Zozafina's Day Out 8
Using Baker's body for her sick delight, Zozafina imparts her secrets to him.
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“I…”
“Tell me the truth, oh-so-great Baker. How much of the digestion of the death do you feel when your bodies are destroyed?
Baker gulps. “A… all of it.”
“That’s a good boy,” the dark elf says, and then she pushes hard, her boot crushing the femboy under her as the knife buries itself into his chocolatey skin.
Baker whimpers under her, sauce and cream oozing from both points as the dark elf removes her foot from him, grabbing his boxers and pulling down. “Now, for my dessert,” she says, shuddering.
Baker sprawls out on the table, chocolate and cream oozing out of the femboy’s chin and between his legs. He breathes quickly, his chest rising and falling, glistening with a sugary glaze of sweat designed perfectly to encapsulate the feeling of great exertion or great fear.
Zozafina licks her lips, the dark elf sorceress pulling down his undergarments, made sticky with the brutal crushing she had done to him just moments before. When he is revealed, his chocolate cock is covered in the oozy sauce she had made with her violent actions.
“Ah, there we are,” she coos to herself. “All of the sensations in the world you can give yourself. What a foolish boy you are.” She wraps her fingers around the pole, stroking slowly and up and down it.
The baker closes his eyes, tilting his head back, letting out a gurgling groan.
“Oh, you can only let out the sounds of pain and not delight, can you? My, you do cater to your clients, don’t you? But you’re enjoying this, are you not?”
Baker lifts his arm slowly, giving her the thumbs-up.
“Oh, but of course,” she sighs, leaning in, pressing her lips against the tip of his shaft, slowly suckling on the head and its creamy goodness before pulling back slowly, ever-so-slowly, with a loud and lewd “smack.”
Laughing, she slides a hand up his thigh, letting nails dig into that skin, cutting through the layer of chocolate, passing through the crust, and revealing the creamy deliciousness within. She pulls her mouth from his cock and lowers it down to his thigh, pressing her lips against the wound she created and sucking up the facsimile of lifeblood that he had prepared just for her.
When she pulls back, some of his cream dribbles down her chin, and she licks it up with decadent delight. “Oh, how many people come here, playing pretend at such acts of total hedonistic freedom, afraid to do the real thing? How weak they must be to not be able to indulge in their darker desires.”
Baker frowns, shifting slightly, pushing himself up.
She responds by squeezing his thigh. This jerks him back down, gritting his teeth, gurgling, and groaning.
“Oh, no, you don’t! We paid for the full experience, and I will get it!”
She climbs up onto him, her dick tracing up along his, flicking against it playfully as she sits on his injured lap. “You deny no service that you agreed upon before. Do you deny me now?”
Baker coughs up, shaking his head.
“Then, what’s the matter, hm?” she asks, rubbing her stained hands over his chest, marking him with cream and chocolate over his glazed goodness. “Do you feel I am a monster who would consume other creatures?”
He locks eyes with her, opening his mouth, but only the gurgling response leaves his lips.
“But then, you’d be right,” Zozafina says, leaning in, her chest pressed against his, her hands caressing his cheeks. “I am a monster. I was made that way by decades of meticulous preparation. I choose to have a much less monstrous form present itself to the masses.”
She presses her lips against his. Her tongue slides down, much too long for her mouth, into his, slipping and swirling around, tasting the bowl of his confectionery blood that she had created. When she pulls back, her tongue is coated in the sugary substance, and she lets him watch and feel as it drips down off of her and onto his face and chest.
She slurps the tongue back up, sliding up his body a bit, letting his cock head trace down over her member and her balls and slipping down past her hole.
“Us Dark Elves are taught from a very young age that to be the tool is to be weak. It is the one who receives the magic of creation, who is the most powerful.”
She lowers herself down, biting her lip as his cock pushes against her hole, spreading her out, but lubricated with the spit and the fluids of his form.
“Ah… a long time ago… fuh-for you,” she huffs as she slides down along his pole. “But it was a short time for me…” she continues. “I realized I didn’t need to be… ah… born… with the power to… to receive… but also I… I… could… mgnh...!”
She lowers herself down just enough for that big dick to hit her right in her p-spot. She throws her head back, panting delightfully as she rolls her body over him, sliding and rubbing herself with the stimulation of his fantastic rod.
“I could do, ah… buh… boooth!” She pushes her chest out, gripping tightly to Baker’s shoulders, not listening anymore to the gurgles and the draining of his fluids, but instead just enjoying the ride of her life on his cock, bouncing on it, moaning as she stimulates herself, using him like a sleeve, having her way and only her way on this object of a man.
“The… the old guard… were, mmnm… too closed-minded! Ha… they couldn’t, gods, couldn’t realize, yes, that they were limiting themselves to the haaa… binary of the time!”