Chapter 12: Laefandell Falls

Maloth leaned back on his elbows with a satisfied sigh. He was sitting on his huge bed inside his tent, his crimson thighs spread to accommodate Shaelor. The statuesque Morgai knelt on the floor before him, her mountainous breasts enveloping his cock. The deep orange caverns of her eyes glowed hotly as she gazed up at him, contrasting with her silver-grey skin in a most appealing manner. Her plump, dark lips curved enticingly before she dipped her head to take his crown into her mouth.

Scattered about the floor were Maloth’s concubines, all naked and glistening with sweat as they writhed together in the throes of lust and desire. Baelor was in their midst; the Morgai had done well recently, and Maloth had seen fit to reward Baelor with a night among Maloth’s harem, while Shaelor’s prize was Maloth himself.

Currently Baelor was on his back, his brawny arms outstretched to either side. Adelain was astride his hips, her smooth ebony pussy impaled on his cock. Kreya knelt behind the Mor’elda, fondling her fat tits as she rode Baelor. Ellerion was perched on his face, while Glinda and Morana knelt over a hand each, so the Morgai could plunder their cunts with his fingers.

Mali lay spread-eagled on the floor between Maloth’s bed and the others, she was breathing heavily, her enormous breasts shifting on her dusky chest as she caught her breath. Baelor’s seed leaked from her bald cunt; the Morgai had given her a most vigorous fucking only moments ago.

All of Maloth’s women were completely naked save for the thin black collars he had made up for them. The leather strips symbolised their status as Maloth’s property. They were bound to Maloth’s will only, however, and any command they made among the army was obeyed as readily as if Maloth himself had delivered it.

Shaelor was skilled with her mouth and tongue, and Maloth felt his cock twitch and release a trickle of his seed. The intricate black runes on the busty Morgai’s skin flashed orange-red briefly as her body absorbed his essence. She moaned in approval, sending pleasurable vibrations through his member.

Shenla entered the tent, then, trailed by her three ahk’sheth - Barrog, Peldin and Torvin, the three men whose souls she owned. The ahk’sheth obediently took up spaces against the tent wall while Shenla swayed in. In true Shenla fashion, she was garbed in nothing more than a few scraps of white silk that contrasted pleasingly with her rose complexion.

Maloth’s cock flexed inside Shaelor’s mouth as he watched his sister approach. There was not a woman alive of any race that could ever hope to match her beauty, or her allure. She stopped just behind Shaelor, winking at Maloth and smiling as she turned her head to run her eyes over the orgy transpiring nearby.

“Having fun?” She asked in a smoky voice when she turned back. Her eyes were the shade of deepest twilight, and they glittered in the lamplight. She stood with a round hip cocked and her abundant chest thrust forward, a pose that was quite natural for the buxom Demon.

“As much as I am able, sister,” Maloth replied, taking a handful of Shaelor’s snowy hair and pushing her further down over his tool.

Shenla smiled and licked her lips as she moved around a little so she could watch Maloth’s meat disappear inside the Morgai’s throat. It made an obscene bulge, but Shaelor handled it effortlessly.

“Is the army ready to march?” Maloth asked Shenla.

“It is,” she replied with a nod as she dropped her full, plump ass down on the bed beside Maloth and tangled her black-nailed fingers in Shaelor’s hair, taking control over the Morgai. Shaelor moaned in approval; she loved being owned and dominated. She would make an excellent addition to Maloth’s harem, but unfortunately the nature of her existence made that impossible.

“Then it is time for us to move,” Maloth said with a grunt as he relinquished his control and allowed his own release. Shaelor moaned again as her mouth filled with Maloth’s black seed. Her runes flared brightly as his essence empowered her. She could survive for days on a single load from Maloth; much longer than from any other man. Just as Baelor benefited more from Shenla’s attentions than from others, Maloth’s harem included. The Morgai were a useful tool as long as you could keep them energised, and around Maloth’s camp, that was never a problem.

“Are we still agreed on my plan?” Shenla enquired as she squeezed his balls with her free hand, coaxing as much come from from them as possible.

Maloth inclined his head. “Yes. You may have Caeledrin for your own, sister. In fact, it may be vital to our cause. Ellerion!” He snapped.

