Prologue:

When Fvelt awoke, there was only the faintest fire of strength left kindled in his body and everything ached, from the top of his pounding head, to the bottom of his sore feet. The world was a blurry, fragmented mess.

He set his eyes about the room, struggling to find something, anything that could reconnect the fractured pieces of memory: papers were strewn across the stone floor, tables and chairs were upended, and by the balcony – next to the battlement wall – was his sword-belt. The fading light of dusk caught the captain’s attention as he watched it wash across his chamber walls, the hour was growing late, he’d been unconscious for at least a day.

His throat was dry and every muscle in his body trembled as he tried to move, he had the faint feeling that he was lucky to be alive.

Then, all at once, the memories of last night stitched themselves together; he remembered a beautiful woman on the road, he remembered trying to dress her wound, he remembered running and then…Oh Gods, what had he done?

Fvelt struggled to his feet and took a tentative step towards his sword-belt, if he could get to that he’d still have a fighting chance against the succubus.

He stopped when he noticed a wooden tray on his desk, sitting at the table’s edge: it held a pitcher of water, a loaf of brown bread, ointment & bandages. A single piece of white parchment was tucked underneath. Fvelt smoothed the page over the surface of his desk and squinted, trying to make out the small, elegant script:

Captain,

If you’re the man I think you are, you’ve survived the night. You’re the first that’s ever done so with me. The men under your command, however, have not been as fortunate and I wanted you to know, their deaths are YOUR fault.

You had the chance to stop me. The men of your command have paid the price, the people of this kingdom, too, will pay the price for your failure. Stop me if you can, lover. I can’t wait to see you again and watch the light fade from your eyes.

– Alyssa

Fvelt growled, crumpled the letter in his palm and threw it across the room. She was right. He’d failed the entire kingdom by not putting a sword through her belly. It was not a mistake he would make again. The good captain gritted his teeth and forced himself to walk, forced strength back into his legs.

“I’m going to find you, demon, and I’m going to end you…”

Chapter 2: Earth’s Hold Keep – Moore

Lieutenant Moore arrived at Earth’s Hold Keep on the evening of the second day and set up camp in a small clearing half a mile from the fortress. That night, and late into the third day, the scouts had roamed the woods, searching for evidence of the bandit menace.

The fortress had been watched around the clock, but thus far there were no traces of a hostile force, the only thing they found were the remains of an empty camp with broken military-issue tents laying on the ground.

If the bandits were hiding in the keep, Moore thought, he would let the men dress him in a blonde wig and call him Susan till the end of his days.

A single person could camp out in a fortification like that and go unnoticed, but a group of people? Not a chance in hell; people required food, they required water, they required a place to shit and unless these bandits were being led by the dumbest fucking cunt in Azania, they would get to work on those vital elements as soon as possible. Yet there had been nothing of the sort happening here.

The lieutenant turned his eyes to the dwindling sun and cursed, night would be upon them soon. If they wanted to take the fortress while they could still bloody well see, they would need to strike now. Moore crawled down the hill and walked a few dozen feet into the hollow clearing where his soldiers were sitting idle.

Sergeant Donovan spotted the lieutenant walking through the tree-line and moved to stand. “Company, on your feet,” he shouted!

The group rose and fell into a loose formation.

“Alright lads, we’re going to hit these pig-fuckers tonight. If those bandits really are bedding down in there I want them taken alive and by surprise. We go in low, we go in slow, and we go in quiet. If I hear so much as a mouse fart walking up, there will be hell to pay.”

The lieutenant turned on his heel so he was facing the road, drew his sword, held up his hand and signaled the attack.

The men began their quiet march into the forest and onto the road that led to the massive ruins of the abandoned fortress.

Earth’s Hold was built into the great stretch of mountains that ran along the southern border. It had been built by the Mad Baron, Alexi, to capitalize on the lucrative trade that would pass into the country from the peaceful lands of Naru that lay beyond. Over time, it was clear that Alexi had grown too greedy: he had ordered the traders to be taxed, strained the relationship between Naru & Azania and had ultimately been executed by order of King Leer IV after attempting to secede from the rest of the country.

