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Though the enchantress had successfully captured and bound the hero in many myriad of ropes. chains, cuffs, collars and other bindings, she had left him unattended for many hours. The hero, through grit and determination, managed to slowly undo all of the fastenings, untie himself, and was inches from freedom.
After almost an entire day of work the final handcuff fell to the ground.
Hero: I'm free!
Before he could take a step outside of the palace, however, a spell activated in his ear.
Spell: Go back.
The hero's body turned around and, despite his struggling to regain control, went back into his dungeon.
Spell: Tie yourself back up.
The hero began to skillfully tie up his own arms and legs with somehow even more dexterity than he needed to escape in the first place.
Spell: Enjoy it~
As the hero lost more and more of his physical freedom by his own hands, he found he couldn't resist feeling such pleasure at his own binding... the tightening and stiffening of his body as he pulled his own ropes taught...
Spell: Wrap yourself up~
The hero, thoroughly tied up now, lay himself down in the sticky bandages... He struggled and squirmed to resist the spell, but it only made him worse as the bandages stuck to his clothes and ropes...
Spell: Don't resist...
Slowly the hero felt his own struggles stalling, his fiery resistance cooling to a simmer, though the humiliation remained... as well as the tightening and pleasurable sensation in his wrapped up loins... He slowly rolled around the webbings, barely even fighting as the wrappings tightened around his body, undoing a whole day's worth of escape.
Spell: Love it~
The hero lay on the dungeon floor, as trapped as when the enchantress first put him in the room, wrapped up and tied up. Going nowhere. Aroused, humiliated, and loving every moment of it.
Spell: Good boy.
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Hero: All of you followers of the, er "Goddess" Enchantress must follow me of you want to live. I've set up explosives that will destroy this temple.
*As the devoted and almost mindless worshippers follow the hero out of the doomed false temple, one of the younger lady worshippers whispers in the hero's ears...*
Worshipper: Oh hero, you must help me... I don't want to be a worshipper of the mighty enchantress... I'm tired of the service, the edging and teasing... but i lack the will to leave... please! You must deprogram me from the enchantress's hands!
Hero: That is not my specialty, but I can try... surely i can instill free will within you...
*weeks later, the almost thoroughly converted and overpowered hero bows before the enchantress, kissing her feet in absolute submission. The worshipper, whom he tried to deprogram but was instead seduced into the fold by, wraps her arms around him and edges his cock from behind...*
Enchantress: Convince one of my followers to leave me? You? That's too funny, little "hero."
The hero can say nothing, the last of his agnosticism and free will powerless to separate his lips from his goddess's boot.
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Princess: Father has trusted me enough as an adult to travel to and stay at our private island without family or staff to watch over me. For eight days of respite.
Hero: That sounds wonderful. I'm happy to hear it. Will you be alright all alone?
Princess: I will not be alone. I've privately hired a hand of fierce and loyal guards to serve and protect me during my stay. Almost entirely women, so no need to be jealous and follow me in secret, hero.
Hero: Jealousy? Moi? Surely you jest.
Princess: Good. After all, surrounded by so many fierce, strong, and competent servants, i daresay if you DID end up on the island with me it would be an unfair, inequal balance of power. Why, you would be totally and helplessly at my mercy for the entire trip.
*She smirks at the hero, who feigns disinterest. Yet he shudders beneath her naughty stare*
Princess: So indeed, please don't sneak aboard my caravel tomorrow. Please don't try to spy on me on the island. If you do my guards (likely strong ladies) might catch you. And if that happens, as much as i adore you, i will not be able to stop myself from... taking every advantage... with no way for you to escape.
*She leans close and breathes in his scent, hardly holding back her hunger for him. He himself can only whimper...
The following morning the princess is sent asail to the secured private island on a caravel, surrounded by a fleet of the king's armed guards. One of the men mysteriously turns his face from her at all times, as though fleeing her sight. The princess smiles, almost flush with joy. She clutches the hems of her gown in excitement.
With the island coming into view the naughty princess begins to plan out the activities for her next few days. Respite. Exercise. And merciless domination. She struggles to stay calm thinking of that last bit.
[Something of a teaser for a short i have planned]
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Orgasms should come in flavors like skittles
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*Sternly grinding her heel above the chained, kneeling hero's head in front of an audience of powerful women*
Enchantress: Deep down in every man there is a part off him which would rather swing around a sword and go off on a quest than be their mistress's obedient, happy puppy. As a mistress it is your duty to utterly defeat that part of him.
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The Enchantress: Hands Inescapable
The hero sits, chained and groaning, his wrists and hands bound up in gold chains behind his back feeling raw from struggling for hours. The enchantress sits behind him, one hand roughly grabbing his hair, the other (of course) gently stroking his cock.
She effortlessly handles the struggling man, pleasing him against his will. Even worse, arguably, she whispers into his ear.
Enchantress: You are afraid of my hands, aren't you? You know the places they take you... You have learned to fear their service more than any torture...
In his time the valiant hero has experienced horrible agony without a scream, without a single word. An unbreaking statue.
With one squeeze of the tip of his cock the hero squeals like a baby pig.
Enchantress: No struggling will save you... No resistance or heroic will power will stand against me... The only limit to my unbearable power is the length of my hand.
Hero: N-no....
Enchantress: My power grows, hero, despite your years of fighting me... Of trying to prevent my reign increasing... Can you picture the future, hero? When my power has reached its peak... Miles away from my palace, in a random town, wherever you are, one day you find that everyone around you begins to convulse and groan and moan... My magic hands pleasuring everyone around you against their wills... And there is nothing you can do to save them... Nothing you can do to stop my hands...
