1434: Celebrian – Part FourPosted: June 4, 2016
Author: A now-forgotten servant of Morgoth the Defiler
Topic: Lord of the Rings
URL: Part Two
Critiqued by KittyNoodles
*** WARNING: The following riff contains the beginning stages of the most horrifying rape scene ever encountered within the halls of this Library. If dendrophilia, biastophilia, erotic humiliation, sadism, masochism, narratophilia, teratophilia, salirophilia, kidnapping, sexism, or slavery bother you even a little bit, this riff may not be for you. Also, there’s a picture of a dildo later on. So. ***
(*Lyle adds whiskey to her tea in preparation for formatting and proofreading*)
[After much offscreen shouting and cursing, Kitty is bodily flung into the Booth. Fury is already seated; Tarak is noticeably absent.]
Kitty: I wrote one fic. One.
Fury: If even my descendants took offense, you deserve to have your writing time refocused. Sit down.
Kitty: [complying grudgingly] It wasn’t even about them. It was about Wacraft characters.
Fury: Is this the story you refer to as the ‘trashfic’?
Kitty: No, it’s supplementary. And more immediately dark and [finger quotes] “problematic.”
Fury: Then you deserve to be here. Sit down.
Apologies, Librarians. Kitty has been shirking her responsibilities by hiding behind truly horrendous Warcraft fanfiction. She claims to have become temporarily drunk on the commentary–
Kitty: It was all so lovely and constructive…
Fury: –but that does not excuse her neglect.
In our previous installment of this atrocity, Celebrían performed fellatio on the goblin king – spitting upon the laws of physics and physiology in the process – and wound up quite literally drenched head to toe in seminal fluid. We halted in the midst of the disturbingly catlike bath Celebrían proceeded to give herself with her hands and tongue.
Kitty: [shuddering and already very green] Let’s get this next part over with, okay?
She wiped her eyes clear so that she could see. There was the king, sprawled on his throne. His great cock lay limp on his thigh, still thick and massive but not as thick as before. A string of drool hung from his parted lips. He smiled at the Celebrian.
Kitty: I know we’ve gaped in horror at this thing’s length before, but on his thigh? Fucking hell, does he have a re-purposed elephant trunk stitched down there?
Fury: Evidently Celebrían is now a species all her own. Or else the idiot responsible for this story has forgotten a word.
“Well, done, elf-bitch. Silver cock-sucker. Well done for a first time. Perhaps next time will be better.”
Kitty: She’s already headed towards a mental breakdown when this drug wears off, do you really need to dig in a bit more with a backhanded compliment?
Under the sheen of smeared semen, Celebrian’s cheeks turned red in shame for not fully pleasing her king. But her memory still burned with ectasty at the memory of the fill of the great cock. And she thought with pleasure that she was promised another try.
Kitty: I find it extremely suspicious that ‘ecstasy’ was misspelled to contain the word ‘tasty’. Subtlety is not one of Daeum’s strong suits.
Her own sex burned in her loins. She longed for the king to fill her lower throat as he had filled the upper.
Kitty: IT’S A VAGINA, YOU BLITHERING SIMPLETON.
She stared wishfully at his cock while her finger unthinkingly found her labia. The hood of her labia was wet with the seed that had run down her belly. She worked the moisture into her inner lips, around her clitoris, into her vagina.
Fury: Her finger is enough like his penis to satisfy her for the sake of her fantasizing. I do not believe that is compliment.
She worked her clit vigorously, eager for release. Soft moans escaped her lip. Her vision had begun to widen so that she could see the great cock stiffen again and at the same time watch the king’s rapt gaze at her twat.
Kitty: See, my vision gets all dark and fuzzy the farther along I get. I mean, I’m sure my pupils widen in response to the arousal, but–
Fury: No one asked.
Kitty: I’m just saying, based solely on my own experiences, that the fact that she’s seeing and processing more visual information as she nears climax seems a little far-fetched.
At last she felt climax near. Her back arched, she moaned loader and loader until sharp gasps filled the room.
Kitty: Again, based on my own experience, I’ve only ever gotten super noisy like… twice? Ever? Even when I knew I was the only person in the house at the time and had a locked door and loud music to boot?
Fury: I will slap you again if you do not stop.