Immediately, the curvaceous Tar’elda lifted herself from Baelor’s face and hurried over. She stood straight-backed with her hands clasped behind her. Her beautiful, pale face was flushed from her recent pleasures, and her breasts – which rivalled Shenla’s in size and shape – heaved as she caught her breath. “Yes, my Lord?”

“Your husband,” Maloth began. “What will he do when he sees my force approaching?”

“He is powerful, but lazy,” Ellerion replied. She eyed Maloth hungrily, her desire for him almost palpable. “He will not wish to fight, as it will create work for him to do. He will also not wish to let go of his power, or his comforts. I suspect he will choose to fight, but at the very least, he will want negotiations.”

Shaelor released Maloth’s cock from the confines of her mouth with a loud slurp. Winking up at him, she rose from her position between his knees and made for Mali, whom was just beginning to stir from her nap.

With a salacious grin, Shenla reached out and pulled Ellerion down into her lap, though she made sure to keep the High Elf facing Maloth. Ellerion moaned as Shenla began to fondle her tits, squeezing the large, pale globes and gently pinching the small pink nipples that capped them.

“You’ve got such wonderful tits,” Shenla said lustily as she had her way with Ellerion’s willing body.

“Thank you, my Lady,” Ellerion replied breathily. She shuddered as Shenla took a stiff nipple into her mouth and suckled on it noisily. “I think it would be in your best interests to invade outright,” she continued between gasps of pleasure. “I think Caeledrin will fold quickly once he realises the vast numbers we bring against him.”

Maloth nodded. “Good to know. He stood, casting his gaze around the room. “Finish up!” He barked. “We march as soon as we can strike camp. See to your duties at once.”

There was a scramble as bodies untangled. They all hurried from the tent, leaving Maloth and Shenla alone. In a blur of movement, Shenla tore her scant garment away and leaped at him. Her smooth limbs enveloped him and her steamy pussy was engulfing his cock in less than two heartbeats.

“Your power makes me so wet,” she groaned against his ear. “Fuck me. We have time.”

He supported her with his hands beneath her ass as she began to undulate against him. Her hard, black nipples scraped against his chest, and her teeth nipped against his neck as she used him for her own pleasure.

Maloth allowed it, for being inside Shenla was a feeling unmatched by any other. Thunder from the perpetual storm above Palistair crashed outside as they fucked wildly, bestially. Blood began to trickle down over his chest from where Shenla had grown careless with her teeth, but he reveled in the sharp pain. The wound would close in moments, anyway.

She hooked her hands behind his neck and leaned back, giving Maloth leverage to thrust powerfully. Each drive of his hips pushed her away only to be brought crashing back with the slap of skin on skin as their bodies met once again.

Shenla screamed in ecstasy as they fucked, and Maloth found himself bellowing with animal rage, sexual and wild. Her pussy gripped him like a vice, and her copious fluids began to drip down over his smooth balls to the furs on the tent floor below.

As one, they reached the peak of their pleasure. Maloth roared as he erupted inside Shenla, and she answered with a choked off cry as her body collapsed into a series of violent convulsions. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth remained open, though no sound escaped. Maloth held her as they came together, his cock spasming for much longer than it did for anyone else.

When she recovered, she lifted herself forward and pressed her lush chest back against his. “Thank you, brother,” she whispered. “Your cock is always the best. I love you.”

Maloth stiffened. She’d never used that word before. That word was dangerous. That word was death. Lifting Shenla off his cock, he set her back on her feet. He met her gaze. Her eyes were full of respect, and awe, and something else. Something that made him decidedly uncomfortable. Whatever he felt for Shenla, it was not love, and it never could be.

“It is time you took your fourth ahk’sheth,” he told Shenla. “And time I took my next kingdom.”

The gleaming, silvery walls of Laefandell looked much less impressive beneath a dark and tumultuous sky than they did in the sunlight. At least, Maloth assumed so; he’d never seen the city by day. Still, the three-pace thick stone wall stood fifty feet high and surrounded the vast city completely. Spires and towers rose up from the other side, reaching for the roiling clouds like fingers of silver and gold. The massive, arched gates of gold-streaked bronze stood closed, of course. Caeledrin had yet to even send out a messenger.

How much wealth did the Elves possess to build such lavish structures? Maloth smiled as he imagined what he could do with it. He could purchase as many soldiers as required with enough gold. Not that he needed it; every spear at his disposal had been acquired through nothing more than cunning, manipulation and the use of his gifts.

