The bonfire roared on the private beach, flames leaping twenty feet high, sparks spiraling into a sky that suddenly wasn't their sky anymore.
It started with the log.
Lucas had dragged a massive piece of driftwood to the fire's edge for Elena and Sophia to lean against while he took turns fucking them under the stars.
Silk ropes still bound their wrists to the wood, ankles spread wide, bodies oiled and glistening.
He was buried deep in Sophia, hips snapping, Elena kissing her sister's neck and rubbing her clit, when the log began to glow.
Not orange like fire,
Blue.
Electric.
Alive.
A circle of runes carved themselves into the bark, ancient symbols none of them recognized, pulsing in time with Lucas's thrusts.
The flames turned the same impossible blue.
Then the world ripped open.
A vertical slash of light split the air above the fire, wide enough for three bodies.
Wind howled through it, carrying the scent of pine and ozone and something sweeter, like sex and starlight mixed.
Elena's eyes went wide.
"Lucas, don't stop," she gasped. "Whatever this is… finish inside her first."
He slammed home one last time and came, flooding Sophia with thick, endless ropes while the portal flared brighter.
The second his orgasm peaked, the suction hit.
All three of them were yanked forward, still joined, still tied, still cumming,
straight through the slash of blue light.
They landed hard on warm sand that sparkled like crushed diamonds.
The bonfire was gone.
The lake was gone.
Instead: twin moons hung low over an endless turquoise ocean.
Bioluminescent trees pulsed soft pink and violet.
The air tasted like honey.
And the driftwood log was still there, now floating upright in the shallows, runes glowing brighter than ever.
Elena and Sophia were still bound to it, legs spread, pussies dripping with Lucas's cum and their own juices, glowing faintly in the alien light.
Lucas stood between them, cock harder than ever, veins shimmering with the same blue runes that now crawled across all three of their bodies like living tattoos.
Sophia was the first to speak, voice trembling with awe and lust.
"We're… somewhere else."
Elena tested the ropes, found them loose now, but didn't untie herself.
"Then fuck us in this new world, baby," she whispered. "Mark us under alien moons. Make sure whatever sent us here knows we belong to you."
Lucas didn't need to be told twice.
He took Elena first, sliding into her glowing, rune-lit pussy while the warm waves lapped at their thighs.
The runes flared brighter with every thrust, sending electric pleasure straight to their spines.
Sophia watched, rubbing her clit frantically, until Lucas pulled out and filled her the same way, swapping back and forth while the ocean sang around them.
The second time he came, the runes exploded into light.
Orgasm hit all three at once,
Elena squirting in a glowing arc that lit up the sand like a comet,
Sophia screaming as her pussy milked him dry,
Lucas pumping so much cum into both of them that it spilled out in luminous streams, mixing with the bioluminescent waves.
When the light faded, the ropes were gone.
The log had become a smooth, crystalline altar floating in the shallows.
Words appeared in the air, written in liquid starlight:
**"Bond accepted. World claimed. Stay or return. Your choice."**
Elena looked at Sophia.
Sophia looked at Lucas.
Lucas looked at both of them, cock still hard, runes still pulsing.
Elena laughed, wild and free.
"Stay," she said.
Sophia echoed instantly: "Stay."
Lucas pulled them close, kissing them under the twin moons.
"Then this beach is ours forever," he growled. "And every night starts exactly like this."
They fucked on the crystal altar until the suns rose,
three bodies glowing,
two moons watching,
one new world learning exactly who it belonged to now.
They woke inside a palace that hadn't existed the night before.
The crystal altar had become the heart of an enormous treehouse grown overnight from the bioluminescent trees themselves.
Living branches curved into vaulted ceilings, leaves pulsing soft rose-gold.
The bed was a vast, breathing mattress of moon-white silk that rippled like water beneath them.
And the vines…
Thousands of thin, glowing vines hung from the canopy, each one tipped with a soft, velvet bud that leaked warm, honey-sweet nectar.
Elena opened her eyes first, found herself already straddling Lucas's hips, his morning cock buried to the root inside her.
Sophia was curled against his side, one leg thrown over his thigh, pussy pressed to his skin, leaving a wet streak.
The silk bed moved on its own, lifting Elena slightly, then lowering her again in a slow, perfect rhythm, fucking her onto Lucas without either of them moving.
Lucas groaned awake, hands instantly finding Elena's waist.
