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 the
y 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.
Downfall of the Empress Page 2