A feast, an honor. A time finally come. Now would Fyrndale provide to its Queen an adequate banquet.

Upon gnarled vines born of the sturdy sort, found only where too magic pervaded, velvet flesh lounged on a networked throne. Bright eyes fixed on what the sorceress’ advisors swore to be a male capable—nay, fated, to see Fyrndale prosper.

But did not all those gathered in the wings tremble even now? Deep in the pit of their hope, were they remembering the last creature to stand in the way of promise as this one now? The last shoulders upon which they’d hoisted the hope of satisfying the kingdom’s sovereign corruptor, from whom a nebulous of chaos belched in times of its governor’s abandoned sanity.

The tears and screams echoed across the banks of her memory now. Wet, cold.

Had the petulant elf just stayed still… Had he not tried to run when she’d called...

Shinjr’s disappointment was renewed. How pathetic a tribute that male had been. What allegiance their races preserved had spawned no offspring, as the bruises and stress to his frame was prone to rendering them...infertile. Impotent.

The thunderous rumble of a rolling growl was forced down into the hardened core of her belly.

The inconsolable wrath of her had been the death of the offerings before him, the seasonal sickness to wither the kingdom and those who dwelled near to it.

However, different was the tribute standing before her, his origin derived of a foreign substance. And it belonged to her to do as she pleased. There hung no need for restraint, no alliance in whom respect hindered her. With him would she see the birth of a new kingdom.

A frigid stare cut through the pillar of her mate now.

Yes, and Shinjr would see more than that. All of him. She would know all of him. His proportions. His tendencies. That thing thumping in the cage of his chest. The meat wielding the seed he had stored for her. That which defined him. And she only dared him to all but think to despise her as the others within the kingdom did in secret.

She dared him to behave in error.

Before the night suffered the morning sun, her womb would be made as full as his loins were to be made empty. His scent would be done away with, and he’d wear her own gladly. He would behold her from beneath the weight she bore down in demanding grinds, and the witnesses of Fyrndale’s council would see the moment they became less, as he became more, highest. Hers.

A spree of some deranged glee perverted the churn of her thoughts and gave way to an anxious impatience. Shinjr leered closer.

“Is it right to be clothed before your Queen?” Conjured from a seemingly depthless chasm, the sound offended the shadows themselves, for it commanded cruelty and urgency.

Hunger stirred the fatal vault of her internal reservoir. The glimmering lights within the courtroom’s cavernous walls illuminated the subtle deepening of velvet skin, darkening to a blunt shade of orchids at twilight.

A feast, an honor.

He would remove his garment as though an unwrapping of the sweetest savor, and the dangling length between his limbs would go without shelter. Then could they begin to learn one another properly.

Then could this night be set forth as the night Fyrndale gained for itself a King of worth.
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Hey there. This is a prompt of mine involving a sorceress (my character) and another fantasy species (your character). The story is meant to develop into a large cast with plenty of collaborative world-building between the two of us. I'd prefer a more experienced partner who has a grip on character range and diversity.

Though there may initially be a great deal of NSFW elements due to the beginner I wrote above and the character circumstance, this prompt is intended to be high on the scale of literary caliber and commitment. A writing sample would be appreciated if you do choose to contact.

Snippets about me:

- Past tense, third person only.

- Docs or Discord for writing only.

- EST.

- 21 , and searching for same.

- Actual adv lit desired.

Reddit PM if interested, otherwise, good luck in your search.