Ch72: Making it up to Beryl ♥♥

It has been a while since we’ve had a content warning, so... Here are the tags:FemDom, Blowjob, Excessive Cum, Bukkake/Cum Bath.

And here is the content warning:Questionable/Dubious Consent, Restrained, Bound, Gagged, BDSM (without first discussing boundaries), Emotional Manipulation (not sexually or subtly, but it happens), Reliving Past Trauma (to a small degree).

Just as a note, pretty much all of this happens to Krvavy, with her being on the receiving end of those less than pleasant tags. But, don’t worry, she’ll get her revenge on Beryl in the next chapter, turning the table on that tanned tomboy.

“[I take it that this is your home at last?]” Inanna asks as they pass by the final hot spring pool along the path.

“[Yes.]” Krvavy tersely replies, exhaling through her bared teeth.

Beryl glares at the short grey-skinned woman and then at Krvavy, clearly not liking the fact that she can’t understand what they are saying.

Inanna simply ignores the Elf. “[You are holding yourself together quite admirably.]” She tells the barbarian.

That unexpected compliment causes Krvavy to jump slightly. “[Th-thank you.]” She struggles to respond as heat flows through her body.

The air surrounding the three of them is uncomfortably hot and tense. This is an unnecessary test of Krvavy’s willpower, a battle that she is slowly but surely losing. Though the fact that she has lasted this long is admirable.

“Wuuf?” A familiar but faint sound pierces through the air, echoing out from within the stone walls of their home. A chill runs down Krvavy’s spine.

There is absolutely no way that she will be able to keep her composure with Khalia jumping all over her. With the Orc rubbing her toned form and firm breasts all across Krvavy’s body... hands pawing at her cock... tusks and teeth nibbling at her neck...

So, guess this is it.

“AAWWRHOOO~!” The Orc happily howls as she bounds into view.

“No!” Beryl immediately puts herself between Orc and Drakling. “DOWN! Khalia, SIT! Be calm!”

Khalia tries darting around the Wood Elf, but Beryl grabs onto her hair and pulls her back, causing the Orc to whine in pure and utter despair.

“There, my dearest love, Ah’ve got ‘er.” Beryl reassures the barbarian, who tries to ignore the sad eyes of her pleading puppy. She can’t give in, not to herself or her Orc. Not when she is so close to making it...

Inanna doesn’t react to that in the slightest, simply continuing up the path and through the empty doorway as if nothing happened.

“Wha–AAAH!” Thea’s voice screams out from within their bedroom moments after the Dwarf leaves Krvavy’s sight. “WHO ARE YOU!?”

The barbarian enters her home shortly after Inanna, where she sees Thea sitting on the bedding. The noble brat is curled up ever so slightly, with the blankets hastily pulled back to cover herself up. Her face is flushed bright red in embarrassment, and her eyes narrow in anger as she sees Krvavy.

“YOU!” The noble brat points a shaky finger at Krvavy, careful not to let the sheet slip and expose her chest. “What took you so long?! And who did you bring home this time?!” She then glares over at Inanna, eyes going wide as she actually looks at the short woman. “Is that a... a Dwarf!? Where d–”

“Ya’ve a new job now, girl.” Beryl coldly cuts her off. “Teach this Dwarf yer language.”

“What?! But I–”

Thea can barely get a word out before Beryl speaks over her once more. “My dearest love, lets get a move on.” The Wood Elf unties Krvavy’s loincloth in one smooth motion, letting it fall to the ground with the Dwarven pickaxe before she grabs onto Krvavy’s hand once more and immediately turns around.

“Hey, wait! Where are you going?!” The silver-blonde brat indignantly demands to know.

“Our dearest love is quite pent up, so Ah am goin’ ta ‘elp ‘er deal wit’ tha’.” Beryl responds, glancing back over her shoulder impatiently.

“And why do you get to do that?!”

The Elf stares blankly at that brat. “Ya want ta be at the mercy o’ a full week o’ ‘er pent up lust? Ya want ta be ravished ta the point o’ forgettin’ yer name, ‘ow ta talk, and most definitely ‘ow ta walk?”

“N-no! Th-that is not what I meant!” Thea sputters out, looking to Krvavy. “I... I missed you, my Dragon...” Her face flushes even brighter red as she buries it behind the bed sheet.

