Pavior exhaled heavily, admiring his work. As he stared at the two girls, their pale, youthful bodies caked with his seed, his cock began to harden once more.
“On the bed,” he commanded. “It’s time you took your master’s cock.”
Amelia and Anette nodded dumbly. Together, the sisters rose and went to the bed, lying down on their backs. Amelia pulled up her knees, baring the puckered hole of her dewy cunt and tight ass. Madia wondered where she had learned that. But the brazenness of her daughter was contrasted oddly with Anette’s more reserved and shy parting of her thighs, the nervous youngest daughter fidgeting with her hands, eager to please yet nervous.
Pavior admired the two delicacies of contrasting womanhood before him. His smile darkened with pleasure as his cock rose to full mast. He moved over them, grabbed Anette’s thighs, and teased forward his cock.
Madia gasped as Anette cried out softly, the satyr’s thick cock pushing into her. It couldn’t possibly fit. But the satyr then put his flute to his lips, and softly blew. Anette eased, relaxing, her body submitting to the satyr’s cock. With a low chuckle Pavior thrust deeper, impaling the young woman on his cock, and slowly began to fuck her.
Anette gasped, moaned, her whole body shaking with the impact of Pavior’s thighs against her mons. Amelia suddenly straddled her sister, mashing her breasts against Anette’s, so lost in the sound of the pipes and the pleasures promised them both any rules or conventions of society were forgotten. Madia’s heart beat faster as her daughters began to kiss, rubbing their cum smeared breasts against each other as Anette’s virgin cunt was taken, plundered by the monster.
Pavior laughed aloud at the sight. His pace quickened, ruthlessly fucking Anette, sending her gasping, moaning, crying out weakly with every plunging thrust of his cock. Pavior’s grunting cries grew louder. With a sudden groan of pleasure he hilted within Anette, and came.
Anette cried out. Madia mirrored it, her fingers driving her to an orgasm, her moan joined by Pavior’s bleat of ecstasy as he came, stuffing Madia’s daughter with his monstrous seed. Not even bothering to wait, Pavior unsheathed his cock from Anette and plunged it into Amelia’s sodden cunt.
“Oooooh!” Amelia gasped, then her face was pulled back to Anette’s drowned in another kiss of sisterly pleasure. Amelia rocked eagerly against the plunging cock of the satyr, Pavior groaning.
“Ohhh yes! Both virgin. Wonderful. I really must… hr… thank your mother… For keeping you so pure for me.”
“Mnnnn!” Amelia and Aette chorused, lost in the pleasure of their embrace and the satyr’s lusts.
Pavior laughed roughly and plunged into Amelia’s cunt with new vigour.
On it went. Madia watched as her daughters were defiled in every way she could dream by the potent satyr. She moaned softly, delighting in their every cry and gasp and weak whimper as Pavior took them in ways their future husbands would never dared.
The hours slid past in a haze of song and chorus of pleasured sighs. The slap of flesh on flesh and the weakened whimpers as Amelia and Anette succumbed to the monster’s lusts. And Madia watched it all, stroking herself to orgasm after orgasm, relishing the debased sight of her daughter’s degradation.
At last, Pavior was satisfied. He lay on the bed, his broad frame gleaming with sweat, his musk thickening the air even more than before. Amelia and Anette lay on his chest, their youthful bodies shaking with weakened pleasure, their eyes aglow with submissive need, their pussies leaking their master’s seed.
Only then did Pavior crook his finger towards Madia. The older woman shuffled forward, her eyes bright with devotion.
“Master?” she breathed.
“Bring your daughters tomorrow,” Pavior said lazily, stroking the pair against him. “We’re leaving.”
“Leaving, master?”
“The city,” Pavior said. “My work is done here. It’s time to begin the new age. That of the monster.”
Madia stared. “I… I don’t understand, master.”
“You don’t need to,” Pavior said dismissively, stroking the firm rears of her daughters, squeezing them and making them moan weakly. “Just do as I tell you. Understand?”
Madia nodded, bowing her head. “Of course. Master.”
“Good,” Pavior said. “That’s all you need to do, slave. Obey.”
