Saturday, May 9, 2020

Triumph Afterward


What a long, strange road it’s been!  I find it hard to believe that I’ve actually finished the series.  I didn’t really intend to make it one when I set out eight years ago to write Orc Dominion: Zentara.  I was just looking to turn some of my favorite fantasies into a story, not create an entire world and series.  Thank you to everyone who has rated or commented on my stories.  You’re the reason that one book became four and a half.



I have learned a lot since I first started writing, and though not everyone has enjoyed the themes, genres, or direction the story has gone I think the quality of the writing itself has gotten better.  When I started writing Triumph 2.5 years ago I thought it was going to be the culmination of all I had learned, and in a way it is.  But there was also some hubris there.  I thought that I would be able to sit down and write the perfect novel in one shot.



I realize now how insanely optimistic that was.  No one writes the story they want on the first draft.  It requires revision and revision to go back and ensure all the imagery, allusions, themes and so forth are consistent and well placed throughout the story.  I didn’t do as good a job of that as I could have.  I should have done more to develop the relationship between Amelie and Anne, more to develop the relationship between Augras and his parents, and I probably should have shown more of the politics in Ruar.  Drauken ended up being gone from the city so often that I didn’t have the POV in the city, which I think left the coup plot underdeveloped.



I also could have done a better job spacing the POVs.  Now, part of it is because the story was published chapter by chapter over several months, but I feel like there are too many large gaps where we don’t see characters and the reader loses track of them.  It probably wouldn’t hit so hard if the story is read all the way through, but it definitely could be better spaced.



Part of that is because my outline for the story fell apart almost immediately.  The story was supposed to start with Augras, not Amelie.  So Chapter 2 would have been Chapter 1.  But it occurred to me that Augras’ first chapter is a little slow, and I wanted a battle to draw people in.  I also thought people would want to see Amelie first, since writing about Princesses is kind of my thing.  So I switched it up, but that threw off the pacing of every chapter that came afterward, so the balance I had of which characters appear when collapsed.



Also in the original outline, the only stories that really connected were Amelie and Augras.  Brigitte never met Amelie or Drauken, Jasmara and Henry never met Amelie etc.  It was essentially going to be 4 stories happening simultaneously without much interaction.  After thinking about it though, I realized that was crazy.  So I had to rework the outline so that their paths crossed, which I think worked out pretty well and we got some good scenes out of it, as well as some good character development. 



Overall, I think I did a good job of running multiple interconnected storylines and forging it into a cohesive narrative.  It was a little dodgy for me at the end as I wrapped them all up though.  I didn’t want to have several chapters in a row where everything just collapsed for the humans and the orcs won.  That’s why I blended the last Drauken/Jasmara chapters to drag that out a little, and was able to use Brigitte to show a ‘human’ victory before going into Amelie’s downfall.  Hopefully it came across as natural and not an abrupt end to the story.



So what is next for Orc Dominion?  Well, as I said earlier it’s hubris to think you can just sit down and write the perfect novel on the first try.  I have already started revising Zentara, cleaning up the writing and adding in some of the lore I developed after writing it.  I definitely want to expand on the relationship between Jeanette and her parents, as well as add in a subplot where Jeanette is stringing along some of the 8 Duchies with marriage offers, playing them against one another, and maneuvering them into the position of all agreeing the orc alliance is the right move.  I also want to finally soften the ending scene to bring it more in line with the rest of the series, and expand on her time in the brothel so it doesn’t escalate to a gangbang so quickly.



If any of you have suggestions for how to improve any of the stories, please leave them in the comments or send them to me via feedback.  I like hearing your ideas, even if I don’t always implement them.  Once the stories have been revised I am going to try publishing them online.  I want to do it on Amazon, but that’s going to cause trouble at some point since they don’t allow incest.  The other option I guess is Smashwords.  If you’ve had any experience with them, let me know what you think!



If that goes well, then I will go back and write a sequel series set 400 years in the future.  Things will have changed dramatically…minotaur breedings with humans, orcs, and elfs created ogres, trolls, and satyrs.  Magic is much more ubiquitous, though it still retains its ritualistic nature.  Orc houses war against one another, while a resistance forms to break their control over the Western Kingdoms.



Some of you have wondered why or how there would still be humans and elfs etc.  Wouldn’t they have been bred out of existence?  The answer is that several generations into orc rule, the dominant traits that allowed orc features to assert themselves over human and elf features begin to weaken.  You already see this with Augras and the other children of Lyriena and Trogar.  As such, the Emperor passes a series of blood laws which regulate how much interbreeding there can be to prevent the orc race from getting too weak. 



This also serves to better control who has access to magic, since you need to have orc, human, and elf blood in order to control it.  Of course, most of the great families bend these rules, creating human or elf looking servants with magic that they use as spies and assassins.  One of those would be the heroine of the story, who struggles between loyalty to the orcs that raised her up and gave her position and the resistance which wants to use her to bring down the corrupt system.



The one thing holding me back is that the ‘style’ isn’t really my forte.  My stories tend to revolve around noble women falling into corruption.  This story would be about a servant using sex to get ahead.  It would be a bit different than what I normally write and find interesting.  While I think it would have more mainstream appeal to the Literotica community, it may not be what my fanbase is looking for.



I also don’t think my heart would be in it for a lot of the sex scenes.  I like the story, but without the corruption aspect the erotic scenes would be forced in.  So we will see.  I’ll continue thinking about it, and work on revising my stories.  Again, leave a comment if you have any ideas on what could improve them.  If you send feedback through Literotica and want me to respond, remember to include your email.  Thanks again to all the readers who made it through the series, and for all your support while writing it.

Triumph Ch 18 & Epilogue


“We should be marching East, not West” King Trogar said for probably the hundredth time that day.  “If we move quickly we can still hunt down that treacherous fuck, Markoz, and capture his bitch princess.”  Trogar looked older than the last time she had seen him, but none the worse for wear after his captivity, but then it hadn’t been a particularly onerous one.



I lived harder on campaign than he did imprisoned.  Amelie resisted the urge to rub the bridge of her nose.  Augras’ father was eager for revenge on the orc who defeated him twice no matter how pointless and impractical it was.  Oh, the orc king couched it in terms of eliminating the last threat to the Western Kingdoms and making inroads towards controlling the trade routes across the March, but she knew the truth of it.  “Everyone’s had enough of war, Trogar.  King Augras wants peace.”



