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Queen Kissy of Terna was excited. The elves were coming!

Ever since Kissy had been a young girl, she had idolised the elves. She had never seen one, of course – they rarely emerged from their sacred woodland realm of Ylas-Ell – but she had dreamed of their graceful, delicate beauty, and had always wished that she could be an elf herself.

Ever since a slutty curse had led Kissy to sell her nation into misogynistic slavery under the Gartish Empire, it had been hard for Kissy to remember that beauty and grace still existed in the world. Her life, and the lives of her female subjects, appeared to be nothing but a parade of fresh degradations. But now the Gartish Ambassador had informed her that an elven royal delegation were coming to her very court!

She only heard about it on the day they were due to arrive, of course. Kissy was usually the last to know everything these days. The Gartish handled her diplomatic affairs, drafted policy and laws, and merely brought their decisions for her to fix her royal seal to – which she was usually required to do in her throne room, before her entire court, while openly masturbating in front of her subjects.

She was upset that she had had no part in negotiating the visit of these elves. She was upset that she still had no idea why they were coming or what they wanted. She was upset that, apparently, gifts had been sent to these elves, under her name, and she still had no idea what those gifts had been.

More than upset – she was angry. But the last time she had expressed even a hint of anger at the Gartish ambassador, he had smiled a broad, cruel smile, and told her that she would need to be disciplined, and that she would cooperate in her discipline. He had told her, in brutal detail, what he would cause to have done to certain women among her handmaids and attendants if she did not cooperate. And in the end, Kissy had found herself stripping nude in front of her own court, and commanding the most lowly stable boy in the castle to use a riding crop to viciously beat her tits until she was able to masturbate to orgasm, and thereafter to ejaculate on her face so she could wear his cum for the rest of the day.

She had not been angry with the ambassador since. When he insulted her, treated her like an object, and made her a mere decoration in the running of her own kingdom, she just smiled brightly, straightened her shoulders to emphasise her udders, and thanked him for treating her as she deserved.

Today, though, it was easy to set the anger aside. The elves were coming!

She knew what to expect. Elves were slender, graceful, regal. They were ageless, immortal, forever young, and they shone with a pure radiance that brought peace to those who laid eyes upon them. The merest hint of their affection could heal all ills, and their natural magic brought order and calm into the universe.

It was difficult for Kissy to sit still on her throne as she waited for the elves to arrive. Of course, part of that was her now-habitual royal garb – a corset that lifted up her large tits but did nothing to cover them; a skirt which opened wide at the front to frame her groin; intricate cunt jewellery which spread her fuckhole wide open for all to view; an uncomfortable diamond butt-plug; and heavy emerald pendants hanging from clamps on each nipple. She had a long streak of the Gartish ambassador’s sperm drying across her left eye and cheek, and she was sucking childishly on a lollipop the Gartish ambassador had prepared for her, which he informed her was made largely of human breast milk and pig semen.

Above her throne hung the crest of her family, with its ancestral motto – “Pride and Dignity”.

Finally, at the appointed hour, the court herald stepped forward to announce the visitors. “From the Eternal Realm of Ylas-Ell, I present His Royal Highness Prince Tanethor, heir to the Elven Throne, protector of the Ghostwood, Sun-Knight of the Radiant Order, vanquisher of the bone-beast, champion of two realms.”

The man who stepped through the door was the most attractive thing Kissy had ever seen. Over the past months, the Gartish ambassador had helped Kissy learn to be lustful for both men and women, and this elf triggered both sets of attraction simultaneously. He was tall, thin, boasting a broad chest that was strong without being muscly. His facial features were all attractive edges, right down to his pointed ears, in the manner of a perfectly-made statue, and his long white-gold hair spilled in perfectly straight lines down to his waist. He wore something like an elegant military outfit, spun of metallic thread that shone and glittered in the light.

She wanted to kneel before this elf and worship him – which she knew (or had been taught by the Gartish ambassador) was the natural reaction of any woman to any man, and yet she had never felt it so strongly.

But even in that lust to submit, Kissy noticed the elf’s expression.

He looked angry.

The introductions were not done, however. The court herald continued. “The prince is accompanied by his first sister, Her Royal Highness Princess Eredethi, High Priestess of the Elven Faith, the Promised Virgin, Redeemer of Souls, Bride of the River and of the Wind.”

