Monstrum: Filly - Part 1
Monstrum: Broodmother - Part 1
Monstrum: Broodmother - Part 2
Tags: Mg, bd, best, gore, magic, nc, ped, rape, reluc, viol
Content: Rape, Monster Rape, Dog Sex, Horse Rape, Young Girls, Magic/Fantasy, Gore, Death, Bondage, Pedophilia
Nela could feel his impatience and boredom through the Bond they shared. She and Jona had been out here for 3 days, and this was the last afternoon of their watch. He was waiting patiently below her, sniffing the wind, but he hadn't yet caught the scent of the scout sent to relieve them. She stared out from her position up in the tree, using her hands to shield her eyes from the sun. The sky was a cloudless blue field stretching over the green ocean of the prairie. Breezes played in gentle waves over the grass, rustling sounds accompanied by the endless buzzing of summer insects. The sound was comforting, hypnotic. The flood of warm sun was coaxing her into a drowsy stupor.
She stretched her thin body back against the trunk, using the discomfort of the rough bark to try to keep alert. The surface of the thick branch she straddled was worn smooth by the many hours that scouts had spent in this tree, keeping watch over the approaches from the West. Nela kicked her dangling legs, counting the time, using the motion to stretch her muscles and get her blood flowing.
A black dot marked the sky in the distance. Jona hadn't smelled anything, but she nocked an arrow in her shortbow anyway. Everything that moved on the prairie, or above it, was her responsibility. The shape flapped in the air, gaining altitude, and then glided against the wind in lazy, wheeling circles. Just a common raptor. She couldn't be too careful though. Harpies were uncommon here, but Vile Buzzards were a problem. The enormous birds liked carrion, but they liked to snatch little girls and bring them back to their nests even more.
With a long sigh, she stretched her arms. The prairie teemed with life: bison, hawks, rodents, deer - and monsters of course, but that was why she was here. The evil creatures seemed to have grown more numerous, and her tribe had doubled the scouting duties to keep them away from the summer territories of the Nadoha. She was 11 years old now, Bonded and fully trained as a Nadoha scout, trusted to watch the land from her post and keep it safe. Jona was here to keep her safe.
She smiled as she felt him at the base of the tree below her, staying hidden in the grass. He had sniffed out a vole's lair, and was optimistically crouching near it, head down, tail thumping with excitement. He was much too well-trained to bark or chase, and would stay hidden until she whistled the clear signal, but he watched the hole anyway, hoping the little rat would poke its head out so he could snap at it.
The scent came to her through Jona's nose, filtered through his perceptions: the summer flower smell of a little girl, like pink lilacs, and the musk of another Canis, both mixed with sweat. Faint whiffs had carried over the grass, giving warning of their arrival. Nela finally spotted them cresting a low hill, the Nadoha girl jogging effortlessly with her doggy companion running at her side.
She gripped the branch with her legs and let herself slide underneath it, hanging upside-down. With a quick push on the trunk, she let go and flipped in the air, landing gracefully on her feet in the tall grass. Her sharp whistle gave Jona the clear signal, and he lunged upwards from where he was hiding, barking playfully. She could see herself as he saw her: mistress, playmate, lover - his devotion to her surged through the Bond in warm waves as he leaped against her chest, planting heavy paws on her shoulders, eagerly licking her face and ears.
She couldn't suppress a grin at his joy. The big dog was sometimes so much like a puppy. Canis were the perfect companions, loving, and loyal. She had trained Jona for years since they were first Bonded. The creatures were incredibly intelligent - far smarter than any ordinary dog - but they still had to be trained to gain discipline, to follow orders and learn when to fight, when to hide, and when to play. He had been difficult at the beginning, but the Bond that connected their minds bound them in total partnership and a shared desire that ran deeper than any spoken commands.
His eagerness finally bowled her over onto the grass, laughing. She wrestled with him playfully, rolling over and grabbing at this thick fur, until he pinned her by planting his enormous body over her legs. Jona's pent-up energy was almost palpable. She scratched his face and ears vigorously as he panted, tail swatting back and forth at the grass. Three days was a long time to stand watch, and they hadn't spotted any monsters in the area the whole time. They were both eager to be released from boredom.
She heaved and pushed the lazy dog off her legs, rolling him onto his back on the ground. He stayed there, arching his furry back to rub it on the soil and grunting in pleasure. She admired his handsome body. The coat was long and silky, auburn hair fading to a short coppery fuzz on his belly, and he was large - taller than she was if he stood on his hind legs - and probably weighed twice as much as her at this point. He had been smaller and easier to manage when he was a puppy, but he had filled out from the scrawny little whelp into a noble, muscular beast.
They got to their feet when their relief arrived. The thick-branched tree wasn't hard to find on the prairie, it being the only one in sight on the horizon. Nela recognized her friend: Mioha, a pretty, muscled girl one year her senior, and her companion Taba. The dogs engaged in the ancient ritual of sniffing each other's rumps.
"Hi Nela. Any action?"
Mioha was clad in a leather-edged half-top of dark green cloth. It left her shoulders bare and hung loose over her small breasts, swaying slightly in the wind. An intricate embroidery of brown studs and blue beads hanging in short tassels decorated the garment. Nela felt a tiny tinge of jealousy: the shirt had been awarded to her friend for exceptional service to the tribe. She wished she could own anything half as fine. The rest of her friend's flat tummy was bare down to the belt of the short brown skirt that marked her as a scout.
"Boring as a stone," Nela said, shaking her head. "Nothing but moles and marmots out here. Have fun."
Mioha smiled, but her expression was strained. "Well that's good. Stay alert on the trip back though. Some of the patrols to the north spotted a company of monsters, and the wise ones are worried. Be safe Nela."
Nela embraced her friend and whistled for Jona before setting off. She wasn't worried: the monsters usually passed by Nadoha lands, and the few that didn't were peppered with arrows and had their throats ripped out by the Canis for their trouble.
Being able to stretch her muscles after the long watch was glorious. She broke into a sprint, long stride eating up the distance as she ran over the green hills in the late afternoon sun. Jona bounded along beside her, barking happily. She jogged until her heart thumped in her chest and her muscles ached, grasses whipping her legs in endless rhythm. They burned pent-up energy in a mad dash over the gently sloping prairie, laughter and barks carrying on the wind, mixing with the rippling grass and buzzing flies.
The watering hole was a small pond fed by an underground spring, nestled in a bushy glen against the rocky slope of a large hillside. Nela collapsed on her hands at the edge of the pool, fingers curling into the mud. Her chest was heaving and sweat dripped from her face, her legs ached, blood thumped in her ears, and she felt great. Jona sniffed and whined at the bushes, not half so tired as she was after the exhausting run. The refreshing water beckoned her, and she cupped her hands and poured it over her face, her hair, her chest, splashing noisily, letting it run in rivulets down her stomach, before bending down to the surface to drink her fill. The water was clear and fresh. She gulped it down.
Spray fountained up into her nose as a huge, hairy beast plunged into the water in front of her. Jona leaped and splashed his mistress playfully, sending waves over the quiet surface of the pond before settling down to lap up huge slurps of water with his tongue. Nela finished scrubbing her face and then reclined on the bed of thick grass. She ate some jerky from her hip pack and offered the larger portion to Jona, who gobbled it up and begged for more.
The sun was low in the sky and filled the air with a hazy languor. Nela and Jona rested happily, basking in the heat. He had pressed up against her, licking her stomach in short strokes. The tickling feeling made her giggle and she ran her fingers through the hair on his belly and kissed him on his wet nose.
