Princess to Pleasure Slave Chronicle

Book Thirteen

Downfall of the Empress

By Amanda Clover and Jay Aury

@amandasmut

Cover artwork by Deilan12

This book and all its contents are copyright 2019 by Amanda Clover. All rights are reserved and no portions may be reproduced unless for the use of brief quotations for review purposes.

All characters appearing in this story are over the age of 18. This is a work of parody and any resemblance to real people or situations is coincidental.

Map of the Empire of Istanov

The Chronicle

The time of monsters was said to be at an end.

The rise of the great human empires of Istanov, Heimsvak, and the desert kingdom of Shaddobar brought the elves to heel and drove the tribes of orcs, goblins, and stranger monsters to the margins.

The last great monster uprising occurred more than 50 years ago, when a brave huntress named Penelope Helsdottir prevented the ascension of a new monster god and formed the Huntresses of Ctharne. These unique warrior women were dispatched throughout the known world wherever trouble arose to tame what monsters they could and destroy those that could not be made into allies.

But within the borders of Istanov, trouble brews. Long years of peace and prosperity have blinded the Istanov dynasty and the people of this nation to a new danger. As monsters gather, seemingly heeding the call of a powerful human leader, will the nobles of Istanov react in time? Or will overconfidence prove the undoing of an empire?

These are the Princess to Pleasure Slave Chronicles.

A Healing Touch

Damera Istanova felt every bump of the wagon. She winced again, her armour rattling where it was piled in the corner. Not even the bedding which cushioned her could quite defeat the seemingly endless rattling of the cart on the old road. Little surprise. At this point in Istanov, every road coming and going had been worn to the ruts by the flight of refugees and the march of armies. With no one to maintain them, the highways had fallen to pieces, as had every village her beleaguered army had passed, empty but for echoes and the ghosts of the past.

Pain again lanced through the busty empress’s side. The sensation stabbed through her addled mind. The fever had set in a day ago. Or was it more? She couldn’t tell. The world seemed to bleed and swirl around her like it were a painting smeared by uncaring hand. Her body burned, focused in that abominable wound in her side. Closed, yet still it pulsed with an ill green glow.

“Easy, my empress,” the priestess said. A modest young woman with gentle blonde hair and soulful eyes, her body hidden behind a virgin white robe marked with the holy symbol of Lasha.

“Thirsty,” Damera gasped.

A cup met her lips and eagerly she drank, the cool water soothing her sore throat. She closed her eyes in blessed relief. She sighed, laying back, her generous breasts heaving, her shirt stained with sweat so it adhered to her curves and the taut, firm form of her figure. She was no plump lady in waiting. Even before the war with the Duke of Ashes the empress had been a warrior born and bred, her hobbies all having a martial bend that had kept her fit and trim.

“There,” the priestess soothed, her hands glowing as she resumed her work on the empress’s injured side. “That’s it. Just relax.”

Damera laughed bitterly. “Oh, relax!” she said. “Relax! Of course. Shall I do that while… while the monsters slaughter my troops? Oh! Or… or perhaps when all my allies abandon me to face this horror on my own. Relax! Hahaha!” Her laughter rose, shrill with hysterics that turned quickly to sobs. She threw an arm over her eyes. “Oh gods. It’s all going wrong. It’s all gone wrong. We’re going to die, priestess. Do you know that? Oh, not you and I. We’ll live. Live on as the breeding sows of monsters! And why? Because my brother… my brother was a fool. The Red Mages are traitors. And Heimsvak… Heimsvak hates us.

“Am I to blame?” she asked vaguely. “Could someone else have done better? Gods I hope so. Gods I hope I deserve all of this. Whatever happens to me.”

“No,” the priestess said, her voice tender and kind. “You don’t deserve any of what has happened to you, Damera. None of what has come to your land is your fault.”

Damera snorted. “You seem sure.”

“The gods always are.”

Golden light shone against her. Startled, Damera uncovered her eyes, and gaped.

The white robe was gone, melting away like ice in summer’s glow. The priestess was floating as if the golden light she emitted buoyed her. Flawless pale breasts were revealed, her hair a tumble of golden curls hovering about her face. Her eyes shone white with purity. Before Damera’s eyes wings of light manifested, assembling themselves like pieces of a puzzle growing from the priestesses back.

“Gods,” Damera breathed.

“One,” the angel said, touching Damera’s wound. “Kind Lasha, who has bid me come to you, and bless she who has fought for goodness against the predation of greatest horrors. Be at ease, Damera. Be at ease, and be healed as much as I can.”

Damera gasped, arching as warmth blossomed through her. The fever washed away with a wave of cleansing magic, the pain in her side banished in a flash of molten joy. Her body felt warm. Light. Tingling with electric sensitivity as she gazed up at the heavenly woman beside her.

“Who…”

“I am Tiana. Servant of blessed Lasha. She has sent me to deliver unto you a message, Damera Istanova. That you are not abandoned. That Lasha loves you, and she sends her servant to aid you in this time of great need.”

Damera gasped as gentle fingers stroked her cunny, sliding along the divot in her panties. She moaned as the fabric was eased down, baring her flushing pussy. As the angel’s lips lowered onto hers. “She loves you, Damera, and this servant does too.”

Damera moaned as those sweet lips met hers. As a gentle hand cupped her breast, massaged that firm, luscious orb. Her hips rose as the other hand continued to stroke her. Ease. Warmth. Peace spreading through her with every touch of the heavenly creature with her.

“G-gods. This… this is…”

“Lasha is a goddess of healing, Damera,” Tiana said, her voice filled with a warmth that filled the panting empress with ease. “Of life. She does not deny pleasure. It exists, and those who worship Lasha know it is merely another means of knowing her blessing.”

“Ohhh,” Damera sighed softly, whimpering, tears staining her cheeks with pleasure and uncertainty. It had been so long since she’d known such a loving stroke. Such infinite tenderness. She felt herself rocked in soothing pleasure as that wonderful finger continued to stroke her. Those soft lips continued to kiss her. And that loving hand continued to massage her breasts.

“Be at ease, Damera,” the angel murmured. “Rest. A moment of calm in a sea of turmoil and suffering. You have earned this, and so much more.”

Damera panted. “I… I don’t kn-know if I c-can.”

“I will help you,” Tiana said, and again kissed her.

Softness enveloped the empress. No longer did she feel the bumping of the wagon. The chill of the air or the heat of her fever. Only blessed warmth. Blessed softness. Her lashes fluttered. A soft cry, tender and weak, escaped her lips as her body tensed with the height of her orgasm. It washed through her in a surge, taking away the strain of the war. Of the days of the battlefield and her injuries suffered. Of the pain and sinful heat that oozed from her wounded side.

“Rest,” the angel said again, kissing her cheek. “Rest, sweet empress. And know peace, for a little while at least.”

Her eyes felt heavy. Damera tried to fight it. Tried to seize even a few moments more of the sight of the angel above her, wings glowing with tender light, eyes full of tenderness and kindness. She reached up and touched the angel’s cheek with a shaking hand.

“Th-thank… you…”

Tiana’s smile answered her, and it was the last thing Damera saw before falling deep into a dreamless sleep.

Loyalties

“Grovel before your emperor!”

The young maid – her name didn’t particularly matter to Androse – lowered her face to the floor, her naked curves shaking with fear. And oh, how that filled him with delight. Androse sat in his royal chambers within Moskov’s palace, the curtains drawn against the gloomy skies. Lamps burned, illuminating the gaudy tapestries depicting his victories, statues carved commemorating his glory. The fortune of the empire was gathered around him, dragged from the vaults. Gold and jewels gleamed around his throne, piled haphazardly in a sea of treasures. Rings bejewelled his fingers and his royal robe hung heavily on his broad shoulders. The fabric had grown strained around his ever-expanding gut, and the rings now pinched his thickened fingers, but he ignored all that. All his attention was on the quivering maidservant.

She was a pretty one. All of them were. Smirking, he pushed out his foot. “You may kiss your emperor now, whore.”

Trembling, the girl took his foot in hand and kissed it. She glanced up from between her red bangs, and seeing his look of satisfaction quickly kissed his toes again, gently sucking on them as if her life depended on it. Which it did.

Androse smirked, drawing his cock out of his pants. He began to stroke himself as the young woman sucked at his toes. Her hair reminded him starkly of his sister’s, which amused him even more. The stupid whore. If she had just kneeled likes this before him, he would have granted her mercy. But since she had been stupid enough to defy him, he’d been forced to dismiss Damera’s calls for aid. It was her own fault, really. He groaned as the maid sucked on his toe, his hand moving faster.

A knock thundered through the chambers. “What!” Androse snarled.

“My lord,” his chamberlain’s voice said, muffled by the door. “Ulamon Kade of Heimsvak has arrived.”

“What?” he snapped, kicking the maid off his foot, ignoring her cry as she fell to the floor. “What the hell does he want?”

“You agreed to meet with him, my emperor.”

“Fuck,” Androse muttered. Had he? Probably. His chamberlain was punctual to a fault, and if he said Androse had agreed to something he probably had. Not that Androse would think twice about cancelling. Fucking Heimsvakers. Thought they were so great because they took Cleavegrad from his father. He ignored the moan of pain from the maid and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then grinned. “Alright. Show him in. You,” he said, directing his attention back to the maid. “Slut. Get up here. Time to give your master’s cock the attention it deserves.”

Knowing what awaited her if she failed, the curvy maid crawled back to her feet and kneeled between his legs. Androse grunted as her soft lips engulfed his cock, sliding up and down with dutiful eagerness. Androse settling back in his throne, smirking in delight as the doors swung open and the diplomat from Heimsvak entered.

