Awoke from her nap with bleary eyes, her radiant red gems glistening as she blinked them slowly open and close, the realization of the sudden truncation of her slumber barely hitting her stupefied. Rising from the Grisco-branded twelve-hundred thread count sheets that she had been so graciously given to slumber upon, the Elf's supple body was revealed. Her azure tinted sea of locks, messily knotted and clinging to her sweat-slick frame in fistfuls from ravenous tossing and turning throughout the light nap. Whatever horrors or delights that strutted to and fro within the depths of the Elf's consciousness whilst getting a few hours of shut eye, were simply erratic upon the hair and flesh it seemed. Droplets of her perspiration running down from the scalp of her head to accumulate heavily upon the cleavage of her immense breasts. Nipples erect and prominently stabbing into the air, swaying with the small shifts that came with her rather unrefined and uneven breathes. Her nostrils flaring inwards like some drunkard attempting to imbibe alcohol from upon the air, whilst her exhales were a slow and steady blow outwards through half-agape and dried lips. The bed sheet piling itself upon the Elf's lap stopping just sort of revealing her nude lower-half bundled itself against her chiseled abdomen that looked as if it were carved from marble. Alabaster flesh hinting at no scars or wounds, just nothing more than muscular might accented by an unclean tuft of pubic hair that arced from her groin and continued well past her navel. The blackened jungle of hairs curling upon itself, whilst leaving more than a small amount of filthy residue upon the blanket which was minutiae if eyes were to drift just a quarter of an inch downward and see the monstrosity pitching a tent. A tent that easily could have had three elven whores stuffed underneath all eagerly lapping at the underside of the singular, ungodly shaft without so much of a ruffle upon the fabric it hoisted upwards, whilst  discoloring the sheets to a sickening, off-tinted yellow during her little foray with nightmares and ethereal hookers. Like a wet rag, it looked more slung upon the meat staff, sinking down heavily with it's 'water weight' of what was undoubtedly sweat and unfathomable amounts of pre-ejaculate. The heady stench having long overridden most aromas within her abode with it's potency. The toxic miasma radiating heatwaves off the globules of viscous tar-snot that clung to the sheet having long since permeated through wallpaper and work it's way through wooden doors, long tainted the promenade outside of her room - but to the Elf it frankly mattered not - her nose having long lost the ability to register her air dominating fuckmusk that made the sheer act of breathing akin to standing atop the nearest high-altitude mountain. What did matter, however was the burning desire within her gut that extended towards the behemoth of fuck meat still enshrouded by the sweat-rag of a sheet and tickled at her burgeoning semen refineries smashed upon the bed. Her witty thoughts and banters about her elongated fuckstick being scrubbed from her mind with the lack of lucidity that was gifted to her upon rising from slumber. Danalia **needed** to nut. **Needed** to finally have the cock snot that was staining not only the sheets that likely cost more than what most made as a Grisco employee in months, but down into the bedsprings of the mattress itself to corrosively eat at the metal within to **finally** be unleashed and unloaded until she could **finally** strut about without every vision of female curves making her veined length throb with the need for attention. So of course, there was only one solution, at least one filtering itself out from the wheat that was her half-abuzz mind. Still wrapping herself in sheets to have a modicum of modesty, she rose. Sloppy and lascivious splats of obscene yellow and murky, oily sweat following her footfalls as from the bed and brought herself out of her room with surprisingly steady steps. The damsel of an elf too lazy to do anything more than keep the rag of fluids pressed against her groin, allowing the majority of it to trail upon the wood below, leaving long streaks as floorboards with forced to endure the act of being scrubbed upon by the most foul of clothes. The audible dragging announcing her presence outside of the Dark Elven harlot's door, and it being rather flagrantly kicked in with the bare of the Alchemist's foot rudely interrupting whatever the high-strung cum dumpster was doing. Reading a book, sitting down staring idly towards the nearest wall in mental illegibility - whatever it was it was being rudely bludgeoned to the side - and strut within her domain. Tossing the blanket that was now simply a repository for her potent stenches to the floor in the midst of the room, revealing her crimson, cunt-shattering cock to the air as it swung upwards in freedom and **smashed** into the Elfs