A War of Lusts
I stepped with purpose along the hard-packed twin tracks of the narrow, tree covered road, the hot sun overhead reduced to an enjoyable warmth by the great flanking oaks' widely stretched boughs. I travelled light and needed little. A beautiful young woman could always find a meal, a drink, and a bed.
I was nearing my quarry's lair, if the whispers I'd been following were to be believed. During my long search for Archer Moonfall, I'd travelled far from my small, comfortable home in Neyvy. I'd started my journey south as the first tender shoots of spring's new growth broke ground, and now with summer's peak just past, the warmth of summer would soon release its grip to the chill of fall. I hoped to locate Moonfall soon because traveling in winter, when the roads were slick with mud and the days and nights were cold, would make my wanders much more arduous.
I knew only the warlock's name, or the name given to me by Hayre, my familiar, friend, and travel companion, and I was traveling from town to village in a meandering path as I followed gossip and innuendo. Whispers were now leading me to Burgthur, though I'd need additional directions to find the man I sought, if he was real, once I arrived. I also needed food, drink, and a place to sleep after my day's journey.
Ahead the forest thinned where it had been cut back, and as I neared the edge of the clearing, I could see a small farmhouse in the distance. I considered stopping and asking for shelter at the farm but decided to continue to Burgthur. I should reach the town before nightfall, and there I'd have more sources of information and could begin my search tonight. I continued without slowing, and less than two hour's walk beyond the farm, as the sun touched the tallest trees, the first buildings of Burgthur appeared. Burgthur claimed itself a town, but to my eye it was little more than a village. Town or village, at least it was large enough to have an inn so I wouldn't have to beg or barter for food and shelter.
I entered the Bard Elm Inn tired and hungry from my day of walking. Inside, the inn's tavern was large and well kept, with several of the heavy tables occupied with men eating a tempting looking brown stew full of meat, barley, and carrots, or socializing over mugs of beer. The happy murmur of voices died as I closed the door. A maiden traveling alone was highly unusual, and all eyes turned to me as I shrugged out of my travel cloak.
I moved to a table at the back of the room and took a chair, throwing my cloak over the back of another as I scanned the space, quickly realizing it was unlikely any of these men was the one I sought. After a moment, the rumble of conversation rose in volume as the barmaid approached. She was perhaps ten years older than my apparent age, heavily breasted and thick hipped, with her bodice tightly laced to force her breasts into plump mounds.
"Want something?" she asked as she glided to a stop at my table.
"Do you have rooms?"
"Yes. Two pence gets you a bed. Three gets you a private room."
I smiled at her. "How much for a bowl of that tasty looking pottage and a beer?"
"Two pence, but four pence will buy you a room, dinner, and drink."
"I'll take that."
"Do you have money?"
I reached into the tiny satchel slung around my shoulder, drew out four small coins, and dropped them on the table. The woman reached for the money, but I quickly placed my hand over them. "Dinner and draft, first," I murmured as I reached out and gently nudged her desire.
Her color rose as she smiled. "Of course. It won't be but a moment," she purred before she turned away.
I smiled as I scooped up the coins and dropped them back into my purse. They wouldn't be needed tonight. I was one of the chosen, able to use the power given to me by Hayre to influence people around me.
Eons ago the great demons lost the ability to directly affect events on earth. Their sole remaining capability rested in crafting familiars, demi-demons in animal form, and then reaping power in return from those the familiars enabled. It was the great circle. With an enormous expenditure of power, a great demon could create a familiar, who would then enable a human. As the human used the abilities given to them by their familiar, power beyond their ability to contain flowed back through the familiar to empower their great demon.
I didn't know how many chosen there were, nor how many great demons, nor how many disciplines were represented. I was a lust witch, able to use sexual temptation and lust to influence people. I'd heard rumors there were also witches and warlocks practiced in the disciplines of greed, control, vanity, physical prowess, and control over plants or animals, among others.
I had no way of knowing if the rumors of other disciplines were true and Hayre refused to enlighten me. To my knowledge I'd never met another witch or warlock, but as I'd kept my ability secret, I assumed others did as well. Being discovered practicing magic was a dangerous thing, and I preferred not to be beheaded, drowned, or burned. I'd heal from many injuries that'd kill a normal woman, but I wasn't indestructible.