Jona was a handsome beast, with strong legs and tight muscles. His imposing body was offset by the friendly tail, which always thumped happily whenever his mistress looked at him. The soft fur on his tummy was so inviting, and she nestled her shoulder up against it. Jona was licking her legs now, searching tongue moving up her thighs, smelling her scent.
She sat up and began to unbuckle her harness. It was little more than a few pairs of leather straps that ran over her shoulders and under her arms, connecting to a grey metal ring in the center of her chest. It was only for hanging pouches and didn't cover her flat breasts or nipples, leaving most of the girl's upper body bare. The prairie got much too hot for a scout to wear lots of clothing, and the simple harness could be easily adjusted when her breasts began to grow. Her short skirt was just as perfunctory, consisting of a thin belt and pleated brown cloth, divided at the sides and edged with leather, reaching barely long enough to cover her pussy and ass. It was light and durable: perfect for a Nadoha who might have to spend days running across the plains. She had no use for undergarments. All they did on a long run was chafe and itch.
She cuddled her bare chest up against Jona's belly. The soft fur was her favorite thing about him, right after the thick pink cock that was already slipping from his sheath. He whined eagerly and licked her chest, running the rough tongue over her nipples. She scratched him and kissed him on his forehead, and then on his wet snuffling nose, letting his hot breath exhale on her face.
She rolled over and grasped the thick flesh of his penis with both hands. The heady scent of dogcock filled her nostrils as she used her hands to coax him erect. He barely needed the help. Three days without fucking his mistress had been hard on him. His tongue had worked its way under her skirt, finding her pussy and lapping at it in a pleasing rhythm.
The veiny doggy prick bulged in her hands. She wet her lips and took the pointed shaft into her mouth, letting her tongue roll over the tip before going deeper. The Bond worked both ways, and she could feel animal arousal building up in him just like he could sense the tingling warmth of his mistress. His tongue flicked and danced, pushing at her pussy lips and probing inside, earning a gush of wetness from her crotch. She stretched her jaw and worked the dogcock in her mouth in a steady tempo, dragging on him with steady suction. Precum was already bubbling from the tip. She used the wetness to glide faster, letting the tip work into the back of her throat.
She felt his orgasm at the same time he swelled up in her mouth. Thick jets of goo shot into her mouth in powerful bursts. The salty taste overwhelmed her senses, and she wiggled her tongue around the meaty flesh, trying to coax out every drop as her cheeks bulged with dog spunk. After three days, he had so much jizz saved up that it filled her mouth faster than she could swallow it, and white streaks dribbled down her chin and dripped on her chest in globs. He finally finished and she let the cock fall out of her mouth with a slurp before gulping down the last of the load in her mouth. The heady aroma of warm cum filled her nostrils and set her body buzzing.
He was still erect, and she purred on the brink of her own orgasm. She rolled over onto her hands and knees and slapped two fingers against her thigh three times rapidly, the signal for mount. Jona didn't waste any time. His eagerness hummed through the Bond as he leaped to his feet.
The warm fur, still slightly wet, brushed against her back as the enormous dog straddled the little girl. She could feel his heart beating wildly in the tense muscles pressed up against her. Firm flesh poked at her bottom as Jona lined up his prick at the pussy of his mistress. She angled her butt, helping him, and felt the tip poking in a fraction of a second before he rammed inside. A squeal tore from her throat as the thick flesh suddenly split her pussy wide open in a painful jolt. Sensing her distress, he backed off slightly, letting her get used to the thick girth inside her. Jona seemed to get bigger every year. She collapsed onto her elbows under him and buried her face in the ground, letting her body jerk back and forth as he impaled her. Warm flashes of pleasure spread upwards from her crotch, filling her mind with a pink haze, and her pussy walls spasmed and clamped at the flesh sliding into her. He was going deeper now as she opened up to him, increasing the pressure, slamming another inch of doggy penis inside with each thrust of the powerful pelvis.
Dimly, she remembered caution, and reached back to hold onto the knot that was about to enter her. Knotting with Jona was exhilarating, letting his doggy prick swell up inside her until she was stuck, shuddering for hours in the throes of multiple orgasms. But as much as she wanted it, she couldn't do it here. It wasn't safe to be helpless on the prairie. Jona's knot could take a long time to go down if he buried it inside her.
Mounting waves erupted into a roaring flood of ecstasy and her arms and legs convulsed as Jona's growling thrusts drove her into the dirt. Each swell of animal ecstasy as he hammered his cock into her wet hole was matched by her own when the taut flesh rubbed her pussy walls and the slanted tip bumped against her cervix. Her stomach muscles quivered and warmth spread inside her crotch when the giant dog bucked and filled her pussy and womb with a huge helping of dog sperm, shared pleasure thundering through the Bond in a loop, each feeling the other's orgasm as intensely as their own. They moaned and growled in sync, dog and mistress locked together in pounding tempo.
She wasn't sure how long they had lain there panting in a haze. Her orgasm finally tapered, and Jona pulled out of her with a wet sucking sound before laying down beside her. The tension had melted away from her muscles and she basked in post-coital bliss as she spooned up against his fur. Three days was too long, much too long. Three days and nights of constant vigil, taking only short naps while the other kept watch. It was forbidden for a scout to sacrifice alertness while on duty - lives had been lost when monsters snuck up on them, or worse, past them. His wet nose nuzzled the back of her neck, smelling her contentment, communicating his own. She ached after three days without mating with her lover. It was almost more than a girl could bear.
Nela washed and drank deeply from the pool before buckling on her leather harness and smoothing the short skirt over her hips. The sun had nearly set, and they would be expected at camp. Refreshed, the dog and his mistress set off at a jog over the hills.
Sharpened stakes protected the perimeter of the large rocky outcropping, the site of the camp where the Nadoha girls spent their summers. Nela nodded to the girls at the gate - warriors of around 15 summers with red facepaint and intimidating Canis companions - before moving up the path to the tent of the scout's mistress. Her debriefing was uneventful: she had spotted nothing on her three-day watch, but the mistress confirmed that some scouts had reported activity near the northern borders of the prairieland. Nela wasn't too worried. The mistress of scouts awarded her for her tenth duty by adding another red bead to the tassel on her right hip. Three more would make Nela a senior scout. She rubbed her fingers proudly over the string of rigid marbles as she exited the tent, and Jona wagged his tail happily, sensing his mistress' delight.
The Nadoha life was simple: a girl's duty was to the tribe and to her companion. Their training started very young, focusing on discipline, self-sufficiency, and survival on the prairie. Girls worked for the good of the tribe in their chosen role, whether as a warrior, a wise one, a craftswoman, or anything else. Canis, the male-only species of large, intelligent canine, were the beloved property of the tribe until they took a mate, after which they were Bonded to the girl for life. Fierce warriors, loyal protectors, amorous lovers, the doggy companions of the Nadoha filled any roles the girls couldn't do for themselves.
Nela watched the bustling life of the camp as she walked the trail to her tent. Girls hurried about in the cook-tent, chopping vegetables and meat, preparing mash and stew for the evening. A worker scurried by with a load of kindling secured in a leather bag on her back. Most girls went lightly dressed or topless in the rabid summer heat. On a small rise, a potter was firing a fresh batch of lusterware in her kiln. She had left the front of her apron hanging down, sweat rolling off her small breasts and down her stomach in the orange glow of the fire. She scratched the ears of her companion lazily as they watched the furnace.
Roars and laughter rolled through the air from the nearby amphitheater. Totems had been strung with blue ribbons and and excited barking came from the large sunken arena in the center. A Bonding was probably in progress. The girls of the tribe were tested in the summer months starting in their seventh year, and those who proved themselves were chosen to Bond. Normally Nela would have joined the festivities, helping celebrate the most important experience of a young Nadoha girl's life, but her tired muscles protested, and she continued to her tent.
