“Yer certain tha’ you information be right?”
Aion rolled his eyes at the dwarf as he rowed silently in the boat. “Of course I’m sure. Her name is Bellany. My source of information is reliable.”
A grunt escaped the dwarf as he slipped his oar again into the water. “Tha’ funny,” Cormac said, “ ‘cause everyone I’ve checked with in town don’t think th’ merchant exists.”
The priest laughed. “Who have you been checking with, the whores? I haven’t seen you leave the brothel since we docked!”
A hand grabbed both of them by the dark hoods they wore. “Shut up!” Lahk hissed, his voice vicious. “The entire point of this exercise is to not be seen until we arrive at the house. If you fools keep talking…” He gave their heads a shove, slightly rocking the boat. “Stop talking and pull quietly!”
Above the canal the lights of a manor were well lit, torches blazing against the night. The house was well guarded, so said Aion, so the plan was to make shore inside the estate without any notice at all. Things would no doubt get messily violent after that, but at least the sneak attack would allow them to avoid needing to fight to breach the gate, and prevent any opportunists from attacking the small group while they were otherwise occupied.
Cormac and Aion, neither famous for their gentle touch, grumbled amongst themselves as they tried with little success to quiet the splash of the oars. Lahk suffered through it gracefully, knowing they were doing the best they could. He valued them for their martial prowess and loyalty, not for their skill as sailors. Still, he would be glad when this business was ended and he was on dry land again, sword in hand.
Lahk nodded with satisfaction as the two put the ship up against the canal wall by the estate, then turned to face the wizard. “Now, Helios.”
The wizard sighed, pulling back his robe sleeves. “This work is beneath me.”
Cormac snorted. “No’ still mopin’ ’bout being dragged ‘way from yer blond cunt, are ye wiz’rd?”
A snarl from the high priest shut everyone up, and Helios began to chant softly, his hands tracing invisible lines in the air. Ahead of the ship the stone started to melt away, forming an upward sloping tunnel that ended in darkness, just an inch or two beneath the lawn. “Use magic to make a staircase,” the wizard mumbled under his breath. “No appreciation for the art.”
The high priest stepped from the boat, taking a few long and steady breaths to consider his course, then gestured for the rest of the party to follow, creeping up the tunnel.
Three Years Ago, Daggerport
The city was not what it once was.
When last the elf had visited Daggerport, the city was swelling beneath a crush of refugees who had fled from the destruction at Maithum Falls. The scent of offal and burning filth had filled the air, and the city was swarming with thieves, murderers, and the desperate, and frequently a mixture of the three. Everywhere the druid had looked she could see little but sickness and famine and the loss of a long, brutal war.
Matters had not changed for the better.
The refugees remained and had even multiplied, only now their residence had become permanent, with ramshackle wooden structures soaking and sagging beneath the rain and rot. The sewers could no more afford the population now that they could then, and the reek of waste and unwashed flesh welled up around her almost like a physical barrier, a curtain that had to be pushed aside as she walked, and sometimes the flies actually did.
A body lay still and cold on the street, leaning up against the wood of the building with a bottle still clenched in his hand. From the smell, he had been there for days without anyone pausing to move him, though the pockets of his threadbare pants had been turned out.
The city groaned beneath the weight of its accumulated depravity and degeneracy, and Lissa felt sick.
Bellany was in fine spirits this evening after having put her daughters to bed. She had this feeling that this winter would turn out to be quite profitable, even after the protection rackets she would have to pay. The good from the east had also arrived earlier this day, and Helen and her husband had assured her that more would be coming soon, since there would be a notable absence of bandits in the area for a time. She smiled, remembering the tale.
The woman had never heard of such stories since the war, or maybe not since she had spoken to… well, since long ago. Bellany resolutely put the red-haired elf out of her mind. Now was not a time to mourn, not with the good news she had received. There was little enough good news these days to waste any.
Tomorrow she would drink to her friend. Tonight she would celebrate her good fortune.
Perhaps this would be the year she would make enough to take her daughters and leave this foul city, perhaps found the city that she had always dreamed of. A place free from the predations of Sanguinar’s foul touch. The city of Freehold. Perhaps it was at last possible, a dream that hadn’t been a presence in her thoughts since…
‘Damn, there go my thoughts again,’ Bellany chided herself, brushing her golden hair from her face. Soon she would be gone from this foul place and she could finally get on with her life. Bellany wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but she knew that she wanted it. Did it mean finding another husband, and more children? Having a position of power in government, rightfully deserved? Or did it mean simply escaping the escalating depravity and filth around her and finding a safe place for her daughters, letting everything else fall where Caer willed after that?