own immense teats. The thigh-thick cuntwrecker almost knowing that it was being put on display with the wrist-thick undervein pulsating vividly, a rancid quart-full of cock sludge gushing from the tip to run alongst the underbelly of the beast like some disgusting lubricant that was curdled and yellow, only accentuating every 'dip' and 'curve' of the gnarled mess of arteries that it clung to better than any glue. Every beat of the Elf's heart flaring the bestial length out a full half inch, engorging the finger-wide tendrils and roadways for blood outwards whilst the meat twitched and hardened. Jutting proudly out into the air as one of the Elf's hands planted itself upon the base as she walked to act as a counterweight to it's titanic swaying. Letting those immense semen factories below distend against her muscled thighs, allowing them to quake with every swift foot fall that only the most sensitive ears could pick up the audible sloshing of semen within. The Elf's other hand, coming abruptly upon her 'peer' suddenly, raking through the beautiful blonde locks that she had been admiring for days on end as the perfect rag for her rancid semen, and instead of scrubbing her equine length with the roots of her follicles, lips were to meet pre-leaking cockslit. Jaw forced to extend until nigh-breaking, and the world for the mocha-skinned fuck doll became **breathless**. Head impaled on the unruly shedick that had been ruling her thoughts for days on end in a moment. Tongue scalded with the flavor of unwashed cunt-juice from previous conquests and sticky pre-ejaculate, but even that seemed impotent and unimportant as her throat was made to bulge, fatty breasts compacted against enlarged nuts, and esophagus was distended and stretched against a cock she couldn't have thought up in her wildest dreams, physically assaulting her frame until it bent and stretched to it's necessities. The dominant dick-girl unrelenting with her first, forceful thrust into the maw that had blithered and blathered all this time instead of doing the work a womb-bearing swine should have been doing since day one, only halting when the midpoint of her shaft was firmly surrounded by supple lips - even the dazed homewrecker of an Alchemist knew far too well not to *break* her toys. At least not until she had came.

Another sleepless, laborious night of arduous and thankless work — well, aside from the royal coin anyhow. Nevertheless, such was the unexciting, uninteresting, and undemanding life of a royal alchemist funded by the Crown itself; well, while there was actual work to be done anyhow. The elfin researcher sat atop an exquisitely-carved tropical wood chair, finely stitched cushions pillowing her plush and ample rear from the strict rigidity of the frame below. The baroque center-table next to her, its feet curling in the shape of monolithic roses thanks to the whim of some inspired artist from a distant capitol, carried on its eerily exactly flat top a stack of leather-bound tomes, in which a treasure trove of alchemical knowledge and research references had been recorded precisely for a “bright mind” like her to use to aid the kingdom. To hell with that, she was just getting paid to fulfill her own goals anyhow — it wasn’t her problem if they decided to toss money at her so lavishly. She let out a soft, breathy sigh, kicking her slender legs in idle ennui as she scoured the volume open in her extended left hand for the answer to her current problem. Her well-maintained feet, ever polished and pedicured, were kept snug and clean by the slippers that her wealthy benefactor, Grisco — the premier trading company dealing with transoceanic arms, transportation, and retail, you can’t beat those prices legally! — had so kindly provided for her. Her long legs were fitted with tight and lacy black stockings, which travelled up those mile-long walkers up to her plump and meaty thighs, those rosy bands squeezing down on her flesh and held in place by an equally MILF-esque garter belt. Up those wide and full child-bearing hips and tight, well-kept, and chiseled abdomen, her fat and heavy tits were held up by a large E-cup, whose straps and wings also eagerly bit into her thick body. Towards the main dish of her corporeal dinner feast, her loins, her bush was neatly cut down and trimmed into a heart-shaped strip pointing directly to her cunt like some sort of natural tramp stamp. Yet this was obscured and hidden by a strip of partially see-through panties, lacy and elegant, yet salaciously risqué. Only her groin was in any way covered, the rest of her lower garments simply reduced to straps and a back-G string, which exposed every square inch of her glorious, thick ass. Her actual cunt, on the other hand, was completely open and exposed by her open-bottom panties. Split wide open where her most feminine bits were, they let any voyeur have a clear view of her juicy, dripping cunt that in this quiet hour at the island-side