Princess Ellora was the middle child of the queen, and with her older sister leading the military, and her younger sister given to diplomacy, Ellora had found her own place within the elven priesthood.
Beautiful, blonde and buxom, Ellora was possessed of a serene temperament and a generous nature, and when she had completed her novitiate, her royal blood had entitled her to claim the title of High Priestess of Shel-Henneth, the elven goddess. Her duties were to run the High Temple in the capitol, and to preside over services of national worship, and set the course of the church and its teachings for the entire nation of Tylia.
It had been a trying time for Ellora recently. There had been so many changes since the death of her father. The beastfolk were everywhere. The beastmen walked around with their massive erect cocks visible for all the world to see, and the beastwomen made no effort to cover their breasts or groins.
Worse, her mother Queen Syluin was acting like – well, acting like a slut. She had that disgusting Beastman ambassador Red Horn with her all the time, and she wore a *collar* – as if she were a slave, or a pet – and she had even taken to holding court with her breasts exposed in the beastfolk fashion.
Her older sister Dastiya had inexplicably followed suit, issuing ridiculous new armour to her elite Steel Flowers squadron which humiliatingly bared the tits and pussies of the female soldiers.
And, worst of all, her younger sister Liri had arranged a new law that made it compulsory for elven women to address beastfolk men as “sir” – on pain of imprisonment.
These developments all troubled Ellora greatly – but she took comfort in her religion. Shel-Henneth, the Divine Light, was a goddess of wisdom and grace, and Ellora had faith that she would guide Tylia through its current troubles.
This morning Ellora had risen early to visit the Temple. The first official service today would not be until the afternoon, and so the morning offered a chance for Ellora to worship without the distraction of acolytes or priests or members of the public.
She had dressed in her simple priestly robes – white and diaphanous, held in place at her shoulders, crossing over her ample breasts, and then coming together to hang between her legs, secured by a simple belt of silver string at her waist. She wore no underwear or shoes, as was the custom of priestesses. Shel-Henneth preached beauty in simplicity, and divinity in purity.
She knew how she looked in the robes. The priestess costume had been designed for elven women with somewhat flatter breasts and less curvy thighs than Ellora possessed, and Ellora’s body strained at it everywhere, distorting it in ways that sometimes seemed lewd. She had seen the tightness in the pants of male priests and male churchgoers, and although she was a virgin, she had no illusions about what it portended.
But if they were aroused, it was only because she was beautiful,and beauty was a gift from Shel-Henneth, and nothing to be ashamed of. Let them look.
The main worship area of the temple was a long, echoing hall of white marble. The ceiling stretched far overhead. Light filtered in through beautiful stained-glass windows. At the the far end of the hall was a towering marble statue of Shel-Henneth herself, her transcendent beauty covered by robes very much like those that Ellora was wearing.
Ellora had expected the temple to be empty – but she was surprised to find someone was already present – a lone figure gazing speculatively up at the statue of the goddess.
And not just anyone. A beastfolk woman – and specifically, a snake lady. The upper half of her body resembled a buxom elven brunette, her large tits exposed in the manner of the beastfolk, but below the waist her body was a single thick, scaled, serpentine tail.
“Can I help you?” asked Ellora, nervously, as she approached.
The woman turned to look at Ellora – and Ellora was struck both by her beauty, and by her breasts. It seemed to Ellora she had never seen a bosom as perfect as this – so round, so taut, with areola of the ideal size, and nipples so perky.
There was something about the way the snake-woman moved – a subtle, gentle swaying, born from the way she balanced upon her serpentine body – that made the breasts move and jiggle in a manner that was hard to look away from.
Ellora tried to raise her gaze to the woman’s face – but whenever her concentration lapsed, she found herself staring at the woman’s tits again, in a completely inappropriate way. She blushed – but couldn’t seem to help herself.
The snake-woman was smiling. “You must be Princess Cunt,” she said.
Ellora jumped. “Excuse me?” she asked, not sure if she had misheard.
“That is what your elven name means, yes?” said the snake-woman. “Ee-lor – the cunt?”
