The Warlock of Felwood

Mooni opened her eyes. She quickly assessed her surroundings. It was morning, the sun was rising. She was lying against the ruins of a short stone wall. In front of her was a small crackling fire and several charred logs, evidently burning all night. She was completely naked. The human’s hand was wrapped around her waist; he was soundly asleep with his head resting against her shoulder. A sparkle in the distance caught Mooni’s eye – it was her truesilver blade.

Mooni slowly and meticulously removed the human’s hand and gently placed his head to rest on the ground. She rose to her feet and carefully tiptoed to the glimmering sword. With the familiar leather handle in her hands once again, Mooni boldly strode to the sleeping human. With a flash of fiery hatred in her brilliant emerald eyes, the executioner raised the sword high in the air for a deathblow.

“Do you think I’m that naïve?” Vaithen’s eyes flared open, a self-assured smile creeping onto his face. Black runes glowed on the sword’s leather handle, burning Mooni’s hand with such a searing intensity and sizzle that the nightelf released it immediately despite her hardened resolve to kill. The black-robed warlock took his time rising to his feet, with the same patience as if disciplining an unruly child. He placed his wrapped hands on the disarmed elf’s hair and roughly jerked her downward, dropping her to her knees. Pressing the unruly elf against the cold stone wall, he forced himself inside her unwilling mouth. The invading protrusion smeared again and again against her tightly sealed mouth, trying to gain entrance. A knee cap caught her in the jaw, causing it to buckle slightly ajar, enough opportunity for him to slip in. She felt the torturous slimy thing go in and out of her mouth, utterly violating her. Yet she felt strangely compelled -- to suck it, slurp it, suction it dry. She found herself enjoying it even, it had a pleasing taste; in fact she began to vigorously suck on it. This was one of the most nourishing flavors she had in a while!

Mooni opened her eyes. Vaithen had his fingers in her mouth; she was sucking on his index finger as if she were utterly famished. The taste on his finger had the smell of a recently killed hare. She quickly assessed her surroundings. It was morning, the sun was rising. She was lying against the ruins of a short stone wall. In front of her was a small crackling fire, a small black pot with a couple strips of flesh and several green herbs were bubbling inside. A black satin length of cloth covered her body, shielding her from the cold night. She was still completely naked, her armor and sword were nowhere in sight. The human squatted beside her naked frame, and evidently had been feeding her the stew with his fingers.

“You’re finally awake. I would have left you to the scavengers and demons if you had slept any longer.” Vaithen announced in an unemotional tone. He didn’t appear to have been phased at all by what he had done!

Mooni could sense butterflies fluttering in her head, her mind slowly regathering its senses. It felt as if she had awakened from a coma, her body was recalibrating to itself. Mooni curled her fingers, to reassure herself that she still had control of her own body. “How long have I been asleep?” Mooni asked. “Everything feels… different.”

The warlock shot a glance at her. “A day and two nights. I assure you, I have more important business to attend to than to baby-sit a silly elf that drank too much firewater.”

Mooni felt slightly perplexed. It was true, she couldn’t remember much of what happened earlier. She’d have to ponder on it later…

“Get up.” A voice interrupted her thoughts. “Clean up this camp site. We have places to go.” No one spoke like this to her, no one ordered Mooni around. What had happened?

A rough hand pulled her to her feet by the scruff of the neck. Suddenly, it all came back in a rush. A flood of memories and emotions surged into her head. She remembered the surprise as he threw her to the ground, on this very same spot. The fear as he gazed into her eyes with a hungry stare. The gut-wrenching agony and shrieks as he split her open – No. Mooni didn’t want to think about what had occurred here anymore. It was too painful – she could still feel the ache in her loins. Her mind finally readjusted back to reality, and she found herself staring at a patch of stained earth. She quickly averted her eyes upward, but not too high, to avoid meeting the human’s eyes. Shame swelled through her being; this cruel warlock had struck a brutal insult against her proud warrior spirit. Rather than leaving her to die in the wilderness after having utterly used her, he had kept her alive to face the penultimate dishonor of being indebted to his charity.

