The Envy of the Gods

Author's Note: This story includes reluctant/forced consent. If that's not your drift, don't continue scrolling. Otherwise, happy reading!

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'Now I know,' Drokir said softly, 'why they call the elves the envy of the Gods.' He stared at the shapely behind of an elf, obscured by a tight-fitting kirtle and the chemise lying underneath. He was biting his lower lip.

'Is...is someone there? Hello?' the elf said. Her voice sounded from the other side of the wooden fence, low and pleading. Half her body was there. The other half was here. She was stuck, and her delicate waist filled a circular hole in one of the planks. Her toes barely touched the ground.

'Hello?' she repeated. 'I need help!'

'Let me guess,' Drokir began, continuing to ogle the elf. 'Trying to flee the recent pogrom, you used some sort of shrinking magics to hop the fence and escape via the sewer system? Should've read up on the magics protecting the city's infrastructure. Or the...anti-magics? Non-magics--'

'Counter-magics,' she stopped his nonsensical rambling short, and her body started wriggling around. She must've been trying to squeeze her hips through the whole--a task doomed to fail, Drokir judged solemnly. Her hips were twice as broad as her waist. After realising the futility of her plan herself, she put the soles of her feet against the bottom of the plank and started pushing against them. Trying to go the other way, trying to back out.

'That won't work either.'

'Why not?' she said. 'I have more leverage this way.'

'You'll never manage to wring your shoulders though that itsy-bitsy hole,' Drokir said. 'Can't you, like...shrink just your legs? They're still outside the property line. The magics' point of origin's the fence, simplified speaking.'

'You don't know anything about magics, do you?' she ridiculed, clearly unaware of the age-old idiom that you shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you. 'I can't just shrink part of my body, idiot.' All the while, she carried on struggling against her restraints, flexing her calves, thighs, and buttocks, shimmying them up and down, thrusting them left and right. The kirtle fluttered around.

Absentmindedly, Drokir noticed the crotch of his rough-spun trousers tightening. He brushed a hand against it, inconspicuously stroking himself through the fabric as the elf put on a show for him. He didn't bother looking left and right, surveying the pavement for passers-by or other spectators. At this time of day, the alley was deserted. He was inclined to reach out, cop a feel, but restrained himself.

'I'm not an idiot,' he said, 'but a half-orc. Not an elf, either. Obviously, I don't know too much about magics and whatnot. I'm well aware of what those counter-magics do, though, because I work here.'

He was inclined to let his half-orcish nature take over. His temperamental side, the impulsive side that wouldn't let moral constraints dictate behaviour--but his human side had always been the one holding on to the reins.

Then she asked him to grab her.

'What?' he said, questioning his hearing. 'What do you want me to do?'

'Listen, idiot. I need to get out of here, fast. Instead of eyeing my ass--yes, I can literally feel your moronic stare penetrating my behind--grab on, hold tight, and pull with all your might. You're an orc. This should be no problem at all.'

'Half-orc.'

'Grab my hips, for god's sake!'

He stepped closer. His bulge had grown bigger. It almost poked her, but he halted with the distance of a finger's width. Her legs stopped moving, stopped scraping against the wood, and her ass stopped wiggling around.

'Get on it,' she said, her voice distinctly lower and less commanding. She must've felt his presence, the warmth of his body. 'And...be gentle. It won't be any use if you tear me in two.'

He smiled and lifted his hands. When he placed them on her, he realised that one of his palms was large enough to cover the entire width of her backside. He held onto her right below the waist, and the warmth of her slim body seeped into the tips of his rough, log-like fingers. Her skin was soft, and smooth. Like an ermine's coat.

'I'll pull now,' he warned.

'Do it.' Her voice quivered.

The moment he applied the teensiest amount of force, her body started squirming. She writhed left and right, fighting against the rough wooden edges of the hole scraping against her stomach, sides, and back, trying to slink and slither her way out like a worm.

'Stop!' she finally blared. 'You'll crush my ribcage, idiot! And turn me into a porcupine in the process! A million splinters are piercing me right now!'

The complaints were starting to get on his nerves. As were her shrill, piercing voice and the insults. He stopped pulling. But he didn't take his hands off.

'What's the plan now?' she said after a momentary silence. Now and again, her hips bucked softly, as though to shake him off. He took the non-verbal hint, but he didn't act on it.

