Celebrian stood before the goblin king, head bowed. Her long silver locks hid her face. Silent tears streamed down dirty checks.
The orcs had not mistreated her—woe to any orc who spoiled the king’s pleasure-toy. But the hem of her traveling dress was wet and muddied by the long walk through water logged tunnels. Her hair was matted and her arms were muddied, bruised and cut from many a tumble in the dark. None of that mattered compared to the fate that awaited her at the hands of this so-called king.
"What is this?" said the goblin king. The lift of his loin cloth caused by the stiffening of his cock demonstrated full well that the question was moot.
"An elf-bitch, your highness, brought from the cave at the top of the pass. We snatched her while she slept."
"Was she alone?" asked the King.
His yellow, watery eyes gazed at his captive. Those eyes displayed a hint of fear of elf-warriors but far more they glowed with lust. Elves would stop at nothing to reclaim a lost woman to the orcs. As well they should, thought, the king contemplating what lay in store for this fine specimen of elven womanhood. Breaking her to his needs would be exquisite.
"No, your highness. But they have not pursued us yet. Guards are posted. We will know if they come."
Celebrian could follow their words, for the orcs were a mixed lot of big Uruks and little woods-goblins and used the Westron tongue to communicate. Her heart could not help leap with the reminder that her husband Elrond would come in search of her. And no force of orcs could stay her rescue. She had only to outlast her captors for a little while.
The goblin stroked the stubble on his chin with a great clawed hand. He idly picked the nostril of his large pig-nose and twitched his pig-ears so that the tufts of hair in the ears twitched. Tusk-teeth protrude upward from his under-slung jaw.
He smiled. He knew what she was thinking. And he knew that valor or not, it would take great effort for Elves to track them through the maze of tunnels. They had not idly brought her through water-filled tunnels: tracking was near impossible.
The Elves would come, but not for a long time. And he would likely be gone long before they arrived. But if not, well, some pleasures were worth the risk.
"Strip her," he said at last.
Celebrian’s head jerked up. Her hair fell away from her face revealing violet eyes under sliver eyebrows, a fine small nose and a tiny, delicate mouth.
The goblin king thought of what that mouth would soon be willing to engulf. With a final pulse, his cock stiffened to its full one-foot length. The loincloth slipped to the side revealing his gnarled, twisted gray member. Black moles of varying size and height dotted his 2-inch wide shaft but the glans was smooth, bulbous and more than 3 inches across. Pulsing veins snaked across the shaft.
Celebrian gasped and dropped her head again. Her hair fell back across her face but she could not help dart a glance back at the hideous member.
Honoring the king’s command, the two orcs who had brought her from the cave stepped to her side. With movements more deft than seemed possible for such brutes, they slit the sleeves and shoulder of her dress so that it fell to her waist, caught by her girdle. More flicks of their knives and the girdle and dress fell to her feet.
She was now clad only in her soft, buckskin boots. Her lithe, supple form swayed under the cruel gaze of the goblin. The king idly stroked the head of his cock. In response, Celebrian trembled in fear and disgust, sending sweet tremors through her firm, apples-sized breasts, breasts graced by perfect, delicate lavender nipples.
The king gripped his shaft still harder. His eyes turned from her quivering breasts to the soft, silver down that was not thick enough to hide her lavender labia. He smiled.
Buckets and rags were brought. The two orcs gingerly washed their charge, trembling at the touch of Celebrian’s smooth skin yet also in fear that too familiar a touch would enrage their king.
They started at her boots, washed the pillars of her thighs, the gentle curves of her hips and the swell of her belly. They caressed her small, sweet breasts with their wash rags and finished with a careful wipe of her face.
Through it all, Celebrian stood as still as possible. She feared that any further quiver on her part, any further tremble of her breast might rouse the king to action. She had to delay. She had to survive until Elrond arrived.
A garment was brought. They forced one leg up, then the other. Looking down through her dangling hair she could not tell what they were dressing her in, only that it was black, tiny and her legs were through two straps.
The orcs raised the garment up. She had expected coarse orc-cloth. But it was smooth, fine silk. The orcs reached her pubes. She felt the cloth bite into her slit and gasped. She could not keep her eyes from darting to the goblin king.
The king’s gaze dance from her eyes to her breasts and back. He leered and passed his lumpy tongue over his tusks and across his thick lips.
"She likes that," he said with a laugh.
Pointing to the orcs holding the garment at her hips, he said, "fix the straps on her twat."
Celebrian felt rough orc fingers and claws slide along the silk over her pubes. They brushed her labia. She trembled violently at the touch. This time she forced her eyes down but this only caused her to watch her bouncing breasts and only reminded her further of the king’s pleasure in her torment.
The orc separated the cloth into two straps and set them on either side of her labia.
"Now do the rest," said the king.
The two orcs continued to work the garment upward. There was little to it: just a pair of straps that passed from shoulder to her pubes joined by a horizontal band front and back. The orcs left the straps passing on either side of her breasts so that they pushed her flesh into a tight mound.
The king regarded the elf-bitch before him, naked except for the black silk that shaped her breasts and highlighted her labia.
To the orc on her left, the King made a twisting motion with his clawed hand. The orc twisted the horizontal band at Celebrian’s back, tightening the straps and fixed it with some sort of clasp. The action drew her breasts together and pushed against her genitals so that her labia protruded half an inch.
"Excellent," said the King.
Celebrian clenched her jaw at the indignity. She forced her mind to visualize her husband coming to rescue her. She had to endure. She could outlast this beast. He could degrade her with this scrap of clothing. He could even force himself on her but he would not have her soul.
The king waved the two orcs away. He sat on his throne, running a hand up and down his shaft, around the prominent lip of his glans. His cock was so hard that the taut skin of his glans dully reflected the torch light. Every lump and mole on his shaft stood clearly defined.
Celebrian’s body began to ache with the tension of holding perfectly still. What was the brute up to? Her heart filled with hope at the delay yet she knew it could not last.
"She is tired," said the king. "Bring her a stool."
A stool was placed behind her and she was pushed on to it. She could not help feel some relief at sitting but it lasted only the few moments before the king waved at her legs and an orc spread her legs apart so that the king had a clear view of her womanhood.
No matter. She could endure this too.
"She is thirsty, bring her a drink."
Behind her she heard an orc uncork flasks and several liquids being poured. Hob-nailed footsteps approached and an orc hand reach out from behind her with a leather wineskin in his hand.
"Drink," said the king gesturing with his hands.
Something about his leer told her not to take the drink. She moved to bat it away but the orc stepped aside. A second orc then held her arms to her side while the first orc pried her mouth open and poured the flask down her throat.
The oily, thick liquid burned and gagged her. It smelled of rancid sex and sweat, tasted of strong liquor with a hint of salt. They emptied the wineskin in short bursts, holding her mouth closed between draughts so that she was forced to drink every drop.
She felt the heat of the liquid burn down her throat and into her stomach. She felt the back of her throat close shut in a gag reflex then slowly loosen. The heat in her stomach moved to her nipples and clit. To her horror, her nipples stood small and proud. She could not see her clit but could feel the swell in her loins. Her labia protrude even farther and she knew that her clit, too, was erect and proud in its soft fold of lavender flesh.
The king watched the liquid take its course with unmasked pleasure. His cock bobbed before him. His fists clenched at his side. His tongue danced over his meaty lips and yellowed tusks while his nostrils flared and his ears twitched with pleasure.
"Not long now," whispered the king.
He knew that the elf-bitch was lost in the pulse of her body and was no longer paying attention to him. A drop of clear liquid seeped from the tip of his cock and fell to the floor.
How long Celebrian remained lost in contemplation of her awakening body, she could never remember. It might have been seconds or hours. Her head had grown foggy and her field of vision shrunk to no more than the king. She smiled at the warmth in her loins and raised a hand to flick a nipple, not hearing the grunt of pleasure from the king.
While rubbing her nipple between thumb and forefinger, she brushed her hair behind her ears with the other. The hall seemed dark to her except for the king on his throne. Idly her gaze traveled over his yellow eyes above the pig nose and tusk, no longer noticing the bold lear. It moved down his bare, hairy chest and fixed on his great cock. His great, long magnificent cock, so unlike the small, smooth one of her husband.
Her hand moved from her hair to her clit. She slowly rubbed both nipple and clitoris, feeling the wetness in her pussy and smelling her scent. All the while she stared at the cock in front of her. Her vision shrank further so that all she could see was that great, gray shaft and smooth head. Somewhere in the hair from which it sprouted, she knew there must be a pair of balls. Would they match the size of the foot-long rod before her, she casually wondered?
She worked her nipple and clit. Dull pleasure rolled in waves across her body. It had been a millennia since she last played this way with herself. Perhaps it had been too long because she could not bring herself to climax. A pout graced her small mouth at the frustrated desire.
Unnoticed by Celebrian, the king stared at his elf-bitch in high heat. His balls ached for release, more clear drops dripped on the floor.
"These elf-whores just need a little push to awaken," he said.
He jiggled his cock drawing Celebrian’s attention to it. She noticed the liquid dripping from its tip and involuntarily swallowed. Yet, her throat balked at the attempt: the muscles were still loose from the draught.
The cock called her. What would it taste like? What it would it feel like in her mouth? She had never taken Elrond into her mouth. That was not the elvish way despite the vulgar name for fellatio: "The Elvish Art."
She fell to her knees. The great cock loomed before her, twisted and gnarled with its warts, bumps and pulsing veins except for the taut, smooth knob. It was beautiful. Rough and smooth, round and long. Oh, so long. She felt a pang in her loins, a desire to bury the rod in her loins. But the curiosity of her mouth won out.
She rocked forward and extended her tongue to touch the tip of the glans. She caught a drop of liquid and tasted a not unpleasant saltiness.
"No one touches the king without permission."
The voice came as if from a distance yet she recognized it as the king’s voice, the owner of this magnificent cock.
She ignored it and reached a hand for the bulb.
"No!" thundered the voice. "Not without permission."
She withdrew the hand halfway, yet still poised, fingers open. She ached to feel it against her, in her mouth, in her twat.
"Ask, and you may touch."
Her mind was still clouded by the draught. Ask? Ask for what? She wondered.
"Oh, to touch it," she said, thinking out loud. She did not notice the laugher of the king and his orcs.
"May I touch it?" she asked with a look of wonder and anticipation on her delicate face.
"Celebrian. Celebrian asks to touch it."
"Touch what, little bitch?"
"Touch it. Touch your cock," saying the word cock for the first time in all the ages of her long life.
"Celebrian wants to touch the king’s cock?"
"And what does that make her?"
Make her? Why a whore. Yes, she thought, finding a strange pleasure in the thought. Celebrian is a whore. I am Celebrian; I am a whore. She smiled and reached for the cock. The king’s hand grabbed her wrist, but gently so as not to break her mood.
"Ask properly, ask like you mean it, elf-bitch," he said, barely able to contain his own anticipation.
She turned her tunnel vision to his face. The great pig noise, fat lips and tusks now seemed somehow attractive in a raw animal way.
Staring into his yellowed eyes, she said, "Celebrian the whore wants to touch your cock. She wants to put it in her mouth. Please?"
She smiled a sweet little smile.
It took his complete will to keep from slamming her head onto his shaft. But he stilled himself. It was much better if she did it herself. Much better now and much better later. She was drugged but she was not yet broken.
"By all means, cunt," said the king.
"Thank you, my king," she said politely.
She turned her vision back to the cock. It was all she saw; it filled her mind.
"Celebrian likes the big cock with its shiny head and bumpy shaft. Such a beautiful cock. So big and strong."
The king shuddered at the words. Never had an elf-bitch taken the magic potion so well before.
She grabbed the head of his cock with one hand. The heat surprised and pleased her. She ran her fingers over its smooth surface and around its lip. She cupped the glans in one hand and ran the forefinger on the other along its under side catching the liquid that had run down it as well as a fresh drop at the tip.