"Good morning, my queen," he rasped, voice still rough with sleep.
A vine curled down, brushed Elena's nipple, then sealed over it like a warm mouth.
Another did the same to her other breast.
Two more slipped between Sophia's thighs, one circling her clit, one sliding gently inside her alongside the slick mess Lucas had left hours ago.
Sophia's eyes flew open on a gasp.
"Oh fuck… they're alive…"
More vines descended.
One thick tendril wrapped gently around Lucas's balls, massaging, while another stroked the base of his cock where it disappeared into Elena.
The silk bed rippled harder, bouncing Elena now, tits jiggling, vines sucking her nipples in perfect pulsing pulls.
Sophia rolled onto her back, legs spread wide, letting three vines fill her, one in her pussy, two teasing her ass cheeks but never breaching, just gliding, slick and warm.
Elena leaned forward, braced her hands on Lucas's chest, and started riding him for real, meeting the bed's rhythm, taking him deeper than ever.
The vines adjusted instantly: one slipped between Elena and Lucas, curling around her clit like a living tongue; another slid into her mouth, sweet nectar flooding her tongue as she sucked it like a cock.
Lucas's hips snapped up to meet her, the vine around his balls tightening, stroking, milking.
The entire treehouse pulsed with them, leaves flashing brighter every time one of them moaned.
Sophia came first, back bowing off the silk, vines fucking her in perfect sync, squirting in glowing arcs that splattered Lucas's thigh and the living bed.
The silk drank it greedily, rippling harder, bouncing Elena faster.
Elena followed seconds later, screaming around the vine in her mouth, pussy clamping down so hard Lucas roared.
He thrust up one final time and erupted, flooding Elena with thick, endless ropes that overflowed instantly, running down his shaft, coating the vine still wrapped around his base.
The vines didn't stop.
They kept stroking, kept sucking, kept fucking them through the aftershocks until Sophia was cumming again and Elena was shaking apart on Lucas's cock for the third time.
Only then did the silk bed still, vines retreating slowly, leaving them trembling and dripping in the rose-gold light.
Elena collapsed forward onto Lucas's chest, Sophia curling against their sides.
The treehouse leaves dimmed to a gentle glow, as if satisfied.
A soft voice, neither male nor female, echoed through the branches:
**"Welcome home, bonded ones.
The realm feeds on your pleasure.
Give it more, and it will give you everything."**
Elena laughed, breathless, kissed Lucas slow and deep, then Sophia.
"Then we'll never stop," she whispered.
Lucas pulled them tighter, cock already hardening again inside Elena.
"Every morning," he promised, "we feed our kingdom."
Outside the open walls, the twin suns rose higher, painting their new world in colors that had no names back home.
Inside, mother, son, and aunt moved together again on living silk, glowing vines already descending for round two, ready to rule their paradise one endless orgasm at a time.
Deep beneath the palace tree, the roots had hollowed themselves into a cathedral-sized cavern.
A single glowing pool filled it, water the color of molten starlight, steam rising in slow spirals that smelled like vanilla and sex.
The pool was warm, weightless, and alive.
It knew what they wanted before they did.
Elena stepped in first, waist-deep, and the water lifted her instantly, cradling her on her back like a liquid bed.
Her huge tits floated just above the surface, nipples already glowing brighter, runes pulsing across her skin in time with her heartbeat.
Sophia followed, laughing as the pool flipped her onto her stomach, arms spread, legs parted, face turned so she could watch Lucas descend the crystal steps.
Lucas waded in last, cock jutting proud, eleven inches shimmering under the starlight water.
The moment he was submerged to the hips, the pool wrapped gentle tendrils of liquid around his shaft, stroking in perfect, slow pulls.
Elena floated to him first.
The water lifted her legs, hooked them over his shoulders, and pulled her pussy flush against his mouth.
Lucas drank her like wine, tongue spearing deep, nose buried in her clit.
The pool muffled her scream into a low, vibrating hum that rippled across the surface.
Sophia drifted over on her belly, water carrying her until her lips sealed around Lucas's cock beneath the surface.
She took him to the root in one smooth glide, throat opening, bubbles streaming from her nose as she held herself there.
The pool gave them breath when they needed it, stole it when they didn't, playing with their lungs like a lover plays with a clit.
Thirty seconds under.
Forty.
A full minute.
Sophia pulled off only when the water decided, gasping, glowing brighter, cum and nectar dripping from her lips.
