darkest_fate
machina erotica
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2009
- Location
- the INTERNET
(note to reader: this is in the same universe as my other story, "The Sunrise of the Orc Lord," which means that it will feature a lot of monster sex. It's more consensual in spots this time around, but does delve into some odder kinks toward the middle. Currently I don't have an ending finished, though I've some idea of where I wanted it to end up. Figured I'd post more of my writing in this world to hopefully generate partner interest, since I'm writing in it now}
My dearest beloved,
I have settled in well with my new regiment. As anticipated, my scores at the magical academy granted me a position in an advanced unit. Most of my fellow squadmates are trained soldiers who have worked their way up through the ranks, including a few other mages such as myself. I am fortunate in that most of the mages are quite eager to share their knowledge. Being an eager student and keeping myself humble, as you suggested, has done wonders. My quick mind does seem to intimidate some, but not all.
However, it is not quite the same with the common soldiers. Despite my attempts to reach out to them, there is a strong sense of envy. Likely this is in some part to my magical status, but many wrongfully assume I have not earned my position. Apparently it does not help that I keep myself pure as the Scriptures dictate, nor that I regularly commence prayers. And, as always, my appearance has garnered an irritable amount of jealousy. Were it not for you, my beloved, I may seriously consider marring my complexion. The harassing is worse here than it ever was at school,, but I let it roll from me like sand from the crawler.
We are soon to complete our first foray against the monstrous horde. I am positioned to support the secondary lines, so it is unlikely that I will see much action. I am most eager to slay the abominations before the gods and to help purify our sacred lands. I already can feel that I am helping here, as we had both agreed. I miss you terribly, from your gentle touch to the caress of your tender lips. I hope for a quick end to the conflict, or at least my due part in it, so that I may return to your loving embrace.
With all my heart and soul,
Safiya.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Remember: those of you who are physically striking are most at risk. These brutes will single you out to take you from the ranks at all costs. Keep your heads, remember your spells and blades, and you’ll be fine,” the gruff, severe woman looked over the various charges. Her gaze no doubt lingered upon several of the gathered troops, but Safiya swore she lingered a little longer upon her. The young mage sighed, but loudly proclaimed her response all the same, agreeing with the recommendation.
One of the soldiers before her turned to her neighbor, whispering. He twisted to give Safiya an appraising look, earning him an elbow. The young mage sighed. Why was it that they always looked upon her appearance first? Many would consider her beauty a blessing, but Safiya could only find it a curse. She kept her thick black hair orderly trimmed, with a strict set of bangs that covered her forehead and the appropriate length: dangling just in the small of her back. The selected uniform fit her comfortably without accenting the curves she never wanted. Her breasts were somewhat bountiful, though she was far from the bustiest of even this outfit. Hips flared in a womanly shape, her ass an almost perfect upside down heart. She kept herself fit and trim, even as a scholar, though she’d considered perhaps attempting to grow fatter. But any time she tried, weight settled upon bust and hips. Her strong features only seemed to further add pain, as did the dusky sandy coloration of her skin. Many were struck by her visage, which was frustrating, as it ignored the sharp mind within.
Said mind pushed passed her frustrations, gathering spellwork and tracing it into the air. Shimmering energies joined with her companions, layering protections upon the front lines. All raised their perfumed veils, connecting them across their mouths. The display of modesty pleased those like Safiya who believed in following the Scriptures, and it had the more practical application of disturbing the musky pheromones the monsters were likely to produce.
The gathering hordes had become more troublesome of late. Monsters had proved difficult ever since some dark witch created the curse, which enhanced their already impressive appeal to females even further. A woman could grow addicted to monster cock simply through prolonged exposure, particularly if she came into contact or, gods forbid, took in their seed. A direct insemination in the womb sealed the curse, with magical sigils appearing and the pupils taking on a near glowing heart shape. It was said that the eyes could diminish, but the craving for monsters, and the pulsing need, would never dissipate.