As a defensive outpost, it was second to none in the kingdom; the mountains provided exceptional fortification in a siege and two gates, massive things made of wood & reinforced iron, barred the passages north and south. When King Leer IV had ordered the Mad Baron’s execution, the royal army had shattered the northern gate and starved out the inhabitants in a month-long siege. When the royal soldiers finally breached the gates and entered the keep, they found Alexi’s body in a stately room, covered in blood with symbols etched into his dead flesh.

That had been twenty years ago and Earth’s Hold had been left in a state of disrepair ever since. Now it was a tomb, or it had been, until the kingdom to the north, Eilot, had declared war against Azania. As a result, King Leer V ordered that all fortifications across the country, even Earth’s Hold, were to be repaired and manned for defensive purposes.

As the soldiers descended the winding stretch of dirt road into the valley, the ruined walls of Earth’s Hold came into view. In the fading light, the fortress looked like the body of a sleeping giant nestled into the bosom of the mountain.

The northern gate crested over the hill, a towering behemoth. Twenty years ago it had been nigh impenetrable, a testament of strength that would keep the country safe from southern invasion, but now the thick stone walls that held the gate’s hinges had long toppled, leaving rotted wood and rusted iron across the forest bed. As soon as the small group passed the northern gate, the fortress began to open up into an overgrown courtyard that led onto the ground floor. Not a soul stirred, no voice carried warning of their arrival, no wisp of lantern light came down from atop the battlements, only eerie quiet came to greet them.

The lieutenant raised a fist and clenched it over his shoulder. The soldiers stopped in place and two men stepped forward to come to the lieutenant’s side: Sergeant Donovan, a young man with handsome features and Corporal Wils, a waif of a man with keen green eyes.

Moore swiped his fist forward and each squad leader went their separate ways, into the darkness of Earth’s Hold Keep.

* * *

Chapter 2: Earth’s Hold Keep – Corporal Wils

Wils took the stairs leading to the top floor of Earth’s Hold, where the great watch-towers, that had sat abandoned for decades, overlooked the expanse of the Naru desert.

He’d been three when the Mad Baron went into open rebellion against the crown, but even he knew the evil rumors about this place.

Wils had never believed in the stories about Earth’s Hold or even in magic itself, but in these halls, with shadows that sank into every stone and silence that hung like a noose, it was hard not to give them life.

The plate the men wore rattled as they climbed the stone stair-case, creating hundreds of little echoes that bounced in the empty dark. Wils strained his ears, fighting against the small gasps of air and clinking armor to listen for signs of movement beyond. A trickle of sweat beaded on his temple and slid down his cheek.

After some time, the small squad stepped into the twilight and onto the battlements that faced the rolling dunes of the south; the long stone walkway led to two different watch-towers and a door carved into an overhang at the end of the path.

Wils stopped, signaled the men and split them into three groups to spread out and cover more ground: four men would check the two watch-towers and he would slip off alone to investigate where the door led.

He approached the door and pressed an ear to the cold metal. Silence was the only answer. After a few cautious minutes, he gripped the handle and strained. The hinges groaned in protest and the sagging metal of the door scraped against the foundation. He winced at the noise and drew his sword. Wils slipped inside to the cold dark emptiness.

Wils followed a narrow path down a small flight of creaking, wooden stairs that emptied into a long hall. Fading twilight filtered through deep cuts in the ceiling, giving him just enough light to see by; as he neared the end, to his surprise, he found golden torchlight flickering in the room beyond. He flattened himself against the doorway, careful to not let his armor scrape. Wils took a soft breath and peered into the adjoining chamber.

There was a man dressed in a white, sweat-soaked under-tunic standing against the wall. His arms were spread apart, silver manacles bound about his wrists.

The man’s name was Toren, he was a farm-hand that had been drafted into service for the war against Eilot, one of the soldiers sent ahead to prepare the fortification for the captain’s arrival.

A woman sat on a stool beneath Toren, fiery red hair bobbing at his crotch. Her metal bracelets clinked together with every movement and the chamber was filled with the soft sound of her sucking lips. In mere seconds, Toren thrashed against the manacles. He moaned loudly, voice echoing throughout the hold as his hips rose from the wall.

The red haired woman released a muffled moan as well and the sound of her sucking lips turned to deep, wet swallows. Toren went still seconds later and slumped against the wall. The chains caught him as he fell.

