“I am Lysander,” the one who spoke said, stepping forward. He was by far the biggest—the alpha male of the group. The pack leader. “I am the King of the Spartan Wolves.”
I bowed politely.
“An honor, your majesty,” I said, remembering all my etiquette lessons. The other wolfmen began to laugh.
“That’s the first time I’ve been addressed as such,” Lysander said with a cruel smile. He was surprisingly handsome, especially for someone who had only minutes ago been a terrifying monster…
“I should hope that my ability to recognize nobility in all places will reflect well on me,” I said uncomfortably, not sure what else to say.
“I should think your tits and ass will reflect even better. Why are you still wearing that slutty little tunic, princess? We want to see what we’re getting in exchange for betraying our Spartan masters. You know we risk our lives if we disobey them.”
This actually struck me as surprisingly reasonable. I shot a fiery glance at my father, who cowered well-behind me. I nodded to my hand maidens and they rushed to my sides, easing the tunic over my head. I held up my arms to make it easier for them and then, there I was, revealed in all my naked glory to the wolves. They watched me with hungry eyes, their cruel orbs gazing over my hairless, tanned body, taking in my curves, my dark nipples and my nether lips, peeking out from between my legs.
“Not bad… Not bad at all,” was Lysander’s reply. “But, you claim to be a virgin. How can I be sure of that?”
“Feel free to investigate,” I said immediately. A cracked sob came from my father, which I ignored. I was in control of these negotiations now.
“Very kind of you,” Lysander said, and strode forward. He ran a big, calloused hand over my belly and I couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp as his hand drifted closer and closer to my center. I was getting wetter and I felt myself blush as he pressed his big, thick fingers between my legs. He rubbed my lips a bit, teasing my clit with the rough pads of his fingers, and then slid a single, long digit inside of me. I gasped, leaning my head back. Sure, I had played with myself, pleasuring myself in the bath… What girl of eighteen hadn’t? But this was far more than one of my own dainty fingers. I felt like he might break me, he stretched me so.
“Well, if that isn’t the tightest cunt in all of Greece,” Lysander cackled. “If she’s not a virgin, she’s doing a damned good job of pretending.”
“Then are we in agreement? A night with me, anything you desire… And then you’ll march away from our city?”
“And what do we tell our Spartan masters when they demand to know why we haven’t strung the lot of you up by your entrails?” Lysander asked, rubbing his fingers along my inner thighs. I’d never been touched like this by a man and it was making it very, very hard to concentrate.
“You tell them you were defeated in battle,” I said simply, whimpering as Lysander’s fingers got closer to my tight hole again.
“Ha! And what do you think they’ll do then?”
“They’ll release you from your obligations once they see that you’re no longer potent warriors. And you’ll be free.”
Lysander’s face changed, looking confused and thoughtful at the same time, where before, he had just been cruel and smug.
“You’re a bit too smart for a woman,” he growled. “You’ll need to watch that when you get older. It’ll be the end of you.”
“Do we have an agreement, your majesty?”
Lysander snickered again. If I had reached him on some level, just now, it was gone.
“I’ll never get used to hearing that. We do. We do indeed. Show us to your chambers. And you—“
He turned to my father. “Send us your best wine, your best food. Your daughter will need to keep up her strength tonight and we plan on working up a thirst. And tell your men to stand down—if anyone tries anything, we’ll put the entire town to the fang and claw.”
These wolves carried swords but I doubted they ever used them, when they have so many more fangs, so many more claws than any man could carry swords or spears…
And so, we processed to the palace, a strange little convoy: my father, stopping at wine merchants and butchers ahead of us, placing orders through his humiliated tears. I was still naked but the wolves kept a respectful distance behind me, looking about warily at the citizens who watched us in amazement and shock. Here was their princess, naked, walking behind their king as he groveled and begged for wine and honey and bread and grilled mutton, all followed by the biggest, most terrifying warriors anyone had seen. There were still men, sharpening their swords and spears outside their homes and businesses but they didn’t bother to raise them against the wolves—it was so clear that it would have been useless and besides, they were too shocked to take any sort of action as it was.
We entered the palace and strode through the halls, luxurious with marble and jewels and sculptures, all the spoils of decades of tricking the Spartans and Athenians. Had my great grandfather, the man who elevated Baratheos from a poor fishing village into the wealthy hamlet it was today, imagined how his great-grand daughter would pay for the sins of her family? I’m sure he hadn’t. No one, of course, could have foreseen what Gracchus had done. And no one had foreseen what the Spartans would do in response. And no one had foreseen how I would undo the sins of my father…
My father fell back as we walked down the halls to my chambers, so I took the lead, my bare feet padding along the floor cold floor. By now, my mother and sisters had heard what was happening but they didn’t dare intervene. I saw their eyes peeking out at my from inside their rooms, tears streaming out of them. Did they realize I was doing this for them? I sure hoped that they did.
