Elf-Queen of Tylia

Elf-Queen of Tylia, Part 2

by All These Roadworks

Tags: #cw:incest #cw:noncon #D/s #dom:male #f/f #f/m #fantasy #humiliation #sub:female #beastman #monster_fucking #patriarchy #princess #queen

Elf-Queen of Tylia, Part 2
Story by All These Roadworks (2023).
Note: As always, this story represents my kinks, not my politics.
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Princess Liri may have been 30 years of age, but by the standards of the long-lived elves, it made her little more than an immature teenager - and she felt that perceived immaturity keenly.  Her eldest sister Dastiya was being groomed to take the throne one day and was the captain of the elite Steel Flowers, while her middle sister Ellora served as the High Priestess of the elven religion. 
Liri, by contrast, had been given no responsibilities.  They treated her like a baby.  She had assumed all that would pass when her father, King Thybold had died, and her mother Sylene took the throne - but she was just as ignored and overlooked as ever.
Her mother needed help, Liri knew.  Ever since King Thybold had died, Sylene had looked stressed and anxious.  She had even appointed that disgusting Beastman Red Horn to the Grand Council, and she took private counsel with him every morning.  If she had needed more help, she could have turned to Liri - and Liri was more than a little hurt and offended that she hadn’t.
Every day, she had pestered her mother for something to do, some way to show her value to the kingdom.  And her mother had put her off.  “Not now, Liri,” she had said.  “This is a difficult time, and I don’t need you behaving like a child.”
Red Horn had inevitably been present during these meetings, completely naked in the disgusting Beastman way, his huge black cock erect and dripping with pre-cum, and he had just laughed at Liri’s pleas, and stared unashamedly at the bosom of Liri’s dress until Liri had blushed and hurried away.
But finally Queen Sylene had called Liri to her bedchamber, and Liri had run to attend, eager to hear what her mother had to say.
When she arrived, though, she stopped dead, blushing a deep crimson.  Her mother was kneeling on the floor of her bedchamber - and her breasts were bare.  They had been pulled forth from the bodice of her breast, and lay fully exposed to her daughter’s gaze.
Red Horn was here too.  He stood, towering over the Queen, one of his cloven hooves carelessly stepping on the hem of the Queen’s dress.  His thick black cock was erect, and as Liri watched, a drop of pre-cum dripped from its tip, to land on the upper slope of the Queen’s right breast.
“Mother!” exclaimed Liri.  “What are you doing?”
“Well,” said her mother, blushing, clearly humiliated.  “The beastfolk go without clothes entirely, you see.  I was just in counsel with our friend Red Horn, and while clearly an elf must not descend to the level of a Beastman, Red Horn mentioned it might be polite to show my breasts, and it seemed like a reasonable request…”
Queen Sylene was babbling.  She clearly felt every disgraceful element of the slutty spectacle she was providing.  Why was she doing this?  It must be the influence of Red Horn.  Liri stared at the goat-man, willing her brain to shoot daggers into his black, inhuman eyes.
He just stared back at her.  “Hello, Lari,” he said, in his thick, accented voice.
Liri went even brighter red.  Her name, Liri, meant “the beauty” in Old Elvish.  But Old Elvish was a subtle tongue, and small changes could convey related but very different concepts.
The word “Lari”, for instance, did not mean “beauty” but rather “pornographic image” or “sex decoration”.  Something a man might use to masturbate.
“How dare you!” she breathed.
“Liri, calm down!” said Queen Sylene hurriedly.  “It’s just his accent.  He barely knows Elvish, let alone Old Elvish.”
“Did I say something wrong?” asked Red Horn.  “I did not mean to offend your daughter Lari.”
“It’s Liri,” corrected the queen.
“As I said,” replied Red Horn.  “Lari.”
The Queen shrugged, in a defeated “what can I do” gesture.  
“What did you want me for, mother?” asked Liri, through gritted teeth, attempting to pointedly ignore Red Horn.