King Trogar’s jaw clenched at the mention of his son, before relaxing into a malicious smile.  “You should address me as “Your Highness” Amelie; only sovereigns get to use my given name.”  The leer he gave her said all he needed to about what he thought her status was.



It didn’t help that she was dressed for the part.  The ‘Slave-General’ armor that Augras gave her after the battle had been reinforced with graves and armor, but it was still comically, or rather, lewdly inappropriate for battle.  Not that there were currently any serious threats to her, but it did mean that she had to step back from being a warrior and fight from behind the lines instead of in front of them.



It was Augras’ way of ensuring she didn’t die gloriously in combat in an effort to get around his control, though at this point he need not have bothered.  Months under his influence had broken down her resistance and fully bent her to his will.  The pleasures he had unlocked in her had turned her into his whore.  Thankfully, he had forbidden her from indulging with his father, much to Trogar’s chagrin.  The King had taken it into his head to fuck the famous princess-knight and ‘seduce’ her away from his son but that had come to naught. 



Trogar gestured to the ranks of soldiers marching around them.  “And if my son is so interested in peace why is he keeping such a large, standing army?  I can still smell the blood on their swords, and it’s not from the war.”



The King of Deznessuian had been taking great delight in reminding her of her reduced status.  The fact that in this instance he was right only made it worse.  On the way to retrieving Trogar from the Sandorans she had to put down a few recalcitrant lords who had refused to swear fealty to Queen Anne and King Augras.



The worst part was that they were loyal to her, and didn’t believe she would actually march against them.  No, the worst part was that they didn’t believe I would storm their castles. At least, not until after I was done with the first one.  All the fighting men had marched to war with her, and were now either dead or trickling back to their homes.  Only the very old and the very young were left to defend the castle.



Amelie didn’t even have to siege the first castle: she just smashed in the gate, threw ladders up the wall and stormed in.  It was over with a minimum amount of bloodshed; at least on her side.  She wouldn’t say that the garrison was slaughtered to a man.  Amelie tried to save as many as she could.  Unfortunately, that mercy didn’t extend to the lord of the castle.  Count Armand was an old retainer of her father, who had served at his side for years.  He was too old to take to the field in the war, but his loyalty was never in question.



Unfortunately, the constant rebellions in Zentara and Heste had taught Augras that rebellions in counties and duchies held by humans were inevitable.  He had ordered a zero tolerance policy to ensure the eventual replacement of all noble houses with orcs.  Armand and his family were all executed, and a new orc family installed in the castle.  That was the moment she knew that Queen Amelie was dead, and only Slave-General Amelie remained.



The other rebellious lords surrendered quickly after that.  It saved their lives, but they still lost their lands and went east into exile and new orc dynasties were established.   So far the other lords had remained quiet and she prayed they stayed that way.  Although she still felt guilty over their fates, she couldn’t deny that her complete subjugation aroused her.  A smile crossed her lips as she raised her hand to bring her army to a halt.



“You’re correct of course, Your Highness.  King Augras is still asserting his authority in Thesta and my men have had to bloody them.  But he still desires peace.  Even now he is in Ruar meeting with the other Kings to determine the disposition of the Western Kingdoms now that the war is over.  Perhaps if you hurry you’ll make it there in time for the announcement.  As for the standing army, I think it’s time they are rewarded for their efforts.  Lieutenant Bosh’Mog!”



They were joined a moment later by a large minotaur, his body crisscrossed with scars.  The minotaur who served as her lieutenant gave her a great bovine grin as he looked down at her and Trogar.  “Yes, General?  What need?” He bellowed out.  Despite the mincennttis’ efforts to breed stupid, docile pack slaves the minotaurs were quite clever, and were already learning the common tongue of the Western Kingdoms.



Not many minotaurs had left the Catabrian Hills, but a few had who preferred more civilized surroundings.  From what she’d heard life in the southern continent had been quite primitive, and even life in the hills would be a step up.  But she didn’t mind, they were powerful warriors and excellent at intimidating foes into submission.



I suppose it will only be a matter of time before they’re called the Minotaur Hills Amelie thought.  That was where it all started, but it seemed like so long ago that now she was totally detached from the event. 



“I need you” she smiled up at the beastman, “to reward you, and the men, for their excellent service in our recent campaign.”



“Always happy to serve General!  Especially with rewards!”  Bosh’Mog snorted and lifted his thick cock from beneath the simple loincloth he wore outside of battle. 



The massive tool was half the size of her arm and not even hard yet, but that only excited her.  It wasn’t the first time she had taken it after all, and she knew just how it fit.  It had taken her a while to understand her place.  Amelie had thought all orcs treated their women like whores, but eventually she learned that orcs reserved the pussies of their women for themselves, but shared other holes freely. 



All of Amelie’s holes were shared freely among Augras’ men, because she wasn’t his woman.  She was a whore.  At least Anne is reserved for him alone she consoled herself, she doesn’t share any bit of her.  Except with me.  Even now the thought gave her a weird mix of emotions, as part of her was excited at the idea of her daughter being debased. 



Her strong hands found the shaft and began stroking it as she knelt at the minotaur’s hoofs.  The slab of meat pulsed beneath her fingers as she stroked it up and down, delighting in its thick girth and the heat radiating off of it.



“Victorious soldiers deserve rewards” Amelie purred, glancing at Trogar from the corner of her eyes.  She stroked faster and tightened her grip as she worked the cock, which was rapidly swelling to its full size.  Amelie’s not massive tits spilled out of her top as she leaned forward to lick the tip of Bosh’Mog’s cock.



It didn’t seem like too long ago she wouldn’t be able to imagine wrapping her breasts around a human cock, let alone a giant beast man’s cock.  Yet here she was, squeezing her full, luscious tits around the whole shaft, making it disappear between them as he thrust the tip up to her mouth.



Bosh’Mog grunted again and placed his huge hand atop Amelie’s head, gripping her entire skull with one hand as he pulled her down his cock.  Obviously she didn’t get the whole thing down her throat.  Honestly, he didn’t know how the human woman even managed to get the head inside her mouth, but somehow she did.



