Razasha the Horny, Chapter 7 - Sore Throats and Severed Fruits (part 2)

[Zapan99]

(2/2)

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The portly merchant was sweating profusely in his mustard brocade coat trimmed with mink fur. The Campanian border guards were highly suspicious of his shipment of spices and semi-precious jewelry. The plain mountain folks of their nation had little use for such frivolities, and travelling merchants had become rare, since the recent wave of monster attacks on the marches of Tedora. His own escort was getting nervous, and things could degenerate at any moment, if he didn’t play his cards right.

“What is in these vials?” said a curious sergeant wearing the colorful red and green uniform of Campania, while shaking a strange oblong container of crystal sealed with red wax. The eyes of the merchant grew wide when he saw the soldier was about to force one of them open with his dagger.

He had to think fast, “Walrus sperm body ointment! I wouldn’t open that if I were you, the odor is quite foul!” the sergeant looked at him with a puzzled expression of disgust. Grabbing the vial with his pudgy fingers covered in silver rings, he added, “Some baroness that I will not name is paying a fortune to import them all the way from Sylvatis. She swears it’s the only thing that prevents wrinkles on her delicate skin.” with a tone that implied he was tricking an old bat. Amused by this bit of gossip that he would not fail to blabber about in the nearest tavern, the sergeant placed the vial back and wiped his hands on his uniform, already foraging in the next crate.

The sweaty merchant knew this would go on as long as he would not grease the paw of that Campanian cretin. “Perhaps this would be more of interest to you, dear friend. I just got these novelty tobacco pouches from the dwarven guild, look how ingenious they are, you just place a couple of leaves here, press this lever and voila! They call them smoke stick. Their fragrance is exquisite, and that’s not all! If you flick this flint wheel, it sparks a flame to enjoy it without delay! Crafty, isn’t it? You can keep it for free, no really I insist.”

The Campanian sergeant looked proud as a peacock, with his dwarven tobacco kit in bandolier and a lit tobacco stick at the corner of his mustached mouth. “Hoho, the guys at the station are going to be green with envy. You’re in!” he said, while slapping the merchant in the back, almost causing his fake beard to fall off.

Turning his back to the guard to brush it flat against his face, the merchant shouted to his small escort, “You heard him, move along!” A few miles down the road, the merchant removed his ridiculous disguise to reveal the traits of counselor Kohlver, the smarmy right arm of king Dorian of Tedora. 

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In the evening light dappled by the canopy of great oaks above him, Juloof was drying his tears with his sleeve, while hastily putting on strange leather gloves and toes shoes covered in scaly pads. Equipped with these, he climbed the closest tree with a supernatural ease, clinging to the bark at impossible angles until he reached a flat fork in the trunk where he decided to hide. He was on edge after the humiliation the girls had put him through, and started to punch and kick a dead branch until a squirrel started to make scolding sounds at him. The gnome totally lost it and loaded his slingshot with a heavy lead ball, while clenching his teeth. “Fuck you, bitch!” he shouted, as the dead squirrel fell off the tree. “Fuck you too!” he said to a woodpecker, the poor bird dying in a flurry of feathers and blood, “And fuck you in particular!” he added, while shooting a large raven out of the sky. Panting, he sat in the tree with his head in his hands, as a dull ache pulsing in his balls reminded him with each new heartbeat that the Slay Belles had severed the bonds of trust he shared with the other members of the Dungeon Blasters. “Those bitches need to pay.” said Juloof to himself, before hearing a feminine voice calling out in the distance. Was that Lolo perched in a tree trying to trick him? No, the voice was different, almost familiar and strangely compelling. Deep within his groin, the gnome felt the need to answer that call.