Kade was a tall, thin man, his long hair oiled back, his nose pointed like a beak. His official suit and cloak were immaculate, which made the emperor annoyed at once, reminding him of his unwashed robe. Androse curled a lip as the diplomat swept back his cloak in a long bow, not even mentioning the naked woman sucking the emperor’s cock. Prissy fucker.

“Greeting Androse Istanova, emperor of the realms of Istanov. Such a pleasure to meet you once again.”

“Hmph! So you say,” Androse grumbled, resting his hand on the maid’s head, encouraging her in her eager sucking. “Well, whatever. What brings you to my empire, Kade? Has Heimsvak come to offer their princess as my new bride?”

“Not quite,” Kade said, his smile as oily as his hair. He pressed the tips of his fingers together. “It has come to the kingdom’s attention that your sister is in a bit of a spot.”

That got his attention. “Oh?” Androse breathed, his cock twitching under the tongue of his servant. “And what… mnn… might that be?”

“Indeed, your majesty. It appears that her army was routed and is in retreat to Kirinovo. My king has bidden me ask you to hurry and marshal your forces. You must march to her aid. Between her army and yours, she still has a chance to save Istanov from the Duke of Ashes.”

Androse threw back his head and roared with laughter. He shoved the maid’s head down on his cock, his laughter hitching as he came, pumping his seed into the woman’s mouth, delighting as she choked and gagged as she tried to swallow him.

“Has she! Oh, my good man! That’s the finest news I’ve heard all year! Ha ha ha! The stupid slut! I knew she’d fail. That’s what she gets for trying to steal my empire from me!”

“Arguably, it is the Duke who stands the best chance of that,” Kade observed.

In an instant Androse’s mood soured. He surged to his feet, shoving the maid off his cock, sending her to the floor where she gasped and whimpered. “The Duke is a coward! He hadn’t the balls to face me in battle himself! He’ll never reach Moskov! Never, do you hear! And if he tries, I’ll crush him beneath the walls! I have the home guard. The Red Mages! I have no need to go out and face him! Let my whore of a sister die. You lot should be the ones rushing to her aid! Don’t think I don’t know what your king has been up to. Trying to seduce my slut of a sister. Fucking her to breed our line out. You all want Istanov! Well you can forget it!

“Let that bitch die!” Androse howled, raising his fists into the air, foam flecking the corner of his mouth. “Let the Duke kill her! I’ll never give up the throne, do you hear me? Never! Never! It’s mine! I was the champion of the Rose when I was but a boy! I’m the one who is the rightful ruler of Istanov! And soon, soon all of you will know my true power. A power that will make the Duke of Ashes and Heimsvak kneel before me! You tell your king this. Tell him that Androse is still emperor of Istanov!

“Get out!” he snarled, jabbing a finger at the door. “Out of my hall! Out of my castle! I am emperor here! I can skin you and hang your mangy hide from my flag pole if I wanted to! Who would stop me? Nobody! Get out!”

Kade bowed once more. “Of course, your majesty,” he said smoothly. “As you wish.”

Turning, the diplomat swept back down the hall, smoothing back his oiled hair once more. Behind him, he heard the maid give a cry of pain and the wet smack of flesh on flesh. He didn’t stop smiling even once the guards shut the heavy doors behind him with a resounding boom.

Kade sighed and stroked his long chin as he walked down the ever-warm corridors. Well, that had gone about as well as he’d expected. A pity, but he wasn’t entirely sure just what his king had been hoping for. Small surprise, really. Everyone knew the two heirs of Istanov hated one another, and Androse’s failures and his sister’s successes would only deepen that divide.

Androse’s raging about his power amused the diplomat more than a little. He had seen just what the emperor’s kingdom was. Refugees crowded around the city’s walls in a ramshackle town thrown up when they were denied access to the city proper. Food was brought in under armed guards lest the starving people seize it, and even then that wasn’t enough. The nobles fretted from behind the walls and the soldiers clung to their spears, wishing to leave but knowing they had nowhere to go. And rising from this sea of misery was the palace. Istanov’s imperial family had excellent practice insulating themselves from the misery around them, and Androse was putting that skill to good use. When push came to shove, Kade had little doubt the city would collapse like a house of cards.

Though it would be a pity. The corridors of the palace were warmed with an eternal spring. Now and then he passed balconies overlooking blooming gardens where the noble sons and daughters of the empire once frolicked in peace. Empty now, but the blooming flowers and rustling trees were still a delight to behold.

“Ah well,” Kade mused, crossing his arms behind his back and smiling. It didn’t bother him. Let Istanov burn. It would make his job easier having the aggressive empire dealt with once and for all. With any luck, the self-declared duke and the pompous emperor might snuff one another out. At last Heimsvak might know some semblance of peace.

He slowed as he saw another figure making their way down the passage. Red robes writ with strange designs stirred around the slender figure. A white mask and hood stitched with golden thread hid a face in shadow but for a pair of burning eyes. Though he hid it well, even Kade felt a shudder of fear and revulsion for the Red Mage of the empire.

And yet, the diplomat couldn’t help but cut a quick bow. “Magister Wroth,” he said smoothly. “A pleasure to see you.”

Ulamon Kade.

The voice slithered through his thoughts like a serpent. A chill raced down Kade’s spine. How he hated the way the high echelons of the Red Mages spoke. Not with words, but with sibilant whispers that slid through the mind like silver blades. “Are you heading to speak to the emperor? I fear I didn’t leave him in a good mood for you.”

Wroth tilted his head. The mood of the emperor is of no concern to us.

“Of course not. Though I must say I am surprised that you returned to serve him. I would have thought that the empress was more to your kind’s style.”

The empress had nothing more to offer to us.

“And Androse does?” Kade said, feigning surprise.

The diplomat regretted his words almost at once as those glowing eyes sliced into him. Despite himself, he swallowed the lump in his throat.

Istanov serves our purposes well enough. Have no fear. The empress cannot stop the Duke of Ashes.

“But Androse can? Somehow, I doubt that, sir,” Kade said, regaining his jocular politeness.

Magic has many uses, Ulamon.

Kade shivered. Androse’s ravings again occurred to him. His shouts that Heimsvak and the Duke would know his power. His wrath. Kade’s brow knit, his lips tightened. “What do you mean by that, magister?”

Wroth stared at him, then passed him by. Kade turned, watching the Red Mage go, robes stirring around the mage as if the masked man floated rather than walked like the mere mortals that shared the palace with him. Kade’s palms were sweaty. Even in Heimsvak they spoke of the Red Mages with wariness. An order whose source couldn’t be tracked even by the great librarians in the capital. Whose powers had never fully been plumbed in all the ages of the empire. On occasion, the Red Mages had lent their power to the empire when it battled Heimsvak. The tales of those results had made many a Heimsvak king more wary to range past the secure slopes of Cleavegrad. Kade’s mentor had said often of the sorcerers, “No matter how much you think you know; odds are they know more.”

Kade remembered those words as he watched the Red Mage glide away and around a corner. What were they up to? It worried him more than a little. In his world, all men sought one thing. Power. But what to make of those sorcerers? Ones whose might allowed them to work independent of Istanov unless it pleased them otherwise?

Kade smoothed his oiled hair back once more, clucking his tongue. “What indeed…”

Dungeon

Thunder boomed over the distant plains. Rain plinked off the glass of the windows, the gloom beaten back by fluttering torches along the walls, illuminating Kirinovo’s map room. Damera winced as she shifted in her chair, the wound in her side flaring with pain. Though her other wounds and aches had been banished by the time she woke, that poisoned injury had remained. Of the angel, nothing had remained when she’d awoken, save a feeling of peace and calm.

But that had faded in the days since arriving at Kirinovo. Her injured troops had been brought to the healing temples to be further treated, the rest marshalled on the walls.

“We haven’t the troops to hold the city long,” Walter said. The general frowned from beneath his helm, his eyes hard and grim, the scars which gouged his face crinkling. He reached up and stroked his flowing mustache, moving his jaw slowly. “The simple fact is, my lady, our losses from the battle have been too severe, and the walls of Kirinovo too large. We can’t survive a prolonged siege with them, and the townspeople.”

“You can’t abandon the city!” yelped Ordriga. The pudgy baron Damera had known the last time she’d passed through the city was gone. Stress had sloughed the fat off the man until skin sagged from his jowls and his rings clinked on bony fingers. He turned pleading eyes to the empress. “Please, my lady! We cannot hope to hold back the Duke without you!”

“Rest assured,” Damera said shortly. “I have no intention of abandoning Kirinovo.”

“Empress…” Walter said slowly.

“And you don’t need to worry about a prolonged siege, general,” Damera said, turning back to the old warrior. “That is not the monster’s way. They strike deep and hard. They are a horde, not an army. The Duke can only keep hurling them in a mass forward. If he leaves them to fester overlong, they won’t remain. They have no supply lines. No farms. No holds. They are beasts of lairs and territories. My friends,” Damera said grimly. “The simple fact is that just as we need to hold Kirinovo, the Duke of Ashes must take it, or his army will starve.”

Walter eased back in his chair, stroking his mustache more aggressively. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I believe you might be right, my empress. But,” he said, scowling, “the numbers of the Duke are great. I doubt we have the men to hold it.”

The other generals about the table muttered to themselves. “But hold it we must,” Damera said. She glanced towards the youngest at the table. A slender man in a forest green cloak splotched with darker hues. “Ander?”

The ranger captain nodded. “I fear we are surrounded, generals. Those scouts I send out have reported monsters prowling around the forest and beyond in great numbers. Anyone not within the city walls I fear has already been killed or taken by the creatures. And any attempt by us to break out will be met with a slogging march harried at all times by the monsters, slowing us down until the gathered horde can smash into us.”

“Then, we’re trapped,” Walter said.

“We are. But so is the Duke. He must take the city, gentlemen,” Damera said.