Yet they must fight. Females received shorter terms of direct action, but they often proved more capable archers and mages. Hence why so many females stood in line with Safiya, with only a handful of males at best. Safiya could feel the rising pride in her sisters as they strode forward. A gathered motley crew of monsters, mostly orcs and dragonlings, roared in defiance, charging toward them. But the orders came, launching arrows and spells upon them, felling many of their numbers before they drew close.
A pungent wave of their odor washed over. That had proved a difficulty during early conflicts, as several females would drop their arms or even run toward the beasts. The thought filled Safiya with a mixture of disgust and regret. Who would dare want to embrace these abominations? Not to mention giving way to their lusts. But fortunately, the perfumes and veils worked, if not quite as well as some would hope.
“They’re riled up!” yelled one of the officers. “Know they’re outmatched!”
Safiya cheered with several others, but heard one of their cohort muttering nearby: “Or they’ve heard we’re hording gorgeous virgins and want to slake their lusts.” There was some laughter, but Safiya merely sighed. What these people would entertain themselves with.
She could see the monsters charging, and raised her hands. More spells launched forth, Safiya’s own magic mingling with the others. Frequently if one mage was more powerful, their magic would become the lead, the others joining in for a bolt. Safiya was pleasantly surprised to see her companions’ energy coalescing with her own, forming an impressive arrow of magical fire that ripped through the enemies’ lines.
It all went smoothly. Too smoothly.
Cries came from their flank. Safiya turned, seeing several dragonlings springing forth mere feet from their soldiers. Their sand colored scales glistened in the harsh light of the sun. Quite frequently they could blend magnificently with the sand itself, their bodies easily absorbing the heat. They could even lower an eyelid over their reptilian eyes, preventing sand from entering and causing difficulties. Safiya knew all this from her studies, also knew they should switch to cold spells.
But knowing studies and training was different than actual combat. The creatures did look like dragons of myth, with miniature versions of the maws ringed in fangs. They stood upright, with tails to balance out behind, and wielded weapons, but there would be little mistaking them for a man. Perhaps even more telling for this grouping was the lack of armor around their waists. Indeed, several seemed to be carrying another weapon, scaled and ridged like their natural armor, between their legs.
“Ha, they’ve presented their dicks for us!” crowed one of the under officers. Safiya’s dark eyes widened in horror, realizing what that entailed. The monsters’ members were bobbing free! How obscene! Already they were rallying, switching several mages to try and put them down quickly.
But a great gust of wind caught blew from what had been their rear. It snagged upon their loose white uniforms, raising skirts to demonstrate quite clearly who wore the official white underthings: a tight, short undergarment that easily covered all below. It also snagged several veils, including Safiya’s. Mages slapped hands to hold it in place, soon finding themselves overrun. Others let it fly free, and Safiya watched a few of her companions dropping to their knees, their eyes glazed.
Her own caught. Safiya took one deep breath, holding it as it blew free. She could see the trouble: a dragonling wind shaman standing behind the rest. She gestured toward several of her companions, a few others who had managed to hold their spellwork and veil or who had followed Safiya’s suit. Safiya thrust her arm toward the creature, already gathering her energies, the air shimmering before her. Without word or order, others gathered suit. Safiya knew not only precisely when to fire, but at who. The blast of cold air, a lance of ice, cut through even the buffeting winds. A dragonling guard attempted to intercept, but the sheer ferocity of the attack pushed him back into the shaman. Both collapsed, the wind dying immediately.
The soldiers around Safiya rallied, crying out in victory as they surged over the now scattered dragonlings. Safiya didn’t have time to revel in her victory, instead falling into more spellwork, launching frost at the dragonlings and counting on her companions to fend off the original assault. It would be over in a matter of moments, arrows, spells, scimitars, and spears easily dispatching the crew.
A shout of victory, led by their commanding officer. Commander Aaliyah smiled her fierce grin, wheeling her desert stallion before Safiya’s mages. “Mage Officer! Which one of you completed that icicle spear,” she pointed where Safiya’s work melted into a pool of blood on the sand.
“That would be Mage Safiya,” said Baqir, their leader. He turned, gesturing Safiya up. “Her first time in combat.”
Safiya simply bowed her head, extending her arms outward. “It is only through my companions that I succeeded,” she insisted. A few behind and around her snorted, but Aaliyah nodded.