Fanciful icons of tribal life decorated the large canvas sheet of her conical tent. She unlaced the flap and crawled inside. It was so good to be home. Her firepit had already been lit and a warm bowl of stew placed on the rack to simmer above the coals. Jona placed his head on his paws by the fire while Nela dived onto the soft pelts of her bedding and rolling around giggling, luxuriating in the silky fur.
Woodsmoke and warm dog were the smells of home. Nela wondered how she got to be so lucky. She cut strips of meat from her stash and tossed them to Jona, teasing him by pretending to throw every third strip and then hiding it under her legs. He played along complacently, and then bowled her over on the bed with his body, barking and sniffing out the hidden treats. She laughed and wrestled with the big canine until he turned the tables and held her down by planting his bottom on her chest and tickling her face with his tail. The tension of their duty melted away as they relaxed and played. It would be at least a fiveday before she would be assigned duties again. The solstice had started, and there would be a Bonding every night. She laid on her back and gazed at the trickle of smoke drifting up to the vent in the top of the tent. Plenty of time to relax and have fun.
Yuli came to visit shortly after the sounds of the Bonding celebration died down. The 7-year-old looked up to Nela like a bigger sister, often following her around the camp on her errands, even solemnly declaring how she wanted to train as a scout too. She and Nela sat cross-legged in the tent as they chatted. The giggling girl had been Bonded earlier in the week, so she went naked for her first month as tradition demanded, wearing nothing but the braid of her long golden hair. Her new companion, Tusk, an exasperatingly energetic little Canis barely out of puppyhood pranced about the tent, barking annoyingly, undisciplined. The horny dog was probably counting the minutes until he could mount his mistress again.
"Did you see any monsters this time? I'll bet you saw monsters this time. I'll bet you took your bow and went FHWOOMP FHWOOMP and shot them in their stupid faces until they ran away!" The excitable girl had a habit of running her sentences to progressively higher pitches until she was shouting.
Nela laughed. "No, not this time. It was boring. You think scouting is always so exciting, but mostly it's just waiting and watching."
"But I'll bet if there were, Jona would be like RAWWWRR and then he'd jump on them and rip their arms off until they cried," Yuli went on. "He's really big and strong!"
Nela glanced over to the far side of the fire, where Jona had finally had enough of the snapping challenger and wrestled him to the ground to sit on him. A small nose poked out from under Jona's fur, all that could be seen of the chastened pup.
"Tusk will get big too, don't worry. He'll grow as big as Jona or bigger, and he'll always be at your side. You have to train him well though. That's your first duty."
"Oh I know. We train hard every day just like Mistress Shani shows us. Now I can get him to do the first lessons." Yuli frowned. "He runs around a lot though, and sometimes he doesn't listen. It's hard."
Nela smiled at the girl to reassure her. "It was hard with Jona too when we were first Bonded. I had to teach him each signal again and again. Canis have so much energy. Mostly they just want to play."
"Yeah!" Yuli giggled nervously. "Sometimes I can make him do a command, but sometimes he just knocks me down." She jerked her braid distractedly, probably thinking about what she would do with Tusk when she got back to her tent. "He's really great though. Hey Nela, is it true that other humans don't have Canis?"
Nela had never met any humans outside her tribe. She only knew what she had been taught.
"I don't think they do Yuli."
"That's so weird. And they have like...menfolk? What do they look like?"
No outsiders were ever allowed among the tribe, especially human men.
"I'm not sure. I heard they have hair on their faces and bodies and they smell bad. Maybe they're like Canis. Except they can't be trained very well."
Yuli giggled. "That's silly. Why have a mate you can't train?"
The girls chatted until the fire burned low and the stars shined in the night sky. Nela waved goodbye to Yuli and her yipping companion, wondering if the girl would be able to get back to her tent before the randy pup tripped her up and tried to mount her.
Seeing Yuli again reminded Nela of her own Bonding. Four summers ago, the wise ones had prepared the feast and selected the pups and Nela was the first to run that solstice. She was presented to the tribe naked, and they wove the wreath of flowers in her hair and looped the blue ribbons of the Bond around her waist and hip. She had been nervous, excited, afraid, proud, everything mixed up at once in a jumble of excitement. Her singing peers had picked her up and carried her, then dumped her in the lowered arena, a round theater of mounds and obstacles. The pups were loosed at the other end.
She had shrieked and ran, laughing, as the horde of lustful dogs chased her. She sprinted around the rocks, jumping over obstacles, the long blue ribbons at her hip streaming behind her as she eluded her pursuers. They were all fine, handsome animals, howling as they chased her naked body with eager abandon. The first dog which could penetrate the girl in her Bonding became her mate. They leaped for her, trying to bowl her over or trip her, but she darted like a deer through the arena. If a girl didn't run well, it wasn't a good contest, and she was one of the best runners in the tribe. She was sure one of the three bigger dogs would be the one to win her, and finally one had caught up with her and knocked her onto her back, but the other two charged in. They snarled and nipped, and in the end spent more time fighting each other than trying to win her. It had been a small, slightly scrawny dog who finally outwitted her when she began to tire, cutting her off when she rounded a boulder and toppling her to the ground. He only needed one thrust to get inside her, but the feeling of the dog's cock slamming home took the fight out of her immediately. She hadn't even known the pup's name when she first gave up her virginity to it, grunting on the arena floor as it pounded her to her first orgasm. From the moment it had filled her with the first batch of sticky seed, they were Bonded.
Now as she scratched his ears lovingly, she couldn't have imagined herself with any other mate. Even if Jona hadn't been the fastest or the strongest, he had grown out into a muscled, beautiful beast, a loving, playful, gentle, and relentlessly horny partner that she wouldn't have traded for anything. Her head rested on his silky auburn coat, fingers running through the thick fur, listening to his heartbeat. He whined and licked his mistress as they cuddled, the pink cock already bulging as it slapped against his belly.
She took the veiny shaft into her mouth and sucked the dog's cock until it was a rigid pole bumping the back of her throat. She loved Jona, and he had waited so patiently during the days they had been on duty, unable to play with his mistress properly. The heat of his horniness in the Bond matched her own as she laid on her back on the pelts and tapped her thigh. His panting washed over her face as he straddled the girl, pointed flesh probing at her slit, and then pressed in.
The feeling of a massive dog cock in your pussy was the best experience a little girl could have in life, she thought. Arms raised above her head, she sighed deeply and gave herself up to the pounding rhythm in her cunt. Jona's prick dug deeper, cramming inch after inch of flesh into the tiny hole until the round lump at the base was tickling her lips. Now that she was home, she could fuck him properly. Panting groans of her mounting orgasm escaped from her mouth as the knot slid in, spreading her open and locking her body to him. Thrusting hips moved in sync, twinned pleasure carried between their minds as each felt the other's bliss, bodies pistoning in a frantic, urgent tempo as the lovers panted with growing pleasure.
Shared orgasm sent limbs flailing and backs arching. Thick dog spunky filled her pussy, the warm goo gushing and squishing, nowhere to go but up into the little girl's cervix. Girl and dog rode the waves from orgasm to orgasm, mutual crescendos feeding on each other. They clenched and thrust, fur sliding over smooth tummy, exchanging licks and kisses between each climax.
They drifted off to sleep that way, Nela running her hands in lazy waves down her mate's back, the dog's flesh still buried inside her, plugging his sperm into the little girl's womb. He had so much energy saved up it would probably take hours for his knot to go down. Now he dozed like a personal blanket over her body as she lay on her back on the bedding of fluffy pelts.
