The demon’s thrusts suddenly seemed to double in intensity. He bellowed at the sky, his open mouth revealing his rotten teeth and foul tongue. Damera arched suddenly, howling with Plegoluth, seemingly driven mad with the pleasure of his pounding cock. His cum frothed from her stretched cunt. It slopped onto the floor between her knees, forming a puddle of his filth.
“Enough!” King Janus tore the field glasses from his eyes, the spell breaking with a pop in his eardrums. He threw the cursed artifact over the ramparts and turned to find Brigadier Haverly waiting along with Ser Raymond, one of the knight commanders of the Order of the Shield.
“Your men stand ready to attack,” said Brigadier Haverly.
“Good,” snarled King Janus, brushing past them both. “I know where they have her. It is not far beyond the foothills. Let us ride forth and free the empress from this blasphemy!”
Carnage
King Janus rode with the knights of the Order of the Shield forming his vanguard. Their silver armor gleamed on the backs of their massive chargers. Banners bearing the shield symbol of the order fluttered alongside the elaborate crow banners of the king’s personal bodyguard.
“Onward! We end this today!” The king shouted. He lowered his helm over his face and braced his heavy lance. He led the charge, a hundred armored men forming his vanguard. It was a show of force, elite heavy cavalry in a formation large enough to single-handedly win a battle, and it tore through the ranks of giants and orc archers with enough force to drive deep into the heart of the enemy army.
The bulk of the army, under the command of Brigadier Haverly, collided with the mass of monsters. Orcs and gertling locked weapons with footmen armed with long swords and maces. Skirmishers, used to fighting in alleyways and woodland ambushes, battled for their lives against drooling demons and screeching witches. Human archers exchanged volleys with the enemy archers. Flashes of violet light marked the unholy sorcery of the Red Witch’s coven as they melted men to ooze and set armored wagons ablaze. Plumes of white smoke marked the position of musketeers firing in ranks at mobs of armored orcs.
King Janus fought his way through it all, even as his men fell one-by-one. Ser Raymond tried to keep up with the king, but Janus was driven to the point of frenzy. The king hacked through swarming orcs. He took the head off a screeching harpy that dove on him with her talons and fired a flintlock pistol into the face of an undead thing that crumbled to dust. Nothing could stop the king and not even Ser Raymond, bravest knight of the Order of the Shield, could keep up with him.
“Die! For Heimsvak! For Istanov!” King Janus shouted, driving his sword through the throat of a gray-skinned orc and kicking a knife-wielding gertling away from his charger. He lost his mount soon after, felled by the swing of one of the surviving giants. The king rolled off the back of his horse as it was crushed by the giant’s club. He repaid the giant by lighting the fuse of a powder bomb and hurling the explosive into the brute’s face. With a bang, the bomb blinded the creature and left it howling and grabbing at the bloody ruin of its face.
King Janus pulled himself to his feet. His armor was dented and splashed with blood. Sweat stung his eyes. He was close. He could tell by the terrain.
“I am coming Damera!” The king shouted, hacking through the orcs and gertlings that stood in his way. He did not care that his vanguard was scattered and spent. All that mattered was saving the empress.
A hissing serpent demon lurched at the king, spitting sizzle venom that melted away his shield. He buried his sword in its head, caustic blood corroding this heirloom blade. Undaunted, the king drew his short sword from its sheath and continued his fight up the hill and to the other side. Orcs fell beneath his blade. Nothing could slow him.
He emerged into the space he had seen through the field glasses. The monsters were gone, battling with the greatest army Heimsvak had ever assembled, but the stage was still there. And so was the empress. She was on her back beneath the disgusting bulk of the pig-faced demon. Her red hair fell over the front of the stage like a spill of blood, flopping with the vile motion of Plegoluth as he pounded his fiendish cock into her stretched human cunt. Her head lolled. Her eyes were glassy and her mouth hung open.
