Cloudberry Chronicles is an erotic web series that follows the eponymous adventures of Cloudberry, an elf on a mission to save her homeland and bring peace. It predominantly features lesbian, pansexual and polyamorous characters who are both cis and trans for your reading pleasure. Each story is a fully contained adventure, and the beginning of the smut (if you want to skip the lore and get right down to business) is marked in bold. Follow my writing on: http://dresspockets.tumblr.com/
The wind was still, and for the first time in a long while the sun had peeked out from behind the clouds, setting its rays upon the rough cut stone of an old drow temple.
It sat alone on a small, rugged island near the centre of a lake. In the spring, bluebells covered the island in a purple haze. In the summer, the grove of aspens quivered and shook their thick, greeny-yellow leaves. In autumn, thick clusters of red berries coated the bushes and the local swans prepared to migrate. In the winter, the snows came.
It was winter now, and as the pale sunlight trickled down through the leaves it dappled over the floor of the ruined temple and the exposed stairwell. A shaft of light fell down the stairs, down and down until it hit a wall of ice and refracted around the large ice cavern hidden beneath.
It was once the resting place of an artefact of terrible and forbidden power, the Joy of Just-Ice, a crystal ball that attached itself to the wearer and brought about the most intense sensations and control over the cold.
Now, however, it was a tomb.
The light of the sun faintly touched upon the figure of a woman, kneeling besides an ornate throne. Her face was trapped in a look of complete despair and hopelessness, her arm outstretched towards the Joy of Just-Ice itself, a sparkling silver ball.
This was her mausoleum, her final resting place. Together she would rest here, watching over the Joy of Just-Ice until the end of time.
There was a thump from outside. The kind of thump that usually meant heavy boots upon stone.
Another thump. And another.
The sunlight entering the cavern was cut off as the figures descended the stairs, blocking its path and filling the hall with long, looming shadows. Three shadows. Three sets of footsteps upon the stone.
Three figures filed into the cavern, two cloaked with heavy capes and hoods and one a dark shadow. Steam rose from their flaming torches as they wandered over to a raised dais and pool of frozen water.
Like Cloudberry had found before them, the cavern was warmer than the outside. The tallest among them was the first to shuck off their massive, fur-lined cape, revealing veiny green skin and well-defined muscles. An orc male, he wore his hair long and loose down his back. Glittering golden caps covered his tusks, one broken near the base and the other curling up and over his cheek. A braided beard covered his jaw. His green skin was only broken by the crisscross of scars over his torso. Spear wounds, knife wounds, burns and magic blasts; all healed over time. More than could be said of those who attacked him.
“Khargosh dear, check for traps.”
The orc nodded and surveyed the nearest wall of ice.
“Enora, I trust you know what we’re looking for.”
The second figure inclined her head stiffly, a tall drow woman carrying a book that looked quite similar to Cloudberry’s, which now lay on the floor by her feet gathering ice crystals. Her eyes were a deep crimson, almost completely black and they seemed to mock anything she looked at. Her mouth was a cruel, thin line that did not smile for any reason. Her outfit was a black leather ensemble, all straps and harness and barely any skin coverage. Drow had no need to fear the cold, and her lithe legs with skin the colour of crushed grapes were open to the elements. Her hips were narrow, giving her a wispy and feminine silhouette. Short white hair cascaded down one side of her face, the other side an undercut.
On her chest she wore the insignia of the drow Queen’s personal executioner guild. An assassin. As she flipped through the book with deft fingers it became clear that some of the pages were unreadable, covered in the blood of its previous owner.
The commands came from the third figure, slightly smaller than the others, and plumper. Two twisted dark horns snaked out from beneath their hood and over their head, large enough to show that this must be a tiefling with many years behind them. They marched up to the dais with the statue of Cloudberry and the ornate throne, throwing off their black velvet cape and revealing a long train of thick dark hair, trailing behind them on the floor. Unlike the stoic and beanpole-like Enora, this tiefling rogue was a riot of sarcastic smiles and insolent curves. They walked with purpose, each hooved step a powerful blow, bouncing their breasts and exaggerating their wide hips.