“Alright, tha’ is enough o’ tha’.” Beryl states as she forcibly drags Krvavy and Khalia along with her.

Inanna simply raises a single thick eyebrow as she watches Drakling, Orc, and Elf depart after having barely even arrived at this ‘home’, leaving her completely alone with a flustered and embarrassed brat who won’t even look at her. And who she has no way of actually communicating with.

“Where.. are we.. going?” The barbarian grunts out, struggling to maintain even a modicum of composure.

“The grotto. Ah like it down there. And it’ll give yer new Dwarf some space. No need ta expose ‘er ta yer lust just yet.”

That response causes a fair bit of annoyance to flare up inside Krvavy. She struggled to hold herself together on the walk up from the grotto, and now Beryl expects her to walk all the way back down there?!

“Wuu-uuuf...” Khalia weakly whines as she walks alongside Beryl, kept in line by the Elf’s other hand still gripping her hair. The rough treatment of her puppy rankles Krvavy’s nerves. But she is barely holding herself together as is. So she simply has to let that... slide.

“Ah’d rather ‘ave ya on my own,” Beryl idly comments with a disappointed click of her tongue, “but she’d just follow us anyway. So might as well involve yer puppy too.”

Krvavy’s eye twitches as she struggles to resist the urge to bend Beryl over and pound the Elf into oblivion. But... Krvavy would rather not have rough sex on the cold and uneven stone floor... It’ll feel much better somewhere more comfortable. That, more than anything, keeps her urges in check. For now.

“Sit there.” Beryl orders while pointing at a stump roughly shaped into a chair, with armrests and all.

Krvavy glances to the side, looking at a large patch of soft moss that Beryl is obviously cultivating down here near her garden. A few thoughts pass through her lust-clouded mind, but Krvavy pushes them aside. Beryl was quite clear that the barbarian has to pay her back for the days and nights spent worrying. A couple words could ‘solve’ that, but... she doesn’t want to have that kind of relationship with this Elf of hers...

And so, with a strained sigh Krvavy musters her willpower and sits down, letting her tail slide through the split backrest. This ‘chair’ was clearly designed for her.

The barbarian has barely taken her ‘seat’ before vines burst out from the ground all around her, binding her arms and legs down and securing them against the stump she is sitting atop of. The suddenness of that attack shocks Krvavy for just a moment, but the frantic beating of her heart quickly snaps her out of it as anger freely flows into her mind.

“What are you doing!?” Krvavy furiously hisses, the rapidly growing rage clearing away some of the lust assailing her self control.

Thinner vines wrap around her horns, pulling taut and holding her head in place.

“AARWAAH–GHHK!” Khalia’s howl is cut off as she meets a similar fate, being bound onto the ground as a vine pushes its way between her plump lips, silencing the Orc.

“BERYL!” The barbarian violently growls, her whole body tense as she pulls against her restraints, though she can’t get them to budge even slightly. Her heartbeat grows frantic and frenzied as her every breath becomes shallow and quick.

The Elf calmly sits down on wooden stool in front of Krvavy, crossing her long toned legs. “Ya levelled up, and got more Divine Favour.” She states, staring the furious barbarian in the eye. “Purchase the upgrade ta Superior Stud.”

“I thought you wanted me to save up for my Blessing.” Those cold, angry words rumble past Krvavy’s lips as the barbarian stares hatefully at her Elf. Her hands tremble and shake, fingers twitching but unable to meaningfully move within their restraints. A pulsing pressure pushes at the backs of her eyes.

“Aye, Ah do. And in fact, Ah’m not lettin’ ya go on another o’ yer foolish adventures ‘til ya get it.” The Wood Elf returns with equal intensity. “So ya’ll ‘ave ta wait longer until leavin’ again, or put more effort inta growin’ stronger. Until then though... Well, ya owe me fer this past week, and this is the only way tha’ ya can repay yer debt. Only way Ah’ll accept, at least. So get on wit’ it. Purchase the damn thing.”

The barbarian’s rage battles with her lust. She is extremely pissed off with Beryl for doing this to her, and would almost prefer to waste her points on something useless just to spite the Elf. But the horny part of her is jumping at the opportunity to purchase such a lewd trait, one that she would otherwise keep pushing off in favour of traits that will make her more powerful.

Another part of her, one which she very much doesn’t want to acknowledge, is screaming and begging for freedom. It will do anything to get out of these restraints. She will do anything...