And as this elf woman stepped into the throne room, Kissy gasped.

She was unspeakably beautiful, of course. Her face alone would melt any heart – big wide green eyes in a perfectly pale face, framed by waves of golden hair held in place by a simple silver headband. Kissy would have given her very soul just to kiss those perfect elven lips, or hear the simplest word of affection from that lovely face.

But her breasts – instead of the perfectly proportioned, petite elven breasts that Kissy had expected from legend, Princess Eredethi’s udders were huge, especially by comparison to her slender frame. Kissy thought each one might be the size of a small winter-melon.

And there was no hiding their size. Instead of the impeccably-tailored metal-cloth that her brother wore, Eredethi was clad in only the filmiest white gauze. It would barely have covered each breast even if it were opaque – but the fabric was almost entirely see-through, and Kissy could see a thin trickle of milk leaking from each of the princess’ perfect elven nipples.

Nor did the fabric hide Eredethi’s cunt, and Kissy noticed immediately that the naturally-hairless elven pussy was just as beautiful as the rest of Eredethi’s body.

Eredethi did not seem at all comfortable with her state of dress. Her face was flushed crimson with humiliation, and against her pale skin the colour was all the more noticeable.

And there was one more visitor to go.

“And the prince is also accompanied by his second sister, Her Royal Highness Princess Celesiri, Battle-Maiden of Ylas-Ell, Mistress of the Royal Blade, Chaste Protector of the Throne, Defender of the Firewood Gate, Scourge of the Ashspawn Horde.”

Even next to her attractive siblings, Celesiri commanded attention. Instead of the white-gold hair of her brother or the yellow-gold of her sister, Celesiri’s long hair was a flaming red-gold, rippling wildly around a face that spoke of youth, passion, and fierce anger. She wore a longsword at each hip in a way that suggested she had long experience in using them, and walked with a warrior’s swagger.

But like Eredethi, her breasts were wildly oversized. Their size appeared to be new to her – it was subtly throwing off her balance as she walked. And her outfit was… attention-seeking.  

She wore armour, of a sort, but it concealed little of her body. One piece of worked silver ran from her ass-crack, between her legs, and covered her pussy – but it didn’t appear to be secured in place by strings or straps, and Kissy eventually worked out that it must be connected to a butt-plug on one end, and to a dildo or clitoris clamp or both at the other.

Two other pieces of metal formed a bra of sorts. Each breast had a silver wire running around its base, constricting the breast and making it bulge, and then the nipple itself was covered by a round metal plate. Again, there was nothing supporting the plate, and their weight drew each tit downwards – which must have been painful, as Kissy was fairly sure each plate was clipped to the nipple it protected.

She also wore a silver collar, engraved with an emblem that to Kissy’s eyes appeared to depict a spread cunt with semen dripping out of it, and she wore long leather boots with precariously high heels. A leather belt encircled her waist to support her sword scabbards. And apart from these items, she was otherwise nude.

“Ah, Prince Tanethor,” said the Gartish ambassador warmly. He was standing by Kissy’s side, on a platform that made him loom over her – and which kept his cock conveniently at Kissy’s head-height. 

“Gartish worm,” said Tanethor, coldly. Then, with somewhat more politeness, he bowed to Kissy. “Queen Kisantha.”

The ambassador tutted. “You should show more respect to those you seek favours from,” he said, “and less to female slut-pigs. It is sufficient to call her Majesty by the names “whore” or “pig”.” He eyed the elven women. “I see that at least you have made your bitches wear the gifts we sent you. It would have been quite unacceptable for females to have walked into this court pretending that they had authority and were not, in fact, rape-toys.”

Celesiri’s eyes flared with rage, and she moved to draw a sword. “I’ll cut you down for that insult, you toad!” she yelled. But she was clearly unaccustomed to both the weight of her heavy breasts, and the ridiculously high heels she was walking on, and the motion of drawing the sword made her lose her balance. She sprawled tits-first onto the floor, her sword sliding out of her grasp to where a palace guard was able to discreetly confiscate it.

