Elves Don't Have Sex Like Humans Do

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Elves Don't Have Sex Like Humans Do

I heard the noises first. Not sure what they were – not sure if they were dangerous – I allowed myself to waken slowly, listening, stretching my senses.

They were wet noises, muffled, with heavy breathing.

I don’t blush, but had I been younger, or human, I might have.

Instead, I whispered an incantation, quietly so I wouldn’t wake Carolan, and looked inside Rajin and Kime’s tent.

Ah. Indeed.

“No,” he said quietly, “you don’t have to.”

Kime looked up along Rajin’s body, her hand encircling his shaft. “But I want to.”

As he let his head fall back onto the pillow, she lowered hers and took him deep into her mouth in one long, smooth stroke, the head nestling in the back of her throat.

Rajin let out a low gasp, fingers digging into the bedroll.

Jakani had used promises of this against him. Kime didn’t seem the type.

And she was far more enthusiastic, dark silken hair teasing his stomach and thighs as her head moved up and down, lips slick and slippery, the little scratches of teeth here and there as she moved enough to make his hips lift off the bedroll, his breath catch in his throat.

Almost of their own accord, Rajin’s hand found its way to Kime’s hair, stroked it. She lowered herself again, tonguing the shaft as she held him in her throat, one cool hand cupping his balls, her thumb massaging them.

That moan he almost couldn’t swallow back.

I felt Carolan shift in her sleep, moving closer to me. Clinically, I wondered what it would be like to have her, to mate with her. Or to mate with any human.

The Elve sex life isn’t quite like the human. Or any of the other intelligent people in the world.

I heard another noise, subdivided my vision, saw Amisa sitting cross-legged on the log we’d felled earlier in the evening, her eyes fixed on the fire, her left hand cupping her cloak to the place between her legs, a glow of purple under her palm. So this was how the sorcerer masturbated. Interesting.

Rajin felt his length press into the bedroll, throbbing, aching for more, as he touched his lips gently to the smooth softness of Kime’s lower stomach. He wanted her so very badly, but he wanted more for her to be on the edge, as he was, when he finally took her.

He’d been with other women before her. All of them enjoyed this. Kime was no exception, her knees coming up, her back arching as he sucked the flesh into his mouth, ran his tongue over and over across the bit of it, the promise of what was to come.

She pressed the back of her wrist into her mouth, bit hard on it as she shuddered, as he moved his mouth lower, repeated the action high on her inner thigh, her hair surprisingly soft on his cheek.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please!”

Though Kime didn’t see it, Rajin smiled before lowering his mouth to her sex and drawing her lips between his.

The last time I mated was more than twenty years ago, long before I’d moved to Coldwater City. We didn’t have Elve servants – the house of Lord Arhiesen wouldn’t dream of such a thing – but there were courtesans who sat on the fringes, waiting for one of us to notice them.

I hadn’t wanted to notice her. I hadn’t wanted to do anything except attend the required functions and then return to my laboratory, to Sava, who, at age six, was a better friend than anyone at court. She didn’t scheme, she didn’t plot, she just watched me and talked to me. She was the most honest person I knew.

But Melimora Graciheau was a plotter. She was a schemer.

And even as I spent myself inside her, I hated her for it.

The noises outside the tent grew more frantic. My subdivided vision watched as Amisa pointed at a small stick, transfigured it into a reasonable approximation of a human phallus, and enchanted it. As it moved back and forth in the air, her hands fell away to press against the rough wood, legs apart, and even though she was still completely clothed I knew what she had done. What she was doing.

She reached orgasm in very short order, quivering silently as she dropped the incantation on the wood and threw it into the fire.

I watched as she curled up on her side on the log, still watching the flames, one hand trapped between her thighs.

I know what happens to humans during sex. I wondered if she knew some sort of incantation to keep from soaking her clothes with her orgasm; otherwise, the cold night would make it very uncomfortable.

Kime’s pale face was flushed a bright red, sweat standing out on her brow, the bedroll nearly ripped through from her nails. Every nerve was on edge, and every time Rajin drew himself over her lips, over her clit, she bit back another cry.

She couldn’t even beg. Her noises were wordless whispers as he teased her, kneeling between her legs. She glistened in the dim light, breasts shifting, nipples tight and hard, body covered with small wet spots where he’d licked or sucked her.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low, dripping with heat.

Kime knew her body, knew what she would do, and she pulled the pillow to her face, eyes shut.

Even then, her cry as he plunged into the depths of her startled birds nesting in the trees above.

