough, the garment found its new home around her waist, pooling there, a kind of crown for her modest, but firm and round, ass. The kaldorei’s fingers found and tugged down her underwear, letting it sit and only slowly sag midway down her thighs.

She should have been focused, just then, on Tessa undoing her belt, and popping buttons, and shifting to push her trousers down to reveal that mammoth cockshaft, but, instead, Liriel’s attention caught on the second, momentarily forgotten figure in the room. Iralis, the priestess, gracefully sidling down to sit herself before Liriel. Caught, then, between two night elves, one brawny, buff, the other rather more refined and smoothly toned, a kind of pleasant hitch worked its way into her breathing. The thought had not occurred to her before, Tessa being more than enough, but she was not the only one of her blessed kind in the embassy.

Iralis, however, merely caressed the back of one hand over Liriel’s cheek. Gentle, almost as if calming an upset animal, though the blood elf, as of yet, had nothing to be upset about. Somehow, though, being able to focus on that hand, being able to look up at the priestess’ kindly face, seeing there both compassion and expectation of success, gave her the strength to try again. Not to reach back and try to pull her cheeks apart, but to rest her hands, wrists crossed, at the small of her back. Trying to relax, feeling oil-slick fingers smooth over her tight ass, preparing the way. A long, shivering inhale, then, golden eyes fastened on the priestess, as Tessa pressed one finger, one knuckle, into Liriel. Slowly, the whole finger, to its base. Withdrawn, then, for a second to be added, and sunk in, the maneuver repeated with a third.

Liriel breathed audibly, at an elevated rate, struggling a little with her chest against the chaise. She could not help but let the air catch just slightly in her throat with each exhalation, making it plain that she was agitated. Anxious, perhaps, but certainly not unappreciative. Eyes widened just a little. Iralis’ fingers curled around, and under, her chin, urging her to lift her head just an inch, parting her lips. Was it out of reflex? The priestess did not press fingers into her mouth, or throat, as the sentinel had. Liriel swallowed, closed her eyes for a moment, feeling Tessa not begin to **** her way in, but merely resting the underside of that broad, weighty dick against her, pushing back and forth just so. Just enough to underline how massively thick that monster was, and how little chance there was of it fitting.

The digits beneath her chin shifted, and the priestess’ other hand, the back of her fingers tapping against the girl’s left cheek once, twice. Not a slap, not even close, but enough to bring attention to where it was desired. Liriel focused her attention up, again. Up at the priestess, who soon took to caressing one cheek from cheekbone to jawline. Slowly. Soothing. As if that would change anything.

Liriel tried to relax when she felt Tessa’s first probing attempt, the behemoth held in place with one hand, the sentinel’s other hand curled around Liriel’s hip. In her position, she could not accidentally slip away, or out of position, but it seemed the kaldorei appreciated having direct contact, a firm hold, of her partner. Slowly, almost cruelly, the girl’s ass began to cave in, forming a crater with cheeks molding around the enormous intruder, and she fought to keep her slipping attention on the priestess above her. Fought not to grit her teeth, feeling her ass spread, feeling as if she was in the initial stages of having her core drilled. Which, in truth, she was. Even so, fighting to keep her attention on the priestess somehow helped. She was allowed to squirm, to struggle, to let out straining breaths, but always her head was cradled, her cheek and forehead stroked.

Still, as uncountable moments, heartbeats, passed, Liriel’s breathing rose in pitch, and her hands, still gathered behind her back, seem to want to fidget and tug on her fingers of their own accord. She strained, arched her back, tried to shift her legs, to widen her position so as to better accommodate that behemoth cock, the head torturously slow slipping into her clenching, tight ass.

Her eyes now widened, chest heaving, mouth agape as she looked up, Liriel tensed and **** herself to relax in a slow rhythm which seemed to allow her sentinel, her towering protector, to jam just another half-inch, and then another, and another, into her. But there was a limit to what she could handle, even fighting, as she did, for Iralis. For herself. For Tessa. Her head sank, and she wanted to press her forehead against the surface of the chaise. To hide her shame at having reached her limit – why was it her shame, why was it her fault that the kaldorei was too fucking big?

