Chapter Nine: Incubus

Alassiel felt the hard metal of her sword hilt in her hands, let her narrow against the smoke and fumes of the battlefield. “What are you doing here, Elide…”

The dark haired elf laughed, brushing aside her mane, the metal ornaments in her braids clinking together. “What do you think would happen after you betrayed us, after you showed Lahk the way to Caladwen?” Her eyes were narrowed into angry slits as she spun her blade in her hands. “It’s gone now, traitor… as is Elide. I, Uthielle, am the only child of the city left.”

She hefted her sword and straightened it, pointing the tip at Alassiel’s golden eye. “Or I will be… after you’re gone.” Uthielle snarled, peeling her lips back from her teeth as he gestured with her off hand, motioning for Alassiel to approach.

Hundreds of times in her life, Alassiel had crossed blades with the woman. She had been one of her trainers with the blade throughout the war of Ascension, teaching her time and time again the art of the sword… and Alassiel had always lost. Now, however, things were different. Drawing strength from her connection with the earth, the Archdruid charged, and for the first time Menelrûth struck against another magic blade.

They started easily, each measuring her steps in the unorthodox arena in the middle of the war. The twisted remains of one of the city walls opened here. The gap was only perhaps ten feet wide, but immediately behind them in narrowed to almost nothing, closed off by the fallen rubble. The footing was treacherous, and the smoke made visibility difficult, casting shadows through the flames of the siege.

The first real attack came from the dark haired elf. A backhand slash with her sword led Uthielle’s routine, the rest of her body following afterward. A solid parry sounded, and Alassiel snapped herself forward, seeking to slip Menelrûth through the opening created by Uthielle’s blade… an opening that was immediately closed by a retreating movement in the blink of an eye, with Alassiel’s attack slapped harmlessly aside. She was fast… faster than Alassiel had expected her to be, faster than she remembered. It gave her pause… the woman had always been fast as a striking snake, but now she seemed faster still, able to keep up with the goddess’s speed, and her strikes rang with power enough to shake Alassiel’s arms.

She had gained power from somewhere.

They circled, Alassiel inside and near the wall, the traitor elf moving easily near the drop. Uthielle slashed low, unexpectedly short and shallow. Alassiel hopped back from the shortened cut, came with both hands on her sword in a two handed chop at the woman’s head. Uthielle’s sword darted left and right, worked horizontally above her head to block ensuing blows, and shifted its angle slightly to poke ahead, to keep the druid at bay while the she came back to equal footing.

In the same moment, Alassiel stretched out her hand toward the elf, calling for the earth power, willing the earth to swallow up her legs and lock her in place. She felt the earth answer her, the magic coming to her call, but felt a brief instant of pain as it shied away from Uthielle as though it were a burned hand from a flame, repelled by the Grace that shielded the woman from magic.

The Grace of a priestess.


Two months ago, Daggerport

“We really don’t have time for this…” Uthielle said as she backed up, bumping against the table in the room. “We need to find Helios and bring him back and join Lord Lahk in the south. Now is not the time for…”

Caleb picked up one of the chairs between him and the elven woman and casually pushed it across the room. It shattered against the wall into splinters of wood, without him seeing to try to put any strength into it at all. “I guess you don’t understand your place here, general,” he said as he stepped closer to her. “You are under my orders now. Our god gave you to me… and that means I decide what we have time for.”

The incubus grabbed Uthielle by the shoulders and spun her around, shoving her hard against the table. She couldn’t even bring herself to resist, so cowed was she by Lahk’s domination of her, but even had she wanted to the general doubted that she could do anything against his strength, do anything to even fight him as he pushed her down against the edge of the hard wood. “Now…” he said, grinning, “spread those legs you useless elf whore.”

Uthielle’s mouth was dry and she couldn’t speak as he kicked her feet wider and her chest pressed down on the wooden surface. She hated it, hated herself for the weakness, but she couldn’t even react as she heard the incubus begin to unfasten his armor behind her.

“Do you want to know my confession, slut?” he said from behind her as he started pulling at the hardened leather skirt of her armor, undoing the clasp that held it up. “I’ve never gotten a piece of pussy before now. Lahk created me out of a woman’s power… I’ve never existed with a cock before…” He pressed against her, and Uthielle shuddered as he licked the back of her neck. “I remember every single person my former vessel took, how it felt for her to claim them as her own… but I’ve never know the privilege. That’s why he sent me with you…” Uthielle felt her leather pleats lifted into the small of her back. She let out a tiny, horrified gasp as she felt the head of the demon’s cock pushing against her pussy lips. “I wanted a hot piece of elf cunt.”

Caleb grabbed for her hips and dug his fingers into her flesh like claws as he pressed his shaft into her hot, clenching slit, forcing his way into the lithe elf warrior. “Oh dark blessings and blood!” the demon bellowed in the small room, the sound reverberated off the walls like it was a vast cave or a bath chamber. “I hope you’re always this tight and dry, slut… you feel amazing…”

She could feel his hands squeezing her flesh tight. Uthielle finally started to scream as the demon tried to bury his cock in her pussy, the pain horrible as his huge cock pressed into her. He was enormous… larger than any human, and she tried to twist away and break free but her hips were pressed against the rough wooden edge of the table and he held tight to her body.