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A few hours later the same night, Kohlver finally arrived with his men in a small mountain cabin hidden near a seldom used mountain pass, somewhere near the Campanian border. The counselor ringed the small brass bell linked to a chain near the picket fence. Nobody answered. “Ready your weapons, we’re going in.” he said sternly to his men. The five mercenaries in his escort latched small spearheads on their walking sticks and assembled an assassin’s crossbow from various inconspicuous parts. As they were nearing the door, the light of a storm lantern, followed by the racket of the front lock took them by surprise. A beautiful woman in her thirties opened the door in her nightgown. “Counselor! We didn’t expect you at this hour of the night. What a surprise!” The portly man let out a sigh of relief, still surrounded by his armed mercenaries. “You’re late of one week on your latest delivery, Heilwig! Anyway, let’s discuss that inside, shall we?” Annoyed, Kohlver shoved aside the mercenary blocking his path and walked through the door without further precaution.

---

Juloof was walking past the edge of a clearing, unable to believe his eyes. In an oblique ray of sunlight, naked as the day she was born, stood the most lovely gnome lady he had ever seen. With a skin like milk and jet black hair that came down to her knees, that lovely bundle of feminine curves wasn’t higher than three feet tall (91 cm), her soft cerulean blue eyes illuminating an oval face with a cute button nose and moist babydoll lips. She was covering her shame with her hands, unable to completely hide her bubble butt and lemon-shaped boobs, leaving her padded midriff and lovely stubby legs entirely visible. She was calling out for help with a cute nasal voice, “Anybody here? Please, I’m wounded, help meeee!”

The ranger entered the clearing totally enthralled, “Ah, hello? My name is Juloof, I heard you calling and...” without waiting for the end of his introduction the gnome venus ran up to him frantically, until her soft body pressed against his, immediately awakening his desire with a deep throbbing in his loins.

 The sensual apparition pleaded, her supple lips and inch away from his face, with all she had of pillowy goodness pressing insistently against him. “You are my savior Juloof! My name is Amy and I’ve been hit by a hunter’s shot. Look!” She lifted her right breast to reveal her ribs had been grazed by a projectile that left a red gash and bruised her side. Juloof suddenly thought this wound was typical of his lead pellets, but it couldn’t be. In his rage, he’d only killed forest animals, but one of his shots might have ricocheted. His hands couldn’t help but touch the soft skin of her flank, as she sensually rubbed her thigh against his groin. “Please, it really hurts.” said Amy with a plaintive voice.

Juloof snapped of his reverie and started to rummage in his belt pouches, “Don’t fret, my lady. I always travel with this soothing poultice for this kind of wound, it will reduce the swelling in no time.” he said, while producing a small packet wrapped in elm leaves.

Amy cupped her hand around the raging erection that throbbed in Juloof’s pants, “What about your swelling down there? Should I make it go away with my own medicine?” she asked with an innocent tone. Juloof nodded with an eager smile on his face. “Do you want me to do it nice and hard?” The gnome nodded once more, unable to believe his luck. What were the odds of meeting a sexy gnome lady naked and alone in the woods. Why was she naked again? “Alright, there we goooo!” said Amy, while delivering a swift knee to his throbbing nuts, making them bulge atop her kneecap. Still holding Juloof in a bear hug, the ballbusting gnome lady started to pound his crotch with marching knees, alternating the blows with a metronome regularity. “There-we-go-nice-and-hard-for-YOU!” she said, locking up her knee by propping her dainty foot against her supporting leg for the last blow. Juloof’s body was trembling with nervous spasms, his mouth open in a silent cry of surprise. Amy was compressing his nuts with her right knee, leaving no room for them between her thigh and his pelvis. She imprinted small upwards motions by gyrating her hips and contracting her thigh muscles, moaning sexy “Ha! Ha! Haaan?” until she finally unclasped her hands behind his back, letting him slide off her leg, as he gasped for air flat on his back with both hands pressed firmly against his pulsating nuts.

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Kohlver, followed by his men, entered the mountain cabin as Heilwig was lighting up the candelabras in the main room. A great Campanian banner was proudly adorning the back wall, outlining her silhouette as her naked feet danced on the wooden floor, her supple body made easy to distinguish, backlit in her sheer nightgown. “Please make yourself at ease milords, I’m going to wake up the girls, they owe you an explanation.” The mercenaries were already leering and whistling at the blonde vixen, but Kohlver seemed insensible to her ample charms. 