residence — courtesy of Grisco, the most generous company on the Fortune 500 — was clearly blighted by the arousal intrinsic to unfulfilled sluts like the scholarly drow. In fact, as she read she had one hand snaked down her midriff, past her groin and curled up, cupped over her needy core. Prodding fingers grazed and rubbed at her swollen, throbbing clit, some pulling far enough to rub at her entrance that so desperately needed to be rammed into by a thick, meaty cock unbefitting of a bachelorette such as her; well, at least while her libertine tendencies were kept concealed. Of course, she wasn’t so cocky as to seriously believe that it was fine for her to idly masturbate, to grind her juicy flower against her delicate and slim fingers while her hazy mind skimmed through thick paragraphs of hard, cold theorem. Over the rest of her body an Eastern-style robe was draped, hiding away her body easily should some heartless interloper interrupt her — though of course, she wouldn’t mind so much if she had a cock to go with that interruption. Unless of course… She sighed at the thought of her companion, somehow also personally recruited by the Princess of the Kingdom herself. After a personal session with the shoddy herbalist, her royal highness gave a stellar recommendation of the azure elf and she was packed off along with Merope and a few other researchers onto the research facility and island side resort — all Grisco property, leased by the Crown — for intensive work. And what had Danalia been doing? She grit her teeth, partially vexed and partially jealous that she could so easily shirk her responsibilities for days of lying in bed, staining sheets with the cocktail of unidentifiable juices sliding down that gargantuan organ of hers, or crusading sexually against the native inhabitants and Grisco employees. The nerve of her! Why, there was no doubt that the only reason the Princess had recommended her was that their “private session” was nothing more than seven film reels’ worth of raunchy sex and womb-crushing procreation. It was irritating, yes, but at the same token highly arousing… Perhaps it would not be so bad for her to relax for once, partaking in some of the fuck-machine’s plays. Mmh… Her eyes fluttered shut, her body slowly leaning back into the soft embrace of the comfortable chair, allowing her to focus on her cunt-grinding. A hazy image of scandalous lovemaking, no, primal fucking floated into her mind’s eye, causing the dark elf to bite into her lower lip in need… That is, until her door was quite unceremoniously broken down by a heavy foot. She yelped out, eyes wide with shock, embarrassment and anger as the selfsame aforementioned peer barged her way into her private premises. Her emotions only blurred more as she eyed that heavy bulge — well, bulge would be an understatement for that tree trunk of a sexual organ — kept at bay by a stained and yellowed sheet. Books, notes and researched were tossed away like a sandcastle on a beachside, all her work that evening not lost but at the very least scattered upon the ground. Before she could even respond mentally or object, she felt the tip of her snake suddenly knock upon her lips like a battering ram quite forcefully demanding its way inside the castle that was her body. Her defenses had been stirred sufficiently, and she felt her eyes involuntarily roll back as the length grind over her tongue and slammed at the back of her mouth, leaving its bitter, salty, slimy, oily, disgusting, fermented, intoxicating, addicting… er, unique taste permanently imprinted in her memory. This was, after all, the first time she had even seen Danalia’s cock so close, never mind tasted it as it violated her. But this… was not so bad, after all. Her mind was torn by her desires, a succubus of emotions perching over her soul and pinning her down by her own plump ass, chaining her in desire and primal need. “Fuck,” she mewled, and Merope had no choice but to comply.
Her hands which initially reached up to fend for herself simply grabbed at her own tits, pulling her bra down so she could press her sensitive tits and plump tits together like a great cushion. She pushed it against Danalia’s orbs, rubbing against them so they could heat up and overwork, as if they weren’t already churning out enough rancid baby batter already. Her mouth opened wide, jaws slack and stretched only an immortal whore like she could manage. Her throat, however, was pleasantly tight, coiled about that cock like a desperate maiden wringing and milking a stubborn cow. Her golden eyes had turned into hazy slits, lashes flicking out like a baroque adornment as they tried to focus on Danalia, to no avail. She could hardly even bob her head, her breath so lost and taken from her that her efforts translated into a meek wiggle up and down the fair-skinned elf’s behemoth cunt-ravager. This was… a wholly different world of pleasure, though not one she was unacquainted with.

