Monstrum: Camabahlam - Part 2

By WintermuteX
wintermutex.stories@gmail.com
https://www.asstr.org/~Wintermutex/

Contributions by Clark & Lily
czernobog.n.lilly@gmail.com

Previous stories:
Monstrum: Bitch
Monstrum: Broodmother
Monstrum: Filly
Monstrum: Submission
Monstrum: Jacqueline
Monstrum: Pollination
Monstrum: Grub

Tags: Mg+, bd, best, magic, nc, oral, anal, ped, preg, rape, reluc, viol

Content: Rape, Monster Rape, Sexual Slavery, Young Girls, Magic/Fantasy, Violence, Death, Bondage, Pedophilia, Pregnancy

Morning found the party at a somber breakfast, the remaining 6 mages kneeling around the low rim of a circular marble table in the large common room of their own dwelling. Their soldiers had stood guard all night, the men keeping watch at the many windows and doors of the living areas. Fernanda wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse being assigned this space right at the heart of the city, in the midst of its nightlife. There were plenty of doorways and windows in the Camabahlam dwellings, but never any doors or glass in them - privacy being a thing little valued or needed among the Cambahlam. So, the mages had taken some of the curtains and draped them strategically over the doorways of the alcoves where they slept so they could at least undress and sleep with some modesty. It hadn't helped much. Fernanda had tossed and turned, her mind racing with the haunting echoes of Anabella crying out as she was raped, and every time she was about to nod off, the keen of another little girl reaching orgasm reached her ears from the tightly-packed residences all around them. The Camabahlam didn't slow down at night, it seemed.

Shock and disbelief still lingered on the faces of some of the mages as they ate the breakfast the Cambahlam servants had delivered - cheeses and breads and marinated vegetables stuffed with some kind of shredded meat, all topped with carafes of more of that sweet milk. Despite the beverage's intoxicating properties, it had produced no deleterious effects that morning. Nobody was hung over, not even the soldiers. Indeed even as Fernanda downed her second cup she felt her nerves begin to calm and her hands begin to steady. She would have to remember to ask the king what beast produced such a delicious milk when she met with him later today.

With a clatter of boots, Captain Stendar returned, stomping into the room with his usual lack of grace.

"Archmage," he said gruffly, then jerked his head to request that she follow him out onto the balcony. Fernanda sighed then got up to follow.

Outside, the wide vista of the city stretched out all around them. Their lodgings were seated amongst a plethora of other apartments that rose up the uneven hillside. All around them, steep stone stairways with gilded railings ran up and down and criss-crossed in an orderly chaos, leading to higher terraces and other apartments. Leafy, flowering vines spilled in brilliant colors from the planters that were perched everywhere, and much of the stonework was artfully cut into balustrades and detailed mural carvings of all kinds. Xochtecquinicha was breathtaking, Fernanda thought. A shame it was inhabited by monsters.

"They're gone. Both of them," Captain Stendar said, seeming as if he was just barely keeping an icy rage under control "Matthias and Berenar. They had the third hour's watch. There's a brothel or something like it a block down at the street level - plenty of little girls to enjoy. I'm sure they went there, but now I can't find them, and the patron of the house now refuses to let me in or speak with me."

Fernanda decided not to ask how many of the other men had visited the brothel and returned. It had been a stroke of luck that the Cambahlam had agreed to allow human men into the city with the mages at all. They considered it sacrilege. It could be that the men had met some grisly fate at the hands of a disgruntled Cambahlam, but Fernanda had a sneaking suspicion that the two men had found the city's offerings so enjoyable that they had decided to abandon their duty and stay. She wondered what they had offered to ensure their safety.

"That puts us at 16 men," she said, tapping a finger to her chin in concern.

"And 6 mages," said the Captain. Fernanda winced.

"We can't risk any more..." murmured Fernanda. "We've lost too many already. Tell your men they are to travel only in threes, and that they are forbidden from wandering off and visiting brothels - or anywhere else for that matter - without being accompanied by a mage.

"Oh they'll fucking love that," snarled the captain. "And how long will we be here, months? Shall I tell them that they can't get their pricks polished in the tight little holes of all the girls in this city? Who's going to help them relieve their tension? You, archmage?" The captain's sneer was vile. "As much as I'd like to see you on your knees sucking 16 cocks in a row, I'm not sure even you have that much skill."

"Watch your tone, Captain," said Fernanda, will all of the meager menace she could muster when talking to a grown man twice her size. "Lest your conduct find its way into my reports to the Magisterium."

Captain Stendar threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine, I'll tell them. No brothels. No going anywhere except in packs. But you should take care yourself, archmage, or you'll find a rebellion on your hands. You know nothing of managing soldiers."

"I know," Fernanda admitted. "I have only your expertise to draw on in that matter. Thank you, Captain.

The man nodded and mock saluted and then turned to storm back into the apartments. Fernanda sighed and swept her gaze over the city. It was gorgeous, yet brimming with some kind of malevolent promise that Fernanda could practically feel in her skin. She longed to summon her magic, to sweep all of this gilded filth away and rescue the Cambahlam's victims. It was only the knowledge that the slaves here - the girls that pitched and writhed and moaned on the barbed ends of all those Cambahlam cocks - would not want to be rescued. Whatever Conversion effects were in the monster's semen had long since seeped into their bellies and their cunts, altering their bodies along with their desires. They craved their own subjugation now, relished their role as the sexual trophies of the monstrous Camabahlam.

Fernanda's fingers clenched the railing until her knuckles turned white. Anabella. Their dead men. Their sacrifices wouldn't be in vain, she swore it. She was meeting with King Tlaloc today, and she would use her skill and her power to pacify the beast and garner the peace that Teleria desired, and nothing - not the intimidating creatures nor their pathetic heathen goddess - would stand in her way.

Fernanda had grown up on a farm. She had shoveled cow shit when she was 6. Never in her wildest dreams had that humble little girl imagined that she would ascend to the rank of Archmage by 13 and rub shoulders with kings and queens in places like this. All around them the splendor of the palace shone in golden columns and statues of lustrous marble. The mages with her walked slacked-jawed and staring, in awe of the wealth on display. The hall leading to the throne room was decorated with fine weapons and jeweled armors, lightly mounted and not packed into displays. They looked as if they were meant to be taken down and used instead of left to age in glass cases like artifacts in Teleria might. Alternating columns of polished stone swirled with intricate designs as they passed: circular murals of fiendish and exotic beasts being stalked by panther-like hunters with swords and spears. Poor Tatiana, thought Fernanda. The girl looked distressed to the point of agony that the guards wouldn't stop and let her sketch them. Instead the whole party - all 6 mages and 16 remaining soldiers - were lead in a column into the great throne room of King Tlaloc.

Camabahlam soldiers lined the carpeted pathway to the throne, staring straight ahead at each other in pairs. Fernanda led the way and approached the dais. The king was sprawled slovenly on a wide throne of what looked like lacquered limestone. His headdress spilled over the side with the end draped on the floor as he watched them approach with a smile of amusement on his muzzle.

"Noble King Tlaloc," said Fernanda, holding the short skirt of her mage uniform and dipping into a deep curtsy that she hoped didn't flash her cunt too much. "Foremost of the Cambahlam, Chief Violator, Rapist of the Toltec: we greet you again."

The headdress moved like a sinuous feathered tail as the king rolled to his feet with all the grace of a lazy cat.

"Greetings and Welcome, little magic girls from Teleria." His gruff voice rang with authority, booming in the hall as he towered over them, his substantial height bolstered even further by the dais. The grey whiskers and dangling tufts of pale lanky hair from his chin lent an air of aged gravity to his presence.

"Your party is greeted. Your delegation is welcomed. You have feasted the hospitality of the Camabahlam and witnessed us at sport. We are now prepared to receive your supplication."

The king seated himself again, taking a more regal posture this time and eyeing them like a feline considering a party of mice.

"We are no supplicants," said Fernanda, stepping forward from the party. "Teleria would not send the mighty Cambahlam its lessers, to grovel and fill your ears with honeyed words. We are the Magi Imperium, granted authority from the queen of Teleria herself to treat with your highness as equal parties."

Yes. Perfectly done. Fernanda congratulated herself. Her elocution classes hadn't gone to waste. She expected the king to respond in kind and then they could begin the negotiations.

Instead he guffawed, tails flicking with delight as he practically rolled in his throne. Thundering bellylaughs filled the air of the high-ceilinged throne room, all the guards joining in and mocking the mages with jovial howls of mirth. Fernanda blushed crimson, and forced down the sudden burst of anger. She stood steady and tall, staff in hand, allowing them to finish, pretending it didn't faze her.

"Wonderful," said the king, wiping a tear from his eye with a paw. "I have not laughed so hard since the Atheleni sent their declaration of war. We conquered their cities within a year and gave their queen and her daughters to the Tecuanitzli. Even now they rut in the pits, mates for the beasts that so offended them in the first place." He turned to a human female at his side, one of the few older women that Fernanda had seen. She looked about 30.

"How long has it been?" the king asked her.

"Five years, my king. Enough for three generations. The queen and her daughters are raped by their own offspring day and night."

Fernanda winced. Poor Anabella. The girl's screams would probably haunt Fernanda for the rest of her life. She pushed the regret away and forced herself to focus on her task, then spoke again.

"Though the Cambahlam are mighty, no such fate shall befall us. We are Magi, wielding the power of the infinite primality of the cosmos. All of nature bends before our art, yet we have come bearing the branch of peace."

"How droll," murmured the king, sitting forward with an amused expression. "I have heard this claim before, from the Toltec Magisterium. Let me further your education, little mage: the Toltec threatened us, besieged the islands where our ancestors held dominion, used their powers against us. The Cambahlam responded to their atrocities, conquering their cities, defeating their warriors, and taking their women for our wives. They serve us now, and their daughters glorify the goddess when they cry out with pleasure."

Funny, that wasn't how Fernanda had heard it. The king had shifted his weight, fixing Fernanda with a piercing glare.

"We take what we please now, from them and others. When the goddess found us we were as beasts, living in crude huts, hunted by your kind. Now we are the masters."

He snapped his fingers, and a small girl who looked a mere 5 years old stepped forth from the many girls of all ages that stood waiting around the dais. She was dressed scantily, with long drooping armlets and a sheer vest of gauzy silken cloth hanging open in front to expose her bare chest. She climbed the dais and then crawled up onto the throne, resting herself on the king's knee.

King Tlaloc grunted, groping the little girl, feeling her flat breasts and her tiny, pert little ass. A jeweled stud was embedded in the girl's belly button, and she had anklets of gold with small tufts of those colored feathers attached. Fernanda kept quiet, wondering what the significance of the feathers was. In seconds the king was erect, his massive cock jutting out of his robe and rubbing against the little girl's tight belly. With his big paws he gripped her hips, pulling her up into the air, and then letting her rest with the tip of the massive prick lodged against her tiny pudenda before penetrating her with a sharp thrust.

Tatiana opened her Factorum and began furiously scribbling notes. The other mages looked to the sides, embarrassed, unable to do anything about the violation of the tiny girl happening right in front of them. Fernanda stood tall, staff firmly planted, but couldn't help averting her gaze. It came to rest on a golden idol fixed on a ledge above the dais.

The idol depicted the gilded form of a lithe young girl on her knees, one hand planted on the ground but the other raised up as if to curl around an unseen assailant. From the detailed play of her taut muscles she seemed to be locked in some kind of struggle, pushing as if to resist something from behind. The expression on her face was tearful, but conflicted, as if her great struggle was juxtaposed with an unwilling pleasure. The idol was so fantastically detailed, so lifelike, that Fernanda could almost feel her supple muscles and see the twitching ecstasy on her face as the unseen assailant overpowered her and began its eager violation of her young body. Fernanda stared. The girl's eyes had an exotic curve and were set with a tiny amber topaz in each. She was astonishingly beautiful, ripe with the lush innocence of youth. For a moment, Fernanda fancied that she could hear the moans of the girl finally surrendering herself to her assailant, but it was only the little wiggling 5-year-old finally succumbing to her climax on the thrashing end of the king's massive cock.

Amber cum dripped from the tiny hairless slit as the king extricated the girl from his tremendous organ. She had gone limp, heaving and sweating after her orgasm. The king dismissed her with a slap on her tiny rump and she trotted out to take her place again with the other waiting girls.

So young. Fernanda contemplated the little girl, who stood with amber semen dripping down her legs and a satisfied look on her face. She seemed perfectly happy with her belly pumped full of monster cum. Could she get pregnant at 5? The Conversion effects of some Monstrum species altered body physiology to such an extent that ovulation and conception could occur at nearly any age, regardless of the onset of puberty. Judging by the girls they had seen so far, the Camabahlam were the same. A detail Tatiana had no doubt meticulously documented in her lengthy notes.

"Why do you take them so young?" Fernanda asked absently, blurting out the words before thinking about them. She instantly regretted it. Why ask the wind why it blew? Monstrum loved little girl pussy. It was fundamental to their nature.

The King seemed amused by her question. He gestured to another woman at his side - a naked 20-something wearing a vibrant headdress of feathers like the Cambahlam warriors themselves - prompting her to answer.

"The younger a girl is raped, the more it pleases the Goddess," intoned the woman. Fernanda suspected she was some kind of priestess. How could the Goddess of Rape have human women serving her?

"When a girl is young, and pure, it is closer to the Goddess's true form. She is a blessed vessel," said the woman, gesturing to the young girl with the dripping cunt. "She was captured as a toddler from our enemies by King Tlaloc himself. She screamed during her sacred rape at the altar, giving glory to the Goddess with her anguish. Now she serves eagerly. Soon the King's seed will take root in her and she will begin to bear more warriors for the tribe. Such is the blessed change wrought in the impure by holy Xochiquetzal."

