Eolande, the elven rogue, had a secret power. His very presence, his scent, his aura - all of it was suffused with an intoxicating magical pheromone that drove human women wild with lust. They craved him, they needed him, they would do anything to have him.
And so, with the blessing of his elven kin, Eolande had set out on a quest. He was to travel to the human realm and sow his wild oats, so to speak. To breed with as many human women as he could, spreading elven genes far and wide.
His first stop was a small village in medieval England, a hamlet called Luminara. As he approached, he noted something strange - there were no men to be seen. Only women, of all ages and stations, going about their daily chores.
Eolande smirked to himself. This would make his job much easier.
He strode into the village square, his confident bearing and breathtaking beauty drawing every eye. The women stopped in their tracks, staring at him with unabashed hunger. Eolande could practically feel their arousal thickening the air.
A pretty young maid was the first to approach him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glazed. "Oh, my lord," she breathed, falling to her knees before him. "I've never seen a man so...perfect."
Eolande grinned down at her, enjoying the way her tongue darted out to wet her lips. "And I've never seen a woman so...desperate," he replied silkily. "Tell me, sweetling, when was the last time you had a real man between your thighs?"
The maid whimpered, pressing her face against his groin. "Too long," she whispered. "Please, my lord, let me serve you."
Eolande tangled his fingers in her hair, guiding her mouth to the bulge in his trousers. "As you wish," he purred, letting her nuzzle his hardening cock through the fabric.
But one woman was not enough for him. No, Eolande planned to bed them all - the maid, the baker's wife, the blacksmith's daughter, the widow next door. He would fuck them until they screamed his name, until they begged for his seed.
And so it began. The elf moved from house to house, bed to bed, pleasuring the women of Luminara with skill and stamina that left them breathless and panting. He took them in every room, in every position, making them climax again and again on his thick elven cock.
He fucked the baker's wife in her warm bread oven until she was screaming loud enough to be heard three towns over. He bent the blacksmith's daughter over her father's anvil and pounded into her tight pussy until she could hardly walk. He took the widow up against her kitchen wall, letting her ride him until they both came with a cry.
And through it all, the women begged for his seed. "Fill me up!" they cried. "Breed me! Give me your babies!"
Eolande was more than happy to oblige. He pulled out and spurted thick ropes of elven cum all over their faces and tits, marking them as his. And then he'd slip back inside, fucking them through the aftershocks until they were nothing more than mewling wrecks beneath him.
He continued like this for days, weeks, until every woman in Luminara had been thoroughly debauched by his elven cock. Their bellies began to swell with his children, and they glowed with pride and satisfaction.
Eolande knew he couldn't stay forever. There were still so many more women to breed, so many more villages to conquer. But as he left Luminara behind, he knew that his legacy would live on.
For he had sown the seeds of the elven race, and soon the human world would know the joy of elven-human hybrids. His descendants would spread far and wide, carrying his genes and his desires with them.
And Eolande would continue on his quest, bringing pleasure and elven offspring to women across the land. For that was his purpose, his reason for being.
To fuck and breed until there was no human woman left unchristened by his elven cock.
He now moves towards a nearby castle. As Eolande approached the castle gates, he could already feel the thrum of feminine desire reaching out to him like a physical touch. The magical pheromones that clung to his skin, his hair, his very being - they were like an aphrodisiac to human women, calling to them, awakening their deepest, darkest desires.
The guards at the gate barely spared him a second glance, too entranced by his sheer charisma and beauty to do more than hold open the door in silent invitation. Eolande strode past them with a confident swagger, knowing that he would soon have this castle's women writhing and begging beneath him.
And indeed, as he was led into the great hall, every eye turned to him. Ladies curtsied low, their breasts heaving as they inhaled his scent. Maidservants flushed and squirmed, surreptitiously pressing their thighs together as need pulsed through them. Even the dowager countess, a woman of advanced years, seemed to straighten up, her ancient eyes glittering with renewed vitality.