'What do you mean "plan"? The first plan was to pull, the second is to push--though I wouldn't count on that to work--and an idiot like me can't come up with anything more complex.' With his thumbs, he felt the small of her back, caressing it in a circular motion. 'What about you, elf? Any ideas?'

'Stop...stop touching me!' she complained. 'And no, I don't, but you must get me out! You have to! Otherwise--'

'I don't have to do anything,' he said. 'The pogrom declared elves outside the law--no protection, no rights. Your standing's lower than a fat, old tomcat's.' With every round, his thumbs dug a little deeper toward her bottom.

'And that's why you have to-- Stop touching me, idiot! That's why you must help me,' she said, her hips bucking more fiercely. The sight reminded him of a horse trying to throw off its rider. 'If anyone else finds me, who knows what they'll do to me!'

They'd probably surrender you to the guards or slaughter you outright, he thought. He stepped a bit closer. His bulge hovered right above her rear. But not without having their fun with you, first, he thought. Even if I had my fun with you...I'd still have somewhat of a moral edge if I set you free afterwards.

'I could break the plank,' he muttered, 'and then lead you through the sewer system, so you don't get lost.'

'Break it? That sounds--'

'Don't worry. I'll put a wedge-shaped rock on top and hammer down, splitting the plank in the middle. I'm sure it'd work just fine, but...'

'But what? That sounds like a plan; do it! Set me free, and then I'll allow you to lead me through the sewers, so long as you manage to behave.'

Slowly but surely, his blood started boiling. 'What about payment?' he said. 'This isn't charity, and I could land in serious trouble, helping an elf and all. They didn't write up the pogrom so the elves could just up and leave the city peacefully. You need to make it worth my time, or I might just leave you here.'

'Payment? You're an orc. Being in my mere presence should be payment enough! Use it to learn how the greater races conduct themselves; you might learn quite a lot. Now, break--'

'I was thinking more along the lines of ducats or jewels, gemstones even.'

'I don't have any! I had to leave it all--'

'And if not that, then maybe...' he muttered, bending his knees a little so that his bulge touched her lower back '...I'm sure we could still come to an understanding, so long as you're willing.'

She stopped moving entirely, and he heard a sharp breath coming from the other side of the fence.

'Don't even think about it,' she hissed. 'I'll tear out your throat if you--!'

He didn't listen to her chatter. His attention was fixed on her kirtle, which he felt with his hands, gliding them further down across the linen. He then reached down, grabbed its hem, and furled it up, which was followed by another sharp intake from the other side.

'Listen,' he said, eyeing the white, silken chemise she wore underneath her kirtle. It wasn't fine-woven, not enough to be see-through, but it conveyed the shape of her ass well enough to stoke his lust further. 'The longer we dawdle, the higher the likelihood that someone will come by. They won't act more courteously and sure won't risk their neck to lead you out of the city.'

He took her silence for tacit agreement, already shedding his moral restraints as his lust reached a fever pitch. He grabbed her ass with both hands, kneading it and stretching the garment, ogling and hoping to see through the linen.

'Fine,' she finally said, exasperated. 'But if you don't keep your word, so help me--'

'Don't worry,' he answered, clasping the chemise in both hands and ripping a hole into it, right between her buttocks. 'My word is my bond. I'll ensure you leave this city hale and healthy.'

He clasped it again, further up, and tore, creating a gaping hole that reached from the small of her back down toward her thighs. She was naked underneath. He spotted a small mole above her right cheek, and her pubic hair was ashen. It surprised him; after all, he hadn't seen her hair yet.

He wanted to continue his unabashed groping, feeling smooth skin beneath his rough hands, squeezing her soft flesh, and watching the spots where he'd lay his fingers turn hot and red. But he didn't have all the time in the world. He unlaced the cord fastening his trousers and pulled them down. They fell to his ankles, and he again stooped with his knees, adjusting his position.

Now erect and unrestrained, his cock reached further than before, and he heard yet another sharp breath when it touched her all the way up to the mole, lying blankly on her beautiful backside. His palm measured her backside's width. His cock measured one-third.

'Wait!' she yelped. 'I forgot that you're an orc! That's--that changes things! I don't think I can take--'

'Firstly, I'm a half-orc. You keep forgetting,' he said flatly. 'And secondly, my word is my bond, and I hope the same goes for you.'