“Another husband,” she muttered to herself. The idea had some appeal, and she had been undeniably lonely since Albrecht had been taken by plague five winters ago. She was still young, she thought, barely over thirty and still a beauty. Perhaps it was something to look at, once she escaped this place. She certainly would not find another lover worth the name in this dark town.
What awaited her after tonight was a mystery, she decided, and it could wait. The season was not over yet, and Bellany knew well how quickly things could go wrong in this city if she was not careful, and move her merchandise with extreme care. She knew the hardships of Daggerport perhaps better than anyone alive, knew all about the tremendous stench and hungry brigands and murderous, treasonous slavers of the Lord of Suffering. She knew that her dream was still a long way from completion, but still she somehow felt that the world today had changed for the better. And Bellany sang to herself and danced — the season was not too harsh, her shipments had begun to arrive, and all the world seemed beautiful and full of possibilities.
Sanguinar was behind this, she knew.
Not only had the fool ignited the suffering in his mad quest for power, but the war he had begun had deepened it, enriched it, somehow made it more full and permanent like a scar on untouched skin, something gruesome welling from a thing of beauty. Despite the Lord of Suffering’s death in the conflict, Lissa thought that he couldn’t be that upset with the way it had ended, with the suffering that he had inflicted upon Silas, for decades and decades to come.
Sanguinar’s followers were as culpable as the corpse they still dedicated themselves to, she decided. When she had left Caladwen she hadn’t been able to believe her eyes, but years later she had to accept the truth that the elves had not been aware of, or willing to embrace. The church of their great adversary was alive and well, and swollen with members. The depth of suffering in Silas made recruitment easy, the promise of a regular wage and protection, the approval of a full belly and a safe bed easily overwhelming any objections of a man’s conscience.
The church had rebuilt its army, a force nearly as large and powerful as the one that that fought Caladwen for most of a decade until a score of years ago, and in her heart Lissa knew that the elves would not be ready to face such a force again for centuries, if ever.
The darkness of the church covered the city like a blanket, smothering all light and hope like a flame consumed all of the air, leaving nothing but a festering rot of evil, the boils of a lethal plague.
And the greatest of those boils was the ‘brothel.’
Bellany’s house was indeed palatial, Lahk saw, even by the standards of the church. The fine building was two stories tall, with more than a dozen rooms. A great sweeping stairway dominated the foyer, which also sported a domed alcove that held two grand wooden double doors, each decorated with the carving of one half of the ancient royal crest of Silas. When the doors were closed, the regal image was clear for anyone to see, as was the implication that she considered herself a honorary member, a bastion of the rule of law in a kingdom spinning from control.
A second staircase in back led to the drawing room that overlooked the rocky cove and the sea, out over a lawn of kept grass that went to the very edge of her property before dropping into a sheer drop, the wall fading down into a canal out into the bay, and it was on this lawn that Lahk and his band now crept.
This was Daggerport, after all — a city of violent and brutal crime, so like most of the larger houses, Bellany’s employed personal guards. The merchant had hired a score, trained soldiers and mercenaries, many of whom had fought for a decade or more in the internecine, gang fueled battleground of the city below. They were friends as much as hired mercenaries, guests as much as guards, and though they took their jobs to protect the estate seriously, they couldn’t help but be somewhat lax about their work. Every day was inevitably uneventful, as no one dared attack such a well defended house.
Thus, the group helped out with chores, working with Bellany at repairing the shingles blown away by a sea wind, or with the nearly constant painting of the house, lest the moist air rot the wood. They cooked and they cleaned. Sometimes they did not even carry their weapons.
They were completely unprepared for what would befall the house this night, the high priest knew.
Six of the guards were already dead, killed silently under sword and axe of the invaders. A seventh, a woman, had been knocked unconscious and bound for shipment back to the brothel when this was over. Steadily the group worked its way around the walls of the property until they reached the gate, silencing another guard with a dagger to the back of his heart. Aion unlatched the walled gate, and grim forms in black armor slid into the vulnerable property, soldiers loyal to the church of Sanguinar.