Then it flipped her onto her back beside Elena, legs spread wide, pussies floating side-by-side like twin offerings.
Lucas moved between them.
He slid into Elena first, water cradling her ass, letting him thrust deeper than gravity ever allowed.
The pool pushed her onto him, pulled her back, fucked her on his cock in perfect weightless rhythm.
Ten strokes.
Then it slid her aside and impaled Sophia the same way.
Back and forth.
Elena.
Sophia.
Elena.
Sophia.
Every thrust sent glowing ripples across the pool, lighting the cavern in waves of violet and gold.
The water began to play dirtier.
A liquid tendril curled around Elena's throat, squeezing gently while Lucas pounded Sophia.
Another sealed over Sophia's mouth, controlling her air while he filled Elena.
They came like that: breathless, glowing, owned by the pool and by him.
Elena first, pussy clamping down so hard the water itself pulsed, squirting in a glowing fountain that lit the cavern like a supernova.
Sophia followed, muffled scream vibrating through the liquid gag, body arching out of the water as she squirted straight up, rainbows of light in the spray.
Lucas pulled them both close, water lifting them until they floated vertically against his chest, legs wrapped around him, pussies stacked one above the other.
He took them together: cock sliding into Elena, out, into Sophia, out, into Elena, a perfect rhythm while the pool held them weightless and open.
When he came, the water caught every drop, swirled it into glowing spirals, then pushed it back inside them in warm, pulsing waves, filling them over and over until they overflowed and the pool itself glowed white-hot.
They floated there for hours, tangled, breathless, glowing brighter than the moons outside.
Eventually the water gently deposited them on a crystal ledge at the pool's edge, still joined, still trembling.
Elena kissed Lucas slow and deep, tasting starlight on his tongue.
Sophia nipped his ear, voice husky.
"Every night," she whispered, "we come here and let the pool fuck us with you."
Lucas pulled them tighter, cock already hard again inside Elena.
"Then we never leave," he growled.
Above them, the great tree's roots pulsed in perfect sync with their heartbeats, drinking in their pleasure, growing stronger, brighter, forever.
The palace tree had grown a new heart overnight: a vast, open-air throne room beneath the twin moons.
Living wood arched into a cathedral dome, every branch tipped with silver leaves that chimed like crystal bells.
At the center rose three thrones, grown from the same glowing root.
Elena and Sophia were already seated when Lucas stepped through the vine curtain.
Their thrones were alive.
Soft, velvet vines coiled gently around their wrists, ankles, waists, keeping them spread and displayed.
Thicker tendrils moved between their thighs: one sliding slowly in and out of Elena's pussy, another circling Sophia's clit in perfect, pulsing rhythm.
Their nipples were crowned with tiny, sucking buds that glowed brighter every time they moaned.
Between the thrones stood a raised dais of moon-white marble.
That was for Lucas.
Hundreds of elf women filled the chamber: every single member of the Lúineth Clan, the ancient all-female moon-elf bloodline who had guarded this realm for millennia.
Tall, silver-haired, eyes like liquid starlight, bodies carved from moonlight and desire.
They wore nothing but delicate chains of living silver that draped over hips and breasts, leaving everything else bare.
They knelt in perfect silence as Lucas walked forward, cock already hard, runes blazing across his skin.
The clan's High Seer, a statuesque elf named Aeloria, rose from the front row.
Her voice rang like bells:
"By the ancient pact, the bonded triad claims the throne.
Let the realm witness its queens receive their king."
She gestured, and two vines descended from the canopy, wrapping lovingly around Lucas's shaft, stroking in slow, worshipful pulls while warm nectar dripped from their tips.
Elena and Sophia moaned in unison as their thrones responded, vines fucking them deeper, faster, matching the rhythm of the ones on Lucas.
A dozen elves rose and approached the dais.
They knelt in a circle around Lucas, silver hair cascading over bare shoulders, mouths open, tongues ready.
The first elf, Aeloria, took him first: lips sealing around the head while the vines kept stroking the shaft, her throat glowing faintly as she swallowed him to the root.
Another elf moved beneath, tongue lapping at his balls, then lower, teasing the sensitive skin behind while the vines never stopped.
They rotated in perfect choreography: one deep-throating, one licking, one kissing his thighs, one sucking the nectar from the vines themselves.
Above them, Elena and Sophia watched, thrones fucking them relentlessly, vines now filling both holes with gentle, pulsing pressure, keeping them on the edge of orgasm but never over.
