*Please bear in mind that this is a rough noncon scene. You shouldn’t proceed further if such scenes cause you discomfort. In that case, I have a variety of consensual stories on my profile that you may enjoy instead.*
***
It wasn’t meant to be this way. Nearly three centuries of prosperity burning in the late afternoon sun. But so it was—how often the third generation grew complacent, leading her familial legacy to abject failure. And Melian was that—the granddaughter of the legendary Elven Empress Aliyora. It was she who had built the Elven Kingdom into the thing of legends. That wicked empress ruled with an iron fist and a poisonous kiss, luring many a simple-minded man to his demise.
And now…now Aliyora’s granddaughter glanced up at her portrait—positioned in the center of a trio of like portraits that hung above the Throne of Thorns. The Elven Queen squeezed her eyes tight—the brilliant blue of an unimpeded spring suddenly burning red—and turned to her advisor. “Report, Reginald.”
The elf was lanky and tall in his gold-fringed royal uniform, “The outer wall has fallen, the inner wall breached. There are so many, my Highness. I’m afraid…I’m afraid our intelligence was mistaken.”
Melian had fallen into a familiar trap. When she ascended to the throne after her mother, she surrounded herself with sycophants, pushing out any generals and advisors who dared to cross words with her. And, so famous for her ill temper, she had buried herself in delusion. The Court’s subjects brought her nothing but good tidings and had all but ignored the boiling menace of greenskins at their border. When the first village—that of Holly Hill—fell, they said it was a pyrrhic victory for mostrous bastards, that their numbers would never be capable of supporting a proper assault.
In that moment, staring into Reginald’s swirling green eyes, her temper flared once more, “Seize this fool! Take him to the dungeons!” She basked in that moment of unchecked power, because, deep down, she knew it might very well be the last time she could freely indulge in wrath.
***
“Collar the wench!” The orcish warlock Belphedor dug his boots into the precious velvet runner that led to the Queen’s throne.
He was preceded by a troop of elite warriors—comprised of hulking masses of muscle with blackened steel armaments—who secured the castle before bursting into Melian’s royal chamber. Two such meatheads held the defeated damsel by the wrists, pulling her arms wide so that her heavy chest swayed with each heaving breath. A third brute stepped up from behind, grazing the back of Melian’s elaborate blonde plait with a thick bulge forming against his trousers. He placed a crude metal collar around her slim neck.
She whispered under her breath as the collar clasped shut, desperately trying to conjure a whip of thorns to upend the interlopers.
Belphegor chuckled, his glass eye spinning wildly as he stepped forward, “Your spells will do you no good now, Melian. Go ahead, try all you like, I’ll wait.” He stopped just short of her, staring down with a cruel grin as she continued to murmur incantations. The collar around her neck began to glow red, emitting heat as it absorbed her attempts at magic.
“Ah!” she let out a squeal of pain as it singed her porcelain flesh.
“Enough. This is a waste of time.” The warlock lifted his gnarled hand high, swooped down in a snakelike motion and then pointed a crooked finger at the elf’s mouth. Her luscious lavender dress burst open, letting her heavy breasts bounce freely against her hyper-ventilating chest. Her mouth snapped open too, her plush lips held wide in a stretched “O.” A river of drool began to pour over her bottom lip, running like a slow-moving river down her chin before breaking like a syrupy waterfall in thick strands of spit that broke against her chest.
“Wha—what are you doing?” She managed to contort her tongue to speak, despite her paralyzed mouth.
“Getting started.” The warlock laughed again as two warriors closed the doors behind him.
Melian’s reddened eyes stole a glance at her grandmother and mother’s portraits. A single tear ran down her cheek as she realized her humiliation would occur beneath the watchful gaze of two generations of elven royalty.
Belphedor grasped her slender chin, lifting it to look in his wild, brimstone-colored eyes. “What’s the matter? Not used to being on her knees, eh? Don’t worry, you’ll grow accustomed.” He rattled his brass buckle, undoing his trousers as his entourage looked on with anticipation. One green-skinned soldier was already rubbing an obvious bulge against while he waited for the warlock to begin.
Melian tried to turn away as the orc’s pants fell to his ankles. He pushed out his own throbbing erection–that massive green cock that teemed with veiny desire. The queen’s mouth remained open, drool running like syrup over her bottom lip. She tried to look away, turn away, but she felt drawn to Belphedor’s member. He didn’t give her much opportunity to reckon with what was about to unfold. He thrust his hips forward driving his cockhead against her plush pink lips. Her mouth spread wider to accommodate his girth.