“Beryl,” Krvavy desperately hisses out, “let m–mmMPH!?” A vine slides between her teeth, completely gagging the Drakling.

The Elf leans forwards and stares directly into Krvavy’s frenzied eyes. “My dearest love, Ah can’t let ya say tha’. We both know tha’ Ah have ta do wha’ ya order. This pains me, its eatin’ away at my mind. Makes me want ta scratch my eyes out. But Ah need ta do this. Fer ya. Ah’m not just doin’ this ta get ya ta purchase a trait. Ah’m not bein’ selfish like tha’. This is... this is fer yer own good. Ya need ta smarten up. Think o’ wha’ Ah’m doin’ right now like a... like a spankin’. Some tough love. Ya need ta be taught a lesson. And if it also pushes back yer next ‘adventure’...

Beryl rises to her feet and steps even closer, bending over at the waist and firmly grabbing onto the barbarian’s painfully stiff cock.

“Do ya understand ‘ow mad Ah am wit’ ya right now? Even wit’ the collar doin’ its thing?” The Wood Elf woman nearly whispers out, her voice strained and tense. Almost pained. “Ya went out on a ‘safe little walk’ through the woods, only ta get caught up in the middle o’ a fight wit’ Dwarves. Are ya suicidal? Ya can only die so many times. Get that through yer thick skull...! Do Ah need ta guilt ya? Do Ah need ta tell ya ‘ow last night Thea bit back tears and tried ta keep ‘er mind off o’ whatever fate ya could’a met?”

While still absolutely furious, Krvavy’s lust can’t help but spike at Beryl’s touch, and the Elf’s words feed her growing guilt. Conflicting emotions battle away in her hazy mind, slowly leading her towards doing what Beryl demanded. The sooner Krvavy upgrades her trait, the sooner she’ll be free from these vines. From these restraints. The sooner Krvavy upgrades her trait, the sooner she’ll be able to get off.

Superior Stud II: Blessed by a divine power, you have the ability to change your fertility at will, between 0% and its base level. Does not affect seed production, simply the chance to cause pregnancies. Can now increase the volume of total ejaculate up to 8L. Sex improves your relationships with others, provided that they find it pleasurable.

“Thank ya, my dearest love. Ah’m sorry fer this, Ah... Ah really am. But this is fer yer own good. It really is. A lecture alone wouldn’t be enough. Yer emotions, the wild beast tha’ controls ya, need ta be put in their place. Let us ‘ope this lesson sticks. Ah don’t want ta ‘ave ta do this ta ya ever again.”

Beryl closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. After a moment, she crosses the last bit of distance towards her less than happy lover, planting a quick kiss on Krvavy’s rather restrained forehead.

Krvavy growls past the vine gag, sinking her teeth deep into it. A leafy, ichorous sap dribbles into her mouth. Bitter and unpleasant.

The various vine bindings remain exactly where they are, not loosening even a little as Beryl drops to her knees between the Drakling’s forcibly spread legs. “Ya are always on top...” The Wood Elf quietly mutters out, her lips gently brushing along the barbarian’s hard, throbbing length. Each soft kiss is warm and would be quite wonderful in any other situation. “But not now... Just this once, Ah am in control... Relax and leave it all ta me... Let yer apology be mine too...”

Beryl’s nimble fingers wrap around the Drakling’s dick. Bit by bit she climbs that colossal cock, her warm breath glancing across its sensitive and swollen tip. With love and care she begins to delicately spread the barbarian’s ample pre across this long length.

The tomboyish Wood Elf looks up at Krvavy as her hands slowly pump up and down, touching each and every ridge that lines this rigid rod. Apologetic eyes filled with love meet those still burning with rage and torment twisted by lust.

Beryl maintains her gaze as she moves back in, wrapping her lips around the end of Krvavy’s needy length with an almost worshipful kiss.

The barbarian jerks and strains at the vines binding her in place. This situation, this scenario... it is a nightmare. A nightmare made worse by the exquisite pleasure that her Elf is lavishing her with. Something that she should be enjoying. This is torture to Krvavy’s lust-drunk mind. She doesn’t want this. But she needs more.

Beryl is taking her sweet time though, savouring each and every shudder and twitch. Ignorant of the reasons behind that tense trembling.

