Elf Princess
Elf Princess
By
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A. G. Thomas
With jowls slobbering even more then usual Umag stared from his hiding place at the tall willowy elf maiden. As his brain registered and stored what his yellow orbed eyes saw a burning itch grew between his short but powerfully built legs. In the past he had pleasured himself upon many a female of the puny humans that he and his kind were in a constant state of war with. None of them though had compared to the creature before him.
Not even the raven haired daughter of the chieftain that he had personally taken in the raid three suns ago. A shapely soft thing that he had pleasured himself with the first night and who was even now once more being enjoyed by the forty five remaining members of his bodyguard.
Pulling his mind back to the present his eyes flitted over the far shore searching for the other elves that he knew where present. Try as he might though he could see no evidence that any others were present. Not in the shore reeds nor in the high branches of the trees of the forest that came almost down to the rivers edge.
How was it he wondered that except for her huge white horse she was alone. Surely such a shapely thing wasn't an outcast. Again his bloodshot yellow eyes studied her looking for some deformity, some abnormality. There was none. None that is except for her strange manner of dress.
Usually her kind were draped with long flowing layers of the smoothest, shiniest of cloth. The willowy shapely thing before him though was wearing nothing like that. In fact she was nearly naked. Her arms and legs were encased in a pale red material that in each case covered nearly the whole limb.
Each small breast was covered by a dull black swath of cloth and about her hips, dropping to just past the top of her stockings, hang a loin cloth of the same black material. Neither the red or black cloth that did little to hide her willowy shape was of the shiny material that her kind usually wore. Still though he suspected it was one and the same.
If it were of the same material that her kind, especially the males, wore in battle it was remarkably strong. So strong that quite often arrows failed to penetrate the sheer material. He had seen as much with his own eyes. True, the arrows had been shot at extreme range.
But still, most of those that had fallen in the initial fusillade had been the humans within the elf ranks. Laughter welled in his brain. If he had of been in charge of the elf army that day he would have put the puny humans in the front ranks. He would have used the armor draped weaklings as fodder to dull the org attack.
The elves though spread them through their ranks in an effort to protect them as one would their young. Often such tactics went array as in the midst of battle the humans had a tendency to gravitate together thus becoming a chink in an otherwise strong army. Such had been the case months earlier when the elves and humans had marched out to stop the orc advance.
Neither army was able to claim victory that day Still though that had been a tough battle and he had not been the only division commander who had lost the better part of his command that day.
Though the soldiers hatred toward elves had been strong before it was almost rabid now. Being the most battle hardened and senior captain he had been lucky as far as replacements. Other division had been disbanded and the men reassigned. He'd literally had his pick of battle hardened veterans. More satisfying then that though had been his promotion to Brigade Commander.
Maybe the wench before him was the Gods way of paying him back for the lose of battle hardened troops that day. For a second a strange feeling wormed through his brain, and though sympathy was foreign to him that was what he felt for the elf maiden.
Unlike the human female who even now was pleasuring his men, and who would continue to do so until she was dead the elf would not be so fortunate. First as was his right and privilege as a brigade commander he would be the first to enjoy her. And when he eventually tired of her, she would be passed amongst his personal bodyguard and their pets. After that and with his men looking on and chanting encouragement she would be passed to the most deserving platoon and then on down the line until she was either a mindless blubbering husk or dead.
A soft moan welled from his broad yellowish green scaled chest and his cock swelled to the point of aching. Pungent pus colored fluid began leaking from his nearly fist thick cock at the thought of the shapely elf maiden being passed from soldier to soldier in the org army.
Her kind was so rarely seen alone outside the company of elf warriors and yet here this one was. It was as if she were being offered up to him. As he studied her bearing thoughts that such treatment as he had first imagined her fate became reprehensible.
A hiss almost of anger bubbled from his throat. No! If he were fortunate enough to capture her he would keep her for himself. Hers would not be the fate of the three elf maidens captured during the org army's initial thrust last year.
The splashing of water, the horses terrified neigh, its stomping and moving about stopped his breathing. Like a rodent burrowing into the ground he pressed himself flatter to the earth. Had the large beast heard him? Maybe sensed him? Finally after what seemed like a life time he lifted his ugly face from the muddy ground to stare where he had last seen the elf maiden and her horse.