“Ooooooohhhhh,” she groaned and was answered by a savage bellow from the demon atop her. His flab quaked as if his orgasm was ripping through his rolls of fat, shuddering with pleasure as he poured still more of his foul seed into her stuffed cunt.
“Damera! Release her, you fiend!” King Janus charged at the stage and leapt upon it despite his heavy armor.
Plegoluth was massive, but slow, drawing his purple cock from Damera’s stretched cunt still dripping with his frothy seed. The empress collapsed into a mewling heap upon the stage. The demon stamped the blubbery trunks of his legs and bellowed at the sky. He flexed his arms, revealing impressive muscles in his biceps, shoulders, and chest despite his huge gut.
King Janus, without hesitation, ran at the creature. Plegoluth bared his rotting teeth and swung his fists at the king’s head.
Too slow. King Janus leapt inside the swing, driving his short sword directly into the roll of fat covering Plegoluth’s neck. The blade sliced like it was cutting warm butter and King Janus plunged his sword deeper, reaching his gauntlet into the bloody black wound. Plegoluth gurgle as King Janus twisted the blade, cutting fiendish veins and severing the demon’s windpipe.
Black blood poured over Plegoluth’s chest as he grabbed King Janus’s armored arm hard enough to deform the mail around the king’s limb. The demon might have torn the king’s arm off, but his life was ebbing. As the strength left Plegoluth, the huge demon fell to his knees and then disintegrated into sparks and ashes. By the time his huge body would have collapsed forward onto the king, he was nothing but embers and oily black smoke. The reek of the demon dissipated along with the smoke.
King Janus, chest heaving with exertion, arm aching in his crushed pauldron, fell to his knees beside the prostrate form of Empress Damera. The sounds of battle seemed muffled and distant as they continued just beyond the foothills. In the quiet that followed the destruction of Plegoluth, the king could hear the empress faintly breathing. He took her shoulders gently in his arms and rolled her over onto her back. Her red hair was a pool of blood spread around her head. Her eyes were open, staring blankly at first, but seeming to focus as she saw him kneel over her.
“Janus? Is that you?” Her voice was soft and sweet. The flush of her defilement somehow made her seem more alive and more beautiful.
She smelled as sweet as a flower, but also radiated the scent of a woman at full arousal. The stench of Plegoluth was completely gone.
“It is me, Damera,” said the king, brushing a lock of hair from her face.
She reached up to him, her fingers soft, but seemingly electric as they stroked his cheek. She sat up slowly, as beautiful as any time he had seen her before.
“Lie back,” he said, gently pushing on her shoulders.
“You came for me. You saved me, Janus,” she whispered. “I must kiss you.”
It made no sense. But he could not refuse her soft lips as they moved closer. She caught him in a kiss, a soft moan escaping her lips as his mouth seemed to dance with pleasure. She surprised him by teasing his lips with her tongue, inviting him into her mouth, to press tighter into the kiss. She caressed his armored shoulder as their embrace deepened. The pleasure of her lips was intoxicating. He craved more. He craved the love he had given up on after the apocalyptic magic that had brought ruin to Istanov.
How could she have survived? How was she here, alive, her lips so soft and hungry for his kiss?
King Janus decided he did not care. His cock hurt it was so stiff in his trousers. He struggled to remove his greaves and codpiece.
“Let me,” murmured Damera. She gazed into his eyes, her irises seemingly flecked with violet as her fingers deftly unwound the leather laces of his armor and slid away the plates. Then her fingers were upon his belt and trousers, freeing his cock, gr
asping it through the button fly of his pants. He was so eager and her hand grasped him so expertly that the king very nearly spilled his seed the moment she began to stroke his hardness. Her soft palm radiated warmth that rippled down his shaft and into his stones.
“My sweet Janus,” she purred.
