Lemuria

Chapter 3

Ignition

Nearheath

The Sun rose over Nearheath, its warm light illuminating Marlow's colony of shambling drones as they tirelessly worked the fields. Verity had looked on with bemusement when she first saw the tormented workers grasping at plows, scythes, and other farming implements with their tendrils, but she had to admit that the thoughtless tenacity of the brutes more than made up for a lack of coordination. They ate the grains they harvested raw, vacuuming them up with the mouths tipping their hungry tentacles. A pity, really. Verity thought it would have been fun watching one of those sad fuckers try to cook something.

Verity tried not to think about the wretched human hosts themselves. Were they aware of their torment? Or had their consciousness been snuffed out? She didn't know for sure. Marlow had become frustratingly tight-lipped about his creations and plans alike after that first night in Nearheath.

In the weeks since that time, the sorcerer had focused on practising his powers (much to Verity's displeasure and frequent discomfort) and on perfecting his little farming community (that part she didn't mind as much, as it at least kept him occupied). Strolling out from the mayor's former residence, which she had claimed as her own, Verity stretched slightly before stopping in discomfort. Marlow had taken to "dressing" her every other day, and the current theme seemed to be chains. Two ran up from a ring piercing her clit, linked to the matching rings set in each of Verity's nipples. From the succubus's tits, the chains ran up through a loop dangling off the front of a heavy metal collar, and then down along to cuffs around each ankle. The result was that, unless very she was extremely cautious when moving, Verity would constantly tug at her most sensitive areas.

Still, her situation could be far worse. Uncomfortable bindings were tolerable, considering Marlow had at least returned her body to its original state for the time being. And the discomfort of these chains was a far cry from that which she had to endure when Marlow had decided to make her spend several days in what he called a bitch-suit: arms and legs doubled up, leaving her crawling on elbows and knees with a humiliating dog tail springing from a massive vibrating plug in her ass. It made it all the worse when he set his drones on her, the beasts filling all her holes in their frenzied, futile attempts to reach parasite-denied orgasms.

A few days ago, the sorcerer had directed several of the male drones to gather up large bags full of seeds harvested from their mates and march away to parts unknown (Verity assumed to start spreading their roots somewhere beyond the town's borders). However, for the most part, when not tormenting her, he had simply remained holed up in another of the market square's buildings, a once-cozy little inn.

Gingerly sitting on a bench set on the periphery of the square, Verity watched as the drones began to file in for their morning fuck-fest. As per their new routine, they set upon each other all at once. Her brow furrowed as the square filled with moans. How much longer before something gives way? Nearheath was a small border town, meaning only a few unlucky travellers and passers-by had encountered Marlow's experiments so far. None of the groups had been large or well-armed enough to avoid either being consumed or converted into hosts. So no witnesses so far. But word would eventually get out, one way or another. And from what Verity knew about the Ephiran crown's stance on dark magic, Marlow's reckoning would be swift and overwhelming.

Nearheath Outskirts

Cole was having a hard time believing his eyes. And, as a feline beastkin, said eyes were top-notch. From his vantage point overlooking the town, he had a clear view of the horrific orgy in the square below. Still, simply observing the creatures, first at work in the open fields and now here, "at play," wouldn't be enough for the Scout General. Ephira's royal reconnaissance brigade had a reputation to uphold, after all.

A slight rustling sound provided the wary feline with ample warning of another approaching shambler, so Cole shrunk further into the thick grasses that served as his current hiding spot. Flattening his ears against the top of his head, he slowly scanned his surroundings, spotting the pitiable creature passing by his right side. Must be late to the party. After determining he was well out of its path, Cole took in the sight of the beast, committing every aspect of it to memory. The gasping, open mouth, the shapeless torso, the tentacle thrusting in and out with each step, and the painfully erect cock, clearly desperate for release. Greater minds than his might make use of any detail, no matter how small or depraved.

