1469: Celebrian – Part FivePosted: July 10, 2016
Author: A now-forgotten servant of Morgoth the Defiler
Topic: Lord of the Rings
Critiqued by KittyNoodles
*** WARNING: The following riff contains some of the most horrifying rape scenes ever encountered within the halls of this Library. If dendrophilia, biastophilia, erotic humiliation, sadism, masochism, narratophilia, teratophilia, salirophilia, cum inflation, kidnapping, sexism, slavery, or victim shaming/blaming bother you even a little bit, this riff may not be for you. ***
[Kitty groans as she sits down next to Fury again with a bucket of popcorn in one arm and a soda in her free hand.]
Kitty: Hi, Patrons. We’re back with more Celebrian. Sadly we still aren’t very far at all through it.
Fury: Reading ahead is dreadful for riffing, is it not?
Kitty: Shut up, you. I could be writing the fifteen or so responses I owe on Reign right now. Or polishing part one of the supplemental trashfic so that the elf torture makes more sense. Trissy is excited to read it!
Kitty: My favorite reviewer, Triskaideka. Such lovely concrit…
Patrons, in our previous installment, we watched the goblin king attempt to murder Celebrían by way of blunt force trauma resulting in massive internal damage, only to discover that Celebrían is in fact made of an unknown and incredibly resilient stretching material. Likely silly putty.
Kitty: In other words the goblin king rammed his extremely explicitly elephant-sized penis up Celebrían’s lady pocket and that somehow only resulted in a bit of an ache the next morning for Celebrían. Now Celebrían is awake and has just been visited by some orc guards, who are no doubt here to drag her back to the remarkably insatiable goblin king.
Off we go…
“Come along, silver cock-sucker. Semen-drinker. Cock-worshipper,” sneered the orcs.
Kitty: Usually we rag on writers using too many synonyms, but I think these orcs might benefit from a glance through their nearest thesaurus. These insults are just so… dry.
She had thought the memory of the awful cock in her mouth was the depth of her disgrace. But the names brought back the memory of her own eager words. It was then that she realized that she had not been raped, that she had willingly pleasured the grotesque king.
Kitty: HOLD THE FUCK UP.
NO, DAEUM. NO.
That scene we spent like half a year on does not in any way qualify as consensual anything.
Celebrían was fucking drugged. You spent like a collective three pages explicitly detailing how much of a mental one-eighty she did once your guards had finished half-drowning her with that drought! You yourself admitted that she had to be psychologically altered in order for the goblin king to have his way with her! That is not fucking consensual fucking! That is drugging a victim and then taking advantage of her altered state to make her do and say things she would never consent to if she was still in her right mind! This is like claiming a chick was okay with sex because she was high on acid at the time and never explicitly said ‘no’!
[voice becomes bitingly sarcastic and devolves into an enraged snarl as she goes] “But officer, he was out cold the whole time from the roofie I slipped him, so it doesn’t really count as rape since he never woke up from being drugged.”
And I don’t give a flying rat’s ass if you have Celebrían thinking she consented in this passage here! You know why? BECAUSE BEFORE THAT SHE WAS FULLY AWARE THAT THE DROUGHT HAD MADE HER DO AND SAY EVERYTHING, AND SHE COMES TO THE SAME CONCLUSION LATER ON IN THIS RIFF. This isn’t character opinion because you aren’t that good at writing character perspectives, you tree-humping, misogynistic psychopath!
For those who didn’t want to read the above rant, I’ll shorten it: FUCK YOU UP THE ASS WITH A SPLINTERING, RAIN-ROTTED BOARD OF WOOD RIDDLED WITH RUSTY OLD NAILS, DAEUM, YOU FUCKING RAPE-SYMPATHIZER.
[Kitty pants and plops back down in her seat with a huff which sounds vaguely like an affirmation.]
She did not resist as the orcs led her back to the king’s chamber. On the way she passed warrens filled with sneering, jeering orcs.
Kitty: Aren’t they technically already in a warren? The whole place seems like it’s underground, and the way it’s written it feels like there are lots of twisting hallways and side passages…
Or am I just filling in bits of the void subconsciously since this is my third or fourth time reading this trash?
Fury: You are a glutton for punishment. Unfortunately, the activities being described are far too distracting to allow me to confidently answer your question. However, I, too, have been assuming the location is a large, underground tunnel system.