Unbelievably they were still there and just as unbelievable they were staring right at him but neither was making a move to run away. It was as if they couldn't believe what they were seeing and if they could were frozen in fear. A soft malicious chuckle rumbled in his throat.
He could tell the horse was nervous. He had seen such behavior before from the humans horses as the orc army, with a blood curdling battle cry and a ferocity that the humans hadn't expected, had met and turned aside their charge.
For a moment as he watched the elf maiden try to calm the huge beast he relived the glory of that battle. The ground shaking beneath his feet from the pounding of a thousand horses. The army, his army standing silent waiting, waiting, and then moments before the horses were upon them together with sword beating against shield a great shout welling up from the whole of the orc army.
The army, his army surging forward like a huge wave. The rending of armor, the screams of anguish and despair from both animal and human as the orc army had blunted then decimated the better part of them. Unlike as so often as before the humans had fought bravely both horse and foot. They had died by the hundreds, by the thousands, but before they had fled the field they had made the orc army pay dearly. Almost as dearly as they had.
Though even now, as he lay staring into the horses and the elf maidens eyes he hated to admit what he had felt that day. Shaking his head to clear it of such thoughts he slowly rose from the ground to stand silent before the pair. A broad grin twisted his fang filled mouth as instead of horse and elf fleeing the two stood trembling like leaves in a strong wind.
With sword in hand he shuffled forward on banta bowed legs ready to strike a killing blow if the horse charged. Without taking his eyes from either of them he stepped into the knee deep water and waded cautiously toward them. With each forward step of his the horse took a half step backward toward the far shore pulling the wide eyed elf maiden with him.
Another grin twisted his fang filled mouth. The pair were so frightened it was as if they didn't even have enough sense to make an attempt to flee. Just as the horse and a heartbeat later the elf maiden gained solid ground and while he was still nearly ten paces from them Umag gathered his strong legs beneath him and leaped.
As true as an arrow he came down almost dead center between the pair. The horse, panic stricken reared and Umag raised his sword to strike a killing blow but instead of the huge beast charging it whirled and fled into the dark forest. For a second as he looked into the large soft blue eyes of the elf maiden uncertainty as to his next move wormed into his brain, and his battle hardened reflexes and instinct failed him.
His sword hand dropped leaving him open to her attack, but she made no move toward the ornate silver handled knife strapped to her right thigh. Instead her long thin fingers reached out lightly caressing his scared wart covered yellowish green cheek. Her touch was as intimate as his woman's had been before she had died in battle beside him. She had been given to him by the master, not just because of his rank but because of his bravery in battle as well.
Love was foreign to his kind, but the master had said he should cherish and protect her and he had done his best. But as was her want, and though her kind was exceedingly rare, she had insisted in fighting beside him. When the elf arrow had pierced her throat and as she lay dying in his arms the battle had been forgotten. Her last jester before her life's blood had bubbled from her mouth had been a soft touch to his cheek much as the elf maiden was doing now.
Moisture filled his eyes as the memory of the loss of her filled his brain. Never had he felt such a rending and in his anguish he had been as terrible as a balrog. Human and elf alike had quaked and fled before him that terrible day but he had shown no mercy, no pity. How many he had killed in avenging the death of his mate he didn't know.
Even when he was surrounded by elves and his sword had broken his rampage had not lessened. With claws and teeth he had ripped the life from his hated enemies and not once through it all had he taken a step back from his mate. Shaking his head to clear it of that terrible day he stood numbly as whisper soft words he couldn't begin to understand touched his ears.
He watched her lips moving, heard soft cooing sounds purring from her throat. To his astonishment and disbelief together with continuing cooing sounds she stepped to him and began running her long fingered hands lightly over his tree limb thick forearms and over his massively muscled chest. Her touch, the closeness of her shapely body, like a blanket on a cold night, sent a warmth through him that he was at a lose to explain.
Tighter she pressed to him and as she did her hands rose to cradle his broad ugly face and her small lips came down covering the wide slash of his tusk filled mouth. His brain screamed at him that what was happening wasn't right, that he was in danger but he couldn't move.