“I am forming a new committee,” said the Queen, “and I want you to head it, Liri.”
Liri felt much of her anger evaporate.  Finally!  A chance to be of service to her mother and the realm.  “Of course, mother,” she gasped.  “And thank you!”  She paused.  “What is this committee?”
“Well, for far too long, we have been, as a nation, exceptionally cruel to our beastfolk neighbours,” said the Queen.  “We have been…” she paused, and looked at Red Horn, before continuing.  “... stupid racist cunts.”
Liri felt herself reddening again, to hear her mother describe her own people - describe herself - in such disgusting terms.
“Mother!” admonished Liri.
Sylene waved a hand.  “It’s true, Liri,” she said.  “I heard you telling an extremely offensive Beastman joke only the other day.”
Liri didn’t think it had been offensive.  In fact, she thought the joke, which started with, “How many Beastman corpses does it take to fertilize a garden,” had been exceptionally hilarious.  But she held her opinion to herself.
“In any case,” said Queen Sylene.  “A new age has dawned.  The discovery of the beastfolk’s” - another pause - “exceptionally delicious fertility drug has brought our two people closer together than ever.  It’s time to mend the rifts between us.”
The drug *was* delicious, Liri admitted privately.  She wasn’t even attempting to breed, and she still took a dose every morning, to be ready for when she was - and loved it.  She wondered idly what alchemy the beastmen used to create it.
“So what is this committee?” Liri asked.
“A reconciliation committee,” said Sylene.  “The aim of the committee is to find ways that the nation of Tylia can better show respect and love for our beastfolk neighbours.”
“Disgusting!” replied Liri, without thinking.
Sylene’s face darkened, but Red Horn put a hand on her shoulder, and spoke instead.  “Please, Lari,” he said, staring at her tits as he spoke, “this is a very serious position.  A real chance to set the direction of your nation.  Your mother Queen Syluin is doing you quite an honour.”
Liri gritted her teeth even further.  Her mother’s name, Sylene, meant “wisdom” in Old Elvish, but “Syluin’ was the inverted form of it - the opposite.  Red Horn had just called Liri’s mother “Queen Bimbo”.
“You wanted to show me you could be responsible,” said Queen Sylene, before Liri could respond.  “Here, you’ll be responsible for the entire reconciliation effort.”
Liri fumed - but her mother was right.  She had said she would do anything to help - and now she was being asked to help.  “Very well,” she said, through gritted teeth.
“Do you swear?” asked Sylene earnestly.  “Do you swear by your father’s name to take responsibility for the reconciliation?”
“I swear by my father’s name I shall be responsible for the reconciliation,” said Liri.
“Then you had best start getting ready,” said Sylene.  “The committee’s first meeting is this afternoon.”
When Liri had left the room, Queen Sylene turned to look up at Red Horn. 
“Please,” she begged.  “Be merciful to Liri.”
Red Horn slapped the Queen across the face.  “I told you - behind her back, you will call her Lari, not Liri.  She is a sex decoration, and you will accustom yourself to thinking of her as one.”
Sylene felt her cheek redden with pain.  “I’m sorry,” she said, in a small voice.
“Say it,” said Redhorn.  “Say your daughter is a sex decoration for raping.”
“My daughter Lari…” said Sylene, her voice breaking with misery, “is a sex decoration for raping.”
“Good bitch,” said Red Horn.  “And what do you suppose she would think of you if she learned you had been feeding her - and every woman in the nation - Beastman cum for thirty years?”
“She would hate me,” wept Sylene.  “She would cheer for my execution.”
“Exactly right,” said Red Horn.  “So keep doing as you’re told, Queen Syluin,and we’ll make Tylia a better nation for everyone.”  And he reached down and grabbed her hair, and guided her head forcefully towards his giant black cock.
Like the Bimbo Queen she knew she was, Sylene opened her mouth for it obediently.
The meeting of the Reconciliation Committee was held in the Grand Council chamber.  It was a larger room than was needed, as apparently the Committee would have only five members.