“Indeed, a true daughter of the sands. Praise to Safiya and the mages!” she led a cheer, and Safiya fought a blush. Truly her first battle had gone better than she could have ever hoped.
My dearest beloved,
I have settled in well with my new regiment. As anticipated, my scores at the magical academy granted me a position in an advanced unit. Most of my fellow squadmates are trained soldiers who have worked their way up through the ranks, including a few other mages such as myself. I am fortunate in that most of the mages are quite eager to share their knowledge. Being an eager student and keeping myself humble, as you suggested, has done wonders. My quick mind does seem to intimidate some, but not all.
However, it is not quite the same with the common soldiers. Despite my attempts to reach out to them, there is a strong sense of envy. Likely this is in some part to my magical status, but many wrongfully assume I have not earned my position. Apparently it does not help that I keep myself pure as the Scriptures dictate, nor that I regularly commence prayers. And, as always, my appearance has garnered an irritable amount of jealousy. Were it not for you, my beloved, I may seriously consider marring my complexion. The harassing is worse here than it ever was at school,, but I let it roll from me like sand from the crawler.
We are soon to complete our first foray against the monstrous horde. I am positioned to support the secondary lines, so it is unlikely that I will see much action. I am most eager to slay the abominations before the gods and to help purify our sacred lands. I already can feel that I am helping here, as we had both agreed. I miss you terribly, from your gentle touch to the caress of your tender lips. I hope for a quick end to the conflict, or at least my due part in it, so that I may return to your loving embrace.
With all my heart and soul,
Safiya.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Remember: those of you who are physically striking are most at risk. These brutes will single you out to take you from the ranks at all costs. Keep your heads, remember your spells and blades, and you’ll be fine,” the gruff, severe woman looked over the various charges. Her gaze no doubt lingered upon several of the gathered troops, but Safiya swore she lingered a little longer upon her. The young mage sighed, but loudly proclaimed her response all the same, agreeing with the recommendation.
One of the soldiers before her turned to her neighbor, whispering. He twisted to give Safiya an appraising look, earning him an elbow. The young mage sighed. Why was it that they always looked upon her appearance first? Many would consider her beauty a blessing, but Safiya could only find it a curse. She kept her thick black hair orderly trimmed, with a strict set of bangs that covered her forehead and the appropriate length: dangling just in the small of her back. The selected uniform fit her comfortably without accenting the curves she never wanted. Her breasts were somewhat bountiful, though she was far from the bustiest of even this outfit. Hips flared in a womanly shape, her ass an almost perfect upside down heart. She kept herself fit and trim, even as a scholar, though she’d considered perhaps attempting to grow fatter. But any time she tried, weight settled upon bust and hips. Her strong features only seemed to further add pain, as did the dusky sandy coloration of her skin. Many were struck by her visage, which was frustrating, as it ignored the sharp mind within.
Said mind pushed passed her frustrations, gathering spellwork and tracing it into the air. Shimmering energies joined with her companions, layering protections upon the front lines. All raised their perfumed veils, connecting them across their mouths. The display of modesty pleased those like Safiya who believed in following the Scriptures, and it had the more practical application of disturbing the musky pheromones the monsters were likely to produce.
The gathering hordes had become more troublesome of late. Monsters had proved difficult ever since some dark witch created the curse, which enhanced their already impressive appeal to females even further. A woman could grow addicted to monster cock simply through prolonged exposure, particularly if she came into contact or, gods forbid, took in their seed. A direct insemination in the womb sealed the curse, with magical sigils appearing and the pupils taking on a near glowing heart shape. It was said that the eyes could diminish, but the craving for monsters, and the pulsing need, would never dissipate.
Yet they must fight. Females received shorter terms of direct action, but they often proved more capable archers and mages. Hence why so many females stood in line with Safiya, with only a handful of males at best. Safiya could feel the rising pride in her sisters as they strode forward. A gathered motley crew of monsters, mostly orcs and dragonlings, roared in defiance, charging toward them. But the orders came, launching arrows and spells upon them, felling many of their numbers before they drew close.