“Ah you give the best awards, Amelie” Bosh’Mog groaned as the soft, pillowy flesh of her tits jerked his shaft and her hot, wet mouth caressed the top half of his shaft.  His hips pushed forward, trying to cram even more of his thick dick into the former Queen’s mouth as he sought to maximize his pleasure.



The musky taste of the bull cock filled Amelie’s mouth as the thick girth filled it up, stretching out her cheeks and weighing heavily on her tongue.  Still, Amelie pushed back against it, stroking it as best as could as she moved her head, bobbing up and down, stabbing the back of her throat with the head of his dick and pressing back against the large hand holding her head in place.  The minotaur gave her enough latitude to slide up and down, but maintained enough of a grip that she couldn’t pull away.



When Bosh’Mog squeezed the back of her head Amelie quivered in pleasure.  The dominant gesture reinforced how in control of her he was.  Bosh’Mog was her subordinate, someone she commanded in battle and gave regular orders to.  But now that the battle was over she was on her knees swallowing his dick, totally under his power.  Not just in private either, but before the entire army where everyone could see.



Amelie’s cunt gushed in excitement as she felt her mouth squeeze around the head enough for it to slide into her throat.  Bosh’Mog wasted no time and immediately thrust forward again to feed more of his cock into her throat.  The shaft throbbed in need as Amelie’s throat constricted around it.  The former Queen’s vestigial gag reflex squeezed the dick, but through practice and discipline she resisted fully gagging on the massive invader.



“Ah, when Augras promised us women, I did not know he meant Queens as well.  Or they would be so good at sucking cocks.”  Bosh’Mog grunted as Amelie’s throat twitched around his cock.  “I know of more soldiers who fought well and need reward.  When finished you treat them too!”



A small crowd had begun to form to watch.  Trogar first among them, a frustrated, disgusted sneer on his face.  But her personal bodyguards were there as well, not that it wasn’t anything they hadn’t seen before.  More soldiers began to gather around, perhaps hoping that they would get a turn when the minotaur was finished.



Amelie gurgled and gasped as the cock was suddenly pulled from her throat, leaving her wheezing as the heavy wet meat slapped against body and left a wet trail on her chest.  Her hard nipples buzzed with excitement and her thighs dampened as her arousal continued to grow.  She looked up at Bosh’Mog’s bovine face as her mouth hanged open, waiting in frustration for further instruction.



“Get up and put hands on horse” Bosh’Mog commanded as he gripped his cock and stroked it slowly while watching the debased Queen.



“Yes Bosh’Mog!” Amelie chirped as she sprung to her feet with a warrior’s grace, though you wouldn’t know it from the lewd way her massive tits flopped about.  She quickly turned towards her mount and leaned against the beast, spreading her legs as she placed her hands on the saddle.



“You behave well.  Hard to believe you fearsome warrior!  But you reward fighters…maybe you need reward too?”  Bosh’mog grinned as he slapped his wet cock on Amelie’s waiting ass, and then slapped it against her slit and started rubbing it against her labia.



“Mmm!  I do!  I want a reward for leading you to victory!  Please give me your big cock Bosh’Mog!  Please!”  Amelie whimpered eagerly as she thrust her hips back, shaking her round ass from side to side hoping to entice the minotaur into slamming his huge cock deep inside her.



Bosh’Mog’s thick hands encased Amelie’s pert ass, squeezing it firmly before giving it a smack powerful enough to leave a large red mark behind.  “You want cock?  You really want?”  The minotaur gripped the base of his shaft and guided it between her legs and started rubbing the tip against her wet labia, applying a growing pressure upwards towards her canal.



“Ah!  Please!  Yes!  I want your fat minotaur cock in my pussy!”  Amelie mewled out the words, knowing that begging for her cunt to be fucked only lowered her in their eyes.  Or rather, solidified her position at the bottom of the hierarchy, an unclaimed woman who could be fucked and bred by anyone.  At least that isn’t likely, she thought, not at my age. 



“At your command, General” Bosh’Mog sneered.  He slid his hand up and gripped her by the waist.  The minotaur held her tightly in place while he thrust forward, pushing the thick bull dick deep inside Amelie.  The former Queen’s well-trained walls parted for the invader, allowing it passage into her very depths.  Bosh’Mog continued to push until the broad tip battered her cervix.



“Nnnn!” Amelie’s pleasured scream rang out loudly through the circle formed by the assembled crowd.  She was too far gone to consciously notice their lustful gazes.  Amelie didn’t even notice the look of frustration, envy, and desire on Trogar’s face.  Their attentions only burned at the back of her mind, a subtle, decadent pleasure in knowing she was being completely taken before so many witnesses.



“That’s it, take it Amelie” the minotaur grunted as he slid one hand up to grip her breast.  Even his large hands had trouble gripping the truly massive, magically enhanced tit.  He still managed to squeeze it tightly, sending a jolt of pain through Amelie as he pulled it down.  Bosh’Mog began hammering into her, pumping again and again as he fed her his dick.



“Ah ah ah!”  Amelie’s cries grew shrill as the thick minotaur cock drilled into her, the impacts coming faster and harder as Bosh’Mog lost himself to his bestial urges.  She began rutting back into him, meeting his thrusts with her own.  Her ass clapped against his pelvis as she grinded into his body, melting their bodies together as she undulated lewdly.



Bosh’Mog slid his other hand beneath Amelie’s thigh and lifted it up, raising her leg up over her head.  The new angle was so steep that he ended up lifting her off the ground and holding her suspended while they fucked.  “I’m going to empty my balls soon.  Right into you.  Once you beg for it.  Beg for my seed!”  Bosh’Mog emphasized his demand with a sharp tug on her nipple.



Amelie squealed as the sensitive nub was pulled.  The sudden jolt made her body tighten and constrict around his fat cock and she shake uncontrollably.  “Give me your cum!  Fill me up!  Shoot it all inside me please!”  The pistoning of the cock finally pushed her over the edge and her mind went blank the pleasure rippled through her as she begged obscenely



“Take it slut!”  Bosh’Mog bellowed out as he pushed his pulsing cock against Amelie’s cervix and dumped his load, spraying thick cum all over the entrance to Amelie’s womb.  His grip on her thigh and breast tightened, bruising her flesh as he clutched her tightly, refusing to let her go until her body had taken every last bit of her seed.



