Meyone's Revenge

Standard disclaimer: All human characters involved in sexual activity are 18 years of age or older.

It was unthinkable to an elve of her status, yet she had done degrading things to save herself from Sarlaicha's tortures, whose warriors had lots of time to spend on her sore body, chained to a wall near the edge of the fortress in a store room piled with debris. Meyone rubbed a particularly studded orc to orgasm, and he exploded with a low guttural, "Urrah!"

Since her capture by them, the orcs had used her orally and anally--yet none touched her vale--and given her only a hunk of crusty bread, some stale orc wine (horrid tasting by elvish standard, but she'd swallowed worse things), and a ratty blanket to lay on. She wished she was home with her family and people. She turned over as the greenskin finished on her back, painting it white, as she pictured strangling that honorless, green bitch and pissing on her corpse, stripped of weapon and clothing.

She had only her mind and words as weapons, and those weren't taken. Never again would she be degraded by such lowly green thugs. The guards always used her before making their rounds. Tonight was a busy one. Meyone had one chance, and she would either escape or be freed from mortal pain.

= = = = =

Shovon had just finished lacing up her bra as the door opened and her protégé, Esmera, walked in. A pretty girl, Esmera had auburn hair and a tanned body, currently straining against her revealingly tight violet dress, her outfit completed with matching knee high stockings. She joined the academy sorceress in training to master the 3 arts of magic: spells, potions and

telemorpathy

. The first master she'd been with had...problems keeping Esmera's carefree minded behavior in check, the final violation being she'd cast a hex that made her aroused every time she mounted a broom. Only having removed it with the Grand Mages threatening to expel and strip her of her magical abilities, she'd been learning from Shovon since she was ransomed from...that.

And with patience Esmera had passed her spell casting trial and gotten a nearly perfect score on potions. But before she could become a full witch she must find a being mentally to visit and leave an imprint on them to allow magic to spread throughout the land. "Master Shovon, can we practice mind syncing now?" Esmera said, eyeing her master's impressive breasts.

Sitting down in a chair after pulling on her black and silver skirt and corset, Shovon replied, "Yes. Focus on an object and repeat after me..." Shovon opened the book and began to read aloud to Esmera's annoyance, "Spa nunum cestori va mar vuda."

The seer crystal at that moment shot bright red from under its cover, and before Shovon could put down the book her trainee had rushed to the pedestal stone and uncovered it. Red mist circled inside, waiting to be answered, and having observed her master use it, tapped the right spot and it glowed white. A face, Mage Myrtal Starvale, boomed loudly, "

We require Shovon to travel to the Inquiry Tower in

Bethenalt

seeing as you have no prior arrangements, you will need a broom.

" Shovon gave her a look, and Esmera grinned widely.

The flight room had all the academy's flying and travel items stocked: brooms enchanted by powerful flying incantations, spell launchers, and trainee flyers for beginners. Esmera danced through the hallway as Shovon walked calmly in, passing Flying Instructor Velma Cranolf and her initiates Meyva, Dalya and Morgan, each carrying a new Phoenix Hurron broom, the best in the land. Esmera placed 30th in her class of 34 flyers and scoffed at those who talked down at her for it. Shovon deeply nodded in respect and Velma returned it, her trainees did also, but Esmera didn't and gave a rude bodily gesture. Gawfing at the indignant response Dalya snorted, "You half Goblin wretch, where are your manners?"

She scowled and retorted, "Left 'em in my dorm, should've left your fancy fuck stick back there too, rich girl!"

Shovon sighed and broke into the tense standoff, "Esmera, mind your tongue, and tone."

The other girls were shocked and silent, but Cranolf had seen too often this behavior and said, "Shovon, if you would teach your student some etiquette instead of letting her roam around the corridors during the day, maybe she'd be a little nicer."

Shovon looked at Dalya and then Esmera and said to Cranolf, "If you think I'm incapable of teaching troublemakers, I'd love to see you try it."

In a huff she left, but unbeknownst to her Morgan had withdrawn her wand and mouthed a jinx....

= = = = =

The biggest orc released Meyone from her chains and dry humped her till she clawed the floor in agony, giving her orc broth down her throat as recompense.

