StarChaser: Another (18+)

The Coliseum was packed with audiences from all walks of life, an arena that according to one of the Maesters easily held up to a hundred thousand people. It was likely an overestimation since that probably only accounted for races that were around the same size as humans like Princess Philia herself.

Nonetheless the venue was packed to full capacity. Today’s event was different, there were no famous warriors and mages battling for a great prize as well as prestige to show who was the strongest, today it was an event that involved hated criminals fighting amongst each other. It wouldn’t matter who won or who died, there would be no brawling in the stands amongst the audience as none of their heroes would be battling it out with each other.

Instead it would be the heroes battling it out against the cultists of the Red Moon, that fanatic cult that plagued the Kingdom of Istria for years. One by one the heroes made their entrance to great applause and then a group of captured cultists emerged from the depths of the coliseum to a resounding jeers, booing and heckling from the crowd. 

Most of the cultists ignored the bloodthirsty crowd’s noise but many without fail were enraged at the stage insult on the far side of the arena.

Atop a raised platform surrounded by guards was a large bed, on it was the Red Priest, Eliria formerly of House Corwen, and a Knight of impressive stature. Aside from the sure prospect of many cultists being slain, the crowd was being entertained by the public mating between the Red Priest and the Knight with a huge member that matched his impressive physique.

Eliria tried to bear this indignity with grace but the Knight’s expert lovemaking left her gasping in a passionate voice and her body’s reaction to his ministrations made  it clear to everyone watching that she genuinely felt pleasure. So enraptured was she in the heat of passion that she put up no resistance as the Knight plundered her ladyhood,  putting her in such humiliating positions that emphasized his impressive length girth and showed off her body to the crowd. 

High above the arena a set of large sigils broadcast the action for all to see clearly and some made sure to focus on the Red Priest herself, making sure in no uncertain terms that she had taken leave of her senses, her flushed face, pleasure-filled cries, her hands and legs gripping the big man tightly announcing her surrender to the carnal delights she was being given.

Distracted, the cultists one by on one died, their last sight on Terragaia being the sight of their most talented leader in years being disgraced publicly, she was no longer some talented, intelligent leader that saw to many successes of the Order of the Red Moon but reduced to moaning like a shameless slut, the Knight turning her so she lay on her side, one leg high up so everyone could see the penetration in all it’s intimate detail, the throbbing thick shaft plundering her ladyhood which stretched wide to accommodate the massive intruder, her breasts with their hardened nipples delightfully bouncing to each thrust, her soft  kissable lips opening and closing as she gasped.

The men hooted and cheered at the Red Priest's erotic body while the women squealed with glee at the beautiful Knight while at the same time booing and hurling insults on the Red Priest; such a waste of a good man on an evil witch, he should be the one at their beds one night, his stamina was so impressive he was doing the work of a whole  team by himself.

Princess Philia watched the proceedings squirming in delight, the only member of Royalty present. Her Lord Father was busy with real business in the Kingdom in his office, her Grace the Queen was busy flaunting the Kingdom’s power by touring the army around the borders, making sure those insufferable Selzed Imperials and their army of conquest-hungry grunts remained on their side of the river. The Crown Prince was assisting their Lord Father in his work while she alone had all this fun time to herself. 

Her Lady’s Maid, confidant, and personal spymaster Selphie, watching her mistress squirm in her seat. Seeing this too many times, her elvish ears twitched but her face remained impassive. She put a hand on her shoulder, and when the Princess looked up and nodded, the elf turned her head to the line of beautiful maids, who then looked at each other until they found out who it was that was chosen.

A pink-haired maid stepped forward, like everyone in the princess’ personal entourage she was beautiful, her ears were long like an elf’s but not as much, and they dropped cutely down. Her horns were well-polished and manicured so they were short blunt stubs adorned with trailing ribbons. Respectfully she approached and knelt before Philia, making sure she never got in the way of her vision. 

The Princess scooted her butt over, inching slightly forward in her seat as the Felmoon maid neatly folded away the front of her skirt and pulled her panties down. The maid leaned forward and began to quietly lap up the Princess’ heated ladyhood, her rougher than usual tongue providing her mistress with extra pleasure as she watched public mating continue.

***

Philia's eyes fluttered open and sure enough she had been dreaming, but her maid Ariane was dutifully between her legs, making sure she had a pleasant morning. The quiet sounds of her sucking and licking did not compete with the melodic chirping of the birds. 

“Good Morning your Grace.” Selphie bowed, as did the rest of her retinue.They all kept pleasant expressions on their faces, but Selphie was sure some of them were feeling envious of not being able to attend to their mistress’ habitual morning pleasures. 

“I have received information regarding Eliria, it says as per your instruction she had become docile. The  application of a pleasure slave’s markings were completed with no struggles, and the polling of her Core Gem was met with no resistance either…” she paused briefly as her mistress  let out a small cry of pleasure as Ariane brought her to a satisfying climax, her tongue and lips continuing their ministrations to prolong and intensify the flow of pleasure. 

