The Pillaging of an Empire

by Amanda Clover

  “You can fuck me, Girki. Come on.”

  The gertling hesitated a moment more, but caution could only hold him so long when presented with such an opportunity. One any gertling would dream of. He scrambled onto the bed, stroking his stunted excuse of a cock, his wide ears flapping as he crawled between her legs. Selina nodded encouragingly, her fingers parting her lower lips to bare her hot depths.

  “Come. Fuck me Girki. Take my human cunt.”

  “Yes!” the gertling squealed as he crawled between her legs. He grabbed her hips, aligned his cock, and thrust.

  Selina gasped. She had taken many men and monsters and the like over the years. Most were far larger than the gertling, and all of a different shape. But she would admit, she’d always had a strange fascination for the more pathetic of the monsters. How they desperately yearned to take a human woman as their own, to fuck them and breed them even though they were unlikely ever to have the chance. There was something to be said for the gertling’s stunted cock. Though small, the irregular shape of its bulbous length rubbed against her inner walls in a way that sent pleasure singing up her body. She moaned softly, throwing back her head.

  “Ooooh!” Girki moaned as he began to pound her, his thin hips slapping at her mound as he thrust his stunted shaft inside her welcoming cunt. “Cove hot! So hot!”

  “Yessss!” Selina moaned, rocking against him, the mark above her mons glowing softly. “Yes! Fuck me Girki. Fuck me with your cock! Ah! P-play with my breasts. Suck them! I know you want to. I’ve watched you stare at them. Suck them Girki!”

  Eagerly the gertling complied. The huntress gasped as his thin lips locked onto her jutting nipple, his rough teeth grazing the hard flesh in a way that made her core quiver and cunt squeeze his shaft.

  “Yesss! Fuck me Girki! Cum in me! Fuck me raaaaw!”

  “Yesss!” the gertling squealed. “Me cum! Me breeeeeeed!”

  The gertling screamed in pleasure, his cock twitching within her. She gasped as she felt his oily seed burst inside of her. She moaned, pulling him against her, smothering his face between her plush tits. The gertling moaned, his will weakening as he expended himself in her.

  And she had him.

  Selina gasped the words that would make him hers. The marks above her cunt blazed, binding the gertling to her. Girki moaned, his cock still twitching within her, his eyes bright, washing with devotion.

  Panting, Selina let the goblin slide out of her. It was hard to bind a monster like that to her. Her skill in the art was weaker than many of her sisters. One, Tavina, had once bound an entire orcish hunting tribe to her after a frantic orgy of pleasure, leading them against several other orcish bands in a bloody swathe. But Selina’s ability had never gone beyond a single monster at a time. Her skill was not in sorcery, but in steel.

  Girki fell off of her, panting. He looked at her with adoration, and Selina had to smother a sudden surge of affection for the creature. Another by-product of the binding. Many sisters failed their test for that, unable to resist the call of affection for their monstrous partners. Often, it would require killing the creature to break it. But some had been known to fall in the field, their will unable to overcome their monstrous mate’s. Others had failed in the testing ceremony, throwing aside their aspirations to become a huntress and instead becoming a mate for the monster they had sought to bind. Such sisters were held as cautionary tales. Thralls to their monstrous husbands. Happy, fulfilled even, but breeding stock, lost forever to the order.

  “Girki?” Selina said softly.

  The goblin stared at her raptly.

  “Girki, how do you feel?”

  “Me… me feel good,” the goblin panted.

  Selina smile sadly. She didn’t necessarily like doing this, but needs must. And she had to be sure the gertling wouldn’t betray her until she could free him somewhere far from civilization. She reached out, taking the goblin’s stunted shaft in her hand. The gertling gasped, hips rising as her fingers began to run up and down his warty length.

  “Ooooh…” the goblin moaned.

  “I’ll make you a deal, Girki,” Selina said, her fingers gliding up and down the gertling’s cock.

  “What deal?” the gertling gasped, his tiny hips pumping his warty cock into her hand.

  “Obey me, and I’ll let you go when we’re somewhere safe. Agreed?”