Dumbstruck he watched her take a step back. Watched as she untied then dropped the almost nonexistent small patches of cloth covering her small yet firm breast. For several heartbeats she stood looking at him before again reaching out. But this time her long fingered hands took his and brought them to her breast. Instinctively his stubby fingers squeezed and a quivering sigh spilled from her soft lips.
With her hands still coving his and while pressing his tighter to her small but firm breast her eyes slowly closed. A soft stuttering whimper issued from her and her head fell back as his fingers, at first lightly then harder, pinched and rolled nipples that were almost as big as the tip of his smallest finger.
For a life time they stood thus, he, pinching, squeezing, rolling breast and nipple and her sighing contentedly. Then opening her eyes, and while looking into his mystified yellowish orbs her hands dropped from his to her hip. A moment later the whisper thin dark cloth that had been doing little to hid her lower body fluttered to the waters edge and floated away.
With but her pale red arm and leg coverlets remaining she stood unashamedly before him for several in drawn breaths. Slowly, as if not to startle or alarm him, her long fingered hands rose to again cover his. The pressure of her fingers, her soft pleasurable moan were as indications that she welcomed perhaps even treasured his touch.
As he looked at her confusedly she smiled warmly. Slowly, though he was reluctant to release her small firm breast, he let her pull his hands from her. When he did so she pulled his arms about her placing his broad stubby fingered hands on her tight firm buttocks. Without further invitation he squeezed each tight cheek and she, without the slightest of hesitation, once more willingly pressed her willowy body to his.
Again her long cloth covered fingers lightly glided up and down his tree limp thick arms and across his broad muscular chest. Again her lips lightly touched his before moving downward over his chin, his thick neck, his broad scaly chest. As her lips moved ever lower she fell to her knees before him. Whimpers that he knew to be that of arousal such as human females sometimes made issued from the elf maidens throat as her long slim fingers worked to loosen his coverings.
His mind coming awake he brushed her hands away taking charge of removing his girdle and leggings. His struggles were made all the more difficult with her squeezing and stroking his long fist thick organ through his corse coverings. Finally though he stood before her naked, his massive tool swaying less then a fingers width from her lips.
With her hot breath washing over the head of his secreting blood engorged organ, her long thin fingers stroking, squeezing him to even greater rigidity she looked up into his eyes. His hands reaching out, his fingers pushing into her sunset red hair; her heart shaped face moving unresistingly to him; her small perfect lips parting.
Pain! White hot searing pain exploding in his chest. His back arching, his hands wanting to reach up but unable to. Yellowish pus colored blood spraying from his lips together with his scream. Dumbly he looked down at the still kneeling elf maiden as if seeking an explanation.
Something protruding from his chest shimmering like the new born sun. His eyes clouding making it difficult for him to see the elf maidens beautiful face. He can admit that now, now that he knows that he is dying. Her and her kind are the very soul of the earth beautiful in every way, while he and his kind are but a mockery to their perfection.
Somehow one of his hands finds her face, caresses it brushes a tear from her cheek. He would have loved her, treasured her, protected her even more then he had the mate that the master had given him. He would have killed anyone, even the master if he thought they meant her harm.
Another white hot rending pain explodes in his chest as the shimmering blade is twisted then pulled out. Unable to stand he drops to his knees. With extreme effort of will he raises his head from his chest focusing his rapidly glazing yellow orbs on the soft sky blue eyes filled with tears. Her arms reaching up cradling his head bringing it to her heaving naked breast. Soft pleasurable sounds interrupted by an occasional catch in her throat touch his ears as she slowly rocks back and forth.
His eyes close. A feeling of contentment, of peace, of tranquility that he has never known washes through him. His last thought as his final breath leaves him is that she an elf shed a tear for him. He is not aware of the soft Kingly elf voice telling his daughter and two dozen personal bodyguard that he would rather lose his kingdom then to ever again so deceitfully and without honor kill such a valiant and worthy foe.
Neither is he aware that before they depart that his body, instead of being left to carrion, is washed and clothed in the finest of elfin robes. That he is placed on a bed of pine boughs and that with the elfin princess that he so loved with his dying breath crying over him his funeral pyre is lit.
