Cytheria and the Amarok

A Monstrum Universe Homage by Rich Humus
richhumus@gmail.com

https://www.wintermutexstories.com https://www.wintermutexstories.org https://www.asstr.org/~Wintermutex/

Content: Young Girls, Rape, Monster Rape, Oral Fixation, Pregnancy, Mind Control

Part 1 – Childhood Terror

Cytheria was bored. This was her fourth class in a row, and on such a beautiful spring day, there should have been a law against keeping pretty little twelve year old girls in a boring old school, even if they were blonde mages and needed to be educated and trained, so they could use their magic to protect the people of her Teleria from the monsters. It just wasn’t right, she thought.

Outside, the air was warm and sunny. She could hear the insects clicking and clacking, the birds trilling. The warm breeze blew aside the gauzy white curtains from the tall windows in the classroom, and it carried with it the nearly intoxicating scent of flowers and growing grains. Cytheria inhaled deeply, the aromas reminding her, though sorrowfully, of home, the home that was now gone, destroyed like so many others, by bands of the marauding Monstrum species that had been terrorizing the lands for so long. The Corpsum Gorillas had come down out of the foothills that horrible night, setting fire and killing; wanton destroyers of anything peaceful and harmonious. She closed her eyes in sorrow, bowing her head as she did.

It had been a cool, crisp autumn night, and the stars were out in the millions, it seemed. The sleepy village was quiet, many of the small families having settled in after dinner. They spent much of the day harvesting their grain and maize fields, the men and older boys working quickly, the women and younger children keeping a watchful eye on the horizons. As the golden sun set, the families hurried home, and smoke from the cooking fires in each small home soon spiraled over the small village as each family set in to eat, tell stories, and finally take to bed after the long hard day. Calm settled in over the sleepy burg.

The raid came unexpectedly in the deep of night. Fearsome roars of battle and the thunderous stamping of hundreds of brown, hairy feet foretold the murderous band’s approach. Families throughout the town awoke in horror as the wave of beastly ugliness crashed over the sleepy town. The little golden haired girl, not even nine years old at the time, had watched in horror as the huge ugly beasts had thundered into the small village, knocking down her home’s flimsy door and bursting into the little cabin her father Artemis had built for them all.

She could hear other cabins and huts being breached as well, as the band of monsters targeted each candle-lit window. She and her little sister Alteria huddled in fright, hidden deep in the corner shadows, clutching each other and sobbing gently. It was horrible. One ugly brute viciously swiped a huge, hairy paw at her older brother Troilus as he tried to defend his sisters, knocking his trim body aside, his head cracking ominously against a corner of the window frame, his body falling senseless in a heap, blood streaming from his nose.

They watched in terror, breath caught in their throats as their father fought bravely against the overwhelming odds, the stronger beasts toying with him as he lashed out at them, holding a stout piece of ironwood in his hands, batting at them repeatedly and shouting at them like growling dogs. The snarls and grunts of the huge beasts reverberated around in the small cabin, as they shattered the rustic furniture, laying waste to the small rooms, overturning food storage casks, sweeping cutlery and belongings from the tabletops. One large white beast in particular was combatting Artemis, lashing out with his strong arms to grasp the ironwood and wrench it out of the human hands, and then reaching with the other arm to throttle the poor defender, a huge hairy paw clutching the man’s neck. His body was picked up right off the floor, legs kicking, but the ogre was simply too strong, and Cytheria watched in horror, shielding her little sister’s vision, as the life was squeezed out of their brave father before their very eyes. The beast casually dumped the body on the floor and turned, growling. His prize cowered in the far corner, sobbing and screaming in terror.

Cytheria’s mother Leda had screamed in horror watching her husband and mate viciously murdered before her. She scrabbled backwards as the animal turned towards the sound, her heels digging into the hard wood floor, trying to retreat back out of the range of the monster. His flaming red eyes lit on her though, and he grunted and leaned back, pounding his fists on his huge chest and letting out a ferocious roar of triumph. He leapt forwards, closing the small distance between him and his prey in a single long bound, and reached out to pull the fearful woman out of the shadows. He grasped her hip with one strong paw and crudely wrenched the simple wrap of clothing off her struggling body with the other, leaving her naked and defenseless. Her screams and whimpers rang in the little girls’ ears.

Suddenly, Cytheria noticed the ugly erect sex organ sticking up from the animal’s loins, its angry red tip already dripping with blood lust. It was as thick as her arm, and nearly as long, and the poor woman in the beast’s grasp could do nothing but cry out in pain as the monster pushed the woman’s body down onto his organ with a triumphant cry. As his fearsome cock split the poor mother’s anguished pussy, the trembling little girls watched in horrible fascination. The beast grasped the poor woman by her trim waist and pistoned her wriggling body up and down on his foot-long penis, causing the young wife to moan in anguish as her body was mistreated for sexual satisfaction. The beast reached across the counter top he held her against and dipped a free hand into a small bowl of cooking fat they’d been using and then slapped it wetly against the woman’s crotch. The grease aided the entry of his fat cock into the woman and eased her own tremendous pain somewhat. His thumb rubbed roughly against the juncture of their two bodies, causing her little bud of pleasure to react in spite of her horrible rape.

The animal continued to thrust his fearsome weapon in and out of their mother’s tight channel as the young girls watched, hypnotized. He spun and laid her across the rough wooden table that just a few hours earlier had seen the happy family arrayed around it, enjoying a meal of fresh vegetables, warm bread and sweet honey mead. Leda’s mature body vibrated and shook with the rough sexual attack, her womanly breasts wobbling back and forth, nipples hard and stony, nipples which had only short years ago nourished her three beautiful children, but were now being twisted painfully by the beast’s clutching paws. Suddenly, Cytheria and Anteria watched in amazement as the beast growled with victorious release. He pushed his length fully into the spastic woman, and his ugly cock belched a cup of hot, slimy sperm-laden gorilla semen directly into her womb. The combination of his thumb roughly manipulating her pleasure center, and the natural reaction of a Telerian womb to a flood of sperm brought a scream of sexual release to her, her cries and whimpers gradually fading to a quiet, but throaty gasp of pleasure as the beast thrust into her a dozen more times, flooding her insides with the grotesque amount of semen his kind were known for. He beat his chest in triumph and then schlucked his still hard and now bloody cock from her body, leaving the woman trembling, breathless, and her pussy leaking a pinkish, white river.

Suddenly, another Corpsum appeared at the doorway, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the dazed, naked wife. He stepped forwards and covered her with his strong, furry body almost immediately, and the rapes continued.

Poor Cytheria and her sister watched in abject horror, unable to move, as their mother was repeatedly raped by the monsters, over and over her small body writhing in pain followed by pleasure, her pussy and abdomen swamped with hordes of Corpsum semen until it flowed down both legs, hanging almost lifeless from the edge of the wooden table. The bestial orgasms rippled through the woman despite her pain and anguish, her body betraying her, her mind cursing her species and the reactions to her sexual assault. Cytheria trembled in fear as she watched her mother brutally attacked and violated by over a dozen of the sadistic beasts, each one pushing his misshapen and grotesque cock far up into the woman’s body, much too far for her smaller organs to withstand.

Generation after generation, females from her tribal lineage had been abused, raped, sexually attacked, and after so much time, the hated ejaculations triggered a feverish orgasmic reaction that had saved her ancestors from going insane with the near-constant sexual torture. Her mother had told her of the adaptation, as her mother before her, and her mother before that. The young Leda had sat spellbound in terror as her own mother described being raped by the attackers from over the sea hundreds of times over months of occupation, her body swamped by gallons of vile seed, and the paroxysms of pleasure that swam through her limbs. Every known species of rampaging monster, it seemed, had known the pleasure of violent rape of the defenseless human women. Over the generations, adaptations happened. Minds altered. Organs shifted. The monsters took their pleasure without any regard for age or suitability. A six year old child was as likely to be covered in beast cum as a 70 year old grandmother.

Leda’s battered womb sucked at the vast amount of ape semen being splashed into it, despite the horror of the attacks. The sperm drooled from her opening, and dripped wetly onto the floor, tinged pink with blood from their huge penises. The beasts would sometimes delight in spraying their salty, ugly ejaculations across her body, marking their conquest with spermy trails that crisscrossed the young wife, her breasts iced with the stuff, her face waxed like a dripping candle. It was well known how large the Corpsum ejaculations were, and before long the comatose woman was nearly covered in white slime.

The vicious rapes continued long into the night, Leda’s screams and moans and hoarse panting ringing in the ears of her own young human daughters as they watched horrified. Every few rapes, a monster would flip the tiny woman over, hauling her hips up and using both long, furry thumbs to pry open her round buttock, and Leda suffered the inhumane indignity of having those rough, long cocks forced through her tiny anal ring, her screams rending the air and causing her young daughters still watching fearfully to cover their eyes in fright. The Corpsum didn’t care, though, they wanted only a warm human hole in which to pulse their horny cocks, and Leda’s guts took spurt after spurt of the hot salty semen in, her belly sloshing with the foul liquid. Then, she’d be roughly flipped onto her back again, her legs held up by long hairy arms, and another penis would slice into her red and feverish womanood.

Finally though, the monsters had slaked their sexual thirst, at least for the moment, and after a long, tense period Cytheria realized they’d gone and not returned. She trembled, cautioning her little sister to remain hidden. She got slowly to her feet and crept from the hiding place, fearful of what she might find. She padded silently up to her mother and lightly touched her slime-covered pink lips. They were cold. Her mother’s sightless eyes stared up at the thatched ceiling through the pools of semen in their sockets, and Cytheria cried out in sorrow and grief. They scared child leaned her head down to her mother’s shoulder, unmindful of the cold, slimy evidence of her mother’s killers smeared on her cheek. Raped to death, her mother’s lifeless body would at least now not bear the horrible mutant offspring of the Corpsum. Cytheria knew that human females of child-bearing age were often powerless against the onslaught of the beast semen. It survived in their wombs often for days, waiting for fertility, and then ceaselessly attacked the defenseless little egg until a horrible hybrid beast would form. Human girls who’d been captured by the Corpsum became fertile to them within days of the Conversion. They bore only males.

Cytheria tenderly kissed her mother’s lips, ignoring the salty, bleachy gloss, and whispered soothing words that were not heard and a quick prayer to the gods that would not be answered tonight. Cytheria murmured, ‘Godspeed, mother, please comfort father for us. We will survive.’ Barely seeing through her tears, the girl gathered up her fear-frozen little sister and they both ran into the night, padding down the dark unlit paths until the next morning when the stars finally gave up their light to the bright sun, and they were rescued by a military patrol alerted by the plumes of black smoke that showed where their village had once been. A patrol was sent back for survivors. Cytheria and Alteria waited, trembling, hungry, nearly naked, with the rest of the young military men. Late in the afternoon, they returned. Several other young girls, none past their mid teens, had been found cowering in the shadows, along with a half dozen young boys, and several elders whose tired eyes betrayed their gloom. Everyone else had been lost.

Back in the schoolroom, Cytheria shivered with the memory, trying to push it away, back into the recesses of her mind. She was thankful for the kind soldiers who took her and her sister in, fed them, clothed them, and had them evaluated and placed in the Magisterium schools they needed. They shared a small room off to the edge of the barracks, and all the men became their foster fathers, doting on the pretty young girls and making sure they were safe, warm, and well fed.

Cytheria smiled to herself at that thought. One good memory. Her sister Alteria was most traumatized by the horrible attack they’d both lived through. Only six, and not long from her mother’s breast, the little tyke found odd comfort from suckling at the only substitute presented to her. It took but a few hurried orgasms from grateful soldiers for the milky-colored and salty male fluid to replace her mother’s milk. The men, at first hesitant at the child’s insistent pawing, finally realized that their participation was only a gentle kindness for the orally deprived young girl. Young Alteria spent long hours each day laying contentedly between her benefactors’ strong, widespread legs, sucking stream after stream of the pacifying liquid down into her belly. The men would line up between their duties, ten, twenty, sometimes thirty in a row. Undoing their trousers, they’d tenderly lay their grown members into the baby bird-like open mouth before them, letting their young charge ring her lips around their crowns. Her tiny fingers couldn’t encircle any but the smallest organs. But she learned how to slide her cute fist up and down the shaft before her, until the cylinder bucked and sprayed her hungry mouth with the greasy fluid. The men patted her head tenderly, and made sure to cuddle the grateful child each time.

At first, Cytheria tried to dissuade her young charge, but then realized that her sibling didn’t see the act as sexual, she had no concept of that idea at her young age – only that the warm spurting comforted her little psyche. The men loved the attention, surely, and Alteria grew to love them all as well. Cytheria knew the men would do anything for them. Late each afternoon, Alteria would stagger back to their little room, her lips swollen, her chin dripping the warm white goo, smiling and happy, rubbing her tummy.

The psychic tests showed both girls had innate powers, as yet untapped and undeveloped. They would be trained and schooled to become mages, teen protectors of the realm, able to use their magical powers to cast spells, direct powerful energy, and, most importantly, telepathically communicate with each other across short distances. They could also sense the presence of Monstrum species much earlier than any grown adult. Their powers needed to be channeled though, harnessed and sharpened, trained for the half-dozen years they’d be useful. By the time they reached their late teens, the magic always waned. There were no twenty year old mages.

“Cytheria, perhaps you’d like to rejoin the class and tell us all you know of the Amarok we’ve been studying,” said her instructor, an old and almost feeble ex-mage of 45 years, Sinwanda. Her voice was rough, raw, like sandpaper dragged across glass. Cytheria gulped and stood, reddening. Luckily, she’d always studied the Monstrum Factorum religiously when asked, and was sure she could reliably answer the question. Reports had surfaced that the fearsome beasts were probing the northern limits of the land, coming down from their northern haunts, adding to the Telerian misery.