“That’s it bitch, it’s better when you fight!” he snarled into her ear. Uthielle could feel the tears streaking down her face and landing on the table top. It had been at least a week since she’d been abused, and the elf general had dared to hope, for a second, that her new position with the realm’s newest, greatest god would spare her further abuse. Instead, she found that her lot in life had gotten worse. She was no longer to be an exclusive plaything of Lord Lahk, but instead to be shared with this… demonic thing.

It was no worse than she deserved, she reminded herself. She had been a traitor, worthless scum. Through Lahk’s care, his adoration, his divine grace, she had been redeemed… but she still had a debt to pay, however Lord Lahk chose. She would endure this, for her lord.

Uthielle felt the demon’s nails digging into her skin as he worked his prick deeper and deeper in her belly. Her strong little hands clinched into fists behind her back as inch after inch of the incubus’s dick disappeared into her pussy. Uthielle, despite her determination to be strong, to take her punishment, could not stop herself from wailed… but she did nothing to stop Caleb from fucking her. He held her hips like a vice and started slamming his groin forward into her ass like he was driving a nail, brutally smashing her body into the hard edge of the table.

The elven high priestess could do nothing but weep silently while the incubus pounded her like an animal, lifting her toes up off the ground with each vicious thrust of hips as he buried his cock deep in her hole. Her pussy was dry and burned with the cruel rape, each shove of his cock into her snatch hurt as badly as all but the worst of the torments Lahk had put her through. ‘I deserve this,’ she reminded herself again and again while she tried not to scream, not to fight. ‘I deserve this. I deserve this…’

Caleb grunted and groaned as he buried his prick deep in Uthielle’s body, he let go of her hips and took hold of her long black hair like reins. She could only grunt in pain with each pull as he tugged brutally on her locks, using it to pull her against him.

“That’s it, that’s it cunt… make me cum! Make me cum for the first time with your whoring hole!” Uthielle felt like her hair was going to be ripped from her scalp as he tugged at it. Suddenly, she felt Caleb’s cock pop from her pussy and he twisted her violently to her knees. Uthielle had barely time enough to open her eyes and see the menacing, throbbing, cock mere inches from her face before the demon started to bellow. Her head tilted in resignation as she felt the hot sticky cum explode on her face, streaking across her lips and forehead, plastering her long smooth hair and pointed ears.

“You have no idea,” Caleb groan, “how long I’ve wanted to do that. The incubus stroked his prick, squeezing every last drop of thick sperm out onto Uthielle’s pretty elven face. She gagged as he forced the softening head of his dick between her lips. “Now… clean me up slut.”

Reluctantly, hating every second, Uthielle forced herself to use her tongue on the vile, fel organ.


Liam did not rush in the way Uthielle did, but instead slowly walked forward, giving his spear a small twirl as the incubus drew a pair of swords from sheaths at his belt. The demon peered at him through the smoke with red glowing eyes as the tall incubus approached, and Liam tried to discern what he could of the monster’s fighting style. The two swords he carried gleamed in the smokey flames. Although the demon was over six feet fall, he was not slight of build at all, and Liam would be careful not under-estimate his strength.

“I’m only going to ask once,” Liam said, spinning his spear in front of him. “You don’t need to fight. You can walk away, right now…”

Caleb only smirked as he took another step forward.

Liam took a step toward Caleb holding his spear pointed at the demon’s face. “Sheath your weapons and leave. Final chance.”

“The only reason I would have for putting away my weapons is to make this fight fair,” Caleb replied gruffly and charged.

With the spear held as it was, there was no opening for an attack, and the incubus merely went through an offensive flurry to see if the prince was as skilled as he claimed. Liam rotated his wrists as his spear swung about in front of his, using it like a staff to create an impenetrable disk. Caleb’s blades were batted harmlessly aside, feeling like they were being blocked by steel, not a wooden spear.

Liam stepped backwards, having learned as much from the brief attack as the demon had. He was probably the strongest foe he’d ever faced. Both of his weapons were razor sharp and obviously enchanted somehow, and he was inhumanly quick. Liam had always envied fighters who had the dexterity to use two weapons, and clearly this incubus was one such warrior. Still, he was not without advantages of his own. If Liam decided never to go on the offensive, the fight would last a very long time. He could easily stall until the fight between Alassiel and Elide was completed… but that was not an option. The prince knew well the skill of the elven general, and he wanted to go to the druid’s aid as quickly as possible.

Thankfully, despite the defensive preference of his style, he had clear offensive advantages as well. By releasing his grip on the spear during a swing and grabbing onto the end of it, the weapon could double in length in a split second, and transition between a strike like a club and a lethal stab in an instant. Also, each attack could always be followed by a second right behind it as the spear rotated completely around, forcing Caleb to hold each block longer than he would like and throwing him off rhythm. If the demon attacked high and low with his pair of blades, a move that would defeat almost anyone holding only one weapon, all Liam would have to do is rotate his weapon vertically to block both. Also each block could turn into an attack with a flick of his wrist.