The woman stood and wiped at her mouth, her curly red hair fell past her knees.

Wils gawked at her gorgeous body, all grace and naked elegance, she had the physique of a dancer. The redhead clasped her long hair and threw it over her right shoulder, revealing the roundest, thickest ass Wils had ever seen.

The woman turned to her side and stretched, arms folding at the elbow behind her head. In profile, with the torchlight burning behind her, she was a vision of beauty: her breasts were well above average size, but not so big that they overburdened her delicate frame, her stomach was a flat, thin line that traced to long, well muscled legs.

Wils didn’t know how long he watched her, how long he stood by the door, entranced by her, but when he finally tore his eyes away from her ass, he found she was looking at him. Her eyes were the color of gray smoke.

“Another soldier?” The redhead asked, her voice a husky whisper.

Wils took a deep breath and burst into the room, sword held at the ready. “I am and you’re to release that man into my care. He belongs to the royal army of Azania.”

The redhead moved back towards Toren and put a finger underneath his chin. She pressed against his body, large breasts folding against his arm and pouted prettily, “Toren, this man wants to take you away, do you want to leave me?”

Toren thrashed wildly, his chains scraped against the stone. “No, no,” he shouted, “I want to stay here with you and Yvette!”

The redhead smiled and pursed her lips against the side of his neck, eyes gleaming as she looked back to Wils.

“Toren, my name is Wils, I’m a corporal in the service of Captain Fvelt. I know we didn’t know each other well, but it’s time to take you home, ok? We need to leave and get help.” The situation had left him with a deep pit of unease in his stomach. This wasn’t right.

Toren screamed and his head sank into the cleft of the redhead’s neck. She stroked his hair with soothing motions. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, I won’t let him take you from me.”

Wils raised his sword, tip pointed towards the redhead. “You’re both coming with me, under the authority of Captain Fvelt, I’m placing you both under arrest. You’ll meet the king’s justice.”

A burning heat touched against Wils’ earlobe and a soft voice whispered against his skin. “There is no justice here.”

The sound of her voice was like velvet and honey. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Gentle fingers coiled around the wrist that held his sword. They clamped down like a silken vice.

“Were you going to keep this one all to yourself, Alva? He’s handsome.”

Alva, the redhead, smiled and licked her pale lips, “He is, but you know I’ll always share with you, Yvette.”

Wils turned his head and felt lips, soft and plush, press hard against his mouth. His thoughts melted in an instant and his body went slack against her heat.

Yvette moaned and pressed him against the wall, her tongue flicked against his lips and ran teasingly around his mouth. When she pulled back a trail of glimmering saliva followed.

Yvette had jet black hair, beautiful sea-blue eyes, skin the color of cream and breasts that were to die for. They were the biggest Wils had ever seen, bound and pressed together by a length of metal chain that made an obscene amount of cleavage. On one arm, Yvette had a dark sleeve of tattoos that ended at her bare shoulder.

Alva came to Yvette’s side and stared at Wils with dreamy, heated eyes.

The pair moved in tandem, one lithe and the other curvy. Alva swayed her hips when she walked and Yvette bounced on the tip of her toes, making her breasts bulge over the gleaming silver links.

Wils held himself against the wall, finding it hard to think. What had he been doing here? His mouth burned, he was so hard. He looked at Toren with glassy, unfocused eyes, barely able to string together his thoughts.

The two women fell against him, Yvette went low on his neck, kissing up his body to his earlobe, while Alva went to work undoing the leather straps that held his armor; the two women, with practiced skill, had him naked in seconds. His hard cock bobbed in the cold air, pre-cum dripped onto the floor from his engorged tip.

Their bodies folded into him and made him appreciate the differences in each woman; Alva was all lithe muscle, impressive curves in places, but the underlying was a toned athlete’s body, while Yvette was just pure soft heat.

Metal manacles clapped against Wils’ wrists. He moved his arms instinctively, but all that did was make the chains rattle. He turned to look at his freshly bound hands, but Yvette guided him back to her eyes; they were glowing, like deep pools of ocean water, calling him, begging him to dive beneath the waves and be with her.

“You’ll like this, Alva is really good with her tongue,” Yvette said, inches from his mouth.