Madia smiled happily, the word echoing through her core like a universal truth. “Of course. Master.”
Loss and Gains
Madia adjusted her cloak one last time and took a look at herself in the mirror. She smiled at how she looked and gave a small twirl, delighting in how the fabric of her skirt fanned about her hips. She’d done up her hair in a coif and her breasts were partly revealed in an almost brazenly plunging neckline. Her soft rump swelled against the rear of her dress and a necklace of bloodstone gleamed about her neck like red stars. She giggled softly. Tonight. Tonight it would all be finished.
She opened the door, hurrying down the steps. Her daughters waited eagerly at the landing. Amelia and Anette held hands, looking into each other’s eyes with blissful awareness of themselves as women and their purposes. Madia felt her heart throb with love for the pair and what they had discovered.
“Madia?”
The voice broke into her world like a sour note. Madia’s expression fell and she turned to see her husband at the top of the stairs. Arven looked down at the trio in confusion, his expression drawn and worried.
“Oh. Hello Arven.” Madia glanced to her daughters. “Wait outside, girls.”
“Yes mother,” they chimed, opening the door and stepping out.
“Madia,” Arven said, slowly descending the stairs. “What’s going on?”
Madia flicked some hair from before her face. “I’m leaving, Arven.”
“Leaving?”
“Yes. Things have changed, Arven. Changed a great deal. I’m taking the girls with me. It’s time we started a new life.”
Arven stopped at the foot of the stairs. His hand gripped the banister, his hooded eyes staring into her. “Madia… I don’t understand.”
“This isn’t enough for me anymore,” Madia said, gesturing at the house and him by extension. “I suppose I just never realized what I truly wanted.”
“Is this about my work? Madia, it’s going so well! We’re nearly done. The monstrous cabal is being rooted out. Things will get better, I promise.”
Madia looked at her husband, and at the pain in his face, a sudden stab of agony pierced her. She hesitated. But then, from somewhere deep in the night, she heard a sound.
Madia’s body slowly relaxed as the trill of the bone flute seeped through her. She looked at Arven, who had his head slightly cocked, as if trying to hear something he couldn’t quite make out. “It’s too late,” Madia said to her husband, her expression grow distant and eager with expectation. “I’ve moved on, Arven. There’s more for me out there now. More than I could ever find here.”
Hiss concentration broken, Arven looked back to her. “Madia. I-”
She heard the rattle of wheels on stone. “Goodbye.”
She turned and opened the door, stepping into the chill Poranovo night. The dark carriage was drawn up, her daughters already inside. The darkness beckoned her, and she climbed in. She looked back once, seeing her husband framed in the doorway of their home. She smiled listlessly, and shut the carriage door, settling into her seat as it lurched into motion.
As they were ferried through the city, Madia relaxed in her seat. Her old life receded, drowned in the dark city that was her home. But no longer. Her daughters whispered and giggled to one another, their faces flushed with the anticipation of the pleasure at their master’s hands. Madia shivered with anticipation for his touch. For his command. To obey her master.
The carriage rolled to a stop with a rattle, and they got out. A number of carriages were drawn up before the house, much to Madia’s surprise. But she paid them little heed. Like in a dream the three women walked up to the ancient house and pu
shed inside.
The painted woman was gone, but that didn’t bother Madia and the girls. They knew where their master would be. Called to him like silver strings were bound to their hearts, the trio floated through the foyer and down the hall.
Pavior stood within the sitting room. He hadn’t bothered to wear the coat, gloves, or hide his horns. He stood before them, glorious in his bestial vigour, his eyes bright and hungry as they fell on the three women come to him. He extended his arms and Madia’s daughters raced to him, shedding their clothes with cries of glee. Their firm, youthful bodies collided with Pavior’s hard frame, the pair moaning and rubbing themselves against their master in all his masculine glory.
“Hello my lovelies,” Pavior grinned, openly groping the pair, sending them gasping, twitching, writhing against him in brazen desire. Already Amelia and Anette’s faces were twin suns of rosy lust, burning as they gazed up at him, eyes glassy in eager desire and obedience.
Madia stepped forward. “Master?”