The assembled nobles and courtiers laughed uproariously, as they had been taught to do whenever a woman was humiliated. Kissy, meanwhile, reached down and began to masturbate. She was required to masturbate whenever she saw a woman degraded, even (especially) if the woman was herself.

Celesiri pushed herself up on all fours, coiled, ready to spring, her face red with rage, but her brother made a small hand motion. “Enough, sister,” he said. “We came to treat, not to start a war.”

“The war has already started, brother!” Celesiri spat. “Surely you can see that!”

He turned to look at her with cold, hard eyes. “I speak here for the throne, sister, and you will *not* defy me. Get back on your feet, and put a harness on your temper, for all our sakes.”

Celesiri was furious – but she fell silent, and stood.

Tanethor turned back to the throne. “We have come to demand an immediate end to the foul Gartish activities on our border.”

The ambassador was silent, simply smiling, so, hesitantly, Kissy spoke. “What activities are those, your Highness?” she asked.

Tanethor’s face flushed. “You know precisely what activities,” he spat.

The ambassador sighed. “Actually, she really doesn’t, your Highness,” he said. “Women are very stupid, after all. She barely knows her own name. Why don’t you explain the difficulty to her?”

Tanethor’s face went even brighter red. He was silent.

“Are you… embarrassed, your Highness?” asked the ambassador.

Tanethor spoke through gritted teeth. “The Gartish are polluting our water,” he said.

The ambassador laughed loudly. “Oh, that’s one way to put it.” 

Kissy looked up at him mutely as she masturbated, hoping for an explanation – and this time she was lucky enough to receive one.

“The Kingdom of Ylas-Ell is fed by two rivers,” said the ambassador. “The Ironwater and the Meltrun – or at least that’s what we humans call them. The elven religion governs the use of these waters very strictly – only men can drink from the Ironwater, and only women from the Meltrun.”

Princess Eredethi, in her see-through gauze, spoke now for the first time. “Please, sir,” she said, “it is not some mere superstition. It is the pact we made with the Lord of Light. Keeping to our bargain guarantees our immortality and the beauty of our realm.”

“And the Gartish befoul that pact,” growled Tanethor.

“Oh yes,” said the Ambassador. “And your religious pact also prohibits elves from engaging in sexual congress with humans, does it not?”

“You know it does,” said Tanethor. “It rightly forbids allowing the tainted flesh of your kind from corrupting our purity.”

“And what happens when you disobey that pact?” asked the Ambassador innocently.

There was a long silence. Tanethor’s face was flushed red with rage. Eredethi blushed, and looked at the floor.

Finally Celesiri spoke. “An elf who couples with a human becomes their submissive slave, desperate for more of their disgusting human sex,” she spat. “And an elf who falls short of the penetrative act, but dallies with mortals, is marked for her sin.” She raised her voice, and cupped her oversized breasts. “In this case, by giant v’hen-sahk cow udders!” 

“I don’t understand,” said Kissy.

“Of course you don’t, slut,” said the ambassador. “You’re a woman. You see, the Gartish have long been interested in the natural lumber reserves of Ylas-Ell, but the stuck-up racist elves have refused to negotiate terms for a logging contract, and we have never been able to penetrate their well-defended borders. But recently the true nature of the elven pact with their deity came to light, and the Emperor had a rather wonderful idea.”

He grinned like the cat that ate the canary. “Because, you see, while the Ironwater originates in the high mountains of Ylas-Ell, its sister river, the Meltrun, flows out of Gartish territory.” He paused. “And so about three weeks ago, the Emperor tasked an entire battalion of the army to travel to the place where the Meltrun crosses into the elvish lands and…. well, masturbate into the river as often as they possibly could.”

Kissy stared at him, and then finally understood. “The elves have been drinking Gartish sperm?”

“Just the women,” said the ambassador. “The men drink from the other river. And it seems their pact is just as literal as we hoped. Every last elvish woman has been marked as the sperm-drinking slut she is with these attractive new fun-sized fuckbags.”

“This is an insult of the highest order,” fumed Tanethor. “We demand you cease immediately.”

“They could just drink from the other river,” pointed out the ambassador. “It seems to me that your women are *choosing* to drink sperm and grow giant whore-melons. They must *want* to do it.”