Elena's voice cracked through the chamber:
"Make him cum for us, sisters. Paint your queens with our king's seed."
The elves obeyed.
Four mouths at once: two on his cock, one on each ball, one sliding beneath to rim him gently while the vines tightened and stroked faster.
Lucas roared, hips jerking.
The first rope shot across Aeloria's tongue, glowing like liquid starlight.
She pulled back, aimed the rest: thick, endless streams across Elena's tits, Sophia's belly, then back to the elves' upturned faces, painting silver hair, parted lips, glowing skin.
The thrones responded instantly.
Vines slammed deep into Elena and Sophia, buds sealing over their clits and sucking hard.
They came together, screaming, bodies arching off living wood, squirting in glowing arcs that rained over the kneeling elves like a coronation blessing.
Lucas stayed hard, runes blazing, vines still stroking.
Aeloria rose, cum dripping from her chin, and spoke to the entire clan:
"From this night forward, the Lúineth serve the triad.
Our bodies, our magic, our eternal pleasure, yours to command."
Every elf bowed, then rose, chains chiming, eyes hungry.
Elena beckoned with one vine-wrapped wrist.
"Then start now," she commanded, voice husky. "Worship your king while he fills his queens again."
The throne room erupted into a symphony of moans, glowing seed, and living vines as the all-female clan descended on their new rulers, mouths and hands and bodies joining the eternal bond under twin moons that would never set.
The sacred grove bloomed only once every hundred years.
Tonight it opened for them.
A perfect circle of ancient white trees, petals falling like liquid starlight.
At the center: a raised altar of living crystal that pulsed with the realm's heartbeat.
Elena and Sophia were already on it, reclining side-by-side, legs spread wide, glowing vines cradling their hips.
The entire Lúineth Clan formed a ring around them (two hundred silver-haired moon-elves, naked, bellies already gently rounded with the first faint glow of Lucas's seed from the past weeks).
Lucas stood between his queens' thighs, cock blazing with runes, eleven inches dripping nectar that made the crystal beneath him hum.
He entered Elena first, slow and reverent, bottoming out while the grove itself sighed.
Ten strokes.
Then Sophia.
Ten strokes.
Back and forth, while the elves chanted in a language older than moons.
Every time he filled one queen, vines lifted the other so the clan could drink from her overflowing pussy (tongues lapping glowing cum and nectar straight from the source).
The ritual was halfway to completion when the shadows moved.
Black portals ripped open between the trees.
Dark-elves poured through (tall, obsidian-skinned, crimson eyes, hair like spilled blood).
The rival Daelith Clan, exiled centuries ago for trying to corrupt the realm's pleasure magic into pain.
Their leader, Vyrneth, stepped forward, whip-thin and lethal, wearing nothing but black crystal chains that barely covered her nipples and slit.
She smiled with too many teeth.
"The triad is incomplete," she hissed. "Moonlight alone cannot rule.
We claim the king tonight."
Before anyone could react, black vines shot from the portals (living shadow, tipped with cruel barbs).
They wrapped the moon-elves' wrists, forced them to their knees.
Vyrneth strode straight to the altar, dark hand closing around Lucas's still-buried cock.
Elena and Sophia snarled in unison.
Lucas met Vyrneth's crimson eyes.
"You want to play?" he growled. "Then play."
He pulled out of Sophia, spun Vyrneth, and slammed into her in one brutal thrust.
The dark-elf queen screamed (half rage, half ecstasy) as the crystal altar flared white-hot beneath them.
Black and white vines clashed, then merged, turning silver.
Vyrneth's eyes rolled back.
"Harder," she demanded, voice cracking. "Break me or bow to me."
Lucas gave her harder.
He fucked her against the altar while Elena and Sophia watched, fingers buried in each other's pussies, runes blazing brighter than ever.
The merged vines freed the moon-elves and began binding the dark-elves instead (wrists to ankles, mouths open, bodies offered).
Aeloria, the moon-elf High Seer, stepped forward, silver cum still dripping from her chin.
"Yield," she commanded the dark-elves, "and share the pleasure.
Fight, and be broken."
Vyrneth came first, violently, black pussy squirting glowing silver across the crystal as Lucas flooded her with the same seed that had already claimed two queens.
The moment his cum hit her womb, her crimson eyes flashed silver.
She dropped to her knees, forehead to the altar.
