The Pillaging of an Empire

by Amanda Clover

  “Yet,” Pavior breathed, leaning in, his eyes gleaming in the lamplight. “I don’t fear you. I let you go back to him, because I didn’t fear him. I knew you wouldn’t betray me to him. Knew that you would come back to me. That you would let your desires rule you.” His hand slid down her body, tracing the curve of her hip, cupping her mound, feeling the heat of her pussy through her panties. “Because you want this. You need this. You need to submit to me. To let me take you like the beast your people name me. Don’t you?”

  “Y-yessss,” Madia moaned, arching, pressing her pussy against him palm, her breast into his grasp. “Gods yessss.”

  “Then show me.”

  Madia trembled as she slid down his front. Her knees hit the floor, her face level with his colossal cock. Her hands trembled as she reached out and touched his inhuman shaft. Not from fear. Her shaking was that of an addict in the grip of ague. She stroked his thick shaft, her breath coming in gasps as she watched him stiffen to attention in her hands. He rumbled. “Good,” Pavior hummed.

  Madia flushed with pleasure at his praise. She wanted more of it. More of him. She opened her mouth and took the crown of his cock between her pouty lips, sucking adoringly at the head of his shaft. Pavior grunted, fisting her hair. She winced, tears springing to the corner of her eyes even as she began to bob, taking more of his cock into her mouth.

  Her tongue swirled around his shaft, gathering as much of his flavour as she could. She moaned softly, her body warming as she serviced the monster her husband was dedicated to slaying. She bobbed faster. Faster.

  “Hrrrn… Not… bad. Touch my balls. Stroke them. Feel the seed I’ll be filling you with.”

  She did as he commanded. She cradled his balls, stroking them and fingering them. They filled her hand, and she recalled the sensation when he came in her, pumping her full of his bestial seed. She hollowed her cheeks for more suction, desperate to taste it. To taste him!

  “Yesss. Yes! Here it comes. Swallow it all, slut. Swallow your master’s cum. I… ah… har!”

  He grunted, hips bucking. His cock twitched in her lips and he came.

  Madia moaned as his thick seed fountained into her mouth. Frantically her throat worked, swallowing his hot, virile seed. But it was too much. Filled her faster than she could swallow. She fell back, choking, and his cock pulsed again, painting her generous teats with a sudden burst of his ropy cum.

  Madia moaned weakly, massaging his seed into her tits. Pavior looked down at her with amusement.

  “You failed,” he noted. “Unsurprising. No doubt your husband can’t cum half so much. A pity. Had I gotten you when you were younger, you would have made a fine cock sucker.”

  Madia looked up at him blissfully, the taste of his cock and cum drowning her mouth. “Thank you,” she said.

  Pavior jerked his head towards the bed, his brown curls fanning about his handsome face. “On the bed. It’s high time I took you once more.”

  Madia’s heart soared. Eagerly she scrambled to her feet and onto the bed. She gasped as his broad palm slapped her soft bottom, pale flesh rippling from the impact. “Ass in the air, slut. It’s time I took you like the bitch you so want to be.”

  “Y-yes,” Madia murmured, beyond resisting him. She wanted this. She needed this. The feel of his thick cock pounding her clutching cunt. Her body yielding to his brutal mating. She pressed her breasts and face into the silks, raising her bottom enticingly towards the towering male. She peeked past her shoulder, eyes shining with need.

  Pavior stroked her hip, admiring the eagerness she submitted with. His large finger hooked her panties and tugged them down, baring the pink slit of her cunt. He chuckled. “Here it is,” he said, delicately rubbing her cunt. She moaned weakly with pleasure as his finger pushed inside of her. “Loose. Little wonder with your children. And no doubt as lovely as their mother.”

  “Th-thank you,” Madia murmured.

  Pavior nodded to himself. “You’re welcome, slut. Now. Are you ready?”

  Madia nodded shakily. “Y-yes. Please, Pavior. Please…”

  “So needy,” the satyr chuckled as he grasped her shapely hips, Madia moaning weakly as his hands sank into her soft curves. “Perfect.”