“Mmmm!  Aaaaah, ah ah….” Amelie moaned softly as she came down from the climax.  Her mind was still swimming and she tremors of pleasure ran through her.



When Bosh’Mog’s cock finally stopped twitching he pulled his dripping cock out of her pussy which gaped open and gushed out a torrent of the minotaur’s cum.  “That’s a good fuck, Amelie.  Now, here are the soldiers who also fought well…”



****



“Queen Jeanette is still resting” Dorian announced to the assembled council, “King Grotok’s death has hit her exceptionally hard.”



Exceptionally hard is an understatement Augras thought.  If the stories are true she suffered a complete apoplexy.  “Let’s get started then.” Augras settled into a seat at the head of the table.  Across from him was his uncle Belkor, and around the table the rest of the council of Zentara.   



“That is the Queen’s chair” Belkor said, glaring at his nephew, “not yours, Prince Augras.”



“King Augras, uncle.  As such it is my right to sit here, especially as the Queen is unwell.”  Augras smiled nastily.  “The Kingdoms must go on.  There is a lot of work to be done to consolidate our family’s hold on the Western Kingdoms, and as my powers will be a large part of that I insist on taking my place at the table.”



Belkor began to snarl, but Dorian just looked at him stonily.  “It is fortunate that you are here, Your Highness, to fill the role so quickly left vacant by the Queen’s illness and the death of our King.  I don’t know what we’d do without you.”



Of course he suspects I’d have something to do with Jeanette’s illness, Augras thought, It’s his job to see foul play in seemingly innocent circumstances.  Augras forced a cocky grin onto his lips.  “Indeed, it is fortunate I returned or the war would have been lost.  Fate is cruel, and raises some up even as it strikes others down.”



“That’s my mother you’re speaking of!”  Belkor growled.



“And my grandmother, but destiny has a plan for us all, even the most powerful.”  Augras countered.



“This is pointless” Vilknar, Jeanette’s eight son and the royal treasurer said, “we have important matters to discuss.  The war has depleted the treasuries of Zentara and Heste, and I would wager that Thesta and Sandora are not faring much better.  We need to refill the treasuries and restore trade between the Kingdoms and through the Angrian March.”



“Restoring trade will be easy enough” Augras said nonchalantly before hardening his voice, “but rebuilding the economy of Zentara might be harder.  After liquidating the Guilds you will have a hard time finding skilled and intelligent labor.”  After a moment he added, “Or people willing to cross the March after the last Caravan Master was killed and with your own soldiers pushing the orcs east onto the trade routes.”



“Traitors are a grave threat, and rich traitors all the more so.  They had to be punished for plotting against the crown” Dorian interjected.



“As do those who murdered the Duchess Susannah” Belkor added.



“Indeed.  The sacking of Shropfordshire has also made the caravans leery of traveling that route.  So here you are without a merchant class or safe routes through the March making it hard to restore trade.”  Augras let that sit for a moment before continuing, “Fortunately, I have a solution.  The merchants in Thesta are untouched, and flush with cash from royal expenditures during the war.  They are more than capable of taking up the eastern trade routes until order has been restored.”



A violent outcry erupted from all the councilors as Augras sat there with a serene expression on his face.  After several moments it finally calmed enough for Vilknar to break through.  “You intend to reroute the trade routes through Thesta?  The economy of Zentara will never recover if you take the eastern trade.”



“The Elfin trade too, actually.  While negotiating King Trogar’s ransom the subject came up, and it just makes more sense for Elfish products to be routed through Thesta until things in Ruar are settled.  The shipping routes are a little longer, but the security of them will more than make up for it.”



Another clamor erupted, and though the debate raged for what seemed like hours Augras would not be budged.  He didn’t have to be, it was all arranged and controlling trade was integral into making Orlous the center of the new orc dominion.  Finally Augras raised his hands to silence the table.  “Gentlemen, we can argue all night long and it won’t change anything.  Let us table this discussion and move on to some other pressing matters, such as deciding who will assume the Throne of Sandora.”



 “Jasmara turned it down” Belkor said, “though she wouldn’t say why.  She hasn’t spoken her intentions to anyone: the only thing she’ll say is that she needs to talk to the Queen first.”



“She’s booked passage on a ship bound for the east” Dorian added, “as well as a ship bound west and south, as well as every caravan leaving the city.  The Princess clearly plans to leave us, and doesn’t want us knowing where.”



“No doubt you’ll ferret out the truth soon enough, Dorian, but I wouldn’t spend too much time on it.  Aunt Jasmara doesn’t pose a threat to the Western Kingdoms.  I suppose we should go next down the line of succession: that’s you, isn’t it Uncle Vilknar?”  Augras grinned at the Royal Treasurer.  “I nominate Prince Vilknar for the throne.”



Silence settled around the table as everyone considered the notion.  Vilknar had served loyally and competently for many years, but wasn’t seen as being particularly ambitious.  He too often opposed his mother’s excesses, and wasn’t known to fawn over her as the rest of the children.  It made him something of an outsider in the family, which made him ideal for Augras’ purposes.  Putting him on the throne would remove a talented servant from Jeanette while creating a peer who would be at least neutral to him and Jeanette.



“Princess Jasmara is a renowned warrior and commander.  She sacrificed much during the war, and had the endorsement of Queen Jeanette,” Dorian said, “she did not receive the offer by virtue of her position in the line of succession.”



Vilknar bristled at the apparent dismissal.  “I have better managed the Kingdom’s finances for years, in extremely trying circumstances.  Besides, if not me, who?  Frenok or Dolnog?  Their insipid, decrepit dilettantes.   Griselda?  You might as well crown her husband.  I am the only qualified candidate left.”



“No decision should be made without mother” Belkor insisted.



Augras was waiting for this.  “She suffered an apoplexy: she’s not in the right frame of mind to contribute to such a decision.  We need to install someone now and solidify our grip on the Kingdom.  The last thing we need is to appear weak or indecisive.  Vilknar is the best choice.”  Augras flashed what he thought was a winning smile to Vilknar, but the punctilious prince only looked back warily.