She gathered the liquid on her fingertip and put it in her mouth savoring the salty tang.
"You must ask for my gifts," gasped the king in pleasure. "Each… each… step. And name yourself all the names of a whore, slut-who-pleasures-the-king."
Celebrian’s mind, though clouded, was still cunning. Word games, she thought, how fun. She rolled her tongue across her lips.
"May Celebrian-who-loves-the-king’s-cock-drippings, touch the king’s balls?" she asked.
The king grunted assent.
Celebrian ran a hand along the king’s shaft. The full cock filled her small hand. She felt the bumps of warts and moles pass pleasantly beneath her touch.
Her hand reached the mass of tangled, thick hair at the root of the shaft. Her hand continued down the shaft into the hair, slid to the underside to the scrotum.
The skin of the scrotum was rough and warm. Something heavy pulled the sack down. Her hand followed it down. Down an inch, down six inches until she finally found the great stones that stretched the sack so much.
She gasped at the fill of the king’s balls.
"May Celebrian, Elf-who-touches-the-king’s-great-stones, hold them in her hands?" she ask with a smile.
The king grunted assent again.
She reached both hands to the great stones, fondled both and cupped each with a hand. They filled her hands with their hairy, hot mass. The feel of the king’s sex, the heft of them compared to the puny mass of her husband’s sent a warmth through her.
She closed her eyes and purred in pleasure, rocking slightly as she held the king’s treasure. She drew closer to the great stones. As she did so, her cheek brushed the king’s cock. The smooth head brushed her smooth check.
She opened her eyes again and stared along the great shaft of the king’s manhood. She saw the glans’ smooth swell and its cliff-fall to the wart covered shaft. She wondered how she could ever contain such an expanse of flesh in her flesh. But she knew that she would soon try. She wondered what the warts would feel like as her lips, upper and nether, passed over them. Would they give extra pleasure? This she also would she soon know she thought with a smile.
She dropped one of the king’s balls and used both hands to caress the other one. One hand was not enough.
"Celebrian-who-is-awed-by-the-king’s-warty-cock, may she fondle the king’s ball?"
"Y-y-yes, bitch," the King managed. "Hold it and feel the power that no elf-man can posses," he continued, regaining a little composure but still tense with eager anticipation.
She continued her caresses, rubbing her hands over the mass. It must weigh a pound, maybe two, she thought with pleasure. What great volumes must come from it.
She left her cheek resting against the king’s cock, felt alternately the glans and bumpy shaft rub back and forth as her head and body rocked back and forth with her caresses.
The king’s body jerked under the hold on his balls and the elf-flesh on his cock. Celebrian smiled at the thought that she could please such a brute.
"Can the king’s-ball-holder lick his cock?" she asked.
"Yes, Celebrian," said the king, reaching out a clawed hand to cup the back of her head.
She pulled her head back so that she stared directly at the pulsing cock. She let the great ball drop gently and griped the shaft. For a moment she gazed at the massive cock an inch from the tip of her nose; the massive cock held like a spear in her own hands, aimed at her mouth.
Slowly, so as to savor the moment, she extended her tongue and caught another drop hanging from the tip. She drew the drop into her mouth and then extended again. Beginning in the hole at the tip, she darted her tongue in, then licked in a spiral from to tip to the lip of the glans in a slow, wide languid pass. The cock jerked with pleasure when she rounded the full rim of the bulb but she held it steady in her two-handed grip.
She ran her tongue down the underside where the glans-lip came to together than back towards the tip where her tongue darted into the hole, almost fucking the king in reverse.
With her tongue firmly pinning the tip of the cock, she stroked her hands up and down the shaft from glans to root. She felt the bump of the warts under her hand, the pulse and roll of the veins of the shaft. It was good.
The king felt himself beginning to lose control. She was good, almost perfect. But it was too soon. He had to be in control.
"Cel-" started the king but his voice cracked. He licked his fleshy lips and tried again. "Celebrian! Do you wish to take my cock into your mouth?"
She pulled her tongue away and looked up to the owner of the magnificent cock. Her hands gripped the shaft just below the bulb.
"Why should I trust my cock to you? Have you ever tasted cock before, let alone such a fine rod as this?"
"No," she said. A tear welled in her eye.
"Address me properly, cunt: ‘no, king-with-the-dick-I-beg-to-lick.’"
She nodded, ashamed and appalled that she had displeased the king and might not taste the great shaft.
"Beg to take my cock, convince me of your ardor and I may let you try, pathetic though your attempt may be."
"Oh, thank you, great-king-with-balls-of-fire, king-whose-great-rod-my-mouth-yearns-for."
"Go on, silver bitch. You may not yet stuff your mouth with my wondrous rod."
"Please, my-lord-with-the-rod-of-steel, please let me pleasure you with my humble mouth. I am not worthy for the least favor from the tip of your cock. Each drop I worship though it is degraded in my untrained mouth. I beg to learn the true art of pleasure on your great shaft. I shall caress it tenderly with my tongue, work my lips loving over each bump and twist of your shaft, embrace it fully in my gorge."
"Perhaps I shall let you try…" said the king.
Celebrian opened her mouth wide and bobbed her head at the cock. The king pulled her up short by the hair on her head. The breath from her gaping mouth warmed the bulb of his dick.
"Bad elf-bitch. Bad cunt with tiny breasts and little mouth. I have not given you permission yet. For this transgression, you must beg for forgiveness by naming yourself further. Then we will see."
Celebrian stared down her nose at the glans. She pulled her head against his grip straining to take it into her mouth but the king would not yield. Name herself?
"Cock-sucker?" she said tentatively, straining still.
"Me, Celebrian. I am a cock-sucker."
"Cock-sucker, knob-licker, semen-drinker," she said gaining speed. "I am a whore, a bitch who begs the least drop from a cock without parallel. I want to taste the root of your shaft. I want to fill my mouth with your bulb. I am cock-worshipper, ball-holder, sucker of my king’s salty gifts. I wish to drink every drop in your cock. Feel your great seed fill my mouth, spill down my face and on to my unworthy boobs. I am the cock-whore, the ball-queen, the seed-drinker. The world is my lord the orc king’s great rod. It fills my sight; may it fill my body."
"Very well, cock-sucker, suck-cock."
The king released her hair. Mouth wide, she eagerly bobbed forward and took his entire glans in oral embrace. Her lips wrapped to the lip of the glans. She felt the bulb, big as an apple fill her mouth. It warmed her mouth and sent more warmth to her pussy. She pulled back passing her lips and tongue over the bulb.
Again she bobbed forward and took the bulb in her mouth. Then back, in and out. Jaws stretched wide open to accommodate the pulsing mass. Jaws aching but mouth fulfilled like never before.
The king groaned in pleasure but she did not hear. She saw only the bulb of the dick, felt only its warmth in her mouth and under her hands, heard only the wet slurp of her earnest work.
She bobbed again, took the bulb once more in her mouth. This time she opened her throat and pressed the wonderful, burning spear deeper. The magic draught still suppressed her gag and she took the great bulb and shaft deep into her throat without pause. Swiftly, she plunged down the rod until she buried her nose in the hair of the king’s crotch. She smelled sweat and rancid seed. She felt the huge cock fill her.
Up her head rose for air, then down deep. Again and again. Her pussy ran wet with her juices. Her mouth ran wet with her juices. She marveled at the great shaft and how it filled her. How the smooth glans-lips passed her lips and throat, followed by the rough bumps and knobs of the gnarled shaft.
Again and again, she rose, gasped for air and dove down. Finally, at the bottom of a down stroke, with the king deep within her, he came in a great torrent. He came so fast and full that she swallowed none of it. Instead, as she bobbed up for air, as the great grey shaft pulled from her mouth, a flood of seed followed with it.
It filled her mouth with stickiness and salt. It spilled from her mouth down her chin, splattered on to breasts and chest, ran down the straps of her garment, down her belly and into the silver down of her pubes.
For a moment, she paused in surprise. The great cock dancing before her, no longer shiny but dull and slimy with semen. A string of jizz stretched between the bulb-tip and her lip. She watched great globs drip from the shaft and felt more globs fall from her face.
She smiled. As if in response, the cock jerked again, spraying a fresh load of filth on her face, heavier than the first. It splashed into her open mouth and slid down her chin. A strand passed over her brow and coated her hair into a sticky mess. Spasm and spasm again of the great cock sprayed more and more mess onto her until her eyes were plastered shut and her face covered with a globby-mess. Hot, stinking, wonderful mess.
Blindly, Celebrian took the bulb into her mouth again. This time sucking and cleaning to remove every drop. She swallowed to the root of the shaft and cleansed with tight lips as she withdrew. She worked the bulb and shaft with lips and eager fingers until she felt it go limp.
Then she wiped her face with long, graceful fingers, cleaning each finger with her lips and tongue before wiping again. She felt no need to clean, only to gather every precious drop of the king’s gift.
When little remained on her face, she rubbed her breasts and belly, gathering more of the sticky mass and rubbing the remainder into a thin coating.
She wiped her eyes clear so that she could see. There was the king, sprawled on his throne. His great cock lay limp on his thigh, still thick and massive but not as thick as before. A string of drool hung from his parted lips. He smiled at the Celebrian.
"Well, done, elf-bitch. Silver cock-sucker. Well done for a first time. Perhaps next time will be better."
Under the sheen of smeared semen, Celebrian’s cheeks turned red in shame for not fully pleasing her king. But her memory still burned with ectasty at the memory of the fill of the great cock. And she thought with pleasure that she was promised another try.
Her own sex burned in her loins. She longed for the king to fill her lower throat as he had filled the upper. She stared wishfully at his cock while her finger unthinkingly found her labia. The hood of her labia was wet with the seed that had run down her belly. She worked the moisture into her inner lips, around her clitoris, into her vagina.
She worked her clit vigorously, eager for release. Soft moans escaped her lip. Her vision had begun to widen so that she could see the great cock stiffen again and at the same time watch the king’s rapt gaze at her twat.
At last she felt climax near. Her back arched, she moaned loader and loader until sharp gasps filled the room. She had forgotten about cock and king when suddenly the king lifted her up, spun her around, bent her over and rammed his once again rigid member into her steaming pussy.
She gasped in pain as the broad shaft penetrated her tight pussy, a pussy never before filled with such girth. She gasped in pain as he drove his cock deep to the end of her tunnel, knocking against the firm end. Out came the head, then in again. In and out. Gasps of pain turning to screams of pleasure as the great cock melted her pussy.
One of her hands cupped her dangling breasts while the other returned to her clit, to work it her pearl. She heard the king grunt with exertion, heard her owns squeals of pleasure as if from a distance. Felt herself fulfilled beyond any tortured dream of maidenhood.
At last her body tensed in climax. Still the cock worked her pussy. In and out. Her fluids, lessening, the cock now tugging her skin and lips with each pull. When her squeal turned back to pain, the king came a third time. No flood as before but more than Elrond had ever filled her with, much more.
The king flopped his member, now slack again, onto her back and let the last spurts of seed squirt up her back in long, hot ribbons. Finally he stepped back away, taking the thrice-piercing sword with him.
She stood and felt the seed drip down her back and gush out of her pussy. It ran down her legs. She no longer had energy to gather the mess into her mouth.
She ached from mouth to pussy. Bruised, stretched and even torn, the ache was sharp pleasure.
Numbly she allowed the king’s orcs to guide her to a chamber where she fell fast asleep.
She woke with a start, not knowing where she was. The room was pitch black. No hint of light for her soft elvish eyes to work with. She felt straw under her, realized that she was naked, or at least mostly naked. Silky straps ran shoulder to crotch.
She thought back. Was she in the cave at the top of the pass? If so, some light should have trickled in from the cave mouth. Some sound of her fellow elves should have tickled her ears.
She strained for sight or sound. Distantly she heard the raucous laugh of orcs. Orcs. Her heart pounded.