“No,” said Ellora. “It’s Ellora – the flower.” She blushed. “The two words do share a common origin. A woman’s genitals might metaphorically be described as a flower, you see…”
“My apologies,” said the snake woman. “The intricacies of your elven tongue are difficult for us beastfolk. We are, after all, a savage people.” She smiled. “My own name is Rathi, from the cunt that birthed me, who was named Lathi. A similarity of names, you see? And I only thought that perhaps the women in your family had also followed a naming scheme. The cunt that birthed you is Syluin – “the Bimbo” – and your sisters are Daksya, “the Cocksleeve”, and Lari, “the Sex Decoration”. I heard your name and thought it fitting that you might be the Cunt.”
“No,” said Ellora in frustration. “Those aren’t their names. It’s Sylene, and Dastiya, and Liri. You really must try harder to say them correctly, or else it is quite offensive.”
“My apologies again, Princess Eelor,” said Rathi, once again mangling Ellora’s name. “It was not my intent to offend. But your elven words are so hard on my tongue. You will not mind if I call you Princess Cunt, will you?”
The snake-woman’s breasts were moving now in a figure-eight pattern. Ellora felt strange. It was so hard to look away. She didn’t know why she was staring at them. She appreciated the beauty of women, yes – and her romantic fantasies included both women and men, even as she knew that as a virgin priestess they would never be fulfilled. But she had never obsessed on a woman’s tits like this.
She couldn’t think straight. What was Rathi asking?
“You seem distracted, Princess Cunt,” said Rathi. Her voice was low, now, with a kind of serpentine sibilance. Was that a forked tongue visible between her lips? Ellora thought it might be, but couldn’t bring herself to raise her gaze from the woman’s breasts.
“I’m sorry,” Ellora mumbled.
“Listen to me, Princess Cunt,” said Rathi. “It’s a good name for you. It describes you well. You want to please me. You want my approval. You will answer to Princess Cunt. It is a shameful name, but one you deserve. It would be wrong of you to object. Only a rude bitch would object. You will answer to Princess Cunt.”
Ellora thought the woman’s tits were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
“I will answer to Princess Cunt,” she mumbled. “It would be rude to object.”
“Good girl,” hissed Rathi, pleased. And then she snapped her fingers sharply. “Eyes up!”
Ellora jumped, and looked up at Rathi’s face, blushing. How could she have been so rude? Arguing over names like a… like a rude bitch, while openly ogling this woman’s bosom. What had come over her?
“I’m so sorry,” she stammered.
“You are forgiven,” said Rathi. “And so what should I call you?”
“Oh, Princess Cunt is fine,” said Ellora promptly. “It’s a little embarrassing, but… well, it suits me.” She didn’t know how, exactly, it suited her, but it seemed incredibly rude to keep correcting Rathi on her elven pronunciation. Even if the words made Ellora uncomfortably aware of her *actual* cunt, and made her feel dirty and humiliated…
“Thank you, Princess Cunt,” said the snake-woman. “You are lucky, you know. There are many forms of beastfolk – many variations of bestial characteristics, that may be expressed randomly in each child – but snakefolk like me have no genitals of any sort. We are something of an evolutionary dead-end, unable to breed. I envy your cunt immensely.”
“Thank you,” said Ellora, “and I’m sorry about your – situation.”
The snake-woman shrugged. “There are some compensations. My sex-melons are, by comparison, incredibly sensitive… and talented.” She smiled mischievously.
Ellora was blushing so hard her face felt like it was on fire. All this talk of tits and cunts was embarrassing – and to top it all off, Ellora found herself wanting to stare at Rathi’s “sex-melons” again, even though she knew how crude it would be to act in that fashion.
She desperately tried to change the subject.
“May I ask why you are here, today, in the temple, Rathi?”
“Ah,” said Rathi. “I have been delegated by my leader Red Horn to learn of the elven religion. You may consider me something of an ambassador to your temple, to help bring about greater closeness between your church and my people. And so I had hoped to learn something of your goddess, and your beliefs. Can you tell me of the bitch depicted in the statue? Shol’han, is it?”
Yet again Rathi’s beastfolk tongue had made a mess of the name. “Shol’han” might be translated as “the pouting whore”.
“Shel-Henneth,” corrected Ellora. “The Divine Light.”
“And what is her story?” asked Rathi.
“In the beginning was the Overgod, Aras,” said Ellora. “And he was cruel, and lazy, and content to dwell amongst the void and rule over nothing. But to entertain himself, he created two daughters out of the divine stuff of the void. From the pure light of the stars, he created Shel-Henneth – noble, kind and wise – and from the darkness of the void he created Sla-Abroth – cruel, jealous and wanton.”