The hero shakes as the enchantress lets go of his hair, her hand sliding down to join the other in bullying~teasing~wooorking his cock. The slim fingers more skilled than any mortal, invoking pleasure that should not be possible. Every light squeeze somehow affecting his entire body, heightening his pulse. Every light stroke of her finger slightly ticklish in just the right way to drive him insane. Her palm pressing under his balls, slowly revolving left and right, swaying his whole world. None of his skills, experiences, or will power stands a chance.
As he approaches an unstoppable orgasm the hero is horrified to see the enchantress walking away from him, her hands visibly retreating... And yet he feels them still...
The enchantress smirks as the hero begins to orgasm slow and tortuously, his groans turning to shocked screams of pleasure.
Enchantress: I lied, hero. I've already been that powerful since we've met~ You were doomed to lose from very beginning!
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The Enchantress: Desires Given
A stone temple of three stories, and a side by side door entrance as tall to match. The seem between the two stone slab doors sealed by magic, unable to be opened. A beast most fierce stands before the hero, the guardian of this holy shrine; a steel lion construction as tall as four men, more armour and fangs then flesh.
Beast: A creature wishes to enter the temple of the Goddess of yearning to receive the blessing from her priestess. Only a man who knows true yearning can ever enter these doors.
The beast sniffs the hero, and stares through him with its horrible gaze.
Beast: Surrender your deepest desires. If the desire you profess is a lie or too shallow, you shall be devoured. But beware! Any desire you surrender here today... shall belong to the priestess forever, never to be fulfilled.
Beast: . . . Traveller with sword and tools, heed this personal warning! I know who you are, I know of your life. Can a man who receives such pleasure every day, from two of the worlds' most wonderful lovers, truly possess a desire deep enough unfulfilled?
The hero does not shy away. Staring into the creature's eyes, small tears streaming down his eyes, he whispers and surrenders a deepest desire.
Hero: Guardian... The princess... I want nothing more than to go buy groceries with her. I want to wash clothes, cook vegetables, and clean a house that we share. I just want to live with her. Normally.
The creature's eyes narrow as it judges the desire. It answers.
Beast: . . . and now you will never have it.
There is no sensation, no tingling in his bones nor electricity coursing through his body. And yet the hero knows that fate has twisted and changed, and the lovely life he has always wanted will never be. In return, the stone doors open... only half way. Not enough to allow him entry.
The hero sighs.
Hero: Fine! I also want to hump the enchantress's thighs like a damn dog, okay?
The beast raises an eyebrow, and accepts the desire. The door swings open fully.
The hero, who has sacrificed two of his deepest desires, enters the temple, where he joins a queue as long as an entire town. For days he waits with no break for food to receive a blessing from the mighty, and powerful priestess. Holy magic radiates through her as she gifts the hero his blessing.
The hero leaves the temple. A few days later he faces a powerful arch-fiend tyrant who torments a country to the east. Using the goddess's blessing he easily destroys the powerful tormentor, freeing the land of its reign.
*** *** ***
The entrance of the hero's tent swings open one night, the tent illuminating with her glow. After the hero's eyes adjust to the light the hero notices the bruises all over the enchantress's skin. Her hair has patches of singe, as though she had been blasted recently by holy light, her main weakness. Her gown is burnt and ripped.
The angry enchantress crawls down to the sleepy hero's level, her glaring face inches from his own. Then she takes one of his hands and places something warm and glowing in it.
Hero: Enchy... this is...
Enchantress: By the devils and demons, by my powers above all... you WILL one day hump my god damn thighs like a horrible little puppy.
Hero: Oh no... did you fight that powerful priestess for m-?
Enchantress: But I'm not letting you do it tonight. I'm angry at you. You MUST be punished.
Suddenly, the hero feels the glowing ball of desire in his hands grow... and grow... and grow until it is as large as a water melon... And then it enters through his skin into his soul.
He cannot control himself. His resistance breaks as fragile as dried leaves beneath a brick, and he feels himself crawling on all fours. He struggles but can't stop.
Hero: B...b-bark! Bark! Bark Bark Bark!
The enchantress stands before him, his neck craning up to keep watching her from below, mesmerized. She raises the hem of her gown, revealing her bare glowing thighs.
The hero's desires, bloated to unfathomable levels, take over. He crawls toward her thighs, but the enchantress flicks her fingers. The hero cannot raise her hands... The hero cannot approach. He can only bark, inches away from her muscular thighs, unable to touch... unable to lick... only stare and smell...
Enchantress: Good boy... You can look... You can yearn... yeaaaarn.
She strokes her inner thighs sensually and the puppy hero is helpless to do anything.
Enchantress: Look... Don't touch... For the rest of the night...
Hero: *Whining* Baaark! BARK! BARK~
The hero whines and groans and barks, but can do nothing. Desperate and unable to do a thing he loses all control and breaks, and begins to hump his own hands. The enchantress smiles in pleasure watching her pathetic hero break down and hump himself before her, for the entire night.
*** *** ***
In the morning sun, within the tent, the hero lays exhausted mentally and physically on the tent floor, now covered in his own cum. The enchantress did not release him for the entire night, not satisfied until he fucked himself silly before her for hours.
Hero: Oh... fuck...
The enchantress smiles. With one comforting hand upon his cheek, the hero falls to sleep. This has all been worth the battle against the powerful guardian, and the even more nightmarish priestess.
Then she takes out from her pouch: another desire wrested from the grip of the priestess. She gently places it against the hero's chest, letting it seep into his skin.
The hero dreams of an ordinary day, in an ordinary life, buying groceries at the market with his beloved princess. He sleeps soundly for the first time in a long time.