With a crash the main door to the house was turned to splinters and invaders rushed in, weapons drawn.
One of the soldiers hit the manor’s doors in a dead run, his shoulder splintering wood and tearing it free of the chain anchors. A guard behind the door was thrown back and to the floor and the invaders rushed into the house, weapons drawn. Lahk stepped through after them, his bodyguard Cormac as ever at his side. With a swift and sure cut Blackwand lay the man’s throat open, blue fire erupting in the dark blade’s wake.
Inside the house, soldiers began to shout and he could hear a woman screaming.
“Glory to Sanguinar,” Aion whispered. “Glory to Lahk.”
The brothel was the center of the evil here, Lissa knew.
The thought of a woman selling her body disgusted her, but she accepted that the world was not a kind place. So many had died during the war and mostly men, leaving families broken and without income. Then had come the sickness, the shortage of food, and the desperation as too many people competed for too few resources. In times as desperate as these a woman might not be too discerning in the method she used to feed herself and her children, or to gain shelter.
Indeed, the while the thought of a woman whoring herself made Lissa taste bile, she would not judge the woman who chose that path. It was not her place.
But what was going on in this brothel, she also knew, was not prostitution.
Sanguinar’s lackeys had absorbed all vice along the area of destitution, folding the entirety of it into their own operations. Any intoxicants, from alcohol to hallucinogenics, were now controlled by the church. Any place where they were served, transported, or processed paid a steep tax to the church for their ‘protection,’ and any who did not pay quickly learned that the rotten wood of Daggerport burned as easily as any other. Gambling houses fell under the church’s direct control as well, and those who attempted to buck that control were usually found in a ditch soon after, drowned in their own blood through slashed necks.
And prostitutes were replaced by slaves.
Bellany heard clearly the sounds of battle from below, sounds that ended her song. Having lived her entire life in the city of Daggerport, having witnessed a great many brawls and the deaths of friends and enemies alike, the woman understood the gist of what was happening below.
“By the gods,” she muttered, letting out a wail before she could bite the sound off. The merchant rushed to the room’s door, cracked it, peeked out, then swung it wide. She paused only long enough to kick off her hard shoes, knowing they would give her away, then padded quietly along the corridor between the wall and the banister, heading rapidly to the other part of the house, where her daughters now slept. She hugged the wall, not wanting to be spotted from the foyer below, and that, she could tell from the noises of battle, was where the intruders were.
Had she been alone, she would have taken this opportunity to attempt to flee, but with her Mara, Sarah, and Emerald in the house, the woman’s only thoughts were for their safety. Past the front stairs, Bellany turned down a side passage and ran full out, cutting through her personal bedroom to the back staircase.
Down she went, holding her breath with every step, for she had no way of knowing if others might be in the house, perhaps even in the room below. She heard a noise above her and understood that she had few options, so she pushed right through the door into the elaborate drawing room. One of the windows was open across the wide room. A chill breeze was blowing in, just catching the edge of one opened drape, fluttering it below the sash tie, and the blond merchant shuddered in the sudden cold.
She turned for the room’s main doors, leading to a corridor that would lead to Mara’s room. There were side rooms off that corridor, including a passage to the cellar which held a chute into the sewers. Disgusting though the thought may be, if she and her children could get there, they could vanish down into the filthy sewers and swim out to the harbor and relative safety. She rushed to the doors and cracked them open, but slammed them immediately and dropped the locking bar across them when she saw the approach of hulking figures in dark armor. She heard running steps on the other side, followed by a tremendous crash as someone hurled himself against the locked double doors.
Bellany glanced all around, to the stairs and the open window, not knowing where she should run. The doors got hit again and started to crack. Bellany heard powerful blows against the wood. The woman retreated. Then came some running footsteps, and someone threw himself against the doors, bursting them open as the portal transformed into a pile of kindling.
A man entered then, a glowing blue blade held in his hand, dark eyes shining beneath a cowl over his face. “Well, well, pretty one,” he said with a wicked smile. “You’re not thinking of leaving before the party is over, are you?”