“Too… ffffhhhhucking—”

Iralis moved a finger to Liriel’s lips, mouth, and suppressed the straining words. Clasped the struggling sin’dorei’s cheeks in her hands, raising her a few inches up. Tessa’s hands found Liriel’s wrists, capturing them, and then pulling on them to raise her from the bed she had made of the chaise even further. Held aloft by that straining grip, by the back of the chaise, and by the colossal inches already pressed into her, she gasped for breath. Tried again to focus on the priestess’ face, blinking, squirming. There was room for the beginning bulge on her stomach, at least, even if the slim dress strained around the building distension, but that was the only thing comfortable about the position.

A light tap, with both hands, on her cheeks. Her attention centered on Iralis.

“Stay with me, little one. The Goddess does not demand of her followers that they do the impossible, but allows them to do more than they thought possible,” Iralis said. The priestess moved one hand from Liriel’s cheek, to her forehead, using one finger to draw what felt like a circle, and then a crescent within it. “Bless your willing subject, Elune, so that she may serve you. That she may become your daughter. So that she may serve your faithful.”

Very little happened after that, Liriel thought. Iralis’ warm hands and fingers felt pleasant, comforting, against her skin, but neither they nor her words to the kaldorei goddess could change physical reality. That conviction settled in her mind, in the pit of her stomach, and then it seemed that same soothing warmth that the priestess’ touch conveyed into her face spread, slipped, slid, down her neck, into her shoulders. Chest. Arms. Into her core, into her thighs, into her abdomen. Made her, impossibly, relax, and made her body bend to serve the kaldorei seeking to conquer it. Tessa’s grinding, insistent forward pressure **** one of those titanic inches of cock in, and then another. A first thrust pushed another two in. The dress fought a losing battle, a single tear forming in it.

Liriel’s eyes widened further, and she let a surprised, delighted, still straining sound go, her cheeks crimson, the light in her eyes blazing as that fat bulge pushed up her front. Her head, still, in Iralis’ hands, tears wetting the priestess’ fingers – not tears of pain, but of surprise, and of joy.

“G-goddess,” Liriel whispered, the word coming to her without thinking, unprompted. Tessa settled into a slow, inexorable pace, that huge, thick dick ramming more and more inches into Liriel’s still clenching, tight ass. The bulge pounded up her front, and, inevitably, the dress gave way, ripped opened, to accommodate the monster’s progress. Difficult, slow, but somehow, possible.

“Goddess,” Liriel said, again, hanging on to the word even as it left her lips. The golden light of her eyes seemed mixed, and, she realized, the pattern drawn on her forehead was not mere touch, but had left behind a shimmering, silvery rune.

Unable to express what she felt in a single word, she looked to Iralis, still. Trying to thank the priestess with her eyes, even as Tessa’s steady, mechanical thrusts rammed that monstrous cock deeper, and deeper, and deeper. Liriel’s wrists and shoulders, still in the warrior’s grip ached, but, in truth, the only reason she wanted them free for just a moment was to caress that dick-shaped distension along her front, marking the sentinel’s progress.

Moment after moment, those girthy inches fed, pounded, into her depths. Into her much too small form. The **** that the sentinel slowly lent her thrusts supplanted into Liriel’s body, making her shake with each, collapsing her thoughts into an incoherent mess. The pressure, the overwhelming fullness, made her want to whine. Made her want to beg. For more. For the sentinel to go harder, and deeper. And slower. To savor it. To have it all, now. To empty those sloshing, heavy balls that hit her thighs. She shook with the **** of another brutal thrust, and knew that the kaldorei was close, now. That they had both been taken by surprise, that they would learn to savor it, in time. But also that now, their bodies would unite, would come crashing together. That Tessa needed this first, full claiming.

Those final, fat inches were first pushed, but then slowly worked into her, and rather than with a smack, it was almost with a caress that they came together. The sentinel’s hard, muscled form, with just a hint of sweat sheening it from the effort of fitting into Liriel’s clenching, tight ass, pushed against those cheeks, molded as they were around the enormous shaft. Pushed, and then ground in further, and further, until not a fraction of an inch was still left outside of the small, gasping sin’dorei.

Completely full – overfilled – to a point she had thought impossible, Liriel’s breathing came erratic, her head still cradled in the priestess’ hands. She dared to lower it just so, just to glance down, seeing the fat cockbulge up along her front, feeling the tingling, silvery warmth of the blessing she had been granted all throughout her form. Granting her that impossible fullness, that pleasant warmth that made her cease to think, just made her focus on the sentinel, and the priestess, and her blessed position between the two. How she could now serve her Captain.

