Chapter 5 - Mila
It was raining in Top Town. Grey clouds hung low over the mountain top city, matching the grey stone buildings that made up the majority of the architecture within the town walls. Mila was walking beside the warg Alagar as she approached the east gate. She could see the mage Kalliya standing beside a horse to one side of the gate, her black waterproof cloak pulled tight around her and the hood over her hair. Beside her stood another black cloaked figure, but while Kalliya wore a short grey travelling robe and brown hose beneath her cloak, the tall, lean figure beside her wore a black doublet and matching black hose. Beneath his cloak Mila could see the distinctive bulge of a long sword. Over his shoulder was an oilskin wrapped bow - a shortbow, judging by the length of the weapon, but some strange lumps close to where the ends of the unstrung weapon should be caused the orc to wonder exactly what kind of weapon it was. As she drew closer to the waiting pair, Mila could see the tall man had a black scarf wrapped around his hood and covering the lower half of his face, leaving only the pale grey skin of the bridge of his nose and his reddish-brown eyes visible.
Mila was garbed in a well made chain shirt that she wore over a heavy quilted gambeson. Over her supple leather trousers she wore a pair of heavy brown leather boots that extended to the tops of her thighs. A baldric across her back carried a hand-and-a-half sword, with a buckler hanging at her hip and a dagger in her belt. To keep the rain off, the orc wore a brown leather cape and matching hood. In a sling attached to the saddle on Alagar's back sat a heavy crossbow and a sheaf of quarrels. Behind the saddle was Mila's pack and a coil of rope with a grappling hook. She'd spent the previous day assembling her kit and saying her farewells to her friends and acquaintances in town and was now ready for the journey to the eastern reaches - the tail of the Shrouded Mountains that stretched into the Endless Wood.
Upon inspection it seemed the mage was well prepared too - a heavy pack and saddle bags hung from the horse she stood next to, but the black clad figure beside her seemed to have neither horse nor pack.
Mila gave a nod to the two figures by way of greeting as she and Alagar approached.
"I'm Mila," she said as she offered her hand to the man in black.
The man's grip was strong, but he said nothing as he shook Mila's hand - instead he glanced over at Kalliya.
"Good to see you didn't run off with the gems," said Kalliya, smiling, "This elf is Pointer. He doesn't speak."
Mila crooked an eyebrow.
"No tongue. Got it cut out somehow - don't ask me how; he never told me." explained Kalliya. "He's capable though, and good to have around in a fight."
"Uh, it's a long way to the eastern reaches. Don't tell me you're both sharing a ride?" said the orc.
"No no no, Pointer walks. He and horses don't get along. Don't worry, he can keep pace," said the mage.
"I'll take your word for it," said Mila, before patting the black fur of the hulking warg beside her. "This mangy mutt is Alagar. Don't worry, he's friendly enough. Just don't say he has fleas. He can understand every word you say, but like our elven comrade here, he can't talk either."
Alagar padded forward to sniff the mage and the elf. His head was three times the size of the mage's, but to Kalliya and Pointer's credit, neither flinched as his black, brindled muzzle swung past their faces. The huge warg carefully sized up both figures with his golden eyes before dipping his head slightly to them and stepping back beside Mila.
"Well, as I said, it's a long way to the eastern reaches. I guess we'll all get better acquainted on the road," said Mila as she reached to pull herself into the comfortable saddle on Alagar's back.
"Indeed," agreed Kalliya as she mounted her horse. "We'd best be off."
Mila didn't learn much about the strange pair she travelled with as they journeyed eastwards through the mountains. For the two week journey the elf was completely silent; not just for lack of a tongue - even while he loped along beside the two mounted women his footsteps made no sound and nary a jingle could be heard from his equipment. Kalliya seemed happy enough to talk, but the orc was unable to pry any profound information from the dark skinned human. Mila learned that Kalliya came from Baruch, far to the south and west, where the Sand Sea encroached upon the foothills of the Shrouded Mountains, and that she worked for a Baruchian wizard who was studying tribal artifacts. Pointer was apparently this wizard's manservant, but how he came to lose his tongue the mage claimed to have no idea. The warg-rider shared what details about her life the mage enquired of in return - her parents had been hunters of the Greenrock tribe, she had left the tribe after her parents' deaths with Alagar, her father's mount, as company, and had been living the life of a freebooter ever since. She'd journeyed as far as Drasich to the west, delved deep into the eastern reaches, had gazed out over the sand sea to the south and had travelled north across the steppes until she'd come up against the Shield Wall Mountains and the driving arctic winds that cascaded down their slopes. Now she called Top Town her home in the rare moments she wasn't on the road for work or wanderlust.
Most nights on the way to the edge of the reaches they had been able to find an inn, but as they journeyed further east the inns became increasingly rare and they'd had to unfurl their bedrolls in what sheltered nooks they could find beside the road. They took turns keeping watch at night; nearer to Top Town bandits would know to keep their distance from a well armed party, to say the least of one accompanied by a warg, but they were now nearly two weeks from the mountain city and there were other threats more fearsome than bandits to be wary of. Fellow travellers had been a few merchants and their guards, the occasional farmer or miner and one party of rowdy dwarves who had rampaged through Mila's coin purse in a poorly played game of liar's dice. It had been hard to focus on the dice while a handsome dwarf with a particularly girthy cock had a hand down her trousers, but the post game entertainment had made it almost worth the small fortune the gambling midgets had walked off with.
Mila found herself fondly remembering the amorous dwarf's attentions as she kept watch that night. Tomorrow they would descend to the bridge that marked the edge of the eastern reaches and the jagged rocky mountains would give way to the jumbled, wooded foothills. Once in the reaches, she'd have to be on her toes at all times, but tonight, mind lingering on the last proper fucking she'd gotten, she let her hand wander down and under her belt to gently massage her clit. A glance over her shoulder showed her the other two were fast asleep; Kalliya snoring gently and the deep breaths emerging from Pointer the loudest noise she'd heard him make in nearly two weeks. Quietly she undid her belt and the laces of her trousers, peeling back the black leather to provide her fingers better access to her nethers.
Dwarven cocks were built like their owners - not very long, but wide and stout, and the orc's pussy grew damp as she remembered how that handsome dwarf had properly stretched out her cunny when she sat down on his shaft. Grinning at the memory, Mila slid a finger deep into her exposed quim while she mashed the heel of her palm against her erect clit. She closed her eyes in pleasure, only to snap them open a moment later when she sensed a shadow crossing over her. Her surprise turned to embarrassment when she was greeted with the sight of Alagar standing beside her, one eyebrow raised in query.
"Oh fuck," she whispered, "It's just a little fun before we really get into the shit tomorrow. Don't judge."
The warg snorted quietly.
"C'mon, help me keep watch while I crank one out," pleaded Mila.
In response, the huge, furred beast turned a circle behind her before lying down between her and the fire with his belly against her lower back.
"Good boy," she whispered, sliding forward until she was reclining with her head on the warg's chest. She pulled her pants down until her butt was bare and resting on the ground, splaying her legs as best she could, and started massaging her pleasure button at a more frantic pace.
After a few minutes trying to grind an orgasm out of her needy quim, the orc groaned in frustration, "Balls. This isn't working."
Quietly as she could, Mila got to her feet. Attempting to make her hurried masturbation more comfortable, she pulled her boots off and shimmied out of her trousers, exposing herself from the waist down. When she bent over to pull her pants from around her ankles, she had to bite her tongue from squealing as Alagar's long, wet tongue snaked between her legs to lick its way from her mons over her taint and up to her asshole. She looked back to glare at the warg only to see his huge, red, knotted cock fully extended from its sheath and gleaming in the dull light.
"Ha. I see I'm not the only one who's a little pent up," she whispered hoarsely.
Alagar responded with another slow, slobbery lick across her labia.
"Alright, alright, but we have to be super quiet and right quick. I don't want to be caught being 'unprofessional'. And you can't fucking knot me, okay? You were in there for an hour last time."
The pantsless orc cast another anxious glance back at the sleeping forms of her comrades as she quietly dropped to her hands and knees.
"C'mon, mount up big boy," she whispered, presenting her dripping cunt to the golden eyed warg.
The huge beast noiselessly got to his feet and moved forward until his black-furred bulk was looming over her. Mila arched her back and raised her ass, pushing backwards until she felt the pointed tip of Alagar's bestial phallus caressing her pussy lips. The warg's cock felt burning hot against her and a steady trickle of clear pre-cum dripped from it. Mila bit her lower lip to prevent a moan when the beast bucked his haunches gently and two inches of his engorged, slick shaft pushed into her. Sensing her attempts to stay quiet, the warg paused, the tip of his red phallus pulsing gently inside the orc's dripping pussy.
"Alright, I'm good, keep going you randy furball," whispered Mila from her position beneath the monstrous canine.
Alagar pushed again, shifting his weight forward until the soft fur of his stomach pressed against the greenskin's back. Inexorably slowly his long, thick cock slid into her cunny, filling her with a delicious, tight, hot sensation as her pussy stretched around the warg's girthy tool. After what seemed like an eternity of burning cockmeat pushing into her, Mila felt the squishy bulge of Alagar's knot butt up against her lips. As it did whenever the hulking warg mounted her, the warg’s immense tool felt exquisite. Once again she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning. This time, however, Alagar didn't pause for long and slowly he began to withdraw his shaft from the warm vice it was ensconced in. As he pulled back, Mila's sopping pussy lips clung to his veiny, red length and a long, viscous strand of his pre-cum mixed with her juices dripped from their joined organs to the ground. Once there was only a couple of inches of dick inside her, the warg pushed forwards again until his hardening knot bumped up against her clit once more. He repeated the process again and again, steadily increasing speed until he was methodically thrusting his oversized cock in and out of the orc's welcoming hole with silent gusto, producing a quiet, wet, slick noise as he humped her raised pussy.
Mila glanced backwards past the warg's braced paws, but her two compatriots were still slumbering peacefully, undisturbed by the silent yet frantic rutting that was taking place mere feet from them. The danger of being caught while getting mounted by her warg sent an illicit thrill through the orc, causing her to involuntarily clench her pussy around the engorged warg-cock humping her. Alagar let out a low, rumbling growl as she did so and Mila knew he would soon start ejeculating. She hadn't cum yet, but she wasn't worried - when Alagar's cock started spurting, she knew it wouldn't stop for a few minutes and getting filled up by that monstrous slab of a penis always pushed her over the edge. Her worry was that she wouldn't be able to stay quiet as the warg pumped his jism into her orgasming pussy.
Wouldn't that be a sight, she thought, getting caught panting and moaning in orgasm as her cunt got inseminated by a torrent of sloppy warg sperm while she was supposed to be on sentry duty.
Suddenly, the warg's huge cock pulsed, swelling to gargantuan proportions in her tunnel, and Alagar’s furred haunches shuddered. Mila felt a hot jet of liquid squirt into her as the warg’s bestial cock began ejaculating. Knowing her arms wouldn't be able to support her much longer, she dropped a shoulder to the ground, resting her cheek against the stone, and reached back between her legs to batter her fingers against her desperate clit. Alagar hilted himself in her cunny, up to his knot, and stopped thrusting vigorously, the huge bulge pressed against her cunt lips. Instead, he slowly and rhythmically pushed against her as his throbbing cock hosed a steady stream of jizz into her fuck-hole. The flood of warm liquid pulsed and spurted powerfully into her, filling the orc's cunt with a delectable warmth until her pussy overflowed and Mila felt the syrupy semen ooze out from where her labia kissed his veiny shaft and swollen knot. As it trickled over her fingers and down her arm, Mila's own orgasm crashed into her and she tensed up, biting her lip a final time as she rode it out.
As she came down from her post coital high, she realized Alagar was still cumming, inseminating her with warm waves of cock-juice that was now dripping from her overstuffed cunt to splatter on the ground in heavy dollops.
"Shit," she whispered, "we're making a fucking mess."
Alagar growled a low, satisfied rumble and continued to rhythmically flex his haunches while he unloaded his heavy, furred balls into his mate’s quim.
"Hold on old boy, I'll do this quickly," continued the orc.
In a quick, fluid motion she crawled off the warg’s turgid, jizz-spewing cock, turned, and wrapped her lips around it. Her cheeks bulged immediately as another pulse of Alagar's cum spurted from the tip of his ejaculating schlong into her mouth and Mila started swallowing quickly, trying to keep pace, while cupping a hand over her gaping pussy in an attempt to stop too much of the warg's slimy, white, pungent ejaculate from oozing out. The orgasming beast's spunk tasted sweet and salty and not at all unpleasant and Mila gulped it down as fast as she could, her free hand wrapped around the warg's slowly deflating knot, milking it gently. She continued sucking and swallowing for several minutes until the flow of musky jizz tapered off and Alagar gave another shudder and satisfied growl.
"Gods, you don't do things by half, huh big guy?" whispered Mila once the warg's cock was out of her mouth. "Keep an eye open for a moment. I gotta step away for a bit and get all your spunk out. I feel like I'm gonna burst."
The huge creature licked her cheek affectionately before sitting back on his haunches, golden eyes half closed, tongue lolling out of his maw. Leaving the warg to keep watch, Mila grabbed her boots and pants and walked a few yards into the scrub, hand still cupped tight over her cum-stuffed pussy, before squatting and letting a veritable torrent of glistening white warg cum gush from her well-used cunt. She smiled to herself as she wiped up the last ropey strands of the warm, aromatic cum and licked her fingers clean. If only every night passed so pleasantly once they entered the reaches.
With morning came more rain, and Kalliya and Mila stood in the shelter of a huge oak tree while they looked down the valley slope at the stone bridge that marked the boundary of the eastern reaches. The sides of the valley were heavily wooded; the road wound its way through the trees until it reached the edge of the river gorge and the sturdy looking bridge that spanned it. Currently occupying the women's attention were the six figures lounging against the stonework on the far side of the bridge.
"So you're sure they're bandits?" said the human mage as she hugged her cloak around her shoulders.
"No doubt about it. Their armour is a regular dog's breakfast, so they're not soldiers, and there's no reason for mercs to be sitting in the rain there. That bridge is the perfect choke point for an ambush. I'll bet there's a few more hiding in the trees on this side of the gorge," said the orc. "When Pointer gets back from scouting, I don't doubt he'll confirm my suspicions."
"What do you think we should do?"
"Well," continued Mila, "unless you feel like hiking three days out of our way to get to the next crossing or forking over most of your valuables and equipment as a tax, we're going to have to spring that trap."
"Hmm. I don't like it, but it seems there's little choice," complained Kalliya.