"We yield," she gasped. "Take us. All of us."
Lucas pulled out, turned, and slid back into Elena, then Sophia, then Vyrneth again (claiming all three queens in front of both clans).
The grove exploded into light.
Every elf (moon and dark) was freed, then bound again by silver vines that fucked them gently, perfectly, while they watched their new king cycle between the three queens on the altar.
When Lucas finally came a third time, he pulled out and painted all three faces in thick, glowing ropes that connected them like crowns.
The clans knelt as one.
Elena, Sophia, and now Vyrneth rose together, cum dripping from their chins, and spoke with one voice:
"This realm has three queens.
One king.
Two clans.
One rule: pleasure forever."
The grove sealed shut above them, petals raining silver and black.
The throne room had grown again overnight.
Three thrones had fused into one massive living seat: moon-white crystal on the left, obsidian on the right, pure starlight silver in the center where the three met.
Elena sat on the left, legs draped over the arm, pussy glowing silver.
Sophia on the right, same pose, dark thighs spread wide.
Vyrneth in the center, crimson eyes blazing, black skin shimmering with fresh runes that now matched the triad's.
Lucas stood before them, naked, cock dripping glowing nectar that sizzled where it hit the floor.
Behind the throne, two hundred moon-elves and two hundred dark-elves knelt in perfect alternating rows (silver hair, blood-red hair, silver hair, blood-red), like living chess pieces waiting for the king's command.
Silver and black vines rose from the floor, weaving a lattice above the triad.
The moment Lucas stepped onto the dais, the vines snapped into motion.
They lifted Elena, Sophia, and Vyrneth simultaneously, suspending them in mid-air, legs spread, pussies aligned in a perfect vertical line.
Elena on top.
Vyrneth in the middle.
Sophia at the bottom.
Lucas's cock lined up with all three.
He thrust upward.
First into Elena (one slow, perfect stroke that made her scream and squirt glowing silver down Vyrneth's belly).
Then lower, into Vyrneth (black pussy swallowing him whole, runes flaring crimson-silver as she came instantly).
Then lower still, into Sophia (her dark thighs trembling as he filled her to the hilt).
Up.
Down.
Up.
Down.
Fucking all three queens in sequence while the vines held them suspended, bodies pressed together, tits rubbing, mouths kissing in a messy chain.
The clans watched, bound by silver-black vines that mirrored the triad's rhythm (every thrust Lucas gave the queens, the vines gave the elves).
Two hundred moon-elf mouths opened in perfect sync.
Two hundred dark-elf tongues extended.
The vines fed them: sliding into throats, pussies, wrapping clits, stroking cocks that didn't exist but still made them writhe as if they did.
Elena came first, squirting in a glowing waterfall that rained over Vyrneth's face, then Sophia's tits.
Vyrneth followed, black pussy gushing silver, the mixture running down to coat Sophia's clit.
Sophia shattered last, screaming into Vyrneth's mouth, squirting so hard the vines had to tighten to keep her from falling.
Lucas never stopped.
He pulled out of Sophia, fisted his slick cock once, and painted all three queens in thick, endless ropes (across faces, tits, bellies, pussies), until they were glazed and dripping like living statues.
The vines lowered them gently onto the fused throne, still tangled, still kissing, cum connecting them in glowing webs.
Then the real orgy began.
Moon-elves and dark-elves were paired by the vines (one silver, one obsidian), pressed breast-to-breast, mouth-to-pussy, feeding from the glowing seed that dripped from the queens above.
Every pair mirrored the triad: one licking, one being licked, vines fucking both in perfect rhythm.
Lucas walked through them, cock never softening, sliding into whichever mouth or pussy caught his eye (moon-elf throat, dark-elf cunt, moon-elf tits, dark-elf tongue), until every elf had tasted their king.
When he returned to the throne, the three queens pulled him down into their lap, legs spread wide, guiding him back inside them one after another while the clans watched and chanted:
"One king.
Three queens.
Four hundred servants.
One realm.
Forever."
He came a final time, buried in Vyrneth while Elena and Sophia rubbed their clits against his thighs, flooding her so full that the overflow rained down onto the kneeling elves below like a coronation blessing.
The vines released everyone at once.
Four hundred elves collapsed in a moaning, glowing heap, silver and black skin intertwined, mouths still seeking, bodies still trembling.
The fused throne pulsed once, then spoke in a voice that shook the roots of the world:
**"The realm is whole.
Pleasure is law.