She wondered how long it would be before the Wise Ones decided she was ready to take the ohka root. The Nadoha harvested the stalky plants from the river in the summer months, drying them out and boiling away the tough outer layer and seeds. If a girl ate the pungent herb, she became fertile to Canis sperm, and would bear either human daughters or a litter of male Canis pups. Secretly, Nela wished for pups. The thought of the proud father being climbed on by a litter of barking, slobbering little puppies as he licked and played with them left a warm smile on her face as she dozed off.
Green grass swished against her legs like water as Nela ran across the prairie. The warm summer sun beat down merciless rays from the clear sky, and sweat beaded on her forehead and chest, running in small rivulets down her back. Her short brown skirt flared out behind her in the breeze.
Her fiveday had been wonderful. One of the younger girls she knew had been Bonded. Nela had woven the wreath for Kir, a wide-eyed little brunette with a goofy smile, then they had all picked her up and dumped her in the arena. Kir ran a merry chase before a lean pup with shaggy black hair managed to knock the girl down and penetrate her. The songs and celebration of the Bonding nights were the best the year had to offer. She passed sunny days with easy labor, relaxing with her friends and enjoying the evening feasts, and made love to Jona at every moment in between.
He was up ahead, just over the rise, running with her over the low sloping hills. Their rest was over and she had returned to duty today. They hadn't even been out of camp half the day when Jona smelled trouble on the wind: smoke. She crested the rise and saw the black pillar rising into the sky in the distance, bending at an angle in the breeze.
Alarm coursed through the Bond. Tangy smells of blood and iron mixed with the smoke. This was no woodfire, there had been an attack. She crouched next to Jona in the high grasses, peering over the rise, chest heaving with exertion.
The worn dirt trail that crossed the prairie ran by a small pool here. Torn debris lay scattered everywhere. Three wagons, overturned. Wheels shattered. Mules dead in their traces. Nela rested her hand on Jona's thick neck, feeling the rapid pulse under the dog's panting - he didn't like this. There had been a fight, but the smell was off. Fouled. Monsters maybe, but he didn't know the scent.
She tapped her nose and eyes in the signal for stealth and they moved up carefully, staying hidden in the meager cover. A finished wooden box had been torn open and cast aside, leaving a trail of leggings and fine blouses on the grass. Books and jewelry had been shattered and dumped on the ground by another case. Luggage?
Birds cawed in protest and scattered at the same time a gagging odor filled her nose. A human was here: a man, judging by the strange facial hair and square chin. He had been torn open by a blade, guts spilling onto the grass. Blood ran everywhere. Nela had a strong stomach though, a necessity on the prairie, and took careful note of the arrows that peppered his backside. Thick bone heads, long ash shafts, and black fletching lashed with horsehair - a powerful arrow for a shortbow.
More bodies lay butchered by the pool, blood trickling into its waters. Menfolk. Nela judged the corpses had lain for about half a day. A few were armored - some sort of soldiers - but the rest wore the clothing of humble merchants. They were common in the summer months, crossing the prairie to peddle their wares in Teleria to the west. A few were even brave enough to stop and trade with the Nadoha from time to time, though the tribe generally turned away outsiders.
Deep hoofprints crisscrossed the muddy ground by the water. The raiders must have ridden heavy horses when they attacked this caravan as it camped by the pool during the night. Nela checked the wagons, finding hardtack and beer, bolts of cloth and spices for trade, letters in a language she couldn't read. It had all been ripped open and dashed on the ground. She surveyed the bloody site, worrying. Men could have done this, but they had never ventured onto the prairie to raid. And where were the women? The blouses were too frayed to have been carried for trade. Men would have taken the jewelry too. It didn't add up. The Wise Ones should be told at once. She was just about to leave when she spotted a foot sticking out from under the crushed backside of the wagon.
Six hundred pounds of wood was too much for a little girl to lift on her own. Jona whined and dug at the dirt, scratching a channel in the stony dirt, while Nela lugged half of a shattered axle to the wagon. She fitted it under the edge and pushed a rock into place for a fulcrum, then heaved with all her strength. The wagon didn't budge. Jona gazed at her with a morose look, tailing wagging uncertainly.
Nela wanted to scream in frustration. Blood from the tall grass had stuck to her legs and sweat rolled off her body, and the camp reeked of death as the noontime sun baked the bodies. She had to get out of here. Jona padded over and she scratched his furry ears as he looked around, whimpering.
The big toe twitched. She didn't imagine it, did she? No, it had definitely twitched. Whoever was trapped under the wagon was alive. Jona sensed her excitement and dashed over to the foot, sticking his nose into the ground and digging wildly again as if he was after a gopher. Nela spit on her hands and grabbed the axle. It was like pulling on a tree trunk, but after three mighty heaves, she saw the wagon edge lift just slightly. Jona clamped his jaws gently around the ankle and pulled, and a battered blond girl slid out from under the wagon.
Nela had never seen anyone dressed quite so oddly. The girl was her own age, mostly naked. A thin brace of golden metal stretched around her torso, with small hanging flaps of blue cloth to cover her nipples. Her bottoms were little more than a chain of the same metal, formed in small delicate links, stretching around her waist, and two more gold-edged flaps of the blue cloth to cover her privates at the front and back. The sandals were made of the same metal, and small gems glinted from studs in her ears and belly button.
The girl groaned in pain and her eyes fluttered. Her nose had been bloodied and her left arm was broken where it had been pinned under the wagon. More blood, not hers, had splashed onto her stomach, and the rest of her was covered in mud and filth. She looked like she had been through a war. Nela held her waterskin to the girl's mouth, coaxing her to drink. The girl swallowed and gagged before turning onto her side and coughing in racking spasms. She spit up phlegm and bits of dried blood, then sucked eagerly at the waterskin again.
Nela managed to get her to sit up, causing the girl to hiss in pain and clutch her arm.
"Aaaaah, oh gods that hurts." The girl looked around hazily, squinting her eyes in the bright sun. "What happened?"
Nela shook her head. "I'm not sure. Somebody attacked your caravan, but I don't know who. The men are dead."
"The men were..." she began, but trailed off, shaking her head in confusion. "Where's the Je'lai? Did they take it?"
Nela watched as the girl's eyes focused and unfocused. She wouldn't be good for much.
"I don't know what that is. All your stuff was thrown on the ground."
"It must be...here, help me up".
The girl staggered to her feet and swooned against Nela, who supported her with an arm under her shoulder. Limping, she guided Nela to the front of the wagon, and pushed firmly on a hidden panel under the seat. It depressed with a muted click and she drew out a small silvered case and a heavy tome with an elaborate cover.
"Thank the gods," she mumbled, handling the box with an odd reverence. "They didn't get it." Jona sniffed at the box, but the mage snapped it away.
"Listen, we have to go. I need to report what happened here..."
"Wait," the girl slumped weakly to the ground, unable to stand any longer. "Have to...find my staff. It must be around here." Her breath came in laboured pants. "Must be. Look for a long ivory staff with a curl on the end. There's an A'sham at the tip." She closed her eyes.
Nela frowned. The girl wanted a walking staff? She didn't know what an A'sham was. Well, if it let her walk, it would help.
She sent an image of what the thing must look like along the Bond to Jona, and he darted off, running his nose along the ground with excited snuffling. In only a few moments he returned, bounding across the ground with a long white pole clamped between his teeth. On one end the ivory tapered into curling filigree, wrapping around some kind of red jewel.
"That's it!" the girl breathed, taking the staff from Jona. She struggled to her feet and swept it in a graceful arc, leaving behind a shimmering trail of dancing lights.
Nela gasped. Magic! The girl was a mage. She watched as the sparkling points flared and were drawn into the girl's body. Slowly, the broken arm unbent and the painful expression left the mage's face. She stopped favoring her leg and began to stand up straight. Blood and muck faded, then vanished, revealing flawless smooth skin.