With jowls slobbering even more then usual Umag stared from his hiding place at the tall willowy elf maiden. As his brain registered and stored what his yellow orbed eyes saw a burning itch grew between his short but powerfully built legs. In the past he had pleasured himself upon many a female of the puny humans that he and his kind were in a constant state of war with. None of them though had compared to the creature before him.
Not even the raven haired daughter of the chieftain that he had personally taken in the raid three suns ago. A shapely soft thing that he had pleasured himself with the first night and who was even now once more being enjoyed by the forty five remaining members of his bodyguard.
Pulling his mind back to the present his eyes flitted over the far shore searching for the other elves that he knew where present. Try as he might though he could see no evidence that any others were present. Not in the shore reeds nor in the high branches of the trees of the forest that came almost down to the rivers edge.
How was it he wondered that except for her huge white horse she was alone. Surely such a shapely thing wasn't an outcast. Again his bloodshot yellow eyes studied her looking for some deformity, some abnormality. There was none. None that is except for her strange manner of dress.
Usually her kind were draped with long flowing layers of the smoothest, shiniest of cloth. The willowy shapely thing before him though was wearing nothing like that. In fact she was nearly naked. Her arms and legs were encased in a pale red material that in each case covered nearly the whole limb.
Each small breast was covered by a dull black swath of cloth and about her hips, dropping to just past the top of her stockings, hang a loin cloth of the same black material. Neither the red or black cloth that did little to hide her willowy shape was of the shiny material that her kind usually wore. Still though he suspected it was one and the same.
If it were of the same material that her kind, especially the males, wore in battle it was remarkably strong. So strong that quite often arrows failed to penetrate the sheer material. He had seen as much with his own eyes. True, the arrows had been shot at extreme range.
But still, most of those that had fallen in the initial fusillade had been the humans within the elf ranks. Laughter welled in his brain. If he had of been in charge of the elf army that day he would have put the puny humans in the front ranks. He would have used the armor draped weaklings as fodder to dull the org attack.
The elves though spread them through their ranks in an effort to protect them as one would their young. Often such tactics went array as in the midst of battle the humans had a tendency to gravitate together thus becoming a chink in an otherwise strong army. Such had been the case months earlier when the elves and humans had marched out to stop the orc advance.
Neither army was able to claim victory that day Still though that had been a tough battle and he had not been the only division commander who had lost the better part of his command that day.
Though the soldiers hatred toward elves had been strong before it was almost rabid now. Being the most battle hardened and senior captain he had been lucky as far as replacements. Other division had been disbanded and the men reassigned. He'd literally had his pick of battle hardened veterans. More satisfying then that though had been his promotion to Brigade Commander.
Maybe the wench before him was the Gods way of paying him back for the lose of battle hardened troops that day. For a second a strange feeling wormed through his brain, and though sympathy was foreign to him that was what he felt for the elf maiden.
Unlike the human female who even now was pleasuring his men, and who would continue to do so until she was dead the elf would not be so fortunate. First as was his right and privilege as a brigade commander he would be the first to enjoy her. And when he eventually tired of her, she would be passed amongst his personal bodyguard and their pets. After that and with his men looking on and chanting encouragement she would be passed to the most deserving platoon and then on down the line until she was either a mindless blubbering husk or dead.
A soft moan welled from his broad yellowish green scaled chest and his cock swelled to the point of aching. Pungent pus colored fluid began leaking from his nearly fist thick cock at the thought of the shapely elf maiden being passed from soldier to soldier in the org army.
Her kind was so rarely seen alone outside the company of elf warriors and yet here this one was. It was as if she were being offered up to him. As he studied her bearing thoughts that such treatment as he had first imagined her fate became reprehensible.
A hiss almost of anger bubbled from his throat. No! If he were fortunate enough to capture her he would keep her for himself. Hers would not be the fate of the three elf maidens captured during the org army's initial thrust last year.
The splashing of water, the horses terrified neigh, its stomping and moving about stopped his breathing. Like a rodent burrowing into the ground he pressed himself flatter to the earth. Had the large beast heard him? Maybe sensed him? Finally after what seemed like a life time he lifted his ugly face from the muddy ground to stare where he had last seen the elf maiden and her horse.
