“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.