As we entered my chambers, I could tell the wolves were impressed. These were hard beast men. They were not used to the comforts and pleasures of home, much less a luxurious one. Certainly nothing like this… My plush feather bed must have looked so inviting to them, if only for the promise of sweet, uninterrupted sleep, let alone the virgin they were about to have in it. And that didn’t even take into account the plush couches, stools, pillows, the curtains, everything else, all gold and jewels, and soft silk imported from far afield.
“Bring us wine, your majesty!” one of the wolves roared at my father down the hall before slamming the door shut. Lysander approached me and the others watched, all but salivating. I realized what was happening: as the pack leader, he was alpha. He would be the first to take me, and then the others could take their fill…
“Well, my little princess,” Lysander said, reaching a hand out to stroke my cheek. He eased his helmet off his head, shaking out his dark curls. The other wolves began to undo their armor, revealing a group of handsome young men—such a change from the beasts I knew they could become at any moment. But, of course, would they be beasts still, now that they would men? There was only one way to find out…
“Well, well, well… Now, how shall you save your people?” he asked.
“However you’d like, my lord,” I replied, suddenly terrified. Oh, gods, what had I gotten myself into? I uttered a silent prayer to my namesake, Aphrodite, begging her to give me the strength to please and love these beasts of men, to take them to heights of pleasure they had never experienced and in doing so, keep my city safe…
“I’d like to see you use your imagination,” Lysander ordered. I took a deep breath. What to do? My hands found their way up to my breasts and they began to squeeze my own soft flesh, tweaking my nipples, stroking my dark skin. It felt good but I couldn’t help but feel a little silly, doing this for the wolves, performing for them. They watched in rapt silence, however. Probably, they were more used to taking this by force rather than seeing it offered up to them.
“Like this, your majesty?”
“Yes,” Lysander grunted. I noticed a massive bulge growing beneath his loincloth. Gods, how was I to take that inside of me? Aphrodite, preserve me, please!
I put one leg up on my bed, spread my hips and thrusting th
em forward, so they could all see my delicate little flower—the one that Lysander had decreed was indeed virginal.
“What about this?” I asked breathlessly. “Are you satisfied with this?”
I spread my lips so that they could see how my skin went from dark and tawny on the outside to pink inside. I had had my handmaidens shave my fully the night before and so I must have looked like a girl child to them—but a girl child with all the desirable aspects of a woman to offer and more.
“Very much so,” Lysander grunted, starting to look a little uncomfortable. I smiled. For all his swagger and confidence, he also wasn’t used to having a girl offer herself up so willingly. Maybe this would still be fun…
I ran a finger from the base of my pussy up to my clit, gasping a little as it shot rhythms of electricity and pleasure through my entire body, causing my muscles to tighten delightfully and shake.
“Just like that?” I asked, not really sure what I was referring to.
“Yes,” Lysander grunted. “More.” He began to undo his loincloth. It dropped to the floor, revealing his massive cock and gods, I didn’t even want to think about how I would be taking that. It was huge—as long as a small dog, and almost as thick, with a big, cruel knot at the base, as if it really dig belong to a hound or a wolf. And the others would be almost as big, I was sure…
Placing my hands on the bend, I turned around and bent over, so they could admire my shapely butt. I spread my cheeks, revealing both of my tight holes from behind to them. I was sure they would bugger me—they probably did that to boys they took prisoner, as most soldiers did, so why wouldn’t they do it to me? My mother had warned me that my husband might someday expect me to do that, to accept his cock wherever he wanted, acting like a submissive sheath which would coat and pleasure his meat in any way demanded. She had advised me to start preparing for it and occasionally, when bathing, I would press my fingers into my back hole, imagining what it would feel like to have a giant cock pressed inside of me. But, nothing as big as this…
I slid my finger over my pussy and then over my tight asshole, imagining what they could be thinking. Were they imagining piling on top of me, bending me in every way possible, driving their rods into my body: into my mouth, my pussy, between my breasts? I couldn’t help but get wet at the thought. In fact, I realized that my pussy was leaking down my legs. I blushed a little but of course, I was turned around, so they couldn’t see me…
Then, I felt it. Lysander’s cock, pressed against my tight pussy, the tip just barely starting to slide in.
“It’s quite noble, what you’re willing to do for your city,” he growled. The head was inside. I gasped, my fingers tightening on the bed. Instinctively, my hips pressed back into his. I would have to control that. I couldn’t have him thinking that I wanted this. Even though, honestly, I did. Somehow, I much preferred these men to my father. They were respectful and powerful and confident and honest. They were loyal and, I sensed, perhaps even kind, beneath their fierce, warrior exteriors. Maybe they didn’t rape and pillage after a battle—maybe they were uncomfortable because they could never find any girl who wanted them because what girl wouldn’t be terrified of them?
“Thank you, your majesty,” I whimpered, feeling him slide himself deeper and deeper in. Oh, god, but it was good, even if it hurt. I was so tight and he was stretching me out, spreading my pussy apart, all but tearing it apart. I groaned and gasped, whimpering and not even bothering to control my hips, pressing back into his cock.