Great orc matrons with huge, pendulous breasts and teats the size of her husband’s penis. Matrons who mimed fellatio as she passed. Countless male orcs of all sizes, nearly all with their cocks before them, erect and offered for her mouth.
Kitty: After everything else we’ve read so far, this just seems like a charming glance into the daily life of orc whores and their clients.
Briefly she marveled at the size and shapes of the cocks before catching herself and forcing disgust.
Kitty: And we’re back to revulsion.
Fury: Small favor.
And the names they shouted at her. Cock-sucker. Ball-holder. Cock-whore. Ball-queen. Knob-licker. Semen-drinker. Every one a name she remembered using to beseech the king. It was too much to bear. By the time she reached the king, she hung limp between the two orcs, booted feet dragging behind her.
Kitty: She’s still submitting to this asinine idea that any of this was somehow her fault. I have never wished so dearly that I knew that identity and exact location of an author in all my life.
Fury: A nuclear warhead for a debauched character will make the whole world a wasteland.
Kitty: Then maybe folks should knock this shit off.
They dropped her before the orc king on his throne.
Fury: Fortunately she did not have far to fall, having already been limp in their arms.
Kitty: So the king is totally okay with his prisoner getting beat up? Weren’t these same guards worried about touching her at all earlier?
And wasn’t the orc king called the goblin king earlier? Or is this a different king? Or is my thinky squishy stuff leaking out my hearing holes from the sheer stupidity hidden under all the rape?
Fury: The latter, surely.
“Celebrian, cock-lover, seed-guzzler. Welcome back,” said the king. “Cum-eater.”
Kitty: You can’t eat a liquid, numbnuts. If you’re eating it, ostensibly you’re chewing at some point, and if it needs chewing, it’s not really liquid enough to count as a liquid.
…Oh, wait. I think at some point she ate some half-dried jizz.
You win this round, asscravat.
His member lay stiff before him but Celebrian huddled in a ball and could not see it.
Kitty: I need to hug something.
Fury: I am incorporeal and the chairs are likely infested.
“Give her the draught,” said the king.
[Kitty clears her throat, gestures demonstratively at the screen, and then crosses her arms and slouches in her seat.]
With a start, Celebrian raised her head. The draught had made her disgrace herself. It was the draught’s fault. She had to run. She couldn’t let them do it to her again.
[Kitty makes a much louder, distinctly “I told you so”-sounding sound in her throat.]
Fury: Must I tell you to use your words, as I did when my children were toddlers?
[Kitty sticks her tongue out at Fury.]
<blockquote>She rose and tried to flee</blockquote>
Kitty: [sitting up and waving a fist emphatically] Thatta girl! Run, Cel, run!
but her aching body betrayed her. She tripped at the foot of the king’s throne and rolled onto her back.
Fury: That went well.
[Kitty grumbles and slouches again.]
She looked up through the king’’ hair spread legs at the bulb of his cock. She shuddered at the sight yet she could not suppress a warmth in her loins.
As she lay on her back staring at the cock, the king’s orcs forced the liquid down her throat. She lay on the floor, gazing at the cock as its warmth flowed through her again.
Kitty: You know, I’d feel worse for her if we hadn’t just watched her – and I really, really hate that I’ve been given the opportunity to use this turn of phrase – if we hadn’t just watched her literally lay there and take it.
Seriously, Daeum, what the hell? Is she concussed or are you really bad at understanding how normal people react to being in a situation they really, really don’t want to be in?
Fury: Well, she did just trip over his throne. How and over what portion of the throne remain mysteries, but perhaps she hit her head on the way down.
The draught’s smell of rancid sex brought back the memory of her cum-bath from the night before.
Kitty: I need to remember to bring a pillow for future riffs. Otherwise everybody’s gonna need earplugs or something to put up with all the screaming I’ll be doing down the road.
Before her eyes, the king’s cock seemed to change from a loathsome twisted, warty shaft to a rod of splendor and beauty, smooth spearhead on robust, knotty shaft. The memory of the moles and warts on her lips, against her pussy returned to her, bringing pleasure and further warmth and wetness to her loins.
Kitty: I forget, did we already have “causes a complete shift in the victim’s definition of beauty” to the list of effects this draught has on people?
Fury: I have forgotten and have no desire to revisit our previous riffs to clear the matter up.
Kitty: That’s fair.<blockquote>On her own volition, she rose and stood before the king. Caked cum in her hair, dry cum on her skin. And a hungry leer on her lips.
