Naked Battle Elves - GOLD COMPENDIUM - Chronicles 1-5 (Naked Battle Elves Compendiums)

by Ryan Erin

  Saph didn't seem bothered by the question. "Move on. Begin looking for the next human who seeks to understand the living world as much as I. Continue the work that we've started here."

  Chyra nodded, taking another long sip.

  "You have that, too, don't you?" he asked.

  She looked up at him over the lip of the teacup. "How do you mean?"

  "We both surround ourselves with mortals...constantly forced to watch them wither away while we live on. I have my quest for knowledge that keeps me finding new companions, while you...you have a different kind of quest...any quest, I'd guess. Your need for adventure keeps you falling into the company of exceptional mortals. You must make for a one-of-kind-traveling companion to them...the one immortal with a lust for adventure...which, ironically, is so very mortal of a trait."

  "I suppose," Chyra replied. "I don't hold myself to such a high standard as all that. I simply go where the 'quest' takes me...and I love those who go with me."

  "But this present quest isn't like the others, is it?"

  Chyra felt her smile fading.

  Saph continued. "This one is weighing on you...it's changing you. You're more prone to solitude under the weight of that sword, and I fear you are growing accustomed to it as your only companion."

  Chyra set the cup down. "What is it that you see when you look at my soul?"

  Saph took another puff from his pipe, holding the smoke in his lungs for long moments before letting it curl from his mouth. "It is not for anyone...not even a dragon...to tell you what is in your own soul."

  Chyra was alone in the guardroom.

  The golem stood before her...

  ...Not moving...

  ...Eyes dead.

  But its hands had held the sword.

  She touched the clay fingers.

  They felt so life-like on the surface.

  She pressed up closer to him. The clay abdominals felt firm against her breasts, even through the shirt.

  She ran her fingertips down his side.

  Her eyes moved up to his.

  He stared straight ahead, eyes empty and unmoving.

  "Thinner face," she whispered.

  The golem's face became more angular.

  Chyra exhaled in frustration at herself.

  She stepped away from the clay man, rubbing her eyes.

  She knew better than to ask a dragon such a direct question, and yet...

  ...And yet...

  "Pointier chin..."

  The golem's jaw lengthened, loosing its square shape to a thinner, more pronounced chin.

  "Higher cheekbones...taller stature...narrower shoulders...taller..."

  She found the edge of the table behind her, and leaned against it, pressing her temples in frustration.

  The Dragon's words were heavy on her.

  So heavy, she almost didn't hear the sound escape her lips.

  "...Horns..."

  Chyra didn't open her eyes.

  Her fingers tapped against the table.

  Her toes scraped against the grooves in the floor.

  The satin shirt slid against her skin, the sound of its tight folds echoing in her ears.

  "...Clawed fingers...cloven hooves..."

  She could hear the sounds of his body reshaping itself, and she put a hand to her forehead.

  "...Throw me onto the table..."

  Strong hands grabbed her under an arm and a leg, lifting her off the floor and slamming her onto the table.

  She groaned in pain.

  "...Flip me over! Hard!"

  The hands twisted her over, slamming her down again.

  "...Hold me down!"

  A clawed hand pressed into her back, flattening her chest against the old wood as the wind rushed out of her lungs.

  "...Slap my ass..."

  The crack was sharp and loud, and Chyra winced just before the pain set in.

  "…Again!"

  Her right cheek shuddered from the impact, and she clenched her teeth.

  "...AGAIN!!!"

  The crack echoed through the room a third time. Tears stung her eyes as the pain stung her ass.

  "...Grab my hair..." she managed to say through clenched teeth.

  Her head was yanked back with a jolt.

  "...Rip my clothes off..."

  The shirt split wide open.

  Her efanwi tore away with a snap.

  "...Rub your cock...against my pussy..."

  Hands grabbed her ankles, pulling her across the table and spreading her legs wide as a firm appendage jammed against her soft parts.