The triad reigns eternal."**
Elena, Sophia, and Vyrneth pulled Lucas down into the center of the elf pile, four hundred hands reaching to touch, to taste, to worship.
The twin moons above shone brighter than ever, bathing their new empire in silver and shadow.
Seven days after the unification orgy, the three queens woke glowing.
Elena's belly had rounded into a perfect, firm dome, runes pulsing soft gold across her skin.
Sophia's the same, obsidian skin shimmering with silver light.
Vyrneth's midnight flesh now cradled a silver-black swell that made her crimson eyes glow brighter.
Their breasts had doubled overnight: Elena's 34J → 38M, Sophia's 36K → 40N, Vyrneth's already massive → impossible, veins glowing beneath the skin, nipples dark and leaking constantly.
The realm responded instantly.
The great tree lifted an entire island into the sky (a floating paradise of cloud-soft grass and crystal springs), suspended above the palace by living vines thick as redwoods.
Four hundred elves (moon and dark) were carried up on silver-black wings of light, naked, eyes wide with reverence.
At the island's center: a circular dais of warm moonstone, three throne-beds grown side-by-side.
The queens reclined, legs spread, bellies cradled by soft vines that lifted their breasts like offerings.
Lucas stood before them, cock blazing, eleven inches dripping glowing milk that steamed where it touched the stone.
The festival began with the First Milking.
Aeloria (High Seer of the moon-elves) and Nyxara (new High Seer of the dark-elves) stepped forward together.
They knelt between Elena's thighs, mouths sealing over her leaking nipples at the exact same moment.
Elena moaned, back arching, milk spraying in sweet, glowing arcs.
Aeloria swallowed greedily, throat working, silver hair turning luminous with every gulp.
Nyxara did the same to the other breast, crimson lips stained white.
When Elena's tits ran dry, the vines lifted Sophia into their place.
Then Vyrneth.
Every elf took their turn (two hundred moon-elf mouths, two hundred dark-elf mouths), drinking from the queens in perfect rotation until every belly glowed faintly with royal milk and every chin dripped silver.
Lucas never waited.
While the elves nursed, he moved behind the thrones.
First Elena: sliding into her from behind while she lactated into elven mouths, pregnant pussy tighter than ever, runes flaring with every thrust.
Ten strokes, then Sophia, then Vyrneth, cycling between three swollen, dripping queens while four hundred elves watched and moaned.
The island itself responded: clouds raining warm nectar, grass stroking bare feet, vines curling around elf ankles to keep them kneeling and open.
When the last elf had drunk their fill, the queens rose (bellies round and heavy, breasts still leaking) and laid Lucas on his back across the three throne-beds.
They took him together.
Elena straddled his face, pregnant pussy grinding on his tongue, milk dripping from her tits onto his chest.
Sophia mounted his cock reverse-cowgirl, swollen belly bouncing, dark pussy swallowing every inch.
Vyrneth knelt over his thighs, rubbing her leaking nipples against Sophia's back while vines fucked her gently from behind, keeping her on the edge.
The elves formed a living carpet around them (moon and dark paired again), drinking spilled milk from the stone, fingering each other in perfect rhythm to the triad's thrusts.
Lucas came first, flooding Sophia so full that glowing milk-cum poured out around his cock, running down his balls in thick rivers.
The elves scrambled to catch it on their tongues.
Sophia came next, squirting pregnant juices across Lucas's abs, mixing with the milk already pooling there.
Elena followed, grinding hard on his face, squirting straight down his throat while her tits sprayed both sisters in the face.
Vyrneth shattered last, vines pulling out as she came untouched, milk gushing from her nipples in silver-black arcs that painted the sky.
They kept going for seven straight days.
No sleep.
No night.
Only the floating island, the glowing queens, the king who never softened, and four hundred elves who drank, fucked, and worshipped until every belly (elf and royal) swelled with new life.
On the seventh sunrise, the island lowered gently back to the palace tree.
The queens stood at the edge, bellies huge now, milk still dripping, and spoke to their realm:
"Every year, on this week, the skies will lift us again.
Every mouth will drink.
Every womb will quicken.
Pleasure is our legacy."
Lucas pulled them close, hands resting on three glowing swells.
"And love," he added, voice rough, "is our law."
The tree sang.
The moons bowed.
The realm (whole, pregnant, and eternal) answered with one perfect, endless moan.
**THE END…