He spit into his hand, thrust it between her thighs, and rubbed it against her pussy. The sheer warmth surprised him, like touching a man's forehead during a raging fever.

The sheer wetness surprised him more. His spit was superfluous. He rubbed it in nonetheless, feeling her up as her legs dangled below and stiffened moans swept over from the other side. With a thick middle finger, he spread her lips and wedged them between his index and ring fingers, massaging her clit for a short while, enjoying the way her moaning changed in accordance.

She was in his grip.

When he started properly prodding her, gently trying to enter, to loosen her up before going all in, she squealed and started yapping about his being way too big, his ungodly girth, and that this would never work.

'Get off me, you godforsaken breeding bull! A slender elf's body is not made to receive such unsophisticated...brutish...dick!' She raised her feet, hammering her soles against his calves. 'Are...are those your legs? Feels like some pillar, or the trunk of a tree...'

After she'd finished, he continued where he left off. His finger, overcoming any resistance with a little bit of pressure, sunk deeper into her pussy, and the moans grew strained, then eased off.

'How small are the males of your race?' he said, fucking her with his finger and watching a slight tremble rock her reddened cheeks. 'This hole's made for a twig, nothing bigger.'

'Smaller members serve to...indicate developed minds. You'd realise that if...if you had the mind to comprehend...co--complex biological correlations!' Her voice waned now and again, and loud, longing sighs interspersed her speech. 'You--!'

'...idiot?' he finished for her, pulling out his moist finger and licking its length with his broad tongue. It tasted oddly sweet. He then bent his knees, lowered himself further, and adjusted his hips to position his erect cock between her thighs, touching and rubbing up against her pussy.

'Wait...' she stammered '...that wasn't your...just now?'

'No. And, who knows,' he said, moving his hips forward and back in an unencumbered motion, 'maybe you won't care for the complex biological correlations anymore, either, when you experience something bigger than a twig for once.'

Then, he grabbed his cock by the shaft and aligned its head with her pussy. Her lips parted to receive him as he moved his hips, and her entire body squirmed forward, wriggling as far into the hole as her hips allowed.

'Just...' she muttered, '...be gentle.'

Copious amounts of precum ran from his tip, mixing with her juices. His tip slid in without too much effort, followed by a sharp breathing routine from the elf and the same slowly-in-and-out routine he had employed with his middle finger earlier. To help her out, he spread her ass with his palms and continued to work his way forward, entering her inch by inch.

One by one, the strain left her moans, and she stopped pressing herself against the plank. The hole's circular, red imprint wrapped around her waist like a belt. After he'd managed to push two-thirds of his cock into her--still spreading her ashen-haired pussy and spotting not an iota of wiggle room--he settled into a slow rhythm, and noticed her hips bucking up against his.

His theory might have been proving; on the muscle/mind scala of biological correlations, this particular elven whore might've just been preferring the former.

He continued fucking her to intensifying moans, ogling her perfectly heart-shaped ass and hearing the occasional yip from the other side when he'd try his luck and dip a bit deeper.

'Good god,' she drawled, her fingernails scrapping against the wooden fence. The bare soles of her feet provided the leverage she'd been counting on earlier, stemmed against the plank, helping her thrust her ass out.

He didn't say anything, uttering a litany of grunts and groans as he fucked her as deep as he could, pushing her to her limits and listening to the resulting noises she made with pricked ears. It spurred him on. Increased his tempo. Infused him with the vigour to keep going a little longer.

He wasn't spreading her anymore, kneading instead, resigned to pleasuring only three-quarters of his cock with the elf. The picture of her, prepped up as though made for his use, feet dangling, ass propped, added even more gusto to his staccato rhythm.

Then, after a particularly loud squeal escaped her throat, he couldn't hold back anymore. He grabbed her by the hips and held her steady, ass tilted upwards, burying his cock to four-fifths, and feeling his shaft as well as her rear tense, and twitch, and tremble. With every motion, he spurted his hot semen into her elven womb. Staying locked and easing his grip only when he'd been drained of every drop.

'Fuck,' he finally said. 'I really get it now.'

'...get what...?' she stammered, her voice quivering and somewhat hoarse. '...what do you...?'

'I get why they call the elves the envy of the gods,' he explained, pulling out and watching his cum pouring out of her pussy the second his tip left her entrance.

'Now, let's get you out,' he said, giving her ass a final slap and smiling when a red imprint remained.