“Err . . . um . . . the Amarok is a large, wolf-like monster, adult specimens range from 7 to 12 feet in length including tail. They are fur covered from head to toe, except for the midsection and groin area. It is thought the Amarok are a cousin of the RapeWolf species, however they are more man-like than the RapeWolf. The Amarok has a human torso with two long, strong arms. Two powerful legs are used for locomotion. Most Amarok have been seen using a loping, long legged stride, rather than a four-legged gallop. They have a human-like head, but a long snout and ferocious teeth. Most adult males have a mane similar to the Ground-Lion but not as large. . .”

She paused.

Sinwanda tapped her foot loudly. “Continue.”

Cytheria understood what she wanted.

“Umm . . . uh . . . the Amarok hunt in packs of 20 to 30 animals, usually at night. It is nearly impervious to conventional weapons such as spears or swords, because it can almost never be fought hand-to-hand due to its size and strength. Magic has been known to be effective, especially time-freeze spells and immobilization casts, although certain Amarok are known to fake the effects of a spell in order to draw their prey in closer, for a death swipe. Amarok skin is leathery, quite thick, and protects it against conventional weaponry.”

She had to take a breath. Reciting the rote knowledge was simple, but taxing to a little girl’s lungs.

“Continue.” Sinwanda looked flush and warm. Cytheria thought she was probably wishing she’d been captured by a marauding band of Amarok.

“Uhh . . . the Amarok have been observed attacking caravans and merchant trains, even when guarded by our troops. They attack at night, killing males and all females over . . . over 30 summers. They are unafraid of fire, unlike many of the Monstrum species.”

A breath.

“Amarok kill by slicing open the neck and severing the arteries. Often by a single swipe of the paw. Each paw has four long claws that range from three to eight inches in length. They are kept razor-sharp by using fixed oilstones. This use of almost tool-like artifacts is thought to separate Amarok from most other Monstrum.”

“Amarok enslave females between 6 and 20 years of age. They are used as pack toys, sexual playthings, and for . . . breeding.” The young girl gulped.

“It is known that conflict causes the Amarok sexual drive to magnify greatly. Frequently, Amarok are seen in an . . . aroused . . state during their killing sprees,” the girl reddened and watched from one corner of her eye as Sinwanda unbuttoned the top two buttons of her white blouse, allowing the upper slopes of her bosom to nearly burst from their confines.

“There have been reports of Amarok raping older women during their raids, before killing them or leaving them for dead. However, it is known that captured females are brought back to the pack’s encampment without . . . major harm.” The little blonde stopped again to catch her breath and try to calm herself.

“Describe the Amarok’s mating habits, please,” Sinwanda breathed heavily.

Cytheria paused and took a deep breath. She always hated this part. It was so disgusting.

“Amarok sexual behavior is marked by a nearly unlimited capacity for breeding. The typical sexual member is eight to twelve inches in length, and three or more inches in diameter. The testicles are large and able to produce several dozen ounces of. . .ejaculate. . .on an almost uninterrupted basis.”

The young girl felt a tremor in her loins, a blush spreading across her upper chest.

“Amarok have been observed engaging in up to a half-dozen sexual encounters in a row, with what appear to be complete and voluminous ejaculations during each encounter. The penis is marked by large blood-supply veins that run the entire length of the organ. The head is broad and smooth, but carries a ringed collar that expands to lock the penis into the mated female during climax. The Amarok needs almost no recuperation time between sexual events, and is able to maintain erections across multiple matings.”

The young mage shuddered.

“The semen carries the usual mental, emotional, and physiological Conversion effects. It appears to facilitate stronger orgasms, and increase the number and intensity of them in a Converted female. It is known to carry large amounts of various trace minerals, sugars and proteins, and some believe that if a mate is introduced to it early enough in her life it may be the only nutrition she requires. Or gets. Amarok seem equally prone to oral and anal rape habits. They have also been known to pair up and simultaneously attack any female of enough size to accommodate their organs.”

“Pregnancy occurs only after Conversion and girls and women can bear litters of two or three young, only males, often twice a year, once the Conversion has been implemented. Girls as young as eight have been known to give birth. The sexual organs, uterus and vagina are adapted to gestate the pups, and a pregnant female’s breasts increase in size to facilitate nursing the litter. The breast milk begins expressing within minutes after birth and continues for up to three years.”

The young blonde girl had to stop and compose herself. Her insides seemed to be going topsy-turvy, and there was a curious warmth in her belly. She glanced up at Sinwanda. The instructor had actually opened her blouse further, and had one hand burrowed into it, grasping her breast and kneading the fleshy mound, her eyes closed, nostrils flaring.

The class watched fascinated as their instructor seemed to float away on a cloud of self-gratification. Long moments passed, and then the older woman shuddered and exhaled a long breath, and then opened her eyes once again.

“Um . . . yes . . very good, Cytheria, very good.” The woman dipped her head and took a deep breath again. She seemed pensive and thoughtful for some time.

“You will have to excuse me for my momentary disruption, class . . . but I am one of the very few living females ever to have been rescued from an Amarok pack. I was nine when I was abducted, and my family was murdered by those . . . horrible, horrible beasts.” She visibly shuddered.

“I was carried off and raped continuously by the entire pack, often by two or three Amarok at a time. I became pregnant within days, and my belly swelled within a month. It was the most horrible, awful time of my life. I was given almost no wholesome food while carrying, and was forced to drink liters of that grotesque ejaculatory fluid. My first offspring were two young male pups, and within just days of their arrival, I was being raped daily once again. The orgasms came, unwelcomed but impossible to stave off.”

“I gave birth to several litters over the next seven years. My meals were scraps of small game meat, bland, tasteless vegetables growing wild, and almost always in a soup of Amarok semen, with only the occasional scrap of real meat tossed my way. Every day, I was forced to orally honor the alpha males until my belly nearly burst with their damned scum. The horror of it has never left me, and the Conversion has affected me ever since. I was only rescued years later, and spent several months in hospital, trying to recuperate. My throat was permanently scarred. I nearly lost my voice. My sexual organs have been permanently damaged. I- , even now, I can’t have normal sexual relations with adult men. Only self-gratification or . . . bestial sex is sufficient for me,” as her voice trailed off and she buttoned her blouse and sat behind her desk, her sadness and gloom evident. “It is important that we recognize these beasts and deal with them quickly, harshly, and permanently. They need to be exterminated.”

Part 2 – Lessons Learned

Soon enough, Cytheria and her sister graduated from mage classes, Alteria as an apprentice while Cytheria became a full-fledged mage. Her most powerful spells could halt even the largest of their captive beasts, and she loved wearing the tiny suits of allocite and dreamcloth. After graduation, they were attached to a unit of military guard troops in a far-flung outpost of the peaceful nation, having to say a tearful goodbye to their erstwhile military protectors. But the excitement and newness of the assignment helped them adapt.

Their new home was a seaside village far to the east and north of their old homeland. Both Cytheria and her sister loved to frolic in the surf, floating on their backs and closing their eyes to the warm, bright sunlight reflected off the gently crashing waves. When they were finally dispatched on a three-month long patrol, the two young mages were joined by more than twenty girls who were fifteen and sixteen years in age, some of them ex-mages. It had been found that military troops were less likely to desert and return to their native farms and towns if they were kept sexually entertained while on missions, so each battalion of one hundred men was supplied with at least a dozen girls employed as professional concubines.

They were called the Joy-Givers and were zealously guarded and treated surprisingly well by the troops. Cytheria immediately attached herself to one of them on their first day’s march, a petite young raven-haired spitfire named Oleandra. Oleandra had been a mage like herself until age 13, when a careless dalliance with a young army officer had begun her magical power’s decline. By 16, she’d been a Joy-giver almost two full years, and Cytheria loved to hear her spin tales of the parties, dances, and wonderful balls she attended in the big cities of the realm. The first evening of their march, they made camp a few leagues from the city.

“Oh, it’s so wonderful, Cytheria, the parties we’d go to. We’d all get the most luxurious and beautiful gowns, and spend the day being bathed and perfumed in glorious splendor. Our escorts would arrive on beautiful horse-drawn carriages and we’d be whisked off to the elegant estates where the parties were held. It was so much fun. We’d eat and drink ‘til we were silly, and then the men would line up and we girls would ‘entertain’ as many as we could. Sometimes the other girls and I would have contests to see who could please the most men in one evening, or who could accommodate the greatest number of men at one time,” she whispered to Cytheria one evening as they sat bow-legged on the earth floor of their tent after much of the camp had retired.

Cytheria listened with rapt attention. Her mind whirled. As virginal as her body still was, she marveled at the thought of so many men making love to her. Since that awful night in her village, she’d pushed the idea of sex to the back of her mind as much as she could, but realized that her magical abilities also meant her subconscious mind was hyper-active, and images of bestial rape and frenzied coupling swam through her dreams at times. It didn’t help that Alteria spent so much of her nights with her own little mouth firmly attached to the groin of one hardy soldier or another. Or another . . . or another. . .

“Oh my gods, Oleandra, how could you do it? I mean, it’s just so . . . so bad!” she blushed at her new friend.

“You will see, Cytheria, you will see. I know how I felt at your age, not really so long ago. We mages must protect our virtue, it’s only through that that we have the power we need. Had I not myself succumbed to the pleasures, I might still be valuable to the realm. As it is now, I give myself in other ways.”

“Does it. . . hurt? It looks so . . . so violent!” she whispered gently.

The older girl looked at her with sorrowful eyes. “Sometimes, yes, it does. It can’t be helped. We are so small, and the men are so big. Sometimes they want to hurt us, I-I think it helps them deal with the violence and bloodshed they see. It is our lot in life to be the vessel for them. To help them get over it. After all, so many of them have lost their families too, and their brothers in arms.”

Both girls sat silent for a moment remembering the unholy terror of the Monstrum attacks on their peaceful little land that had started decades ago.

“B-but sometimes, it’s good, yes? I mean, I’ve . . . I’ve had thoughts . . .”

Oleandra reached out and grasped the young mage’s hands.

“Oh, sweet child, yes, when you are consumed by the feelings, it’s the most marvelous feeling ever. Your body just trembles and trembles, and the shivers seem to go on forever. You can’t control it after a while, you just want more and more . . .”

“What is it like?” Cytheria asked, trembling.

“Your womanhood becomes the center of the Power – it’s like a quickening, but even better,” she brought up the feeling a young mage gets when a spell is cast, or a magical transformation happens. “You have explored down there, yes?” she asked, slyly.

The little blonde girl blushed deep red and nodded. “Err- uhhh…yes. Sometimes, it- it itches. I can’t help it . . .”

“I know, sweetie, I know. It’s ok. When the Feeling comes, there is no denying it. There is no harm in self-pleasuring. In fact, it helps you find out what you really like.”

The older girl leaned in and whispered in Cytheria’s ear.

“Let me show you how good it can be, honey . . .” and let her tongue lick out and caress the younger girl's earlobe. Cytheria shivered from the eerie feeling but let herself be laid back onto the carpet of fresh aromatic pine boughs. The older girl kissed and nibbled at Cytheria’s neck as she tenderly mouthed little words of endearment. Before she could even resist, she found her dreamcloth skirt pulled away, and the bare valley of her cleft was exposed to Oleandra.

“Oh, my sweet little child. Such a lovely Venus. . .” Oleandra said, moving between the young girl’s outstretched legs. Her breath was hot, and Cytheria felt her midsection start to quiver with need and anticipation. But nothing in her imagination, nothing in her wildest dreams, could have prepared her for the feeling the instant the older girl’s tongue reached out and stabbed at her clitoris. The jolt of sexual electricity that instantly radiated out from her tiny vulva seemed to set her limbs on fire, and her brain exploded into ecstasy. Cytheria cried out and clutched at the dark hair burrowing into her, snapping her hips in response.

Oleandra knew the little girl’s magical powers would intensify and magnify her orgasms beyond her wildest dreams. She remembered her own young times. The hours she spent with her fingers rapidly strumming her clitoris sent her into raptures almost unimaginable. So she vowed to give her young friend the same joy as she felt.

Oleandra snuggled in closer, to purse her lips and capture the little hooded bundle of nerves fully within her lips, biting down softly on it and trilling it with the tip of her tongue. Cytheria responded by grunting again and moaning quietly. The second orgasm of her young life came up suddenly and caused her to clench her trim thighs around her lover’s head almost too tightly. She was sure she’d cause harm, but Oleandra was well versed by now in lovemaking, and knew how to adjust.

She pulled away briefly, to suck gently at one slim finger, and then recaptured the reddened clitoris of her friend between her lips. She gently reached down below her busy mouth and teased at the tiny rosebud she found there. Cytheria squirmed and tried to whisper, “No . . . not there . .” but Oleandra was insistent, and soon enough, her slim digit wormed through Cytheria’s defenses. An inch or two was enough to begin slowly moving in and out, and the combination of that move and her tongue swiping up and into Cytheria’s tender vaginal opening was enough to bring the little blonde through another body-wracking orgasm, her girlish cries and whimpers music to Oleandra’s ears. She so loved giving pleasure.

She let her tongue slide up and down the young girl’s still undeveloped pussy lips, lavishing them with her warm saliva and causing her lover to shake her hips, unconsciously trying to get her sex and Oleandra’s tongue to meld into one. The orgasms built on each other, over and over and over . . .

Ten minutes later, the young girl gasped to a stop, breathless, and unable to speak. Oleandra raised her soaked head up and smiled at her. Her face from eyebrows to chin was shiny with the young girl’s feminine secretions. Cytheria’s entire crotch was soaked with a combination of her own newly-found love juices and Oleandra’s saliva. She was afraid she’d even let a squirt of her water out.