“You have a plan?” Ordriga asked hopefully.

“I do,” Damera said grimly. She folded her hands before her and looked levelly at every man present. “We will arm every citizen of fighting age in the city and put them on the walls. We will drill them as much as we can, and we will fight the monster hordes with everything we have.”

Ordriga’s eyes bulged. “My lady!” he gasped. “You can’t be serious! Conscripting the entire city? That’s…”

“Necessary,” Damera said shortly. “Baron, if your people do not fight on the walls, they will die in the streets. No one is under any illusion of what fate awaits a city that falls to the monster hordes. We must hold Kirinovo, by any means necessary. If we can hold against the Duke’s assault, his horde will be broken. Scattered.”

“He has been before,” Walter noted. “What will stop him from gathering a third horde?”

“We can only pray he lacks the numbers of beasts to do so,” Damera said. “But even if there are, I wonder if they will be as ready to follow a man who has failed twice, and so completely. He must promise them victory, or he has nothing to offer them.”

“How can you be sure?”

“If I am not, then we are doomed regardless,” Damera said. “But we must fight here. All of this speculates on the future, but we will not see it if we are defeated here.”

Her words fell heavily among the men seated before her. They looked at her, and she saw the grim realization of what she spoke. The heavy portents of her words.

“Prepare yourselves, my lords,” Damera said. “We decide the fate of the empire here.”

As one her generals rose and departed, each to their own works to prepare the city for the inevitable siege. Damera climbed to her feet but winced as pain and heat shot through her side.

“My empress, are you alright?”

She glanced up at Ander and nodded. “I’m fine. Just a wound from the battle. It hasn’t healed properly yet.”

Ander nodded uncertainly. “As you say.”

“I do,” she said shortly, forcing herself to straighten fully and look him in the eye. “What of that matter I spoke to you of?”

“We did as you said,” Ander said, walking with her around the table and into the hall of the palace. “We captured one of the creatures lurking about the forest when my scouts were returning. But, I don’t know how much you will get from him. These monsters are notoriously hard to interrogate.”

“We will make him talk, regardless,” Damera said.

Ander merely nodded. Their steps took them down the spiralling stairs and deeper into the palace, where the stones grew cold with the deepness of the earth and torches fluttered, illuminating grim shadows where daylight never reached.

As Damera descended into the depths of the dungeon she felt the wound in her side throb. She felt acutely more aware of the heat of her wound. How it spread through her. And of a… a scent in the dungeons. A muskiness that lingered in the dank corridors. That made her head feel thick and her body even warmer.

Guards stood at attention at the end of the corridor. They stiffened, the heavy iron door between them solid and secure but for a crescent window of bars.

“Open it,” Damera ordered them.

The guards nodded and grasped the handle, dragging open the door. As it widened Damera inhaled sharply as the intensity of that scent shot through her.

Beyond the doors a monster rested. Even slouched on the ground his large frame was undeniable, his body covered in black fur, his eyes yellow in a canid head. A wulfen. A beast of raw animal mingled with man. Large paws ended in claws, chained to the wall. His ears twitched as he raised his head, squinting in the light. His lips peeled back, baring yellowed fangs in a feral grin.

A beast. A monster. A creature with the build of a man and the savage form of a wolf rolled into one, possessing none of the civilized nature of the former. Little more than an animal with a gift of tongues.

But Damera barely noticed this. Despite herself, her eyes were drawn down. The monster was naked, and his cock fully exposed. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth as she saw that half-hard shaft, the red, wedged tip growing from his fur. She could smell it. An intense, musky, wild scent that shot straight to her core.

Warmth oozed through her like liquid heat, spreading from her wound and across her body.

“My empress?” Ander murmured. “Are you alright?”

“Hm? What? Of course,” Damera said shortly.

“You look rather flushed…”

Damera touched her cheek and realized she was. She cleared her throat and stepped forward; her curvy frame outlined by the torch. “Monster. Can you speak?”

The wulfen laughed roughly. “I can talk,” the monster said. “What do you want?”

“I have questions for you. And you will answer here or on the torturer’s rack. Do you understand me?”

The wulfen tipped back his head. He sniffed the air with interest, and his toothy grin made Damera feel a little uncertain now. She shivered as those yellow eyes fixed themselves on her again, piercing her. She felt her nipples harden against the fabric of her official gown. Gods. Were they visible? She had to force her hands not to rise and check. Not to touch her generous mounds, stroke them, tease the jutting nubs of pleasure…

Her wound was aching. Yet, oddly, it was not painful as it once was. Instead it only made her feel warm. Her head a little thick, and her heart thumping.

“I will talk,” the wulfen growled. He jerked his head at the guards. “But not in front of them.”

Damera frowned, then nodded to Ander. “Leave us.”

“My empress…”

“The beast is chained, and I am armed,” Damera said shortly, staring down the monster. “There is no real danger.”

Ander hesitated, but bowed and moved back. She waited until the heavy door was shut, then stuck her torch in a waiting sconce and turned to the monster.

“Now, speak, monster. What is the Duke planning? What are his numbers?”

The wulfen said nothing, but those eyes continued to stare at her. Damera pursed her lips, feeling more and more uncomfortable under that seemingly knowing look. She shifted, her silks sliding over her warm, sensitive flesh, her nipples tingling as they were rubbed, her quim hot and growing damp. Gods, why was it so warm? It should be cold so deep underground. Yet she felt almost feverish.

The wulfen chuckled, wrenching her back to the present. The monster shifted, rolling his shoulders, flexing his muscled chest. Damera couldn’t help but stare at him. He was so wild. So savage. So… potent.

“If I talk, what do I get out of it?”

“Not having your ribs torn out with red hot pincers,” Damera said at once.

The wulfen laughed. “You are brave, empress! Surprising. You look much more like breeding slut than warrior.”

She blushed. Why was she blushing? She felt light, like she was filled with air. “I can have the torturer here in ten seconds,” she said sharply.

“No need for that. I will talk. But I want something in exchange.”

“I won’t give you your freedom, beast.”

“Then something else.”

“What could you want?”

The wulfen grinned again and shifted, easing back, folding his legs under him, putting his cock on to greater prominence. Damera stared, arrested by the sight of that red shaft, bulging from between his legs. He was semi hard now, the red tip slick with pre, given the shape of a hound rather than a man. A beast’s cock, his hairy bollocks nestled beneath.

Damera found herself breathing thickly. Her eyes again found his, those yellow orbs shining with cruel craftiness. “I talk. But first, you suck my cock.”

His words thrummed through her like they struck some unholy chord deep within her soul. Her wound throbbed, spreading through her ample chest, coiling in her core. “Wh-what!” she gasped incredulously.

“Suck my cock,” the wulfen growled, giving his hips a lewd twitch. “You will kill me after I talk. So why should I? But if empress sucks cock, then I will talk.”

Damera’s face burned, yet she couldn’t look away from that crimson shaft. It wasn’t like her beloved’s. It was larger. Savage. The red flesh that of a beast, not a man. His musk hung heavy in the air. She couldn’t breathe without inhaling another lungful of his scent. Her thoughts were sluggish. Her body ached. That strange, pulsing sensation radiated from her wound and through her curvy frame.

She realized she was moving forward. She tried to stop herself but the effort seemed almost childish. Her gown rustled as she got on her knees before the creature, just out of reach of his hands. Gods. Gods what was she doing? She trembled as she reached out, her slim hands touching his cock. The heat of it shocked her. Fascinated her. Her hands slowly ran up his turgid length, feeling how hard he was. How thick his cock was. And growing. Growing larger as she stroked him, unsheathing itself from his furry groin. A wedge of pure breeding power.

The smell of him was overwhelming. Her nipples tented her gown. Her pussy was slick, her panties adhering themselves to her slit. She leaned forward, her mouth opening, and engulfed the monster’s shaft.

The wulfen growled, low and deep and in delight. The sound vibrated through the young empress as her soft lips began to slide up and down the monster’s cock. The taste of him overwhelmed her. Musky and foul, and yet somehow incredible. Compelling. Enthralling. Her body was burning with inhuman lust as she moaned, bobbing on the monster’s cock, lost to the motions, her whole body thrumming with sweetest lust.

She reached between his legs and cupped the monster’s balls. The wulfen snarled in pleasure as she began to massage and roll those heavy orbs in her fingers. Her other hand remained on his shaft, for he was too big for her mouth to take entirely. She kept stroking him. Sucking him. His every growl spurred her on. Oh, she wanted him to cum. She wanted him to fill her mouth with his foul seed. To feel his thick cum on her tongue and sliding down her throat. Molten lust burned in her quim and through her body.

“Yesssss,” the wulfen growled. “Yes! Good slut. Good whore. You like wulfen cock, don’t you? Just filthy slut wanted monster seed. You suck good. So goooood. Keep going. Good. Good.”

His words made her cheeks burn, but she didn’t stop. Couldn’t conceive of it. He was getting close. She could sense it. She redoubled her efforts, sucking his savage cock with ever more eagerness. Nearer. Nearer!

The wulfen was panting. Groaning. He gave a sudden throaty howl and came, his cock throbbing, his cum exploding in her mouth. Damera moaned, her lashes fluttering as she tasted his foul cum. As it pumped into her mouth in hot bursts of monstrous essence. Her throat worked, swallowing his thick cum, feeling it slide down her throat and deep into her stomach, settling there in a heavy mass.

She pulled her lips from his cock, her eyes misty, her lips plumped, panting. She stared into his eyes, and the wulfen smirked with savage hunger.

“Come.”

She moved forward, and into his reach. She didn’t know why. She wasn’t sure why she was doing this now. But her body yearned for it. Ached for it. The need to be touched by this monster roared from her wounded side, overwhelming all her common sense and decency.