“Shel-Henneth sought to share her beauty, by creating light and life, and so she created our world, and all the plants and rocks and water and air, and all the lesser birds and beasts, and she set it spinning in perfect equilibrium, that it might please herself, and please her father.”
“But Sla-Abroth cared for nothing but filth and corruption and the needs of her wet, whorish, cunt. She whispered in her father’s ear that it would be good for him to enjoy the bodies of his daughters, and use them for his pleasure. ‘Why have you created us with holes for your cock,’ she asked, ‘if you do not intend to fill them?’”
Rathi smiled. “A valid argument,” she said.
Ellora blushed and went on. “And so Sla-Abroth coupled with her father in wanton intercourse, and in doing so, she forsook her divine purity. She became pregnant with her father’s child, and from that pregnancy sprang the race of humans – a foolish, aggressive, short-lived people, far removed from the divinity their mother once held.”
“But the Overgod Aras was not done. He wished to sample his other daughter – the beautiful Shel-Henneth. But Shel-Henneth refused to lie with him.”
“This angered Aras – and it also angered Sla-Abroth, who wished to please her father, and who also wished to see her sister be raped, for the voyeuristic pleasure it would bring to watch. So Sla-Abroth set out to betray her sister. She walked the surface of the world that Shel-Henneth had made, and she visited each of the kinds of beast her sister had crafted – and she allowed the beasts to lie with her, and dominate her, and spill their seed in her cunt. And from that union came the twisted and degraded race of beastfolk.”
Ellora stopped, blushing, realising what she had said. “Er… at least, that is what they teach us,” she mumbled. She was staring again at Rathi’s tits.
“It’s all right,” said Rathi. “We have a similar legend. Continue.”
“Sla-Abroth came to her sister with all her beastly lovers, and together they overpowered her. The great apes held down Shel-Henneth’s arms, and the serpents coiled around her legs and forced them apart. The wolves growled, and nipped at her throat in warning, and the birds pecked at her when she struggled.”
“And into this came Aras, who saw his beautiful daughter restrained, and he was pleased. He entered into her, and raped her, in the presence of her sister, and of the beasts, and from that rape he made her pregnant. That pregnancy resulted in the race of elves – but because Shel-Henneth never consented, she never surrendered her divinity, and that divinity lives within the elven people now, making us long-lived above all other races, and wiser and more beautiful than our kin.”
Rathi nodded. “Thank you for sharing this, Princess Cunt,” she said. “My people have a similar legend – would you like to hear of it?”
“Please,” said Ellora encouragingly.
“It is much like yours,” said Rathi, “except that we acknowledge Aras as the supreme god. All that exists, including women, comes originally from his male energy. He made two women to please him, and in our story one of them obeys, and fulfills her purpose, and one defies him, and thereby enters into sin. We call the sister of darkness “Abro’hon” – or the good girl – and the sister of light “Shol’han”, or the pouting whore.”
“That is… quite different,” said Ellora, blushing.
“Not so different,” said Rathi. “In our legend, Shol’han is a stuck-up bitch, who creates beasts, but sees them as lesser, and demands their servitude and subjugation – even as she refuses to serve her own father. Her pride threatens to twist all creation out of balance, so Abro’hon goes among the beasts, who she respects and cares for, and takes them for her lovers, so that together they might humble Shol’han, and save all of creation. It is only when Shol’han is restrained and raped by her father than balance is restored – but because Shol’han never consented, the race of people that sprang from her never received Aras’ true power, making the elven people weak and stupid compared to their kin.”
“I had no idea your people had myths that were so similar… and yet so strange,” said Ellora.
“It does not surprise me that you had never thought to ask,” smiled Rathi. “We beastfolk acknowledge the divine superiority of men. When a beastfolk woman reaches her age of majority, it is common, wherever possible, that she loses her virginity to her father, as a form of tribute to Aras the Overgod, Tell me, Princess Cunt – I know your father has passed away, but did you ever have the chance to fuck him while he still lived?
“No!” squeaked Ellora. “That is not something my people do. It is forbidden – taboo…”
“Ah, even now your people continue the blasphemy against Aras,” said Rathi. “I see. I am sorry that you never had the chance to taste your father’s cock, Princess Cunt.” She chuckled. “You know, some among my people believe that the divine balance is still out of true, and that the universe will only be restored to a perfect state when every elven woman has been violently raped, just as their creator was.”