He watched the city from where he sat atop Shadow, maybe a quarter mile from the city wall. The big black stallion as still and focused as his rider. The land surrounding Laefendell was completely cleared of trees for miles around, and the grass was kept no more than knee high, which meant the Elves could always see enemies coming long before they arrived.

Elves had good eyes, and not seeing an opportunity for a surprise attack, Maloth had chosen to let Caeledrin see the full might of his army. The hordes of Risen, Orcs and Dark Elves were gathered behind Maloth, ready and eager to spill High Elf blood. Even without Maloth’s influence, it did not take much to incite hate between the three major nations of Palistair. It was why Maloth had done so well in this land.

The Amun’noroth - the Hill Giants – had finally arrived a couple of days ago, disgruntled and reluctant to fight. They were a peaceful people, and had only agreed to fight for Maloth because he’d tricked them into it. They’d sent their strongest fighters, both male and female, but Maloth had sensed their lack of dedication to him as soon as they’d arrived.

A night with Maloth and Shenla had solved that particular problem. Shenla had ‘soothed’ the concerns of the male Giants with Mali’s help, while Maloth took care of the women. It was almost a shame; now that the Giants had tasted a Demon’s charms, an addiction would form, and they would gradually become sex-mad, eventually becoming useless.

Either way, they could be killed and brought back as Risen, which might actually be better. No free will to get in the way.

The wind blustered, pulling at Maloth’s leather coat. It was unrelieved black, with a tall, stiff collar. Maloth had taken a shine to the garment when Shenla had presented it to him several days ago. He wore it with no shirt beneath, leaving him bare-chested. His breeches were also the finest black leather, as were his knee-high boots, though they were tooled in silver around the turned-down tops.

His hand rested on Bane’s long hilt as he waited. Tar’elda moved along the top of the wall, their polished armour and lances glinting in the frequent flashes of lightning. The constant storms would have them unnerved, and Maloth was the storm. Mere walls and soldiers could not keep him from what he wanted.

Shenla was on his left, mounted and dressed in a black gown that was so sheer it was transparent. Her lush form was completely on display for anyone who cared to look, and many did. The gown was lightly embroidered with flowing lines of silver and split along the outside of each leg all the way up to her hips. She turned and winked at him when she saw him looking.

A few short paces behind Shenla were her ahk’sheth; they were never far from her. The three men were shirtless but armed, ready for combat. They didn’t really require any armour; any wounds they took today would heal quickly thanks to Shenla’s bond.

Maloth’s own ahk’sheth were back a little further, surrounded by soldiers that had been given explicit instructions to protect the women or die slowly and terribly. Morana, Adelain and Kreya had hand-picked their guards from their most trusted men.

The only one not among the ahk’sheth was Ellerion, who was on Maloth’s right, mounted on a sleek white mare and dressed in the finest silks the camp had available. She looked every inch the queen, despite the lack of a crown on her brow. Her fine golden hair had been ornately braided, and it hung down to just above her ample bottom.

If Caeledrin laid eyes on his wife, Maloth was hoping he would open the gates and let them ride right in. He was counting on it, actually. As soon as Maloth had signaled Ellerion to ride up beside him, a flurry of motion had exploded atop the wall. Yes, Elves had excellent eyes; they had recognised their queen.

Finally, the gates cracked down the middle and parted slowly. A single rider – a woman, by the looks – emerged from the city at a canter.

She was not hurrying, but not wasting time, either. Maloth expected this as one of several possible moves by Caeledrin. He would be eager to discover Maloth’s intentions, but also unwilling to appear desperate. A single rider was an interesting play, and a woman more so. Sending a strong force would have only risked a battle, while sending a delegation would have meant that Caeledrin respected Maloth.

Sending this single rider was a statement that Caeledrin was merely curious, not concerned, about either Ellerion or Maloth. At least, that’s what he wanted Maloth to think.

“Your husband may be cleverer than I assumed,” Maloth said to Ellerion as the rider approached.

“Clever, yes, but lazy and greedy, my Lord.” Ellerion replied, not taking her eyes off the Tar’elda heading their way. “The latter two will be his downfall. He will try and recover me, if he can, for he likes to show me off to his sycophants, but he will not mourn my absence, or my death, if it occurs.”