"Much better!" the young mage sighed happily. She took a step and then halted, eyes fluttering. "Pretty sleepy...", she mumbled, and then collapsed face-first onto the ground.
Nela held her head in frustration. She didn't have time for this. The sun was working its way across the sky, but she couldn't leave the mage here to be pecked apart by birds. Gathering some of the wagon wheel spokes and one of the bolts of cloth, she fashioned a crude sledge and dragged the girl onto it. Jona wasn't much help - he just sniffed the girl's pussy curiously, wondering if he should do something with it. He hadn't been trained to deal with outsiders. She gave him the signal to scout forward, then gathered the girl's belongings and began hauling the sledge across the grass.
It was late at night and the tent was a cozy haven. Smells of stew filled the air, wafting from the steaming bowl next to the bedding where the mage was resting.
Kali sat cross-legged on the ground, the mage's heavy book resting open on her legs. She flipped to the next page in the disturbing volume.
"Vile Buzzards are large flying creatures similar in appearance to common vultures. They average 22 stones in weight and their wingspan can exceed 100 hands in length. Like their animal cousins, they prefer to track and eat carrion, but will also readily hunt medium-sized prey at need.
"Making their nests in wilderness areas, Buzzards generally avoid human settlements. Human encroachment is usually met with swift violence, and an enraged Vile Buzzard can easily use its superior speed and size to defeat a human. Buzzard nests are a source of danger to travellers and isolated farms near their territory. When hunting in flocks of 3-10, the creatures will seek out humans, slaying the males and abducting any females they encounter. The hind legs can kick powerfully, and in addition to the heavy wings, four arms extend from the upper body, which they use to clutch prey to their breast when flying. Human girls are brought back to the nest, which typically resides in a high, inaccessible area, and raped ceaselessly for sport. The Vile Buzzard phallus is several hands long and used to penetrate the girl indiscriminately in the vagina, anus, and mouth. Some creatures have also been observed raping their prey in flight, holding the girl in place with their dextrous arms. Victims that misbehave or try to escape the nest are woven into the fabric of the nest itself, held in place with thick branches, leaving the sexual areas exposed for continued use."
She had hunted Vile Buzzards before, and as far as she knew, the book was correct in every aspect. It even contained several revolting facts she hadn't known. Detailed, full-color diagrams of young girls being penetrated by the birds filled the remaining portions of the chapter. She skipped over them to the next section.
"Crags are stationary monsters that dwell only in rocky, mountainous regions. Their body is composed of a man-sized jaw with exposed, crooked teeth that resemble stones, and a large fleshy sac that appears to grow deep into solid rock and join with it as the creature matures. A long throat leading to a stomach region constitutes the only organs the creature has and the extent of its biological body.
"Crags feed on passing prey for sustenance. The jaw changes shape over time and the teeth color themselves to match local stones until the mouth of the creature is heavily camouflaged. Tongue-like appendages, rooted in the throat, grab any living creature that passes too near, drawing it into the large jaws and swallowing it. The stomach is filled with a mass of writhing tentacles and seems to serve a dual purpose: when digesting animal prey or human males, the acidity of the stomach is increased, and the tentacles aid in the breakdown and digestion of the food, but when devouring young girls, the chemical concentrations in the stomach are carefully adjusted to only dissolve the clothes of the victim and leave them unharmed. A human girl captured in such a manner is then held in bondage indefinitely and raped by the phallus-like tentacles in the stomach. The dozens of flexible appendages all serve equally to hold the victim in place, and to penetrate them in the genitals, anus, and mouth repeatedly. Victims survive indefinitely, sustained by the sticky secretions deposited in them.
"A crag that has captured a human girl seems to have no need for sustenance from any other source, and will remain totally hidden by its camouflage from any other potential prey except additional girls. Ingesting new victims allows the creature to grow its internal body inside the stone, providing more room. The largest known crag had devoured over 20 victims and held them for many years by the time it was exposed and destroyed. Conversion effects are largely unknown, since victims cannot be studied in depth and inevitably die when the crag itself is destroyed.
"The method of Crag procreation remains largely hypothetical and is a subject of ongoing research.
There was additional information about combat methods, and anatomical cutaway diagrams showing how the tentacles would capture a girl and penetrate her pussy.
Nela closed the book. Every page was filled with detailed, accurate information about inconceivable horrors. Spiders that laid eggs in humans. Apes and ghouls with rotting flesh. Living plants that would capture and rape girls. Why would anyone need such a volume? She knew the mages of Teleria fought monsters, but such creatures rarely ventured onto the plains.
One of the Wise Ones, Pishniya, entered the tent, followed by her companion. The slender 18-year-old wore a simple white band of cloth over her breasts, edged with brocade and a silky fringe of blue fibers. Her skirt was a layered array of loose tan flaps, and the blue and red tassels tied at her hips showed her authority as a Bonding judge and as an elder of the tribe respectively. Beaded necklaces of varying size and color signified the honors she had won in her duties.
Pishniya surveyed the younger girl. "Any change in the outsider?"
Nela shook her head and put down the book. "Nothing yet. What will you do with her?"
"We haven't yet decided", Pishniya said, lips pursing in a frown. "You should not have brought her here."
Outsiders were almost never allowed among the tribe. The rare merchants that came to trade were met on the prairie, and men were forbidden to come with them. Outsiders always brought trouble: they didn't understand Nadoha ways, they didn't respect the Canis, they wanted things the girls or the tribe were unable to give.
"I had no choice!", Nela protested. "I couldn't have left her unconscious on the prairie. The raiders may have returned, or she could have been eaten by animals!"
The Wise One held her hands up in a placating gesture. "Calm. Perhaps you didn't have a choice. That is for us to decide. First, it is our duty to talk to this girl, to find out who she is and where she is going."
Pishniya held a small cup, and she bent down to hold it against the mage's lips. Kaf: the Nadoha extracted the cure-all medicine from a rare brown plant, and brewed it into teas to treat their wounded. Pishniya poured the dark liquid into the girl's mouth and worked her throat to swallow it. In a matter of moments, the girl's eyes fluttered open as she regained consciousness.
"You are among the tents of the Nadoha," Pishniya intoned, reciting the greeting ritual of the tribe. "You are safe with us. Please, mage of Teleria, tell us your name."
The mage looked around, relaxing visibly when she spotted her staff and silver case nearby. "Sarah". She sat up. "Sarah Forthtown, Arcanum Eximpli, Mage of the Second Order."
The Wise One looked unimpressed by the girl's titles. "Tell me of the raiders that attacked your caravan. I must know if they are a threat to our camp."
"Not raiders." Sarah shook her head, trying to clear the fog from her mind. "Centaurum. They attacked us during the night. They took the others, but I used an invisibility spell."
Pishniya appeared totally calm, but her companion Jix, lying on the ground near Jona, suddenly raised his head in a panic. Nela had never heard of the creatures, but clearly Pishniya had, and her alarm had carried through the Bond. Sarah didn't seem to have noticed.
"Centaurum," Pishniya repeated, as if the word meant nothing to her. "I see. Will you please tell me what this is?" She held up the small silvered case.
Sarah snatched it away. "Don't touch that! It's...um." She looked uncertain. "Well...I guess I can tell you. It's a Je'lai."
"Thank you mage, but I do not know what that is. Can you explain it please?" Pishniya's expression was unflappable.
Looking sheepish, Sarah touched the hingeless box in the center of the lid. A white light flared under her finger, and the lid came loose. Thick wrapping paper cushioned whatever was inside.
A small white disc gleamed in the glow of the fire when Sarah took it out. Pale luster reflected the light in shimmering colors, and a sinuous symbol decorated one side.