The wulfen’s hands rose, chains rattling. He grasped her gown and pulled. Damera gasped as the front of her dress was torn from neck to groin, baring her plush, quivering breasts. Her soaked panties.

“Good,” the wulfen growled. She mewled as his paw engulfed her full breast, squeezing that plush orb with delight. His other hand went down, pressed his palm against her cunny, cupping her pussy, feeling the heat of her desire.

“Like bitch in heat,” the wulfen chuckled.

“Y-yes,” Damera whimpered as his large hand cruelly massaged her teat, admiring the heft of her generous tit-flesh, his claws leaving thin red marks where they pressed against her pale skin. She gasped, arching, pressing herself against those cruel, bestial touches. Moaning weakly as his other hand grasped her soaked panties, a claw ripping through the fabric, leaving it in tatters around her thighs.

She was near naked. Only rags still clothed her. The torn and abused fragments of her finery. Her skin was bared, flushed. Her head spinning. Her hips quivering.

The wulfen leaned in. His thick, coarse tongue stroked her neck. She whimpered, yet yielded to that savage kiss.

His hands abandoned her curves, grasped her, pulled her closer. She was astride his lap, her pale curves stark against the monster’s black fur and his immense frame. The wulfen smirked with his savage lips, and pushed her down.

Damera moaned aloud as her plump bottom parted to the thickness of his cock. She whimpered as it pressed against her tight back door, but could only gasp in pleasure as he filled her. There was pain, yes. And yet, the pain was somehow good. Somehow a delight. A thing so near pleasure she could barely tell the difference as she took him to the root.

And then began to ride.

Damera, empress of Istanova, moaned as she bounced atop the cock of the monster in her dungeon. The wulfen snarled, grasping her shaking tits, massaging the pert orbs of female flesh. Damera cried out, a whimper of pure pleasure escaping her as her soft bottom pounded down on the wulfen’s lap, his bestial cock swelling in her tight backdoor. Oh, it felt so gooood! So sinfully good! So wonderful. So powerful! Her hand delved down, strumming her furnace of a cunt as she bounced and fucked her ass atop the monster, driving her inevitably towards that sweet peak.

“Oh gods. Gods! Yes! Yes! So good. So nnn… so… ah… ah… Ah! Mnnnn!”

Damera cried out, shuddering, her first orgasm pounding through her, the intensity of it overwhelming her in hot waves of purest pleasure. Everything seemed mad. Strange. Alien and odd, like she was in some unreality that she couldn’t escape. A place of pleasure and sin where the two only accented the other.

The wulfen laughed, its nature halfway between a bark and human mirth. “So easy, human slut! Are you really empress? Or just bitch?”

“I… I… nnnnn!” The answer eluded her. She didn’t know. She only knew she loved this. Loved the sensation of the beast’s mighty cock inside her. A pillar spearing her to the very core as she continued to bounce on him. As his claws continued to maul and massage her tender breasts. Her pussy so wet it was fairly drooling.

The world was mad. Insane. Nothing was making sense. Nothing but the sensations of pleasure overwhelming her. Her sanity. She kept stroking herself, her finger slick as she rubbed her tender clit towards her next peak. Her next pleasured high.

The beast wasn’t far behind. His breathing was ragged. His tongue lolled from his maw and his yellow eyes glowed with the intensity of his pleasure. His hips pounded her ass, beating her to a mush of pleasured moans and whimpering cries.

“Gonna cum… gonna cum. Gonna… Hrrrroooooo!”

The wulfen threw back his head, howling, his cry dwarfing Damera’s as the beast came within her, his boiling seed pulsing into her tight bottom, lubing her. She screamed with ecstasy as she hit her peak, her body a slave to the pleasure. One that only proved more intense as the monster’s knot swelled, sealing his cock and seed within her, stretching her already straining bottom even further. The tension felt so wonderful. So good. She could only whimper, weak, helpless. She collapsed against him, panting, her hair tumbling around her face in sweat matted locks.

The wulfen held her. Possessive. She could feel his claws resting against her pale arms, his maw an inch from her head. “When knot gone,” the beast growled. “I take pussy.”

A tremor rocked the empress. She knew what that would mean. How could she not? To let the monster cum within her would claim her. Destroy all she was, make her the monster’s brood mother. A slave to his pleasure, her mons branded with the eye of the Duke of Ashes. The curse.

And yet, the prospect did not horrify her. The tremor that rocked her, spreading from the tainted wound in her side was one of eager anticipation. Of panting desire. The thought of becoming this monster’s thrall. His eager breeding bitch stirred her in ways she couldn’t define yet yearned for in quivering need. Even as she delighted in the sense of fullness of the monster’s knot within her she couldn’t wait for his red cock to thrust into her cunt. To claim her as his own, brand her, fill her with his pups.

“Yes,” she breathed, looking up into the monster’s face. “N-need c-cock.”

The wulfen grinned broadly. He reached down, squeezing again her fat breast, making her moan and whimper with eager anticipation. By the time his knot began to loosen, she was once more a panting mess. She lifted her ass from his cock, his seed drooling from her gaping bottom. On hands and knees, she turned about, raised her ass like a bitch and heat, and begged.

“Please,” she panted. “Please, f-fuck me. Breed your bitch. She needs it. She needs your cum in her so bad.”

The clank of chains sent her shaking with anticipation. The feel of the monster behind her. The warmth of his body. The heavy sound of his panting. She whimpered as his clawed hands grasped her ass, pulled her back, her legs parting to reveal the blushing lips of her hot cunt.

The wulfen growled, and thrust!

She screamed. Screamed in overwhelming ecstasy. In pleasure that dwarfed the meager sensation of his reaming of her plush bottom. If felt so good. So wonderful! “Yesss!” she screamed as the monster began to thrust. His hips spanking her ass red, his crimson cock filling her searing depth.

“Yessss!” she screamed. “Yes! Fuck me! Fuck your bitch! Oh gods. Gods yes! Breed me! Breed my cunt! Fill me! Yes! Yesssss!”

She was panting. Moaning. The world was spinning around her. The wulfen’s grip on her was tight. His cock plunged into her sopping cunt. The sound of their fucking overwhelmed her. The sensation blinded her. The wound in her side throbbed, her breasts swaying beneath her.

She was lost. Only this pleasure existed. Only this endless cascade of wonderous orgasm. Of cumming. Of reaching heights she never dreamed. Not with the king of Heimsvak had she know such delight. Not under the corrupting touch of a succubus. The ruthless caress of the swamp creature summoned up by the Duke. She didn’t want it to end. Never. Never. She wanted this forever.

Noise. Noise. Voices. Pleasure. Fucking. Hands on her. Touching her. She heard a howl. She drew herself up on the cock. He was so close. She could feel the throbbing of his shaft.

And she was ripped off his cock.

“Noooooo!” she cried, screaming and struggling. Cruel hands grabbed her, pulling her away. Shadows danced. Voices bellowed. She writhed and twisted, reaching for the monster’s cock. Desperate.

Pain burst on her cheek. On the other. Her head was ringing.

Freezing water crashed over her. Damera gasped, the heat in her extinguished by the shock.

The world reaffirmed itself. She looked up blearily. Ander crouched over her, an empty bucket in his hands. The guards from the door stood at his sides, staring down at her in shock.

“What… what happened?”

“Empress,” Ander said. “What were you doing!”

Damera blinked. The events rushed in. Her eyes widened; her mouth parted in horrified shock. “Oh gods,” she gasped. She grabbed her forehead, her head throbbing with pain and realization of what she had nearly done. Her body still yearned for the caress of his cock. She could feel his foul seed stuffing her ass. Tingling on her tongue. “Oh gods above!”

“Empress, what happened in there? What was going on?” Ander asked frantically.

Damera shut her eyes tight, her breathing coming in ragged gasps. Her body was tender. Aching with the pleasured throes experienced. She still felt the wulfen’s cum inside of her, the memories of what it had felt for his knot to swell within her, how he had fucked her. Filled her.

Her wound sent a sudden stab of pain through her. She gasped, covered her side. She grit her teeth.

“A trap…”

“My empress?”

Damera shook herself, thinking fast. “A trap,” she said. “The wulfen was a trap sent to catch me. Cursed. The creature was cursed to try and force me to breed with it.”

Ander sucked in a breath. “Oh gods. Empress, I… Forgive me. I never would have dreamed…”

“No matter,” she gasped, forcing herself up, using the wall to lever herself to her feet. She shook her head again. Ander quickly took off his mottled cloak and offered it to her. She nodded, wrapping the cloth around herself, masking her nudity from the men. “This must not leave this dungeon,” she told the trio. “None must know.”

“Of course,” Ander said at once. “But, my empress. What shall be done with the prisoner?”

Her wound pulsed. Damera grit her teeth. There was no question what must be done. “Kill it.”

The Assault

The tall walls of Kirinovo burned with the light of torches. Priests and priestesses moved along the battlements, their low intonations and prayers droning through the dark. Incense burners swung in their hands, blessing the walls and the frightened faces which stood atop them. Soldiers were interspersed here and there, their hard discipline starkly at odds with the tense fright of the citizenry. For a nightmare they had never thought had come up from the darkness, and now they had to face it.

And yet, Damera was encouraged by the way the townsfolk gripped their makeshift weapons in white knuckled hands. The grim desperation which marked their faces. They knew what was at stake. They knew what was to come should the walls fail and the monsters surge into their town. Torchlight glimmered on spears, sword and sickle as if awash with blood.

From within the city the temple bells rang out long and slow.

Midnight.

The woods stirred, whispered. Darkness flowed into the plains. Long ago the forest had been cut back, and through untilled fields the monster horde crept. Eyes glittered in the dark. Fang and claw shone. Shapes of horror and evil stalked through abandoned farm and homes, drawing near.

