Description
*THERE IS A STORY BELOW THE DESCRIPTION*
More elves, more ONO, more fun!
Got a friend who loves elves (more than life or breathing it seems) and I offered to write a story if I could publish the pic...and thus did fate made me reach for the keyboard, typing a new tale for the occasion. Harem-clad elves are indeed pretty sweet and inspiration struck rather fast here.
The artist is ONO-FIRE , someone who needs no introduction at this point. Their gaze, pose and their midriffs are all top-tier and it's my genuine pleasure to share this with all of you. If you like their work and want to commission something, here are their prices:
Mature Content
And if you like my own work, obligatory Patreon reference here www.patreon.com/incredibleintr…
Now what is actually happening here? Read on and find out!
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A CLASH OF DANCERS
“May the best dancer win~”
The voice of their mistress echoed as the two dancers went on to look at the other not as a fellow sister of the harem, but as competition. It was required of them to cooperate, to look out for one another, to assist and improve with any tasks and whatever might be required or requested by their owner...yet as of this moment this was a duel and both elves would definitely make sure that they'd get on top. The most important, precious and exquisite of beings, goddess above all that was known. Her generosity, how they lived in her domain, meant that whatever was asked of them they would do, obedience being their payment for her grace and kindness.
The music started playing, many other elves trained to create rhythms through wind instruments, drums, cymbals and strings. A beat was established, slow at first in order to pave things out for something else later. This was for stretches, for introductions, for establishing style, the first salvo in what ought be constant fire from magical projectors and hip-swaying. Seduction as the basis for rivalry and competition. The methodical first bit was done, but one instrument setting out for others to follow and then the tune really did start as the dancers would go forth and show their mettle.
Red was the one bold enough to take the literal first step. She had picked up a red bedlah to complement her short hair and her name, crimson set against fair flesh with hints of gold. Her slitted pantaloons amplifying curves and assets, curved slippers allowing for the barest friction to halt her slow grinding of the front of her foot which was used to place one leg forward. Establishing a stance, her more aggressive kind of dancing, never backing down or going as exponentially as she could, she went all in with a hip drum just as low drums entered the melody. Arms crossed beneath her chest, this was a blow to the opposition, a smug smile on her face to assert dominance.
Brownie, however, was a bit more chaotic or at least seemed that way at first glance. Barefoot, a similar bedlah of light blue that did not entirely befit either her name or her long brown hair, her attire seemed ill-fitting, yet still did she do it justice with her body and her flair. She made it work with her ponytail, her curves and that glimmer of soft confidence on her face. She went for a more dangerous first move in a twirl and then an arabesque, her legwork decidedly more gracious and nimble as her arms crossed above her chest, wrists twirling once and then settling up with palms connecting just above her head while she regained an upright stance. Showing off, a calmer smile that indicated that she was unafraid of this entire event.
The very first moves established, both dancers went on to enter the proverbial arena, the figurative stage upon which many eyes were set, yet only one pair was truly worth anything: the mistress'. The music changed its tempo, something a bit lighter, faster and jovial as Red went on to the tip of her toes, the curved end of her slippers brushing against the floor as she shimmied her hips while advancing towards this challenger. Her crossed arms moved forward, hands upright and palms sticking together with a little clap as her belly jiggled due to the very nature of her gestures.
Brownie, however, went for hunting steps, long strides of double one-sided foot motions as if springing from one place to another as she shook her shoulders each time. She switched side and stance from her abdomen, letting her breasts essentially jiggle as she went in a different direction for her dance, letting her opponent have the higher ground with midriff motions. Soon enough, she'd go with her build up as the brunette elf was patient and knew how to change tactics as both dancers were close to one another now. Whatever distance separated them was almost moot now, making it easier for spectators to witness the two in their splendid and sublime apex.
Red led an assault with her shimmies, but as she was about to collide with her rival she twirled around with careful steps and then went on to gyrate her waist. As the strings began to change the pace of the music, she went on to match their speed with rather incredible precision. Whether she was influencing her moves or it was the opposite mattered not, for those hands of hers went on to brush against her hips as the rotation expanded upon those hips and circles went on to dazzle everyone with their sensuality. There was confidence in those eyes, to be sure.
Yet as much as Brownie was impressed, though she could not show it, it was time to unleash her expertise as this build-up could only be maintained for so long before it got stale and boring. She stayed put for the moment, letting Red turn around as the shoulder shimmies were unleashed full-blast, a spell component from her body released for all to see. Her arms waved slowly while her upper body went on to shake as her isolation, the way she could handle multiple gestures and speed was demonstrated. Fingers beckoning individually, serpentine, while the shaking was transferred to her waist and then her hips as shimmies were there yet differently, an allocation of energy to a different place.
Red noticed that all she had done was actually build her rival up with all of this, her efforts employed to improve rather than diminish as there was no denying that Brownie was, to be cruder, hot stuff. She might have been wearing the warm colors herself, but the blazing passion and raw energy on display put her to shame as she needed to quell those motions and the best way was to shift this entire performance, to reclaim the spotlight with something unexpected. Thus did she rise her arms above her head in a surprisingly swift way, clapped twice to surprise everyone and then went on to undulate her stomach. Belly rolls of a chaotic yet sensual nature, fast and then slow, a killer move that could steal anyone's thunder if there was one.
For a moment, it was certainly successful as Brownie looked at that supple yet slightly muscular stomach, one that could assuredly belong to a woman who knew a lot about the life of fighters, of the military, of combatants. Their past was a mystery, yet one veiled for their benefit as it mattered not what they did or who they were rather than who they were now. Admiring that mastery of midriff muscles, the way those hips sometimes backed away in semi figure-eight gave those moves a hypnotic quality all to themselves, exceptionally charming. Yet she wasn't exactly done as while beautiful and impressive, Brownie could still unleash a lot upon her unsuspecting rival.
