Downfall of the Empress

by Amanda Clover

The wulfen laughed, its nature halfway between a bark and human mirth. “So easy, human slut! Are you really empress? Or just bitch?”

  “I… I… nnnnn!” The answer eluded her. She didn’t know. She only knew she loved this. Loved the sensation of the beast’s mighty cock inside her. A pillar spearing her to the very core as she continued to bounce on him. As his claws continued to maul and massage her tender breasts. Her pussy so wet it was fairly drooling.

  The world was mad. Insane. Nothing was making sense. Nothing but the sensations of pleasure overwhelming her. Her sanity. She kept stroking herself, her finger slick as she rubbed her tender clit towards her next peak. Her next pleasured high.

  The beast wasn’t far behind. His breathing was ragged. His tongue lolled from his maw and his yellow eyes glowed with the intensity of his pleasure. His hips pounded her ass, beating her to a mush of pleasured moans and whimpering cries.

  “Gonna cum… gonna cum. Gonna… Hrrrroooooo!”

  The wulfen threw back his head, howling, his cry dwarfing Damera’s as the beast came within her, his boiling seed pulsing into her tight bottom, lubing her. She screamed with ecstasy as she hit her peak, her body a slave to the pleasure. One that only proved more intense as the monster’s knot swelled, sealing his cock and seed within her, stretching her already straining bottom even further. The tension felt so wonderful. So good. She could only whimper, weak, helpless. She collapsed against him, panting, her hair tumbling around her face in sweat matted locks.

  The wulfen held her. Possessive. She could feel his claws resting against her pale arms, his maw an inch from her head. “When knot gone,” the beast growled. “I take pussy.”

  A tremor rocked the empress. She knew what that would mean. How could she not? To let the monster cum within her would claim her. Destroy all she was, make her the monster’s brood mother. A slave to his pleasure, her mons branded with the eye of the Duke of Ashes. The curse.

  And yet, the prospect did not horrify her. The tremor that rocked her, spreading from the tainted wound in her side was one of eager anticipation. Of panting desire. The thought of becoming this monster’s thrall. His eager breeding bitch stirred her in ways she couldn’t define yet yearned for in quivering need. Even as she delighted in the sense of fullness of the monster’s knot within her she couldn’t wait for his red cock to thrust into her cunt. To claim her as his own, brand her, fill her with his pups.

  “Yes,” she breathed, looking up into the monster’s face. “N-need c-cock.”

  The wulfen grinned broadly. He reached down, squeezing again her fat breast, making her moan and whimper with eager anticipation. By the time his knot began to loosen, she was once more a panting mess. She lifted her ass from his cock, his seed drooling from her gaping bottom. On hands and knees, she turned about, raised her ass like a bitch and heat, and begged.

  “Please,” she panted. “Please, f-fuck me. Breed your bitch. She needs it. She needs your cum in her so bad.”

  The clank of chains sent her shaking with anticipation. The feel of the monster behind her. The warmth of his body. The heavy sound of his panting. She whimpered as his clawed hands grasped her ass, pulled her back, her legs parting to reveal the blushing lips of her hot cunt.

  The wulfen growled, and thrust!

  She screamed. Screamed in overwhelming ecstasy. In pleasure that dwarfed the meager sensation of his reaming of her plush bottom. If felt so good. So wonderful! “Yesss!” she screamed as the monster began to thrust. His hips spanking her ass red, his crimson cock filling her searing depth.

  “Yessss!” she screamed. “Yes! Fuck me! Fuck your bitch! Oh gods. Gods yes! Breed me! Breed my cunt! Fill me! Yes! Yesssss!”

  She was panting. Moaning. The world was spinning around her. The wulfen’s grip on her was tight. His cock plunged into her sopping cunt. The sound of their fucking overwhelmed her. The sensation blinded her. The wound in her side throbbed, her breasts swaying beneath her.

  She was lost. Only this pleasure existed. Only this endless cascade of wonderous orgasm. Of cumming. Of reaching heights she never dreamed. Not with the king of Heimsvak had she know such delight. Not under the corrupting touch of a succubus. The ruthless caress of the swamp creature summoned up by the Duke. She didn’t want it to end. Never. Never. She wanted this forever.

  Noise. Noise. Voices. Pleasure. Fucking. Hands on her. Touching her. She heard a howl. She drew herself up on the cock. He was so close. She could feel the throbbing of his shaft.

