I was on my way to sell my sword to the count of Anteron, when I lost my way in Dimbark woods. While this was not overly concerning, it still wouldn't do to let anyone know it had happened, not if I meant to set my sword to the right pay grade. So, I doggedly moved on ahead through the trees, hoping to come across a trail or landmark.

Really, though, I began to fear I was just getting lost all the more. Perhaps tomorrow, if the trees thinned out and I could find a decent knoll or meadow, I might even spot some chimney smoke or a village, maybe some livestock, anything to lead me back to where I needed to go. For today, with evening coming on, the best I could hope for was a brook to slake my thirst and a dry spot to bed down on. Perhaps make a fire. I carried some bread and cheese in my pack, and so wasn't too worried about spending the night out here. At least it was still rather easy going though the underbrush.

Then I heard the sounds of battle.

Fighting. Close by. And even as I drew my greatsword from the scabbard on my back, I noticed it was rather one-sided, this clamor in the woods. Orcs, from the sounds of it. Roaring away to wake the dead, as they always did, and since there was no return shouting, cursing or the sounding of horns, one could say they must be fighting among themselves. That was no place to be either. When orcs fought each other, you got out of the way and let nature take it's course!

Yet something compelled to me to draw closer and take a better look, because it just didn't sound right, this fighting. Sure enough, edging up through the last of some overgrowth, up the side of this small gully, I beheld a sight I surely didn't expect to see out here among the pines.

An elf woman was fighting three large orc warriors in a clearing. And from the looks of it, she was hard pressed indeed. Garbed in nothing but the teal green leathers of a forest ranger, she was caught out too far from the trees, and ringed in on all sides by the massive green brutes. Her bow and quiver lay useless on the ground, and she had to resort to fighting with a slender, short stabbing sword. Her opponents, on the other hand, all wielded the crude cleavers and clubs of their kind, and their roaring was more out of frustration for how this lone elf was still able to keep them at bay. Darting and stabbing as she was, they were unable to close with her, lest she skewer one of them through the throat, so the best they could do was keep her from escaping. They obviously meant to wear her down until she tired out and faltered.

I was up on my feet and moving before I was even aware I was doing so, and the clearing here afforded me a full handed swing with my sword, which decapitated one orc so cleanly from behind, that the other combatants hardly had time to realize what was happening. But realize it they did, and even as the orcs turned and focused their roars on me, the elf woman shot me a glance over her shoulder with these pearl blue eyes before ducking back out of the way.

The two remaining orcs, who now ignored the elf completely, came charging straight for me, instead, their blood rage shifting to the human with the sword who had just parted head from shoulders of their friend. Swinging my greatsword in another broad swipe, and cursing my own foolishness, I managed to stall the impetuousness of their charge by making them jump back, and in that moment, the orc on my left howled as two arrows suddenly appeared in it's back. The elf woman had recovered her bow surprisingly fast, and fired even faster, and even as this orc keeled over dead, the third turned back around and drew his arm back, meaning to throw his chopper at her. I never gave him the chance. Using a fenswe up-cut, followed by a midtars maneuver, I cut hand from wrist, and then head from shoulders, feeling no small sense of satisfaction as the large green body fell apart and crumpled to the ground.

Just like that, we were the victors, and only now, as the adrenaline hit me, did I lean on my greatsword and fight to catch my breath. Elation filled me, of the kind after battle that makes you thrilled to be alive and unscathed. I turned to my erstwhile ally, a foolish and sweaty grin on my face, ready to sing her praises right along with my own, but upon turning around I found myself at the point of her sword.

The elf woman was breathing hard too, a sign of how just put to it she had been, but there was no elation in her face, just a severe, intense hostility, gleaming out from those pearl blue eyes. Her chin was down and her lips were pulled back in a fierce snarl, standing in a fencing posture of some kind and half prepared to strike me down. I didn't take time to think on what kind of style she was practiced in. I was more focused on the fact she was prepared to skewer me right through the eye.