  The gertling moaned. “Don’t… know…”

  She frowned a little. She crawled closer, shadowing his small frame. “Girki?” she said, her dripping pussy hovering over his cock. “Please?”

  The gertling bit his lip, then she slowly lowered her cunt. The stunted monster cried out, arching beneath her as her hungry pussy devoured his length. “Ooooh!”

  “Girki,” Selina moaned, her hips moving, fucking the small monster into the bed beneath her, her cunt sloshing around his warty cock. “Oooh… Girki…”

  The goblin moaned, the mark above her mons glowing. “Girki… Girki do! Girki do what ask!”

  “Then cum, Girki! Cum in me again!”

  “Girki… ahhhh!” The goblin squealed, thrusting in a sudden frenzy, his cock again pumping her with his seed. Selina moaned as her pussy rippled around his warty shaft, her orgasm trembling through her, breasts shuddering with pleasure.

  Panting, she released her stiffened muscles, descending atop him. She felt spent after the spell. Drawn out. She rolled back onto the bed, not even feeling up to washing the gertling’s cum from between her thighs. She tugged up the blankets, then glanced down as the gertling crept off the bed.

  “Where are you going?”

  Girki jumped and turned about. “Me… me sleep on floor…”

  Selina sighed. She lifted the blanket. “Come here. But only if you promise to behave yourself.”

  The gertling stared uncertainly. She gave the blanket a flutter and the goblinoid approached again. He crawled under the covers and Selina let the cloth fall over them. Closing her eyes, she felt the gertling bury his head between the cushions of her breasts. For a moment she considered remonstrating him, but she was rather tired, after all, and it wasn’t so bad, she supposed. She sighed, and let her eyes slide shut in sleep.

  Afield

  “They came in the night,” the villager said softly. “Didn’t see none a them until they were on us. Palisade did nothing. They took it out. Fire. The screams. I remember the screams. They took my daughter. Killed my son.”

  Selina listened attentively. Her horse nickered, tugging at the reins impatiently. She held them steady, urging the man on with a nod.

  “It was the orc. The pale one with a skull painted on his face. He led the raid. They plunged in and slaughtered anyone they could. But they took the girls. Them they took.”

  “Do you know where?”

  “Across the river. Into the Grimlands.”

  Selina pursed her lips, eyes narrowing. “I see. And, what does the Duke of Ashes mean to you?”

  The man’s face tightened. “They say he leads the monsters against humanity. That he’s a sorcerer of power. That he hates the nobles and strikes at them.” He turned and spat in the dust.

  Selina frowned a little. “You hate him?”

  “Not a soul in Istanov doesn’t,” the man said. “Once, so’s said, he just preyed on the nobles. The greedy ones. I hear some say the Duke tries to measure the monsters attacks. Direct them. That the sacking of Novrod was his doing. Showed the nobles and their daughters the fate our women have feared centuries going.”

  “And what do you think?” she asked.

  The peasant’s expression was drawn with fatigue. “I don’t know what he was. All I know is you hear monsters everywhere. And my village wasn’t sacked by men. That’s all I know now.”

  She gave the man a grateful nod. “Thank you.”

  The man shrugged drooping shoulders. His eyes dark and hollow, he turned and made his way back towards the road. Heading east, to better protected lands.

  Selina remained where she was for a moment, fi
nger on her lips, head bowed with thought. A familiar tale the further west she went. Raids. Monsters creeping from the dark. Women taken, men most often slain. Not an unfamiliar tale, true. Istanov had always been plagued by the darker creatures, its rugged landscape holding many hollows and dark places where men rarely dared and things could hide with impunity. The empire’s militant orders were half in answer to that. But never had she heard reports like this. Orcs pouring over in pillaging bands. Wugs crawling from their marshy homes to harry the highways before retreating back. Wargs and ogres and trolls and worse things yet, all active at the same time, straining the empire’s resources to respond.

  Selina made her way up along the street, her worry a heavy weight on her chest. Arval was a large, heavily fortified town. A week out of Moskov, it was a former border capital before being absorbed into the empire. Its people were a hardy folk, their mounted troops legendary. Thanks to that, they had largely been able to fend off the seeming random raids of monsters into their lands.