Mooni bent to the ground and scooped up the velvet black cloth to cover her body; she still had enough modesty to cover herself in a man’s presence, at least. She took the small pot in her hands and finished the remainder of the stew greedily – the hunger that gnawed at her stomach could not be ignored even if it meant facing the humility of a warlock’s charity. Mooni watched as he extinguished the dying embers, scattering the firewood and destroying the evidence of a campsite. She studied the human intensely – was her strong independent will already falling under his spell? Squatted over and scattering leaves, Vaithen glanced up at her, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. Hers lowered to the ground immediately.

After the warlock had finished concealing the campsite, he knelt down and reached behind a marble column that lay like a fallen giant, partially sunken into ground. He hoisted up a sword – her gleaming truesilver blade! Vaithen held the heavy claymore by its sharpened midsection, his embalmed hands pressed against the smooth edge. By all accounts it should have sliced through the paper-thin wraps on his hand, but instead he non-chalantly carried it to Mooni, her eyes shining with a newfound intensity. Vaithen heaved the sword towards her, the finely crafted masterwork rotating several revolutions in mid-air before the familiar leather grip was reunited with her soft hands. Mooni gripped it lovingly, feeling the familiar grooves and curves; the sweat-discolored leather binding felt at home against her palm and fingers’ sweet embrace. It was her only real treasure, and now her only possession. As rational logic finally overcame her brief euphoria, she pondered why her captor had returned her weapon. Wasn’t he afraid she would slay him, backstab him from behind when he wasn’t looking? Mooni glanced around for Vaithen, but the warlock had already walked away. It was as if this was no consequence, nothing more than giving a child a mere toy. Was he so confident in himself that he would arm an enemy who had every reason to kill him? Mooni thought back to her dream… and shuddered. Mooni slung the sword over her exposed bare back and followed the rustling black fabric sweeping across the forest floor.

The pair traveled through the twisted woods, the great trees contorted into unrecognizable monstrocities. The disfigured knot holes on the mammoths looked like giant maws open awide, screaming in silent anguish. Mooni’s unfamiliar feet found it difficult navigating the tangled forest floor, strewn with gnarled tree roots and venomous vines. She followed a step behind the warlock, who seemed to glide through the tainted foliage with ease. It was as if Felwood was his own backyard. No satyr, demon, or beast made their presence known, but she could sense their malevolent yellow eyes following her nubile form hungrily. The pair trudged on in silence until high noon, finally stopping beneath a mighty oak with a grand canopy. The hazy atmosphere was oppressive; beads of sweat trickled down every part of her body. Mooni greedily gulped down the canteen of water Vaithen handed her. She was the first one to break the long silence.

“Why?” Mooni questioned in a weak, broken voice. Why had he forced himself on her? Why did he utterly humiliate her? Why was he caring for her now? These were all questions that haunted her the entire morning, questions she wanted to scream at the dark-robed human.

Vaithen ceased staring off into space and turned his attention to the distraught elf sitting beside him. Still clad in his meager length of black cloth, she appeared bedraggled and misheveled. Her fine, smooth hair was a jumbled tangle and drenched in sweat; her face marred by countless dried tears. Her body was covered in mud and grime. She was a mess, both physically and mentally. “Because I still have plans for you.” His hand reached to stroke her soft lavender hair, but she turned away from him. It was too… painful.

Vaithen had to do something about this. Mooni wouldn’t be presentable in this condition, a broken down heap of flesh and hair. He placed his hand on her shoulder, a firm touch he hoped would reassure her. A faux smile was plastered his face, a friendly gesture he hoped would reach her.

“Come with me. I know what will make you feel better.” Vaithen cooed in his most non-threatening voice possible. He could feel Mooni’s pupils slowly rise from the ground to meet his. Vaithen took the elf by the hand, leading her to a small rocky outcropping concealed by a dense barrier of twisting disfigured oaks. A small spring bubbled from some hidden crag in the rocks, producing a shallow reservoir of sickly yellow-tinged water.