  And she was ripped off his cock.

  “Noooooo!” she cried, screaming and struggling. Cruel hands grabbed her, pulling her away. Shadows danced. Voices bellowed. She writhed and twisted, reaching for the monster’s cock. Desperate.

  Pain burst on her cheek. On the other. Her head was ringing.

  Freezing water crashed over her. Damera gasped, the heat in her extinguished by the shock.

  The world reaffirmed itself. She looked up blearily. Ander crouched over her, an empty bucket in his hands. The guards from the door stood at his sides, staring down at her in shock.

  “What… what happened?”

  “Empress,” Ander said. “What were you doing!”

  Damera blinked. The events rushed in. Her eyes widened; her mouth parted in horrified shock. “Oh gods,” she gasped. She grabbed her forehead, her head throbbing with pain and realization of what she had nearly done. Her body still yearned for the caress of his cock. She could feel his foul seed stuffing her ass. Tingling on her tongue. “Oh gods above!”

  “Empress, what happened in there? What was going on?” Ander asked frantically.

  Damera shut her eyes tight, her breathing coming in ragged gasps. Her body was tender. Aching with the pleasured throes experienced. She still felt the wulfen’s cum inside of her, the memories of what it had felt for his knot to swell within her, how he had fucked her. Filled her.

  Her wound sent a sudden stab of pain through her. She gasped, covered her side. She grit her teeth.

  “A trap…”

  “My empress?”

  Damera shook herself, thinking fast. “A trap,” she said. “The wulfen was a trap sent to catch me. Cursed. The creature was cursed to try and force me to breed with it.”

  Ander sucked in a breath. “Oh gods. Empress, I… Forgive me. I never would have dreamed…”

  “No matter,” she gasped, forcing herself up, using the wall to lever herself to her feet. She shook her head again. Ander quickly took off his mottled cloak and offered it to her. She nodded, wrapping the cloth around herself, masking her nudity from the men. “This must not leave this dungeon,” she told the trio. “None must know.”

  “Of course,” Ander said at once. “But, my empress. What shall be done with the prisoner?”

  Her wound pulsed. Damera grit her teeth. There was no question what must be done. “Kill it.”

  The Assault

  The tall walls of Kirinovo burned with the light of torches. Priests and priestesses moved along the battlements, their low intonations and prayers droning through the dark. Incense burners swung in their hands, blessing the walls and the frightened faces which stood atop them. Soldiers were interspersed here and there, their hard discipline starkly at odds with the tense fright of the citizenry. For a nightmare they had never thought had come up from the darkness, and now they had to face it.

  And yet, Damera was encouraged by the way the townsfolk gripped their makeshift weapons in white knuckled hands. The grim desperation which marked their faces. They knew what was at stake. They knew what was to come should the walls fail and the monsters surge into their town. Torchlight glimmered on spears, sword and sickle as if awash with blood.

  From within the city the temple bells rang out long and slow.

  Midnight.

  The woods stirred, whispered. Darkness flowed into the plains. Long ago the forest had been cut back, and through untilled fields the monster horde crept. Eyes glittered in the dark. Fang and claw shone. Shapes of horror and evil stalked through
abandoned farm and homes, drawing near.

  The dark tide came in, surrounding Kirinovo. Hands gripped weapons harder. Eyes squinted down.

  “Hold!” a firm command rang out across the walls as sergeants moved among their troops. “Fit arrows!”

  Bowstrings creaked as arrows were drawn, raised.

  “Fire!”

  Arrows hissed through the air, plunging into the horde. Monsters brayed and howled as the arrows found their marks, and the horde rushed forward.

  Screams split the sky as harpies and demons rode the winds, sweeping down like angels of death onto the walls. Spears rose, warding the monsters off. Screams of pain and rage rent the night. In the distraction, several creatures reached the walls, clambering up them with inhuman grace and speed. A man screamed as a wulfen grabbed him, wrenched him off the parapets and hurled him into the void before four spears plunged into the monster’s body, sending him tumbling down. But there were more. So many more.

  “Fight on!” Walter bellowed from his place on the walls. Flanking him were the flags of the empire, their crimson banners snapping in the wind. The burly warrior filled his armour, his sword drawn. At his sides priests murmured and soldiers stood guard. “Fight! Beat these creatures back! Do not let them into the walls! Fight you dogs! Fight for your city! Fight for your race! Fight for your empress!”