The wind shifted slightly, carrying Cole's scent towards the worker. He froze, wondering if it had any olfactory sense at all. The answer filled him with dread as the three unoccupied tentacles abruptly turned their...heads, for lack of a better word, in his direction. The creature stopped its march and, with a wet plopping sound, the final rubbery limb withdrew and joined its brethren. Cole was just starting to consider the best escape route when the tendrils relaxed, and the worker resumed its miserable trek. Still, erring on the side of caution, Cole remained motionless until one of the twisting limbs snaked downward and resumed plundering the helpless host's back door. What I've seen will have to do. The Ephiran scouts had another policy to uphold. "When the risk is too great, fall back. No heroics are worth the loss of the information we uncover." Silently, he withdrew and began the long journey west, toward Ephira. Princess Cleome was NOT going to be pleased.

Ephiran Palace, Princess Cleome's Office

Princess Cleome clasped a hand to her mouth, trying to smother the moan of pleasure escaping her lips. Her other hand reached out, grasping the corner of the heavy oak desk she sat at for support. Her eyes darted toward the door of her sparsely-furnished, yet elegant, office, dreading the prospect of one of her guards bursting in out of misplaced concern.

But the door remained unmoving. Cleome wasn't sure why she was worrying. She knew its thick timbers blocked out far louder sounds than--she let out a yelp as a raspy tongue brushed her clit. That fucking cat!

If there had been an observer in the room, at first glance all they would have seen was Ephira's beloved eldest princess, renowned as much for her sinuous, graceful beauty as for her skill on the battlefield, hard at work managing the various orders, requisitions, and requests that were the responsibility of her station. A closer inspection would have revealed a flush in her ivory cheeks and sweat on her brow, below her pale, shimmering blonde hair.

Had anyone circled behind the desk, the cause for her consternation would become clear. Scout General Kaya had hiked up Cleome's dress as she knelt dutifully between her princess's legs, only the tops of her brown feline ears visible over the bunched-up garment. The beastkin had owed Cleome both her duty and her love from the day the two had met, and after returning from the field to find the princess holed up with naught but paperwork for companionship, had decided to make good on both of her debts.

The game was quite simple. Cleome was free to continue with her tedious paperwork for as long as she could, so long as she resisted the urge to command Kaya to cease her ministrations. The moment her beastkin lover brought her to orgasm, however, she had to retire to the bedchamber with her doting companion. Kaya grinned as she gently lapped away at Cleome's now-sopping pussy. Ever the perfect princess. Left to her own devices, she'd rot away in this tower, trying to fix the problems of everyone in Lemuria other than herself.

Cleome had nearly finished signing off on a request to increase wages for cargo inspectors in the port city of Melusine when Kaya decided to swirl her tongue around in a particularly inventive way. The resulting involuntary jerk of Cleome's arm sent her inkwell careening across the desk, ruining the paperwork as she let out a very decidedly un-princessly shriek. The guards must have heard that. They'll burst in and see us and--

The door gently opened and a gentle-looking, if somewhat gaunt, head leaned in. "Did I startle you, Clee?" Gritting her teeth and hoping that Kaya would have the common sense to stop her task for just a minute, Cleome assumed what she desperately hoped was a normal expression and focused her attention on the new arrival. "M-maybe just a bit. I'll clean up the mess later. What brings you all the way up here, A-Anny?"

The kingdom's second princess, Anise, was similar to her elder sister in many ways. Both shared the royal family's trademark blonde hair and vivid blue eyes. But while Cleome was sleek and steely, a being of grace and dignity who inspired both fear and love, Anise was bony and pale. Not ugly by any standard (helped by her bright, if impish disposition), but paling in comparison to her "princess classic" sibling.

Burdened with an excess of the Goddess's divine essence at birth, far beyond the norm for a human, Anise had been a sickly, broken child, bedridden for much of her youth. Even now, as an adult, she was as frail as her sister was strong, in body at least. Something as simple as ascending a few flights of stairs to reach Cleome's office had sapped much of her limited strength.

Anise turned to her sister with a conspicuously innocent look and spoke. "High General Oriana has tasked me with gathering the military council. It sounds as if one of Kaya's scouts has brought some dire news from the eastern border."

"What!?"

Anise's brow furrowed. "Did the Scout General not tell you already? She rushed off the moment she reached the palace. Something about debriefing you." She touched her chin thoughtfully. "Although I think she misspoke. I'm no soldier, but isn't that phrase supposed to be the other way around?"

"You probably j-just misheard her."