Unfortunately, he was all too aware that he had weaknesses as well, weaknesses that a skilled opponent could use against him. All the attacks that Liam could make had to be made in a circular fashion. He could not swing straight across without stabbing himself in the stomach with the other end of the weapon. Since the weapon was much longer than his arms, and he held it in the middle, he could only attack by rotating it about himself or thrusting forward.

This limited his attack maneuvers. He could not thrust straight ahead. Nor could he swing straight down, unless he did so off to the side of his body, leaving the other side wide open.

“I warned you,” Liam said, suddenly spinning his spear insanely fast in front of his. It lashed out of the spin with a chop right for Caleb’s collarbone as he took several rapid steps forward.

Caleb hadn’t quite expected the speed and suddenness of the attack, but recovered in time to get one blade up to block the blow. Then, moving as quickly as he could, he kept the two weapons engaged and sidestepped his opponent. His second weapon flashed toward Liam’s unprotected side, a move that should have ended the fight right there.

The prince, however, used the leverage of his long weapon to shove Caleb’s blocking blade down, crossing his arms and forcing him to turn away from the attack so the lethal length of steel could no longer reach his armored side. Caleb released the block to free his weapons and rolled to the side as the opposite end of the spear swept by unblocked. Staying low, Caleb swiped a blade at Liam’s legs. The prince easily swept his weapon down to bat the attack aside and then rotated his grip to bring the weapon down on Caleb’s prone head.

The incubus’s sword came up to meet the spear, barely an inch above his head, the force of the blow almost pushing his own weapon into his scalp. Like Liam had been too well aware, however, attacking from above had forced the prince to move his spear to the side, opening the other side of his body. With one weapon holding off the spear, his the other searched for his opponent’s knee.

Liam would never be able to get his weapon in line for a block, but he had known this before he had attacked and had already scripted the end of this fight. Using Caleb’s blocking sword as a fulcrum, he leaped high in the air, flipping over the crouched incubus just ahead of his deadly stab. His spear stayed parallel with his body as he flipped over, and as he landed behind his opponent with his weapon vertically in front of his, he thrust it through his legs.

Caleb had predicted that he would not be able to thrust the weapon at him because his body was in the way, but as Liam’s feet landed behind him, slightly spread, he realized his mistake. He stood quickly, but his height suddenly presented a problem for the incubus. If he used the size of the target to full advantage, Caleb would still catch the pointed end of the spear in the small of his back. Working his legs for everything they were worth, Caleb leaped into the air himself, flipping over the tip of the spear.

While he had not thought the incubus capable of such a quick adjustment, he was also not unprepared for it. Liam rotated his body onto one foot, sweeping his spear out from under his other rising leg. The weapon collided with the inside of Caleb’s knee and spun him as well. While both fighters turned in the air, Liam did so in a mostly-coordinated cartwheel while Caleb landed rudely on his side.

The air was briefly knocked out of the incubus as he hit the ground, but he was not so disoriented to not realize he was vulnerable. He rolled quickly away from the prince just as the spear stabbed into the ground where he had been. He tried to rise, but a low sweep from the long weapon kept him low and rolling. He knew he was too far away from the prince for a traditional attack and anticipated Liam well.

The man let his weapon slip through his hands as he swung down on the rolling incubus, grabbing onto the end of the weapon before fell completely out of his grasp. The point of the six-foot weapon was aimed right at Caleb’s chest, but the skilled demon knew it was coming practically as soon as Liam did. He rolled to his left, letting the side of the spear hit his upraised right arm. The spear slid off his arm and fell parallel to Caleb’s back, the tip hitting the ground.

Before Liam could retract the weapon, Caleb rolled back on top of it and sat up, his weight snapping the other end of the weapon from Liam’s grasp. Caleb sprang from his sitting position in a rush, both blades swinging.


One week ago, outside Teheras

Uthielle felt that she had hit a new low.

Lahk having given her away to Caleb was one thing. He was a special demon, a cut above the rest, and if she considered herself to be the dark god’s left hand, than he was surely the right. This was something completely different… instead of being used like the whore she was by the mightiest of the demons, she was being given away as a prize to a few common soldiers.

Oh, the elven general considered that they weren’t exactly common. They were the unit that had performed the best in the recent invasion on the path the Teheras, but she still considered herself superior to them… and in Lahk’s eyes, that was a problem. A cunt like her should not consider herself above any man, anytime… not so long as that man served the true god. Still, if Lord Lahk hadn’t plowed her ass himself just the night before, she might feel like he was abandoning his high priest… and the elf had no illusions that she had a life after service to him. She would be with him until she died… one way or the other.