  The command rang through the air. Soldiers shouted in defiance of the dark and fought back with greater force.

  The sounds of battle rang through the narrow streets. In a small inn, down in the basement among casks of ale and wine the noise could barely be heard. Laya glanced up, but shook her head. The young barmaid took a deep breath and pulled aside her nightgown, baring her naked curves. Crimson markings had been painted on her pale flesh, circling about pert, firm nipples. Nervously, she grasped the sheet before her, wrenching it free.

  The fabric fell away, revealing the massive mirror. Gilt decorated its surface, the surface smoky and dark. Laya smiled and raised her arms, pushing out her youthful breasts and wet pussy.

  “Mistress,” the young barmaid moaned. “Your slave has done it! She begs your presence. Come to her!”

  The mists of the mirror swirled. Light bled from within. A sickly green glow that washed over the young woman. She gasped, nipples hardening, her head thrown back as she soaked in the dark magic radiating from the mirror.

  The surface rippled, and a figure stepped out.

  The Red Witch was a sight to behold. Naked, proud, her curves seemed to glow in the crimson magic that crackled across her skin, stirring her red hair as if plucked by fingers of raw power. Curvaceous and busty, a figure of sensual pleasure and raw danger like a tiger, she smiled down at the young woman before her.

  “Good work, Laya.”

  The young barmaid fell to her knees, gazing in rapt adoration at her mistress. “Oh thank you,” she whimpered in delight.

  The mirror shimmered again and a short, stunted shape beat through on small wings. The imp settled on the witch’s shoulder, a derby hat cocked atop his head, his dipropionate cock hanging between his thighs. The imp smirked, flicking his finger, a cigar coiling from dark smoke before being popped into his waiting mouth. The imp grinned around it. “Lookin’ good. See? What’d I tell you? The mirror worked like a dream.”

  “Quiet Lugin.”

  “Yes’m.”

  The Red Witch cackled and stepped aside, and through the mirror stepped the hulking bulk of an orc. Several more followed, the massive green skinned monsters filling the space quickly, their crude armour clanking, their muscled frames fairly quivering in their eagerness to spill the blood of men.

  The Red Witch smirked at the bestial warriors. “Let’s begin.”

  “Mistress,” Laya whimpered, pawing at the Red Witch’s leg. “Please. You promised…”

  The sorceress laughed. “So I did, didn’t I? I promised you a place as a thrall of the monsters. Alright. You.” The Red Witch beckoned one of the orcish warriors. “Give this slut what she’s always wanted.”

  The orc grinned as it left its fellows, advancing on the young woman. Eagerly Laya pushed her back against the wall, parting her legs to bare her slick cunny. She looked longingly up at the orc, her finger playing with her slick cunt.

  “Oh master,” she moaned. “Please. Make me yours. I… I want your cock so bad. I want to be your breeding bitch so much. I’m so tired of pathetic human cocks. I need yours. Please. Please, fuck this bitch.”

  The orc’s eyes burned at her words. He yanked aside his loincloth, baring the thick pillar of his inhuman cock. Laya’s breathing deepened, her fingers stroked her pussy faster. Faster.

  The orc kneeled before her, grabbed her hips and yanked her onto his lap. She gasped, her plush breasts mashing against the iron of his chest. Moaned hotly as his thick cock pressed against her cunt, and thrust.

  “Yesssss!” Laya screamed as the orc’s cock filled her. She’d been practicing for so long. Waiting for this moment. Stretching herself for the time when she would at last be bred by monster cock. “Ohhhh yesss! Master! Oh fuck yes! Yes! Fuck me! Mnnnnn!”

  She bounced on his lap, his hips hammering into her, her breasts rubbing against the orc’s chest. Pleasure surged through her from head to toe. This was it. This was what she’d wanted for so agonizingly long.

  “Oh gods!” Laya cried out, throwing back her head, keening with pleasure as she rode the orc’s plunging cock. “Yes. Yes! Oh gods! Gods yes! Fuck me! Breed me! Breed my human pussy! I want it so bad! Oh fuck yes! Yes! Mnnnnnn!”