“Excellent,” Maloth told her. “Greed is my favourite vice in a foe.”

“Queen Ellerion?” The woman called as she reined in her chestnut mare a safe distance away. She was stunning, with flowing golden hair and large, sapphire eyes. She was almost as pleasing to the eyes as Ellerion. Pity Maloth could only bind one Tar’elda at a time.

“It is I, Velesande,” Ellerion answered smoothly. “It warms my heart to see you.”

Velesande bowed deeply in her saddle. Her silk robes were loose and diaphanous, and an impressive amount of cleavage was displayed as she bent forward. “Are you well, my Queen?” The wind tugged at her hair and robes, and she eyed the roiling sky nervously, as if afraid of a lightning strike.

“Quite,” Ellerion replied. “I seek an audience with Caeledrin immediately, Velesande. I am accompanied by a new allies for the Tar’elda. Caeledrin will want to meet with them at once.”

Velesande eyed Maloth and Shenla uncertainly. “Highest One, I am afraid that the King is concerned at the presence of Orcs and Mor’elda at our walls, not to mention the Mor’tirith.”

Ellerion did not bat an eyelid. “That is understandable, she said smoothly. “However, much has happened since I left. We have the opportunity to unify all of Palistair, and I would not see it wasted.”

“As you say, Highest One,” Velesande said. Her pretty eyes fell on Maloth again. “And whom do you travel with, if I am to announce you to the King?”

“I am Lord Maloth Stormbringer,” Maloth answered before Ellerion could. He extended a tendril of lust and touched it to Velesande’s heart. Her breath hitched, and her gaze changed from suspicious to smoky, then back again as she fought the sudden surge of arousal in her body.

Maloth grunted in minor annoyance at her resistance, then sent a volley of dark spears that penetrated her spirit like arrows sinking into their target. Velesande whimpered under the assault and swayed in her saddle, but righted herself before tumbling out.

The look she gave Maloth, vulnerable yet sultry, told him her will had crumbled before his power. He didn’t bother trying to bind her as ahk’sheth; he’d already tested Shenla’s discovery – that only one ahk’sheth from a particular race could be bound at a time – extensively. Shame. Velesande was exactly the type of woman Maloth desired.

“Velesande,” he began. “You will lead us to an audience with the king at once.”

The gorgeous Elf took a shaky breath. “As you wish, my Lord.”

Laefandell was a large city that occupied a great deal of land, and once inside, Maloth could see why. Everywhere he looked, there was space. Wide avenues and generous walkways ran between the buildings, none of which were placed within twenty yards of one another. Perfectly manicured trees and shrubs grew along every street. Every structure Maloth saw boasted elegant stonework with elaborate, flowing lines and scrollwork etched into it, giving it the feel of having grown naturally, rather than carved. The horses’ hooves rang like chimes on the stone pavement, the only sound Maloth could hear in the otherwise silent city.

As soon as Velesande had led Maloth, Shenla and Ellerion through the gate, a small force of armed Tar’elda had surrounded them, cutting them off from escape or deviating from Velesande’s lead as the gates drew closed.

Maloth suppressed a smirk. These fools could not stop him if he wished to leave. He let them enjoy their fantasy. Even now, he could sense the lust, the hedonism in the air. It was almost palpable. Maloth was willing to bet the High Elves were even more promiscuous than the Orcs.

On Shadow’s back, he was tall enough to see for quite a distance around, and everywhere his eyes fell on Elves, they stared back at him with suspicion and wariness. Maloth noted the inherent beauty of the Elves; they were a truly attractive people, with their flowing hair and their proclivity for flowing, wispy silks in light hues of blue and green and yellow.

It took the better part of an hour to reach the palace, an enormous, sprawling structure with countless spires and domes gracing its upper reaches. Thunder rumbled threateningly above as their escort came to a stop at the base of the massive, wide steps that led to the huge palace doors.

Maloth dismounted smoothly, smiling up at the sky as jagged lightning crawled a web across the churning black clouds.

“This way, my Lord,” Velesande chimed in her lilting voice once her feet were on the ground. A few of the Elvish guards frowned at her failure to acknowledge her own queen, but nothing was said. The circle around them tightened as they ascended the stairs and crossed the threshold into the palace proper.