The older girl moved up and snuggled next to her young charge.

“I told you it was marvelous. Isn’t it?”

The little blonde girl could do nothing but nod slowly, her body and mind still overcome with the huge shocks of pleasure she’d experienced. Never in her life had she had such a feeling come over her. She rolled over and hugged her older friend to her bare chest.

“Ye gods, Oleandra, how ever did you learn to do such magic!” she breathed.

“I was lucky – when I was around your age, perhaps younger, I found an older ex-mage to instruct me. She showed me how to have pleasure, and more importantly, how to give it. Are you good?”

“Ummmmm,” she purred. “Almost too good.” The two girls kissed tenderly, and within moments both were asleep, clutching each other together under a light blanket of Riverswan feathers.

The next morning, they were both awakened by the aroma of cooking fires and the hubbub of the camp as it came awake.

“Yo, you lazybones! Come awake and get out here to help!”, they heard a young voice call to them. The private was a lad of his mid-20s, and Oleander knew him to be a swaggering type, but not overly mean to the girls. He loved to appear more ferocious than he really was.

“Hold onto your ponies, Chazia, hold on . . . “ she grunted out at him, quickly adjusting the nearly transparent blouse over her breasts, and buckling the short skirt made from the expensive and rare lolibow material that all Joy-givers wore. She turned to help Cytheria compose herself as well, and the two, one mage and one ex-mage, walked out to help with the cooking and serving of the morning meal, before the troop suited up and began their day’s march towards the little village of Exmorana, two days away. The girls enjoyed the camaraderie of the day, and loved flirting with the young soldiers along with their sisters. By the time the sun was a quarter high, the column was on the road.

The Mages walked ahead, escorted by two guards, the young girls talking in low tones among themselves, practicing their incantations and spells, waving and weaving their staffs around.

“Here, watch those things, you’re liable to hurt someone!” a gruff Captain called out, his humorless reaction to the child-witches causing them all to settle down and walk in silence for long moments. Cytheria turned her head to see where Oleandra was in the marching procession. She spied her about 30 meters behind them, talking to the same young private that had roused them from their slumber earlier that morning. She was surprised by the brief pang of jealousy that ran through her being, but then dismissed it as foolish.

The little mage slowed her walk and allowed the other couple to catch up to her.

“Hi, Oleandra!” she said brightly, falling into place next to her. She reached for the older girl’s hand.

“Hi sweetie! Hey Chazia, this is Cytheria, the little mage I was telling you about,” Oleandra said, turning to face her young friend. “She’s almost thirteen summers, and never been fucked!” Cytheria blushed furiously and made a petulant face. If she’d been able to cast an invisibility spell quickly enough, she’d have done so.

“Oleandra! How dare you!” she spat back, furious. But the older girl smiled at her and winked, and Cytheria didn’t know how to respond. She tried stamping her feet but the little sandals she wore barely raised a cloud of dust.

They walked along in silence for a few minutes, then the young boy spoke up, almost half-heartedly.

“Well, she’s cute, I guess, for a little girl. Mages are a pain in the butt, though. Always running around half naked, getting us men all excited for nothing. They just tease and run away. Little bitches.”

Oleandra leaned over towards him and whispered something in his ear, and he grinned from ear to ear, but Cytheria couldn’t hear what she said.

“Hey, c’mon you two. I’m right here! And I’m not a bother, either. Can’t help it that I have to wear these skimpy clothes. You know how magic will destroy most cloth and fur if we try to wear it,” she said, smoothing down the tiny flap of turquoise dreamcloth that hung from the allocite chain around her waist, the flap in front barely able to cover her pussy when she stood motionless in dead calm, much less hiding her pouty hairless cleft when she moved. The flap in back came only halfway down her gently rounded buttocks, and her two half-moons held the power to hypnotize any man she happened to be walking away from. Her top, such as it was, was a few simple strands of the rare and expensive allocite, hanging in a trellis from the filigreed necklace that adorned her neck. Two small squares of dreamcloth attempted to hide her tiny nipples but did no more than tease. Cytheria had gotten used to the near-nudity, but her little sister was still anxious about her own costume, even though her own body had not even started to mature.

She realized that every man in the troop would watch her and the other mages as they practiced their routines and spells, dancing like little sprites across the training ground, leaping into the air and spinning in a dizzying ball of gleaming fire, like animate gymnasts. The men never seemed to tire of seeing the nearly naked little girls, and rude comments were common. Luckily for the mages, the Joy-Givers such as Oleandra were handy, and no doubt enjoyed the fruits of the perpetually randy soldiers every night in the barracks or along the trail.

They marched on. Day gradually turned to dusk, and the captain called a halt in a small valley, ringed by a copse of dense green firs. They made camp for the night, the Joy-Givers fetching water and building cooking fires, the mages spread around the perimeter of the camp as advance warnings should any foe appear. Several girls thought they heard rustling in the undergrowth as they patrolled, but their senses didn’t alarm them.

Soon, the smell of meats and fish cooking wafted across the camp, along with the smoky incense of the burning ironwood. Cytheria always hated the smell of burning wood, though. Too much reminding of her shattered childhood. She ate with her sister and the other mages, watching with some interest how the Joy-Givers moved from tent to tent, handing out ladles of food and drink, making sure the weary soldiers had what they needed.

About an hour after darkness fell, she was resting in her tent, just daydreaming, when Oleandra strolled up, her skin flushed, her hair tousled and wild looking.

“Knock knock?”

Cytheria perked up. She missed her new friend and was glad to see her again. She half-wished for Oleandra’s ‘lessons’ to continue. Smitten, she was already.

“Oleandra! I’m so happy to see you! Come in, please, come in. Would you like some water?” she asked her friend as she crawled into the tent and lay with a ‘whoosh’ along the furs and small pillows.

“Gosh!! Oh sweetie, I’m worn out. I had to visit five of those horny soldiers after dinner and they almost exhausted me!” she giggled as Cytheria blushed and felt her midsection start to warm. Her eyes widened at her friend’s words.

“Tell me! Oh please, Oleandra, tell me!” she whispered conspiratorially, leaning in close to the sweaty Joy-Giver and caressing her damp arm.

Oleandra just lay there for a few moments, catching her breath. Cytheria looked at her older friend with curious eyes. She wore a filmy blouse that came down to the lower slopes of her well formed but still small breasts, the under-curves showing saucily. She had on a wide leather belt with shiny brass studs and even some low-quality and non-magical jewels embedded in it. The belt helped hold up a long, but ragged skirt that varied between a few inches long and almost down to her ankles. Voluminous but nearly transparent, Oleandra’s sleek legs peeked through the flimsy material. Cytheria noticed several slippery looking, slim white streaks arrayed down the insides of her friend’s thighs, and when she realized what they were, she flushed pink from her eyebrows down to her toes.

Suddenly, Oleandra broke the silence.

“Ye gods, Cy, it was just marvelous. The first man I entertained was Bocilla, that cute guardsman from Revonia – you know him, right?” She didn’t wait for an acknowledgement. “He was naked as soon as I got into his tent, you know how guys are. He wanted me to mouth him for a while, but then as soon as he got hard he pushed me over onto my back and mounted me. I wasn’t quite ready, you know? But he pushed himself into me and luckily he’s not that big, so I was able to adjust after a few seconds and then it started to feel good, you know, and then I put my arms around him and just held him while he humped at me . . .”

The winded girl had to stop to take a breath.

“He spurted in just a minute or so! He must have been very lonely for it to happen so fast, but we just lay there for a moment and I cuddled him while he recovered. I could feel his slime leaking out of me a little. But I couldn’t stay there all night, I had others to see, you know. So I slowly wriggled out from under him and I think he fell asleep anyway, the big oaf, so I slid out of his tent and walked down the pathway to my next man. Oh, Cy, it wasn’t so much fun this time! I had to visit that big smelly sergeant Olaf, I hate having to see him usually ‘cause he never bathes and his thing is just plain ugly! Anyway, Olaf wanted to use my butt – “

Cytheria gasped. “Your butt! How does – “ and she stopped dead, the thought both alarming and intriguing her. The older girl just kept on describing her tete-a-tete.

“ . . and well you know how that is, well, I guess you don’t, but anyway, I was ready for that, I always make sure I’m clean and empty down there, you know, and I had already put a bunch of oil up there so he wouldn’t tear me wide open. Lucky he’s not big around but he is sort of long. I got on my belly and spread my legs as far as I could, and he lay right down on my back, he put his fingers in first and moved them in and out, and you know, that feels sort of good some times, but I guess you don’t, so I wriggled around a bit and then he put the tip of his thing in down there and I pushed back and he slid right in. Oh gods, Cy, I thought it would come out of my mouth!”

The girls both giggled nervously, Oleandra with the recent memory so fresh in her mind, and Cytheria with the forbidden thought of sexual congress in an opening she’d never considered very pretty.

“Well, I know how to make it good for a man, even if he’s an ugly brute like Olaf. I squeezed my butt over and over and he huffed and puffed and I swear to the gods he didn’t even last one full minute!”

The older girl laughed gaily, reaching out to clutch at Cytheria’s arm in conspiracy.

“I had one hand down rubbing myself, ‘cause, you know, you have to get pleasure somehow and sometimes you just need to do it yourself! I think I might have had a little orgasm as he finished spraying up inside of me, it felt really hot and wet as usual. I let him grunt and groan above me for a while but I didn’t really want to stay there and let him sweat all over me, I was getting flattened out!”

Cytheria goggled at her friend. “But . . . but, the men LIKE that sort of . . . stuff?” she asked innocently. “Isn’t it . . . more fun . . . to do it the regular way? Doesn’t it hurt . . . back there?”

“Sweetie, trust me – men like ANY opening in your body that they can push those hard cocks into, front, back, sideways, up or down!” she laughed back. “You gotta realize sweetie – we hold the real power! Your pussy is your best friend – you can get nearly any man to do nearly anything for you if you know how to use it.”

The girls sat in silence for a moment. Cytheria tried to digest the information that she knew, somehow, in the back of her mind, had been there all along, but she just never really acknowledged it. She remembered how the soldiers had looked at her, and her sister with longing and lusty glances. She knew that it wasn’t because they had voluptuous bodies or big breasts, like the older girls. It was because they had pussies. Those little tiny folds of bare flesh between their legs that held the key to survival for their people, and also in some ways, success, power, fame and fortune, and all because of a little hole. Yes, they’d grow big breasts as they matured and got older. But she also knew that many men had a special fondness for young, natural, still undeveloped girls like her. And Alteria.

She and Oleandra spent the next hours entwined in rapturous embrace, licking and sucking and kissing and touching each other, and Cytheria learned more about what it meant to please a young girl, and how they could please each other. She shuddered through a dozen body-wracking climaxes until they were both so exhausted they had to stop, and fell into a deep sleep holding each other close.

Short hours later, Cytheria was stunned to wakefulness by a piercing scream from several tents away, and suddenly the air was full with shouts and oaths from men as they scrambled for weapons. She sat bolt upright on her small bed of blankets and furs, her skin suddenly covered in goosebumps, tiny red nipples erect. She looked around quickly as the cacophony around her intensified. Oleandra was sprawled next to her, naked, arms outthrust, fingers of one hand submerged in her swampy loins. Alteria was curled up in a ball on the other side but she was stirring.

Cytheria peeked out the tent flap. Horror awaited her. Men were running, young girls screaming, and she saw dozens of horrible, hulking shapes moving from spot to spot, weapons at the fore. Fires lit the sky. The smell of fire and burning flesh assailed her nostrils. Suddenly, Alteria and Oleandra were at her side.

“W-what is it? I’m scared” squeaked the younger one, clutching at Cytheria’s arm.

“It’s an attack. An attack! What are they? What do we do?” added Oleandra.

“I can’t really see what they-” and suddenly Cytheria’s response was cut short as one of the hulking shapes came in to view, two soldiers valiantly engaged with it. Its jaws were snapping, arms flailing, as it cut the men down like spring weeds with its blades.

“Oh gods! Amarok!” Cytheria shuddered. Instantly, her mind filled in the horrible gaps. Amarok were giant, almost man-like wolves, cousins to the Rapewolfe but larger and even more cunning. Covered from head to toe in long, warming fur, they were said to have come from the north, slowly across the lands to overrun small towns and villages when they happened upon them. Amarok stood on two man-like legs and walked erect as often as they padded on four limbs. Their heads were large and fierce, long and deadly toothed jaws jutting out, eyes bright with fire. Their paws were tipped with razor sharp, three to four inch claws that could rip an enemy to shreds. They used clubs and rocks as weapons at the start, but quickly learned how to use the sword and pike from their human prey.

The girls watched horrified as screams from dying men rent the air and sounds of battle filled their ears. Everywhere they looked, a giant Amarok was either fighting with two or three of the overmatched soldiers, or running past with spoils tucked under their arms. Then the girls all shrieked as one Amarok loped past with a mage held firmly in its hands. She was screaming in fright, her dress in tatters, nude from the waist up.

Cytheria ran out of the tent, her jeweled staff clutched tightly in her little hand. She saw an Amarok loping past, its eyes fierce and yellow. She spun on her toes, calling forth a spell, and cast it, unseen, at the vicious wolf. The ball of fiery fury hit on a furry shoulder, sending the wolf careening sideways, to roll, yelping into a ball of pain. It rolled on the ground for a brief second, and then skulked quickly away.

Emboldened by her success, the little mage waded further into the battle, joining her sisters. She and another raven haired girl stood back to back, hurling time-stops and freeze-spells left and right, allowing the fighting soldiers short moments of reprieve to gang up on the Amarok marauders, cutting down one here and there. But a half-dozen brave soldiers fell for every Amarok who went down, and many of them slunk off, injured and hurting, but not mortally wounded.