“Our pact with our god is quite clear,” said Eredethi. “Women simply cannot drink from the Ironwater.”

“Well, that sounds like a problem you’ve made for yourself,” chuckled the ambassador.

“Enough of this!” spat Celesiri. “Brother, let me kill him!”

The ambassador’s face turned stony. “That is quite enough disrespect from a woman,” he said. “Queen Kissy, have her disciplined.”

Kissy looked up at him in misery. She didn’t want to discipline this beautiful, fiery elf. But she had no other option.

“Guards, seize her, slap her across the face, and strip her nude,” she commanded – and then watched as they did. Celesiri tried to fight, but whatever skill she may have once possessed had not learned to allow for high heels and giant tits, and she was quickly overwhelmed. Kissy moaned and masturbated as the men struck the elf three times across the face, and then ripped her slutty armour from her body, leaving her nude but for collar and high heels.

“Release her!” demanded Tanethor.

“You’re in no position to demand anything,” snarled the ambassador. “Not before you arrived here, and certainly not after bringing such a disrespectful jumped-up fucktoy into our court.”

Tanethor abruptly realised that the remaining guards in the court had drawn their weapons, and he was surrounded.

“I’ve half a mind to make fuckslaves of your sisters and have you yourself executed,” said the ambassador. “But I’ll give you a chance to fix this situation.”

“How?” asked Tanethor.

“Show us that the elves know the true place of women,” said the ambassador. “Rape one of these bitches and cum inside her pussy.”

Tanethor was shocked – as was Kissy.

“But… they are my sisters!” he protested.

“They are bitches, nothing more,” said the ambassador. “I’ve even heard rumours that you’ve allowed both these whores to live their entire lives without sexually servicing a man.”

“I cannot!” he protested. “Eredethi is the High Priestess, the Promised Virgin. Her purity and chastity are a hymn to our god. For her to have sex would be a blasphemy of the highest order.”

The ambassador shook his head. “All I heard is that she’s a stupid bitch who needs to learn how to be fun to rape,” he said.

“And my sister Celesiri… does not enjoy men,” he said. “She prefers the company of women.”

“A woman’s preferences are irrelevant,” said the ambassador. “Choose one and fuck her, or else I’ll have the guards take turns with both of them until we’ve put a human baby in each.”

Tanethor looked despairingly from one sister to the other. For a long while it seemed like he might not choose at all – but then his gaze settled on Celesiri, still restrained by the guards.

“Brother, no!” yelled the princess. “You cannot! Please!”

“To rape you is an insult against your person, sister,” Tanethor said. “But to rape Eredethi is an insult against our god. The choice is easy.”

“Please! Please!” begged Celesiri, struggling wildly. But the guards held her down, and one wheeled a small leather bench out from one wall, where it was kept handy in case Kissy wanted to see a girl raped – which, at the ambassador’s direction, she frequently did.

The nude flame-haired beauty was bent over the bench, ass up, her perfect elven pussy winking towards the increasingly aroused Kissy. Tanethor walked over to her, avoiding eye contact with anyone, and took out his cock from his pants. It was every bit as impressive and graceful as Kissy might have expected an elven cock to be – and it was strainingly erect. Clearly Tanethor was not as unhappy with the idea of raping his sister as he claimed to be.

“Please, Tanethor, reconsider!” pleaded his other sister, Eredethi. But the elven prince ignored her.

Kissy moaned with lust as she watched Tanethor’s cock sink into his sister’s fuckhole. Celesiri bucked and writhed and screamed with primal rage, but Tanethor ignored her and began to rhythmically pound his phallus into her cunt. Celsiri’s oversized udders dragged back and forth against the bench on each thrust.

“I hear the seed of the elven line is strong, Tanethor,” commented the ambassador cheerfully. “I think your sister will look much more acceptable with your baby in her belly, don’t you?”

Tanethor grunted and ignored the ambassador, focused on raping his sister. Slowly, he began to speed up, until finally, he came to a sudden, shivering stop. Celesiri made a low, despairing moan, and then Tanethor pulled his cock out of her cunt, allowing the entire court to see his elven sperm dripping out of her womb. The court burst into approving laughter at Celesiri’s stricken, degraded expression.

“Very well done, Tanethor,” applauded the ambassador. “It seems you do have some knowledge of how to treat a bitch.”