After a moment Vilknar broke his gaze from Augras and glared around the table.  “King Augras is correct, we need to settle this now.  Mother is in no condition to make this decision, and if we’re all being honest she wasn’t even before the apoplexy.  Can anyone here can provide a real objection to my assuming the throne?”  After a moment of silence passed with no one being able to offer an objection he continued, “Then it’s settled.  Moving on, Belkor, how is the hunt for the remaining enemy forces in Heste progressing?”



After another moment of silence, Belkor finally replied, “The Hestens have either fled with Henry or lain down their arms.  The Thestans are hiding in the mountains, looking for goat tracks that will lead them back home.”



“They’re welcome to, assuming they’ll agree to a parole.  They’re no danger without Amelie leading them.  What about the Catabrians?”  Augras asked.



Belkor glowered at Augras.  “Trapped between my men and the minotaurs.”  The Hesten King’s voice got harder, “They would be finished by now if your allies were cooperating.  One of my patrols pursued a group of them into the hills and those Abyss spawned beasts killed the Catabrians and my men alike!”



“They’re a territorial people.  Believe me, I know.  I’d suggest leaving them to their Hills.  I certainly intend to from my side.  You’ll have to keep a garrison in the region anyway to enforce your rule in the territory of the old norther lords.  Just step up patrols and before too long they’ll have whittled away to nothing.”



“Don’t tell me how to run my Kingdom!” Belkor snarled.  “Perhaps you should focus on eliminating the rebellious Dukes in the West!”



“They will fall in time.  Until such a time as Queen Jeanette recovers, my forces will continue to besiege their castles” Augras replied smoothly.  In truth they were Zentaran levies that belonged to Jeanette, but as he inherited them upon Grotok’s death and Jeanette was in no position to contest his control he decided to reinforce his claim.



“Perhaps your mincenntti sorceress can speed things along” Dorian interjected, “though you would have to summon her from Orlous.  Is she not well enough to travel?”



“Marishka is gone” Augras said simply.  “Her destiny has been fulfilled.”  Augras let that sit for a moment, and then smiled and placed his hands on the table as he rose.  “Well, I think that concludes our business for the day.  Congratulations, King Vilknar.  I look forward to working with you in the future.”



****



It was unreal being back home.  Growing up it had seemed so small and confining.  Jasmara had itched and chafed to break free, see the world, and explore.  She had even considered sailing off with Augras when he left all those years ago, but decided against it.  Jasmara didn’t want to insert herself into her young nephew’s expedition.



After her captivity the castle seemed humungous, with wide, open spaces.  Here she could stretch out, walk tall, and be whatever or whomever she wanted.  Yet I still can’t wait to leave.  How could they have thought I would want to be Queen?  Jasmara didn’t intend to stay in Zentara long, and certainly didn’t want to become Queen of Sandora.  As soon as she spoke to her mother she intended to catch the first ship out of the harbor and head to the Eastern Kingdoms to find Katerei and ask about her father.



As she crossed the courtyard a statue of Turogg stared down at her accusingly.  She paused beneath its shadow and looked up for a moment, before continuing on her way.  Jasmara didn’t mean to minimize the effect Turogg had on her life.  He had been a father to her, after all, at least until he passed.  Thankfully he didn’t live to know that she wasn’t his daughter by blood.



The Queen’s solar was not like she remembered.  Jasmara hadn’t been allowed inside when she was younger, but naturally that only made her want to see it more.  The suite had been a maze of silk, velvet, and leather.  Now it was all stripped bare.  Jasmara stopped short at the sight of Queen Jeanette.  Her mother looked different than she remembered.  Age, dissolute living, and finally the shock of losing a second son had taken a dreadful toll on her.  The apoplexy had wasted the left side of her face, which now dropped and caused her speech to slur.  Jeanette’s behavior had been growing increasingly erratic over the years, and from the warnings that the servants had given her it had only grown worse since the attack.



The shock had almost been enough to melt her resolve, to replace the anger and disgust she felt with pity.  Instead, it ultimately reminded her that Grotok was dead.  Killed because her mother allowed Agmar to start a war with Amelie.  A war that saw her tortured and raped.  A war that saw Amelie cast down to humiliations and depravities almost as terrible as the ones she had endured.



“Jasmara?  Is that you?  Come closer!”  Jeanette asked, squinting and trying to lean forward from her position propped up on the bed.



“It’s me, mother” she replied, keeping her voice even.  The sense of dread increased with every step that brought her closer to her mother’s bed.  But the steely resolve that she felt before battle filled her now.  It’s not that different really; just another type of fight.  “I’m back.”



“How are you feeling?  Was it terrible?  Of course it was.  I told those idiots to rescue you and they failed.  Who was the one who did it to you?  I’ll make sure they’re punished.  Everything they did to you will be done to them!  Who was it?  Not Henry, that sanctimonious prick wouldn’t do it, so who was it?”



“Daniels” Jasmara gritted out, “but don’t worry about retribution, mother, I’ve taken care of it myself.”



“I should hope so!  Daniels, that treacherous cur!  I always knew there was something wrong with him.  When I first met him-”



“Is Turogg really my father?”



For a moment Jasmara thought Jeanette was going to have another apoplexy and for a moment she felt guilty, but finally the Queen managed to stutter out, “Of course he is! He was a noble orc, a great warrior!  Who would I cheat on him with?”



“Gorath?  The mercenary captain that Amelie hired for you during the Second Heste War?”  Jasmara’s voice quivered just a bit as she struggled to keep her anger under control.  Jeanette looked like she was going to have another apoplexy, but this time Jasmara didn’t feel bad at all.  She didn’t even wait for her mother to respond: the truth was written on her face.  “Goodbye, mother.”



“I…Jasmara, I didn’t give you leave to depart!  Come back here!  I am the Queen!  Jasmara!”



Jasmara ignored it and left the room, and the castle, and the city.  It was time to put the Western Kingdoms and their petty wars behind her.  It was time to start a new life.



****



“What happened to my son?  How did Grotok perish in a victorious battle against a foe you outnumbered 10 to 1?”



Jeanette’s slurred voice was softer than he’d ever heard it.  The tenor that commanded armies in her youth had lost its edge, and not just from her illness.  Grief had taken its toll, grief for her sons, grief for her friend, grief for what had become of a once happy family.