“This city does not deserve you. And certainly, that lout of a man, your father, does not deserve you for a daughter or a princess,” Lysander growled, gripping me tightly around the hips, so tight that it hurt, so tightly that it would bruise, as he drove his rod into me, penetrating me, impaling me, impaling me like a I was a big on a spit or a skewer held over fire and the men around me were watching hungry, waiting to feast on my tender flesh…
I could only moan in response to Lysander’s observation. He stopped pressing in and began to slowly remove his length before driving it in again, starting to pump me, each time stretching my sopping cunt wider, working my muscles.
“Oooooh… gods…” I moaned, squeezing my eyes shut, tears dribbling down my cheeks. My pussy squeezed him so tightly that he began to fuck me harder, as if trying to make up for the increased resistance. I felt like he was tearing me apart and I wanted more, more, more! I pressed my hips back further, groaning, and I hit a rhythm with him, his cock driving into me and sliding in deeper and deeper with each thrust.
I allowed myself to open my eyes for a second and I gasped: all the wolves were standing around me and the bed, their cocks out. Yet they weren’t touching their dicks: they were just watching, enjoying the sight, cruel smiles on the faces, waiting for their chance. As rough as this fucking was, what would happen when Lysander literally threw me to the wolves…
“Wine and refreshments,” came a voice from outside. The door opened and through my tears, I recognized one of my hand maidens bringing in a platter of roasted lamb and another bringing a great vat of wine. Their mouths fell open wide as they saw me, their mistress, bent over like a common whore, receiving a giant cock into her tightest, most sacred of place. Lysander winked at them and slapped my ass, eliciting a quick screech from my lips.
The girls darted out of the room, either unable to watch or, more likely, afraid that they would be co-opted into fun.
Lysander was pounding me now, but despite how hard and rough his strokes were, I could tell that he was exercising restraint, not fucking me as hard as he could. I whimpered, squeezed the sheets again as Lysander gripped my tits, squeezing them hard. I yelped and pressed my chest into his big, warm hands.
“Harder!” I demanded. “Harder! I am your princess, and I demand that you take me like a man, not a dog!”
Lysander let out a roaring laugh and slammed me hard… So hard that it sent the knot of his cock into my tightness. I screamed and bit down on the sheets, my pussy muscles squeezing his flesh. I knew there was no chance of me getting away now… He had claimed me. I was his until he came.
I only knew vaguely what that entailed. I knew that a man planted his seed in a woman, much like a farmer sows his seeds in his field, but beyond that metaphor, there was little that I knew. But, I supposed, I was about to find out firsthand what it really meant…
“Is this hard enough for you, little princess?” growled the wolf warrior. “Is this what you wanted? Did you want to be torn apart?!”
“Yes!” I screamed through my tears. “Yes, make me yours! I’m a slave to your wolf pack.”
The other wolves chuckled with delight. They had begun to tuck into the meat and wine and I was glad for it—I felt less awkward with them eating and drinking instead of just watching me. One of them grabbed me by the hair and tilted my head up. He emptied a glass of wine down my throat and I gargled it appreciatively, for my throat was sore from screaming and I knew the wine would dull the pain a bit.
Still, Lysander kept up his assault on my pussy, driving his rod into me over and over, his knot pulsing in my hole, making me scream through the wine. His fingernails dug into my skin, all but drawing blood, but I didn’t care. This big, beautiful Spartan werewolf was claiming me and I wasn’t about to disappoint him.
And then I felt it: what I had been waiting for this entire time. His cock exploded inside of me, spilling his seed into me, spilling his seed as if I were a field that he was sowing. I groaned with each spurt of his fertile cum, groaned as it filled me up. If I survived this… Would I give birth to Lysander’s child? I couldn’t think about this right now but there was no way I would survive the night and no be pregnant, my belly swelling with a little werewolf child, just waiting to tear his way into existence…
Lysander’s growls turned into a howl that let the entire palace know what was happening. It let the entire palace know that their princess was being used, that her insides were being stretched and filled with hot cum. Could they tell what i
t meant? Could they hear my screams and sighs over Lysander’s?
Finally, he pulled his cock out of me. It flopped out, having grown somewhat flaccid post-fucking. I was exhausted from that pounding. I wanted to collapse but I knew I couldn’t. I knew I had to keep serving these insatiable wolves, if only for the benefit of my people.
Immediately, I forced myself to my feet. I got on my knees in front of Lysander, face to face with his slick, messy cock. Even soft, I couldn’t imagine that I had taken that huge thing inside of my tightness. It was a magnificent specimen of flesh, long and veined, with an angry red, swollen cockhead. I grasped it with trembling fingers, as if I were holding a holy relic. I ran my soft, pink tongue along his shaft, eliciting pleased sighs from his mouth as I used my own to pleasure his length. My tongue gloried in the powerful veins and the flesh along his meaty rod. I would slide from the base of his cock up to the swollen cockhead, finally taking it in my mouth, swirling my hungry tongue around him as I eased his cock down my throat.
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