Maloth took careful note of the palace interior, surmising that Caeledrin was not one to skimp on lavishness. Rich carpets covered the smooth marble floors, and expensive tapestries and artworks the walls. Many of the latter were depictions of Elves in various states of undress or engaging in some form of sex, with one partner or more. Sometimes many more.

Shenla and Maloth shared a glance as they walked, and Shenla gave him the ghost of a wink.

Shenla – Palace of the Moon, Laefandell, Palistair

Shenla could feel the eyes of the guards on her body as she walked beside Maloth. Ellerion trailed just behind while Velesande led the way. She made sure to keep them as distracted as possible by radiating a trickle of her power outward, infecting the all-male force with quietly persistent lust. She hardly needed to, not with this gown on. Her body was almost enough on its own to addle the wits of most men.

She didn’t use enough of her power to cause a fuss; she didn’t think she was strong enough to handle many more than the two dozen guards surrounding her, so she was careful not to overdo it and pull even more attention to herself and her brother. Sure, she could fuck them all to sleep, but that would not do, here in the middle of the palace, so she chose a more subtle method of stacking the odds.

Something irked her, though she tried not to give it any air. She’d confessed her love for Maloth, back in camp, and he had not returned the words. She told herself the words didn’t matter, that of course he loved her back, but there had been something in his eyes, a hesitance, and it had been trying to worm its way into her heart for the last several hours.

She decided to give him time. He had much to think about, and he would probably come to her later and reveal his feelings. Siblings or no, what she had with him was special. They were connected in a way that surpassed even the ahk’sheth, and the transcendent sex was a reflection of that.

They traveled up spiraling walkways and down wide corridors with ceilings as high as two Noroth together. Finally, Velesande stopped at an archway leading into a long room. She turned to face them, but her eyes only had space for Maloth. Shenla had felt him infect her, and he had not been gentle. She was his now almost as much as an ahk’sheth was.

“This is where the king will receive you, my Lord,” the chesty Elf said with a deep bow. Shenla eyed the displayed cleavage appreciatively; it wasn’t a patch on her own, but nor was it inconsiderable.

“Very good,” Maloth replied in his smooth, bass voice. The sound of it sent tingles into Shenla’s nipples and pussy, and made her heart skip.

The armed escort remained around Velesande and the visitors until they entered the room fully, then they dispersed to take up positions against the walls, along which many more of their brethren were arrayed, all armed and armoured.

The room was long, with white marble columns down each side and a high, vaulted ceiling. There was a dais at the far end, supporting an ornate throne apparently made of gold-streaked silver. Shenla’s lips curved with approval when she saw the man sitting that throne. He was tall and beautiful, with flowing golden hair, broad shoulders and a deep chest. He was garbed in sleeveless robes, and his exposed arms were thicker with muscle than many of the Elves she’d seen.

Caeledrin Velenar radiated power. Startling emerald eyes studied them each in turn as they approached the dais. Shenla noted the glint in his gaze when his eyes fell on her. There were few men whose eyes did not carry that shine when they saw her.

Caeledrin’s expression did not change when he looked at Maloth, but the light of avarice in his eyes quickly became wariness. So, he knew danger when he saw it? Not a fool, then. Good; Shenla liked her men smart as well as pretty and strong.

“Velesande,” Caeledrin began in a rich, deep voice. “You have returned safely. What word of my wife?”

Ellerion stepped out from behind Maloth, then. “I am here, Caeledrin,” she announced. She stood straight-backed, chin held proudly high.

Caeledrin quirked a fine eyebrow as he looked his wife over. “And where do you claim to have been, this past year, my love? The kingdom has been worried for you.” It was obvious that Caeledrin already knew Ellerion was in the city; runners had been sent as soon as they’d cleared the gates. Apparently Caeledrin wished to play ignorant.

A sudden tension permeated the air. Shenla felt as if there were a knife’s point just an inch away from the skin between her shoulder blades. She watched the king and queen as a silent exchange passed between them. A glance at Maloth showed him relaxed and confident, though that was no different from how he appeared most of the time.

“I have been most productive, my King,” Ellerion replied smoothly. “I was captured by Gor’dur Orcs, but rescued by Lord Maloth, here.” She gestured to Maloth, who offered Caeledrin the briefest inclination of his head. From what Shenla knew of politics in this land, that was nothing short of a slap in the king’s face.