Alagar sniffed loudly and turned his massive head to face the scrub in front of them a moment before Pointer's black clothed form emerged from it. As the elf walked over to the two women, he wrote quickly on his slate.
8 bandits. 6 on bridge. 2 more this side hidden. 5 humans 2 goblins 1 orc.
"I knew it," said Mila. "This could suck a bit."
Pointer wiped his slate with his sleeve and scribbled down another message;
too wet for shooting. need to get in close.
Mila agreed with a nod of her head. The rain would soak exposed bowstrings, hampering any archery. The coming fight would come down to steel on steel and what magic the mage could bring to bear.
"Alright. I'll take the lead," said Mila, "Kalliya, you stick close behind me. We'll keep them talking as long as possible for Pointer to deal with the ambushers on this side of the river. Once they're dealt with, you'll need to come back us up as quick as possible."
Pointer and Kalliya both nodded.
"Oh, and one more thing," Mila added, "try and keep the orc alive. He might have some useful information about the Redtooth."
Mila and Kalliya rode towards the bridge and the waiting ambush after Pointer had disappeared amongst the trees once more. As they approached the the bridge the orc could see the lounging figures on the far side of it pick themselves up as they noticed the two riders. The bandits looked like a rough bunch to the orc - mismatched arms and armor that hadn't seen polish in weeks and an assortment of scars that would impress a goblin chirurgeon. At the mid-point of the bridge the leader of the gang of rogues stepped forward. She was a tower of a woman, clad in furs and chainmail with a wicked looking bearded axe near as tall as she was. Mila figured her to be some sort of barbarian renegade. Behind her were four more shifty looking humans and a burly orc, all armed with various hand weapons - swords, maces and axes. The warg rider was pleased to note a lack of shields among the ragtag group.
"Halt, greenie!" called out the towering barbarian, "This here's a toll bridge! It'll cost you to cross it!"
Mila hoped Pointer was every bit as quiet as he seemed to be - she could hear no sounds coming from the forest behind her and could imagine goblin archers drawing a bead on her back.
"I've been through here before - never had to pay a toll. What's it for?" she asked, trying to keep the bandit talking.
The barbarian leered maliciously and said, "Lots of real unsavoury types around. We make sure travellers are safe on these roads. Why don't you hand over, say, half your coin, your horse and that nice looking sword you're carrying there to help us do our job keeping you safe?"
"Oh, I dunno, I reckon I'd be a lot safer if I kept my sword and my gold," retorted Mila, "and my warg here has taken a liking to the horse. I'd pay you for some information, though, if you're really looking to help."
"Yeah?" the bandit leader said, looking conflicted at her demand being turned down and replaced with an offer for information. She knew she'd still have to get these irksome traveller's valuables, but curiosity momentarily got the better of her. "What kind of info are you looking for?"
Mila watched the orc bandit carefully as she posed her question, "I'm looking for the Redtooth tribe. You know anything about them?"
The bandit leader threw a furtive glance over her shoulder at her orc comrade, who looked sheepishly down at his boots, before turning back to Mila, saying, "We may know a thing or two about that tribe of greenies, but it'll cost you."
"Let me guess; half our coin, my sword and my companion's horse?"
"Yep," said the bandit, laughing.
"No deal. We'll seek them out ourselves," said Mila, "We'll just be moving on now."
"Ha! I don't think so!" bellowed the barbarian before rapping the haft of her axe on the stone of the bridge - clearly some sort of signal to the hidden goblins.
Mila scratched Alagar's ruff with one hand, loosening her buckler from her belt with her other hand. The bandit leader looked confused as a distinct lack of arrows came flying from the forest.
"Um. Was something supposed to happen?" asked Mila, smiling broadly.
"Kill these fuckers!" shouted the bandit leader in response, hefting her axe with both hands.
Alagar lurched forward as Mila drew her bastard sword from her baldric, glancing to his right when he noticed Kalliya surging past him on the back of her own mount. A strange nimbus of hazy orange light was growing to envelop both the mage and the horse as she galloped past. Mila almost called out to her to get back, but the words stuck in her throat when she saw the edge of the mage's spell collide with the bandit leader. The impact caused a cascade of sparks and sent the huge bandit reeling backwards. Kalliya galloped onward, smashing into the scrawny bandit that was charging right behind his leader. Once again the orange field burst with sparks and the smaller bandit flew to the side, his hip colliding with the low wall of the side of the bridge, the impact making him cartwheel head over heels into the gorge below the bridge. His panicked scream chased his progress downwards.
Following the path the charging mage had made, Mila swept her sword downwards as Alagar carried her past the bandit leader. The huge cutthroat only just managed to parry the heavy swing with the haft of her weapon, but was unable to respond before the warg-rider was flying past, headed straight for the next bandit. Warg and rider crashed into the next cutpurse in line, sending him sprawling on his back, arms upraised. Roaring ferociously, Alagar's jaws clamped down on the hapless man's forearm and he began shaking his limb filled maw back and forth. The man's scream drowned out the horrible cracking of bone as his arm was crushed and torn.
Leaving the warg to his current task, Mila vaulted from his back. Ahead of her, Kalliya and her force field had pushed the orc bandit up against one of the posts on the far side of the bridge. The orc was ineffectively swinging his mace at the mage, each attack producing another cascade of sparks as his weapon halted abruptly a foot away from his seemingly unarmoured target. Mila turned on her heel to face the two unengaged bandits, both of whom were rushing toward her. She caught one in the throat with her sword and turned the other's axe stroke with the iron rimmed edge of her buckler. She knew the bandit leader was rushing up behind her and so she pushed forwards under her opponent's axe to smash the iron hub of her shield into the highwayman's nose, staggering him backwards.
The barbarian's roar betrayed her proximity, permitting Mila to duck and sidestep as the big lady's fearsome axe whirled scant inches over the orc's head. From her low crouch, Mila lashed out in a wide horizontal sweep with her blade, forcing the fur-clad robber to step backwards. Using the momentary respite to her own advantage, Mila shuffled backwards as well, putting both bandits in front of her. The bandit with the broken nose clumsily swung his hand-axe down at the battle-hardened orc, but the ill-timed blow was easily evaded and Mila repaid him for his failure with a flick of her wrist that sent her sword sliding along the man's wrist, leaving a vicious, gaping wound. To her right she heard another sickening crunch and a strangled gurgle as Alagar's teeth found the throat of the bandit he had pounced.
The bandit leader was experienced enough not to get distracted by the sounds of a messy death, however, and swung her axe low at Mila's calf, forcing the orc to dance backwards again. Beside the imposing barbarian, her badly wounded companion attacked once more, holding his own axe in both hands as he tried to drive it down on Mila's head. The orc raised both buckler and sword to parry the heavy swing, her defence catching the descending weapon just below the curving axehead. While she held her opponent's weapon upright with her shield, she slid her sword down the man's upraised arms, cutting him terribly across the chest from armpit to armpit as she drew her sword back before she thrust the point deep into his stomach.
Unfortunately, the attack left Mila's right flank completely exposed. The bandit leader saw her opportunity as the orc struggled to untangle herself from her deceased opponent and swung her bearded axe back over her left shoulder, winding up to deliver a devastating blow. The strike never landed. From the middle of the large human's chest, a finely tapered point suddenly protruded as Pointer, who had been approaching noiselessly from behind, ran her through with his estoc.
As elf and orc both pulled their weapons free from their dead enemies, Mila gave the black clad thief a nod. She had seen the elf's approach and never would have made such a gamble of an attack if reinforcements hadn't been so close, but the elf had demonstrated that her trust in his abilities had not been misplaced. The two then turned to see the orc bandit, who had been struggling in vain against the magic shielded mage, throw his mace to the ground and put his hands up in surrender.
As the glowing mage, black clad thief, heavily armed orc and blood spattered warg surrounded him, he spoke, "Uh... If you let me live, I can tell you where to find the Redtooth tribe."
Thursday, January 3, 2019
The Clan Wars - Chapter 04
Chapter 4 - Bann
Bann was exhausted and sore, but mostly he was disappointed. It had been a difficult day, despite a promising start. The first competition he had participated in was archery and he had managed to achieve a fair result, but the centaurs with their powerful longbows were in high demand and his mediocre result at the butts had resulted in none of the warband leaders choosing him. After the archery came the sparring matches and a brutish Kolgannis barbarian had hewn his shield three times without Bann managing to break even one. A three to two score against a large centaur and a tie against a centaur colt resulted once more in no war-leaders selecting him for their raiding parties. Finally, in the scrimmage, he’d let his frustration get the better of him and had charged too early, ending up ahead of his team and in the midst of the opposing team’s shield wall alone. A vicious rapp to the back his helmet from one of the ‘enemy’ warriors had both knocked him out of the running for a position in a summer raid and knocked him out. His ears were still ringing. Now the forlorn young barbarian sat on the grassy slope at the base of the palisades nursing his pride and a sympathetic clay mug of mead.
Spread across the field in front of him were the gathered warriors of the two human clans of Kolgannis and Koltar and the two centaur clans of Running Grass and Rolling Rock. On the far side of the crowd a small wooden dais had been constructed, for the use of the clan chiefs and the warband leaders. Amid the gathered mass of warriors immense bonfires and smaller cooking fires blazed. Whole cattle were broiling on spits and kegs of mead and ale had been broached and were in the process of being emptied. Drunken human barbarians and inebriated centaur raiders celebrated by dancing, eating, drinking and fucking in equal measure. Years previous, when he was too young to compete for selection but old enough to join the celebrations, Bann had been all too happy to stumble wide eyed through the partying soldiers, gawking at the imposing forms of veteran warriors and the strutting young first-chosen. Young warriors generally spent their first two summers after reaching adulthood as part of the village militia, guarding the homesteads and training for the selection games. As a young militia member, Bann had always dreamed of being counted as first-chosen, as the warriors selected for their first raiding party were known. Now that he hadn’t been selected, Bann felt his dreams die. He would just be another old militia man, unfit for the honour of the the warbands. Oh sure, old One-Eye and Jarl Dantig tried to claim there was still honour to be had in guarding the village, but, though both his parents were dead, Bann felt like his mother and father, both clan housecarls in their time, would have been disappointed.
As he moped into his mug, Bann watched Gunnar Long Arm, Chief of the Kolgannis, mount the dais. There had been a few rousing speeches so far as the war-leaders from the various raiding units stood to declare how formidable their band was and how much plunder they would return north with, but Gunnar was the first of the clan leaders to address the crowd of over two thousand armed soldiers. As he stepped to the front of the stage a deafening roar arose from the massed ranks.
The iron-grey haired barbarian spread his arms, palms facing down, for silence. As the rumble died down, he began to speak.
“Fellow warriors! Fellow battle-kin! It truly is an honour to stand before such a gathering of skill and strength!”
The crowd roared again.
“We of the Northern Alliance of Clans have always been the fiercest, greatest warriors to raid the steppe! In ages past, when the host of hosts gathered and overthrew the Empire, who led the charge south to smash the border lords?”
“WE DID!” bellowed the crowd.
“And when the mighty host reached the gates of the Imperial capital, who was the vanguard that first breached the walls of Drasich?”
“WE WERE!” came the shouted reply.
Bann sighed. Gunnar was speaking of the overthrow of the Empire of Thae. Everyone knew the story of the great army that was formed when the tribes and clans united under one banner to overthrow the human and elven rulers of the Empire. One hundred years ago the orcs, goblins, trolls and giants of the mountains had united with barbarians, centaurs and minotaurs from the plains and forests of the east to march against the Imperial armies, defeating them in the field and sacking the capital city, Drasich. The Empire hadn’t survived the incursion and had fractured into the smaller kingdoms and city states of the west. Drasich was still a major metropolis, but the former imperial capital was now just a city state run by the merchant’s guild.
“I stand before you, brave fighters, to tell you there will be no warbands this summer. No raiding, no skirmishes,” continued Gunnar, “Instead, a new host is gathering!”
This was different, thought Bann, brow knitting as he looked up from his mug. Just in time to make the day worse, it seems Bann would be missing out on a warhost. The throng of warriors crowding the field before him was a frenzy of cheering and weapons were being drawn and raised skywards.
“Once again the clans muster to conquer!” shouted Gunnar over the roar. “Once again we march south! For long we have let the cities of the south and west grow fat, and once again the tribes will gather to reap the harvest!”
Bann spat in disgust at his failure and hauled himself to his feet to drag himself off around the palisade and away from the celebration he felt excluded from. Taking his mug of booze, he stumbled toward the quiet spot where the orchards grew close to the wall, seeking a secluded place where he could nestle down and get properly acquainted with his self-pity. Nothing like a good wallow in misery, he thought as he slouched underneath the arching apple trees.
Once the cheering of the crowd had faded to a faint rumble, the dejected barbarian found a suitable tree and slumped against it. Just as he was taking a deep pull from his tankard, the sound of hushed voices wandered through the evenly spaced trees and into his ears. He was about to dismiss them and find a new, quieter place to drown his sorrows, thinking he was overhearing a couple who had slipped off to have their own, private celebration, when he recognized one of the voices as that of Lisbet, the beautiful centaur queen who’d dallied with him that morning.
“I suppose you have to go with them,” said Liz.
“I am a war-leader, after all,” replied a deeper voice.
“I know that. It’s just that I don’t think this war is a good idea,” said the queen, a note of exasperation in her voice.
Curiosity piqued, Bann rose to his hands and knees and crawled towards the voices. He figured the lower voice was that of Brakis, a huge, sable centaur stallion; one of Clan Running Grass’ most capable war-leaders and one of Lisbet’s consorts. Sure enough, a few orchard rows over from his chosen wallowing location, Bann spied the pretty centaur queen standing next to the dark black bulk of War-Leader Brakis. The conversing pair were lit by the dully glowing moonlight that trickled through the spring leaves of the apple trees.
“Why do we ally with the other tribes once more, Brakis? Why do we want to attack the southern cities?” continued Liz.
“The plunder, the honour-” Brakis started to explain.
“You know I have nothing against a good fight and a proper haul of loot, love, but this just doesn’t seem right. And who’s that shaman that follows Gunnar like a dog these days, whispering in his ear?” The queen sounded angry.
“I don’t know, Liz. That shaman’s odd, to be sure, but the war-leaders voted on this, and you know we must respect the decisions of the Alliance,” said Brakis.
“I know, I know. I wish you weren’t going, or that I could travel with the warbands this year-”
“You are likely with foal. I realise it is still early and you can still run faster than your clan-guard, but we cannot risk-”
“The heir. Yes, yes,” the queen finished his sentence, speaking the words as if she’d heard them countless times before.