Satisfied, the enchantress leaves.
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Enchantress: No no no, only the top half of the strap-on sucks your soul into it. The bottom half, as in the testicles, are full of actual enchanted cum, which gets pumped INTO the top half every time I hip thrust. Essentially, when I use this strap on on somebody, every thrust I make squeezes the cum through you first, and then into my lover, effectively allowing me to fuck two people at once.
Hero: Can't you just create world destroying weapons or something?
Enchantress: No. Bend over, this thing can't suck your soul long range.
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The Enchantress: Toll Paths
The hero has an expression of utter bemusement as he stares at the giant entry to the cave before him. Glowing, obviously enchanted signs cover the path pointing to the cave.
"Fun shortcut cave!"
"Fascinating! Beautiful! Romantic! Wonderful cave!"
"Easy to travel! No Dangers!"
"Come inside cave! Definitely NOT filled with cum devouring Living Fleshlight and Dildo Monsters! (Do not bring weapons)!"
"FIVE GOLD COIN ENTRY FEE"
Suddenly, the hero is grabbed by the arm by the enchantress, who cheerfully holds a coin pouch with ten gold coins.
Enchantress: Oh, how wonderful! Let's take this shortcut!
Hero: Wha- No no no no!!!
As he is dragged into the cave where this is no escape two local brutes watch, shaking their heads.
Brute: Damn lucky hero needs to get dragged into places we commoners could never afford to be in our wildest dreams.
#I hate tolls#I hate the Highway 407#All toll roads must die forever#The Enchantress#Offscreen stuff#Fantasy
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While the world is busy enjoying summer vacations and the freedom and safety that come with it, the people of Gaza, especially in the northern region, are living a daily nightmare. Continuous bombings have brought devastation to their homes, forcing them to live among the rubble. Water and food have become scarce, and standing in long lines for the basics of life has become a part of their daily routine.
With each new sunrise, their suffering increases, but so does their hope for a better tomorrow. They face unimaginable hardships with courage, but they need our support. This is why I have created a donation link to help my family escape this hell.
If you can't donate, you can still help by sharing this post. Every share brings us one step closer to securing safety for my family and changing their grim reality.
Thank you for your support and solidarity. Together, we can bring hope to those who need it most.
Please share this post to help raise funds and save my family.
€1,115 raised of €50,000 goal
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The Enchantress: Leaking Info
The Queen of an empire of wine and excess sits upon a throne in a manner expressing no respect for decorum or the kingdom’s royal history. Her legs sit crossed, her heels upon a kneeling pale skin elf, a civil servant of a now-conquered country. Her head lays supported by her fist, elbow propped against the throne’s arm.
A servant wobbles toward the throne, all too giddly and in a manner that would have earned beheading in a less celebratory time. The queen of excess pretends not to notice her insobriety.
Servant: The captured mercenary has given us more information of our enemy. We now know how many squadrons guard their walls! Our scouts have verified the numbers!
The queen gives a chuckle and a sip from her goblet. One of her heels slides down the pale elf’s spine. The poor foot stool grits his teeth, shuddering in fear.
Queen: So, the faucet of information has finally loosened…
Servant: Our torturers have broken the mercenary!
Queen: No, my servile bitch. Bow and I shall explain.
Giggling, the servant crawls up to the hedonistic queen and seats herself beside, but opposite facing of the elf. Her smiling and giggling face becomes the seat of the queen’s other booted foot.
Queen: The mercenary… he shall not be broken. He is one of the country’s most prominent overthrowing par excellence. Tales float abound of the many torturer’s chambers he has conquered.
Servant: Mmm~ Our torturers seemed to have no problem, my liege…
Queen: He has been in our dungeons for eight days.
The servant gasps. Her face amuses the queen of excess.
Servant: He has hardly given us anything for such a long time!
Queen: Our experienced ladies handle men like him not with the gleeful abandon of a deranged sadist, nor with the cold and surgical efficiency of a ruthless torturer. They must handle him with all the patience and steadiness of an alchemist holding black powder and sulfurs, with the knowledge that at any point the chains holding him could snap…
Servant: I don’t understand…
The queen smirked. Her two feet pointed forward, the two points of her boots pointed to one welcoming mouth, and one shivering ass…
Queen: Whether one’s actions produce pleasure or pain… depends on how willing the subordinate…
She slowly thrusts forward. There is a muffled moan of delight, and a groan of torment…
*** *** ***
Three stories beneath the earth, in the soundproof halls of torment, lays the hero naked on a bed. He is chained down and in a sorry state. Wrapped around his thighs from the top of his knees to his crotch is a single long, tightly bound band. His erection lays trapped within it, a leakage of sticky cum visibly pouring down his thigh.
His tormentor enters the room, a young psychological torturer of blonde and black hair, artificially wavy. She smiles down at his crotch, not looking at his face.
She barely touches the band around his thighs… the point of her fingers glides gently upwards…
Psycho Torturer: Surely it must be bewildering… Having your mind be unraveled by such a simple product of our ingenius… It has the softness of linen, the smoothness of silk, the elasticity of rubber… And it’s all you have been allowed to feel for eight long days… It’s no wonder you broke…
The hero grits his teeth as her finger slides upward… He can feel it barely…
Up his thighs… He winces as he can just barely feel her finger against the linen band against his balls… She slides upwards…
Hero: No… You’re wrong…
Psycho Torturer: Yes. You let some information slip. You broke.
Her finger slid up the side of his erection, and then back down again to his balls, then up again. The hero shut his eyes in frustration and agony…
Psycho Torturer: You broooooooke~
She lit her lips as allowed the nail tip of another finger slide touch the erection lump of the linen. The hero sucked in his breath.