“He challenged Amelie to single-combat.  It was noble, really.  He wanted to spare her from the indignity of life as a slave.”  Augras watched his grandmother carefully, taking in every detail.  The slightly drooping side of her face, the rashes on her skin, even down to her wrinkles and gray hair.  Jeanette didn’t look like she was enjoying the fruits of their victory.  I wanted to crush her, to get back at her for tricking me into falling in love with Bernadette all those years ago so she could spy on me.  But as he thought about Bernadette, and at Jeanette’s sad state, it just didn’t seem worth it anymore.  Not compared to the ghosts he still saw stalking him in the streets.



“Amelie killed my son, and you let her live?”  Jeanette beckoned him closer with a trembling hand.  “Why does she still live?”



Augras stepped closer, bending down closer to her.  “Because Grotok was right, of course.  Death would be preferable to life as my slave-general.”  Augras didn’t really believe that of course, but it was what she wanted to hear.



“It’s still too good for her.  She should die screaming” Jeanette grumbled and settled against her pillow.  “I heard that you paraded her through the city.  That you made her suck off her own subjects and fuck a centaur in a public square.”



“That’s true.  It forever destroyed her people’s image of her.  She’s no longer the Princess-Knight.  Now she’s just another whore.  Not like her daughter Anne, who is a lady of great grace and respectability.  In public, anyway.”  Augras laughed softly.



“Hmph.  Amelie rejected every betrothal attempt we made for Anne.  Thought she was too good for my children.  Now she’s married to my grandson!”



“Yes she is.  You should be proud, grandmother.  Your blood sits on every throne in the Western Kingdoms.”  Propped up by the bones of thousands.  “It is just unfortunate how many had to give their lives for your dream to come to pass.”



Jeanette flinched, and then smacked her lips as she folded her trembling hands.  “Blood now brings us peace in the future.”



“I think that is the one thing we agree on, Grandmother.  It is time to build a better, peaceful future.”  The time for petty revenge is over.  Queen Jeanette doesn’t matter anymore, and I am first among the Kings of the Western Kingdoms.  I can ensure that the violence of this war doesn’t happen again.  Perhaps the restless spirits will find rest in peace.  “Rest now, Your Highness.  I hope you feel better.”



****



The small settlement was coming close to completion, or at least, the first phase of it was.  A long hall had been erected, as well as numerous pens, stalls, and stables.  The beginnings of a market were taking shape, and construction on a manor house was well underway.  The sound of it was keeping the baby awake, and Brigitte’s back ached from constantly carrying the large child around.  Her nipples ached from nursing the child back to sleep each time the pounding hammers woke her.



Brigitte didn’t mind though.  It was all part of being a mother, and she had many more years of it to look forward to.  Little Amara was to be the first of many, she hoped.  The beginning of a dynasty that would one day reclaim her reclaim her homeland.  She would breed many strong sons and daughters, and their sons would all be raised here in the new trading station built with the wealth plundered from Zentara.



“She’s hungry today” Markoz remarked as he stroked the back of Amara’s head. 



“Like her father.  She is going to conquer the March when she’s older.”  Brigitte cooed and kissed the baby’s forehead.



Markoz made a sound, but didn’t protest further.  He indulged Brigitte in a lot, but didn’t put much stock in her ideas for the role women should play in orc society.  “Her brothers and sons will build a new empire here.  The Western orcs need to consolidate their Kingdoms, but eventually they will expand into the March.  When they do, they’ll find more than they bargained for.”



“It may happen sooner than that.  Several tribes have already been hit.”



“Reprisals.  They should have come deeper into the Badlands like we did.”  Markoz replied.



Zentara had launched several small scale raids into the Angrian March, attacking any tribe they could find.  Markoz had warned them that it would happen, but once the horde disbanded they weren’t obligated to follow him anymore.  Most had agreed with Markoz though and traveled further into the March.  They had plundered all they could from the West and sought to build new fortunes further east.



“While we don’t have to deal with that, we still have our own troubles.  The black orcs are not taking us building a new trade post lightly.”  Brigitte said.  The trade routes through the Angrian March were well established, and by building a new outpost they were taking trade from existing settlements.  Fighting had already broken out between the black orcs native to the region and their own tribe.



“I should hope not” Markoz laughed, “I might have agreed to found a trading post as a more stable home, but I’m not ready to turn merchant just yet.  I still have a few more fights left in me and the orcs here make just as good a target as any.”



“More gold and treasure than you’ll ever know what to do with and you still want to crush skulls!”  Brigitte sighed in exasperation and turned her attention to Amara, “You’re going to be better than that, aren’t you darling?”



Markoz just laughed.  “If you want our grandchildren to take Sandora back one day they’ll have to bash more than a few heads in.  What is it humans say, ‘violence begets violence’?  If you want your grandchildren to be warriors, they will need fathers who are warriors.  And those warriors will need experience with blood and combat.”



“They’ll need gold, weapons, and armor that wasn’t stolen from someone else.  Industry, economy, and organization.  All the things they’ll get from an established settlement and trading outpost.”



“Then it’s a good thing I have you to take care of all that while I teach our sons how to fight.”



“We do get on well together” Brigitte smiled and stepped out of the hall to watch the construction.  “And even if they never do reconquer Sandora, we’ll build something better for them here.”



Codex Entry On the History of the Kingdom of Angria: In the 186th year of the Age of the Orc Dominion, King Orogoth of Sandora established a foothold in the Angrian March and began using his magic to transform the arid grassland into fertile farmland in order to expand his Kingdom, which was the smallest of the Western Kingdoms.  While initially successful in transforming the terrain, his efforts were quickly disrupted by orc raiders led by Gogoth, who claimed to be the descendent of Princess Brigitte and the true heir to the Kingdom of Sandora.



Despite the advantage of sorcery, Gogoth led a successful guerilla campaign against Sandora by assassinating his wizards and harrying his supply lines.  While Gogoth ultimately did not reclaim the throne of Sandora, he did achieve recognition of the new Kingdom of Angria from Emperor Visidian.  Gogoth’s tactics changed warfare in the Western Kingdoms, as first seen in the Battle of Lemongrass where…



****



The warm sun streamed down on her face for the first time in a week.  The rain had seemed endless while the uncharacteristically violent spring storm battered their galley, and more than once Sylvia despaired and thought their ship would surely go down.  The sky had gone as dark as the Abyss, but they had made it through the maelstrom. 