Everywhere, cute little mage girls were standing toe-to-toe with the soldiers they were sworn to protect, hurling spells, casting invisibility nets and doing the best they could to counter the savage northern man-wolves. Blonde and fire-red hair swirled in the mist. Curses from the men mingled with the spoken spells of the pre-teens.

“Fire and Ice! Lay them to waste! Cast out ye demons and make it with haste!”

“We call upon thee, Sun-Lord Gallus of Portiana, slay these beasts as ye slew the night!”

Cytheria spun and leapt, her gauzy dreamcloth skirt flying up, her bare loins tingling with the battle cries of the men, her nipples hard like diamond points on her small but growing breasts. She saw Alteria nearby, working desperately to cast a minor spell but having little success.

“Use your staff, Alteria, use your staff!” she yelled at her inexperienced sister. She watched as Alteria held the jeweled piece level and uttered a beginner’s curse at a smaller Amarok tussling with two soldiers. The beast froze, trapped in a time spell, and one of the soldiers took the opportunity to skewer its heart with his sword, the blood gushing out in a long red plume to cover half his body.

“YAY! I did it, I did it!” the little girl gushed, jumping up and down with glee. Her joy was short lived however, as a huge Amarok jumped at the bloody soldier with a baleful growl and snapped his neck with one powerful lunge, the luckless human dropping in a heap. Alteria screamed. Cytheria ran over and turned the little one away from the carnage, and they both ran back towards the tent, where Oleandra stood, shaking in fear.

“C’mon, we have to get out of here!” urged Cytheria, pulling the other girls behind her. The three young females grabbed what belongings they could and, crouching low, left the tent and quickly scampered around behind it and down a short path towards the edge of the camp. The battle intensified as they ran, as it seemed like dozens of the Amarok were quickly decimating the human detachment.

They stopped for a moment to take it in. Men, dead and dying, lay scattered in their view, bloody entrails leaking their life force into the ground. Amarok were moving everywhere, their fur matted with blood, their growls sending shivers up the girls’ spines. Little mages were being scooped up and carried off like treasure, their excited yelps and screams almost drowned out by the more horrible sounds of battle.

The girls made their way to the edge of the camp, unsure of where to go.

“There! Beyond that fire, I see three soldiers. They can protect us!” Oleandra hissed. The girls huddled even closer to the ground and headed for the group. Suddenly, as they were just meters away, a half-dozen of the fierce Amarok came into view, engaging the soldiers. One stood and bravely wielded his long broadsword, but the nearest attacker simply reached in and grabbed the man’s arm with his longer limb and yanked, pulling the defender off his feet long enough for another Amarok to jump on his defenseless body. A third beast snarled and ripped away at one of the soldier’s tunic, his long claws leaving four horrible, bloody ravines in the man’s body, the man’s scream curdling the blood of the tiny girls watching in horror. In seconds, it was over. Three lifeless soldiers lay bloody and gruesome on the ground. The girls froze in terror.

The Amarok turned, and could not help but to see the defenseless, nearly naked pre-teens before them, shivering in fright, their pale skin reflected easily in the firelight. They pounced.

Oleandra screamed. Alteria screamed even louder. Cytheria bravely stood and tried to cast a spell but her efforts yielded only a small puff of air next to the snarling head of one beast. She swung her staff at the monstrosity, but it had no more effect than a wisp. The beast tossed her jeweled staff aside, and she found herself gathered up and crushed close to the smelly, sweaty, bloody body of an Amarok that was easily seven feet tall. It growled at her, spittle flecking her face.

Her captor spun and loped across the fire-strewn encampment. Cytheria’s predicament was mirrored by a dozen or more similar situations. Everywhere she looked, the brutish Amarok were either cutting down the human soldiers with impunity, or triumphantly carrying one or even two small girls as prizes. She looked around, terrified, seeking Alteria or Oleandra. She found her sister in the clutches of another Amarok a few meters away, legs kicking and arms flailing at her assailant. Then her astonished eyes fell on a scene that would haunt her forever.

Poor Oleandra was being raped by one of the giant beasts. It had ripped off her garments like they were paper, and had both of the young girl’s tender ankles in its strong grasp, forcing her legs apart. His fearsome erect phallus plunged into the young Joy-Giver’s center, a scream shooting from Oleandra’s lips as she was violently overcome. The beast growled in triumph as its cock forced open the young girl’s tender folds. Foul, beastly drool and spittle were sprayed in all directions as it took its pleasure from the girl’s struggles. Cytheria looked on, horrified.

Suddenly her own attention was diverted as her captor engaged a bloody soldier in hand-to-paw combat. Her captor pressed her tiny body in close to his larger brawny frame with one strong arm, and fought the soldier with the other. She froze, and looked on in terror as the Amarok, grunting and growling, fought off the soldier’s brave but overmatched sword work with its own fearsome strength and size, until the exhausted trooper was beaten down and collapsed mortally wounded on the scorched ground. Cytheria beat at the wolf with her own puny hands and fists but the animal never even acknowledged her futile struggle. ‘If ONLY I still had my staff!’ she thought.

A fearsome cry and a girl’s guttural groan diverted her attention back to the struggling Oleandra as she was assaulted. The Amarok punched into her defenseless womb and howled to the moon as he spurted, beastly semen splashing wetly into the young girl’s private parts, Oleandra shivering in pain and unholy orgasmic writhing. The beast pulsed again and again, sending his vile sperm far up into the quivering flesh of the overpowered young maiden.

Cytheria couldn’t look. Screams of terrified girls, grunts and groans of dying men, and the beastly lupine howls of the Amarok filled the air as she whimpered and shivered in shock and fear. She never even saw the brave soldier coming at the beast that carried her from the side, until he leapt at the pair in a vain attempt to save the young girl. The soldier’s pike was knocked aside easily by the larger wolf beast, and as the hard wooden shaft caromed off Cytheria’s pale forehead, her world went dark.

Part 3 – Rape and Survival

Lights danced eerily behind her eyelids. Pain boomed in her head, throbbing dull aches. Her body felt consumed by icy fire. Ugly, wet noises of beastly sexual assault, whimperings of young girls, the howls of climaxing Amarok, these and even more ugly sounds assaulted her eardrums. Screams of pain and forced pleasure both. Gradually, the young girl came awake. She soon wished to slip back into unconsciousness. The sounds of pre-teens being savagely, animalistically raped echoed in her ears, as did the matching unearthly groans and whimpers as the girls climaxed against their will during the assaults.

She was laying on soft fur of some unknown animal. Fire flickered from wall-mounted flameboxes scattered around, wedged into cracks in the walls. She was in what appeared to be a large, open cavern. It smelled horrible, like burnt flesh and horror, smoky and dank. The ceiling was dark above her, blackened here and there from untold numbers of fires through the ages. Hellacious noises reverberated around the large room. It was easily as large as any Telurian chamber hall, fully fifty or more meters from side to side. There seemed to be dozens of the beastly Amarok in there, nearly all engaged in riotous rape and bestial coupling.

Cytheria struggled to sit up, her arms tired and sore. She was nearly naked, only scraps of her previous costume left, stuck to her body here and there by sweat and blood. And, horribly, sticky and dried mucus-like blotches of something white and crusty dotted her skin from tip to toe. Suddenly, her mind went to Alteria. And Oleandra. Where were they? Her heart skipped a beat as she considered their possible fates.

As consciousness returned, Cytheria realized there was a young girl, barely her own age, on her back, being savagely raped just feet away by a monstrous Amarok. Naked, her limbs trembling and shaking from the brutal pounding she was getting, her breath was coming in short gasps as her bare-lipped pussy was invaded over and over by the much larger furry beast. She listened fearfully to the rhythmic grunts the poor girl uttered each time the animal forced his slimy cock into her squelching pussy. Cytheria watched in amazed horror for long minutes, not moving a muscle. Cytheria saw the girl's tiny nipples vibrating back and forth on the small, teacup sized breasts. They were speckled with drool and a milky film. Suddenly the tiny girl screeched and moaned from deep in her tiny chest, and Cytheria was astounded to see the girl spread her slim legs wide and wrap them as far as she could around the beast fucking her. The beast’s haunches kept pounding into the girl’s hips, over and over, dozens of times.

He crouched over her tiny frame as she tried to keep from being crushed under him. Cytheria watched horrified as the brutal act intensified, and the young victim’s eyes rolled up in her head and she screamed out in what may have been her first ever orgasm. She saw the Amarok push fully down into its prey and growl in return, shooting what had to be huge gouts of bestial semen into the undeveloped womb of the tiny raven-haired girl. Cytheria saw the ugly cock pulse over and over, emptying the gamy contents of the Amarok’s testicles directly into the poor girl’s uterine cavity.

Quickly, Cytheria’s mind replayed her schoolroom experience from those scant few months ago. The hated semen carried the unwanted qualities of the Conversion. Allowing for muscle and flesh to adjust, letting the tiny uterus and vagina of pre-teens accept the repeated intrusion of the larger inhuman phallus, the scum flowed wetly around the young girl’s flesh, seeping into her pores, sending its cellular information deep into the child’s DNA, altering it forever. Meanwhile, the billions of Amarok sperm attacked her uterus, where, luckily this time, there was no tiny defenseless egg waiting. Cytheria knew it was only a matter of time though, until the poor girl was impregnated by the foul beast and bore her first litter. She shuddered with revulsion and nearly vomited with the thought.

As the poor child next to her came down from her mind-numbing orgasm, Cytheria was astonished to see the large beast on top of her suddenly rise up and spin around, holding the child suspended on its iron bar of a cock. Another Amarok padded up, grabbing the girl by the shoulders, pulling her down with a cry, and thrusting its own reddened cock into the girl’s face. Sobbing, the youngster opened her mouth and soon was being once again sexually assaulted for the beast’s pleasure.

Cytheria couldn’t look. She turned away, only to be greeted by even more scenes of rape and unholy mating. Everywhere there seemed to be dozens of sex acts taking place, scores of furry, almost man-like beasts forcing themselves on their young captives from every direction, large lupine cocks shoved into hairless young pussies, drooling mouths, and tiny bottoms. Girls were shrieking and crying out with rhythmic precision, some in pain, others in pleasure. The air was ripe with the smell of fear, sweat, cum and pussy juice. Cytheria’s nostrils flared.

Suddenly a large form appeared in front of her. She cowered back into the shadows but it was too late. Her beastly captor simply reached down and tore her remaining clothing away, pinning her small body to the ground with one large paw. Cytheria trembled in fear and panic, bile rising in her throat as she realized that her turn had come. Her eyes were drawn to the large, fearsome penis pointing directly at her, dripping with slime and unholy goop. Who knew how many young pussies had already been plundered by the grotesque looking spear of flesh?

The Amarok growled, drool falling from his jaw, dropping wetly on to her belly. She tried to wriggle away or close her legs but her efforts were futile against the much larger and stronger animal. The beast held her hips and pulled her body up, spinning it easily and forcing her to bend at the waist as he lifted her pelvis. She felt the wet spear poking at her rear, sliding along her flesh, greased by the slime dripping from it. Suddenly, she felt the tip nudging her channel. Cytheria bowed her head down, tears already forming at her eyes, dreading the next moments that she knew would change her forever. The beast looked down at her, barked once, and snapped its hips forward.

Pain. The pain nearly knocked out the little girl as the sharp rictus of puncture flowed through her soul. Forever gone, her virginity disappeared in one tremendous lunge of a foot-long cock barreling through her tight lips, rasping into her tiny channel like a buzzsaw. She screamed in pain, her arms flailing as the beast gripped her hip with one meaty paw and her shoulder with the other. The Amarok started raping, caring not a whit for the young human pinned to him, interested only in satisfying his own bestial desires, at least momentarily. The little girl saw stars behind her closed eyelids as her belly exploded in pain.

Cytheria struggled beneath it, feeling the hard slab of flesh repeatedly tear into her, pulling her outer lips inwards with each thrust, her tiny bud of pleasure bowing between her slim opening, over and over. She couldn’t help the onrush of blood. She couldn’t help the automatic, nerve-jangling response that came up on her suddenly. Centuries of mating, eons of sexual congress between her kind and others started to flood her senses. The pain didn’t go away, it just mirrored the growing pleasurable feeling that she recognized from her recent explorations. Her mind didn’t know how to process that.

It couldn’t reconcile pain and pleasure at the same time. It couldn’t accept the beastly intercourse she was enduring, the horrible feeling of the huge cock invading her tiny channel, pushing aside her pink flesh, causing the wetness to come, but feeling so good, so right. Her mind shut down. The only thing she was conscious of was the fullness, the pounding, the squelching sounds her rape made, and the drooling spit and gleaming sharp-toothed grin above her back.

She lost track of time. She wasn’t sure if the rape lasted minutes, or hours. All there was, was a cock and her pussy. Her eyes rolled up in her head as the first orgasm hit, her little hips churning, her butt bouncing back to the pistoning groin behind her, her feet hammering at the beast between her legs. She saw stars. Entire galaxies. Her barely developed pussy lips engorged with hot blood, her clit being drawn out of its little hood, the millions of nerve endings firing off like a million honey bees.

She had barely recovered from her first bestial orgasm when another one struck, further bending her mind out of kilter and making her body shiver with painful delight. This one felt like it vibrated all the way up her vaginal canal to encircle her cervix and cause the tight ring of flesh to pulse open and closed. The beast between her legs continued to pummel her for long minutes until she heard him grunt and howl deeply in his throat and then push so far up inside her she thought she’d burst, and then she felt his cock pulse and quiver and suddenly her virginal insides were swamped with a deluge of beastly semen. Her loins crackled and snapped with the feeling and her tiny confused brain could do little but picture the untold millions of horrific beast sperm searching out her defenseless egg, swarming over it in a tide of white, fighting to be the first one to break through her little outer layer and impregnate the girl during her very first rape. She shuddered in fear and agony.

