“What do you desire Ambassador?”

The Queen ran her fingers along the larger of the two totems left in the box. The smooth ivory and polished birch, the bright copper head begged to be inside someone. She plucked it from its place, it was heavier than she had expected, warmer as well. It seemed primed just from her touch, as if it already knew her desires. Maybe it was ready, maybe not - but she had a perfect way of finding out presented to her.

The Ambassador’s fine behind was sitting there, ready. Large, round, bubble cheeks glistening with sweat and gently heaving up and down with the Drow’s breath. Sweet, ebony ass ready to defile - made to be defiled.

She made her way to the bedside table, pouring herself a glass of wine. Sipping it, admiring the sight before her. They were slumped over the bed with their legs apart, their cunt dripping - a mix of amber and their own juices.

“Well?”

The Ambassador knew just what she wanted to hear, “A hard cock.”

She smirked and stepped up against them. Wine in one hand, totem in the other, it was a little awkward slipping down to her knees. She sipped her wine again, her nose inches from their beautiful, big butt.

“Part yourself for me.”

They dutifully reached back, their fingers grabbed hold of their cheeks and pulled them open. Their soft pucker revealed itself, deep black and clamped tight. It needed some work loosening before anything would fit inside. Something she had prepared for. She tilted the goblet over their hole and let a trickle of the wine run over them. She shoved her tongue up against their ruined cunt, greedily lapping up all the wine that flowed over them. It warmed her, it stirred them as her tongue polished them. She moved up, the wine trail still pouring over them - her tongue eventually pressed up against their anus. It was hard, unyielding but ready to change. She teased them, pushing a little harder. Her tongue slowly piercing their ass. They tasted of wine and sweat and vanilla, smelled of the same. She had done this before and never cared to mention either taste nor smell, but this Drow was so pampered all of their nethers smelled of vanilla.

Her tongue struggled in, pushing and kneading them. Working them out, stretching their tight hole to fit a large object she now caressed between her thighs. She was still a little tender, shivers of ecstasy kept it from her even though she ached desperately to be full again. No, she kept it between her thighs, letting it warm as she tongued them into submission.

“Mhm,” they were moaning, their fingers tightening against themselves.

“You like that?”

“Yes,” they gasped, “eat my ass.”

She didn’t take orders, but she was willing to work to an agreement. She kissed them, her lips pressing hard against their ring, they worked it open and her tongue drove in harder until it popped through. The totem hummed between her legs, ready for greater things. She pulled it out and up to her pussy lips, pressing it firm against them. She could feel it almost immediately, warmth and wetness spreading her, pushing inside her. She came as it snaked inside her, filling her with some kind of water, but it stiffened when in there and the totem was ready. They were ready as well, just as well her cup was empty.

She pulled herself to her feet, grabbing hold of their ass as she did. Every chance she could get, she’d take.

It was a strange sensation having a cock hanging between her legs, it swayed as she walked, or maybe more appropriately it wobbled. She poured herself more wine, the haze of the glass drunk off a Drow’s ass was starting to get to her. The honey coating her body was starting to stiffen and crack.

She made her way back, tilting the cup against her lips - drinking it all down - before throwing it onto the mattress beside them.

They still had their cheeks spread, dutifully waiting her return - ever dutiful, ready to be fucked. She liked this about the Drow, she liked this about all the Elves that visited her court.

She took a hold of her new totem, brushing it up between their legs and over their cunt. She brought it up, teased them with the copper tip. It was no-where as big as the beast she had taken, but seeing it poking against their ready ass was more enjoyable than seeing herself getting impaled. They squirmed against it, into it as she slowly drove it in.

“How many has this ass taken?”

The Drow moaned, unable to answer the question.

“A few dozen by the feel of it.”

They were fucking tight, it felt as if they were crushing her cock and every little nudge deeper into them nearly brought her to climax. The water inside her surged as she thrust, one inch, two inches, three inches, she could feel it. The wine clouded her and the water melded with her own, she managed to slap a hand against their ass before she lost it.

But the cock didn’t erupt like she expected, her pussy trembled and she nearly collapsed against the Ambassador. She pushed on, the softness of the Drow’s ass against her thighs, the warmed of their ass enveloping her, the way they worked her like a vice - it all stirred her. Every thrust was another cunt shattering climax, but she forced herself deeper and harder and faster until she felt like her brain would fall out. The slap of skin on skin, of the cries and moans of a defiled and gaping hole being reshaped to her satisfaction, it drowned out thought. She straddled them, thrust deeper, water welling in her gut until she bloated. She was close, she could feel it surging up into her, out of her. A tension she could not relieve until she plowed deep and hard and lingered as her entire body rumbled with a coming release.

Then she lost her breath, the world fluttered black, was that what happened? No, everything was black - something was wrong.

Except it wasn’t.

She sat in her throne room, soft satin beneath her bare ass and a giant golden cock between her legs. The marble floors were covered in feet, willing bodies ready to serve her every whim. A Drow woman sat at her feet, their silver hair messy, their black lipstick smeared across her chest and legs, and the gold shaft they had just finished swallowing. That was right, she had finally had the Queen of Kytlec in her grasp. The long war was finally over and the pale white woman was on their knees before her.

“Empress,” one of her soldiers addressed her with a salute.

She twitched, eagerness growing in her loins, “What is your name Soldier?”

“A-alia, mistress.”

She smirked, “You please me Alia, I give you lands and a title and two of my captives to do as you will them.”

They fell to their knees, sobbing, “Thank you Mistress! Thank you!”

She waved them away and her guards helped them up and removed them from her hall. The creature still on their knees was much more interesting to her and well worth the price.

“Radin, I’m glad we finally meet.”

The woman looked up at her, matted black hair and sharp green eyes. In their torn uniform it was hard to see them for what they were - but that would soon change.

“Time to get started on your punishment.”