"Oh, I'm sure. Well, I'm off to find Cybele. Probably holed up in her laboratory again. Speaking of the palace's shut-ins, you should try to get some sunlight, Clee. You are starting to look almost as pale as me, and without the excuse of being locked in this gilded cage." With that, Anise strode elegantly back to the door. "One more thing. Don't be too mad at Kaya for holding off on delivering the bad news. It's clear that her mouth is otherwise occupied at the moment." With that, Anise gently closed the door just in time for Cleome's thrown pen to clatter off the thick wood where her head had been a moment ago.

Kaya, sensing the princess's distraction, decided at that moment to gently nibble on her paramour's love button. She was rewarded with a torrent of warm juices across her face as Cleome came to a howling, bucking climax. Grinning mischievously, she sinuously extracted herself from between her lover's thighs and climbed into her lap. "I win."

"You cheated. If Anise hadn't--" Kaya silenced the protesting royal with a passionate kiss, filling Cleome's mouth with the taste of her own girlcum as the pair's tongues entwined. After what felt like far too brief of a blissful moment, the princess reluctantly withdrew and tried to regain some of her lost composure. "You had some news for me?"

Kaya frowned. "I had hoped it could wait, or that Oriana would deal with it on her own." She sighed. "I suppose that was too much to ask for. Come, we'd best get cleaned up before they start the meeting without its most competent invitees."

Ephiran Palace, Corridor

Princess Anise giggled as she heard her sister's pen ricochet off the closing door. Ignoring the inquisitive look on a nearby guard's face, she waltzed off with a spring in her step. Clee had always been the only soul in the palace who didn't treat her like she was made of porcelain. Which made her all the more fun to provoke.

Not that Anise disapproved of Cleome's barely-hidden romance. Goddess knows dear sister needs some stress release. And Scout General Kaya, with her fluffy brown tail and warm amber eyes, certainly made for a cute companion. Although, many of Anise's countrymen would disagree. Beastkin, while more accepted in Lemurian society in recent years than ever before, were still viewed by many as outsiders. Kaya technically held a noble title, but Ephira's upper echelons, especially that group of influential nobles that deemed themselves the city's civilian council, would never really accept her. Certainly not as a future queen consort.

Still, that might all change. Once Cleome took the throne, she could bring the nobility to heel. Probably one of the only parts of taking the throne Clee will actually like. Although that time was still many years off. Anise and Cleome's mother, Queen Isabelle, was still in good health and sound mind. Still stunning, too, even at twice my age. Much prettier so than skeletal little Anise. The young princess winced slightly. Jealous of my own mother. That's a good look.

She sighed. While being the "spare" and "feeble" princess had its benefits (a distinct lack of expectations to live up to numbering among them), Anise couldn't help but feel the occasional bout of lonely bitterness. Cleome and Isabelle had always been so close. After all, much of the Queen's time during her daughters' childhoods had been devoted to training the one with an actual future, preparing Cleome for her royal destiny. Didn't leave her much time to pay attention to her lesser daughter.

The princess frowned at the ugly, unfair thought. A queen's duty was to her people and country over even her own family. Isabelle understood that, and lived her life by it. Besides, one has to HAVE a personal life before one's mother can pay attention to it. Sure, Anise had taken part in a few secret dalliances in her twenty-five years, but none had been meaningful or particularly passionate. Just the occasional duke's son or daughter who happened to catch her eye (and who could be manipulated or threatened into keeping quiet about the indiscretion). Something to pass the time. Nothing like the genuine, emotional bond her big sister and her feline general clearly shared. Okay, so now I'm jealous of Clee, too. Great. Anise continued to ruminate as she approached Cybele's laboratory. The Mage General's sanctuary away from the tiresome demands of humans. True love. I may poke and prod Cleome over it, but I'm happy that she's found it. Even if it's just one more thing that she gets to have that I don't.

Nearheath

Verity stifled a moan as yet another imp took her from behind. Normally the squat little wretches, shriveled descendants of the Exile's first, clumsy forays into reshaping humans, lived on the edges of non-Goddess-worshipping societies, serving any beings more powerful than them. Which included pretty much every being. The creatures typically wouldn't even make eye contact with an ogre or beastkin, let alone a true higher demon such as herself. But Marlow, seemingly tiring of 'feeding' her himself in the weeks since conquering Nearheath, had ordered Verity to provide relief for the various demons and other corrupted beings that had taken up residence in his little project town. Mostly imps, ogres, and a number of wild beastkin, as well as one or two blood-sucking moroii holed up in some of the abandoned buildings. No other succubi or incubi, of course. Her kin could probably hear (or smell) what was happening to Verity from miles away and were wisely avoiding sharing her fate.