Crimson orbs stared down at the subtle changes that overtook the Alchemist after the long seconds of her cunt-wrecker slammed down into the depths of her royally dictated peer's throat. The graceless change from wide-eyed shocked to something far more subdued and hedonistic sending a throb of absolute pleasure down her meat spear that was only accentuated upon by the convulsions of the esophagus she was so haphazardly stretching to capacity with the half of her monstrous girth. Her red muscle of a tongue arching out of her mouth to saliva freely, drool dripping down the lust-driven womb destroyer's chin in heavy rivets that connected skull to her own heaving breasts. Those breathes that were once erratic were now shallow and swift, the palm of her hand that was upon the base of her cock, slithering down the entirety of that meaty length. Her fingers spread wide in a web to scrape off the semi-permanent layer of filth that constantly soaked into her meat, accumulating it between fingers and thumb as it curled and piled upon itself with all it's semi-transparent luster. Only stopping when the seal of cock and stretched-thin lips connected, did the elf shift her hand to 'palm' the glop, and simply smother the harlot's entire visage in the palpable liquid. Layering it over her nostrils and spectacles that were only just barely knocked askew. Clogging her sense of not only smell, but sight as well with her potency that was unmatched. The simple act alone, clearing out her sinuses like a swift taste of wasabi, only to bring the unpalatable fuck-musk drilling itself into her nostrils back a thousand fold. Breeding, fucking, raping. Gods, it was as if all the pheromones that were meant to be stuffed into sexualized tinctures of rampant procreation were simply all assaulting the brown-skinned whore's smell receptors at once, with it's uniquely feminine - elvish, even - hint. The mixture mind boggling to comprehend, even more so when the gravid length that it radiated from a foot and a half deep within throat - and only going deeper. That fuck-filth lathered palm digging into the roots of her blonde lengths, intentionally using the side of her scalp and those pretty pointed and brown ears of her's as a scrape for the fluid until it physically dripped off the side and drained into the drum of hearing, muffling one entire side of her head to all noise - only capable of comprehending the sound of fermenting and rancid cock sludge gurgling within - to rake upon her scalp until fingers were intertwined with the very strongest points of hair. Her hand far less marred by sludge, going for a space directly behind one of her ears. Twisting it within her palm as if it were nothing more than a convenient use handlebar, expressly designed for this singular purpose - which was with a wrench, sending throat-contorting inch after inch of her cock in  long seconds down the Dark Elf's gullet, until it protruded from her toned abdomen like an obscene bulge. Pressing out against the midpoint of her abs through her stomach that was coincidentally being pumped full of rancid, off-tint baby batter by the second. The heady warmth of her molten sludge feeling hotter than any lurid tea that left tongue burnt for days on end. Like a forge had been a light within her midriff, and no amount of dick churning within her depths was staunching it - only making certain it was amplified. Danalia's nails digging painfully into the blonde's scalp until nostrils compacted against pubes with a wet 'squelch', forehead colliding with the jungle of hairs almost immediately becoming soaked in the grimy strands unique brand of aroma and sweat. Wiry locks tickling at the skin that becoming laced and lined with streams and flecked off remnants of greasy body fluids with each strand that compacted against her flesh. Even her lips were not safe from the pubic hair of this 'divine' fuckbeast, lips stringy catching pubes within their sealed tight confines that could barely let saliva out, flossing between her teeth as her face was grinded back and forth upon the base. Making certain that her chin touched each thigh with every half circle her skull was dragged through. The unrepentant hedonist making certain to 'stretch' the warm and wet fuck sheathe she was going to be using by gyrating the rod subtly, back and forth. It literally helped zero, but the way it moved the half-immortal being's flesh within felt absolutely delightful upon the pre-nut pumping length. Her immense semen refineries finding a happy place upon the harlot's flesh - using the well offered and properly sacrificed E slut udders that were look obscene on a prostitute becoming frankly nothing more than a platter upon which those factories of spunk that could easily impregnate the infertile with it's virility set upon their task. Her ministrations and hand movements that indirectly influenced those monstrous nuts igniting a heat within that was worse and more severe than any sauna or hot spring. Almost blistering to the touch, it wouldn't be surprising in the slightest that the sheer potency of these nuts would be permanently branded into her flesh by gaining a few dozen less-than-subtle shades darker skin when all said was done with this monster. Danalia however, relented somewhat. Satiated that her cock had molded the throat and her bulging stomach to her liking, the Elf's grip relaxed. Hand laced within hair pulling scalp few inches from her groin so the other could plant palm flat against her filthy forehead. The oily sweat and strands of pubic hair giving a perceptible layer between one's flesh, and