Mildes was a new adventurer, an elven cleric setting out on her first real quest. Despite her relative inexperience, she had trained long and hard under her elven godmother, Etheria. Mildes was well-equipped in both offensive and defensive magic, wielding a long staff carved from Elven oak and topped with a large emerald that glowed in accordance with her power.
She stood in the center of Hill Hollow, before the bounty board, considering what quest she might take on. Her wide, blue eyes fixated on the simpler tasks, which would serve as a quick way for her to ingratiate herself with the locals. She was short in height, barely topping five feet, so stood on her tip-toes to inspect the wooden board.
Her attire reflected her low level of experience: a simple white cotton robe that extended to her ankles, covering a pair of knee-high, matching white boots. A slit up the center gave an alluring peek at her soft thighs. The robe was closed around her waist with a simple ribbon belt. A low neckline provided an attractive view of her cleavage—Mildes was surprisingly top-heavy for such a slim, short elf. Her light blonde hair was tied into an elaborate plait that ran down her back—so long it nearly reached her backside. Dressed traditionally, she stood out quite obviously in Hill Hollow, where elves were seldom seen.
The elf was so focused on the bounty board that she barely noticed a tall shadow fall over her. A large warrior had stepped up behind her and was reading the board over her shoulder. He let out a grunt before formally announcing himself, “How ya doin’ lass?” His heavy hand smacked her ass, turning the heads of several sailors hurrying by. “Wanna accompany me on a little quest to slay a camp of goblins? You look like you could keep a warrior warm.”
The burly hunk of muscle and mass gave her a flirtatious smile. Despite a deep scar through one of his eyebrows, he was quite conventionally handsome. He looked like he was chiseled out of marble, with a strong jaw and angular facial features to match. His eyes were a deep, emerald green, and they seemed far more concerned with roving around Mildes’ body than in inspecting the quest board.
The cleric reacted in surprise and disgust, “Excuse me! Is that a really an appropriate greeting? Perhaps the folks of Hill Hollow are accustomed to such rude behavior, but I’m an *elf* and we do not appreciate such vulgarities. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m searching for an appropriate task.” She turned with a huff, hoping that barbarian would sod off.
He stepped closer, leaning forward to speak directly into her ear, “Like I said, hon, already got a quest. It pays pretty well and should be easy enough. Goblins ain’t a problem for me anymore.” He smacked her ass again, but this time he held on, pulling her close to his armor-clad body. “Need a healer to keep me running, though. You look like one—don’t see many elves around these parts. I’ll let you tag along—and even give you half my earnings—if you give me a blowjob once we’re out of town. You look like you might have some trouble taking a big cock, but that’s half the fun, right?” He smiled broadly as he inspected her again, this time lingering on her exposed cleavage. “By the way, I’m Ragnar.”
Despite her disgust, Mildes sensed an opportunity. She wiggled her way out of Ragnar’s rough grip and nodded, “Fine, fine. It’ll be good to have a companion. I can practice my healing spells on you. But I’ll have you know I can manage on my own just fine—I’m a mage, not simply a healer.” She ignored his other request, thinking it best not to engage in his obscenities, “We’ll split the gold. That’s a deal.”
They made a bit of an odd couple walking down the well-worn path that led out of Hill Hollow and into the countryside. Ragnar was at least a foot and a half taller than the elf and much wider. His muscles bulged against his worn steel armor. He didn’t exactly wear an elaborate outfit, but it was clear that he was a seasoned mercenary, perhaps more concerned with work than looking fancy.
Eventually, Ragnar turned to Mildes, giving her a side-eye that barely concealed his lustful examination of her body. “No offense little elf, but you don’t look like terribly experienced. You’re still wearing basic cotton robes. And that staff looks like it was carved from a broken branch you found in a creek bed. Bet your spells would be more like a pinprick to goblin scum. How about this: I’ll let you give it a try, but when you fail and I have to save your ass…well, you’ll let me use that sassy mouth of yours. And you’ll do it with your pretty ass out on the forest floor. But if you do succeed, I’ll let you keep all the gold. Only fair, right?”
He rubbed his heavy palm over his short black hair. It seemed like a reasonable bet to him—if Mildes was so sure of herself, she should surely take the bait. The mere thought of the voluptuous elven cleric on her knees was giving him an erection. An obvious bulge formed against his brown pants—a clear indication that his body wasn’t the only thing that was big.
He jerked his thumb towards the tree line, “Goblins hang out right there by that small stream. Been ambushing merchants and farmers trying to pass through the Blackwood. Go ahead and take the lead. I’ll let you get off the first few shots, before I have to jump in and smash some skulls with Bertha—my axe.” He smacked her ass again, this time so hard that he thrust her forward, nearly tossing her to the ground. “Go on, I’ll enjoy the rear view.”