  Laya screamed with ecstasy as she came, shuddering with her climax around the pounding cock of the orc. She kept bouncing on his cock, taking the thickness of him. The glorious length of his inhuman shaft. All that she had dreamed of was happening. Was taking her.

  The other orc warriors laughed at her eager submission. Her betrayal. Yes. Yes, she had damned her city. Her people. Her race to doom. All for this. All to be taken by a monster’s cock. To be claimed and bred as their unholy brood mother. The thought of it sent her to new heights, and with another scream she came again.

  As her pussy tightened around the shaft of the orc, he gave a great bellow of pleasure. He hilted within her, his grip bruising her soft hips, and he came. “Yesssss!” Laya cried as she felt his hot spunk pump into her, claiming her, breeding her helpless womb. Her cry rose higher still as she felt the glorious wave of submission pass through her, as the mark of the eye burned itself above her mons, pulsing red as the unholy sorcery took hold of her.

  Lugin sighed and stroked his crimson cock. “Mnn. You know, no matter how many times I see it, it always does my black heart good to see a slut get claimed by her master.”

  The Red Witch smirked at the sight. “Come on, boys,” she said, turning her back on Laya as the waitress continued to bounce on the orc’s fat cock. “We’ve got a city to claim. And don’t worry,” she added with a toss of her crimson hair. “There’ll be plenty of sluts for the rest of you.”

  The orcs roared in agreement and surged after her. With a wave of her hand the Red Witch shattered the main door of the tavern. Out flowed the orcish warband and into the heart of Kirinovo. The wall had fallen.

  And no one even knew it yet.

  A Desperate Defense

  Thunder rumbled in the distance, but no rain fell. The muggy air made Damera even more acutely aware of just how tight her armour was and how her silk shirt beneath rubbed against her nipples.

  She winced in annoyance. Ever since the incident in the dungeon hot desire had been the order of the day, radiating from her aching wound, urging her to touch herself. Fondle herself. She’d been forced to have her armour refitted. Her breasts had become larger. Heavier, but no less firm. She was worried. Worried what the cursed wound was doing to her.

  But she suspected she knew. Suspected that the accursed injury was somehow influencing her body. Attempting to turn her into a fat breasted brood mother. A creature to inflame the lusts of monsters.

 
And worst of all, she found the idea appealing.

  Not willingly. But every time she thought of her large naked breasts. Her silken pussy. Her panting, moaning form, images would arise in her mind. She’d finger herself, picturing stunted gertlings rutting into her cunt, fucking her while she sucked on their cocks and they milked her bouncing tits. Of being on her hands and knees, crying out in helpless pleasure as a centaur mounted her, pounding her sopping cunt with his impossibly huge cock, breeding her like a mare. Of minotaur’s and their bestial shafts and she kneeling before them, sucking off their immense manhood, her milky breasts pressed around their massive cocks as she brought them to climax.

  She put a hand to her helmeted head, wincing as she felt her headache coming back on. Gods. Her body was on fire. She could practically feel the monsters beyond the wall, baying for her. Wanting her. Eager to make her kneel before them and fuck her before the eyes of her watching army. She wished the thought didn’t turn her on so. She dearly wished it didn’t.

  “Empress!”

  She jerked her head back up. A rider pounded through the open court of the palace and before her. He threw a hasty salute.

  “My lady! Orcs are within the city! They’re attacking the townsfolk and making straight for the gate!”

  Damera scowled. She’d feared as much. Sallowmarsh had shown her just how insidious the monsters could be, corrupting or infiltrating cities in order to prepare for the inevitable assault. She drew her sword, the jewel of the last kingdom burning in its hilt, the dark stone flashing in the torchlight. “Right! Riders, we go! Support the gate. Crush the brutes! Defend your city!”

  A roar went up from the waiting knights. Men she’d kept in reserve to support any part of the walls that weakened during the siege. She had to be quick about it. It was inevitable that parts of the walls would start to crumble under the monster’s assault. They had to push them back.

  “With me!” she cried, swinging forward her blade. “Charge!”

  The palace gates were open. Thunder rumbled overhead, echoed in the beating hoofs as the riders streamed from the courtyard and into the cramped city streets. Darkened houses flashed by. The frightened faces of women, the old and infirm glanced out. Those who could not man the walls. Those whose lives depended on her success. She couldn’t fail. She mustn’t fail.