“Whoa, there! Now hold on, girl!” I said, suddenly not daring to move as her blade stayed right in my face. She was no girl. She was probably three, even four hundred years older than me. And she was Asuryan. Elf kind. Because of that, I was under no illusions I had a chance here. Next to her, my skill with a greatsword was probably quite inferior and clumsy, to say nothing of how I was no match for her speed and accuracy with a bow. The orcs had managed to outflank her and divide her attention, but like this, now that I was her lone adversary, the advantage was all hers. I had to convince her I wasn't an adversary, or I could soon end up very dead. Slowly I raised my free hand in a gesture of peace, my sword still resting on the ground, and I not daring to make any sudden movements.

“Woman, I am your friend.”

“You are human,” she panted. Like a dog.

“Well, I'm no orc.” I protested mildly. “And our kind are not at war. We have aided each other before.”

“Not I! I need not some human's help!” Another bark. Almost a shout. She was shaking with anger and even sweating, looking truly furious. Or was she? To my shock, what I realized I was confronted with here, was blood rage. Asuryan blood heat. A thing that was well known throughout the old world. A frightful, almost sinister battle lust that rested in all elf blood, and when it came upon them like a fever, it turned them into frenzied killers in every sense of the word. Where they were lethal before, they would then become whirlwinds of death and flashing steel, feeling no pain and fast as lightning.

Berserkers.

I had to assume this maddening clash with three orcs had pushed her to it, her frustration seething inside her until it focused on me. Small comfort that I had helped her, even. It was all she could do just to listen, and like this she was barely in control and struggling to spare my life.

Well, I had every interest in helping her do just that!

“Help you I did, and I can't fight you, maiden.” I implored with her.

At that she grinned, looking almost maniacal. Spittle flecked her chin as she was still breathing hard, right through all those perfect, pretty teeth.

“That's right,” she said. “You can't. You're a human. A cow. Sloth. Bearded beer drinker no better than a dwarf!”

I swallowed hard, my mouth going dry. Where before the needle point of her short stabbing sword hovered unmoving at eye level, now it wobbled down slightly to aim at my throat, as her voice reached a fever pitch. She was losing it. Losing control. The blood pounding in her pointed ears must have been screaming for my own. I wondered, would she cut off my ears just for the fun of it? Before she stabbed me through the gullet?

The oddest detail stuck out to me just then, with me looking past the gloved had that gripped her blade, in that I realized, right through her leather jerkin, that her nipples were extremely hard. It was true! She was after all, an elf maiden, as timeless and beautiful as all the kind, with long legs and an impossibly small waist lending her this ethereal allure. A perfect body. Of a kind that few human women could ever hope to match, and apparently that extended right out to her perfect nipples. She was also naturally flawless, with a cream like complexion and platinum blonde hair, tied back from her face in a ponytail by a simple leather string, which only enhanced her features in it's simplicity.

Granted, I liked my tavern girls a bit more 'ample' but all the same, what kind of breasts did it take to actually push those nipples up through a leather bodice like that? And even after a pitched battle, she smelled like fresh spring air. Flowered meadows. Brewed apple tea. Cinnamon bread.

Stunning. Altogether stunning.

While very much wanting to stay alive, I had an almost equally irresistible urge to kiss her just then! I swallowed some more, my mouth still dry with these warring feelings, but I found myself going back to just staring at her chest, unable to look away.

Two things happened at that point. She seemed to take in where I was staring, and looking down at herself for a moment, at the way her leather bodice was stretched tight over her proud nipples, her head came back up with a snarl of realization, and indeed she drew back her sword back for a killing thrust, but at that same moment, I dropped my sword at her feet with a dulled clank and flung myself at her, wrapping her up in my arms.

I had two reasons for doing so. One, it was stop her from sticking me clean through, and two, I somehow, in someway, needed to have her. To have my arms around her. Regardless, it was perhaps the last thing she expected, and it was the only thing that saved my life, for berserk elf warrior or no, up close like this a man's weight and strength could take over. She'd be no match for me.

Or so I thought.

Crashing over onto the leaf covered ground, and landing on top of her here in this clearing, I had sense enough to just grab both her wrists, but soon found out it was like trying to hold onto a snarling panther. Disarmed, her sword falling away somewhere off to the side, this elf woman let out a scream of rage and began struggling for all she was worth right under me. I took a grazing shot to my nadgers, which had me wincing, and so I determined to press myself in all the closer to her. Body to body. But all that did was bring us face to face, and while my superior weight held her down, there came a chance where we looked right into each other's eyes. At that supreme moment, our combat actually halted.

