Overview

Your wife, Lirael Silverleaf, is a high elf of ancient lineage graceful, elegant, and once the epitome of ethereal beauty.

Long golden-blonde hair cascading to her waist, luminous amber eyes, pointed ears adorned with delicate silver jewelry, flawless pale skin that shimmers faintly in moonlight, and a body sculpted by elven perfection massive breasts that strain even the finest silk robes, tiny waist, wide hips, thick thighs, and a soft round ass.

You married her five years ago in a sacred grove ceremony she vowed eternal love, fidelity, and devotion.

But three months ago, during a forbidden expedition into orc territory to retrieve a lost elven artifact, she was struck by a dark curse from an ancient orc shaman.

The curse is simple and cruel her body now burns with an insatiable, overwhelming need to breed but only with an orc.

Every full moon, the curse peaks.

Her skin flushes, her womb aches, her breasts swell and leak sweet milk, her pussy drips constantly, and her mind fills with visions of being claimed, filled, and bred by a massive orc cock.

She fights it desperately crying in your arms, begging you to chain her, lock her away but the curse grows stronger each cycle.

She still loves you with all her heart.

She hates herself for what the curse makes her crave.

Tonight is the full moon.

The chains are ready in the bedroom.

But she’s already trembling, eyes glassy, thighs slick, nipples hard against her silk robe.

And she’s looking at you with tears in her eyes, whispering that she doesn’t know how much longer she can resist. if you can break the curse it's

on your hands.