A stifling atmosphere, saturated with despair, reigned in the elven land. For hundreds of years, the people had lived under oppression, deprived of happiness. The king and aristocracy, mired in debauchery and the struggle for power, ignored the suffering of their subjects. They eliminated rivals, raped women, and raided human lands, abducting slaves. Half-elves, born of violence, were considered second-class beings, rejected by society.
In the luxurious chambers of the palace, Decem Hogan, the elven king, lay on the bed. His long white hair streamed over his muscular body, highlighting his sculpted abs. Heterochromatic eyes — one white, the other black — radiated arrogance. He struck an elven woman in a flimsy dress that barely covered her chest, watching as she flew towards the wall, crashing down and clutching her reddened cheek. Coldly, he tossed out:
"Get out. You're disgusting. Better take care of the children you're carrying by me."
Tears streamed from her eyes, and she fled. Decem, paying no attention, turned his gaze to the other girls huddled in the corner. Clicking his tongue, he spat:
"Filth. Useless. Out!"
The elves, trembling, rushed for the exit. Decem sighed and muttered:
Is there nothing worthwhile in this country?
His thoughts returned to the woman he had once broken and raped with pleasure. His member stirred at the memory, but she had died. He recalled rumors of his daughter, a strong half-elf in the human country, and thought:
Take her back? Conceive more children with her?
His erection hardened, as if in agreement.
Leisurely strolling through the palace, Decem stopped at the portraits of past kings. Their confident gazes irritated him. Frowning, he threw one to the floor, arrogantly declaring:
"I, Decem Hogan, am the greatest ruler of the elves! No one compares to me!"
Noticing the servants, he pointed his finger:
"Burn the paintings of the past kings! Hang mine! And statues — even more throughout the country!"
The servants, bowing, hurried to carry out the order. There were already enough statues of Decem, but the paintings were removed quickly. Continuing his walk, he felt the cool air on his skin. From the height of the palace, he surveyed his domain and suddenly froze. Below, in the garden, he saw an elven woman whose beauty struck him. Her snow-white skin, silvery hair, blue eyes, as if holding clouds, and long ears, gently twitching, captivated him. Her lush breasts bounced as she smelled the flowers, creating an idyllic scene. Decem's member stirred, he swallowed.
Arrogantly descending, he approached. The elven woman, noticing him, bowed respectfully. Decem, grabbing her chin, made her flinch and asked:
"Who are you?"
"I… I'm the new gardener, tending the flowers," she replied, trembling.
"Really?" he sneered. "You're coming with me."
Without asking, he grabbed her hand and led her to his chambers. She cried out:
"Ow! It hurts!"
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but Decem, paying no attention, threw her on the bed. She fell with a soft gasp:
"Ee-eeh!"
With widened eyes, she asked:
"What's happening?"
Decem unbuckled his belt, his member revealed before her. The elven woman froze in horror. He haughtily pronounced:
"You'll do for the evening. Your future depends on your efforts."
Hovering over her, he brought his face closer, their breaths mingled. His hand slid to her breast, squeezing it. She let out a sharp breath: "Ah!"
Tearing the fabric, he exposed her seductive breasts with protruding nipples. Raising his member, he prepared to insert it into her, but her hand suddenly touched his testicles. Decem, surprised, looked at her, expecting submission, but saw a smirk. Her gaze made him shudder.
"What…" he began, but unbearable pain pierced him. He screamed, furiously and agonizingly: "AAA! Damn it!"
Staggering back, he clutched his groin, blood flowing between his fingers. Pale, he stared at the elven woman. She held his bloody testicles, her smile malicious. Decem, in anger and arrogance, shouted:
"What the hell are you doing, bitch?! Do you want to die? After torturing you, I'll send you to the beastmen!"
Decem was so angry that words couldn't express it, and how dare they do this to him! How dare this woman, no, bitch! Do such a thing to him? No one in this country dared to do this to him!
Her sinister laughter filled the room:
"He-he-he!"
Dessem swallowed, breaking out in goosebumps. Her blue eyes turned black with orange rings, glowing ominously. He cried out:
"Who are you, creature?!"
Yes, welcome Meylena, Goddess of Chaos and Evil, lover of flowers and destroyer of other people's balls. I present to your attention:
"Your worst nightmare."
Meylena purred, flashing a mischievous glint in her eyes and licking her lips at the same time.
***
Decem, breathing heavily, glared at Meylena, who was playing with his bloody testicles, rolling them in her fingers. Crossing her legs, she smiled cheerfully, enjoying his rage. Meylena, giggling, began:
"Do these balls really make you kings of the world? Pompous, important, you think the whole world should fall at your feet because of this thing between your legs?" She laughed.
She couldn't understand why this thing always attracted so much attention? As if if you have it, the whole world should kiss and cherish you? And all the women should pray to you? Meylena didn't think so, and she would prove it.
In her opinion, the world should belong only to women, and only love between them should flourish and smell sweet. And as for men, they should die and disappear in agony.