The barmaid returned with a mug of beer and a large steaming bowl of the delicious smelling stew. She quickly placed the wooden mug and bowl in front of me, along with a large wooden spoon, and a small plate containing a chunk of crusty bread. With her beautiful round face, large breasts, narrow waist, and wide hips, she looked like a woman who would know most of the men in the town.
"What's your name?" I asked as I picked up my spoon and dipped it into the stew, slowly stirring to cool it slightly.
"Elma, Elma Bardsong. What's yours?"
"Valaine Ebonywood," I replied, giving her my latest name.
"Welcome to Burgthur. What brings you to our town?"
I couldn't tell her my true purpose. "Passing through on my way to Glaileen to stay a time with my father's youngest brother and his family. His wife is with child again and needs help." The words flowed easily as it was a lie I'd told often.
The real reason I was in her village was much different. For years, I'd heard rumors of a man to the south that captivated maidens, though at the time I didn't know his name or where I could find him. Overwinter, Hayre had informed me of the bitter struggle developing between Tralgrannik and Tralmilin, two great lust demons, and one cold winter day Tralgrannik had called upon me to collect her due.
After Hayre had enable me, I'd grown my power and honed my skills until I believed I was the equal to any of the chosen, no matter their discipline. Tralgrannik, knowing my strength, had selected me as her proxy in her attempt to crush her rival. By killing Tralmilin's warlock, likely the man of the rumors, I'd destroy one of the familiars her foe used to draw his power.
There was only so much magic in the world, and it seemed to be declining. Even in my lifetime, as matchlock rifles replaced archer and sword in mans' never-ending wars, I could sense magic's slow waning. If I could sense the dwindling, then the great demons surely must be able to as well. It was probably the source of Tralgrannik and Tralmilin's struggle. According to Hayre, if Tralgrannik, through her witches and warlocks, could destroy enough of Tralmilin's familiars, Tralmilin would lose the ability to draw sufficient power to create more familiars, weakening him further. When his last link to his power was severed, he'd cease to exist, and the magic he controlled would return to the place it came from for other great demons to claim.
Using Hayre as a medium, Tralgrannik had appeared to task me with finding Archer Moonfall and killing him. Killing a warlock was no trivial thing, but I'd immediately agreed to undertake the quest. Sixty-four years ago, on the eve of my twentieth birthday, Hayre had enabled me, and as she'd given me my ability, she could also take it away. I wouldn't willingly give up my gift and was prepared to complete any task, perform any duty, to maintain my power.
"Aren't you afraid to travel alone?" Elma asked.
There were no outward signs that someone was a member of the chosen so long as the person was careful. Every ten years or so I moved to a new town and took a new name, arriving as a young maiden who'd lost her family to highwaymen. Though I was nearing my eighty-fourth birthday, I appeared to be a young and ripe woman of perhaps twenty... only more so.
As I gathered power, I'd transformed myself. I'd slowed my aging so that a year was little more than a season. I'd made my breasts larger and firmer, my womanhood tighter, wetter, and more resilient, my skin smoother and more supple, and my dark hair thicker and more luxurious. To compliment my enhanced beauty, I also increased my ability to resist disease and to heal, strengthened and toned my body, and blocked my ability to become pregnant. With practice I'd developed my skills until I could cast spells with such subtly my prey never knew they were being influenced, or if required, I could blind a man or woman with lust, turning them on each other, or themselves, allowing me to escape or control them. Though I couldn't tell Elma why, I was in no danger from traveling alone.
I smiled. "I'm careful, and I hide if I hear horses approaching."
"From where do you hail?"
"Neyvy, twenty days walk to the north."
"Being on the road for such a long time, you've been lucky you haven't been injured... or worse."
"Perhaps, but as I said, I'm careful."
"May your care continue your luck," she said as she turned away.
As she walked away, I decided I'd start my search for Moonfall with her. If there was a warlock here that enchanted maidens, with her comely figure, she was a likely candidate to have caught his notice. I reached across the room and again brushed her desires. As she drew a mug of beer for a customer, she looked up, met my gaze, and smiled at me.