The priestess stopped her recitation and glanced again at the young 5-year-old.

"It is better than humans like us deserve," she sneered. "If she had displeased the king, she might have been given to the Tecuanitzli that her brood might glorify the-"

She stopped abruptly when the king held up his hand, his expression indicating that he had grown tired of her pontificating. Bowing deeply, she stepped back to her position with the other attendants.

Fernanda wondered if the whole room could hear her teeth grinding. She had heard more than enough about this revolting goddess of theirs. She was supposed to be gathering information - maybe the depiction of Xochiquetzal in that idol was significant - but she had the sudden desire to get all of this over with as quickly as possible, with as favorable of a deal as possible.

And she was well-trained in diplomacy, if not quite as well-experienced. She already knew the path she would take to manipulate the King: he was just a male, after all. Primitive. Lustful. Appeal to his base instincts: sex and power.

"Great King," she began, as if the interruptions had never happened, "We are prepared to let you keep the girls you have raped and enslaved. Teleria will surrender the wives and daughters of the merchants who came to these shores seeking only peaceful trade. They are yours. If you stay in the confines of your kingdom and take no more Telerian citizens, then our Queen will stay her hand, and our armies will not sail the Crescent Sea to slay your warriors, plunder your cities, burn your crops, salt the Earth where they stood, and take back our noble daughters that have suffered under your hand."

The King silenced the fresh round of laughter before it could begin with a wave of his hand. Whiskers twitching with amusement, he leaned forward to regard Fernanda.

"How generous the Telerians are, to let us keep what is ours." Sarcasm edged his menacing grin.

"Consider the gains of peace with Teleria," Fernanda went on. "We know you are beset with your own enemies and your empire is unstable. With no worry of a threat from the sea, you would have time to marshal your forces and fend off your current opponents."

The King leaned back again in his throne like a lazy cat, grinning. Fernanda tried to ignore the bobbing erection of his 4-foot cock waving in the air, still slimy with amber cum and the aroused juices of a freshly-raped little girl.

"In addition, we have a number of magical artifacts to offer you. Objects of power, of wisdom and strength. Assets that your highness could use to cement his reign and uplift his people."

"Magic doesn't interest me," he sneered. "Untrustworthy. What else can you offer?"

"We are prepared to concede this land and the Meridia Isles which lie in the sea between our kingdoms."

"They are ours already by right." The King's fingers tapped impatiently on the stone armrest of his throne. His triple tails rolled and flicked like a cat toying with its prey.

Fernanda sighed. He was going to be difficult. Maybe power wouldn't work. Sex, then.

"The bounty of...of our women, we are prepared to offer, but only if-"

"No. Not women. Girls. Juicy little cunts like yours." The King licked his muzzle, eyeing Fernanda hungrily. "How many?"

"We are prepared to divest ourselves of the waifs and beggars that litter our streets and clog our prisons. Let us say...20 young girls, subject to your approv-"

"I want 10 times that," the King spat.

"No," Fernanda said sternly, holding her staff with an increasingly nervous grip. This wasn't going very well. She had to get the King to agree to something.

"And I want them delivered fresh with every new moon," the King went on. "Virgins may count for two, if you like, but rest assured we will thoroughly inspect each one."

"Absolutely not!" Fernanda stood tall, furious. She tried to resist pulling in the magic she relied on for her strength. It hummed just tantalizingly out of sight, an eternal river of rushing power begging her to tap into it.

The King snapped to his feet, looming over Fernanda from the dais. His fangs were showing, his claws out, tails lashing angrily.

"You filthy Telerians! You sail your ships near our shores, then whine when we best them and claim them as our own. You violate our borders, then come to us like snivelling dogs begging to have your scraps returned! Impudent! Impotent!"

The King stalked down from his throne and barged up right in front of Fernanda, towering over her and looking down threateningly from his 9-foot height. Screaming with terror inside, Fernanda just barely managed to resist pulling the magic into her grip, trying desperately to keep her knees from knocking, the raw fear from showing. The King was so massive, with rippling pectorals and biceps that seemed to bulge with rage. He could tear her apart with his bare hands if he chose. She tilted her head back to look up, staring him in the face.

"What if I decided to take your little delegation prisoner and rape your little magical cunt right now?" he asked scornfully. His naked cock bobbed threateningly in Fernanda's face like a cruel promise.

"I don't think you will." Fernanda kept the tremor from her voice and forced a confident smile.

"The prospect of tribute from Teleria is too enticing a prospect for you to risk it just for me."

The King's tails were lashing. They were thick, with coarse purple fur. Fernanda wondered just how strong they were, remembering how the Cambahlam at the feast used them to restrain his opponent. He was so massive, so imposing. He could reach down and choke her out before she could cast. He could backhand her across the room. He could snatch the staff out of her hands in the blink of an eye with those tails...

Instead he stalked back to his throne and took a seat again, leaning lazily to the side and glaring at her. His expression was frustrated, with just a hint of newfound respect. She had been right. He was probably used to bluffing his way through most things, but for all his vaunted power she had stood up to him and come through unscathed.

"We will consider your proposal and make offerings to determine if it will please the Goddess," he said, snarling. "Return at the half-moon and we will speak again."

Fernanda's heart sank. That was over two weeks from now. Well, she had known this probably would not be a quick process. She turned and made a gesture for her own party, and the arrayed soldiers turned in formation and began to march them out, escorting the column of mages on either side.

Funny, how vulnerable even their well-trained soldiers looked next to the Camabahlam. Fernanda compared the men to the line of standing Cambahlam guards lining the edge of the hall as they walked. The men were shorter by over a head, with just their leather and banded mail. The Monsters must see them as weak. Laughable, pink-skinned things. Animals. And the little girls, even weaker still. Just pitiful, delicate objects, fit only to be fondled and groped and enjoyed for the delights of their curvy bodies and tight insides. Why else would they wear such provocative uniforms that showed off so much of their sweet and enticing little bodies?

For just a moment, Fernanda saw them that way too: easy conquests, delightful toys that would wiggle and squeal when thick hard cocks were sunk into their tight pussies. Inferior, fit only to bear the seed of their superiors until their bellies were tight and swollen.

Fernanda looked back at the sulking king and the idol on the ledge above. She had the strongest impression that it was watching her, the topaz eyes fixed on her tiny form as she strode out of the throne room. Overconfident. Delicious. A prize waiting to be raped and bred, just as the form of the girl herself was depicting. It was tremendously unsettling. Fernanda felt her heart begin to race.

The feeling was gone in a flash. They emerged from the long hallway into the cool air and the bustle of the city. The breeze whipped Fernanda's hair to the side and flipped her skirt up, and she tried desperately to smooth it down again, ignoring the grins from both the Camabahlam and the human men as they stole a view of her hairless pussy. The mage uniforms all varied from rank to rank, but they were always scandalous in the extreme. Why couldn't the Magisterium afford just a little more dreamcloth so that the Archmage didn't have to endure the leers of both men and monsters as she tried to enact her duties?

It didn't matter. She was used to it. They all were. With a curt gesture, she motioned for the Cambahlam to lead them back to their quarters.

There was nothing to do but wait.

Fernanda sat with her legs to the side, leaning against an overstuffed pillow as she tried to write a letter on the table. Why did all the furniture in this cursed city have to be so wide and so low to the ground? It was impossible to tell where the Toltec's influence ended and the Camabahlam's began, after so many years. With their massive bodies it didn't seem like the Camabahlam would want to design their furniture to barely come up to their knees, but on the other hand, they seemed to enjoy having each surface serve as a bench or a table, as needed, and the furniture was just the right height to bend a little slave girl over for a good ripe fucking. Fernanda had witnessed more than her share of that activity in the last week just from looking out the windows of their quarters at any time of the day or night.

She laid the pen down in frustration and let her head drop into her hands. Her magic could get a letter back to the Magisterium unharmed, but what could she possibly say to Luke? Dear Luke, guess how many girls my age I saw raped today? She had tried to stick to safe subjects and assure him she was ok, but it seemed hollow. At least her report to the Magisterium itself would be full of their observations. Despite her great reluctance, she had allowed Tatiana to implore one of their Camabahlam keepers to masturbate in front of them so Tatiana could record the volume of the ejaculate. The girl had also recorded a very detailed sketch of the Camabahlam spines after a close-up examination of the guard's erect penis. The creature had sneered as the little girl examined his genitalia, but had been compliant enough. Tatiana seemed much too fascinated by the whole affair. That was what a life of pure research did to you, Fernanda mused. Information for information's sake. But it was information the Magisterium wanted to know for the Factorum and that was all that mattered.

Fernanda managed to scratch out the last few lines of her letter and seal it with wax. then cast the folding spell that would slip the letter through the cracks between space and time to arrive at the Magisterium. She was watching idly as the letter faded from existence when she heard a commotion out in the common room.

Grabbing her staff, Fernanda pulled aside the drapery that covered the open doorway of her sleeping quarters and charged out. Half a dozen Camabahlam had entered the common room, interrupting the girls as they were bathing and dressing for the morning. They must have barged in - probably ignoring the demands of the men to stay out - and been delighted to find the mages unarmed and in various states of undress.

"Knock it off!" Emily yelled. She was standing in the bathing pool, naked, with the water up to her thighs. She swatted at the hand of the Cambahlam reaching for her. The creature laughed and ignored the swat, groping at her flat tits and reaching around to cup her wet, naked bottom.

"Delicious, hmmm. So sweet you are. I wonder if your cunt tastes as sweet?"

The Camabahlam laughed together. Another bent to pick up a sheer uniform from where it was draped at the side of the pool. Shayla reached out to grab it but he yanked it up and held it mockingly out of reach.

"Pretty little uniforms for pretty little pussies," he jeered. "We dress our slaves well but when I make you ichpoyectli you can keep wearing this, if you like. I will enjoy watching you shriek and shudder in this when I enter you."

"Just try it!" snarled Shayla. "I'll rip off your cock, set it on fire, and ram it up your own ass if you touch me!"

She probably would too, Fernanda thought. The girl never let sense get in the way of her temper. More Camabahlam were moving about, intimidating the girls, groping them. The rest of the mages backed away, frightened, completely unprepared for the intrusion. Fernanda was furious. They were mages! They had the finest training the kingdom could offer, but they had been unnerved by simply being caught in the bath.

She took a risk. She swept her staff, knocking away the reaching hands of all the creatures with several simultaneous blasts of force. They backed off, only slightly intimidated and still leering, eyeing the naked girls up and down and making what sounded like catcalls, so Fernanda cast again, drawing water from the bath into curtains of mist that she wrapped around each girl, enshrouding their naked bodies like clothing.

"Begone," Fernanda ordered them. Remember that we are under the king's protection as long as we wear the Tlaquani." Fernanda gestured to the crown of feathers on her head. This seemed to sober up the Camabahlam, who apparently feared their king's wrath far more than they did the power of the mages.

"Send in your captain. I will speak with him. Go!"

She slashed commandingly with her staff, though she drew no magic, and it seemed to get the beasts moving. They left reluctantly, still staring hungrily at the troupe of girls, their smiles full of rapacious promise.

"From now on, every mage will keep their staff in arm's reach," she instructed them, "even when you bathe or do your business. Understand?"

They nodded, chastened. Fernanda was embarrassed for them. They had let their guard down. She would have to find some way to remind them of the peril they were in while in the city.

The Cambahlam captain swaggered in a moment later, wearing a fiendish grin. He had probably told his crew to summon the girls from inside to meet him in the street, knowing full well how it would throw them into disarray. The rest of the mages had dressed quickly - an easy feat when your only clothes were sheer dressings that barely covered your privates - and were standing ready, staffs in hand, ready to meet him.

"We will take a tour of the city," said Fernanda. "You will show us everything."

The captain licked his muzzle as he regarded her. His silky fur had subtle streaks of violet verging on red mixed with the dominant purple, and his headdress trailed down behind him almost long enough to touch the ground. A bola hung from one of his hips and a broad sword rested in a leather sheath on his back. He cut an intimidating figure, graceful and feline, but also with the towering presence and imposing musculature so typical of his race. Fernanda held her ground, meeting his bestial stare, trying to ignore the rippling pectorals under the bare skin on his chest. Camabahlam skin was as black as tar in the few spots where they had no fur - mainly their chest and genitals. Fernanda had seen enough of those massive organs of tight rippling flesh the last few days. She ignored the growing bulge in the creature's loincloth as it leered at her, eyes gliding over her girlish figure and curving hips, a decadent grin beginning to split his catlike face. Her look of defiance must have seemed laughable to the creature.

"Of course, Archmage," he replied. "The King has granted his hospitality to you and your slaves. Follow me and you shall witness the glory of Xochtecquinicha."

"They're not my slaves," Fernanda huffed. "We are the Magi of - nevermind. Lead the way."

Fernanda headed the group of girls and human soldiers as their guide turned and led them out from their quarters and down the steep steps that descended the terrace. They couldn't afford to just lounge about wasting time. It was only another week from the half moon now and the spring season was almost halfway over. The Magisterium would want a better report after her next meeting with the King, and she needed to find something, anything, that could give her an advantage in their negotiations. Without more information, she had no hope that their next encounter would go any better.

As they entered a landing and turned to descend another series of stone steps, the city began to spread out before them: buildings of dark stone crammed with squarish carvings of serpents and feathered birds and innumerable fantastic beasts. The larger buildings and dwellings had lighter masonry, gilded in strategic spots that made them flash in the sun. Gentle sounds of pouring water came from the smooth waterfalls that wound their creeping ways down the terraces, soaking the gardens of hanging vines and flowers that seemed to spring up at every turn. The party crossed a small bridge over one of these canals, and Fernanda saw lilies floating in the water, peaceful and idyllic next to a bounty of fallen red blossoms that lingered on the surface like something out of a fairytale.