  She gasped. "...Up and down...rub it up and..."

  The bulbous member rubbed itself up and down, spreading her own dampness along the crease.

  Chyra moaned against the tightness in her throat from having her head held back so far. Her breath came hard with every stroke and press of the clay against her softness.

  "...Open...my legs...wider..."

  Her ankles were pulled further apart.

  "...Wider!" she shouted.

  The golem opened her legs till she was doing full splits, his massive member pressing hard against her throbbing parts. And with her head still yanked up by the hair, she swallowed hard. "...Shove your cock inside meeAaaAaarGH!"

  The golem's cock forced its way in, penetrating Chyra as far as it would go. She screamed in pain and pleasure as the clay man held it there, waiting for further instructions.

  For a long moment, she didn't give him any - taking the time to relish such a massive cock filling her tiny elven body.

  "...Pull it...out..."

  The hard member retreated, completely exiting her.

  "...And...back in..."

  It returned, filling her, and she groaned again as it ran deep.

  "...Keep going...in and out...keep repeating...Ugnh!"

  The cock entered and exited over and over between her splayed legs, drawing itself across every pleasure spot, building the intensity with every motion. She gasped over and over again, her high-pitched cries forcing their way out from a tight throat, as she reveled in the slow, deliberate fucking.

  Long minutes passed, her body unable to move against the multitude of hands pressing her down and pulling her wide as the colossal thing ravaged her.

  "Force my head against the table...!"

  The fingers in her hair shoved her face against the wood grain and she gasped out again. "...Fuck me faster!"

  The rhythm increased.

  "Faster!"

  He increased again, the cock now slipping rapidly in and out, flinging tiny ropes of her juice onto the table.

  "...Tongue...my...clitoris..."

  The second tongue formed behind her and dabbed against the firm bulb below the penetration.

  Chyra breathed quickly, her voice gasping with every lick and shove, but it wasn't enough.

  "...Pull...my leg...up...but keep fucking meeeeeeeee!!!!"

  The golem did as instructed, yanking one leg up by the ankle, and pulling her in close. Chyra cried out incoherently as the artificial man pounded her as if she were a rag doll in its grasp.

  She could barely speak between painful gasps.

  "...Make...me...suck it...your...cock...!"

  The golem pulled the rigid penis free and lifted her into the air by one ankle until her head was swinging right in front of the clay cock that had just been inside her. The other clawed hand grabbed her hair again and pressed her face against the thing, her jaw finally giving way as he forced it inside, filling her mouth.

  She could taste her own juices on it, mixing with the earthen musk as she gagged on its size.

  Upside down, with one leg dangling free in the open air, the golem pulled her back and forth, violently forcing her to suck its cock.

  She choked on its girth, fighting to breathe through her nostrils when suddenly, a tongue touched her swollen clitoris and began lapping up and down.

  She hadn't told him to stop licking her.

  Chyra's scream was muffled against the mass
that filled her mouth as new shockwaves of pleasure surged through her body from the tongue between her legs.

  Over and over, it lashed at her. She was helpless against it - completely unable to stop the violation of her body; unable to issue a single new command while her mouth was bursting with cock.

  It was long minutes before Chyra realized that someone else was there.

  Her eyes shot open, darting toward the door.

  Standing there, upside down in her field of view, and watching her abject violation by a golem reshaped to look like the same demon she had said she'd wanted to kill...

  ...Was the Sage.

  "Nas, cease movement."

  The golem froze, and only then did Chyra realize that she was screaming in horror at having been discovered - her cries little more than a whimper against the clay in her mouth.

  "Remove yourself from the elf, and set her on the floor."

  The golem's cock retracted from her mouth, and he lowered Chyra gently to the floor, releasing her.

  She reactively covered herself, somehow unable to get up.

  She cried out in horror at her own actions...the nakedness of a hunger she hadn't realized had been growing inside her...

  ...And all of the sudden, the dragon's warnings made sense.