another - but it would do. Muscles flexed upon the forearms, and she was candidly wrenched backwards. Throatslime and semen that became trapped between esophagus lining and cock, wantonly geyser from lips and out nostrils as it was callously untapped. Pubic hair that had curled itself underneath her lips, twang out as it was pulled from groin, becoming - for the time - ensnared to the Dark Elf's body, glued to her through thick fluids and oil. The pressure differential between stomach and the outside that had built up as her brain was starved of all oxygen sending a torrential downpour of their mixture of fluids colliding not only with the harlot's own immense breasts that were still connected to those swaying baby-batter containers -- nigh over two feet away at this point -- by tendrils of viscous and barely translucent sweat, but it was forced out with such might from the single pull backwards - like a plunger almost - that it coagulated upon the floor below. Documents and ages old leather bound tomes sullied within moments. Pages that must have taken ages to translate and decipher from one alchemist's code to another, or another - ruined within moments of their lascivious endeavor. The Grisco-approved paper that in every corner was designated with a 'Grisco-Approved Waterproof!' utterly failing underneath the viscosity of their fluids coalescing upon the pages, whilst the more 'mundane' pages were simply destroyed. Ink running and diagrams becoming nothing more than smudges lost to time permanently.And Danalia, glancing down at the books and pages for a brief moment. Her flared out and red cock head latched behind the dark-skinned harlot's teeth, simply shrugged. She had better things to worry about - and thus hilted herself right back in with such might the chair the dark-skinned elf was found sitting upon rocked heavily backwards upon two legs. Merope, or rather what was being colloquially called  'throat-sheathe' within the slobber-laden dicked one's mind,  had little time nor capacity for worries such as 'balance', as her gray matter was slammed into the back of her skull from a sudden, and abrupt stop. The dominant having making certain that every inch of her shaft was taken in, all the way into the base once more, until she collided with those tangled pubic hairs once more. A hollow thud, resounding through the room of flesh-upon-flesh. The azure-tinted, sweaty elf making certain to 'thrust' into the whore's skull, sending those massive spunk laden nuts slamming into her chest like wrecking balls that only served to increase the pressure upon the dominant's shaft. However, Danalia was not one to give 'breaks' or, 'mercy' to others. Instead of the long seconds that played out in the first brutal throat slam, hands placed themselves where they naturally should be, just like before - to wrench her back once again. Only to slam her right back down again. And again. And again. The inhibitions of an immortal being given the chance to fuck like one seeming to have tossed away what little worries and concerns she had for such things like 'safety' and 'concussions'. Rampantly beginning her animistic pursuit of pleasure that was the torso-fucking of her peer. The Princess was right. This Dark-elf was going to be a decent container for her cum.

To say that the researcher was caught off-guard by the azure dominant suddenly and quite literally palming her disgusting cock-grime — though to her addled brain, devoid of any real reasoning processes, it was quite a nectar, a soma of the divines, a small boon from the self-titled God of depravity and debauchery himself — onto her face as if it were suntan lotion. Of course, the first thought to the awakened whore inside Merope’s body was to grind her face against Danalia’s abdomen, to lavish in the wonderful texture and vapors of the ungodly mixture. Then, it hit her all at once—and by it, that is to say the overwhelming potency and strength of the thick, no, viscous dick milk that assaulted her rapidly-reconstructing facial cells like sulfuric acid. Not only did she have to contend with her sinuses being totally flooded with that intoxicating scent, the dark-elf harlot had to struggle to breathe as her so-called peer smeared and rubbed the gravy of god-knows-what cock-side accumulation into her nose and refrain from wincing as her eye was burned by the drops that had been so forcefully rammed into her sclera. It was entirely cathartic almost, to feel her figure which usually is held to such high standards of protection by the royal court be so violently accosted all for the sake of some cheap thrills and one-night pleasure — wait, one night? She didn’t even know how long Danalia had planned to rape her... But none of that mattered at the moment, and she simply directed her efforts at pleasuring her domme…Gods, her domme? It was a blessing she was drunk off of the cunt-ravager’s spunk, or she very well would have rather hung herself in shame at admitting pleasure, if not ecstasy at becoming her vapid, bimbo fuck-toy. She could feel her clean, shampooed crème hair suddenly turn incomprehensibly filthy, coated in the semen that glued those commanding fingers into her scalp. Then, panic. Absolute panic as she lost her hearing, her most cherished sense, in her side, causing her to almost hyperventilate on her domme’s cock, her whole body squirming and writhing as though Danalia had just slammed into her immortal skull with a sledgehammer.It took her ears being used to handle her throat like an onahole for the researcher to recover from her bout of abject mania, indulging