Even at this distance, the queen’s estrus musk still found its way to Bann’s nose. The heady mix of pheromones made his heart thump loudly and caused a stirring under his kilt. In the moonlit orchard, the young barbarian watched, mesmerized, as Lisbet reached back to unclasp her leather armour.
“Well, if he must depart in the morning,” she said as she freed her bountiful breasts from the confines of her armoured jerkin and exposed her pale, freckled skin to the moonlight, “perhaps my consort would care to mount his queen once more before he departs to war?”
Bann heard the black stallion snort with lust as Lisbet spoke. The hulking, sable furred warrior stamped his hooves on the grass as he moved behind his queen. The barbarian watched with lust induced awe as the light of the moon reflected wetly off the moist lips of Lisbet’s equine cunny when she lifted her tail to present her sodden slit to her mate. Brakis snorted again and his truly massive flared phallus slid from its sheath at the tempting sight.
Lifting his front legs high, the stallion trotted forward a few steps to mount the female centaur. The blunt head of his hose-like cock prodded at the folds of Lisbet’s pussy, coming away shining with wetness, as the male centaur tried to align his organ with the mare’s sopping orifice. After a few futile thrusts, the centaur warchief’s arm length penis finally slid home and Lisbet let out a satisfied grunt as her needy pussy was steadily filled by Brakis’ throbbing cock-meat. Once his engorged length was sheathed inside his queen’s cunt, the black stallion began to thrust his massively muscled hindquarters. Bann couldn’t tear his eyes away from the lusty scene before him, and his ears picked up the wet, slick, obscene noise of the centaur’s gargantuan tool sliding in and out of the estrus mare’s wet opening.
“Oh, fuck me!” said the centaur queen in a hoarse whisper, “That cock of yours feels exquisite! I knew I kept you around for a reason.”
“I aim to please, my queen,” said Brakis as he leaned forward to wrap his arms around Lisbet’s torso.
The large centaur took her heaving tits in each hand and began to knead the freckled orbs, squeezing her perky nipples between the knuckles of his fingers as he did so. Lisbet leaned her head back into the crook of Brakis’ neck and shoulder, turning her head and kissing the imposing male deeply as they mated. To Bann, the centaur queen had seemed tall and imposing, but now she seemed dwarfed by the bulk of the equine warchief mounting her. The obscene sight, sounds and smell of the centaur mare in heat being mounted by the massive stallion enflamed Bann with lust. He didn’t even realise he’d lifted his kilt and was stroking his cock rigorously, such was the fog of desire in his head.
While he watched, masturbating furiously, Bann could see Lisbet’s black lipped cunny dripping and splattering the ground with clear pussy juice that glittered in the moonlight as it was squeezed from the queen with every momentous thrust of Brakis’ flared cock. The pair’s rutting became more frantic and the sable centaur male tilted his head to bite his mare’s neck affectionately as he plowed his oversized schlong in and out of her quim. Lisbet’s roan furred haunches quivered with the impacts of the stallion’s haunches and, every time the male mounting her pushed his cock home, she let slip a small moan that seemed to catch in her throat. Brakis’ calloused hands never stopped mauling and teasing the queens pale skinned breasts as he bred her with increasing urgency.
Suddenly, the large male made one more heavy thrust, his grapefruit sized black nutsack slapping against Lisbet’s mons one last time, and Brakis held himself still atop the centaur queen. She let out a loud exclamation, half moan, half cry of joy, and Bann could tell the huge centaur was filling the mare’s cunny with his seed. They stood motionless in the orchard clearing for a long moment, the female centaur moaning breathlessly while pinioned beneath the ejaculating male, before Brakis began moving backwards to dismount Lisbet. His impossibly long cock seemed to take an eternity to withdraw from the centaur queen’s properly fucked cunt. When the flared head finally popped free it was followed by a waterfall of pale spunk that gushed from her gaping pussy. Bann couldn’t help himself. He moaned as his cock pulsed and spurted cum onto the ground.
The centaurs had been gazing at one another in post-coital bliss, but as he moaned while his cock sprayed cum onto the ground, Bann realised they’d both turned to stare right at his hiding place. He froze, screwing his eyes shut and praying to whomever might be listening that he would not be noticed.
“Well well, what do we have here?” said a deep voice.
It was followed by a higher pitched giggle. Brann opened his eyes, cringing as he did so to find Lisbet and Brakis looking down at him. They hadn’t redressed yet and both centaurs were gleaming in the night’s silvery light, covered in a sheen of sweat from their passionate fucking. Brakis looked irritated, but behind him, Bann could see a wry grin of amusement on Lisbet’s lips. He realised he was still crouched on his knees, kilt hiked up, his rapidly deflating cock exposed for all to see. Bann hoped it was dark enough that they couldn’t make out who he was, let alone the deep crimson flush of embarrassment that was taking over his face. Maybe if he got up and ran into the night he would remain safely anonymous...
“Oh, hello Bann!” said Lisbet.
The little warrior’s heart sank. “Um. Hi, your majesty.”
“You know this little spy, my queen?” said Brakis.
“We’ve met before.” said Lisbet, winking at Bann.
Brakis flexed the muscles of his neck, cocking his head to the side as he did so, and cracked his knuckles.
“So? Do I teach this little voyeur a lesson?” he asked.
Lisbet chuckled again. “No, no, it’s fine, Brakis,” she replied. “In fact, if you’re heading back to the herd, I would have a few words alone with our little spy.”
Brakis gave her a nod. “As you wish,” he said, bowing before he left for the visiting clan’s encampment.
As the big stallion departed, Lisbet turned to put her armour on. Once clothed, she faced Bann, who was still blushing furiously. He tried to stammer out an apology, but the centaur queen shushed him, interrupting him.
“Don’t worry about it, my friend,” she said soothingly. “I know the effect a mare can have on a male when she’s in heat. No, there’s something else I wanted to ask of you. I noticed you weren’t chosen for a warband.”
The reminder brought Bann’s crushing despair back to the forefront of his mind.
“Yeah. I guess I wasn’t good enough,” he said, looking down at the ground and trying not to show Lisbet how much the rejection affected him.
“There will always be another competition, Bann,” said Lisbet. “You can try again next spring.”
“But this year there’s a warhost, and I’m going to miss it, stuck in the village guarding the bairns and crops,” moaned Bann.
“There’s honour in that,” said the queen, “but I get the feeling that isn’t enough.”
Bann waited for her to continue. He’d heard the ‘honour in guarding the homesteads’ speech from old One-Eye. It was an important task, but the glory to be gained in a warband was immeasurably greater and in a warhost the greatest glory awaited. The barbarian could only imagine the champions and heroes that would have their legends forged on the battlefields.
“With the host in the field, I’ll need liaisons to deliver messages and keep me informed. I think having a human on my staff would ease the process of communicating with the warhost leaders.” Lisbet continued, “There would be many responsibilities for you, and travelling to and from a host in the field could be dangerous. I have a few other liaisons as well, so you would not be alone in the task, but I think you would be an asset. Do you think you’re up to the job?”
He would be a messenger boy, but he would get a chance to travel with the warhost. Bann practically yelped his acceptance.
“Excellent!” Lisbet beamed at the enthusiastic warrior. “I’ll speak with your Jarl and let him know I’ll be commandeering one of his warriors.”
Bann was in a much better mood as he made his way back to the ongoing celebrations in the meadow. Lisbet had walked with him some of the way, talking about her younger days when she and Bann’s clan chief Dantig had been lowly warband leaders, but Bann had barely taken in any of what she was saying, his head packed full of excitement over the idea of marching with the warhost and the glory he could win. When Lisbet had parted from him to head towards the gathered clan chiefs, Bann had continued on to join the celebrations, refilling his mug with mead and seeking out his friends Hedda and Jon. After asking a few drunken Clan Koltar warriors, he found the spearmaiden and her shield-bearer beside one of the roaring bonfires. Hedda was seated on the ground, leaning against a large, half full tun of ale, while Jon was sprawled on the ground in front of her, head in her lap and obviously the worse for drink. At some point during the night’s proceedings both warriors had managed to get drunk enough to lose their shirts and, while the fair warrior seemed to be doing her best to polish off the barrel she was leaning against, her shield-bearer seemed barely conscious. Jon could never keep up with Hedda when it came to quaffing ale.
The young woman had been selected four years ago to raid with a warband led by a Kolgannis warchief named Gwen Steel Arm and, as was custom, would join Gwen’s warband again this year when they marched with the warhost. Hedda had tried to comfort her friend when Bann realised he would not be joining the warhost, but had ended up watching the despondent warrior slouch off to drink alone. She couldn’t help but notice the grin he bore when he returned.
“You seem happier,” she said as the smiling Bann picked his way past various inebriated partiers to sit beside her. “Some young lass take pity on you and let you get your dick wet?”
“Looks like I’ll be joining the host this year!” beamed the young barbarian, causing Hedda to raise an eyebrow in query.
“You’re looking at the newest warhost liaison for Clan Running Grass!” explained Bann.
Hedda squealed with glee and leaned over the comatose Jon to give her friend a hug. “Who’d you have to shag to get that post?” she asked.
Bann’s heart trilled as his half-clad crush hugged him. Jon groaned audibly as his face was smothered by Hedda’s ample bosom.
“Whatsh going on?” mumbled Jon, words slurred with drink.
“Bann’s going to be traveling with the host!” exclaimed Hedda.
“Oh good,” said her shield-bearer as he struggled to open his groggy eyes, “How’d joo shwing that?”
Bann delved into the story enthusiastically. Jon reached up from his prone position to give Bann a jab in the ribs and a crooked grin when the younger warrior described his morning at the butts and his first meeting with Lisbet. Hedda asked some pointed questions about the big stallion Brakis when he came to the part about catching the centaur queen and her consort in flagrante in the orchard. Bann tried not to be too lewd, but by the end of his story the two barbarians were laughing uproariously at their youngest friend’s debauched tale.
“You fucked a shentaur queen in the ash?”
“Oh my gods, Bann, was it really as big as your arm?!”
“Hand to heart,” said Bann solemnly, “I tell no lie.”
“Thish callsh for another drink,” said Jon, groaning once more as he clambered to his feet to dunk the party’s mugs in the ale barrel.
Hedda scooted forward to let Jon lean against the barrel as he sat down behind her and handed their now full mugs back. Once he was seated she leaned back against him and raised her flagon.
“I propose a toast!” she announced.
“Yesh! A toasht to the newesht shouldier to join the hosht!” agreed Jon, raising his mug with hers.
“Aw, thanks guys,” said Bann, clinking his mug against theirs and drinking deeply, “but I’m just going to be a messenger. You two will get the real glory.”
“Hey now,” chided Hedda, “You’ll be marching with the host and I’m sure you’ll get to join the fight when it happens!”
“Yesh,” slurred Jon as he lazily reached a hand around the ribs of the beautiful barbarian leaning against him to grope one of her large, exposed tits, “and joo got to fuck a shentaur in the ash. Joo should tell ush more about dat.”
In front of the happy group a couple of fellow warriors had shed their armour and the three idly watched as a female barbarian with long black hair hiked up her kilt to lower herself onto her red bearded companion’s erect penis. The black haired woman raised and dropped her ass onto her man’s lap with short, quick movements as they began to fuck, uncaring of the audience they had.
“That’s getting me fucking hot,” said Hedda as she watched the couple hump. “Why are we just talking about a good fucking...”
Her words trailed off as she reached over and slowly ran her hands up Bann’s thigh and under his kilt. Her fingers were cool from where they were gripping her now discarded mug of ale and they felt exquisite when they found Bann’s cock and balls. While Jon slowly groped her tit-flesh and teased her nipples, Hedda fondled Bann’s sack and tickled her finger-tips over his hardening manhood.
Hedda and Bann had fucked a couple of times before, although she usually lay with Jon, and Bann knew the pair were not exclusive to one another. Contraceptive potions were easy to make and acquire, so casual sex was commonplace among the tribes. When a couple like Hedda and Jon declared themselves for one another it was about an emotional bond as opposed to satiating a bit of carnal lust.
Jon placed his mug on the ground beside him and, both hands now free, lifted Hedda’s kilt to her waist. While gently rolling one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger he reached down to run his other hand through the trimmed, blonde hair on her mons and slowly moved a teasing finger over her labia.
Across from them the other barbarian pair were settling into a good pace, the raven haired woman squatting above the red bearded warrior’s lap while he thrust upwards into her. Their steady coupling produced a slapping noise as their skin smacked together and both were panting in unison.
Bann looked over at Hedda, grinning. “How do you want to do this?” he asked.
In response, she turned over and moved herself down between Jon’s legs, lifting his kilt as she did so. Taking his semi-erect cock in her hand, her lips brushed it as she wiggled her upraised butt and said “Why don’t you lick my pussy and we’ll see where we go from there?”
Bann moved behind Hedda, stripping off his tunic and kilt as he did so. His young muscles gleamed in the firelight. He kneeled and leaned in to put his lips against her slit, giving it a gentle kiss before sliding his tongue between her folds. Hedda gasped as she felt his tongue slide into her and began to bob her head up and down over Jon’s shaft, sucking on it fiercely. The fornicating couple across the fire had slowed their pace and turned their heads to watch as the three barbarians orally serviced each other.
Hedda’s cunt tasted sweet and salty on Bann’s tongue, and he reached between his legs to tug himself to full hardness as he enthusiastically ate her out. Jon moved himself forward to lie on the ground, moaning in pleasure as the spear-maiden’s pink lips slid up and down his now turgid erection.
“Godsh, girl, thatsh fucking nishe,” he mumbled between heavy breaths.
“Mmmmm. Bann’s got me nice and wet. You boys ready for this?” said Hedda as she moved up to straddle Jon’s waist.
With a leg on either side of his thighs, the blonde barbarian mirrored the actions of her black-haired kin and lowered herself onto the tumescent tool now between her legs. She let out a long sigh as she felt Jon’s engorged mass push into her cunt and leaned forward to wrap her arms around her shield-bearer’s head and mash his face into her titties.
She ordered Jon to pull her cheeks apart and then looked over her shoulder at Bann and gave him a wink and a smile, saying, “Go for it. You can tell Jon how it compares to a queen’s royal asshole afterwards.”
“Here, use this!” shouted the dark haired barbarian from the other side of the bonfire as she bucked her hips atop her partner’s entombed penis, “She’ll appreciate a little oil!”