Mildes was irritated by his constant flirtations but decided to accept the bet. She would relish the opportunity to embarrass the brute and take the full reward for the quest. “Deal,” she said with a matter-of-fact nod of her head. “I’ll show you that I’m not some armchair magic-wielder. I’ve got plenty of practice and can make quick work of those little buggers.”
She made a valiant effort, stepping forth in an attempt to slay the green pests. She cast a wicked bolt of blinding light, which made direct contact with a beast who was busy trying to grab fish from the stream. The goblin looked about, confused by what to him felt a little like a pinch on his rear. He shrugged and returned to his position, staring deep into the water as he watched carp swim by.
Ragnar burst into raucous laughter. He doubled-over and slapped his knees with hearty glee. It was several seconds before he finally collected himself and addressed Mildes. He did so while wiping a tear from his eye, “Well would you look at that? You might have given the poor bastard a bruise? Bahaha!” He exploded into laughter once more before unsheathing his mighty two-handed axe and leaping headfirst toward the monsters.
With a wicked flourish and a wild twirl, he knocked down the group. He was like an oversexed whirlwind tearing through creatures that were a third of his size. Some he picked up by the head and pelted into the distance like footballs. Others he gave a good kick, punting them far into the air before they disappeared beyond the low clouds.
He was clearly over-leveled for this sort of quest and took great pleasure in bowling over the goblin infestation. He cleared the camp in a few moments at most and ended by doing elaborate flexes with his bulging biceps and triceps.
After completing his task, he crouched down and grasped a bone necklace from the goblin leader, a trinket he would take back to Hill Hollow’s city guard as proof that the job was done. Then he rose, his hulking body glistening beneath the late afternoon sun with the light glimmer of sweat. He walked back up the riverbank and smiled broadly at his elven companion.
“Well, I’m afraid that you need some practice. You’re even more inexperienced than I would have guessed. If you play your cards right, I’ll let you tag along as my healer…” he paused for a moment, leading Mildes’ eyes down to the erection pressing hard against his trousers, “and my fuckpet. We had a deal didn’t we? On your knees now. I hope you’re better at sucking cock than you are at killing goblins.”
Mildes shook her head in dismay. She glanced over her shoulder, considering whether she might just bail on this whole endeavor. But she also didn’t want to miss out on the gold, which Ragnar now held the key to. “Fine, fine,” she finally managed, shooting him daggers with her piercing blue eyes. “Let’s make this quick.” She fell to her knees in defeat, hiking up her robe and holding it in a bunch near her thighs so as not to dirty it.
There was the clanging of a brass buckle as Ragnar hurriedly undid his trousers. He shoved his massive palm inside his cotton briefs and began rubbing his intimidating erection. “You know, I’ve never had an elf before. Plenty of human wenches. Fucked a Tiefling once too—she was sprightly. I always heard that elves were stuck-up, but obedient little cocksuckers if you trained them properly. Let’s see if that’s the case with you, Mildes.”
Ragnar grabbed his elf friend by the hair and pulled her against his waist, shoving her lips against his cock, which was pushing aggressively against his undergarments. “Ever sucked a barbarian off before? Or are you to uppity for that? Doesn’t much matter now.” He hooked a thumb over his waist band and pulled down, letting his thick, heavy cock fall like a tree trunk onto Mildes’ forehead.
“Look at that!” He exclaimed, “It’s bigger than your face!” They were just off the dirt-packed road now, where any wandering traveler or merchant could pass and see Mildes the Elven Cleric kneeling down to pleasure Ragnar the Barbarian.
He began thumping his cockhead against her forehead, forcing a thin strand of precum to break off against her hairline. “Fair warning, I’m not exactly the gentle type. But if you think you can battle goblins, then I’m sure you can handle a rough little throatfucking, eh?” He shifted his hips back, dragging the veiny underside of his appendage across Mildes’ flawless face before positioning his length directly against her lips.
She spread her lips modestly, suddenly grappling with the gravity of her situation. Ragnar certainly *was* well-endowed. Mildes thought he might be all bluster, an insecure meathead hiding a small member, but she wasn’t so lucky. While this elf was no virgin, she certainly wasn’t accustomed to the apparently aggressive ways in which humans enjoyed copulating.
Ragnar tossed his head back and let out a low grunt of pleasure as he began his indelicate descent down Mildes’ tight throat. The wide-brimmed head of his cock pushed against her lips, spreading her mouth wide enough to make her jaw sore. The muscular warrior—almost cartoonishly larger than the poor elf—grabbed Mildes’ breast while a strand of spit broke from her bottom lip and splattered between her cleavage.