They ran a finger across Cloudberry’s back as they walked past, leaving a path in the condensation from her ass to her head, and with ceremony sat down in the throne of Just-Ice and surveyed the room. They crossed their legs, the leather of their trousers creaking, and tapped their long red nails against the arm of the chair.
Their skin was a deep and unmitigated crimson, the only darker patch being the lips, which were maroon like the twilight sky. Like the drow assassin, they had no need for many clothes to keep them warm. Demon ancestry gave them an inner fire that burned brightly through their veins. The cape, therefore, was for dramatic effect. They wore a simple shirt of white cotton, unbuttoned and fastened via a sash at the waist.
The tiefling curled their tail elegantly around their leg and quickly surveyed the scene.
“Well well, what do we have here?” Words dripped off their tongue like honey, sweetening the air.
Their amber eyes had fallen onto the icy statue of the frozen elf girl. Echoes of the panic and humiliation could still be seen on her face, though icicles had started to form on her hair, her neck, her breasts and her outstretched hand. The tiefling saw something glitter near the hand of the ice maiden, and cocked their head.
“Enora dear, how long until you finish that damn book?”
The drow seemed to ignore her, before answering snappishly.
“Do not call me ‘dear’, hireling. It will be done when it is done.”
The tiefling grinned. My my, the dark elves were a short fused people. No matter, we had all the time in the world.
Hireling indeed…
They smirked to themself, and tapped their nails on the chair even louder. Loud enough to destroy the concentration of anyone trying to read a book nearby.
Enora moved further away, leafing through the book at a terrible pace. The mage who had been its previous owner had not been very forthcoming about its contents. Reluctantly however he had finally handed it over to her. She had had to kill him, of course, but at least the book was still mostly intact.
As she wandered away from the persistent tapping, she stumbled over something beneath the hoarfrost. Fabric? A pile of discarded clothes, scintillating with tiny ice crystals. She kicked them away and… What was this?
It was a copy of the same book she was holding, open to a page depicting what this very temple would have looked like in its glory days.
There was good news, and bad news.
The good news was, she now knew what artefact was in this temple. The bad news was, someone had been here before. She glanced suspiciously over to the statuette of Cloudberry and picked up the book, frozen stiff with the cold.
“Found something, sweetie?”
Enora winced, but let the endearment slide. This time. She would be glad when this mission was over, and she could watch the ‘dears’ and the ‘sweeties’ fade from the lips of that loathsome tiefling as she slit their throat. Or no – strangled them with their own severed tail. The suggestion of a hint of a smile played near her lips.
But no, for now, she needed this demon’s help. The orc was the muscle, the tiefling was the guide, and she was the brains. If this wasn’t the right place, she would still need their help. She turned to her reclining companion.
“We are looking for a relic the size of a small ball. It is the last remaining part of a set of seven objects, called the Offerings of Joy. All others have long since been destroyed, or lost. Each one was imbued with a different elemental spirit… I am guessing this is the ice one.”
“A small ball, you say…” The tiefling didn’t seem to be listening, only admiring the hands of the ice statue.
“Khargosh darling, I have a task for you.”
The orc up until that point had been checking the walls diligently for traps that were not there.
“Kargosh… I need you to melt this statue for me. I know how much you like elf maidens.”
Enora rolled her eyes. Their entire journey had been constantly interrupted by the tiefling’s merciless tormenting of the poor orc. Insatiable goat-headed fool! She couldn’t count the amount of times they had infiltrated a castle, or a hidden treasure vault, only to find her pleasuring herself with the artefacts or making Khargosh ‘test’ them for safety purposes. It’s true, many of them were highly dangerous sex magic constructs which cursed the user with unsuppressible urges, and had to be removed from their plinths with many a moan and a shudder, but this tiefling actually seemed to… delight in it.
Khargosh was not a stupid man. He knew a good job opportunity when he saw one, and travelling the world having magically enhanced sex with a gorgeous drow woman and a tiefling? Now that was living.
He put his hand on the head of the statue and felt the cold spread beneath his fingers.
