Pairings in Thread:
  • Man + Woman
  • Woman + Woman
  • Group
  • Menage
  • Bodily Fluids
Other Kinks:
World of Warcraft, Forsaken/Blood Elf couple, objectification, sheaths, transmutation, ewwwww!

This is an entry for the October Story Challenge. Please consider submitting an entry of your own!

They said she took herself too seriously. They told her to lighten up, to laugh once in awhile. They told her to smile and say happy things and be full of joy and vibrance. They didn’t know her. They didn’t know her at all!

Kripuscula moved carefully into her master’s lair. The bastard wizard was always out somewhere, so she had little fear of discovering him once she broke in. The cavernous castle was empty, for the most part. Krip didn’t doubt there would be traps and other ‘things’ meant to keep lurkers and intruders from discovering the wizard’s secrets.

But Kripuscula was ready for them. Ready and willing and able! Each trap she encountered, she disarmed. Each trick of the light she figured out and surpassed. Each lock, each barrier, each obstacle, the Forsaken witch foiled. This was why they told her she ought to have joined the Deathstalkers. Krip had other plans!

Moving through the shadows stealthily, the undead woman stopped to watch an ethereal and smoky wraith moving on a sort of patrol, like a guard. She kept in mind where it stopped, how long it stayed still, and when it started again. Turning a distant corner, the wraith disappeared out of sight for several moments. Kripuscula’s patience was tested as she waited…and waited…and waited.

The wraith appeared once more, pausing in the intersection of the hall it had come from, and the hall Krip was in. Was it sensing her? Did it know she was there? And would it signal someone magically, triggering alarms she couldn’t disarm, no matter how good she was? Could she escape before she was found out, before the master came-

The wraith moved on, wispy and transparent as it moved out of Krip’s sight. She waited and waited and waited some more. It came back, repeated its path, and disappeared, making it clear Krip would have all the time she needed to get in, and hopefully get out, of her master’s secret study.

The door in the wall was barely there at all. The moulding on the upper and lower parts of the dark grey walls barely had a seam in them, but Kripuscula knew it was there. She’d watched subtly in the past when her teacher and master had entered into this secret little hideaway of his. Seeing him hoarding such secrets only made Krip adore him all the more. And she hated herself for it! Love was for the living, not the undead! Besides, her master abhorred passionate emotions as much as she did. He had eyes only for science…

Well, thought Krip, that is if one could say the undead wizard had eyes at all. They had long ago rotted out of his skull, possibly even before he was resurrected. All he had now were glowing sockets of magickal green light, hinting at the wicked and intelligent spirit within his old bones.

Grateful she had a penchant for wearing pants instead of skirts or robes like other casters, Kripuscula moved towards the door. Her own eyes, quite intact though somewhat decomposed, remained on the hallway ahead. The wraith wasn’t due for another several minutes, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

I am shadow, she reminded herself, mentally performing the checklist she always set up when she was sneaking around.

I am darkness! I am the quiet! I am silence in motion!

The door barely creaked as she slid it open. The bastard wizard didn’t even bother keeping it locked! He was that sure it was so perfectly hidden.

Dumbass, she thought bitterly. If only she could tell him he needed to improve his security. But the undead man would hear nothing of the sort from Krip or anyone else. He was arrogant, and more than a little mad about his privacy. If he thought for one moment that Kripuscula or anyone else had looked that deeply into his life and his home, he’d probably raze the place to the ground with magefire!

The room was dark. Krip carefully slid the door closed behind her, her bony fingers feeling how the other side of the door, the side that faced into the secret room, was disguised by a book shelf. Anyone in the room would have a hard time seeing the exit without knowing where to look.

Interesting, Krip thought as she waited quietly by the door. Why would the old man want to keep someone ‘in’ the room? What sort of room was this anyway?

For several moments, the undead woman didn’t move. She waited instead, calming her breathing and bracing herself to respond to any traps she may have triggered. If the wizard hadn’t locked the room’s door, she knew he probably hadn’t trapped the interior either. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry.

When nothing had happened, Krip reached into her vest and pulled out a floating wisp. It sprang to life immediately and floated about three and a half feet from the floor. Tied to Krip by magick and spellcrafting, the poor bluish globe the size of the woman’s fist would stay within her aura always, trying to keep ahead of her obediently, to light her way.

Kripuscula looked around the room. Was it really just a library? The walls were lined ceiling-high with books on shelves. There was a lot of dust settled on every binding Krip could see. Obviously the master didn’t do a lot of reading when he was in here. So…what did he do here? What exactly was this room for?

Then, Krip sniffed with the fleshless slits of her nose. The air was moving, there was a current through here. But where did it go…and where did it come from?