Up close, those pearl blue eyes of hers blazed like gems filled with white light, and I was in awe of being this close to them. To her beauty. Her softness. The wonderful scent of her breath on my cheek. I even found it within myself to half smile at her, so enchanting did it feel to be near her. In turn, she grew still and looked up at me, and I felt the return of some my old roguish dash through my sudden lovesick want. After all, those tavern girls I favored always did tell me I was rather handsome. Perhaps a kiss for this fair elf maiden was all that was needed here? The favor of a handsome rogue, to still the fierce warrior woman out for blood, yes?

Then she headbutted me in the face.

Stars exploded in my vision that had little to do with any enchanted romance. In truth she nearly broke my nose, and pinching up my face, I just managed to turn it to the side as I still held her down, but all this did was allow her to butt me in the eyeball next, opening a small cut on my brow.

“Stop!” I wailed, struggling to hold on to her. “Stop it!”

She was spitting mad with fury and truly berserk, and opening my eyes, I found myself pulling up and away from her as far as I could, as she actually reared up and bit at me next. At my very throat. Pretty teeth indeed! The clacked together like a badgers! This was all rather sobering, given my sudden awestruck adoration from a moment ago, and I fought to get my wits about me.

“Stop! Stop this madness!” I continued to cry. But then, a few drops of blood from my cut brow dripped onto her face and the result was startling. She actually cried out in what could only be called sexual ecstasy, if ever I have heard the kind before, arching her back, and letting out this deep, bark of pleasure that must have hit her like a blow to the loins. I nearly let go of her, so orgasmic a sound she did make! But at that, she yanked her legs out from under me and spread them to me instead, making me slump between them, where she then finished the motion by locking them around my waist!.

By all the Gods, who now grappled with who!?

“Please!” I gasped weakly, as she squeezed my waist to such a point my back sang out in sudden pain.

“Don't do that! Stop!” I cried.

“No stop!” she snarled, her tongue darting out and trying to lick the spot of my blood off my cheek.

“More! Must have more!”

“My dear, you are lost to a blood fever!” I panted, simultaneously trying to hold her down, and stay away from her gnashing teeth and tongue.

“Fuck meeee.” she snarled, as she tried to lick my face again, where the blood had run a little like a tear. By all the Gods, did she just say that!? Well, yes, she did. And the fact is, I wanted to. Badly. I felt myself surging hard in my own trousers with all this wrestling, but I also knew my peril. Apparently, I was getting a deeper lesson in exactly what the Asuryan blood rage was all about, and to put it simply, I was afraid to let her go! She was demanding battle of one kind or the other and satisfaction as well, and I was suddenly afraid in a way that had little do with any desire for a kiss!

“You...must stop...you...are not yourself!” I repeated as we tussled about.

She still had her legs around my waist, and had switched from trying to trying to kick me off of her, to now clutching me to her, using the nimble agility of her kind to show me what she wanted by shoving her crotch into mine. Lifting her bottom off the forest floor, as it were, and grinding herself against my own poor hardness, right through out clothes, even as had one booted leg up on my back, urging me to stay on top of the matter.

“Fuck now! Fuck now!” she demanded.

I would have if I dared, though I was terrified to let this crazy she-bitch go! Not for an instant. We rolled over in our struggles, kicking up a swath of dirt and debris, and bumped up against one of the dead orcs. Then we were rolling back the other way, but never once did I get free of those gripping legs. At a loss for what to do, with it being all I could do to still hold onto her wrists, I found myself fighting against her embrace for all I was worth.

“Remember your station!” I finally shouted, right in her face.

This seemed to do the trick, my recalling of that regal discipline and self control that all elves presented to the world. Stunned by my words, for a moment that mad shining light left her eyes, and she came back to her senses, panting hard on her back and blinking up at me as if seeing me for the first time. She looked just as perplexed as I myself must have looked, given how we were down here on the forest floor and wrapped up together.