He felt something else, too. Her body acted like a conduit for the artefact at her hand. He couldn’t help it, his dick began to swell.
As he moved his hand away from the statue small drops of water fell from his fingertips. The sexual urge passed but left him with a lingering bulge.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” The tiefling was watching him intensely, their fingers moving in little circles on the arm of the chair.
The orc let his hands slip under her frozen body, brushing off icicles and revealing the curve of her hanging breasts. The shape of her nipples brushed against the palm of his hand. As far as he knew, Cloudberry was just a statue, and her nipples had been carved that way to be intentionally hard and firm. He put his fingers on them and massaged gently, letting the warmth of his hands begin their job.
Drip, drip.
Water was definitely falling off the statue but the shape of her breasts didn’t change. If anything, they were more defined than ever.
Khargosh wasn’t one for small women. He liked his mates to be tall, muscular and buxom. But all this frost has given him an idea. Taking up a couple of large handfuls of snowy frost from the ground around them, he moulded it onto the statue’s chest.
“Ugh, you’re supposed to be melting it, not making it larger.” Enora sighed.
The snow seemed to know what it was supposed to do, and adhered to the statue instantly, making her breasts larger and more of a decent handful for the orc and his giant hands. Compared to Cloudberry, Khargosh must have been a good metre taller, at least. He smiled at his handiwork and cupped her pendulous bust with his hands.
Enora rolled her eyes at this childish display, but couldn’t tear her gaze away.
Cloudberry was on all fours, with one hand extended and her face held high. The orc ran one of his hands down her back, over her ass, and over her crotch. Water ran down her legs leaving glimmering trails of shine. He licked the water off his fingers. His hand found the ridges which were once her labia and pressed hard against the centre. Liquid trickled down his hand and dripped to the floor.
He positioned himself behind her and used his other hand to undo his belt. His dick was thick, uncut and veiny. Green like the rest of him, but its head was a throbbing emerald-tinged pink. His bulging veins were easily the size of a small elf girl’s finger, and his girth would take two elven hands to encircle. Being quite averagely endowed for an orc, Khargosh had always been amazed and a little embarrassed when his non-orcish partners had stared wide eyed at his manhood.
He no longer felt the cold, thanks to the power of the Joy of Just-Ice running through him. Only when he first placed his erection against her ass did he feel the frozen bite, but after a few thrusts rubbing his cock up against the groove between her cheeks he no longer felt the chill. Moisture covered his penis, a mixture of melted ice and precum. He voiced his contentment and his grunts echoed around the cavern.
The tiefling giggled under their breath and let their hand fall into their lap, not even attempting to conceal their lust as they rubbed their clit through their clothing. Enora was more reserved, a visible blush creeping over her wine-dark cheeks, and an equally visible bulge clearly defined in her tight leathers. In the matriarchal kingdom of the drow, it was not uncommon to find women born with penises, assigned the wrong sex at birth. She bit her lower lip and tried hard to think of something else, as a slight wet patch leaked from the tip of her penis and created a damp spot on her harness.
Khargosh’s ministrations were working. Where his fingers had been resting over her vulva, a hole had formed between her lips. He tried to enter it but it was still too small, the lips still too hard and icy to let him in. Instead when he tried to push inside, his cock slipped down between her legs, rubbing against her pussy lips and cushioned on each side by her thighs. He moaned and reached over her, wrapping his muscled arm around her neck and thrusting into her thigh gap. The melting ice lubricated his cock and allowed it to slide easily in and out.
As he did so, her legs parted slightly, and the weight of his body pushed her head to the floor.
I knew it. The tiefling thought, as Cloudberry began to regain some flexibility. This was no statue… only a silly, silly little girl.
Khargosh had barely noticed, the artefact was doing its work on him. He spread her legs out, and with a triumphant sigh lined himself up to enter her. It was still hard to get his girth inside her, but with persistence the ice melted more and more… and just as how adding the snow had increased her breast size, melting her ice was giving him a depth he couldn’t have reached were she flesh and blood. At first just this throbbing tip entered her, but with every subsequent thrust he entered deeper and deeper still, until his entire length was inside her with every push and his balls slapped against her lips. Only orc women, and some tieflings (he thought, briefly, of the one watching him right now) had the elasticity to handle a full blooded orc cock. Luckily, even elf girls could do it when their body shape could be melted into place.