This was no storybook city though, Fernanda kept reminding herself. Monstrum civilization was unheard of - the numerous species were always too chaotic, too warlike and nomadic, like the Org-reh and the Ettu and the Centaurum. The rest were simply beasts anyway, unintelligent, like Rapewolves and the bear-like Ursa. Monstrum didn't live in cities. But the Camabahlam, they had shattered her expectations at every turn. Most of this they had stolen from the Toltec, but she had expected dirty huts at best, and filthy feline predators that stalked the large lizards of the jungle and ate raw meat and despoiled everything they touched. Not...this.

"What is that?" asked Fernanda, as they passed some sort of alcove partially hidden inside a covered archway. Flowers and jewels and other offerings were piled at the feet of a golden idol depicting a serpentine dragon with feathered wings and a head like a viper, rearing up in a regal posture with its wings outspread.

"A shrine for the Goddess," answered their guide. "We please her with offerings every night the moon shines, but we worship only at the temple."

"But...I saw the idol of your Goddess, a young girl," Fernanda said, confused.

Their guide laughed. "The mystery of her three forms. You have not witnessed it. Look closer, little mage."

Fernanda did, carefully noting the features of the dragon form of this Goddess. It was reared up in a powerful stance, but was also slightly coiled as if struggling with some kind of unseen prey. Fernanda shrugged while Tatiana sketched the idol. She really wasn't all that interested in their vile heathen goddess.

"It's very um...nice. Lead on." She gestured, and their guide turned and led them further into the city.

The sounds of hawkers crying and bartering began to fill the air as they neared ground level, and the party began to pass foot traffic from the main thoroughfare. As they went under an arch decorated with carvings of twisting winged serpents, Fernanda passed two girls her own age: both dressed lewdly but enticingly in sheer coverings decorated with small hanging discs of flashing bronze. Veils covered their mouths, and subtle makeup edged their lips and cheeks with glowing hues. Each had half her face painted with slanted lines in what looked like a stylistic depiction of a bird. The girls spared the mages a curious glance as they passed. What could their role possibly be, Fernanda wondered? The Camabahlam seemed to spare no small effort to dress their sex slaves as attractively as possible and encourage them in erotic arts for their own pleasure.

Their guide turned a corner and they emerged onto the main street, with all of its din and bustle. Fernanda waved a hand and kept them moving. All around them were Camabahlam and their girl slaves, most moving along on their business, but more than a few engaged in blatant carnal acts that now seemed so commonplace to Fernanda. A pair of small girls perhaps 8 years old were kneeling, shirts open to expose their flat breasts and pink little nipples as they held their mouths open. Their Camabahlam master was jerking off into their faces, and as Fernanda watched he stiffened and growled and his pulsing black cock suddenly splattered a firehose of amber goo onto the faces and bare chests of the girls. They stood up and moved on, following their master without bothering to cover or clean themselves. Other Cambahlam were taking pleasure where they pleased: leaning against the stone terraces, bucking into bent-over little girls near the burbling fountains, or growling and rubbing their cocks as kneeling girls pleasured their massive organs with their tongues and mouths. The party passed a booth where a Camabahlam vendor and a small, naked girl perhaps 6 were selling melons and other exotic fruits. Customers idly pawed the girl as they shopped, grinning, and she smiled back. Fernanda wondered if buying the sweet fruits came with a complimentary fuck of her sweet little pussy.

She shook her head to dispel the thought. The whole scene resembled a depraved version of a normal street that could be found in any human city. They soldiered on, following their guide and passing the various buildings on the main avenue. Emily walked to Fernanda's right, peeking with embarrassed looks at the sexual displays taking place all around them, and Tatiana was to her left, humming as she sketched in her Factorum. She was inking a detailed picture of the city - its skyline and buildings and the various forms of small girls engaged in a seemingly endless variety of sex acts with their Camabahlam masters.

"Your city certainly is...lively," ventured Fernanda to their guide. "There are more Monstrum species here than I've ever seen in one place."

"All are welcome, so long as they follow our laws," said their guide. "Human girls like you aren't allowed on your own unless you're with your Master or on his business."

"We have the king's protection," Fernanda reminded him, touching the Tlaquani that crowned her head.

"That's the only reason I haven't bent you over and tasted your cunt yet," sneered the Camabahlam with a scornful shake of his head. The feathers of his headdress rustled down his back. "You dress like a Tuahuanquati - a pleasure dancer who longs to please with her body. Would you like to dance for me, little magic girl? Do it well and I'll give you the pleasure of my cock for a whole night."

"Don't speak to us that way!" bristled Fernanda. "We are the lawful delegation of ambassadors from Teleria! The Magi Imperium!"

"You are slutmongers with big heads and ripe pussies," laughed the Camabahlam. "I wonder if you would speak so large with cum dripping on your faces."

"You wouldn't dare," breathed Fernanda, her cheeks flush with humiliation.

The Camabahlam shrugged. "The king protects you...for now. Should he change his mind, that little one will be the first to taste my seed. She is pleasing to the eye."

He pointed and Fernanda turned to see Emily. The girl had wandered across the street to a stall, and was fingering the wares: long, thick shafts of wood and bone and carved with fleshy ridges and bulging crowns at the tips. They were in a dizzying array of shapes and sizes. They almost looked like...

Fernanda stalked across the street and grabbed Emily's arm just as the girl held up a particularly large implement with a mushroom tip and a generous shaft with a line of tiny spikes running down the center of the underside. Emily dropped the thing with a clatter.

"Ow. Hey!"

"Time to go," murmured Fernanda, jerking her away and back to the waiting party.

"But I wanted to buy one," said Emily, looking backwards at the stall and the guffawing Camabahlam behind the counter. "He said they bring luck if you hang them up near your bed and touch them every day."

"I'm sure they do," said Fernanda tightly. God, Emily was such a child sometimes. She yanked her back to the party none too gently, to the smirk of their Camabahlam guide.

"We're tired of this market. Show us something else," she said testily. The Camabahlam chuckled deeply, then beckoned them onwards.

The party turned off the main road onto a landscaped street with bushy grass running down the margins and tightly-packed home on both sides with vines crawling up their stone walls. It was much quieter here, with all the hawkers left behind them. It seemed almost like a peaceful neighborhood. They walked for a few minutes as the road curved around, following the hillside, then Fernanda stopped short and Emily almost ran into her when they passed by a particular dwelling.

She felt herself gawking, but she couldn't help it. On the patio were multiple girls of all ages, from 4 up to 18, most of them sporting big pregnant bellies. Tiny Camabahlam cubs nursed at the engorged breasts of a few of the girls, and some of the larger cubs toddled between them, playing with each other like mewling kittens. That wasn't unusual though. What had so shocked her was that virtually all of the pregnant girls were being attended to by older human women in relatively dowdy coverings that were squeezing and massaging the girl's breasts, and collecting the trickling milk into glass bottles with wide necks.

"Wh-what," sputtered Fernanda, feeling slightly nauseous. "Is that...is that the milk we've been drinking?"

"The Yachitli, the sweet-milk," their guide confirmed, nodding his head. "It makes our warriors strong and healthy, and able to sire many cubs." His headdress bobbed as he nodded at one of the girls, a tiny thing perhaps 4 years old with a bloated pregnant belly, eyes fluttering and lips curled into an aroused gasp as her tiny breasts were hand-milked by two women seated on stools in front of her.

"You're kidding..." gulped Emily, her mouth hanging open, staring.

"Fascinating," murmured Tatiana. The girl seemed nonplussed. Predictably, she began to scribble notes in her Factorum.

"We-we can't drink any more of that. Bring us water from now on," Fernanda told their guide. He frowned at them as if he had been offered the most dire insult.

"To refuse the Yachitli is to spit in the face of your host, who so generously offered the fruits of his ichpoyectli. It is the worst insult that can be given. If you spurn the King's hospitality, he will cut out your tongues and make you Quentzani, toilet-slaves, for the rest of your miserable lives, and you will be permitted only to drink from the sewers."

Fernanda gulped. Maybe it wasn't so bad. After all, human milk was healthy for you. Babes drank it and grew strong. It probably wasn't any weirder than drinking cow's milk, after all. She motioned for the other gawking mages to stay silent.

The sky boomed angrily, and within moments a heavy downpour was raining on their heads. The dark clouds had snuck up on them like thieves. Fernanda had noticed these sudden showers taking place every day they had been here, the sky spontaneously opening up and disgorging what seemed like an endless waterfall of rain. They were frequent, but usually over in minutes. That was no help though, caught out in the open as they were. The whole party was already totally soaked, heavy rivulets running down the faces and hair of the girls and soaking their uniforms through, plastering the silky dreamcloth to their wet chests and thighs.

"Take us back!" Fernanda shouted. Their guide stood mockingly, hiding his leering grin but letting his eyes roam over the exposed bodies of the girls. Dreamcloth became almost totally transparent when doused. They might as well be naked.

"Take us back!" she shouted again, but thunder cut off her words. Their guide cupped his hand to his ear, pretending as if he couldn't hear her. He seemed unfazed by the shower of water. It trickled along his sleek fur and dripped from his muzzle.

"Damnit!" Fernanda stomped impotently, and briefly considered using magic to stop the rain or at least to cover them. Bad idea. No sense risking their entire mission just to keep a little bit of rain off. She sighed, resigned to yet another humiliation in a long string of them.

A trio of playing Camabahlam cubs had spilled out of the patio and onto the wet stones of the street. One scampered over to Emily on all fours like a feisty miniature panther, then stood up in front of her.

"Eeecheyi! Quanti Eeeeeeecheyi!" The cub laughed, pointing at Emily's naked body so easily visible through her pitifully wet uniform, and Fernanda watched in disbelief as the little thing grasped its erect cock and began to jack off in front of her.

"Agh! Stop it you little rat!" shrieked Emily, stepping back. The cub kept laughing, jacking harder, and came forward. His paw moved like lightning up and down his tiny black cock, and in moments a spurt of amber goo lanced out and up and splattered right into Emily's face.

"Eeeek! Get it off! Yuck!" Emily flailed her hands. The cub was already gone, howling with childish laughter as it disappeared with a spirited flash of its little tails. Amber cum dripped from her nose and cheeks, mixing with the soggy drizzle of the rain. Their guide was howling with laughter, holding his belly and pointing at the mage with the semen splattered on her face.

"Interesting," said Tatiana, moving closer to peer at Emily's face from a few inches away. "Semen from the younger Camabahlam has a more syrupy consistency. There may be compositional differences relevant to their Conversion effects."

"Yes, fascinating," Fernanda muttered, rolling her eyes. Emily was bouncing girlishly from one foot to the other, seemingly unwilling even to touch the yucky mess on her face. Fernanda felt a jolt of horror as Tatiana suddenly ran a finger through the dripping cum on Emily's cheek, then put it in her mouth."

"Stop that!" she hissed, jerking Tatiana's arm. The girl looked at her calmly.

"Small amounts of exposure pose little threat. We needed to investigate the sample before the rain washed it away, Archmage."

"Fine. Great. Maybe clear it with me before you do any more 'investigating', Tatiana." Fernanda practically growled with irritation. Funny, how irritable everything felt recently. It wasn't like her. It must be the stress of dealing with all...all of this.

The rain suddenly let up, departing as quickly as it came, leaving moistened paving stones all around them that steamed with jungle heat. Fernanda looked around at the girls: they looked like a bunch of drowned rats, not the majestic and commanding masters of arcane secrets that they needed to be.

"Take us back to our quarters," she commanded again, her voice straining with barely contained fury. The captain was still laughing, his tails flicking with mirth.

"Are you sure...sure you don't want to stay, little mage?" he gasped, in between guffaws. "Gather more samples for your Magi Imperium? I could provide one personally for each of you."

"No!" shouted Fernanda. She had had enough. She waved furiously and their guide finally began to lead them away, still chuckling. So much for their dignity. Could this day possibly get any worse? They had been rained on. They had been cummed on. They had discovered the source of that vile milk. Fernanda felt like she wanted to retch, but at the same time her tongue tingled to taste it again. It was that good. And worst of all, they had learned nothing. Nothing that would help her negotiate with King Tlaloc, anyway.

Fernanda waited until they were safely back in their quarters and the Camabahlam were gone before casting a spell to dry them out. Just a little bit of magic from a tiny spell. They would never know. The girls breathed easier as their uniforms fluffed themselves and their hair returned to normal. The Camabahlam didn't fear magic, but they did detest it. They had made it very clear that no magic was permitted in their city, but as Fernanda cast her forbidden spell the thought gave her a sudden idea.

"Listen," she said, waving the other mages closer. "We're going to have to cheat, to get an edge. We'll never get what we want if we play by the rules."

"What do you have in mind archmage?" asked Nina. The girl was holding her staff tightly, as if ready for a fight. Battlemages were always a little jumpy. Fernanda made a placating gesture.

"Nothing dangerous. We'll just do a little bit of looking about. Do you think they would have showed us anything they didn't want us to see on that tour today? That bastard was probably laughing inside the whole time he was leading us around. We'll never find anything interesting that way. That's why we have to look around ourselves."

"Well we do kind of stick out here," said Emily. "I mean, maybe we could disguise ourselves, but if any passing Camabahlam decided that they wanted to...you know..."

"No, no, that's not what I mean," said Fernanda, wrinkling her nose. "We'll look around with magic."

"Scrying?" said Nina. "I was never any good at that."

"Well luckily I am," said Fernanda. "Very good actually. I used to scry the answers to our tests at the academy without the Maesters detecting me."

Murmurs of admiration hummed around the circle of girls.

