FREE USE in a Fantasy World

Ava would always remember the feeling she got when she saw the group of boys hiding in an alley, looking at her naked pictures.

It had been a week after she started helping Miss Stroud with her photography, a thing that was increasingly central in her life.

Just seeing those young men of all races coming together for that moment filled her with hope.

Of human, orcish, and even a few crossbreeds gathered around in unity of purpose and appreciation, staring at that elven beauty, face pressed beneath the ass of the pale woman who was always looking at the viewer, a smile curling her lip as if enticing them to watch her work. Desire her. Let her use them as she used the buxom blonde beneath her.

Ava beamed as she went home that night, in awe of the power of photography.

And she was far from alone.

Miss Stroud had an army of men she hired to hock the pictures at inns and in taverns.

They would stand with long dark coats, enticing crowds, opening their jackets to reveal the library of printed temptations stitched into the cloth.

A harem of debauchery contained in still images. Men were clamoring for more and more photos, which Ava and Miss Stroud had to diligently produce.

Each set of photographs was a different theme.

There was Spanking of the Naughty Maid, with Ava in a frilly maid’s uniform spilling tea on Miss Stroud’s breasts, then bent over her lap and punished with a crop, her peachy elf bottom crisscrossed with welt.

Even more popular was the Inquisitor’s Dark Delights, which featured Ava with her hands shackled behind her back, her bare pussy rubbing the wedge of the so-called wooden horse as she sat atop the triangular bench, her nipples clamped and plucked by the inquisitor.

That was Miss Stroud in a black cloak and a hideous white mask, her lovely body otherwise fully bared as she tortured Ava with relish.

But Ava’s favorite photo series, and the favorite of many customers, was, Madam’s Riding.

This featured Ava on her hands and knees with a bit in her mouth and a horse-tailed plug buried in her tight ass.

She recalled how Miss Stroud had exhausted her by riding her around and making her act like a horse.

The beautiful, dark-haired woman had made Ava cum again and again by spanking her clit with the soft leather tip of her crop.

Miss Stroud was the picture of loveliness with her breasts bare and her lower half clad in tight breeches and riding boots.

She made Ava lick the boots and then pulled down the breeches to make Ava eat her sweat-salted ass while masturbating for the camera.

The resulting pictures were thick with the intensity of her submission and the pleasure of it all.

As if the camera captured some unseen quality that she had actually felt on that day.

As always, every picture featured Miss Stroud looking directly at the camera, her eyes intense and bewitching.

Those who recognized Ava in the photographs were eager to buy some as personal mementos.

An orc named Akhil boasted that he had tasted the lovely elf beneath the pale woman.

Others had laughed at his story, yet burned with envy at the thought of the brute having his hands upon one so beautiful. Akhil knew the truth.

He smiled to himself as he looked at Bimbo on the Beach, and recalled his cock squeezed between the pair of lovely elf tits.

Akhil wasn’t Ava’s only past lover to catch wind of the photos being sold throughout New Larrin.

Graar heard the rumors of the unusually lifelike images being circulated featuring an elf and another woman engaged in forbidden pleasures.

The little goblin got hold of some when an unfortunate collector happened to wander down the wrong alley.

He pinned them up in his secret hiding place, admiring Ava and wondering when he might next have the chance to experience her body firsthand.

At first, he didn’t like the way this pale woman treated the elf, but then he became convinced it was only an act and he pleasured himself to the thought of Ava being spanked or being smothered beneath the woman’s ass.

His goblin spunk spattered the photos pinned to the wall. Ruined. He would have to get more photos.

He would have to collect them all.

Yet none of Ava’s acquaintances enjoyed the photographs more than Karl Krass.

He sat in his office with his new collection, studying the images with a jeweler’s glass on one eye and feeling his face go red and his trousers tighten. What was his star reporter up to with this woman and these photos?

He couldn’t say. Most editors would have fired her or at least called her in and demanded an explanation.

Some news rooms might be okay with their reporters sending out naughty pictures, but Krass did have some standards. Reporters shouldn’t make the news, in his opinion.

Only report it. Nonetheless, Karl Krass trusted Ava, whether he would admit it to her face or not. She’d never failed to get the story.

This time, her investigation was producing some very interesting by-products.

He chuckled, adjusting his trousers as he leaned over the photos spread across his desk, admiring one with Ava’s delicate elf cunt stuffed full of what appeared to be cooked pasta and her ass plugged with a fat carrot, while the dark-haired woman posed wearing only a chef’s hat and an apron.

Maybe, thought Karl, Ava was sending a message. He would have to study these images more thoroughly, and keep them in the locked drawer in his desk. He was always discovering something new.

And Ava was discovering many new things as well. Like the pleasure of the whip. The taste of leather biting as it was tightened.

The feel of ropes and toys so exquisite in the hands of a master she could barely walk home after their sessions, her legs turned to rubber. And always the insect eyes of the camera clicked and whirred, circling.

Circling.

Circling.

"We’ll need to start branching out," Miss Stroud mused one day, reclining on the sofa while Ava kneeled on the floor before her, cradling the pale woman’s foot and lovingly sucking on her toes as the camera clicked away.

"Mmm?" Ava said. "We will?"

Miss Stroud pushed her big toe back into Ava’s mouth, the elf obediently suckling it like she might a diminutive cock.

The dominatrix sighed in satisfaction, wriggling on the divan. "Yes. There’s hardly any space in the dancing hall for all our... mmm... new recruits."

That was true. Ava had seen dozens of new dancers on stage in the last few days, their skirts fluttering, their hips gyrating as they revealed their perky, plump breasts for the ogling men and women in the audience. The audience was packed too.

As if the photographs were somehow drawing men to the Hot House and persuading them to spend all their coins.

They sat slumped in chairs as the gorgeous dancers gyrated atop them. Sometimes they disappeared behind the curtains of the pleasure booths and staggered out with dazed expressions.

"Mmmmmmm," Ava sucked and bobbed her lips slightly on Miss Stroud’s toe as Lurin snapped another photo.

She popped her mouth free, looking up adoringly at the raven-haired beauty sitting on the stool. "Maybe you could open more clubs. Like franchises. They do that sometimes with restaurants. There are four different McDouglan’s in New Larrin."

"Yes, I like your thinking, my sweet," purred Miss Stroud, pushing Ava’s face with her foot as she moved its sister to Ava’s mouth. "Expand my reach. Yes, this could work very nicely.

Why, I could expand my operation to the entire kingdom before midwinter! And I owe so much of that to you. Lick, my little elf slave.

Lick my toes well and mistress might reward you. Ohhhhh, yes, that’s it. Suck each of them."

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