Bellany turned for the stairs but didn’t even start that way, seeing yet another soldier slowly descending, eying her lewdly with every step. Bellany considered the window behind her, the one that she used to spend so many hours at watching the reflection of the stars on the dark waters. She couldn’t possibly get out and away without being caught, but she honestly considered that route anyway, thought of running full speed and throwing herself down onto the rocks seeming a merciful end compared to the one the brutes seemed to be offering… but then one of her daughters screamed from elsewhere in the house, and she hesitated.
“What a pleasant surprise,” the soldier with the glowing sword offered as he turned to face the scream. The other soldier had reached the bottom of the stairs by then, Bellany’s hesitation costing her the suicidal escape. The brute caught her easily with one huge arm, pinning her tightly to his armored chest as more of the soldiers entered the room, laughing and howling as she screamed.
“She’s a tender one,” the brute holding her said with a lewd chuckle, and he gave the woman a squeeze.
“Bring her,” the man with the sword said. “We have a party to arrange.”
Slavery had long been outlawed in Silas, but with the fall of the Royal house, the laws of the land had lapsed where the citizens did not have the strength to enforce them.
The church of Sanguinar was free to do what it willed, and in this case, what it willed was the wanton suffering of women. No longer were desperate woman forced to sell themselves for food and shelter, for instead they lead the lives of slaves to the church… so long as they were still fit to be raped.
Every prostitute in the city had been arrested by their army and forced into the brothel they had made their temple in the city’s core, a dungeon of cold stone, filled by the wailing of unwilling women. Every beautiful girl the slavers saw, every young piece of flesh they desired and had the strength to take, the church laid claim to until the cells of the prison were filled with enslaved whores. If a man wanted to pay a woman for sex, he had no choice but to pay the Church of Sanguinar for the privilege to rape one of their prisoners.
Some men, their consciences broken enough by the years of deprivation and desperation and depravity, were happy to do so, enjoying a chance to inflict on another the pain that they had been forced to endure and eager to find something in the city of the damned to enjoy. Worse, however, were the men who began to be pushed into a world of evil by society. The enslavement of so many women, combined with the crime and murder of the vile city, had fundamentally changed the balance of men and women in Daggerport. It was unlikely that a man could find a wife, and if a family wanted children, there was little way to get them besides playing the church’s game and paying them many months of wages to allow you to rape one of their slaves, then to pay to “protect” her from further beatings and rapes until a child was born.
The act was evil, but Lissa could see its existence taking a toll on even truly good men. Good men were forced to exist alone, without the ability to court a woman of their own or have children, while evil men grew in power by breaking the morals they held dear, and they had no power to do anything about it. Time would not be their ally but rather their damnation, as biology and envy would further drive them to dark thoughts, grinding them down. It would continue until one day the evil of one distasteful act, to bring a child they wanted so badly into the world, would seem small indeed. They could justify the vile deed as necessity, the ends being worth the means, and then they would be lost.
And their children, the children they had bought and paid for with souls and the coins of their purse both, would be raised in a world where this was normal, and accepted.
Lissa would not let this stand. The druid would end this.
Bellany, still held by the soldier’s arms from behind, was dragged through the house back to her bedroom. When she entered a group of soldiers was just finishing hogtying her three daughters naked on the bed, their eyes wide and pleading as they squealed through the gags holding their mouths open.
Mara, the eldest, was a copy of her mother at her age. At only eighteen, she was growing into a beautiful and strong woman, with golden hair just like Bellany’s. She was tall like her mother as well, with a long form that made her legs seem to stretch forever. She had started wearing a bra at eleven, and her breasts had only grown since then, maturing into even larger tits than her mother had.
Sarah, her middle child, was two years her sister’s junior at sixteen, and a wild girl. Most of Bellany’s headaches came from the bratty Sarah, and the blond girl took perverse pleasure in driving her family crazy with her antics. Her full lips trembled wetly as she lay there, all her bravado stripped away by the soldiers.
Emerald, her precious youngest daughter, was only fifteen. Her hair was such a dark blond that it seemed almost green in the light of the candle fixtures, the inspiration for her name. Her breasts were tiny by comparison to her sisters and mother, but she had her eldest sister’s long and strong legs, and a beautiful, pert ass that begged for the touch of a lash.
“Are you insane! Release me!” Bellany yelled, her fury at seeing her daughters so bound overwhelming the fear that had paralyzed the merchant earlier.
The man who seemed to be in charge slapped her. “Quiet, whore,” he said, resting his hand over her mouth and feeling her screams and rapid breaths into his palm. “There’ll be time for you to yell all you want soon, but first we have things to take care of.”