The woman tossed a small flask from her side of the fire over to where Bann was standing and stroking his shaft. Bann grinned back at her while he popped the cork from the bottle’s neck and poured a generous amount of the slick oil it contained over his manhood. After smearing the lube over his veiny cock, he dropped to his knees and aligned his swollen cock-head with Hedda’s anus. The happily fucking couple behind him whooped and cheered as he started to push into his blonde friend’s incredibly tight sphincter. From below, Jon held her butt-cheeks apart, firmly gripping her white skin, while thrusting his own cock slowly into her cunt.
Bann liberally poured more oil onto Hedda’s delectable ass as he pushed against her asshole, watching as it oozed down her ass crack and trickled around the head of his penis before dripping down her pussy lips to coat Jon’s pistoning cock and balls. When Hedda flexed her haunches, Bann’s well-oiled cock suddenly popped inside her, wrapping his manhood in a warm, buttery, vice-like grip. Hedda let out a heavy breath.
“Oh gods, I feel so full!” she gasped.
“Fuck, Hedda, your ass is so gods damned tight!” was all Bann could sputter out as Jon removed his face from her cleavage and looked over the sandwiched spear-maiden’s shoulder to flash his friend a lusty, drunken smile.
The shield-bearer removed his hands from Hedda’s ass and wrapped his arms around the back of her neck, pulling the thoroughly stuffed female barbarian down to him, her tits mashing against his chest. Bann then placed his hands on the blonde warrior’s hips and leaned forward to fully sheath his length in her buttery back passage. Hedda shuddered with pleasure as the two barbarians mounting her began thrusting their meaty cocks in and out of her spread holes. Their efforts were disjointed at first, but eventually they established a rhythm. As Bann pushed his organ into her ass, Jon would withdraw his from her dripping pussy and soon the two cocks were sawing away in an alternating pattern of thrusts and the blonde barbarian was reduced to a quivering, grunting and moaning mass of pleasure.
Between gasps, Hedda twisted to reach back and grab Bann’s arm, pulling him down to lie with his chest against her back. Now properly sandwiched, the spear-maiden could feel her partners’ every movement as they gave her a proper fucking. Bann’s hips rose and fell as he humped vigorously, his cock filling her asshole exquisitely, while Jon grunted below her, pumping his hips upwards to thrust his engorged member into her quim. Hedda could feel the two meaty shafts rubbing against the thin wall that separated them inside her and her nipples stiffened with arousal at her debaucherous predicament, the two rock hard nubs pushing against Jon’s chest where her boobs were squeezed against him. Her ass jiggled and bounced as Bann’s eagerly thrusting pelvis slapped against it and the spear-maiden’s pale skin was soon covered with a sheen of sweat. Pressed between the two sweating, muscled and lust driven bodies of her friends as they plowed her arse and cunny relentlessly with their throbbing cocks, Hedda groaned in pleasure.
Through eyes half closed from the intense sensation of getting doubly penetrated she could see a few fellow soldiers gathering to watch the lewd scene. The thought of being watched, ass and cunt spread wide and stuffed with cock-meat, was too much for her and a powerful orgasm boiled through her thoroughly fucked body from her toes to her stretched holes and up her spine until it tingled across her scalp. As her orgasm tore through her, Bann could feel Hedda’s ass spasm and contract around his cock. The powerful pulses sent jolts of pleasure through his dick, edging him closer to the point of ejaculation.
“Gonna cum!” he exclaimed, pressing himself hard against the sweat-slick skin of Hedda’s back, his thrusting slowing in pace as his orgasm pushed its way up his shaft from his balls.
The hard-ridden Hedda could only manage a low moan, and suddenly she felt a burst of heat in her anus as Bann’s cock throbbed and erupted in her ass, splashing cum deep into her bowels and setting off another, smaller orgasm inside her. Bann could only lay slumped across his friend’s back as his over-stimulated organ pulsed and twitched, spurting what seemed like endless ropes of sloppy seed into her welcoming ass. At the bottom of the heap of orgasming barbarians, Jon kept languidly thrusting into Hedda’s quivering pussy.
“If you’re all done back there, joo mind climbing off? I think I want shome of that,” the warrior asked, words still slurred from the drink.
“Gods, that was good,” said Bann, feeling intensely satisfied. “Uh, yeah, all yours.”
Hedda gave him an exhausted smile as the young barbarian pulled his cock from her still spasming asshole. A trickle of his cum oozed from her well-used opening as Bann rolled to one side while Jon, holding her tightly against him, rolled Hedda onto her back so he was now above her. Once repositioned, he slid his tool, slippery with her cream, from her cunt, eliciting a tired moan from the blonde warrior, and pressed it against her slick asshole.
Already spread by the previous visitor, Hedda’s sphincter readily accepted the entrance of Jon’s turgid member and as Bann picked himself up to refill their flagons, the two were rutting vigorously once more.
“I’ll go get us some water,” he said wearily.
Over the slapping noises of Jon happily pounding his cock into her ass, Bann heard Hedda give him a tired ‘thanks’ and he wandered off to find something non-alcoholic to fill their flagons with. It had been quite a day, and some water would be a necessity if he wanted to avoid the worst of a hangover by the time the host departed in the morning.
Bann was exhausted and sore, but mostly he was disappointed. It had been a difficult day, despite a promising start. The first competition he had participated in was archery and he had managed to achieve a fair result, but the centaurs with their powerful longbows were in high demand and his mediocre result at the butts had resulted in none of the warband leaders choosing him. After the archery came the sparring matches and a brutish Kolgannis barbarian had hewn his shield three times without Bann managing to break even one. A three to two score against a large centaur and a tie against a centaur colt resulted once more in no war-leaders selecting him for their raiding parties. Finally, in the scrimmage, he’d let his frustration get the better of him and had charged too early, ending up ahead of his team and in the midst of the opposing team’s shield wall alone. A vicious rapp to the back his helmet from one of the ‘enemy’ warriors had both knocked him out of the running for a position in a summer raid and knocked him out. His ears were still ringing. Now the forlorn young barbarian sat on the grassy slope at the base of the palisades nursing his pride and a sympathetic clay mug of mead.
Spread across the field in front of him were the gathered warriors of the two human clans of Kolgannis and Koltar and the two centaur clans of Running Grass and Rolling Rock. On the far side of the crowd a small wooden dais had been constructed, for the use of the clan chiefs and the warband leaders. Amid the gathered mass of warriors immense bonfires and smaller cooking fires blazed. Whole cattle were broiling on spits and kegs of mead and ale had been broached and were in the process of being emptied. Drunken human barbarians and inebriated centaur raiders celebrated by dancing, eating, drinking and fucking in equal measure. Years previous, when he was too young to compete for selection but old enough to join the celebrations, Bann had been all too happy to stumble wide eyed through the partying soldiers, gawking at the imposing forms of veteran warriors and the strutting young first-chosen. Young warriors generally spent their first two summers after reaching adulthood as part of the village militia, guarding the homesteads and training for the selection games. As a young militia member, Bann had always dreamed of being counted as first-chosen, as the warriors selected for their first raiding party were known. Now that he hadn’t been selected, Bann felt his dreams die. He would just be another old militia man, unfit for the honour of the the warbands. Oh sure, old One-Eye and Jarl Dantig tried to claim there was still honour to be had in guarding the village, but, though both his parents were dead, Bann felt like his mother and father, both clan housecarls in their time, would have been disappointed.
As he moped into his mug, Bann watched Gunnar Long Arm, Chief of the Kolgannis, mount the dais. There had been a few rousing speeches so far as the war-leaders from the various raiding units stood to declare how formidable their band was and how much plunder they would return north with, but Gunnar was the first of the clan leaders to address the crowd of over two thousand armed soldiers. As he stepped to the front of the stage a deafening roar arose from the massed ranks.
The iron-grey haired barbarian spread his arms, palms facing down, for silence. As the rumble died down, he began to speak.
“Fellow warriors! Fellow battle-kin! It truly is an honour to stand before such a gathering of skill and strength!”
The crowd roared again.
“We of the Northern Alliance of Clans have always been the fiercest, greatest warriors to raid the steppe! In ages past, when the host of hosts gathered and overthrew the Empire, who led the charge south to smash the border lords?”
“WE DID!” bellowed the crowd.
“And when the mighty host reached the gates of the Imperial capital, who was the vanguard that first breached the walls of Drasich?”
“WE WERE!” came the shouted reply.
Bann sighed. Gunnar was speaking of the overthrow of the Empire of Thae. Everyone knew the story of the great army that was formed when the tribes and clans united under one banner to overthrow the human and elven rulers of the Empire. One hundred years ago the orcs, goblins, trolls and giants of the mountains had united with barbarians, centaurs and minotaurs from the plains and forests of the east to march against the Imperial armies, defeating them in the field and sacking the capital city, Drasich. The Empire hadn’t survived the incursion and had fractured into the smaller kingdoms and city states of the west. Drasich was still a major metropolis, but the former imperial capital was now just a city state run by the merchant’s guild.
“I stand before you, brave fighters, to tell you there will be no warbands this summer. No raiding, no skirmishes,” continued Gunnar, “Instead, a new host is gathering!”
This was different, thought Bann, brow knitting as he looked up from his mug. Just in time to make the day worse, it seems Bann would be missing out on a warhost. The throng of warriors crowding the field before him was a frenzy of cheering and weapons were being drawn and raised skywards.
“Once again the clans muster to conquer!” shouted Gunnar over the roar. “Once again we march south! For long we have let the cities of the south and west grow fat, and once again the tribes will gather to reap the harvest!”
Bann spat in disgust at his failure and hauled himself to his feet to drag himself off around the palisade and away from the celebration he felt excluded from. Taking his mug of booze, he stumbled toward the quiet spot where the orchards grew close to the wall, seeking a secluded place where he could nestle down and get properly acquainted with his self-pity. Nothing like a good wallow in misery, he thought as he slouched underneath the arching apple trees.
Once the cheering of the crowd had faded to a faint rumble, the dejected barbarian found a suitable tree and slumped against it. Just as he was taking a deep pull from his tankard, the sound of hushed voices wandered through the evenly spaced trees and into his ears. He was about to dismiss them and find a new, quieter place to drown his sorrows, thinking he was overhearing a couple who had slipped off to have their own, private celebration, when he recognized one of the voices as that of Lisbet, the beautiful centaur queen who’d dallied with him that morning.
“I suppose you have to go with them,” said Liz.
“I am a war-leader, after all,” replied a deeper voice.
“I know that. It’s just that I don’t think this war is a good idea,” said the queen, a note of exasperation in her voice.
Curiosity piqued, Bann rose to his hands and knees and crawled towards the voices. He figured the lower voice was that of Brakis, a huge, sable centaur stallion; one of Clan Running Grass’ most capable war-leaders and one of Lisbet’s consorts. Sure enough, a few orchard rows over from his chosen wallowing location, Bann spied the pretty centaur queen standing next to the dark black bulk of War-Leader Brakis. The conversing pair were lit by the dully glowing moonlight that trickled through the spring leaves of the apple trees.
“Why do we ally with the other tribes once more, Brakis? Why do we want to attack the southern cities?” continued Liz.
“The plunder, the honour-” Brakis started to explain.
“You know I have nothing against a good fight and a proper haul of loot, love, but this just doesn’t seem right. And who’s that shaman that follows Gunnar like a dog these days, whispering in his ear?” The queen sounded angry.
“I don’t know, Liz. That shaman’s odd, to be sure, but the war-leaders voted on this, and you know we must respect the decisions of the Alliance,” said Brakis.
“I know, I know. I wish you weren’t going, or that I could travel with the warbands this year-”
“You are likely with foal. I realise it is still early and you can still run faster than your clan-guard, but we cannot risk-”
“The heir. Yes, yes,” the queen finished his sentence, speaking the words as if she’d heard them countless times before.
Even at this distance, the queen’s estrus musk still found its way to Bann’s nose. The heady mix of pheromones made his heart thump loudly and caused a stirring under his kilt. In the moonlit orchard, the young barbarian watched, mesmerized, as Lisbet reached back to unclasp her leather armour.
“Well, if he must depart in the morning,” she said as she freed her bountiful breasts from the confines of her armoured jerkin and exposed her pale, freckled skin to the moonlight, “perhaps my consort would care to mount his queen once more before he departs to war?”
Bann heard the black stallion snort with lust as Lisbet spoke. The hulking, sable furred warrior stamped his hooves on the grass as he moved behind his queen. The barbarian watched with lust induced awe as the light of the moon reflected wetly off the moist lips of Lisbet’s equine cunny when she lifted her tail to present her sodden slit to her mate. Brakis snorted again and his truly massive flared phallus slid from its sheath at the tempting sight.
Lifting his front legs high, the stallion trotted forward a few steps to mount the female centaur. The blunt head of his hose-like cock prodded at the folds of Lisbet’s pussy, coming away shining with wetness, as the male centaur tried to align his organ with the mare’s sopping orifice. After a few futile thrusts, the centaur warchief’s arm length penis finally slid home and Lisbet let out a satisfied grunt as her needy pussy was steadily filled by Brakis’ throbbing cock-meat. Once his engorged length was sheathed inside his queen’s cunt, the black stallion began to thrust his massively muscled hindquarters. Bann couldn’t tear his eyes away from the lusty scene before him, and his ears picked up the wet, slick, obscene noise of the centaur’s gargantuan tool sliding in and out of the estrus mare’s wet opening.
“Oh, fuck me!” said the centaur queen in a hoarse whisper, “That cock of yours feels exquisite! I knew I kept you around for a reason.”
“I aim to please, my queen,” said Brakis as he leaned forward to wrap his arms around Lisbet’s torso.
The large centaur took her heaving tits in each hand and began to knead the freckled orbs, squeezing her perky nipples between the knuckles of his fingers as he did so. Lisbet leaned her head back into the crook of Brakis’ neck and shoulder, turning her head and kissing the imposing male deeply as they mated. To Bann, the centaur queen had seemed tall and imposing, but now she seemed dwarfed by the bulk of the equine warchief mounting her. The obscene sight, sounds and smell of the centaur mare in heat being mounted by the massive stallion enflamed Bann with lust. He didn’t even realise he’d lifted his kilt and was stroking his cock rigorously, such was the fog of desire in his head.
While he watched, masturbating furiously, Bann could see Lisbet’s black lipped cunny dripping and splattering the ground with clear pussy juice that glittered in the moonlight as it was squeezed from the queen with every momentous thrust of Brakis’ flared cock. The pair’s rutting became more frantic and the sable centaur male tilted his head to bite his mare’s neck affectionately as he plowed his oversized schlong in and out of her quim. Lisbet’s roan furred haunches quivered with the impacts of the stallion’s haunches and, every time the male mounting her pushed his cock home, she let slip a small moan that seemed to catch in her throat. Brakis’ calloused hands never stopped mauling and teasing the queens pale skinned breasts as he bred her with increasing urgency.