She remembered being taken to an orc king. Seeing his horrid, warty member. There was more. A searing draught. And then… no, it could not be, her mind screamed. It was a terrible nightmare. No more.
She rose from the straw in a rush and grabbed her herself for comfort. Her womanhood ached in protest at the motion, ached fiercely. She realized her jaw also ached. Could it have been real?
"Never," she gasped. Then she realized that her hands that wrapped her chest rested on crusty skin. With terrible dread she let her hands explore.
Dry crust on her breasts and chest. Pasty globs in the down of her pubes. More crust on her thighs. Thinner flakes on her face and forehead but a thick glob in her hair. She realized that the chamber was filled with the smell of dry and rancid semen. It had been with her long enough that she had not first noted it.
She screamed in realization. Again she screamed. Then she stiffled the scream not wishing to draw her captors.
Where was Elrond? Where was her rescue? But could she now be rescued? Would the king’s foul pollution remain with her forever no matter where she was, no matter how dead the king was?
Minutes later, above her muffled cries, she heard a door open. Faint light trickled into her room. She could now see her semen covered body with her elvish sight. Hobnailed steps approached. The door to her room opened.
The two orcs who had guided her to her disgrace leered at her.
"Come along, silver cock-sucker. Semen-drinker. Cock-worshipper," sneered the orcs.
She had thought the memory of the awful cock in her mouth was the depth of her disgrace. But the names brought back the memory of her own eager words. It was then that she realized that she had not been raped, that she had willingly pleasured the grotesque king.
She did not resist as the orcs led her back to the king’s chamber. On the way she passed warrens filled with sneering, jeering orcs. Great orc matrons with huge, pendulous breasts and teats the size of her husband’s penis. Matrons who mimed fellatio as she passed. Countless male orcs of all sizes, nearly all with their cocks before them, erect and offered for her mouth. Briefly she marveled at the size and shapes of the cocks before catching herself and forcing disgust.
And the names they shouted at her. Cock-sucker. Ball-holder. Cock-whore. Ball-queen. Knob-licker. Semen-drinker. Every one a name she remembered using to beseech the king. It was too much to bear. By the time she reached the king, she hung limp between the two orcs, booted feet dragging behind her.
They dropped her before the orc king on his throne.
"Celebrian, cock-lover, seed-guzzler. Welcome back," said the king. "Cum-eater."
His member lay stiff before him but Celebrian huddled in a ball and could not see it.
"Give her the draught," said the king.
With a start, Celebrian raised her head. The draught had made her disgrace herself. It was the draught’s fault. She had to run. She couldn’t let them do it to her again.
She rose and tried to flee but her aching body betrayed her. She tripped at the foot of the king’s throne and rolled onto her back. She looked up through the king'’ hair spread legs at the bulb of his cock. She shuddered at the sight yet she could not suppress a warmth in her loins.
As she lay on her back staring at the cock, the king’s orcs forced the liquid down her throat. She lay on the floor, gazing at the cock as its warmth flowed through her again.
The draught’s smell of rancid sex brought back the memory of her cum-bath from the night before. Before her eyes, the king’s cock seemed to change from a loathsome twisted, warty shaft to a rod of splendor and beauty, smooth spearhead on robust, knotty shaft. The memory of the moles and warts on her lips, against her pussy returned to her, bringing pleasure and further warmth and wetness to her loins.
On her own volition, she rose and stood before the king. Caked cum in her hair, dry cum on her skin. And a hungry leer on her lips.
Her hands went to her pussy, not to hide it but to caress her tender clit.
"Great king, cock-of-the-world. Celebrian the cock-loving elf-whore begs your gifts again."
The king nodded for her to continue. Her head was not so cloudy this time. She knew what he meant.
"I am cum-drinker, seed-swiller. I yearn for my mouth to run over with your semen. Fill my nostrils with your pungent gift. Shower me with your spray. Let my face run with your seed, let my breasts drip with your cum. Fill my twat with your great cock. Whore that I am, I beg to eat you again."
"As you wish Celebrian," said the king. His rubbery lips stretch in a great grin, bearing his fangs. He snorted with delight. "As you wish."
She eagerly seized his cock with both hands. She teased his head with her tongue, exploring all the smooth bulb and warty shaft, remembering her pleasures from the night before and anticipating new ones.
Then she plunged onto his cock, taking it in to the root and out again. Over and over once more. This time, working the king’s great gonads in her hands at the same time.
When the king came, she was at top-stroke, open mouth poised above the cock. The king let loose with a spurt that shot into her throat and bounced back out to spill and dribble down her chin. Swiftly, she cupped her hands below the torrent to catch as much as possible and scoop it back into her hungry mouth, swallowing fiercely to keep up with the seemingly endless flow.
When at last the flow ceased, she was again dripping with semen. Her face was smeared in goo, although this time she managed to keep her eyes clear. More semen dripped from her pert breasts. Her mouth swam with the stuff. Her stomach sloshed with much more of it.
Remembering the second wind of the time before, she turned her hands to the slackening cock and worked it back to its rigid state. She reached to take the bulb into her mouth when the orc king stood up and spun her around again.
This time she was ready for his ministrations. She sunk to all fours and spread herself for him. But his cock bumped against her anus, not her pussy. She arched her back to better present her pussy, but the king pushed her ass down and again pushed at her anus.
He thrust and shoved, bruising her with his great club and scratching her ass with his clawed hands that gripped her buttocks. He tried to spread her ass open but, though she tried to welcome the king, and encouraged him with her words, he could not penetrate her tight ass.
Giving up, he turned to her wet pussy. He took her savagely, cuming quickly. Again he pulled his cock from her to drain himself on her back. This time, his pent energy sent most of it into her hair at the back of her head.
The orcs lead her back to her chamber while the effects of the draught still lasted. Now she met the jeers of the orcs: "yes, I drink the king’s cock. Not puny ones such as your own." This time she gazed unabashedly at all the magnificent orc dicks offered to her.
But her guards would not let her sample the offerings and she returned to her chamber and the darkness.
No sooner had the door closed then the draught’s power faded away. This time, no sleep buffered her from the memories of what she had done. What she had willing taken into her mouth. She wept silent tears. She did not allow herself to think of rescue by Elrond.
When the next door opened, she thought it was to return her to her torment. But the orcs instead brought a fresh gown and water and rags to clean herself as well as comb to work the goo from her hair.
After they had been gone for some time, she turned to the laborious task of cleansing the filth from her body. But try as she might, she could not cleanse the memory.
She was sleeping when the door next opened. This time she woke to full understanding of her plight. She steeled herself for another round with the king but instead the two orcs lifted her gown, took a kind of dildo with a base that straps attached to and shoved it into her ass.
The dildo stretched her anus terribly but it was much smaller than the king’s huge cock and it was able to pass her tight gate. The orcs fixed the straps around her waist and crotch then tied the straps tight.
The dildo was hard in body. Her anus ached and burned at its presence.
When they left, she pulled her gown up and tried to remove the offending item. But she could not undo the knots with finger, comb or any other implement she could find. She was impaled.
The orcs came from time to time, how often she could not tell. There was no sense of time in this place. From this time on they left a lit torch in her chamber at all times.
Each visit, they removed the dildo to allow her to crap, then returned it. Every few visits, she could tell that they replaced it with a larger one although they never let her see the size of the dildos any more. Each time the size increased, they also coated it in some slick goo that seemed to ease her anus and help it stretch.
She grew to accept the dildos in her ass, came to find the sense of fullness welcome. She even began to feel tingles of pleasure when the dildos were inserted. Often she wondered what the king’s cock would feel like in her ass.
Days must have passed. Twice, when the murmer of orcs seemed least and the orc warrens seemed to sleep she brought herself to climax by working her clit.
One day the orcs came to remove the dildo and did not replace it. This time they left it with her so that she could stare in wonder at the thing that had filled her.
It was the width of the king’s member, though not as long: a three inch bulb with two inch shaft. It was bigger than her fist and it had sat for hours or days in her ass with, by the end, no sense of discomfort.
In amazement, she reached a hand to her ass and felt her anus. It had sunken deep into her body. The flesh around her anus seemed drawn and warm. She almost pushed a finger through to probe inside her but caught herself.
"What have I become," she sobbed. She sobbed. But she returned the dildo to her ass. She let the straps dangle down the back of her thighs under her gown.
When the door opened next, she expected a summons to the king so that he could resume the assault on her ass, this time with guarantee of success. The thought of the king’s ministrations filled her with both loathing and anticipation.
But the orcs shoved a body through the door instead. The figure fell to the ground clutching his arms to his chest. Beneath caked mud and blood, she caught the glint of sliver hair and the curve of an elvish ear.
She did not move to the man at first but in time his pitiful, semi-conscious moans drew her to his side. She rolled him onto his back and started. His face was battered, his lips were cut and his front teeth were missing but the shock was that his hands were cut off at the wrists.
She nursed him through several visits by the orc-guards. These visits brought no summons to the king or further dildos but rags for the man’s wounds and water and food for nourishment.
In the days before he regained full lucidity, she had time to turn her thoughts again to rescue. She recognized the elf as Ithalond from Rivendell. And had she had any doubt that Elrond still sought her, the elf’s babbling during which he spoke of searching and Elrond’s fear for his wife dispelled it.
What type of wife will he find? She thought. She should take her life and the life of this cripple. Neither of them would end well at the hands of the orcs. She knew it was only for some nefarious purpose that they put him in here with her.
But she could not bring herself to strangle the poor warrior who had risked all to find her. She did remove the dildo from her ass and hid it in the slop bucket.
She woke to her the sound her name.
"Celebrian," said a weak, hoarse voice.
It was her handless companion in her cell.
"Yes, Ithalond," she said, keeping her gaze averted from.
"I have found you," he said weakly. "oh, what have they done to me," he said as he realized the source of the pain in his arms. He began to cry.
Though shamed by her degradation, Celebrian could help but comfort the once proud warrior. She took him into her arms and rocked him. In time he regained his composure.
"No matter that they have done to me, my lady, or—or—even to you," he said with hesitation. "Elrond will find us and make things well. He stops at nothing in his search for you."
Celebrian began to sob.
"No! My lady, do not cry. It matters not what has happened only that you will soon be free. They can sully your body but not your heart."
Celebrian continued to cry.
When the door next open, they took her from the cell and left Ithalond behind. She retraced the path to the king’s chamber. The orcs, male and female, leered and jeered at her as before but this time she noticed many wounded and maimed orcs as well. They had been fighting. Her husband was drawing near. Perhaps there was an end in sight. She allowed herself some small hope.
She was still in her gown and boots when she was forced to kneel before the orc-king. He focused her mind on her hope and tried to forget the terrible draught they would soon force down her throat.
But the draught never came. An hour or more passed. The king attended to various matters of guard-postings and reports of elves. She heard orcs come and go behind. She heard things being dragged into the room behind her but did not turn to see. Her hope grew as she listened to the reports of encounters with her husband’s warriors.
"Celebrian, your husband harries my guards but know that he can never reach you. My lair is protected by an impenetrable maze," said the king. Celebrian knew that he lied. "But hope if you wish. Hope all you want as long as you do your duty."
What was he thinking, she wondered? He had not forced the draught on her. Had he forgotten? Or could he really believe her would pleasure him without its fire in her belly?
She looked into his thick, pig-like face. She could not read his beady eyes. But it did not matter, she was in command of herself.
"Your companion, how do you find him?" he asked.
"Ith—" she said, almost speaking his name. "You have treated him cruelly."
"He is but a work in progress. Next he loses his feet."
"Then his cock, but not his balls. His balls can remind him of his lost manhood. Then the nose comes off followed by the ears. Teeth next. And tongue, although perhaps I will leave that for your use," he said with a sneer.
It was too much. Her mind started to blacken. How could this happen to a great warrior, a warrior who had risked all to rescue her?
"But, of course, you can perhaps delay his torment. Maybe even prevent it. It is in your power."
