The Pleasure Of The Vochki Pt 01

Today had been good to Valeth, being one of the Voch'ki that occupied the crimson jungles of the Southlands. He had woken, surrounded by his family and lovers, finding himself already being carefully serviced by the tribe's shamans, her painted eyes watching his reaction amusedly as her long and clawed hand gently stroked away his morning glory. Once he had been sated, and enjoyed a more proactive role in that coupling, he'd had the human slaves get to work for him. These creatures, the few still not exposed to the root that would eventually turn them into thralls and make them more useful to him, had done most of his tasks for the day, as well as helping to reapply the grey warpaint over his scarlet skin (the cause of their human name "Red Elves"), running a comb through his long black hair as they braided it, working down the trail along his spine before finishing at his tail. He had amused himself greatly by flicking them with the end, watching their faces contort in moments of anger as the coarse hair hit them before realising their place. Red Elves might be seen by some as lazy, spindly creatures, but Valeth let his watchers know that his muscles were far denser than theirs, his reactions far faster and his teeth far sharper. Once they had finished (and he had grown bored of playing with them), he spent some of the morning preparing his equipment for a hunt, assembling arrows. Each was almost as tall as a human child, capable of splitting a tree in half with the right draw thanks to the treated crimson vines that formed the string combined with his own strength.

Later, he had amused himself by taking one of the latest batch of thralls for a session. He smiled at feeling their elongated tongue wrap itself around his shaft, their blank eyes, covered in sculpted and marked flesh, staring up at him attentively as he had his way with them, his hands wrapping around the freshly formed horns to pull them against his stomach. They had been human once, like the rest of the thralls that did the hard tasks for the Vo'kari, and Valeth idly tried to imagine what they had been before finding themselves here, lost in the embrace of the Crimson Inferno. Perhaps a farmer or simply a lost whore who ran away from a brothel on the outskirts of the continent... This thrall seemed to be taking a shine to him, hissing at another of their kind that approached before curling up closer to him during one of their breaks, Valeth's thin but strong body wiry yet also soft to their touch. So, Valeth considered it would be rude of him not to reward the thrall's interest as he was taking them from behind, sinking his fangs into their shoulder as he pulled them closer, marking them as his own as he pushed himself deeper, feeling his cock be softly clenched onto by their inner walls. It would probably annoy someone, another lesser Red Elf with ideas above their station who wanted the thrall for themself, but Valeth relished any chance to assert his superiority over a lesser member of the tribe. Besides, having a toy to use as he saw fit was worth the occasional annoyance from an upstart with an imagined slight.

Later, when the sun was at its highest, he'd watched from the tree branch platforms as the Dru'chii (or Dark Elves as the slaves whispered to each other) had come to claim some of his brothers and sisters for service to the Emparachon, the Overlord Above All. It always amused Valeth to think that they were descended from this serious and controlled creatures, that it was only thanks to the Crimson Root and its mutagenic vines that he lived this life of glorious idleness deep in the humid jungle. It was far better than being stuck in their home realm, warring among the noble houses amongst the towering spires before going on a cross-realm raid into somewhere else to pillage and enslave. Valeth had served his Emparachon two summers previously, although his main memory was of having to wear a heavy and scratchy coat just to keep warm while some of the smaller Dru'chii began barking orders at him he was duty-bound to obey. It hadn't been all bad - the long lost cousins of his people pretended to be uptight and respectable outwardly, but Valeth knew them to be as controlled by their passion as they accused his people to be. To amuse himself, he locked eyes with one of the warriors standing guard over the meeting below and slowly ran his long black tongue over his lips, daring the elves below to react. The Dark Elf's face was mostly behind their armour but Valeth could see how quickly their iris expanded, their gaze lowering to sweep up and down his exposed body before frantically looking away. From above, Valeth cackled to himself before heading off in search of something more interesting to do.

Up until this point, it had been a normal day in the land of the Voch'ki. But then, while hunting for deer on the edge of their territory, he'd spotted

her

.