Red thought indeed that she could claim victory, yet those shimmies turned into slower ones, the kind which would allow for steps to be used as Brownie repositioned herself while teasing the crimson-clad dancer. Yet as the trajectory and end result could be predicted, the brunette held the reins of chaos and regained not only fervor but control as she went on her knees, brushed the stage with her hair by slowly circling her head forward and back. Her back vaulted to its maximum, she then caressed her belly flesh with the tip of her fingers as she fluttered that supple surface. Sucking in and breathing out at quick pace, a silent drum that was louder and more eloquent to the soul as there was mastery of the body on display here...and it was very hard to ignore.
Brownie had turned the tide even though she was lower, allowing for Red to tower over her. This was a double-edged sword in that it could be used against her, yet boldness was the game and she wanted to be the best player on that field. Forgoing her advantage, she rose up slowly without problem for a moment, yet it strained her as her muscles definitely weren't as developed as Red's. The music went fast, with cymbals ringing and encouraging her not to skip a beat and yet it was tough as her lower back was killing her. The strain could be felt as her smile was gone, her face turning more like her opponent's namesake and yet...yet came a helping hand that felt comforting and reassuring, familiar too, in that of Red's supporting her.
It could have made her win to simply let Brownie fall...but part of Red felt it would be not only unfair but a massive shame. Her belly rolls turned in hip-swaying, much simpler yet as her fingers brushed against that luscious and soft flesh, they exchanged a glance and to say that sparks went on to fly would be underselling it. Blushing of cheeks, locked eyes, time stretching as Brownie was brought on her feet and all strain was forgotten. Red went on to approach one hand to Brownie's face, a tender moment and yet it felt but akin to a distraction as both were startled as to what was happening. Confusion, yet certainly not awkwardness in the sense that they had enjoyed this little interlude.
Yet Brownie was the one to snap out of it as she twirled away, twirling her wrists above her head and distancing herself just a few steps away. Then her eyes set upon Red again as there was intimacy, attraction even, as if the competition turned into something else. Hip-swaying to match that of Red, followed by waves of her arms rising up and down to the side of her, as if she was all muscles and no bones there. Very serpentine, an apropos quality as beads of sweat pearled upon her most appealing flesh.
Red noticed that, finding herself thirsty in more ways than one as her focus was not just on her dance, but on Brownie as well. Such a situation might hurt the quality of her dance, yet the opposite happened as her hip-swaying went on to give way to a mixture of figure-eights, both horizontal and vertical, creating an opportunity for her to show how flexible she could be. Her flat stomach went on to bend in interesting ways, her lower back providing extra stability to the rising speed of those shifting stances, the same motion done in different directions to grant a mystique to them...all for her opponent's benefit.
It would be sacrilege for either to admit that right now the pair of eyes that meant to most to lay upon them was each other's. Happy smiles, blushing cheeks, poetry spoken through stares and sensual movements as they got closer to one another without animosity, rivalry or the desire to dominate one another. It felt almost like courtship, a bond between them both discovered and yet feeling as if it had always been there somehow. Beauty beholden and held in high esteem as they gazed deeply, longingly at each other until the sound of hands clapping loudly and twice snapped them out of it.
“While I appreciate such fervor and devotion to the craft, the music did cease for more than a few moments now,” the mistress went on to say as both dancers seemed embarrassed and knelt before the one whom they owed everything to. The serpentine, long-tailed, almighty lamia with the golden gaze, the sublime jewelry and the impossible allure went on to gaze upon them both in silence for a while before sighing. “Let us consider this a draw. I suppose the idea of rivalry, duels and the like was a silly one, given you are all joined together in devoting yourselves to me.”
There was shame in that, both Brownie and Red feeling that they had disappointed her when they got side-tracked. They tried not to glance at one another, to focus on the lascivious lamia and her tantalizing tail. The tip of it went on to observe, to lift chins and to poke around as the smell of hookah could be felt roaming around in its heat and bitterness. A smirk that showed her twin fangs, a chuckle and then the mistress spoke anew with a voice that seemed less factual, more of a rejoicing nature.
“You shall thus become a duo, as I've seen that you complement each other's personality and style quite well,” the mistress said as this news was both a bombshell of a revelation but also sounded like a true gift. Whatever link they felt they had could be further explored as Red and Brownie stared at one another before the mistress continued. “To improve, you shall be together always. Sleeping, eating, practicing, serving me...you shall form a bond through your adoration and obedience to me. I expect great things from you two.”
Thus did Red and Brownie go on to be together anew. Their mind still wiped, yet not their heart, their couple resided as the one who had meant to separate them and uphold her place went in a different direction. In the end, the mistress wanted only to be properly worshiped, obeyed and praised through servitude and lustful gazes. To show them mercy and generosity would achieve that quite well, using her knowledge and buried past to her advantage as both slaves went on to bow in respect and gratitude before her. They spoke in unison, two-as-one as if they ever had been, their voices loud yet clear.
“Thank you, great goddess, for your kind and plentiful gifts. We shall strive to be worthy of them!”
It was wondrous to see, a small hiss following another exhale of hookah smoke as the lamia stared at those two, as if their affection was new and granted to them by her own magnanimous nature. In a way, it actually was, for she then nodded and exhaled an extra thick amount of the hookah's own incense-born smoke their way before going for one little question, a final self-indulgence for the day.
“Whom do you serve and love above all?”
They both answered together, corrupted and yet loving hypnotized, coiled not physically yet mentally by their mistress.
“We serve Mistress Greina~”
One more victory for the perfect hostess, for the arch-lamia.