“I sure hope so!” said the portly noble. “I don’t pay you all that money to bother climbing all the way up here myself. If you had difficulties with the production, why didn’t you send a messenger? This delay is unacceptable.” Heilwig graciously invited Kohlver and his men to sit around a large rectangular dinner table, prompting them to leave their coats and weapons on a wall rack. 

She answered while languorously pressing her bosom against the nape of his neck, as she removed his furred coat, “I knoooow, but you don’t realise things don’t run at the same pace up here, opportunities are rare and we have to make do with what’s available.” Heilwig knocked on the door leading to the bedrooms and called out her girls. “My looovelies, come here and service our guests, they need to refresh after a long trip!” 

Kohlver was still eager to know what caused the delay, “So, explain yourself! If this is an effect of running out of aphrodisiac, we just brought you ten more crates. That should be plenty enough!”

The mercenaries immediately started to get rowdy, when five young women in long-sleeved Campanian dresses entered the room. Each of them more attractive than the last, they started to bring cured meat platters and pitchers of wine to their guests. All smiles, the young lasses were openly displaying their ample charms, magnified by the deep square décolletage, tightly cinched waist and very short frilled skirts they were all wearing. Before long, hands started to wander. One of the girls ended up sitting on a mercenary’s lap, another one seemed to have lost something under the table, and a third one had spilled wine all over her bosom, that one of the men was licking up ravenously. This was quickly turning into an alpine orgy, to the irritation of Kohlver, still awaiting for answers.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. All work and no play makes jacking-off a dull stay!” jested Heilwig to the crass amusement of the mercenaries. She slipped a hand under Kohlver’s belt, to be immediately imitated by the five other girls. “You know counselor, the thing with milkmaids is, even if they look like innocent young lasses, men always forget they work hard all day pumping away. Over time, even the most delicate daisy tend to develop an incredible grip strength.” All around the table, the girls demonstrated their prowess by clenching their fists on the aroused mercenaries balls. The men started to scream and thrash about, unable to free their delicate organs from the brutal vice grip of the young milkmaids. One of them, struggling to pry away his tormentor, a busty redhead half his size, only managed to rip down one of her sleeves. Terrified, Kohlver’s bugged out eyes noticed how the small-framed girl was hiding impressive bulging triceps and veiny forearms under her poofy mousseline sleeves. Each one of those innocent-looking milkmaids was a deadly nut cracking assassin. The counsellor tried to move, but was quickly reminded by Heilwig that she was holding him at her mercy, his scrotum resting in the palm of her hand. His mercenaries were quickly getting castrated around him, and there’s nothing he could do to stop the gut-churning massacre.

Then, amid the gruesome concert of high-pitched yelps and squelching bollocks, the great Campanian banner adorning the back wall fell to the ground. Behind it, seated in majesty on a makeshift throne made of butter churns and milk cans, princess Fidelia appeared, laughing maniacally at the glorious spectacle of this mass castration with the back of her hand politely covering her mouth. For the occasion, she had slipped out of her regal dress and was wearing the same milkmaid outfit as the other girls, her colossal pair of tits crammed into a bodice that had to be almost unlaced to fit her, while small silver bells provocatively clasped over her nipples where chiming in rhythm with her bouncing udders. Crossing and uncrossing her shapely legs sublimed by red and green patriotic striped stockings, she exclaimed, “Hahaha! Nothing goes on in my beloved motherland without my knowledge, counselor Kohlver! You really thought your little facility would go unnoticed for much longer? You’re as discrete and subtle as the lusty boars you brought here with you!”

Two of the milkmaids that had finished neutralizing their male targets walked up to Fidelia, framing her like sexy bodyguards. The voluptuous princess started to feel up her spies, squeezing their proud breasts as much as their bulging biceps, before asking, “Do you like what I did with your team of milkers? How I took innocent girls destined to a menial life of milking, to turn them into my personal agents and train them into the art of ruining men? I call them my Blueberry Crushers! I didn’t have to ask them twice, you know. They seized the opportunity by the balls!” Fidelia mimed squeezing a pair of testicles as she said that, prompting Heilwig to nod and immediately starting to strengthen her grip on Kohlver’s manhood.