Abruptly the priest’s hand swung out and slapped Bellany hard across the face. It must have been the surprise as much as the pain, but the blow brought her to silence. “You done?” Tears flooded the merchant’s eyes, but she nodded. “Search the house, make sure there is no one else hiding here, and find anything worth taking.” he ordered, pointing at a group of three soldiers who were standing around staring at the three bound teenagers, their intentions plain on their face. He nodded to another man, also wearing the armor of a priest of Sanguinar. “Aion, make sure they don’t fuck anything up.” Aion looked once, regretfully, at the trio of girls and then left, shoving the soldiers violently in front of him.
“You’re going to pay for this…” Bellany said in a fierce whisper.
The soldier holding her from behind suddenly squeezed, crushing the air from her lungs as he pressed her arms savagely into her sides. “You dare to threaten the high priest?” he said into her ear. “That is the last mistake many make, and if you get yourself killed before I take a piece, I’d never forgive you. I might take it out on your daughters.”
The man giving the orders was High Priest Lahk, the head of the church of Sanguinar? Bellany felt her blood growing cold. “You wouldn’t dare…”
Abruptly Lahk grabbed her hair and wrenched her from the soldier’s grip, dragging her out of the room and onto the balcony overlooking the entry hall. Her hair burned as he tore at it, pushing her firmly into the rail that stood between her and a fall.
Down in the hall was a horrifying scene, at least to the merchant Bellany. Pieces of crushed armor lay strewn about the hall as two women were raped, two of her own guards. Twenty three year old Dany, the toughest human woman Bellany had ever met, lay weeping atop a black armored soldier who had freed his cock and was feeding it into her pussy. Another one of the invaders was on top of her, his cock rammed to the root in her asshole. Bellany had an unobstructed view of the double-penetration from above as the soldier girl tossed her brown hair back and forth, shaking her head viciously in denial as she screamed.
On the other side of the hall, Petra suffered. The soldiers had hung her from a rope they wound around the rail from the balcony, hauling her a few inches off the ground as they beat her with the belts their scabbards had hung from. Bellany watched in horror as the terrified girl struggled to move herself out of the way of the striking leather, biting into her calves, her thighs, her ass and back and tits. Petra had moved here from a village nearby specifically to join her household guard, because the pay was good and she wanted to work for someone who was trying to be a bastion of civilization in the failing nation. Now Bellany could see that the blond guard was suffering for her arrogance in trying.
She gasped and tried to look away from the scene, but Lahk twisted her head back. In the courtyard the two guards raping Dany were thrusting faster and faster. The guard underneath thrust his hips up in a series of rapid jerks as he emptied his load inside the poor guard’s cunt. A moment later, the guard on top roared and tugged his cock from her ass, only to shoot his cum into the still gaping opening. He slipped a finger inside, sliding it in and out as the rectal muscles drew closed again before the guard below her shoved her to her side. Another guard dragged her to him, and within seconds was laying atop the raped brunette, driving himself into her. As Bellany watched one of the black armored soldiers pulled down his pants and walked behind the hanging Petra, and she could tell by the look on the blond woman’s face when he had entered her asshole, and the scream that followed a moment later made the merchant flinch.
“Now do you have any more stupid comments about what I will or won’t do, woman?” Lahk hissed. “Because if you do, I’d be happy to give you further examples.”
“Yes! Yes, I understand!” Bellany sobbed, “but I don’t know what you want! What do you want, please!”
“We’ll get to that later,” Lahk said, pulling her against him and kissed her. He tasted vile, like swallowing ash. He pushed her away from him, in though the door back to her room. She collapsed on the floor. “But for now, what I want is a warm place for my cock, and you’re going to provide one.
Mara was pinned down on the bed, a group of men and a dwarf crowding around her. The soldiers pawed at her helplessly bound body. The red bearded dwarf had both of his filthy hands on her snaked, breasts, roughly groping the tied girl while she wiggled, too horrified to even make a sound as they manhandled her eighteen year old body. Bellany couldn’t look away.
“Cormac, make the slut more comfortable,” Lahk ordered, and the dwarf cut the bonds on Mara’s ankles. Grabbing her long legs firmly in rough hands, he strung the girl cover the corner of the bed, her legs spread wide before being retied to the legs. She began weeping as the men started groping her crotch, fingers sliding into her pussy and asshole immediately.