Krvavy’s head goes completely blank for a brief moment, every thought and feeling washed away by the intense pleasure shooting through her conflicted body. The tip of Beryl’s dainty tongue teases at the slit of her cockhead, before gradually moving down as the Elf takes more of the barbarian’s length into her mouth.

Beryl’s teeth gently graze past the flared head and then over the first ridge of Krvavy’s Draconic dick, the slight scraping sensation sending shivers of pleasure through the barbarian. Her lips are stretched thin around its girth, the oversized rod almost too much for the lithe Elf to handle.

Her blue-green eyes still stare straight up at Krvavy, watering ever so slightly but not breaking their gaze for more than a blink. A mischievous twinkle crosses them as Beryl comes to a complete stop, the tip of Krvavy’s cock just barely pressing at the back of her mouth.

Soft green vines twist around the barbarian, sliding over her hips and coiling around her shaft while the Elf’s hands retreat further down. That towering pillar of meat pulses and throbs with the frantic drumming of Krvavy’s heart. A heart that beats faster and faster as more of her body is covered in clinging and creeping vines. Vines that soon begin to methodically pump up and down her length, freeing Beryl’s dexterous hands for the important task of delicately massaging and caressing the barbarian’s hefty balls.

That excruciating pleasure gradually builds, growing greater as her most sensitive parts are simultaneously stimulated. The swollen head of her cock engulfed in the wet warmth of Beryl’s mouth, the teasing tongue trailing down the underside of the first quarter of its tip, the steady stroking of the soft vines coiling around the rest of her length, and the Elf’s hands softly squeezing her sizable sack.

It would feel like heaven if not for the harsh restraints keeping her from even slightly moving the rest of her body, binding her from head to tail. She wants relief, desperately so, but she doesn’t want to enjoy what is happening right now... This nightmarish reminder of a past better forgotten...

Krvavy’s cock twitches in Beryl’s mouth and her sack clenches up against her body. A euphoric pleasure rolls over the barbarian as she teeters at the edge of relief.

But relief doesn’t come, cut off by a sudden and uncomfortable pain.

Beryl’s hands squeeze down above her balls as the vines constrict around the base of her shaft. The Elf hastily pulls her head back, strands of saliva and pre connecting her lips to Krvavy’s tip. “My dearest love...” she throatily moans. “Ah want ta be bathed in yer seed. Yer newest trait is at max, aye?”

Krvavy huffs out through her nose, furious at having her long awaited relief denied to her. In her lust-drunk mind, consumed by arousal and stress in equal measure, that relief is the sole thing she wants. It will, surely, be followed with freedom, after all. So if maxing out the volume of her seed is what it takes... If that is all that she can do to make this pleasured hell end sooner...

The tomboyish Wood Elf smiles as Krvavy’s head jerks slightly, nodding as best she can with vines coiled around her horns and jaw.

All at once the pleasure resumes, with Beryl’s mouth swiftly engulfing her tip once more. The sudden sensations are too much for Krvavy to bear, and she is immediately sent over the edge.

Her whole shaft shudders as it erupts, shooting out a thick jet of cum that slams into the back of Beryl’s mouth. The Elf immediately chokes, though she pushes through it and swallows as quickly as she can. But the sheer amount of seed is far more than she could ever hope to handle, and as the second spurt begins she is forced to pull herself back.

With a hacking cough, Krvavy’s thick cum spills from her mouth as more rains down upon her. The Elf quickly closes her eyes as thick gooey strands spray across her face, coating it in the cream she loves so much.

But a facial isn’t the only thing Beryl gets, as the obscene amount continues to shower down upon her, showing no signs of stopping. Beryl’s body quivers in euphoric bliss, seemingly brought to orgasm simply by being coated in Krvavy’s cum.

A throaty moan forces its way past the Elf’s lips as she topples backwards, landing in a growing puddle of thick white seed.

Krvavy’s mind goes blank as her vision swiftly burns away into white static. She has had plenty of orgasms that have felt like they lasted forever, but this is something completely different. Each pulse of her dick drags on and on. Her lust-addled mind is awash in an eternity of pleasure, each spurt travelling through her thick shaft sending another wave of euphoric relief flowing through her very being, tingling as they haphazardly overlap.

She is in heaven and hell.

The unending ecstasy is burning her brain. It is amazing, pure pleasure. But despite it bringing Krvavy to greater heights than she has ever been, it still isn’t enough. This massive and ridiculous orgasm is no more satisfying than a normal one, just... stretched out. Her lust still demands more.