"Here, gather close. Hold your magic and link it with mine." Fernanda began to gather power for her spell, slowly, subtly, like a tiny hum growing unnoticed. She felt the power of the other mages linking with hers, small streams joining together to form a river. The power began to move, to flow, to rush with urgent energy, a primal current of simmering life and power waiting for ignition. Fernanda coaxed it, fed it into strands, wove them into each other in intricate patterns, folding reality in the particular way she had been taught. The floor seemed to fall away, the room to fade into mist. Insubstantial. Unreal. For a brief moment she felt the presence of the other girls as they all hovered in the nothingness that lay between everything, and then she gave a tiny push, letting the spell guide them to what they sought: something interesting, something the Camabahlam didn't want them to see.

Darkness. A low moaning sound. Slowly, a shaft of blinding light coalesced before them. They were in a circular chamber of mossy stone, damp and earthy, with twisting vines barely obscuring blashphemous carvings on the walls. A crude altar of stone bore a naked girl atop it, lying flat on her back against a cold slab. She looked perhaps 6 years old, beautiful and perfectly unblemished. The harsh light from above flooded her body, painting her nude flesh white.

"Yectenehua, duacti yectenehua..."

The voice came from behind, droning, a foreboding presence. Fernanda could not have turned her head, since neither she nor the other mages were really there, but she was aware of the human priestess as the woman approached the altar. Feathers spilled from her headdress in a colorful cascade down her back, swaying as the woman walked, and she held a small tin in her hands.

The white light brought her into full view as the woman stopped at the altar. She looked down at the naked, mumbling girl whose low moaning filled the chamber. The woman nodded to herself, seemingly satisfied at the girl's state, then dipped a finger into her tin and pulled it out dripping with red paint.

Yectenehua, duacti tu yectenehua Xochiquetzal..." she droned, tracing a brilliant red circle slowly around the girl's navel. Her words rumbled on, again and again, an almost hypnotic rhythm accompanying the girl's erratic moaning. Her fingers traced a sharp, straight line that pierced the circle, starting between the little girl's flat breasts and running straight down to her crotch. The girl flinched at the touch, her moaning increasing.

The priestess smiled, looking down at the tiny girl. It was not a cruel smile, but neither was it kind. It was tight with a raw hunger, tinged with a violent appetite, a promise of pain to come, of pleasure, of the consuming defilement of the innocent creature before it. The woman was nude but for a leather belt and several overlapping necklaces of beads that did little to cover her ample breasts. She reached into a small pouch on her belt and brought forth a purple flower.

Some kind of lotus? Fernanda could only wonder as the priestess plucked the outer petals then crushed the rest of the plant in her fist and ground it with her fingers. She gently pushed the resulting mulch between the moaning little girl's lips. Almost at once, the girl's moaning intensified, her body wracking with sudden jerks, until after a minute she collapsed back against the slab, shuddering and heaving.

"Tlaxcoani pactia, quhauini tu yuahi..." murmured the priestess, resting a hand on the girl's sweaty brow in a manner that might almost have been considered motherlike if not for the ravenous smile. She began to move around the altar, clapping gilded shackles about the girl's ankles and wrists. Fernanda wondered what their purpose was, with the girl clearly incapacitated and incapable of running. Were they going to do something worse to her?

Fernanda became aware of more presences, shadows that had entered the gloomy chamber from the unseen doorways, approaching the altar in the middle. Two more priestesses, human women, nude but for their jewelry and long headdresses. Between them was the King, Tlaloc himself. He stopped at the edge of the light, eyeing the girl with a keen interest.

"Tlahtoani." The three priestesses bowed to the king, their heads nearly touching the ground. Tlaloc moved to unhook his loincloth, and his erect member slashed out, the 4-foot rod of turgid black cockflesh pointing straight at the vulnerable little girl writhing on the altar. The priestesses fell to their knees, bending forward and licking the pulsing shaft.

Fernanda would have gulped if she could, would have been sweating if her mind was still attached to her body. The room had a hazy, dreamlike feel, with curls of wispy smoke from burning incense beginning to fill the chamber and the priestesses continuing their droning chant as they licked and kissed the King's cock with an almost worshipful devotion. Some small, perverse part of Fernanda couldn't help but be envious of their technique as they masterfully coated the huge member with saliva, leaving no inch untouched, slathering their tongues and kissing each wrinkle and fold of the mighty black prick.

The King grunted and grabbed his cock at the base. The priestesses sat back in a line, kneeling in front of their king with mouths open and eager. The first powerful blast rocketed out of Tlaloc's cock like lightning, slapping a gooey line of amber jizz across their faces and bare breasts. They held their pose with expert discipline, not withering before the bucking onslaught of sperm blasting like a hose all over them. By the time the king was finished, gooey monster cum was splattered messily all over their upper bodies, dribbling from their lips and chins and congealing in sticky blobs on their chests and arms. They got up when it was clear the King was finished, ignoring the syrupy gunk on their bodies as they took 3 equidistant positions around the girl on the altar.

"Now." said the King, striding forward and looking down at the girl. "Our warriors are ready. The raid of the new moon is prepared. We must petition the Goddess."

"Xochiquetzal du yectenehua," the priestesses chanted in unison. One stepped forth, now holding a shining scepter with an intricate design of cut rubies adorning a circular ring of gold at the head. The shaft was around three feet long, straight near the top, but curving into the rigid form of an erect phallus at the other end. The surface was carved and gilded into an overlapping pattern of snake-like scales that flashed when the priestess brought it into the light.

The priestess took position at the base of the slab while the other priestesses moved to pull the girl's legs open. The king looked on eagerly, eyefucking the girl's hairless sex and puffy little lips. The girl moaned, struggling, eyes fluttering against the bright light beaming down at her, but the shackles kept her in place. The priestesses chanted in unison as their leader raised the golden scepter and rested the tip of the phallus against the blushing cuntlips of the 6-year-old girl.

There was something just a little bit odd about that phallus, Fernanda thought. It was too smooth, without the wrinkly characteristics and hooded glans that defined a man's cock. But it was still quite clear what it was. Maybe it was just smooth to make it easier on the girl. But any thought that the priestesses may have had ease in mind was rudely dismissed when the leader savagely rammed the scepter into the tiny girl's cunt.

The girl shrieked, writhing, moaning. That flower must inflame the senses as well as stupefying you, Fernanda thought. The priestess turned the scepter, twisting the golden dildo inside the girl with a wicked smile on her face, enjoying the squeaking cries and wiggling hips of her naked prey. The girl's back arched, spittle on her lips, before she fell flat against the slab again. She was heaving already, her flat breasts moving rapidly up and down, a hypnotic rhythm that seemed to match the beat of the priestess's droning chant.

"Tell me," murmured the King, stepping closer to the girl, his erect cock waving. "Tell me what I want to know, great Xochiquetzal. Show us where your hunger burns."

With the cock scepter tightly crammed in the girl's little pussy, the other two priestesses let her legs go and pulled light whips of trailing leather cords from where they were coiled at their belts. The weapons were fairly small, with swatches of colorful feathers on the handles and the cords embedded with tiny beads and discs of metal that looked sharp around the rims. The priestesses treated the ends with some kind of tincture from small pouches at their belt, then began to wipe the King's congealed cum from their bodies and rub that all over the cords too. The dangling ends glittered with semen in the harsh white light when they were done.

"Xochiquetzal!" The King raised his arms above his head with a shout, as if imploring the light.

"Speak to us! Speak to your children! Huantia xochti pactia!"

In unison, the two priestesses flanking the girl swung their scourges and lashed the girl across the belly. The poor thing cried out, twitching, as the cords slid off her belly, leaving tiny, almost invisible cuts that oozed with amber cum.

"Xochiquetzal!" Shouted the king again. Again the priestesses lashed the girl, taking turns now as the lead priestess began to cruelly grind the cock scepter into the 6-year-old's tiny snatch. The girl howled and cried out again and again, muscles jerking, limbs straining against the shackles.

"Tell us how we shall rape your enemies!" howled the King. "Give us their wives and daughters for our seed!"

The priestesses lashed the small girl furiously as the king continued to shout. His rumbling voice seemed to make the stone chamber shake. Fernanda felt the uneasiness of the other mages growing, connected as they were, and felt a clawing terror of her own growing in the back of her mind. But she held the spell, forcing them to stay. The magic had drawn them here. Something they weren't supposed to witness. They needed to see it through.

The little girl's shrieks were tinged with violent pleasure now, loud shaking howls dwindling to joyous gibbering. Spittle flew from her lips. As Fernanda and the others watched, she orgasmed on the altar, muscles snapping to a rictus of ecstasy. The first of many, Fernanda suspected. The flower, the golden cock thrusting rapidly into her cunt, the sadistic biting snaps of those scourges. And who knew what was in those tinctures? Whatever it was, it seemed to catapult the girl into a tempest of wailing pleasure that seemed to go on and on.

Climax after climax wracked the girl's body. Her yelps echoed off the heavy stone walls beyond the darkened perimeter. Her naked body contorted and heaved and coiled like a snake on the altar. The scourges snapped against her tiny breasts and erect nipples, leaving cuts so tiny they could barely be seen. Amber cum glistened on nude white flesh, seeping into her skin. Monster cum. Entering her. Changing her. Fernanda felt herself go cold - an impossibility, since she was was not tethered to her body. Yet she felt it, and she knew the others did too. The Camabahlam scorned magic, but under other circumstances Fernanda would have sworn there was sorcery seeping into the air, a small, burning current drawn by the whipping and the young girl's dual cries of pain and pleasure. She felt a malign influence, a presence, as if a thousand serpents slithered behind the walls, watching her and her entire party of mages and hissing a malevolent promise.

No. It was just her imagination. She was the Archmage. She would not be cowed so easily. She forced them to stay, forced them to watch, eyes locked to the perverse scene as surely as the girl was shackled to the unholy altar. The girl's screams rose with each orgasm and her climaxes grew more violent. The whips snapped. The golden cock pistoned into the tiny vagina. Fernanda looked on in awe as the little girl shook so violently that it seemed she might snap the shackles that bound her.

"TELL ME!" Shouted the king, his voice seemingly amplified. It resounded in the room, a sonorous rumbling like a low earthquake. "SHOW US, MIGHTY XOCHIQUETZAL! LET US RAPE YOUR ENEMIES, LET US DEFILE THEIR HOMES, LET US FILL THEIR WOMBS WITH OUR SEED AS THEY SCREAM!"

The little girl snapped upright as if compelled by a mighty force, her limbs straining nearly to breaking.

"HUAHUANTI!" She screeched! "HUAHUANTI! HUAHUANTI! HUAHUANTIIIIIIIIII!!!"

The clawing fear thrust itself forward in Fernanda's head. The girl was staring right at them! Eyes haunted, delirious, swimming with a euphoria beyond comprehension. The lead priestess and the King looked in their direction, but it was clear they saw nothing. After a few seconds, the girl had howled herself out and collapsed back against the altar, unconscious at last.

"Huahuanti, an island near the southern shore," murmured the King, eyeing the stricken girl while stroking the hairs on his chin contemplatively. "I thought there was something odd about their tribute. Yes, it makes sense now."

"My king?" asked the lead priestess hopefully. King Tlaloc turned to face her.

"The tribute they sent us - 30 virgin girls and 50 already deflowered. I recall them. Their skin seemed too dark for the fair islanders. Xochiquetzal has spoken to us and shown us their deception. They must have raided their neighbors and stolen their daughters to send to us. They kept their girls for themselves."

The King stroked his whiskers again, thinking.

"The Goddess demands their rape. Send the raiding parties. Burn their island. Drive them out of their villages. Leave nothing standing. Every woman, every mother, every daughter, every sister, every girl child right down to the smallest toddler and the least newborn babe is to be brought here for the solstice. They will be offered to her."

"Yectenehua du Xochiquetzal," smiled the priestess, the thought seeming to please her greatly.

"Glory to Xochiquetzal," smiled the king, showing the teeth in his muzzle.

Fernanda let their spell fade, the room slowly diminishing into a formless grey void about them. A small movement, and the magic shifted, sending them back to where their bodies waited standing in a circle in their quarters.

"Gods above," muttered Emily, mopping sweat from her brow and tugging her hair nervously. Fernanda could feel her own pulse racing, her heart fluttering in her chest, now that the fear she felt could take root in her visceral body. All the mages seemed unsettled, muttering, sitting with their heads collapsed in their hands. With a shock, Fernanda realized her cunt was sopping wet. Had her arousal become so heavy while she was disembodied? It seemed impossible.

"Snap out of it!" Fernanda shouted. "You're mages! Not sniveling little farm girls with no training! Act like it!"

One by one they turned to look at her. They were rattled to the core, each of them undoubtedly envisioning herself up on that altar, flailed and penetrated, bodies jerking with violent rapture as those women chanted their obscenities to their vile Goddess. And in truth, they were just little girls, Fernanda reminded herself. They had been trained thoroughly, but so much was expected of a mage, so much endurance, so much fortitude to deal with the constant threat of dire monsters slavering to best their magic, snap their staves in half, and rip their clothes off and ravish them. Just like Anabella...

"No..." she whispered. The other mages were looking at her. Confused. Expectant. She was the archmage. "No," she said, louder, taking a deep breath. "We're not giving up. There is no surrender to these beasts."

"Fernanda, I...I felt something odd," said Emily. "Like something was pushing against us, testing us."

Well, if anyone could have felt such a thing it would have been Emily, with her special talents, but Fernanda shook her head and stood up straight in front of them.

"It was nothing. The Camabahlam have no magic. All you felt was your own fear. I felt it too, watching that, but you need to put it from your mind. It's no worse than what we've studied. I've seen my fallen sisters bent over and rammed by Minotaurum cocks in the midst of battle. I've seen 4-year-olds pregnant with bellies full of swarming Arachma spiderlings. If we can endure that, we can endure watching a girl get a little whipping."

She turned to look at each of them in turn, meeting their eyes, trying to let them feel her confidence. Fake confidence, but it could pass as the real thing.