“Is the storm really over?” Henry the younger asked.  He managed to suppress the quiver in his voice, but Sylvia noticed the whiteness in his knuckles as he gripped the side of the ship.



“This one is, yes.  There may be more before we reach the Eastern Kingdoms.” 



“Because I read that if you travel into the middle of a storm it gets calm, but as you keep going you run into it again.”  This time Henry’s voice betrayed his fear.  The boy had been valiantly trying to be a brave young Prince and a rock for his mother and brother to lean on during their voyage.  But he was still young, not even a squire yet.



“This isn’t the eye of the storm, Henry, it is well and truly over.”



“How long will we have to wait for father once we arrive in the Eastern Kingdoms?”  James, her other son, asked.



“His ship won’t be long behind us” Sylvia replied with an edge in her voice.  Henry wasn’t well enough to travel when their ship departed, but he insisted they leave.  Belkor’s army was in hot pursuit and Henry didn’t want to risk them getting caught.  The doctor said that Henry had needed as much time as possible before traveling, even if only a few extra days.



Sylvia hadn’t liked the sound of that at all.  If it wasn’t safe for him to travel with them it wouldn’t be safe to travel in the days it would take before the orcs arrived.  The doctor wouldn’t give them odds on his chance of surviving the trip, but she knew it wasn’t good.  All she could do was hope, hope for the best.



“It will be nice to be back home” James said, with a simplicity that suddenly struck her.



The Eastern Kingdoms were more a home to him than Heste was.  Even more so for the younger Henry.  They could go back to their old lives from before the war.  They had enough gold, and if it were invested wisely they could live comfortably.  The younger Henry would never be King, and Jeanette would never get what the comeuppance she deserved, but at least her children would be safe and could be happy.



If Henry made it too, it would be enough.



Codex Entry on the Ousten Family:  …the Ousten family has never overtly returned to the Kingdom of Heste, but a number of pretenders have cropped up in the intervening years.  To a one they have all been petty bandits and pirates, but they have kept the legend of the Ousten family alive, and even now in the human villages they speak of the day that the Ousten family will return to reclaim Heste from the orcs.



****



6 Months Later



Anne groaned in spite of herself as Amelie rubbed her swollen feet.  She was only doing this for her mother, or at least, that’s what she told herself.  The life of submission that Amelie was subjected to had corrupted her completely.  The former Queen was perpetually horny, needy, and submissive.  She only managed to get herself together enough to lead an army because Augras commanded her to, and she loved following orders.  Anne shifted on the edge of the couch, her silk robe falling open to reveal her naked body underneath.



“How does that feel, Mistress?” Amelie cooed as she worked her strong fingers into Amelie’s foot, kneading the sides and back to her tendon.  Amelie looked up at Anne from her knees, passed her daughter’s swollen belly to her soft heart shaped face framed by her light brown hair.  Anne’s breasts were beginning to swell with pregnancy, but they were nowhere close to Amelie’s own enlarged melons.  “My feet would get so sore when I was pregnant with you.”



“Mmm…” Anne purred absently.  It did feel good to have her foot massaged: she just had to ignore the fact that it was her half-naked mother doing it.  And not think about what would happen next.  Rubbing her feet always made Amelie pathetically horny, and it killed Anne to watch her mother pant and squirm with need. 



Her other foot stirred, slowly creeping between Amelie’s legs until finding the wet delta.  Amelie was already soaked, well, she was almost always soaked these days, and it didn’t take long for a slick film to spread across the top of her foot as Amelie began humping it eagerly.



Guilt began to wrap around her heart as she glanced down to see her mother’s pussy melting against her foot and heard Amelie’s whorish moans of enjoyment.  But the look of bliss on her mother’s face, the look of satisfaction and relief made her push aside the lingering shame.  It’s a mercy, she told herself, not a sex act. 



“Oh Mistress, that’s so good! Mmmm!”  Amelie squeezed Anne’s foot more firmly as she clamped her thighs around her daughter’s foot and held it against her slit.  Her clit pulsed against it as she thrust down against it even tighter.  Amelie raised Anne’s other foot, opening her legs and letting her see her daughter’s royal cunt.



The bare nether lips left Anne’s sex completely on display.  Amelie wrapped her lips around her daughter’s big toe and began to suckle it while flickering her tongue back and forth as if to practice feasting on Anne’s pussy.  Her tongue rolled around the toe, slipping between it and the next one and rubbed up and down, before tickling the underside as she worked her lips up and down the length.



“Mother, ah, I didn’t give you leave for that!”  Anne admonished Amelie, but the look of dejection on her mother’s face crushed her resolve.  She pulled her foot back slightly and changed the angle so her big toe pushed into Amelie’s slick and needy slit.  Anne was rewarded with her mother’s husky moan, but she knew it was more from the humiliation and depravity of being fucked by her daughter’s toe than from tactile pleasure.  After getting fucked by a minotaur a toe is nothing.



“Thowwy” Amelie murmured around the toe before adding another one inside her mouth.  She sucked harder and added more spit.  Her slurping got sloppier proportionally to the pleasure growing in her loins as she fucked herself against Anne’s foot.  The expression on her face was clearly not one of regret though, as Amelie clearly reveled in the chance to kiss and lick her daughter’s foot while humping the other.



The door to Anne’s solar creaked and heavy boots thumped on the floor.  “Getting into it again already?”  Augras laughed as he watched the mother and daughter pleasure each other.  He stood in the doorway, his eyes moving from Anne’s flushed face down to her swollen belly, and then her naked slit before continuing down those long, lithe thighs to switch between Amelie’s mouth wrapped around two toes and the other plunging into Amelie’s pussy.  “No cumming, Amelie, we don’t want you to get too spoiled now, do we?”



Amelie mewled in frustration as the command not to climax only made her hotter.  Of course she would obey though.  Anticipating Augras’ wishes, she pulled Anne’s toes from her mouth and kissed her daughter’s ankle, then licked up her calf and thigh as she headed towards Anne’s sex.  At the same time, Amelie reached down to Anne’s other foot and guided a second and third toe into her slit, stuffing her sex even further.