“The water is clean, despite its looks contrary. It’s the same water that falls down to Darkshore, where your kind gulp it down quite happily, “ Vaithen declared. “Bathe and cleanse yourself, I find it an eye sore for you to be in my company.” Mooni looked to his face for his approval. Was he being sarcastic? No one had ever told her she was an eye sore before, quite the opposite. Mooni stripped off her blade and laid it gently on the edge of the rocks, then unwrapped the black fabric wound around her body, carefully folding it and placing it besides her sword. Mooni sat with her exposed bare bottom against the cold stone. She dipped her toe in first; the water was chilly, but pleasant. She tantalizingly lowered her long slender legs until they were submerged entirely, the opaque water concealing them beneath the depths. She then heaved herself off the stone and plunged into the spring, the water coming up to her midriff. The naked night elf shivered in the frigid waves at first, but soon relaxed as she became accustomed to the temperature. Her tense muscles became noticeably less tight, their eccentric contractions no longer visible underneath the thin layer of pure kaldorei softness that kept her skin looking smooth and supple. Mooni sequentially splashed water on her arms, washing off the caked sweat and dirt. The mud slid off her smooth pink skin, revealing the flawless texture of her soft, glossy arms, the midday sun dancing shiny sparkles on the water droplets clinging against her frame. She held her breath and dove beneath the water, resurfacing moments later. The water slid down the graceful “V” shape of her damp flowing hair, matted together by the wetness into a single elegant waterfall of deep purple cascading down to her shoulders. Mooni happily scrubbed away at her skin, slowly regaining confidence in herself as her undeniable beauty began to shine again.

So absorbed in her bathing that when she heard a loud splash at the other end of the spring, her heart skipped a beat and her nude body went rigid. For a minute she had believed that she was back home in Ashenvale, soaking herself in a soothing moonwell, washing the day’s troubles away. And then it dawned on her – she was frolicking in a yellow-tinged watering hole, and her captor was in the spring with her. She was too scared too turn around – she didn’t want to see what would be inevitable. Mooni stared straight ahead, to the other side of the spring, her back turned away, when she felt his firm hands on both shoulders. Vaithen gripped her shoulders, feeling every dip, depression, and bump in her musculature.

“You’re tense again… I saw you relax when you first jumped in. Retrieve that feeling for me, I’m not going to hurt you now.” Vaithen spoke softly and gently, trying to reassure the elf with her back turned to him. He leaned closer to her, Mooni could feel his hardened chest pressed against her spine. His mouth trailed to side of her ear, moving with purpose and cause. “Relax yourself, untighten your muscles…” he whispered.

Vaithen had disrobed and unwrapped the bindings on his hands, the mass of dark fabric and embalming tape lay on the rocks, next to Mooni’s sheathed blade. He pressed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing her constricted muscles, applying a heavy pressure against the area. He began to rub harder, slower, and even harder, to the point of precariously unbalancing and tipping Mooni. He kneaded the tissue, feeling the pliant silky skin pressing back against his hands. He could feel her body surrendering to his massage, assimilating into his movements, rocking back and forth against his hands. Her back released its tension as she let go and assumed a neutral, relaxed spinal position.

“Ooooo…. It feels soooo good…” Mooni cooed, perhaps oblivious to her surroundings and the apprehension she had felt only moments before. She moaned as the balls of his palms dug into her back, conveying the sensation that her muscles were melting. His palms began to work into circles on her back, pushing against her with pressure, expelling the tenseness and lactic acid from her sore back. The elf’s apprehensions vanished for the moment as she became mere putty in his expert hands. It was an unbelievable sensation, as his touch breathed new life into her body. As his fingers reached the small of her back, the specter of expectation encroached into her mind. “He is starting to get awfully low…”. Yet her physicality could not resist the pure bliss as his strong hands applied a firm pressure against her lower back. She just wanted to fall against him, have him catch her and hold her tight against his torso, staying in the moment forever…

As Vaithen finished his massage, he placed arms around her midriff, his hands on top of her stomach. Mooni glowed in the moment, but she still faced away, afraid to acknowledge those magic hands resting against her wet exposed skin. The hand traveled up her body and planted itself firmly against her chin, and began turning her features towards him. Mooni’s body agonizingly slowly turned to face his, but her face faintly resisted meeting the sharp features, instead looking downward as if staring at his chest. Vaithen raised both his hands, gently placing them to either side of her cheeks. He applied force upwards with his thumbs, raising her chin and face up to meet him in the eyes. Vaithen could see the tear welling up in her eyes, quivering with uncertainty and a tinge of fear.