Suddenly, the large male made one more heavy thrust, his grapefruit sized black nutsack slapping against Lisbet’s mons one last time, and Brakis held himself still atop the centaur queen. She let out a loud exclamation, half moan, half cry of joy, and Bann could tell the huge centaur was filling the mare’s cunny with his seed. They stood motionless in the orchard clearing for a long moment, the female centaur moaning breathlessly while pinioned beneath the ejaculating male, before Brakis began moving backwards to dismount Lisbet. His impossibly long cock seemed to take an eternity to withdraw from the centaur queen’s properly fucked cunt. When the flared head finally popped free it was followed by a waterfall of pale spunk that gushed from her gaping pussy. Bann couldn’t help himself. He moaned as his cock pulsed and spurted cum onto the ground.
The centaurs had been gazing at one another in post-coital bliss, but as he moaned while his cock sprayed cum onto the ground, Bann realised they’d both turned to stare right at his hiding place. He froze, screwing his eyes shut and praying to whomever might be listening that he would not be noticed.
“Well well, what do we have here?” said a deep voice.
It was followed by a higher pitched giggle. Brann opened his eyes, cringing as he did so to find Lisbet and Brakis looking down at him. They hadn’t redressed yet and both centaurs were gleaming in the night’s silvery light, covered in a sheen of sweat from their passionate fucking. Brakis looked irritated, but behind him, Bann could see a wry grin of amusement on Lisbet’s lips. He realised he was still crouched on his knees, kilt hiked up, his rapidly deflating cock exposed for all to see. Bann hoped it was dark enough that they couldn’t make out who he was, let alone the deep crimson flush of embarrassment that was taking over his face. Maybe if he got up and ran into the night he would remain safely anonymous...
“Oh, hello Bann!” said Lisbet.
The little warrior’s heart sank. “Um. Hi, your majesty.”
“You know this little spy, my queen?” said Brakis.
“We’ve met before.” said Lisbet, winking at Bann.
Brakis flexed the muscles of his neck, cocking his head to the side as he did so, and cracked his knuckles.
“So? Do I teach this little voyeur a lesson?” he asked.
Lisbet chuckled again. “No, no, it’s fine, Brakis,” she replied. “In fact, if you’re heading back to the herd, I would have a few words alone with our little spy.”
Brakis gave her a nod. “As you wish,” he said, bowing before he left for the visiting clan’s encampment.
As the big stallion departed, Lisbet turned to put her armour on. Once clothed, she faced Bann, who was still blushing furiously. He tried to stammer out an apology, but the centaur queen shushed him, interrupting him.
“Don’t worry about it, my friend,” she said soothingly. “I know the effect a mare can have on a male when she’s in heat. No, there’s something else I wanted to ask of you. I noticed you weren’t chosen for a warband.”
The reminder brought Bann’s crushing despair back to the forefront of his mind.
“Yeah. I guess I wasn’t good enough,” he said, looking down at the ground and trying not to show Lisbet how much the rejection affected him.
“There will always be another competition, Bann,” said Lisbet. “You can try again next spring.”
“But this year there’s a warhost, and I’m going to miss it, stuck in the village guarding the bairns and crops,” moaned Bann.
“There’s honour in that,” said the queen, “but I get the feeling that isn’t enough.”
Bann waited for her to continue. He’d heard the ‘honour in guarding the homesteads’ speech from old One-Eye. It was an important task, but the glory to be gained in a warband was immeasurably greater and in a warhost the greatest glory awaited. The barbarian could only imagine the champions and heroes that would have their legends forged on the battlefields.
“With the host in the field, I’ll need liaisons to deliver messages and keep me informed. I think having a human on my staff would ease the process of communicating with the warhost leaders.” Lisbet continued, “There would be many responsibilities for you, and travelling to and from a host in the field could be dangerous. I have a few other liaisons as well, so you would not be alone in the task, but I think you would be an asset. Do you think you’re up to the job?”
He would be a messenger boy, but he would get a chance to travel with the warhost. Bann practically yelped his acceptance.
“Excellent!” Lisbet beamed at the enthusiastic warrior. “I’ll speak with your Jarl and let him know I’ll be commandeering one of his warriors.”
Bann was in a much better mood as he made his way back to the ongoing celebrations in the meadow. Lisbet had walked with him some of the way, talking about her younger days when she and Bann’s clan chief Dantig had been lowly warband leaders, but Bann had barely taken in any of what she was saying, his head packed full of excitement over the idea of marching with the warhost and the glory he could win. When Lisbet had parted from him to head towards the gathered clan chiefs, Bann had continued on to join the celebrations, refilling his mug with mead and seeking out his friends Hedda and Jon. After asking a few drunken Clan Koltar warriors, he found the spearmaiden and her shield-bearer beside one of the roaring bonfires. Hedda was seated on the ground, leaning against a large, half full tun of ale, while Jon was sprawled on the ground in front of her, head in her lap and obviously the worse for drink. At some point during the night’s proceedings both warriors had managed to get drunk enough to lose their shirts and, while the fair warrior seemed to be doing her best to polish off the barrel she was leaning against, her shield-bearer seemed barely conscious. Jon could never keep up with Hedda when it came to quaffing ale.
The young woman had been selected four years ago to raid with a warband led by a Kolgannis warchief named Gwen Steel Arm and, as was custom, would join Gwen’s warband again this year when they marched with the warhost. Hedda had tried to comfort her friend when Bann realised he would not be joining the warhost, but had ended up watching the despondent warrior slouch off to drink alone. She couldn’t help but notice the grin he bore when he returned.
“You seem happier,” she said as the smiling Bann picked his way past various inebriated partiers to sit beside her. “Some young lass take pity on you and let you get your dick wet?”
“Looks like I’ll be joining the host this year!” beamed the young barbarian, causing Hedda to raise an eyebrow in query.
“You’re looking at the newest warhost liaison for Clan Running Grass!” explained Bann.
Hedda squealed with glee and leaned over the comatose Jon to give her friend a hug. “Who’d you have to shag to get that post?” she asked.
Bann’s heart trilled as his half-clad crush hugged him. Jon groaned audibly as his face was smothered by Hedda’s ample bosom.
“Whatsh going on?” mumbled Jon, words slurred with drink.
“Bann’s going to be traveling with the host!” exclaimed Hedda.
“Oh good,” said her shield-bearer as he struggled to open his groggy eyes, “How’d joo shwing that?”
Bann delved into the story enthusiastically. Jon reached up from his prone position to give Bann a jab in the ribs and a crooked grin when the younger warrior described his morning at the butts and his first meeting with Lisbet. Hedda asked some pointed questions about the big stallion Brakis when he came to the part about catching the centaur queen and her consort in flagrante in the orchard. Bann tried not to be too lewd, but by the end of his story the two barbarians were laughing uproariously at their youngest friend’s debauched tale.
“You fucked a shentaur queen in the ash?”
“Oh my gods, Bann, was it really as big as your arm?!”
“Hand to heart,” said Bann solemnly, “I tell no lie.”
“Thish callsh for another drink,” said Jon, groaning once more as he clambered to his feet to dunk the party’s mugs in the ale barrel.
Hedda scooted forward to let Jon lean against the barrel as he sat down behind her and handed their now full mugs back. Once he was seated she leaned back against him and raised her flagon.
“I propose a toast!” she announced.
“Yesh! A toasht to the newesht shouldier to join the hosht!” agreed Jon, raising his mug with hers.
“Aw, thanks guys,” said Bann, clinking his mug against theirs and drinking deeply, “but I’m just going to be a messenger. You two will get the real glory.”
“Hey now,” chided Hedda, “You’ll be marching with the host and I’m sure you’ll get to join the fight when it happens!”
“Yesh,” slurred Jon as he lazily reached a hand around the ribs of the beautiful barbarian leaning against him to grope one of her large, exposed tits, “and joo got to fuck a shentaur in the ash. Joo should tell ush more about dat.”
In front of the happy group a couple of fellow warriors had shed their armour and the three idly watched as a female barbarian with long black hair hiked up her kilt to lower herself onto her red bearded companion’s erect penis. The black haired woman raised and dropped her ass onto her man’s lap with short, quick movements as they began to fuck, uncaring of the audience they had.
“That’s getting me fucking hot,” said Hedda as she watched the couple hump. “Why are we just talking about a good fucking...”
Her words trailed off as she reached over and slowly ran her hands up Bann’s thigh and under his kilt. Her fingers were cool from where they were gripping her now discarded mug of ale and they felt exquisite when they found Bann’s cock and balls. While Jon slowly groped her tit-flesh and teased her nipples, Hedda fondled Bann’s sack and tickled her finger-tips over his hardening manhood.
Hedda and Bann had fucked a couple of times before, although she usually lay with Jon, and Bann knew the pair were not exclusive to one another. Contraceptive potions were easy to make and acquire, so casual sex was commonplace among the tribes. When a couple like Hedda and Jon declared themselves for one another it was about an emotional bond as opposed to satiating a bit of carnal lust.
Jon placed his mug on the ground beside him and, both hands now free, lifted Hedda’s kilt to her waist. While gently rolling one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger he reached down to run his other hand through the trimmed, blonde hair on her mons and slowly moved a teasing finger over her labia.
Across from them the other barbarian pair were settling into a good pace, the raven haired woman squatting above the red bearded warrior’s lap while he thrust upwards into her. Their steady coupling produced a slapping noise as their skin smacked together and both were panting in unison.
Bann looked over at Hedda, grinning. “How do you want to do this?” he asked.
In response, she turned over and moved herself down between Jon’s legs, lifting his kilt as she did so. Taking his semi-erect cock in her hand, her lips brushed it as she wiggled her upraised butt and said “Why don’t you lick my pussy and we’ll see where we go from there?”
Bann moved behind Hedda, stripping off his tunic and kilt as he did so. His young muscles gleamed in the firelight. He kneeled and leaned in to put his lips against her slit, giving it a gentle kiss before sliding his tongue between her folds. Hedda gasped as she felt his tongue slide into her and began to bob her head up and down over Jon’s shaft, sucking on it fiercely. The fornicating couple across the fire had slowed their pace and turned their heads to watch as the three barbarians orally serviced each other.
Hedda’s cunt tasted sweet and salty on Bann’s tongue, and he reached between his legs to tug himself to full hardness as he enthusiastically ate her out. Jon moved himself forward to lie on the ground, moaning in pleasure as the spear-maiden’s pink lips slid up and down his now turgid erection.
“Godsh, girl, thatsh fucking nishe,” he mumbled between heavy breaths.
“Mmmmm. Bann’s got me nice and wet. You boys ready for this?” said Hedda as she moved up to straddle Jon’s waist.
With a leg on either side of his thighs, the blonde barbarian mirrored the actions of her black-haired kin and lowered herself onto the tumescent tool now between her legs. She let out a long sigh as she felt Jon’s engorged mass push into her cunt and leaned forward to wrap her arms around her shield-bearer’s head and mash his face into her titties.
She ordered Jon to pull her cheeks apart and then looked over her shoulder at Bann and gave him a wink and a smile, saying, “Go for it. You can tell Jon how it compares to a queen’s royal asshole afterwards.”
“Here, use this!” shouted the dark haired barbarian from the other side of the bonfire as she bucked her hips atop her partner’s entombed penis, “She’ll appreciate a little oil!”
The woman tossed a small flask from her side of the fire over to where Bann was standing and stroking his shaft. Bann grinned back at her while he popped the cork from the bottle’s neck and poured a generous amount of the slick oil it contained over his manhood. After smearing the lube over his veiny cock, he dropped to his knees and aligned his swollen cock-head with Hedda’s anus. The happily fucking couple behind him whooped and cheered as he started to push into his blonde friend’s incredibly tight sphincter. From below, Jon held her butt-cheeks apart, firmly gripping her white skin, while thrusting his own cock slowly into her cunt.
Bann liberally poured more oil onto Hedda’s delectable ass as he pushed against her asshole, watching as it oozed down her ass crack and trickled around the head of his penis before dripping down her pussy lips to coat Jon’s pistoning cock and balls. When Hedda flexed her haunches, Bann’s well-oiled cock suddenly popped inside her, wrapping his manhood in a warm, buttery, vice-like grip. Hedda let out a heavy breath.
“Oh gods, I feel so full!” she gasped.
“Fuck, Hedda, your ass is so gods damned tight!” was all Bann could sputter out as Jon removed his face from her cleavage and looked over the sandwiched spear-maiden’s shoulder to flash his friend a lusty, drunken smile.
The shield-bearer removed his hands from Hedda’s ass and wrapped his arms around the back of her neck, pulling the thoroughly stuffed female barbarian down to him, her tits mashing against his chest. Bann then placed his hands on the blonde warrior’s hips and leaned forward to fully sheath his length in her buttery back passage. Hedda shuddered with pleasure as the two barbarians mounting her began thrusting their meaty cocks in and out of her spread holes. Their efforts were disjointed at first, but eventually they established a rhythm. As Bann pushed his organ into her ass, Jon would withdraw his from her dripping pussy and soon the two cocks were sawing away in an alternating pattern of thrusts and the blonde barbarian was reduced to a quivering, grunting and moaning mass of pleasure.
Between gasps, Hedda twisted to reach back and grab Bann’s arm, pulling him down to lie with his chest against her back. Now properly sandwiched, the spear-maiden could feel her partners’ every movement as they gave her a proper fucking. Bann’s hips rose and fell as he humped vigorously, his cock filling her asshole exquisitely, while Jon grunted below her, pumping his hips upwards to thrust his engorged member into her quim. Hedda could feel the two meaty shafts rubbing against the thin wall that separated them inside her and her nipples stiffened with arousal at her debaucherous predicament, the two rock hard nubs pushing against Jon’s chest where her boobs were squeezed against him. Her ass jiggled and bounced as Bann’s eagerly thrusting pelvis slapped against it and the spear-maiden’s pale skin was soon covered with a sheen of sweat. Pressed between the two sweating, muscled and lust driven bodies of her friends as they plowed her arse and cunny relentlessly with their throbbing cocks, Hedda groaned in pleasure.