Kitty: IT ISN’T OF HER OWN FUCKING VOLITION IF SHE’S FUCKING DRUGGED YOU RAMPAGING SOILED ASSCRAVAT ON A DONKEY!!!
Fury: Stay away from small children, Kitty.
Her hands went to her pussy, not to hide it but to caress her tender clit.
Fury: A woman’s genital area is not usually larger than either of her hands – certainly not enough to be fully visible if she is reaching down to pleasure herself from a standing position. Even clitoral stimulation should require hand positions which provide enough obscurity to qualify the region as a whole as being ‘hidden’. As she is not bending over while facing away from the king, her intent has little bearing on how much is visible, rendering your statement both pointless and inane.
“Great king, cock-of-the-world. Celebrian the cock-loving elf-whore begs your gifts again.”
Kitty: COCK OF THE WORLD?!
Fury: That is indeed what is written.
The king nodded for her to continue. Her head was not so cloudy this time. She knew what he meant.
Fury: Does that make this draught highly addictive, or is Celebrían simply developing an immunity to its effects?
“I am cum-drinker, seed-swiller. I yearn for my mouth to run over with your semen. Fill my nostrils with your pungent gift. Shower me with your spray. Let my face run with your seed, let my breasts drip with your cum. Fill my twat with your great cock. Whore that I am, I beg to eat you again.”
Fury: I am so glad I agreed to help you in this endeavor. Clearly you are a stable, emotionally mature young woman who is well equipped to handle the many debaucheries of bad fanfiction writing.
“As you wish Celebrian,” said the king. His rubbery lips stretch in a great grin, bearing his fangs. He snorted with delight. “As you wish.”
Fury: Were Kitty in a better mood, I believe she would take this opportunity to use a GIF from The Princess Bride movie adaptation. However, she has suddenly and conveniently fallen onto the floor and is engaged in what can only be described as a frothing, seizure-like fit.
This is likely due to the fact that she has been rendered unable to watch or read The Princess Bride for the next several months thanks to this fanfiction.
She eagerly seized his cock with both hands. She teased his head with her tongue, exploring all the smooth bulb and warty shaft, remembering her pleasures from the night before and anticipating new ones.
Fury: I suppose now we shall see whether or not Daeum has much imagination when he masturbates.
Kitty, the floor is filthy. Do get up.
[Incoherent rage noises sound from the floor.]
Then she plunged onto his cock, taking it in to the root and out again. Over and over once more. This time, working the king’s great gonads in her hands at the same time.
Fury: This story has already become so repetitive that even the writer is beginning to gloss over parts of it.
When the king came, she was at top-stroke, open mouth poised above the cock. The king let loose with a spurt that shot into her throat and bounced back out to spill and dribble down her chin. Swiftly, she cupped her hands below the torrent to catch as much as possible and scoop it back into her hungry mouth, swallowing fiercely to keep up with the seemingly endless flow.
Fury: I am not entirely certain Daeum understands the impossibilities present in this selection. For starters, if Celebrían was indeed away from the king’s penis when he ejaculated, his release would not have gone directly to the back of her throat. Her tongue, at the very least, would have provided a minor obstacle that would have halted or redirected at least a portion of the fluid.
Secondly, Celebrían should have coughed the moment any fluid reached the back of her throat, as that is the body’s automatic response to any foreign substance – liquid or otherwise – coming into contact with the opening of the esophagus by any means other than swallowing. This reflex prevents one from choking or drowning by clearing one’s airways with a sharp gust of air from the lungs, and is certain to be triggered by an event such as fluid spraying into one’s mouth with enough force to ricochet back out in a manner similar to projectile vomiting. Therefore, only a small amount of what is here described as a torrent of seminal fluid should have been able to reach Celebrían’s throat – within a fraction of a second, might I add – before she would have begun to choke, which would draw her head downwards and cut off the pathway between the tip of the orc king’s penis and the back of her throat.
Lastly, I would like everyone to open your mouth as wide as you can without injuring your jaw. Now, without closing your mouth, please attempt to swallow.
[Fury waits for a ten-count.]
You cannot, can you? This is again a reflex present in most humans – and therefore ostensibly in Elves – which exists to prevent one from choking due to getting a mouthful of fluid or an overlarge portion of food caught in one’s throat. Even those of you who were able to swallow likely had to spend a second or so in the attempt before succeeding. Celebrían simply could not have swallowed so much fluid while sitting before the king with her mouth hanging open, even if she was not in the process of choking on her first mouthful. Even if we assume she can swallow open-mouthed, she would still not be able to do so as swiftly as she could if she were, say, drinking from a cup. Her first hesitation would have resulted in the ongoing ejaculation triggering her gag reflex, resulting in the aforementioned choking scenario.