She leaned forward and kissed him, flattening his back against the wall as Alva’s warm mouth sank halfway down his length. Alva’s tongue made a bed for his cock to rest upon, while her lips bobbed up and down his shaft, coating him in hot spit. When she moved to the top, her tongue would curl around his glans and luxuriously soak in his cum.

His body went stiff. Alva’s cheeks hollowed and the pressure, the wet inferno of her mouth, pulled at him with fierce need. A tingle in his balls turned to a sudden rush of overwhelming pleasure that made his arms and legs thrash. The chains caught his wrists and Yvette flattened him against the wall, hard nipples pressed into his bare chest. Yvette’s fingers curled into his hair, her lips muffling his screams.

A flood of cum erupted into Alva’s waiting mouth, soaking her tongue in hot seed that mixed with pooling saliva. She sucked and swallowed, slurping greedily, leaving trails of spit that ran between her breasts and down her taut abdomen.

The pressure, that need to cum, only grew after the first few ropes erupted from him. His balls were too full, he ached with the need to be touched, the need to be sucked, the need to be fucked, the need to give them everything.

He whimpered as Alva pulled back and pursed her lips against the wet tip. The head of his cock swelled.

“No, please, don’t stop,” he begged.

Yvette put a finger to his lips and smiled ravenously. “You’ve seen what she can do with her tongue, now it’s my turn to play with you.” Alva moved to her side, a delighted expression on her her face. She looked up at him with dreamy, smokey eyes.

Yvette sank to her knees, slipped his glistening cock under the silver chain and pressed him between her massive mounds. The metal bound her breasts together and made a tight, yet soft tunnel of pure, squishy heat. She closed her eyes and licked her blood-red lips.

“You’re a big one,” she said breathlessly.

She began to rock on her knees, fucking him with the tight, wet hole her massive tits formed. Wils was no stranger to sex, he’d laid with many women, but this was the single greatest pleasure he’d ever known. The feeling overwhelmed him.

The more she fucked him the more pre-cum he would make, the more pre-cum he made the greater the pleasure. It was a never-ending cycle that paralyzed his body and kepr him hovering on the edge.

Alva sat behind Yvette, kissing her slender neck and playing with the glistening wet folds of her pussy. The chamber filled with the smell of sex. Alva licked her lips and stared at Wils, the smell of his cum too much to take.

“I want more,” Alva growled.

Yvette grunted in pleasure, her honey-laden voice came out strained as she slammed her boobs down against his thighs, “Not yet, I want to feel this mortal soak my tits with his seed.”

Yvette moaned and pressed the sides of her chest together. Her massive tit-flesh collapsed around his girth, almost becoming unbearably tight. The overwhelming pleasure enslaved his mind, made him crave her, made him want to soak her skin with his seed.

Finally, after a painful eternity, he couldn’t hold back the tide of pleasure any longer. He screamed and the pressure within his body became a violent cascade.

Yvette excitedly screamed too as the first ropes of cum erupted between the chasm of her breasts. The flow was like a broken dam and the more of his essence he released the deeper and more intense the pleasure became. His muscles went rigid.

The chains that bound his wrists scraped the wall with every movement, his hips thrust on their own accord, burying his length deeper in the void of her wet heat. He languished in the throes of ecstasy for a horrendous amount of time – cum dripped down the front of her body and coated the glistening chain, but still she kept rocking on her knees, not content to have every inch of pale, soft flesh covered in his seed.

Alva leaned over Yvette’s chest and took the head of Wils’ throbbing prick between her lips; they moved in tandem again, Alva’s mouth falling, slurping at the head of his cock with wild, sloppy technique, while Yvette’s massive breasts squeezed every inch of him. Cum and spit poured down the front of Yvette’s curvy body in equal measure, making her skin shimmer in the torch-light.

Wils’ body began to grow cold and weak. His heart, which had beat like a battle-drum the entire night, slowed to a crawl. Something was wrong. He could barely strain his voice to make a sound, even a groan of pleasure whispered on his lips and died just as quick. He hung limply by his wrists, legs barely able to keep his body upright.

He stared down at Yvette and her cold, blue eyes stared back; his consciousness faded in the depths of her, the ocean that called his soul like a siren’s melody.

THE END OF CHAPTER TWO