Sweat perling at his uneasy brow, the smarmy counselor pleaded, “Your grace, surely we don’t need to resort to such extremities! You already ruined perfectly serviceable mercenaries that will prove very difficult to replace. There is nothing to gain for you in my demise, I don’t think you realise just how similar our goals are yet!”

Curious, Fidelia slightly eased her air grip, causing Heilwig to react accordingly. “You will have to prove your worth beyond that, Kohlver. For now, all you did for me was to arrange my engagement with Dorian, after I generously saved the province of Quercus from famine with a delivery of ten thousand bushels of wheat to feed their starving farmers. For all intent and purposes, they already consider me their rightful queen. You talk big, but you do nothing to free my beloved from the clutches of that purple harlot. On top of that, I discover that YOU secretly installed this facility in my country! Don’t lie to me, it’s disgusting production only serves to further HER goals, how could I ever trust you, court toad?

Kohlver smiled, “You’re not the only one with informants on the border, your grace. I know you are behind the famine in Quercus and the cause of the recent wave of monster attacks in Tedoran territory. Your old father Spirus is too meek to have ordered the raids of the Campanian army that displaced all those monsters across the border. You only offered to solve what you caused and pretend to act out of love.” Hearing those words, Fidelia became enraged. Heilwig had troubles keeping up with all the vicious squeezes, twists and pulls she visually ordered her second-in-command to perform on the counselor’s nuts.

“How dare you, green buffoon! My love for Dorian is pure, and disinterested, and real!” Fidelia suddenly sounded like a naive teenage girl proclaiming her first love. “I can’t bear to stay away from him anymore! He wrote me all those beautiful letters where he has to speak in riddles, about a cage around his desire, and how he wishes he could fly away from his castle as a little bird, to land on my heart and show me the true size of his love! I know that elven bitch is holding him captive!” All the while, she pounded her clenched fist into her chest, making her bountiful bosom bulge around her knucles.

Kohlver gritted his teeth to find the strength to talk despite his terribly swollen balls. “Hgnnn, and that’s why I placed the only thing she desperately needs just out of her reach, in YOUR mountains.” Fidelia immediately eased her grip and started to wave her fingers in massaging motions, expressing her interest. The counselor continued, “Without the production of this facility, Meenah will be unable to complete her research. Nobody knows what she’s after, since she eliminated all the spies that came close to finding out, but the records prove she needs huge quantities to achieve it before your royal wedding. Cause that’s when she plans to strike, her orders have doubled since the news of your engagement, this can’t be a coincidence.”

Fidelia leaned forward on her throne with a menacing look, her heavy assets swaying with their own chorus of bell tinkles. “What is the source of that bitch power over my beloved Dorian? How does she manage to make him obey her every whim? Tell me now, or lose your manhood!” said the princess, while her hand darted from under her ample cleavage, to form an upturned claw in mid-air.

Kohlver had to think fast as the vice grip of Heilwig quickly became unbearable. Revealing the state secret of the Acorn of Tedora to foreign agents was considered a high treason punishable by death. “His pants! The king pants are cursed and they cause him… great pain! Nobody saw him without these blue silk pants since his childhood. Tedoran kings are valued for their virtue, and Meenah convinced his late father to have Dorian fitted with them to… preserve his chastity before marriage.” The counselor hoped that would be enough for the princess, if she pried any further, the cursed micropenis that affected the Doric dynasty since its inception would inevitably pop up.

Fidelia eased her grip to bring her hand to her chest, “My poor baby, tormented like that every day and night. That’s why he’s so pure and chaste! She never lets him relieve himself, how cruel for a healthy young man of his rank. If only I had him by my side, I could at least....” the princess stopped herself, but her gesturing hands brought near her mouth talked of a sweet treat. Good, thought Kohlver. When she’ll find out Dorian can’t even reach her molars, there will be no refund.