Though some flexibility had returned, she was still completely transparent, and the watching party members could see his throbbing cock inside her, improbably deep and pushing hard against her boundaries.
“S-she’s a human! No, an elf!” Enora ran over to the statue, ignoring the sweaty orc, and cupped Cloudberry’s face with her hand.
“Does she still live? The tiny fool, does she know how dangerous sex magic can be?”
Enora’s hand went to her erection, gently stroking the tip with her thumb over her leathers. She had unwittingly touched the statue, and now the artefact will do its magic on her as well.
The tiefling bit her lip to see the drow woman get involved. At this point she had lost all pretence of sitting demurely, with one leg over the arm of the chair she was playing openly with her exposed pussy. She didn’t need a cursed artefact to enjoy herself. Her vulva was like a slit with no visible inner labia, only her engorged clitoris poking out near the top. Her pubic hair was black like the cascade of hair that ran messily down over the back of the throne.
The drow grabbed Cloudberry’s head roughly, and used two fingers to prise open her stiff mouth. With her other hand, she unbuckled the belt on her hip and her lower harness fell down. With a sharp intake of breath she felt the frozen chill in the air against her hot erection, but in a moment the artefact did its work and any coldness disappeared. Her dick was dark and long, curving up to a tip of light purple. Not as veined as the orc’s, it was hard in her hand. A faint dribble of precum glistened on her black thigh.
Enora scared the tiefling. Was it because she was a master assassin, or because her sadism showed itself in her lovemaking? Either way, she watched enthralled as the drow woman picked up the icy girl by the sides of her head (Was she grabbing her long elf ears, or her hair?) and pulled her mouth over her cock. Still translucent, the outline of Cloudberry’s tongue could be seen nestling it, her throat opening to receive it. Enora moaned and held her head in place as she thrust into her mouth, almost cradling her head into her crotch.
From his point of view, Khargosh could see though the back of the statue’s neck and he watched as the dark drow cock moved down her throat over and over again. As she melted, liquid dripped from Cloudberry’s mouth and with every push the face fucking created a delicious squelching sound.
It was too much, he couldn’t hold it any longer. He didn’t understand the sexual politics of the dark elves, but any woman who could wield a cock with such powerful purpose was alright in his book. He let go, and with a powerful orcish roar he came inside her. Cum spurted from his rose-tinted cock, filling her with hot liquid.
The tiefling gasped and grinned impishly as she saw the cum pooling inside her transparent belly, trapped in a swirl of pearly white. A couple of more gentle thrusts later, the orc shuddered and detached himself from the elf girl.
“Now Khargosh, she doesn’t look melted at all. You, on the other hand…”
He only waved a hand weakly in response, sweat and moisture pouring down his chest. He didn’t have time to reply, because it was at that moment that our brave heroine Cloudberry opened her eyes. Her skin was returning to a slightly more human colour, but it was still translucent. Only her extremities were turning back to her normal pinkish glow. Her pussy lips were red and engorged, cum dripping out of them from somewhere inside her.
Everything felt strange. She tried to speak but only a muffled moan came out.
“Mmmfh!”
At first she thought it was the ball gag still in her mouth, but no… she could clearly taste the savoury and salty mixture of skin and cum and, looking down, she saw the dark drow dick thrusting in and out from between her reddening lips.
And then, all the memories came flooding back to her.
She had been floating… no, drifting across a lake of refracted glass and secrets. Her eyes has been crystal balls, reflecting rainbows across her vision. Dreaming. She had been dreaming. Naked, her body glowed with a faint pink and blue bioluminescence, the water running past her with clouds of misty tendrils in its wake.
She remembered she had frozen. She remembered the Joy of Just-Ice just out of her grasp. Where was she?
Oh. Right. She was inside the ball itself, looking out.
She closed her eyes and breathed out. Breathed in. And out.
In and out.