With snail’s pace slowness, Krip lifted her nose up and tried to follow the scent that wafted from somewhere in the room. It was a perfumed scent, she could smell flowers. Was that rose scent? And sweat, salty mortal sweat! Ick!

Incredibly curious as to what secrets she might discover, the undead woman moved across the room. It was circular in fashion, and not all that wide. There was a single table and chair, and a burnt candle stump in an antique chamberstick. It had been lit, and recently too. Krip reached out a thin clawed finger and touched at the wax that had built up the last time the candle was used.

So the master had been here, and not that long ago. That could be both good and bad for his student, Krip knew. It might mean he wouldn’t return for some time. But it might mean he’d be back sooner rather than later, too!

Better to find the purpose and cause of that stench, she thought as she sniffed higher in the air once more.

There! Caught it!

Like a bloodhound, Krip was on the trail of the perfume. It was definitely feminine in nature but given that the master was known to take in Blood Elves as students too, Krip knew that didn’t mean it was a woman wearing the perfume. Those elves were all flutey and flaunty and frollicky. Kripuscula found them very annoying, male or female!

And then it hit her. For a moment, she stood very still, despite how the scent called to her temptingly. Her mind was racing instead, and if she could have blinked, she would have. But Krip had no eyelids to speak of.

This room,
she thought, squinting slightly so that the skin on her high cheekbones stretched and almost creaked with the effort.

This room…it’s…right across from the laboratory. And that means it’s between the laboratory and…

She gasped unexpectedly as she started to realize what the master might be doing with this room. Now she knew, Kripuscula thought, stunned and amazed all at once. Now she knew what the old pervert was doing with this secret little room. And now she knew what to look for.

Krip’s hand flicked out and covered the cowering blue orb, tucking it away once more in her vest’s inner pocket. Now that the room was dark, she peered with new eyes around the bookshelves. Somewhere nearby, there had to be…There would be…There!

She moved confidently forward towards one part of the rounded shelving. And lo and behold, she saw what she was looking for. Two books were slightly more separated from each other than the rest, which were quite tightly packed. No doubt this room doubled as storage for the master, his collection of reading material having already taken over his bedroom and his true and less private study. But these two books were just enough apart, and intentionally so, that they deserved more inspection. Closer inspection!

Kripuscula pressed one finger into the middle of the books. They were loose! Unlike the other books that would no doubt topple out at once if an ignoramus tried to simply pull one free of the rest, these books were less chummy. Less compacted together. And what would she reveal if she pulled them apart? She didn’t have to wonder.

Tugging on the two books soon revealed that they were hollow. They had no pages between their bindings. And what they were protecting on the shelf was obvious now. Soft light came into the room through the teeniest and tiniest little peephole!

That deviant wizard was spying on students!

And what student could he possibly have settled into this exact room? Krip was almost sick to her stomach, already knowing the answer before pressing her eye closer towards the peephole. She couldn’t get too close, the shelf itself was in the way. But there, beyond the hole, was the room of a Blood Elf mage. One Kripuscula knew well!

Moving around in the room, oblivious to being observed, Amorandra Autumnfeather hummed quietly as she tidied. Krip watched as the other mage student plucked up this or that piece of clothing and tucked it away into her wardrobe.

Amorandra. Hmph. What kind of name was that anyway? It was like someone had randomly just generated it! Did it even mean anything? It couldn’t possibly be traditional. And why Autumnfeather? Did she turn brown and wither when the seasons changed?

Oh if only, Kripuscula thought, sighing without any breathe in her useless lungs.

She hated Amorandra. Hate hate hated the girl! Amorandra Autumnfeather, beautiful and beguiling and perfectly living! Blonde hair down to her pert little ass, stunning ivory skin that looked as if she had never seen the sun. And those green almond eyes of hers, gah! It was like looking into emerald pools. Who would like that? What would possibly make someone fall in love with that?

Obviously, the Blood Elf’s charms had not been lost on Krip’s master. He was the one in charge of room assignments each semester. He was the one that said yay or nay to anyone attending his private manor as a full time live-in student. And he had the right to put his pupils anywhere he chose.

The undead mage had chosen to put Amorandra Autumnfeather here. Where he could see her. Where he could spy on her!


Kripuscula pulled back, glaring at the peephole menacingly. She ought to put black ink around it, see how that made the old pervert feel next time he passed a mirror and saw the circle on his skullish face! She could plug it up with mortar too, the sort that would not easily come free. Or she could glue the books together!

The books. Hm.

Krip looked down at the table, where she had placed the hollow books that had no pages. No, no pages. But they did have a perfect shape to store something in. And what sort of ‘things’ would the master have stored between the hard covers?