A flush of anger tinted her checks. Of course, she thought, he means to force through this threat. She would be strong, the poor warrior was dead anyhow.
"You would not help your fellow elf?" said the king, noticing her resolve. "How like an orc."
She felt a sting at that. How like an orc. Indeed, it was heartless, like an orc. But could she do otherwise?
She recalled cradling Ithalond through his delirium and after, in his fear. He was helpless. She alone could aid the maimed warrior. Very well, she thought. What does it matter? I have done it before for my own pleasure, now I do it for a greater cause.
She knelt before the king and reach for his cock beneath his loin cloth.
"No, bitch. You know the rules. Name thyself."
She stared at the cruel king. Then slowly and deliberately, she named herself.
"Cock-sucker. Ball-licker. Cum-drinker. Cock-lover. King’s-sheath. Dick-sucker." With each name, the king’s cock twitched beneath his loin cloth. Soon the warty member protruded free of the cloth. She shuddered at what she must do with the thing. But her nipples also hardened and her pussy grew wet.
The king nodded to her. She reach her hands to his cock and felt his warts in her grip. She stroked slowly up and down the shaft for a time, bringing the rod to its full length and hardness. She bobbed forward and extended her tongue to the head of the shaft. She worked her tongue around the glans then opened her mouth to take in the pulsing cock. Deliberately, she begin to work up and down the great shaft.
With each stroke, she took him deeper into throat. She noted coolly that her throat was use to the king, even without the draught: she did not choke or gag. She began to pick up speed. Without realizing it, her hands moved to the king’s balls and felt the familiar weight and warmth of their mass. She now dove with eager, wet slurps on the glans at the beginning of each stroke.
When the cock quivered with impending explosion, she pulled it from her throat so that she could catch his gush in open mouth. For a moment, she stared at the smooth glans, stared into the hole that promised the cum. Then the king errupted.
The flood was greater than any before it. It immediately filled her mouth to overflowing. It splashed up her face, into her nostrils. It poured down her chin and slid and thick, gooey mass under her gown and between her breasts. The cock continued to spasm, sending more bursts into her open mouth. She swallowed as fast as she could but could not hope to keep up with the flow.
When the cock started to go limp, she worked it hard with her hands. Then she stood, lifted her gown above her waist and presented her anus to the king. She guided his great cock to rest against her sunken orifice. She wiggled backwards to force it in but she need not have bothered. The king stood and force it in himself.
There was no pain. The dildos had prepared her well for the cock’s girth. She felt only warmth and pleasure in her pussy while the cock probed into her innermost reaches. Unlike her pussy, no cervix barred the way. With some assisting thrusts of her own she helped the king seat his rod to its full depth in her body. Impaled on his rod, it felt like his cock reached her lungs.
The king begin to pump his cock into her depths. She rocked in concert with his thrusts. As he came to climax a second time, she mewed loudly with pleasure. He plunged deep into her with the final spurt of his load and left her impaled on his dick, unable to bend with the stiff rod in her gut.
She realized she had closed her eyes for most of the ass-fuck. She opened them and took in the gaze of the jeering crowd of the king’s orcs. Bent over, hair falling around her face, cum from her blow-job still dripping from her face, her gown heavy and wet with jizz caught within its folds, impaled on a 12 inch cock fixed into her ass, she could not help but smile in triumph. She had accepted the challenge and survived her own battle. She was a warrior of a sort and her actions had aided a fellow elf. Of course, the cock felt exquisite in her ass, too.
Then she saw Ithalond. He was tied and gagged. But he was positioned to the side so that he could everything. And the horrible shock in his eyes told her he had seen everything.
She shrieked and fainted.
When she awoke, she was still in the stinking gown, crusty in places but still mostly damp. She could still taste the king’s semen in her mouth and knew that her face and hair were still coated. She raised herself to a sitting position. She was back in the cell.
Ithalond sat against the wall staring at her. Staring in disgust.
"Ithalond, I did it to spare you," she cried.
He shook his head. She tried to explain about the draughts. Told him how much she had loathed what she had down to save him. Finally, he replied.
"You took him willingly. You enjoyed it. I saw. How could you? Why didn’t you resist?"
She burst into tears and hung her head in her arms.
When the orcs came later with food, water and cloths to wash with, they also returned her ass-dildo. She did not resist as they removed her gown and restored the dildo to her ass. They left it with the laces untied. Ithalond watched the entire process with undisguised disgust.
When they left, she began to clean herself. It took a long time, but it gave her something to focus on. She did not remove the dildo.
She could feel Ithalond’s eyes burning into the back of her head. She could sense his disgust like a dark cloud in the room. She was alternately torn between self-pity and self-loathing. She had given so much for nothing.
When the orcs came again, she let them lead her away quietly. She paid little attention to the orc warrens as she passed by them, although the orcs were particularly raucous about the dildo straps hanging from her bottom.
At the king’s throne, she meekly fell to her knees before him and waited for his command. An orc-female sat in his lap. She was naked. Her hairy, red twat was at Celebrian’s eye-level. She could see that weights had been fixed to her labia so that they hung half a foot. The she-orc’s breasts were each as big as the great king’s head. Celebrian could have wrapped her hand around a teat and still not covered its full length.
"Give the elf-bitch her draught," he said.
She wondered why the draught was necessary. She would do what ever the king command. She no longer had the will to resist.
When the orc brought the wineskin, she took it from him and drank it. She looked for oblivion in its powerful warmth.
With the draught within her, Celebrian sang her slut-names and worked her magic on the king, even lapping his semen from the floor this time. She took the king’s cock in her mouth, pussy and anus, coming to climax each time, with a little assistance from her fingers on her clit.
When the king seemed spent, she stood in front of him, proud of her service and the great wash of stickiness covering her body.
But the king, though obviously pleasured had turned his attention back to the orc-bitch with the great breasts. He fondled her great teats and toyed with the quivering mass of her breasts.
Celebrian found herself growing jealous. Jealous of an orc-bitch.
"Take my breasts, my king, they are firmer and sweeter than that hag’s," Celebrian said.
"Silence, cock-sucker. Your feeble tits are not worthy of my attention."
He continued to fondle the female. Celebrian watched with longing and frustration.
The king eventually turned his attention back to Celebrian.
"If it weren’t for those sad paps, you would be the best, little elf-bitch."
She nodded in agreement, still in the heat of the draught.
"But that can be fixed."
"Can it?" she asked eagerly. "You can make my body perfect with great breasts to match your wonderful cock? Is it possible my lord, oh, great ass-filler?"
The king whispered into the she-orc’s ear. She went away down a tunnel and returned with two leathery bags. Celebrian so that they were full of some liquid and had some sort of spout at the their bottom. As the orc-bitch grew close, Celebrian released that the sacks were made from the breast-skin of some immense orc-female. She did not care. It was the liquid she wanted, if it could give her breasts that would capture her king.
The elf-bitch dribbled the contents of the sacks through the teat-hole onto Celebrian’s breasts.
"Rub it in," said the king.
Celebrian rubbed the milky liquid into her skin while the orc-bitch continued to dribble it out. It seemed that her pores sucked it up. It took an hour before the contents were soaked into her breasts.
Already the absorbed moisture has swollen her breasts to twice their normal size. They were hard and tender. And still far smaller than the great orcs paps on the female before her.
"Take her back to her room and feed her well so that her breasts grow immense," ordered the king.
Back in her cell, she cleaned herself. They gave her a new gown and took away the dildo. They fed her meat and milk. She did not let herself dwell on the source of the meat or the milk.
With the draught long out of her system, she dreaded the request she had made and willed her breasts to remain their apple-size. Perhaps the potion had not taken effect because the swelling in her breasts subsided and they seemed to return to her old size, perhaps a shade bigger.
As for Ithalond, she never saw him again. He was not in the chamber when she had returned. No doubt he suffered before his death but the memory of his scorn kept her from mourning.
A week since last pleasuring the king, the door of her cell slowly opened. In the dim light, she saw an elf. But not one maimed and near death. She was rescued.
Later, re-united with Elrond in the light of the sun, clothed once again in garments fit for her status, she could not meet his eyes. Tenderly, he embraced her and told her, "Fear not, my love. No matter what was done to you, it is over."
During the return to Rivendell and afterwards, Elrond was kind and gentle with her. He held her often so that she knew he did not scorn her yet made no attempt for sex either. When he felt her shudder at his touch, he ignored it. He knew it might be years before she was ready again. But years for an elf were nothing when ages stretched before the both of them.
Celebrian tried to get back into the dream-like rhythm of life at Rivendell. But her dreams were filled by memories of how she pleasured the orc-king and she was troubled by how often her waking eye turned to the bulge in the crotch of the warriors or sheathed-cocks of the stallions. Most of all, she was haunted by her last request to the orc-king regarding her breasts.
Morning and night she checked them for signs of change but found none except for the initial increase in size. They did not decrease. She was disturbed by that sign. Elf-flesh restores itself. Even Ithalond’s hands would have grown back in time. And she could feel that her ass-hole was not quite so sunken nor so large, although the change was minute. It would take decades to return to normal but clearly the process had started. But her breasts had not started to shrink back to apple size. It was good that they had not grown but something was not right if they did not shrink.
A year passed. Her eye still turned to cock-bulges but she could mask it and it no longer bothered her. She sometimes felt the orc-king’s cock in her mouth in her dreams but not very often. Her ass-hole continued its slow shrink towards normalcy. Only her breasts remained stubbornly unchanged.
It did not terrify her like it had at first but still she was concerned. She could talk to no one about it, though. How could she possibly explain? So, she watched and waited, cupping her breast each day for signs of change, growth or diminution.
In the spring travelers from the east arrived. They were a merchant party traveling to distant Esgoroth. As it was a trip of many months and they were a large party, with women and children, they had many wagons, carts, horses and even cows for milk and steers for beef. Elrond offered entertainment. In gratitude on the last day, the travelers treated their hosts to a banquet at their camp with fresh beef and bread, their best wine, and a special treat unknown to the elves who did not keep cows: ice cream.
Elrond watched Celebrian brush her hair. The banquet had ended and they were preparing to sleep. They had still not had sex but he was patient. He was pleased at her progress. She had calmed considerably since they had first rescued her and she no longer jumped at this touch.
"You seemed to enjoy yourself, tonight, my dear," he said.
She smiled at him. "Yes, songs and food were, well, not our normal fare, but it was a happy party."
"You seemed to like the iced-treat they made. You had several helpings."
"Yes, it was very good," she said, blushing. It had been good. But she blushed not because of her indulgence, as Elrond thought, but because after she finished, she realized it had reminded her of the orc-king’s cum. It was sweet and cold where he had been hot and salty, but even so, there was something about its texture in her mouth that brought back the memory.
"In that case, we shall keep a few cows and make our own iced-cream in Rivendell."
Elrond was true to his word. Cows were sent for, as were a few milkmaids and a man to teach the elves how to handle the cows and make the ice cream. Soon, the new confection was a regular part of most evenings in Rivendell. Celebrian always helped herself to the treat.
One summer night, she dreamed of the orc-king and his orc-bitch with the great teats. She dreamed of the liquid the bitch had rubbed into her own breasts. In her dream, her nipples suddenly protruded an inch, then two. Her aureola spread to the size of her fist, nearly engulfing her small breasts. Then her chest began to swell. Her breasts grew hard and taut as they expanded. They swelled and swelled. All the while the orc-bitch continued to rub her liquid into them. She saw her nipples enlarged to the size of the orc-bitch’s, saw them hanging like her husband’s limp penis.
With a start she woke in the night. Her husband stirred beside her but did not wake. Her hands were cupped to her breasts, still small, but were they as small as before? She could not tell. She spent the rest of the night waiting for dawn so that she could inspect her breasts when her husband left her alone during her toilette.
When that time finally arrived, she carefully felt her breasts and nipples. They did seem bigger, but only by tiny a bit. She would never have noticed had she not spent the last many months checking them carefully. And perhaps it was just the dream working on her mind.