Sarlaicha came in wearing her stolen elve helm, crudely modified with purple and red coloring, and where spread gold wings had been, clamped on black obsidian horns replaced them. She carried a carved stone phallus, walked over to Meyone and inserting it into her belt, face-banged the wanton slut while moaning to her rhythmic spasms. Sarlaicha then grabbed her face and licked her forehead, nose and ears clean. When she was finished Sarlaicha said, "I'll be back tomorrow slut. Wait for me then."

Meyone lay silent as the green harlot clicked on her chains again. Meyone's blue eyes suddenly widened and stared as her captor drew a knife and sheared off her ponytail, sticking it in her belt, and cried as her blond locks were taken from her scalp. A pile of hair lay at her dirty feet. Left with a strip cut from front to back she swore in her mind to gut this vile bitch. As she was leaving, Sarlaicha extinguished the torch and closed the door, leaving Meyone in darkness.

= = = = =

In the night sky Shovon straddled the thin, wood pole with urgency as her protégé hugged her waist. Flying away over farms and villages in

Manerhein

and

Grenwald

to the Inquiry Tower of Magic, Esmera said, "Master, I'm sorry about that outburst...really I am. High born girls with their curled hair and castles and family fortunes, look down their noses at simple folk like me."

Shovon replied, "You've nothing be sorry about, except your use of swear words. Where did I go wrong about..." She trailed off as Esmera had moved her hands up to lightly massage her breasts. "What...what are you doing, Esmera..."

The younger girl wordlessly stroked each breast with gentle hands, then leaned up over Shovon's shoulder and licked her ear...watching as a hundred lights from the ground got closer and closer. In the same moment that Shovon felt Esmera's hand in her tights, rubbing her vulva, the protégé glanced down just in time to see a flaming arrow pluck her pointy hat off, and yelled, "Turn away, Shovon!"

The master's voice rattled and she dipped down, throwing Esmera off balance, tearing her tights, and in the midst of casting a floating spell, an arrow struck Esmera in the arm, causing her to drop her wand and fall off into the dark.

Esmera screamed, falling. With her wand gone most of her power was, too, and with the tree covered land getting bigger with each passing second, she thought,

I don't want it to end, not like this. Oh Goddess, save me!

An image of her broom training came to mind and what she did to make an emergency landing...falling fast she flipped around feet first, and took a clasp off her cape billowing out, stopping her freefall and floating her to the tree top.

"Ughh, dammit!" she exclaimed. Catching a branch, she hung on. She watched as the fired broom carried her master off into the night...the glimmer of light becoming fainter.

"She had to have survived," Esmera thought aloud as she climbed into the thick leaves. And off farther she saw torch light and heard the tromping of feet, too many to count. Without her wand she wouldn't dare challenge them.

The sound of those heavy feet came closer and closer...down below her the swampy clearing soon filled with tall, moon colored figures talking in hushed tones. Esmera deftly lowered herself to a branch farther down and she listened.

"The flying one's crashed."

"Raka's party haven't found it yet."

In between sentences she glanced at the torch lit figures... Faces pale and painted, with black eyes, no clothing. Then one turned to speak and she saw its pointed ear with a feather pierced at the top. Elves. Though surely not High Elves, they coveted fine jewellery and clothes. These wore neither. Anyhow, they carried spears and animal hide shields. Definitely not friendly, they talked in high pitched voices, yet she strained to make out details. Then most of them left and one stayed. Waiting perhaps for a friend, it walked under her tree, leaned its spear against the trunk and squatted down, taking a piss no doubt.

Esmera positioned herself quietly, as elves have above normal hearing, got ready, and when the moment was right she jumped... "Splash!" The girl landed directly on the unaware victim's head, knocked it down and landed herself in the mud. Quickly recovering and grabbing the stunned elve, Esmera forced it under the murk. Panic set in as the elve struggled to raise itself, thrashing and kicking. It took all Esmera's might to hold it down. The bubbles rose in a flurry, then gradually diminished... less... and less... then none.

Exhausted but undaunted, the girl turned over the limp body and was shocked... Its washed, undirtied form beautiful: a slender face, angular chest, breasts shaped like teardrops, arms and legs interwoven with vines and moss. A beauty. With regret, Esmera took the spear from the nearby trunk and pierced the elve in the heart.