"Tatiana," she said, "I want you to spend the rest of the night documenting everything you've seen and heard. You have the best memory of all of us. Leave nothing out."

"Yes Archmage," said Tatiana, with a dip of her head.

"Emily, use your defensive magic to spin wards around all the openings to these quarters. Nothing goes in or out without us knowing. Cloak your spells so they can't be detected."

Emily nodded her head.

"Nina, help her," said Fernanda, registering the other girl's nod.

"Shayla, you'll come with me. I want to talk about any battle methods we might use against the Camabahlam guards, if it comes to that. Hopefully it will not, but we must be prepared."

Shayla nodded curtly, looking just a little bit angry like she always did.

"Aside from that," she instructed them, "do not mention what we observed to anyone. Not even our own men. If there is even a hint that we have used magic against the Camabahlam in their own city, our mission is over."

The girls all nodded. They seemed more confident now, each of them given a purpose. They may be little girls, but they could be strong, Fernanda thought. The magic was theirs. All they needed was the will, the discipline, to prevail. The Camabahlam may be 9-foot monsters with monstrous spiny cocks and a fanatical devotion to their blasphemous goddess, but as long as the mages kept their cool, they would hold them at bay. They wouldn't become slaves, would never submit to being the quivering little fucktoys that existed solely for the pleasure of endless sex and breeding. Never. So many people were counting on them. They could not fail.

"Let's get to work," Fernanda said. The rest of the mages nodded at her and began to do just that.

Fernanda pulled off the little hair brooch Luke had given her so she could look at it again. Cut ruby petals were curled delicately above a base of emerald sepals. A small blue sapphire the same color as her eyes decorated the clasp, and the golden scrollwork around the edges was finely made. It was clearly a piece crafted with love and care - if not the talent of a master. With a sigh she put it down on the stone desk and looked out the narrow window.

There was the city, just as it always ways. Sunny daylight. Sweltering jungle heat. Swift showers. Monsters roaming the streets raping little girls as they pleased wherever they pleased. What had it been like under the Toltec? She had never known, since though her heritage was here her family had emigrated just before she was born. Just in time, it seemed. If they had stayed it would be her out there, writhing on the end of some jutting, pulsing Camabahlam cock, shivering as the spiny barbs scraped the inside of her vagina and amber cum spurted up into her fertile womb.

She shook her head and looked down at her letter. "Dear Luke," it began. "Things are going well..." Not exactly a brilliant opener, but she had been unable to think of a single word to write for the last half hour. Absently, she took another drink of milk from the bottle resting near her hand. Little girl breastmilk, and possibly the most delicious thing she had ever tasted. A Conversion effect, perhaps? There were stranger things out there. Maybe they should investigate. Or maybe they shouldn't. Tatiana would seek out the truth of the matter like a hunting hound if given the slightest leash, but Fernanda wondered if she should even care herself.

A shuffle of leather and metal came from behind her. He had returned.

"Well?" she asked. "Have you had any luck finding them?"

"No Archmage," said Captain Stendar. "That's two more soldiers gone. I caught them with one of the little slave girls last night, giving her a good round plowing. I figured the Camabahlam wouldn't appreciate that - although who could really say for sure - so I ordered them off. Now they're gone."

"Damnit!" Fernanda banged a fist into the table. They could NOT afford any more losses. The men, Anabella. They needed every friendly sword and staff they could get.

"There's good news though: the courier arrived with the dawn. The King will see you this morning."

A sigh of relief escaped her lips. Finally. She had been half contemplating barging up to the palace all by herself and demanding to be seen. The half moon had come at last. Now their real work could continue.

Fernanda picked up the hair brooch and clipped it into her hair again, then looked into her small hand mirror. It looked lovely set in her wavy brown hair like that. Letters be damned, she had to keep it all together just so she could see Luke again. If the Magisterium ever tried to send her on any more important diplomatic missions, she would tell them to go stuff themselves.

"I'll get the rest of the mages. You get the men. We'll leave as soon as we're assembled." Fernanda looked at Captain Stendar. "Sorry about your soldiers. I know it hurts to lose people under your command."

The Captain shrugged, but Fernanda could see the look in his eyes. Betrayal stung the worst of all. Maybe the men were dead, but more likely they were hip-deep in little girl pussy right now, perhaps having offered some tidbit of information on their mission in order to buy themselves their pleasures.

Fernanda stepped from her private room out into the common area. All the other mages were there: Tatiana was leaning back in a pillowed divan and fanning herself with a huge jungle leaf, trying to beat the heat as she read her Factorum. Nina was tending to the little line of potted plants she had started. Fernanda had no idea where the girl had got the pots or the seeds, but they were already blooming beautifully from the accelerated growth of her spells. Shayla and Emi were occupying themselves by playing a game: swapping a complicated mesh of tangled strings back and forth between their fingers, each girl twisting it into a new configuration before holding it out for the other girl to take. Isabella was lounging near the bathing pool in the corner with her feet in the water.

"Everyone get ready," Fernanda said. "We're seeing the King again today."

They nodded, and in a few minutes they were all prepared. Captain Stendar appeared at the doorway and motioned to show that his men were ready. Their march through the city was a familiar routine by now: lovely gardens of fronds and flowers spilling from the terraces, bustling trade thronging the roadways, visitors of other Monstrum species threading through the crowds. Fernanda wondered what it was like for girls who were born and grew up here. Telerian scholars knew of no other Monstrum species that kept an orderly society this way. Fernanda briefly entertained the notion that the influence of their malign goddess was somehow responsible, then dismissed the idea as foolish.

More Camabahlam warriors awaited them at the palace - a double line of strong, muscular beasts, facing each other with sheathed weapons and vibrant headdresses. Fernanda and the human soldiers entered the corridor of guards and walked into the palace, treading down torchlit hallways of brilliant stone carvings until they reached the throne room.

"Ah, the little magic girls have returned," sneered the king, sprawling lazily on this throne. His ears jerked with amusement and his triple tails flicked as they hung over the armrest. The feathered headdress trailed down his furry sides to where it coiled on the ground next to a small girl with an iron shackle around one wrist. The girl was naked and weeping quietly, with amber jizz dripping from most of her lower body.

"It has been 14 days," said Fernanda, trying to ignore the girl. "The half moon was high in the sky last night. You have performed your profane sacrifices, now we demand an answer to our proposals."

The King's muzzle pulled back threateningly. He considered Fernanda, who stood small but defiant before the dais, her staff in hand, then made a motion to the little girl at the foot of the throne.

She climbed up, visibly unwilling. The King grabbed her roughly and pulled her closer, groping her flat chest. She looked to be 11 or 12, Fernanda thought, quite fair, with shocking red hair and freckles and eyes green like the jungle. She sniffled as the king's big paws felt her naked body, squeezing her hips and bottom with delight.

"We have a bird in the jungle, with a green beak and a red crest," the King murmured, most of his attention focused on his little fucktoy. "We call it Yuahuatni, and a girl like this we also call Yuahuatni. My pretty little bird." He cupped her chin and forced her gaze to rise to meet him.

"Tell this little whelp-slut about your capture, my little bird," said the King. The girl looked down, still sniffling, unwilling to speak. She shuddered uncomfortably as the King's erect cock brushed her backside.

"No? Very well, I'll do it." The King looked at Fernanda.

"She was a Toltec mage. Some had escaped us, apparently, hiding themselves deep in the jungles for many years and preying on our warriors. Quite irksome. They even managed to free some of the tribute caravans coming from the south of our realm. It had gone on too long, so I decided to attend to the matter personally. I took my finest captains and warriors and spent a few days rooting them out of their hiding places. For personally capturing this one, I added another violet feather to my glory." He gestured at his impossibly long headdress.

"Her magic could not save her. Now she is my wife. Xouhuentchi. Her old name is gone. Isn't that right?" The girl quivered at his touch. She was fresh, unaffected yet by the Monstrum Conversion effects of the Camabahlam. Fernanda swallowed, trying not to let her horror show as the King encouraged her to sit up, then picked her up bodily and fit his massive cock to her snug pussy.

"If you did not bear the Tlaquani, this would be you," said Tlaloc to Fernanda with a vile smile, forcing the small girl down onto his cock. She squealed, her tiny pussy spread obscenely wide, struggling to adjust to the massive invasion of flesh.

"I could make you my ichpoyectli as well. You would have the finest silks and jewelry, your own personal slaves. Your every desire would be fulfilled, and in turn you would please me with your body and your womb, just like my little bird here."

The King began bouncing the small girl on his 4-foot cock. She squealed louder, more of the girth pushing inside her with each thrust. Her plump little bottom bounced enticingly and her wails turned to pants of reluctant pleasure gradually. Her eyes were closed, her face conflicted by the competing feelings of her shame at being a monster fuck toy and the rising pleasure she could not deny in her body. By the time several inches of fat monster prick had been stuffed in her swelling vagina and the first layer of spiny nubs was rippling against her hairless pussy lips, she was nearly howling. The King leaned back, letting her take over, the weight of her tiny body completely supported by his behemoth organ. She was jerking herself up and down now without him forcing her, sweaty and panting, an exultant expression growing on her face.

"See how she embraces her desire? This could be you," said the King, pointing at the girl pistoning up and down on his cock. "All you must do is throw away your Tlaquani. Then I would not offend the Goddess when I take you."

Fernanda cleared her throat, hoping that the sweat on her brow wasn't too obvious.

"Our offer has not changed, and it is most generous, a fair bargain that will benefit both our peoples - 20 girls and an armistice." Fernanda winced even as she said it, thinking of who she would be consigning to the same fate as the little waif now hungrily thrusting her body down onto Tlaloc's monstrous prick.

"I want 1000," said the King with a baleful grin. "All virgins. My cock is hungry as of late."

"Preposterous!" Fernanda nearly shouted, outraged. This wretched, filthy monster! She wanted to burn him to a crisp right there on his wicked throne and save the girl from her fate. She had tried offering sex and power, as she had been taught to do, and all he did was demand more. There was only one other trick in her bag of diplomacy: threats.

"If there is no peace between us, then our people will surely enter a greater conflict," said Fernanda. "Teleria is powerful. Our borders dwarf yours. Our troops and magical might spawn fear in the hearts of our enemies. We prevailed in our conflict with Bridonia years past, just as we would prevail against you. If there is no peace, then there will be war, and our troops with sail across the Crescent Sea and pour onto your shores like a plague. We will best your warriors. We will burn your jungles. We will enter Xochtecquinicha and tear it to pieces until not one stone remains atop another. Your kingdom will be rent in fire and blood and all of the Camabahlam will be destroyed, as Teleria has sworn to do to all Monstrum."

Fury had been growing on King Tlaloc's face until he finally pushed the girl off of his throbbing cock and stood up to his full 9-foot height. He stomped forward until he was towering over Fernanda again, his blasphemous prick still glistening with little girl juices and nearly touching her face.

Fernanda stood proud and defiant. He could be cowed, she knew. She had done it once before. Despite his might and his vulgar displays, he was still just one beast, rules by his lusts. He was only the King because he was the largest, after all.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" he asked, his voice now cold with rage. "I see what you are doing! You come to me with honeyed words in one hand and threats in the other. You first tell me the things I want to hear, then expect that I will bend the knee in response. We are Camabahlam, the Goddess' chosen! When we settle a matter, we leave our opponents bleeding and mutilated, that they might feel their shame the most powerfully. But all you Telerians do is manipulate! You are not serious about our ways. You seek to undermine us from within."

Fernanda swallowed, her composure on the verge of breaking. She backed up slightly, her neck aching from looking up at the king. Looking down was a mistake though, since his bulging prick was right in her face. Somewhere behind the howling fear growing in her head was a small, lunatic voice wondering just how that prick would feel if it slid into her, stretching her cunt so wide that she could scarcely endure it, if the bulbous spines would spark lightning flashes of pleasure as they scratched her flesh.

"We know all about your little spell, spying on our holy rituals," the King went on. "Did you think we would tolerate this? As long you spurn our ways and snub the Goddess there shall be NO deal. Get out! Take them to the slaver's quarter! Show them how we deal with those that defy us."

Fernanda wanted to scream in frustration. The Camabahlam guards stepped forward and one grabbed her arm with his paw, the powerful grip like a band of iron. A ring of steel filled the chamber as the human soldiers drew their weapons in response. Fernanda slashed her hand in a furious gesture, ordering them to put their weapons away. Sheepishly, her heart still pounding and her mouth still salivating from the vision of the bulging male organ filling her vision, she let the Cambahlam guards lead them out, pushing the humans rudely from behind.

"By the order of the king, I will lead you to the slave auctions," said their guide, who had followed them out. Fernanda nodded, unwilling even to acknowledge him lest her voice crack with fear and anger. She wasn't cut out for this. The Magisterium had trained her in diplomacy as preparation for her station as Archmage. She had followed what they had taught her to the letter, and now it was all falling apart. The King was infuriated. How could they come to any agreement now?

The party followed their guide down the stone avenues of the city. They hadn't been this way before, Fernanda thought. He was leading them to a new quarter of the city, one they hadn't been shown yet. They were forbidden from wandering alone and there was so much in the vast city they weren't even aware of. Fernanda was a maelstrom of frustrated emotions, gripping her staff with whitened knuckles as they walked. The situation was impossible. Enemies were on every side. Every single one of the monsters they passed would joyously take the opportunity to rape her if they could, she knew. They sneered and gazed at her lustily. Only the Tlaquani protected them, and maybe the King would strip them of even that. The thought sent another thrill of fear racing through her. They would be like chickens among a pack of wolves. Even the idols they passed seemed to glare at her with malevolent promise as they passed. Fernanda shuddered, meeting the gaze of one. The feathered dragon form of Xochiquetzal almost seemed alive, looking at her through the jeweled eyes. Ridiculous, of course. Her imagination was running wild. She had to get ahold of herself.