One soldier grabbed her by her blond hair and twisted her tear-stained face up. “Mara, I just wanted to let you know I’m going to be your first. You’ll take a thousand cocks in your life, but I promise you that you’ll never forget me whore.” As she squirmed and tried to kick the men continued to finger fuck her pink, blond cunt and her tight ass, drawing the first scream from the terrified girl. .
The brutal soldier dropped his pants, exposing his erect cock and positioned it at the entrance to Mara’s virgin cunt.
On the ground beneath the bed, Bellany murmured pitifully.
Bellany couldn’t see much from the ground, but she could certainly hear Mara’s howl of agony and despair as the man’s cock thrust into her eldest daughter popping her cherry. “Virgin bitch!” the guard moaned, hammering deeper into the weeping Mara. “Should be punished for keeping herself so long, she wasted a lot of money she could have whored by now.”
Then, while the soldier lustily fucked her eldest daughter’s cunt, Cormac produced a whip from his belt and backed off from the raped girl. “Hold her shoulders,” he instructed, and two of the waiting soldiers complied. With a roar, he brought the whip across the perfect skin of Mara’s tits.
Her screams filled the room, raw and agonized as Bellany wept for her girl’s fate. The whip snapped again and again and again as the soldier continued the violation of the virgin, Cormac’s rage painting her untouched skin red, doing his best to ruin her firm young breasts while she was broken in for the merciless glory of Sanguinar.
The dwarf hadn’t grown tired of whipping the weeping girl by the time the soldier jammed forward and flooded Mara’s cunt, grunting and swearing, and the second he was clear of her bleeding hole two other soldiers took up their belts and started bringing them down right on top of her recently raped snatch. On and on they whipped the poor girl, paying no attention to her agonized screams as Bellany was pulled to her knees by Lahk’s hand on her throat. Her attempts to squirm away were no more effective than her daughter’s.
“Watching your little girl suffer has me excited, you whore,” Lahk hissed into her ear, “and you are going to do something about it.” His free hand mauled her body, reaching between her firm ass cheeks and her large breasts, squeezing each like he intended to crush it to pulp. As the high priest went around behind the blond merchant, Bellany watched with horror as the men abandoned their beating and one dropped his own pants while the other spread her legs wider and sat on her belly. Mara’s ass cheeks spread, revealing her eighteen year old daughter’s puckered asshole to the soldier’s greedy eyes. The animal spit into his hand, rubbing the saliva onto his cock, staring into the twitching opening.
Lahk tore Bellany’s dress from her body with one savage pull, the fabric ripping loudly into the steamy room. “You are going to fuck me now, while we watch your slutty daughter over there give us a show with her little girl’s ass.
Bellany let out a sob as he spoke, feeling the tip of his cock pressing against her cunt. With little lubrication but his spit he thrust into the blond merchant, enjoying her sobbing as she watched her eldest daughter violated before her eyes. Screams ripped their way from her throat as Bellany’s dry snatch was raped, and Mara echoed those scream for a few more seconds before another soldier stepped up before the bound girl and stuck his cock in front of her face.
Mara shook her head desperately in refusal but the man didn’t care in the slightest, grabbing at her golden hair and using it to impale her open mouth on his cock, turning her shaking of the head into an affirmative nod up and down on his cock. Bellany had to watch as the dirty cock became clean in her daughter’s mouth, glistening with the sobbing girl’s saliva.
“Isn’t that sweet,” Lahk laughed. “Little Mara’s sucking her first cock, and it’s a nasty one. That’s the way you teach a stuck up rich bitch who thinks she’s too good to whore for us.” The high priest punched Bellany in the back of her head, and the merchant’s vision swam for a moment. “Women are just a collection of holes, and the sooner you figure it out the happier you’ll be. I bet your daughter won’t have such a high and mighty opinion of herself for too much longer.”
Lahk pulled his cock from her dry pussy then, and Bellany barely had time to thank the gods for their mercy before the huge cock started pressing at her ass. She screamed, begging for him to do anything but that but the man was relentless, driving himself into the tight hole one agonizing inch at a time. “Oh this is much better,” he gasped, “Your husband never fucked you here, did he slut? Your cunt shows the proof of your kids, but your back door is just as tight as your daughter’s must be.” Lahk held Bellany’s head tightly with a single strong hand as she screamed in pain and humiliation, the high priest driving his invading cock through the clenching ring of anal muscles and plunging to the root in the blond mother’s rectum.