  She entered her room in the tavern and threw herself down on the bed, sighing heavily with worry. Girki rose from where he had been sitting near the hearth, feeding the flames. He’d filled out a little since leaving Moskov. Decent food and no beatings would do that to anyone.

  “What matter, Silver-hair?”

  She glanced down at the gertling and sighed. “Nothing, Girki. Only… worried.”

  The gertling cocked his head. “You worried?”

  She nodded.

  “Want Girki give pleasure?”

  She lifted her head and a brow at the stunted creature. His eyes were glowing with eagerness and his crooked teeth bared in a smile. Despite herself, she chuckled. “Well, if you insist…”

  The gertling squeaked in glee and scrambled up onto the bed. She loosened her belt, allowing the goblinoid to pull down her pants and panties and bare her slit. The tattoo above her mons pulsed with the nearness of the creature. Girki licked his lips, then dove in.

  “Ah!” Selina gasped, hips bucking. She grabbed the gertling’s head, pulling him flush against her muff with a moan, his long nose resting against her mons, his tongue slithering into her tight channel hungrily.

  “Oh f-fuck! Girki. You’re… you’re getting good at this…”

  “Silver-hair tasty,” the gertling panted as his long tongue swirled in her cunt. “Me love!”

  She laughed softly, her hips rising lazily, pushing her cunt against his eager tongue. “Mnnn. Me too. Keep at it, Girki. I- Ahn!” She gasped, rocking as the gertling’s tongue found her clit. She moaned as the goblin eagerly tongued her, sucking on the buzzing bead. “G-Girki! I’m… I’m going to… Ahhhh!”

  Selina screamed as she came, her juices washing over the gertling’s face in a flood. Panting, she came down slowly from that height, looking down at the goblin with breathless pleasure.

  “Me fuck now?” the gertling panted eagerly.

  She sighed good-naturedly. “Alright, Girki. You may.”

  Wide mouth splitting in eager excitement, the stunted monster crawled higher and between her thighs. Selina moaned as the gertling shoved his warty cock into her hungry pussy and began to feverishly rut with her, pawing at her shirt. Moaning, Selina helped him, pulling open her jacket and shirt to bare the sway mounds of her breasts. The gertling buried his face between them, worshipping her teats with his tongue while he eagerly pounded her cunt.

  Lost in the pleasures of her stunted lover’s eager rutting, for a moment at least, Selina let the troubles of the world slip away. But when at last she lay, sated, Girki’s oily cum leaking from her slit, the gertling asleep beside her, she lay awake, quietly staring at the ceiling in thought.

  Discoveries

  The fresh graves drew up her hackles as she rode past the edge of the village. A stone chapel rose out of the hill like a helmet, the three suns of the Fatherton Faith outlined atop its steeple. The unmortared stone gave it a crude appearance, but sturdy. Beneath its shadow, the wooden planks serving as headstones stood out starkly.

  The village was in the middle of the heartlands, two weeks out from Arval. Too small for a wall. Too small for a name on the map. The scattered fields near the edges of the homes bespoke the farming community, but the people… Where were the people?

  Selina watched the shuttered buildings closely, her gold flecked eyes sharp and intent. She tossed her braid back over her shoulder and turned her steed about what served as the village square.

  “Anyone alive?” she called.

  Her sharp eyes caught movement among the windows. She heard the low creak of hinges as a door slowly opened. Selina turned towards the hefty man who stepped out, dressed in a peasant’s shirt and a long apron. He had an innkeeper’s stout and sturdy build, his arms thick with muscle. He stepped warily forward, looking her up and down. She felt his eyes fixate on her silver hair and golden eyes.

  “You’re… are you a huntress?”

  Selina nodded. “I am.”

  The man deflated a little. “Oh thank the gods!” he breathed. He looked up at her, pleading. “Please, mistress. We beg your aid! There’s a monster. A beast! He stalks our village every night, taking any who go outdoors past the hour. He… he demands payments…”

  Selina’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of payments?”