“Well, I am glad that their beliefs will never come true,” said Ellora haughtily. “But still, this has been an eye-opening discussion. Thank you for sharing with me, Rathi.”
“Princess Cunt, I noticed that you have been staring at my sex-melons,” said Rathi. “It’s a very slutty thing to do, to stare at a woman’s sex-melons, but you can’t help yourself, can you?”
Ellora felt mortified that Rathi had noticed – and yet, even as she said it, Ellora’s eyes were focused on Rathi’s tits. Rathi was swaying again in that way that moved her fuckbags in intriguing patterns, and Ellora simply couldn’t tear her eyes from them.
“No,” she said, in a quiet voice. “I can’t help myself.”
“Princess,” said Rathi. “I desire to look upon *your* cunt. I have none for myself, so I wish to inspect yours. You don’t mind me looking, do you?”
Ellora was silent. She *did* mind – but she didn’t want to say so. She wanted to please Rathi. She wanted Rathi’s approval. She wanted to keep staring at Rathi’s tits.
Something firm and scaly wrapped itself around Ellora’s legs. She didn’t take her eyes off the hypnotic breasts, but she guessed it was Rathi’s tail. It was so long, and powerful. It wrapped around her left leg, and then pushed between her legs to independently wrap around her right legs.
“You want to please me, Princess Cunt,” said Rathi. “You want to be a good elven fuckdoll for Mistress Rathi. You want to show off your cunt and make your mistress happy. Say ‘yes, mistress’.”
“Yes, mistress,” breathed Ellora.
The coils around her legs tightened – and Ellora felt her legs being pulled apart, into a wider stance. She gasped.
“Your cunt is dirty, Princess Cunt,” said Rathi. “Your cunt is shameful. You should be ashamed of it. The fact you have a cunt means you deserve to be raped, just like your goddess. Your cunt makes you stupid and inferior. When people see your cunt, they see you as an animal, as an object, and that’s how you deserve to be seen. You deserve punishment because of your cunt. Isn’t that right, Princess Cunt?”
“Yes,” breathed Ellora. These were things she had always believed, at some level. Elven women did not expose their bodies. Elven women who exposed their cunts *were* dirty, and slutty, and probably deserved to be punished. The casual nudity of the beastfolk was one of the reasons the elves thought beastfolk were savage and bestial and inferior. Only a degrade slut would expose her cunt.
“Now let’s see your cunt, princess,” said Rathi. The tip of her tail slid up Ellora’s inner thigh, curled around the fabric of her dress, and then lifted it, tucking it back into her rope belt with surprising dexterity.
Now Ellora’s bare pussy was exposed, her legs forcibly parted to make it easy to see.
“So pretty,” hissed Rathi. “You have such a slutty, pretty little fuckhole, Princess Cunt.”
“Thank you, mistress,” said Ellora. She would do anything for those perfect, round, swaying tits. She would say what she was told to say, and believe it.
“Tell me about your fuckhole, Princess Cunt,” said Rathi.
“I have a slutty, pretty fuckhole,” said Ellora, in a flat, emotionless voice. “It is shameful and dirty and disgusting. It makes me stupid and inferior. My cunt means I deserve to be raped. I deserve to be seen as an object and an animal.”
“Good girl,” said Rathi. “Those thoughts will go through your head always, now, at the back of your subconscious. And when your attention is directed to your cunt, they will become loud. Do you understand?”
“Yes, mistress,” said Ellora.
The snake-woman’s tail returned to Ellora’s inner thigh – and then Ellora squeaked. Rathi was pushing her tail into Ellora’s cunt! She felt the nimble, scaled tip of the tail pushing between her cunt-lips, and exploring the entrance to her fuckhole.
“So wet, Princess Cunt,” chuckled Rathi – and Ellora realised it was right. She *was* wet. How had she become so aroused? Surely not just from staring at a woman’s tits.
Rathi pushed her tail a little further into Ellora’s twat, and then said, “And yet, your cunt is holy, is it not? After all, of all of your god’s attributes, it was her cunt which was of greatest value to her father. And it is from her cunt that your entire race was spawned. Isn’t your cunt your most valuable and worthwhile part of your body?”
Ellora said nothing as she processed the conflicting thoughts. Her cunt was dirty and disgusting and shameful – and yet it was the most important part of her. It was holy, because it existed to be raped. Having a cunt meant she deserved to be raped – and yet because she *could* be raped, and impregnated, her cunt was valuable.
