by Rowan Bree
The creature’s cock pulses and you brace for the feeling of its cum pumping inside you. Instead, you feel more rhythmic pulses and then an odd heavy feeling like a weight has been placed inside you. Then another, and another. Eggs, you think with horror as the spider-goblin’s ovipositor slides out of you.
The next thing you feel is another appendage pushing its way between your legs. This one has a more bulbous, tapered tip that slides into you with little resistance. Your body quivers uncontrollably as you feel the orbs shift inside you to make room for the new violation. The creature thrusts hard and fast, and instinctively you know what is happening. It is going to fertilize the eggs it just filled you with. And there is nothing you can do.
You come as the creature fucks you, silent tears streaming down your face from the intensity. Everything below the waist feels warm, sticky, melted. The spider-goblin finishes and leaves you with its fertilized eggs sitting inside you. The paralyzing poison overwhelms your senses making your vision blur. You feel sleepy.
A man appears in the doorway. Thank the gods, you think, trying to form your mouth into the right shape to ask for help.
The man looks like he is melting. No, changing. You watch in horror as his human body morphs into that of a dog. It pads over to you, its nails clicking against the stones. You feel its wet snout against your butt cheeks as it licks at the spider-goblin’s slime. You try to move but your body is still paralyzed. The shapeshifter’s cock slips between your legs bumping the eggs that are already inside you.
The creature tries to push in further against the resistance of your body. You can feel your stomach bulging where it can go no further, and then an odd feeling of pressure as its cock slips against something deep inside of you. The feeling sends tingles through your body like nothing you’ve ever felt before.
The shapeshifter moves its hips the same way again, the tip of its cock brushing against that deeper part of you and making the pressure build more. You are paralyzed, pregnant, and being used by a monster. How can such a lewd act feel so good?
You pant and moan like an animal as the shapeshifter moves on top of you. Your body is covered in sweat and you can feel the delicious building, building, building of pressure and then your body is tingling all over, vibrating as it never has before. You feel release from your head to your toes, coming in waves and patterns through your nerves. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this before.
As the vibrations settle you feel a bulge at the base of the shapeshifter’s cock push inside you. He tries to pull away once, but is stuck.
You wait there in the dark, too scared to try and move though you can feel the paralyzing poison slowly wearing off. Every time you shift even the slightest bit you feel a small aftershock of your deep orgasm.
Time passes…
The faun finds you with the shapeshifter still knotted inside you. He stands in the doorway, taking in the depraved scene.
“You are quick to embrace the darkness, aren’t you?” he taunts you.
You feel a tugging and a pop as the shapeshifter pulls out, followed by a warm flow of liquid from inside you. Free, the creature scampers away down the hall.
“Are those eggs I sense?”
He kneels beside you and spreads your legs to have a look. He chuckles.
“You’ve been busy. But we’ll need to get these out of you.”
He has you sit up with your legs spread and knees bent to your chest. He spreads your lips with one hand and presses firmly below your navel with the other. You can feel one of the eggs pushing its way out. It pops free and tumbles to the floor. You feel a mini orgasm from the release and your cheeks burn with shame.
The faun pushes again. This time you can’t control yourself and the remaining eggs fall out of you one after the other, your body overwhelmed with pleasure. You sit there panting for a moment, eyes closed, not willing to look down at the creature’s un-hatched spawn.
“It’s time,” the faun says. “We must bring the world to heel.”
He takes you into the upper reaches of the castle until you arrive at a stone archway draped with black curtains. Beyond it is a room filled with robed figures, along with some guests from the feast in their fine clothes. Red candles are placed on different surfaces and in sconces. Many of the nobles are in various states of undress, occupying themselves with the shackled slaves both human and demonic that are apparently here for their entertainment.
Your gaze falls on the king seated in a plush chair, a buxom woman bobbing her head between his legs. Beside him are several uncomfortable-looking guardsmen.
“Kitten,” Vale says extracting himself from a couple of scantily clad slaves. The fingertips of his leather gloves glisten in the candlelight.
“And who is this?” the mage asks.
The faun changes back into his true form. The goat-horned demon towers over the party’s guests.
“My lord.” Vale bows on one knee before the hoofed feet of the Old One. The Old One strokes his hair and then beckons him to stand.
“I thank you for your service,” the Old One says, “of inviting me into your realm. Your duties have been fulfilled.”
Vale looks confused. “I have a kingdom to run.”
The Old One laughs. “Can you not feel it? This little kitten is no longer yours. She is mine, and she possesses my power. She will rule.”
Vale’s eyes flash red. “No, she didn’t even want to be a part of this. I forced her to complete the ritual. I bound her here with my magic. She cares nothing for this new world I’ve created. I will be its master.”