Caleb had set her up, got her prepared to be used. She was bent over the edge of the bed with dirty, ragged pillows stuffed up under her belly, her wrists pulled wide and tied in front of her to the corners of the heavy metal framed cot, her legs splayed wide and bound to the legs of the bed. They didn’t need to tie her up… she knew what she deserved, and if it was her god’s will that she suffer like this she’d not argue with him. She knew that she was going to be raped again, and it was no surprise to her any longer… though it bothered her more than it should have they Caleb hadn’t even bothered to take off her clothes. Uthielle couldn’t remember the last time she had worn panties, and the skirt of her leather armor had simply been unlatched and pushed up the small of her back, leaving her exposed and vulnerable.

Uthielle could hear the laughter of men coming from outside the tent, and she closed her eyes in horror as she heard the footsteps coming closer. This was so humiliating… her mouth was dry as the tent flap parted and the first the the men walked in. He was a human, not a demon, but she knew that there would be a mix… all of the units were mixed, supported by the incubi that Lord Lahk had summoned from the defeated Erinyes.

“So, what do you have to say, elf? Ready for us?” Uthielle twisted her head to look away, anywhere but at them. She heard several of them enter, but she couldn’t tell how many… and she knew there would be more right outside, waiting for their turns… at least a dozen, possibly as many as twenty depending on how many had survived the battle.

At the head of the line, the first one to enter, was a huge male, his face scarred up to his forehead, stopping his dirty blond hair from growing at the scar. He was wearing no armor, having already stripped it… only simple camp clothing. She didn’t know who he was, didn’t know who any of them were, but they were all violent, dangerous men… the only kind of man that Lahk would take for his soldiers, brutal men skilled in the art of violence, and possessed of a willingness to take what they wanted… like her.

“It seems only fitting,” the huge soldier said as he stroked his prick through his pants, “That we pay our tribute to our high priestess… the best way we know how.” The soldier smacked his hand down on her ass one time after another, slapping his palm down on her skin till her flesh was glowing red. “It’s my honor to take your elf body first.” He slapped his hand down on Uthielle’s ass one more time, chuckling in sinister amusement.

Uthielle groaned in shame as she felt the huge man’s cock plunge into her body. He was large, uncomfortably so, but not even as large as Lahk, and nothing like the monster that Caleb was. It was no worse than anything else she’d suffered… save that it was a no one she was being given to, someone of no significance… just like any other whore in Lahk’s stables. The humiliation seemed to almost feed the pain, and she let out a yelp as she felt his balls slap against her ass, his dick slam to the hilt in her dry pussy.

There was nothing gentle in the way he penetrated her, nothing human. She was less a woman being fucked than she was just an object for his use, a hole for his cock. “My Lahk, the little elf whore is tight.” Uthielle could feel other soldiers closing in around her but she didn’t look up, she just buried her humiliated face in the mattress as a man hundreds of years younger than her abused her, raped her, pounded into her pussy with brutal thrusts of his hips. The frame of the cheap cot scraped against the rock floor of the tunnels as he fucked her like a dog, rutting her like a bitch in heat. The rhythmic sound of the shifting wood creaked through the tent, and she could feel her legs straining as he pummeled her body with his cock.

“How do you like that big dick in your cunt slut?” The soldier grabbed for Uthielle’s hair and tugged her head back hard. She wanted to protest, to beg him, to command her soldier to stop, but right now, she was not his general… just his whore. All she could do was scream in helpless rage from the vicious tugging on her scalp, screaming in fury as he kept pumping his cock deep in her pussy, driving down with all his weight on her ass until it felt like her hips would dislocate with the force.

Uthielle didn’t know how long the huge soldier fucked her for. Her legs cramped as he pounded into her over and over again, plunging his cock deep in her pussy with each violent thrust. He finally let go of her hair just before she felt his prick exploded in her snatch, flooding her sex with his hot, thick cum. Uthielle could feel the seed pumping into her body as his dick jerked inside of her, shooting cum deep into her belly as rested her head back down on the bed in utter degradation and shame.


Alassiel was shocked. She took several steps backward, staggering away from the woman, giving herself room. The only way Grace could be gained was through worship of a god or goddess, as a priest of theirs… and there was only one god should could have committed to the worship of. “Elide, what have you done?” she whispered softly into the silence. The woman couldn’t have possibly heard her, but Alassiel didn’t need an answer. She already knew. The borrowed strength, the speed, the Grace… she was a worshiper of the mad god Lahk now.

“This will not end that easily, that quickly,” Uthielle promised with an evil smile.

As if to disprove her own claim, she leaped ahead furiously, sword leading. Alassiel’s hands worked in a blur, her sword hitting the deftly angled weapon upward, working it to the side, keeping Uthielle from flattening the druid’s back against the wall. Again the priestess elf pressed the attack, and again Alassiel worked through the proper, perfectly balanced defense that she had learned decades before practiced to perfection… though at more than three times the speed she had ever needed to use it before. It was sufficient. Uthielle, master swordswoman that she was, was getting nowhere near to hitting her.