instead at the sensation of the fat horsecock slamming into her throat again and again as if the shemale elf had to literally pound the concept of letting loose and pleasure into the prim and proper delegate. In either case, it was working. Her scalp, another facet of her delicate and soft skin was being dug into, and no thick layer of protective nut butter could protect her from those sinking claws, drawing blood and dripping the iron-rich life source down the side of her already smeared and dirty face. Tears accompanied her blood and sweat, a poignant trio that was a testament to how roughly her viscera were being reshaped by the force of the plough-motions. Even as she attempted to moan out in delight or some reciprocation, it was abruptly shattered into a choppy rhythm of ‘ach, ach, ach!” A pizzicato on a forgotten violin that expressed precisely the brutal rhythm of their fuck session. At the very least, she brought her delicate hands up in order to position herself closer onto Danalia’s cum-udders, sinking her fingers into those delightfully massive orbs that churned out far more semen than she could ever possibly. A massage motion, a forceful kneading — for she knew that no meagre lickings of a whelp or a litter-runt would do anything to bring the cretin near enough to her needs for pleasure. It was as if she was rolling her palms into a thick dough, desperately attempting to tame her orbs all the while being shuttled back and forth at the very last stretch of her cock, shutting down any ability of hers to focus on her task. Still, she was very adamant on attempting it… A shame that she was so suddenly wrenched away from her target and thrust back, a loud pop as grime and filth flung off of her visage like a high pressure hose.Though a small part of her that still clung to what little sanity still curled up in the far recesses of her warped mind screamed in agony as her work was absolutely ruined, nigh dissolved by the high-acid fluid that Danalia had wrought out from her horsecock, the far-gone cock-addict that now so desperately grinded her tits at her fuck-mate simply whimpered in glee, relief that the burdens of her work were lifted, chains snapped and left to naught but the pleasure of being used like the cheap whore she was reduced to. Page after countless page torn apart from their bindings, her labors and toils in ink: washed away, corroded, returned to dust. The reprieve granted to her by the azure elf was not wasted on Merope, using what little time she had to scrape at the grime covering her face.As much as she loved being smeared and marked with the produce of those monstrous orbs, she would have need of clearer senses to properly pleasure her fuck-mate. Of course, that didn’t matter for long.. She felt her lights spin as she was suddenly thrust back onto that impaling pike, her head rattling and her brain slamming into her cranium. It was ridiculously nauseous at first, but then an empty nothingness as the effects of the rapid blow began to make her reel from pain and numbness. She could feel the chair slam back onto the table before falling over, a loud crack. A splinter or two embedded themselves into her back, further drawing blood and adding to her list of injuries which already included brutalized innards and strained ribs. But the show had yet to begin even for her, as this time there was not even a moment of rest for her to adjust to the sudden stretching out of her throat.She could feel her head rattle as her throat was rammed into again and again—her small tryst earlier, her ears being used to drag her down the elfin alchemist’s cock nothing more than a skirmish. Not only her throat now, but her whole insides had become naught more than a massage-toy for her thick cock. And she relished in it. She could feel her ribs shattering, her lungs being flattened out and her muscles crying out in pure agony from the lack of oxygen being delivered to her extremities. Within a few minutes of this brutal treatment and already her face was purple, her fingers and toes turning colorless and pale. Her eyes rolled back, empty and cold as if she had been totally slaughtered. But still the flame of life inside her would not allow such quick reprieve from pain, and instead she could feel her soul slowly seep back into her dead cells and reanimate them, pain being the first of all sensations to flood back into her. Each slam and echoing smack into her face made her tremble, made her whole body rattle and shake, the life being shaken out of her. In a way, Danalia was literally fucking  Merope to death, and back to the world of the living. It was delightful, the way her loose throat tightened up each time her soul returned to life, as if just by being killed she was milking her cock. A new form of sex, even, one which Merope certainly had never experienced with many partners beforehand except one wolf who had fucked her spinal cord out of her back… But this was sufficient, and she couldn’t help but snake her slow, frazzled hand down her midriff and at her cunt which already dripped and salivated as if near-orgasm. Every instance in which she would come close to her climax, which did not take long from how roughly she was throttled and slammed into, was abruptly and instantly cut off by her premature death and reanimation. If she weren’t literally dripping from being raped to death, and literally being murdered in the room by her academic peer, it would be sort of comical to a viewer—but to her mind, it was nothing short of a height of pleasure that she was returned to after a long fall from grace.