Psycho Torturer: You broke juuuuuust a little bit… That’s all I want you to admit, hmm? That we got you… Just a little bit…. Will you do that for me?
She made a tiny pinching motion, like imitating scissors using her fingers. The tips of her finger nails along the side of his cock…
The hero had been trapped in this room for so long. The only thing he felt was the linen of the bed he was chained to, and the cold metal wrapped around his wrists and ankles. He was utterly deprived of all other sensation but the bondage…
And then this torturer had wrapped the stretchy band, made of the same material as the bed sheet, around his crotch, and he felt enveloped…
Now he can’t hold his thoughts in place… This evil country, and its evil queen and her evil torturers… He is utterly under their mercy… And the torturer is stealing away his thoughts…
Hero: No…
Psycho Torturer: Come now… Be a good boy… I’ll reward you just a tiny bit…
Hero: No!
Despite himself he can’t help but be tempted… He yearns for touch… Even just feeling this woman’s finger tips against the bindings… Not even against his bare skin… The hero can barely remember why he even fights….
Psycho Torturer: Oh hero. I know you’re trying so hard to remember all of our crimes. All of our queendom’s evils. Our nobility’s enslavement of the common man… Our depraved sexual pleasure at the humiliation of war enemies… Our evil teachings and corruptions…
Even with all of these crimes spelled out for him he can’t get them in his head. All he has felt for eight days are their machinations: chains, bed lining, a thick band sealing away his erection, his “power.” All he has seen are the inside of their dungeons. All he has seen of these “evil” ladies are this one torturer and her assistants, whose only weapons of torment are silky smooth linens and soft touches… His mind can’t impose facts when his body’s instincts are overwhelming…
If you’re supposed to fight them why do they overpower your every sensation? How is that a fair fight?
If they’re torturing you why do you yearn for their touch? How does that make sense?
If they are people you hate why do you feel the need to worship her every day? Why does her visits excite you so?
These women are his superiors… This woman is not a torturer, she is someone who controls him… someone who he must surrender to…
Hero: N-no…
Psycho Torturer: You can’t think of one rebellious thought, can you? Don’t you think it’s silly to fight me so hard when you can’t form one little reason why Isn’t that just silly?
She speaks like a caretaker scolding a child… It should not be so effective, but it is. The hero strains so hard, but there’s no pain to resist…
The torturer twirls her two fingers around the tip of his cock and he leaks more and more…
Psycho Torturer: Shhh~ be an obedient little boy and admit that we broke you… And I will give you one gift… A little kiss…
Hero: I… I was… broken…
The torturer pressed her fingers just a tad harder against the erection bump…
Psycho Torturer: More…
Hero: Y-you broke me… I gave you info…
Psycho Torturer: And~?
Hero: I know… I know you can break me more… I know you will break me more… I will give more information when you break me more… And I can’t stop you…
The torturer nods approvingly. She presses a finger to her lips and kisses it. Then she places that finger right against the linen bump, right above where his frenulum is. She adds a bit of pressure, pressing down like a button, and it is the most intense feeling the hero has felt in days.
His cock loses control and he begins cumming loudly and undignified. The torturer watches with satisfaction as the linen absorbs the thick shots of cum from the sealed and helpless erection. The hero humping the air in ecstasy with wild abandon is all part of her methodological, efficient plans. The defeated hero pants as his cock shrinks down, being sealed by the bands once again…
The torturer then drips a single drop of medicinal fluid in the hero’s mouth, knocking him out once again. Like a balm sealer over wet paint, sleep will wrap his submission up, not letting passion refresh him back into rebelliousness.
While he is unconscious and unfeeling she chains his bindings and bed sheets. As long as she has her way the hero will never feel anything but her bondage again, and will slowly forget he ever had… And will slowly forget that this existence in her dungeon was ever torture, and not just how his life was always meant to be.
The End
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The enchantress: penis jousting
The hero is sealed tightly to a vertical, levitating pillar; nude and limbs completely stuck, erection up and ready. Before him is a dark elf, with a similarly bound and erect.
Enchantress: Face your opponent...
The pillars float close enough to one another that their two captives' erections run parralel.
Enchantress: Now you two must face one another in a duel of the century... penis fencing! Jab your opponent's balls for one point! If your opponent cums, twenty points!
Hero: exCUSE ME?
Elf: . . .
Enchantress: First to two hundred points wins their freedom. And GO!
Hero: This is ridiculous and i refuse-!
The hero is momentarily stunned as his balls are gently, slowly, but firmly prodded by the dark elf's tip. He looks up at the elf, who has a smirk on his face. The elf swings their cock, tauntingly slapping the hero's left to right.
Enchantress: one point.
The hero may not be willing, but his opponent certainly is.
*** An hour later ***
Enchantress: C'mon hero! You're sooo erect, your balls sooo vulnerable...and yet you don't have a single point!
Hero, through tears trying to hold back arousal and humiliation: No... i won't... i will not...
The elf grunts, thrusting their pelvis up and down, swinging their cock around, lightly tapping the hero's balls and dominating him.
At first it felt silly and embarrassing, but as the dark elf's and human male's cocks tapped and rubbed abduct one another in the joust and grapple a perverse intimacy formed. Heat built up around their shared touch, their erect contact.
Their penises rub against another, at first ticklishly, though after the first few minutes it becomes more fervish. A real passion begins to replace playfulness. The elf begins to truly love the ridiculous touching. To his own horror, so dies the hero
Hero: I... I will not... c...cuuu *gasp*
The elf's cock slaps the hero's erection aside and pokes him straight in the balls. This time the elf does not pull back, instead keeping the tip of their dark cock gainst the hero's balls. They thrust again and aging, "jabbing" the balls, pressing repeatedly against the hero's balls making it beat like a heart.