Eolande bowed with a flourish, letting his lips curve into a wicked smile. "My ladies," he purred, his voice sending shivers down their spines. "What a pleasure it is to be among such...comely company."
The lord of the castle, a portly man with a double chin and beady eyes, harrumphed and glared at him suspiciously. "You are most welcome, my lord," he said gruffly. "But I must warn you - my wife is not one to be trifled with. She is a true lady, and expects to be treated as such."
Eolande merely inclined his head, not deigning to reply. He knew full well what would happen when he set eyes on this noble lady. Her resistance would be no match for his elven allure.
And indeed, when she was finally brought in to greet him, Eolande saw the immediate spark of desire in her eyes. The young bride of the portly lord was a vision of beauty - raven-haired and alabaster-skinned, with a body that even her voluminous gown could not hide.
"Lord Eolande," she said, dropping into a curtsy that revealed the tempting swell of her bosom. "We are honored to have you as our guest."
Eolande reached out to take her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. He made sure to linger, letting his breath ghost over her sensitive skin. "The honor is all mine, my lady," he murmured, looking up at her through his lashes. "I can only hope that my stay will be...mutually pleasurable."
The lady flushed prettily, her eyes darting to her husband before returning to Eolande's face. "I'm sure it will be," she said breathlessly. "I will see to it personally."
And so it began. As the days passed, Eolande made sure to be "accidentally" alone with the lady at every opportunity. He flirted with her shamelessly, whispering compliments and innuendos in her ear until she was quivering with need. He "accidentally" brushed against her in crowded rooms, letting her feel the heat of his body, the hardness of his muscles.
And she responded in kind, her own desire growing with each passing moment. She would find excuses to visit his chambers, lingering on his doorstep and letting her eyes rove over him hungrily. She would stammer and blush when he caught her watching him train in the courtyard, her gaze fixed on the way his clothes clung to his sweat-slicked skin.
Finally, on the fourth night of his stay, Eolande made his move. He found her alone in the solar, supposedly working on her embroidery but really just staring off into space with a dreamy look on her face.
"Lady Isolde," he said softly, approaching her from behind. "You look lost in thought. Pray tell, what could be so interesting?"
Isolde started at the sound of his voice, nearly dropping her embroidery hoop. "Lord Eolande!" she exclaimed, whirling around to face him. "You startled me."
Eolande gave her his most charming smile, letting his eyes linger on her lips. "My apologies, sweet lady. I did not mean to frighten you." He took another step closer, invading her personal space. "Although I must admit, I rather like seeing you like this - flushed and breathless, your pulse fluttering in your throat."
Isolde's breath caught in her chest as Eolande loomed over her, his presence overwhelming her senses. "Lord Eolande," she whispered, "we shouldn't..."
But her protests were weak, and they both knew it. Eolande seized the opportunity to close the distance between them, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss.
Isolde melted against him with a whimper, her lips parting eagerly for his tongue. She tasted like honey and sin, and Eolande groaned into her mouth as he backed her up against the wall.
His hands found her breasts through the fabric of her gown, kneading the soft flesh and rolling her nipples between his fingers until she was writhing against him. "Please," she begged, already humping his thigh like a wanton slut. "Please, I need you."
Eolande didn't need to be told twice. He flipped up her skirts and tore off her smallclothes, exposing her dripping cunt to his hungry gaze. "Fuck," he growled, circling her clit with his thumb. "You're so wet for me already. Such a naughty girl, letting me feel you up like this."
Isolde could only moan in response, too lost in pleasure to care about propriety anymore. She needed Eolande's cock inside her, needed to feel him stretching her open and filling her up.
And he obliged her, freeing his thick shaft from his breeches and notching it at her entrance. With one hard thrust, he buried himself to the hilt in her tight heat, groaning at the feel of her silky walls gripping him like a vise.
"Oh God," Isolde gasped, her head falling back against the wall as Eolande began to piston in and out of her. "Yes, yes! Fuck me harder!"
Eolande set a brutal pace, pounding into her with all the finesse of an animal in rut. He bent his head to bite at her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark on her creamy skin.