She had to be sure. She took a hair ribbon and wrapped it around her right breast. She marked where the ribbon met.
Over the next few days, she checked her breast size with the ribbon as soon as she had privacy. The ribbon no longer met at the mark. At first, she convinced herself it was merely the imprecision of her method of measurement, or a different tilt to her breast that shifted the weight. By the end of the week, the ribbon was an inch short of her mark and her breasts felt noticeably heavy.
"It can’t be," she said. "Something isn’t right. The mark must be off."
She threw away the ribbon. She wrapped another around her breast. This time she cut the ribbon to the length necessary to wrap her breast. She even left a little extra. To hold the ribbon together she told herself although she really knew it was to defer the inevitable judgment.
By the following week, no matter how much she squeezed and mashed her breast, she could not make the ribbon join. There was no denying it. Besides, the other signs were just as obvious only fear and denial had let her go this far. Her hands could not longer contain her breasts. Once they easily cupped her apple-mounds but they could not contend with what was now the size of a modest grapefruit. Neither could she ignore her nipples that thrust from the shift of her gown where once they had barely dented the cloth.
And she had several times caught Elrond staring at her breasts, although he had not yet said anything.
It was time to talk to him, though the thought shamed her deeply. There was no other choice.
That night, in bed, with her hands across in chest in unconscious, futile attempt to stifle the growth of her bosom. She spoke to Elrond.
"Elrond, my love, I must speak to you."
"Of course, my sweet." Elrond knew what she would say but he let her get to it on her own. He had no fear. Such petty magic of the orcs could be dealt with.
"The orcs… the orcs…"
Elrond waited for her to continue.
"The orcs put a liquid on my breasts. To make them grow. I had thought it was too long ago and the risk had passed. But… my, b-breasts are…"
"Yes, they have grown," said Elrond. He took her into his arms to comfort her. He was not attracted by her ample bosom; it was not elvish. Big breasts were for humans and fat orc-cows. But he still loved his wife.
"Fear not, Celebrian, I can turn back this magic."
The next day Elrond worked his magic. Celebrian had stripped to the waist and her large breasts sat full, firm and high on her chest. In time, if nothing were done about her breasts, she knew they would soften and sag some but as their new size was only two weeks old, for now they held firm. And though she knew her husband felt no arousal by their firm mass, she herself felt warmth in her loins and had to stifle a desire to caress them before her husband.
While he cast his enchantments, she noticed that her aureola were now two inches across and her nipples, stimulated by the cool morning air were erect and bigger than the last joint of her index finger.
After a few minutes of chanting, Elrond took cool spring water and bathed her breasts. He pronounced more words. The spell was done.
"There you go, Celebrian," he said. "It will take some time to return to normal but at least they will grow no longer. The spells of orcs are not strong unless willingly accepted. All will be well."
Elrond had turned his back on Celebrian while he spoke so that he could gather the basin and other items used during the spell. So he did not notice Celebrian jump with a shock that sent her grapefruit breasts bouncing. The words "willingly accepted" shouted in her head. She had asked for the spell. She had been under the effects of the draught but nonetheless, she had begged for her breasts to be made large. She had asked for "great breasts to match your wonderful cock." She remembered the words perfectly. How big could that be? She wondered. Surely not as big as the orc-bitch! That creature’s breasts had stretched to her waist and neither was the orc-bitch short (being almost six feet) nor had her boobs been flabby, empty husks: they were fat and full. They must have weighed eight pounds or more each!
That evening, she cut another ribbon to measure her breast. When the ribbon could not be forced to meet the following morning, she cried in despair. The spell had failed. She could not help but measure her breasts daily for the rest of the week, in vain hope that Elrond’s magic would start to over power the orc’s. But it never happened.
By the third week, she had to ask her handmaids to let out her gowns. She had continued to force herself into her clothes but by now her enlarging boobs threatened to rip even the high quality elvish silk. Though it shamed her even more, she instructed her maids to pad the bosom of her gowns so that her nipples would not embarrass her so much when they stiffened, as they did at the slightest touch or breeze.
Her enlarging bosom also brought back nightly dreams of her actions in the orc lair. She dreamed of the great cock in her mouth, stretching her pussy, bruising her ass. She tasted in her dreams the orc-king’s seed and felt its gooey passage on her face and body. During the day, it was becoming more difficult to keep her gaze from the warrior’s crotches and from the stallion’s crotches as well.
By the fourth week, she came to realize that she enjoyed her new breasts. She enjoyed the covert looks from both males and females. She enjoyed the heft to them as she moved and took to giving her step an extra edge so that she could feel them bounce. She liked the feel of one breast rubbing heavily against the other, something her previous apple-sized breasts could never manage. Perhaps most of all, she loved to rub her nipples. Although she had precious few moments of privacy in which to explore the feeling, they seemed to be as sensitive as her clit. Twice she had been able to come while fondling them.
But despite the pleasure she found in her new bosom, she could tell that Elrond’s patience was drawing to end. On the third day after the failed spell, she had mumbled something about how the orc shaman had been an ancient, seasoned magician (a lie, of course, she had never seen a shaman). Elrond had replied briskly that 40 years old or 80, an orc shaman knew nothing compared to his ages of study. He had started to say something more but held his tongue. All the same, she knew what he had almost said. Willingly accepted magic was not so easily broken. Thereafter, his previous understanding and patience seemed to fade with each day.
And how willing was she now, she thought? She could tell herself that she had asked for this during the heat of the magic draught; that she was not truly responsible. That was true enough. But now that she enjoyed the feel of her massive breasts, how unwilling could she pretend to be? She still checked the size of her breasts with trepidation every day but once the check was done, she also caressed those same breasts and teased those growing nipples.
One more thought came to her, one more confirmation of her depravity. It concerned the ice cream. It was a simple enough pleasure enjoyed by the entire household. But it came to her that the orcs had fed her milk when they were growing her breasts. And her breasts had not started growing again until ice cream came to Rivendell. It must have been the cream that had restarted the process.
When the link at first occurred to her, she had stopped eating ice cream immediately. And her breasts had ceased growing, or at least slowed greatly. It was hard to tell. But the tickle of cream on her tongue and the pleasure of a weighty bosom brought her back to the ice cream from time to time. The growth of her breasts slowed but it did not cease.
By winter, there was a tension in Rivendell unlike any time before. When away from their lord and lady, the elves marveled at the coldness that had grown between them and puzzled at why Elrond could do nothing about his wife’s unseemly bosom. While it was clear to the elves that Celebrian did not mind her huge breasts, it obviously caused Elrond much disgust.
Celebrian and Elrond had stopped sleeping in the same chamber. When first brought from the caves she was too ashamed and dirty feeling to consider sex with him. Now she no longer felt that way, but Elrond was too disgusted by his wife’s behavior to do the act now. In any case, Celebrian doubted that Elrond’s puny member could satisfy her the way the orc-king’s did nightly in her dreams.
The separate chambers also gave her plenty of time to work the triple pleasure centers of her nipples and clit. She was happy enough, happy enough except for the burning desire to fill her mouth, pussy and ass again with a huge, throbbing member. Only the horses in Rivendell could satisfy that need and she had not yet grown depraved enough to try that although the thought frequently crossed her mind.
At winter’s end, her breasts were the size of cantaloupes. They were firm and perched high unlike anything that a human or orc could manage. For one they were still young and had not felt the touch of gravity. But with her elf-body, they would never sag much. They would only soften a little in time and move from the great, jiggly half-sphere they were now to something more pendant but still firm.
Like most elves, Celebrian was slight of build, though tall. On her slight frame, her breasts looked even larger than they would have on a human or orc-female.
Her nipples were the only thing that really bothered her. They were
big, too big even for her large breasts. When aroused they stood out two
inches, not quite straight out since they could never stiffen as much as
a cock, but straight enough. Even under the padded cloth of her gown her
nipples could be easily seen when firm: they lay flat against her skin
under the cloth like a fat worm. She detested the look but there was little
she could do about it.
A traveler named Manet came to Rivendell one evening. He asked for and received an audience although he seemed to have little to report or provide, merely some vague promise of silk from distant Harad. Celebrian noticed that the man seemed a bit orcish. She had heard of mix-breeds before, products of orc males and human females but had never seen one. The rest of the household noticed it as well and he was received politely but briefly.
The next morning she took a walk alone along a river path. She rarely walked unattended but half hoped to bump into Manet. She was intrigued by his possible orcish heritage. The path ran beneath the visitor’s quarters and there was some chance she might see him or be seen.
On her return down the path she paused at stone landing overlooking the river. It was very near the guest-house. She was about to fluff her hair and preen a little in hopes of gaining the visitor’s attention when she noticed a small bundle of black silk lying on the flagstone. She picked it up and examined it. Her heart leapt into her throat and her cheeks flushed brilliant red: it was her garment from the orc-lair or something much like it. It was the pair of straps with cross-pieces that had fit from shoulder to pubes. There was also a small, black wooden stick of some sort with it as well. She hurriedly gathered both items.
What could it mean? She wondered. It had to have come from the stranger. Was she in danger? Did he mean to somehow expose her? Or was it a gift?
Before hurrying off, she looked to the guest house and noticed him smiling from an upper window. He had clearly seen her gather the little bundle. He seemed to be smiling pleasantly. Perhaps it was merely a gift, however bizarre.
Back in her chambers, she had an urge to put on the silk garment but she resisted. No good could come of it she thought.
She examined the wooden stick that had come with the bundle. It was about the size of her erect nipple, two inches long and less than half an inch wide. But it differ from her nipple because it also had a small bulb at one end. It was made of highly polished wood, stained black.
It reminded her of the goblin-king’s cock. The thought brought a warmth to her pussy and hardened her nipples enough that they tried vainly to rise underneath the heavy padded cloth of her gown, forming a little tent. She rubbed the stick between her fingers. She sniffed it. It had no scent. She put it down by the silk garment.
She would have to destroy both items. But how?
She picked the stick up and again and walked around the room in thought. Her thought first turned on how to remove the items but it soon found its way to orc-king and his cock. She idly ran the round end of the stick across her lips while she thought.
In a split second she felt the wood swell in her hands and become weighty. It’s growing mass pushed firmly against her head, sending her hand that still held great the object back in compensation. She looked down in surprise at a great orc cock, much like the king’s.
At its base, the ‘stick’ was still wood-like although now two inches across. But half-way down its 18 inch length, it had become fleshy. It was stiff like an erect cock but fleshy all the same. Like the king’s cock, the shaft was gray and warty but the head was wider and perfectly smooth.
She flung the thing to the ground. It fell parallel to her. Then the thing flexed and rolled so that the glans pointed towards her. She pushed it away. Again it re-oriented itself towards her. It lay there like a fat one-eyed snake, staring at her.
Though a part of her longed to try out this pleasing mass of orc-flesh, she knew she had to be rid of it. Thumping about like it did, it would surely betray her. She gingerly picked it up by the woody end. The glans was near her mouth. For a moment, her mouth opened and her tongue flicked towards the rod but she quelled that instinct.
She put on the cape she had worn during her morning walk and put the silk garment and the magic cock beneath it. As she made for the door, the cock began to flex widely. It bucked almost enough to break her grip. What if she dropped it on the way? It would fall to the ground and point at her no matter where she ran. And even if she held on, someone would ask her what caused her clothes to gyrate so wildly.
She sat on the bed and pulled it out again. Like a real orc cock, this one also had thick veins that pulsed across the shaft. Her nightly rendezvous in her dreams with the king’s cock played before her eyes in vivid color. She was disgusted by the fat rod. But she also lounged for it.
"Perhaps it will shrink back to stick size if I pleasure it?" she wondered out loud.
She licked the tip of it while holding the base with both hands. The touch of her tongue sent a quiver through it. It tasted salty like the orc-king’s. She ran one hand up the warty shaft remember the times she had stroked the king the same way.