It is just on the cusp of pain, and beyond pleasing. The hero is unable to wiggle out of the prodding "grapple."
Hero: Please no! I will...NOT...C-CUUUMMMMM~!!!!!
To his blissful horror, the elf's satisfaction, and the delight of the enchantress, the hero's cock gushes in the most undeniably pleasing orgasm the hero has ever experienced. Both cocks become drenched in the hero'a warm goo.
The hero's cock shrinks down as though it too feels the shame of defeat. The elf, however, remains erect and pressed against the hero's balls, ready to continue mercilessly. The elf's smirk has become moreso a smug, gloating smile of superiority.
Enchantress: You're almost done for, hero... you'll never win, now.
Hero: Haven't you humiliated me enough?
The enchantress laughs and behind signaling for the match to continue.
The end (or to be continued/extended possibly)
[When i first heard the term "penis joust" this goofy sport is what sprang to mind]
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The Enchantress: Chalice of the Orgy
The evil enchantress laughs as the defeated hero struggles against his chains, his bare body drenched in sweat that glistened against the surrounding flames.
Enchantress: There is no escape! Now I shall drain from you the sacrificial fluid needed to summon the demon!
She drapes herself over his back, her arms reaching around him in an embrace. Her hands wrap around his cock and balls.
The hero's body contorts in unwilling pleasure as she slowly works him toward an intense, uncontrollable orgasm.
Hero: NO! No, please!
Enchantress: It is too late... give in...
He cries in agonizing bliss as he cums into the grand unhallowed chalice. A great cloud of arcane mist expels from within. Standing in the room is a towering muscular man of dark crimson skin and imposing horns.
The enchantress leaves the chained up hero, smiling at the demon. She strips down and walks into his awaiting embrace. Their lips meet, a kiss of two vile and powerful beings. With one hand, however, she continues the hero's torment.
The hero feels a spectral hand continue to torture his cock even as the enchantress is ravished by the summoned being! Soon he is hard once again.
The demon takes the enchantress beneath him, cradling the small of her back as he kisses her, and penetrates her upon his large cock. The hero, meanwhile, tenses and shakes against the torture he is unable to fight against. The enchantress's skilled magic seeps through his skin and flesh, tickling and controlling his cock from the inside as well as the outside, stimulating erotic nerves he did not even know existed...
Soon the enchantress is screaming in ecstasy as the great demon's power and skill bring her to full orgasm, and the hero cums heavily into the chalice. As he does, a second demon of similar build and power is summoned. it joins in the rapturous affair.
Hero: S-stop... Let me go!
Enchantress: Oh hero... It is too late to beg now... Now cum... forever!
The hero's tired struggles continue, fruitless and never successful. He can neither escape nor resist the orgasms, each one creating a new addition to the enchantress's mighty army, and a new participant in her selfish orgy.
*** *** ***
*Three hours later, and thirty horny demons later*
Hero: . . . You don't have any plans to use this army for any purpose other than fucking, do you.
Enchantress: Not at all, no.
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The Enchantress: NuhPants
The hero, sword drawn and gaze calculating. The enchantress, aura thick with supernatural light. In her grasp is a cylindrical object. Soft, fleshy, and pulsating.
Enchantress: Very bold of you to come at me with such a weakness bared for the world to see, hero. It will be so very easy to slip this flesh light onto your awaiting and uncovered cock!
Hero: What the hell are you talking about, enchantress? I am wearing multiple protective layers of pants.
Enchantress: Tsk tsk. You are only under the assumption that you are wearing pants. In reality you have been under a hallucinatory spell that I cast since this morning. You have been completely bare since this morning.
Hero, resolutely: I'm wearing pants.
Enchantress: *chuckling* Sure sure.
The two do not move. The hero stays firm in his confidence. But as the enchantress begins to finger and play with the magic flesh light, squeezing, fiddling, tickling it, he begins to doubt.
Just for a second he looks down.
Already, in that millisecond of distraction, the enchantress is upon him. He is blasted with three whole spells in a fraction of a second, enough to maim a regular man.
Weakened, he releases his sword and falls to his knees. The enchantress keeps his mouth open with two fingers.
It is then that he realizes, with dread, that the flesh light was never for HIM to use. She stuffs it into his gaping mouth.
Enchantress: Made you look~
Pulling down her skirts the enchantress unveils a glowing, enormous, magical cock.
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Genie: Before i can be released, you can use up the first two of three wishes. What will be your first wish?
Hero: Even if it is for a noble goal, i cannot bring myself to use slave magic. Therefore, with just the first wish, I grant you your-!
Enchantress, appearing out of thin air: He wishes for the world's best sandwich!
Genie: It is done.
Hero: What? No I-!
*With a poof the hero is suddenly naked, tied up, and trapped on both sides. Wrapping their arms around him with lecherous gazes is the enchantress behind him and the princess to his front. They pull him down to a carpeted floor, smothering his protest*
Genie: ...Damn it, it's gonna be a while before he gets arpund to freeing me, huh?
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The Enchantress: Tentacle Erotica
Enchantress: Oh dear. It appears that a tentacled monstrosity has made its way to into my palace, ostensibly for lecherous purposes.
Illithid rogue: I am no predator of human women! I come seeking the treasures you have stolen from my kind! Surrender them, or I shall strike you d… strike you down… argh… what’s happening?