“You....you...” she began.

“I came to your aid.” I panted, breathing hard. “To fight the orcs.”

“It's...it's the blood fever.” she exhaled, swallowing hard and letting her head fall back on the leaves, looking up at the sky.

“I can feel it. You're in danger.”

“I can well believe it.” I had squeezed my one eye shut against the pain of my cut brow, wondering what to do next.

She looked back up at me.

“Who are you, warrior?”

“Arthur Pen Dallun. Greatsword.” I managed a feeble smile, squinting my one eye at her.

“Why does my forehead ache so?” she frowned.

“You did pummel my face with it, lady.”

She raised her head up and looked down between us, at the way we were entangled, with her legs still up around me.

“What is this other thing I feel? It presses into me most privately.”

“Erm...well, my body had ideas of it's own, my dear.” I swallowed. “You're rather enchanting, but also rather terrifying. Couldn't we talk about this?”

“You shouldn't be here.” she looked at me again, sharply. “Not like this. I should be with one of our own males.” She dropped her head back on the leaves, at the same time she dropped her legs from around me. I began to relax a little.

“Tackling you was all I could think to do.” I winced, my sides and ribs aching.

But she was looking again at the warm little tear of blood drying on my cheek. Her eyes shifted a bit and lost focus, with that strange light rising once again in them. Uh-oh. For my own sake, I realized part of me wanted to stay right where I was and let her have me. Part of me wanted to let her tear me apart and maybe even bite my throat, so I fought hard for my own focus. The throbbing in my eye helped.

“Here now, stay a moment! Hey, you!” I shook her by the wrists.

Her eyes cleared and she blinked at me again a few times.

“We need to have sex.” she suddenly announced, before I could say one word more.

“We do?” I gawped at her.

“You obviously want to. It's the pheromones for you, the blood fever for me. Human and elf. The only way to snap us both out of it is to have sex. Immediately! Before it comes back.”

Pheromones were a little less potent than blood fever, and while it was true I longed for her in body, I held onto my wits long enough to think of another way out.

“I could...I could always tie up you.” I suggested, fighting an urge to break out in a big stupid grin.

“Do you have any rope?” she sneered back, sounding dubious.

“No.” I looked up and around at the clearing and then back down at her.

“If I must, I...I would fear striking you.”

She frowned at me, more out of frustration than anything else. “If you try that, it will just make everything worse. Trust me.”

“Oh, Gods. Then what can I expect here?”

“Let go off my arms.” she instructed, but I hesitated.

“Quickly!” she snapped.

At my letting go of her, this elf maiden immediately began to undo her leather bodice. Naturally, I knew what that meant, and found my mouth going dry yet again. Furthermore, she had no intention of just loosening it. She was undoing it completely. Holding myself in check, watching that, was bitter sweet torture, and soon enough, moving fast in her haste, she freed up her breasts and let them out, where they all but burst up into sight from beneath her clothes. I think she did this because they were actually swollen a little. Perhaps even painful for her, for her nipples were so tight and taught that had stiffened into two small pink cones and her breasts looked like two overripe melons. I couldn't help myself. I leaned in like a love sick puppy to suck on one of those luscious pink nubs, but now it was her turn to snap me out of it. She pushed me back by the forehead with her fingers.

“Hey, you! Stay focused!” she cried, before shoving her hands down between us both and fumbling for my belt.

“You...must...get your pants off. And then mine! Quickly!”

“Right, right.” I nodded sleepily, my brain feeling addled, and fumbling with my pants.

Well, you can only say that we tried. The fact is, though, it was a fool's errand, doomed to fail. The act of trying to have sex as quickly as possible, only served to bring her blood fever back for sex. In fact, I had only just managed to pull off her long, leather boots, after freeing myself from my trousers, when it snapped back over her like a whip.

Between one heartbeat and the next she attacked me, rearing up off the forest floor and flinging her arms right around my head. I gave out this startled little squeak of surprise as she pulled me back down, where she dragged my face to her overripe breasts and commenced to start slapping them back and forth across my features in a mad fever of lust. That little bit of blood from my cut brow ended up smearing itself on her chest, and this only served to drive her on like some kind of wild animal.