She put the cock on the bed while she removed her clothes. Freed of her padded gown, her nipples stuck out at a slight downward angle. She wanted to experience the rod's touch all over her body, particularly between her fine, massive breasts. As before, the shaft had oriented itself towards her while she disrobed.
Celebrian grabbed the instrument by the base. She lay back on the bed and placed the member between her breasts. She stared at the one-eyed monster resting between her firm mounds and felt a rush of anticipation that she had not felt since her last draught of the king’s potion.
The cock seemed to rest perfectly between her breasts. She forced them together by flexing her arms in. They gripped the rod in a gelatinous vice. She could feel the warts against her breast-skin. Her two inch nipples waggled like little flag poles in the wind.
Her tongue reached out to the cock-tip again. She pushed it a little higher between her breasts so that she could take the bulb in her mouth. She felt its fleshy tip, pursed her lips on the lip of the glans. She felt the mass of the great cock-head in her mouth and the start of the shaft beyond. It was like her dreams only better. It was real.
She began to work the cock deeper into her mouth. She had to raise it from her breasts, of course. She tipped her head back so that it could slide down her throat. It passed deep within her without a gag or choke. She had not lost her technique.
She worked it in and out of her throat and mouth. She plunged it so deep she could barely keep a grip before pulling it out completely so that her lips and tongue could also work the bulb each stroke. She took the bulb noisily, slurping and cooing at it.
It was an act she could have performed for hours except for a surprise: the cock came. In a torrent that the orc-king had never exceeded, great gouts of cum squirted from the tip at the top of one of her strokes. It filled her open mouth immediately and sent twin streaks of goo running to either side of her chin. The pulse of the cock surprised her and she lost her aim. Subsequent spouts sent cum flying all over her face and chest, into her hair and all over the bed.
When it had ceased spouting, the cock lay limp between her breasts. Her upper body was coated in what had to be several pints of the hot, sticky goo. She sat up, still shocked by the event. Cum ran down her body and pooled around her twat. The cock seemed just as heavy as ever. Where could the jizz have come from?
She looked at cum splattered around her. She smelled its musky odor. And she was terrified. How could she hide this mess?
There was nothing to do but eat it. She began to scoop it from the puddles on the sheets but the gooey stuff kept sliding from her hands. She to turned over on hands and knees and began to suck it from the bed. Her great tits bobbed beneath her as she sucked, her nippled dragging through the semen when she dipped low for a good slurp.
When the sheets were as clean as licking could get them, she turned to the semen that remained on her. She scraped it from her body with the back of a comb then worked it from her hair with the same come. All of it went into her stomach.
By the end, her stomach sloshed with semen, the room still stunk and the sheet was soaked but no puddles remained. She rolled the soiled cloth into a bundle. Then she did her toilette again, using elvish arts to remove the tangles from her hair and the scent of orc-semen from her body. She burned incense in the room to mask the odor. A good nose would find the musky scent but it was the best she could do.
The magic-cock had not shrunk after spending itself. If anything it seemed bigger. As before it oriented itself to point at her wherever she went. She picked it up and put into a drawer. She half expected it to start thumping within the drawer but it remained silent. It was satiated for now.
She managed to toss the soiled sheets into a laundry pot without being noticed. Back in her room, she contemplated her position. Her husband despised her. Her breasts were the marvel of all Middle-earth. And despite the shame, the hot taste of jizz in her mouth had her aroused. If it weren’t for the difficulty of cleaning the mess, she would suck the cock dry again this instant. But it did make a mess. And what was she supposed to do when it demanded attention again, which surely it would at some point?
At that point, she heard a knock at her door.
"Who is it?" she asked.
"My lady, it is Manet, the traveler from the south."
Her heart raced. She did not know how he could have evaded the guards posted in this part of Rivendell. And though he must surely be the architect of the current fix she was in, she had no choice but to talk to him. Her position was untenable.
"Come in," she said.
Manet walked into the room. Close up, the orcish-cast was unmistakable. He wasn’t half-orc but the orc blood was at least quarter true. His nostrils were flared and upturned in the hint of the orc-pig nose. His ears were hooded and stood from his skull at an angle though he artfully masked that to some extent with his hair. But the most telling feature were his eyes. His yellow eyes had the same look of contempt and lust that the orc-king had.
He snorted as he sniffed the air.
"I can’t see your friend but I can smell his handiwork," he said. "But with luck the less sensitive noses of your fellow elves may miss it."
"What do you want, Manet?"
"I had wanted to torment you, of course. But I am in a bind now. You husband and his guard are after me, for nothing more than a few jewels. I need a way out, one of the secret ways from Rivendell. You will show me."
"I can’t," she said. "They have been kept secret since the beginning. I’ll show you another way."
"No, there is no other way. You will show me or when your husband finds me in your room, my cock will be out and so will the magic one you’ve hidden somewhere around here."
"’Please, nothing! You will do it!" he said with a leer. "Actually, you will please me, then you will show the me way out. Make it quick, bitch, there isn’t much time."
He pulled his member from his pants. It was still partly limp, but Celebrian could tell that the orc bloodline ran truest in his cock. It had the same shiny bulb and warty shaft. The only the difference from it and the orc-king’s as she watched in surprise and growing pleasure was that it dwarfed both the king’s and the magic cock by its two foot length. The bulb was four inches across, sitting on a 3 inch shaft. It was immense. And she had to accept it into her mouth.
She took the head of the cock in both hands and pressed her lips to it. Could she take it in her mouth? It seemed too big.
With both hands on the shaft to control its entry, she forced it into her. Her jaws screamed with pain and her lips nearly split. But in the bulb popped. Once in she forced it down her throat slowly, feeling her way and fearful of injury. She felt it stretch and fill her like nothing before. With confidence she begin to work up and down the shaft. She kept the bulb in her mouth, uncertain that she could easily take it again if it slipped out. With one hand gripping the magnificent, rock hard shaft, she slid the other to his balls. They were weighty but not nearly as big as the orc kings. Good, she thought, I can swallow his seed entirely; there should be no mess to clean.
Celebrian worked for maximum speed, working the head with her tongue, lips and the back of her throat. Soon, she sensed the coming orgasm. She pulled the bulb nearly out of her mouth and sucked hard and noisily while stroking the glans-edge with both hands. With a groan, Manet came. Celebrian skillfully caught his entire load in her mouth. It was big, two mouthfuls but she managed a swallow between spurts. No mess this time.
She stood up.
"That was well done, Celebrian. You are a most accomplished cum-drinker. Now show me the passage."
"I will but you must take the magic-cock with you."
"Very well. Hand it over."
She fished it from the drawer. It shrank back to a small stick in his hand.
"Are you sure you don’t want it? I can show you how to command it," he said, dangling it in front of her.
She was more tempted than she should have been but she shook her head. She felt her heavy bosom sway from side to side with shake. Her nipples were still erect beneath the gown.
"Then let’s go," he said.
Celebrian took Manet to a secret passage that ran from Elrond’s chamber beneath a hill to a hidden exit. It was a passage that none but elves had walked since the founding of Rivendell. Now Celebrian showed it to an orc-bastard that she had just serviced moments before.
That evening, she begged off from the nightly gathering in the main hall and took her dinner in her room. She had to. Her body still tingled with the dual blow-job she had given. If she didn’t come herself, then she feared her nipples must burst through her gown and the scent of her steaming pussy fill the room. She came to climax five times with various combinations of pairs of nipples and clit in each hand.
When she had finished, she sent for ice cream. Lots of it.
In the days that came, she abandoned the regimen of moderate ice cream that had kept her breast-growth to something manageable and indulged herself. What did it matter, she thought? Sooner or later Manet would return with his magic cock and continue whatever blackmail had been interrupted by his flight. She was doomed. She might as well enjoy herself.
Her breasts resumed their rapid growth. By summer when the orcs stormed up the secret passage and attacked Elrond in his chamber, they were approaching watermelon size.
That morning, before the attack, Celebrian gazed at her naked breasts in the mirror. Her hands stroked their great length. She cupped them and hefted their mass. She felt her fat nipples in the palm of her hand beneath the weight of her boobs. They felt like hot worms. Her nipples began to flex and grow as the warmth grew in her belly. They slipped from between her fingers and swelled to their full mass. Though not as firm as a man’s cock, they still had a rubbery rigidity. They also had the size and breadth of a cock, at least a larger elvish one: her nipples were now an inch across and seven inches long. Bigger than that bitch she-orc’s nipples, she thought smugly.
With her massive breasts hanging down to her waist and two penis-like members dropping further still, she knew she looked grotesque. Her breasts would have been grotesque on any frame, even a fat she-orc but on her otherwise slim 5’ 10" height they were worse. Her lovely face stared back her from the mirror. Once, that high-cheeked, violet-eyed visage would have caught the gaze of any male. Now, all they saw were her boobs. Some still gazed appreciatively at them, mostly the human traders. But few did. Many even had the temerity to gape in appalled wonder.
She no longer cared. Her husband despised her and sought some way to banish her. Her handmaidens came near her only when absolute duty required. They had long ago given up trying to handsomely cloth her bosom and now only gave her tent-like shirts. And the court had become mute and silent every evening she went to the hall. She rarely did so now. Instead, she spent her days staring out the window. Looking like a maiden in need of rescue except for her lascivious stares at any stallion that happened to drop its cock in her sight.
She loved her breasts. They were sensitive from tip to root. Their heft she found erotic. The nipples were pleasure foci that now out-performed her clit. She even took pleasure from the blue veins that spread from the aureola, stark beneath her alabaster skin. They were somehow both disgusting and erotic, like the thick veins that had pulsed on the orc king’s cock.
Celebrian turned sideways to the mirror and got onto all fours. Even with her back straight and high, her breasts rested firmly on the ground, her nipples embraced in the warm bulk of her flesh. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her breasts were fat and full. They did not stretch to her waist because they were empty, sagging bags. No, they were still firm and voluminous. They even flexed outwards a bit when she put more weight on them; definitely not the sign of flab. They looked like firm pillars, as thick as her thighs. She realized that she looked like a strange six-legged beast and laughed.
She rolled onto her back, positioning each breast with both hands to avoid rolling on to one. Movement had begun to require special planning. Rolling over in bed, or swinging around a corner in the palace, both had their risks these days.
In the mirror she looked something like a mother nursing two huge, plump worms. A breast lay on either side of her, fat and round. She reached down and began to stroke her nipples. They hardened a little more. Still not cock-hard but firm all the same. Firm and tender, her body reminded her with a shudder.
She reached down and hefted one breast towards her mouth with both hands so that she could suck the nipple. The breast sat heavy and warm against her face, almost smothering her as she sucked the fat nipple. An inch breadth of nipple was no broad orc cock but it was sweet all the same. Plus it had the added benefit of satisfying her mouth and body at the same time. For a few minutes she worked the nipple in and out by grasping her breast in both hands and heaving. She glanced at the mirror and smiled at the image: she had one breast splayed out on the floor beside her and teased the nipple of the other in her small, pert mouth.
Holding her breast in place with her grip on the nipple, she worked the other breast towards her pussy. She could get the nipple to dangle onto her open, wet lips but the angle was wrong for inserting it. She rolled her weight onto her upper back so that her ass was in the air and her feet hit the ground behind her ears. The nipple in her mouth fell out as she crunched her stomach. The breast was too big to remain in the confined space between twat and head and it fell to the side like the other.
For a time she looked into the lavender lips of her pussy. It glistened with her moisture. She worked her clitoris free from its fold and flicked it casually. Too bad it had not grown with her nipples: she could have given herself a blowjob. She caught a falling drop of her pussy juice on her tongue.
Turning back to her breasts, she took the right one in both hands and put the nipple back into her mouth. The breast bulged in an arch. It was still firm enough that the bend was somewhat painful but she didn’t mind. She held it place with the firm grip of her lips on the nipple while she worked the other one upwards towards the twat that she could no longer see behind the mass of her right breast resting on her face.