The maids sighed in pleasure as they watched their mistress enjoy her climax. Some looked at each other and nodded as if appraising Ariane’s performance.

“C-continue…” Philia said breathily, both at Selphie and Ariane, although Ariane had never stopped at all.

“Kevron said that Eliria now calls herself Ingrid” Selphie saw a big smile on her face, she wasn’t sure if it was the mention of the alias or because of Ariane’s tongue work. “It appears that after her banishment from House Corwen she prefers to be called by that name.”

Philia let out a dreamy “Mhmm…” and let Selphie continue “...she claimed to be the Summoned Outworlder” she was interrupted when the maids,upon hearing this absurdity, quietly burst into giggles. The elfen maid ignored them, pausing only to wait for them to finish “her exposure to dark magic has granted her some inexplicable powers, she kicked a large hole through Fort Ontala’s outer walls, she resisted several mages trying to use a bind spell on her and when she refuses to move she becomes completely immovable. Before your letter arrived with the instructions you gave her, he was worried that Eliria would at flee the moment she got bored, and he was not sure if anyone could stop her.”

Some of the maids clenched her jaws, wishing to solicit the advice that Eliria should be killed right then and there, but held their tongue.

“She will obey,” Philia said after she digested this information “I wrote the next set of instructions on my desk, all that’s next is the usual written formalites, finish it up and send it as soon as possible, will you?”

“Yes Ma’am”  Selphie bowed, aside from having the authority to write on behalf of the Princess in terms of official correspondence she had (by Philia’s own orders) the ability to impersonate the Princess’ handwriting, a feat that she had to do several times over the years. 

Settling on the desk, the elf picked up a pen and started reading what was already written down, her study serenaded by the chirping of birds and her Princess’ erotic voice as she enjoyed herself. 

 

---

Fort Ontala

“Eat up” the  guard said “this isn’t a courtesy, when you’re brought to the capital you’re going to need all that energy to suffer for our entertainment.”

Welp, here comes the real medieval torture; the cuisine. Ingrid thought to herself, but the meal of bread, eggs, and sausages was not only familiar but was surprisingly tasty, having a good amount of salt and spices onto them.

Now that, she thought, is what makes a medieval world a Fantasy world.

A posse of mages was drafted to ensure her cell was shrouded with an additional barrier as a precaution. After they saw her kick  an enormous hole through the wall, it seemed that they wouldn’t be taking any chances. Not that it worried her. They didn’t put any barrier on the wall leading outside since it was a sheer drop. They didn’t know it but Ingrid had jumped off greater heights before. 

Still, the barrier was useful to her purposes. After breakfast she started seeing what she could do. She tried out various kicks, punches, and other strikes. Either she was copypasted into this world and this Eliria merely happened to look exactly just like her, or she had hijacked Eliria’s body, it was hard to tell because her flexibility, stamina and strength seemed to be exactly the same, although she did look slightly shaplier. She had no problems doing the splits or axe kicks, or jumping unassisted to touch the ceiling. She tried doing pull ups on the bars and it felt like she was doing it as Star Lily for she had been going on for a few minutes and there was no burn in her arms. The same went for push-ups and squat-thrusts, handstands were effortless, handstand pushups were no issue either.

She had various feelings with the guards ogling her and making lewd remarks but disgust and displeasure were neither of them. The main thing that would be stopping her was something that held no bearing in this world, she had been transferred in taking on the identity of some hated figure. From what she had heard from the guards last night, summoning people from another world was magic that existed but a highly guarded and forbidden secret. Something about otherworlders abusing their powers and becoming far more problematic than the issue they were summoned for.

With that, Ingrid could really care less if she was giving them a show. Axe kicks and Handstands showing off the vulva, labia slightly parting as her legs splayed out? Uppercuts, Backhands, Stationary Jogging making her breasts and buttocks bounce and jiggle a lot?  It didn’t matter since at this point her little streaker’s fantasy combined with already being in the worst case scenario was already in place. 

Besides, she had already been seen, so what was more important for her was to make sure she was tip-top shape. She was striking with enough force that she heard the air make a “whoosh!” sound as swung haymakers and roundhouses. At one point she swung a roundhouse kick near the bars and they rattled. On another, she threw a punch near a wall, and a low THUD thrummed the wall, as if something big and heavy bumped into it. 

The watching guards felt more confident now, based on how she acted last night. The way she was stretched out and had that humiliating tattoo over her crotch made anyone looking at her feel confident that this otherwise powerful witch can still be handled roughly when needed.

True, she was displaying immense strength but her Mana was ridiculously thin, combined with that collar she had foolishly had allowed to be placed on her neck they were sure that with enough mages she could be brought to heel.

Ingrid threw another uppercut, the ceiling a good six feet above thumped as if something extremely heavy had hit the floor but the guards merely whistled and clapped at the sight of her breasts bouncing in opposite circles, their motions further accentuated by the enchanted rings, she now knew they were more than just decorations, it for girls who had to have their tits hanging out, whether they wanted to or not. It made them more tiltillating to the eyes as they acted as support when needed by levitating to an optimal degree, as well as adding to its weight so that the glorious globes bounced enticingly at the slightest movement. 