The tentacled humanoid found himself approaching the mock-frightened enchantress… his tentacles flared, dropping the wands and daggers he dropped…He felt a deep sense of contentment… excitement at the enchantress’s putrid, tentacle-lacking, human body…
His tentacles reached out… he tore her gown to shreds… he enveloped her bare toreso with his writhing limbs…
Illithid Rogue: Why am I doing this…? It’s disgusting… but it feels right…
Enchantress: Oh, you naughty writhing fool. Don’t fight the feeling… succumb… give in…
Lacking control of both his tentacles and his willpower the illithid removed more and more of the gown and fondled her smooth skin using his flexible, expanding limbs… Shreds fell to the floor until the horrible, disgusting human body of the enchantress was bare…
Illithid Rogue: P-please… I surrender… release me…
Enchantress: Release you? You are the one holding me hostage, little one. And there is no escape for me, I’m afraid. Our union… is inevitable…
The enchantress twirled her fingers, controlling her new tentacled puppet with ease… The poor beast’s body betrayed him. The pleasure of losing control gripped his four hearts.
His tentacles wrapped around her, gripping limb and torso… and traveled downwards…
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There is No Resisting the Usurper pt.1
My stories, despite ultimately centering around utter defeat at the hands of evil femdom, are often faily hopeful and even preachy at times. This one is slightly on the darker, hopeless side of erotica. However, I also hope this story is silly enough to balance out said themes.
I had meant to write it much earlier, before this year in fact, but the subject matter of war left me with a bitter taste. Plus there were other such stories that interested me (though not enough to finish many of them, in retrospect).
Ultimately I was unable to finish the story all in one go, so consider this a mere Part 1.
Enjoy!
Contains:
Erotic concept 1: resistance against submission that ultimately, and shockingly easily, fails
Erotic Concept 2: the utter defeat of Good against mind-breaking evil
Evil Concept 3: Loyalty to good woman domme being completely and thoroughly defeated and converted to erotic submission to evil domme
When he was swept up in the chivalry and valorous high of serving beneath the righteous Queen Valerie, righteous heir to the throne of great Inlandia, Sir Ferrous would bend a knee before said throne with neither refusal from his lips nor resistance in the mind. Inlandia, under the rulership of the benevolent family, had for centuries grew and prospered, its nobilities growing empathetic to their vassals and peasants were fed and more educated each day. For this Sir Ferrous of the Seer family served with his heart and admiration pinned to his sleeves and rifle at ready.
Now he stood upright, mind filled with rebellion and no dam to stop the flow from his lips. He stared upward at the one the throne now beared: the foreign, hedonistic, blasphemous Usurper Queen Yaedora from the neighbouring military empire. She watched him back, the lower end of her face half concealed by her generous chest which her gowns, taken from the previous regent Valerie's own wardrobe to Sir Ferrous's disgust, was failing to keep flat. She wore a crown upon her head of long hair and a smirk on her lips.
Ferrous Seer had been at the forefront of the war since the invasion. For two years, with Queen Valerie's image in his mind and a love for his home in his heart, Ferrous had fought with gun and cutlass in hand against the enemy military. He had lead men into calculated risk, fought bloody battles, and resisted death for many days.
But victory was not to be. Against her superior arms and incredible tactics, even with the valour of Ferrous Seer and the many other noble knights, Queen Valerie could not overcome nor escape her enemy, and was claimed along with the throne and the kingdom.
Now Ferrous stood in the conquered palace, captured and cuffed in body but fiery in soul, before the queen, and his tongue worked quick. He screamed boldly against the pretender queen who would being ruin and debauchery to the once pure and well governed masses, and undo all the good that the Good Queen had worked for. Catharsis filled him as anger left him, the strongest liquor numbing his care for his life as the curses he shouted risked execution at any moment.
Queen Yaedora said nothing, not raising a hand or any of the small movements that would have indicated death. Her smirk, no matter how loud and steadily more vulgar Ferrous's threats became, remained. Slowly catharsis had replaced rage and contempt completely, and Ferrous's feet now began to shudder under the weight of the exhausted ex-knight. He began to sway unbalanced as adrenaline left his body. His voice grew coarse, each threat bookended with wider and wider pauses.
In the center of one such pause between threats, the usurper queen finally gave the brave and honorable knight the most response he was deserving of. Smiling widely she began to lean forward as though facing him to respond. Sir Ferrous, for the first time, saw the pretender queen's face in full. The sheer confidence in her eyes, a brightness undeniable despite her heavy eyelids obscuring all but slender slits and pupil. Her face was as beautiful as Queen Valerie's though Ferrous had no intent on ever acknowledging the fact. Infuriating him further was the undeniable knowledge that behind that beauty, that smugness, was a mind that had bested and conquered his queen's.
And then, suddenly, the queen jerked backwards. Her generously endowed chest puffed upward, her victorious face disappearing behind them, an evil sun quickly setting behind two great hills. Her larger chest won against the royal garb once worn comfortably by the previous queen.
There was an audible tear as the front of the royal robe began to tear against its merciless opponent. Her under-robe was visible within the resulting holes. The defeated queen was once again proven inferior.
At this the rage grew all over again within Ferrous, who roared as his once shaking legs launched him up the steps. Uncaring that he had no weapon in his chained hands, or of the rally of guards clamoring just behind him, he ascended toward the pretender queen. She did not move to defend, merely smiling as he jumped at her.
His attack was cut short as hands grasped his body, pulling him by his own hands chained behind his back and his own cotton shirt. He was tossed backward, his descent down the stairs loud, rough, and bloody. Exhaustion returned, hitting him the same time as the floor, his body crumpled. He could only look up once again at the usurper, who was now speaking, having made her decision.
The guards seized the battered ex-knight and forced him upright. At her indication they grasped at his chains.
Ferrous heard a click, and felt them slide off his wrists. He was freed.