A loud 'Ahn' broke out far overhead, barely even audible to the cock-grime encrusted ear drums that were still firmly enshrouded by filth-laden hands below. The azure tinted dominant having her rod pleasurably satiated for the first time in what must have been months. Her crimson hues staring down at the breaking face of the throat-sheathe below. Grip still biting into the back of her ears, nails slicing into the soft flesh with every drag downwards that sent her nostrils colliding with pelvis. The flexing muscles of the cock-wielder's never abating in their righteous task of using the entire frame of the dark elven whore as little more than a hedonistic onahole, a pleasure sleeve. A fuck doll to wank into - not treat with any sort of respect and delight, just ferocious and rampant abuse. Those glazed over golden eyes of the slime caked blonde, that only showed slimmers of sanity before being whisked away sending potent throbs of pure bliss through Danalia's cock meat that only seemed to grow more grotesque and thicker with every squelching hilt. Each nostril-burrowing slam strained the bridge of her nose further each time, stretching her jaw wider from the engorged meat expanding itself as blood flow amplified by magnitudes to keep the beast under restraint. Viscous globules of cock-sludge from the depths of those wrinkled and sweat-soaked nuts spewing wantonly in her stomach happily smoldering the protective lining and only aggravating the acidic solution within into a yellowed slurry of fuck filth. Ulcers being burnt into her stomach faster than her poor immortal frame could possibly handle them until what remained of a digestive organ was little more than a few strands of innards attempting desperately to keep itself thoroughly connected to the lower half of her tract, even as the sludgy tar began to sink between tissues and bloat her abdomen. Every slam of that bestial cunt-wrecker threatening to rip her muscled abs in twain, each thrust further increasing the protrusion of wanton cock head. Penetrating farther into the sheathe of skin and flesh. The rugged ridge flared out vigorously in a blatant outline by her mocha-skin before the drag upwards, the act of unsheathing caused the monstrous log of meat to disappear from view. The flattened head as it rode upwards through her stretching esophagus, compacting lungs against ribcage causing a multitude of fervent, immediately healed fractures upon her bone structure. The immortality she so desperate craved, keeping her in a constant loop of pain and depraved pleasure, and the dominant fucking adored it. The sickening crunch of bones shattering around her cock, an all too familiar - and addictive - feeling that she simply could never get enough of. Instead of her rampant throat-fucking 'picking up' pace, she slowed down her movements in spurts. Elongating the agonizing torture of having all oxygen deprived from her body, by keeping her cock firmly sheathed to the hilt within her whilst waiting. Making certain that her ribcage leveled out, contorted, curved and healed properly - before wrenching the harlot's skull backwards as one would pull upon a pair of anal beads. Pulling her entire cock out so swiftly that the cacophony of shattering ribs and lungs collapsing from bone lacerating sensitive flesh being exhaled from lips like a singular, final breath from the Scholar. The cunt-wrecker shivering in pure bliss, following the act by a just as brutal slam inwards. Her cock head askew upon the harlot's lips - instead of the 'smooth' penetration that only distended her jaw like all the rest - the slit pushed against her lower lip predominantly, and like a sledgehammer hitting it's mark Danalia simply caved her mouth in. Compressing teeth and tongue and sinew inwards with sanity destroying crunches and snaps of flesh that left blood and pulp cascading down what could barely be called a throat from being suddenly *split open at the front til collarbone*, until nothing more than a few jagged remnants of molars compressed themselves against underside base of the Elf's cock, biting into the skin that made the container of her taut semen factories. The pain was excruciating, but the 'body fucking' continued for who knows how long - Grisco so aptly giving the scholar a room without windows and only one door as she was forced into the blood and semen soaked remnants of table and chair upon her knees. Slicing through her supple leg flesh, caps becoming little more than pockmarked with finger wide protrusions of splintered wood. There was no respite now, no stops for breathe or anguished cries of pain to be freed from the skank's throat. Devious desires far from the light of God and Country taking hold of the pre-nut leaking sadist, shifts in weight and angle sent more bones shattering and shattering joints from their abodes. Her ribs and collar bone becoming little more than a weak, practically flexible carapace for those wanton