At last they entered a large square, and Fernanda gaped. Flanked by tall ziggurats on three sides, the open area was ringed by wooden cages and stocks and bustling with wagons and dozens of species of Monstrum. They passed near one of the cages, and Fernanda spotted a host of naked little girls inside, dirty and weeping. Other girls of all ages were locked in the stocks, bent over in a prime position to be raped. A few Monstrum were availing themselves of this pleasure, and the girls veritably dripped with cum.

"W-what is this?" demanded Fernanda of their guide.

"The famous market of Xochtecquinicha," he said, waving his hand expansively. "Here, filth like you are bought and sold."

"And them?" Fernanda asked, pointing at the girls in the stocks. The ones not currently being raped slumped, exhausted, gooey jizz dripping from their mouths and genitals. The rest were being pounded vigorously by various Monstrum. Fernanda spotted a Centaurum, the wicked horse-man mounting a young girl and cramming his thick horsecock into her pussy, and a pair of Org-reh ramming another girl at both ends. A double-headed Ettu had a Rapewolf on a leash and was watching with a pair of stupid grins as his pet fucked a squealing little girl of perhaps 8.

"This is how you treat your tribute?" Fernanda asked, aghast.

"Tribute? No." The Camabahlam guide shook his head. "The tributes are welcomed and divided among us as our laws dictate. These are our enemies, those who defy us. We have led a raid against the Huahuanti islanders and captured them. The Goddess has cursed them, so they are auctioned off as fate sees fit. Some we sell to the other races, some we keep as quentzani or icihuahuatzin." The Camabahlam shrugged, as if the lives of the girls were of no consequence. "One way or another, all are made to serve."

Fernanda felt sick. More wagons were rolling in with cages loaded with girls and women of all ages. Camabahlam warriors were entering through the market gates leading lines of girl slaves shackled around their necks and wrists. A few even had girls tied and hanging from long poles. The mood of the square was festive, greeting the warriors with more of the hungry of those infernal drums. The cries of the slavers auctioning off their wares was a violent din that filled Fernanda's ears until she was shaking.

"We've seen enough! Take us back!" she yelled. The Camabahlam guard smiled cruelly at her, then turned and led them away.

Fernanda saw nothing of the city as they were led back to their quarters, felt nothing as they mounted the steep steps that led them up the terraces. It wasn't until they were safe back in their rooms and she had passed the hanging curtain that sectioned off her bed that she realized she was holding her breath. She let it all out with a blistering sigh of tension.

"Fernanda?" Emily pulled aside the thin curtain. "Are you ok?"

Fernanda sat down wearily on the bed and buried her face in her hands. It wasn't fair. Other girls her age with no magical talent got to grow up in an ordinary way. Why couldn't she have been normal? Then she wouldn't have had to spend years training herself to exhaustion only to fail here when she was put to the test.

"Hey, it's ok Fernanda," said Emily, setting aside her staff and sitting beside her. Fernanda hadn't realized she was crying. Her hands were wet.

Emily hugged her and rubbed her shoulders, comforting her friend. Fernanda managed to get ahold of herself, slowly. Watching Tlaloc rape yet another little girl like herself, enduring his ranting, the horror of the slave auction - it had all worn her down to a nub. That wasn't what she was crying about though, she realized. No. It was because for a moment, just for a moment, she had been almost given in to the temptation to stick out her tongue and lick the King's cock as it bobbed in her face. It had been right there, throbbing enticingly, pulsing with a dark, alluring passion. She couldn't help but be enthralled with wondering what it would feel like, how different it would be than Luke's small little boy cock.

"Thanks Emi," Fernanda said, resting her head against the girl's shoulder. "You're a good friend. I couldn't do this without you."

"We'll get through it together. There are a lot of us. You're not alone Fernanda," Emily said. Fernanda smiled gratefully.

"I have to write a letter. We need to...tell the Magisterium that we have failed, for now." Fernanda stood up. They had offered no guidance or further orders so far. She wondered if her letters were even being read. She knew the scholars of the Librorum were receiving all the information they sent back, though. They kept asking her and Tatiana for even more information.

Emily nodded and gave her a last hug before getting up and leaving her alone. Fernanda sighed again and sat at the little desk, looking out the window. The sun had set already. Night was falling. What a waste of a day. She took out pen and paper and began her report, then stopped.

The nightlife was coming alive around them. Camabahlam civilians were returning home, ready to fuck the girl-slaves they owned. Girlish moans and squeals began to fill the air. Fernanda couldn't concentrate. She got up and walked through the open doorway out onto the balcony. The view was grand, as usual, showing terraces and rooftops of other nearby dwellings, and the larger buildings and ziggurats in the distance.

She felt hot. Burning, almost. That had been happening on and off for a few days. Her mind kept returning to the feeling she felt when the idols of the Goddess stared at her while they were walking the streets. It was an itchy, ravenous feeling, and with a shock she realized it was making her horny. Her breathing had quickened, and a tingle was growing in her crotch.

On a nearby rooftop, a squealing slave of perhaps 10 years emerged from a stairway, laughing, followed quickly by a Camabahlam. The girl darted playfully away from him, rounding a planter of flowers and giggling. She was wearing a long, gauzy skirt and slippers, and her blouse was half-undone. The Camabahlam regarded her with its own eager grin, tails lashing as it went down to all fours like a hunting cat. It leaped suddenly, and the girl dodged to the side with a twirl, the beast's claws catching in her skirt and tearing it off. She tittered again and made a break for the stairs, but the Camabahlam quickly whirled and pounced on her from behind. The pair tumbled, laughing gleefully. The little girl struggled, but her tiny body was no match for the 900 pounds of panther monster pinning her to the stone. The Camabahlam began to ravish her, groping her breasts and butt and ripping her remaining clothing away. The girl laughed and pretended to struggle, but finally gave in. Her moan when the beast's erect cock entered her echoed in Fernanda's head hypnotically.

Images played in her mind. The pregnant girls being alternately milked and fucked. The king's wives, young girls of all ages, most of them with tightly bulging bellies. That was the life a girl had here. Fernanda wondered why it suddenly didn't seem all that bad to her. The small girl being fucked on the rooftop seemed to be enjoying herself. She would probably be pregnant pretty soon, her own trim little belly developing a tiny bulge that grew and grew. Monstrum needed human girls to fuck and breed since they had no females of their own, but the ones here certainly had no shortage.

Fernanda couldn't help but picture herself in the little girl's place, mock-struggling on her hands and knees on the stone as the powerful Camabahlam cock railed her from behind. The itchy tingle underneath her skirt grew, and she couldn't resist slipping a finger down there. All that she had seen had turned her on more than she could have admitted. She had pushed those feelings deep down, but now they were simmering, rising to the surface. Wet heat began to spread in her crotch, and she moved from rubbing to slipping a single digit inside.

The moan that came from her own throat echoed the little girl she was watching. She was quivering, lithe body shaking as the girl was impaled by the thick, bulging prick with its menacing-looking spines. The Camabahlam had sunk itself deep inside her. What did those spines feel like? They looked painful, but they probably weren't. Conversion probably made them feel great. Fernanda moaned again and slipped another finger in next to the first and rubbed hard on her clit with her thumb. She imagined a fat monster cock, glistening black, thrumming with a heavy pulse and pushing up inside her. The spines were agony at first, slowing fading into a scraping ecstasy, sinking into the soft flesh of her vagina and leaking their corrupting Conversion effect inside her.

The burning heat was rising, coiling in her belly like a snake. It was a hunger that demanded to be sated. It had been growing for days without her realizing it. Fernanda thrust harder with her fingers, moaning freely, rubbing her nipples through the frail cloth of her uniform with her other hand. She was more turned on that she had ever been, thinking of all those pregnant girls, watching the twitching pleasure of the girl on the rooftop. Seeing the cows mate when she was little had always made her feel funny, but never like this. Not even Luke - pleasurable though he was - had ever made her feel this way. It was like a secret appetite had taken root deep inside her, and with each fresh thrust of her fingers into her own cunt it seemed to pulse and grow, each flash of pleasurable satisfaction feeding the hunger for more until her whole body seemed to burn with ravenous sexual delight.

Camabahlam warriors, overrunning and sacking the island city of the Huahuanti. Torching the buildings, raping the women and girls where they found them. Fernanda shook, thinking of it. Warriors creeping silently through the jungle, then leaping upon the refugee mages of the Toltec, delighting in their screams as they broke their staves then ripped their clothing off and violated them. Fernanda moaned loudly, body shaking, thrusting up and down with the movements of her hand. Her clit was pulsing wildly under her thumb and she rubbed it feverishly. Her own mages, overcome, all of them in a ring with tight, naked bodies being thrust back and forth, impaled at both ends by bristling Cambahlam cocks. Thick, black flesh entering their mouths, their cunts, furred paws slapping their butts, girls squealing as they gave in to their animal lusts and exulted in their own rape.

White heat exploded inside her. Feranda came abruptly with a sharp cry, arms and legs shaking, fingers thrusting and rummaging her cunt as deeply as she could go. Her pulsing clit throbbed like it would explode. The sudden climax poured through her in burning currents, a river of pleasure splitting and drowning her in its depths. Racing ecstasy pumped her heart to a thundering beat until her ears rang and her vision went white. She shook, gasped, trembled mightily as the most powerful orgasm of her life blazed inside her like a bonfire, a scalding pillar of brilliant heat that embraced her whole body.

Euphoria carried her along for an eternity, then gradually ebbed. Her orgasm had lasted so long, nearly as long as the one she had magically augmented when she was back with Luke. When she finally opened her eyes, the Cambahlam and his slave girl were gone. The normal sounds of jungle birds and lingering Cambahlam activity echoed off the stone terraces around her. Fernanda slumped against the wall, ashamed. But at least that burning itch was sated, for now. It had dwindled to a tiny spark inside her belly like a snake coiling into its den.

Fernanda wondered how long it would stay there, and how hot it would burn when it came back.

"Our messenger was turned away. The King still refuses to see us."

Captain Stendar leaned back into a slovenly posture on the divan, bringing his big boots up and letting the heels slap onto the stone table. Fernanda eyed him primly.

"Then we will keep entreating him. Every day, if need be."

The Captain nodded and shrugged as if it didn't matter. He seemed more and more resigned. Three more men were gone without a trace. They had last been spotted heading for the slave market, probably to see if they could fuck the little girls in the stocks there. Men were such pigs, unable to control their lusts, she thought, then realized that the burning heat that had compelled her to masturbate every single night might as well amount to the same thing. She hadn't mentioned it to anyone. It didn't seem important. With all the strain they were under, everybody was seeking to release their pent-up frustration any way they could.

Fernanda began to pace the room, thinking. Captain Stendar followed her with his eyes, the bulge in his leather pants visibly apparent. All the men had seemed to be on edge since she had forbidden them to visit the brothels. Maybe that had been a mistake. She had made plenty of those.

"Fine," she said wearily, in response to the unasked question. "Tell the men they may relieve themselves with the public girls in groups of 3 or more. But no touching the owned slaves, their ichpoyectli. We don't want any more incidents."

The captain nodded, grinning, no doubt anticipating the pleasure of diddling the bounty of little girls the city had to offer. He was just rising to his feet when shouts and a scream of pain accompanied by a sudden crash resounded out in the common area of the quarters.

Fernanda grabbed her staff in a panic as the Captain drew his sword and raced out past the hanging curtain. Fernanda followed close behind, and as she rounded the corner found a dozen Camabahlam guards had entered the room with weapons drawn. They were leering at the frightened mages scattered about, each girl desperately reaching for their nearby staff so they wouldn't be helpless.

"Stop!" shouted Fernanda. "Put your weapons away, everyone. I'm sure our hosts have a reason for their rude intrusion."

The Captain and the other mean sheathed their swords reluctantly, and after a moment so did the Camabahlam. The beasts stood tall, menacing and confident, with arms crossed and obscene smiles on their panther-like faces as Fernanda strode toward them.

"King Tlaloc has ordered an inspection," said their guide, pushing his way to the front of the troops. "It is the the month of the serpent. All females in the city are to be stripped and inspected for health and beauty." He looked down at her with a depraved, hungering expression. "Even little magical girls."

"I don't believe it," said Fernanda, seething. "This is a trick, meant to unnerve us. We'll do no such thing."

The guide shrugged as if her refusal was of no consequence. "That's what your two men at the door said. They tried to block our entry. Now they are dead."

Captain Stendar shoved his way past a Camabahlam from the side to look out the front door. He blanched, then turned and nodded silently to Fernanda, his expression grim.

"Ridiculous. Our Tlaquani protect us," said Fernanda, gesturing to the crown of feathers on her head. She made sure she and the other mages never took them off, even when bathing.

"Not from the King's lawful decrees," sneered the Camabahlam guide. "We can fetch a priestess if you doubt the law, or a scribe to explain it to you if you are slow. Pretty little cunts like you often are."

The assembled warriors laughed together, mocking them. Fernanda felt herself grow enraged.

"Do you really think you can force this indignity on us? And what if we refuse? What if we use our magic to smash every bone in your body instead?"

"Then you will be stripped and made Yuhuantchli. Your hair will be cut, and you will be made to service the dumb beasts of labor that visitors to the city use to haul their goods. Would you like to feel the cock of a Teshuan Odo in your ass, little mage? The Odo are not too picky sometimes."

Fernanda shuddered. The Odo were tremendous beasts of burden with thick hides and a single horn on their nose. Humans and Monstrum alike used them for labor. They were not Monstrum, but were still renowned for their sexual appetites and predilection to fuck anything that moved during their mating season.

"Yuhuantchli are shackled in the beast stables and are served gruel once a day. They are not released until their hair reaches their shoulders again. Now what do you think, little mage: will you follow the King's orders?"