Kitty: I’m providing solid evidence against the accuracy of the writing!
Fury: You are embarrassing everyone.
[Kitty slouches and mutters something about ‘sex negativity’.]
She had forgotten about cock and king when suddenly the king lifted her up, spun her around, bent her over and rammed his once again rigid member into her steaming pussy.
Kitty: [jumping up again] Fucking hell, he’s killed her!
Fury: Goodness, think of all the internal damage. He is… what? Ten inches long? A foot? Two? To say nothing of circumference… Add labial and vulval tearing to her list of injuries. And of course there is a potential for clitoral damage, at that rate…
Kitty: [crossing her legs and looking green again] Staaaaaaaaahp.
She gasped in pain as the broad shaft penetrated her tight pussy, a pussy never before filled with such girth. She gasped in pain as he drove his cock deep to the end of her tunnel, knocking against the firm end. Out came the head, then in again. In and out.
Kitty: [whispering] Nobody move and nobody say the agents we’re all thinking of. They can’t find us if we don’t scream.
Gasps of pain turning to screams of pleasure as the great cock melted her pussy.
Kitty: I’m extremely certain you should not melt any body parts while having sex. Yours or your partner’s. Just seems kinda rude.
One of her hands cupped her dangling breasts while the other returned to her clit, to work it her pearl.
Fury: Does she have a clitoral piercing, or is the author attempting to be poetic again?
She heard the king grunt with exertion, heard her owns squeals of pleasure as if from a distance. Felt herself fulfilled beyond any tortured dream of maidenhood.
Kitty: You know, there are a few people on one of my roleplay sites who write like this. I’m not sure if they don’t read very much, or if they’re allergic to commas and semicolons, or if they just think constantly throwing in incomplete sentences is cute or fantastical, but it’s freakishly annoying to keep finding sentences like, “Soft wings folding down against long, lithe back,” or, “Wide eyes narrowing as she pondered his sordid tale with keen mind and quiet posture.”
In short, fucking stop it. You’re annoying. Write the way you talk, dammit, or stop requesting fifteen threads a month with me.
At last her body tensed in climax. Still the cock worked her pussy. In and out. Her fluids, lessening, the cock now tugging her skin and lips with each pull. When her squeal turned back to pain, the king came a third time. No flood as before but more than Elrond had ever filled her with, much more.
Kitty: Okay the diseased tree trunk-slash-elephant trunk-slash-mutant flesh-eating lizard organism he crammed into you was already doing that way before he came, sweetheart.
The king flopped his member, now slack again, onto her back and let the last spurts of seed squirt up her back in long, hot ribbons. Finally he stepped back away, taking the thrice-piercing sword with him.
Kitty: Why did I imagine a deflated garden hose despite the asinine attempt at poeticism?
Fury: The narrative preceding the sword analogy likely had something to do with it.
She stood and felt the seed drip down her back and gush out of her pussy. It ran down her legs. She no longer had energy to gather the mess into her mouth.
Fury: And yet she remains either on her knees or standing up and bent forward at the waist, as Daeum has failed to show her collapsing to the ground.
She ached from mouth to pussy. Bruised, stretched and even torn, the ache was sharp pleasure.
Kitty: The goblin king could be richer than all the Dwarf-lords and Elf-lords in all the histories of Arda if he bottled whatever sludge he gave Celebrían and sold it at a reasonable price to anyone interested in hours of tireless sexcapades.
[shaking a fist at the screen] Why must you use your powers for evil?!
Numbly she allowed the king’s orcs to guide her to a chamber where she fell fast asleep.
Kitty: I, too, enjoy a good nap after–
Fury: [quellingly] Child.
Kitty: Line break!
She woke with a start, not knowing where she was. The room was pitch black. No hint of light for her soft elvish eyes to work with.
Kitty: Yes, generally speaking, eyeballs are very soft. Squishy, some would say.
She felt straw under her, realized that she was naked, or at least mostly naked. Silky straps ran shoulder to crotch.
Fury: Well, those certainly do not seem very comfortable sleeping conditions.
Kitty: Hopefully there aren’t any bugs in that hay. Or snakes. Or rats.