“Lord Maloth,” Ellerion continued. “Is on a quest to unify the people of Palistair against an impending threat coming from the south, from Amindaer.”

Caeledrin’s eyes flicked to Maloth, then back to his wife. “And just how does this Lord Maloth,” he began, investing the name with scorn. “Intend to undo over a thousand years of hate, mistrust, and violence?”

From where she stood behind Maloth’s tall figure, Shenla brushed Caeledrin with a tendril of lust. Shockingly, she found it take no purchase. Caeledrin was less greedy than he appeared, it seemed. She would have to try something a little bolder. She wished she had Maloth’s strength, but that would come, in time.

Maloth answered the king’s question, his tone a hairsbreadth from arrogant. “I have an army outside your walls, as you have noticed. I did not bring them to threaten, but to display the value of my support. Among that army is none other than Adelain of Eredor, Morana of the Gor’dur, and Kreya Veskash of the Mor’tirith.”

Caeledrin leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Let us assume for a moment that you are being truthful, Maloth. I would ask, then, where are Beshok, Berenor and Morin?”

“They met with ... unfortunate accidents.” Maloth replied as if saying there was rain coming later.

To Shenla’s surprise, Caeledrin barked a laugh. “If only it were true! Wife,” he said to Ellerion. “Please cease this strange fellow’s time-wasting and speak the truth to your husband.”

“He speaks honestly, my King,” Ellerion replied, ascending the dais to stand beside Caeledrin. “I saw their bodies with my own eyes.”

Caeledrin eyed his wife for a moment, then turned back to Maloth. “If you have done this thing, as my wife says,” he said softly. “Then you have provided a great service to Laefandell. I will, of course, need to meet with the women in question first.”

“It will be done,” Maloth agreed. Shenla wondered when he was going to strike. Had he changed his plan since entering the city?

“Tell me about yourself, Lord Maloth,” Caeledrin demanded, leaning back in his throne casually. “I find your colouring unique, as is your companion’s, back there. I assume you are kin? You are not Orcs, or Elves. Perhaps you have some Noroth blood in you, with that height. Where do you hail from?”

Shenla felt Maloth bristle at Caeledrin’s unintentional slur. How dare he suggest they were the spawn of some common creature? She glanced at the guards lining each side of the hall. They appeared tense, ready to close in at any moment. One word from Caeledrin...

The slightest movement of Maloth’s head was all the indication Shenla needed that it was time to step fully into Caeledrin’s view. She did so, smiling proudly as the king’s eyes widened again. She had dressed purposefully, the sheer gown displaying her body to maximum effect.

“My sister, Shenla,” Maloth said. “She was most eager to meet the King of Laefandell.”

Shenla felt the spike of arousal from Caeledrin as his eyes raked over her. She lashed out with her power, dark tendrils visible only to her and Maloth striking forward. Many of them rebounded, but a few penetrated his spirit, appearing to Shenla as if they were sinking into his body.

Now, at least, she had some small influence over him. His strength was rather remarkable, considering how Ellerion had described him. She bowed deeply, well aware of the way her tits bulged against the front of her gown and threatened to spill free of the neckline. “It is a great honour, your Highness,” she purred as she straightened. A few of the guards cleared their throats at her performance.

Caeledrin said nothing for long moments, then sighed. “It is as I suspected, then.” He stood, and Shenla realised for the first time how tall he was. Another few inches and he would be at eye level with Maloth. On the dais, he towered over them all.

“Whatever abilities the two of you possess,” he began, raising a hand. As one, the hundred guards in the room took a single step forward and lowered their spears, aiming them at Maloth and Shenla. “You have somehow used them to gain control of the Gor’dur, the Mor’elda, the Amun’noroth and the Mor’tirith.” He looked to Ellerion, a disappointed expression crossing his face. “And it appears my wife was not spared, either.”

The guards took another step forward. Maloth surveyed each side of the room nonchalantly, as if a hundred soldiers were no bother to him. And perhaps they weren’t. Shenla hadn’t seen him fight before.

“I give you this chance to kneel,” Maloth said loudly, his voice booming around the hall. “And to serve me.” He waved a hand, and every female guard in the room suddenly gasped and dropped her spear. With confusion painting their faces, they began to moan as if they were being pleasured sexually, which they were, just not directly.