The dark tide came in, surrounding Kirinovo. Hands gripped weapons harder. Eyes squinted down.

“Hold!” a firm command rang out across the walls as sergeants moved among their troops. “Fit arrows!”

Bowstrings creaked as arrows were drawn, raised.

“Fire!”

Arrows hissed through the air, plunging into the horde. Monsters brayed and howled as the arrows found their marks, and the horde rushed forward.

Screams split the sky as harpies and demons rode the winds, sweeping down like angels of death onto the walls. Spears rose, warding the monsters off. Screams of pain and rage rent the night. In the distraction, several creatures reached the walls, clambering up them with inhuman grace and speed. A man screamed as a wulfen grabbed him, wrenched him off the parapets and hurled him into the void before four spears plunged into the monster’s body, sending him tumbling down. But there were more. So many more.

“Fight on!” Walter bellowed from his place on the walls. Flanking him were the flags of the empire, their crimson banners snapping in the wind. The burly warrior filled his armour, his sword drawn. At his sides priests murmured and soldiers stood guard. “Fight! Beat these creatures back! Do not let them into the walls! Fight you dogs! Fight for your city! Fight for your race! Fight for your empress!”

The command rang through the air. Soldiers shouted in defiance of the dark and fought back with greater force.

The sounds of battle rang through the narrow streets. In a small inn, down in the basement among casks of ale and wine the noise could barely be heard. Laya glanced up, but shook her head. The young barmaid took a deep breath and pulled aside her nightgown, baring her naked curves. Crimson markings had been painted on her pale flesh, circling about pert, firm nipples. Nervously, she grasped the sheet before her, wrenching it free.

The fabric fell away, revealing the massive mirror. Gilt decorated its surface, the surface smoky and dark. Laya smiled and raised her arms, pushing out her youthful breasts and wet pussy.

“Mistress,” the young barmaid moaned. “Your slave has done it! She begs your presence. Come to her!”

The mists of the mirror swirled. Light bled from within. A sickly green glow that washed over the young woman. She gasped, nipples hardening, her head thrown back as she soaked in the dark magic radiating from the mirror.

The surface rippled, and a figure stepped out.

The Red Witch was a sight to behold. Naked, proud, her curves seemed to glow in the crimson magic that crackled across her skin, stirring her red hair as if plucked by fingers of raw power. Curvaceous and busty, a figure of sensual pleasure and raw danger like a tiger, she smiled down at the young woman before her.

“Good work, Laya.”

The young barmaid fell to her knees, gazing in rapt adoration at her mistress. “Oh thank you,” she whimpered in delight.

The mirror shimmered again and a short, stunted shape beat through on small wings. The imp settled on the witch’s shoulder, a derby hat cocked atop his head, his dipropionate cock hanging between his thighs. The imp smirked, flicking his finger, a cigar coiling from dark smoke before being popped into his waiting mouth. The imp grinned around it. “Lookin’ good. See? What’d I tell you? The mirror worked like a dream.”

“Quiet Lugin.”

“Yes’m.”

The Red Witch cackled and stepped aside, and through the mirror stepped the hulking bulk of an orc. Several more followed, the massive green skinned monsters filling the space quickly, their crude armour clanking, their muscled frames fairly quivering in their eagerness to spill the blood of men.

The Red Witch smirked at the bestial warriors. “Let’s begin.”

“Mistress,” Laya whimpered, pawing at the Red Witch’s leg. “Please. You promised…”

The sorceress laughed. “So I did, didn’t I? I promised you a place as a thrall of the monsters. Alright. You.” The Red Witch beckoned one of the orcish warriors. “Give this slut what she’s always wanted.”

The orc grinned as it left its fellows, advancing on the young woman. Eagerly Laya pushed her back against the wall, parting her legs to bare her slick cunny. She looked longingly up at the orc, her finger playing with her slick cunt.

“Oh master,” she moaned. “Please. Make me yours. I… I want your cock so bad. I want to be your breeding bitch so much. I’m so tired of pathetic human cocks. I need yours. Please. Please, fuck this bitch.”

The orc’s eyes burned at her words. He yanked aside his loincloth, baring the thick pillar of his inhuman cock. Laya’s breathing deepened, her fingers stroked her pussy faster. Faster.

The orc kneeled before her, grabbed her hips and yanked her onto his lap. She gasped, her plush breasts mashing against the iron of his chest. Moaned hotly as his thick cock pressed against her cunt, and thrust.

“Yesssss!” Laya screamed as the orc’s cock filled her. She’d been practicing for so long. Waiting for this moment. Stretching herself for the time when she would at last be bred by monster cock. “Ohhhh yesss! Master! Oh fuck yes! Yes! Fuck me! Mnnnnn!”

She bounced on his lap, his hips hammering into her, her breasts rubbing against the orc’s chest. Pleasure surged through her from head to toe. This was it. This was what she’d wanted for so agonizingly long.

“Oh gods!” Laya cried out, throwing back her head, keening with pleasure as she rode the orc’s plunging cock. “Yes. Yes! Oh gods! Gods yes! Fuck me! Breed me! Breed my human pussy! I want it so bad! Oh fuck yes! Yes! Mnnnnnn!”

Laya screamed with ecstasy as she came, shuddering with her climax around the pounding cock of the orc. She kept bouncing on his cock, taking the thickness of him. The glorious length of his inhuman shaft. All that she had dreamed of was happening. Was taking her.

The other orc warriors laughed at her eager submission. Her betrayal. Yes. Yes, she had damned her city. Her people. Her race to doom. All for this. All to be taken by a monster’s cock. To be claimed and bred as their unholy brood mother. The thought of it sent her to new heights, and with another scream she came again.

As her pussy tightened around the shaft of the orc, he gave a great bellow of pleasure. He hilted within her, his grip bruising her soft hips, and he came. “Yesssss!” Laya cried as she felt his hot spunk pump into her, claiming her, breeding her helpless womb. Her cry rose higher still as she felt the glorious wave of submission pass through her, as the mark of the eye burned itself above her mons, pulsing red as the unholy sorcery took hold of her.

Lugin sighed and stroked his crimson cock. “Mnn. You know, no matter how many times I see it, it always does my black heart good to see a slut get claimed by her master.”

The Red Witch smirked at the sight. “Come on, boys,” she said, turning her back on Laya as the waitress continued to bounce on the orc’s fat cock. “We’ve got a city to claim. And don’t worry,” she added with a toss of her crimson hair. “There’ll be plenty of sluts for the rest of you.”

The orcs roared in agreement and surged after her. With a wave of her hand the Red Witch shattered the main door of the tavern. Out flowed the orcish warband and into the heart of Kirinovo. The wall had fallen.

And no one even knew it yet.

A Desperate Defense

Thunder rumbled in the distance, but no rain fell. The muggy air made Damera even more acutely aware of just how tight her armour was and how her silk shirt beneath rubbed against her nipples.

She winced in annoyance. Ever since the incident in the dungeon hot desire had been the order of the day, radiating from her aching wound, urging her to touch herself. Fondle herself. She’d been forced to have her armour refitted. Her breasts had become larger. Heavier, but no less firm. She was worried. Worried what the cursed wound was doing to her.

But she suspected she knew. Suspected that the accursed injury was somehow influencing her body. Attempting to turn her into a fat breasted brood mother. A creature to inflame the lusts of monsters.

And worst of all, she found the idea appealing.

Not willingly. But every time she thought of her large naked breasts. Her silken pussy. Her panting, moaning form, images would arise in her mind. She’d finger herself, picturing stunted gertlings rutting into her cunt, fucking her while she sucked on their cocks and they milked her bouncing tits. Of being on her hands and knees, crying out in helpless pleasure as a centaur mounted her, pounding her sopping cunt with his impossibly huge cock, breeding her like a mare. Of minotaur’s and their bestial shafts and she kneeling before them, sucking off their immense manhood, her milky breasts pressed around their massive cocks as she brought them to climax.

She put a hand to her helmeted head, wincing as she felt her headache coming back on. Gods. Her body was on fire. She could practically feel the monsters beyond the wall, baying for her. Wanting her. Eager to make her kneel before them and fuck her before the eyes of her watching army. She wished the thought didn’t turn her on so. She dearly wished it didn’t.

“Empress!”

She jerked her head back up. A rider pounded through the open court of the palace and before her. He threw a hasty salute.

“My lady! Orcs are within the city! They’re attacking the townsfolk and making straight for the gate!”

Damera scowled. She’d feared as much. Sallowmarsh had shown her just how insidious the monsters could be, corrupting or infiltrating cities in order to prepare for the inevitable assault. She drew her sword, the jewel of the last kingdom burning in its hilt, the dark stone flashing in the torchlight. “Right! Riders, we go! Support the gate. Crush the brutes! Defend your city!”

A roar went up from the waiting knights. Men she’d kept in reserve to support any part of the walls that weakened during the siege. She had to be quick about it. It was inevitable that parts of the walls would start to crumble under the monster’s assault. They had to push them back.

“With me!” she cried, swinging forward her blade. “Charge!”

The palace gates were open. Thunder rumbled overhead, echoed in the beating hoofs as the riders streamed from the courtyard and into the cramped city streets. Darkened houses flashed by. The frightened faces of women, the old and infirm glanced out. Those who could not man the walls. Those whose lives depended on her success. She couldn’t fail. She mustn’t fail.

No matter how much the thought of it made her pussy ache, rubbing against the saddle.

The walls loomed ahead over the sloping roofs and burning lanterns. Shouts and screams rent the night. The bellow of orcs prime among them. She caught glimpses of broken doors of a number of homes the orcs had attacked before convening on the gate. The dead littered the ground in pathetic jumbles.