The princess stood up, still framed by her milkmaids bodyguards, and approached the counselor, her heavy assets jiggling with each of her steps. “Release him, Heilwig. The counselor is going to follow me in the stables. I need to know in every minute detail how to produce the hundred gallons a week that purple bitch asks for.”

---

Eyes watering and desperately trying to gasp a gulp of air to avoid passing out despite his almost paralyzed diaphragm, Juloof laid terrified on the forest floor as Amy the gnome was languorously caressing her plump assets, as if she was exploring them for the first time. “Awww, did my little knee hurt your sensitive balls?” coyly asked Amy, as she triumphantly applied her doll-sized foot atop Juloof’s groin, rubbing her little toes on the back of his hands. 

The ranger tried to speak, but his voice came out as a pitiful whimper, “W-why did you hurt me? I was just trying to help you!” he said, trying to grasp her ankle without letting her grind directly on his sore gnomehood.

Amy laughed out loud while diddling her plump little slit, “Right, the dashing hero helping the naked damsel in distress with his big cock. You shot me in full flight, you dumbass! You think naked girls are waiting to suck you off in the woods, you idiot? Thinking of it, you’re nothing but a nuisance since you joined this group. If they are to succeed, I need to remove your cock from the equation.”

Juloof’s sore balls retracted completely in his tummy in fear, when he saw Amy being engulfed in a dark cloud, as she pronounced “Metamorphosis!” with a changing voice ending like a croak. Tendrils of fuliginous darkness danced in front of his eyes, looking like fluttering feathers and talons. The purple face framed by silver hair and obscenely large breasts of a dark elf emerged from the churning vortex, followed by a much stronger and shapely leg that stepped on his belly, making his retracted balls pop out painfully back in their sack. Meenah the court mage stood naked above the small body of the gnome, still bearing the same wound on her side, half-hidden by her colossal tits.

“Let me see what I’m working with, gnome!” she said with her strange croaking voice, before bending over at the hips and ripping his pants apart, exposing his long floppy dong and bruised balls. The ranger tried to pry away by grabbing her big toe, but Meenah just had to shout “Hold Person” for dark tendrils to erupt from the ground and lock his limbs spread eagle.

“Who the hell are you? I don’t want any troubles, please let me go!” pleaded Juloof, totally pinned under Meenah’s foot.

“Shhh, little worm. You are to address me as Goddess from now on. For you are truly nothing more than a limbless grub.” Leaning over the gnome with eyes of pure darkness that pulsed tenebrous veins around her orbits, Meenah uttered a dark incantation, the long black nail at the end of her index finger tracing glowing elven script that started to swirl at the base of Juloof’s penis.

---

Fidelia, followed by Kohlver that still walked gingerly after her demonstration of air ballbusting, arrived in the stables escorted by the Blueberry Crushers. Reacting to their presence, the beasts that were chained to iron racks in each of the stalls started to become agitated. Heilwig spoke up, “They are long overdue for their milking. It becomes painful for them after a while.” The milkmaid in chief opened one of the stall doors to reveal a hulking orc, completely naked save for some fading warpaints, that thrashed against his restraints. His nether region was grotesquely swollen, with an erect veiny phallus that slapped in vain against his midsection, and overly large balls that would surely limit his mobility, if he could move at all. Heilwig fetched a stool and a milk can in the corner of the stall, before instructing her girls to each take a bull, as she lubricated her hands with a fragrant dollop of milking grease.

Fidelia looked intently, as the girls in each of the stalls were working the huge green dongs of a whole clan of orcs, held up on iron racks by solid forged chains. The monsters were groaning with pleasure, as the milkmaids jerked them faster and faster, milk cans held between their legs. “No matter what we tried, we couldn’t replicate the volume we obtained last week. It’s as if those beasts refused to give up all of their seed.” said the princess.