  She felt his spit slickened cock press against her dewy folds. A shuddering moan escaped her as Pavior pushed into her once again. The sensation was even greater than the first time. Then, fear had stll coloured her experience. Now, there was only a need, raw and primal and desperate for him. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth opening in an O of ecstasy. She rubbed her cheek against the blankets as more of his cock stuffed her loose cunt, then draw back, and thrust.

  “Ahnnnn!” Madia cried out. “Ooooh yesss! Yes! Fuck meeee. Fuck my human pussy! Ah. Ah!”

  “Look at you!” Pavior laughed as he thrust into her rippling cunt. “Noble woman! Husband to a red mage, and now taking a monster’s cock. Shall I cum in you again? Shall I breed your noble womb? Your fertility is guaranteed.”

  “Yessss!” Madia screamed, past any other consideration. Her husband, her daughters, all forgotten in the wake of the sensation of his cock pounding into her. “Yes! Oh fuck! Fuck me master! Breed my slutty pussy! Take meeeeee!”

  Pavior roared with laughter and then truly began to thrust. The heavy slap of his groin into her ass soon had it stinging and red, every impact sending waves of pleasure shooting through her. Madia’s vision swam. Pavior leaned over her, the fur on his chest tickling her back as he hungrily fucked her. His hand grasped her cheek, a finger slipping into her mouth. Wantonly, Madia sucked his finger.

  She came. Her orgasm exploded through her in a storm of pleasure that sent her thoughts spinning.

  She came, panting, gasping, sucking as his cock pounded her rippling cunt.

  She came again, and felt Pavior increase his pace. She realized again he was humming. Murmuring a sound that throbbed through her flushing form, consuming her in waves of sound, preceding every gasp of pleasure. Washing her thoughts to nothing but the sensation of his cock within her, her body’s answering shudders of ecstasy.

  “Who am I?” Pavior asked, taking his finger from her lips.

  “Ooooh!” Madia moaned.

  “Who, slut?”

  “Master!” Madia gasped. “Masteeeer! Pleaaase! Please cum in me! Please!”

  Pavior bellowed with laughter as he thrust home again and again. “Very well! Take it, slut! Take my seed!”

  His roar rose, his cock throbbed, and as his body tensed around her, she felt his seed burst into her cunt.

  Madia cried out, helpless, defenceless against the almost painful height of that sensation. The music ringing in her soul reached a crescendo. Her orgasm blinded her. Deafened her. The world vanished in a white haze of pure bliss.

  His cum filled her. Leaked from their joining so thoroughly did he stuff her. Madia trembled, moaning, whimpering, gasping.

  Pavior let out a great grunt like a bull appeased. He unsheathed himself from her, and Madia collapsed, head lolling among the sheets, cum drooling from her snatch.

  She felt the bed shift and rolled her head towards Pavior as he lay down beside her. “You are a lovely creature, Madia,” he mused.

  She smiled. “Th-thank you… master…”

  Pavior toyed with a lock of her hair, his eyes lidded with thought, his smile encouraging and warm. “No doubt your daughters take after you too.”

  “Mmmnn,” Madia moaned softly.

  Pavior’s smile widened. He leaned in closer. “And no doubt, you want what is best for them.”

  “Course…” she murmured blissfully.

  “Good,” Pavior breathed. “And what could be better, I ask you, then for them to experience such… heights?”

  Madia blinked slowly. There was… something off about that. Something strange. “I… I don’t…”

  “Madia?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t question. You should only… obey me.”

  Obey.

  The word seeped throu
gh her. It slid like honey through her ears and drowned her mind in a sudden swell of warm bliss. Her lips rose in a smile. “Yes, Master.”

  “Good. Now. Here is what you shall do…”

  A Family Affair

  “Are you sure about this, mother?”

  Madia glanced back at her daughters, smiling easily. “Of course. Girls. There’s some things your governess simply can’t teach you. Don’t worry. He’s an excellent instructor.”

  Anette fidgeted nervously but Amelia nodded, her eyes bright with excitement. There was something intensely adventurous about the whole situation for the young woman. Her sister, unsurprisingly, was more reserved and uncertain. She kept glancing back at the manor with unease.

