The Witch and the Elf (3)
As Cloud watched her retreating figure, the pain in his chest flared up all over again. A terrible thirst was choking the breath out of him.
"Kgh—!"
Water. He needed water, and he needed it now, to drown the fire scorching him from the inside.
Clutching his chest, he turned his gaze to the elf lying nearby. She was in no better shape than he was. Her skin had flushed a deep, feverish red—whether the Lactation Bug's bite had already sent her into heat—and when he hurried over and laid a hand on her, she was hot as a stove.
"What's your name?"
"E-Elena S-Sairalin..."
The answer came in a voice as clear as a water droplet, trembling all the while. Her body seemed to beg Cloud to gather her into his arms that very instant. Her heart wanted nothing of the sort.
"Hah, hah... d-don't c-come any closer...!"
She resisted with the last scrap of strength her voice could muster, but her fevered body told the opposite story—practically pleading for his touch. She even slipped her own hand beneath her skirt, on the verge of taking care of the ache herself.
"D-don't look...!"
Cloud spoke gravely, fighting down the agony in his chest.
"Listen, Elena. If we don't help each other, we both die. You need to be drained, and I'm so thirsty right now that I—kgh!—I can barely breathe, I'm burning up from the inside. So let's throw pride and shame out the window and work together to stay alive. Deal?"
"N-no, don't touch me...!"
"So you'd rather die like this?"
"I-I'm going to die anyway."
Desperation curdled into temper. He decided that human courtesy and morality could go to hell—not for a member of a race he'd laid eyes on for the first time today.
"Well, I refuse to die!"
Without further ado, Cloud began undoing the front of her dress. Elena fought him with everything she had, but there was no strength left in her fingers—and worse, her burning body ached for a man's hands.
"Hold still, Elena!"
"I won't! I won't!"
She knew better than anyone what would happen the moment her flesh mingled with a man's—that she would sink into a pleasure she could never refuse.
"You're my spoils of war anyway! The Witch left you to me!"
Pinning Elena's flailing arms and pressing her down with his knees, he straddled her stomach. Trapped beneath him, she writhed from side to side.
"Bad human! Human, you're bad!"
"I hear that a lot. Feel free to call me Handsome Cloud while you're at it."
When he peeled her tunic away, a breast band worn in place of underclothes came into view. Impatience got the better of him; he tore the bindings off with his teeth.
"Hnngh...!"
What greeted him once the bandages came away was a perfectly ordinary, prettily proportioned chest—neither large nor small. And there, pink and standing stiffly erect with her heat, were nipples that looked every bit as proud as a noble High Elf ought to be.
"N-no! Human, stop! Stop!"
She screamed herself hoarse, but it changed nothing. Cloud had his own desperation—the sheer will to survive—and a duty besides: the milk had to be drawn out, or Elena would die. So drink he would, and freely, of what these breasts produced without end.
"Don't look! Don't look!"
As she thrashed, her chest swayed, and a single bead of milk welled up at the tip.
"Ah...!"
The moment it escaped her, Elena let out a moan she couldn't suppress. Even that one drop seemed to set her body alight; she rubbed her thighs together, quite unable to bear it. And then—piling injury upon injury—Cloud's lips darted in and fastened onto her breast.
"Gulp! Gulp! Gulp!"
"Haahng...!"
Elena shuddered as pleasure surged from deep within her chest. It was the moment the desire she had barely held in check broke its seal and the switch flipped. She wrapped both arms around his head and surrendered her breasts to him entirely.
"More—suck more!"
"Schlup, shluuuurp! Gulp, gulp!"
Elena's breasts were a milk tank. The milk poured out without pause; however full Cloud drank himself, it gushed up endlessly, an inexhaustible spring.
"Aaahh...! Aahng...!"
"Gulp! Gulp!"
"Drink more...! More!"
Apparently, being suckled felt good. Elena squirmed beneath him without rest, and Cloud drank, and drank, and drank. By the time his thirst was finally slaked, her milk had run dry as well. And so the two of them managed to survive.
"Good grief, I thought I was done for! That was rough!"
Belly swollen taut as a drum, Cloud sprawled flat on his back across the floor. Elena lay down beside him, and for a while they simply breathed.