Ahead she saw Kirinovo’s gates. Fighting had engulfed the space around it. She drove her steed faster, desperate. Orcs were clumped about the walls, and even as she rode forward, she saw the barred portcullis begin to rise with a creak of chains.

“For Istanov!” Damera roared as she burst out of the street and into the square. Orcs turned in shock as her cavalry and knights hit them. Soldiers cheered as the reinforcements were received, even as the gate creaked to a halt. Not open fully, but even so monsters surged through the gap and into the square. The two sides clashed with a shriek of steel and snarl of man and monster.

Her horse reared, lashing out with hooves. An orc’s face caved in under the blow, another went down, screaming before the crunch of bone beneath her steed silenced it. Damera laid out with her sword, the stone flaring at its hilt, the blade glowing as it cut through green and grey flesh with ease.

Red flared in the corner of her eye. She turned as crimson lightning surged for her. Her steed shrieked as the blast took it full in the chest. Damera clenched her teeth as hot agony raced up her arms. Her horse screamed, falling. She threw herself from the saddle, hitting the ground. Agony and desire surged through her as she struck her wounded side, scrambling to her feet.

A woman walked through the chaos towards her. Bare feet carried her forward, full breasts high and proud. A face of power and cruelty looked down at Damera while scarlet hair twisted and writher in a vortex of raw power. Crimson static clawed up the woman’s naked frame as she stopped, smirking at the empress.

Even before she saw the imp flutter to the woman’s shoulder, she knew who she faced. “The Red Witch,” Damera hissed.

“Ey! She knows you. Isn’t that something?” the imp said before the sorceress flicked him off.

“The empress of Istanov,” the red head said with a mocking bow. “So you’re the one the Duke and Ghostheart had such trouble with. Have to admit,” she said with an appraising glance at the busty empress, “I can see the appeal. No wonder that orc wanted to fuck your royal cunt.”

“Traitor!” Damera snarled, lifting her sword. “You abandoned your own race!”

The Red Witch laughed with cruel delight. “I did! And it was magnificent. Mnn. Feels so liberating! How about it? Want to join me? I bet you can’t wait to. All those sinful little urges just telling you to take a monster’s fat cock. To just bend over and let them ream your uptight little cunt.”

Damera blushed. Her wound ached, her nipples stiffening, rubbing against the silk of her shirt. “Sh-shut up!”

The Red Witch laughed and raised her hand. Power surged up her arm into a ball of raging lightning she hurled towards the empress. Damera threw herself aside, the spell shattering the cobblestones where she’d stood in an explosion of stone and dust.

“You’re wearing far too much,” the Red Witch said, orbs of light crackling around her hands. “Let’s fix that!”

Again she threw forward her bristling magic. Too late, Damera tried to dodge. The spell hit her full in the chest. She screamed in pain as her armour was ripped away as if by savage claws, breastplate torn aside, her silk shirt shredded to ragged strips. She staggered back.

The Red Witch cackled and took a step forward, her hips swinging in the sensual sway of predatory hunger. Power danced on her fingers and again a surge of crimson lightning surged towards the dazed empress.

Damera swung up her sword.

Spell and steel clashed. Damera skidded back a foot before she stopped. She grit her teeth, holding her family’s sword before her, crimson lightning clawing along the blade. The stone at its hilt blazed with life, the iron white hot.

The witch’s smirk faded. Damera took a step forward. Another.

“Bitch!” the Red Witch growled, pushing more might into her spell. Tongues of lightning snapped out, crackled, ripping great fissures in the pavement. Damera struggled forward, fighting against the force of the magic, pushing on.

For the first time, fear shone in the Red Witch’s eyes. Fear as the empress fought forward despite the arcane might thrown against her. Battled against the insidious magic that surged through her side. The air screamed from the warring forces of sorcery.

With a final cry, Damera swung her blade. The enchanted steel crashed against the spell.

The explosion was more than deafening. A sound so loud it seemed an absence of one. Silencing everything around it. The Red Witch was hurled back, crashing to the ground. She hit the wall; breath driven from her in a gasp.

Damera stood still, holding her blade before her. Its steel steamed in the air. Her breasts heaved, the rags of her shirt stirring around her. Grimly, she advanced.

“I suggest you stop, empress!”

Damera spun about, sword raised. Her eyes were drawn up and a gasp escaped her.

His robes snapping about him in the cold wind, the Duke of Ashes stood astride the top of the gate. His pale face seemed to hover in the darkness of his hood, his eyes sharp and cruel. In one hand he clutched his cane, the head carved in the shape of an eye.

But in the other he held a figure. Her pale flesh seemed to glow in the darkness. Her blonde hair stirred and her glowing crystalline wings flapped uselessly in the air.

“Tiana!” Damera gasped, horror tightening in her chest at the sight of the angel in the grasp of the Duke.

“So you do know each other,” the Duke said, smirking down at her, yanking the angel closer. His hand engulfed the angel’s soft breast, the heavenly woman wincing as he groped her. “How lovely. Then this will be even easier. Surrender, empress,” the Duke said, his other hand leaving his cane which remained standing as if nailed to the ground. His fingers played against the angel’s slit, making Tiana quiver, her mouth opening in a pant of pleasure. “Surrender, or I’ll defile this creature’s holy flesh.”

Damera shook as she watched the torrid scene, her body pulsing with desire. Arousal. “Monster!” she cried, her voice breaking as the power of her sword weakened against the insidious influence of her wound.

The Duke laughed. “Hardly an insult, empress. Now drop your weapon!”

Damera looked about blankly. Her forces were in retreat, pushed back. Monsters poured through the open gates. Men died, falling, screaming as they were torn apart. Those on the walls were fleeing, the townsfolk abandoning the walls. Running back into the maze of the streets. Fires were already beginning to burn throughout Kirinovo.

Her sword slipped from nerveless fingers, clattered to the ground. The gem in its hilt pulsed once more, then the glow faded, dying slowly.

The moment the sword left her hand the insidious arousal of her wound rushed in. The void that was left was filled. Damera cried out in despair; a sound so weak, so helpless, and falling into a needy whimper. Her legs gave way and she fell to her knees, bowing her head.

The Duke of Ashes laughed, the sound cruel and savage. He grasped the angel’s wings and wrenched. Tiana screamed as her wings shattered into motes of light, her head thrown back in pain and despair. Contemptibly, the Duke thrust her over the wall. She fell, her glow fading, her flesh losing its holy hue. But death did not wait her near the ground. Hands and claws caught her, bearing her down. Howling with glee monsters surrounded the former angel, pawing at her soft curves, scratching her with claws.

Damera watched, her eyes empty. Hollow. Her core throbbed as a minotaur speared Tiana with his massive cock, the angel’s scream of pain morphing into a moan of ecstasy as the monster plunged his shaft into the angel’s form.

A hand grabbed Damera’s head, forcing it back, forcing her to watch. “Look at her,” the Red Witch hissed into the empress’s ear. “Look at how eager she is for monster cock. It’s almost pathetic, isn’t it? But it’s so arousing too. Hm?”

Damera whimpered as the Red Witch grasped the empress’s full breast, fondling that perky orb, feeling that stiffened peak of Damera’s nipple. Damera didn’t fight it. She couldn’t turn away from the torrid scene as the angel was mounted, her cries of pleasure silenced as an orc claimed her mouth with his thick cock, spit-roasting her between him and the minotaur.

Hot pleasure pounded through Damera. She didn’t bother loathing herself for watching. She was beyond that. Beyond such feeble despair. Her body tingled with awareness of her own arousal. With searing heat of desire that washed away all the shame and pride she once held to herself. Her pussy dripped with arousal. Waves of hot and cold spread from the cursed wound in her side.

The angel screamed in ecstasy as the minotaur howled, spearing her on his cock, his balls tightening as he came. The emblem of the eye blazed into existence on Tiana’s mons, branding her the breeding stock of monsters. The angel’s cry rose in a call of pleasure. Of servitude even as her stomach bulged from the amount of cum pumped into her.

“Like that?” the Red Witch purred into Damera’s ear.

“Nnn,” Damera whimpered.

“Strip, slut.”

Resistance was gone. Damera’s hands moved, pushing down her pants, baring her wet slit. She whimpered as she started openly fingering herself, watching as Tiana was defiled by the monsters, cries of fear and pain changed to moans and pants of pleasure, her hips bucking eagerly as the minotaur pounded the angel’s cunt, her breasts bouncing on her chest.

“Oh, you love it,” the Red Witch cackled as Damera pulled away yet more of her tattered garments. “I knew you were a slut. But we had to make sure you knew it too. That’s why we gave you that pretty cut along your side. Just to make sure that you really appreciated what you truly wanted. Make sure you gave in to aaaall those naughty urges.”

Damera whimpered, her pants falling around her knees in the bloody streets, the rags of her jacket falling away, leaving her naked. Panting. Needy.

“You’re doing so well, empress,” the Red Witch giggled, her hand snaking down Damera’s front, stroking her soaking slit, making the empress whimper and pant. “Just giving in to all those sinful urges. I knew you were always a monster slut. You fought them, but what you really wanted to do was fuck them. Didn’t you? Oh you poor thing. Denying yourself for so long.”

“N-nooo,” Damera whimpered.

“No?” the Red Witch crooned. “You mean you don’t want to be bent over and stuffed with monster cock?” She flicked Damera’s clit, making the empress buck and gasp. “You don’t want to grow heavy with monster pups? Your tits fat with milk for your master’s young? Your body their plaything? A living cock sleeve for your new masters?”

Damera whimpered, trying to deny it, but she knew she couldn’t. Every suggestion sent another stab of sweetest lust piercing through her. Every touch of the Red Witch’s finger sent her hips twitching, humping the teasing finger. Her breath steamed in the air. Her head was spinning. Her body subsumed her hesitation. Drowned her will, herself beneath the impatient need to be bred. To be taken and conquered and made an eager slut.