“Never taken a proper cock, eh?” The barbarian teased as he continued thrusting against her gag reflex. “Don’t worry, I’ll open you up.” He spread his legs further apart in the overgrown grass where Mildes kneeled. He was preparing to make a new assault, but first withdrew his now spit-slick flesh dagger, drawing it free of the robed cleric’s lips with a loud *POP* before immediately smacking its wet crown against her pale cheeks.
“I like my throatsluts nice and messy. We had a bet, didn’t we? No conditions. I take it I can use your mouth however suits me. I should think an arrogant little elf like you could use a stern fucking, hm? Put you in your place.” He lectured her as he continued to slap his heavy dick in a circular pattern around her delicate face, moving from cheek to forehead to cheek to chin.
He could easily toss her on her belly and fuck her senseless if he liked. But for now he was concerned purely with their bet and with obtaining the full extent of his reward. To Ragnar, a blowjob was more of a very intense facefucking. He wanted that sassy elf to choke on his steel shaft. To gag as he pushed into her esophagus. And to finally beg for every ounce of cum weighing his balls down.
The brute shifted his hips back again and prepared to renew his fucking, but this time his lips curled into a wicked grin. “I was just getting warmed up, cleric. You barely took half my length. Think that’ll fly? You’ll suck until I cum. Now be a good little elven slut and open wide.” Before thrusting forward, Ragnar leaned over the small woman and yanked at her robe, pulling it up enough to expose her rounded rear to the cool summery breeze. He winked down at her, “I knew you had a nice ass. Wouldn’t mind a piece of that in a bit.”
Giving her little time to respond and to regain control of her clothing, he slammed back between her lips, this time with much greater force. His cock hit the back of her throat before diving deeper into her oral cavity, causing her throat to distend as his great size stretched it. He kept pushing, ignoring any gagging, choking, or pointless protests from Mildes.
Soon enough, his balls were bunched against her chin and he pulled her hair backwards, forcing her to meet his expressive eyes while his cock was buried in her throat. He smiled at her, pausing while he held his entire length inside her. After a few moments, he gathered her braid into a handle and held it taut. Then he began his assault in earnest, thrusting his hips back and forth to slide as much of his cock as he could fit inside her while he held her head in place.
He grunted between the wet, sloppy throatfucking, “Won’t quit ’til you make me cum. Hope you can handle it, Elf.”
The countryside filled with the wet, sloppy glucking noises of the Elf’s narrow throat being stretched quite large by Ragnar’s imposing member. He had little regard for her comfort, pumping her head into his groin as though he were using a fleshlight. His rippling abs flexed in the sunlight as he gazed down on Mildes, watching with glee as thick speckles of spit dripped onto her already revealing robe. There were a variety of wet spots forming across the fabric on her chest and a glistening river of translucent fluid running between her jiggling breasts.
Ragnar looked up, slowing his rough thrusting, as he noticed a horse-drawn carriage approaching. There was a man riding with a load of wares. He looked like he may be a mage, perhaps traveling to Hill Hollow to deliver some herbal supplements or potions. Ragnar nodded to the man, freeing his heaving erection between Mildes’ lips and pummeling her face roughly with its crown. There were long strands of spit mixed with precum that snapped off against her eyebrows and cheeks and even her nostrils.
“Afternoon. Just having a bit of fun with my elf pet,” Ragnar addressed the man, still holding Mildes beneath his thunderous appendage so that she couldn’t see who was watching her from behind.
“I can see that,” the man replied, taking out an elaborate wood-carved pipe and stuffing it with tobacco. “She seems well-trained and has a wondrously round ass,” he commented, pointing towards the elf’s exposed rear.
The barbarian snorted, “You should have seen her a few minutes ago. All sass. I like her a lot better with something shoved down her throat.” He leaned over her, examining how attractive her bare ass looked pushed out into the grass, “And you’re right about her backside—it’s just as nice as the front. Though I haven’t had the chance to use it yet.”
“Well, I won’t bother you.” The man said as he lit his pipe. “I’ll just watch if you don’t mind. And perhaps you’ll like a ride back to town when you finish? I’m Ambrose by the way.”
“Well, isn’t that nice. Don’t you think, Mildes?” He wrapped his fingers around her chin and turned her spit-soaked, reddened face to the mysterious Ambrose. Then forced her to nod as a thick glob of drool broke free from her chin and landed on her exposed breast. “Mildes has agreed to be my little healslut, but I’m just beginning to break her in. You’re welcome to watch as I finish with her.”
Returning his focus to the pathetic looking Elf beneath him, he turned her back to face his veiny length. “I’ve got a big load for you, Mildes. Just wait.” He plunged against her throat once more, this time even more violently, perhaps spurned on by a desire to give Ambrose a particularly lewd display. He enjoyed demonstrating his dominance to others—whether it was the elf who had unfortunately lost her bet or the merchant who happened upon her debut as Ragnar’s submissive cocksucker.