  Madia adjusted her dark cloak. Similar garb covered her daughters, adding to the mystique. She swayed slightly where she stood, a gentle piping audible to her ears alone, singing up her body like teasing fingers.

  Her daughters jumped at the sudden clatter of wheels on stone. Madia merely turned, her smile widening as the dark carriage rolled to a halt before them. The door opened and she ushered her daughters inside. Amelia fairly leapt into the carriage, Anette more uncertainly, but in they went. Madia shut the door tight behind them, and then they were off.

  Madia eased back into her seat, listening to the rattling of the carriage wheels. Expectation trilled through her, the warmth of her master’s song soothing her.

  The carriage stopped and she stepped outside. Her daughters stared at the old house they stood before with its curtained windows and ancient presence. Ah to experience it for the first time, Madia mused to herself, even as she ushered her daughters up the steps and through the door.

  The painted woman met them in the foyer. Anette gasped, Amelia stared at the brazen creature and the silver chain which bound her nipples. The painted woman smiled and bowed. “The master will see you.”

  The master…

  The word sank into Madia like a balm. “Thank you,” she breathed.

  Anette plucked her sleeve. “Mother?”

  “Don’t worry, Anette. I know it seems strange, but it’s all alright,” she said soothingly. She took her daughters, tucking them against her sides like a mother hen, and ushered them down the dark corridor into the deeper realms of the brothel.

  They passed the rooms where gasps and moans echoed through the doors. But those sounds were as nothing compared to when Madia finally made out the teasing tones of the flute. She shuddered, lips parting with ecstasy as the sound of her master’s playing reached not just her soul, but her ears of flesh. Worries sloughed off her like a gown. She felt bare. Lovely. And wonderous.

  Amelia cocked her head. “What… is that?”

  “Wonder, Amelia,” Madia murmured. “Wonder.”

  They reached the large door to her master’s sanctum and Madia opened it, ushering her daughters inside. Amelia and Anette stopped in their tracks when they beheld pavior.

  The satyr sprawled over a divan, one leg crossed over the other, hoof tapping the air lazily. He was naked, his broad, furred frame on full display, the bone pipes at his lips. As they entered, he let the instrument fall, the trilling music slowly fading. He lifted his handsome face, dark eyes gleaming as he took in the three women.

  “A monster!” Amelia gasped.

  Anette made a startled sound, turned to her mother.

  “I brought them,” Madia said.

  “So you did,” Pavior mused. He rose slowly, dark eyes bright with amusement and pleasure. He stepped forward, towering over them, and gave a short bow. “Hello, girls. I am Pavior. The owner of this establishment. Welcome.”

  Anette clutched her mother’s arm. Amelia took a step back, glanced to the door uncertainly. “You… you can talk?”

  Pavior laughed, a rich, hearty sound. “Of course! Surely you didn’t think that all monsters are merely the mindless brutes your father takes us for? No matter,” he said, waving his hand errantly. “This is why I asked your mother to bring you. To… expand your knowledge of the world.”

  “You… you won’t hurt us?” Anette asked shakily.

  Pavior smiled warmly. “My dears. I wouldn’t dream of it. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

  His heavy fingers touched the flute dangling from his neck, lifting the pale bone instrument to his lips. He gave it a soft blow.

  The sound reverberated through the room. Anette’s grip on her mother’s cloak loosened. Amelia stared, awestruck at the massive male as he gently played.

  Madia melted to the soft tones. Her shoulders eased, her eyes grew lidded and bliss warmed her expression. The song filled the room like a haze. The paintings on the wall seemed to shimmer, the shape of the goat rutting with the woman shifting as if possessed by the motions. The lamps flickered, dimming.

  The three became more acutely aware of the satyr. Of the scent of his musk, the warmth radiating from his body. They felt that strange, primeval power that filled him radiate outwards. The sound of the music he played like a physical caress, stroking their bodies, seeping beneath the trappings of their clothes and running down their naked flesh. Amelia’s eyes grew warmer. Anette released her mother’s cloak, lips parting in awe.