“You’re quite a sight.... so delicate and vulnerable…” Vaithen said gently. He stroked her cheek with his fingers, feeling the silky texture gliding against his fingers. He inched her body closer, bringing her full, supple lips perilously close to his. Mooni’s sparkling emerald eyes closed, her lips opened to receive, inflamed with hot, burning expectation.

Vaithen pressed his index finger perpendicular against her extended lips -- her eyes flashed open. “Not yet. Not here… not now, at least.” He took her hand in his and led her to the edge of the spring, where their possessions lay on the stones. “You’ve had your fun, but I still need to prepare myself for this evening. There’s a grand ball we’ve to attend.” Vaithen felt a pang of satisfaction deep within his darkened heart when he saw the elf genuinely smile. It was working after all, this little detour wasn’t a waste of time. He stood his ground as Mooni circled him, cupping water with her hands and releasing it on his body. Her hands worked to rub and wash his arms, scrub and knead against his flared back, her delicate hand running teasingly against his features. He even felt a playful grope as she ran her wet hands in circles around his torso. As his captive finished her ministrations cleansing the dirt and sweat from his frame, Vaithen placed his hands on the dry stones and hoisted himself partially out of the water, his thick legs still dangling in the water.

Vaithen motioned for Mooni to approach him. Her cheeks flushed bright crimson when it finally dawned on her that her lips were perfectly level with his no-longer concealed member. It throbbed slightly at her nearing, becoming excited by the sight of her flawless facial features. Vaithen placed his left hand gently on her smooth, slick purple hair. The strands gleamed with the sparkles of water reflecting the sun… it looked as if diamonds gleamed in her magnificently luxuriant silken strands. He stroked her hair softly, feeling the smoothness gliding between his fingertips, the touch intoxicating to his senses. He applied a light pressure to the back of her head, beckoning her closer to his crotch.

Vaithen could sense the apprehension and fear in his elf, still uncertain of him and his intentions. Yet Mooni was strangely enthralled, both repulsed and captivated by this fleshy appendage that had utterly despoiled her nights before, and, not consciously admitting at least, brought earth-shaking pleasure to her first experience. His firm touch guided her closer until her facial features were mere centimeters from it. Her hand rose to clasp its girth, feeling the warm skin burning in her touch. It twitched multiple times in her torturously cold wet hands, but it knew that those dainty hands promised something more. Mooni’s eyes finally broke from its mesmerizing transfixation on his tool and looked up at Vaithen questioningly. She saw the glint of lust, of expectation. She feared her master’s wrath, his anger should she refuse when he wanted her body’s delights.

Mooni’s eyes lowered to his member again, burning red hot in her hand. She brushed her cheek against it, feeling the warmth against her skin, inhaling the aroma of his desire. Her lips grazed across the veiny surface, eliciting an approving groan from her master. Her subconscious secretly agreed with him – it was true, she wanted this just as badly as he did. Her slender body began to shake with the same insatiable desire as his, the passion of the moment overtaking her logic and senses. Her tongue snaked out and planted itself on the underside of the base of his tool, the rest of the length lying against her face and nose. Mooni almost wanted to giggle at the absurdity of her libido’s impulses. Her tongue laid a loving stroke, licking the underside of Vaithen’s meat to the tip, leaving a glistening trail of wet saliva on his otherwise dry skin. Soon to change, of course. Mooni had sampled his taste, and she wanted more. Her supple lips carefully enveloped his tip with a soft-lipped kiss – she could feel the pulsating shaft pounding against her hand’s grip at his base. Her lips inched closer, suckling on his head, her tongue flirtfully dancing and teasing the tip with artful swirls and slurps. Her eyes again rose to Vaithen’s questioningly, seeking his approval.