A pungent wave of their odor washed over. That had proved a difficulty during early conflicts, as several females would drop their arms or even run toward the beasts. The thought filled Safiya with a mixture of disgust and regret. Who would dare want to embrace these abominations? Not to mention giving way to their lusts. But fortunately, the perfumes and veils worked, if not quite as well as some would hope.
“They’re riled up!” yelled one of the officers. “Know they’re outmatched!”
Safiya cheered with several others, but heard one of their cohort muttering nearby: “Or they’ve heard we’re hording gorgeous virgins and want to slake their lusts.” There was some laughter, but Safiya merely sighed. What these people would entertain themselves with.
She could see the monsters charging, and raised her hands. More spells launched forth, Safiya’s own magic mingling with the others. Frequently if one mage was more powerful, their magic would become the lead, the others joining in for a bolt. Safiya was pleasantly surprised to see her companions’ energy coalescing with her own, forming an impressive arrow of magical fire that ripped through the enemies’ lines.
It all went smoothly. Too smoothly.
Cries came from their flank. Safiya turned, seeing several dragonlings springing forth mere feet from their soldiers. Their sand colored scales glistened in the harsh light of the sun. Quite frequently they could blend magnificently with the sand itself, their bodies easily absorbing the heat. They could even lower an eyelid over their reptilian eyes, preventing sand from entering and causing difficulties. Safiya knew all this from her studies, also knew they should switch to cold spells.
But knowing studies and training was different than actual combat. The creatures did look like dragons of myth, with miniature versions of the maws ringed in fangs. They stood upright, with tails to balance out behind, and wielded weapons, but there would be little mistaking them for a man. Perhaps even more telling for this grouping was the lack of armor around their waists. Indeed, several seemed to be carrying another weapon, scaled and ridged like their natural armor, between their legs.
“Ha, they’ve presented their dicks for us!” crowed one of the under officers. Safiya’s dark eyes widened in horror, realizing what that entailed. The monsters’ members were bobbing free! How obscene! Already they were rallying, switching several mages to try and put them down quickly.
But a great gust of wind caught blew from what had been their rear. It snagged upon their loose white uniforms, raising skirts to demonstrate quite clearly who wore the official white underthings: a tight, short undergarment that easily covered all below. It also snagged several veils, including Safiya’s. Mages slapped hands to hold it in place, soon finding themselves overrun. Others let it fly free, and Safiya watched a few of her companions dropping to their knees, their eyes glazed.
Her own caught. Safiya took one deep breath, holding it as it blew free. She could see the trouble: a dragonling wind shaman standing behind the rest. She gestured toward several of her companions, a few others who had managed to hold their spellwork and veil or who had followed Safiya’s suit. Safiya thrust her arm toward the creature, already gathering her energies, the air shimmering before her. Without word or order, others gathered suit. Safiya knew not only precisely when to fire, but at who. The blast of cold air, a lance of ice, cut through even the buffeting winds. A dragonling guard attempted to intercept, but the sheer ferocity of the attack pushed him back into the shaman. Both collapsed, the wind dying immediately.
The soldiers around Safiya rallied, crying out in victory as they surged over the now scattered dragonlings. Safiya didn’t have time to revel in her victory, instead falling into more spellwork, launching frost at the dragonlings and counting on her companions to fend off the original assault. It would be over in a matter of moments, arrows, spells, scimitars, and spears easily dispatching the crew.
A shout of victory, led by their commanding officer. Commander Aaliyah smiled her fierce grin, wheeling her desert stallion before Safiya’s mages. “Mage Officer! Which one of you completed that icicle spear,” she pointed where Safiya’s work melted into a pool of blood on the sand.
“That would be Mage Safiya,” said Baqir, their leader. He turned, gesturing Safiya up. “Her first time in combat.”
Safiya simply bowed her head, extending her arms outward. “It is only through my companions that I succeeded,” she insisted. A few behind and around her snorted, but Aaliyah nodded.
“Indeed, a true daughter of the sands. Praise to Safiya and the mages!” she led a cheer, and Safiya fought a blush. Truly her first battle had gone better than she could have ever hoped.