Unbelievably they were still there and just as unbelievable they were staring right at him but neither was making a move to run away. It was as if they couldn't believe what they were seeing and if they could were frozen in fear. A soft malicious chuckle rumbled in his throat.
He could tell the horse was nervous. He had seen such behavior before from the humans horses as the orc army, with a blood curdling battle cry and a ferocity that the humans hadn't expected, had met and turned aside their charge.
For a moment as he watched the elf maiden try to calm the huge beast he relived the glory of that battle. The ground shaking beneath his feet from the pounding of a thousand horses. The army, his army standing silent waiting, waiting, and then moments before the horses were upon them together with sword beating against shield a great shout welling up from the whole of the orc army.
The army, his army surging forward like a huge wave. The rending of armor, the screams of anguish and despair from both animal and human as the orc army had blunted then decimated the better part of them. Unlike as so often as before the humans had fought bravely both horse and foot. They had died by the hundreds, by the thousands, but before they had fled the field they had made the orc army pay dearly. Almost as dearly as they had.
Though even now, as he lay staring into the horses and the elf maidens eyes he hated to admit what he had felt that day. Shaking his head to clear it of such thoughts he slowly rose from the ground to stand silent before the pair. A broad grin twisted his fang filled mouth as instead of horse and elf fleeing the two stood trembling like leaves in a strong wind.
With sword in hand he shuffled forward on banta bowed legs ready to strike a killing blow if the horse charged. Without taking his eyes from either of them he stepped into the knee deep water and waded cautiously toward them. With each forward step of his the horse took a half step backward toward the far shore pulling the wide eyed elf maiden with him.
Another grin twisted his fang filled mouth. The pair were so frightened it was as if they didn't even have enough sense to make an attempt to flee. Just as the horse and a heartbeat later the elf maiden gained solid ground and while he was still nearly ten paces from them Umag gathered his strong legs beneath him and leaped.
As true as an arrow he came down almost dead center between the pair. The horse, panic stricken reared and Umag raised his sword to strike a killing blow but instead of the huge beast charging it whirled and fled into the dark forest. For a second as he looked into the large soft blue eyes of the elf maiden uncertainty as to his next move wormed into his brain, and his battle hardened reflexes and instinct failed him.
His sword hand dropped leaving him open to her attack, but she made no move toward the ornate silver handled knife strapped to her right thigh. Instead her long thin fingers reached out lightly caressing his scared wart covered yellowish green cheek. Her touch was as intimate as his woman's had been before she had died in battle beside him. She had been given to him by the master, not just because of his rank but because of his bravery in battle as well.
Love was foreign to his kind, but the master had said he should cherish and protect her and he had done his best. But as was her want, and though her kind was exceedingly rare, she had insisted in fighting beside him. When the elf arrow had pierced her throat and as she lay dying in his arms the battle had been forgotten. Her last jester before her life's blood had bubbled from her mouth had been a soft touch to his cheek much as the elf maiden was doing now.
Moisture filled his eyes as the memory of the loss of her filled his brain. Never had he felt such a rending and in his anguish he had been as terrible as a balrog. Human and elf alike had quaked and fled before him that terrible day but he had shown no mercy, no pity. How many he had killed in avenging the death of his mate he didn't know.
Even when he was surrounded by elves and his sword had broken his rampage had not lessened. With claws and teeth he had ripped the life from his hated enemies and not once through it all had he taken a step back from his mate. Shaking his head to clear it of that terrible day he stood numbly as whisper soft words he couldn't begin to understand touched his ears.
He watched her lips moving, heard soft cooing sounds purring from her throat. To his astonishment and disbelief together with continuing cooing sounds she stepped to him and began running her long fingered hands lightly over his tree limb thick forearms and over his massively muscled chest. Her touch, the closeness of her shapely body, like a blanket on a cold night, sent a warmth through him that he was at a lose to explain.
Tighter she pressed to him and as she did her hands rose to cradle his broad ugly face and her small lips came down covering the wide slash of his tusk filled mouth. His brain screamed at him that what was happening wasn't right, that he was in danger but he couldn't move.