Over the next several hours I wove my spell, drawing her to me in a way so she'd never realize she was being influenced. If I pressed her, I could have her rip her bodice from her plump breasts and fuck me on the bar as the rest of the customers cheered us, eager to tell me everything I wanted to know, but I never revealed my true nature or abilities.
I considered enchanting all thirteen men in the room, along with Elma, and feeding heartily on their lust as I fucked them all, but expending that much magic, and absorbing that much power, wouldn't go unnoticed if Archer was near. As much as I enjoyed feasting, over the last several days I'd expended little magic so had no need or capacity to hold so much additional power, and for now I needed to be discreet. I didn't want Moonfall to sense my presences, nor have someone warn him that he was being asked after if he was in the village.
During my travels I'd heard many stories of the type that had brought me to Elma's inn, tales of men with the power to captivate maidens, only to find a normal man with an outsized reputation. Most times the rumors I'd followed were just that, rumors or lies spread by men and women for their own proposes. Twice I'd discovered a man that seemed a likely candidate for my warlock, but neither was Moonfall. With both men I'd played the innocent maiden seeking to satiate an unquenchable thirst, and even though I'd quickly realized neither was my prey, I allowed both to take me to their bed where I used them for my own ends.
The two men had proven themselves to be more skillful, daring, and vigorous than most, and their unusually large penises had been adequately satisfying. I'd fucked them until they were unable to continue, and then blew gently on the flames of their desires, returning them to full hardness thrice more so that I could continue fucking them, drinking even more of their gift to empower and please Tralgrannik.
Between the passing of the noon sun, and the arrival of a new day, I could draw on my lover's sexual energy to add their gift, their life energy or power, to my own. Unfortunately, upon the rival of each new day, my ability to take someone's gift was severed until the sun was again past its peak, never to return for that individual.
I was like the hummingbird sipping from a flower. Men and woman didn't miss the force I took from them, their gift to me shortening their lives by only days. In the sixty-four years since my enabling, I'd gradually increased my ability to store power until, as I'd continued to sip from thousands of flowers, I'd collected a vast reservoir of power I could call upon for my own purposes. Men were especially delicious as not only did I draw power from their sexual excitement and orgasms, as I did with women, but I also drew power from their living essence when they emptied themselves into my womb.
I wasn't an evil woman. In exchange for a few days lost at the end of their lives, I gave my lovers a night like no other, a night that could never be equaled as my own orgasms increased their pleasure beyond anything they'd ever experienced, or ever would again.
As the evening progressed, I lounged in my chair as Elma offered me beer, pottage, and cakes, visiting my table ever more frequently and staying longer as I gently breathed on her flame. As evening faded into night, she became sweaty and flushed, and I could smell her desire.
After the windows had darkened, I began to touch the remaining men, some likely returning home to fuck their wives while others would have to care for their own needs, with one well-dressed and slightly obese man going up the steps to his rented bed. I'd touched the men at random, not wanting to stir suspicion by having them all decide to leave at once. As the men I nudged trickled out others left of their own accord, and Elma began to sit beside me, leaning in close to allow me a good view of her glistening breasts, or touching me on the thigh as we talked in quiet voices about trivial matters. I continued to breathe on her flame, smiling as it burned brighter, her excitement and lust sweeter than honey. Finally, there were only three of us in the room.
Elma rose after I again touched her desire. "I'm closing," she announced, her tone firm as she quickly toured the room, closed shutters on the windows, and then moved to the door.
"Aww... Elma. The moon is barely up," the old fart grumbled as he picked up his mug and glanced around the nearly empty room. "Besides, now I can finish my beer in peace and quiet."
She opened the inn's door. "Don't you 'aww Elma' me, Herlewin Gorelight! Go home, you old coot. You can have your peace and quiet while you sit in your room instead of mine."
I'd nudged the man earlier, but since he hadn't left, I nudged him again, harder this time. He grinned at Elma. "If I go, will you come home with me and sit on my face?" He turned his attention to me, showing me his missing teeth. "Either of you. Maybe both of you," added and then cackled before falling into a fit of coughing.
The man was near the end of his days, his life energy nearly used up. If I were to join with him he could die, and I didn't want to have to explain his death to the local constable.
