“Guards! Help me!” The woman screamed as she backed away.
“No, wait, I….” Avith could hear the guards’ heavy armor rattle towards her. “Dammit,” she cursed under her breath, turning to flee. She slipped out the window of the inn, speaking a word of magic as she pulled a feather from her pouch, dropping to the ground lightly. Her green glowing eyes were of course easy to spot. She might as well be carrying a red flag over her head with her name written on it.
“Guards! Assist me!” She saw a guard standing near the corner looking at her. With a quick incantation and flick of her wrist, the man suddenly found himself growing wool and hooves. In just a second, he wandered around the town as a sheep, cursing himself in his mind.
Avith turned to run, calling for her mount which appeared, as if by magic. She swung onto the bird, urging it to run out of the little town of Goldshire. She looked behind her and saw the guards quickly get left behind. Finally, they slowed and then turned, giving up the chase. Sighing in relief, Avith slowed her bird, which squawked and turned its head to preen its feathers. “That was close. All I wanted was that dang trinket. I need something to fuel my magic! Bah, that one guard will have fun being a sheep for a while!” She chuckled at the memory.
Her bird mount squawked loudly and she turned her head, her long pointed ears perking. She could hear hoof beats behind her. Turning on her saddle, she saw a black horse flying toward her, its rider wearing black, spiked armor only too well known these days. Her heart pounding, she urged her mount to run. It took off down the cobblestone road, taking a few gliding leaps in an attempt to gain more distance. She could hear the jingling of the armor but didn’t dare to turn to see how close he was coming. She turned her mount suddenly, heading off into the woods.
She hoped the trees would help slow down the horse, but she figured he must have some kind of spell or trinket magic that helped his mount feel a little lighter, thus run faster. She knew she wouldn’t be able to outrun him, so she had to figure out another way to lose him….
Without warning, Avith felt herself being torn right off her mount and pulled backward. She screamed as she flew back, slamming into the unmoving metal of her pursuer’s armor. Her mount, not realizing it’s master was gone, vanished from sight almost immediately. She felt strong hands rush to grab her wrists, but she moved them fast, screaming out a magical command. Ice suddenly appeared on the ground, trapping the man’s feet for he had also got off his mount. She heard his deep, inhuman voice curse. He tried to grab her arm, but was only able to catch her robe, tearing the thin fabric as she fled in desperation.
She’d not gone a few feet before icy spikes exploded around her, ringing and trapping her. Of course he could use ice too. His kind were cold monsters to begin with. Now all that could be done was wait for whose spell would end first. She looked through the spaces of the ice spikes, seeing him stand there, tall and deadly, waiting patiently for the ice to crack around his feet. She saw the long pointed ears poking out of the dark, spiked helm. His eyes glowed white, the life force of the Lich King. That cold stare sent a shiver down her spine.
Both icy prisons shattered. He charged her. Already, though, Avith had a spell on her lips and she weaved her power into a single icy ball. It struck him and he felt the cold sap him of strength, his legs feeling like weights that he could barely lift. Grinding his teeth, he keep coming after her even as she turned and fled. The cold sensation quickly dissipated and he ran after her. Avith knew that any second he would have built up the power to use the dark energies to pull her back again and that she had to find another way to escape.
She came to a steep hillside and she skirted it, hoping for some kind of cover. But she couldn’t go much further before she felt dark magic crackle around and engulf her, pulling her off her feet and dragging her back. Avith started to cry out an incantation in desperation, but her breath was knocked out her when she was tossed against the rock face and the large armored body pushing against her. One of her arms got trapped between herself and the rock. The other she tried to use to weave a simple spell, an attempt to set him on fire. But his gauntletted hand gripped her thin wrist hard, pushing it too against the rock.
She felt panic rise in her. She was completely at his mercy now. She cried out, hoping someone would hear. She heard him laugh, his cold breath on her ears making her shiver. He pulled her arms to her back, tied them expertly so that she could not even wiggle her hands to cast a spell. He then turned her around to look down at her. Those glowing eyes made her quiver. But the eyes did not stay on hers. They moved down, making her realize that in her struggle she’d ripped her robe even further.
The side of a pale breast showed. She quickly squirmed, trying to break his iron grasp. “Let me go!” she cried, her voice high with a spike of fear.
His response was a chuckle, a cruel and sadistic sound. He pressed her up against the rock roughly, his body trapping her. His cold breath was against her ear as he spoke in the elven language. “Even before I was risen, I had wondered what mages wore under their robes.”
Avith’s heart pounded. She squirmed against him with all her might. He just laughed at her futile attempts. Again she heard him speak, his lips right against her ear, his voice low and dark. “I was thinking of killing you, but now I have another thought. Maybe if your warm little body satisfies me, I’ll let you live.”
“Go to hell!” Avith yelled, still trying to escape.
He threw his head back and laughed. “I was there already. It’s not nearly as warm as they make it out to be. You, however, are much hotter than the cold grip of death.”