The Amarok thrust and panted for a few long seconds and then pulled out of her with a low growl, his long red cock pulling free with a wet slurp. Cytheria could feel the excess semen drooling down out of her damaged pussy, sliding and plopping wetly onto the fur skin beneath her.

She took in a breath, still in agony, still reliving her orgasms, when a second brutish Amarok pushed into place between her legs, and within moments, the poor Telerian girl was being raped a second time. Her mind refused to accept this additional humiliation. Blankly, she stared directly down onto the ground beneath her. His spittle and drool dripped wetly down onto her slim shoulders.

Minutes later, her womb was swimming in a second huge ejaculation of Amarok semen, her egg no doubt by now assaulted completely by the vile sperm, her body already carrying at least one pup. It made her groan internally.

Her third rape was minutes old before she snapped out of her agonizing reverie to realize that another Amarok was between her legs, sluicing wetly in and out of her channel, forcing gobs and gobs of the previous seminal deposits out of her pussy to drool down along both of her slim thighs and puddle wetly beneath her. The odor of all the cum assailed her senses. It smelled raw, primal, and it made her nose flare and her brain’s chemical receptors fire.

If she thought her agony couldn’t get any worse, she was wrong, but didn’t realize it until she felt a shape move over her, blocking the light, large lupine legs on either side of her shoulders. She dimly saw a long red torpedo, slung between furry thighs, dip down and drip wetly on her face, and then was repulsed when the chiseled tip bounced on her lips and sprayed a thin juice of lubricant across her cheekbones. She heard the growl from above her head. Her mouth opened almost without realizing, and the meaty penis slid roughly over her lower lip and scraped across the roof of her mouth. She gagged, choking, shaking her head from side to side in futile reluctance.

The cock found her throat, and she could barely breathe. Just milliseconds before she thought to bite down on the hard shaft invading her, she realized that she would be torn to shreds in seconds should she cause that sort of pain to her monstrous partner in fellatio, so she carefully folded her lips over her teeth to forestall any such accident. Unused to oral love, her head bent painfully back by the savage thrusts of the Amarok beast, Cytheria could do little but kneel there on hands and knees and take the punishment she was being handed.

Unfamiliarity with fellatio also meant she was totally unprepared for the huge onslaught of wet, salty, slimy Amarok cum when the shaft in her mouth pulsed and ejected a cupful of the foul liquid. Most shot straight down her unprepared gullet, but she gagged uncontrollably and her mouth sprayed the white gunk out of both corners, and her nose even drooled two small streams of white before she could snort back the creamy stuff. She bucked and twisted, her tongue assaulted with the salty, bleachy, hot squirts of cum.

“GAAAAAAAKKKKK” she blustered uncomprehendingly when the shaft pulled quickly from her maw, spitting the last of the sperm up, coughing it from between her lips in a futile attempt to rid her body of it. Her stomach felt it though, hot and wet and voluminous, a huge cupful of it. The semen sloshed in her little tummy, coating the walls with ugly gunk, her stomach lining initially rebelling at the foreign substance, but within moments her digestive system started assimilating the beastly lupine semen, its almost magical chemical components taking over her bloodstream, assaulting her human/mage DNA and recombining into the altered state known through the Telerian world as The Conversion.

Poor Cytheria’s misery continued for hours, as it did for all of the young girls captured in the raid. All the mages, all the Joy-Givers, every female in the caravan under 16 seemed to have been enslaved and carried off into the pack’s cavernous den. They suffered horrible, twisting, painful rapes until well past sundown. Their cries and whispers, whimpers and shouts, moans and groans, all echoed from the hard stone walls during the ordeal. A rape would end with an enormous flood of lupine semen squirted into one or another of a young girl’s openings, and moments later another would begin, often as not in a different opening. Stomachs gurgled with gallons of semen. Rectums filled and leaked, filled and leaked anew. Young, immature wombs were flooded with tidal waves of rich bestial semen.

And the orgasms. The unwanted orgasms that took over a young girl’s body and mind, screeching up from the well of depravity on wings of desire, they shivered and shook each young captive over and over until they could hardly breathe.

They all knew of the Conversion. How the bestial alien sperm would seep into a young female’s consciousness, attacking her very being, transforming her into a vessel for monstrous inhuman semen, adapting her to survive the hugely oversized penises that would become almost permanent additions to her vagina, anus, and mouth over time.

Finally, the huge gang rapes slowed. The vicious Amarok were satiated, for the time being. They growled and barked and yipped and howled, nudging girls who had been captive much longer, and were now viewed as little more than pack slaves, into butchering raw meat from some unfortunate animal carcass. Cooking what little standard food the little girls would eat, the Amarok displayed an uncanny amount of intelligence in providing for their captives.

Dazed, exhausted, covered in slime and with a throbbing vagina so inundated with semen that it poured from between her once virginal lips in two long streams, Cytheria stood on shaky legs and surveyed the scene around her with alarm. Everywhere she looked, naked young girls lay moaning, some fingering themselves to wring the last ounce of pleasure from their loins. Other girls, older girls, perhaps 16 or 17 years of age, walked around in a stupor, preparing meals, offering sustenance to wolf and girl alike. Many of them were obscenely pregnant. She slowly wandered around the hellish den, looking for Alteria and Oleandra, praying to the gods they were still alive.

Stumbling around the hellish den of Amarok, she picked her way between the tiny, mostly naked female bodies on the ground. Some were unconscious, fucked into insensibility. Others were sobbing quietly as they lay face down on furs, dripping slime from every orifice. Many were slowly rubbing their pussies, either from soreness or to extend the climactic shocks they’d nearly all experienced. Here and there, she even found pairs of girls feverishly locked to each other’s midsections, licking tenderly at spermy gashes. Many tiny faces were white with cloudy layers of animal sperm, sliding down cheeks in waves, dripping from smooth chins, clogging eyes with stinging saltiness, matted in what had been gloriously blonde waves of hair, drooling and dripping from lips rubbed raw from hours of penile intrusions. There was semen everywhere. But luckily, she noted, little blood.

She soon found her precious little sister, nearly comatose. She was propped up against a large pile of furs and large branches. Cytheria looked with alarm and dread at her lower body smeared with blood, her upper body covered in a glistening, drying glaze, her face and hair smeared with shiny, drying scum. Her chest rose and fell slowly, but steadily. Her mouth drooped open, a tiny river of white leaking from one corner down over her little chin.

“Oh, Alteria, Alteria, sweetheart, I’ve found you! Are you hurt, are you OK?” the older sister gasped out excitedly as she launched herself at her sister in alarm. She fell to her knees beside the little girl, hugging her shoulders tenderly, unmindful of the foul beast seed all over her.

Alteria looked up at her sister with blank, almost dead eyes. Her mouth was raw, bleeding, lips just two red scars. Claw marks scarred her naked shoulders and chest, but they were not deep. They’d even not bled much, thank the gods, thought Cytheria. She shook her sister lightly, so as not to alarm.

Alteria’s lower lip trembled, and she suddenly belched a foul odor which would have sickened the most roughened sailors from the ports of Demos. The stench of dozens of Amarok ejaculations percolating rancidly in Alteria’s little stomach rose up and assailed Cytheria’s nostrils. Alteria held her tummy. It was bulging sickeningly.

She mumbled almost incoherently, light squeaks coming up from her tortured throat, the sounds thick and garbled.

“So much. Too much. I kept being sick. They wouldn’t stop. It tastes bad, sister, it tastes horrible. Not like the soldiers-” She looked up, eyes bloodshot, rimmed in white, hair matted and sticky, chin and cheeks glazed with excess. “They knew. They knew. Somehow they knew.” She burped again, and started to sob.

Cytheria held her tenderly, trying not to foul herself with the grime all over the young girl. She tenderly swept aside the scraps of fur and clothing on her lower body, fearful of what she might find. She exhaled a thankful breath when Alteria’s private area seemed untouched. There was no blood. There was no outpouring of vile animal semen. Cytheria realized the blood she saw on Alteria was from the battle, no doubt the poor soldiers’ last efforts.

She hugged her sister closer again, whispering in her ear.

“We’re safe. We’re alive. They can’t hurt us any more.” She continued to murmur quiet words of calm and endearment for a few moments, until Alteria’s sobbing abated, and she sniffled and snorted again. Cytheria’s nose wrinkled at the unholy smell of her breath.

Cytheria waited until the little girl seemed to fall into a troubled sleep. She could hear her sister’s stomach rumbling as the congealed semen in it started to work the horrors of the Conversion. There was enough in her body to turn poor Alteria into a full fledged breeding whore in a week, she thought to herself with a shiver. Tenderly laying her sister down, she turned and grabbed a skin of fur laying nearby and covered her with it as best she could. She hoped the shadows would hide her from any more marauding Amarok.

Getting slowly and stiffly to her feet, she stumbled around, seeking Oleandra. It was difficult, the light was poor, and so many of the girls looked similar. They were all nearly naked, so clothing didn’t register any differences. She kept peering down at one dazed and fucked out girl after another, with no success. Most of the girls seemed uninjured but for the sexual ravishing. No broken bones, no bloody wounds. A lot of crying, but a lot of heavy breathing as well. She kept a hope deep down inside that maybe Oleandra had somehow escaped the carnage and the capture, had somehow managed to evade the hungry Amarok horde.

Finally, way off in the corner, hidden behind a low wall, she found the older Joy-Giver. She was laying on her stomach, Amarok semen seeping from between her thighs from both holes. It even trailed from her mouth in clear, sticky runnels. One arm was buried beneath her body, the other thrown off to the side. But she was breathing. That’s all that was important.

Cytheria knelt down next to the poor older girl, tenderly laying one hand on her shoulder.

“Oleandra? Wake up, Oleandra. It’s me, Cytheria. Are you hurt?” she queried quietly, shaking her friend’s shoulder gently.

After a long moment, the girl finally stirred. She kicked out her legs and slowly rolled to one side to face Cytheria.

“Oh ye gods Cytheria. It was horrible, awful. They kept coming and coming. I couldn’t fight back” she whispered. “How are you? Did they hurt you? Where is Alteria? Is she ok?”

“Shhhh, shhhhh. Alteria is sleeping. She’s. . . well, she’s alive. And so are you, thankfully.”

Oleandra took a deep breath, and sat up slowly. She showed the evidence of multiple beastly rapes, just like all the others. Amarok cum was clumped in her hair, streaming and drooling in crusty white icicles down the slopes of her breasts, drying in flakes and blobs on her cheeks, and leaking profusely, alarmingly, from her crotch.

“I think I’m OK. Gawd, they just kept at it. I’ve never had so much cock in me in my life! The horrid beasts would go from one hole to another to another over and over. They’d cum, rest a bit, and then start in again. My bowels feel like someone has driven an oxcart up into me. I must have swallowed pints of their stuff, and god only knows how much is in my pussy. Oh gods, my pussy!” she shrieked, spreading her thighs and using her fingertips to spread her lips apart while she peered down closely. “Does it look ok? Is it bloody or torn?” she asked her younger friend. Cytheria looked closely down at her friend’s bare cleft.

“N-no, it looks. . .ok, I guess. No blood that I can tell. There’s a lot of. . .stuff. . .”

“Well I guess so. Oh fuck me, I must have cum a thousand times. I couldn’t help it. They kept at it and at and at it!” She held her arms around her knees and shivered. Cytheria was pleased to see that her friend had weathered the awful experience somewhat well, considering. She moved closer, until they were huddled together.

“It was like, they knew or something. I mean, I’ve had three guys at a time before, and it takes some getting used to, and some coordination, but I can do it now pretty well. But these beasts, these dreadful hairy beasts, seemed somehow to sense that. There was almost NEVER any less than three of them attacking me. And others would sit there and growl if one took too long, and they’d pull him off of me and get in the saddle themselves! It was almost as if they knew . . .” and her voice trailed off.

Cytheria pondered for a moment.

“Ye gods. They do. They did, I mean!” she suddenly blurted out. “They must somehow sense the sexual vibrations or aura of a girl. You remember, I told you about Alteria, how she liked to. . . she sucked the soldiers a lot, how she found comfort in it?”

The other girl nodded.

“That’s all they did to her. For hours, it seemed. They never touched her . . . lower parts. She’s unhurt” Cytheria finished. “But she was forced to suckle them over and over and over. She must have been horribly abused. Her little tummy was bulging and rumbling with all the . . . scum in it.”

They were interrupted when a bedraggled, unkempt and naked girl of about 18 or 20 silently glided up with bowls of steaming food and a tureen of water. The two rape victims pounced on the food gladly, stuffing it into their mouths with drippy, greasy fingers. The serving girl stood by watching them silently. Then Oleandra looked up at her.

“Do you speak?”

The girl nodded and mouthed a low “Yes.”

“How long have you been here?”

The girl tilted her head. “Here? Don’t know. I was . . . nine summers, I think, when they took me. I don’t know. We have no. . .time here. Only the pack. My masters. And my Sons out there.”

Oleandra looked at Cytheria, and then back at the girl. “You’ve had litters? Of them?”

“Oh yes!” the girl visibly brightened. “Many. Many of my Sons are out there right now, seeding the new bitches.”

Both of the captive girls remembered that, like most Monstrum species, Amarok interbreeding with humans resulted in male offspring only.

“Do they have. . .special abilities. I mean, can they sense things?” Cytheria piped up. She was curious.