Uthielle went into a spin then, slashing her sword across low, where the druid’s larger weapon was weakest, most cumbersome. It forced her back to a narrower position on the gap in the wall. Their blades connected time and time again, swords flowing up and down. Blades connected repeatedly with each turn of the steel, sometimes lighting sparks in the dark cave, metal screeching, green and blue flashes of power mixing in an indistinct blur.

Alassiel moved right by Uthielle, and the priestess reversed her spinning assault suddenly, turning it into a body check designed the drive her sword into the druid’s chest. Alassiel barely saw the shift in time and came to a stop, blade held out vertical to block the reversed cut of the shining sword, pushing the dark haired elf into the same, restricted position she herself had been in moments earlier… but she payed the price for her slow reaction.

The woman’s dragon-infused sword creased across the druid’s belly, barely grazing it with its tip… but working its magic just the same. The sword worked its enchantment the way it always had, shredding the protective magic and banishing it away. The stoneskin spell that protected the druid collapsed, falling away and leaving her vulnerable in that small area.

Each of the combatants took a moment to consider, each realizing the advantages they had just traded. A weakness had been created in the spell that made Alassiel armored, and Uthielle had in turned been forced into a corner, her mobility kept in check. Alassiel’s disadvantage, however, would take time and focus on the magic to repair… and in order erase her own vulnerability, all the dark haired priestess needed to do was fight her way out of the corner… something she wasted no time in attempting to do.

Her lunge was checked by Menelrûth, forcing her back, not allowing her to slide the side as their blades resumed their deadly, mesmerizing dance, the interweaving of colors as the Fury of the Skies and the dragonic blade passed over one another, shining in the golden glow of Alassiel’s eyes. The scrape of blades became a symphony, a myriad of notes playing music to their dance. The traitor elf came in low and hard, sword darting, climbing with each strike as Uthielle gradually straightened her stance, taking a full measure of Alassiel’s defenses from a variety of cunning angles as she attempted to escape the captivity of the wall. Uthielle settled herself into a parrying rhythm, then broke the melody with a vicious stab forward.

The dark priestess howled in glee, thinking for a moment that her blade had slipped through. It had made it past Menelrûth’s blade, but the druid had caught it firmly on the crosspiece, intercepting it clearly, catching the silver sword and holding it barely an inch from Alassiel’s side. The woman grimaced and stubbornly tried to push on as she came to understand the truth, how completely it had been parried.

Alassiel’s expression was cold, frozen in determination, and the dangerous dragon sword did not move. A twist of the druid’s wrist sent both blades flying wide. Uthielle was wise enough to push off and break the clench, to circle back the only direction she could, back into the corner, and and wait for the next opportunity to present itself. She knew she had almost had the damned druid there, and only a slight improvement might next time lead to her bleeding on the floor.

Uthielle knew that Lahk would want Alassiel alive, but at the moment, that no longer seemed important. In her heart, the priestess blamed the Archdruid, blamed her for everything — if only she hadn’t been so stubborn, so weak, so foolish, none of this would have happened. She, Elide, would have been queen, Lahk would never have found Caladwen, and her homeland would still exist… and she would not be Uthielle. She was to blame for everything, she more than anything in the world, she wanted the elf dead. Dead, on the ground, bleeding and forgotten. In the wake of his victory here, Lord Lahk would be forgiving, eventually. And the druid would still be dead long after Uthielle would have recovered from the whipping.

Again they pressed at each other. Each strike was perfectly aimed, and each parry intercepted the attacking blade perfectly, yet neither Alassiel nor Uthielle could strike the other, locked through their staring eyes, never blinking… not when the breeze of Alassiel’s high slice moved the hair atop the assassin’s head, not when Uthielle’s sword thrust came to a parried stop a hairs breadth from the druid’s eye. Alassiel felt the momentum of their movements building, felt the give and take of the battle corning faster and faster as both of them called on their magic for more strength and speed, strike and parry. Uthielle, as consumed by the fight as the druid was, paced her stroke for stroke.

Menelrûth chopped in, to be predictably parried by Uthielle’s sword. It wouldn’t be that easy for the elf priestess this time, though. Alassiel retracted and struck again, and again, repeatedly, willingly slamming her blade against Uthielle’s already poised weapon. The bastard sword was far heavier than the priestess’s blade, and it hammered her down, one strike at a time. Alassiel’s flurry of blows, sheer madness it seemed, kept the dark maned elf back on her heels.

Uthielle had not expected so daring a tactic. If the priestess could get her blade free for even a moment, Alassiel would be vulnerable… but she could not. Mastery of the blade that the druid had never had during their past sparring sessions years ago kept her on pace, impossibly fast, her concentration perfect. Each attack just barely missed striking flesh, each defense in line at the last possible instant, deflecting it by as slim a margin as possible.

Then one of Menelrûth’s blows landed just slightly off center. Alassiel’s strike slide just to the side as it was parried and pushed short as Uthielle shifted her foot and fell back a step. The woman’s offhand, not holding a blade, shot forward, a primal scream of victory escaping the elf’s throat as her fist smashed across the druid’s face, empowered by all the strength the worship of Lahk could grant her. Alassiel staggered backward under the blow, barely bringing back her sword in time to deflect a sinister stab from the dragon blade, and just like that, Uthielle had escaped the corner.