= = = = =

With her wand in duelling stance Shovon shot spell after spell, blocking and redirecting the spears and arrows sent at her from the bushes, the broom's dying flame at her back illuminating her in a red silhouette. When 3 charged her simultaneously, one threw its dagger at her and ducked, expecting it's return, only to find it in the witch's hand, and a moment later dropped dead, a hole through its chest. The others closed in. One grabbed her wand hand, while the other struck at her head but missed and was decapitated. It's partner took the magical stick from her and face whipped her with the hilt of its dagger. Her glasses broke and she sank to her knees, taking advantage of the opportune position to chomp down on the remaining attacker's exposed cunt hard. It screamed in pain as she ripped away flesh and hair. Stunned and nearly blind, she reached in panic for her wand.

The circle around her grew. One clubbed her in the gut and bound her hands. Another threw a sack over her head, lifted her up, and carried her away into the night to the woots and war cries of the savages she was now at the mercy of.

= = = = =

Meyone's plan was cemented. She knew it would work, and bring revenge for her unjust degradation and imprisonment. On cue one of her regulars, Thrak, opened the door and thrust down his trousers. She aptly churned up salvia with her tongue in preparation for his thick meat. She spoke. "I've been working a technique, it's brand new," she enthusiastically informed.

"Huh, well that's nice," he said. Reaching for the chain keys, he unlocked her arms but not her legs, and set them out of reach. First mistake. Then Thrak rammed his veiny shaft into her mouth. She suckled it like never before and thrust her hands up and down his cock until she could see in his eyes he was close to launch. Stealthily Meyone reached around to the dirk on his belt and snaked it around to just behind his neck.

Thrak reared his head back and roared in triumph. Just then Meyone bit down and thrust the dirk up at the same time, severing his spinal cord, vocal cords, and member all at once. Dead standing up, his eyes rolled back into his head, his tongue lolled out, and his titan load blew past her onto the wall. She spit out the hunk and gave the lifeless orc a push... 'Thunk!'

Quickly Meyone used the dirk to snag the key ring, unlocked her ankle chains, and kicked debris on the dismembered orc's body. Taking his fur gaiters and leggings she slipped them on, leaving her nude from the waist up. She couldn't fix that.

Now to find the honorless bitch. She opened the wood door and looked up and down the stone hall way to find nothing. Use of her keen hearing and some stealth would prevail.

= = = = =

Esmera creeped along the ground with precision and finesse until she could make out a light...a campfire. She closed in and found 3 elves perched on logs and stumps, conversing and digging through some traveler's bag. "Those Orc scouts were fun. Now Queen's daughter, Magna, says a witch was brought down and captured by Zarma's Group."

The one whose feet rested on a rock by the flames spoke, "We get guard duty the night things get interesting. What did Taymoa say about those human slaves?"

The other grunted, "The one with a man part?"

"She told me she was traded for bronze weapons and wine."

"What a waste, a good feet cleaner she was."

"What about the little one?"

"Oh she's a gem, so broken she blew Magna's horse for a sip of water and still said thank you when she found it was piss."

Esmera covered her ears and looked away disgusted. Yet she was strangely aroused and she felt her garments moisten with lust.

In a second another elve riding a horse entered the fire light and dismounted. "You three are going to help me locate a stow away. It seems the witch we caught after much 'persuasion' revealed a second was with her, along with a fortune in potions it seems."

Esmera went cold as she knew they'd broken Shovon and would be looking like mad for her. She turned and snuck away toward the rising moon and safety.

= = = = =

Under normal circumstances Shovon would be able to talk her way out of this with mention of ransom or valuables. But these primal elves seemed to care not for mineral wealth, only the joys of the flesh and torture. Secretive and mysterious, few ever went into these woods, yet many talked tales of lost cities and awe of towering beasts in its boundaries. Still blinded with a sack on her head and being led by rope tied to her neck meant they wanted to keep it secret. Why not then cut her throat and throw her in a pond?

They wanted...no,

needed

her for something. The life of the magically capable was tenuous, threatened and sought after by everyone. They gathered among their own making a sanctuary for magic to grow and thrive. Witches, wizards and the like were a dying flame. Killed for imbued weapons and items, or forced into magical servitude for some scum lord for life...she had avoided it narrowly. But now that she'd given up her protégé, what was to become of her life...her student's life if she survived? Her feet bare, as her boots had been taken, felt the forest floor turn stony, mottled with mossy patches. The sound of rushing water meant a river or stream. A hand cupped the sack and pulled it from her face. All around were piles of loot: goblets, plates, cups, necklaces, earrings, bracelets, armor, swords, shields. Nearby ran a river in which swam elve children. Behind that houses on the ground and in the trees...so a village?

