Elven gods

Ash lay back in the warm waters of the pond, his mind still reeling from the unexpected turn of events. The two elf sisters, Naya and Lira, had taken it upon themselves to help relieve his persistent arousal, each in their own unique way.

Naya had swallowed his seed, eager to please and fascinated by the taste. Her tongue was skilled, her throat eager to receive his essence. But even as she licked her lips clean of his cum, Ash could see the hunger still burning in her eyes. She craved more, wanted to empty his balls completely.

But Lira was a different story. Her touch was gentle, her kisses sweet and innocent. She had no idea what was happening between his legs, only that he needed help. And so she had offered herself, letting him suckle her full breasts as he battled the pain of his condition.

Ash knew he had to be careful, had to tread lightly. These were pure creatures, untouched by the sins of the world he came from. They didn't understand desire, didn't know the dark impulses that could drive a man to madness.

But Ash was no stranger to manipulation, to taking what he wanted without remorse. And right now, what he wanted was to explore the delights of these virgin bodies, to introduce them to pleasures they couldn't even begin to comprehend.

He started slowly, his hands roaming over Lira's curves as she moaned above him. Her breasts were a feast for the senses, soft and firm and impossibly sensitive. He could feel her nipples hardening under his touch, could hear the breathy sighs escaping her lips.

Emboldened by her response, Ash let his hand drift lower, tracing the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips. He felt her tense for a moment, heard the catch in her breath as his fingers brushed against her most sacred place.

"It's okay," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "I won't hurt you. I just want to make you feel good."

Lira relaxed then, trusting him implicitly. And Ash took full advantage, his fingers delving into her slick folds, stroking her in ways she had never been touched before.

She cried out, her hips bucking against his hand as pleasure coursed through her veins. Ash could feel her growing wetter with each pass of his fingers, her body responding instinctively to his touch.

Beside them, Naya continued her ministrations, her mouth working tirelessly to coax more seed from Ash's shaft. But he barely noticed her now, too focused on the virgin elf writhing above him.

He brought Lira to the brink of climax again and again, backing off just before she could tumble over the edge. He wanted to draw this out, to prolong her torment even as he reveled in her desperate cries.

Finally, when he could stand it no longer, Ash captured Lira's lips in a searing kiss. At the same time, he plunged two fingers deep into her tight channel, rubbing that secret spot that made her see stars.

Lira came with a scream, her body convulsing as ecstasy crashed over her in waves. Ash drank down her cries, his own release spurting into Naya's eager mouth as Lira's walls clenched around his fingers.

They collapsed together in the aftermath, Lira limp and sated in Ash's arms, Naya licking his spent cock clean. Ash knew he had them now, had wormed his way into their hearts and bodies. They would do anything for him, these pure creatures. Anything at all.

And he intended to take full advantage.

**

Later that evening, Ash, Naya, and Lira made their way through the village streets.

The scent of crushed flowers and fresh rain lingered, mingling with the occasional aroma of roasted fruits and herbal incense from open windows. The village was alive with movement, yet not everyone seemed interested in the event they were headed to.

Ash noticed groups of elves still engaged in their daily routines—some bartering at market stalls, others repairing homes, and a few simply lounging under the glow of hovering lanterns. He had expected every elf to be attending this procreation ceremony, given how important it seemed, but clearly, participation was optional.

"Not everyone attends?" he asked, glancing at Naya.

"Yes, not everyone attends but..." She sighed, rolling her eyes at Lira, who was adjusting the strap of her barely-there dress. "We would have gotten a better spot if someone had dressed faster."

Lira scoffed. "Excuse me? I always look amazing, but perfection takes time." She struck a playful pose, her hair catching the soft glow of lanterns lining the path. "Besides, not everyone needs to be there. It's a sacred event, but only those who feel drawn to it participate. Others just… go about their lives."

Ash nodded thoughtfully. It was strange. In his fragmented memories, he couldn't recall a single place where reproduction was ceremonial like this.

It was usually a private act, not a public event with an audience.

They turned a corner, and Ash's breath caught in his throat.

A massive stone amphitheater stood before them, glowing softly under the bioluminescent vines that coiled around its towering pillars.

