Breeding the first generation of Monsters

Despite Prosperio and the other Elven City-States engaging in rich trade and rigorous diplomatic communication with the other Human Kingdoms of Aclia, it is a fact that no one truly pays heed to the happenings within Elven lands, owing to a general fear of Elves and their magical might and their concealment of their lands from outsiders. It is both rumour and fact that everyone who tried to scout for their cities ended up mysteriously dead.

Through a complex system of concealment glyphs and powerful magics, the Elven City-States have never truly been invaded in **** for millennia since their creation, until Prosperio was the first to fall.

And all it took was a single traitor from within.

Faeranduil Inalee, one of the High-ranking Archmages of the City-State of Prosperio, long desired the crown for himself and Kingship of Prosperio, and he was all too willing to betray his countrymen when offered a fat purse of coins for his trouble.

And when the city fell, he was instantly rewarded with a poisoned dagger to his throat.

Pah, imbeciles die like imbeciles, Thought Iozunk, Maybe it's the only thing the Elves here would thank us for.

Arthion was busy sucking on Iozunk's cock, cringing at the taste of his semen mixed with her juices on her tongue.

"Come on, ****, I'm waiting for you to clean it up," Said Iozunk.

"Y-Yes, Master," Said Arthion.

The poor Mother Elf was **** to watch her daughters be bred by Iozunk's fat cock, his slimy green sperm inseminating their wombs day in, day out, and now like her, they both sported huge bellies filled with child, ready to give birth at any time. Try as she might to be strong, she could not hold back her tears each time she watched them be defiled.

Her tears may have stopped flowing, but her heart could not accept the situation.

Removing a spotless cock from her mouth, Arthion said, "It's clean, Master."

"Very good," Said Iozunk, "Time to feed me."

Arthion bared her lactating breasts and held them close towards her master's mouth, who quickly began sucking on them hard.

She moaned as she felt her nipples squirt their milk - deliciously sweet and fragrant - like a breeding sow eager to feed her children.

"Mmm, good, tasty milk," Said Iozunk, "Make sure you feed our children well."

Arthion merely nodded.

"Yes, Master."

The time had come.

Arthion lay writhing on her bed, clutching the pillows tightly in pain as the latest wave of contractions hit her.

Her legs, spread wide open, revealed a tuft of golden hair emerging from her vagina.

"You're doing good, push!"

The Elven midwife - equally pregnant as the other Elves of Prosperia - was busy directing the Goblins to preparing a tub of hot water and wet towels, closely monitoring the progress of Arthion's labour.

"As'sheda's tears, make it stop!" Arthion cried.

Arthion pushed again, harder than before.

"One more push, My Lady!" Said the midwife.

And with one final heave, Arthion's labour had ceased.

She had given birth to a litter of five children - all Elven-looking with Goblin amber eyes and sharp teeth and bearing their Mother's gold hair. Even now, the five babes she bore were greedily sucking on her breasts, and she panted tiredly from her earlier ordeal.

"You did good, Arthion," Said Iozunk, "You'll make a fine broodmare, as will your children."

Having lived for months as a sex **** to Iozunk, Arthion had long since deadened her heart to such a thought, and she almost drifted to sleep there and then.

Issarel and Ilyrana were in the throes of labour as well, about to join their mother and thousands of other Elves in birthing the new generation of Elven half-breeds.

Every generation of goblins sired involved a litter of five to six children per mother on average, one reason why any goblin tribe that suffered heavy casualties was always able to repopulate so quickly, and why Goblins in general were regarded as a menace to not be trifled with by the other 'civilised' nations. The same applied to the Orcs, Kobolds and Gnolls.

And now, with an entire city of Elves under their control, there was no telling how powerful the Monster horde under Ferdinand could become if they ever evolved to the same standard as other civilised nations.

"Aagh!"

"Make it stop!"

Soon enough, their labour had ceased and they welcomed ten children into the world.

"Goddess As'sheda... preserve us all..."

Ilyrana had long since been broken by her ordeal as a sex ****, and her eyes lay empty and devoid of hope.

Issarel merely averted her eyes, crying silently to herself.