“Oh yes, they can sense many things. They are. . .special.” the girl answered dreamlike. Cytheria noticed that her eyes seemed dull and without light. She thought the girl had been through so much horror, so many rapes and so many bestial births, that she simply shut off and wandered through life like a zombie now.

“My last litter. . .it hurt me inside. I bled. I think it ruined me for birthing. And they must sense it for now, they will use only my-. . . other opening down there. Or my mouth. It pains me horribly but it pleases them. I can not resist” she added lifelessly.

Both girls shuddered. Finishing their meals, they handed the bowls and cups back to the girl.

“Do you have a name? What can we call you?” Oleandra asked quietly, hoping to make friends with the woman.

The woman was silent.

“My name used to be Noria but now. . .I’m just. . .a bitch” she spoke softly. “We all are.”

Part 4 – A Moment of Freedom, and Alteria’s Conversion

Cytheria, Oleandra and Alteria huddled in a dark corner of the den, trying their best to stay out of sight and hidden. There appeared to be enough girls around to satisfy the obscene cravings of the bestial pack, so they weren’t missed by the beasts, though the shrieks, moans and cries of the terrified young girls around them echoed in their heads. Everywhere they looked, hairy, hulking beasts were ceaselessly raping the girls they’d captured, sometimes two or three at a time. Bare young pussies surrendered to the iron-hard cocks being forced ruthlessly to them, tiny asses puckered and gave way under assault, dozens of immature pink wombs were flooded with hundreds of billions of Amarok sperm, and tiny stomachs gurgled under the flood of salty, briny semen being ejaculated time and time again down slim throats. The horrible orgy had been going on for hours, it seemed. The girls had lost track of time, knowing not how long they’d been vile playthings for the beasts.

They curled up under warm skins and slept fitfully, one or the other waking from time to time as a particularly vivid dream invaded their sleep, or a cry of orgasmic release echoed around the stone walls. The howls and growls and grunts of the Amarok provided an unholy background sound that they tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to drown out.

Cytheria awoke groggy, some hours later. The Den was nearly silent, except for scattered pockets of lupine grunting and low growling, and the sharp bleats and squeals of the little girls they were raping. She sat, her head still woozy from the blow she’d suffered days before, and her insides hurting and sore from her ordeal. She decided to let the other girls sleep as best they could. Slowly rising, she looked about for any scrap of clothing to wear, but there was little but small rags and such, nothing that would disguise her nudity from the beasts. She took a deep breath, and as she slowly made her way towards the center of the den, she realized that she was thirsty and needed to void her bladder.

She cautiously picked her way along one dark wall towards the opening of the den, which she could see far to the other side of the cavern, lit up with the rays of the rising sun. Smoke and various odors assailed her nostrils, and she had to work to keep the bile from rising in her throat. Gradually she neared the opening, stepping over sleeping forms and snoring girls. As she came within a few meters of the entrance, she looked about warily, hoping to not see any Amarok guarding the entrance as she tip-toed towards the outside world. Thankfully, there were none. Hugging the wall as best she could, Cytheria tried to make herself as small and quiet as possible as she reached the opening. Her breath quickened as she found it, the cool morning air refreshing her mind. She stepped through the opening and looked around.

The den appeared to be situated in a small valley between two larger ridges that towered perhaps a hundred or more meters above her. Woods and undergrowth concealed the entrance, but she could see old, worn trails and openings where it was obvious that the Amarok and their prey had traveled the paths out to the rest of the plains. Stout green pines soared off into the sky, their trunks several feet in diameter, their aromatic branches providing needed shade and soft materials for the den. She wandered a few feet down one path that led up and away from the den opening, until she came upon a small clearing. Looking around fitfully, she scampered to the edge and squatted, and her yellow stream hissed and splashed as it soaked the leaves and brush below her. The relief was welcomed as the young girl finished her work and stood to survey her surroundings. The sky above the treetops was a deep cerulean blue, and Cytheria took several deep lungfuls of the clean air of the valley. Her head stopped throbbing as the oxygen fueled her blood. She heard what sounded like water running, and followed the sound until she came up on small shallow creek perhaps ten feet wide, burbling over the stones. She knelt and plunged her face into the cool water, rubbing the cool liquid briskly up and down her body to cleanse some of the grime and filth from it. Her hand rubbed across her small breasts, and down into the cleft between her legs, washing the horror and shame off as best she could. She shivered as the cold water shocked her mind back into the present.

They’d have to escape, somehow. She couldn’t imagine being held prisoners of the pack, breeding litter after litter of horrible pups that would grow into snarling beasts. But she had no idea where they were, or where to go even if they did. Perhaps Oleandra knew the area better. She’d spent more time with the soldiers and probably heard their tales and bragging stories. She dipped her head again to sip at the cool water.

Cytheria never even heard the beast behind her. Foolishly, she’d let her guard down. She screamed loudly as one long hairy arm swooped down underneath her and lifted her up like she was a feather, clutching her to the big hairy body of the Amarok that had sensed her escape. She screamed again, her little lungs punching out the blast of sound, and she heard dozens of birds suddenly flap away from their perches in the forest around her, adding their own chirping and clatter to the sudden burst of noise. She kicked her legs and beat her arms against her rough captor, but the Amarok never even felt it. He loped back towards the cave entrance, his huge jaws gaping, drool and spittle dripping down on the fearful girl.

“Let me GO! You beast!” she yelled, her voice finally finding flight. “Let me go or I’ll turn you into a steaming pile of dragon shit, you filthy animal!”

The Amarok merely growled, low in its throat. Within moments, they entered the large den once again, and her captor simply took her to a corner of the cave and dumped her down, unceremoniously on a large pile of boughs and branches that had obviously been formed into a crude little nesting spot. She landed on her butt with a ‘woof!’ from her exhausted lungs. The beast stood there, looking down at her with what could only be described as a hungry look.

“Oleandra! Alteria!” she called out, hearing her voice echo around the stone cathedral.

“Oleandra! Alteria!” she called again. Just as the Amarok standing over her started to growl, she heard faint voices calling out.

“Cytheria! Cytheria! We’re over here!” she heard two tiny girlish voices echo past her ears. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“I can’t go there. One of these horrid animals has me. . . prisoner or something. It won’t let me move!” she yelled back.

Just as she finished yelling out for her friends, the huge Amarok crouched down and roughly turned her to her belly and then pulled her up to her knees with a strong arm beneath her waist.

“No!!! NO!!!!!!” she cried out, as she felt the animal’s rough paws push her thighs apart and use one strong clawed paw to push down on her shoulders. She felt the pinpricks of the claws pinch into her shoulder blades and winced at the sharp pain.

“OUCH! Stop it! Stop it!” she bleated, knowing it would do no good but hating herself for just letting it happen. She felt the beast’s angry red bone poking and prodding at her rear, and she wriggled her hindquarters in what turned out to be a vain effort to keep from being raped once again.

“Aiiiiirrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhh!” she cried out seconds later as the full length of the beast humping at her slipped roughly straight up into her tender channel, bumping painfully into the entrance to her womb, causing tears to spring from her eyes and her body to shake with pain and humiliation. Sobbing, she felt the beast begin to roughly fuck at her, his paws pulling back on her shoulders as she was repeatedly impaled on the bestial penis. She felt the rough, barbed skin scrape painfully at her interior, and the huge balls swing up and slap soundly into her upper folds, making her tender clit vibrate with urgency. His drool dripped wetly down on her bare back. The huge beast fucking her made her body vibrate and shake with the ferocious attack, nearly knocking the breath out of her with each damning thrust of its hindquarters.

She grunted in time with the beast’s forceful pistoning, and then was horrified to feel the smallest little rictus of pleasure start to emanate from her clit as it was roughly pummeled by the Amarok testicles.

“Oh gods no, no please, please don’t let it-” but her words were cut off by the bone-shattering orgasm which suddenly exploded out of her pussy and sent her body on an around-the-world cruise in the space of several seconds. She drew in great breaths of air as her pussy walls convulsed around the bestial foreign invader. Her tiny nipples felt like sparks were shooting from them as they hardened into little points of desire.

“No, it can’t be happening yet, it can’t . . .” she thought to herself in the back of her mind, not believing that Conversion effects could be taking place so soon after her capture. ‘The Monstrum Factorum says it takes-‘

unhh! She grunted as the beast’s powerful thrusts hit home, jolting her pussy.

‘-several weeks-’

Unhh! Unhh! Unhh!

‘for the Conversion to begin’

Arrgh!

Her poor little body, jolted over and over again by the huge animal raping her body and mind, surrendered unwillingly to the delirious orgasm that rippled through her again.

“Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” she wailed as the tremors shook her being and the monstrous cock continued to hammer away at her. The claws at her shoulder brought forth tiny drops of blood but she didn’t even notice them as the paroxysm of joy rattled her very existence.

The beast continued to plunge into her for several long minutes, rapidly turning her insides to mush until she heard it growl and bay loudly and then felt the iron-hard penis tremble and erupt with a flood of hot, white beast cum that painted her insides with a layer of semen. The penis jetted again, and again, flooding her tiny barely mature uterus with hundreds of millions of sperm and the impact drove her over the edge once again, as an orgasm took over her mind and spun out of control in her pussy.

The beast poured his essence into the tiny girl for several long seconds, and then roughly pulled out, pushing her to the ground. She collapsed with a grunt, sperm leaking from her tiny lips, heaving for breath. She had barely become lucid again when Oleandra and Alteria suddenly joined her, ignoring the beast that stood over them panting and drooling.

“Oh ye gods, Cytheria, what happened? Where were you? We woke up and you were gone, we thought they’d taken you off or something?”

Cytheria turned her head to gaze up at her little sister with one eye, her other cheek firmly on the nest of boughs below her.

“Unh. . . I- I got up. I had to make water. . .there’s an opening. . .” she mumbled, still in a post-orgasmic haze.

The girls crowded around her and soothed her, stroking her hair gently and helping her to sit up and lean back against the part of the nest against the wall. She splayed her lean legs out in front of her, and the girls tending to her couldn’t help but notice the grayish-white stream of Amarok semen leaking from between her bruised and battered pussy lips.

“There’s- there’s a stream, with water and- and I got cleaned up and was drinking when-”

“We know, we heard the commotion when that animal brought you back in.”

The girls continued to speak in low whispers as the rest of the pack seemed to be coming alive. Older girls were coming around with bread and cheese and water. They noticed the same girl who’d fed them last night nearby, and called to her.

“Noria! Noria! Over here!”

When she got to the little group, they eagerly pounced on the meager offerings, not even caring what kind of food it was. Bread? Cheese? Meat? It could have been worm-ridden carrion for all they cared. It was food, anything would have been preferable to the Amarok semen they’d been swallowing.

Noria stood meekly off to the side, and Oleandra noticed long trails of white juice sliding down the inside of her thighs, and a number of tiny scratch marks on her bosom.

“Have they- . . .already had you?” she said, nodding her head towards the girl.

“Yes. Five of them have taken me already today, in my bottom. It’s. . .to be expected. . .” her voice trailed off. Cytheria shivered.

“Where do you get this?” Oleandra asked the serving girl.

“The pack brings it back from the raids. They seem to know we girls can’t just eat raw meat like they do. The other girls and I stack it and store it for everyone. We have breads and cheese and some cured meat and other things. We even get some wine every now and then” she explained with a wry smile. “It make some. . .things. . . easier. . .”

The little girls wolfed down the offered food, casting furtive glances around as they did, fearful of more attacks by their Amarok captors. They could hear various things going on around them in the dimly lit cavern – outbursts of snapping and growling as two beasts fought briefly over a prize, the muffled grunts and groans of little girls being assaulted, the keening cry of some girls weeping and wailing over their situation. It was not a pleasant breakfast, by any means.

Cytheria looked over at her mates. They still had scratches and bruises from their enslavement, and dozens of splotches of dried cum in their hair and on their bodies. They smelled awful, too, she noticed.

“Can you get us some water to clean with?” she said, turning to Noria.

“I can. It may take a while but I will find some. And perhaps a fur or something to cover yourselves with” she answered.

“Thank you, Noria, that’s very kind.”

The little girls were interrupted just then as three large, hulking Amarok loped over to their little nest. They stopped short and all three looked at the littlest one with yellow eyes of fire. Drool dropped from their fearsome jaws as sharp white teeth glinted in the flickering light. One of them had a low growl, deep in its belly.

“They want. . . sex” said Noria tonelessly. “That’s the noise they make. See?” and she pointed to their groins.

The three tiny teens followed her finger. Cytheria drew in her breath, sharply. Alteria let out a terrified “eeek!”

Three hard, red torpedoes bulged and pointed out from the sheaths between each of the hulking Amarok’s hind legs. They were throbbing with impatience, slime dripping from each pointed tip. Behind each was a sack filled with lupine testicles, brimming with the hated semen and sperm that would bring Conversion and listless obedience.

The Amarok on the left swung a mighty paw and knocked Noria aside with a sharp barking yip. She fell to her knees with a cry, but got back up rapidly and, with a quick look and a nod to Oleandra, she disappeared back into the shadows.

The biggest of the Amarok, a beast fully seven feet from top to bottom, advanced with a grunt toward the little Alteria. He was covered in bluish-black fur, with a huge mane behind his head. His eyes were large and fearsome, his face dark but intelligent-looking. His forward limbs were like two arms, topped with the fearsome paws and claws of his race. His lower legs bent at the knee, almost like a humans, but were much thicker and longer. The other two beasts turned towards the cowering Cytheria and Oleandra with sharp growls.

The big beast advanced on Alteria, frozen solid in fear just feet ahead of him. He placed his huge right paw on the top of her head, claws folding down in the rear of her head painfully. She grimaced and winced as the angry red cock advanced on her little face.