A Nym'dhoine, one of those elves who found themselves unfortunately native to this world, wandering quite alone through the Red Wood. It had been simple for him to track her, her injured and aimless walking generating plenty of cracking and crunching that was easily able to cover his movement through the trees as he stalked her, following the scent of the sea that was deep inside her shredded clothes, as well as the iron tang of droplets of blood from the gashes across her skin. From the branches above, she had seemed quite pathetic, almost a betrayal of her Elven heritage to be so inept at moving quietly. It was too easy to get her on her back and bound and ready to return to the camp with, the deer carcass discarded for the thralls to fetch in favour of this greater prize. Even the act of taking her down had been enjoyable, her screams of surprise and foolish attempts to defend herself making it even more fun. He was quite proud of the way his tail had tripped her, the shriek of confusion especially sweet. There was part of him who wanted to play more with her, get a taste before she was set upon by the rest of the tribe. But, that was not the way. Anything hunted was shared, at least at first.

As he began to sleep, nestled up against the other family members in his group, he couldn't help but think of the pretty girl currently embraced by glowing red vines to the tree a few branches below, her pale skin exposed under the few remaining rags in the moonlight. Just the idea of it was too much for him, her beautiful form filling his mind. He couldn't stop the dreams coming once they started - him walking, slowly, over to her letting her see him in all his glory. He'd gently place his finger in her mouth to let her suckle, seeing her eyes filling with want, pleading with him to reward her, as he smiled down at the foolish Nym'dhoine that had wandered into their territory.

The dreams, raw and unfiltered and burning with desire, drifted up into the darkness of the Red Wood above. And the Red Wood answered...

"ԱԲԲԾԾՓրռ...

Yesssss

."

It

stirred, the red vines wrapped around the mighty tree coming to life and beginning to run down the tree trunk and across the floor towards the sleeping pile. Each vine, as if following an unspoken plan, threaded between sleeping bodies, gentle touches giving silent commands to the sleepers to move away from the prize, caring grazes helping them along. Soon, they began to touch the now isolated Valeth, to stroke and caress before digging under his skin as he softly exhaled with each intrusion, the end of each tendril slithering over muscle and bone like oversized veins. As they constricted, tightening around his slender elven form, piercing to almost the very core of his physical being, they began to whisper, a voice from deep in the darkness.

"ԱԲԲԾԾՓրռ...

Give.Yourself.To.Ussss

."

At first, Valeth just felt energised, as if his dream self was as infinitely powerful as he sometimes felt he deserved to be. But them, as he felt the vines cradle him, felt the magic clawing at his mind, he realised what was happening. The Crimson Root had picked him, chosen to use him directly, chosen to bless his body with all the power the Soul of the Vines could bestow on him in return for his service to it. For a moment, a flash of concern crossed his mind, the feeling of pure control slipping away. But, he could not deny it felt so good, so strong, every muscle in his body beginning to twitch and grow even at the smallest touch of the vines. He could even see in his mind's eye, plucked from his memory, other Voch'ki that had been so blessed, enhanced, made more powerful and beautiful than any others in exchange for giving themselves to The Crimson, if only for a little while. One of his current hunting and sleeping partners, a few places over, was far taller and stronger than their other kin who lay around her, all thanks to a touch of the Crimson. Coupling with her had been as exciting as his first time, the way her mass and strength had overpowered him. He'd had his revenge on her, using his speed and skill to get her beneath him, a thrill of victory combining with the physical sensation of pushing himself deep inside her as she moaned, her voice deepened by her larger frame so much that he felt it echo through the pair of them.

Valeth couldn't also help but think of their seemingly immortal King and Queen that controlled all of his kin. The few times he had found himself near to those impressive creature, linked so closely to the vines as they could become, was intimidating - the sheer speed and power almost terrifying with each movement of their limbs, their agility when hunting prey so otherworldly he had begun to understand how the humans felt when they were hunted. But also, they had been so sensual - especially when their eyes' had fallen on him, their commands bringing him to heel before feeling their strong powerful hands caress his body like he was nothing more than a child's doll. It brought a warmth to him, his pleasure pushing the vines onward.

Who was he to deny these desires, these passions?

"ԱԲԲԾԾՓրռ...

Gooood

."

The voice hissed, its sound almost wrapping around him.

As his resistance slipped away, letting the ancient spirit of the Crimson take him, he could feel the vines begin their process. The sharp tendrils forcing their way deeper under his skin, piercing muscle and sprouting into them until they began to wrap around his bones. He could feel them pulsing slightly, their motion almost encouraging the skeleton and flesh surrounding their intrusion to grow, stroking them to exhort them to become bigger, firmer, stronger. He could feel them, cracking and reforming, the gaps filled with the blessed vines before becoming more bone as his form stretched further. Above them, his muscles, already strong and toned from a lifetime of hunting and raiding and killing, began to expand, pushing him up from the ground and filling him with a greater sensation of strength and power, almost a euphoria comparable to feeling a life snuffed beneath him, or the frantic scrabbling of a lover's hands on his back.