She thought back. Was she in the cave at the top of the pass? If so, some light should have trickled in from the cave mouth. Some sound of her fellow elves should have tickled her ears.
Kitty: You are on hay. You are almost entirely naked. You are wearing silken bondage gear. Why in the everloving FUCK would you think you’re still surrounded by your guards?! What the fuck?!
Fury: Apparently her guards all had very keen swords of their own, and very interesting ideas about how to stave off the chill of a mountain night.
Kitty: DON’T YOU START.
She strained for sight or sound. Distantly she heard the raucous laugh of orcs. Orcs. Her heart pounded.
Fury: The intensity of this scene is simply stifling. I can nearly feel her terror as though it were my my own.
Kitty: I hate you so much.
She remembered being taken to an orc king. Seeing his horrid, warty member. There was more. A searing draught. And then… no, it could not be, her mind screamed. It was a terrible nightmare. No more.
Kitty: You know, I’ve read a lot of really great depictions of mental breakdowns caused by trauma, terror, and a variety of other triggers. They’ve all had their own style, but one particular common thread that I enjoy finding is a lack of coherence and a breakdown of pacing. Instead of listing everything in a cold, detached series of events, why not write something more like this:
“She remembered now – remembered it all, every detail, every second. She remembered the battle in the mountains, remembered being dragged to the goblin king and degraded before him, being stripped and bathed like some hound fresh from the hunt. Again she tasted the blistering draught, again she heard her own voice mewl and squeal at the brute’s every touch, again she felt him, twisted and foul, in her mouth, in her throat, in her womanhood – ai…!”
You get where that’s going. That’s also my personal style when attempting to show my readers a mental snap, so I might be a bit biased. You tell me, Librarians: Which style gives you the better sense of what Celebrían may be feeling right now?
Fury: If you have finished showing off, we have a few more paragraphs yet to finish.
She rose from the straw in a rush and grabbed her herself for comfort. Her womanhood ached in protest at the motion, ached fiercely. She realized her jaw also ached. Could it have been real?
Kitty: Quite frankly, I’m shocked her romp with the goblin king didn’t cause her to bleed out in her sleep. Literally no woman is capable of having all of that rammed into her in one solid go.
“Never,” she gasped. Then she realized that her hands that wrapped her chest rested on crusty skin. With terrible dread she let her hands explore.
Kitty: [leaning her head back on the backrest] Oh my god, that is not how you write abrupt changes in the narrative. Take out the “Then,” make the phrase, “But her hands, wrapped now around her chest, rested upon crusty skin,” its own paragraph. Peasant.
[Fury snorts but says nothing.]
Dry crust on her breasts and chest. Pasty globs in the down of her pubes. More crust on her thighs. Thinner flakes on her face and forehead but a thick glob in her hair. She realized that the chamber was filled with the smell of dry and rancid semen. It had been with her long enough that she had not first noted it.
Kitty: [clutching at her head in abject horror] Oh god, dickcheese everywhere! Why didn’t they scrub her down again?! Why?!
She screamed in realization. Again she screamed. Then she stiffled the scream not wishing to draw her captors.
Fury: Her mood swings are even worse than yours.
Where was Elrond? Where was her rescue? But could she now be rescued? Would the king’s foul pollution remain with her forever no matter where she was, no matter how dead the king was?
Kitty: Actually– [CENSORED FOR SPOILERS.]
Fury: When in doubt, Lady Celebrían, always add fire to anything you truly wish to kill.
Kitty: Unless it’s a dragon.
Fury: Yes. Unless it is a dragon.
Minutes later, above her muffled cries, she heard a door open. Faint light trickled into her room. She could now see her semen covered body with her elvish sight. Hobnailed steps approached. The door to her room opened.
Kitty: Wow. Such suspense.
Fury: I am on the edge of my seat with anticipation. Whatever will happen next, I wonder?
The two orcs who had guided her to her disgrace leered at her.
Kitty: Golly, who could have seen that coming?
Okay, Librarians, that’s it for part four. I’m looking for another mini-fic to riff between chapters of this to keep from getting burned out on… this thing.
Fury: Which will also prevent her from doing terrible things to fictional characters she claims to adore.
Kitty: I break them because I care!
Fury: We are not arguing in front of the Librarians. Fade to black.