Anne reached out to Augras as he approached and undid his trousers.  She pulled them down, freeing his already stiff cock from the tight confines.  Once it’s free Anne leaned to the side, allowing Augras to slip onto the sofa and lift her up onto his lap.



By the time Anne settled onto his hips with the cock jutting up between her thighs Amelie was already there.  No one needed to say anything; they all knew what their roles were.  Amelie kissed the base of Augras’ cock, just above his balls, and then began licking upwards along the thick shaft.  She drooled messily onto it, getting it nice and wet to plunge into her daughter’s pussy.



Amelie didn’t wrap her lips around Augras’ shaft: that was a pleasure she had to earn, to be rewarded with.  Instead, she covered it with her spit and smeared it around with her tongue.  A soft moan escaped her lips as her mind focused on that.  My spit is going to be deep inside Anne’s pussy!



Augras wrapped his grey hands around Anne’s pale waist and lifted her up as his wife spread her legs.  Amelie gripped his cock at the base and guided the slanted tip right against Anne’s pussy.  Her lips were already engorged, but Amelie spread her daughter’s labia apart to make it even easier for Augras to push inside.



The new King of Thesta didn’t wait long.  He slammed Anne down on his cock, burying it deep inside her with no preamble or delay.  He then immediately started slamming his cock into her again and again, vigorously fucking her as Amelie watched on in envy and lust.



Anne’s tits bounce wildly as she rode Augras’ cock.  It had taken time, but she had come to enjoy her husband’s furious fucking, even with her mother watching.  Participating.  Her hands reached out to Amelie’s head to give her mother what she knew Amelie wanted.



Amelie flicked out her tongue and licked the junction between Augras’ cock and her daughter’s cunt.  It swirled up and down, darting back and forth between their bodies and lashing both at the same time as she pressed her mouth to Anne’s genitals.  Amelie’s licks got harder and faster as she brushed it from Augras’ cock to Anne’s clit.  Her daughter’s juices ran down her tongue, coated her lips and chin and flooded her mouth as she feasted between Anne’s legs.  Each of her daughter’s whimpered moans made her lick harder and faster.  As Amelie’s excitement grew, she added more toes into her snatch, until all five of them were stretching her slick inner walls.  She began to fuck herself hard on Anne’s foot as she moaned torturously from being unable to give in to the lust and explode in climax.



Anne was under no such restriction, and soon the attentions of her husband and mother drove her over the edge into climax.  Augras continued to fuck her, pounding another climax, and then another into Anne until finally he released as well.  His thick cock shot blast after blast of hot cum into her pregnant body as she cavorted on his dick, her wild gyrations milking out all his seed until they finally collapsed on the couch.



Amelie continue to whimper piteously as she fucked herself silly on Anne’s foot.  Finally, Anne turned to Augras and kissed his tusk.  “Please let her cum, I think she’s earned it.  She’s been so good lately.”



Augras smiled at his wife as his cum slowly trickled out of her pussy.  “Fine fine, I can’t deny you when you ask so nicely.  But you are going to spoil her…” with a laugh he looked down at Amelie, “alright my little slave, you can climax.  Go on, cum on your own daughter’s foot!”



Amelie grabbed the back of Anne’s foot with two hands and slammed it deeper into her pussy as she climaxed, throwing her head back and moaning wildly as ecstasy washed through her body.  It wasn’t easy, this new life before her, but she could take it one orgasm at a time.



****



The incessant chattering of the courtiers in the hall made Jeanette’s head ring like the noon bell, and created a pounding in her head that threatened to make her vision blur and go dark.  They all want something, she thought, all they do is take.  Jeanette blocked them out, focusing her attention on the empty throne beside her.  Turogg’s throne.  Her husband’s face had grown hazy in the long years since his passing, but she still remembered the furtive fucking in the closet on that first day they had met.



The pain of his loss stabbed at her, a pain surpassed a moment later when she remembered that it was Grotok’s throne, not Turogg’s.  My son.  Jeanette fought back tears in her eyes.  I cannot cry, I cannot show weakness she raged internally.  The only one who could help her through this grief was Susannah, but instead of relieving the burden she added to it.  Even Susannah has been taken from me.  Jeanette curled her fingers around the arms of her throne, digging her fingernails into the gold enamel until her knuckles turned white.  I have nothing left.



Someone approached the throne, finally drawing Jeanette’s gaze from the empty chair at her side.  The man, his face too blurry for Jeanette to make out, began to talk but she still paid him no mind.  At least Jasmara lives.  She’ll return home in time.  She has to, I’m all she has left.



“…congratulate you on your son’s accession to the throne of Sandora.”



Jeanette didn’t know whether to be proud or appalled that Vilknar was to get the throne of Sandora.  I gave that ingrate everything, but does he render me the respect I deserve?  She waved her hand, acknowledging but dismissing the praise from whichever courtier was trying to flatter her.  He is not as bad as Augras though.  Augras is trying to usurp everything I’ve built.  He thinks he can lead the Western Kingdoms?  They’re mine!



The Queen fell into a violent coughing fit, and her vision darkened again.  She quaffed the goblet of water a servant hastily brought her.  Water was all she could drink now.  Wine could set her stomach on fire, let alone ale or mead.  One by one all the joys in life were being stripped from her.  Fine foods, fine clothing, sex, youth, beauty, and ultimately her health had left her, leaving behind only the cold hard throne on which she sat.



More courtiers came up to talk, but she didn’t pay any more attention to them than she did the first one.  Her thoughts were on the Western Kingdoms.  Her family sat on every throne, but even that didn’t make her feel secure.  Who will rule Zentara when I am gone, she wondered, and who will keep the peace between Trogar and Belkor?  Or Trogar and his son, for that matter.  Or Belkor and Augras.  Who will make a claim on Zentara?  Will Augras try to claim Deznessuian when his father passes?  And Vilknar isn’t married, nor ever shown any interest in getting married.



Her family’s rule was as secure as it had ever been, but as unstable as ever.  In a sudden flash of clarity, she realized it wouldn’t last.  Even if it takes 400 years it our rule will end.  Nothing lasts forever.