And to Liri’s horror, she was the only elf on the committee.
Each of the members had a nameplate in front of their place - but the nameplates were written only in the barbaric language of the beastfolk, and Liri could not read them.  (If she had, she would have discovered that her own nameplate read, simply, “Sex Decoration”.)
Red Horn sat at the head of the table - in the seat her mother would take for actual Grand Council meetings.  To his left sat a lizardman - six foot tall, and covered in iridescent purple scales, with a long crocodilian snout and forked tongue.  His lizardlike attributes didn’t extend to his genitalia though - just like Red Horn, he had a huge, exposed mammalian cock, although his was a pale cream colour, like the skin on his belly and chest.  
Liri had seen this lizardman around the court - he was some kind of adjunct to Red Horn - and thought the creature’s name was Sarlaz.
Beside Sarlaz was the huge, obscene bulk of a pig-man.  This was Glant, the beastfolk trade attache.  He was so corpulent he overflowed the dainty elven chair in every direction.  His pig-like snout was almost lost in the jowls of fat on either side of it.  His beady eyes were fixed on Lira’s tits from the moment she walked into the room.
The last member of the council was a cat-girl.  She was far more elf-like than the other beastfolk, and Liri wondered if there was elven blood in her - the disgusting product of a coupling between beastfolk and pure elven bloodlines.  Her ears were the fuzzy, pointed ears of a cat, and a furred tail grew from the base of her spine, but her skin was otherwise smooth and pale - and Liri could see a lot of her skin, because, in the manner of beastfolk, the cat-girl was naked.
Not only naked - she was kneeling on top of the table, her legs spread, and openly masturbating, while cupping her breasts with her free hand.
“What’s going on here?” Liri demanded, striding to the table.  There was no seat at the place where her own name-plate had been placed.
Red Horn waved a hand around the table.  “The Reconciliation Committee,” he said.  “I believe you know Sarlaz and Glant, by reputation if not personally.  Our lovely companion here” - he gestured at the cat-girl - “is Mariel, which is a word that in our tongue means ‘sperm-toilet’.  She is a specialist in health, fertility and medicines, and handles the procurement of the fertility drug.” 
“Why is she on the table like that?” asked Liri.
“It is the custom of the beastfolk that women do not sit equal to men,” said Red Horn.  “Normally we would have Mariel kneel on the floor beside us, but your elven table is awkwardly high, and she would find it difficult to see our faces, so I invited her up onto the table.  You may wish to do the same.”
“I’m not kneeling on the table!” objected Liri.
“But Lari,” said Red Horn, “I’m not sure we’ll be able to hear you if you kneel on the floor.  And you wouldn’t disrespect us at the very first meeting of the Reconciliation Committee by taking a *seat*, would you?  It would be a poor start to the reconciliation process.”
Liri stared at Red Horn, trying to tell if he was serious.
He appeared to be.
Blushing deep red, Liri climbed awkwardly up onto the table, and knelt on its surface.  The cat-girl, Mariel, was still masturbating, smiling at Liri as she did so.  Liri tried to avoid looking at her, and her obscenely wet cunt.
“The traditional posture is with the knees apart,” noted Red Horn.
Liri spread her legs a little.  She wished she had worn a longer dress.  The skirt she wore was practical for walking swiftly and getting a lot done - which meant it stopped above her knees.  As she parted her legs, the skirt rode up slightly, and she knew that each one of the beastfolk was in a perfect position to gaze straight at the crotch of her white elf-silk undergarments.
“Thank you,” said Red Horn.  “As you can see, among beastfolk women it would also be normal to be unclothed, to present the breasts for inspection, and to stimulate the crotch so as to be at optimal readiness for breeding, but we are not so crass as to require all that of our elven friends at this stage.”
Liri didn’t like that “at this stage”, but she said nothing.
She realised that none of the men were looking at her face.  They were all looking between her legs, at her cunt.  She blushed a deeper red, humiliated.  She had never had such focused attention on her pussy before - and to her horror, she felt her cunt throb, and begin to wetten in response.