“Elune,” Liriel breathed, eyes threatening to roll up. A light tap against her cheeks brought her back, and she once more gasped. “Elune. Elune…” Fingers caressed her cheeks, wiped away tears of pressure and indulgence in emotion. Not her fingers. Her eyes rolled upwards again as Tessa rolled, thrust against her, into her, though there was no more to hammer into her depths. She was conquered. Crushed between Tessa, and the chaise, a small creature held down by something much larger. “Elune…”

“Do you accept the Goddess, little one? Do you wish to serve Her, to serve us, Her devout? Do you have faith?”

Liriel trembled in Iralis’ hands, her tongue moving in faint spasms, rather than to form letters, or sounds that could be interpreted as anything other than straining, overstimulating pressure and pleasure. Despite another tap of digits against the sin’dorei’s cheeks, her attention could not be brought around. Her body tensing, clenching, the warmth that permeated every limb, every muscle, coalescing into bursts of tingling heat, gathering in her core and blossoming again, and again, and again. She gasped, clamping down around the very root of Tessa’s shaft, squirming in orgasm. Lips moving, letting out near-silent moans that grew more coherent only when she managed to stammer that same word, once again: “Elune.”

Rune blazing upon her forehead as she slowly came down from that peak, Liriel relaxed into the priestess’ hands, looking up at her. The girl’s expression one of resistance blissfully worn away, trusting in those that held her in their hands. Held her up. She swallowed, wet her lips, and spoke again, voice quaking just so, as Tessa slowly gyrated her hips, not so much thrusting as indicating that she soon would.

“I… I serve… Elune,” Liriel said. “I… please, I want… to…”

Iralis once more placed a finger over the girl’s lips, silencing her needy words. “You want Tessalinndr, little one. And you shall have her.”

For a moment, the priestess looked not down at the blood elf, but over her, to the sentinel. The slightest nod was all the signal needed, all that held back the warrior’s desire – something Liriel noted, and remembered, even into her lust-addled state. The priestess held the reins of everyone, even the Captain. Even the martial masterpieces brought along; the sentinels. It was a fleeting thought, though, for Tessa pulled inches out, and then rammed them back in, making Liriel’s body shake with the impact. Making her shoulders and wrists ache as the **** dissipated, and yet, she wanted never to be let go.

Building from nothing to a rapid, merciless pace, it became apparent to Liriel how much the sentinel had contained herself, had held back, when they had first seemed incompatible. Shifting back and forth as that hard, thick dick hammered into her depths, ever safe in the priestess’ hands, her head held in place, her body captured in Tessa’s grip of her wrists and in the space between the kaldorei’s powerfully muscled thighs and the back of the chaise, she could only accept the pistoning power with which inch after fat, weighty inch of dick pounded into her ass.

There was a lull, then, where the sentinel seemed, if not tender, then at least graceful enough to offer a few moments of solace to Liriel’s straining form, not so much slam-fucking as slowly, deliberately feeding fat inches in, until their bodies met and ground against one-another, pulling back until the girl’s chin near lifted from the hands cupping it by the pull on her wrists, and then repeating. Meticulous, deep conquest, rather than brutal. For a time.

It came to an end, though, with a first smack of hard muscle against Liriel’s asscheeks, molding around the behemoth, which grew into a second, and a third. An uncompromising rhythm built, and built, and from it grew an understanding of just how completely she would be the sentinel’s own over the coming days, weeks, months, in the blood elf’s mind. She saw herself conquered beneath a ruthless invader, and desired to quake beneath her superior, taken, filled, and wishing only for more. To shake with the pleasure of satisfying the sentinel. As she now did, breathing out with strained, desirous gasps of air **** from her by each hilting thrust.

The grip of her wrists grew harder, slowly, as more pistoning thrusts rammed into her, bottomed out in her depths, and she sensed the inevitable end coming. Felt it when, for an instant, Tessa held herself in, to the root, before the next thrust, and the next. Then again. Growing more erratic, the pace breaking down, the primal need overtaking it, the kaldorei pressing herself in as far as she could possibly go, and only then rocking back and forth. Allowing, in so doing, Tessa to feel the clamping tension in that towering body, quaking, churning balls rising to meet her thighs.