I smiled at the codger. "Perhaps another time," I cooed as I nudged him a third time.
He downed the remainder of his mug as he stood. He was sporting an impressive erection and I smiled as Elma noticed, staring at his manhood as if she was considering his offer. "If you won't sit on my face, maybe you'd like to sit on something else," he offered as he grabbed his cock.
She glanced at me before she turned her attention back to Herlewin. "Like she said, maybe another time."
"Unfortunately, this is probably a one-time offer," he crowed before cackling again as he hobbled his way through the door.
As Elma closed the door and slammed the heavy bolt home, I nudged her harder than any time during the night. Her color rose even higher and her nipples tented the fabric of her bodice with her barely contained desire. I rose from my chair as she came to me, silently daring her to do what I knew she wanted to. When she reached me, she pulled me into a torrid kiss, a kiss I eagerly returned as one hand wadded in each other's hair while the other raised our gowns, allowing our fingers to reach inside the triangles of fabric that covered our womanhoods to dance in our wetness.
We stood, our breasts crushed together, our tongues dueling as our fingers teased the other's trench with abandonment. Her lust washed over me like an ocean as I drank from her well of life. She wailed softly as she flung her head back, her hips bucking and thrusting as I savaged her pussy with my fingers, her desires being enflamed as my own rising passion enveloped her in my magic.
She sagged, her legs trembling, before she straightened, hissing and snarling as she thrust furiously against my hand before crying loudly as she stumbled back against a table.
"You have a bed for me?" I purred as she leaned against the table, gasping and panting as her legs quivered. She was completely in my control and would do anything for me.
"Yes," she gasped. "You can share my bed."
"Good," I murmured. "We have much to do... and much to discuss."
"Yes," she whispered as she slowly forced herself to her feet. I pulled my cloak and pouch from the back of the chair as she took my hand and quickly tugged me to a small room behind the bar.
As the door clicked shut behind us, I dropped my items to the floor. Her hands shaking, she began ripping at my bodice with frhttps://derpibooru.org/profiles/gallardoiq
antic fingers. I grabbed her shoulders, spun her, and rammed her ass and back against the door as I slammed my firm, muscular thigh into her most sensitive area. She wailed softly as she grabbed my head and pulled my lips to hers for another frantic kiss. Elma was a lusty wench, needing no additional nudges to engulf her in desire.
I began thrusting against her with my leg as we devoured each other, the door rattling with every impact of my leg against her pussy. She squirmed and twisted, raising my gown until her own thigh was properly between my legs and against my pussy. We bucked and ground our bodies together, her soft moans and quiet gasps telling of her raging desire.
She shoved me away before ripping at the laces binding her breasts, pulling her bodice, corset, and gown over head in a bundle of cloth and throwing it to the floor. I mirrored her movements and dropped my own coverings, adding to the pile of fabric on the floor as we untied our underpants and allowed them to fall as well. Free of incumbrances, Elma rushed me and wrapped me in her embrace as we ground legs into pussies.
Elma and I were slightly shorter than average, though where I was dark, she was light. She was as heavy breasted as I was, though not as firm, but slightly fuller through the hips. Our bodies matched up well, allowing our probing tongues and hard nipples to duel easily. With a grunting gasp, she spun and drove me backwards into the door before grinding her body into mine as our lunging hips caused the door to thud and bang softly with our erotic combat.
With a growl I grabbed her hair and jerked her lips from mine. "Tell me of Archer Moonfall," I snarled before taking her lips again.
Her hips began to churn harder and faster, smearing our wetness and making our flesh glisten. "I'm coming again!" she mewled as she clawed at me. "You're making me come!"
"Tell me of Archer Moonfall!" I demanded again as our trenches pounded savagely against legs.
Elma wailed as her back arched, her hands grabbing my hair and pulling viciously, crushing our breasts together as she shuddered violently, the pain of my hair being pulled another source of pleasure. I grabbed her ass and held our bodies together as I thrust hard and fast, her bucking and shuddering hips adding to my pleasure as I accepted her gift.
"I'm coming!" I wailed as nectar sprayed from my pussy, and still I thrust, grinding our flowers into thighs, our beards dripping with my juices as my cry of pleasure echoed quietly about us.