By The Horns: Ch. 3

[pre-story]Hey there, squish here, with another chapter of By The Horns! Well, it's finally done! I'd have thought a story like this would pretty much write itself, but seem it's a little harder than I was giving it credit for. I'd say the final product's worth it, though. Anyways, let me know what you think in the comments! Also, sorry this is a day late, I kinda forgot this was supposed to go up yesterday... ^^;
Remember, if you like what you see, [redacted][/pre-story]

Chapter 3: A Duo’s Desires

Silvermoon City shone like a jewel in the light of the afternoon sun, the entire city gleaming brilliant gold, pale ivory, and vivid crimson. The Sun’s golden rays filtered down through an impossible skyline, towering ornate spires and levitating buildings casting long shadows on the immaculate streets below. It was a city of mystic marvels, from animated street-sweeping brooms, to giant floating emeralds, to the elegant yet formidable arcane guardians that patrolled alongside its guards. But even its most grandiose features paled in comparison to the glorious sight of Sunfury Spire, the immense ivory-and-gold royal palace towering over the lesser spires like a monarch in its own right. It was a thing of beauty, enormous and opulent, bearing the finest and most spectacular architectural flourishes and crowned with massive, gleaming gold wings. Among all the wondrous and beautiful sights of Azeroth, truly, Silvermoon City was the crowning jewel. An island of beauty, peace, and luxury in a raging sea of war, brutality, and chaos.

“Ugh, this city is the worst. So boring!” Elaana lamented with an exaggerated roll of her brilliantly glowing emerald-green eyes.

By The Horns: Ch. 3 [Preview]

[pre-story]Hey there, squish here, with a new chapter preview! It's finally done! You'd think a story like this would write itself, but it seems I didn't give it enough credit. I'd say the final product's worth it, though!

[redacted][/pre-story]

Chapter 3: A Duo’s Desires

Silvermoon City shone like a jewel in the light of the afternoon sun, the entire city gleaming brilliant gold, pale ivory, and vivid crimson. The Sun’s golden rays filtered down through an impossible skyline, towering ornate spires and levitating buildings casting long shadows on the immaculate streets below. It was a city of mystic marvels, from animated street-sweeping brooms, to giant floating emeralds, to the elegant yet formidable arcane guardians that patrolled alongside its guards. But even its most grandiose features paled in comparison to the glorious sight of Sunfury Spire, the immense ivory-and-gold royal palace towering over the lesser spires like a monarch in its own right. It was a thing of beauty, enormous and opulent, bearing the finest and most spectacular architectural flourishes and crowned with massive, gleaming gold wings. Among all the wondrous and beautiful sights of Azeroth, truly, Silvermoon City was the crowning jewel. An island of beauty, peace, and luxury in a raging sea of war, brutality, and chaos.

“Ugh, this city is the worst. So boring!” Elaana lamented with an exaggerated roll of her brilliantly glowing emerald-green eyes.

“Ugh, I know, right?” Zalaana agreed.

The Dawnspear twins descended the ramp from Sunfury Spire to the Court of the Sun in unison, a pair of nearly-identical young blood elves, radiantly beautiful in an effortless, almost-too-perfect way. They had the same pale, flawless skin; the same slender, graceful build; the same elegant, refined facial features; the same silky, golden-blonde hair; the same glowing, emerald-green eyes; the same long, pointed ears, decorated with the matching sets of emerald studs along their length. Their makeup matched too, their full lips painted the same shade of vivid, eye-catching crimson, their eyes expertly accented to give their gaze a sultry smolder. They even dressed identically, though that was more the school’s fault for requiring uniforms than it was theirs. They wore glossy black school shoes over white knee-high sock that left the contours of their long, shapely legs bare; red pleated skirts that wrapped tight around their tiny waists and hung off their generous hips and tight, round butts; and white button-up tops, left unbuttoned just enough to flash tantalizing glimpses of their ripe, blossoming breasts, easily the two most impressive sets in the school. The only way to tell the two apart was their hair, Elaana’s trimmed at jaw-length and neatly styled, while Zalaana’s was kept long and pulled back into a ponytail, leaving just enough free to elegantly frame her face. 

“Nothing happens here! It’s always the same, home, then school, then the bar, then home again, over and over and over…” Elaana continued to complain as her sister nodded along to the familiar rant. “The same boring classes, the same boring drinks, the same boring boys, the same boring toys…” She listed, letting the words trail off into a heavy sigh as she shook her head and looked to her sister. “I need something new, Z, tonight, or I’m gonna go out of my mind. And then you’re gonna have to take care of your poor insane sister until I die of the crazies.” She lamented, putting her the back of her hand to her forehead in a melodramatic ‘woe-is-me’ gesture. 

Zalaana smirked for a moment. “I love you, sis, but I’d have a pillow on your face within a week.” She replied, chuckling softly and shaking her head for a moment. She put on a thoughtful expression. “Hmmm… How about Professor Firehawk?” She suggested.

Elaana shook her head. “He’s boring too. He was fun at first, but now it just doesn’t have the same thrill…” She sighed.

Zalaana frowned. “Yeah, the divorce kinda ruined it…” She muttered, looking thoughtful again for a moment before her face brightened suddenly. “Oh, that shipment from pandaria should be here! We could head home and try some of them out while Mom and Dad are away…”  She offered, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Elaana sighed again, looking into space for a moment before answering. “...I dunno. Fingers, tongues, and toys are nice, but I’m in the mood for something more...male, you know?” She asked, looking back at her sister.