Fernanda gritted her teeth. The Camabahlam appeared deadly serious behind their jeering muzzles. They would have to submit to this "inspection."

"Take off your clothes," she instructed the other girls. They stared at her disbelievingly.

"Do it!" she snapped. They began to move reluctantly. Fernanda reached down and undid the small allocite clasps that kept her gauzy skirt in place, letting it drop to the ground around her ankles. Camabahlam eyes followed her every movement, grinning at her naked, hairless cunt. She set aside her staff then worked to loosen the dreamcloth armlets. The rest of her top followed, and she set it aside, standing completely nude in front of the troupe of leering Camabahlam.

The other mages finished undressing, then the beasts began to move, ushering the naked girls in a line. At least she wasn't cold. The perpetual heat of the jungle climate ensured that. Fernanda crossed a hand in front of her flat breasts, humiliated, but a Camabahlam slapped her arms away.

"Hmm, very nice," said the Camabahlam guide, walking down the line. "They say humans are sometimes filthy until we civilize them but you mages are quite clean." He stopped in front of Fernanda then reached down to grab her chest and squeeze the slight mounds of her budding tits.

"Stop that!" Fernanda squawked, and tried to push his arm away, but it was like trying to move an iron pillar. The Camabahlam groped her, grinning, touching her everywhere and pinching her nipples. Fernanda squeaked at the sudden pain.

"This one's eyes are strange," said one of the beasts, crouching in front of Nina.

"Your face is strange," retorted Nina. "Like a goat's anus when it's sick".

Emily gave a yelp next to her. Fernanda realized they were all being fondled. The Camabahlam were none too gentle, touching them everywhere, squeezing anything that made them jerk. Fernanda managed to calm herself and stood silently, trying to appear stoic as the Camabahlam in front of her squatted to inspect her pussy.

It was hard to describe the feeling of a furry paw pressing your cuntlips wide open, Fernanda thought. The Camabahlam sniffed their cunts and peered at them as if judging them, then they stood up.

"Turn around," the guide said. The mages looked to Fernanda, and she made a twirling motion. They all turned around.

The got the same treatment from the rear. Anger burned in Fernanda alongside that strange, horny heat that didn't seem to go away. Degrading. Humiliating. Disgusting monsters pawing at them like meat. With a shock she realized that it was turning her on. Emily jumped and yelped next to Fernanda as a Camabahlam squeezed her ass and then slapped it hard. Her pert bottom bounced, a red mark imprinted on it.

"How can you men resist these sweet little cunts?" mused the Camabahlam guide as he bent to spread Fernanda's asscheeks and look at her asshole. "Don't you want to possess them? Such tasty little morsels. They would fetch a high price at the market."

"Don't think I haven't thought about it," murmured Captain Stendar, not quite under his breath. Fernanda glared daggers at him.

The Camabahlam groping continued, the beasts grabbing their breasts from behind. A shout came from the end of the line, and Fernanda turned.

A Camabahlam had taken position behind Shayla, grabbing the seething little girl by the shoulder with its cock out and fisting madly. The thick black organ slapped against the girl's bare bottom, and a blast of amber spunk shot out and plastered her lower backside with gooey jizz.

"You fucking pig!" screamed Shayla, feeling the warm fluid. She turned and managed to knock the beast's paw away, then pivoted and grabbed for her staff.

"No!" screamed Fernanda, but everything happened in an instant. Shayla whirled, the A'sham at the end of her staff flashing as it focused her magical energy to a fine point. An invisible shockwave blasted the surprised Camabahlam backwards, smashing him into the wall with a sound like thunder and leaving cracks in the stone. The Camabahlam all drew their weapons and so did the men. Fernanda's cries were drowned out in the bellows of each side shouting for the other to disarm. Shayla cast another spell immediately, wreathing the next closest Camabahlam in flame. It shrieked as its fur roared with heat like tinder in a bonfire, and dropped into a desperate roll to put the flames out.

Panic clawed at her mind. Fear pumped in her veins. Fernanda wanted to lash out, to grab her staff and join the fight. For just an instant she teetered on the razor edge of a decision, and then it was all over.

The nearest remaining Camabahlam snapped a bola from its belt straight at Shayla. It wrapped around her throat and the girl stumbled and had one brief second to gag and claw at the cord before the creature took a long stride and smashed the girl with a powerful backhand across her face. Shayla flew through the air, her tiny body no match for the beast's powerful blow, and crashed against the furniture. She slumped to the ground, groaning and dazed, her staff clattering onto the floor far away.

In an instant the same Camabahalm pounced on her where she had fallen, howling with glee. The rest moved to block the humans, weapons still drawn menacingly.

"No! Stop! Put your weapons away!" Fernanda screamed. "Look! We're not resisting!" She held her hands wide open, showing she was powerless.

Muffled sobbing came from the corner. The Camabahlam wrenched Shayla up by the wrists, snarling, then let her drop to her knees. The girl was stunned, scarcely comprehending. He held her up with a fist in her hair as he wrenched the Tlaquani off her head and threw it away. Then he undid his loincloth, letting his powerful black cock lash out and slap the little girl in the face.

"What are you doing?!" screeched Emily. "Let her go!" The tiny girl moved towards the mounting scene but literally bounced off a Camabahlam that moved to stand in front of her.

"Our law," snarled the Camabahlam guide. "She attacked us. Her protection is forfeit and she belongs to the one who captured her."

Shayla's cries were abruptly cut off when the beast shoved its fattened cock straight into her mouth. Her glazed eyes went wide with surprise and a muted squeal rang in her throat. Fernanda winced. The creature began to thrust its hips rudely, ramming the enormous girth into the girl's screaming mouth, forcing it into her throat.

The mages watched in horror as the pressing bulge moved in Shayla's neck. The monster's awful spines were snapping against Shayla's lips as they rapidly sawed back and forth. She nearly collapsed, but her body was held up by the fist twined so cruelly in her hair. The Camabahlam face-fucked the tiny girl with glee as the humans looked on in stunned horror. His motions increased suddenly and he thrust forward a final time, ramming the collosal 3-foot organ as deeply as it could go into Shayla's mouth. The girl looked like she would burst, eyes bulging, lips straining and neck muscles clenching hysterically around the invading shaft of bulging flesh. The beast roared as it came and Shayla shook violently as the huge load of cum gushed into her throat like a dam had broken. Fernanda saw her swallow frantically, choking and gagging. The horrific spines kept the slick shaft of fat black cock tightly lodged into the girl's mouth until he finished and drew it back. The rasping sound of rigid nubs on bruised flesh scarred itself into Fernanda's memory right there.

Shayla collapsed onto the ground, retching until she vomited up a pool of amber goop. She was borderline incoherent when the creature yanked her off the ground and hefted her belly-first onto his shoulder with her tight bottom and pert pussy exposed for all the room to see.

Words had failed her. Fernanda watched, stunned, as the Camabahlam moved to leave, dragging their wounded soldiar and giving deference to the one that had claimed Shayla. Before exiting, the Camabahlam guide reached into his pouch and murmured something that sounded respectful before handing a violet feather to the one holding Shayla. The creature accepted with a nod and turned to leave, disappearing with his prize.

"Y-you can't...you can't just..." Nina stuttered, as shocked and helpless as they all were. Her eyes were wide, haunted. She had lost friends in battle before, but never like this.

"Don't speak against our laws!" hissed the guide. "You compound your transgressions. We are generous and will forget this incident occurred, but if you draw weapons in our city again, you will not live to see another moonrise."

"What will happen to her?" asked Emily, her voice small and quivering.

The guide shrugged. "She is ichpoyectli now. She will serve him however he wishes. If she serves well, maybe her crimes will be forgiven and she will be able to bear his seed."

The guide turned to leave, and they were alone. Just the men, looking shocked, and the party of naked girls, now one fewer, looking utterly pathetic. They exchanged looks of terrified shock.

Fernanda felt sick. She couldn't have stopped it. Shayla had lost her temper again and it finally caught up with her. Now she would be raped constantly by the Camabahlam, her mouth and her cunt and her asshole violently used until the sickening effect of the monstrous toxins did their work and her body began to change. Greater pleasure. Tougher vagina. Her womb transformed to bear the young of another species. Just like the girls here. Just like Anabella.

No more. Fernanda sat down wearily and let her head drop into her hands. Emily was crying quietly next to her.

"They took her...I just let them take her..." Nina said quietly, staring at the ground. She was still in shock, twisting her fists around the shaft of her staff nervously.

"None of us could have done anything with all the Camabahlam right there," Fernanda said. "They would have cut us down."

"They just walked out of here with Shayla," Nina said, still staring off into the distance like she was looking at something miles away. "And I let them."

Fernanda moved to comfort Emily, pulling the crying girl's head onto her shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault Nina," she said.

Nina shook her head. "I'm a battlemage. I've lost 8 girls under my command, seen them dragged off to be raped and bred like cattle. But I've never just...just let a Monstrum walk away with someone like that...Shayla..."

Fernanda was no less horrified at their own inaction, but there was truly nothing they could have done. Maybe there was something they could do now though, some way to fix the situation. A plan began to form in her head.

"Get dressed. Everyone," she said. The girls obeyed and began to pull on their frail garments of filmy dreamcloth and delicate allocite. Fernanda watched them as she dressed herself. Beautiful garments, riveting staffs of polished wood with glittering A'sham gems ensconced in filigree on the ends - the mages looked imposing, powerful. It was time to put that power to the test.

"Here's what we'll do: Captain Stendar, didn't you say you spent time at the theater in Lumbourgh before you became a soldier?"

"Yes..." said the Captain, plainly not seeing the relevance.

"Then you're our best actor," Fernanda said. "We can transform you - you and probably 2 men of your choice."

"Transform?" The Captain looked aghast. "Into what?"

"Camabahlam - don't worry Captain," she said to his alarmed expression. "It's not permanent. Just long enough to fool a certain Cambahlam guardsman who is no doubt still dragging Shayla back to his dwelling.

Comprehension began to dawn in Captain Stendar's eyes. Fernanda waved the other mages to gather closely around her.

"Emi, I need your help," Fernanda said. "This is a delicate spell and you're the best at it. I need you to shape it."

Emily nodded. The larger the difference in size and shape, the harder it was to transform a living creature to a different form, but Emily was strong enough to transform a 220-pound man into a 900-pound Camabahlam, probably. Or if she wasn't, they were about to find out.

"Hold still Captain. This WILL tingle," Emily said, then she swirled her staff to gather energy and began concentrating.

A low hum grew in the air. All Fernanda could do was pray that the Camabahlam somehow wouldn't be able to sense them using magic again. How could things get any worse anyway? Well, maybe she shouldn't think about that.

The captain began to grow. His skin darkened and his clothing disappeared, replaced by fur with sweeping streaks ranging from black to violet to bright red. His face bulged outward alarmingly, his nose and mouth morphing into a cat-like muzzle. His eyes grew larger and the pupils flicked from a normal human form to vertical feline slits. Small panther ears grew from his head even as his human ears shrank into his fur. Emily was murmuring, lost in concentration and Fernanda watched in amazement. She really was quite talented. Very few other mages would have had the skill for such a finely-tuned spell.

In front of them stood a perfect Camabahlam, muscular and furry, a giant monstrous panther creature standing on its hind legs. The triple tails flicked absently, and the beast twisted to look behind itself in astonishment.

"How do you feel?" asked Emily.

"Tall," said the Captain, flexing experimentally then closing its paws into fists. "And strong. Gods above, your power is astonishing!"

Emily giggled and blushed. "It's easy. Like shaping water. The hardest part was making you big enough."

The Captain beckoned over two more guards, and Emily repeated the process until 3 astonished Camabahlam stood in front of them.

"Fascinating," murmured Tatiana from the side. She circled the creatures, eyeing every inch of them top to bottom. "The transformation is perfect. I cannot tell the difference"

"Yeah...perfect," said Fernanda. "Um, Emily? There are a few details missing."

"Huh?" Emily peered closely at the naked beasts. "Oh...yeah."

The Camabahlam stood unclothed in all their furry glory, their substantial black cocks hanging down from their sheathes, except for one of the guards who must have been erect already. It seemed to have carried over. He stood with an awkward, cat-like embarrassment.

Emily swung her staff again and tight loincloths grew from nothing to cover their groins. Then she added belts holding those peculiar sheathed broadswords the Camabahlam used, and bolas and nets and a few pouches. Her brow furrowed with concentration, and headdresses of bright feathers grew from their heads, cascading down with silky rustles as they grew before the waiting mages' eyes.

"All done!" Emily said cheerily, as though she had just baked a cake. The mood of everyone in the room seemed to have brightened considerably when it was clear that the Archmage had a plan.

"We will have to move quickly," said Fernanda. "From a distance, nobody will be able to tell that you aren't our regular guards. I'll use my magic to home in on Shayla's location. When we find the monster carrying her, you must confront him and force him to give her up."

"And how exactly will I do that?" asked the Captain, his voice barely recognizable with the rumbling timber of the Camabahlam throat.

"Well, you know. Just...improvise," said Fernanda. She was drawing a bit of a blank on this part of the plan, but they didn't have time to sit around pitching ideas. The Captain gave her a disbelieving stare.

"Let's get moving. It will be dark soon, and then it will be that much harder to recover Shayla then.'

In moments they were assembled and moving down the terraced steps. Fernanda tried to calm her heart and wipe the alarmed expression off her face. It was just another day, being escorted by their Camabahlam guide to some revolting display of rape and decadence. Nothing untoward was happening. It seemed to work; nobody spared them a glance. Fernanda had her spell ready and could feel Shayla. The girl was far away, but moving slowly. She was extremely agitated, but that was to be expected.