"It's a flexcion. Um...a focus," Sarah explained. "Magic drawn into it is charged and greatly amplified."
"A powerful treasure. You were transporting this artifact across the prairie? Is this why you were attacked?"
Defensiveness and anger showed in Sarah's expression. "We need it! Don't you understand? We don't have a choice! It's the only way to..."
Sarah tried to calm herself. "I can't say much. It's mage business. Private. You know that Teleria...isn't doing so well against the monsters these days."
"I've heard stories," said the Wise One, calm as a statue in the face of the outburst.
"We have to beat them. They're everywhere. This Je'lai, it could be the key to drive them out."
"Drive them out of Teleria, and onto the prairie?"
"No. Drive them out of this world."
An uncomfortable silence descended on the tent. Pishniya seemed lost in thought.
Jix and Jona were lazily wrestling near the tent entrance. "Why do you have these dogs everywhere?" Sarah asked, changing the subject.
The Wise One arched an eyebrow, frowning. No surprise that the mage was rude. Outsiders usually were. Nela answered first.
"They're not just dogs! They're Canis. They're our companions."
"Companions? I don't know anything about your tribe. What kind of companions?"
"They're part of the tribe." Nela smiled. "They're our companions, our mates." Easier to show the girl than explain. "Here, do you want to watch?"
She got down on all fours, pulling up her skirt and and tapping her thigh. Jona jumped up eagerly, the horny dog always ready for playtime. He straddled his mistress, cock slipping from its sheath, and prepared to fuck her.
"Stop!" Sarah looked shocked. "That's ok, you don't have to uh...show me. I get it." She looked back and forth from Jix to Pishniya.
Nela got up and sniffed irritably, smoothing her skirt over her thighs. The mage was a prude. Outsiders usually were. Jona sat on his haunches, cock sticking out of his stomach, confused at the mixed messages.
"I think that's enough for tonight." Pishniya got to her feet. "You're tired, and must rest. We will speak more tomorrow."
The Wise One dropped her calm expression after they left the tent. She stared pensively out into the night.
"Nela. Gather your gear again. You're going out."
"Yes, Wise One".
"Take Mioha with you." Taba, Mioha's mate, was one of the largest Canis in the tribe. "Return to the site of that attack and follow the hoofprints."
Nela nodded. "What are Centaurum?"
She thought Pishniya would refuse to answer. "Horse creatures," she said finally. "I will consult with the other Wise Ones. We absolutely must know which direction they went." Her voice was tight with worry. "And Nela, whatever happens...do not let yourself get caught."
Long grass flowed around short skirts like water as the girls jogged in the night. Snuffling noses held to the ground, the dogs ran ahead. They had had to backtrack twice already. Jona and Taba were doing their best, but the scent was old, and mixed with the smell of blood and humans.
Cold night air rasped in their lungs as they paused at the bottom of a low hill, panting, hands resting on their legs. The dogs couldn't decide to go around the hill or up it.
"This is hopeless," Mioha gasped. "We can't follow day-old tracks across dry ground in the dark."
"We have to find something," Nela replied. "The broken grass led west and so did the biggest scent." The dogs were howling as they raised the trail again.
"You should have seen Pishniya's expression. I think she was really worried."
Mioha waved dismissively. "Over some dead manfolk outsiders and a mage whose brain had probably cooked in the sun? That dirty little blond is probably laughing at us. We've been out here for hours. Even if there are monsters out here, we'll never find them as long as these clouds block the moon. The trail has forked four times already and now we're heading back the way we came."
"Maybe you're right," said Nela. They would have to return and tell the Wise Ones that they couldn't find anything. Mioha raised her fingers to whistle the return signal when Nela touched her arm.
Crickets. Rustling grass. Nightbirds calling to each other in the whispering breeze. Drums in the distance.
"Do you hear that?"
Mioha shrugged in reply. "Bison."
"No." Nela put her ear to the ground and Mioha joined her. The rhythm was fast, chaotic. Too heavy. "Not Bison. Horses." It was coming from the southeast, the direction of the camp.
Heartbeats thundered in her ears and her veins pumped acid. Muscles screamed in agony as the girls sprinted for their lives across the prairie. The sounds were louder, resolving into a low rumbling of hoofbeats, and a dim red glow emerged on the horizon. Tears filled Nela's eyes before streaking back across her face. Fire in the camp, joined by the angry sounds of fighting. Her body cried out for relief as she pushed it to the limit, legs pumping in desperate frenzy. The dogs followed like brown streaks in the night, parting the tall grass as they passed.
They were close enough to have a good view. Some of the tents were ablaze, and large muscled forms galloped rapidly through the camp, silhouettes outlined by the flames. Pounding hoofbeats and screams came from the darkness all around them. Mioha crouched in the grass, cursing.
"Damn! They're up the slope already and inside the gate!" Mioha whispered furiously. She had strung her shortbow and knocked an arrow. "They're fighting at the far end though." Angry snarling and yells came from the other side of the rise. It sounded like the Nadoha warriors had rallied. "Come on!"
Nela drew her knife and followed the older girl, keeping low in the grass as they made their way to the gate. The brilliant glare of the burning fires was killing their night vision. Nela blinked her eyes, trying to look away.
The girls crouched and gave silent hand signals to their Canis. Enemy. Guard. Fight. Stay close. Then they ran in the gate.
An enormous creatures with the body of a horse and the head and torso of a man reared up in front of them with a scream, kicking with its hooves. Nela jumped to the side, landing on her shoulder. He whirled and swung a huge club down at her face, and she rolled in a panic, barely avoided being squashed. Anger and terror roared through the Bond. She could feel Jona distracting the creature, leaping up to bite and rip at his flanks. Hooves flashed and Jona cried out in pain. She scrambled and cut wildly with her knife, scoring a wicked slash on the front leg. Flecks of blood spattered over her as the Centaurum danced away.
There was screaming from her side of the path. A Centaurum was slashing his way into a tent with a scimitar, revealing a huddle of frightened girls there. A snarling Canis leaped out and clamped his jaws on the invader's leg, but was kicked away for his trouble.
Another Centaurum had grabbed a tiny girl - too young to have been Bonded - as she ran in terror. He held her upside-down by one leg, grinning lasciviously at his prize. The brown skirt had fallen up on her stomach, revealing the girl's little snatch.
Nela barely managed to duck under the club of a charging beast and tumble to the side of the tent. Jona was here. He was bleeding and hurt, but ready to fight. Gripping her knife tightly, she charged back in with a scream.
She planted the blade in the rear end of the beast holding the girl, dancing to the side to avoid the retaliating kick. It dropped its screaming prey on her head and turned to face Nela. Jona leaped out of the darkness onto the monster's back, holding on with his claws and ripping a deep gash into the horselike flank. The monster screamed and bucked, swinging its club wildly, trying to dislodge the frenzied dog from its back. His distraction allowed Nela to draw her short boot knife and ram it straight into the human belly.
Wind whistled in her ears for an instant before her head slammed against something hard. Red pain blossomed in her skull and her vision swam. Someone was screaming. It was her. Jona had hurt his head. No, she had. It was her pain that he was feeling. She leaned over and retched bloody vomit.
It must have kicked her. Jona was fighting, desperately trying to distract the monster from his mistress. A club smashed his leg and he yelped in pain. Nela rolled over onto her hands, struggling to get to her feet. She reached for her boot knife, feeling nothing. She had already used it. A strung bow and scattered arrows lay on the ground nearby. She grabbed it and nocked one.