  "Nas, you are no longer to obey Chyra of Illyndyl."

  Chyra could feel the Sage's eyes turn to her.

  "That concludes my final test," he said. "We'll reconvene in the morning."

  Then, the Sage of Teewinot Spire turned and walked out.

  Chyra was in an increasing state of self-hatred as she sprinted through the citadel. It took what seemed like seconds to find herself back in the poolroom with all her gear strapped on and the sword wrapped in a stolen cloak.

  She bit back heavy tears as she stopped at the edge of the still water.

  All she had to do was jump in and she could be gone before Saph or the Sage even noticed the sword was missing.

  There were plenty of places she could go...several lifetimes worth of secret locations where she could hide out and formulate a new plan...

  ...But what would that plan be?

  She had worked so hard to get to the top of Teewinot Spire…to convince one of the most learned men in the world to advise on her situation. No one else had ever accomplished that. And just mere hours before hearing the Sage's advice, he had caught her doing...what?

  She didn't even know, herself.

  But he would definitely take the sword away from her now...now that he thought she was falling under the demon's spell. How could he or Saph trust her to destroy the thing after witnessing her fantasy of being savaged by the demon played out with a clay replica?

  Why had she done it at all?

  How long had that been stirring inside her?

  Without disturbing the surface of the pool, a head of green hair rose from the water. Unearthly eyes stared at her, unblinking.

  Chyra hadn't summoned Dinadri, but for some reason, the nymph had come anyway. The look in her eyes was both cold and questioning.

  Where to next?

  What happens now?

  Chyra swallowed.

  "...Not yet, Dinadri."

  The elf of Illyndyl then turned and slung the sword over her shoulder.

  Let men and dragons judge her however they might. They were no different than the nymph in the pool, the missionaries on the road, or the rangers on the mountain when it came to one simple fact - none of them had carried the weapon for three years.

  In the end, only one opinion was relevant.

  And that was hers.

  Chyra climbed back up the steps.

  The hearth was already lit when Chyra walked into the library the following morning.

  Gwyra had tea ready, and Saph, still in his human form, was already sipping from his usual chair.

  "Good morning," Saph said.

  "Good morning," Chyra replied.

  The dragon's tone betrayed nothing. She couldn't tell if he knew about the upside down fucking she'd been caught taking the night before. He was far too old for her to read his expression, so she turned to the only person in the room who was younger than her.

  "Thank you, Gwyra," she said, taking the cup and saucer. Gwyra's smile was a little forced...no longer awkward and shy the way it had been the day before.

  Gwyra knew.

  And that meant Saph knew.

  Of any of them, Gwyra would be owed the apology. Chyra may have just ruined any chance for further sexual activities between the goblyn girl and her golem toy.

  She'd wait till they were alone for that conversation.

  The Sage walked in at last, and after taking his tea, sat in the chair across from Saph.

  Chyra sat as well, and Gwyra headed for the door.

  "Do stay, Gwyra," Saph said. "Find a chair. You should hear this as well."

  The goblyn girl shot Chyra a quick glance as if to say, 'Thanks. Because of you, I get to share in the single most embarrassing reprimand I'll ever experience.'

  Chyra made it a point to defend the girl as soon as the subject of golem fucking turned her direction.

  "If there is a constant in this world," the Sage began, "it's that what can destroy us is also that which most fascinates us. This is especially true of demons, and this demon seems to be as fascinated with you as you are with it."

  Chyra didn't give him the satisfaction of a response. She didn't even look away from him.

  So, he continued. "You asked me how to destroy the demon. It is my best guess that it has something to do with you. It may not be you personally, you understand? It could be the sign you were born under, it could be elves in general...but something about you is so deadly to him that his demonic nature can't help but try to seduce you."

  This was not at all what Chyra was expecting to hear.

  She could feel Gwyra's surprise from the next chair over, and even Saph raised an eyebrow.

  "Any thoughts on how I accomplish that?" Chyra asked.