The seating area was carved into the earth, descending toward a raised podium at the center, where the ceremony would take place. The elves attending were already packed together, filling every available space. The best vantage points were clearly taken.

"Damn it," Naya muttered. "All the best spots are gone."

"See?" She turned to Lira, giving her a pointed look. "Told you."

"Ugh, fine," Lira huffed. "Blame me if it makes you feel better."

Ash ignored their bickering and took in the sight of the attendees. There was something odd about them.

At first glance, they all seemed like variations of the stunning elves he had already met—tall, strikingly beautiful, with sharp features and radiant skin. But as his eyes adjusted, he spotted younger elves, ones who lacked the full figures of the adults. Their faces were softer, their bodies still developing.

That's when it hit him.

They all had breasts, even the youngest among them. The only thing differentiating the children from the adults was their smaller frames and more delicate features.

His stomach tightened.

That meant he was the only one without them—an old-faced elf with a completely flat chest.

It sounded funny to him.

Just then, a hush fell over the crowd.

Ash turned his head to see a group of elves entering through a grand archway, dressed in shimmering silks and adorned with glowing gemstones.

Their presence commanded immediate respect—every elf in the amphitheater turned toward them, some bowing their heads slightly.

Lira leaned in, her breath warm against Ash's ear. "Those are the Elders of the Kingdom. They assist the Queen in running everything."

Ash kept his gaze on them. "So where is the Queen?"

"Not here." Naya's voice was lower than before, tinged with something close to concern. "That's… unusual. The Queen has never missed a procreation ceremony."

A whisper spread through the crowd, confirming that the Queen's absence was noticed by everyone.

At the center of the procession was one woman who stood out among the Elders—Lyra, with her silver hair cascading down her back.

She moved gracefully to the front of the podium, her robes embroidered with runes that shimmered under the moonlight.

When she spoke, her voice rang with authority.

"The Queen will not be attending tonight," Lyra announced, her face impassive. "Her spirit is troubled, and she wishes to be left in solitude. However, the ritual must proceed."

A murmur spread through the audience.

Ash could feel the tension shift in the air. He wasn't sure if it was disappointment, concern, or something else entirely, but the Queen's absence meant something significant.

Before he could dwell on it, two guards stepped forward, escorting a lone figure dressed in a flowing white robe.

The elf's face was concealed, and the way she moved—carefully, deliberately—suggested she was aware that every single eye was on her.

Lira leaned in again. "She's the volunteer. A pure creator."

Ash frowned. "Pure creator?"

"It's a rare ability," Naya explained. "Not all elves have the power to create life. Only a few are born with it. This is her second time procreating."

Ash's curiosity deepened. "Wait… I thought you said someone had to volunteer for this?"

Lira nodded. "That's right."

"Then why does it sound like… not many elves are willing?"

Naya hesitated before responding. "Because it's painful beyond comprehension. Not just physically—mentally, emotionally. Creation is the opposite of destruction, and most fighters… they can't handle it. Their bodies aren't wired for it."

"Most warriors are destroyers," Lira added, her tone softer. "They can wield magic for fighting, but they can't perform the process of bringing life into the world. And creators… well, most of them are too fragile to resist the pain of creation. It's a cruel balance."

Ash absorbed their words, his eyes fixed on the white-robed figure standing at the center of the podium.

He had so many questions. If procreation was such an agonizing process, why did this woman volunteer? Did she see it as a duty? An honor? Or was there something more sinister behind it?

His thoughts were interrupted as Elder Lyra raised a thick, leather-bound book, its gilded edges catching the flickering torchlight. She took a deep breath and opened it, flipping through the pages with practiced hands.

The crowd instantly knelt, their movements synchronized, as though this was a moment of absolute reverence.

Ash hesitated.

His instincts told him to obey, to not stand out, so he lowered himself onto one knee, his eyes never leaving the podium.

The atmosphere was thick with anticipation.

A low hum began to build—not from the crowd, but from the very air around them. The amphitheater itself seemed to pulse with energy, as though the earth was awakening beneath them. The torches flickered wildly, shadows dancing against the stone.

Ash's heart pounded. This wasn't just a ritual. This was something ancient. Something powerful.

Elder Lyra turned the page, her fingers tracing the glowing script.

And then—

She began to speak.