semen tanks to slam into her immense udders like wrecking balls. Bruising and battering the supple massive orbs of meat until they were misshapen and dull, darkened bags of flabby flesh, giving way to blackened discoloration. Although these things were by far the least of the harlot's worries - if her oxygen starved, constantly dying brain could even comprehend such higher thoughts with what all that was annihilating her. Even the sweat and filth that soaked Danalia's clapping nuts that slender hands so obediently kneaded and groped upon burnt at digits and seared layers of skin away. Inflaming flesh, sending blood rocketing to the surfaces of each and every one of her digging appendages, before even that was staunched by the layers of slime eating away at her very being, until she died once more and regeneration took hold. It was perfect. The princess had finally sent something from on high to this devious Elf to finally blow her load properly into, and with the pace of her thrusts now beginning to give the dark-elven cock sheathe no more time than a few microseconds to stitch herself back together into a lucid humanoid figure from the neck down = instead of an uneven mass of broken bones and entrails bulging against skin as they were devoured from the inside by cocksnot - it was beyond clear that the 'domme' was finally reaching the end of her proverbial rope. Done playing with the sheathe, done shattering her nostrils upon pubic hair only to watch in glee as it righted itself into it's pristine cock-snorting state, now thumbs planted themselves upon those dully lit eyes. Stabbing into the orbs until fluid leaked from beneath lids to give herself a 'proper' handle upon the skull. Slams steady and rhythmic, eking out every inch of pleasure that she could from the slurry of flesh that was now the jizz-drain's throat, until rather suddenly pristine high-elf thighs clamped around head. Cock bulging wildly against it's casing, flared out tip inches peaking out from container's midriff before it bloated and engorged wildly like a balloon. Stretch marks spreading across her delicious mocha meat until she looked months pregnant within heartbeats. Her body not even capable of comprehending the sweltering molten cocksnot beginning to build up not *gallons* within her. The toxic sludge searing flesh and forcing more 'delicate' liquids to steam. Wafts and tendrils of smoke and vapor billowing out of whatever orifice they could find within her well-used body, before an vain squelch signaled something far more lurid below. The whore's stomach splitting at the navel down to her pubic hair heart-adorned cunt. The pressure of her disgustingly overly potent seed eating at everything within sight completely trivializing and destroying the last of what kept the Dark Elf a 'container' and not the cock-tunnel that it was now contorted into. Viscous and depraved semen that looked more like something pumped directly from the depths of the underworld itself streamed freely from her gut in a tsunami that coated her fatty thighs and flowed down upon the floor to coagulate and bubble violently. The cock slit itself that was pumping out entire jug fulls of the virile tar no longer even contained with the hedonist's flesh forcing its fluids out - not within her flesh - but upon the floor from the curving of the cock to 'accommodate' her body. The poor thing - could it even be called that much at this point - having been filled to the brim with corrosive spunk that was eating upon the floor and into her very flesh with every second that ticked by, and now relegated to nothing more than keeping the twitching length warm and satiated within, not even allowed to be graced by the gallons of macro-spawn swimmers that she had been gloriously used to milk out. Danalia indulgent in the knowledge that the spunk dumpster below would likely be devoured from the cunt down as the copious cocksnot completely obfuscated her frame tear-towards-ground. The orgasm wracking the Elf in spasms, her nails that once 'daintily' dug into ears simply twisting and pulling upon the elongated hearing devices as if to prevent her own body from thrashing in her blissful throes, tearing the skin wholesale from the back of her lobe until it hung limply off the side of her head - ear drum ruptured on one side and hollow ringing filling the other. The Elven mistress far and above, enjoying the minutes - was it hours? - of cum pumping that soon saw the shattered table and chair alike awash and disgustingly being devoured by her seed that so freely flowed and sank it's fangs upon anything nearby. The Elf's shaft barely even deflating, as she pushed the meat-sheathe off with an unceremonious squelch, and glanced down at the devastation of blood and cum she had wrought, that only served to make her semen refineries churn all the more. 

This little cunt was good. Shame she had to wait until she healed up to make proper use of her womb.