Pavior glanced towards her. “Ah yes. Madia. I think your daughters need another close session with me. After all, it would be such a shame for them not to begin this journey without being sure they bore my young.”
His hands touched the stomachs of the two women in his grasp. Both gasped, moaning weakly, and as Madia looked on, some sort of symbol seemed to glow just above their mons.
“Oh. Of course,” Madia said, unable to hide the disappointment from her voice.
Pavior chuckled. “Hm. But I see that you need something. And I am not such a cruel master that I would deny you. Come.”
Pavior turned and opened the hidden door in the wall with a wave of his hand. Eager anticipation had Madia patter after him and into the long, stone tunnel that ran through the dark estate. As they walked, the soft gasps and needy moans of her daughters echoing around her, Madia felt her anticipation morph into something different.
Pavior stopped before a familiar door and eased it open. Madia blinked as she stepped through, her nose twitching at the rank odour of musk.
The troll rose from where it crouched, troglodytical frame hunched forward, eyes gleaming from its craggy face. It bared its broken teeth in a low sound like a growl.
“This creature will be suitable to pleasure you,” Pavior said, fondling Amelia’s hip, his other hand groping Anette’s modest, firm teat. “Enjoy his attentions, Madia.”
Madia looked at the troll, for a moment confused. She glanced back to Pavior. “Master?”
“Ah,” the satyr mused. “Perhaps you need some… encouragement.”
He took his hand from Anette’s breast and lifted the scrimshaw flute to his lips. He gave it the faintest blow.
The sound wrapped around Madia like a warm cloak. She shuddered, her nipples tenting her gown, her pussy dampening with need. A sudden awareness of everything around her seared her, sending her mind reeling and body trembling with a sudden overpowering lust. Wild, heavy heat blossomed in her core, like the heat of an animal in spring.
Pavior took the flute away, smirking. “Come, my dears. Let us leave your mother to it.”
Pavior departed, but Madia barely noticed. Her eyes were affixed to the lurking troll, his warty cock jutting out from between his legs. She stepped towards him, her heart beating faster. Yes. Yes, it was kind of her master to give her to this beast. It would be better… so much better…
She stepped into the troll’s reach, just as Cariana had that night what felt a lifetime ago. For a moment, Madia wondered what had happened to her former companion. Then the thought faded away, her body shuddering as she inhaled a sudden gasp of the troll’s musk.
The monstrous denizen beneath the brothel reached out. His massive hand hooked the plunging line of her dress and tore. Madia gasped, her breasts bouncing free. The troll growled, the sound so animal, so bestial it sent fear and a terrible lust blazing through Madia like fire.
“I… no hurt,” the troll grunted.
Madia stared at him in awe. “You… you can talk?”
The troll nodded, his hooked nose swaying. “Pavior keeps here. Gives women doesn’t want. I mate.” His claw tipped hands grasped her skirt and tore it aside, the fine silks fluttering to the muddy ground.
Madia’s mouth opened. She inhaled deeply, her eyes shining as the bestial troll took her ass in his rough grasp. “We mate. Leave tonight. Pavior go to master. We join. We breed women. No more man. Only monster.”
Madia’s heart throbbed. Some part of her registered a sudden terror at the monster’s words. But that faded, washed aside before the hard eyes of the brutish monster. She slowly went down to her knees, sliding down the troll’s front. She took his cock in her hands and began to stroke, feeling the warty flesh stiffen in her hands.
“Yesss,” Madia moaned softly as the troll grunted, hardening in her touch. “Yes. Breed us, monster. Take us. Fill me with your young. I want it. I want your cock so badly.”
The troll growled. A sound so low, so potent, so fiercely powerful and hungry that Madia couldn’t stop herself. She leaned in, taking his shaft between her lips, sucking that monstrous tool with all the skill she had. The troll growled, his hooked fingers grasping her hair, her coifed blonde locks coming unbound to hang in a wild tangle around her head. The bloodstone around her neck bobbed and shook with her eager movements, her tongue alive with the sharp flavour of the monster’s cock.