She felt his chilly hand slip under her robe. She didn’t usually wear much, just some silk panties. She liked the feeling of them, but they offered no protection from his large, cold fingers. She could feel that every where he touched he was drawing warmth out of her. She whimpered as he slid his fingers under her panties and probed at her entrance.
The cold of his finger tip made Avith gasp as he rubbed her clit. His other hand was warm from holding her arm. That moved to the front of her to massage her exposed breast. He played with her nipple which quickly rose, almost begging for more attention. It made him snicker, feeling her body quivering, her breathing labored. “I had always heard Blood Elves were sluts. I suppose it is true.”
“You… you’re a bastard!” she cried, again writhing against him. “You cold-hearted, sadistic jerk! Let me go!”
Again he chuckled. “It comes with being risen from the dead.”
Avith cried out when he plunged a finger into her tight cunt. She squirmed, but she knew she couldn’t escape. He was finger fucking her hard. She couldn’t stop her body from reacting, a tiny moan leaving her as the walls of her passage tightened, almost trying to milk him, to get his finger deeper. She was wet already, covering his finger and soaking her panties.
Abruptly, he stopped, removing his hand. He dragged her roughly toward a rock that was at just the right height to lean her over. He shoved her over it, his big hand against the back of her head, making certain she stayed. Taking his sword, he carefully cut her robes from her svelte body. She knew he had no intentions of wasting time. He was going to take her however he chose to. She would be lucky to get out of this alive.
When he was finished stripping her, though he left her little blue silk panties on, he used his strength to drive his sword into the ground nearly to the hilt. He then forced her legs apart, leaning down to tie one leg to the sword. The other leg he tied to a sapling growing beside them.
The whole time, Avith panted in fear and arousal. She tried to resist, but that only seemed to make him more entertained. She tried to think of something, anything, that might get her out of this situation. She could hear him removing his armor, feel the cold of him near her.
“My-my brother is part of the Sunreavers! You’ll be sorry if you don’t let me go!”
He was in front of her now, grinning down at her. “You talk too much. Now be a good whore and warm me up.” He grabbed a handful of her hair. She cried out in pain, but he used that to shove his throbbing cock into her mouth. She gagged a moment, feeling him jerk forward to push into her throat. She had to remember to breathe and relax, letting him deep into her throat. He was quite large for her small body.
She could feel his cock warming up as she sucked on him. He snickering above her darkly. “That’s a good little slut. I think you do this quite often. It’s all your good for, anyways.”
Her cheeks flushed in humiliation, looking up at him. She started to tighten her jaw, but his other hand reached down and pressed against the joints of her jaw painfully. “If you bite me,” he said in a low, deadly growl, “I can enjoy your body just well cold as warm.”
She shuddered, relaxing her jaw and allowing him to use her mouth. He thrust with a steady pace, though it was merciless, hard, no care for what he did to her. Surely she would not be surviving this.
Once he was warmed, he pulled himself from her throat. He walked around behind her, laying his big hand against her round ass with a loud slap. She yelped in surprise, trying to stand up, but he shoved her back over. “Take my cock like a good little slut,” he laughed, moving aside her panty and pressing into her.
“Ahh!” she cried in pain, her whole body jerking. “No! Stop!”
He slapped her ass again, thrusting a little further into her tight hole. “I’ve no intentions of stopping. Not until I’ve gotten what I want.”
“Please,” Avith begged now, squirming as he thrust harder. “Please don’t… be so rough….”
Maybe there was some sense of mercy left in him, some spark of humanity rekindled by his memories of being alive that her warmth flowing through his body brought up. He suddenly slowed, giving her a moment to relax. He was mostly in, stroking little by little now to ease the rest of his length into her.
Once he was hilted, his powerful strokes soon began to cause a greater warmth under her navel. Without meaning to, Avith moaned, feeling her fluids rush out of her over the death knight’s cock. It made him laugh sadistically. “You like this, do you? Well, that’s fine with me.”
Ashamed of herself, Avith couldn’t stop her moaning, or how her body felt so hot and moist. She could feel herself nearing climax as he kept a steady pace of thrusting into her, violating her helpless hole. Despite the fear that still pounded in her chest, she couldn’t stop the thoughts of how erotic this whole situation was. If she was being made to endure it, she might as well enjoy it.
With a loud cry that echoed through the woods, her body squirmed on its own, her passage tightening uncontrollably around his length. The death knight groaned, grabbing her hips and thrusting harder. “Damn, it’s tight,” he growled, his testicles slapping against Avith’s clit as he pounded her mindlessly.
With a final brutal thrust, she felt a spurt of cool fluid inside her body. He panted behind her, pulling out slowly. “Darn, I was hoping to go a little longer.” He laughed. “Oh well.”
“You… you’re going to let me go now, right?” Avith asked, looking over her shoulder at the death knight.
He grinned in a blood chilling manner. “Don’t worry, dear. The graveyard isn’t that far away.”
Avith suddenly felt her whole body grow unbearably hot, feeling like her blood was boiling in her veins. Again he laughed. “Didn’t you know death knights give you diseases? Hope you have a good run back!”