Isolde came with a sharp cry, her pussy clenching around him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her. But Eolande wasn't done with her yet - he flipped her around and bent her over the embroidery frame, sinking back into her from behind.
He fucked her hard and fast, grunting with each thrust as his balls slapped against her ass. Isolde pushed back against him, meeting him stroke for stroke as she chased another climax.
When it came, it was even more intense than the first. Isolde screamed Eolande's name, her body shaking and jerking as pleasure consumed her. Eolande followed shortly after, flooding her womb with his hot seed as he roared his release.
They collapsed together in a sweaty heap, panting and trembling as the aftershocks rolled through them. Eolande pulled Isolde into his arms, pressing tender kisses to her face.
"That was incredible," he murmured, nuzzling her hair. "You're incredible."
Isolde smiled up at him shyly, still blushing from the force of her orgasms. "Thank you," she whispered. "I've never felt anything like that before."
Eolande grinned wickedly, already feeling himself growing hard again at the thought of all the things he wanted to do to her. "Oh, my sweet Isolde," he purred. "We're just getting started."
Eolande spent the next few days in a state of utter bliss, fucking Isolde every chance he got. They snuck off to empty chambers and alcoves all over the castle, their coupling always frantic and needy. Isolde was like a woman possessed, craving his touch and his seed more than anything else.
He couldn't get enough of her tight little body, the way she trembled and moaned as he filled her over and over again. He would spend hours with his face buried between her thighs, licking and sucking at her sensitive flesh until she was screaming for mercy.
And then there was Isolde's dear friend and another noblewoman, Lyra, a pretty little thing with fiery red hair and a temper to match. Eolande had caught her watching him more than once, her eyes dark with lust as they followed his every move.
It wasn't long before he had her too, cornering her in the stables one afternoon as she pretended to muck out the stalls. "Oh, my lord," she gasped as he pressed her up against the wall, his hard cock grinding into her ass. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" Eolande purred, nipping at her ear. "I'm going to fuck you until you forget your own name." And he did, bending her over the gate of the first stall and taking her hard and fast, just like he had with Isolde. Lyra wild with lust begged for it.
Lyra was a virgin, and Eolande relished the tight clench of her untouched pussy around him. He took his time with her, coaxing her to climax again and again with his fingers and tongue before finally sheathing himself inside her.
"Fuck, you're tight," he groaned, holding still as her walls fluttered and rippled around him. "I'm going to breed you so hard."
And he did, filling her up with his thick elven cum until it was dripping down her thighs. He left her limp and satisfied, gasping out his name as she came again and again on his pistoning cock.
After that, it was a free for all. Eolande fucked the two friends together, having them kneel before him and take turns sucking his dick until he painted their faces with his release. He had them 69 on his bed, eating each other out while he watched and stroked himself. He took them in every hole, using them like his own personal fucktoys until they were raw and red and dripping with his essence.
The lord of the castle noticed his wife's odd behavior, the way she would wander off for hours at a time, smelling of sex and sweat. But he was too lazy to do anything about it, too content in his own gluttony to care about what his wife did behind his back.
And so Eolande stayed, continuing to breed the noble ladies and mark them as his. Their bellies began to swell with his offspring, rounding out their frames and making them even more delectable to him. He would run his hands over their distended bellies, marveling at the way his children grew inside them.
But all good things must come to an end, and eventually Eolande knew it was time to move on. He said his goodbyes to Isolde and Lyra, kissing them both deeply and promising to return someday to see his children.
They clung to him, tears in their eyes as they begged him not to go as they could not live without the pleasure he provided them with. But Eolande was already thinking of the next town, the next batch of women he would fuck and breed. His quest was far from over.
And so he set off, his heart light and his cock hard at the thought of all the women he would conquer. He would spread his seed far and wide, leaving a trail of elven bastards in his wake.
For that was his purpose, his reason for being. To fuck and breed until there was no human woman left unchristened by his elven cock.