Uthielle’s hips ached as she felt the soldier pull his dick from her pussy. She felt ill at the sensation of his cock twitching in her snatch, his sperm squirming in her belly. It wasn’t even the the fact that she was being raped, either… as much as she hated it, she had grown used to it, realized she deserved it in penance for her earlier crimes. It was the lowness of her abusers, their worthlessness. They would likely die in the next battle, or the one after that, and no one would know them to mourn them. This was a gift being given to no one.

Somewhere in her head, Uthielle had begun to think again that she was special, that she was worth something. That presumption was being cruelly raped out of her now.

“So,” the soldier said casually as he stepped back from her, a trickle of white slime seeping from her ravaged hole, “who’s up next boys?”

To her utter disgust, she felt another body up behind her. Her pussy clamped down involuntarily on the invading cock as it plunged into her snatch. “Ugh! Ugh… Lahk…” Uthielle grunted out as the new rapist started pounding into her with his shaft, she could hear the loud creaking of the wooden frame as the man bunny fucked her as hard as he could, slamming into her like this was the last fuck of his life… and who knew, perhaps it would be.

Uthielle wailed gave a pained gasp as she felt her nipples pinched tight between the fingers of the man. The cruel abuse of her breasts only added further indignity to her horrible rape as he pumped his cock in her belly. She squealed as he twisted her erect buds violently, almost as if he was trying to tear them off her chest, and her hips ached at the force of his fucking. The bed was slightly lifted off the ground with each thrust, banging against the ground as he drove her forward brutally, pounding his cock deep into her body.

She could feel his prick grow in her pussy as he was about to cum, and she again felt sick. Uthielle felt the hot load shoot in her sex, filling her snatch, flooding her pussy with more sperm. “YES!” the soldier howled as the man pumped her gash full of hot cum while he viciously yanked on her sore nipples, roaring in pride at his conquest of her body.

Uthielle’s head collapsed into the mattress, her hair was stuck to her face by tears she hadn’t realized she’d bee crying, tears of complete humiliation and degredation. Another man approached her from behind as the last one left, mounted her, and started to rape her pussy. Already her body was starting to go numb from the ordeal, her labia were swollen and raw and she tried to ignore the feel of the long, thick, cocks plunging into her body like a set of hammers. The elf priestess had never been as humiliated as she was when she heard the soldiers around her yell out in exaltation again after another man drained his load in her pussy.

“Who wants to be the first to fuck the bitch’s ass?” Uthielle had been sure it was coming, almost for sure, but she still shuddered in anticipation of the new degradation. She felt the hands on her ass as the men bumped and banged into her, fighting for the right to take her next in new, more horrible ways. Her head hung in shame as she felt their grubby fingernails scraping at her pristine body and flesh pressing against her ass.

Uthielle couldn’t help but give a little scream of despair as she felt a thick cock pressing hard against her sphincter. The massive dick spread her anal ring and inched into her ass. “Oh by Lahk, nooo!” Uthielle yelled, flinging her head back. Her god didn’t take her in her ass anymore, not since she had proved loyal, not since she had sworn herself to him. Caleb had, of course, but only once… enough that she had prayed it was a torment that was behind her. Now she knew better. The cock behind her was too large for a human, it clearly belonged to an incubus… It felt like she was being ripped in two as the monster behind her slowly pushed his enormous prick up her ass.

Uthielle felt the heavy hand of the demon raping her slap down on her skin. “Shut up elf slut, you know this is what you’re good for!” All she could hear was the sound of the men laughing and her own heart beating in her ears as more and more of the man’s dick squeezed into her burning ass. Uthielle felt the rapists balls start to slap against her he buried his dick deep in her body. “That’s it cunt,” the incubus said as he slapped his hands hard down on Uthielle’s body as he started to ride her, pumping his prick in and out of her ass like it was his sword, a brutal weapon.

Uthielle felt the tears running in torrents down over her chin as she felt the incubus raping her ass start to bellow that he was cumming. “Yeah, that’s it!” he yelled. “Feel it, miss high and mighty priestess! Take it right up your dirty little elf shithole!” Uthielle felt his hands grab hold of her hips and pull her ass back on his cock, burying his shaft deep in her rectum and finally exploding. He yelled like the demon he was as his prick throbbed and pulsed in Uthielle’s body, blasting massive amounts of sperm inside her petite elf frame, making her ass burn as the man pumped his raging, spasming dick in her ass, milking every last drop of his cum into her body.

Uthielle hadn’t realized that she had started to sob, but she was. The elf’s chest was tight as she felt the rapist’s prick pulled from her ass… she couldn’t even fathom how it had come to this, her going from being the general of Lahk’s glorious army to a comfort woman for the soldiers, without having done anything new wrong. She wasn’t even being punished… more than she usually was, anyway. Her dismay only grew as another man bellied up behind her and rammed his dick in her smoldering, aching hole. She didn’t think she could take it, even though this one belonged to a normal man, not another demon. She wanted to scream in rage and helpless defeat, but wasn’t sure if any sound escaped at all… she wanted to pass out or die, but she couldn’t as she felt yet another gushing load of cum flood her body.