“Ohhhh, Damera, what are…what are you doing?” He asked, confused by her eagerness. Had they warped her into some sex-crazed harlot? He knew stopping her was the right thing to do, but he could not form the words. She kissed him again, her tongue sweet and warm, slipping eagerly against his as she stroked him faster. Her warm thighs brushed against his cock.
“I have craved you,” she moaned against his lips, her legs opening and her body squirming beneath his. “Craved your touch. Your taste. Oh, Janus, I could devour you.”
She moved suddenly, turning him onto his back and throwing her heaving breasts against him, slapping his chest as she grasped his cock. She laughed. He smiled, but he was overwhelmed. This was not the proper time or place for such ardor. She moaned again, her lashes fluttering as her mouth descended upon his cock. She gripped his root and slurped him down to her gripping fingers. He was in heaven. Her silky throat squeezed around his cock.
“Ahhhh! Damera!” His hips jerked and his cock exploded. His seed burst into her throat as she swallowed around him, again and again, drinking his seed. But there was more. A pleasure like naught he had ever known before. Lifting from his chest, seeming to pump into her hungry belly with each pulse. His toes curled in his boots and he stared in awe at the empress’s bottomless lust.
She looked up at him, his cock still buried to the hilt in her mouth. Her smoldering eyes suddenly flashed with violet light. Magic swirled around his cock. She lifted her mouth from his still-hard manhood and as she did, wiping the back of her hand across her lips, her true nature was revealed. Horns curled from her head and leather wings unfolded from her back. Her eyes pulsed with hypnotic desire. Her beautiful body became even more sensual and enticing. Her breasts swelled and her hips grew wider.
“A succubus!” cried King Janus.
“Yes,” she laughed. “I am Listra! I serve the Red Witch! Even now she is escaping from the dungeon. And you, dear king, belong to me.”
“Nooooo!” The noble king fought against the succubus, but her first feeding had greatly weakened him and her demonic strength was enhanced. She pinned him to the stage and straddled his hips. Her steaming cunt engulfed his cock and she began a vigorous ride atop him, her plump breasts bouncing and her plush ass slapping against him. The hot, slick velvet of her cunt gripped and massaged King Janus’s plentiful cock.
The king thought of Damera. His lover for her. His wife, Magdalena, so gentle and wise, and his beautiful daughter Alessa. He had betrayed them out of love for Damera. He had betrayed his own kingdom, acting impulsively. And it ended like this, he realized. A feast for a succubus.
“Oh, yes, I can feel it!” cried the succubus, her eyes blazing with demonic power. “Cum for me again and again, King Janus! Cum until you’ve given me every drop!”
“Ahhhhhh!” He grabbed at the planks, struggling for his sword, but it was out of reach. His cock swelled with pleasure and burst inside the hot cunt of the succubus. She drank his cum with her netherlips and drank his soul with the mouth that resided in her demonic womb. He spurted again and again until the darkness came. Until weakness prevailed and he could not even call out for help.
“Mmmmmmm,” moaned the succubus, riding atop the king and devouring the last of his soul. I was a rare treat. The soul of a king was something to be manipulated and enslaved, but she had been permitted to consume it completely. Listra stood, his cum dripping down her thighs. She snapped her wings open and took to the sky, laughing as the power of a king coursed through her unholy body.
When Ser Raymond found the king, his body was being desecrated by a quartet of orcs. The brutes fell to the noble knight’s blade as he slew them one after another until they lay mortally wounded around the body of the king. Ser Raymond recovered the war crown of the King Janus, his family sword, and the parts of his body that had not been too badly mutilated. The brave knight wept as he wrapped the dead king in his cloak and carried him over his shoulder.
The horde of the Duke of Ashes was in retreat. They were beaten, though it was hardly a rout. The great army of Heimsvak had suffered terrible losses. Ser Raymond could see it in the blood-spattered face of Brigadier Haverly.
“What do you have there?” demanded Haverly as Ser Raymond approached.