Vaithen unleashed a guttural groan as the Night Elf attacked his nub, the moist and damp cave of her mouth and her hot, inviting breath drove his senses mad. He gazed down at his toy, her hollowed-out cheeks suctioning against his head accentuated her sharp features, exaggerating the graceful sweeps and curves of her flawless face. It was as if he were looking down at a perfectly sculpted statue, except it was here, pleasuring him. Her long plumes of eye lashes rose and heralded her deep emerald eyes, a veritable lake of the richest jade. It felt like he could skip a stone in the lake of her eyes and watch the awe-inspiring beauty and harmony of the ensuing ripples, waves in the mesmerizing hue of her eyes… Her eyes begged of approval, like a hungry puppy desperately whining at its dinner bowl. He fought with himself to keep from forcing his hands against the back of her head, to prevent himself from just using her mouth for his own immediate pleasure. It would scar her further, and undermine what trust he had built so far. “You’re amazing, my little Mooni… I thought you were a virgin… how could you possibly be this good… don’t stop…” he cooed. His hips involuntarily gyrated towards her, to help her along, desperate against her teasing tongue.

Mooni’s rational thought shut down as passion and libido overtook her senses, her irrational emotions running amok in her mind. Her mouth ached with desperate need, sucking against his rod, her tongue trying to engulf as much of the length as possible. Her long slender ears wilted as Vaithen slipped further and deeper into her mouth, to the entrance of her throat, their smoldering body temperatures intermingling with one another. Mooni could feel every ridge and bump sliding in and out of her inner check, the sensuality was maddening to her senses. Her tongue lavished him with praise, playing with his tip, sweeping across his head, caressing its underside… through her ecstacy she was faintly aware of his growing primitive groans, reaching closer and closer. As his breathing grew louder, it spurred her lust onward. Her tongue lashed against his organ, her cheeks pumped as if milking him utterly, drawing poison out of a wound. Her mind shuddered and her vision blurred, as time seemed to crawl at a snail’s pace as she could feel his member inside her moist shudder once, twice, as it exploded its load inside. Volumes of his cum shot down Mooni’s throat, barely quenching her insatiable lustful thirst. It twitched again and again, expelling the last drops into her hungry, eager mouth. Her eyes seemed nearly possessed, utterly berserk with wild passion. Vaithen watched as his nightelf licked her lips and gulped down her reward, his eyes following the bulges tracing down her throat. Satisfaction swelled through him; it had been a while since he had taken anything quite this amazing. His wonderment was cut short as the lust-crazed night elf lunged out of the water at him, tackling him to the cold stone outcropping.

Mooni’s steamy breath fell against his neck, raising every hair on body as she exhaled deeply against him, lavishing kisses upon his torso and neck. Her silky lavender strands snaked across Vaithen’s chest, their luxuriant divine texture sweeping against his skin. It was as if she were possessed by wild spirits! Her knees pinned him down, her arms running against his chest, up to his neck and shoulders, then caressing his face before descending again. Her rump, stuck high in the air, lowered against him, begging to grind against him, against the saliva-covered organ of his. Her right hand shot down to grab his tool, viciously fighting against its softening, keeping its rock-solid state steady. Mooni brought her mound even closer against him, her hand stroking his member wildly, directing it towards her slit, brimming with her slick wetness. She brought the tip of his tool to her opening, dipping his organ’s head up and down her pink gash, the head disappearing and appearing in her carnal folds. Mooni moaned in sheer lust, unaware of anything else as her hands brought his meat to graze again and again across her delicate folds, the sensuous teasing sparked the impulse to plunge him deep within the walls of her craving pussy. Her fantasy shattered in an instant of a second as the warlock overpowered her adrenaline-fueled lust and wrestled her to the bottom of the ground, his hands restraining her wrists to the cold stone beneath.

“I decide when and where,” Vaithen panted with exertion. He couldn’t risk losing control of his pet whenever she felt frisky. “And as I told you, now is not that time.” “Control yourself and get dressed, we are close to our final destination at hand.”

Truth be told, Vaithen, too, found it hard to control his impulse to utterly ravage the night elf then and there. Lust for the sensual lavender flesh raged in his veins, screaming at him to fuck the night elf senseless. But he had higher obligations to fulfill, and all would right itself in due time…