Verity was uncomfortably reminded of Nearheath's other new guests when a sweaty hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and directed her mouth toward an even sweatier cock, all while the imp unloaded messily into her. Grimacing slightly, she nevertheless took the unwashed member into her mouth with all the care and precision of a true professional. Humans. She was well aware of the tendency of the species to betray one another, but never thought they would start arriving by the dozen, drawn by promises of wealth and flesh to be won.

Lemuria's neighbor to the east, the Ipzold Confederacy, was a loose collection of city-states that labeled themselves as valuing freedom of thought and action. In practice, the nation was the perfect haven for all those, demonic and human alike, who rejected the Goddess and her teachings. And it seemed that many Ipzoldi hungered for revenge on their pious Lemurian neighbours.

The man, nearing his climax, dragged the demoness's head down fully onto his cock, his rancid pubic hairs tickling her nose. Still, Verity dutifully gulped down every drop of the life-giving seed the wretch released down her throat. Need to eat, if only to keep my strength up for the next few rounds. She debated draining the foul man's essence completely (Marlow hadn't expressly forbidden it), but relented as she saw her master out of the corner of her eye, striding toward her.

"Stand." Her body obeyed, causing an imp still rutting away at her cum-slick asshole to slip out with a pop and drop to the ground. Marlow gave her an appraising look. "Go get yourself cleaned up. I want you presentable for our meeting with the princess today."

Verity couldn't help herself. "Meet her? With what? A gaggle of lesser demons, your science experiments, and some Ipzoldi bandits? You know she'll have an army with her. An actual army. That spends its time killing said demons and driving out said bandits in numbers far greater than you--"

Marlow's raised hand brought her speech to a halt. "Don't worry about this 'gaggle.' They will be staying right here. Now go. Clean up."

And that was that. Verity unwillingly sauntered off to go wash her body. At least I'll be a relatively tidy corpse. As she approached her chosen domicile, she caught sight of a fluid movement in the shadow of a nearby alley. Verity shuddered. At least death will be an ending. What Marlow had done to their two would-be ambushers on that first fateful night was not a fate she'd wish on anyone. Which made the twisted beastkin pair's recent presence on the periphery of his operation all the more concerning. Especially whenever she saw the expressions on the faces of their unwarped kin whenever they gazed upon the monstrous creatures. Awe and fear.

Nearheath Outskirts

Well, at least I get to meet a princess while naked. That's kind of a fun way to die. Verity shifted uncomfortably in the saddle as her horse plodded along behind Marlow's. For once she was completely unbound, free of any straps, chains, rubber, or leather. Of course, Marlow being Marlow, two massive, leathery phalluses sprouting from the top of her saddle kept the demoness all too aware of both his continuing control over her and every single movement the damned equine beneath her trembling thighs made. The constant shifting had slowly rocked her into six agonizing orgasms, and she now found herself chafing in places she never knew she could chafe.

The pair had accrued a small retinue of Marlow's drones as they travelled, but their numbers were still in the mere dozens at best. As they crested a hill and the scope of the force opposing them was revealed, Verity felt the unfamiliar sensation of terror churning in her gut. Then the fucking horse decided to prance, sending her crashing into another wretched climax.

Lemuria, Southeastern Prairie

"We never found his body." Mage General Cybele's words from weeks ago echoed in Cleome's mind. "Professor Velis's corpse was horribly charred. It was logical at the time to assume his apprentice had similarly perished." The bespectacled, crimson-haired elf, one of the oldest and most powerful mages in Ephira, could always be trusted to interpret information clearly.

Report

"Our scout's testimony, however, paints a far darker picture. I have reviewed the late professor's notes. My former colleague gave Marlow far too much leeway, trusting that all he was doing was for a noble cause. Clearly, that was not the case."

"What do you propose we do? Waste more time delving into this madman's past?" High General Oriana, the "Iron Wall" responsible for protection of Lemuria as a whole, had an uncharacteristic tinge of anger in her voice. As far as she was concerned, she had already failed in her duties. A childhood friend of Queen Isabelle, Oriana had seen more military action than almost any (non-elven) Lemurian soldier and was fiercely protective of the citizens under her care.