A third ring around her clitoris also helped keep her in line. The girl’s face was flushed not just from exertion but also the pleasure as it probably added weight as she moved around.The spell around it was masterfully woven, being designed to never be too heavy to the point of pain (although it was possible). With these, watching Ingrid perform this strange conditioning routine was like watching a wild animal futilely smash itself against an unyielding cage, even though she was making no such attempt.

 

---

“You think she’s going to be sent to the Arena?” One of the guards asked, watching as Ingrid arm and leg muscles flex beautifully as she continued to exercise.

“It would be a good thing to see, this witch thinks she’s so tough, it would be good to have a hero take her down.” Another replied, he wasn’t familiar with what she was doing but it looked like she was doing it correctly. He had never figured the Red Priest to be a formidable warrior-monk but it retrospect, it made sense.

“Better than an execution, when those cultists in hiding witness their great leader fall in equal combat, they will be disillusioned.” the first one added.

“What is that cult you’ve been talking about?” Eliria, or rather Ingrid as she now called herself queried. “I’ve  heard why it’s illegal to summon otherworlders, and I’ve heard why this Eliria character is just a wanted criminal, but what’s this cult supposed to be after?” as she spoke she was punching with one hand very fast, that it looked like she had a hundred arms; a wall  of fists if one were to be facing her head-on.

“You really don’t know, do you? Did you hit your head or something?” The first guard said in disdain, he was sure that Eliria was bluffing, but he found no objection to answering her query. After all, he would be telling her only what she herself already knew.

“They’re a cult that worships the God of Storms Sazanael” he began, Ingrid was standing in profile view as she continued to to practice her rapid flurry of punches on thin air. It came in short bursts, but the bursts started lasting longer and longer though his eyes as well as everyone else was glued to her glorious breasts bouncing steadily due to her motions, the implications of what she could do with such an ability obscured in plain sight by her gold-ringed mammaries. “Every Dark Lord incumbent or otherwise owes his allegiance to the harbinger of destruction.”

“Why? Because Sazanael is evil?” Ingrid had switched to her other arm, although it wasn’t tiring at all. “Is it because of the dark clouds and dramatic thunder and lightning?”

“No, stupid blasphemer! Sazanael is merely Sazanael! From destruction comes creation! But they take his teachings of fortitude and new beginnings as an excuse to build their own society in their own image!”

“Well that makes sense.” Ingrid said, finishing her rapid-fire punches with a strong backhand that created a loud whipcrack in the air, “Heh, nice” she said in self-appreciation as she saw her boobs wildly zigzag about in response.

 

---

Capital city of Elion-Nosco

“Hey!” Ingrid said, poking her face through the bars of the wagon she was in “Don’t they want to see me? I’m Eliria, the biiiig baaaad monster!”

“Shut it, monster.” The handsomely dressed knight Caram said. He and a small company of powerful knights were inside the covered wagon they’re in, along  with some mages for extra caution. “We don’t want to scare people by showing your face.”

“But I’m as pretty as a fary!” Ingrid scoffed

“You’ve been knocking through five feet of stone and wood from my office above!” Caram snapped “make any more stupid moves and I’ll take your head off.”

Ingrid made a dismissive wave, pointing to the brightly glowing sigil on her collar. “You already got me and put what I think is a “slut” tattoo on my crotch, who’s afraid of a pretty girl like me?”

The men groaned and rolled their eyes “get married then, why don’t you?” Some said under their breath. 

 

When she was taken out of the wagon, she was wrapped around a cloak. While it felt nice to finally have some clothing on, she oddly thought of a movie scene where people were furtively transporting a live nuclear warhead through a crowded city, with the crates disguised with unintentionally funny labels like “Caution: Live Spiders.” or “Asbestos.”

When she saw where they were taking her, Ingrid made an expression of mock disappointment.

“The Playboy Mansion?” she said in mock-dismay “I was doing cardio for an Arena, and  you wanted a photoshoot? Well, jokes on you guys, I got my bikini body ready anyway.”

The wagon had stopped at the back of a Palace, which Ingrid thought was probably the service entrance. A group of pretty maids with stern expressions met the delegation. An elf, apparently the leader of the group, bowed to Caram.

“Welcome Sir Caram, by Her Grace's orders we will take it from here.”

Ingrid was expecting these big hunky knights to balk at the idea of bringing such a dangerous creature to them, but Caram merely nodded and his entourage walked away. 

“You were read Princess Philia’s letter, am I correct?” The elf said. Ingrid nodded. Play Along, she reminded herself. The elf opened Ingrid’s makeshift cloak and upon seeing the Pleasure Slave’s tattoo over  her womb, and the humiliating gold rings she winced, quickly closing and putting her hands on Ingrid’s shoulders.

“Please steel yourself miss Eliria, tonight will be extremely cruel to you. Come, I’ll  see to it you’re bathed.”

Ah yes, second round of Medieval Torture, industrial grade lye soap and shampoo, Ingrid thought. Please let these highlights be natural…