The Amarok gave a short, low bark. Nothing happened. Alteria didn’t move a muscle, and then he barked again, quickly, and tightened his painful grip on her head. She cried out, and that was the opening he needed.

Thrusting quickly, the first four inches of the vile wolf cock slid in between Alteria’s puffy lips. He started pistoning in and out of her mouth, unmindful of the ‘glurk’s and ‘gaaak’s the pretty young girl was voicing as she attempted to keep from biting the cock. All she could do was try to keep her mouth open and her tongue moving, knowing that the sooner the beast ejaculated his vile filth, the sooner her torment would end. She grunted and moaned as the long red cock continued to plunder her mouth.

The wet sounds of the oral rape reverberated off the stone walls around the tiny group of girls and huge beasts. Alteria reached out one hand, and her sister Cytheria held it tenderly while the tiny girl was buffeted back and forth by the pounding of the ugly beast. Oleandra reached out and held the other hand, and for several long moments, all three girls were joined, bound by a common thread, as they withstood the awful rape of the youngest member by the fearsome, huge Amarok.

The poor tiny girl’s body shook and shivered with the onslaught, her legs straight out in front of her as she bounced like a rag doll on the end of the long stalk. The Amarok forced more and more of its cock down the poor girl’s throat, and Alteria gagged and choked on the monstrous wet worm. Cytheria was astounded to see fully seven or more inches of the penis being shoved into her sister’s face, and her slim throat bulged out halfway down her neck as it entered and re-entered the girl. Cytheria reached up with her free hand to gently massage her charge’s throat, feeling the rigid pipe slide down and then withdraw each time.

She felt oddly thrilled to witness the act. It was horrible, vile, and unspeakably evil, and yet Cytheria could not stop the obscene feelings of excitement that started to froth and foment inside of her. She gulped involuntarily along with her sister, with each choking gasp she heard. Almost unwillingly, she moved her hand down to lightly rub and tweak a tiny nipple on her sister’s heaving chest. She pinched the nipple between her thumb and forefinger, not roughly, but with force, and pulled the tiny nub outwards, bringing forth a moan and a shiver from Alteria.

There was almost no breast flesh to speak of, but Alteria’s nipples were already hard, bullet-like points on her chest, nearly a half-inch long. Both of Cytheria’s hands went to them, rubbing and kneading, pulling grunts and groans from the little girl being tormented before her.

Cytheria heard the Amarok issue two short, low barks, and suddenly her sister’s mouth gushed twin streams of hot, wet semen, spurting out between her lips and the beast’s cock, her throat gagging as the semen flooded her mouth. It came too fast, and too much. Far greater in amount than any human ejaculation, the thick, sperm-filled liquid poured down Alteria’s slim neck, pooling warmly in her tummy. The sperm drooled down over Alteria’s chin and dripped wetly on her chest, like two rivers of white flowing over the small, low hills of her breasts and nipples. She shook up and down, her legs beating a tattoo against the ground, as the cock in her mouth erupted over and over, shoving an unholy mix of spit and semen down into her belly.

Oleandra reached in and slowly rubbed her palm up and down along Alteria’s neck, easing the flow.

“There, there, just swallow it down honey, it’ll be better that way, don’t fight it, don’t choke, just keep swallowing. . .” she murmured as Alteria’s face took on a panicked look and her cheeks turned pinkish. The obscene gulps followed, though, one after the other, as the Amarok emptied himself into the poor girl’s stomach. Four, five, six huge swallows before the Amarok seemed to finally empty his balls into Alteria’s belly. Cytheria could hear them easily.

Cytheria kneaded and pulled on her young sister’s nipples, using the sperm overflow as an oily lubricant, massaging it into the undeveloped chest. Suddenly, her sister stiffened and her legs locked, and she uttered a whimpering cry as the beastly penis was withdrawn from her mouth, gasping.

“unhhhhhhOh oh oh oh oh!” she mouthed as her frame rocked and she looked at Cytheria with amazed eyes. “wha-. . .what’s-. . . . oh oh oh oh!” she squeaked again, as the very first orgasm the little tyke ever experienced smashed into her psyche and orbited around her brain in a fireball of pleasure and horror combined. The tiny girl shook with the paroxysm of sexual fever that enveloped her without any warning, her tiny pussy convulsing, her bead-like clit throbbing.

“Shhhh, sweetie, shhhhhh, you’ll be fine, just let it happen, let it go . . .” her sister urged gently, stroking the girl’s upper thighs with fingertips wet and sodden with beast cum.

Alteria rode out the climax for several long moments, not even mindful of the second Amarok moving in front of her face, his own dripping penis demanding attention. When she finally did, her eyes dimmed and she opened her mouth and moved her head forwards, sliding the hard red tube of bestial flesh between her lips with a contented sigh.

Oleandra and Cytheria watched unbelieving as the young one energetically mouthed the penis attached to the rather fearsome beast above them, eliciting short growls and grunts and yips from the male as she did. Alteria hummed low in her chest, sucking more and more of the cock into her throat, her own slim fingers now rubbing and pinching at her tiny nipples, pulling one then the other out from her frame until it seemed they would rip off. Her body shook and rippled with the efforts.

The beast plunged into her mouth over and over, nearly all of his nearly-foot-long cock disappearing down into the little girl’s throat each time. Oleandra looked on amazed at the girl’s ability. Her wet lips tightened around the dark shaft, saliva and cum trails making it shine obscenely in the light as it pistoned in and out, for several long minutes, the beast panting and gasping above them, drool flying everywhere from its huge snout.

The beast had no willpower, of course, to resist the obscene fellatio visited upon it by the tiny human girl. Moments after she began tonguing the dark red cock, the Amarok uttered the now familiar two short barks and Cytheria watched as Alteria’s throat gulped and throbbed, swallowing the hot, salty beast cum down into her tummy to join the first load. Alteria hummed as she swallowed, small tendrils of white leaking from her little lips as the flow was simply too much for the little girl to manage, no matter how enthusiastically she tried. Another surprise orgasm rippled through the girl as her sister watched. Oleandra whispered “I can’t believe it!” under her breath.

Alteria’s sparkling blue eyes rolled up in her head as she shivered through another body-shaking orgasm, crying out in ecstasy.

“Oh! Oh! Ohhhhhhh-. . . aiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” she wailed loudly, her lips blowing white spittle and flecks of damp semen out over her chest.

Cytheria and Oleandra could do nothing but stand by as watch as the tiny girl’s body was adapted and altered by the Conversion process that had started the day before. Neck muscles and tendons stretched and expanded, her mouth and jaw altered to open more fully, the internal membranes toughening up and becoming inured to the rapid and forceful intrusions of hard monster cocks.

Alteria’s tiny stomach was being filled with huge amounts of Amarok semen, and the volume she’d been forced to swallow the day before was making its way through her digestive organs, DNA changes happened almost before their eyes. Kidneys, bladder, intestines, and of course her stomach itself, inundated with the salty brine of the Amarok. Cytheria couldn’t imagine the quantity of the stuff she’d been forced to consume.

As her orgasm faded, Alteria looked up at her sister with teary eyes.

“Oh, Cytheria, it feels so- . . . so strange – but so good!” she gasped. “I want it to go on forever and ever! Oh my lord!” she finished, rubbing a flat palm over her semen-soaked chest, making the nubbins of her breasts stand up even firmer and more directly.

“What have they done to me? I can’t control it, I can’t help myself. Yesterday they forced me to suck on them over and over, it never stopped, I was so sick and it was so horrible!”. The little tyke was almost in tears.

Oleandra and Cytheria nodded.

“But now I want to do it again, and again and again! If I have those feelings every time I have to suck their ugly things, what am I to do?” she anguished.

Just then, Noria appeared, carrying a large jug of water. Oleandra tipped it over into her hands, luxuriating in the feel of the cool, clear liquid, rubbing down her slimy body and splashing it onto her face and limbs. Cytheria wet a large piece of cloth and gently wiped it across Alteria’s sperm-caked torso and face, speaking soothing words in a low whisper.

“It’s all right, baby, don’t worry about anything. You can’t help what they’re doing to you, it’s not your fault. Don’t let it get to you, just do the best you can.”

Oleandra looked towards Noria.

“Noria, are the Amarok that much different than the other monsters out there? Are they smarter or something? I mean, it looks like they almost know what you’re thinking sometimes. And, well, I don’t know, did the Conversion happen so fast for you? How long did it take? Poor Alteria here, she is almost out of her mind with fear.”

The serving girl looked at them for a long time. Finally, she let out a breath, and sat on a small low rock.

“I don’t know. I’ve been here so long, it seems like this is all I know. I have only a very dim memory of living with. . .humans. . .I- I mean, I was so young when these beasts captured me. I do remember them raping me over and over in the beginning. It was horrible. But then the good feelings came on too, and it got so I WANTED to be raped. I know that’s terrible and I cried and cried when they did it but something, I don’t know what, something in their. . .stuff . . . seemed to change me. I was too young to understand. All I knew was that after just a few days, I was hooked on the good feelings. I got pregnant really soon, too, it seemed, which scared me so much. I didn’t know anything about babies or. . .anything. But there were older girls here then too, and some of them helped me and showed me what to do. I- I don’t know where they are now.” she finished quietly, looking around as if to find them.

“Did they ever hurt you? I mean, apart from raping you and taking your mind?” Cytheria asked.

“Well, not really. I mean, sometimes they’d slap at you, or growl and sound really fierce, but I never saw one bite any of the girls. Except, yes, one time.” She shuddered. “Now I remember. It was several moons ago, I think. They had just come back from a raid or something, and they brought back about six or seven little girls – I mean really little girls. They couldn’t have been older than nine or ten, any one of them.”

Noria’s voice hitched a bit at the memory.

“They started raping them over and over, and they were crying and screaming and you could tell they were hurting them really bad. One of the older girls got upset and jumped on the back of one of the beasts. It jumped up and spun around and bit the older girl right on the neck, I don’t think she ever even saw it coming. Blood went everywhere and she just fell dead right there. They took her body away but no one ever saw it again.” She shivered.

“That’s horrible!” said Oleandra.

“Ugly beasts!” Cytheria added.

“But you know, I think they can sense things, more than other monsters. I mean, it’s not like they have any magic or anything, but I swear sometimes I see one looking at me with his yellow eyes and it’s really scary, it almost feels like I can feel his mind probing mine. And when I got sick, after my last. . .birthing, I was really ill, and one of them sat next to me and stood guard over me for days, I think, keeping the others from doing anything. I almost felt, well, safe.”

She stopped and looked at the younger girls, who were following her every word with rapt attention.

“Don’t get me wrong – living here among them is bad – it’s always cold, and there’s not enough food most times, and the sex. . .the rapes . . . are constant. And my bottom is always hurting, so much.”

“Do you still have the good feelings? I mean, do you cum?” asked Oleandra, shyly.

“Sometimes. I use my fingers, sometimes, when they’re. . .doing it. It helps.”

“They made Alteria cum, just now. I know she never had before, she’s too young. Somehow, something they did, or something in their awful slime, made her have a climax. And now she can’t get enough. God, she must have swallowed a pint of their stuff just now. She said it’s horrible but she can’t help herself.” Cytheria added.

Noria nodded. “That sounds right. Girls come in here fighting back and kicking and screaming, and within days all they seem to want to do is get raped. It must be terrible.”

The girls continued talking in low tones for a long time, until Cytheria looked behind her to see young Alteria lightly snoring, one little hand cupping her mound, forefinger locked to her clitoris, and a tiny teardrop of white drool at the corner of her mouth.

“Shhhhh, she’s sleeping. . . let’s-“

Her instructions were cut off by the arrival of five huge Amarok beasts. They strode up to the little group of girls, and one came forward to roughly pick Cytheria up by the waist and clutch her to his side.

“Hey, let me go you fucker! Let me go!” she yelled, beating at the side of her captor.

Noria stood and looked around warily. She noticed a large ring of torches off towards the center of the cavern, and groups of two to three Amarok standing or sitting nearby, surrounding the area. “Uh oh. . .I think I know what’s happening” she mouthed almost silently to Oleandra, pulling the other girl aside as the group of Amarok strode off, Cytheria kicking and struggling all the while.

“What? What’s up, what’s happening?” queried Oleandra

“This happened once before. It was about two years after they captured me. They all went out on a raid, and they were gone for several days. The pack was much bigger then, probably fifty or sixty of them. They left about a dozen of the older ones here to guard us.”

“When they came back, they must have captured ten or fifteen little girls. Ten, eleven, twelve year olds. They were so pretty. . .” she said wistfully.

Oleandra listened with growing fear.

“About four or five days later, they all got together like that. They made us all stand there and watch. They picked one girl, the prettiest of the whole bunch. She was so beautiful. Twelve, or thirteen at the most. Who knew? She had the finest golden hair, and beautiful eyes, blue they were, and fair skin, not a mark on her. She was just becoming a woman. It was so sad. . .” her voice trailed off.

“What happened?”

Noria was silent for a moment, staring off into space. Then she shuddered from her head to her toes, and a large, single tear fell from one eye.

“I-I guess the only way to describe it is . . . she was married to the pack. They stood her up on a large flat stone, it’s still there of course. Then they all sat around her, baying at the moon with their horrible, awful howls. They kept it up for a long time. Then the first, the biggest and most powerful of the pack back then, he crept up to her and mounted her. She screamed, she struggled but she had no chance.”

“It was awful. One after the other, they simply attacked her with blood lust. One would finish, baying at the heavens, and the next would follow, and the next, and the next. It went on for hours and hours. That poor little girl. She screamed until she went hoarse, and then all she did was sob, sob with great wracking heaves, while those horrible beasts raped her over and over.”

Both girls were silent for a moment.

“What happened?” Oleandra said.