  "Not specifically," he replied. "It's mere speculation in the absence of any real research, but I have formulated two possible courses of action that might rid the world of this demonic weapon. That is, of course, if that is still your wish?"

  Chyra didn't break eye contact with the man. "Do not mistake my actions from last night as a loss of resolve."

  "On the contrary, I understand more than you know. No one loves their demons, but there's some part of each of us that desperately wants to be taken by them." The Sage sat back. "And I think we can both leave it at that."

  For the first time since she met the man, Chyra felt like they had an understanding. She had no idea what the Sage's demon might be, nor in what way he wished to be 'taken' by it, but the mere fact that it was there made her feel as if they were now free to respect each other equally.

  "What do you propose?" she asked.

  "That depends. Do you prefer Incarceration or Destruction?"

  "Tell me both."

  "Very well. Should you choose to bury the weapon in a place where it would most likely never be discovered again, then it's the Eldritch Prison of Karna."

  Chyra raised her tea. "I've never been to Karna. No one has ever been able to tell me where it's located."

  "Because it's location is invisible to the common eye."

  Chyra lowered her teacup. "But the Sage of Teewinot has an uncommon eye?"

  "Better than that. Thanks to the scroll you brought me, I now know the location of a door that will take you there. It won't be easy to get to, nor to open, but should you inter that sword in one of the Karna vaults, there is little chance that it will ever return to the surface world again."

  But Chyra knew there was a chance. As long as men like the Sage were being born, the humans would grow smarter and smarter, and eventually, perhaps even in Chyra's lifetime, she would see one of them find a way to retrieve the thing from a place even as inescapable as a cursed prison.

  "And how do I destroy it?" she asked.
/>   The Sage stared at her for long moments before answering. "As I said yesterday, each demon has a unique and specific way to be killed. Since there is no documentation on Uzael, the only way to find out his weakness...is to visit his lair."

  Chyra's heart began to sink. "I assume you're not referring to the tomb where I found the sword."

  "No," he replied, "The Demon's lair will be where all demons lair...the Deep Darkness."

  Both Chyra's tea and blood grew cold as she listened.

  "Entering the Deep Darkness as a living being...especially a being of light like an elf...is extremely dangerous. If you don't have the proper protections, if the wrong denizen sees you, or if you linger too long, you will become trapped, and subject to the vilest of horrors for the rest of eternity. However, if there were knowledge to be gained on any demon lord, it would be found there. And as Uzael is trapped here in the sword, his fortress should be easier to infiltrate."

  Chyra nodded. "Entering the Deep Darkness is impossible on the surface of the world."

  "That is true. And most of the underground kingdoms do not penetrate to a depth where crossings can be made possible. That means..."

  "One of the Seven Dungeons." Chyra finished for him.

  "Indeed," the old man replied.

  Saph tapped his pipe against an amber ashtray. "I know that elves do not go underground if they can help it. But I also know that you are not typical of your people."

  "I've been below plenty of times before, and even half way down Ixthian, or what the humans call 'DreadHollow.'"

  "The deepest of the seven," Saph replied.

  "You've been there?" Chyra asked.

  "Long ago. There was a dragon who laired at the bottom of a pit which the inhabitants call the ‘Silent Well.’ If you can get there...and you give him a token from me, he may help you."

  Chyra met the dragon's eyes. "I am embarrassed by the volume of the Fire's kindness."

  "Then let the Fire further your embarrassment by giving you a ride."

  Chyra watched the magnificent dragon soar off into the western sky, his sapphire blue scales glittering in the sunlight.

  The elf inside her wanted to cry at parting ways with such a rare and beautiful creature.

  Perhaps she would have cried had she never left the Sacred Grove...never seen the expanse of the world or witnessed so many mortals living and dying. But were that the case, she also would never have met the dragon in person, heard him speak, or certainly ever rode on his back as miles and miles of mountains, fields, rivers, towns and castles drifted by far below.