"No. The only sensible course of action is to snuff out his ambitions now." Mage General Cybele had been a trusted advisor of Cleome's mother, grandmother, and others well beyond the princess's memory. She had always approached tasks methodically and rationally. For her to insist that Cleome mount a decisive, overwhelming strike was something of a shock. "If left unchecked, this rot will soon spread too quickly to contain. We must act with haste." The decision had been unanimous, with Cleome trusted Cybele's judgment and Kaya trusting Cleome's.

Although Oriana reluctantly remained in Ephira along with the bulk of the Ephiran military (in case the events in Nearheath were simply a diversion), Cybele had made the unprecedented choice to bolster Cleome's strike force with her entire retinue of elven warmages. Gifted with magical talents far surpassing that of any human wizard, the small cadre of elves represented enough of the Goddess's essence to lay waste to a small town in minutes.

Still, Cleome was concerned as two mounted figures came into view. A handful of Marlow's wretched monstrosities milled aimlessly about, but only the sorcerer and his lewd companion approached. As he did, he held up both arms. Surrendering? I doubt it.

The princess let out a frustrated sigh. Each of the twisted creatures dotting the plains held one of her citizens held hostage in its vile embrace. Maybe there was a way to talk Marlow out of this madness and free them. Or, if not, at least the parley would get his head within sword range. Gesturing at her retinue to stand by, she rode out to meet Marlow with the Mage General at her side. Kaya and her forces were already hidden, fanning out in the field ahead, preparing to strike from all sides if and when the order came. The sky behind the princess darkened as Cybele's mages prepared a storm, ready to be unleashed when called for. Cleome knew she held all the cards. So why am I nervous?

"Your highness, it has been far too long." Marlow smiled with an uncharacteristic, feigned warmth. "I missed my dear cousin's smiling face over these long years." Cleome glared. "And the Mage General herself as well! I hope you aren't angry about Velis. I know you were friends, so I hope it comes as some consolation to know that his death was not for nothing." Cybele's face remained impassive, her sharp, elegant features betraying no emotion. "Oh, and I am being rude! This is Verity, my assistant and, in a way, the 'mother' of all my lovely little drones." Verity weakly gave a silent grimace of a smile.

Marlow dismounted, then gestured at his companion to follow suit. Cleome's face betrayed a moment of shock as the succubus slowly and wetly pulled her body off the massive saddle-mounted intruders with a loud squelch. With a flourish, Marlow tossed a small component pouch to the ground, where it rapidly formed a table and three chairs. He sat in the nearest, turning to the two warriors expectantly as the succubus took up a post kneeling demurely behind him. "A surrender should be civilized, no?"

Cybele calmly dismounted and sat in the nearest chair, Cleome following suit. The elven mage clearly wasn't concerned by Marlow's conjuration, and the princess was more than happy to follow her lead in such matters. She began to speak but was swiftly cut off as Marlow rang off a list of demands.

"The queen will be allowed to keep her throne, and you will be permitted to remain in the royal court. Your generals will continue to serve Lemuria. However, worship of the Goddess will be abolished and I will have full authority over the nation's laws and its people as its king." Cleome stared blankly, mouth slightly ajar. Then, her face reddened and she rose to her feet, fury filling her face as any decorum was forgotten.

"You insolent little shit! Us? Surrender to you? The only reason you still draw breath is that I haven't decided to slay you yet! You should be begging for your life, not dictating terms!" She placed a hand on the hilt of her longsword but felt a calm, gentle touch on her arm. Cybele. Cleome reluctantly sat and allowed her general to speak. "Clearly you feel you have some sort of advantage." The crimson-haired elf remained the picture of calm. "And the princess has made our stance on the matter equally clear. I suggest we conclude these negotiations now rather than wasting time with empty words. Withdraw to your...forces, and we will do the same. Then you will meet your end on the field of battle."

"No."

Marlow's word took on a dark, echoing, booming tone. The chairs beneath the princess and the general twisted and warped, cuffs forming from the wood and clamping around the ankles and wrists of the shocked women. Cybele felt the unfamiliar sensation of surprise. I didn't sense any more magic in the chairs. That shouldn't be possible. A mere human couldn't be powerful enough to mask his spells from me.