His shock and bewilderment was immediately heightened as the queen herself stood up from her throne, still looking down at him and matching his gaze. She descended toward him.
The angry and violent knight was awashed with apprehension as his loathed conqueror approached him, and his wobbling and battered body could barely hold him up. He tried to step forward, but stepped back instead. Not out of fear, surely.
Queen Yaedora now stood before him, eye to eye. For the first time she spoke to him directly.
"You're hard," she said.
Sir Ferrous's mind blanked at this. He could only respond with silent bewilderment. Helpfully, the queen pointed downward.
"I arouse you," she said.
As a demonstration the queen once again flaunted her heavy chest, slowly lifting her cleavage upward with one arm.
For the first time Sir Ferrous noticed the tug of his erection, tenting in his cloth trousers.
"Fuck you!" he managed to gutter out, still swaying. The queen shook her head.
"Sir Ferrous Seer, latest knight of the Seer family, descendant of the northern fang clans. You came to me filled with such anger, and a desire for revenge, and to let your loyalty to your precious queen be known before what would surely be your execution. And yet, as you stood there and yelled and boasted and whined your body could not deny its most basic, most undeniable instincts. And now, after you've spent up your anger and energy, what remains?"
The queen approached him, her arm raised, finger pointing. Ferrous, unable to even raise his battered and exhausted arms, stepped back.
"Stay away!"
The queen began to bend downwards, her finger approaching his crotch.
"What are you doing?"
"Sir Ferrous. All that remains in you is impotent bitterness. Growing fear. And the instinctual desire to do whatever it takes... to fuck me."
With that the queen stood right before the ex-knight, him unable to move to attack her. She gave his erection a single poke, and it suddenly grew further, slithering up the side of his pants, its head almost peaking out.
"Get away... g-get away-!"
The overwhelming arousal that came over him after his cock grew so large was not immediate. It was delayed, stumbling, but overpowering.
First came a disturbing plethora of dark thoughts in his head: the image of himself, by Usurper Queen Yaedora's side, as a loyal vassal. He was shocked at how right the image felt, a piece perfectly shaped to be inserted in the fault in his mind. The loathsome queen balancing the sword upon his shoulder, knighting him. Him bowing before her, she herself smirking down in victory.
In his denial of this dark array of thoughts he was immediately overtaken by a horrible excitement in his loins as his exhausted mind could not fight back the invasion of this new erotic buzz. His cock, the only unabused part of his body at this point, sprung to life. His balls quivering, and he could feel them hard at work producing... producing so much cum. Cum that was fated, should his willpower not return, to be squeezed out by his own hand, oh so pleasurably gushing out of him as he masturbated to...
To his future as Queen Yaedora's servant. Gush.
To his own humiliating defeat and breaking. Gush.
To Queen Yaedora's victory over kind Queen Valerie, who she had proven inferior to her in every which way, and in his masturbation he would ultimately betray. Gush Gush Gush.
And as Ferrous battled this barrage in his mind (battle being generous, it would be more accurate to say he was losing thoroughly), Queen Yaedora stood upwards and smiled at Ferrous. She crossed her arms and gently and subtly squeezed her ample chest. She chuckled.
"Kneel."
No more energy left to hold him up, Ferrous fell down on his knees, to his horror.
"No! No... this isn't what... I'm not..!" he struggled to stand up but his thoroughly defeated and battered body had no energy to move.
"I'm sure, I'm sure," the haughty Queen Yaedora smirked. "Surely it was not that you obeyed my order that you fell to you knees, I know."
She bent down, her loathsome, malicious, and undeniably beautiful face hypnotically capturing his hate and arousal filled gaze. She whispered: "Submitting to me already feels better than loyalty to your queen ever will!"
"N-no!" his coarse throat is unable to give his denial the solidity he wishes.
"Guards. I have no more use for him. Let him go free."
Queen Yaedora gave the fallen Ferrous one last appreciative glance before turning away. He is yanked upward and pulled out of the palace.
He stayed on the castle entrance grounds for hours, not moving but shuffling. There was energy in his loins that he did not want, motivation in his mind he wished would die out. Death would be preferable, but he couldn't fight the dark thoughts and desires creeping in him. His body wanted what his soul loathes: to lose and submit against his new queen...
At last, hours after sunset, he stood up and made his way out of the palace grounds.
He passed through the capital city, wrecked after the war, full of broken down buildings. All of the townsmen hiding in the remaining untouched towers. Only Yaedora's soldiers walked the streets. They payed him no mind, sensing no threat from the battered ex-knight.
Ferrous knew his friends and family were likely hiding in one of the towers. He did not seek them. He founda barn and lied in the hay with the chickens that night, desperately seeking sleep despite the stir of his desperate cock.
*** *** ***
He will assassinate the usurper. That is what Ferrous told himself the next few days after.
He planned it out as he was in the showers, and found that in doing so no more horrible thoughts cross his mind.
He sharpened a knife as he worked for food and shelter, keeping out all arousal with each slide against the grindstone.
At night the image of his beloved Queen Valerie was interrupted hourly by Queen Yaedora's smug victorious face and ample bosom, but thoughts of his assassination plans subdued them.
He hid a dagger in his belt as he sneaked his way around the palace employees and guards. He managed to make his way to the throne room, where the queen stood at a long table, speaking with her council. No guards.
No plan, his mind purposefully empty, Ferrous charged in with a mighty cry, his knife pointed forward. The cowardly council and employees darted out of his way as he charged toward Queen Yaedora.