“There you go. Orcs have much larger cocks than elven men. Something you’ll have to get used to.” His gnarled fingertips–abused from his excessive dalliances with dark magick–spread over her skull. He held her firmly as he shoved his length deeper into her warm mouth. He slid over her tongue, which she was forced to flatten to make room for him. Then he was shoving his way against her palette, trying to dive down her throat.
Her eyes looked up at the warlock, begging for mercy as he pushed his way against her gag reflex. “You don’t suck much cock, do you Melian? No matter, we’ll break you in. You and the other elven bitches only have one purpose: to serve as obedient fuckelves for my men.”
***
It was moments later that Belphedor was enlisting the services of one of his soldiers. The commander of the expeditionary force stepped forward, his rippling mass struggling against his leather garments.
“Skarth, come here and take the queen’s mouth. I’ll have that fabled elven cunt now.”
The warrior stepped forward. He locked eyes with the queen, who was bent over on all fours, her plush breasts swaying with the force of Belphedor’s crude humping. The rest of the entourage listened to the wet, sloshing sound of his precum mixed with her juices getting pushed back inside her narrow elven pussy. The grizzled warlock was breathing heavily, exerting himself perhaps more now than he ever had before.
Something about seeing this Melian in such a degrading situation, letting this filthy orc ply away at her perfect elven cunt, made the blood course violently through the thick vein atop Skarth’s cock. It stood nearly straight up, pointing towards the ceiling. The lust inside him was so great, so immense, he thought that he could fuck the defeated elf in every conceivable position for hours.
Skarth caught the warlock’s eyes—his hands were digging into Melian’s plump rear and he didn’t bother to stop his thrusting even while he nodded, urging the soldier to enter the queen. As though making a token of good faith, he reached forward and grabbed a palmful of her hair. He pulled back, such that she was forced to stare at the *new* surging green cock before her. Skarth’s was both thicker and a tad shorter than Belphedor’s and the queen grimaced as she realized the soreness in her jaw wouldn’t have the chance to subside.
“Ready to suck the second of *many* orc cocks that away you, your *highness*?” the warlock cackled, his words punctuated by the slapping of his flesh against her bare ass. He kept his grip tight on her hair as the tip of the soldier’s cock—glistening with a small spray of precum—pushed against her chin. “I’ve got her cunt well-occupied for the moment, so why don’t you make use of her mouth.”
Skarth grabbed the ponytail Belphedor had made of the queen’s tousled hair and gave her a rather forceful jerk. Still recalcitrant the queen let out a yelp and protested, “This is enough. I’ll surrender my kingdom, but there’s no need to humiliate me like this!”
The other orcs laughed. Skarth was uninterested in her pleas and simply thrust his hips forward, forcing his fat green dick inside her mouth. He grunted with satisfaction, “She’s got a fiery tongue, but at least she knows how to put it to good use.” He didn’t bother to take it easy. He slammed his girth down Melian’s sore throat, pressing the slick sweat of his heavy balls firmly against your chin within one forward thrust.
The queen’s saliva coated Skarth’s length, running across the bulging veins of his member as he struggled past her gag reflex. He wrapped both of his large, muscular hands around her head and thrust his upper-thighs against her pale, pristine cheeks.
He pulled back on her burning blonde hair, forcing her teary eyes to look up at the burly form towering above as his cock disappeared inside her mouth. The only other sound was Belphedor’s tireless assault on her rear—he already sounded like he was drawing close to an orgasm. Spurned on by the excitement of seeing the defeated queen penetrated from both ends, he picked up his pace and began thrusting her small body forward, where she could do nothing but choke on Skarth’s cock.
The two orcs began to time their thrusts, one waiting for the other to thrust the queen’s slender body forward or backward, then the other returning the favor. They were batting her back and forth like a plaything, Belphedor’s thick dick burying against her cervix, thrusting the queen headlong onto Skarth’s fat shaft, where she choked, sputtered, and gagged. Then, as she tried to steady herself on all fours, he would thrust back, pushing her hard back onto the bastard warlock’s cock.