Through eyes half closed from the intense sensation of getting doubly penetrated she could see a few fellow soldiers gathering to watch the lewd scene. The thought of being watched, ass and cunt spread wide and stuffed with cock-meat, was too much for her and a powerful orgasm boiled through her thoroughly fucked body from her toes to her stretched holes and up her spine until it tingled across her scalp. As her orgasm tore through her, Bann could feel Hedda’s ass spasm and contract around his cock. The powerful pulses sent jolts of pleasure through his dick, edging him closer to the point of ejaculation.
“Gonna cum!” he exclaimed, pressing himself hard against the sweat-slick skin of Hedda’s back, his thrusting slowing in pace as his orgasm pushed its way up his shaft from his balls.
The hard-ridden Hedda could only manage a low moan, and suddenly she felt a burst of heat in her anus as Bann’s cock throbbed and erupted in her ass, splashing cum deep into her bowels and setting off another, smaller orgasm inside her. Bann could only lay slumped across his friend’s back as his over-stimulated organ pulsed and twitched, spurting what seemed like endless ropes of sloppy seed into her welcoming ass. At the bottom of the heap of orgasming barbarians, Jon kept languidly thrusting into Hedda’s quivering pussy.
“If you’re all done back there, joo mind climbing off? I think I want shome of that,” the warrior asked, words still slurred from the drink.
“Gods, that was good,” said Bann, feeling intensely satisfied. “Uh, yeah, all yours.”
Hedda gave him an exhausted smile as the young barbarian pulled his cock from her still spasming asshole. A trickle of his cum oozed from her well-used opening as Bann rolled to one side while Jon, holding her tightly against him, rolled Hedda onto her back so he was now above her. Once repositioned, he slid his tool, slippery with her cream, from her cunt, eliciting a tired moan from the blonde warrior, and pressed it against her slick asshole.
Already spread by the previous visitor, Hedda’s sphincter readily accepted the entrance of Jon’s turgid member and as Bann picked himself up to refill their flagons, the two were rutting vigorously once more.
“I’ll go get us some water,” he said wearily.
Over the slapping noises of Jon happily pounding his cock into her ass, Bann heard Hedda give him a tired ‘thanks’ and he wandered off to find something non-alcoholic to fill their flagons with. It had been quite a day, and some water would be a necessity if he wanted to avoid the worst of a hangover by the time the host departed in the morning.
The Clan Wars - Chapter 03
Chapter 3 - Dayna
The cluster of candles on her desk flickered, disturbed by a cold breeze blowing through her west facing window. The elven mage stopped reading to get up and draw the window’s shutters closed. Typical among elven kind, Dayna stood just over six feet tall. She was clad in a grey tunic, cinched around the waist with a silvered chain belt. A pair of dark blue hose were tucked into her black calfskin boots - she was wearing her comfortable traveling clothes rather than the usual university robe. Her wavy auburn hair was tied behind her in a ponytail to keep it out of her eyes. Shutters closed, the tall mage returned to the text she had been roused from. Her grey-green eyes flitted from line to line, her lips pursed in concentration.
The cover of the book in her hands read ‘Forbisher’s Bestiary of the Outer Hells’. Dayna was a demonologist at the University of Drasich and tonight she was on the cusp of an academic breakthrough. Recent observations of the Demonic realms known colloquially as the Hells had posited that a significant power struggle was underway. Ruled by a cabal of powerful demon lords from their strongholds in the Inner Realms, the Hells were continually embroiled in a low intensity civil war as demons who grew in power politicked and vied for positions of authority. Despite this, the most powerful demon lords, known as Demon Princes, had held on to their positions at the top of the hierarchy for almost a millenia and up until recently the infernal game had been the domain of the lesser lords attempting to secure a position slightly higher up the food chain.
Signs indicated the situation was changing, however. Summoners had found their conjured demons had shifted allegiances. Lords of Hell who had once been subservient to a specific Prince or Duke now claimed free-agent status or had switched loyalties entirely. For Dayna, this shift had become the subject of her post-graduate thesis and this night she was finalizing her preparations for a trip into one of the outer realms.
Her objective was the realm of a Duke of Hell named Habernalle. She had met the Duke a few times prior, accompanying her tutor on trips through portal gates on fact finding and reagent gathering journeys. Each time one travelled the outer realms there were countless preparations to be made, and this time, her first solo trip, was no different. Wards had to be crafted, spells memorized and charms acquired. Even with the appropriate protections, to gain an audience with a demon lord required a trade, and Dayna had spent a small fortune getting her hands on a few artifacts of power to offer for the information she required.
As she sat at her desk jotting down a few final notes in her journal, her familiar scurried about, packing a small handcart with the various luggage and supplies needed for the journey. Gomp was a two and a half foot tall imp with dark red skin, tiny, leathery wings, nubby, inch long horns, a spade tipped tail and a propensity for sniffing the contents of Dayna’s laundry basket when he thought she wasn’t looking. She had summoned the depraved creature in her first year at the university and had bound him to her with a small diamond shaped tattoo on the lower left side of her neck. Being bound to a mage was an annoyance to demon-kind, but could only happen if the mage responsible was significantly more powerful than the demon. Furthermore, the demon’s free will was not limited except for a restriction on harming their summoner and the ability for the mage to warp the creature to their side at will. The result, for Dayna, was having command over a small bundle of leering, consistently lewd trouble. Between his refusal to wear clothes, his habit of smelling her underwear and groping her whenever he thought he could get away with it and trying to steal things from her fellow students, faculty and anyone who happened to be within range, the elven mage found the foul mouthed imp to be almost more trouble than he was worth. Still, the diminutive, horny creature had helped her out of a few tight spots (often in exchange for favours the elf would rather not talk about), and his few innate magical abilities came in rather useful for some of the more complex spells she had attempted.
“Alright boss. We’re good to go,” said Gomp as he pulled the supply laden cart to the edge of the portal circle etched into the ground in the centre of Dayna’s study. “How ‘bout dat reward you promised me?”
Dayna turned in her chair to see the imp rubbing his semi-erect cock while grinning lasciviously at her. “Fine,” she replied, turning back to the bestiary lying open on her desk, “but only a couple of minutes while I finish my reading and my shirt stays on.”
The imp chortled with glee as he scurried over to Dayna’s desk. “Dis is gonna be good!” he said as he clambered into her lap, his faintly sulfuric odour filling her nose and his demonic heat radiating through her trousers and warming the skin where he perched on her thighs.
The randy familiar flashed his pointed teeth in a lusty grin as he reached up with both hands to grope Dayna’s pert breasts, his small, clawed hands not quite able to fully envelop even her modest bosom. The elven mage tried ignore the frenzied efforts of the lust-driven imp, but couldn’t help glancing down from her book as he delivered a sharp pinch to each of her nipples, causing them to strain against the fabric of her tunic. The red skinned creature’s cock had swollen to a foot in length and Dayna could see clear, musky smelling pre-cum oozing from its engorged head.
“Off!” she shouted, tilting her legs to deposit Gomp unceremoniously onto the floor. “I don’t want that nasty stuff on my clothes!”
The imp grumbled as he picked himself up off the floor and shuffled around behind her chair, managing to look dejected even as his foot long erection bobbed along in front of him. “Fine, but I still get to play with dem titties while I jerk!” he said petulantly as he reached back around to squeeze her left breast with one hand once he was behind her.
Dayna sighed. “Whatever. I just better not find any of your disgusting jizz on my clothes when you’re done. And you’re cleaning it off the floor before we leave.”
“Yes ma’am,” said the imp, underscoring the last word with another firm pinch of Dayna’s nipple.
A few minutes later, Dayna stood in the centre of the portal circle, staff in hand, satchel over her shoulder and a fine, long dagger tucked into her boot. She’d checked the cart properly and had encased it in a basic protective ward - good enough to keep anyone not looking for it from noticing it was even there. Now she waited for Gomp as the tiny demon scrubbed the floor behind her chair with a soapy sponge. Once he was finished, he walked over to stand between the handles of the small cart and dragged it into the circle.
As Dayna began the portal incantation, her sewer-tongued familiar looked up at her and said “Dem boobies aren’t very big, but I still shoulda asked for a tittyfu-”
And then everything went black.
Traveling by portal is a disorienting experience, but Dayna was used to it. She was more worried about what might lie on the other side. If her calculations were off, she might end up embedded in a mountain, or transported to a realm where air doesn’t exist or, in the worst case, adrift in the void. She’d brought along spells to create a pocket of breathable air or a floating platform among various other helpful spells and thought she was well prepared, but when she and Gomp rematerialized what she really wished she’d done is put on her cloak before they left.
It was raining. Judging by the bleak, black, blue and purple rocks surrounding them and the twisted, leafless trees she could see in the distance, Dayna had gotten the location right. This was definitely Duke Habernalle’s realm. Despite the accuracy of her portal, however, Dayna wasn’t happy. The reason for her unhappiness was the translucent, thick, viscous slime that was pouring torrentially from the deep black clouds that covered the sky. It fell in fat, heavy drops and by the time she’d retrieved her dark grey waterproof cloak from the handcart Gomp was dragging, her hair was matted and her clothes clung soggily to her skin. She wiped away a goopy strand of the stuff as it dripped in a long string from her earlobe and quickly pulled her hood up.
Gomp, red skin shining wetly with the goo rain, was lying in a laughing, twitching heap between the handles of the cart. “Ha! And you said you didn’t want any of my sticky stuff on your clothes! Dat’s some fucking rich irony!” he sputtered out between guffaws of mirth.
“Shut up and follow me,” said Dayna as she felt another strand of the slime trickle under her tunic collar and begin oozing its way down her cleavage. “What the fuck is this shit?” she asked no-one in particular.
Habernalle was a Duke of Hell, a powerful entity (although not quite on par with a Prince of Hell), and his realm was suitably expansive. He’d gotten his power the same way every demon gained power; through the acquisition of souls. There was only one way a demon could acquire a soul. Some cultures, Dayna knew, counted various manners in which a soul could be lost - various sins like murder or theft tended to rank among them, but it all really boiled down to one thing; desire. If you wanted something badly enough and a demon could offer it, you were in trouble. Vengeance, sex, wealth, power, or simply for the pain to end - there were many wants, many avenues for a demon to get to you, but they all revolved around that central tenet of desire.
Dayna was pondering on the nature of demons and focusing on maintaining her wards as she and Gomp trudged down the scree covered hillside where they’d materialized and on towards the leafless forest. The elf knew where she was going, having been to Habernalle’s realm before and so wasn’t paying too much attention to the passing scenery as they entered the woods.
“Perhaps you require a guide, fair creature?” said a melodious baritone voice.
Dayna was startled, but tried to hide it as she looked around at the trees for the source of the voice.
“Raise your eyes, sweet lass,” said an equally musical although higher pitched voice.
Peering upwards while trying to keep the slime rain out of her eyes, the elven mage saw two demons, an incubus and a succubus by the looks of them, sitting on a thick branch that hung above the forest path. Both had completely black skin and were totally hairless. Their nude forms were covered by the gooey rain, but instead of making them bedraggled as Dayna was sure she looked, the transparent slime made them shine, the faint light of the realm reflecting brightly off their midnight skin, etching outlines of chiseled muscles and rounded curves.
The baritone voice belonged to a lean, muscled demon, his well defined abs and slab-like pecs rippling, bunching and stretching as he hopped down from his perch. The immense, black feathered wings on his back spread to slow his descent as he neared the ground and then folded up neatly behind him as he came to stand before Dayna. The mage couldn’t help but notice the smooth, hefty penis that hung flaccid between his toned thighs. Landing next to him was a form that could have been his female twin - equally well muscled, but with large, round breasts high on her chest that jiggled slightly as she landed, an hourglass waist and smooth mons instead of a cock. Neither had a single strand of hair on their statuesque bodies, and both had fine featured, noble faces. Their eyes glowed a deep russet orange, their gaze was piercing.
“I know the way, thank you,” said Dayna, politely trying not to stare at the chiseled incubus.
“Damn! You got nice titties!” said Gomp as he lewdly gawked at the lush succubus.
The pair let out a rich, warm peal of laughter.
“Where are you bound?” asked the woman.
“I seek an audience with Habernalle,” replied Dayna, starting to walk around the two demons.
“Truly?” said the incubus, “You have a long journey ahead, you should rest a while with my sister Keira and me before you continue on your way.”
“My brother Keiran and I can be very pleasant company,” said the succubus.
“I’m sure,” murmured Dayna, “but I really must get moving. I’m afraid I won’t be such charming company.”
The two demons spread their wings once more and flapped them in a short, controlled motion that kept them upright and flying backwards, just ahead of Dayna as she walked along the path.
“It’s such a long way to Habernalle’s throne. Perhaps I could carry you?” said the very masculine Keiran.
Keira fluttered in front of her brother and turned towards him. She traced her fingers across his glistening pecs as she looked over her shoulder back at Dayna, “He’s so strong. I’m sure he can carry you easily, and flying is so much faster and more fun than boring old walking.”
“Thank you, again, but no thanks,” said Dayna.
“Hey, sugar tits, you can carry me!” said Gomp.
While they laughed at the imp’s lewd interjection, Keira folded her wings in and Keiran reached his arm around her waist. The incubus kept the demonic pair aloft with strong beats of his wings while holding his sister against him with one arm. The succubus stretched her right arm over his shoulders, behind his neck, pressing her large right breast, shiny with the slime raining from the sky, against the left side of her brother’s chest.
Pouting, she looked at her brother, then back at Dayna and said, “It seems the elf is boring and doesn’t want to play, brother dearest.”
“It matters not, sister mine, mayhap we can amuse ourselves while we watch this boring elf get into trouble,” said Keiran before before leaning in to bite his sister’s earlobe gently.
Keira moaned loudly, a rich, throaty sound, as her brother nibbled her ear and she turned her head to kiss him deeply. As she did so, she stopped tracing her fingers over the incubus’ impressive pecs and slowly moved her left hand downwards, grazing her nails over his washboard abs until her hand came to the base of her brother’s cock. Delicately, the succubus ran her fingertips along the length of Keiran’s penis. Dayna could see it twitch under her caress as blood pumped into it and the weighty tool grew erect. The mage’s quim tingled as a tickle of arousal grew within her.
“Fuck yes!” said Gomp, “I think we’re gonna get a show!”
Dayna’s familiar openly started stroking himself, coiling his spaded tail around the handle where his hand used to be so he could keep dragging the cart as he masturbated.
“This rain makes a fucking fine lube, boss,” said the horny imp, left hand pumping his shaft, eyes glued to the scene the two hovering demons were making.
“Mmmmm, it does, doesn’t it,” moaned Keira, as she wrapped her fingers around Keiran’s cock and began working it to full hardness with short tugs of her hand.