On the bed the soldier rammed his thick shaft into Mara’s raw asshole for a final time and shot his load deep up inside her, bringing new screams to the abused girl as she felt the violation. Blood and semen leaked from both of the savaged girl’s hole as the third man came, pulling his cleaned shaft from between Mara’s lips and painting her face with his jism, mixing it with the sweat and tears and spit that glistened on the the eighteen-year-old’s agonized face. Mara’s sobs filled her room, chorusing with the weeping of her sisters, still tied on the bed and forced to watch their oldest siblings rape.
“Take her downstairs,” Lahk instructed. Grinning, the men cut Mara from the bed and tugged her to her feet, pushing her ahead of them as they walked out on the balcony where the rape of the two guard women was still ongoing.
“Fresh cunt coming down!” One of them yelled, then gave the girl a solid kick on her ass that sent her tumbling down the carpeted stairs, to the cheers of the soldiers below, thrilled to have another piece of meat to abuse.
“Don’ keep th’ other two sluts waitin’,” Cormac roared, and the men jumped all over the duo, undoing their restrictive hogties and holding them down by the raw muscle of a dozen men, pinning the soft flesh of the women firmly to the bed.
Sixteen year old Sarah screamed shrilly as her lean legs were spread wide, a cock already beginning to push into her as she sobbed and begged to no avail, the sounds of her agony viciously snuffed as Cormac pressed his cock into her mouth, making the beautiful blond wretch. Beside her, young Emerald was lifted off the bed, sobbing as the first main disdained her virgin cunt to bugger her, breaking in the fifteen year old by taking her up her ass for the first cock of the young girl’s life. She wasn’t kept waiting long for her virginity to be taken, however as a second man took advantage of her vulnerability to raise her legs and squeeze here between the two of them, piercing her cunt deeply with his own hard member.
Lahk smiled as he raped the sobbing blond merchant to the rhythm of her youngest daughter’s screams.
They called her crazy, but the true insanity would be to let this madness continue.
Lissa didn’t have it in her to walk away from someone in need, and she never had. She had not fought in the war for personal glory, nor even because she believed in the supremacy of her people or cause.
She had served because she was unwilling to let someone else die because she refused.
She had served because she was unwilling to see what the world would become if Sanguinar’s mad schemes went unanswered.
She had served to be a shield between the innocent and the suffering they would endure if no one did.
She had served because the horror of killing, of taking away a life that was part of nature’s beautiful balance, was second only to allowing that person to kill an innocent.
She had served because the alternative was unacceptable, and now she would do it again.
The wagon traveled slowly across town in the light of dawn, escorted by the entire unit of black armored soldiers, their armor shining threateningly in the rising sun. A crowd was turning out to watch the procession, and the six nude women tied to the sides of the wagon, Bellany’s family and the two guards. Mocking laughter followed the wagon as it rolled towards the brothel, and a stream of men began to trail after them, already digging in their pockets for money to take a turn with one of the beautiful new whores.
“Did you learn what you wanted, master?” Helios said, his voice still bitter at being pulled away from his blond elf cunt and then being forbidden from joining in the rape of the new slaves.
“The only elf she’d ever known came from the north, from past Haven’s Ford.” Lahk answered, smiling as he played his hands across Blackwand in anticipation. “So that’s where we’re going.”
Bellany looked out with terror at the crowd staring at her and her daughters with undisguised lust, rubbing their growing cocks through their pants. She could see no women anywhere, she realized, no matter where she looked. Only a horde of unwashed, evil men, looking forward to a turn with one of them.
The high priest noted her gaze and laughed. “These men don’t want women. They just want to fuck a whore once in a while.” He grinned, the expression sadistic. “Don’t worry, you’ll fit right in.”
Once Lahk had a destination in mind, he pressed his people with merciless efficiency, wanting to continue his quest for the elven homeland without delay. Four hours later, the high priest and his retinue strode down Killimand street towards the town gate, where a contingent of twenty soldiers awaited his arrival with horses, prepared to ride swiftly for the city of Haven’s Ford, and with luck, Caladwen.
John Drake's Stories 
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