The battle ended in one fell swoop, as the elven king's severed head fell away from his body, leaving the human army victorious. At least for the moment. The prize amongst prizes of the war spoils was the ethereally beautiful queen Amelia Nightraven, subdued and bound, and brought away from her home and people to the castle at the heart of the human kingdom like just another piece of loot dragged from the elven coffers. Even as a widower, cleft from her husband, from her royal palace, and from her people, Amelia stood proud and imperious before the human king in his throneroom, her shoulders straight and chin raised high, not betraying any emotions she felt nor giving them the satisfaction of appearing phazed by them. She thought too little of these miserable short-lifed mortals to think they could do anything to her that would matter anyway; her husband's death aside, and that she would avenge with the full wrath of her kind as surely as erosion would. That was what she thought to herself as she stood there, barely listening to the list of grievances the human king read to her about what her people had done to them. She had assumed she would be sent to a dungeon to sit as a prisoner of war, a bargaining chip to be used by the humans to regain this or that worthless territory or perhaps to gain some fleeting truce for a few years - barely the blink of an eye for elves such as her, but an eternity for the buzzing flies that were these men. And so she stood waiting patiently for her sentence to be read. The ex-queen could not have been more wrong about what was in store for her. As the king finished speaking, he called the guards in, telling them to strip and bind Amelia. Two burly men quickly did as they were told, roughly tearing the regal garments from her and leaving her completely naked, before one all but rammed a heavy steel collar around her throat, followed by overly-heavy shackles binding her delicate ankles and wrists. And then just as that injustice had been made against her the king spoke a line that made her blood run ice cold. "Guards, take this elf to prince. She is to be his plaything, to satisfy his needs in any way. Watch over her closely, and let the prince know this as well: if she causes trouble she shall be severely tortured. Nothing will be held back, save that she will be kept alive to eventually be returned to him."

Amelia stood there, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing. For a moment she thought this might be some sort of sick joke perpetrated by these filthy humans, that they could not possibly mean her - the Queen! Their sworn enemy! She looked at them incredulously, as though they were somehow beneath notice or comment. Her chin still high and proud, even if barely a breath passed through her throat now, Amelia felt nothing but revulsion at what was happening to her. The cold touch of the steel shackles bit into her pale skin like vicious talons, as did the heavy collar that had been roughly jammed about her throat, choking off her air and making it impossible for her to even speak in protest. No, she thought numbly, not like this... such indignities... She tried to keep her face impassive, but her sapphire-blue eyes blazed with

Her entire body trembled with outrage and disgust as the guards dragged her away, shoving her roughly along the cold stone floor of the throne room like some common criminal. The weight of her huge breasts pulled painfully at her chest, nearly sending her sprawling as she fought to keep upright, her long golden hair falling about her face and shoulders in tangled waves as she tried to steady herself. She did not struggle, for that would only earn her further torment, but every step, every breath was a new affront against her dignity and royal pride. As they reached the doors leading out of the throne room, Amelia's eyes sought out some sign of her fallen husband's regal portrait, praying for his spirit to find her and deliver her from this living nightmare. But even as she looked, all that greeted her were the leering faces of the humans who had brought about her down

The soldiers all stopped in their tracks at the prince's words. They glanced to one another uncertainly for a moment before one of them spoke up, hesitantly asking if that was truly what the prince meant. At his affirmative nod, they unlocked and removed the shackles from her wrists and ankles, leaving Amelia standing there shivering and pale, swaying slightly as she fought to regain her balance after having her hands tied behind her back for so long. Her breasts heaved with each breath, threatening to tumble free of the scraps of cloth that still tried in vain to cover them. With a small curtsy that seemed entirely out of place considering their circumstances, Amelia bowed deeply to User#1724511579288, her voice quavering with barely-contained rage and humiliation as she spoke. "Thank you for

Her eyes flashed with fury at his words, the elf queen refusing to hide her feelings even if it meant further incurring the wrath of this mortal boy-king. "You think to play with me like some petulant child? To toy with my dignity as though it were nothing more than a doll?" she spat through gritted teeth, managing to make even this small amount of backtalk sound like an insult. "I am your captive, boy, nothing more. I will obey your commands and suffer your touch if that is what you require, but do not expect me to ever show you any gratitude or respect! My people have lived for thousands of years without the need for humans such as yourself, and we shall continue to thrive long after you and yours are forgotten!"

The guards looked nervously at each other once more before one finally stepped forward, speaking in a low voice. "My

The elf queen shot the guard an irritated look before reluctantly reaching out a slender hand and grasping at his calloused palm. She did not trust these mortals as far as she could throw them, but it seemed they were willing to follow the prince's orders... for now. With another curtsy that still managed to convey her contempt, Amelia allowed herself to be led down the corridor toward what must be the boy-king's chambers. Every step was a test of her will, every breath an act of submission against her nature, but she forced herself to endure it all in silence for fear of what further torments might await her should she give them cause. As they approached the prince's quarters, Amelia glanced around surreptitiously, seeking some sign or means by which she could escape this hellish situation and return to her people. But the guards were watching her too

Her shoulders slumped in defeat as they reached the doors to the prince's room. The guards hesitated for a moment before pushing them open, revealing a lavish chamber decorated with tapestries and finely crafted furniture that served no purpose but to impress those who beheld it. Amelia couldn't help but feel disdain at its gaudy display of wealth and power, unable to comprehend the mortal mindset that would find such excess anything but vulgar and wasteful.