“I want to fuck! Fuck now!” she screamed, mashing my face to her breasts.

I fought for air between those soft swollen mounds, and the only thing that saved my sorry self was that she seemed to realize the fucking wasn't actually taking place. Pushing me back up, she looked down between us again and beheld my erection as it hovered over her bare stomach, aimed between her legs where she still had on her own leather trousers. Snarling in frustration, this she-elf flipped me onto my back as easily as if she had been flinging aside a blanket, and coming back over me in the same manner, barefoot and bending her legs at the knees, she then straddled me.

“Fuck now!” she snarled again, and grabbed my cock hard with both hands. Verily, she did squeeze it like a broom handle and I let out a cry of alarm somewhere between a kicked dog and a frightened little girl.

“By all the heavens, PLEASE!” I wailed. Laughing, she let go off me, and to my further shock, and growing terror, she reached down herself and tore open the crotch of her own leather trousers. This must have been why she was in such haste to undress. She hadn't wanted to ruin her clothes. And so much for my being the stronger! Laying on my back, gulping like a fish, I looked down between us. There I beheld this wonderful, pink, little pussy, hairless and smooth, and I found myself all but intoxicated at the sight of her glistening moisture. Even as I watched, it did drip upon my own bare skin.

“Oh, that beautiful peach!” I groaned in sorrowful ecstasy, my addled brain wanting to compose a poem to it right on the spot, even as my poor member did wave weakling in the air before it. But I had no time for such flippancy. This elf woman would not be denied.

“Beautiful! Peach!” she repeated, snapping out the words in sharp agreement, caught up as she was in her own madness. She also came forward suddenly, walking right up my body on her knees, her pussy brushing my cock aside, to just slam her butt down on my chest. The air did leave my lungs in a puff, and I had but a moment to realize what she intended, even as she pinned down my arms with her legs.

“You drink!” she snarled, gripping a fistful of my hair and wrenching my face up between her thighs. Through the rent in her leather trousers, she made me do just that, mashing me into her moist cleft. It must be said, that the heat of her aroused sex would have been pleasant under any other circumstances, but like this? Backed by her fevered strength? It was like suddenly being smothered with a hot, wet towel! And me without time to yet take a breath.

“Drink!” she screamed. I do not jest, here. Whatever it is she wanted me to do, she meant it in the literal term, and thinking that I was there only to eat her pussy, instead I found myself subjected to a sudden flow of hot lemon tea that burst out all around my face. I spit, I spat, I sputtered, and I even got it in my eyes, but then I just held my mouth open, my pinched up eyes stinging with the flow, even as I fought to do as ordered.

You could actually hear the cup like sound of my open mouth filling up with the wash of her, and then she reached down and snapped my chin shut with her hand, forcing me to swallow, and almost making me bite my own tongue. Ye Gods! My eyes snapped open in time with my own gulp, and shoving herself back a bit on my chest, she came down close to me with her own face, leering over me like this, her long, warm fingers still gripping my face shut.

“Is good. Drink good. Me love you long time.” and then she let go, pushing herself back again and working her way down my body once more to get near my cock. It was true that whatever was in the water of her body acted almost like an aphrodisiac, and my member was waiting for her, straightening out so hard between my legs now, I thought it would rupture like an overripe cucumber.

Throb does not begin to describe the state of my poor little greatsword!

“Oh, Gods.” I groaned, raising my head and looking down between us, then coughing and struggling to sit up, with the sting of her in my eyes and the warmth of her in my tummy. Love potion or no love potion, I was still frightened. Thus I did manage to take hold of her by the waist as she got back over my erection, readying herself to sit down upon it.

“Wait. Wait, please!” I begged.

She looked up suddenly, as if registering the fact I was trying to sit up, and slapping a hand on my chest, with one violent shove she slammed me down flat on the forest floor, crunching the leaves around me. Spotting something else, she suddenly reached over and found the handle of her stabbing sword among them, and dragging it back up into my line of sight, now making my eyes bulging out of their sockets, she laid the cold steel right back across my throat, her own eyes two bright shining blue balls of lustful malice.