Under the skillful ministrations of his sister’s hand, the male demon’s hefty penis was soon tumescent, swelling up to a truly immense size. Dayna felt a hot flush creep across her body, despite the steady beating of the cool, slimy rain. Her right hand was holding her staff as she walked, but hidden under her cloak her left hand migrated up under the fringe of her tunic and then down under the waistband of her hose until she found the warm dampness of her aroused pussy. Slowly she brushed her fingers across her labia and tried not to moan.
Once the the incubus’ meaty phallus was properly stiff, the rain greased succubus turned in his arms to wrap her legs around his hips. Keiran slipped his arms under her raised legs to grip her ass, a large round cheek in each hand, as he lifted her up and pressed his sister’s nude body to his chest. With one arm wrapped around her brother’s neck, Keira reached down with the other to grasp his cock once more and guide it into her needy pussy as he lowered her onto it.
As the turgid, slick member slowly entered her, the succubus let out a low, breathy moan and whispered, “Oh, sweet brother mine!”
From her vantage point trailing behind and below the copulating pair, Dayna could see the succubus’ labia stretched wide as her brother’s engorged organ slid into it. The elven mage’s clit grew hard she watched the incubus languidly begin to thrust his hips upwards between his sister’s spread thighs, the impacts causing the female demon’s glorious buttocks to ripple and shake. Both demons were covered in the slimy rain, their pitch black skin was oily with the strange precipitation, and it dripped off the mating siblings in long ropey strands.
Keiran beat his wings slowly, just fast enough to keep ahead of Dayna as she made her way through the forest. Both he and his sister looked down at the elf with their glowing orange eyes as their skin slapped wetly together to the rhythm of their passionate rutting.
“Do you think she’s wishing she’d chosen to join us, dear sister?” said Keiran as he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts, his balls swinging heavily beneath his sister’s spread asscheeks.
Keira arched her back, thrusting her heaving bosom into her brother’s face, all the while maintaining eye contact with the elven mage below her.
“I think I see some envy in those eyes, my love,” replied the succubus as she mashed her oily, voluptuous form against her brother’s corded muscles.
Dayna was both envious and frustrated. The wanton display above her was driving her wild with lust and she knew she wouldn’t be able to get off from surreptitiously frigging herself beneath her cloak as she walked. Trying to take her mind off the lewd scene, she glanced around at her surroundings, her eyes quickly skipping over the sight of Gomp pulling the cart beside her, stroking his oversized, lube slicked appendage while lustily watching the two fornicating demons above him. The trees around them were thinning out, and Dayna figured they were nearing the edge of the woods. If she recalled correctly they’d have to cross a stretch of open plain before they reached the gates of Habernalle’s bastion.
Sure enough, the leafless forest soon gave way to an open plain that rolled off into the dark grey fog that shrouded the distant horizon. The gently undulating landscape was covered with a carpet of strange dark red grass with blades about two feet in length. Looming far ahead of the strange party was a massive, craggy fortress. Dayna estimated it was about four hours away and wondered if she would be escorted the whole distance by the vigorously mating demon siblings. The overripe aura of lust they exuded was getting to her and the mage worried that she’d have to stop and finger herself to orgasm before much longer and she definitely didn’t want to do that in front of the two demons.
Beside her, Gomp grunted loudly as he jerked himself to orgasm. His fountain of ejaculate elicited a debaucherous coo from Keira followed by another peal of rich laughter from the demon couple as they slowly circled as they fucked, just above the heads of the two travellers on foot. The incubus kept pumping his cock in and out of his sister’s dripping quim as they lazily flew through the air like a pair of pornographic vultures.
Hours passed and the imposing bastion in the distance grew larger as the party drew closer to it. The elf fought to keep the burning desire inside her under control. Dayna’s hope that her rutting demon escort would grow bored and leave them remained unfulfilled. The incubus’ stamina was supernatural, of course, and the siblings kept pace, languidly fucking each other as they hovered just above the elf and the imp. The horny little Gomp clearly loved the show the two demons were putting on and happily masturbated again and again, spilling his ejaculate on the slate slabs that paved their path towards the castle. It was only when the guards at the gate monolithic gatehouse to the Duke of Hell’s keep became clearly visible that the airborne sex addicts seemed to decide it was time to finish up.
Putting lips against her brother’s ear while they hovered just in front of the sexually frustrated elven mage, the succubus said, in a whisper loud enough that Dayna was clearly meant to hear, “Fill me now, sweet brother. Pour your seed into me.”
“Mmmm,” came the incubus’ melodious baritone voice in reply, “how could a dutiful brother say no to any request from such a sweet, caring sister?”
The male demon’s neck muscles strained against his skin and he moaned loudly. Dayna couldn’t help but watch as his smooth, weighty balls grew taut and a flood of pearly white cum overflowed from the succubus’ well fucked cunt as her brother’s cock ejaculated into it. It fell in heavy, wet dollops from her stretched quim to splatter and mingle with the sheen of slime rain that coated the ground. The demon extended her wings and parted from her brother’s embrace to alight in front of the iron portcullis in the middle of the gatehouse. On either side of the imposing entrance, a pair of guards lounged against the stone work, watching the party’s progress towards the gatehouse. Dayna could see they were beastmen; strange amalgams of goat and human and a type of lesser demon often used as foot soldiers by demon lords. Their goat like faces were split into leering grins as they watched the succubus dip a finger into her cum-oozing pussy and then lick the jizz-covered digit clean.
Dayna’s cunt was on fire. The hours she’d spent walking behind the passionately copulating pair of demons had left her yearning for release. Trying to maintain her composure, she walked over to one of the beastmen standing by the keep gates. As she approached her nose filled with an earthy, cloying odour that radiated off the shaggy demon soldiers. The guard closest to her was at least seven feet tall, possessing a bestial, goat like visage atop a humanoid, almost comically muscled chest. Where his torso met his legs, the lesser demon’s body became bestial once more - his digitigrade legs were covered in a shaggy coat of brown fur and he stood on pair of cloven hooves instead of feet. Between his legs swung a girthy, goat-like cock, glistening pink and tapering to a fine point. Behind his inhuman phallus hung a massive pair of fur covered balls. All four of the demonic guards had a distinct lack of armour and clothes but gripped wicked looking halberds as they stood watch.
The strange creature nonchalantly scratched his hairy sack and sneered at Dayna as she walked up to him.
“Whaaat do you waaant?” he asked in a bleating voice.
“I need to speak with Duke Habernalle,” explained Dayna.
On her previous visits, accompanying her tutor, they’d had to pay for entry - a magical trinket or the like would suffice for the entry tax. Dayna reached into her satchel to produce seance crystal and offered it to the guard.
“I have an item to trade for passage.”
“Too baaad, elf,” said the goat-man, “Haaabernaaalle haaas saaaid no visitors.”
The mage sighed in frustration. This was shaping up to be an irksome encounter. She pulled an onyx ring from her satchel and added it to the offering for the guard. The beast reached out with a very human hand to take the trinkets from Dayna and held them up for examination.
“Hmmmm. Maaagicaaal. Not baaad,” bleated the guard.
By now the other three beastmen had gathered round to observe the negotiations. One was quite similar to the guard she was currently conversing with, but with black fur instead of brown. The other two were clearly female - they lacked the male genitalia of their comrades and each had an impressive set of mammaries hanging from their muscled torsos. One had reddish brown fur while the other had grey fur that was streaked with white and black vertical bands. The two females were also bigger by half a foot than the male guards and seemed to carry themselves with some authority over their smaller brethren, as demonstrated when the grey furred demon reached out and snatched the two magic trinkets from the hand of the male as he examined them.
“Mine!” said the imposing beastwoman and glowered at the smaller male as if challenging him to do anything about the theft. Keeping the ring for herself, she handed the crystal to her female comrade.
“Aaaah! Pretty!” said the russet furred guard as she held the crystal up in the gloomy light.
“Well,” said Dayna, trying to move past the two male guards, “I see we have a deal. I’ll just go on in then.”
Her progress was halted when the black furred beastman slapped his ham like palm against her chest.
“Not so faaast,” he said. “They got theirs. We waaant ours.”
A leery grin smeared itself across his face and Dayna felt the restraining hand on her chest curve to cup her perky breast through her tunic, calloused thumb rubbing across her erect nipple. Her pussy tingled again with unwarranted lust while her stomach fluttered with nervousness.
Behind her she could hear Gomp snickering gleefully.
The cluster of candles on her desk flickered, disturbed by a cold breeze blowing through her west facing window. The elven mage stopped reading to get up and draw the window’s shutters closed. Typical among elven kind, Dayna stood just over six feet tall. She was clad in a grey tunic, cinched around the waist with a silvered chain belt. A pair of dark blue hose were tucked into her black calfskin boots - she was wearing her comfortable traveling clothes rather than the usual university robe. Her wavy auburn hair was tied behind her in a ponytail to keep it out of her eyes. Shutters closed, the tall mage returned to the text she had been roused from. Her grey-green eyes flitted from line to line, her lips pursed in concentration.
The cover of the book in her hands read ‘Forbisher’s Bestiary of the Outer Hells’. Dayna was a demonologist at the University of Drasich and tonight she was on the cusp of an academic breakthrough. Recent observations of the Demonic realms known colloquially as the Hells had posited that a significant power struggle was underway. Ruled by a cabal of powerful demon lords from their strongholds in the Inner Realms, the Hells were continually embroiled in a low intensity civil war as demons who grew in power politicked and vied for positions of authority. Despite this, the most powerful demon lords, known as Demon Princes, had held on to their positions at the top of the hierarchy for almost a millenia and up until recently the infernal game had been the domain of the lesser lords attempting to secure a position slightly higher up the food chain.
Signs indicated the situation was changing, however. Summoners had found their conjured demons had shifted allegiances. Lords of Hell who had once been subservient to a specific Prince or Duke now claimed free-agent status or had switched loyalties entirely. For Dayna, this shift had become the subject of her post-graduate thesis and this night she was finalizing her preparations for a trip into one of the outer realms.
Her objective was the realm of a Duke of Hell named Habernalle. She had met the Duke a few times prior, accompanying her tutor on trips through portal gates on fact finding and reagent gathering journeys. Each time one travelled the outer realms there were countless preparations to be made, and this time, her first solo trip, was no different. Wards had to be crafted, spells memorized and charms acquired. Even with the appropriate protections, to gain an audience with a demon lord required a trade, and Dayna had spent a small fortune getting her hands on a few artifacts of power to offer for the information she required.
As she sat at her desk jotting down a few final notes in her journal, her familiar scurried about, packing a small handcart with the various luggage and supplies needed for the journey. Gomp was a two and a half foot tall imp with dark red skin, tiny, leathery wings, nubby, inch long horns, a spade tipped tail and a propensity for sniffing the contents of Dayna’s laundry basket when he thought she wasn’t looking. She had summoned the depraved creature in her first year at the university and had bound him to her with a small diamond shaped tattoo on the lower left side of her neck. Being bound to a mage was an annoyance to demon-kind, but could only happen if the mage responsible was significantly more powerful than the demon. Furthermore, the demon’s free will was not limited except for a restriction on harming their summoner and the ability for the mage to warp the creature to their side at will. The result, for Dayna, was having command over a small bundle of leering, consistently lewd trouble. Between his refusal to wear clothes, his habit of smelling her underwear and groping her whenever he thought he could get away with it and trying to steal things from her fellow students, faculty and anyone who happened to be within range, the elven mage found the foul mouthed imp to be almost more trouble than he was worth. Still, the diminutive, horny creature had helped her out of a few tight spots (often in exchange for favours the elf would rather not talk about), and his few innate magical abilities came in rather useful for some of the more complex spells she had attempted.
“Alright boss. We’re good to go,” said Gomp as he pulled the supply laden cart to the edge of the portal circle etched into the ground in the centre of Dayna’s study. “How ‘bout dat reward you promised me?”
Dayna turned in her chair to see the imp rubbing his semi-erect cock while grinning lasciviously at her. “Fine,” she replied, turning back to the bestiary lying open on her desk, “but only a couple of minutes while I finish my reading and my shirt stays on.”
The imp chortled with glee as he scurried over to Dayna’s desk. “Dis is gonna be good!” he said as he clambered into her lap, his faintly sulfuric odour filling her nose and his demonic heat radiating through her trousers and warming the skin where he perched on her thighs.
The randy familiar flashed his pointed teeth in a lusty grin as he reached up with both hands to grope Dayna’s pert breasts, his small, clawed hands not quite able to fully envelop even her modest bosom. The elven mage tried ignore the frenzied efforts of the lust-driven imp, but couldn’t help glancing down from her book as he delivered a sharp pinch to each of her nipples, causing them to strain against the fabric of her tunic. The red skinned creature’s cock had swollen to a foot in length and Dayna could see clear, musky smelling pre-cum oozing from its engorged head.
“Off!” she shouted, tilting her legs to deposit Gomp unceremoniously onto the floor. “I don’t want that nasty stuff on my clothes!”
The imp grumbled as he picked himself up off the floor and shuffled around behind her chair, managing to look dejected even as his foot long erection bobbed along in front of him. “Fine, but I still get to play with dem titties while I jerk!” he said petulantly as he reached back around to squeeze her left breast with one hand once he was behind her.
Dayna sighed. “Whatever. I just better not find any of your disgusting jizz on my clothes when you’re done. And you’re cleaning it off the floor before we leave.”
“Yes ma’am,” said the imp, underscoring the last word with another firm pinch of Dayna’s nipple.
A few minutes later, Dayna stood in the centre of the portal circle, staff in hand, satchel over her shoulder and a fine, long dagger tucked into her boot. She’d checked the cart properly and had encased it in a basic protective ward - good enough to keep anyone not looking for it from noticing it was even there. Now she waited for Gomp as the tiny demon scrubbed the floor behind her chair with a soapy sponge. Once he was finished, he walked over to stand between the handles of the small cart and dragged it into the circle.
As Dayna began the portal incantation, her sewer-tongued familiar looked up at her and said “Dem boobies aren’t very big, but I still shoulda asked for a tittyfu-”
And then everything went black.
Traveling by portal is a disorienting experience, but Dayna was used to it. She was more worried about what might lie on the other side. If her calculations were off, she might end up embedded in a mountain, or transported to a realm where air doesn’t exist or, in the worst case, adrift in the void. She’d brought along spells to create a pocket of breathable air or a floating platform among various other helpful spells and thought she was well prepared, but when she and Gomp rematerialized what she really wished she’d done is put on her cloak before they left.