A first, incredible tensing of muscle. Tessa crammed herself in, bottomed out in Liriel’s ass, that first molten, thick rope of seed pumping in, that cumvein rising to let the first hefty, potent load pound into the girl’s depths.

Liriel continued to squirm, to struggle in the priestess’ hands, eyes rolling upward once more. Already full, the vague awareness of just how much cum Tessa produced the first time made her move in place, shiting left, right, even as that first load found its home, swiftly followed by a second. With near bruising strength, the sentinel came, and soon enough, the girl’s belly rose from the bulge around that fat cockshaft, that beast beginning to blend in as more, and more, and more thick cables of seed piston-pumped in and joined those already sloshing languidly around inside of her. Had Liriel not been held above the surface of the chaise by her wrists, by Iralis’ hold of her face, she could not have contained the mind-numbing, seemingly endless loads, the idea of a flat stomach a distant memory as she distended with the ever-increasing weight, and volume.

Tessa, at least, still held herself close, even as the blood elf’s fullness began to **** a few splurts and jets of pearly-white cum from her, so that the two were near glued together with the sticky liquid. The vast majority of it, however, continued to flood, heated and pulsing at the sentinel’s heartbeat, into Liriel’s ass. Flooding to the slowly wobbling, hefty dome that was her stomach, yet seeming, for each emptying throb flowing from Tessa, to cause an inexplicable spiraling, tingling burst of warmth, of pleasure, throughout her body.

“Elune,” Liriel whispered, almost begged, and once again, a finger was held to her lips to silence her. She could only focus on the dying quakes of Tessa’s orgasm, on those final, fat cables of cum loosed even as the sentinel began to pull back. Withdrawing those monstrous inches only slowly, covered in a fine, white, web-like mess of seed, the kaldorei nevertheless continued to hold up her partner, until that entire, massive cockshaft was free. Only then, and with care that would have surprised Liriel more thoroughly if she was capable of much coherent thought, was she carefully let go, lowered to the chaise, on her side, so that she could wrap aching hands around the obscene, sloshing bulge of her belly.

Her ass gaped, but twitched and worked and tightened even then, the same miracle that had allowed her to take her sentinel to the hilt seemingly letting her clench back up with unusual speed. Even so, perhaps having gotten used to the presence of the colossal shaft between them, her cheeks seemed to linger a little with the circular emptiness between them.

“Elune, thank you,” Liriel whispered. “Goddess…”

Iralis had let her cheeks go, and allowed her to lie on the chaise, for a long moment. There were voices, words spoken in Darnassian. Things said not to her, Liriel, but in her presence, which she ought to have understood. Would have understood, had her mind not temporarily been slam-fucked into a blissful fog from which she could not, did not want to, rise. Not yet, at least. Vaguely, though, she became aware of the sentinel standing before her, and, if she were to prove her use not just as a seneschal, but as a servant, it seemed only right that she help clean and bathe the mess left behind.

Too heavy. Her arms, her hands, were too heavy to meaningfully obey her. Moving in the general direction she wanted, she found Tessa’s fingers carefully, but insistently, pushing her back down. The back of a hand against her cheek. Over her forehead, where the rune still glowed, matching the intensity of the sentinel’s eyes with its light. Tessa said something, and Liriel narrowed her eyes, trying to hear. Trying to make sense of it. She wanted not to disappoint the statuesque elf, wanted her not to have to repeat herself, but the lack of understanding shone in her eyes.

“Rest, Liriel,” Tessa said. A hand cupping the girl’s cheek, again.

“I-- I want to—”

“Soon enough. You have passed. You are the new seneschal, and my second. The interview is over, though your trials have just begun,” Tessa said. With a finger, she moved one lock of golden-blonde hair out of Liriel’s face. “We still have much to discuss, and we will begin when you bring me food and drink, and water to wash with, tomorrow. Now, I will carry you to your new quarters, and you will rest. And recover.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Liriel said. Quietly. There remained a fragment of anxiety in her heart, a desire ever and always to please the saber-like, large elf. The priestess, too. But Tessa, most of all. To be taken care of, protected, but to serve the worthy.

Never had she thought such thoughts would form in her mind, but as she rested her head against the sentinel’s chest, carried towards a much grander room than where she had been interviewed, Liriel felt no objection form. She wanted, deeply, to serve, to please, the sentinel.

Her sentinel.