  The miller bowed his head. “My lady… he… he demands our daughters…”

  Selina frowned deeply. She bit the corner of her lip with thought. “I have other work…”

  “Please!” the man cried, grabbing the edge of her long coat. “My lady, please! I beg of you. We can pay! Anything! But he… he came again last night. My daughter… she…”

  Selina glanced up at a window of the inn. The shutter had drawn back, a young woman standing there in a drab robe held shut with loose fingers. Selina saw her. The woman had brown hair in an uncombed tangle. She did not hide like the rest of the villagers. In those dark eyes, Selina saw there was nothing that woman feared anymore.

  Without thinking, Selina scratched the cut on her cheek. “…Very well.” She dismounted, pulling Girki down after her. “Let’s speak.”

  The man nodded. He gave Girki a wary look but desperation and prudence forestalled anything more. He led her inside of what served the village as a tavern.

  It was cold within, the hearth dead and filled with ashes. Despair hung like ghostly cobwebs in every corner of the common room. Selina took a seat at a table, drawing Girki with her. The innkeeper hastily drew her a mug of foamy ale and set it down before her as he took his own seat. He clasped his hands before him, interlaced fingers faintly trembling.

  “What is this monster?” she asked.

  “A… a beast, my lady. A wolf who walks as a man. Three times stronger than any man I’ve known. He came out of the west a week past, prowling. He took Kurtov’s daughter by the stream. When Rikard, his son, tried to stop it, the beast… it tore his head off…”

  Selina tapped her fingers on the table, frowning. She pushed her drink aside and Girki eagerly drank. “How tall? How long his teeth? How large his claws?”

  The innkeeper spread his hands helplessly. “Ah, I cannot say, mistress. He comes at night. Larger than I, but…”

  “His claws?”

  Selina raised her head as the young woman she saw at the window walked down the stairs. The innkeeper scrambled to his feet.

  “Mary! You shouldn’t be…”

  “Here,” the woman said. She shrugged off her cloak and Selina sucked a breath in through her teeth. Mary was shapely but not quite fat. She’d be beautiful, but only if one ignored the long red claw marks up and down her form, focused mainly on her thighs and on her breasts.

  “What can you tell from these?”

  The innkeeper bit his lip and glanced towards Selina. The huntress rose and quietly crossed the floor. She looked over the young woman’s wounds with a sharp eye, taking in the savage marks, smelling the faint antiseptic scent of the villager’s remedies. Selina ran a finger along one of the deepest
cuts, Mary standing still despite the pain Selina knew she must feel.

  The huntress glanced back. “A week?”

  The innkeeper nodded stiffly.

  “Have you sent no one for aid from the lord?”

  The innkeeper spread his hands hopelessly. “We are a small village, mistress. And the beast, he warned us…”

  “He spoke to you?”

  “Aye…”

  Selina’s brow furrowed deeper. “How does he do it?”

  The innkeeper hesitated.

  “In the village square,” Mary said softly. “One of us is there when the sun goes down.”

  “We tried not to,” the innkeeper moaned, clutching his head. “The priest, father Maxim! He told us not to. That we would be damned! He swore at the beast that first night, standing in the square instead. It killed him, and claws still bloodied, broke down the Millers’ door. Killed Miller and his wife, but, not before... What can we do against such a beast?” the innkeeper cried, looking up at her desperately. “What could we do?”

  Selina drew back her hand, her stomach roiling at the impossible choice. “Give me a lantern and some lamp oil,” she said. “Tonight, lock up tight. No one opens the doors or windows, no matter what you hear. I will deal with this.”

  “Thank you, my lady. Thank you.”

  “Twenty gold pieces.”

  The innkeeper gaped. “Twenty…”

  “My fee.”

  The innkeeper swallowed. He nodded shakily. “I… I will get the money. There’s some… bound to be…”

  “Good. Remember,” she said again with a pointed look. “No one looks outside. Girki?”

  The gertling jumped and pattered after her as she left the inn, shutting the door firmly behind her.

  The Hunt

  The sun burned away the day on the eastern horizon, sliding behind the Mur Mountains. The shadows of the village’s houses grew long, deepening until they covered the ground. When nothing but a sliver of daylight remained, Selina lit the lamp and hung it from a tall post in the village square.