The shadow of a monster was across the path, cursing, raising a long scimitar above its head. Blood streamed from long gashes in its flanks and a dog limped pitifully on the ground in front of it, howling in agony. Taba. His legs were broken. She aimed and fired in one smooth motion, arrow flashing through the air and piercing the Centaurum's neck with a meaty thwack. Blood spurted and the creature screamed. She felt on the ground for another arrow.
Rushing air was the only warning she had. Nela leaped to the side, narrow avoiding the club the swishing through the space where her shoulderblades had been a moment earlier, and ran out onto the open path. Centaurum were everywhere. A Nadoha warrior danced to avoid the swinging sword of the huge creature facing her, unable to parry such strong blows. Skillfully she drew his weapon to the side, creating an opening, and her slash drew a line of red blood across his chest. His other hand flashed out, backhanding the girl in the face and sending her flying to the side. He laughed cruelly.
Where was Jona? She could feel him nearby, quivering in terror and pain. He was hurt bad. She looked around. Mioha was on the ground, caught in a rope net. The Centaurum yanked the slipcord and it tightened around the screaming girl, curling her into a ball that he held aloft. Another beast held a girl in the air with fingers held tightly around her throat. She grasped at the iron fingers on her neck, legs kicking futilely as she choked in pain, face turning red. A deep throaty chuckle came from the creature as he ripped her top off, and then her skirt, leaving the girl naked in his hands. Nela backed away in horror, fear seizing her vitals in an icy grip.
A shadow loomed in front of her like a demon, backed by blazing flames. She swung the bow hysterically, and the Centaurum caught it with his fist. He yanked it from her grasp and snapped it in two like kindling.
Nela ran, chest clenching with fright as her feet pounded up the path. The healer's tent was at the end of a short side trail. Panic spurred her muscles to a mad dash. She threw back the flap and ran inside.
Sarah gave a startled jump, distracted from her spellcasting, and pointed her staff. She relaxed when she saw who it was.
"What are you doing?! Get out there and fight!" demanded Nela.
Sarah considered her coldly. "I can't. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. They're looking for me. They probably followed me here."
Nela seized the hanging scraps of Sarah's top with both hands and yanked her close. "What in the hell are you talking about? Those...monsters are out there! They're taking everyone in the tribe and burning our camp to the ground! You're the only person who can fight them!"
A subtle wave of force, like an expanding bubble, shoved Nela backwards onto the dirt.
"I can't risk being taken prisoner. The Je'lai is too important. Don't you realize what's at stake?" Sarah straightened her top primly and frowned, gathering her case and book. "I can't risk this just to help some...some...barbarians."
Nela looked up in muted shock.
Sarah waved her ivory staff in a complicated circle and the gem on the end glowed brightly. Reality twisted itself into a hole behind her. Air blew towards the gap, sending twigs and blades of grass rushing along the ground.
Nela jumped to her feet, screaming with rage. She pounded both fists on the invisible wall separating them. Sarah stepped halfway through the portal and looked back. For a moment, she almost looked sorry, but then she was gone, and the hole in the air corkscrewed itself back to normal. Nela was alone in the tent.
Fear spurred her up the path again, wailing and visions of doom on every side. She had seen the fighting on the upper end of the bluff; maybe the warriors had rallied there. She kept running, dread snapping at her thighs, driving her into hysterical panic. A Centaurum leaped in front of her and a club lashed out. She ducked sideways, then scrambled across a small herb garden and up a short slope. The upper rise was just ahead. She vaulted over the low fence of the goat pen, passed the weaver's tent, ran into the open area, and beheld a nightmare.
The Wise One's tents were a raging bonfire driving smoke and ash into the air. Flickering shadows played over the dozens of girls who were sprawled bloodied and twisted on the ground. The Centaurum manhandled the crying girls, trying their legs and arms behind them with ropes, trussing them like pigs and tearing off their scanty clothes, then laying out their prizes in a line of naked bodies.
Nela's paralysis broke when one of the creatures noticed her, pointing at the loose girl with a guttural cry. Her throat locked in a scream and she fell over backwards. Hands and knees scrabbled at the dirt and she came up in a blind run, eyes dazzled by the fire. Angry voices shouted behind her.
A toppled cooking spit blocked her way and she veered to the side, arms held in front of her. Raging blood thumped in her ears and she sucked rasping breaths down a throat raspy from screaming. A Centaurum leaped in front of her and grabbed with both arms. She ducked and rolled. Her feet pounded the ground and she vaulted over a low rock, then slipped and landed face-first in a pool of sticky blood.
Nela pushed herself up, sobbing uncontrollably. Blood was on her hands and face and tacky gunk was sticking to her eyelids. Clawing her way to her feet, she ran for a narrow passage behind the masonry wall of the forge. The Centaurum was right behind her. A heavy fist snatched at her hair but came away with only a few brown strands as the girl escaped down the alley.
Nela spared a glance backwards as she ran. The Centaurum stamped its hooves in the dirt and swished its tail angrily, showering curses at her in a black speech. The end of the passage was just ahead. She put her head down and ran.
The large club caved her stomach in with a painful smash. She was on the ground, the wind knocked out of her chest, vomit crawling its way up her throat. Her leg felt stuck. She squirmed, feeling thick strands on her arms and back. They jerked and tightened suddenly, wrenching her legs and arms up to her chest, curling her into a ball. The Centaurum heaved and held the little girl aloft in the net, peering at its prize gleefully.
Nela shrieked and struggled uselessly, ropes scraping her skin. The monster slung her over its shoulder and carried her like a sack up the path. Hazy despair washed over her. Where was Jona? She couldn't feel him. The Bond was silent. Her vision swam with tears, flowing down her face and mixing with the smears of blood. Her heart breaking, she tried to call out for him, but only a mewling croak came from her throat. She had failed in her duty, failed everyone. She hadn't detected the threat in time. She had brought the mage, the outsider, into the camp. She should have let the bitch die on the prairie. Now hell had come to her world, and it was her own fault.
Dawn was breaking, but no sun entered her world. Dreary clouds obscured the sky. Nela was bent over at the waist, naked, legs and arms lashed with leather straps to the long poles of a crude hitching post. Beside her, several other girls from her tribe were bound in the same way, bent with their exposed pussies pointed into the air.
The Centaurum had subdued the girls and gathered them together in the assembly area of the camp, then separated them into groups according to some inscrutable logic. The worst of their wounds were cleaned and bound. Once the girls were secure, they began their fun. The girl to her left, a raven-haired 9-year-old whose name Nela didn't know, was shrieking and wiggling in her bonds as the Centaurum slammed her pelvis in painful jolts. The beast's long horseprick was planted firmly against the girl's pussy, head pushing the flesh apart but unable to fit inside. He seemed to be enjoying it anyway. The shaft flexed and his flanks twitched in orgasm as he left a huge load pooling along the girl's slender back and dripping down her pussy.
The other girls wept freely as the Centaurum took their turns with them, bucking and whinnying in pleasure as their victims shrieked. The long poles rocked back and forth, jerking on Nela's wrists and legs. She was next. The muscled body of a horse was above her, bestial warmth steaming off the skin in the cold morning. A thick rod of flesh, as big around as her arm, ran itself between her legs and along her lips, the Centaurum enjoying the slippery feeling of the little 11-year-old girl's pussy. Rough hands fondled her backside, playing with her cunt, squeezing her buttcheeks and then running up her spine. Nela dropped her head and shut her eyes, sobbing, but a fist closed around her hair and jerked her upwards, forcing the girl to look up at her assailant: cruel black eyes and long hair the color of night, above a muscled chest and stomach that faded into furry brown horseflesh beneath. A rapacious grin plastered his face.