Zalaana nodded, frowning a little. “Yeah, I get it… Well, we could always go to The Sanctum. I bet a Felguard would scratch that itch nicely…” She suggested, grinning.

Elaana smirked slightly, but didn’t look hopeful. “Tempting… but I’d bet they’re booked solid by now.” She digressed, tone sinking with disappointment.

Zalaana narrowed her eyes at her moping sibling. “Well, we’re not gonna find out standing here! Come on!” She chided, grabbing Elaana by the dainty, manicured hand and pulling her along toward the shadowy archway on the far side of the Court of the Sun.

The arched entrance to the covered street loomed like the mouth of a great beast, fittingly, as it led to the city’s shadowy underbelly. Maps and officials still called it Augur’s Row, but the residents knew the dimly-lit and poorly-maintained street by a much more fitting name; Murder Row. Faint blue streetlights lit a boulevard where the city’s fel addicts, drunkards, criminals, and whores all gathered together where they could be conveniently ignored by those in charge. Brooms rarely came through, leaving shards of glass to pile up in the gutters, and guards pretended it didn’t exist. Children were warned to avoid it, but it was rarely spoken of. Ultimately, nearly everyone found themselves walking Murder Row at some point, looking for something unsavory. And if you saw a familiar face while you were there, you just looked the other way, because admitting the meeting meant admitting you were there, too.

The Sanctum was right near the entrance to the row, easily recognizable by the tall, narrow archways shrouded in billowing, transparent midnight blue curtains. An imperious-looking warlock in crimson robes stood by the entrance, his stoic demeanor a sharp contrast to the violet-skinned succubus prancing around in front of him, striking provocative poses for passing men. As the twins approached, the warlock caught sight of them, a look of recognition crossing his face, and grinned. “Welcome back, ladies…” He greeted, sweeping the sheer curtain aside with one arm and gesturing them inside with a small flourish.

Suddenly, the streetlight beside the building was suddenly eclipsed by a looming silhouette. “A-hem.” The figure cleared its throat in a deep, baritone voice, and all three elves looked in its direction at once. Their eyes fell upon an eight-foot square-shouldered wall of gleaming silver and gold armor, crowned with a pair of long, wickedly pointed horns. The figure stepped closer, away from the streetlight, massive, iron-shod hooves clopping on the pavement as the shadows faded away to reveal the tauren’s features in more detail, from his long, braided beard to his scars. His dark-furred brow furrowed as his icy blue eyes regarded the warlock with a look of suspicion. A gauntleted hand rose, coming to rest on the pommel of the mace hanging off his belt, its spherical golden head as large as any one of the elf’s heads. 

[/preview]

Musing- The Last of the Giants

[pre-story]The last giant and his beautiful lover find a moment of tenderness in a cave while on the run. [redacted][/pre-story]

The Last of the Giants

Asha stared into the dancing flames of the campfire like they would give her an answer, hugging her knees to her chest as she sat on the stack of furs and leaves that served as a bed. Orange firelight gleamed the cave walls and her ebony skin, the flickering light casting shadows on her face. Back in the village, she’d been praised for her beauty, for her smooth skin, her soft features, her wide hips, her toned waist, and her full breasts, each shapely mound the size of a ripe melon. When she’d come of age, men had come from distant cities, offering her father herds of goats, bushels of grains, fine pottery, luxurious furs, and even spears of iron in exchange for her hand in marriage. Even now, that beauty was still clear, even if her short, curly black hair wasn’t quite as neatly trimmed as it once was, even if she was covered in dirt and scratches, even if her clothes were ragged, even if her eyes were red with smoke and tears.

Musing- Pride

[pre-story] [redacted] Set in the same multiverse as The Thousand Titles of Angra Ba'ahram.[pre-story]

Pride

Belili was on the hunt, and she was getting close. She could almost taste her prey’s mana already. Golden, predatory eyes narrowed as they looked up at the sultan’s grand palace, protected by high walls and an army of guards, both to keep enemies out and the sultan’s vast harem in. Her full, soft lips twisted in a wicked smirk. All too easy. Her physical form flickered like a candle’s flame for a moment, then vanished. Her aetheric form drifted effortlessly through the thick wall, then flew, guided unerringly toward one looming tower, straight toward the mana of her prey. Such a spell was expensive, and would have been far beyond the means of her weaker siblings, but Belili was no common succubus. She was the favored hunter of Ba’Hadad, the Sovereign of the Crimson Isles, sent to drain the most powerful mortals of the lesser realms, both to ensure they couldn’t defend against his might, and to feed his ravenous hunger for mana.

Musing- Mistakes P. 1

[pre-story]A bride-to-be's mistakes come back to haunt her as she winds up stuck on a island resort with her studly ex. An unfinished story, told over a couple of old bonus chapters I'm releasing to the public.[/pre-story]

Mistakes P. 1

Olivia had made a mistake. It seemed so long ago now, but she still remembered the moment she’d made the decision. That choice had led to one mistake after another, and after laying dormant for years, it had risen to the surface once more to lead her to her latest mistake. She stood on the dock, barefoot, her long auburn hair catching the sea breeze as she felt the heat of the mediterranean sun on her fair, freckled skin. Her lithe, athletic body was clad in a colorful bikini, which only served to emphasize her narrow, toned waist, her tight, shapely ass, and her perky B-cup breasts. She looked out across the water, watching the ferry speed away, leaving her on the resort island to enjoy her solitude and comfort. The ferry’s supply deliveries would be her only contact with the outside world for the length of her week-long vacation, until it was time for the wedding. Her mind drifted back to that very first mistake.