She did her best to ignore it.
“So, Lari,” grunted the pig-man, Glant - a horrible squealing, snorting sound.  His eyes were fixed hungrily on Liri’s cunt.  “What ideas do you have for reconciliation between our peoples?
Liri was taken aback.  Ideas?  She had literally never once thought in her life about bringing elves and beastfolk closer together - not even when her mother had told her she would be on this committee - and now she was caught off-guard.  She felt stupid.  Of course she should have thought of ideas.
“Uh…” she said, blushing.
The lizardman - Sarlaz - make a hissing noise, and said, “It seems that elven bitches are no more intelligent than those of the beastfolk.”
The cat-girl, Mariel, giggled - a dumb, childish laugh.
Liri felt herself fill with anger again.  “How dare you!” she retorted.
Red Horn waved a dismissive hand.  “Calm yourself, Lari.  There is no need to heat your pussy about this matter - pardon me, ‘heat your pussy’ is a common idiom for female anger among my people.  I mean, no need to get upset.  I understand that ‘bitch’ has a different meaning among the elves, but among my people it is simply the correct term for a female of the species.”
“Well, if the bitch has no ideas,” snorted Glant, “then perhaps we should start with language.  I, for one, am sick of having to apologise whenever I use the language of my homeland.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” said Red Horn.  “If Tylia truly values its beastfolk friends, then it should make it illegal to pretend offence to beastfolk language and idiom, or discriminate or harass beastfolk on the basis of their language.  Don’t you think, Lari?”
Liri felt stupid and embarrassed.  She didn’t want to agree to this - didn’t want to agree to *anything* Red Horn suggested - but she couldn’t immediately see what was wrong with it.  Or rather, she couldn’t think of a way to disagree that wasn’t offensive.  
“Uh…” she began, and winced when Mariel and Glant laughed at her indecision again.  “I suppose so,” she concluded lamely.
“All those in favour of taking this proposition to the Queen?” asked Red Horn.
Everyone raised their hand - including, reluctantly, Liri.
“Very good,” said Red Horn.  “I will see that the cunt that squeezed you out signs this into law, Lari.”
Liri felt her anger rise again.  “What did you just call my mother?”
“That is just a simple translation of our word for ‘mother’, Lari,” said Red Horn, in a calm, condescending voice.  “Again, there is no need to heat your pussy.  Among the beastfolk, we say that the relationship between a daughter and her mother is that ‘she came from her cunt’.  Just a simple statement of fact.”
“Now, what about respect?” asked Sarlaz.  “Every time one of these elven bitches addresses me as if I’m they’re equal - or inferior - it takes all I have not to punch them in their disgusting elven udders and rape them right there on the spot.”
“An excellent point,” said Red Horn.  “Lari, just as we respect your customs by calling the cunt that produced you ‘Queen’, and referring to you and your cunt-mate bitches as ‘Princesses’, I think it would be appropriate for the kingdom to respect our customs by having elven women address male beastfolk as ‘Sir’, don’t you think?”
“You can’t be serious!” said Liri desperately.  She had thought she was supposed to be in *charge* of this committee - but Red Horn was running it, and Liri was struggling to keep up.  It was hard to think, kneeling in this strange position, with everyone staring at her throbbing, aroused cunt.
“You can’t be serious, *sir*,” corrected Glant.
Liri ignored him.  “I can’t make every elven woman say that!  They’d rebel!”
“Of course they won’t,” said Red Horn.  “Especially with you and your cunt-mother setting such a good example.  Say ‘yes, sir’.”
Liri kept trying.  “Surely there’s something else we can…”
Red Horn cut her off.  “Do I have to tell the cunt that produced you that you are being *difficult*, Lari?  We can run this committee perfectly well without you.”
Liri’s mouth gaped.  She thought of Red Horn telling her mother that she’d failed at her first assignment.  She thought of how disappointed her mother would be.  She thought of Red Horn and his friends coming up with new laws without a single elf there to argue.