My eyes have seen an elve tribe village

, she thought. The knowledgeable part of her brain grasped the marvel, but the instinctual part knew to keep a clear head. Powerless save a spell conjured by wishing one's death and a potion she'd hidden where they wouldn't look, Shovon was brought into a big hut of earth and stone, topped with leaves and branches. She was kicked to the ground before a throne.

Sat in an orc skin sash sewn with a fur outline and a tiara of wood and beast teeth, a sour looking elve took a cup from a disheveled and wild haired slave. Shovon noticed her similarities...but couldn't pin it. Looking upon the walls made her sick: broomsticks, books and magical trinkets thought lost to time by the Academy were taken and decorated a savage's hut...the indignation! The sceptre she carried was topped with a glowing magical stone...

"What are you doing in our wood?" the elve's voice boomed, and Shovon failed holding the urge, knelt, and wet herself through her skirt. "Weakling, you refuse my question and spoil my floor with your fluid. Are you a child that you would be cowed so meekly by a question?"

= = = = =

Meyone had cut a finger off the dead orc and now with the black blood dripping into a bowl took a bit adding to it green dye. Revenge still gripped her. She ran the blend through her strip of hair and turned it charcoal black. Next, she took green dye and smeared it all over her face, neck, arms and chest, the smell given off wouldn't arouse suspicion if she stayed calm and imitated the orc.

Inside waited her prize. No guard. Foolish bitch, singing a harsh song about war and conquest, Meyone looked round the corner and crept through the partly open door, to her enemy in a stone bath, naked and unarmed. Meyone sprang forward. The bather sat up to scream, but Meyone's hand and dirk reached her throat before the sound escaped.

Looking into her eyes she saw terror and dread and savored it, the humiliation before an enemy, threatened with death for defiance. Meyone snickered, "Fool that you were, Sarlaicha, you broke our agreement and had me whipped and beaten by your minions. But now you find me with a blade at your throat and you naked and helpless. If you scream you die. I'll cut up your body and wear your armor. Easy enough to mimic your ugly voice."

Sarlaicha whimpered as she was dragged out of the tub to her dripping feet, and Meyone asked, "Where's your armor bitch?"

"In my trunk by the bed!" Sarlaicha replied.

Then Meyone said, "My what lovely hair you have," and she cut it all off in a pile on the bath step, then shoved her through the door into the adjoining ornate room with her elvish armor mounted on the wall. The helm lay on the stool by the bed. Sarlaicha wept and collapsed to the floor after Meyone kicked her and began putting on her garments, then bit the cork off a wine bottle and chugged it, finally put on the black chestplate, gauntlets, crotch guard, and her orcified helm.

Sarlaicha got to her knees and begged for her life, "Please, my sister was taken by high elves, your captivity was only until I could..." She sputtered the words as she reached up and felt her throat warm and wet. She looked at her hand and saw black goo. Her voice was gone, and her suddenly inflamed lungs screamed for air. She grabbed the side of the table for support and only succeeded in pulling off the dishes before stumbling towards Meyone, and with blood pouring from her mouth reached out.

Meyone ignored her as she sunk to the ground, hearing her enemy gurgle out a final breath, "Gaccg!" Sarlaicha finally laid down and was still. Meyone stepped over her corpse and put on her loin cloth and metal boots. Then she reached down, cut out Sarlaicha's tongue, and dumped her green ass in the trunk.

= = = = =

Esmera found a shiny gem. Picking it up she was ensnared by a vine. She tugged on it and got a jerk in response, and immediately thought,

Oh shit!

Before she could let go the vine wrapped around her arm and dragged her across the dirt towards a giant leafy mound. It sprung to life and whipped her up by the ankles.

"Please don't eat me!!" she shrieked, as it dangled her over its maw.

"Then what should I do with you?" it replied with a voice. "If I can't eat you then what good are you..." The animate vegetation paused noticing her upturned skirt, and began shifting its vine up her leg to her thigh.

"What do you like? I have magical ability. I'm sure you'd want something?"

This puzzled the plant until at length it said, "I'd like your virginity, and under garments."