Yes, her innermost desire is to remove all men from the universe, dividing them to zero, and that only women should remain, where they could fully enjoy each other.
Decem's face flushed with anger. Her mockery overflowed the cup of patience. With a roar, he unleashed magic, streams of energy pouring from his body, destroying the ceiling. A vortex rose, the furniture creaked, the walls collapsed under the pressure. But Meylena remained unharmed, lazily tossing his testicles back to him:
"Okay, okay, why are you getting so worked up? So you lost your balls. Why are you blazing so much?"
Decem, clenching his fist until his knuckles cracked, roared:
"Bitch!"
He pointed his palm, gathering a clot of magic, but his wrist suddenly twisted at an unnatural angle. Decem screamed in pain: "Aaa! Damn it!"
His hand hung limply, and he, uncomprehending, stared at Meylena. The latter, with feigned surprise, sang:
"What happened? The hand twisted? You shouldn't have worked it so much, if you know what I mean!" She laughed, clutching her stomach. With her bloody hand, she smeared blood over her body.
Decem, retreating, decided to run, despite his pride. Revenge could wait, the most important thing now was to survive! But at the exit he stumbled, tracing the floor with his face. His skin scraped, he howled:
"Aaa! Damn!"
Trying to stand up, he leaned on his hands, but his body became heavy. Raising his gaze, he saw in panic that one leg was missing. In horror, he cried out:
"What did you do, bitch?!"
Meylena, with an innocent look, shrugged:
"Me? I didn't do anything."
Suddenly, a purring voice rang out in the room:
"Long time no see, pa-poo-chka," the last word sounded slowly, syllable by syllable.
Decem, barely pushing back his hair, saw a teenage girl with a scythe. Her heterochromatic eyes and two-tone hair resembled his. He breathed out:
"You…"
But a flash of pain interrupted him. The testicles, leg, and arm were restored, but he didn't have time to realize it. Meylena, laughing maliciously, said:
"It's a pity if you die so quickly. Resurrection is possible, but it's too early. Let's get to that gradually."
Decem tried to stand up, but a sharp blade pierced his chest.
"Aaa! No!"
Blood spurted, Zesshi, with a malicious grin, pulled out her scythe and delivered a series of blows.
"Aaa! Stop! I beg you!"
Decem was in agony and utter humiliation. Like any living being, he was also familiar with pleasure and pain, but since he had fully known the former, it was logical to know the latter, wasn't it?
Blood flooded the floor and walls, but a green glow healed him, preventing him from dying. Zesshi, splattered with blood, continued with a crazy smile, her eyes gleaming. Meylena amused herself, watching.
"Enough," said Meylena, and Zesshi stopped.
A snap of the fingers — Decem woke up, looking around in confusion. His arrogance was replaced by fear. Meylena, leaning over, sang:
"No, no, you won't lose your mind. It's just the beginning."
A ring on her finger flashed. Decem clutched his chest, exclaiming in bewilderment: "Oh!"
His dignity disappeared, and female forms grew on his chest. He stared at them in shock. Meylena mischievously giggled:
"Do you like women? Then become one of them! If you like debauchery, then you don't mind friends?"
From the shadows emerged demons — massive, with scaled bodies, horns, burning eyes, and clawed paws, their skin resembling charred stone. Some had spider limbs, others had spiked tails. Meylena, clapping her hands, sang:
"Ready to have some fun, boys?"
The demons growled in agreement:
"Grrr! Rrra!"
Their members stirred. Decem's eyes widened in horror, he tried to scream, but a demon impaled his mouth on his member without prelude. Others, tearing off his clothes, exposed Decem's lower lips. Without preparation, they pierced him, blood gushed. The demons clearly didn't miss a single one of her openings and happily occupied all available places, cheerfully cackling and roaring aloud. Tears streamed from Decem's eyes, pain mixed with a surge of pleasure. Meylena exclaimed:
"Look, Zesshi! He likes it! The tears are clearly from joy!"
Zesshi's lips twitched, but she stared mesmerized as her "father," the cause of her suffering, received retribution. The demons continued, slaps and bangs accompanied their movements. Decem's face contorted, his eyes rolled back, but the green glow brought him back to consciousness. His palate healed, tore again, blood flowed. The demon behind, roaring ("Rrr!"), grabbed Decem by the hair, lifting him up. Freeing his mouth, Decem screamed:
"Aaa! Stop! I beg you, stop!"
Tears flowed, but Meylena, tilting her head, asked in surprise:
"You like it, right? It's clear from your satisfied face. Why are you complaining?"
Decem, with a lustful groan, glared at them with hatred. Maylena, winking, added:
"Want strong children? Give birth yourself, let's see how that turns out!"
New demons surrounded Decem, their guffaws and laughter filling the room: "Ha-ha! Grrr-ha-ha!"
"No! I beg you, enough! In the name of the Gods, stop!"
Decem pleaded, but, as it often happens in the real world, no one heard his pleas or cries for help.