They continued to bat her back and forth, much to the enjoyment of the other orc warriors who were stroking themselves while watching. They knew they’d get their turns with the queen or one of the other captive elves eventually, so far now they were satisfied with watching.
Melian’s dress was in a heap now, bunched–with little regard for its fine artisanal silk–around her waist. Belphedor grabbed the rolled up fabric and used it to pull the queen back onto his cock after Skarth thrust her skull onto his green slab. The royal chamber was filled with the echoing sounds of a pussy defiled and a pair of vocal cords displaced by cock. She wanted to push one of the beastly orcs off of her, but she couldn’t raise a hand without losing balance. Everytime she lifted an arm, placing it against Skarth’s muscular thigh in an attempt to push him off or at least slow him down, she nearly fell over as each brute rocked her to and fro.
Eventually, she seemed resigned to her fate, allowing the greenskins to fuck two of her holes with complete abandon. The warlock picked up on her apparent surrender, “You see this, men? The elven whore is already subdued. She’s not much of a threat with no army to hide behind. All that sass disappears when she’s got two monstrous cock stuffing her cunt and throat.” Then a cruel smile passed his lips.
He spoke to everyone in the room, “Something you should all know is that these prissy elven bitches are reluctant to swallow anything but an elven male’s sperm. They’re obsessed with racial purity and believe themselves above all other species. So, what will we have to do about that?”
“Fill each and every elven slut with our seed!” The guards replied in unison. They had practiced this. Belphedor grunted his approval.
Melian tried to sputter words of disgust around Skarth’s emerald cock, “Blphasuumey! Ewlves vill nwever su–”
Skarth shoved his entire length inside the wench’s throat, his taut balls splayed across her pointed chin. “Shut yer trap, whore.”
Belphedor took one hand from the queen’s bare waist to twirl it about, casting a quick incantation. Melian suddenly felt a tugging at her breasts–both exposed where the orcs had pulled down her fine dress. There were glowing blue bands wrapping around her bubblegum pink nipples, like tiny whips of electricity. They lashed against her areolas and then pulled downwards, stretching her jiggling tits towards the velvet carpet. She tried to cry out in pain, but could only manage to vibrate her throat against Skarth’s dick.
The sensation of her pleading throat constricting about him drove him over the edge. His claw-like hand closed around the queen’s head. Squeezing her skull tightly, he thrust one more time as deep as he could and instantly burst. Orcs are infamous for their plentiful sperm and Skarth was the perfect example of that–he emptied several hot, thick ropes directly into Melian’s esophagus.
Though she did her best to rapidly swallow the brute’s seed, it came much too fast and far too heavily. She coughed and sputtered, white overflowing along the edges of her mouth where Skarth’s cock left the slightest of gaps. The semen ran down her chin and began to soil the carpet. She looked up at the muscular mass, pleading with her reddened eyes pleading for a little mercy. But he simply held her there as he emptied his load, only retracting when every last drop of cum had emerged.
He pulled his softening dick out and began to slap it against the queen’s face–now smeared with ruined makeup, tears, spit, and orc cum. The warrior shoved his balls between her lips, “Suck, you royal bitch.” She did. Her pink tongue lapped the ridge that split his testicles and she practiced taking each orb against her cheek in turn.
While she was lavishing her formerly razor-sharp tongue over Skarth’s balls, Belphedor was nearing his to his own climax. His black nails dug into her plush ass cheeks as he spread them, exposing her puckered asshole He shoved a thumb against it, moving it in small circles as he worked to spread her for him.
“Ah! What are you–” Melian tried to look over her shoulder but Skarth snatched her by the hair, thrusting her back against his slick testicles.
“Here it comes, you breedable little fucktoy.” The warlock worked the first knuckle of his thumb inside Melian just as he came, spraying his thick and plentiful seed past her cervix and into her womb.
“It’s so much!” She cried as some sloshed out of her pussy to splatter onto the floor.
Belphedor smacked her royal ass once, twice, thrice. Then he snatched her by her hair and pulled her from Skarth’s groin. He held her up for the whole room to see. Her bare, reddened tits swaying above her bunched and ruined dress. Spit and cum ran down her chin and made a pearl necklace around her neck. Her thighs too, glistened with sperm.
“I present to you all, the conquered Queen Melian!”
The room cheered as they hauled her away.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/wp5seu/the_elven_queen_falls_to_the_invading_orcs_mfm