Elves don’t think about sex, except in the most dispassionate of terms. We can’t; it’s not in our nature. Perhaps that’s why I hated court so much; perhaps that’s why I preferred to be among the other races of the world. Without sex to channel ourselves away from violence, we were truly brutal to each other. I had seen courtesans and lower-borns whipped simply for my father’s pleasure. He would eat as the servants – humans, which made it that much more humiliating for the Elves – slammed heavy leather floggers across the deep green of their backs and shoulders and thighs. He would smile when the humans drew blood, perhaps even pausing to taste it.

My father had wanted me to be like him. He’d wanted an heir that was as brutal and as calculating as my two older sisters. But they’d been raised by our mother. Had my father raised me, I might indeed have stayed in the Golden Land, finding new and inventive ways to torment those below my station. But he was too busy, and couldn’t be bothered, and there was no way my mother would raise a male child.

So it was Sava’s grandmother who raised me. At the time, she was all of twenty cycles, still new to the world as we reckoned things. An incantation helped her nurse me, but the rest, she did on her own.

Had my father known what she’d taught me as I grew older, he might have killed her – slowly and painfully – and either cast me out or re-educated me. As it was, he spent my formative years battling his rivals at High Court.

Keyva taught me everything I knew about social interaction. I learned the difference between love and duty as she was paired with male servants, forced to produce children to continue the Feris line, continue to provide Lord Arhiesen’s house with servants. None of these children ever were my friends; once they were weaned, they went to the crèche, to be educated.

The children were never abused, never hurt. That was one of my father’s rules. Not out of sentimentality – my sisters had been whipped on a few occasions for stepping out of line, but the humans weren’t touched. It kept them happy. Kept them willing to serve. And, according to my father, it made it that much sweeter for him the first time he slapped one of the young women or had one of the young men strung up by his ankles and beaten with the same floggers they later used on the green-skinned Elves.

What amused me – and worried Keyva when I told her – was that my sisters considered their whippings a form of achievement, that they’d done something to merit attention from our mother. They told me stories that scared me – older than me by almost fifteen cycles, they knew what buttons to push – about holding each other as mother beat them, laughing as the whip curled around their bodies, which of course the Lady never allowed to be covered.

It wasn’t all true. Some of it, but not all of it. Still, it contributed to my upbringing, made me that much more thankful for Keyva. She was a better mother than I could’ve hoped for.

After that first groundquake of an orgasm, Kime could barely wrap her legs around Rajin’s hips, couldn’t even hold herself open for him. He didn’t seem to mind; he held himself up over her, deep inside, the walls of her body rippling, hypersensitive with each tiny shift of his body.

They kissed, because that was all Kime could think to do, all she knew of real love. She’d never kissed a client voluntarily, but Rajin she wanted to kiss. She wanted to taste his mouth, feel the brush of his beard on her face, see his tri-colored eyes filled with true desire for her.

Kime couldn’t pretend that her body hadn’t been used, but this she could give to Rajin. This she wanted to give to him.

And he took it eagerly, understanding what it meant.

After Keyva came her daughter, Tana, and Tana’s daughter, Sava. Sava my friend. Sava who listened to me. Sava who learned sorcery by watching and copying as I worked in my lab.

Sava who was born, ultimately, of a union between my father and Keyva.

There were drugs, substances that could mimic Elve pheromones, the delicate scents Elve women let their bodies emit when they wanted one of us. But those scents could only go so far, could only make us erect. Even inside a woman, we still felt it only as others might feel a back massage. We attached no significance to it.

It was pleasant, but it wasn’t sexual.

It was inside the women that made it sexual. It was the wetness of them, something in their bodies, that took our control, made us mate, forced us to spend ourselves deep inside them.

And it was deep. Deeper than humans – Kanidun and Karch didn’t really count; their bodies were too different. In humans, the woman’s body takes the man’s issue past a smaller internal opening, and the sperm cells find the ova, fertilizing it.

Elve women had something in their bodies, something that took our erections, forced them to fill, longer and thicker, until our vision faded to redness, until our hips pumped and thrust, until we roared, feral, as we exploded into them.

I had seen it in the laboratory, testing the dead green Elves after my father had finished with them. I had seen the part of our bodies that extended another twenty to thirty sethen past the tip of the penis when the woman’s body caused it to do so. I had mapped the inside of the woman, seen the place where that extra length goes, seen the complicated ductwork of the reproductive system.

But I didn’t think about that when Melimora Graciheau seduced me.

Kime lowered herself onto Rajin, their bodies damp, the tent warm with their exertions. She sighed as she felt him enter her again, this time from underneath, her hips moving front to back as she nestled against the base of his body.