A shadow fell over them. Damera raised her head.

“Oh,” the Red Witch giggled. “It looks like your first has come along.”

Ghostheart towered over them. The orc’s muscled grey hide cut a dark shadow against the fires of the city. Blood splattered his bare chest, his face blank beneath the white paint in the guise of a skull. But his eyes. His eyes burned with dark triumph and terrible desire.

“Go on now,” the Red Witch murmured into her ear. “Show him how much you regret giving him his newest scar.”

Damera shuddered. Her body seemed to move on its own. Lie back, push out her hips. Her eyes were smoky and pleading as she reached down and parted her slick cunt lips, baring her pink depths.

“P-please,” Damera whimpered. “Please… f-fuck me.”

The Red Witch cackled as Ghostheart moved over them. “That a girl,” the sorceress grinned, drawing back, leaving the quivering empress for the towering orc. His hands gripped her hips, the sensation shooting through Damera with eager anticipation. Her lips parted as the orc crouched over her, pulled aside his loincloth, baring the thick pillar of his cock. Gods. Gods, how had Damera resisted him that time before Sallowmarsh? How had she not seen the glory of such a specimen of manhood. The greatness of such a pillar of masculine power. Her breath was hot. Her whole body burning with fertility. There would be no going back. No returning. She knew this would damn her.

And she didn’t care.

Ghostheart thrust. His cock filled her in a stroke of purest pleasure. Damera screamed, throwing back her head in joy as her inner walls clamped down on the orc’s fat cock. “Yessssss!” she cried out, helpless, enthralled. Desperate. “Yes! Masterrrrrrr!”

Ghostheart didn’t give her a moment’s reprieve. He pulled back and thrust forward, beating his hips against her own, the wet slap of flesh filling her ears. The sensation of the orc’s cock within her overpowering her sense of self. Of resistance. Of denial. “Yesssss!” she screamed. “Yes! Fuck me! Fuck your slut! Oh gods. Gods! Yesssss!”

Ghostheart pulled her against his chest, slamming her down on his cock. Damera screamed with ecstasy as she felt his shaft fill her to the brim. It was so good. So wonderful! She knew it was the curse. That wound given to her. That she had been trapped. Ensorcelled. Cursed to want this. And yet, she didn’t care. Couldn’t care.

“I want it!” she screamed, spearing herself on the orc’s shaft, her pupils glowing, changing. Her orgasm thrummed through her, yet she didn’t stop riding her monstrous lover. “I want it all! Yes! Yes! Fuck me! I need monster coooock!”

The Red Witch grinned wide as she saw Ghostheart grunt, gripping the empress’s hips as he drove his cock into her, his tusks bared in pleasure. With a sudden bellow the orc slammed her down to the hilt, and came.

Damera wailed in ecstasy as the orc’s foul seed pumped into her fertile womb. She felt the symbol of the eye brand her mons, the curse seizing her. All her battles, all her suffering ended, lost, lost to the pleasure of being bred by a monster. And yet, the curse was not done.

Black swirls like patterned ink spread across her pale flesh. Damera cried out, arching, pushing out her plump tits as the signs crawled over her curving breasts, swirling about her nipples. The patterns framed the eye upon her mons. Her pupils thrummed in the form of glowing hearts. Her breasts engorged, growing larger, heavier, firmer. Her hips swelled out under the touch of the sorcerous markings, giving the already curvy empress the figure of a brood mother.

“Yesss!” Damera screamed, lost in ecstasy. She wailed as she came again, peaking as the curse took hold of her. Enslaved her. Turned her into the perfect slut for monster cock. “Yes! Fill me! Fill me with your cum! Make me your slut! Yes! Yes! Breed me! Fuck me! Make me a monster whore! I need it! I need monster cock so baaaad!”

Ghostheart grabbed her breasts, making the empress keen with delight as he continued to pound her pussy. Her hips moved, aiding him in fucking her, letting her pussy tighten and massage his cock.

The Red Witch laughed at the eagerness of the empress. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want to fight for your kingdom? For your empire?”

“Nooo!” Damera moaned, her breasts bouncing, her cunt tightening as she pounded herself down on the orc’s cock. Eager to pleasure him. Desperate to make him fuck her still harder. To bring her to new heights she had never dreamed. “No! I just… ah… I want to be fucked! I want to be a monster slut! It’s so… nnn! Much better! Ah. Mnnn! Yes! Yes! Ahhhh!”

She came again, her eyes pulsing with adoration, her plump lips parted, breath steaming in the air as she came again. It was all too much for the once empress. All too wonderful. Too glorious.

Ghostheart unsheathed his cock from her and pushed her to the ground. Damera gasped, climbing on to her hands and knees. She stayed there, held by some silent compulsion to submit. That this was where she belonged. For a moment she was afraid she wouldn’t be fucked anymore, but then she felt the orc’s hands on her gravid hips, and those fears melted away.

Damera Istanova raised her head. Before her she could see the city of Kirinovo. Fires were already engulfing the houses. Smoke billowed in dark clouds into the air. Monsters gambolled in the streets, seizing fleeing soldiers and townspeople, slaughtering the men, taking the women wherever they happened to be, fucking them, claiming them and branding them with the curse of breeding. Turning wails of despair into screams of sweetest pleasure. Damera watched as the last of her army, the last true stronghold of her people was destroyed in an orgy of pleasure and flame, and found she didn’t care.

In fact, as Ghostheart’s cock plowed into her tight ass, she could only moan in delight, thrusting back against him. Gods. Gods, if only she’d known how wonderful it was to be fucked by monster cock! If only she could have guessed! She never would have bothered fighting the Duke if she’d known being bred by a monster was so good. So wonderful! So positively the best thing that could ever happen to her!

“Yessss!” she screamed as Ghostheart began to fuck her, his hips spanking her plush bottom with every thrust, the orc’s massive form looming behind her, his musk and the rusty scent of blood sending her head spinning, her breasts swaying beneath her as she thrust back against him. “Yes! Fuck your slut! Breed me again! Oh yes. Yes! Fuck your monster sluuuuut! Fill me with your seed! Stuff me with your young! Oh gods. Gods yes! I want it! I want to be your monster breeder! Yesssss!”

Her scream of joy rose into the night, joining those echoing across Kirinovo. Cries of pain. Of surrender. And wails of ecstasy as the survivors were claimed, and shown the future. The future of the monster rule.

Messages

Androse moaned as he thrust into his newest slut. The young woman gasped and cried out, her plush breasts bounced on her chest, her face tight with pleasure. If it was fake, Androse hardly cared. All that mattered to him was her eager submission to his royal cock. Her back was on his throne, a crown from a place in the treasure pile askew on her brown locks, shifting every time he pushed into her again.

“That’s it! Take it, whore! You like that? You like taking your emperor’s cock?”

“Oh yes!” she gasped. “Yes! My emperor! More. More! Fuck me! Fuck my cunt!”

Androse roared with laughter as he hilted within her, his portly belly resting against her mons. He shuddered as he came, the young woman moaning as he pumped his seed into her clutching folds. “Mnnn! Yes. That’s a good whore. You love it, don’t you? You’d crawl across broken glass for the chance of my seed. For even a glimmer of the opportunity to carry the heir to Istanov!”

“Oh yes. Yes,” panted the woman. She lay, sprawled back, her generous chest heaving as she gazed up at the emperor. “Anything… Oh my lord…”

Androse barked a laugh and suddenly reached out, grabbing her hair. She yelped in pain as he yanked her hair back. “And what makes you think you’re worthy of carrying the royal heir?” he demanded, his mercurial mood switching sharply. He grinned in delight of torment, his cock stirring once more at the pain and fear in her eyes. “Well? Answer! Or maybe I should make you crawl across some broken glass.”

“M-my emperor. I… I don’t know if… if Im worthy. Only you can judge, my emperor…”

Androse cocked a brow, considering her words. Then he laughed again. “Well done! You’re not as stupid as you seem. Exactly, whore! Only I can determine who’s worthy to bear my seed. Not the Red Mages. Not Heimsvak. No one!”

“Oh y-yes my emperor,” the woman moaned, lifting her hips, grinding her cunny against his cock. “Only you rule Istanov! Only you can guide it!”

“Hm! You surprise me, whore. I didn’t think you’d catch on so quick. Maybe I should give you a title. Gods above know the ones who have them don’t deserve them. But first,” Androse grinned, beginning to thrust into her once again. “I believe further proof of your loyal service is requi-“

A knock on the great doors called his attention. Panting, he glanced back. “What!”

“My emperor,” his chamberlain intoned from the other side. “There is news from Kirinovo.”

Androse’s eyes sparked. Without another word he unsheathed his cock from the whore, leaving her on the throne, his cum dribbling from her well fucked cunt. Androse did up his robe as he crossed the floor and opened the door. “What?”

The chamberlain, a thin man with a dour expression like all the joy had been sucked from his face decades past, bowed. His eyes flicked to the woman panting on the throne but he said nothing. “My emperor. We received a message from some of our scouts who were watching the city. Our losses in their ranks are- “

“Do I look like I fucking care?” Androse interrupted impatiently. His jowls shook with eagerness as his hands tightened, fingers curled like claws in his eagerness. “Tell me what happened! What happened to the city?”

The chamberlain nodded, his head bobbing on his long neck. “Yes, my emperor. It appears that Kirinovo has fallen to the Duke of Ashes and his forces.”

“And my sister?” Androse eagerly said. “What happened to her? Do we know?”

“One man managed to escape the city, my emperor, and brought news before he died of his wounds. It seems she did not escape the fall,” the chamberlain said dully.