The prince gestured for her to enter, his expression a mix of curiosity and confidence that grated on Amelia's every nerve. With a deep sigh, she stepped over the threshold into the room, her breasts still bare despite the cold air that seemed to surround her like an icy shroud. The guards closed the door behind them, sealing her fate once more as their only means of escape.

The elf queen raised an eyebrow at the human prince's question. She had heard of the stories of races that had once inhabited the world before either her people or the humans, but she had never thought them to be anything more than myth and legend. "Yes," she said slowly, "I have heard tell of such creatures. They were called the 'Azuras', is that correct?" Her voice held a note of incredulity, as though she didn't quite believe these mortals could truly know anything about her ancestors.

The prince seemed to take no offense at her tone, however. Instead, he nodded and said, "That's right. And I have heard that the Azuras were a race of people who lived in harmony with nature, and that they possessed great wisdom and magical abilities." He paused, studying her face intently before continuing. "I am curious to know what you think about

The elf queen narrowed her eyes at the boy's words, his claim to be descended from the mythical race that had once ruled over this world sounding ludicrous to her ears. "I do not doubt that humans suffer in wars as well," she said slowly, her voice laced with barely-contained disdain, "but that does not excuse what you have done to my people, nor does it lessen the pain we feel at our king's untimely demise." She took a step closer to him, anger burning bright in her sapphire eyes. "Your kind has always been nothing but a plague upon this world, a blight that must be cleansed if peace is ever to be found again! The war between our races will continue until either we are victorious and you are wiped from the face of the earth," her words seemed to carry an almost physical force with them, "or

The elf queen's eyes widened in shock as the boy-king before her underwent a startling transformation, his golden irises turning white and an eerie purple aura surrounding him. It was clear that he possessed some kind of power she had never encountered before. For a moment, she was tempted to doubt the truth of what he had said about being descended from the Azuras; perhaps this was not simply a mortal boy playing at being something greater than himself...

Her expression shifted from shock to defiance as she realized that he truly did seem capable of making good on his threats. "Even if it were true," she spat, trying to maintain her composure and dignity in the face of this newfound threat, "and I acknowledge your supposed power, do not think that such a display would be enough to sway me from my duty to my people! Our war against your kind has spanned centuries

The sudden touch of the boy's finger against her forehead sent a shockwave of energy through Amelia's body, and as the last word left his lips she felt her mind begin to cloud over. No! she tried to shout, but no sound came out. I will never forget my duty to my people, she thought desperately, fighting to maintain her identity even as it slipped away from her like sand through fingers. Her vision began to dim, and with it her last shred of defiance.

As consciousness faded, the image of the boy-king laughing mockingly at her came into focus, replaced by a haze of pleasure and desire. No! she tried again, but even that thought seemed to belong to someone else now. The elf queen's body shuddered as she felt herself becoming aroused against her will, the memory of his touch still burning through her flesh like fire.

Her struggles

The last resistance to his spell melted away as her mind slowly surrendered its defenses. The elf queen's body arched forward, pressing against whatever surface it was currently resting upon. Moans escaped her lips, unbidden and embarrassingly erotic. Her breasts heaved with each breath, almost spilling free of their scanty covering as the waves of pleasure washed over her in a relentless tide.

Her eyes fluttered closed, her face flushed with desire. The boy-king's touch seemed to brand her skin, leaving an imprint that echoed through every fiber of her being. It felt... wrong and right all at once; foreign but familiar. Her body responded without thought, the years of repression finally giving way to the natural urges that had been forced down for so long.

Her mind floated free from its moorings, adrift on a sea of desire

The word 'sir' sent shivers down her spine as her mind registered the unfamiliarity of it. Yet at the same time, it felt... right. The boy-king was her master now, and to address him thusly only seemed natural somehow. Her voice came out breathy and soft when she spoke his name, a tremor of desire in its tone that left little doubt as to how she truly felt about this new reality. "Sir," she whispered, arching further into the sensations washing over her.

Her body was aflame with need now, every part of it alive and craving his touch. Her hips rocked gently against the invisible surface beneath her, seeking the friction that would bring her release. It seemed like an eternity since she had been so thoroughly and unapologetically wanton, and in this moment she reveled in it, relishing the freedom from constraint and self

The words seemed to echo through her mind like sweet music, washing away the last vestiges of resistance and fear. For a brief moment, she wondered if perhaps it was all some sort of sick dream from which she would soon awaken, back in her throne room with her king by her side... But as his warm breath caressed her ear and his strong arms held her close, she knew that this was real; her reality now.

Her face flushed even deeper at the compliment, shame giving way to a fiery blush that spread from her chest upward toward her cheeks. She trembled with desire, every muscle in her body taut and quivering as she waited for his next touch, his next word. It felt so good to be desired like this; to finally have the freedom to give in to her baser instincts without fear of censure or reprisal.

Her hips rocked against him harder

Her eyes fluttered shut as his warm breath caressed her earlobe, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure down her spine. "Oh, sir..." she moaned softly, arching into him even more. "You make me feel so... alive." She hesitated for a moment before continuing, her voice trembling with need. "Please... touch me."

Her words seemed to spur him on, and he obeyed without further prompting. His hands slipped beneath the flimsy cloth of her shift, roaming over her soft curves as though he were rediscovering them for the first time. Her breasts leapt into his grasp like exotic creatures longing to be set free once more. The sensation was so intense that Amelia let out a keening moan, her head falling back against his shoulder in surrender. "Ahhh," she sighed deeply, feeling all thought and reason slip away