It was raining. Judging by the bleak, black, blue and purple rocks surrounding them and the twisted, leafless trees she could see in the distance, Dayna had gotten the location right. This was definitely Duke Habernalle’s realm. Despite the accuracy of her portal, however, Dayna wasn’t happy. The reason for her unhappiness was the translucent, thick, viscous slime that was pouring torrentially from the deep black clouds that covered the sky. It fell in fat, heavy drops and by the time she’d retrieved her dark grey waterproof cloak from the handcart Gomp was dragging, her hair was matted and her clothes clung soggily to her skin. She wiped away a goopy strand of the stuff as it dripped in a long string from her earlobe and quickly pulled her hood up.
Gomp, red skin shining wetly with the goo rain, was lying in a laughing, twitching heap between the handles of the cart. “Ha! And you said you didn’t want any of my sticky stuff on your clothes! Dat’s some fucking rich irony!” he sputtered out between guffaws of mirth.
“Shut up and follow me,” said Dayna as she felt another strand of the slime trickle under her tunic collar and begin oozing its way down her cleavage. “What the fuck is this shit?” she asked no-one in particular.
Habernalle was a Duke of Hell, a powerful entity (although not quite on par with a Prince of Hell), and his realm was suitably expansive. He’d gotten his power the same way every demon gained power; through the acquisition of souls. There was only one way a demon could acquire a soul. Some cultures, Dayna knew, counted various manners in which a soul could be lost - various sins like murder or theft tended to rank among them, but it all really boiled down to one thing; desire. If you wanted something badly enough and a demon could offer it, you were in trouble. Vengeance, sex, wealth, power, or simply for the pain to end - there were many wants, many avenues for a demon to get to you, but they all revolved around that central tenet of desire.
Dayna was pondering on the nature of demons and focusing on maintaining her wards as she and Gomp trudged down the scree covered hillside where they’d materialized and on towards the leafless forest. The elf knew where she was going, having been to Habernalle’s realm before and so wasn’t paying too much attention to the passing scenery as they entered the woods.
“Perhaps you require a guide, fair creature?” said a melodious baritone voice.
Dayna was startled, but tried to hide it as she looked around at the trees for the source of the voice.
“Raise your eyes, sweet lass,” said an equally musical although higher pitched voice.
Peering upwards while trying to keep the slime rain out of her eyes, the elven mage saw two demons, an incubus and a succubus by the looks of them, sitting on a thick branch that hung above the forest path. Both had completely black skin and were totally hairless. Their nude forms were covered by the gooey rain, but instead of making them bedraggled as Dayna was sure she looked, the transparent slime made them shine, the faint light of the realm reflecting brightly off their midnight skin, etching outlines of chiseled muscles and rounded curves.
The baritone voice belonged to a lean, muscled demon, his well defined abs and slab-like pecs rippling, bunching and stretching as he hopped down from his perch. The immense, black feathered wings on his back spread to slow his descent as he neared the ground and then folded up neatly behind him as he came to stand before Dayna. The mage couldn’t help but notice the smooth, hefty penis that hung flaccid between his toned thighs. Landing next to him was a form that could have been his female twin - equally well muscled, but with large, round breasts high on her chest that jiggled slightly as she landed, an hourglass waist and smooth mons instead of a cock. Neither had a single strand of hair on their statuesque bodies, and both had fine featured, noble faces. Their eyes glowed a deep russet orange, their gaze was piercing.
“I know the way, thank you,” said Dayna, politely trying not to stare at the chiseled incubus.
“Damn! You got nice titties!” said Gomp as he lewdly gawked at the lush succubus.
The pair let out a rich, warm peal of laughter.
“Where are you bound?” asked the woman.
“I seek an audience with Habernalle,” replied Dayna, starting to walk around the two demons.
“Truly?” said the incubus, “You have a long journey ahead, you should rest a while with my sister Keira and me before you continue on your way.”
“My brother Keiran and I can be very pleasant company,” said the succubus.
“I’m sure,” murmured Dayna, “but I really must get moving. I’m afraid I won’t be such charming company.”
The two demons spread their wings once more and flapped them in a short, controlled motion that kept them upright and flying backwards, just ahead of Dayna as she walked along the path.
“It’s such a long way to Habernalle’s throne. Perhaps I could carry you?” said the very masculine Keiran.
Keira fluttered in front of her brother and turned towards him. She traced her fingers across his glistening pecs as she looked over her shoulder back at Dayna, “He’s so strong. I’m sure he can carry you easily, and flying is so much faster and more fun than boring old walking.”
“Thank you, again, but no thanks,” said Dayna.
“Hey, sugar tits, you can carry me!” said Gomp.
While they laughed at the imp’s lewd interjection, Keira folded her wings in and Keiran reached his arm around her waist. The incubus kept the demonic pair aloft with strong beats of his wings while holding his sister against him with one arm. The succubus stretched her right arm over his shoulders, behind his neck, pressing her large right breast, shiny with the slime raining from the sky, against the left side of her brother’s chest.
Pouting, she looked at her brother, then back at Dayna and said, “It seems the elf is boring and doesn’t want to play, brother dearest.”
“It matters not, sister mine, mayhap we can amuse ourselves while we watch this boring elf get into trouble,” said Keiran before before leaning in to bite his sister’s earlobe gently.
Keira moaned loudly, a rich, throaty sound, as her brother nibbled her ear and she turned her head to kiss him deeply. As she did so, she stopped tracing her fingers over the incubus’ impressive pecs and slowly moved her left hand downwards, grazing her nails over his washboard abs until her hand came to the base of her brother’s cock. Delicately, the succubus ran her fingertips along the length of Keiran’s penis. Dayna could see it twitch under her caress as blood pumped into it and the weighty tool grew erect. The mage’s quim tingled as a tickle of arousal grew within her.
“Fuck yes!” said Gomp, “I think we’re gonna get a show!”
Dayna’s familiar openly started stroking himself, coiling his spaded tail around the handle where his hand used to be so he could keep dragging the cart as he masturbated.
“This rain makes a fucking fine lube, boss,” said the horny imp, left hand pumping his shaft, eyes glued to the scene the two hovering demons were making.
“Mmmmm, it does, doesn’t it,” moaned Keira, as she wrapped her fingers around Keiran’s cock and began working it to full hardness with short tugs of her hand.
Under the skillful ministrations of his sister’s hand, the male demon’s hefty penis was soon tumescent, swelling up to a truly immense size. Dayna felt a hot flush creep across her body, despite the steady beating of the cool, slimy rain. Her right hand was holding her staff as she walked, but hidden under her cloak her left hand migrated up under the fringe of her tunic and then down under the waistband of her hose until she found the warm dampness of her aroused pussy. Slowly she brushed her fingers across her labia and tried not to moan.
Once the the incubus’ meaty phallus was properly stiff, the rain greased succubus turned in his arms to wrap her legs around his hips. Keiran slipped his arms under her raised legs to grip her ass, a large round cheek in each hand, as he lifted her up and pressed his sister’s nude body to his chest. With one arm wrapped around her brother’s neck, Keira reached down with the other to grasp his cock once more and guide it into her needy pussy as he lowered her onto it.
As the turgid, slick member slowly entered her, the succubus let out a low, breathy moan and whispered, “Oh, sweet brother mine!”
From her vantage point trailing behind and below the copulating pair, Dayna could see the succubus’ labia stretched wide as her brother’s engorged organ slid into it. The elven mage’s clit grew hard she watched the incubus languidly begin to thrust his hips upwards between his sister’s spread thighs, the impacts causing the female demon’s glorious buttocks to ripple and shake. Both demons were covered in the slimy rain, their pitch black skin was oily with the strange precipitation, and it dripped off the mating siblings in long ropey strands.
Keiran beat his wings slowly, just fast enough to keep ahead of Dayna as she made her way through the forest. Both he and his sister looked down at the elf with their glowing orange eyes as their skin slapped wetly together to the rhythm of their passionate rutting.
“Do you think she’s wishing she’d chosen to join us, dear sister?” said Keiran as he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts, his balls swinging heavily beneath his sister’s spread asscheeks.
Keira arched her back, thrusting her heaving bosom into her brother’s face, all the while maintaining eye contact with the elven mage below her.
“I think I see some envy in those eyes, my love,” replied the succubus as she mashed her oily, voluptuous form against her brother’s corded muscles.
Dayna was both envious and frustrated. The wanton display above her was driving her wild with lust and she knew she wouldn’t be able to get off from surreptitiously frigging herself beneath her cloak as she walked. Trying to take her mind off the lewd scene, she glanced around at her surroundings, her eyes quickly skipping over the sight of Gomp pulling the cart beside her, stroking his oversized, lube slicked appendage while lustily watching the two fornicating demons above him. The trees around them were thinning out, and Dayna figured they were nearing the edge of the woods. If she recalled correctly they’d have to cross a stretch of open plain before they reached the gates of Habernalle’s bastion.
Sure enough, the leafless forest soon gave way to an open plain that rolled off into the dark grey fog that shrouded the distant horizon. The gently undulating landscape was covered with a carpet of strange dark red grass with blades about two feet in length. Looming far ahead of the strange party was a massive, craggy fortress. Dayna estimated it was about four hours away and wondered if she would be escorted the whole distance by the vigorously mating demon siblings. The overripe aura of lust they exuded was getting to her and the mage worried that she’d have to stop and finger herself to orgasm before much longer and she definitely didn’t want to do that in front of the two demons.
Beside her, Gomp grunted loudly as he jerked himself to orgasm. His fountain of ejaculate elicited a debaucherous coo from Keira followed by another peal of rich laughter from the demon couple as they slowly circled as they fucked, just above the heads of the two travellers on foot. The incubus kept pumping his cock in and out of his sister’s dripping quim as they lazily flew through the air like a pair of pornographic vultures.
Hours passed and the imposing bastion in the distance grew larger as the party drew closer to it. The elf fought to keep the burning desire inside her under control. Dayna’s hope that her rutting demon escort would grow bored and leave them remained unfulfilled. The incubus’ stamina was supernatural, of course, and the siblings kept pace, languidly fucking each other as they hovered just above the elf and the imp. The horny little Gomp clearly loved the show the two demons were putting on and happily masturbated again and again, spilling his ejaculate on the slate slabs that paved their path towards the castle. It was only when the guards at the gate monolithic gatehouse to the Duke of Hell’s keep became clearly visible that the airborne sex addicts seemed to decide it was time to finish up.
Putting lips against her brother’s ear while they hovered just in front of the sexually frustrated elven mage, the succubus said, in a whisper loud enough that Dayna was clearly meant to hear, “Fill me now, sweet brother. Pour your seed into me.”
“Mmmm,” came the incubus’ melodious baritone voice in reply, “how could a dutiful brother say no to any request from such a sweet, caring sister?”
The male demon’s neck muscles strained against his skin and he moaned loudly. Dayna couldn’t help but watch as his smooth, weighty balls grew taut and a flood of pearly white cum overflowed from the succubus’ well fucked cunt as her brother’s cock ejaculated into it. It fell in heavy, wet dollops from her stretched quim to splatter and mingle with the sheen of slime rain that coated the ground. The demon extended her wings and parted from her brother’s embrace to alight in front of the iron portcullis in the middle of the gatehouse. On either side of the imposing entrance, a pair of guards lounged against the stone work, watching the party’s progress towards the gatehouse. Dayna could see they were beastmen; strange amalgams of goat and human and a type of lesser demon often used as foot soldiers by demon lords. Their goat like faces were split into leering grins as they watched the succubus dip a finger into her cum-oozing pussy and then lick the jizz-covered digit clean.
Dayna’s cunt was on fire. The hours she’d spent walking behind the passionately copulating pair of demons had left her yearning for release. Trying to maintain her composure, she walked over to one of the beastmen standing by the keep gates. As she approached her nose filled with an earthy, cloying odour that radiated off the shaggy demon soldiers. The guard closest to her was at least seven feet tall, possessing a bestial, goat like visage atop a humanoid, almost comically muscled chest. Where his torso met his legs, the lesser demon’s body became bestial once more - his digitigrade legs were covered in a shaggy coat of brown fur and he stood on pair of cloven hooves instead of feet. Between his legs swung a girthy, goat-like cock, glistening pink and tapering to a fine point. Behind his inhuman phallus hung a massive pair of fur covered balls. All four of the demonic guards had a distinct lack of armour and clothes but gripped wicked looking halberds as they stood watch.
The strange creature nonchalantly scratched his hairy sack and sneered at Dayna as she walked up to him.
“Whaaat do you waaant?” he asked in a bleating voice.
“I need to speak with Duke Habernalle,” explained Dayna.
On her previous visits, accompanying her tutor, they’d had to pay for entry - a magical trinket or the like would suffice for the entry tax. Dayna reached into her satchel to produce seance crystal and offered it to the guard.
“I have an item to trade for passage.”
“Too baaad, elf,” said the goat-man, “Haaabernaaalle haaas saaaid no visitors.”
The mage sighed in frustration. This was shaping up to be an irksome encounter. She pulled an onyx ring from her satchel and added it to the offering for the guard. The beast reached out with a very human hand to take the trinkets from Dayna and held them up for examination.
“Hmmmm. Maaagicaaal. Not baaad,” bleated the guard.
By now the other three beastmen had gathered round to observe the negotiations. One was quite similar to the guard she was currently conversing with, but with black fur instead of brown. The other two were clearly female - they lacked the male genitalia of their comrades and each had an impressive set of mammaries hanging from their muscled torsos. One had reddish brown fur while the other had grey fur that was streaked with white and black vertical bands. The two females were also bigger by half a foot than the male guards and seemed to carry themselves with some authority over their smaller brethren, as demonstrated when the grey furred demon reached out and snatched the two magic trinkets from the hand of the male as he examined them.
“Mine!” said the imposing beastwoman and glowered at the smaller male as if challenging him to do anything about the theft. Keeping the ring for herself, she handed the crystal to her female comrade.
“Aaaah! Pretty!” said the russet furred guard as she held the crystal up in the gloomy light.
“Well,” said Dayna, trying to move past the two male guards, “I see we have a deal. I’ll just go on in then.”
Her progress was halted when the black furred beastman slapped his ham like palm against her chest.
“Not so faaast,” he said. “They got theirs. We waaant ours.”
A leery grin smeared itself across his face and Dayna felt the restraining hand on her chest curve to cup her perky breast through her tunic, calloused thumb rubbing across her erect nipple. Her pussy tingled again with unwarranted lust while her stomach fluttered with nervousness.
Behind her she could hear Gomp snickering gleefully.
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