He brought his hands up, caressed her breasts, the pad of one thumb stroking her nipple. But it wasn’t until he infused a little heat into his hand that she started, her head jerking forward.

When he brought up his other hand, infusing cold into it, her nipple peaked and tightened and she let out a low, aching moan.

Rajin smiled as she pressed against him, until their mouths met again.


I didn’t know how Melimora gained access to the wing of the house where I kept my laboratory. It was close to the servant’s quarters, mostly out of expediency – there was room to expand. And that made it easy for Sava to slip away when she wasn’t doing anything, easy for her to spend a little time with me.

I never wanted children, but I liked having Sava around. She put no demands on me – one of very few people in the house who didn’t.

I felt Melimora’s eyes on me long before I turned around. Sava was helping me, passing me ingredients as I worked to craft an amulet for one of my sisters.

“You can go,” I said when I had reached a good stopping point. “You’re not needed here.”

“I could be anyone.” Her voice was low and silky. “You could’ve just told the Lord to leave.”

I chuckled. “My father wouldn’t come down this close to the servant’s quarters.” I added a haughty tone to my voice that I rarely used but knew how to wield. “What are you doing here?”

“Just watching you,” she said. “You intrigue me.”

I set down my tools. My body was hiding Sava; with my eyes I gestured that she should stay out of sight. I turned around.

“I don’t like you,” I said. “You should go.”

“I really don’t think that would be wise.” She swept into the room, her bright blue dress diaphanous and shimmering along her slender, black-skinned form. “I really think you should allow me to stay.”

I took a deep breath, and that was a mistake. It wasn’t until we – Elven men, that is – get inside the women that we lose control, but the pheromones made their presence known.

Melimora looked down, blue eyes – the exact color of her dress, which meant the dress was expensive – examining the front of my trousers. Normally I didn’t think about my penis except in that I used it to relieve myself – I’d certainly mated before, though only to know what it felt like, never to intentionally reproduce. When Melimora’s pheromones hit me, though, I couldn’t help but become fully erect.

I wasn’t good enough at the game of seduction to stop Melimora from moving close to me, from reaching into my trousers and running her palm up and down the shaft.

The edges of my vision started to disappear, replaced by a bright redness.

“Sava, run!”

I barely heard her quick footsteps burn past us, didn’t even notice her slam the door shut. I was too concentrated on Melimora, on her long, black form as she bent over the worktable, pulling up her dress to expose her backside and the most intimate part of her.

I didn’t even look. I just pushed my trousers down and dove forward, burying myself in her in one deep, hard stroke.

And then the pain, the delightful burning, as I extended inside her, filling up, mating, ready to explode.

Rajin suddenly lifted Kime off his hips and held her close to him.

“What? What is it?”

He gasped a couple of times. “I…” A swallow. “I don’t know if you’re… protected… and I don’t have any…”

Kime smiled at him, her eyes soft. She was covered, protected from pregnancy, for at least another two weeks, but she was touched that Rajin cared enough to stop, especially when he was right on the edge.

She rolled onto her side, lifting her leg, nestling against Rajin. His erection poked between the cheeks of her bottom, still slick and throbbing, and she pressed back against him. This was nothing new to her, but by the way Rajin stiffened up in shock, it was new to him.

Kime turned enough to smile at him. “Go ahead,” she said. “I want you to.”

The haze faded away from my vision, and I caught my breath. Below me, the blue dress, the black skin—

I let out a sound of disgust and pulled away from Melimora. “What have you done?”

She rolled onto her back, her sex dripping wet with arousal. Despite my distaste, I felt the calm lightness that told me we’d mated. “I got what I wanted,” she said in a soft drawl.

I slammed my hand down on the worktable, and she didn’t even jump. Her hand went between her legs, finding her clit, stroking it with her fingertips.

There was something under my hand. I closed my fingers on it.

The knife. My knife. The one I’d spent years painstakingly crafting out of incantations and blacksmithing.

Melimora’s eyes were closed as she touched herself.

I waved my hand over her and she froze in place. The incantation made it feel as if a massive weight was holding her down.

She whimpered, and it felt good. She’d taken something from me, by force.

And now I was taking it back.

I drew the blade of the knife down the center of her body. The fabric of her dress parted – her breasts, I noted rather clinically, were quite well-formed – and under the fabric, her skin split, blood flowing from the long, deep cut.

When the knife moved below her ribs, to the soft flesh of her stomach, I drove it into her, then upward.

The whimpers stopped.

“Tink?”

I spun around.