On and on it went. Uthielle lost track of how many men used her, they continued to rape her pussy and ass one after another, switching holes from time to time and filling her with more and more cum. No matter how long or hard she was used there always seemed to be another cock waiting for a turn in one of her holes, and they just kept on using her. Uthielle could feel the sperm dripping out of her snatch, out of her rectum, running down over her inner thighs and pooling on the tent floor beneath the cot as it dripped off her skin but it didn’t seem to bother the men who raped her, they just continued to use her over and over again.


Liam’s mistake was obvious – Caleb’s not as much so. The incubus thought the prince to be unarmed. Liam had little time to pull the throwing dagger from his vest, but the rushing demon did not prove a difficult target. Caleb barely saw the glint of steel in the smoke-filled light of the battlefield and nearly tripped over himself as he sidestepped his charge. The dagger flew harmlessly through the air, but Liam’s other hand, fitted with a studded leather glove, delivered a hard punch to Caleb’s face. The incubus was not caught completely off guard and managed to sweep his blade across the prince’s side as he stumbled past his.

The cut was not too deep and neither fighter was hurt badly, but Liam now truly was unarmed. His spear lay on the ground in front of his, but he dare not take the time to pick it up with the incubus at his back. Instead, he dove to the ground as if to pick it up and then rolled quickly to the side.

Caleb was there in a second, and his sword sunk deep into the stone like it was a soft riverbed, cleaving through the ground where Liam had just been. Before he could pull the blade back out of the ground, Liam spun on his back and kicked out his foot at Caleb’s head. Caleb rolled with the blow, leaving the sword in the ground but managing to scrape his other weapon across Liam’s calf.

The prince’s steel tipped leather boots were not as soft as they had appeared, and Caleb had to shake the cobwebs from his head as he rose from the ground. As he did, he watched Liam pull his sword from the soft ground. Caleb rose slowly, as Liam made no immediate move to charge the dangerous man.

Both were panting hard, but it was Caleb who moved pressed the attack. Switching his offhand sword to his main hand, he swung down from high, right to left, pivoting to come back down diagonally across his body, then right to left low, and finally completing the hourglass cut by coming diagonally back up.

Liam hit the dagger twice during the routine, realizing the flurry was not meant to hit him, but to get his blade up high so Caleb could punch out with his right hand beneath it. He responded in kind, and they drove their fists against once another, stealing each of their already sporadic breath. As he stumbled backward, he swung his stolen weapon hard down across his body, fending off a charge. Caleb was caught off guard by the strength of the parry however, and his sword locked with the incubus’s attack and was ripped from his grasp.

No longer holding a weapon of his own, Liam managed to duck the thrust aimed at his head, but took a kick to his chest for the effort. Liam rolled with the blow, and his right foot landed on the forgotten spear. The weapon rolled under him, and he went down.

Liam felt his strength fading, and he knew he had to press the attack before Caleb could gather himself and come at him with everything he had. The demon charged, and the human set the spear, pulling out of the smoke around their feet, the point in line with his body just as the combatants collided. Caleb’s eyes widened, pulsing red as he was impaled on the spear tip, body sliding down the shaft.

“You should have walked away,” Liam said as he picked up the fallen sword, and brought it down on the beaten incubus.


“We’ve just got one more thing to do before we’re done, my priestess…”

The word’s caught Uthielle’s attention, brought her out of the daze she’d been in for so long. The thought that this could finally be over, that she could be released, was intoxicating, even if she didn’t know how she was supposed to lead her lord Lahk’s army after this.

“We’ve noticed that you like cum little elf… so we’re going to give it to you!” Uthielle felt fear in her gut as she tried to keep her head down, but she felt hands at her bindings, undoing them, freeing her from the cot. “Kneel,” a incubus’s voice came, and she obeyed, resting on her knees in the puddle of cum that had leaked from her cunt and ass after long use. She could see the soldiers around her, gathered eagerly in a crowd around her vulnerable form, all their long, hard cocks ready to abuse her more.

The soldier who had been speaking put his hand to his cock and started to stroke it. The incubus smacked it down on Uthielle’s forehead. “Look up at me, general…” Swallowing, the elf looked up and saw the huge mushroomed head of the soldier’s dick inches from her face. She could hear him start to pant as he rubbed his prick. “Tilt your head back, bitch!”

Uthielle closed her eyes just in time to avoid getting the thick load of sperm. The soldier groaned in pleasure as his cock exploded and burst on her face. An huge wad of the white slime fell across her closed eyelid, filling her eye socket and running across her cheek as the soldier continued to grunt in approval, milking every last drop of semen on Uthielle’s smooth, delicate skin.

