Ephemeral - Chapter 10 - Insatiable

Chapter 10 - Insatiable

(Continued from Laerelia)

A slim, naked grey figure stood in the moonlight, his long, raven black hair swaying in a gentle breeze, brushing against his bared back. He stood with one leg propped up on a nearby rock, watching the silver-haired mage and her two captives disappear into the darkness of the crypt. As the silent creature listened, it could hear the mage invoke protective wards on the opening.

The figure moaned softly as a tongue darted into his anus and a feminine face from a second grey creature was buried between his soft and pliable ass-cheeks. The standing creature focused his will and his penis disappeared. A vagina formed from the smooth skin and grew moist with the actions of his partner's capable tongue. His skin grew pale and his body proportions changed, getting smaller. His facial features took on the appearance of the silver-haired mage that had just disappeared into the mountain crypt.

Her partner adopted the form of the purple haired mage who had been captured. The erstwhile grey creature, now a beautiful elf, reached down to her wet pussy that was aching to be touched. So she indulged it merrily. While she explored the inner recesses of the silver-haired elf's wet, fleshy cleft with her ever-morphing tongue, she explored her own inner recesses with her fingers. She willed them into various shapes to more adequately pleasure the soft folds of her hungry sex.

She smelled the sour sweat from the puckered muscle of her partner's backside as her nose rested firmly in it, her tongue growing long and thick, exploring the depths of a new, delectable, and soft cavern. The recipient of her wanton lust could no longer even stand as her slender form was wracked with orgasms and her knees buckled, forcing her down on them, face down, her rear up in the air, her treasures splayed wide for her sexual tormentor's delving.

The elf of the violet mane wasted no time in taking advantage, leaving off her oral adventuring. She grabbed the smarting maiden's hips and thrust her own pelvis toward the waiting slippery and puffy vulva, her prominent pubic bone pressing into the lips tightly. In uncontrolled ecstasy, she began to morph again, taking on the shape of the half-ogre she'd seen enthralled, carrying the helpless mage whose form she, the grey creature, now wore. A great pendulous penis grew out from her pelvis and into the unsuspecting vaginal canal of her rapt elven companion, spreading the tight muscles taught without warning.

Ariana's doppelganger howled in pain as her pelvis was impaled by the monstrous, warty, half-ogre cock. The one who formerly wore Laerelia's countenance jammed a large, wet, hairy thumb into the tiny ass while pounding her with the meaty torture device now growing from its crotch. What might have been blood seeped from a torn vaginal opening as delicate tissue tore under the pressure of the giant member.

The rape was savage, but the assaulted creature was not without defense. He morphed into the form of a wyvern and kicked the half-ogre off and onto the ground, stunning the other shapeshifter into his natural form just as the wyvern's tail was near to stinging the half-ogre's erect fleshstick. The thin, grey creature was naked, lying on her back, eyes wide in terror at the giant creature about to kill her.

"No!" She screamed, and held her hands up in supplication.

The wyvern morphed back into the creature with the silky, black hair and came to a halt in front of his fellow.

"Too often, you let your desires get the best of you, slave," he said, a wicked gleam in his black eyes.

The supplicating thing cast its eyes downward. "Yes, master. The energy here is so great. I could not help myself. I am yours to do with as you wish."

"Of course you are, you always are. And you would do well to better control yourself, my pet," he said, thinking back to the slaughter of the ill-fated lord in Morisham. "My patience grows weary of your outbursts."

The master morphed into the slim, pale grey form he normally wore, sharp pains reverberating through tissues reforming themselves after the lusty attack of his slave. His pet quickly lay supine on the hard ground, naked, expecting her master's wrath to come next.

To her surprise, and chagrin, her master turned, wordlessly, and walked toward the mountain side. She lifted her head and for a moment, she watched the delicate features of his back and the muscles of his bare ass move in the moonlight as he walked, the shadow of a penis between them calling to her eagerness.

She got slowly to her feet, brushing dirt off her rump and back. She flashed black eyes at her master's back, pained at the sudden indifference, but secure in knowing that two could play that game. Bound, she followed him toward the mountain, putting aside her feelings for another time.

The leather collar around her neck reminded her sharply of whom she belonged to and to whom she was indebted. She allowed herself the small consolation that at least she was still alive, more than could be said of the rest of her clan. Her master and his followers had killed them all, each and every member of her clan had succumbed to a death more violent than the previous. It was an act of mercy they said, for perceived crimes committed many ages ago.

She, herself had been held by four of the pale grey traitors while a long cock was forced down her throat, her head held at an angle to facilitate its unmitigated entry into her body. In and out it went unerringly in its purpose. She felt as if she were going to drown for lack of air and the horror and indignity of it all. Her legs were spread, each ankle held fast by the treacherous grasp of something that was once of her own people but which was unrecognizable to her.

Many things that she could not see were inserted into her and fire burst inside her womb while stars erupted in her eyes as the last of her air was used in her struggle. When her body went limp, one of the creatures had pulled his penis from her throat and a cleric of some dark god revived her, only to repeat the process again and again.

She was naked, lying in the mud, barely alive, in pain and bleeding from multiple wounds when the master had found her the following morning. Her short-cropped hair was filled with grey mud and her body was covered with it. He had seen her back rise and fall with her breath, and stopped to lift her chin with a toe.

She had opened her eyes, not sure what to expect and not entirely surprised when she saw a naked grey foot, attached to a naked grey leg, leading up to a naked grey male. His slightly aroused penis intruded between her and his face, but she could see that he was the one who had led the invasion of her clan's encampment. He then simply placed the collar she still wore around her neck and whispered into her ear, "you are mine."

She was the sole survivor of that horrid night and she lived every day with thoughts of revenge. Each day brought new, if failed, opportunities to avenge the ills done to her and her clan. She had but to bide her time. The insatiable hunger for sex inside her was her constant and only companion. It was a feeling unknown before the invasion and she felt a slave to it, but she knew there must be a way to use it to her advantage. She also knew that her master was also a slave to it, to some degree, and that gave her power.

"Yes, soon," she thought.

(Next: The Hunter)