“The next day, they finally stopped. The poor girl was completely mad. Covered in slime and filth, they used every opening she had. She lay there, covered with scratches, red and bruised across her whole body. I think they bit one nipple off. She didn’t move for several hours, just lay there. Finally, she got up and walked over to the alpha male Amarok, the first one who’d raped her, and she lay down next to him. A few months later, she had her first litter.”

Oleandra swallowed roughly. “Oh my gods…”

“And the worst part was, they totally broke her. Her mind was gone. That poor little girl, she was just a shell, just a pretty little body with no mind, no soul anymore. All she was from then on, was a breeding bitch. They raped her constantly, day after day, and she must have had ten litters. She stopped struggling, of course. When she wasn’t being raped, she had her mouth constantly sucking the alpha beast. She was attached to his ugly cock twenty hours a day.”

By now, the two little human girls came up on the ring of other females and the Amarok, surrounding the large open area Noria had described. They were horrified to see little Cytheira, huddled on the top of a large, low flat rock, slowly turning round, trying her best to keep the hellish scene from flowing in on her.

Then the pack started baying at the heavens.

Alteria collapsed and burst into tears.

Part 5 - Married to the Pack

Noria hugged the little Joy-Giver girl and watched hesitantly as the biggest and oldest of the pack padded up to the terrified, yet proud Cytheria. The Amarok was over eight feet long from the tip of his twitching tail to the large black nose at the end of his fearsomely-toothed snout. His mane was tipped with silver, over the hard black of the rest of his fur. He loped up on his hind legs, like most Amarok, and then slowly paced around the girl huddled before him. He growled low in his chest, and then raised his huge head and howled, the scary sound reverberating throughout the smoky, dark cavern, causing an undercurrent of howls and growls and excited yips and barks to follow, drowning out the keening and crying of the tortured girls and young women around the hellish altar.

Cytheria drew on all of the courage from her young life’s travails, and stood proudly, her arms crossed over her budding breasts, feet wide apart, staring the Amarok right in the eyes. It was hard for a naked twelve-year old to look fierce, but she did her best. Small beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. The Amarok stood just inches away from her, teeth bared, spittle dripping from his huge maw.

Then he reached out with one huge paw, laying it flat across the top of Cytheria’s blonde mane, and pressed down. She resisted for a moment, mouthing an almost silent “no!”. But the huge beast’s fearsome strength was no match, and the little pre-teen fell to her knees with a slight shudder. She found herself facing a red, dripping penis fully extended from its protective furry sheath. It was easily ten inches long, and nearly three inches wide. The large, angled head featured a spitting nozzle that was already shooting short, quick streams of pre-cum and lube at her, striking wetly on her cheeks and chin, splashing onto her nose and tightly-closed lips.

The clawed grip on her head tightened. She resisted but soon the splitting pain from his sharp claws broke the little girl’s resistance. She parted her pink lips just a bit, and the beast slapped his hips forward, sinking half of his evil weapon in Cytheria’s face with one thrust. She gagged and choked, saliva and pre-cum sliding over her lower lip and down her chin, and she heard the Amarok emit a sharp ‘yip’ in triumph.

If ever any cute little Telerian twelve year old girl had her face fucked by a Monstrum species, it was poor Cytheria at this moment. The strong beast stood tall, one paw holding her little head steady, while he started thrusting forcefully into her mouth, gagging the little girl on every intrusion. Her eyes watered and her chest heaved with wracking sobs as the monstrous Amarok took his pleasure from her mouth. She tried valiantly to summon up more spit, and was thankful in a tiny, obscene way, for the wet spurts of lube and precum shooting from the hurtful penis every few seconds. She felt the warm, salty juice spread over her tongue and the inside of her mouth, smoothing the rapid pulses of the hard cock as it forced its way deeper and deeper into her choking mouth and throat.

The animal kept its paw forcefully on her head, the claws digging in, ensuring that she couldn’t move without risking fearful injury. Cytheria tried to suppress the gagging instinct she naturally responded with, until one time, without even thinking, she gulped a wet swallow just as the animal’s cock tip pounded against the back of her throat, and she felt the shaft bend and enter the top of her esophagus. Panicked, she breathed fully in through her nose as her lungs called for air. The beast grunted again, and pushed more, and Cytheria was overcome, as the full length of the horrid cock pushed down into her neck. She realized that she was undergoing the same brutal treatment as her little sister had just a short while earlier, with the animal’s penis fully lodged in her throat.

Over and over now the beast pummeled her throat with his awful cock, Cytheria gulping and swallowing when she could, her breath coming in short gasps, tears pouring from her eye, her chest heaving. She had to reach out and steady herself by grabbing its strong legs with each tiny hand, or she would have been knocked backwards on every thrust. Ten, twenty, thirty, fifty times the huge long red cock pounded into her yielding flesh. Suddenly, she heard the animal yowl in triumph, and felt the penis in her mouth pulse with a vibrating shake, and her throat burned with the huge spurt of beast cum forcefully ejected down her throat and straight into her tummy. She tasted the bile rise up, as the beast ejaculated a second time, sending another hateful stream of semen into her.

But the beast had to mark its territory. She felt him pull his exploding cock roughly from her mouth, and she fell back gasping, breathing in welcome gulps of air as the Amarok started spraying her from tip to toe with his hot blasts of cum. Streams and pulses hit her blonde hair, ricocheted off her forehead, and cascaded down her cheeks to drip wetly on her developing boobs. Over and over the Amarok cascaded his semen onto her front, until she was literally covered with hot, smelly beast slime, its white streams marking her breasts and ribs, dripping down between her thighs to drool past her bare pussy lips and puddle under her ass.

The animal bayed and howled in triumph, raising his ugly head to the heavens and proclaiming his mastery of the powerless little human girl. Eventually, his orgasm faded, and with a rough bark, he cuffed her in the head and slowly made his way to the other side of the stone altar.

A second large Amarok loped up, and then a third and fourth, and soon the little girl was surrounded by large furry beasts, and so many angry looking red phalluses that she nearly fainted. Her body was pushed backwards, and she felt her legs being held apart, and the first “Pack Marriage” rape began. She shivered and cried as the Amarok took his pleasure, rapidly beating his hips against her tiny crotch, and then within moments, shooting several hard hot bursts of semen into her defenseless womb.

He was followed by another large beast, and halfway through, Cytheria was horrified to feel her first orgasm sneak upon her and explode from her sodden crotch in a starburst of painful pleasure, making her cry out and beat her fists against the furry body raping her. A second huge jolt of beastly semen splashed wetly into her cervix, flooding her insides, making the large cock squelching in and out of her slap wetly between her hairless folds.

The unholy bestial fucking went on. Cytheria shuddered through countless body-wracking climaxes, each time sucking up more and more of the sperm filled semen into her uterus, the cum seeping into her membranes, the Conversion Effect taking hold, cells splitting and reforming, DNA strands intertwining over and over again.

It was after about the first dozen Amarok had raped her into a near-catatonic state that she was roughly flipped over and laid prone down over a low bulge in the altar. The brown and black-hued Amarok cock that shoved insistently at her little tiny rosebud was the first cock she’d ever had near her down there, and she was so cum-drunk that she didn’t realize what was happening until the first sharp bolt of blinding pain shot from her ass when the tip pushed its way in. She screamed and her entire body shook with the devilish assault, but the Amarok easily pushed himself into her hot channel and began sodomizing the powerless little mage.

The pain spread like wildfire through poor Cytheria’s tormented body, setting her skin on fire and causing a fresh cascade of salty tears to pour from her eyes. Over and over the rough Amarok punished her ass, until he stiffened and howled loudly, pouring several hot streams of burning semen into her virginal ass, adding his ugly slime to her body’s tissue and further pounding the debilitating Conversion into her being.

Cytheria nearly fainted when the second hard cock invaded her ass, and no doubt would have were it not for the thick streams of cum left by her previous attacker, providing welcome lubrication for the subsequent penises. Noria looked on wistfully, seeing the long line of bustling Amarok waiting for their turn at the little girl, numbering into the dozens.

She was likewise not surprised when a group of randy beasts assembled at the little girl's head, and could only silently shake her head in sympathy when the first penis slid in between her lips and began rocking the little body back towards the huge wolf at her rear.

Cytheria’s orgasms were coming on with hateful regularity now, sometimes so powerful she blacked out momentarily, until the shivers passed and she was jolted back awake by the powerful pummeling she was taking at either end. Semen was being poured into her little body in huge waves, and leaking back out again so as to soak the stone altar with her fluids as well. Her tummy was being swamped with the stuff, huge draughts of it being forced down her throat as the Amarok orally raping her seemed determined to drown her in their fluid.

Her body was covered in slime, her once-beautiful blond locks now bedraggled and sticky with cum. Cytheria’s tender face became frosted with the white waxy juice, burning her eyes, being snorted unwillingly back up her nose when she hiccupped a particularly obnoxious jet of semen back up her throat. It sluiced down over her tiny boobs and dripped in wet white tendrils from her loins, burbling with sickening bubbles from her ass every time a spent Amarok cock was withdrawn and before the next one could push in and begin her torture anew.

The hateful Amarok were moving from line to line, Alteria realized. They’d fuck roughly up into her tiny ass for long moments, finally ejaculating hot streams of cum into her, and then lope around to the other line at her face, long pink tongues lolling out of their snouts, drippling drool as they went. Another would hold her head with sharp clawed paws and bury his long cock deeply into her throat before shooting heavy wet ropes of bestial cum straight into her stomach. And on and on during her ordeal, Cytheria shook and shivered and cried through climax after climax, the hormones and endorphins coursing through her nervous system, mixing with the hated Conversion, forcing the unwilling little girl closer and closer to mindless acceptance of the bestial couplings she was fated to endure for years on end.

The rapes continued. Cytheria was twisted and turned, as the gangs of sex-crazed Amarok poured stream after stream of wolf cum into her. Her pussy was bloodied and raw, the salty semen irritating her childish little folds, causing fresh hell to invade her senses. Her mouth and lips were beaten and puffy, slime choking her tiny mouth. Her once-cute little starfish, hiding shyly between the tiny half-moons of her butt was now a red and reeking gaping maw from which poured a sinister mess of white and red and brown.

Noria had never seen such debauchery. Poor Oleandra couldn’t bear to watch after the first few hours, so she stole off to be with and comfort little Alteria when she woke. The two of them joined Noria sometime later, long after the sun had set, watching fearfully as their sister endured the hellish agony. It wasn’t until the two moons of their system were high in the sky, reflecting off the bright white of their sun, that the devilish orgy finally wound down, and the last of the Amarok finished plundering the poor little girl. They stood or crouched in a large circle around the altar, dozens and dozens of the fearsome beasts, and as the last ejaculation shot into the nearly ruined flesh of the tiny blonde mage, they started baying at the moons as they had at the beginning of the ceremony so many hours earlier. The howls and barks and growls echoed off the stone walls, making the girls’ ears hurt with the hellish din.

Poor Cytheria lay there, bloody and bruised, her body swamped with beast semen, her chest rising and falling with labored breaths. Rivers of cum flowed away from her tiny frame, staining the stone with the latest in a countless number of rapes that had been perpetrated there. Noria, Oleandra and Alteria watched with horrified eyes, afraid to approach the girl in fear of Amarok blood lust.

They heard her groan, almost silently. Her body shook and shivered, untouched yet still consumed by waves of pleasure that were impossible to ignore. Her hips bounced up and down, fucking at ghostly cocks that were not there. Her mouth opened and gulped at penises that no longer slid between her lips to shoot salty streams of semen into her gullet. Her arms rose to hold, but there was nothing there. Her legs opened and then closed, trapping an unseen lover.

Finally, she gave one huge shudder and screamed out a last climactic wail as her mind snapped, and her young ovaries released an egg, immediately surrounded by hundreds of thousands of vile Amarok sperm. Not realizing it, her young friends witnessed the exact moment of young Cytheria’s first beastly impregnation.

Then she passed out.

Epilogue – Four Years Later

“Hey, you! Leave your brothers alone! Stop that, you mean little pup!” Cytheria’s voice rang out in strong tones, as she barked with a slight laugh at her youngest pup. He was small, but spunky, and he was chasing his three litter-mate brothers, snapping at their tails and snarling at them with fierce growls, even though he was but a few months old and not much larger than a house cat.

The girl laughed to herself as she shoo’ed her latest litter towards their home den. Her sister Alteria was waiting for them, two of her six main mates alternately sinking their hard erect penises into her welcoming mouth, as she crouched before them. Her belly bulged. Her chin and chest were dripping with semen. She paused for just a moment as she saw her sister arrive.

“Oh, hello Cytheria! How are the young pups today? They all look hungry! Haven’t you fed them all day? Your tits must be bursting!” she grinned and then let her hands run up and down the fearsome stalks of the two Amarok before her.

“I’m almost done for now, just these two to finish off, and then I’ll help you with dinner. I hear Oleandra is pregnant again! What will that make, ten? Twelve litters? I swear, that bitch must have an Amarok cock up her puss all day long!” she chuckled.

“And I remember when she hated it!” added Cytheria.

She smiled as her latest brood bounded up to the little den, boughs of branches and sticks strung between two large pillars of stone, off to the corner of their pack’s large den. They were followed by a large, mature male, her son from this year’s early litter. All he had to do was growl a little at his mother, and she knew.

Cytheria fell to her hands and knees, proudly waving her pert bottom at her son, and dipped her head to mouth a silent prayer to the gods she used to revere.

“Let my son seed my fertile garden, and let him sow many more litters of brethren, for all eternity”

Her pink lips opened up readily as the hard black and grey Amarok cock shoved them aside, and Cytheria shuddered with the first of many orgasms she’d have that night.