Blindly, she worked the left nipple into her slit. It slid in easily, her pussy was still quite wide from her exercise with the orc-king as well as the magic cock. It slid around a bit in her soaking pussy but it would do. Gingerly, she moved one hand back to her right breast so that each now had a hand to work it. Each breast required two to position it accurately but with care she could work one nipple in and out of her slurping mouth while the other made its own wet, splashing sound in her cunt.
If she was back in the orc lair, she would be calling herself "titty-sucker" and "booby-fucker" she thought with a laugh. She almost said it out-loud but she feared losing her hold on her right breast. She look at herself in the mirror again. Rolled on her back, legs touching behind her head, a boob stuffed in her twat and another in her mouth: she looked like a one-elf orgy.
She worked both nipples into their respective orifices. The one in her twat was too loose to give more than a pleasant warmth but the one her mouth she sucked hard. Rings of pleasure radiated from the great, dick-sized teat. Her body tensed with coming orgasm. With three bucks, she came hard. A few more sucks on the teat in her mouth, another few plunges into her twat and she was spent for the moment. She rolled to her side and let her massive breasts unlimber to wherever they wanted to fall.
"I’m a shameless whore," she said to herself. She felt a faint twinge of remorse and true shame, but not much. She was long past the point of real regret.
Celebrian let a hand travel from hip to shoulder and onto her right breast. It gave her a thrill to contrast her still slim, tight ass and stomach to the great, plump breast. While she lay naked on the floor of her room, she heard the thump of hard, hob-nailed soles. Instantly, she recognized the sound as that of orc-boots.
She rose and threw her nightgown over her. It was sheer garment that hid nothing of her flesh. She had just donned the garment when Manet threw the door open. Manet’s sword was out and dripped with blood. Behind him were four orcs leering at her in surprise and wonder.
"My lady Celebrian," he said. "I think you should come with us."
She shook her head but it was an unconvincing display.
"Put on your boots," he said.
He walked to the bed and cleaned his sword on her bed-sheets.
"It’s the blood of Elrond," he said looking up at her with unconcealed glee. "My name will live forever because of that act."
He watched her lace up her boots. She could tell from the bulge in his crotch that her slim, shapely leg with her foot on the chair aroused him, despite or in addition to the great breasts that nearly dragged the floor under her gown as she bent to her task.
Grabbing one of her cloaks from a rack by the door, he tossed it to her and pushed her out ahead of him.
"We must hurry, Lady," he said. "We have won a great victory but we can not stay to challenge all the host of Rivendell."
With the escort of orcs, she and Manet hurried to he secret passage and through the damp tunnel to where more orcs and great wargs waited. There were also more half-orcs like Manet mounted on great horses as well as many of the small wood-goblins.
Manet set her in front of him on his great war horse and the troop set off west on the road to the Misty Mountains.
The elves pursued and slew many but disoriented by the wounding of Elrond, they were not effective enough to overtake Manet’s party.
Celebrian tried to master her thoughts as she rode again into the den of the orcs, this time willingly. She was ruined, cursed, depraved beyond redemption, she told herself. And no little voice in her head disagreed. No shred of conscious could contradict: the yearning in her loins and her mouth, even in her ass were too clear a proof of her complete fall. She worked her ass firmly against Manet’s crotch and smiled as she felt his cock grow hard.
When Manet and his troop had ridden their horses to the breaking point, Manet transferred her to a warg and pushed on. Her thighs were chaffed from the horse blanket but her huge tits ached even more from the endless jostling. The warg was a smoother ride but did little to ease her pains.
When the second dawn after the raid came, the troop finally paused for break. Celebrian fell fast asleep where Manet put her after taking her from the warg. That evening when the troop roused to continue, she dimly remembered various members of the troop leering at her while she dozed fitfully, some even jerking off in front of her. But not on her. Manet was saving her for something.
More days of hard riding and poor sleep passed. She lost count of the days. No one molested her, not even Manet who had forced himself on her before. As aching and exhausted as she was, her body coursed with unrelieved sexual tension. By her last days at Rivendell, she had been using her teats to give herself six or more orgasms a day. Now a week or more without release, her nipples were always at least semi-hard and she yearned for release on any of the cocks around her, orc, half-orc or beast. But Manet’s will proved greater than her lustful gazes at the males around her. Manet even moved her to a she-warg when he saw her eyeing her warg’s penis one morning.
In time they reached the orc-lairs of the Misty Mountains. Here the orcs were strong enough that many camped outside, beyond the caves. On her she-warg, Manet led her past camps of staring orc-matrons, orc-children, past sullen, castrated human male-slaves, past broken human female-slaves, some with great breasts as big as her own but pendulous and stretched. There were names and catcalls, and spitting like before. And of course, there were endless orc-cocks proffered. She could not help but smile at the cocks.
Manet brought her at last into the mouth of a great cave and into a large, natural cavern lit by many rushes. A great many orcs were gathered in the dim, smoky chamber. At the center was a wooden throne and a great, crowned orc. Behind the orc-king were twelve orc-warriors, looking as splendid as orc warriors could manage in their heavy, stiff leather armor and draped with looted gold.
Manet pushed her to kneel at the foot of the throne. She did so and placed her forehead on the rock floor, although she had to position her breasts to each side to allow her forehead to reach.
"My king, the great and mighty Ithguk, lord of all the orc-host, king of kings," began Manet. "I have brought you Celebrian, Elrond-wife, elf-queen to do with as you please."
He gestured needlessly at the prostrate Celebrian. The king smiled at her slim ass high in the air and her breasts splayed out beside her.
"She seems to have been properly trained, Manet. Your work?"
"Only a little your highness. But she is ready and eager for your will. Anything you want."
The king gestured for one of his attendants to bring a small chest forward.
"Manet, take the chest and the gold within it as a gift for bringing this elf-bitch."
Ithguk turned his attention back to Celebrian.
She rose to her feet. It was a labored task with the mass of her breasts but she managed it without assistance.
"You answer to ‘whore’ I see," the king said. "What other names do you answer to?"
"Any that the king chooses for me."
"Any?" he said to himself with a snort of satisfaction from his pig nose. He stroked his clawed hand along the great jut of his jaw. He ran his fat tongue over each tusk. He could feel the warmth stir in his cock although it was still hidden under his loin cloth.
"You drank the bitch-draught when you were captured before?" he asked.
"How many times?"
She thought for a moment. "Three or four times your highness."
"What else did they do to you?"
Celebrian kept her eyes on the floor but her cheeks did not burn with shame. Instead she felt a certain pride.
"They placed a dildo in my ass so that I could take the king’s cock. The king fucked me in the ass and pussy many times. And a took his cock in my mouth many times."
She raised her eyes to him in a challenge when she finished the recital. The king nodded in thought.
"Then you can name yourself, bitch?"
"Yes, my king. I am cock-sucker, knob-licker, semen-drinker, titty-fucker, teat-sucker. I am a whore, a bitch who begs the seed of the king. I am cock-worshipper, ball-holder, sucker of my king’s salty gifts. I wish to drink every drop in your cock. I want to feel your great seed fill my mouth, spill down my face and on to my unworthy boobs. I am the cock-whore, the ball-queen, the seed-drinker."
Celebrian spoke in a clear voice that filled the chamber. The crowd murmured in appreciation and anticipation.
"Very well trained, I see, cock-sucker. Now prove it on this," he said revealing his massive cock. "Pleasure me like no other and you may be my queen. Otherwise, I will throw you into the warg den where the studs will rape you and the bitches will rip you."
The king had revealed a cock that was more magnificent than any save a great war-horse’s. It was at least two feet long, four inches wide at the base tapering to three inches at the great head. The head itself was a great, irregular ball four inches across, shiney put mottled pink and black. The shaft was ridged with large, pulsing veins and pebbled with many warts and moles, in some places forming continuous mats.
Slowly, Celebrian walked forward to the king, working her hips to send jiggles through her breasts and ass. At the king, she let her gown fall from her so that she was dressed only in her boots. She ran a hand along each breast and worked her nipples as hard as they had ever been, just short of a sheen like the orc-king’s glans.
With one hand on a teat, she worked the other into her twat, teasing her lips apart and down before ramming her fist into herself. She worked herself for a few minutes, not paying much attention to her own body but more intent on the king. She watched his eyes on her, worked her teat when his gaze turned to her breast, worked her twat when his gaze fell lower.
Without a word or a touch, she had brought an ache to the king’s balls and his cock to rock hardness.
Still standing, she reached for the king’s cock with both hands. She gasped in pleasure at the feel of the rough, pulsing shaft in her hands. Her small hands could barely span the shaft. She moved her hands to the bulb and cupped it like a precious object. She reached down with her tongue to flick the tip. The motion caused her breasts to swing forward like battering rams so that she fell against his cock. The king grunted in displeasure.
Hurrying on, she licked the tip of his cock, tasting the clear salty liquid that had already come to gather their. Keeping one had near the head, she ran the other hand down the shaft to the root. Following downward, she found the scrotum and hanging very far down were two huge gonads. She gave a moan of surprised pleasure as her hand explored the heft and size of the great stones. They were bigger by far than the last king. Her body quivered in anticipation of the gift they would bring forth.
Cradling a ball in the one hand, she began to work the king’s cock in her mouth. She had to force her jaws open to the point of sharp pain but she ignored it. She had to please the king.
She took the head of the king’s shaft in and out of her mouth. She could not keep her teeth from almost biting the king, so big was his cock, she tried to ease the member as much as she could with her lips and tongue. Abandoning the struggle with the bulb, she took the cock deeper into her throat. She felt only a brief gag as she drove the cock far into her, burying the huge member within her. She dimly heard a collective gasp of appreciation from the crowd at her feat.
She kept the king within her until she could hold her breath no longer then rose for a gasp through her nostrils before diving on him again, leaving the cock in her mouth. Her jaw sent stabs of pain through her head and her king’s great cock threatened to choke her. She would have liked to take longer but she did not think she could manage it yet. She increased the pace of her dives on his cock and worked his balls smoothly. In a moment, she felt his ball quiver.
With a jerk, she pulled from him so that he could come in her gaping mouth. And come he did in a great wash. His piss-hole was huge, big enough for her to put her little finger into it. The flood of goo that came from it was like nothing she had experienced before. In two great spurts, her mouth was full to choking and a pint was splashed on her face and running down her breasts. The king spurted three more times leaving her with another pint sprayed on her. She only managed a few quick swallows before the king was through.
"Not bad," he said a little shakily. "The teeth will have to go but not bad."
The king stood from his throne and gestured for her to bend over. She could tell he was somewhat spent himself and seemed to be about to fuck her more for the principle than for lust. She didn’t care; she could tell she had won him. But what did he mean about her teeth?
The king quickly fucked her twice, once in the pussy, once in the ass. It was somewhat perfunctory but she still felt filled nonetheless. Although she did not cum, she did provide plenty of moans and grunts for the king’s benefit.
Ithguk returned heavily to his throne. Cum seemed to drip continuously from her face and body. After a few moments of rest, he spoke to her.
"Celebrian, I offer you a seat at my side. While you be my Queen?"
"Yes, my king."
"Before you accept, know that you must pleasure all the males of my honor guard," said the King.
Celebrian could tell by the looks of pleasure the orcs behind the king and the looks of jealousy on the rest of the crowd that he meant the 12 orc warriors standing behind the throne.
"I agree my king."
"Very well," said the king with satisfaction. "Bring the lesser throne and place it on my right and bring the queen’s jewel box."
Attendants dragged a smaller wooden throne to the side of the king and brought up a fair-sized coffer. The king reached into the coffer and fished around for a few items.
"Come here Celebrian."
When she approached, he placed a necklace around her head. He pierced her earlobes each with an earring. He then placed a crown on her head. Finally, he gave her a hand mirror to admire her jewels.
The crown was a ring of panels. Each panel depicted a sex act. One showed a woman taking an orc cock into her mouth, another showed the woman servicing a horse. A third showed the women being fucked in the ass. The crown was of fine gold, the reliefs well depicted and accented with small cabochons. She liked the way the crown sat on her semen drenched face.