Rather than true relief, a dull ache begins to fill her body. She came an inhuman amount, an unnatural volume. Her hefty sack is sore and her still-hard cock spasms slightly as the final spurt dribbles down from her tip.

Krvavy’s mouth is dry and she struggles to catch her breath. A burning heat fills her wet cheeks. Bit by bit, and with a fair few blinks, her vision slowly returns to her.

The blurry form of Beryl gradually clears, showing the Drakling a sight straight out of a hentai. It feels ridiculous to even consider it real, let alone caused by a single person. By herself.

The Elf’s short brown hair is soaked in semen, her petite chest completely covered in cum, her beautiful belly is bathed in that batter, and her toned thighs are topped with a thick glaze. Her tanned skin is almost completely obscured from head to toe. Even her long pointed ears have globs dripping from them.

And this tomboyish torturer has never looked happier.

Beryl’s mouth hangs open as musical moans emerge from her lips. Her hands glide across her body, roughly tweaking her nipples and delving deep into her pussy. Occasionally she scoops up a handful, trailing fingers across her toned figure, and delivers it straight to her waiting mouth. But there is far too much for her to consume, and she seems content to simply writhe in pleasure, surrounded by the seed of her dearest love.

Krvavy is forced to watch that for many long minutes. In any other situation she would be more than fine with doing so. After all, she does find it incredibly hot, if rather odd. But her mind still screams and rages at being bound like this. Being unable to move anything but her eyes. And as sore as her body is, it still wants more, so being forced to do nothing but watch... It is to much for the barbarian.

Her vision wavers, head swirls. She struggles to take in air through her nose. Each breath is too sharp, too shallow... The pressure in her skull grows and grows... like a balloon being filled beyond is limit.

“Haaahh~...” Beryl sighs out in pure relief, her glassy eyes opening ever so slightly. She seems more than content to just lay there, at least until her gaze falls on Krvavy’s throbbing cock. “Ya... ya still want more...? Oh, my dearest love~! Ya are just insatiable~!”

With a lusty laugh the Elf begins to rise, standing on shaky legs. “Just... just give me a moment, my... my dearest love...” She pants and gasps, slowly stumbling away. Even her back is covered in cum, the taut muscles coated in a fine glaze from lying in it.

Beryl makes her way towards the narrow waterfall cascading down from the platform high above. But Krvavy’s eyes cannot follow her, as the barbarian is bound in place facing the lake at the center of the grotto.

Nothing but the sound of her own heart hammer away, beating wildly and frantically, fills the Drakling’s ears. Seconds stretch into an eternity.

Despite the growing soreness across her body, Krvavy still struggles against her bonds. There is nothing else for her to do. Nothing else that she wants more than to break free. But that resistance is in vain. She still cannot budge her limbs even slightly, securely strapped down as she is by these damn vines. If she could just move a little... If she could just get some leverage...

“Shh...” Beryl’s soft voice whispers out from behind her. “My dearest love, don’t... don’t ‘urt yerself. Relax...”

The vine in Krvavy’s mouth swells and grows softer as a sickly sweet sap begins to flow from where her sharp teeth have dug into it. The sap is like a thick and leafy syrup, tasting almost medicinal as it quickly fills her mouth.

Her heart beats faster and faster as panic begins to rise up in her animalistic mind. It is almost like she is drowning, her tongue and mouth too dry to swallow the sticky liquid clogging her throat. But before she can begin to choke and cough, the vine abruptly fades away into flakes that fall down her body.

“Drink.” Beryl gently orders, pressing the mouth of a large stone jug against her lips.

Cold water flows into Krvavy’s mouth and she eagerly gulps it down with the thirst of someone lost in a desert.

The barbarian gasps out as the jug is pulled from her lips, but that faint feeling of relief doesn’t last very long as a new vine immediately pushes back between her teeth.

“Shh... My dearest love...” The Elf’s voice caresses Krvavy’s ear, attempting to soothe her angry growls and muffled grunts. “Ya are still pent up, so this isn’t over yet. Just sit back and let me take care o’ ya~. We’ll burn out all this need and energy and stress~... So just relax, my dearest love~... Relax and let yer needs be met~...”

A chill of cold anger runs down Krvavy’s spine.

She can’t... no, she won’t let her Elf get away with this.