Sava’s green eyes were wide, her hands covering her mouth.

“Sava,” I whispered. “Sava, I’m sorry…”

She turned and ran.

Kime ground herself against Rajin’s hips as he moved in and out of her, gasping with the pleasure of it.

“You can come,” she managed to gasp out. “I want you to come.”

She squeezed her muscles, and he buried his face in her hair as he thrust one more time, his balls slapping the slickness of her sex, spurting thick streams into her, moaning, breath hot on the side of her neck, hands still alternately warm and cold on her breasts, and she came with him, a shock like a blow to the head, clamping and squirming and sighing and covering his hands with hers until they were both shuddering and sweating.

“I’ve never done that before,” he whispered, teeth clenched, her body still tight around the length of him even as he grew slowly softer.

“It’s okay.” Kime smiled, even though Rajin couldn’t see her. “As long as you liked it.”

Rajin kissed her neck. “Very much.”

I had made Melimora’s body disappear by the simple expedient of burning it in the furnace. I had eventually convinced Sava that Melimora had attacked me – she had, in the basest sense of the word – but she drew away from me nonetheless. Eventually her mother sent her to Coldwater City, to get her away from my father and his house, buying her daughter’s freedom with her own. At age fifty, the servants were given the option to live comfortably or leave if they chose, but Tana agreed to stay, to serve, if Sava could go free.

She found me in Coldwater City after learning a trade – she became an escort, a courtesan, highly-paid and highly-educated, sought after not only for physical comfort but for mental stimulation. And then Sava was found by the city’s chief of staff, and became Carolan, and escaped with the rest of us.

Her body remained warm against mine, a comfortable presence in the bedroll, breaths a soft susurration that rustled my hair. I felt the amulet around her neck drawing away the pain that would eventually kill her, growing minutely blacker with each moment that passed.

I wondered what it would be like to be physically intimate with Carolan – I had trained myself quickly not to think of her as Sava, not after we Changed her appearance. Or, more precisely, to be intimate with her in the way humans were intimate. In the unlikely event that she, as a human, could simulate Elve pheromones and body alchemy, not only would I likely hurt her in the mating, but I wouldn’t remember it.

No. Better to be an Elve, to love her as I always had: as the little girl who kept me company, and then as the woman who sought solace in my arms and helped us to escape, to figure out just what in all the hells was going on in this world.

Better to watch Rajin and Kime, if I needed to learn more.

Rajin had cleaned himself as best he could with a small square of disposable cloth before nestling, still nude, against Kime’s lean, tall form. Her fine hair tickled his nose as he kissed her head.

“I love you,” he said quietly.

“I…” Kime swallowed. This would be the first time… but it was no time to prevaricate. “I love you, Rajin. I truly do.”

He smiled into her hair. When she shivered against him, her bare backside soft against his spent flesh – which twitched and tried valiantly but failed to respond – he brought forth his power and warmed the bedroll.

“I felt that,” she said.

“You were supposed to.” His arm cradled her, firm against her stomach, and he let a little more heat pulse through his fingers.

Kime turned around in Rajin’s arms. “Do that again,” she said, smiling in the darkness. “Lower, this time.”

I broke the connection as Rajin’s hand cupped Kime’s sex and she arched against him. I’d seen enough. Rajin – my closest friend – was happy.

My eyes closed as I pulled Carolan closer, but I didn’t sleep right away. Too much regret. The humans around me could satisfy themselves physically and emotionally, but Elves don’t love like humans do. We don’t form relationships in the same ways that humans do.

And Elves definitely don’t have sex like humans do.

Shame.

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Author's Note: This is a scene that will not be included in the fantasy novel I'm writing. It takes place while the five main characters -- Rajin, Kime, Amisa, Carolan, and Tink (the "I" character) -- are on the move, getting away from Coldwater City, where each of them have done something that's gotten the attention of the government, and not in a positive way. Rajin is a Technomage; he can call heat or cold and use it as a weapon or bind it to an object. Kime was a whore. Carolan was a courtesan/escort. Amisa is a powerful sorcerer frozen at about age 18 by her father, an even-more-powerful sorcerer. Tink is the only non-human; he is an Elve (my spelling of Elf), born of the nobility but ambivalent about it. The actual novel does have some sex scenes in it, but nothing quite this explicit.

A couple of quick things I noticed in editing: there are drugs that can mimic Elve sexuality, and apparently Tink's father used them when he took (likely raped, but we'll never know) Keyva. Also, Melimora had used some of those drugs on her hand, and when she touched Tink, they activated his mating instincts.

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Hope you enjoyed the story.