Androse threw back his head and roared with laughter, his stomach jiggling with his cruel mirth. “I knew it! Ah ha! The stupid whore! I knew she’d fail. She should never have turned on me. Ah ha ha! At last. At last! It’s all coming together! All of my enemies shall fall! All of Istanov shall be mine once more! Ah ha ha ha! Laugh with me, chamberlain!”

“Aha,” the chamberlain said dutifully.

“Now all will know I am the sole ruler of Istanov! No one will question me ever again!”

“Shall I bring your refreshments to celebrate, my emperor,” the chamberlain asked.

“Yes! Bring me wine! Oh, and find me another slut. This one’s getting a bit loose for my cock.”

Still laughing, Androse slammed the door in the man’s face and whirled about. He swept back towards the throne and the panting woman on it. Grabbing her arm, Androse yanked her off the throne and took the seat himself.

“Here, slut. I tire of your cunt. Use your mouth.”

“As… as my emperor wishes,” the woman gasped. She took his slick shaft and stroked him, her delicate fingers working him back up to full mast. Androse moaned, easing back in the throne as the brunette fondled his cock, stroking the sagging flesh of his balls. Her tongue slowly ran up his length, stroking the underside and flicking the head. Androse moaned as her soft lips kissed the tip of his cock. As her lips parted and engulfed the head of his shaft.

“Oh yessss,” Androse moaned as the young woman bobbed atop his cock. “Yes, that’s it! Suck your emperor. Oh what a privilege you have, taking the cock of your ruler. Your master! Mnnn! Keep at it, whore. Oh yes. Fuck. So eager. Hmmnnn… Pleasure your master. What an honor you have! You get to taste the seed of the one true ruler of Istanov!” He cackled, his eyes glimmering as he stared at the vaulted ceiling, the banners of the former realms of the empire still hanging even though their capitals had been reduced to ruins. The emperor began to laugh again, the sound ringing hollowly in the throne room filled with gold and memories of the dead.

Fate of the Fallen Empress

The click of the Duke’s cane echoed among the ruined halls of Kirinovo’s palace. The bodies of its defenders had been strung up in the rafters, their blood dripping down, plinking off the floor and echoing through the once grand hall. For a moment the Duke paused, admiring the gruesome display. His smile widened when he saw the former lord of the city among their number, amulet of office dangling from his throat, rings glittering feebly from his fingers.

“Survivors?” he asked, resuming his walk.

The Red Witch smirked as she followed. “A few maybe managed to run into the woods, but that’s the beauty of a siege. Practically all of them were already stuck inside the city.”

“Yes,” the Duke mused. “The last city. Only Moskov remains. And once it falls.” He chuckled. “At last, Istanov will be no more. And this land will truly be the kingdom of monsters.”

The Red Witch scoffed. “As if it will be able to hold out! They have to be running out of food by now, and they only have the home guard to defend it! This country is ours!”

“What a time to be alive,” Lugin sighed from among the rafters, breathing out a cloud of winding dark smoke.

“Indeed,” the Duke said wistfully. “At long last, this accursed empire will fall.”

“So, I guess you’ll finally have all you wanted,” the Red Witch said.

The Duke glanced her way as they stepped over the shattered doors and into the next hall, where broken windows shone like ragged teeth and shredded banners hung limp in the dead air. “All? Oh no. You underestimate me.”

The Red Witch cocked her head. As they moved down the corridor, sounds could be made out. A heavy thumping and muffled cries. “What do you mean?”

“Did you think Istanov alone was enough? No. Not at all. This world is infested, my dear. Infested by a vermin called man. A foul, wretched thing whose only purpose is to be purged utterly. And I won’t be satisfied until they are wiped from this world. Until every stain of its kind has been expunged.”

The Red Witch cocked a brow as Lugin fluttered after them. “You mean…”

“Exactly,” the Duke breathed, tilting back his head, staring dreamily into the air and the future only he could see. “Once Moskov has fallen, we shall move on. Move to Cleavegrad and seize it! And from there, Heimsvak shall be next. The kingdom will be overrun. Its cities pulled down. Its people enslaved and bred until not a drop of human blood stains this world. Until the monster is all that remains.

“And then?” the Duke mused, raising his hands as if lifting the future out of the darkness of uncertainty. “Then, across the seas. To the lands of deserts and jungles. To Ctharne where the huntresses hide on their little island, plotting their little plots. Humanity will fall. Not only their cities and nations. No. All of humanity. They will be wiped clean from this world.”

The Red Witch gave a low whistle. “That’s shooting for the stars.”

“True. But,” the Duke smirked as they reached an intact door. “Who can stop us?”

He pushed it open, revealing what lay within. It had once been the stables where the baron’s horses had been kept, but now an entirely different kind of animal was within.

Damera kneeled among the straw, her expression rapturous as a minotaur plunged his massive cock into her overstuffed cunt. Her breasts swayed beneath her as she sawed back, her plump bottom spanked by the minotaur’s hip as he thrust into her, his veiny cock slick with cum and pre.

They were far from alone. Gertlings, orcs, and even a couple of wulfen lounged around the room, spent, naked. The evidence of their mating with the moaning former empress stained the floor and straw. Her body was splattered with cum, her ass drooling with their oily seed, her tits painted with it along with the strange, runic markings.

The Duke smirked, walking up to the insatiable empress. He touched the tip of his cane to her chin, tilting back her head. “Well, empress? How are you?”

“Ha… ah… nnn… ha…” Damera panted.

“Are you enjoying your new role? Isn’t being a monster’s cum dumpster far better than being some petty ruler?”

“Oh… nnn! Yes! Yes! Monster cock is so… so good,” Damera gasped, arching as the minotaur shifted, impaling her well stretched pussy at a brand-new angle.

“Oh? You mean you don’t want to be an empress anymore? You don’t want to fight against the monster hordes? But what about your nation? Your people?”

“F-fuck! They n-need fucking! Need monster c-cock! Need to be fucked! Should… should breeeed!” Damera wailed as she came, her mouth a wide O of ecstasy as her juices squirted from around the mighty cock claiming her. “Oh gooooods! Yes! Yes! Empress c-couldn’t c-compare! Monster bitch so much better! Ah! Nnnn! Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck monster sluuuut!”

The Duke laughed, removing his cane from her chin, stepping back and admiring his long-time foe as she was claimed again and again with the thrusting, veiny shaft of her bestial mate. Branded by sorcery and pleasure. Her defiance coming all to nothing under the pleasure of the monster.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” the Red Witch asked him.

“Naturally.” He glanced her way, in particular at her slit, which she was already openly stroking. “And it appears you are as well. Why hold back? This is what we’ve been fighting for.”

The Red Witch cackled and stepped forward. Brazenly she grabbed Damera by the hair and shoved the empress’s face into her cunt. The sorceress moaned as Damera’s eager tongue plunged into her hot cunt, licking her out eagerly and with a slavish devotion that made the witch’s juices run hot and quick.

“Oh fuuuck yes! Yes! Right there you filthy slut. Mnnn!”

The minotaur gave a sudden bellow, his balls tightening as he came, stuffing the empress with his virile seed. Damera moaned into the witch’s pussy as she came with him, her stomach distending from the sheer amount of cum stuffed into her. Yet she endured it. She took it. Her body was no longer that of a mere mortal. She had become more, and yet, less. Cursed to be the perfect pleasure slave. The ultimate creature of raw pleasure and sensual corruption.

The minotaur panted, unsheathing his hose of a cock. He slumped back among the straw, resting like the rest of the monsters within.

“Aw, poor thing!” the Red Witch crooned. “Your slutty cunt is empty! Well!” she giggled. “We can’t have that. Lugin!”

“Oh finally!” the imp cackled. He flapped down behind the empress, Damera eagerly accommodating the imp’s size by lowering her cum stuffed ass and pussy to his level. The imp grinned despite the stew of cum stuffing the empress’s holes. “Oh baby, I have been looking forward to this!”

“Stop… mnnn… preening and fuck the poor slut,” the Red Witch gasped, grinding her cunt against the empress’s face, panting as the empress’s nose nestled against the tuft of hair above her mons.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Lugin said as he lined up his cock and pushed forward.

Damera moaned in pleasure as the imp’s manhood stuffed her. It was so good. She felt so empty, so useless if a cock wasn’t within her. Wasn’t sawing into her and fucking her. Her nipples stiffened with delight, her ass began to beat back against the imp, forcing the diminutive demon to cling to her plush bottom lest he be thrown back from the empress’s eagerness to be fucked.

“Ohhhh gods!” Damera moaned, her eyes shining, empty as midnight pools. But her body more than compensated, eagerly fucking herself against the demon. “Oh gods! Gods yes! Yes! Fuck me! Breed me! Fill my human cunt with your cum! Stuff my womb with your young! Fuck! Yes! Yes! Yessss!”

Damera screamed in joy as she came again, a sound muffled as the Red Witch cruelly shoved the empress’s face back into her cunt. The witch moaned, humping the empress’s face while her ass was claimed by the imp.

The Duke watched it all with a cruel smile. The two human women, fallen. Serving his dark plan eagerly. One a slave, broken, mated, and eager for more. The other mad, cruel, but more than happy to denigrate her own kind for her own pleasure.

The Duke closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the eager mating raptly, his head moving side to side as if to an orchestra’s crescendo. His smile widened as the Red Witch moaned, cumming, her juices dripping from Damera’s chin, all to pool on the cold stone of the stable floor.

With the empress reduced to a plaything, all that remained standing between the Duke and his ultimate victory in Istanov was the pathetic emperor and the Red Mages. A few smaller pockets of scattered resistance remained, but if Moskov fell they would have no hope of relief. The last humans west of the Barrier Mountains would soon learn their lesson.