Next she turned to the earrings. These each dangled a two inch cock carved in alabaster from gold studs. The cocks had knotted shafts and bulb heads like the king’s cocks. She shook her head to make the cocks dance and smiled at the effect.
Lastly, she examined the necklace. It was another cock, this one carved in ebony but much larger than the earrings: it was a full one foot long and three inches wide at the head. It hung on a plain silver chain. The base of the cock was plainly visible at the dip in her throat but the head was lost in the depths of her cleavage. She squeezed the necklace-cock between her breasts and turned to the king.
"Magnificent, my king. Celebrian your cock-whore is most grateful for your gifts."
"There are more to come, Celebrian," said the king.
"Bring the whore’s apple," he said to his attendants.
They returned with a piece of wood, cut and painted to look something like an apple. It was about the size of the king’s cock-head. It looked like it had been gouged and repainted many times. There was an iron loop set in its base.
"Bite into this," the king said, as he handed it to her.
She dutifully bit into the wood. She expected to fine it hard and unyielding but her teeth sank easily into it. It was big enough that she was now stuck with this wooden apple in her mouth. Before she could wonder how she was going to extricate it, the king put a clawed finger through the loop and pulled it free.
With a searing pain, the apple came free with all her teeth still stuck in it. Blood rain from her mouth and mixed with the semen on her chin and breasts. Celebrian staggered with the pain and almost blacked out.
She was barely aware of the king giving orders when someone poured a cool draught down her throat. At once the pain vanished and with her tongue, she could feel that her gums were healed. For the first time since coming to the king’s lair, she now felt despair. What would she look like with no teeth? She had seen the human-crones gumming their jaws. She shuddered.
"Fear not, little elf-bitch," said the king. "In time we will give you new teeth. After you have become used to your new mouth and after your gums have become properly fleshy."
She nodded dumbly.
"That’s enough for one day. Tomorrow you service my guard."
Manet lead her to an underground cell furnished with an acceptable straw bed and a place to clean. He also left her with a piece of black root.
"Chew it continuously," he told her. "It will soften your gums so that you can please the king."
She feel asleep chewing the root and running her fingers through her ruined mouth. In the middle of the night, she woke and used the dildo on her necklace to bring herself to climax for the first time in many days. She fell asleep again working the nipple of one of her breasts.
In the morning, Manet took her back to the great hall. A ragged cushion was thrown at her feet. She was still naked, except for her boots, from the day before although she had been able to clean.
One by one, the king’s twelve guards came to her. For each of them, she knelt on the cushion and sucked their cocks dry. The twelve orcs were all tall, strapping orcs but their cocks varied from the simply large at 10 inches to almost as monstrous as the king’s. All had the now familiar rough shaft and smooth head.
After the first two, her stomach was full of semen and she let rest of the cum wash over her body. By the twelfth one, 2 hours later, she was drenched in pints of cum. The cushion was soaked through and a puddle a few feet across surrounded her.
The king and most of the crowd had watched the spectacle of the elf-bitch with the huge tits servicing the king’s guard but Celebrian had been oblivious to most of the commotion and calls after the first few minutes. It had become backbreaking, jaw-aching work supporting both her great breasts while draining each of the long cocks. But the lack of teeth had made the work easier.
When she finished the 12 blowjobs, the king let her take her throne next to his. In the following hour, a few orcs came before the king on miscellaneous business while slaves, human females, served the two of them food and drink. Celebrian’s stomach was still full of goo so she took little for herself. She gummed her black-root instead with her toothless mouth.
After a while she was rested enough to notice the slaves. They had been ill-used as could be expected. All had had their breasts enlarged like Celebrian’s although none were quite as huge as she was.
One, a dark haired girl with empty eyes had four rings piercing each great teat and four chains running between each. Other rings pierced her labia from which heavy weights hung, stretching her nether-lips six inches. She had more rings in her nose and lips so that it looked to Celebrian that breathing and drinking must be a challenge for the poor girl.
A second girl had had her nose somehow enlarged to the size of a pendulous apple. A little teat had been teased from the tip so that she had a third breast on her face.
The most interesting girl to Celebrian was one with tattoos all over her body. These were not geometrical or simple markings but instead were detailed, well-drawn images of penises and breasts, women being fucked by orcs, giants and animals. A tattoo under the woman’s left breast was arranged so that it looked like a penis driving into a mouth as her breasts bobbed with her walked. She noticed that many of the tattoos were arranged so that the motion of her buttocks, eyelids, jaw and breasts animated little scenes of depravity.
After the break, the 12 guards-orcs returned and each fucked her first in the pussy and then in the ass. This process took longer as many of the guards did not have the king’s stamina. She was able to chew her blackroot all the while since her mouth was not occupied that afternoon. In the evening she returned to the king’s side except for when she gave him two blowjobs.
The next morning, the 12 returned again. She prepared to begin the process of giving them blowjobs but the king had his attendants bring a sloped table. She leaned back into it and the guards proceeded to fuck her long, fat breasts. This was something new for her and arousing at first although she tired of it before half way through.
In the afternoon, she was again surprised when 12 wargs were brought before her.
"What is the meaning of this, my king?" she asked.
"You agreed to service all the males in my guard. Each of my guards rides a male warg."
"You do not defy the king, my little cock-sucker? Surly, not?"
She shook her head. Of course, not, she thought, she was far beyond resistance.
She walked to the first warg. His yellow eyes had cold, animal hunger in them. The warg would just as happily devour her as let her service him. Slowly, she reached for his neck. His fur was rough and wiry. She began to stroke him, running her hands down his great length. The warg was as large as a large horse with shoulders as high as her own. She glanced to check his cock and could not see it. She let her breasts rub along the warg. That produced a reaction: she could see the red tip of his member protrude from his sheath.
Gaining confidence, she reached for his balls and fondled them while whispering her slut-names into his ear. She lisped with her missing teeth but the warg seemed to understand all the same. Whether it was the words or the fondling, the warg’s cock soon reached full length. It was an impressive 18 inches but narrow, less than 2 inches and a smooth, bright red.
Taking her pillow for her knees she knelt by the warg, took its cock in her mouth and quickly brought him to climax. His seed was thinner and more bitter than orc-seed but interesting all the same. She swallowed most of it and called for the next one.
After taking the 12 wargs in her mouth, she took each in her pussy. The next day, she took them each in her ass then titty-fucked the lot of them. She was getting proficient at mass fucking and finished the wargs by lunch. She was not terribly surprised to find that the 12 guards also each had a war-horse.
That afternoon and the next morning she serviced the 12 horses. Unlike the warg’s cocks, she found the horses suitably huge, almost too huge for any of her orifices. But although she ached by the end, she managed to satisfy all with mouth, pussy, ass and tits.
At lunch after the horses, she noticed that her belly was quite full and swollen with horse cum. Over the last few days, she had managed to take more and more of the semen into her stomach. At this morning’s titty-fuck with the horses she had of course missed most of each horse’s copious load but she had managed to swallow several quarts. It gave her a fat little belly nestled between her fat big breasts. She was also, of course, covered head to toe in semen with pounds of it matted into her long, silver hair.
When food was brought, she nibbled at some softened carrots and realized that the black-root she had chewed as much as possible over the last few days had caused her once bony gums to get fleshy. They weren’t plump or swollen. Instead ribbons of fat flesh had formed that ran along her gums so that she almost had several smaller sets of gums. They cushioned her mouth nicely and seemed to make it all the more inviting for cocks of any size and owner.
When she gave the king a lunch-time blowjob, he also noticed her new gums.
"Very nice, mouth, cock-sucker. Time for your new teeth. I don’t care for the look of your face when you gum your jaws."
That afternoon an ancient female orc worked with her to size a pair of wooden teeth. Celebrian thought that the wooden teeth would be worse than none at all but let her do her work. The female left with the teeth.
The next morning, she expected to find that the 12 guards also had 12 pigs or chickens or some other such beast to be serviced but instead she found that her day was relatively idle. She only had to service the king twice with her mouth and a few more times with ass and pussy. She welcome the rest and enjoyed spending the day watching the king at his business while fondling her breasts, pussy and nipples. She brought herself to climax in front of the king and his orcs many times using her fingers or her dildo-necklace.
On the following day, her servicing of the king’s guard resumed. She learned in the next week that at least while the king’s forces were in camp, her life was to consist of an orc day, a warg day, a horse day and a day of rest. She and her 36 charges soon developed the routine necessary to service each set in a day but it did take her 10 hours each day of hard exercise.
After a few weeks, the elder orc-female returned with her teeth. To her surprise and pleasure, Celebrian found that the wooden form had been used to craft magical, ivory teeth that slipped over her by now very fleshy gums and give her a nice, nearly real set of teeth that she could even chew tough orc meat with.
In the months to come, she grew into her role in several ways. First, she learned to enjoy the role of queen and the honor the other orcs showed her, even the she-orcs. Second, she had grown to be quite the nymphomaniac and enjoyed the days of sucking and fucking. She learned to wear her crusty suit of jizz by day’s end with pride as well as enjoying the feel of a belly swelled by a quart of jizz. But more noticeably, from a literal growth point of view, she found her pussy quite enlarged by the horses. Her ass was also deeply sunken and stretched. Even her breasts were transformed by the daily action so that the inner side that clasped the 36 cocks every four days was shiny and the skin stretched.
These changes were nothing to Celebrian but badges of honor, tokens of her hard work. The king eventually had her clench a weight in her pussy and ass when it was not otherwise filled so that at least her muscles were tight and she could still adequately pleasure the guards and wargs. But otherwise, the weeks passed into months and then into years.
In time, the orc-king died and she was married as queen to the next king. Kings came and went in the dreamlike blur of her elvish life. Over the decades, a ritual arose around her marriage to each king involving protracted sucking and fucking, baths in jizz and ever more elaborate jewelry. Like the tattooed slave, now long dead, she came to have pornographic pictures drawn all over her body. There was a great, knobby cock spurting semen on one huge breast. Twats, mouths and cocks all over her body, many seeming to fuck when her breasts or other body parts moved. Even her eyelids had mouths that sucked cock when she blinked.
With the passage of kings and her growing proficiency, the king’s guard had grown to 24, all chosen for the size of their cocks. Her days were quite long but she could service each set of orcs, wargs and horses in a day still. It was non-stop fucking but she enjoyed it.
From captured elves, she learned that Elrond had survived Manet’s attack and that the elvish story was that she could not bear Middle Earth and had fled across the sea. It was a lie many times over, not the least because she reveled in the depravity and decadence of her life in the orc warrens.
After more centuries, she became accepted as the ruler, the unchanging center of the orc warrens. She was too busy servicing the king’s guard to really rule. But she was accorded first honors and consulted at the important decisions. Her servicing of the guard, she could, of course, have dispensed with but she enjoyed it far too much.
Three centuries after she serviced her first orc king, a visiting orc watched her performance for a week. He found it hard to recognize the elf under the fat breasts, distended by endless titty-fucks, the skin covered in obscene tattoos, the heavy jewelry of cocks and pussies, and the generally thick layer of semen coating her at most times. Her teats were now each a foot long and a two inches wide when aroused, as they almost always were. Somewhere along the centuries by magic or use, they had grown to where they could become as hard as a male’s cock. Her labia, still delicate lavender, hunger several feet down her thighs after so much use. Her pussy itself could easily swallow an orc’s arm although she could clench it tight around a dog’s cock if she wanted to.
She was thoroughly depraved and thoroughly pleased with her life.
Before he left, he calculated that she had given something on the order of two million blowjobs, two million pussy-fucks, two million ass-fucks and two-million titty-fucks. With her well trained orcs, wargs and horses, that was something like 2 million pints of semen, as well.
The orc shook his head in admiration before leaving. Who knew how many she would service before she was done? She could last for millennia.