He pushed her robe down off her shoulders, letting her plush tits bounce free as the fabric gathered about her waist. Then he pushed deep inside her, letting bubbles of spit form around his massive balls while he held her in place.
Grunts and groans filled the air as it became clear the man was approaching orgasm. “Here it comes, Mildes. I hope you don’t mind a facial.” His cock hardened a final half-centimeter, indicating that his orgasm was at hand, and he immediately pulled free from her mouth. He directed his soaked crown at her face and shot a hot blast of sticky cum. Then another. And then three more. Each convulsion let out a thick rope of semen that landed on Mildes’ cheek or across her forehead or down her chin.
Once finished, he shoved his still large, but softening cock between her lips and gazed down in satisfaction at the mess before him. “Suck it clean, elf.”
Mildes breathed heavily, gasping against Ragnar’s flexed thighs as he jerked a final strand of cum against her eyebrow. She lapped at his balls and then returned to his cock, where she sucked hard, pushing her tongue against his cock’s opening to clean it thoroughly. She found herself irritated but also turned on, perhaps unaware of how much she enjoyed being dominated by such a ludicrously strong man. *Male elves would never treat me in such a rude manner,* she thought as she swallowed the final droplets of his semen. She looked up at him, perhaps eager for some praise for upholding her end of the bargain.
The drained barbarian looked down with pride at his accomplishment: a spit and cum-stained elven slut sat in a heap at his feet. She was dutifully sucking the last remnants of his seed from his now flaccid cock. Once he felt thoroughly cleaned, he tugged himself free, grabbed her by the hair and tilted her chin upwards. “Not bad, elf. I almost regret not going double or nothing with you on that bet. Coulda had two holes instead of one.” He burst out into uproarious laughter.
Now quite satisfied from Mildes submissive sucking, Ragnar swooped down and lifted her up, giving her no time to even clean her face in the stream or reassemble her robe before plopping her on one of the hay bales in Ambrose’s horse-drawn wagon.
Ragnar sat beside Mildes, close enough to wrap one of his heavy paws around her waist and rest it upon her thigh. He grinned at her and then looked to Ambrose, “All ready back here, let’s head to Hill Hollow.”
As they proceeded back the way they came, the late afternoon sun beginning to set, Ragnar turned again to his companion. “You know, you look a lot better with cum on your face. My cum in particular. You can try to clean up, but you’re going to look rather sticky going into town. Not to mention all the stains on your little robe. Ah, well, the peasants there appreciate a man who can keep an elf in line. Your kind isn’t always welcome round here. So you best keep close.”
He spread his legs wide, invading Mildes’ space while his hand shifted to grab hold of her plump rear. “We should discuss our next quest. You obviously need a lot of help, I mean, your spell barely did a lick of damage to that goblin and he was nothing special. Simple cannon fodder, really. If you want to be an adventurer, you’re going to need someone who can get things done.” He pressed his thumb to his wide chest, “That’s me! Ragnar the Unbroken!”
He continued on with his offer, “So, we’ll turn in this quest and then select another. Sound good? There were quite a few options on the board in town. One was to clear out an old, supposedly haunted castle. Another to rescue the daughter of a local banker. Apparently she was taken by pirates or bandits. And a third to pick some willow root. That’s an easy one, but there are always bound to be complications when you have to go into the Blackwood. I’ll let you pick. How’s that? Mighty generous of me. You’ll keep me healed and buffed and I’ll do the hard work. Of course, I’ll expect some of this.” As he emphasized that last word, he squeezed Mildes’ ass rather hard.
As they were having their conversation, they were entering the town square of Hill Hollow once more. Ambrose pulled his wagon up to the guard post. The mysterious merchant looked back at his guests, “Getting off here, right?” Ragnar nodded, “Appreciate the ride.”
“Of course. Come see me in Ambrose’s Antiquities if you like. I think I might have an interesting offer for the two of you.”
Ragnar nodded once more and then turned to the cleric, “Well, plenty of options for us now, hm? Here.” He gave her the bone necklace he recovered from camp of goblins. “Run inside and give this to the watchman. He’ll give you the gold. As promised we’ll split it evenly. Hurry up now, don’t got all day.”
Mildes stood up, attempting to straighten her wrinkled and soiled robe. She rubbed at her face as well, but only managed to make Ragnar’s cum more sticky as it spread to her small fingers. Finally, giving up, she hopped down from the wagon and entered the guard post.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/v3irfg/the_elven_clerics_first_quest_doesnt_go_as
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