She made a little moan. These thoughts were brushing up against her core beliefs – her religion, her identity – in ways that made her feel panicky.
Rathi laughed again. “Oh, are you worried I’m making you think blasphemous thoughts, Princess Cunt?”
‘Yes, mistress,” breathed Ellora.
“Well, we can’t have that,” said Rathi. “You must serve your whore goddess, mustn’t you? Well, consider this, Princess Cunt. Is it not a blasphemy to hide your holy cunt, and deny your connection to the Pouting Whore?”
Ellora whimpered again.
“Of course it’s a blasphemy,” whispered Rathi – and as she did, she pushed her tail deeper into Ellora’s fuckhole. She came closer, bringing her tits closer to Ellora’s face.
“You won’t commit that blasphemy any more, Princess Cunt,” said Rathi. “From now on you will never hide your cunt. You will come up with a new priestly garb that leaves you naked below the waist – and you will encourage other priestesses to wear it, too. You will be ashamed and humiliated by your nudity, and you will understand that your choice to expose your cunt makes you deserving of punishment and rape – but you will nevertheless not cover yourself, and encourage other elven women to make the same decision. It would be blasphemous to do so. Do you understand, Princess Cunt?”
Ellora whimpered again. It was wrong. She knew it was wrong. And yet…
“Hmmm,” pondered Rathi. “It seems your will is stronger than I thought. Perhaps I cannot force you into believing this. But you can still *choose* to submit, can you not, Princess Cunt?”
She laughed. “Very well,” she said. “Would you like to kiss my sex-melons, Princess? Would you like to suck on them?”
Ellora very much did. She nodded eagerly.
“Well, you can – but only if you believe what I just told you about your cunt. You do not have to – but if you do not believe, you cannot touch my tits. Only when you internalise and accept everything I told you will you be able to place your mouth upon my fuckbags – and when that happens, I will also reward you with an orgasm. Do you understand, Princess Cunt?”
She moaned – but nodded that she did understand.
“Very well,” said Rathi. “What is your choice?”
It was blasphemy – and mortifying, humiliating, obscene – to choose to expose her cunt everywhere. And yet, what Rathi had said made a certain amount of sense. There was a *lot* of focus on Shel-Henneth’s groin in the creation myths – and the subsequent teachings and rituals seemed to gloss over that. Was it possible that the female priestesses had been committing blasphemy all this time by hiding their pussies?
Of course not. That was ridiculous.
But if it was ridiculous, Ellora wouldn’t get to kiss the snake-woman’s perfect tits.
So… maybe it wasn’t so ridiculous. Maybe it was possible.
Maybe herself, and all her female priestesses, had been unwittingly acting like spoiled bitches all this time, in choosing their dignity over the truth of Shel-Henneth’s cunt?
It was nonsense. She would have to be stupid to think such a thing.
But she wanted so badly to kiss Rathi’s breasts. And after all… she *was* stupid, wasn’t she? Her cunt made her stupid. Rathi had told her that. If it didn’t make sense, maybe that was just because she had a cunt, and that meant she wasn’t very intelligent.
That must be it.
And she felt her mind expanding, as she accepted Rathi’s blasphemous assertions about her cunt. She *would* keep it bare – like a slut, like a whore, like an object that deserved to be raped. She would humiliate herself for her goddess, and show off her filthy, disgusting fuckhole to anyone who wanted to look, and she would find a way to make the other priestesses do the same.
And as soon as she accepted those thoughts, she found herself bending forward, her mouth latching onto Rathi’s erect, perfect nipple, and she felt herself start to suck.
It felt amazing. It felt like exactly where she was meant to be – bare cunted, restrained, suckling lustfully on her beastfolk mistress’ nipple. Betraying her dignity and her faith like the stupid elven cunt she was.
As she sucked, Rathi put her hands on Ellora’s head, pulling her closer to her tits, stroking her beautiful blonde hair. And as she did, her snake tail began to pump vigorously in and out of Ellora’s fuckhole.
It took only minutes for Ellora to experience her first penetrative orgasm, and when she did she squealed, and shook, and went limp against her mistress. Rathi held her, the elven princess’ face still crushed against the snake-woman’s ample cleavage.
“There’s a good cunt,” she hissed. “Just exactly as you deserve. I think there is much more we can learn from each other, sharing in each other’s bodies like this – and much more than I can teach you about your god, and your religion, and about how elven cunts like you should behave…”
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