He could feel himself growing all over, his skin stretching and expanding, even his tail beginning to thicken and sway across the floor, a bony ridge forcing itself through his pale painted outer surface to reveal the bright red skin beneath as it began to tear the surface of the floor way. It pushed the coarse hair out slightly further, making it look even wilder and untamed as it swayed with his movements. For a moment, the tip seemed to bulge slightly, before peeling slowly apart, revealing a scarlet tendril that swayed slightly as if tasting the air, it's attention flicking to those warm bodies around him. For a moment it stretched further before returning to it's sheathe, waiting for some unknown muscle to be flexed to control it.

A snarl rolled from deep inside Valeth as his bones suddenly cracked, his feet shifting position as his angle changed location. He could feel his feet becoming larger, his toes spreading as sharp black nails sliding out of their tips and his fingers, more of the ashen paint falling away to reveal the scarlet skin, dark lines of crimson showing how many of the vines threading their way through his being. At his brow, his horns began to extend further, breaking through more of the skin, pushing his pointed ears back further.

But the biggest change was beneath his loincloth - already Valeth could feel his cock expanding, flesh moving over flesh until it lifted the thin fabric away, letting it stand proud in the night air. It curved slightly back towards his muscled body, its head already glistening with a few strands of preparation before gently rubbing along the deep valley of abdominal muscles on his frame. Beneath his proud cock, he could feel his fruits beginning to churn, the seed inside becoming tainted and twisted by the power of the Crimson. They began to hang heavy and swell, the veins glowing slightly in the darkness.

Slowly, as the changes began to complete, Valeth opened his eyes, the irises aglow with some ancient power, gleaming in the darkness. His mind was suddenly full of thoughts, orders, suggestions, all of which appealed to the new instincts his changes had brought to him.

Grow... Control... Convert...

As these ideas dug deeper into his spirit, he began to focus more on their target, on the pretty little elf a few branches below, a lost elf unaware of what her lineage could let her become. As the thoughts told him what he must do, he began to smile, his claws beginning to dig into the planks below them as he saw what must come next.

Despite still getting used to his new size and strength, it took only a few moments for him to reach his full height, hands flexing as he looked down and admired his new and glorious form. It was thrilling, to see the vines and tendrils of the Crimson just below his skin, curving around his muscles, each strand emitting a faint glow that pulsed in time with slow powerful heartbeat of the muscle that beat in his chest, pumping dark tainted blood throughout the rest of his body. It felt... strangely right, correct, as if this was the form someone of his beauty and power should have, should always have had, his already corrupted elven form taken to it's logical and powerful conclusion. The vines whispered more to him as he ran his hands over his body, telling him what to do next, urging him on to serve his purpose. With a growl of pleasure, he set off to his goal, tail slowly moving back and forth , it's tip running over the sleeping bodies around him.

As he walked across the wooden decks of the sleeping quarters, the floors flexing under his weight, the sleepers around him began to stir. Sinuously, his former bedmates began to shift and move, their pale painted skin gliding past each other, revealing trails of red, eyes blinking slowly to watch the latest of the Crimson's chosen go about their duties. As tradition dictated, they bided their time letting the newly awoken go about his task; there would be plenty of time to enjoy the spoils later. Even the thralls, watched the scene, their blank eyeless faces following his every move. This tradition tore at each and everyone one of them, the stink of Valeth's pheromones beginning to spread among the tribe. Soon, each and everyone one of them would be celebrating this blessing from the Crimson, finding partners for their coupling with while their latest Chosen performed his tasks.

As he got closer to the captive Elf, Valeth's senses began to light up. He could smell her reaction to him the moment she felt it, the fear and terror of the unknown now approaching and for a moment, he relished it. But then, his senses began to detect another scent - arousal, desire. This Nym'dhoine had seen just what the Crimson was capable of and now she wanted it for herself, needed it, begged for it without saying a word. And Valeth would be the Crimson's messenger. He would drive himself deep inside this pathetic wanderer and welcome her properly to the tribe.