He shouts something in Dorian and the guests clear to the edges of the room, revealing a large circular symbol carved in the stone floor right below where you and the Old One are standing. It must be a binding circle. The Old One is trapped.
“Take his dagger,” the Old One tells you. “Strike it into the stones and free me.”
Vale steps backwards out of the circle watching you closely.
“It’s over, kitten,” he says. “I’ve won.”
Attack Vale for his dagger.
Run.
You beg the naga to spare Hawke.
She laughs. “You are foolish to put your faith in men. But you are only human. May the day come that you regret your choice.”
She flicks the fin of her serpentine tail across your face, leaving a thin cut on your cheek. Then she slithers away, disappearing through a doorway at the end of the hall. You hear a faint splash not too long after.
You climb back up to the deck to find it covered in salt and an odd jellylike substance. Hawke’s pants are soggy up to the knees as well, and he looks a bit shaken.
You ask him what happened.
Instead of answering right away he asks if you are okay, cupping your face and running a thumb below the cut the naga gave you.
You tell him you are and repeat your question.
“Sea slimes,” he says. “More of a pest than anything, but I’ve never seen them around Tyven. And most definitely not this close to shore. Did you find the men?”
You nod. “They’re alive, but they were attacked.” You tell him about the infernal naga you encountered and what she said about the men, leaving out the more intimate details.
Hawke shakes his head. “It was the trick of the naga. She must have possessed them to act in such a way. On my honor they were good men. The sea tribes don’t abide brutes like the men of the land.”
Hawke helps you up and off the ship. The docks are still abandoned, even after all your screaming.
You ask what will happen to his men.
He replies, “We don’t have the resources to help them back home, and I can’t sail this ship alone. We will need something smaller.”
He goes to examine a small fishing boat. “I’ll leave a note for this boat’s owner to find. Allow me this boat and find care for my men in exchange for my ship. It’s more than a generous trade, and I’ll write where to send word if
my men ever recover.”
You are amazed as ever by the sea chief’s kindness and presence of mind. If anyone is going to survive this new, terrible world it’s going to be him.
Hawke grasps your arm as you climb onto the boat. He moves around expertly preparing to cast off. You sit down on a wooden crate, exhausted and apprehensive about what lies ahead.
Dawn is just breaking over the horizon as you awaken. Hawke is sitting at the bow. He must not have slept. You go to him.
“We’ll stop at shore soon,” he says staring out to the sea. The sunrise bathes his tan skin in a soft pink. His muscled shoulders ripple as he adjusts his posture.
Drape your arms around his shoulders.
Offer to take his place so he can rest.
You tell the naga you don’t care what happens to Hawke.
She smiles. “Then you will not miss him where we are going.”
She wraps her arms around you, coiling you in her grip. You can smell the sea on her—a cold, dead smell that suddenly makes you very afraid. She slithers up the ladder and out onto the deck. Hawke shouts when he sees you but the naga leaps off the ship before he can do anything.
The cold water hits you like a brick and the wind is knocked from your lungs. You struggle to hold your breath, but the naga only coils tighter squeezing what little air is left out of your lungs. She writhes against you as she dives deeper, maddeningly teasing you. Your arousal builds as your brain loses oxygen. You fight to break free from her python grip, but you are surrounded by coils of pure muscle. After everything, is this how you are going to die? The cold starts to spread to your bones, your heart. Only one place is still warm between your legs. You open your mouth as you come, your lungs filling with water. The salty taste of the sea is the last thing you know.
Epilogue.
You make a run for it, not yet willing to surrender yourself to the evil that has consumed Tyven. Surely there are safe places. Your fate is not sealed.
You glance back but do not see the demon pursuing you. Maybe he does not need to, or maybe you have a chance.
But where will you run to?
If you keep going straight you will start to climb the mountains. If you veer westwards you will enter a deep, ancient forest much more wild than the one you came to Tyven from.
Keep straight.
Go west.
You wait until the demon has finished watching the skies, then surrender yourself.
He seems pleased. “Perhaps you are not so foolish as I thought.”
He takes you by the hand and leads you back into the castle. You bow your head, defeated and hoping he will show you mercy.
The castle.
You keep your course straight ahead to the north, following a narrow footpath leading up into the mountains. Soon you are out of breath, the climb steep and your heavy dress not suited for such physical activity.
You will soon need to find a safe place to rest. There should be inns and small towns eventually, but your need is more immediate. Even a hollow log would be enough until you are sure the demon isn’t following you.
You see the remnants of a small camp up ahead, nestled between two forks of the path. It looks to be long abandoned, the torn tent canvas dusty and fire pit growing weeds. The tent is far too ruined to offer a place to hide. You must keep going.
Take the left fork.
Take the right fork.
You flee west into the deep forest. The gnarled trees are older than the kingdom itself, and hold more secrets. Surely even the demon won’t follow you here.