“Now everyone else,” he instructed, and the other’s didn’t need more encouragement. Abruptly there was a veritable battle to get to Uthielle’s face, a dozen soldiers seeming to converge in on her in an orgy of stroking cocks. Soon the other soldiers were jerking off on Uthielle’s face and hair… some even gripped fistfuls of her black mane and used it to masturbate, stroking their cocks with it.

After only a few minutes Uthielle’s face was covered with a thick mask of sperm. The hot white goo covered her skin, it was streaked through her hair and ran in streams from her chin down over her chest. The sperm dribbled over her nipples and down over her belly, it ran in lines over her swollen and aching pussy and started to pool on the floor between her spread thighs. She kept her eyes and mouth clamped shut as load after load of sperm exploded on her face. She wanted to be sick as she felt all the sperm dripping off her face down over her body.

Uthielle still didn’t know many soldiers had used her… she didn’t know, and she no longer cared. She was just happy when it finally stopped.

“Now…” said the incubus again. “Open your eyes, slut. I want you to see how much of a mess you’ve made.” A

Uthielle didn’t even try to open her eyes, she just knelt there, covered in cum, her eyes glued shut by the slime. “I said open them, you cunt!” He roared, and she could feel the anger in the demon’s voice and she didn’t feel like testing him… left more pain await her. Reluctantly, she forced herself to push her eyes open.

Instantly her eyes started to burn as she opened her lids. The cum hung on her lashes and went into her eyes as she blinked them franticly. She couldn’t see anything, everything was a blur, the sperm working its way into her eyes despite her best efforts. This was pointless… there was nothing to be gained by her opening her eyes other than to make sure suffer more and everyone knew it, but he had no choice but to obey.

“Now thank us,” he said with a snarl.

As soon as she opened her mouth to speak the flood of seed ran over her lips and into her mouth. Her voice cracked as she unenthusiastically thanked the soldiers for fucking her and spewing their cum on her face, and they laughed and laughed…


Uthielle laughed, slow, low, and cruel. “You never could use a sword worth a damn,” she said. “I never understood what Sirae saw in you… weak, foolish, and useless.”

“That’s because,” the druid managed to gasp out between harsh breaths, “you never did learn what she was trying to teach you your entire life.”

Alassiel’s forward rhythm was shattered with the punch to her face, knocking her backward and allowing Uthielle to escape the narrow confines of the wall. Even with the strength of the earth running through her, nothing was more exhausting than combat, and her arms ached from the exertion of the fight; her momentum had played itself out. On came the snarling, dark haired priestess, sword thrusting as she drove Alassiel back and around. By the time the druid had regained her balance somewhat, her heels, not Uthielle’s, were squarely facing the narrow point of the wall.

“I am the better!” Uthielle proclaimed, and her ensuing attack almost proved her claim. Sword slashing and darting, she managed to kiss the blade across Alassiel’s thigh, shattering the protection there as well though it couldn’t find flesh. “I should have been queen… but you just couldn’t bow to your better, could you?”

Uthielle could have leaped back, could have reset her own balance and prepared to continue the fight from the advantage she had gained, but she sensed the kill, sensed she would never have a better opportunity to end the dance. her sword swung down with fury, and Alassiel seemed to barely bring Menelrûth up in time to defend, seemed to buckle under its weight, seemed to slip even farther over the cliff edge. Alassiel reached to her inner self, to the link with the earth, and called a flare of fire up from the rocks. The fury of the inferno couldn’t touch Uthielle, couldn’t burn her, but it did block the priestesses vision for a moment. Alassiel that instant of blindness to dive to the side in a roll, came up several feet along the wall… but so had Utheille, anticipating the move.

Uthielle’s sword slammed down, blocked by only the tip of Menelrûth and driving the heavy blade out of line. The priestess howled and jumped back, coming right back with a thrust. Alassiel could not stop it, Uthielle knew, her eyes going wide with fury and bloodlust as the moment of victory finally presented itself. The bastard sword was too long, too heavy… Alassiel couldn’t possibly get her remaining blade down and turned in line in time… she couldn’t stop it!

Alassiel, however, didn’t try to stop it. She collapsed backward, falling flat to the ground, putting her tattoos in contact with as much of the stone as she could. A lance of stone rose from the ground, pushing the dragon blade away as she rolled to the side, making it narrowly miss finding her flesh. Alassiel spun her prone body about, one foot kicking against the front of Uthielle’s ankle, the other hooking and slamming the priestess behind her knee. Only then did Uthielle realize that the druid’s entire weakness had been a ruse, that her overconfidence and blindness had defeated her.

She was slammed into the wall, forehead first, with all the force Alassiel could muster, with all the strength the earth could grant her. It might have shattered the skull of a normal being, but for the priestess, it stunned her. Her silver blade, her much loved weapon, fell uselessly from her limp fingers as she collapsed, and she fell to the ground beside Alassiel. The druid, however, came right back to her feet, resting Menelrûth against the fallen elf’s neck.

“End it…” she whispered between bloodied lips.

Slowly, Alassiel shook her head before removing the sword and kicking the woman across the temple instead, making her bright eyes fade and go dark as they closed.

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