“No, sir,” she said, defeated.  “Your proposal sounds suitable.”
“Good bitch,” said Red Horn.  Was he smiling?  It was so hard to tell with these beastfolk faces.  She watched him, wondering when this ordeal would end.
Not yet, apparently.  “Lari,” said Red Horn, slowly, “there appears to be a wet patch on the crotch of your undergarments.  Are you urinating?”
Liri went bright red, and slammed her knees together so fast that her knees made a clapping sound.
“I asked you a question, Lari,” said Red Horn.  “It would be very disrespectful to urinate in front of us.”
“No, sir,” said Liri, blushing.
“Then why were your undergarments wet, Lari?” asked Red Horn.
Liri wished she were dead.  She wished she were anywhere else.  Her mind spun, trying to think of a way out.  Could she just storm out of the room?  She would have to get down off the table - which was going to be awkward.  Could she change the topic?  What could she say that wouldn’t start an argument with Red Horn?
“I asked you a question, Lari,” said Red Horn.  She heard Glant chuckle under his breath, and then Mariel giggled.
Liri mumbled something, head down, staring at the table, avoiding eye contact, her face burning with shame.
“What was that, Lari?” asked Red Horn.  “Speak up.”
“My pussy was wet, sir,” she said, in a louder voice.  She felt something die inside her.  Her pride?  Her dignity?  She realised her answer didn’t make it clear she hadn’t just wet herself, and quickly added, “I was… aroused.”
“Ah,” said Red Horn.  There was a long silence.  Liri had never been more ashamed.  Would Red Horn tell her mother about this?  Would her mother ever respect her again?  Why was her pussy even wet to begin with?  Why was she getting aroused from this horrifying ordeal?
Then Red Horn spoke.  “Exactly as your pussy should be.  Very good, Lari.  I can see I underestimated your commitment to reconciliation.  Perhaps it is not only elven bitches who must overcome their preconceptions.”
He stood abruptly.  As he rose from the chair, his cock bounced against the flat surface of the table, leaving small splatters of pre-cum.  Glant and Sarlaz did the same - as did their cocks.
“Very well,” Red Horn pronounced.  “I declare this meeting adjourned.  I will convey its resolutions to Queen Syluin.  Lari, be a good bitch and clean the chamber once we are gone.  Oh, and next time we meet, I expect you to wear something more appealing - and have some ideas for how to help elven bitches to better respect beastfolk.”
“Yes, sir,” said Liri, too grateful that the ordeal was ending to argue.
The beastfolk filed out of the Grand Council chamber, and the double doors banged shut behind them, leaving Liri alone.
She waited one heartbeat - two - to make sure no one was coming back.  Then her hand flew to her underwear, worming beneath the smooth elf-silk to find her pussy and begin masturbating it furiously.
She didn’t understand what was happening to her, or why she was reacting this way.  She had never had anyone stare at her cunt the way Red Horn had stared at it.  She had never been so close to so many huge, erect cocks.  She had never in her life had to call anyone “sir”, let alone someone who made her feel as dirty and insecure as Red Horn did.
But no one had to know.  No one would see her masturbating.
And no one - ever - would have to learn that as she stared at the table - at the three small puddles of pre-cum where the men had sat, and the small pool of cunt juices where the cat-girl had been kneeling - a sudden, terrible, humiliating knowledge came over her.  She knew how she had to clean this up.  She knew how she *needed* to clean this.  It was what her cunt wanted, and it wanted it so badly there was no denying it.
Slowly, still rubbing her pussy, she crawled across the table, and reached the pool of the pig-man’s pre-cum.  And, just as slowly, she extended her tongue, and began to lick it up.
Just like a good little elven bitch, she thought.
It tasted familiar.  It tasted good.
And by the time she got to licking up Red Horn’s cock-fluid, she was cumming so hard she didn’t even notice that Red Horn himself had reopened the door to the Grand Council chamber, and was looking back in at her.  
And now he was *definitely* smiling.

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