Marlow chuckled. "Finally cracked that stoic shell of yours, did I?" He turned to Cleome. "And you, cousin, should learn a little respect--"

A rust-colored blur exploded from the grasses on his right as Scout General Kaya lunged at the sorcerer, a flurry of teeth and claws. Marlow fell from his seat, backpedaling away from the frenzied beastkin.

I guess getting to see Marlow ripped apart first will help ease my untimely end a little. Verity allowed herself a small smile as she unmovingly watched the frenzied tableau. Panicking, Marlow turned to the succubus. "Stop her!" Fuck. Before her mind could even register what her body was doing, Verity dove and tackled the Scout General, dragging the furious beastkin away from her master. She screamed out in pain as the cat's razor-sharp laws raked long, bloody lines across her nude flesh.

Kaya threw the demon to the ground, teeth bared as she reached for the dagger at her side. "The demon doesn't matter, kill Marlow!" Cleome's order snapped Kaya's attention back to her original target. Infuriatingly, he had already scrambled onto horseback and was fleeing toward his pets, which in turn were consolidating around their master as quickly as they could manage. A rumble alerted Kaya that the rest of Cleome's forces had taken the initiative and had charged toward the enemy to protect their princess. The immediate danger averted, Kaya rushed to her lover's side and began tearing away the bonds securing her to the chair.

The rumble turned to thunder both of charging horses and of bolts raining from the sky as Cybele's mages rode after Cleome's knights, calling down furious lightning strikes. One lit up a drone, causing it to emit an unearthly wail as it twisted, smoking, before shuddering and collapsing unmoving to the ground.

Once freed, Cleome rose to her feet, gingerly rubbing her wrists, while Kaya began tearing away Cybele's bonds as well. Some of the princess's forces had remained behind to protect her, but the bulk of the soldiers were about to fall upon Marlow and his beasts. She pushed aside a pang of regret over her failure to free the enslaved townsfolk. She would mourn their deaths once the kingdom as a whole was safe. Cleome turned to Kaya to thank her, but the words caught in her mouth when she saw a look of horror on the beastkin general's face. As she returned her gaze toward the field of battle, she began to hear the screaming.

Well, that had been less than ideal. Marlow regretted, to some extent, sacrificing Verity. The expressions on her face whenever he introduced her to some new indignity had almost made it worth keeping her around on their own. But his survival was paramount, and, ultimately, he was sure he could find a new plaything. He gritted his teeth in frustration. I had the bitch right where I wanted her! She was mine! Someone should put a bell on that damn cat of hers.

Still, as luck would have it, he managed to reach what he now considered "his territory" ahead of the princess's forces. The protective charms woven into his coat even managed to disrupt the elven mages' bolts, preventing any direct strikes as lightning rained down around him. Every step his horse took now was one that would lead his pursuers deeper into his trap.

Upon feeling he had gone far enough, Marlow turned to face the oncoming soldiers, seeing, to his shock, that the vanguard was mere feet away. Terror flooded his mind as he desperately reached out with the Exile's powers, calling out to the countless seeds his workers had tirelessly planted across the field over the previous weeks.

The effect was immediate. The ground underneath the oncoming army erupted in a wave of jet-black ichor and tendrils. Some of the twisting limbs speared through the charging mounts, causing the entire formation to collapse into a screaming, bloody heap. Others snatched riders from horseback, wrapping around limbs and hoisting the struggling soldiers into the air, where still more tentacles violently stripped them of their clothes and armor before seeking out any available holes to fill. He focused on one surprisingly busty knight as three tentacles competed for the chance to rob her of her virginity. Eventually, two forced their way into her cunt, alternating thrusts in and out, while the third adjusted course and plunged into her ass instead. Behind her, another night let out a muffled scream into the tentacle filling his throat as one of its kin started working its way into his ass.

The assault was quick, brutal, and efficient. The thrusting invaders quickly deposited their inky, black seed before releasing each victim and seeking out the next. They joined the rest of their compatriots as they writhed in ecstasy and agony, corruption taking hold as inky black fluid poured out of their now-corrupted orifices and quickly converted them into new drones. The freshly-born creatures quickly began either feeding on the dead and dying or ensnaring and converting any Ephiran soldier who had survived the initial onslaught unscathed.