  Pavior let the flute fall away and took the three in with pride and mirth. Despite the fact he no longer played the flute, its song still seemed to fill the air with vibrations of awe. “Daughters of man,” he said, spreading wide his hands. “You have no need to fear me. For I am what all women want. I am the beast in the man. I am the wildness that you feel in the very marrow of your bones. I am all you desire in primeval form. Now. Come to me. Let me show you the truth.”

  Amelia and Anette stepped away from their mother. Their eyes were dark, heavy and warm. Entranced by the song. Drawn to the bestial satyr like magnets. Madia hung back, watching with pride as her daughters walked into the satyr’s embrace, his arms looping around their shoulders, his large hands engulfing soft breasts.

  Amelia gasped, pressing against the satyr adoringly as he touched her. She looked up, and when he leaned down she melted to his kiss, submitting with a quivering anticipation of raw pleasure. Anette ran her fingers through the fur on the satyr’s chest, awestruck by it. She nuzzled it, licking his leathery flesh shyly, like a kitten might cream.

  Pavior eased back, settling on the divan. Both women came with him, pressing themselves against him. He broke his kiss with Amelia, bestowing it next on Anette, the youngest of the sisters gasping at the sensation of his dominating kiss. His hands moved slowly, stripping away their clothes. Soon enough both women were helping him, eagerly wriggling out of their cloaks and gowns, even their underwear until nothing stood between their ripe, youthful bodies and the satyr’s immense one.

  Madia watched with worshipful delight as her daughters submitted to the satyr’s touch. She didn’t join them. She knew if Pavior wanted her, he would call her. But she did tease aside the hem of her skirt, her finger wandering up her mound to her slit. She hadn’t worn any underwear. She knew it was unnecessary. Clothes were unnecessary, and if not for her need to hide her new nature, she’d have done away with them long ago.

  But there would be a time, she knew, her finger dipping into her warm honeypot, her breathing deepening and body burning. There would soon be a time when she would divest herself of the trappings of civilization. Shed her clothes and modesty, and embrace the lust of the beast and monster.

  Amelia pressed her pale curves against the satyr’s body, eagerly inhaling his musk like an addict. Pavior touched her head, gently pushing her down. Her body slid off his lap until she kneeled between his furry legs, and found herself level with his inhuman cock. Adoringly, with all the eagerness of the virgin debased, she nuzzled his thick cock like it were some savage idol, her tongue licking at his musky balls, her own fingers dancing against her gash.

  Anette had turned about, her ass tucked snugly against Pavior’s chest. His hands massaged her pert young breasts, the youngest Oravor sister whining and gasping, her mouth an O of pleasure a
s she submitted to the rough caress of her monstrous lover. Pavior leaned over her shoulder, catching her next cry in a kiss, even as one hand abandoned her firm breast and slid a finger into her cunt.

  Anette groaned, moaning weakly as she rocked against the thrusting finger and relished the monster’s tongue. Enthralled. Helpless. And adoring every moment of it. Pavior growled, a sound that shot up the three woman like the rumble of a panther when humanity still clung to the trees. Weakened them. Sent them reeling with a terrible need for the potent male.

  “Join your sister,” Pavior commanded.

  Anette nodded, her eyes dark, glazed with pleasure and submission. She slid off Pavior’s knee, a whimper escaping her as his finger slid from her rippling cunt. The pair kneeled between the satyr’s legs, worshipping his balls and the thick rod of his cock.

  Pavior chuckled, settling back in the divan, his eyes glowing with a terrible triumph as he watched the daughters of his enemy worship at the altar of his manhood. As their mother watched on, frantically masturbating, all the while the terrible music of the satyr’s scrimshaw pipes continued to sing through the room in a ghostly moan of pleasure.

  Pavior’s breathing deepened, his immense chest rising and falling with heavy pants. He suddenly rose, grabbed his thick cock and began to pump it. Madia’s daughters stared up at the satyr, lost, but aware they mustn’t move. Madia knew what was going to happen. She panted, eyes bright, afire as Pavior pumped his cock twice more and, with a roar, came.

  His seed exploded from his cock, splashing over the two kneeling women. Ropes of his thick cum basted the pair in sudden ropes of pearly white. Amelia and Anette gasped, then moaned, caressing the sticky cum into their breasts and faces, shuddering with adoration of the gift their master had bestowed on them.