With a silk handkerchief covering his mouth and nose, Kohlver chastised her methods. “I did leave precise instructions last time. You girls are doing it all wrong, as always!” the counselor broke the wax seal of one of those crystal vials he had smuggled past the frontier. “You need to make them ingest the aphrodisiac BEFORE providing hand stimulation. It needs to take effect first.” he said, while pouring the otherworldly iridescent liquid through a metal funnel, past the orc bull’s fangs. Kohlver then grabbed the milkmaid by her shoulders, “Look him in the eyes, he’s going to tell you when he’s ready!” soon the orc bull’s gaze looked ablaze with a crimson lusty glow. “Now, and give him some visual stimulation, while you’re at it!” said Kohlver, while pulling down the straps of the milkmaid’s dress, causing her opulent breasts to pop out and jiggle with each of her masturbatory tugs.

Fidelia repeated the procedure herself in the other stalls, noticing how the potion exponentially increased the volume of each of the orc bulls already imposing testicles. As she caressed admiratively one of the monster’s pent up gonads, the young milkmaid that worked him missed the moment he went over the edge, and yelped as her face and naked breasts were copiously doused in orc cum. “Quick, hold up the can, you’re wasting it!” said Fidelia to the girl drowning in spunk, as the orc bull thrashed and humped the air. When it was over, the maid managed to get most of it out of her hair and mouth into the can, while the princess marvelled at the thickness and quantity obtained, her hands covered in gooey orc batter. “I think we have all we need to get back at that purple bitch, don’t you think Kohlver?” said the princess, before calling up Heilwig to clean her up.

Noticing that her unfortunate blasted milkmaid had already soiled all the available towels, Heilwig shrugged and said, “If you’ll excuse me, princess.” Before starting to suck on her fingers until she had licked them clean, to the absolute disgust of Kohlver, and the amused delight of Fidelia.

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Juloof was crying in pain as the dark ritual performed by Meenah took effect. The dark elven script around the base of his penis started to swirl faster and glow bright violet, as the gnome’s whole body started to crack and pop horribly, being reconfigured in something totally unnatural. The dark elven court mage was laughing ominously, revelling in the pain of her victim. Juloof saw his limbs disappear magically, as if they had folded back inside him, before he lost consciousness. When Meenah woke him up with a vicious kick, he woke up in a daze to find he was now only a portion of his usual size, the toes of the mage looking giant in front of him, his head barely clearing the blades of grass. He tried to move his arms but didn’t feel them, his spine and neck feeling incredibly stiff and his vision being all blurry.

Meenah laughed even more, and mocked him cruelly, “Your new form truly reflects your attitude, worm! Try to make your first steps in the world, you’re free to run away!” Juloof noticed he wasn’t restrained anymore, and tried to escape. Each of his steps was a torture, as if someone was stomping on his groin with each stride. Looking down at his feet, he started to scream, but his voice was now ridiculously high-pitched and pitiful. He was not walking with his feet, but with his balls, for the dark sorcery of Meenah had left him as a ridiculous disembodied penis. He was screaming through his urethra, and blinking with little beady eyes, like black dimples on his glans. He started to puke, but only cum came out, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. Still drooling ropes of spunk, Juloof the cock worm screamed, “Nooooooooo!” to the delight of his purple goddess.

In the last ray of sunlight filtering through the oak canopy, Aelith felt a spooky shiver down her spine, that left her with painfully erect nipples. Far above her head, a crow was flying away with what looked like a dead snake in one of its talons. Lolo had returned from her unfruitful scent tracking, and just shrugged her furry shoulders. “Nothing, he killed a bunch of small game he didn’t bother to pick up, then his trail just vanishes. I think he met one or two women at some point, this is unclear, then poof! Their scent goes stale.”

Freya snarked, “Women, ye say? Dat explains it! Dis little fooker hopped on deir magic carpet and flew away singing ‘bout a whole new world! No need ta keep his goat any longer, yah!” said the dwarf shield maiden, while slapping the rump of Petunia, that bleated before trotting away from the path.

Aelith lifted her pointy nose in the fresh evening breeze, and graced her party with one of her cryptic elven omens. “This forest is old. Very old. Full of mammories… and danglers.