"Ugh, I'm stuffed to bursting... That's the most milk I've ever drunk in my life. Feels like I've had a lifetime's worth in one sitting. Hah... hah..."
He lay there quietly kneading his bloated stomach—until Elena, beside him, suddenly pounced on top of him.
"What's gotten into you?"
"Mmm, aahng~."
The elf was nuzzling up against the human, coquettish as a cat. It was frightening. Elena's eyes were still glazed with lust. He had drained her milk to the very last drop, and yet the desire hadn't ebbed—it had only sunk its hooks in deeper. It wasn't over. The Lactation Bug's venom had been neutralized, but the hunger it left behind remained.
Ears flattened back, she ran her palm over the front of his trousers.
"It's hard... yours, Cloud."
Her boldness flustered Cloud, but he let her have her way—there was nothing else for it. The curse's aftereffects had to be seen through to the end. So he lay still. He'd guzzled enough milk to float a boat; his stomach was too full to want to do anything at all. And lying perfectly still, he found that Elena did all the work herself.
She stripped off his trousers, undid her own belt, and let skirt and underthings slip away; then she climbed astride him, took him in hand, and pressed herself against him with a soft, wanting sigh.
"You're good at this."
Cloud, arms folded behind his head, smiled lazily. But Elena shook her head.
"It's my first time."
"Your first time doing this?"
"Mm."
With that answer, she sank down onto him in a single motion. The instant she'd taken all of him, her face twisted along with it.
"It hurts!"
Blood trickled from between her thighs. Meanwhile, Cloud trembled at a pleasure unlike anything he had ever known.
"Ngh... wh-what is this? Why—why is it so tight?"
He couldn't hide his shock. She gripped him with a living, pulling strength, as though her whole body meant to drink him in. Just as the Witch had said, an elf was a marvel beyond reckoning. And once Elena began to move her hips, it grew worse still. No one would ever have guessed this was her first time—the roll of her waist, the way she drew him in and let him go, the grip and the feel of it, sheer artistry. Before long, Cloud was floating in bliss.
When it was over, he murmured in a languid daze:
"Thank you, Lady Witch. That was a fine meal indeed. I won't forget this kindness for the rest of my life."
Now came the time for goodbyes. Her milk fully drained and the last of her lust spent to the dregs, Elena had come back to her senses. She sat huddled in a corner without a word, head sunk low. Despair and emptiness would be crashing over her all at once—her crumpled High Elf pride, the self-blame of one whose purity had been taken by another race. Her mind must have been a storm.
What choice would Elena make? Would she take her own life, precisely as the Witch intended?
Cloud gathered up the clothes he'd shed and dressed, then gave her one last look before leaving. He studied her for a long moment, then opened his mouth.
"Life's meant to be enjoyed, so what's the point of guarding pride, honor, purity—all that rubbish? They're just props people use to posture at one another. The world, you know, has far too much to see and far too much to enjoy to go dying early. I intend to survive, whatever it takes, until I've seen every last bit of it."
With the waterfall ringing out crisp and clear behind him, he went on, smiling.
"If your people cast you out and you've nowhere left to go, come find me. I won't make much of a pillar to lean on, but I'll try. We'll earn our fortune together and see the world while we're at it."
He didn't know why he'd said it. It was simply impulsive, like everything else he did. And he had no wish to hear her answer then and there. If she ever stood before him again someday, that would be the answer.
With those parting words, he left Elena alone and walked away.
BANG!
Cloud kicked the inn door open and strode inside. Every soul eating within turned to stare at him at once.
"Sophia! Sophia!"
With Cecile slung across his back, Cloud hurried about searching for Sophia, and she emerged from the kitchen wearing a thoroughly baffled expression.
"Cloud, what's wrong? What happened? Oh my—Cecile!"
The sight of the girl on his back startled her badly.
"Cecile's sick! Quick, show me to a room so I can lay her down!"
"This way! Hurry!"
Sophia beckoned frantically and led him in through the kitchen. Carrying Cecile inside, Cloud spotted a door on the left; the moment Sophia opened it, he rushed through and gently laid Cecile down on the wide bed.
"What happened to my daughter? How did it come to this?"
"We met the Witch in the forest."