The undead mage woman plucked up a book and flipped it open. Did it hold money or jewels? No. Did it have a secret map to a hidden treasure? No. Did it at least hold a weapon, in case one was discovered accidentally while spying on young and innocent Blood Elf bitch-witches? Nope, not even that.

Inside the book, Kripuscula found the most horrifying evidence ever of her master’s lust for the sweet young ‘thing’ on the other side of the wall. Photos!

Krip pulled them out, drawing out her orb to illuminate them better. They were disgusting! They showed Amorandra in all sorts of states of undress. Oh and here were some of her laying on her bed, hand between her creamy slender thighs! Great! The perv watched her masturbate!

Huffing softly, Krip examined each and every image. The master must have paid a pretty penny to get his hands on a goblin-made photographic device that didn’t require a big and bright flash bulb. How long had he been spying on his students? How long had he been taking their pictures?

And why wasn’t Kripuscula in them??


But Krip knew the old man. She knew him very well. There was no way he would simply stop at taking pictures. He was like a dog with a bone! When he picked up on a theory or had the thread of a formula, he was relentless until he had all of it. Had everything he could of it.

She began to piece together the puzzle.

The master had a secret room that likely nobody knew about. Except Krip now, of course. He had this room set next to one of the choice dormitory rooms. And he had put a very tasty morsel of living and mortal flesh into the room, presumably so he could spy on her and take dirty pictures of her. No doubt somewhere on the floor, Krip would see evidence of his…pleasure. He could have cleaned it up, but even then she’d know it was there. Krip made a face and wondered if her shoes were going to stick the next time she lifted a foot!

He had a room. And he had a prize to stare at. And he took pictures. What came next? Krip looked over at the hidden door she had entered. Why hide the door?

Because if someone was in this room, found themselves in this room, he didn’t want them to know it exited into the hallway.

And if they were in this room, were they there of their own accord?

If so, how did they enter it, if not using the hallway entry…

Smirking wryly, Krip began to feel along the shelves on either side of the peephole. The room beyond wasn’t all that big but there was enough room for what she was searching. And then her seeking fingertips found it. The seams to a matching exit door that would no doubt lead into the room of one Amorandra Autumnfeather!

Oh you devil, you! The old man was totally and completely objectifying his most prominent student, and she had no idea. He was treating her special to her face, making her think – incorrectly – that she was succeeding at magick and spellcrafting, when in fact in secrecy and shadow, the old buzzard saw the Blood Elf cunt as an object to be degraded, stared at while he pulled his rotten old Peter behind the shelves!

Krip looked through the peephole. Amorandra was straightening up the sheets and blankets on her four poster bed. As the undead and invisible mage watched, the Blood Elf bitch turned on her heel and exited the room. Now was Kripuscula’s moment!

The undead mage pushed on the seams she had found. Her orb fought to get between her and the shelf door as she slid it out of the way and into the room beyond. There, success! The orb almost darted out of reach but Krip grabbed the wayward light and tucked it away again. The elf had a nice room, one with a window, and there was still enough light left in the day for something to be coming in through the lacey white curtains adoring it.

Krip looked around, a snarl of revulsion on her lipless mouth. Why her? Why a fucking Blood Elf? Why not someone of his own race and species and intelligence and …and why fucking Amorandra Autumnfeather?!?!

The answer was clear. It was in the scent the girl left in a room, any room, even after she had departed. Roses and flowering things and the outdoors. The best of the outdoors though, not the smell of dog feces and decaying corpse parts sticking out of soil.

It was in the look of the place. The elf had decorated the room to her liking, placing pink sheer material around each of the tall posters that made up the corners of her high bed. It was a young woman’s room, the room of a girl turning into a mature female, of a creature blooming to maturity.

Krip turned and looked at the side of the door she had come through. It had closed of its own accord once she had passed through, but she could see where it was hidden behind a book shelf – a book shelf noticeably devoid of any actual books of course. Elves!

There it was. The peephole, hidden in a happy little painting that the master himself had painted and no doubt given as a gift to his precious little student and pet. Krip was tempted to spit on it, but the roguish nature she bore forbid leaving evidence of her intrusive visit.

She never got paintings. Not that she wanted one of this sort, with its imitation Sunwell and golden arches and statues and blue flowing river. Krip would want one with earthy dark green, like the composting of leaves left to decay beneath the snow all winter long. Not this offal, this happy fluffy shit.

Bah, she thought, making no sound as she moved towards the girl’s bedside table. There was a single drawer there, and with a natural and hard-to-ignore curiosity, Krip pulled it open. Inside were things. Pretty things, like a brush made of fine white horse hair and pewter embellishments. There was a hair comb adorned with pearls, the sort that actually matched in size and shape. Of course Amorandra Autumnfeather would not have river pearls, or something that was anything but perfect.