Her crotch was gooey with precum and her own juices. She could feel the Centaurum plant the head of its enormous prick at her snatch and thrust, ramming the bulging flesh against her with a snap that arced her back painfully, earning a whimpering sob. The creature played with her body like a toy. Nela had given her virginity to Jona at 7, and it had hurt, but also felt great. Jona was gentle - eager but not rough. She wasn't very big, and sometimes she had to lick him or spit on him so he could slide into her pussy, but since she loved sucking his doggy cock anyway it was no chore. The enormous horsecock that pressed against her wasn't gentle; it slammed viciously, demanding entry into a hole much too tight for it. Her hips bucked and her legs slapped against the wooden pole that she was bent over.
The length of flesh was gliding between her buttcheeks and along her back now. It was slick with precum, and the greasy liquid spread out over the girl's rear and back. Musky odors of horseflesh and semen filled her nostrils. The cock jerked back again and pistoned against her rear as the creature finished, thick jets of cum fountaining from the tip in powerful spurts, landing in Nela's hair, on her back, and leaving a thick coating of sticky cum all over her ass and pussy. She could feel it dripping down her legs in gooey streaks.
Nela hung loose against the leather straps and cried. It was all any of them could do, all that the Centaurum would let them do. Girls who talked had their rear ends whipped with a switch. They were fine with crying though, even seemed to enjoy it. Centaurum moved about the camp, long cocks held at her eye level, calling to each other with guttural speech. They tore apart the Nadoha tents and gathered food and supplies, taking breaks to rape the girls when they got tired. The globs of cum dried on her body and crotch as the sun rose overhead, leaving strange tingling sensations in the skin. Her pussy felt odd where the horsecum had gone inside, prickling jolts jerking the muscles in uncomfortable spasms.
A long trough was dropped into place in front of her. Hands gripped her hair and lifted her head up, and the meaty head of an erect horsecock slapped her face. Arousal seemed to be the only mood Centaurum had. He grunted and pushed against her mouth, a silent warning of the price of disobedience.
Her tongue darted out to lick the bulging flesh. She worked both sides until they were coated with sloppy saliva and then stuck her tongue into the little slit, earning a pleased shudder that vibrated along the length of the cock. Tastes of salt and sweat and dried goo from his previous activities filled her mouth in a revolting mix. The Centaurum wanted more: he jerked her head and arched his penis against her face until she stretched her jaw as wide as it would go. She couldn't have fit the bulbous head in her mouth any more than her own fist, but her tongue and lips brought the creature to the edge. Powerful spurts filled her mouth with sticky batter. She choked and coughed on the huge amounts of horsecum forced down her throat, and it kept coming as she sputtered, spilling out of her mouth in a gush and running down her chin to drip from her chest. The prick smeared her face, tracing globs of cum over her eyes, her cheeks, getting it in her nose and hair. Her coughs turned into a hacking paroxysm as her throat tried to clear the mess of fluid. The smell and taste were powerful, filthy, overwhelming her brain with heady stupor.
The remains that she couldn't swallow dribbled into the trough, joining with the leftovers from the girls next to her. The white soup grew as more girls had the long pricks shoved into their face, licking and tonguing the heads until they choked on the rush of liquid that spurted into their mouths.
Nela's muscles ached in her bent-over position. She had lost count of how many times the thick horsecocks had been shoved in her face or rammed against her pussy. Her mouth and throat twisted and tingled with fluttering sensations, and her pussy burned with a warm fever. Wherever the Centaurum had left their spunk, the flesh throbbed. Muscles tightened and loosened on their own. A prickling itch ringed her pelvis, as if her insides were pulling themselves apart.
Twice a day a rough hand smashed her face down into the gooey mess of the trough, forcing her to drink. It held her there until it was satisfied she had licked up enough of the spunk and opened her mouth to show she had swallowed it all. Fiery itching coated the insides of her mouth and throat after each meal.
Her head lifted. Had she been tied to this hitch for hours? Days? The sun and moon had come and gone. The Centaurum took her body and left their seed on her or in her. She tried not to think, not to talk, to divorce herself from reality, but the despair followed her even into her deepest hiding places, tormenting her with flashes of imagery from a happy life: Her friends, young girls her age, laughing and playing games at the Bonding festivals. Jona, her sweet lover, rolling on his back on the grass, enjoying the sun. Running beside her on the prairie, happiness pulsing through the Bond. Making love, their bodies intertwined, the dog's cock gently entering her and filling her with pleasure by the firelight. And at the end of it all, that bitch Sarah, the mage who betrayed everything Nela had loved. Hate burned deep in her heart, and she sealed it away with the rest of herself.
She could feel the changes deep in her body: hips widening, skin toughening. She could stretch her jaw wider and barely wrap her lips around the bulbous heads thrust in her face. Her pussy didn't hurt anymore. Subtle shifts brought tingling spikes deep in her belly. The Centaurum would play their pricks up and down against her pussy lips, running the head in the slippery channel, and each spurt of horse jizz into her pussy renewed the tickling sensation of subtle movement in her belly.
Hands tightened into fists when her arms jerked against the leather straps. Her pussy was on fire. Thick, veiny horseflesh had pressed against the little girl's pussy, spreading the lips obscenely wide. Nela felt the bulbous head press in, parting the flesh, the flexible walls of the tiny channel stretching out around the vast girth. With a powerful thrust, the horsecock slammed home inside her.
The feeling was a lightning bolt up her spine, sending her into orgasm immediately. Wet pussy lips glided up and down the enormous length as the Centaurum eagerly thrust further inside. Flesh thrust into the long channel, working upwards, cramming inch after inch of the meaty shaft into the tiny girl. The horsecock rubbed against her pussy walls, driving up past her crotch, into her belly, bumping into resistance somewhere just below her stomach.
Her muscles spasmed and she went wild. This was the deepest they had ever taken her. From the first time they had penetrated her, sending her into screaming climax, she had been kept on the quivering edge of constant orgasm. The changes in her body let her take the enormous horsepricks into her mouth, her pussy, even her ass. Her flesh stretched around whatever was shoved into her, and her organs had shifted to accommodate the lengthening of her vagina. She thought there must be 5 hands of horsecock stuffed into her right now, the creature ramming into the little 11-year-old body with eager joy. The pleasure tapered for a moment as she came down from orgasm, gasping for breath, but when the beast came inside her, buckets of warm spunk filling the long channel and flooding out the edge of her pussy, the roaring torrent in her head reached a crescendo again.
They left her alone. Eyes glazed, slumped in her bonds, she shuddered as she came down from orgasm. Layers of horsecum dried on her skin, and the breeze brought the taste of cold ash to her mouth. Another girl was crying nearby. Reality was the cycle from the despair of her bondage to shrieking pleasure as she was impaled on the end of a pounding horsecock. Her body wasn't her own anymore. It embraced her masters, dripping pussy itching for attention when alone, quivering when they entered her, carrying her along in a current of bestial pleasure. The waves of orgasm blotted out everything, but when she came down she could remember a little for a while: someone she had loved and failed, and the shameful certainty that she deserved her fate. And one person: Sarah, a mage. The name burned in her mind like fire. Nela tried to put the awful memories away, to catch the attention of her masters so they would bring her pleasure again.
Almost all of the girls were properly trained now, eagerly taking the full girth of their masters into any hole they wanted. Some of the little 5 and 6-year-olds were taking a bit longer, but they seemed no less enthusiastic. The girls were unlashed from the posts, allowed to stretch and feed on spunk if they wanted before the Centaurum arranged them in lines. Ropes around their waists formed traces connecting each girl to the one behind her and the ends were hitched to wagons of supplies. Wooden bits were fit into their mouths like horses, the reins of each line held by a Centaurum. When the preparations were complete, they slapped the reins, and the girls were all marched out of camp.