Meanwhile, the surge of tentacles rapidly withered and dissolved, its task complete. The seeds only had enough magical essence to maintain their tendrils for a few minutes without a host, but that was all that had been needed. Where once there had been one of the the deadliest military forces on the continent, there was now a twisted, primal orgy as Marlow's new drones fed and fucked. The cries of pleasure and agony from their hosts blended together in a twisted chorus. Even Cybele's mighty mages, ageless and respected across the land, were easily captured by the initial onslaught. However, unlike their human companions, they had simply been cocooned in rubbery shells. Fresh material for my side project.

Cybele's jaw dropped. Over her many years, she had nearly forgotten what shock was, and now it had visited her twice in a matter of minutes. She had never seen magic like this. For the first time in centuries, she didn't know what to do.

"Form up and protect the princess!" Kaya snapped off orders to her scouts, who had mostly remained behind the advance, sparing them from the carnage visited on the rest of the Ephiran forces. "Princess, we have to fall back. Cleome. Please." If Cybele was stunned by the shock, Cleome was frozen. She stared uncomprehendingly at the writhing mass that had just been her loyal forces. Her mouth worked silently as her mind tried to come up with something--anything--to say to her remaining soldiers. "I--we--I don't--"

*Crack*

Even with all of the horrors they had just witnessed, Kaya slapping her liege across the face still might have been the most shocking thing anyone had seen that day. Especially when she followed up the strike with a quick but passionate kiss. "Pull yourself together and tell us what to do. We need you. I need you." Her cheek ringing red from her general's assault, Cleome took a deep breath. "We'll follow the scout's rules. Fall back so we can ensure this ever happens again."

"You won't make it." All heads save for Cybele's snapped toward the bleeding succubus as Verity pulled herself to her feet. "He's got another field of seeds set up behind you to intercept a retreat. You'll suffer the same fate as your army unless you follow the right path."

"And I take it you know the right path? What do you hope to gain, demon?" Cleome spat out the last word. Verity, however, didn't seem to notice or care. "Treat my wounds and get me far enough away from Marlow that he can't tell me what to do anymore. As long as you do that, I will gladly tell you everything I know."

"Decision time, your highness!" Kaya called out with a sense of urgency. Their twisted fornication and feasting now complete, Marlow's new army was lurching towards them at an alarming rate. Cleome gritted her teeth. "Fine, the demon leads the way. Everyone move. Now!"

Cybele remained as still as a statue. "Your highness, it has been an honor serving you and your family. However, I must tender my resignation. I have an army to incinerate and I cannot allow you to order me to do otherwise." Decision made, she turned away and began striding purposefully toward the oncoming horde.

Cleome began to protest, but the elven archmage raised a hand, causing a wall of stone to erupt from the ground, cutting the princess and her retinue off from both Cybele and the shambling mass heading their way. As the Mage General charged, she began hurling streams of flame into the nearest drones, burning a path straight to the heart of the enemy force. Once she found herself at the centre of the wretched army, she allowed the divine spark residing within her body to ignite fully, blossoming into a veritable nova. Few magical practitioners bothered to learn how to ignite, as such an act was the last resort of those both desperate and unafraid of death. She hoped that Cleome was out of the blast radius. She hoped that Marlow wasn't. Cybele began to glow as the divine spark's power approached its peak. She closed her eyes and prepared for the end.

The first bite felt like a bee sting on her shin. Then another, on her shoulder. A third, at her waist. Cybele's eyes snapped open as the drones latched on to her with their disgusting tentacle maws and began draining her. But she was not losing blood, or any other fluid. To the elf's shock, the energy building up in her body began to fade away, siphoned off by Marlow's beasts. Exhausted, she slumped to the ground, unable to stand, let alone conjure any more flames. The drones parted, revealing their master's smug visage. "That was quite the attempted sacrifice. Very heroic. But I'm afraid you aren't done with the world of the living just yet." He smiled unsettlingly as she felt tentacles begin curiously working their way up her limbs. "Don't you worry. I'll be putting that divine spark of yours to good use."

Feeling total defeat for the first time in millennia, Cybele cried out as the first tentacle found her pussy and thrust inside her.

End of Chapter 3