There was also a box inside the drawer. It looked specially made, carved. Kripuscula recognized the style as the master’s. He’d made this for his prize student? She had to see what was inside!

Krip turned the box over. There was an inscription, ‘use with discretion and care’, on the box’s underside. When she turned it back over, her fingertip felt along the seamed edge to find the tiny latch that would open the box. And when it flipped open, she saw-

Suddenly she could hear and smell Amorandra returning to the room! The girl would be there any moment! And the door had closed! She didn’t dare try to open it, there wasn’t time!

Thinking quickly, Kripuscula stuck her clawed and bony hand into the box and chanted the words to a fairly basic transmutation spell. If there were jewels on a table, she could become an additional jewel. If there were books on a shelf, she could imitate a single volume identically. And whatever was in the box, Krip was now one of them. Her abilities were so great that she had changed size and shape and consistency altogether. She could undo the spell at any time, but really there wouldn’t be time for the next short while. Because Amorandra had returned. And she wasn’t alone!

“Hurry, Inaesh! I don’t want anyone to see you coming into my room this late in the day!!”

Inaesh? No! He was…he was Kripuscula’s friend! Comrade in arms when they secretly practiced dagger throwing and grappling with each other. And she almost…almost had a crush on him!

Inaesh Bloodblossom. Inwardly Krip groaned. Seriously? She was about to have to listen to these two making out? Her unbeating heart sank, at least spiritually. Whatever she had transmuted herself to become obviously didn’t have a heart that beat any more than Krip did in true form. But the thought was there!

“It’s fine, no one has seen us, beloved. Now come to me, my loins are on fire for you!”

Amorandra giggled and Krip heard what was no doubt the sound of the two elves bouncing onto the bed. There were sloppy kissing sounds. There was the tearing and rending of clothing, and Amorandra giggling senselessly all the while. Gah, what Krip wouldn’t give to be able to stab into the girl and tear her open! Watch her bleed and leak out on those pretty pink and white blankets of hers!

“Hm, I don’t remember leaving this box open…” the Blood Elf bitch said quietly.

“Just get one. I am ever so ready for this! It’s been such a very long day…”

There was a small moment of silence, then Kripuscula could feel that someone was rifling around in her hiding place in the box.

Don’t notice me, don’t notice me! The undead mage would have closed her eyes, or attempted to, if she were herself. She would have cringed away from that pale hand reaching for her. But it was not meant to be.

“Here,” Amorandra said, “let me…”

“Mmm I love it when you’re naughty!”

As Kripuscula was lifted and pulled into the air, she smelled Amorandra’s breath before she ever saw the approach of those ruby red stained lips. They were moist, and she knew this because the elf cunt put whatever Krip was up to her mouth and tore ‘something’ away. How successful had the magick been? It was meant to keep her from harm. If something tore away, was it merely illusion or a part of her very being?

Giggling, Amorandra began to lower the shrunken Krip down, down, down. Kripuscula’s sightless gaze couldn’t help but see the rising erection that was Inaesh’s thick and throbbing dick lifting up to meet her. And then it struck her, hard and fast, like the fist of an angry god!

Nooooo! she cried out, but of course was unheard.

Amorandra stuck the ‘condom’ onto the tip of her lover’s penis, then slowly slid it downwards until Krip was wrapped around the entirety of Inaesh’s thick meat. She could feel his heat, feel the throb of his blood beneath his skin. She could feel the pulsating pressure of his veins trying to engorge him all the more.

The Blood Elf that Krip now held responsible for all her troubles and those yet to come lowered her mouth over her fellow student, using her lips to press the condom into place, until Krip was pushed all the way to the base of Inaesh’s dick. She would have groaned, she would have screamed but none of it would do any good to think about! No, she was going to have to endure this.

But maybe it was just a blowjob, right? Girls like Amorandra Autumnfeather, they surely kept their maidenhead for marriage. Didn’t they?

Amorandra’s mouth moved up and down over the sheath that was Kripuscula. She shuddered spiritually as the girl fellated her lover. Inaesh put a hand in the blood elf woman’s hair, tugging her off suddenly.

“No!” he said commandingly.

Thank the gods! Krip sobbed silently.

“I want to stab you! To tear you open and see you leak!”

Hadn’t the undead and feeling-ever-so-Forsaken-just-now mage thought the same thing but moments ago?

The couple turned around so that Amorandra was on hands and knees and Inaesh was behind her.

“I want you,” he said, practically drooling as he dragged his Krip-coated cock over Amorandra’s dripping slit of a pussy.

I can do it, I can do it, I’m capable of anything, I should have been a rogue! Fuck if I survive this, screw the master, I WILL become a rogue! Oh gods, please spare me this indignation, I will be the best rogue you have ever seen or that ever lived!

“I want your ass!”