“Are we free to go now?” asked Tanethor, grimly. “Have we offered sufficient entertainment? Will you end your befoulment of our waters?”

“Oh, heavens no,” said the ambassador. “Guards, seize the other elven cow – the priestess bitch.”

The guards stepped forward and grabbed Eredethi by the wrists. She wailed, but she was no warrior, and offered little resistance.

“Unhand her!” cried Tanethor wildly. “You promised!”

“It’s not up to *me*,” explained the ambassador, in a voice full of fake innocence. “Your fate is a matter for the Slut-Queen.” The ambassador turned to Kissy. “Your Majesty, my understanding is that, because of her nature as a holy virgin, if Eredethi is raped by a human man, it will fundamentally corrupt the entirety of the elves’ magic and their entire society. It could bring them to ruin in a single stroke.”

“No!” protested Kissy, in a thick, slutty voice. She didn’t want to see all the elven beauty she admired destroyed.

“But your Majesty,” said the ambassador, “we simply cannot let the elves go on treating their women as if they are *people*. It’s unacceptable, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” agreed Kissy, dumbly. “Women aren’t people.”

“Absolutely,” said the ambassador. “So if they *insist* on giving their women respect, we simply *must* rape the priestess bitch.” He paused. “Unless… you have some other idea? But it would need to be a very *thorough* one…” He grinned.

Kissy tried to think. She knew what the ambassador wanted, in broad strokes. But he was making her come up with the specifics, so that it would be her fault, her idea, her choice that made it happen. She would be the one to violate every elven woman…

Her cunt was so wet. She wanted to cum.

“I will give you a chance to prevent the rape of Princess Eredethi,” said Kissy, slowly. “The princess will stay here at the palace, where she will be my cunt slave, and service my pussy, but I will see to it that she is not touched by any man.”

Eredethi moaned in horror. But Kissy continued.

“In return, to ensure her safety from violation, you will return to your kingdom, and open your borders to the Gartish for logging. The Gartish will cease polluting your rivers, but you will require your women to drink the Gartish sperm directly from their cocks whenever the Gartish desire it. They look better with such whorish tits anyway.”

She paused, still masturbating. Her orgasm was close.

“Each month, you will send thirty elven women to the Gartish troops to spend the month being raped and impregnated, and you will send thirty here to my palace for the same purpose. My understanding is that once they have been raped, they will feel compelled to serve and please the cocks that raped them, but they *will* be given the chance to return home once their month is up, and if they choose to stay and continue serving human cocks, then that is their choice.”

She felt she was about to cum.

“And for the rest of your elven women, you will make it a crime for them to conceal their tits or cunt, a crime for them to go a week without being raped, a crime for them to disagree with a man, a crime for them to orgasm, and a crime for them to not actively participate in the degradation of other women. The penalty for all these crimes will be rape by a human male.”

She moaned, and shuddered, as she felt her orgasm start, but she stumbled through the last words of her pronouncement anyway.

“And you will publicly rape your sister Celesiri twice a week, and ensure that she spends the rest of her life pregnant with your babies. And you will bring her back here in a year’s time and demonstrate your skill in raping her, and if she has not by that time learned to orgasm from being raped by her brother while sucking a human cock and having her tits whipped with a belt, then the deal is off and I will have the ambassador here impregnate Eredethi.”

And then she was lost in the orgasm, her mind full of the horrible, slutty things she had just said. She was barely aware of Tanethor, shaking with rage, forced to accept her terms. She didn’t notice as the guards forced Eredethi to all fours, and then led the beautiful princess, crawling, across to the throne – and she only barely noticed when they forced Eredethi’s head against Kissy’s cunt, and the elf princess began to tentatively, unwillingly, lick Kissy’s sopping wet fuckhole clean with her tongue.

“All hail Slut-Queen Kissy, Whore to Men and Raper of Elf-Bitches!” proclaimed the ambassador.

And as Kissy humped her cunt against the elven priestess’ defeated face, the court hailed her in the only way that was appropriate – with mocking, derisive, cruel laughter….


If you enjoyed this story, buy the complete novella The Ternish Betrayal from my creator site for only $3.99 USD! (Click here to view in store.)


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