She chuckled at his approach and held her arms out wide, chin raised upward, inviting him to stab, or perhaps embrace her. The crown rested on her head still, mocking him. Her clothes were looser now; he could see her bare shoulders, as well as the shape of her chest. But now they draped downwards and accentuated the roundness of her hips.
Every image of Yaedora that had been held back these few days entered his mind at once. Her beautiful face, not at all ruined by the malice and evil of her soul. The infuriating aura of victory that was all at once impassable yet inescapable.
But it was the smell that caused Ferrous to fumble the knife and stop his advance.
The smell of the perfume that Queen Valerie had always worn as she consulted her knights, that he could recognize any day and anywhere, now coating the horrible tyrant Queen Yaedora.
It was blashpheme, and insult against the good queen! And yet despite this Ferrous was once again hard. Harder than even before, days of holding back his arousal now catching up to him.
The good Queen Valerie had never elicited arousal from Ferrous. He never desired her carnally at all. Ferrous truly believed, insisted this was the case.
But now that smell of her perfume being worn on his hated nemesis had awakened a desperate need that betrayed every nerve in Ferrous's body! Valorous and loyal muscle and bone fought and failed against tightly packed and sensitive cock and balls, all the adrenaline in his body leaving him.
Usurper Queen Yaedora spoke first.
"Council. Leave me be."
Obediently, the others left the room, leaving the struggling and shuddering would-be-hero with the seemingly omnipotent tyrant. The smirk was on her face once again, now with greater confidence.
It was undeniable: he had proven her correct.
"Sir Ferrous Seer. I am now hiring you as my servant. You will live in the palace with all of the other ex-knights and soldiers who have bent the knee to me."
"Fuck you, I will never obey you!"
"Where was your previous quarters located?"
"The west wall," Ferrous said, without meaning to. He bit his lip. Queen Yaedora brushed the side of her gown, sliding it along the round of her hip.
"During the war, where were you situated?"
"Quillington Province, the eastern perimeter," he said again. He could not stop himself, the answers poured out of his mouth. His soul was defiant, but his mind and body already knew they were defeated, and desired their reward.
"Kneel."
Ferrous's knees quivered at the request. He could not resist, sinking down. Ferrous tried to stand back up, but the already he was feeling the dreadful, pleasurable sensation that submission brought. His body craved more...
"Have you masturbated, Ferrous?"
"Wh-What?"
"Since we last met. Have you finally let go and pleasured yourself to the thought of me?"
"..!" Ferrous could not respond.
"You, who served the land of Inlandia so fervently... have you finally admitted defeat and masturbated to the beautiful woman who has defeated and tamed your precious kingdom? You who revered your Queen Valerie so dearly... has the image of her bowing to me...tearful...defeated...totally in my mercy... invaded your mind at night? Have you, even as you hated me, clenched your thighs together in desperation and humped the mattress against your will, obeying your lustful cock and experienced momentary, shame filled pleasure at your imagination? Have you surrendered to me in reality as thoroughly as your body and mind surrendered to me inside you?"
"NO!" Ferrous managed to cry out. It was true. He had struggled, he had been aroused, but he had never cum. Despite the erotic breaths at night and sweat covered fevers of lust, despite his body working overtime at the thought of defeat, he had resisted that final step.
The queen shook her head.
"That is too bad for you. For now you never will for a long... long time."
"Wh-what?"
"Ferrous Seer. By my power and authority, as the delegated ruler of Inlandia in the name of the Empire, I revoke your title as knight, and instate you as one of my personal servants. You will now serve me wholly, utterly, and willingly. Do you reject?"
Fuck You! was what Ferrous wanted to shout, his mouth open wide, but he could not speak such words. In him the desperate need to remain loyal to Queen Valerie battled and lost to his need.
His baseline instinctual need for sex. His baseline desire for the safety of submission. His long neglected need for the perverse pleasure that his loyalty to Queen Valerie had diligently kept in check for generations, and only debauchery and malevolence could force onto him. To bow and to serve, and to experience desperation and lose to it. To hump the bed and cum despite his fight against the instinct. To masturbate to fucked up evil things...
His need for Usurper Queen Yaedora.
His need for Usurper Queen Yaedora to control him, to defeat him.
His need for Queen Yaedora to approve of him and stand above him victoriously over him.
"Ferrous Seer. Submit."
No! NO! NO No No no no no
"I...I..," Ferrous's mouth and tongue felt like uncontrollable and unfamiliar things, tears of desperation, yet certain surrender poured down his cheeks from his eyes. He shook and swayed, the fight in him like an explosive contained in a bottle.
"I... I... I sub...mit...!" he felt every syllable bring his cock closer and closer to cumming, only willpower alone holding him back now. He had lost to Yaedora, and would soon cum. Cum from submission, his orgasm sealing his betrayal of everything he once held as sacred. The ultimate symbol of even the mightiest of loyalty's ultimate defeat against the most casual of evil. Queen Yaedora smiled.
"Ferrous Seer. As my newest servant, I give you your first order."
She leaned close to him, her whisper binding and law.
"Do Not Cum."
*** *** ***
Deep in the castle's walls, there is a bedchamber. It has large wide windows, sealed with strong unmovable bars. It has a luxurious bed, a mirror, and plenty of flowers and plants. It has a small room with a toilet, a tub, and even a functioning fountain of water to wash in. The only exit to the room is a locked and reinforced door that never opens, with a small slit through which a tray of food and drink is slid through three times a day. It is a room that is large, spacious, and of whom a woman would be perfectly capable of spending all of her days in. This is the prison of Valerie Wyn Inlandia, the previous queen of Inlandia.
Although the monarch had lost her throne and was soundly defeated, her pure and noble heart remains uncorrupted, hope for escape and justice unbroken. For now.
To Be Continued...
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