“Mmmm,” Madia moaned. Though it was a far cry from servicing her master, there was something strangely arousing about servicing this monster as well. Something more base and degrading. A sensation that made her heart beat faster, her blood pounding through her veins with the eager expectation.
“Hrrrr,” the troll growled. His hands tightened in her hair. His cock began to thrust more eagerly. Madia felt his climax near. She sucked harder, hollowing her cheeks.
“Rrr… rrr! Raaaa!” The troll howled and came, his cum pumping into her mouth. The foul taste burst onto her palate, sending her mind reeling. Madia moaned, swallowing eagerly, sucking more, more, as much as she could from the troll’s fountaining cock.
She pulled back, gasping. Her eyes flashed as she saw that the troll’s cock remained rock hard and ready. “On knees,” the troll growled. “I mate.”
Madia nodded, senseless with desire. Shakily she got down onto her hands and knees and raised her soft bottom for the troll’s inspection. This was how he took Cariana, she recalled, and with that thought, molten need spread through her in a wave. She shook as she troll crouched around her. Gasped as his claw caressed her side, her breath hitching as his long fingers engulfed a pale breast. The muck of the floor chilled her hands and her knees, her ass rose as she felt his warty shaft rub against her naked flesh.
“Please…” Madia gasped. “Mate me.”
The troll growled. His hips drew back, and thrust!
Madia screamed as he penetrated her, his cock like nothing she had known before. The bumps of his warty shaft stroked her inner walls even as he split her. Though not as large as Pavior, the sensation was so alien, so maddening, so consuming she could do no more than scream and pant as the troll began to fuck her.
She imagined her daughters in Pavior’s room, the pair of them atop him, one riding his cock, the other perhaps being licked to orgasm, her breasts bouncing, biting her finger as she came, wailing helplessly as the monster pleasured her. She envisioned the marks she saw on their mons glowing brighter. Their bodies so tuned to the satyr’s cruel song the very beating of their hearts went in time to his raw desire.
Madia screamed, cried out as she was brutally mated by the troll beneath the city. “Yesss!” she screamed, her blonde hair fluttering around her head. “Yes! Fuck me monster! Mate me! Breeeed meeee!”
The troll howled, his mane quivering as he came, his oily seed pumping into her eager womb. Madia screamed again, shuddering with joy, her own orgasm crashing through her in a wave of submissive bliss. The troll didn’t stop though. He kept pounding her. Kept fucking her. Kept taking
her like a beast.
And Madia took it. She relished it. She burned for it, collapsing in the mud, her ass in the air, the troll’s clock sloshing in and out of her cum stuffed cunt. “Yessss!” she moaned, clawing at the mud. “Mooore! Please. M-moooore!”
The troll was eager to comply. He fucked her. Took her. Claimed her.
And Madia loved every moment of it.
Departures
The night shrouded Poranovo’s eastern gate. The men on guard were tired. Dealing with refugees and searching everyone coming through was exhaustive work. With their nasal helms pulled low, they leaned on halberds, looking out across the plains.
And as they stood there, a sound came upon the wind. The guards didn’t seem to hear it, but one by one, they sagged, leaning against their spears, sleep slowly washing over them.
And across the city, one by one, lamps flicked off, shrouding the world in darkness.
Through the still streets, a dark carriage rolled down the road, and where it passed, doors were opened. From across the noble’s district, shapes stepped into the night. Drawn after the carriage as it rolled through the lonely streets, sleep wrapping its citizens in a comforting blanket.
The column grew. Dozens trailed after the carriage soon. More of the dark vehicles rolled through the city, and women climbed in. The rattle of the wheels was the only sound as the convoy collected, rattling through the gates, past sleeping guards and away, away, down the twisting highways of Istanov, and towards the west, where the wild forests waited with branches like claws, and eyes gleamed with hunger and desire.
Epilogue
Cleared out?
The question rang in Arven’s mind. He shuddered, nodded. “Y-yes, my lord. We found the brothel abandoned but for some men and a few women. They appear to have been from among the refugees and didn’t know where they were or… or what happened. They showed signs of being ensorcelled somehow. Our questioners are attempting to discover the way it was done.”
The Pillaging of an Empire Page 25