The crowds seemed to split around them, making way for what looked like deadly guards on official business. They made excellent time, walking up the main avenue as quickly as they dared. Fernanda guided them left around a corner, then right again, following a smaller street. Shayla was just ahead. Fernanda spotted a bare girl's bottom, pussy exposed and legs kicking violently. The Camabahlam carrying her seemed to be laughing at the sport.

"We'll have to wait here. We can't be seen," said Fernanda. "Go on ahead. Get him to give up Shayla."

"Oh sure, I'll just ask politely," said the Captain with a very authentic-sounding Camabahlam snarl. "Bloody gods below. Well, let's do it men."

The trio set off. The mages huddled near a corner with one of those creepy shrines to the Goddess, trying to look inconspicuous. Fernanda used her magic - just a simple cantrip taking almost no power - to let them listen in on the spot where the three perfectly normal Camabahlam guards were closing in on the warrior with Shayla. He seemed to be alone, probably taking his new slave-wife home for her inaugural rapeathon.

"Halt!" said the Captain's voice. Fernanda saw the guard turn.

"What do you want?" snarled the lone guard suspiciously.

"Your new ichpoyectli. We have come to...er, claim her."

"On what grounds?!" The Camabahlam turned, ignoring tiny Shayla violently kicking herself out on his shoulder.

"The Commander. He uh...found something during the inspection. He wants a second look. Afterwards we can return her to you."

Fernanda heard the hissing of the beast's breath as it considered this.

"Not likely," said the beast, tail lashing aggressively. "I don't believe you. What exactly did he see?"

"He believes the girl might be...unclean. A disease of warts and itching." Fernanda had to give the Captain credit. He thought fast.

"Ridiculous! You think I haven't had time to look at her cunt? She's clean!" The shouting was drawing a crowd. Fernanda was growing nervous.

"Give her to me," said the Captain, his tone shifting to a low growl. "Your commander has ordered it, and you will obey."

"A trick!" the Camabahlam hollered. He rolled Shayla off his shoulder and into the waiting hands of a nearby Camabahlam, who held the feisty girl casually while ignoring her struggles.

"You simply want her for yourself!" He turned and faced the Captain, and held his right paw up and out menacingly. "Tuichitchli!"

Uh-oh. The crowd was stirring. More spectators were coming. A scene was the last thing they wanted, but events were spinning out of control. The onlookers backed up until they enclosed a ring about 30 feet across. Cries were ringing out, bringing even more onlookers. From the crowd, two of those strange dueling gauntlets were produced. An onlooker helped the Camabahlam guard fix the claw to his right hand while another helped the disguised captain with his own. His confusion and alarm were plain even on his panther-like face

"There's no need for this, you can keep-" began the Captain, but had to duck and dodge to the side when his opponent took a vicious swipe.

"Xotchli! Coward!" screamed the Camabahlam. He swung again, aggressively, following through with two more deadly swipes aimed to take the Captain's head off. The other two disguised guards had stepped back in alarm, not sure if they should interfere. The Captain warded them off with a look. This was clearly supposed to be a one-on-one combat.

The two Camabahlam danced around each other - one clearly experienced with his weapon while the other hefted it unfamiliarly, obviously confused. The crowd began to cheer on the aggressor, shouting words Fernanda didn't know but could easily interpret from the bloodthirsty tone.

"You fight like a human," sneered the Camabahlam. "Weak. Pathetic. You cannot take your own ichpoyectli so you try to steal those of others!"

The crowd booed angrily, hissing at the Captain who circled warily, dodging the occasional swipe. Fernanda wondered if they would begin throwing rocks. This was getting out of hand. She had to stop it, somehow, but she couldn't think of anything that wouldn't just make this worse than it already was.

Captain Stendar surprised her by suddenly leaping forward, his previous hesitation a feint. He seemed to have become used to the weight of the spiky glove attached to his paw. He slashed it at his opponent's throat, missing narrowly as the surprised creature stepped back.

The counter almost took his arm off, but the Captain twisted awkwardly at the last moment. He took a glancing blow from the spikes on his left side, but managed to dance out of reach without any serious damage. The crowd cheered lustily, seeing first blood oozing out from the Captain's fur.

Nina had clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide as she watched. She looked like she wanted to scream. The rest of them were holding their breath. The two Camabahlam danced and feinted, slashed and clawed and twirled in a deadly dance. The metal spikes on the end of the gloves flashed within inches of each other's throats more than once, and Fernanda felt her heart leap with fear each time the Captain narrowly avoided a hit. The combatants circled with feline grace, snarling and hissing - the Captain was an excellent mimic, it seemed - before the true Camabahlam went down to all fours.

The Captain hesitated, unable to really do the same. Maybe with practice he could have mastered every aspect of his transformed body, but humans weren't exactly accustomed to quadrupedal motion. He leaped to the side as his agile opponent pounced, ducking and rolling in a very un-cat-like maneuver, coming up just in the nick of time to duck and roll again from the followup pounce. The Captain was clearly on the defensive, unable to match his opponent's speed. He dodged and danced for a few seconds more before his opponent managed to catch him square in the chest. The pair tumbled over together on the paving stones, hissing like fighting cats, and began wildly slashing at each other.

Fernanda winced. They were trading blows. Blood was flying, but neither had yet struck anything vital. The crowd was tightly-packed now, Camabahlam cheering on the gladiators with frenzied howling.

"Oh gods, oh gods..." murmured Emily, still with her hands over her mouth. She was nearly shaking. Fernanda looked at her and then looked back at the fight - and almost missed it.

On a wide swing, the Camabahlam's triple tail darted forward and wrapped itself around the Captain's wrist. Shock painted the Captain's face for just an instant before the howling creature rammed its spiked gauntlet straight into the Captain's neck. Stendar screamed - a squalling feline sound - as his opponent twisted the gauntlet savagely. Blood sprayed everywhere.

"No!" screamed Nina. Fernanda clapped a hand over Nina's mouth. They were trying to avoid being noticed

The lusty roar of the crowd climaxed as the victor got back to his feet, dripping with blood. The two other humans in disguise exchanged a terrified look, drew their swords, and charged in to attack.

"Xochtqueali! Dishonor! Dishonor!" shouted the victorious Camabahlam, barely fending off their swords. The crowd erupted into chaos, pushing violently forward and surrounding all three of them. Hateful howls and screams filled the evening air. Many in the crowd had drawn their weapons. Everything was a nightmare frenzy for a moment before the press of beasts broke the line and everyone began running.

On the ground were three Camabahlam with bloodied fur, their flesh torn and ripped, unmoving. The Captain and his two men. Shayla was gone. The Camabahlam that had claimed her was gone.

Nina shrieked and broke from Fernanda's grip. She bolted out into the empty street and ran to the fallen men. Fernanda and the others followed.

"I can fix this...I can fix this...I can fix this..."

Nina had dropped to her knees, mumbling hysterically and cradling the captain's head.

"Fernanda, Emily, hold him steady," she said.

"Isabella, cast a distraction spell!" hissed Fernanda. Isabella jumped, startled, then complied. Nothing seemed to happen. It was a subtle spell, one that would reach out and subconsciously tell anyone who was watching that nothing important was going on here and they shouldn't pay attention. It was far from perfect, but maybe it would be enough for Nina to do her work unnoticed.

Nina was already casting. Fernanda could feel the air hum as the powerful mage condensed magical energy from the air, shaping it and feeding it into the bodies of the transformed men. The captain and one of the soldiers jerked suddenly, but the third one didn't. Fernanda looked over at him. His head had been bashed in.

Fernanda and Emily held the captain down as he spasmed, and Isabella and Tatiana did the same for the other man. There was no time to do this gently. They were moments from death. Nina's power thrummed in the air like a storm about to erupt in their faces. She had drawn as much as she could, forgoing a subtle approach to healing in favor of raw power. The two men jerked and shuddered, bones snapping into place, muscles knitting themselves up, fur and skin regrowing as they all watched. The wounds disappeared from the huge Camabahlam bodies.

It was over in moments. The power of the spell winked out and Nina sagged with sudden exhaustion. She had used so much power that it had drained her. The two men groaned, shaking their heads. The third was already dead.

The girls looked pathetic, trying to help the massive beasts get to their feet. The captain and the guard staggered, still dazed, but finally managed to stand.

"What...what do we do with him?" asked Emily tearfully, nodding at the dead man with the body of a Cambahlam.

"What CAN we do?" said Fernanda. "We'll have to leave him. His transformation won't revert, now. He'll just be an anonymous murder victim."

Emily frowned, but she knew Fernanda was right. The rest of the mages were already helping the two remaining men hurry from the square, and the two girls rushed to join them, leaving their fallen comrade behind. Fernanda kept them all walking at a steady pace, looking like nothing was out of the ordinary. Just the pitiful Telerian Ambassadors out for an evening stroll with their chaperones. The captain was groaning and leaning slightly against Nina, the girl struggling with his weight. Fernanda prayed that he wouldn't collapse and crush her.

The sun was fully down and darkness had flooded the city by the time they returned. They mounted the terrace steps, moving past the shops and dwellings where other Camabahlam lived and worked. Beasts. Savage monsters. Cruel, unthinking rape machines. Fernanda couldn't bear the thought. Shayla was being raped, right now, her twitching pussy spread wide open and stuffed with fat Camabahlam cock. The only consolation was that she wouldn't be miserable for long. Soon she'd be a happy little fuckslut, her old life left behind and her new one as a fucktoy and breeding sow for panther monsters happily embraced.

She guided them all inside. She dispelled the transformations, the Cambahlam reverting back to two men with astonished looks still on their faces. She ordered them to their watch. She told the somber mages to go to bed, then she walked to her own room and pulled aside the curtain, and collapsed onto the bed.

They had lost another mage and another man, and this time it had been her fault. Two more people that had trusted her to keep them safe, now gone. The grief threatened to overwhelm her. Her heart felt like it was being crushed in an icy fist. Just another stupid plan from the all-powerful Archmage, blown up in their faces. Like all her plans. What hope did they have? She would have turned them all around and marched them all out of the city if she thought they had any hope of King Tlaloc letting them out of his clutches at this point. No. They had suffered too much and lost too many to give up now. Fernanda curled into a ball, feeling miserable. Luke. She wanted Luke. She wanted to feel him, to touch him, to have him put his arms around her and tell her it would be ok. The tears came at last, and she sobbed, but he was there, nuzzling her neck and whispering comfort into her ears. She was the Archmage, but she was just a little girl. She was trained and sent here because of the power of her magic, but what had that got them? One disaster after another. Fernanda moaned in her bed, and slipped deeper into the welcoming dream.

It was going to be ok. You knew this would come with sacrifice, Luke said. You knew things would be harder than you could imagine, and you came anyway. You'll see it through. You always do. I believe in you.

Fernanda let herself melt into those comforting arms. His hands were moving down, touching her breasts. She moaned in the hazy gloom where they floated. His touch felt wonderful, warm and soft. She could feel his excitement brushing the crack of her bottom, hard and pulsing. She surrendered to it, and all her fears fell away. All of her stress, her trepidation, her haunting doubts about her ability to see this through - all of it, surrendered just like that.

The gentle push of his cock entering her felt wonderful. She loved it when he made love to her. The hot, gripping heat of his cock squeezing into her tunnel made her shudder, then wince. He was big, and something itchy was grazing the sensitive walls of her pussy. His hands were soft but large, held like iron on her hips. She looked behind her, and shrieked.

A huge Camabahlam was holding onto her, its panther face twisted in glee as it rammed the rest of its cock inside her. Fernanda screamed, and the sound seemed to die away as the void swallowed it. The beast pounded painfully into her, a rapid pistoning drumbeat like the creatures had at their feasts. The scraping barbs left trails of shocking tingles as they rubbed her straining pussy lips and walls. Agony, but the pain blended with the pleasure into a fountain of frenetic energy inside her.

The mists closed in on her screams. The dream shifted. She was somewhere else, someone else. Her gossamer pants were around her ankles, and her transparent blouse hung open. She was a dancing girl, bent over, being reamed from behind. The throbbing beat of pulsing prick pounding into her pussy electrified her body like lightning, sharp pleasure racing through every muscle. She looked down, saw her belly was huge, bloated. Pregnant. So many babies. They milked her when she was pregnant so she could make the sweetmilk. Her cubs grew up proud and strong, more warriors for the tribe. They had raided successfully and brought their own ichpoyectli home, raping them until their shrieks had turned to groans of pleasure and they had cubs of their own. She was proud of them, and so happy. But there was a hunger deep inside her, a burning heat like a consuming fire that never went out. She could feel it deep in her belly. She opened her eyes again, and she was tied up on an altar. A scourge whacked her pregnant belly and she shrieked. Another cut her breasts and nipples. The burning was hotter. Rape. Rape. All around her were other girls, chained, shackled, groped and fondled and dandled on knees by Camabahlam, engaged in every kind of sex act, sucking cocks, taking fat pricks of bulging, glistening monster flesh in their pussies. All moaning, gasping, howling in a haunting melody as pain transmuted to pleasure inside them. Fernanda floated, her view widening, seeing it on a grand scale, the burning heat inside her commanding it, demanding it, the rape of every girl a holy act that glorified and fueled the fire.

A starburst of pleasure flared inside her, feeling their orgasms, every climax combined into one, an endless inferno of ecstasy. Shrieking, howling, transforming. The combined swell of the chorus of rape burst inside her and...

Fernanda opened her eyes as she orgasmed. She was utterly drenched, sweating profusely, and the slick moisture gushing over her sopping fingers and onto her legs was a copious river. She twisted and writhed, muscles locked, until finally it faded.

Gods, she hadn't masturbated tonight, hadn't bothered to quench that hungry fire, and somehow it had quenched itself. A deeply troubled feeling settled on Fernanda, filling her with worry that something was not right, but in a moment it was gone and she was drifting off again, this time into a deep and dreamless sleep.