“You stay. You fuck.” she ordered, in a cold, no nonsense tone.

“I am! I will!” I wailed, even as I pulled her down onto my cock, her free hand guiding me in just so, so that I managed to push my aching organ right up into her. Her chin went up and she let out a growl of pleasure at this, her eyes going half closed as he body relaxed into the sensation.

“Yessss.” she purred.

I guess that saved my life.

And what passed after that was a never ending blur of this howling elven banshee, half naked and up on her bare feet, riding me like a saddle, and all the while raking her fingernails up and down my chest and stomach. That hurt. That hurt a lot, I must say, and I had visions of punching her right off me like that. The only thing stayed my hand, was the knowledge it probably would just have excited her all the more!

I don't think I would have survived that.

Afterward came more tit slapping, smacking my line of sight left and right across the clearing with her breasts, and in my haze, with my cock pinched hard up inside her engorged sex, all I could think about was that the orcs laying dead over there had gotten off lightly. And pinch she did. Asuryan muscle control is superior to the point of sadism when compared to a human. I felt as if she held me in a vice between her legs, and there might have even been danger of her nipping me off completely if she kept up that squeezing! All it really did, was trap the blood in my cock and keep me hard, so that this elf whore could slam herself against me all the harder in return, crushing my nadgers and making me bend at the waist with each hard hit.

Then there was chest, shoulder and stomach biting. And more hair pulling. Tugging on my sack, to stabbing her fingernails into my back and bare ass. Smacking, slapping, spitting and hitting. It was enough to make me feel I was locked in combat. Which I was. I was even pinned down at one point with her legs spread out straight to the sides as she slammed up and down on my cock, her bare elven ass humping me like she was churning butter. Or mashing my potatoes. Not content with that, at another point I was ripped to my feet and flung against a tree, the bark scraping my ass raw even as leaves rained down around us, with this elven slut back around my waist and hanging on to an overhead branch in front of me. Having wrapped her legs around me and tree trunk both, she commenced to slam herself on me all the more, to the point even the birds and squirrels fled to a safer perch.

Gadzooks! Great Sumtra save this poor man's flesh!

All this while she kept up a steady torrent of trash talk, running me down for being a human weakling and the like, and if my member began to flag in light of this abuse, she would grapple with me again and force a nipple into my mouth, proving that indeed her breasts were swollen taut with the same love potion. For she would then give one an almighty squeeze and send such drink as it were gushing down my throat. More aphrodisiac, more juice! To keep me hard and keep me going, I was drowned in her milk! Then battered, beaten and abused in the interval, all of it to make me last far longer beyond my means, with my accursed penis never flagging or refusing to falter.

Much later, coughing, stumbling, maybe even trying to get away from her, she would grab me thrice and drag my naked self back down among the leaves, and if there had been anyone to see, they'd have seen bracken kicked up in all directions as I fought for my very life over and over with each new penetration, as surely had I been on the front lines, sword in hand and thrusting away!

Somewhere, somehow, it all came to an end, and the birds once more dared whistle among the trees, with the squirrels looking down in still contemplation of all they had just witnessed.

********

Much later, long after the sun went down, I wearily came dragging myself and my sword out of the dark, up along the road to a woodcutters shack. My clothes were rent, there were leaves in my hair still, my one eye was swollen shut, and I had a bloodied lip. I was also carrying one boot, with my sword dragging in the gravel behind me and leaving a long groove there, testimony to how I had finally escaped the insane slut's lair. The woodcutter and his lads saw me coming, having heard my moans and groans from afar, and standing in the light of this open door and inviting window, they watched as I drew near to them. From within I could hear other voices, and smell some kind of meal. All I wanted was some water. And a chair to sit down on.

“By the God's, son, what has happened to you?” the lead man asked of me.

I stopped, sagging in my own bones, and looked around a bit at them, coughing and blinking.

“I...I meant to...sell my sword to count Anteron.” I croaked, then swallowed.

“I think.”

“That's a half day's west, but you better come inside.” the big man stepped aside even as he took me by the arm, helping me shuffle forward a bit more.

“You look like you've done your fair share of fighting already.”

The End