When at last the flow ceased, she was again dripping with semen. Her face was smeared in goo, although this time she managed to keep her eyes clear. More semen dripped from her pert breasts. Her mouth swam with the stuff. Her stomach sloshed with much more of it.
Fury: Hmm. Kitty, get up. I require advice in regards to fetishes.
Kitty: [on her back, on the floor, with her hands pulled to her chest] Don’t you know what Google is?
Fury: Yes, but I do not own a cellular telephone.
[Kitty grumbles and swipes on her phone for a moment.]
Kitty: You’re looking for salirophilia and cum inflation, Fury. We’ve already covered those ones; they’re fetishes revolving around dirtying others and inflating oneself or someone else with cum, respectively.
Fury: Ah. Evidently I am capable of repressing certain memories, after all.
Kitty: [pocketing her phone] Don’t give me plotbunnies, Fury. You know what happens when I get plotbunnies.
Remembering the second wind of the time before, she turned her hands to the slackening cock and worked it back to its rigid state. She reached to take the bulb into her mouth when the orc king stood up and spun her around again.
Kitty: The orc king has absolutely no refractory period. Which isn’t impossible, since not everyone has one, but I still want to ding it for being really, really convenient. I have one that lasts between five and thirty minutes. It’s entirely unfair that this asswagon doesn’t have one at all.
Also, it would be refreshing to read a pornfic where someone did have a period of time where they couldn’t get it up or were even rendered momentarily oversensitive to otherwise pleasurable stimuli, if only because it would add variety to the pornfic scene.
Get on that, ficcers.
This time she was ready for his ministrations. She sunk to all fours and spread herself for him. But his cock bumped against her anus, not her pussy. She arched her back to better present her pussy, but the king pushed her ass down and again pushed at her anus.
Fury: Somehow Celebrían is able to understand nonverbal cues from the orc king while simultaneously remaining unable to understand nonverbal cues from the orc king.
Kitty: Nah, she just thinks he’s too dumb to aim properly. Not an unfair assumption, considering his plan for avoiding the wrath of her fellow Elves is basically “wait to run until we see the whites of their eyes.”
He thrust and shoved, bruising her with his great club and scratching her ass with his clawed hands that gripped her buttocks. He tried to spread her ass open but, though she tried to welcome the king, and encouraged him with her words, he could not penetrate her tight ass.
Kitty: Oh, so he can ram this–
–into her ladypouch with enough force that he should have ripped her in half, and somehow only leaves her with some minor soreness the next morning. But this very same logic-defying penis cannot manage to breach her sphincter even a little bit, no matter how much force he puts behind it or how much he and Celebrían work to stretch that sphincter out.
I am now entirely convinced that Daeum has no grasp on physics, anatomy, or reality in general. Either Celebrían has an iron asshole with twenty security locks and a retina scanner, or the orc king is suffering a sudden bout of muscular dystrophy.
Giving up, he turned to her wet pussy. He took her savagely, cuming quickly. Again he pulled his cock from her to drain himself on her back. This time, his pent energy sent most of it into her hair at the back of her head.
Kitty: Right, because none of us assumed that happened last time. It magically avoided her already completely trashed hair last time. Because that’s how stuff works.
The orcs lead her back to her chamber while the effects of the draught still lasted. Now she met the jeers of the orcs: “yes, I drink the king’s cock. Not puny ones such as your own.” This time she gazed unabashedly at all the magnificent orc dicks offered to her.
Kitty: She drinks the cock itself? Did we miss the scene where she threw it in a blender and hit “purée?”
Fury: Tragically, no, we did not.
But her guards would not let her sample the offerings and she returned to her chamber and the darkness.
Kitty: What offerings? Are they flashing their junk at her or offering her dick-shaped pastries?
DAMMIT, DAEUM, PUT THE THESAURUS AWAY.
No sooner had the door closed then the draught’s power faded away. This time, no sleep buffered her from the memories of what she had done. What she had willing taken into her mouth. She wept silent tears. She did not allow herself to think of rescue by Elrond.
Fury: Regrettably, Kitty has again succumbed to a fit of rage and is no longer coherent. As this scene ends with a line break, I suppose we shall have to end the riff here and give the poor girl time to compose herself before the next round.
Until next time, Patrons.