When she next opened them she wasn’t alone. Gazing down over her was… a person? A face? It was hard to make out.
“Wake up sleepyhead!” A high pitched voice echoed around her.
She sat up on her elbows and lowed around. The figure darted away, perhaps on wings. She still couldn’t quite make it out.
“Who are you?” She wasn’t sure if she was speaking, but the words appeared in her mind.
“A friend, I guess. I really enjoyed our time together!”
She was talking to the spirit of ice which inhabited the artefact itself.
“I like you. I think you like me too. Will you take care of me from now on?”
“Yes.” She felt herself saying. “I will.”
The figure danced in the air above her.
“Oh! We’re going to have so much fun! I can’t wait! So let me tell you a secret…”
The figure came in real close to her face, and she could see that it was indeed a humanoid. She just couldn’t see it before because it was glowing so strongly. It whispered in her ear and the sound created a tingling sensation all down her body.
“When you are my mistress, people will want to get close to you. That’s what happened to my old master. They can’t help it! But every time they experience that sublime joy around you, your powers get stronger. So… don’t hold back! Give it all you’ve got!”
Sublime joy. The old world word that meant sex. Specifically, sex magic.
Like a flash, the figure darted to the side of the glass and stared out.
“Look, here they come now. Remember, the more you make them happy, the stronger you become!”
In a haze, cloudberry heard the tiefling’s voice as though from very far away. She vaguely felt hands touch her. She felt the orc’s hard cock rub against her. Slowly but surely, she regained the use of her body. Until eventually… she woke up.
“So nice of you to join us my dear, now who might you be?”
She came back to reality with a start.
“Mmfh.”
“Oh, indeed. Enora dear, get your cock out her mouth for just two seconds, will you sweetie?”
After a moment of hesitation, Enora pulled her dick away, which came out of Cloudberry’s mouth with a satisfying sucking noise and left a trail of saliva from mouth to penis.
The elf girl sat up, panting. She mustered up all her courage.
“M-my name is Cloudberry, I am a member of the royal elven mages guild, and- wait, why are my boobs so heavy!?”
Khargosh grinned but said nothing, watching her try to fit her breasts in her hands with wonder.
“No time for that darling… Cloudberry, was it?” The tiefling leaned forward in their chair and ran a red pointed nail down her cheek. “We have much more interesting things to discuss. For example -”
They held up the Joy of Just-Ice on its chain with a gloved hand, careful not to touch the surface with their bare skin. Newly freed from the freshly melted ice, it glistened with moisture and refracted light.
“Tell me everything you know about this artefact. Quickly, or the drow queen’s personal assassin…” She gestured to Enora, who stood panting and glaring at Cloudberry, her cock dripping with frothy spit. “…may have to torture you with a little more… intensity.”
Cloudberry paled. The head assassin herself? Here!?
“No! You can’t do this! I am a member of the guild of mages, I-”
The tiefling’s crimson tail whipped out and slapped her hard across the face, snapping her head to the side.
“Let me make one thing crystal clear, little frostling. I can do whatever I want.”
They stood up from the throne to her full height, hooves firmly on the ground and long, black hair flowing behind her. They towered over the kneeling, half-translucent elf girl.
“I am Lintuhäkki Helvetti, I catch all my prey. Little birds like you don’t stand a chance against me.”
Cloudberry was silent. She knew this name. It was the most feared name across the entire kingdom. A sorcerer who had gone rogue from the mage’s guild, a rogue, a murderer, a collector of ancient artefacts who sold them to the highest bidder. Why were they working with the dark elves?
She didn’t have a chance to finish this thought, as a strong hand grabbed her chin and turned her upwards. Long, scarlet nails dug into her skin. She felt hot breath on her face as the tiefling’s smiling lips brushed against her own.
“But you may call me Lin.”
THE END…?
HOW CAN OUR INTREPID HEROINE POSSIBLY SURVIVE THE TORTURE INFLICTED BY A ROGUE MAGE AND HER HORNY FRIEND? AND WILL KHARGOSH EVER WIPE THAT SMILE OFF HIS FACE? FIND OUT IN PART THREE FOLKS!