You run as far as you can, only daring to look back when the stitch in your side causes you to stop. The demon isn’t there. You are completely alone.
A thin screech disturbs the quiet. Warning fables come out from the depths of your consciousness, stories of wild witches and giant carnivorous bugs. But there are worse things waiting for you back in Tyven. You press onwards.
After a while you stop to rest against the trunk of a tree. Your dress is in tatters and your feet ache. You are not dressed properly for a run through the forest. At least the demon seems to have decided to let you go. Up ahead you can see the faint outline of a house or perhaps a hunter’s cabin. Even from far off it looks abandoned.
The ground rumbles below your weary feet. Your body tenses. A tree falling? An earthquake? You wait and there is another rumble, a bit stronger this time. You can hear the cracking of tree trunks. The ground rumbles again, even stronger. Something big is coming this way, much bigger than the demon.
You gather up your skirts and prepare to run, but the next tremor is less intense. The creaking of the trees is quieter. Whatever it is seems to be moving away. Maybe you won’t need to run after all. But it might be a good idea to find a place to hide for a while.
Go to the hunter’s cabin.
Continue deeper into the forest.
You take the left fork.
The trail plateaus and the scenery opens up into vast fields of scrubby grass. There are massive spiked logs as thick around as tree trunks standing at even intervals about a hundred yards off either side of the path. You feel completely vulnerable as you run across the fields. If the demon is still following, he will be able to spot you from a mile off.
A little ways ahead there is a small cluster of trees growing up out of the grass like an oasis in a desert. You sprint towards it, ignoring the stitch in your side. Just a few hundred yards and you will be able to rest.
You make it there safely and curl yourself as small as you can at the base of one of the trees. You should be well hidden here should anyone happen along.
You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but you did. You awaken to the feeling of being pulled up into the air by a massive hand around your waist. A giant peers at you with his beady eyes. You should never have stopped to rest. You should have kept going.
The giant says something in a guttural language you can’t understand, then flips you upside down to poke and prod between your legs with a meaty finger bigger around than a man’s cock.
He seems to realize that you’re not nearly ready to take something of that size and brings you up to his lips. His scruffy beard scratches your legs as he rubs his mouth against you, his saliva dripping down into you and making you slick enough for him to push a finger in.
Blood rushes to your head and you start to feel faint. The giant fucks you with his finger until you are shaking from the stimulation. You come and he brings you to his mouth again to lick up your juices. Only when he’s done does he flip you right side up. All the blood drains from your head and you see stars.
The giant grunts something and begins to undo his pants with one hand. His cock is wider than your waist. He will tear you in two if he tries to fuck you with it. You struggle in his grip, punching at his massive fingers around your waist. The giant frowns and pushes you down onto his cock.
His cock head smacks against your pussy, obviously unable to go in. He grinds you down against it apparently undeterred by the size difference. He starts to rub his shaft as he continues to push and grind you against his cock. Despite your terror his rubbing against your pussy makes you come again. He comes too, covering you in ropes of thick seed. You shudder in his grip, a helpless plaything to the giant.
He gently puts you back down where he found you and lumbers off without a glance back. You hurry back onto the path, terrified of being caught by another giant. You are exhausted and filthy and in much need of sleep. But the demon might still be after you. You need to go a bit further before you can rest safely.
You push through your exhaustion and arrive at a town called Black Hollow just as dawn is breaking over the mountains. There are no walls, only a narrow river that could be easily swum across. A low, wide bridge takes you into the city.
The streets are still quiet. There are no infernal monsters. There are no Order members in black robes. You feel like everything is normal again, though you know it isn’t back in Tyven.
> The only other person out at this hour is a man in the robes of the king’s religion. He approaches and you prepare to flee, or fight. You’ve learned not to trust those who think they serve the gods.
His face is clean shaven, and kind, and the smile he offers makes you a little less wary. He introduces himself as Sanley the keeper of Black Hollow.
“Where have you come from?” he asks.
You keep your guard up. Who knows how far the Order’s influence reaches. “What’s a keeper?” you ask him. “Is it part of the church?”
He looks puzzled, then seems to remember the robes he is wearing. “Oh, these? They were a gift when I was in need. Just fabric, nothing more.”
“Are people very religious in Black Hollow?” you ask.
He smiles. “Hardly. Talk of religion seems to frighten you. Where are you from?”
This puts you at ease. You decide to accept his help, for now.
“Tyven,” you reply. “And before that, Doria I think.”
He looks you up and down. You must be in a sorry state. He frowns. “Has something happened in Tyven?”
Epilogue.
You take the right fork and soon regret it. From here the climb grows even steeper, the path even narrower and covered in loose stones. Soon you are forced to slow down and rest. You nestle behind a boulder knowing it would do little to actually hide you from your pursuer.