Dumbstruck he watched her take a step back. Watched as she untied then dropped the almost nonexistent small patches of cloth covering her small yet firm breast. For several heartbeats she stood looking at him before again reaching out. But this time her long fingered hands took his and brought them to her breast. Instinctively his stubby fingers squeezed and a quivering sigh spilled from her soft lips.
With her hands still coving his and while pressing his tighter to her small but firm breast her eyes slowly closed. A soft stuttering whimper issued from her and her head fell back as his fingers, at first lightly then harder, pinched and rolled nipples that were almost as big as the tip of his smallest finger.
For a life time they stood thus, he, pinching, squeezing, rolling breast and nipple and her sighing contentedly. Then opening her eyes, and while looking into his mystified yellowish orbs her hands dropped from his to her hip. A moment later the whisper thin dark cloth that had been doing little to hid her lower body fluttered to the waters edge and floated away.
With but her pale red arm and leg coverlets remaining she stood unashamedly before him for several in drawn breaths. Slowly, as if not to startle or alarm him, her long fingered hands rose to again cover his. The pressure of her fingers, her soft pleasurable moan were as indications that she welcomed perhaps even treasured his touch.
As he looked at her confusedly she smiled warmly. Slowly, though he was reluctant to release her small firm breast, he let her pull his hands from her. When he did so she pulled his arms about her placing his broad stubby fingered hands on her tight firm buttocks. Without further invitation he squeezed each tight cheek and she, without the slightest of hesitation, once more willingly pressed her willowy body to his.
Again her long cloth covered fingers lightly glided up and down his tree limp thick arms and across his broad muscular chest. Again her lips lightly touched his before moving downward over his chin, his thick neck, his broad scaly chest. As her lips moved ever lower she fell to her knees before him. Whimpers that he knew to be that of arousal such as human females sometimes made issued from the elf maidens throat as her long slim fingers worked to loosen his coverings.
His mind coming awake he brushed her hands away taking charge of removing his girdle and leggings. His struggles were made all the more difficult with her squeezing and stroking his long fist thick organ through his corse coverings. Finally though he stood before her naked, his massive tool swaying less then a fingers width from her lips.
With her hot breath washing over the head of his secreting blood engorged organ, her long thin fingers stroking, squeezing him to even greater rigidity she looked up into his eyes. His hands reaching out, his fingers pushing into her sunset red hair; her heart shaped face moving unresistingly to him; her small perfect lips parting.
Pain! White hot searing pain exploding in his chest. His back arching, his hands wanting to reach up but unable to. Yellowish pus colored blood spraying from his lips together with his scream. Dumbly he looked down at the still kneeling elf maiden as if seeking an explanation.
Something protruding from his chest shimmering like the new born sun. His eyes clouding making it difficult for him to see the elf maidens beautiful face. He can admit that now, now that he knows that he is dying. Her and her kind are the very soul of the earth beautiful in every way, while he and his kind are but a mockery to their perfection.
Somehow one of his hands finds her face, caresses it brushes a tear from her cheek. He would have loved her, treasured her, protected her even more then he had the mate that the master had given him. He would have killed anyone, even the master if he thought they meant her harm.
Another white hot rending pain explodes in his chest as the shimmering blade is twisted then pulled out. Unable to stand he drops to his knees. With extreme effort of will he raises his head from his chest focusing his rapidly glazing yellow orbs on the soft sky blue eyes filled with tears. Her arms reaching up cradling his head bringing it to her heaving naked breast. Soft pleasurable sounds interrupted by an occasional catch in her throat touch his ears as she slowly rocks back and forth.
His eyes close. A feeling of contentment, of peace, of tranquility that he has never known washes through him. His last thought as his final breath leaves him is that she an elf shed a tear for him. He is not aware of the soft Kingly elf voice telling his daughter and two dozen personal bodyguard that he would rather lose his kingdom then to ever again so deceitfully and without honor kill such a valiant and worthy foe.
Neither is he aware that before they depart that his body, instead of being left to carrion, is washed and clothed in the finest of elfin robes. That he is placed on a bed of pine boughs and that with the elfin princess that he so loved with his dying breath crying over him his funeral pyre is lit.
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