Ser Raymond waited until he was very near to the brigadier. He leaned close to whisper, “King Janus Corven has fallen. His body has been desecrated by the enemy.”
“Oreth, no,” murmured Haverly, placing a hand on the wrapped body. “Take him into the fortress. Be sure that no one sees what was done to him. This will be avenged.”
“Yes, sir,” said Ser Raymond, trudging on across the corpse strewn battlefield.
They had won. Cleavegrad held and the duke had been forced to withdraw. But the price paid was too great and the Duke of Ashes would return.
< TABLE OF CONTENTS
~PREVIEW~
Pour out the vial of wolfsbane
You have already made up your mind that you are willing to bed the King of Navaria. But a part of you must know the truth about his condition. Will he become a beast? A half-man? Will he attack you or will he restrain his urges? You know it is dangerous, but you cannot stop yourself. You must know.
While the king is busy pouring drinks, you swipe the vial of wolfsbane from the pocket of your discarded cloak. You remove the stopper from the vial and upend it on the nearby table. A quick sweep of your hand spreads the blue granules like crumbs across the table and onto the floor.
King Severin turns back to face you, a crystal goblet filled with dark brandy in each hand. He smirks as he saunters towards you. He raises a goblet, holding it to you, and stops. He lowers it again. His eyes widen. His nostrils flare. When he speaks, it is with difficulty, his lips forming words over enlarged canines.
“What have you done?” He murmurs, his graying hair falling into his face as his head drops forward.
When he lifts his head to look at you again, his eyes have turned distinctly red. You take a step back. His body spasms and he drops to his knees. A low moan of apparent pain becomes a deep growl. His shoulder shift and pop, his back curves, and hair bursts forth all over his body. The change happens so quickly that it is difficult for you to comprehend what you are seeing. His nose and mouth elongate into a lupine snout, his ears become long, pointed, and furry, he sprouts a bush gray-furred tail, and, most disturbing of all, his knees pop and invert as they form into the hindquarters of a giant wolf.
Severin stares at you with his malevolent red eyes as he rises to his clawed feet, revealing a huge body in roughly the shape of a human, but with the appearance of a gray-furred wolf. He stands upright on clawed feet and reaches out with clawed hands. You try to turn and run, but it is far too late. He seizes you by your shoulders and flings you down to the floor.
“Please! Stop this!” You cry.
“Nothing will stop me now, Alessa!” He snarls and snaps his lupine jaws. He stands over you, his great furry chest heaving, and his pink, lupine cock slides forth from its bestial sheath. Your heart hammers as you stare up at his cock’s flattened tip dripping with precum and imagine it claiming your royal cunt. His words are almost indecipherable as he growls, “Many have tried to tame the beast! All have failed!”
He rakes his claw over you, slicing through your gown with a clawed hand and tearing it open down to your waist. Your breasts burst free marked with tiny runnels of red where the lightest touch of the wulfen’s claw grazed your pale flesh. He licks his slavering jaws and swipes again, stripping off your panties and leaving the scraps hanging from your trembling thighs. He stands astride you, his massive cock twitching and his bestial musk filling the air.
“Now I will make you my bitch!” He laughs,
his furry tail wagging with excitement.
You try to crawl away from him, but he matches your movement with ease, stalking after you until you are backed against the wall near the hearth. The shifting flames cast the king’s monstrous shadow onto the wall across the room. It is indistinguishable from a wolf.
“Don’t try to fight me,” he growls, his cock hanging over you like a sword raised to claim your life. “It will be easier if you let me mount you.”
Despite your fear, your cunt aches at the thought of submitting to his desire and giving up your cunt to him. You feel the urge to turn onto your hands and knees and offer yourself to the wulfen king.
What do you do?
Try to pleasure him with your mouth
Try to pleasure him with your breasts
Let him mount you
Or…?
Make YOUR choice in Princess to Pleasure Slave Adventure 3: Corruption of the Young Queen!
The Pillaging of an Empire Page 91